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monocaelia · 3 years

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comforting you after a nightmare headcanons

nightmares aren't fun, but luckily you have someone there to protect you.

feat. albedo, diluc, childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli

genre : hurt/comfort, fluff

note : hbd to me!! here's a gift from me to you with one of my favorite tropes, hehe <:

❀ albedo

albedo isn't one to dream much, let alone rest. he's always caught up in his own research and experiments that sleep isn't really needed if he wanted to be more productive in his research, despite the worried comments from sucrose and your lighthearted nags that he'll stay short forever.

though, that isn't to say that he's not interested. there are many times that albedo has caught you dozing off in his laboratory while waiting for him to be done with his experiments. he would be lying to himself if he didn't wonder what could possibly be playing in your mind to make you be smiling like that while unconscious.

this time, though, is an exception.

test tubes and flasks filled with various liquids and concoctions fill albedo's workspace as he examines each and every one before filling in his notebooks with descriptions and drawings of his work. there's a shuffle from his other desk and his eyes shift up to glance at you. albedo's gaze softens at the sight of his coat draped over your shoulders as they move to the rhythm of your breathing.

he wonders why you choose to stay at his laboratory so late and wait for him to finish his research rather than head home alone and sleep in your much more comfortable bed. albedo supposes you find comfort in his presence, an odd thing to be comforted by really.

however, the gentle smile quickly falls from his face the moment he hears the quiet whimpers and pleas. as quickly as he could, albedo moves to your side and gently shakes you awake. he isn't the least surprised when your eyes snap open and a gasp leaves your lips.

"...are you alright?" the question breaks you from your daze and you seem to relax when you realize you aren't dreaming anymore. though, the way your hands and shoulders shake doesn't escape the sharp eyes observing you.

"come on, i think i'm done with my research for now. we can head home if you'd like?" albedo smiles when you nod your head, but as he turns to pack up and prepare to leave his laboratory your hand shoots out to grasp his own.

albedo is surprised at first, but the shock melts into endearment as his hand pulls yours up to his lips. he presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles, reassuring you that he'll be right there for you. that you wouldn't be alone.

"nightmares, huh? ...i wonder if i can concoct something to help eradicate the chances of them appearing. oh, don't worry, i won't leave your side for the rest of the evening. promise."

❀ diluc

diluc isn't prone to nightmares, honestly he probably gets them quite often. or maybe even dreamless dreams if he's lucky. well, considering he sleeps at all. he's busy being the darknight hero of mondstatdt in the dead of night, so sleep doesn't come by often for the red haired vigilante.

even when he does get nightmares, there's not many people he can call to or rely on to help comfort him. he doesn't trust any of the knights, and he definitely doesn't trust kaeya to help at all. so comforting someone isn't something he knows how to do well.

but he tries his best to comfort you in any way, shape, or form if you ever needed him to.

the knocking against his door is quiet, nearly nonexistent if diluc was preoccupied with anything other than trying to sleep. he would have ignored it if it weren't for the quiet whisper of his name from a voice he recognized. sighing, he rises from his bed and heads over to his door, mentally preparing himself for whatever you're planning to throw over his head.

instead, diluc is met with your cheeky smile. you're definitely up to no good, but he hasn't quite figured out what you were going to do or say. before he could even question why you're standing outside his door in the dead of night, you interrupt him.

"wow diluc! fancy seeing you here, do you come here often?" he deadpans at you and nearly closes the door to go back to sleep. but he notices the way your fingers twiddle, a sign that you're nervous about something. his eyes flicker to your face, scanning anything that would give him clues on what's on your mind.

"what happened?" diluc's brows furrow in worry seeing the way your smile falls and the way your body begins to curl in on itself. he offers a hand for you to take, an invitation for you to be comforted by the stoic man in front of you. he lets a small smile grow on his lips when he sees you brighten up a tad at his invitation.

your hand is encased in his own, scarred and rough with callouses but comforting and warm at the same time.

"go back to sleep, it's already getting really late. if you need anything, though, i'll be right here until the dawn rises."

❀ childe

although sleep is necessary to maintain perfect health, childe finds it difficult to maintain a proper sleeping schedule due to his job as a fatui harbinger. when the tsaritsa calls, he needs to be there immediately to come to her aid and carry out her orders regardless of how inconvenient it was for him.

but, having many siblings, especially younger ones, has always prepared childe to comfort and protect anyone that he holds close to his heart. nobody, not even nightmares, can get close enough to harm the people he loves, not if he's alive to knock them down a peg.

which definitely includes you, someone who holds his entire world in the palm of your hands.

childe finds you awake at the dead of night after one of his shifts at the northland bank. which is surprising considering you're always asleep before he gets back home from work, always trying to stay up to welcome the harbinger home but always succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber.

a mischievous grin grows on his lips as he plans to spook you, but as he nears your body, the shaking of your body and quiet sniffles reach his ears. immediately, childe's hand is on your shoulder and he frowns when you yelp and whip around to see him.

"o-oh, ajax, i didn't expect to see you home so soon. i was just getting ready for bed." a white lie. childe presses his lips into a thin line, his hand reaching out to catch a tear falling from your cheek. did...did he do this to you? was he being a bad partner for not putting aside more time for you?

as if reading his mind, you vehemently shake your head and grab onto childe's wrist. "no! no... it's not what you think i just had a really bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep. don't worry, you don't need to beat yourself up over this." he relaxes immediately at your comment, but he still feels bad for leaving you alone when you needed someone to comfort you.

childe leans over, cupping your face in his hands as he showers your face in featherlight kisses. your giggles fill the room and the habinger can't help but laugh as well, especially after pressing a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips. "how about i cook you a nice stew for tonight? it always helped teucer calm down when he was scared."

and you take him up on that offer. the rest of the evening is filled with light laughter from the both of you as childe moves around the kitchen and tells you stories of his childhood. the scene is comforting, peaceful, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"how about we turn in for tonight? don't worry, nothing will harm you as long as your big, strong ajax is by your side!"

❀ kaeya

despite his title of being a "lazy" and "laid-back" captain of the calvary, kaeya isn't one to sleep too much. he has a regular sleeping schedule, though there are some nights where the memories of his past haunt him and he stays up reminiscing about how things were.

he's one to brood alone, not letting anyone see him vulnerable. but he likes to be relied on. there isn't a bone in his body that prevents him from helping anyone in need, even though the way he gets things done is quite... unconventional to everybody else's standards.

but when you call to him for help, he’s there in an instant.

the sound of rustling from beside kaeya stirs him from his slumber. he squints, his good eye focusing in the darkness of his room before landing on your curled up figure beside him. he figures you’re just shifting in your sleep and closes his eyes again, but you shift again and sigh. surely, you’re not sleeping at this point.

kaeya gently calls out your name, a warm smile on his face when he sees you startle from his voice. though, his smile melts away from his face when he sees your expression. it doesn’t help that you flinch slightly when his hand reaches over to brush against your cheek.

“sorry, i just…i’m still shaken from my dream and-“ your apologies are cut short when kaeya sends you a comforting smile and cups your jaw in his hand. he assures you that it’s fine.

“are you okay? how long have you been up?” it takes you a moment too long to come up with a lie that would put your lover at ease. when you come up with an answer, kaeya is already staring at you with his mismatched orbs, one of deep sapphire and the other a light, milky blue color. you can’t lie to him now.

so you tell the calvary captain about the dream you just had, not going too into details with what really shook you. and kaeya listens to everything you say, a hand firmly on your arm to remind him that you’re with him and not whatever occurred in your dreams.

he makes little comments here and there to lighten the mood, though he knows when to keep quiet so you can talk it through. when you finish talking the dream through, kaeya pinches your cheek, chiding you for dreaming of such things.

but he reassures you that you’re fine, and that he’s here to protect you should anything from your dreams come into reality. he jokes about letting you handle everything alone, but you know he wouldn’t despite how cheeky he is.

"don't let the bedbugs bite, [name]. haha, kidding. i'll be here to fight them off if you need me. i am a captain after all."

❀ xiao

xiao isn't unfamiliar with nightmares and dreams. don't forget, one of his duties under the reign of the yaksha's previous master was to devour the dreams of the innocent. it had gotten to the point where dreams were the only things he could stomach, despite detesting the intent behind it.

despite it all, though, xiao is still an adeptus who protects the mortals and the innocent of liyue. his sole job now, under his contract with rex lapis, is to protect even if it means throwing his life away. with a swift call of his name, he would be there to be the guardian of liyue and anyone residing in it.

and that includes you, the sole mortal that the young adeptus enjoys the company of.

a gasp tears through your throat as you sit up in your bed, sweat dripping down the side of your face. your eyes are blown wide open with the visions of your nightmare still clear in your mind. the rapid beating of your heart and panting are the only sounds heard in your otherwise quiet bedroom.

curses spill from your lips as you cradle your head in your hands, your knees pulled up to your chest to try and make yourself as small as you possibly could. but to no avail, no matter what you did to comfort yourself or make yourself forget the nightmare, the visions still flashed in your memories every time you closed your eyes.

you don't hear the rustling from your window, nor did you feel the presence of someone crouching from behind your curtains. it's only when he gently calls your name do you whip your head around, eyes coming face to face with golden eyes that gleam in the moonlight.

"xiao... sorry i didn't see you there," you stutter, quickly wiping your eyes and turning away so the young adeptus wouldn't see you crying. his eyes narrow at you, eyebrows furrowing as a frown settles on his face. "what are you-"

your hands are pulled away from your face and you're pulled closer to him. "you're crying." you try to deny xiao's observation and reassure him that you're fine, but a hand gently brushes against your cheek.

xiao doesn't say anything when the tears begin falling down your face again. he doesn't say anything when you jump into his arms and bury your face in his chest. you feel his arms firmly wrap themselves around you. he doesn't say a word, but his actions alone assure you that he would be there with you for the rest of the evening.

"sleep. should any more dreams come to haunt you during your rest, i'll be here to dispose of them."

❀ zhongli

as an archon, zhongli doesn't find much need for sleep. he's a god and no god needs sleep to be energized for the following day. it's not like it would do well for him anyways, seeing as he would much rather prefer strolling the lit up streets of liyue harbor in the late evening before returning to his home to drink tea and relax.

that's not to say he isn't familiar with dreams and how they can affect mortals. he knows full well the impact they can have, especially if they're dreams filled with horrible outcomes or stuff nobody would like to be reminded of.

so when you come to him to seek comfort after a horrible night, he's ready to welcome you into his embrace.

the gentle whisper of zhongli's name alerts him of your presence from the hallway in your shared home. the archon lifts his head to look at you, eyes made of molten gold meeting your shaking gaze. "what's wrong, dear?" you don't answer his question and instead shift your gaze to the ground.

zhongli tells you to "come here" in the gentlest voice he could muster, and you do. as soon as you sit beside your lover, his hand comfortingly holds your jaw and lifts your face so you can see him. there's nothing but endearment and love in his gaze. "you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

he hums in amusement seeing the way your body relaxes after that. there's a gentle tug on your arm, a signal for you to find comfort in zhongli's embrace, and you find yourself snug in between the archon's arms. you inhale deeply, zhongli's comforting scent filling your lungs.

his hands rake gently up and down your spine and hearing his heartbeat from where you rest on his chest calms you immensely. if it weren't for your nervous, rhythmic tapping against his arm, zhongli would have assumed you fell back asleep in his arms.

"would you like to hear about the play i've been attending to recently? the plot is quite interesting, i think you would enjoy it." he attempts to distract you for a while to calm your nerves after waking so abruptly, and it works, not to his surprise.

as he drones on and on about the plot that doesn't quite make sense to you in your dazed state, the archon notices the way your fingers have stilled and your breathing has evened out, much calmer and more regulated than before. zhongli smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"it's starting to get late. you should try to rest again. don't worry, i'll be beside you should anything happen to you once more."

#albedo headcanons #albedo x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc x reader #childe headcanons #childe x reader #tartaglia headcanons #tartaglia x reader #kaeya headcanons #kaeya x reader #xiao headcanons #xiao x reader #zhongli headcanons #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin #didi writes #i wanted to do thoma but TT there's nothing on his wiki

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

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Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

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"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

#lula's fanfics #danny phantom #Bitter #jack fenton #am I projecting my neurodivergant ass on this man absolutely not how dare you sir #I just find not being able to tell if people are lying to me super relatable #danny phantom fanfiction #thanks y'all who told me how to do the readmores

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the-kaedageist · 3 years

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This scene was cut from my most recent chapter of More Things in Heaven and Earth, and as it is cute and not spoilery, I thought I would post it here! You don’t really need any familiarity with that fic to enjoy this interlude, other than knowing that Caleb is currently in Guinevere’s body and Essek is in Oskar’s, and they are in Rexxentrum.

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As they made their way back through the gate to the Shimmer Ward, Caleb shaded his eyes against the setting sun, struck by another idea. “It is nearly time for dinner,” he said, “and I know just the place, if you are interested?”

Essek nodded. Caleb began to lead him back through the streets of the Shimmer Ward, towards Soltryce and the neighborhoods that he’d frequented in his youth. Things here and there were different – it was hard to say if it was due to time’s passage or the fact that they were in another universe – but the majority of the city remained the same, and Caleb began to grow excited at the thought of sharing his favorite beer hall with Essek. Perhaps he could invite him for a dance…

They came to a stop in front of the place where the beer hall should have stood. Caleb glared with utter disdain at the upscale wine bar that had taken its place.

Essek wandered up to the window and peered inside curiously, his eyes alight. “This is where you intended to take me?” he asked with a small, pleased smile.

Caleb bit his lip, his frustration dying as quickly as it had flared up in the face of Essek’s enthusiasm. “It was intended to be a beer hall,” he said. “This was my, ah, old haunt when I was a student; it appears, in this world, that it has been gentrified. But I think you would be interested in trying it anyway?”

“I have not had as many opportunities to sample Empire wines as I would have liked,” Essek said. “Shall we?”

The wine bar that had replaced Hofbräuhaus had a cozy, dark interior lit with magical fairy lights, with a dimly lit map of the Menagerie Coast painted across the side and large, plush booths lining the walls The new ownership had retained the dance floor that featured so prominently in Caleb’s memories, but redecorated it with dark, stained wood flooring and lovely crimson curtains. Beautiful carvings of Nicodranas and other cities of the Menagerie Coast dotted the walls, and Caleb found his gaze caught by a particularly fetching relief of a very familiar building as he and Essek were led to a small, out of the way booth. The Lavish Chateau looked very similar in this world, it would seem, and he was immensely pleased to see it still existed.

They were seated in a booth that was plush beyond belief; Caleb immediately sunk into the crushed velvet of the upholstery. Across from him, Essek’s eyes crinkled into a smile as the dragonborn host left them with menus etched in a tiny, neat hand and glasses of water.

It was absurdly high class, far more than the beer hall had been. Essek looked positively delighted by every detail.

Caleb glanced down at the menu, squinting to read the details. “They have Lionett wine,” he said immediately, his eye catching on the familiar name.

Essek raised an eyebrow. “Beauregard’s family?”

“Interesting that the décor is themed after the Menagerie Coast, yet the wine is from the Empire,” Caleb observed.

A stuffy-looking waiter popped up at his elbow, surprising him. “Actually, we carry a wide variety of selections from all across the Marrow Valley, western Wynandir, and the Menagerie Coast,” the man said. He was wearing spectacles and had a neat little moustache, exactly as Caleb would have expected of such a place.

“And eastern Wynandir?” Essek asked, his expression deeply serious, which Caleb had learned was one of his tells that he was absolutely fucking with someone. “I have heard the Dynasty has many fine vintages.”

The waiter scoffed. “I’m sure they do, but you try getting those shipped into Rexxentrum with the war on. Might I suggest a bottle of ’20 Plumgroves Red? That was the year the hurricane swept through Feolinn, and only 300 bottles were ever produced. A rare delicacy, to be sure.”

Essek’s eyes lit up.

“And undoubtably quite expensive,” Caleb said carefully, immediately knowing they didn’t have the cash for such a purchase. “I think we are looking for something more…affordable.”

The waiter didn’t even blink, reaching into his pocket and whisking out two more menus. “Here is our tasting menu, which may be more to your purse’s liking,” he said. Despite the lack of judgment in his voice, he’d lost much of his salesman’s panache with the realization that they weren’t high rollers.

Essek scanned the smaller menu. “I think perhaps we would be interested in the Feolinn sampler,” he said. He glanced up at Caleb. “If that is to your liking?”

Caleb smiled. “Anything you wish to try, my friend.” They also put in an order for a few of the small-plate dinner items in the Menagerie Coast style to be shared between them and the waiter left them to themselves, returning a few moments later with the sampler of Feolinn wines.

Essek sipped at the first offering the moment the waiter had vanished, closing his eyes while tasting it. Caleb watched, amused and just enjoying being present with him, distracting him from the events of the coming day; he could focus just on Essek, his reactions and his soft questions and his occasional smile, with soft music from the small quartet in the corner. Despite his pique at his favorite beer hall being replaced, the wine bar’s romantic atmosphere was absolutely perfect.

“How is it?” he asked as Essek sipped the first sampler once more.

He made a face. “Interesting. Drier than most Dynasty vintages, although I suppose perhaps that is the style.”

“I had no idea you were as much a wine snob as Beauregard,” Caleb said with a laugh. “Although I suppose you did bring us that expensive bottle back in Rosohna.”

“Wine was one of the markers of status in my family,” Essek said. “I was trained to know it well.” He sampled the second option, his face much more agreeable. “This is much better,” he added.

“We shall have to bring you and Beauregard out to have wine together,” Caleb said with a small smile. “I think you will find much to speak on.”

The small plates arrived soon after, with samplings of various types of Menagerie Coast fare – richly seasoned carrots and asparagus, a delightful mix of seafoods, and some interesting spiced potato fritters. Caleb and Essek split the dishes between them, and it was quite nice to indulge in dinner, just the two of them, in a city that had once captured his heart and then broken it into a million pieces.

By the time they finished eating, Essek had already snagged the waiter for a second sampler, this time of Marrow Valley wines. Caleb could feel a pleasant tipsiness settling through him; he was used to having much more alcohol tolerance than Guinevere.

He looked over at Essek, who was critiquing his current sampler of wine with a delighted expression on his face that suggested he’d rather be nowhere else but there. Caleb couldn’t draw his eyes away. Even in a body that was not his own, in a world that was completely foreign, Essek was the brightest thing in the room.

Essek stopped speaking mid-sentence when he caught Caleb’s stare. “What?” he asked.

Caleb knew the smile that spread across his face was far too fond, but had absolutely no incentive to hide it. “It is nice, to see you so passionate.”

A flush went up the back of Essek’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. The small quartet in the corner struck up a new tune, soft and romantic. A few patrons from other booths began to move to the dance floor, and Caleb had the sudden impression that this was a popular date spot.

He reached over and took Essek’s hand, not sure if it was the haze of the alcohol, the rich attraction between them, or the strangeness of this world, but caught up in the magic of him all the same. It was strange, to realize that despite the revelations of the evening before, despite the coming day with all of its challenges, Caleb was happy.

#critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #cr fanfic #cr ficlet #cr fic #my fics #tusk love: the behemoth #this has barely been edited so be kind lol

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

looks different | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: angst, not even kidding...

⤑ rating: PG13.

⤑ word count: 4.2K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any. except a very sad min yoongi :( yeah, if you got tissues - bring ‘em.

⤑ A/N: okay so first of all?? guys!! thank you sooo much, for the quick support i’ve been getting for this fic! i mean we’re only five chapters in nd ., ugh!! just thank you sooo much i love you guyss!! also~ don’t get mad at yoongi, he’s just out here trying his best :(

APRIL 13TH, 2020 | 15:31

It's automatic the way his heart stutters at the sight of you walking through the glass doors of the studio lobby. Every last moment he's rushed down to this very lobby to wait for you, the biggest of smiles taking over his features when you'd finally arrive. More often than not with something healthy for him to eat, paired with the nagging of how he should stop ordering out even if he was working late.

His heart would stutter than too.

Different this time, though. Feeling more relieved than anything. There's no telling the dark places his mind has gone in the years that you've been gone – wondering what could've happened to you. And now you're here – safe. Yoongi loved you, of course, he'd feel relieved knowing that you were fine.

Fine, but different. He can't help but notice all the things about you that just... looks different. Your hair, the long dark waves that he loved to bury his hands in now cut short falling just below your chin. Made you look much older than your new twenty-four. Birthday had just passed, he remembered.

Your hips much, much wider. He can't help but pick up on that huge detail as they sway with each step you take closer to him. Very slow steps, for the record. Nervous steps. The same way you'd approach him if you were wielding bad news. That didn't change. Neither did the tentative way you nibbled at your lower lip, fingers pushing your hair behind your ear as you locked eyes with him.

The nerve to smile. Actually push the corners of your lips up and smile at him, but he's reacting the way he always has. Mouth dropping in slight awe because you were so pretty when you smiled. Even if it was riddled with anxiety.

Yoongi stands just as you're stopping in front of him, eyes traveling over his frame in wonder. He had changed in the past three years too. The hair that he kept bleached now it's natural dark color, his once lanky skinny frame holding more muscle. He's been eating well lately and you can tell in the fullness of his face.

Never the type of guy to wear his wealth, but you can't help but notice the diamond-studded single chain that hangs from his neck. A dazzling 'A' pendant hanging from it. Just a plain black tee and sweats, probably spent the day mixing and didn't bother to change from his night clothes.

That was so like him. And you had no idea how much you missed him until now. Seeing him, so close that you could reach out and touch him. But you don't, given the circumstance. No matter how much you want to – it'd be inappropriate. Could basically feel how angry he was, keeping your distance was best.

Realizing, the two of you had been standing there for quite some time – speaking no words, you decide to be the one to break the ice. It was your fault you were even in this situation, to begin with, right?

“Yoongi-,” You start, ready to explain yourself. Right then and there, lay it out flat for him. Everything. Why you left. The baby. What has happened in the past three years. But you're not given the chance.

His dark eyes widen at the sound of your voice as if he hadn't expected to actually hear you speak, as if you weren't real. And he's reacting all at once, arms reaching out to circle around your waist and pulling you into his chest. The force of his pull surprises you, but not enough to keep you from closing him in.

He smells the same. Has definitely swapped his cologne in the time passed, but that doesn't change a thing. He still smells like him. And you missed him. The sob that breaks through his chest, vibrates your body. With his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, arms clutching you close to his chest – he cries.

Not able to properly handle the emotions overwhelming his body, so he can't do anything but cry. Happy tears that you're safe, that none of the terrible things he thought had happened. Sad tears that you felt the need to leave him without a trace, leaving him to wonder what he could've done to make you feel so alone. Angry tears for all the shit you put him through by leaving, because he hadn't done anything wrong – it took him a while to realize that one.

All of those tears soaked the collar of your shirt, shaking his back. Fists clenching the fabric of his shirt, you forced yourself to keep your composure. To not break down the way you wanted because right now he needed you to be strong for him. You had no right to cry when this was your fault.

“I'm so sorry,” The words come out hushed at first before you're repeating louder. And then again. Until they're falling from your lips over and over again, you're worried they might lose their meaning.

But you don't stop, because ever since you made the decision to leave him – apologizing was the only thing you wanted to do. Woke up every morning with a new way to tell him, to express to him, how sorry you were. How shitty you felt by doing this to him. And now that you had the chance, all your practice speeches were gone out the window.

All you could muster was a simple 'I'm sorry' and hope that it held as much weight as it did in your heart.

The two of you stay standing there for moments to pass, your hand soothingly rubbing his back as he let out the frustrations he had been feeling for the past years onto your shoulder.

He's pulling back only after he's calmed down, eyes glossed and cheeks flushed as he searches your features. A soft, cool hand finding the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Are you sure you're okay?” The slight crack in his voice from his crying nearly shatters your heart.

“I'm okay. I'm so sorry, Yoongi...” Again, you try to find the words, but you're at a loss. Don't know what to say, no matter how many times you’ve imagined this exact moment. Where do you start? How do you get him to see that this, him like this, was not what you wanted when you left?

“I can't believe it's really you.” Both hands sliding down the sides of your arms until he's able to reach for your hands, loosely holding them in his as he has done a thousand times before. “We have a son?”

The words that leave his lips are hushed as if he's afraid to say them out loud. Afraid to let you hear him. But you do. Loud and clear. And your eyes are widening at his words. He knew? How could he...

“Your Instagram. The pictures, that little boy. He's my son?” His ability to read your mind hasn't faltered. You can see the sadness in his eyes, clearly. And you know exactly why it's there and it's your fault. All because you were too much of a coward.

The weight starts in your chest, quickly rushing up your throat until a sob is breaking through. Eyes watering as fresh tears slide down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Yoongi. I-I should've... I didn't think-” You try to speak through your cries, but he stops your struggle; reaching to pull you into his chest again.

Gentle fingers stroke the back of your head, twisting in your short strands of hair. “Shh, it's okay. Relax, it's alright.” Except it wasn't. He knew that and you did too. Because of your stupidity, he lost the first three years of his son's life, time that he would never get back and it was all your fault.

He should be angry at you. Screaming at you. Cursing you ten times over. Not holding you and stroking your hair and telling you that it'll be okay. This was wrong. You didn't deserve his kindness, you didn't deserve him.

Lifting your hands to find his chest, you're gently pushing yourself back to create some distance between the two of you. “I'm sorry, Yoongi. I should've trusted you.” No idea that your trust in him and wavered, but Yoongi doesn't dwell on the small detail. He had a son now. He was a father. There were bigger things to focus on.

“Hey, listen. Whatever happened, happened. We can't change it, alright? Why don't we go somewhere? Get something to eat so we can talk properly?” You're nodding at the request despite the fact that you're not all that hungry. Can't eat with the guilt filling your stomach.

Yet, the last thing you want to do is stay in this studio. Haunted by the memories that the two of you made in this very lobby, every square inch of this place was covered with the two of you – and you ruined that.

Never realized how shitty being back here would make you feel and now you needed to get out.

An easy smile is spreading across his face at your agreement, a gentle hand rubbing at your shoulder. “Why don't you go wait outside? I'll call my driver.” You don't even bother to mull over the fact that he has his own driver now. One of the perks that came with his new lifestyle, you assume.

With another small nod, you're turning to exit the building to wait for him. Mind racing with how you'd be able to tell him about this without ruining everything he has now. He's accomplished so much and here you come ready to ruin everything.

Again.

Two large men lead you into a restaurant a bit too fancy for a late lunch that neither of you is in the mood for. Ushering you to a table hidden in the back corner before stealing seats a few feet away. Yoongi orders food for the both of you when the waitress is coming with waters.

“Water? Think we might need something a little stronger for the conversation we're about to have.” Trying to lighten the mood, but the stone-cold expression on his face as the nervous laugh dying on your lips.

Lips pulled into a tight line, you watch as he reaches for the wrapped straw at the side of the table. He takes his time with peeling the paper from it before crumpling it between his fingers, dipping the straw into the iced drink with the other hand.

“I don't drink anymore.”

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise at his quiet admission. You had always known Yoongi to be a man that valued a good glass of whiskey. Liked to have a few sips while he worked, always brought his own bottle to parties claiming 'you young-ins don't know how to drink'.

He always knew his limit, a couple of glasses here and there but he'd never push it where it became an awful habit. Made sure of it. But the sound of his voice when telling you he quit? Told you that he might've slipped in that department. And you can't help but wonder if that was your fault too.

“Tell me about my kid. What's he like?” Clearing his throat, his back straightens slightly – in an attempt to change the subject. Put a halt to all the questions he knows are bouncing around in that head of yours.

And you know him well enough to know when he doesn't want to be pushed. So you allow the shift, unwrapping your straw and dropping it into the glass.

“He's like most three-year-olds, you know? I named him Hyunki.” Another thing that you had wanted to tell him since you left.

It had only been a few months into your relationship when Yoongi told you. The largest of smiles on his face as he went through the list he kept locked away in his head, gauging your expressions as he listed each off. As if he was checking to see if you liked any of them.

SEPTEMBER 18TH, 2015 | 21:42

“You're telling me you've never given it any thought?” The surprise is clear in your boyfriend's voice as he cranes his neck to get a better look at you. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, holding you to his chest.

The movie that he had picked out has faded to background noise since he started this random conversation. If you had been paying attention to the screen rather than noting every cute thing he did, you'd know that his words weren’t as random as you thought. That they were related to the passing scene.

It was so hard to concentrate around him, you were discovering. Could never focus too long on the things that didn't involve him when he was near you. Always found yourself lost in those pretty dark eyes or mesmerized by that gummy smile of his.

How were you supposed to focus on the plot of a movie when the world's most attractive man was behind you? Holding you to him and chuckling so close to your ear it was like surround sound made just for you. You didn't even remember the name of the damn film.

“I can honestly say I don't have the identity of my future children chosen.” You speak through a laugh as he’s rolling his eyes, hands falling low on your waist until he's able to grasp your hips.

Easily, he's lifting your body from between his legs, turning you to straddle his lap. The movie has been forgotten in his mind too. Your hands find the sides of his neck, tips of your fingers tickling his blond hair. “That's not what I mean, you can't pick who your kids are gonna be.” He speaks in a matter-of-fact tone that has a smile tugging on your lips.

Soft hands find the backs of your thighs, holding your body to his. Yoongi tilts his head back just slightly so he can get a better view of your face. Searching your features carefully before he says what he's thinking.

Can basically see the wheels turning in his head as his nibbles on his lower lip, deep in thought while he watching you. And you watch him right back, lips pursed in an attempt to mask the smile threatening to take over your features. You had always loved the way he looked at you.

“What do you think of Hyunki, then?” Different from all the outrageous names he had listed before. Hyunki. You could definitely see yourself raising a little boy with his face and that name. But it's too early to say it, relationship still too new no matter how you felt. You didn't want to scare him away.

“Hyunki's nice.”

One of the hands he had rested on your back of your leg is shifting, moving forward so he can reach your stomach. Through the fabric of your t-shirt, he traces random patterns – eyes focused on the movement of his fingers.

“My first son. I want to call him Hyunki.” Eyes slowly traveling up the length of your body until he's pinning you with such an intense stare it has a gasp falling from your lips. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, hopeful.

“Okay. I like Hyunki.” Yoongi's smile grows on his face, head tilting up to capture your lips with his. His grip tightening around your thigh to pull your body further onto his. Large hand flattening on the small of your back, guiding you until you were lying underneath him.

That was the first night you slept together.

APRIL 13TH, 2020 | 15:58

Warmth spread through his limbs with the knowledge that you had remembered your conversation all those years ago. Not only remembered it but honored him by using the name he had wanted. Just knowing that was enough to take a bit of the sting of leaving him away. Just a bit.

“So? What does he do? What does he like?” Had expected him to have more questions about you leaving, but it seemed his interest was elsewhere. And the least you could do was tell him whatever he wanted to know.

He was in charge here.

“He doesn't do much, you know?” A soft laugh falls from your lips, hand reaching up to push the hair from your face. “He's been really interested in sports lately. Plays soft basketball with Taehyung sometimes and-”

“Taehyung?” Yoongi's brow lifts at the mention of the unfamiliar name. Head tilting to the side slightly. “Who's Taehyung? One of his friends?”

“Kookie's boyfriend. He hasn't started preschool yet, so he doesn't really have any friends.” The waitress is heading toward the table, food in hand as two other women follow her.

Yoongi considers your words as the food is set down in front of you. Willing himself to keep calm as he takes in all the information that you're giving him. All of the things he missed. The fact that he has to ask questions about his own son, things that he should already know.

But he doesn't go off the way that he wants to, doesn't chastise you and place the blame exactly where it belongs. Instead, he's blowing a thick breath through his lips – leaning back against the cushion chairs.

“You moved to Busan, then?” From your countless stories about your best friend from Busan, he remembered enough to know that the 'Kookie' you were talking about was that same friend. So, the nod of your head is expected.

You watch as he blinks slowly, hand reaching for the clean utensils on the table. He clears his throat slightly, head tilting to the side in the way it does when he's thinking things over. Distracting himself by filling his personal plate with the various foods spread out in front of you two.

Silently, he gestures for you to eat and despite your hesitance, you move to fill your plate as well. Nervous. Pondering on whether or not you should just blurt it out. Ignore how he obviously doesn't want to know the ins and outs of your disappearance, if he did then he would be hitting you with questions, right?

Wished you were able to read him. Know what he was thinking right now. It had been something that you could do easily, simple gestures and facial expressions giving way to exactly what was going on in the head of his. However, it seemed that through time you've lost that ability.

“If he's three... shouldn't he be in preschool by now?” Yoongi's asking casually, shoveling a spoonful of food into his mouth as he watches you. How could he eat? Why wasn't he yelling at you? Pissed out of his mind. He's being so cool and it was throwing you.

You begin to eat after the expectant stare he gives you. Taking small bites, sitting on pins and needles in front of him. “Tae stays at home with him, but we were planning to enroll him once he's settled here a bit.”

There it was again, that 'we'. The 'we' that didn't include him in decisions that he should very well be included in. Only in this case, you weren't referring to the 'we' who decided on your disappearance, just the 'we' that have been helping you raise the son he had no idea about.

Yoongi can't help but feel bitter at the small fact. But he wills himself to bury it. Can't argue with you. Not when there's now so much at stake. When you have a kid that he doesn't even know, a kid that he wants to know. Needs to.

You held all the cards and without the knowledge of why you left in the first place, he had no idea what might set you off to where you were packing up and leaving again. That was the last thing he wanted, then and now.

He had to play his cards right.

Casual conversation remains steady between the two of you as you're finishing your meal. Filling Yoongi in on all the things he's missed in the past three years has your heart growing heavy. He's missed so much and it was because of you. Because you couldn't stand your ground and be with him.

He'd only ask you for one thing. Expected just one thing from you. And you couldn't even handle that.

“Does he know about me?” The words are coming out hushed after a stretch of silence. You had just finished sharing with Yoongi the slight obsession Hyunki has with Lego sets. How he could spend hours at his play table, building. He smiled real big at that, but from the slow way it vanished you could tell something was weighing on his mind. And this was it.

It pains you to shake your head. Hurts even worse when you see the sadness that flashes through his eyes. “Why not?” He's almost afraid of the answer, but can't keep himself from asking.

“It's always been us, you know. Me, him, Tae and Kookie. And he likes having them around. I didn't want him to feel like he was missing out on something.” So young that he hadn't started asking questions yet. Wondering why kids around him had two parents instead of one plus two respective uncles.

You thought you had been making the right decision, but as this week was set out to prove – you had no idea what the right decision was. And judging from the look on Yoongi's face, you were more than positive that you had made the wrong decision by keeping the fact that Hyunki had a father secret.

“So who does he think is his dad?” He's doing the thing where he's trying to keep himself from losing it. That hasn't changed.

The slight twitch of his brow, the flare of his nostrils as he took deep calming breaths. Desperately trying to keep his composure and not freak out on you the way he wanted to, you wished he just let go and give you what you knew you deserved.

“No one,” You're rushing out, hoping it could do something to relax him. “I don't even think he knows what that means.” Flinching at your own words, you force a breath from your lips. You try to change course. “I honestly thought it would be better for him this way.”

Hesitantly, you reach for his hand that had balled into a fist on the table. Soothing fingers running over his knuckles. “You can tell him if you want. Do you want to meet him?”

“Obviously, I'd like to meet my son. He's my son.” There's harshness in his tone that he doesn't bother to mask. That you don't miss as he's pulling his hand from your grasp, going back to the meal in front of him.

Lunch ends in silence. Yoongi quietly pays the bill, mumbles a goodbye to you as he puts you in a cab. Doesn't even bother to look back as he turns with his bodyguards to walk toward the car that had brought you here.

Yoongi is slouching in the back seat of his car, arms crossed over his knees and face pressed against his sleeve. Of all the scenarios he's imagined with seeing you again, he never thought it'd be like this. Had been so sure it would be clear where he'd stand with you if you were to ever appear in his life again.

But, it wasn't that simple. Because nothing in his life was ever that simple. Of course, he still loved you – an annoying fact that was hard to ignore. Yet, he'd be able to do it, would be able to move on despite his heart being filled with you, if it wasn't for the fact that you had a kid together now.

A human binding the two of you, of which he hadn't even met. And he wanted to. Wanted nothing more than to be apart of that kid's life, but that meant being apart of your life too. He had been too afraid to get the answer's from you today, not wanting his deepest worry to become true within your words.

Not knowing was better than knowing in his mind. Whatever it was, why you left him – took your unborn child and bolted, he didn't want to know. Afraid that it would be something so horrible that it'd crumble his already cracked heart.

“Everything alright back there, Mister Agust?” His driver speaks noticing the shake of Yoongi's back that accompanies the fresh tears that roll down his cheeks. Face hidden, he takes a moment to compose himself before lifting his head.

The back of his hand wiping at his damp eyes before he's pushing his hair back on his forehead. Eyes shifting to look out the window as he nods his head. A heavy sigh falls from his lips, dark sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose to cover his reddening eyes.

Tires skid to a complete stop in front of the building and Yoongi is stepping out of the car, hands shoved in his pockets as he takes slow steps to the front doors of the studio.

Words leave his lips as a hushed plea, a delayed answer to the question he had been asked in the car. What he had been thinking since he first scrolled through your pictures, seeing the life you had created without him.

“I just want to see my kid.”

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

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eleutheramina · 3 years

Text

The Whale Star Thoughts

Read the English translations / tried my best to understand the Korean of the manhwa The Whale Star / The Gyeongseong Mermaid (up to the most recently released chapter) and wanted to process it - spoilers under the cut.

First off, since only about the first 39 chapters or so are translated into English, my understanding of the events after that is much spottier, but I think I was able to follow the main character dynamics and plot points. I also didn’t know much about the Japanese occupation of Korea beforehand (and still don’t know a ton now beyond what’s touched on in the manhwa).

Regardless, I can say even without knowing Korean that the art is gorgeous with great colors, lighting, and details; the characters are fleshed out well and the women play prominent roles; and the motifs of the Little Mermaid, the ocean, being a fish are used beautifully and compellingly. For example, I loved how the water which Yoonhwa is that allows Soo-a to breathe is described to be living in is “poison” in ch 14 - I think referring to the patriarchy that resulted in Yoonhwa’s treatment and also how even someone from a high status, Japanese-pleasing family like her is still susceptible to the toxic impact of Japanese occupation.

Though to be honest, the main reason I’m writing is the process the character Haesoo, whom I didn’t think too much of initially but eventually became the most interesting character to me. He clearly has lived an extremely sad life and feels the effects of the trauma inflicted throughout the fight for Korean independence keenly. He’s a great foil to Eui-hyeon - arguably more morally gray, more viscerally/personally traumatized by violence - which I think results in the “fear” that Haesoo admits to feeling before their mission that Eui-hyeon does not. While Eui-hyeon teaches Soo-a how to read and write, Haesoo teaches her how to use a weapon. Soo-a seems to trust Eui-hyeon implicitly while having a very justified aversion to Haesoo, and she’s driven throughout the story by both her feelings for the former and her desire to get revenge against the latter.

And I can’t not mention how the Haesoo and Soo-a relationship is rich and complicated. While not entirely surprising, I did not expect Haesoo to develop feelings for Soo-a in the way he clearly does. Even though I started the story mostly invested in the development between Soo-a and Eui-hyeon, and it’s clearly the more mutual, healthier relationship and isn’t short of thematic richness, I ended up wishing for more interactions between Haesoo and Soo-a (even though I knew it was never going to be a thing and probably shouldn’t in the narrative).

Haesoo, of course, poisoned Soo-a, leaving her voiceless and traumatized. Soo-a understandably feels very on edge around him and tries to attack him when she sees him again for the first time. Haesoo also didn’t leave the experience without any scars, clearly feeling haunted himself for poisoning her even if he knows he would make the same decision again.

I like how a recurring theme in their relationship is Haesoo being ready to die and Soo-a forcing/urging him to live - stopping Haesoo from taking the poison, carrying his wounded body to the monk’s place, yelling at him when he says he wants to rest. “Why do people throw their lives away so easily?” Soo-a asks, and I think it’s a well-established part of her character that she values life - she expresses great sorrow over the dead whale and urges the doctor to help Eui-hyeon.

It’s significant and shows Haesoo’s growth that his last words to Soo-a are asking her to live.

Now, it is indeed hard to see them as a healthy, feasible couple without a lot of development in fanfiction land (and also without Eui-hyeon out of the picture in some way), but I think it could be fun to write about their dynamic, which is certainly less wholesome and sweet than Eui-hyeon and Soo-a’s is, but I think still with care and respect (for the most part aha).

I also find myself dwelling a lot on the monologue Haesoo has leading up to his death - especially the thought that Haesoo has about wondering about how he would have made the same choice if he had met Soo-a again in the same circumstance, and ultimately rejecting the idea of him owing his life to her like Eui-hyeon did in favor of the time in the mountain in the winter they shared together. (I think represented in the different fairy tales evoked for them - Little Mermaid vs Snow Maiden).

“If I could go back to the mountain where I spent the winter with you, that’d be good.”

Part of me is just a sucker for any time a character wistfully says something like “I wish we could just go back to X time/location,” but I think it is also heartwarming that toward the end of his life, for someone who suffered so much tragedy and hardship and brushed with death on multiple occasions, he still ultimately really treasured his relationship with Soo-a and the brief period of time they were together.

I also find his final scene -- “waking up from a dream” in Yeonhaejoo with his brother Haeyoung and surrogate little sister Nokjoo beautifully tragic and fitting. I found it strange that we don’t see much of Haesoo mourning or generally thinking about Nokjoo after her death (unless there is more in the latter half of the series that I missed because of not understanding the Korean), especially compared to Soo-a who has known her for much less time. Of course, it’s clear he’s upset when she dies and he thinks of her when he breaks down in tears in front of Soo-a, but I wonder if part of his lack of thinking about it overtly can be explained by how much he acts toward her like he’s not secretly part of a dangerous Korean independence organization and tries to preserve her innocence as much as possible; i.e., he still mostly associates her with Yeonhaejoo.

In the end, his last line is about his dream being in Joseon, which obviously refers to the physical location where he spent his life after leaving Yeonhaejoo, but also I think could refer to Soo-a, who is often representative of Joseon as a whole.

#the whale star #the gyeongseong mermaid #gorae byul

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aliasimagines · 4 years

Text

One Hell of a Night // Luke Patterson

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL, it officially passed midnight here.Are you guys going to celebrate Halloween at home? And if so are you going to dress up? Tell me all about it lovelies, I wanna hear it ❤️. prompt 18 nad 15 from this list🎃 this fic is chaotic, hope you enjoy😊

word count: 2692

warnings: a few (three i think?) curse words, and a..uhm a line of dirty talking (I'm sorry I'm not like this all the time I promise 😅) and scary stories

The dry, colorful autumn leaves creaked under hiking boots as you walked into the woods. A smile appeared on your face as you heard some noises. Only a few seconds later you spotted the source. The Sunset Curve. The boys worked on getting the campfire lit while joking and laughing loudly. You stopped by a tree and leaned against it. Alex just hit Reggie on the back for just sitting around and not helping with putting logs and dry leaves on the fireplace. Thanks to Alex, Reggie swallowed the huge marshmello he had in his mouth and started coughing.

Bobby was trying to light his lighter again and again but it just didn't work. That's when Luke threw a pack of matches at him causing the rhythm guitarist to stumble back and fall into a pile of leaves. You started laughing quietly and walked up to them.

"That wasn't nice of you, babe." you said from behind Luke. He jumped, not noticing you creeping up on him.

"BAH! I almost got a heart attack, y/n!" he shouts pouting. You giggled and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

"That's what you get for not waiting for me." you smirk. Luke looks down embarrassed and goes to scrape the back of his head.

"Yeah…Sorry about that. I was too eager to set up the camp." he gestured at the two tents. Both were full of blankets and pillows. It looked super comfortable. You also spotted his acoustic guitar, and a whole bunch of food in you guys' tent.

"You did a great job."you smiled before walking over to the other boys." Hi guys! What's up?"

"Y/N! Finally! Tell Alex to stop hitting me!" yelled Reggie. You shook your head laughing.

“Stop being so childish than Reginald!”

“Boys, come on!! It is halloween, have some fun!” and with that you fished out a huge bag of candy from your backpack and threw it into Reggie’s hands. He looked up at you like you were some kind of miracle maker.

“Is this..is this all candy?” the dark haired boy asked, still in awe. You laughed, nodding your head slightly.

“Yeah. I don’t really want to think about how much money I spent on sweets.”

Soon after everyone got to work (this time for real) and the fire was lit in no time. Just as it started to get darker. All five of you sat around the campfire. You sat next to Luke, opposed to Reggie and Alex. Bobby sat beside them in a camping chair. Thanks to the warm californian weather you didn’t need jackets just yet, despite being the end of october.

"It's getting dark. I think we could get started on the ghost stories?" asked Bobby looking up at the sky then around the little clearing in the woods where your tents were set up. Reggie munched on some candy corns but immediately stopped upon hearing those words.

"Ghost stories? Don't mind if I do." he sat his candies aside and prepared to tell a story that would send shivers down your spines. You leaned over to Luke, placing your head on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile before turning his attention back to the bassist.

"One day, a little boy, while walking around the woods, found a big toe on the ground. He ran home with it and-"

"-his mom cooked it in the soup which revolted in the toe's owner haunting them." you suddenly cut Reggie off. He gasps, offended.

"What? I knew the story. Was I supposed to just sit around?" you ask, earning a soft laugh from Luke. Reggie huffed and gestured at you.

"Alright then, take it away y/n. See if you can do better."

"Not to be that person but she definitely can. You only said like two sentences." Alex jumped in, not wanting to miss an opportunity to roast his friend.

"Because she cut me off!!"

The woods, once again erupted with the boys' laughter as you stared into the fire, waiting for them to quiet down so you can start your story.

"I was only a small kid when this happened, around five,maybe six, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. My mother was out of town for the weekend because of her work, so naturally, it was my father who read me a bedtime story in the evening. Everything was great, he was reading from my favorite book but right before he could finish the chapter we heard a quiet tapping noise from downstairs. My father looked puzzled and put his finger against his lips, signaling me to stay quiet so he could listen. The tapping didn't stop, it got louder before turning into banging and a final loud crash which sounded like the front door flying open. I looked at my father, scared to death, not knowing what to do." you kept your voice low, your face straight and never removed your eyes from the fire."He grabbed me and quickly ran with me to the small bathroom that was connected to my room. He instructed me to lock my door and only open it when he says so. I don't know what happened after that, but heard my father going down and some muffled noises before hearing him climb back up the stairs. I remember his voice. It was just so nice and comforting. He said it was a false alarm and I could come out. I reached for the doorknob but then he leaned down and looked inside through the keyhole. My little hands stopped midair. I kept staring at his eyes. He repeated that it was safe to come out and that everything was fine. But I did not believe him. Because that wasn't my father. He sounded exactly like him, but his eyes… They were a different color. Not my father's welcoming eye color. So I just stood there. For minutes. Maybe hours. He wouldn't stop talking, reassuring me but I still didn't unlock the door."

Reggie leaned forward with a worried and scared expression.

"What happened next?"

You lifted your gaze, slowly to look at the spooked boy.

"He started tapping. It sounded just like it did on the front door. And it wasn't long before he started banging his hand against the wood."

"Oh my god.." Reggie whispers.

"He is hitting harder and harder until finally the door breaks and flies open. And the creature, no longer looking or sounding like my father, rather like a tall bloodied figure with sharp teeth, jumps at me, opening his huge mouth and SWALLOWS ME WHOLE." you shout the last part causing Reggie to scream and the others to jump just a little.

"Fuuckk, i think I peed myself!" exclaims Reggie. You only laugh, seeing all the boys being a bit paler.

"So who's next?"

"I'll go." Luke said beside you and you shifted away from him, knowing that he will need the space to gesture along his story. You watched as he started to speak. His expression changes with every sentence as he introduces his characters. His frown as he talks about a creepy night in the woods. Your eyes wander down to his lips, too busy just staring at them to actually listen to the words that make them move. You distantly hear various curse words from the guys as your boyfriend goes deeper into detail with his horrifying story. With eyes still glued to Luke, you smile slightly.

"../n...y/n...Y/N!" you hear making you jump and almost falling backwards on the log you have been sitting on. You see all the guys staring at you.

"How are you not scared? Did you not hear Luke's story?" Reggie asks, earning a knowing laugh from Alex.

"No, she did not. She was too busy staring at his lips." as your friend's words hit your ears you feel your face heating up.

"Dude..,alright I might have zoomed out. A bit but I am here now. Where were you, babe?"

Luke looks at you, amused.

"I finished like 3 minutes ago. You 'zoomed out' for legit 20 minutes."

Looking up at the sky, you realized they were right because it got pitch black since you last looked up. Your lips curved into an 'o' shape before mumbling a sorry..

“We should put more wood on the fire. It's starting to weaken.” says Reggie. Bobby points into the dark woods.

“Suit yourself, man.”

“What? I am not going alone. Someone come with me.” he whines. Alex visibly changes his posture and sits into a more comfortable position.Luke puts his muscular arm around your shoulder grinning.

“You’re on your own, man.”

“No! Please??”

You bite back a laugh and carefully remove Luke’s arm from you.

“Alright, I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you!You are amazing!”

You grab the basket ,that’s been laying on the ground, for the twigs. You also reach into your bag for your flashlight.

“Ok, I’m ready to go.” you step towards Reggie but Luke grabs your hand and places a small kiss on it.

“Be careful, love.”

“Always.”

The two of you start walking towards the woods.

“Try not to pee yourselfs guys!” Alex calls after you in a sing-song voice.

“Ha ha, very funny Alex.”

To be honest you were a little spooked but didn’t show it.Not like Reggie who was literally shaking beside you and jumped up at every little noise he heard as you got further into the woods. You picked up a few sticks and bigger twigs, slowly filling the basket with them. Or rather, you tried but when Reggie stoped right in front of you you accidentally dropped it spilling the stuff everywhere.

“Dude! I am trying to help you here!”

“Shhhhh! Didn’t you hear that?” he whispers, voice panicked.

“Come on, Reg. This isn’t going to work on me.”

He turns to look at you.

“No, y/n! I am serious! I heard a whisper! I’m sure of it!”

You roll your eyes, not believing your friend.

“You gotta be more convincing next time. I dont scare that easily..AH” just as you assured Reginald how it takes more for you to get spooked, someone, or something grabbed you from behind and started to pull you while shouting ‘WAA’. The flashlight landed on the ground too as you let out a bloodcurdling scream. You kicked your attacker(s?) wherever you could.

“Ahh! WHoo, stop, it’s just us.” you suddenly hear your boyfriend's voice and feel the arms around you letting go. You turned around your fear vanishing and turning into anger.

Reggie behind you falls on the ground,clutching his chest while he tries not to cry.

“ARE YOU GUYS INSANE?!” you shout at Luke and Booby. Alex is nowhere to be seen, he probably stayed next the fire to keep an eye on your stuff. Luke's eyes immediately widen upon hearing you raise your voice.

“I..I am sorry we thought-”

“What?! Lucas Patterson I am, so, so mad at you right now” you say shaking. You hear Bobby giggle quietly. You snap your head in his direction. “And don't even get me started on you Bobby...Bobby..uhm” you stop to think about his surname, only to realise you don’t know it. For a moment you let go of your anger. “What is your surname?”

He only scoffs and smiles. Alex must have heard the shouting and come to investigate with a flashlight in one hand and a drumstick (as a weapon?) in his other.He soon puts them down tho as he sees that you are all in one piece. Luke looks at Bobby with a puzzled expression.

“That is actually creepy, cause I don’t know it either.”

“What?! How? He has been in a band for, what? A year and a half? And you never actually asked his last name?” you ask, more interested in the mystery of Bobby’s name than shouting at them now. Luke shrugs.

“Do you even have a last name?” you hear Reggie asking from the ground. You all turn to him with questioning looks.

“Everyone has a last name Reginald.” says Alex.

“Not celtic gods, no.” he responds.

“What?” Luke exclaims clearny not understanding the bassist.

“Bobby is not a god.” says the drummer annoyed. “ He is a normal teenager like us.”

“Is he tho?”

Meanwhile Bobby leans back against a tree and stares at Reggie.

“You are creeping me out...Please stop creeping me out oh majestic god of...what are you the god of?”

Booby just smiles mysteriously.

“Oh for f…’s sake.Y/N back me up here, there are no gods and even if there were, Bobby is not one of them.”

“Thanks Alex but I am not offending a celtic god.”

“What is wrong with you guys?!”

Luke doesn’t know who to look at in this chaos. Soon he decides to pick up the twigs and collect more while you, Reggie and Alex argue whether Bobby is a god or not. Bobby bends down too, to help the lead singer.

“You do know my name is actually Wilson, right?”

“Yeah. Of course I do, I think Reggie does too, he just forgot.” the two boys laugh.

You all walk back to the camp and Booby, upon seeing Reggie still looking at him suspiciously walks over to him.

“I am not an ancient god, you know.”

“That is exactly what I would say too.”

Not hearing Reggie’s nonsense reminds you of what Luke did so when you feel him wrapping his arms around you, you push him away.

“I sorry, bae. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have. Please look at me?” he stands before you so there is no way you can avoid him.

“Don’t do this again.” you said with a firm tone. You can't help but smile, seeing Luke’s shit eating grin. He opens his arms once again but waits for you to hug him first. You do, and for minutes you just stand there in his embrace. The silence was broken by the familiar sound of the acoustic guitar which was followed by Reggie’s voice as he started to play some country song.

“Dude, no, put down my guitar.”Luke ran off to get his instrument or to, at least convince him to play ‘normal’ music. You laugh and walk over to Alex and Bobby.

“Hey, y/n, I am sorry about scaring you.”

You wave your hand.

“It’s fine. However don’t be surprised when I get back at you.” you say before sitting down next to Reggie and giving him a hug because let’s be honest he was pretty traumatised in the woods too.

“Woo,hey! Why does he get a hug?” Luke asks, upset he couldn’t change Reggies mind about playing country songs. And from the fact that his girlfriend was hugging him.

“Maybe because you decided that it was a funny idea to scare the living shit out of him and I.”

“Stop guilt tripping me.” he pulls you up and away from the fire, closer to the tents. ”I said I am sorry. And you are right, I shouldn’t have scared you. Besides…” he leaned closer to your ear “I know more fun ways to make you scream.”

You gasp upon hearing his words and right when you are about to react Alex walks by casually.

“No, no. With the tents it’s like we are sleeping next to each other. If you guys try anything I will murder you myself.”

Both of you look after him, blushing before breaking into laughter.

Luke’s watch showed 3:58 when you all agreed to call it a night.You put out the fire with the help of Bobby while Luke went to pack away the trash you all left out.

Reggie yawned and looked up at Alex.

“I am still pretty scared...Can I cuddle you Alex?”

He looks at him like he heard it wrong.

“Absolutely not.”

“What about you Bobby?”

“No way, Reg.”

Despite them saying this, all three of them woke up hugging each other in the morning.

#Julie and the phantoms x reader #Julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp imagine #jatp one shot #jatp x readet #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson one shot #reggue jatp imagine #reggie reginald imagine #alex jatp imagine #bobby jatp imagine #bobby the celtic god #halloween imagine #reggie jatp x reader #luke jatl x reader #alex jatp x reader #bobby jatl x reader #alias imagines

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kerikaaria · 3 years

Text

Premiere

(Jungkook x gn!Reader) Oneshot, Established relationship

Genre: (G) Fluff

Warnings: None!

WC: 1.8k

Description: You’d do anything for your boyfriend, even if that meant sitting through the premiere for a horror movie.

A/N - Written for the lovely @aroseforyoongi ‘s birthday! We were given random prompts by picking two random numbers. My words were: Dedication and horror. AND I HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DO. HORROR???? I couldn’t figure out where to go with that! So I’m also giving a HUGE thanks to @eternalseokjin for being amazing and giving me the basis for this little oneshot!

Happy birthday, Dianchie! I wish you all the best, always.

You hated horror movies.

It was a mystery to you how people actually enjoyed being scared out of their wits as they watched a killer hunt everyone down, or a ghost slowly drove its victims to insanity. So why, one may ask, were you currently on your way to the opening premiere of a horror movie?

Simple—you loved your boyfriend much more than you hated horror movies.

Jungkook had been working hard at his dream of being an actor, getting his hands on any role he could. With each job, he hoped the right people would manage to see him and his potential in the few scenes and fewer lines he was offered and be able to make his big break.

This was the first big step to that for him. With a little luck, the director had picked Jungkook out at the auditions and offered him the lead role for the movie. And even luckier, it was a movie that a lot of people were looking forward to and was projected to do fairly well. If it did go as well as hoped, then maybe this could lead to that big break he’d been hoping for for years.

What kind of person would you be if you didn’t agree to attend with your loving boyfriend to the movie premiere of what could be the start of the future of his career? So of course, you agreed to come. Jungkook was really apprehensive when he asked if you wanted to go, knowing your severe aversion to horror movies, and you were absolutely sure he would have understood if you said no. But there was no way you could do that to him. If he could sit through hours of those family gatherings your grandma set up every year and deal with the back-handed comments from relatives you hardly knew about how he’s wasting his time on his dream, you could do this for him. It couldn’t be that much more torturous than that, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself while you were attached to Jungkook’s arm, a smile on your face for the cameras. Much more important than your anxiety of sitting through the movie was the crucial real-life role you knew you had to play for Jungkook right now. He would never say it out loud in fear of putting pressure on you, but you knew that he needed you for support. The cameras couldn’t pick up the subtle hints you knew all too well that meant your introverted boyfriend was extremely nervous about making a good impression, and about how well the movie and his acting would be received by viewers. It was easy to shut down the anxiety when you knew he was relying on you to be a pillar for him.

As soon as the two of you made it into the room and found your seats you could feel Jungkook relax, body feeling lighter after being able to get away from the reporters’ questions and prying eyes. He loosened your grip on his arm so he could properly entwine his fingers with yours, giving your hand a firm squeeze as he leaned toward you.

“Thank you for coming, baby,” Jungkook whispered against your skin before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I appreciate you being here with me.”

“Of course,” you responded, turning to smile at him. “You know I’m always here to support you.”

“Let me know if the movie gets to be too much for you, okay?” Jungkook said, squeezing your hand once more. “We can leave at any point if you need to.”

You had absolutely no plans to cut this short for him. Even if turned out to be the scariest thing you’d ever seen, you were already steeling yourself to sit through the entire film. But to comfort Jungkook, you assured him that you’d indeed tell him if you felt like you had to leave.

Once the lights dimmed to signal that the movie was about to start, you felt the anxiety you’d kept at bay start to crawl its way up your chest. You kept it tampered down for the time being, reminding it that these movies didn’t start out with the really creepy stuff and you still had some time before the ghost was going to do anything.

It was made even easier when you first saw your handsome boyfriend appear on the screen only a few minutes in. You always watched everything he was in, no matter how small the role was. But now that he was the main focus and in the center, you couldn’t help but to be even more proud of him than ever.

Jungkook loved to learn every detail he could about his craft, including having an interest in directing and filmmaking as well. Days spent listening to him critique filming techniques made you also moderately familiar with the subject. While the movie wasn’t doing anything much different than you’d expect from this kind of film, you immediately noticed everything that set up the mood for a horror story. The desaturated and dark tones, soft ambient music and sounds in the background rather than a full-sounding soundtrack, and the ominous feeling behind Jungkook’s character being left a whole estate by a rich relative he had hardly even heard about. It was honestly incredibly well set-up, even if the plot was a bit predictable so far.

By distracting yourself with picking apart the details of how the film was setting up the story and admiring Jungkook’s talent and good looks, you almost forgot what kind of movie you were watching.

Almost.

When the first genuine jump scare happened about half an hour into the film, it held up to its name by making you nearly jump out of your seat. Even though he kept it quiet, you could tell Jungkook held back the chuckle that bubbled up due to your overreaction. He quickly steeled his expression though, leaning in to whisper, “You doing okay so far?”

“Yeah,” you were quick to respond. “I was just distracted.”

“Distracted? By what?”

“By how talented you are, of course,” you easily answered.

Seeing the hint of a shy smile on Jungkook’s face and the tension in the movie having calmed down for the time being put your restless heart temporarily at ease.

But of course, it wasn’t too long until the horror aspect of the movie was pulling into full swing and it was ominous music, jump scares, and creepy old ghost lady creeping around every corner galore. You tried to continue distracting yourself with the well-done editing and admiring your boyfriend some more, but it only went so far. Especially when your mind forgot to remind you that what you were seeing on screen was fiction and not your actual boyfriend in danger.

After a while, you gave up trying to actually see what was going on and hid your face in Jungkook’s arm, letting the close proximity remind you that he was indeed safe and sound next to you.

“Should we leave?” Jungkook gently asked, whispering close to one ear while he covered the other with his hand to help mute the sounds of the movie for you.

You shook your head, determined to make it through this. “I’ll be okay,” you meekly replied after lifting your head up so he could hear you. “How much longer, do you think?”

“It should be getting close to the climax, and then it’ll be a lot calmer. Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”

“I can do it,” you assured him. You turned your head back toward the screen in time to see Jungkook’s character running down a hallway to try to get some distance from the ghost. I can do it, you repeated in your mind.

Honestly, you would have preferred a slasher flick. Demon ghosts had too much power and were too unpredictable in what they could do, and the idea of fighting something virtually intangible scared the living daylights out of you. But this was your current reality and you were going to make it through this for Jungkook.

He was right, and it wasn’t too long before the climax began building up. It was a little easier to bear despite the increasing tension, knowing that Jungkook’s character was close to stopping ghost lady—you certainly hadn’t paid enough attention to find out if she had a name. Soon enough, the climax of the movie hit its peak and things started settling down to a much more manageable finish.

It took another five minutes for you to realize you were still clinging tightly to Jungkook’s arm out of reflex. Letting go, you mumbled out an apology for no doubt hurting him and telling yourself to remember and check him for bruises later.

When the credits finally rolled, you felt infinitely more relieved. You slumped in your seat, Jungkook not holding back his chuckle this time.

Before long everyone was shuffling out of the theater and while Jungkook smiled endearingly at you, you were listening to what others had to say about the movie. It relaxed you and put a smile on your face when you heard people complimenting Jungkook’s acting and about the plot twists that they didn’t expect—and you didn’t really know about because you were too busy burrowing into your boyfriend’s shoulder to notice.

You were glad the two of you lived together because even just walking out to your car in the dark had you constantly looking over your shoulder, expecting a murderous demon ghost lady to be on your tail. On the way home, the two of you kept conversation light by talking about how well you thought it went. Jungkook was still nervous about what the reception would be like, but he was much more excited now as well.

It was when the two of you were laying in bed that Jungkook said, “You know, I’m really proud of you for making it through the movie, baby.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes. “Good to know me watching a fictional horror film all the way through is such an accomplishment to be proud of.”

“You ran out of the room when we watched ‘Haunted Mansion’ because you thought it was too scary,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“It was! There’s a crystal ball with a floating head in it! How is that not scary?”

“The head wasn’t actually in there. Sorry to tell you babe, but a movie with a singing statue quartet isn’t scary.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, running out of juice to argue.

“Seriously though,” Jungkook said after a moment passed. “I really am proud of you. And I’m really happy you chose to come with me. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

“I love you,” you said in return, knowing he’d understand that those three words held a lot more meaning than just that.

“And I love you.” Jungkook smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You would readily do this again for Jungkook if he ever starred in another horror film. But that didn’t mean you’d stop being a big clingy scaredy-cat about it.

My ask box is always open!

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :) You can also check out my Etsy shop for BTS inspired charms as well!

#bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #fluff #actor!jungkook #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #kafenetwork

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wellhellotragic · 3 years

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These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal 3/4

Summary: It’s not her fault. She’s still new and doesn’t know. He’s not flawless. Not anymore. He’s got scars, ones she’s seen first hand. Ones she helped tend to. His body is covered in them. There’s a thin red line where he took a bottle to the face during his early beat cop days. There’s another angry red mark on his torso from where he was stabbed with a knife in his ribs. The one where he had his hand slammed in a locker as a teenager has long since faded, only the barest hint remaining, only visible in just the right lighting.

There’s two oval scars now too. One in his stomach and one on his chest. Those are from the worst day of her life.But none of those scars compare to the ones he carries on the inside. The self-inflicted cuts he makes to his soul never quite healing over. He blames himself. It’s not his fault.

There’s a scar on her soul now too. One he left. A piece of her heart forever missing.

Rating: Mature (mostly for language)

A/N: Guy, I suck so hard core. I don't even know how I let so much time lapse between chapter 2 and now, and then to really top off my suck-o-meter, I realized that there's going to have to be a chapter 4 because I can't fix what I've done so easily. Not realistically at least. I promise, and happy ending is coming though, and it won't take me another 8 months to get it up. I hope to have it up and finished by the weekend.

The AO3 version

It’s been a hell of a night. She’s not sure where exactly it falls on her list of worst days ever, but it’s in her top five. It has to be. It’s not the worst, that honor is saved for the night she almost lost Killian, but it’s still up there. She’s spent hours now going through all of the details over and over again with Graham and Lance, her story never changing. Getting poked and prodded by EMTs, despite telling everyone that she’s fine.

She’s not, but they can’t stitch up her insides.

David, her partner, on the other hand has a bullet hole in his leg. Better than his head though.

She’s not even sure if she can fully reconcile everything that happened. She and David were investigating the death of a low profile importer, a nobody, interviewing some dock workers that had found the body. Some gruff looking men who easily blended in with the usual fishmongers and cargo sorters.

But they weren’t. She realized it just a second too late, right before a bag was pulled over her head. She fought like hell, but she was at a disadvantage. From what she heard, David had put up a fight as well, but in the end, it was useless, and she lost consciousness with a sharp blow to the head.

She woke up strapped down to a chair with David the same a few feet beside her. She shouldn’t have been surprised, Jefferson had always given her a bad feeling, but she never actually thought he’d go dirty. She certainly never expected to be facing the wrong side of his department issued sidearm.

Even now, everything is still a blur. Graham assured her it’s the shock, that it’ll fade once the adrenaline wears off; that everything will clear up after a good night's rest. She’s not sure about that though. It’s four in the morning now and the adrenaline seems to be hanging on for dear life still and she knows she's not going to rest any time soon. Humbert offered to drive her home but she declined, choosing to wait for August to finish wrapping up his report.

She’s not sure what time it is when they finally arrive at her apartment. The battery in her cell phone died ages ago. Neither of them even make a move for the fridge, choosing to bypass the beer she keeps stocked for the hard nights. Instead, the two of them move in silence to her room. She plugs in her cell before crawling in bed next to him, like when they were kids in Ingrid’s foster house. She’s not sure who’s comforting who at this point, but she knows that she just needs to be with family.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She doesn’t, but she knows she needs to or it’ll eat her alive. She’s tried that once already and it ended up with her almost having a complete nervous breakdown and a three week leave of absence with daily Archie sessions.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

It’s true. So much has happened in the last twelve hours, there’s no one easy to pinpoint place to begin. So August goes first. He fills in the blanks that he can, so that she might be able to piece together the rest. He tells her about Killian sending him undercover, about Jefferson and missing drugs and money. How Jefferson was helping to conceal evidence that would link Walsh and the Nikko empire to a wide distribution of pixie dust.

Some of it is just speculation, that Jefferson must have figured out they were closing in on him and that’s why he went for Emma, and David was probably just collateral damage. How he most likely picked Emma because he knew how much she meant to him , and while he didn’t say Killian’s name specifically, the implication hung over her like a heavy cloud.

“Before you got there, he told Killian to choose. Between me and David I mean. To pick which one of us would live and which one would die. And then he just started laughing and screaming in this crazed voice that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

It was the single most terrifying thing she’d ever heard. The mania that accompanied it. She already knew that it was going to haunt her for months to come, if not longer.

It’s a real Gracie’s choice. Gracie’s choice Killian. GRACIE’s CHOICE!!!

She felt August shift next to her.

“Gracie was his daughter. She died while he was undercover with a Southie Gang. Killian was undercover with Cruella at the time. It was a freak accident, a gas leak and the house went up in flames, but he was convinced that she was killed by one of the De Vil boys. He told me once that he knew Killian had given him up as a snitch to prove his worth. The De Vil’s had nothing to do with the Southie boys, but he’d twisted it up in his mind. I never thought he’d do anything about it though. It was just crazy drunk venting one night.”

She knows August. Knows that he’s blaming himself for what happened tonight, but she ignores it. Nothing she says will stop him from tormenting himself, and she’s not done.

“I told him to choose David. He has this whole perfect life, you know. An adoring wife and a new baby, all of these people that would miss him if he were gone. I told Killian to save David, and I-” She hates how small she feels when she cries, but she can’t hold back the tears. “He gave me this look. He’s been cold, but this was something different. There was just so much anger in his eyes.”

And that’s when she breaks. Knowing that hated her was one thing, but watching him train his gun on her. Seeing the pure darkness in his eyes. She doesn’t know how to voice it to August, but she knows that if August hadn’t arrived when he did, she knows he would have done as she asked. That he wouldn’t have had to think twice about it. And it’s that knowledge that sliced open the last piece of her heart that had been hanging on by a thread, even after all that time.

August holds her through the tears, until she finally exhausts herself enough to sleep. And so she drifts off, completely unaware of the new voicemail alert waiting for her.

________________________________

The February air is cooler on the water and he kicks himself for not bringing a heavier jacket. It’s been ages since he’s been out on this boat, and time has helped him to forget everything except for the things he wishes he could. Liam always used to tease him, so much so that Killian would reject any offers of warmth from his brother just to prove a point. He wasn’t some silly kid that needed to be minded anymore. He was capable of doing everything on his own, except for bringing an extra coat. He forgot everytime, and today was no exception.

Luckily for Killian, the spare that Liam kept on the boat just for him is still in its place, folded neatly in a small storage locker below deck. It hits him in the gut a little, that Liam could be so right about some things and incredibly wrong about others.

It’s eating Killian alive, not talking to his brother. Not being able to express himself because despite everything Emma has done for him, Liam still doesn’t approve of her. Liam often still thinks of him as the teenage boy, awkward and desperate for approval from anyone that will give it to him, even if it means getting taken advantage of.

He’s not that kid anymore though. He isn’t letting his crush steal his essays and letting her claim this as her own. He isn’t using all of his hard earned money to buy her jewelry that she’s just going to pawn for cash later. He isn’t following after Emma like a lost puppy dog.

He’s in love with her, and he has a sneaking suspicion that she feels the same way. But at this rate, he’s never going to get Liam’s blessing, the only approval he needs anymore.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this now. He really shouldn’t. Not when he and Liam are sitting in a rented dilapidated loft across from an abandoned fabric warehouse waiting for the Canal Street Cutter to emerge. There had been a lot of chatter that morning about where he might be hiding and Liam assembled teams throughout South Boston hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Emma and August were stationed about eight blocks over. Lance and Arthur were on the edge of South Boston and Waterfront. Other teams were scattered, but too far away to get to if they needed assistance.

Killian had tried to tell Liam that it was a bad idea to spread everyone so thin, but the elder Jones brother had been instant and headstrong as ever. It would have been a career making arrest, and Liam, ever aspiring to be more just wouldn’t let that chance pass him by.

“I just think that you have other obligations that require your attention right now.”

“If this is the bros before hoes speech you can just save it.”

“Killian,” The exasperation evident in his brother's tone, “you know I detest such vile language. It's crude and you are better than that little brother.”

“What obligations?” He has to quash his desire to correct his brother’s description of him.

“I just think that you are meant for so much more in this life and I worry that you gave up so much when you left the narcotics division to follow her into homicide. You were a rising star there and now you’re having to cut your teeth all over again.”

“It’s not as if I’m starting all over. For God’s sake Liam, I just made Lieutenant. But there’s more to life than a job.”

His brother takes his gaze away from the binoculars to turn to Killian.

“Look at father and all of his vices. It strayed him from the path. But you, Killian, you persevered and now everything you've wanted is in your grasp.”

“This isn't the same thing and you know it. Emma isn't some pathetic man’s addiction. Liam, I'm in love with her.”

“Killian,” Liam pauses, taking a deep breath. “She's a distraction. Think of all that you’ve accomplished in the year that you were undercover. You brought down an entire crime syndicate. You did that without her taking your attention away.”

“I didn't bring the De Vil family down because ‘we’ were apart. I did it because we were ‘apart’ and I knew the only way I'd be able to see her again without putting her in harm's way would be to find the evidence and make the arrest.”

“Fine, if you need another reason, have you thought about working directly with her, or even over her in a supervisory position? Have you considered how your personal relationship with a subordinate could affect your judgment?”

“It’s not-”

Liams sees movement in the distance, cutting off Killian’s rebuttal, but his view is obscured so he motions for Killian to follow him, to leave the safety of their little room. They stay silent as they walk downstairs and head out a propped-open door leading to an alleyway. They had to wind through hallways to get from the loft outside and now they’re further away from the warehouse with no cover.

Killian even tries pointing out how visible they are, but Liam shuts him down, determined to close the case. He’s halfway sure that Liam’s trying to prove a point about how Killian can’t be successful and be in a relationship with Emma. He’s seen it before, the way professional jealousy destroys couples. But Emma’s not like that. She wouldn’t see his success as her failure.

They try to skirt the perimeter and he knows he should keep his mouth shut, this just isn’t the time, but he’s just so frustrated that he can’t keep holding it in.

“Please don’t make me choose between you.” It’s an angry whisper, more to himself than anything, and even though he did his best to keep his volume low it’s still enough that Liam’s heard and turns back to him, missing sight of the empty beer bottle at his feet.

The glass battering against the gravel echoes through the night as they both stay silent, waiting to see if they’ve been heard. The air is still around them, and Killian thinks they just might have lucked out.

And then he hears the gunshots ring out.

Liam is on the ground before Killian has time to register what’s happened. He runs to Liam, but gets knocked to the ground before he can get to him. His body hurts and he can see blood covering his hand from where he just touched his abdomen. He’s always heard people say that the shock blocks out the pain, but they must all be liars, because the longer he lays there, the more the pain intensifies.

It takes everything he has to pull himself behind a dumpster, half crawling, half slithering like a snake.

The shock eventually did kick in though, because even to this day he has no memory of radioing in for help. Just the vague memories of Emma leaning over him. The look in her eyes as she tried her best to hold back tears.

The same tears he fought back the night he left Boston, like the coward he was. But Archie was right. He needed to get his head on straight, to distance and center himself. He had to leave, for her.

He’s still wrestling with the guilt. He talked about it with Archie, how she begged him to kill her and save David. And that he actually considered it for about two full seconds. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t want her feeling the way he did. The burden of knowing that someone else was dead, and knowing that no matter how good you are, how hard you try, that you’ll never live up to them. He didn’t want her hating herself the way he did. Didn’t want her to destroy herself like he had.

But then something snapped inside of him and rage bubbled up. The audacity of her to beg him to kill her. For her to try and force that decision on him, with no regard to him or his feelings.

It was at that moment that he finally realized what he’d been doing to her ever since Liam had passed away. He finally understood the choice she’d been forced to make that night. And he knew - he knew that despite it all - he could never live with himself if he’d chosen anyone but her. That he couldn’t let her go just like she didn’t with him.

The only thing that saved him was Boothe. In the moments that passed after August arrived, while the two of them tried to wrestle the gun away from Jefferson, he felt the weight of Liam’s death wash over him. And then he heard a shot ring out and there was nothing but panic. Panic and guilt.

It felt as though ages had passed as he searched for Emma in the smoke filled room. The SWAT team had moved in at some point, but he’d been too focused on fighting off Jefferson to notice. He pushed through the sting in his eyes and the tightness of his chest as he looked for her, but all he saw through the haze were armored cops everywhere.

It wasn’t until he was forcibly escorted outside the building that he saw her, saw that she was safe, and then his stomach turned. He ran around a corner away from all of the prying eyes, and for the first time in his career, he gave in and let the night overcome him.

It’s been nearly a year since that night and he’s been running ever since. Some days are better than others. The anger is mostly behind him, but some nights he still wakes up in a sweat clutching his bed sheets, ready to fight. But there’s never anyone around to take a swing at, because he’s all alone. He’s pushed away anyone that ever mattered and isolated himself on that damn boat.

He thinks of Emma, wonders if she’s moved on or not. He’s too cowardly to call her, partly because he has no idea what he will say if she answers, but mostly because he’s terrified that she won’t answer. So he broods. He takes to the local bars as he sails the coastline and drinks a little too much before stumbling back to Liam’s boat alone. It’s a wonder nobody’s robbed him yet for what a careless sot he’s been.

Tonight is one of those nights. He’s made his way down to Florida and back, only a few hours away from Boston, and his demons are screaming again. He’s hoping against all hope that the rum in the tumbler across from him will help quiet them. Just holding the small glass in his fingertips helps a bit. A placebo of sorts. He doesn’t want to be this man anymore though. This pathetic lonely human. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Archie said that him realizing it was a good first step but he’s not sure if he agrees. He’s called Archie a lot over the last year. Somehow doing therapy over the phone as the boat sways back and forth under his feet has helped to ease his hesitancy. There’s something about knowing that he can hang up at any time if he wants, and that no one knows. No one will judge him.

They don’t talk about Emma, not in present tense at least. They’ve had conversations about the way he’s treated her in the past, about his complicated feelings for her, the way it’s all shaped him, but they never talk about her now. He’s not sure if it’s because Archie doesn’t know if he’s ready for that, or if Archie knows something that he’s absolutely not ready for.

Archie is here tonight though, the rum is.

He’s still twirling the amber in his hand as he hears the familiar scraping of a nearby barstool against a wooden floor. There’s a scent that follows, a floral perfume that doesn’t match with the musk of the dive bar. He doesn’t look at her directly, doesn’t need to when he can see her from the mirror behind the bar. Her top is low, flashing more skin that it’s covering. She’s closer than he thought.

“Is that for me?” She’s bold.

He’s reminded of those early days on the force, when he wouldn’t even have to talk to a woman. When he could just flash her a smile and she’d be on his arm heading out the door to her place. He’s not that guy though, he’s salty and cynical, and the look he flashes her is closer to a smirk.

“Excuse me?” “Well, you’ve been toying with it for almost twenty minutes. I just thought maybe you were waiting for me to walk into your life.”

Was he this bad at picking up women?

“Look, I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m not in the mood for woman.” “So you’re gay?”

It’s a good thing he hasn’t started drinking yet because he damn well might have chocked otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond though. The bubbly blonde that served him his rum has returned with a spray bottle in hand. “Mary of Mothers. Didn’t I already have you escorted out of here tonight, Teresa?”

“Bite me, Tinkerbelle.”

The girl behind the bar might be all of five foot tall but there’s a beast inside her that towers over any man in that bar and before he knows what’s happening the bartender is drowning the girl in what smells like stainless steel cleaner and the words coming out of her mouth would make any Navy man blush.

The girl ends up running away and Killian isn’t sure what to make of any of it. He’s broken up bar fights before, but he’s never seen anything quite like that.

“Sorry about that. I know this little bar might not seem like much, but it’s all I’ve got and I’ll be damned if I let the likes of her selling her body in here.” “Oh, she wasn’t-” “Trust me, where you had agreed upfront or not, you would have been light whatever cash you have left in that wallet before the night was up. And I’ll bet you dollars to pennies you would have had a lovely little itch or two down there.” She nods her head towards his crotch before switching the subject like she hadn’t just implied the poor woman from before was an STD ridden whore. “So, I haven’t seen you here before. Where you from?”

He’s not sure how she’s disarmed him so quickly, but he finds himself telling her all about himself over the next hour. Business has slowed down and her other barmate seems to be more than capable of handling the few strays still walking in.

She makes him laugh too with her feisty spirit. It’s been far too long since he’s felt at ease like this. They talk and talk. Not about much in particular, just random conversation. She bought the bar about six years ago, and tells him about how it’s let her build the family she always wanted and never really got. She’s carved out her own little place in the world and he envies her that. The way she can just lay her whole life bare to a complete stranger while he can’t even talk to the people that know him best.

The night rolls on and it’s time to close up. He half expects that she’s going to invite him upstairs, to the little apartment she mentioned earlier, but she surprises him. She’s done that a few times tonight, but this one hits him in the gut. “So, what’s her name?”

This time he actually does chock on the water she’s poured for him.” “I’m sorry, what?”

“Killian, in the last few hours, you’ve told me your entire life story, everything from your shitty father to your arrogant brother, your job, your leave of absence, but you haven’t mentioned a girl one single time. You’re holding back, which means there’s something to hold back.”

“You don’t know that. I could be gay.” “Um, ya, I saw you check out Teresa’s rack earlier, definitely not gay. So what’s the deal.” He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he doesn’t want to be rude either. So he gives her as little as possible, but she sees through him. In fact, she actually asks him what the hell he’s waiting for as she pushes him out the door.

He doesn’t really know what he’s waiting for to be honest. He’s wanted to go back to Boston, but there’s just so many threads he left unravelled when he left.

#These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #CS fanfics

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vanderlindemorgans · 3 years

Text

Cross My Heart (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings are as follows - mentions of alcohol, descriptions of blood, Whiskey being a bit of an ass and some brief talk of dead relatives.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

You watched him as he settled himself back down into the couch, taking note of every breath he took while he reclined back, refusing to look you straight in the eye. That didn’t bother you too much - you were too busy studying the myriad of bruises and cuts splayed along his body, from the tears and scuffs in his denim jacket to taking note of his perfectly maintained Stetson. How on Earth that thing had managed to escape from whatever situation Jack had gotten himself into unscathed mystified you, but from what you remembered of him you knew he loved that damn hat to death.

Neither of you had said a word to each other since he stumbled through your front door only moments before, that heightened sense of tension undoubtedly ripe in the air. You thought if you ever saw Jack Daniels face again that you’d have a couple of cutting remarks to say to him - if you ever did think about him that is, and you usually didn’t. Jack hadn’t haunted your thoughts for years now, memories of the summer you two first met and the cold dark of winter when you fell apart falling away to the sands of time. The last thing you ever expected was to have him show up on the front step of your ranch, looking like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. Gazing over him now, you felt it was somewhat your obligation to make sure he was fine: despite your less than amicable feelings towards him you weren’t about to let him die on your couch.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked him, a hint of uncertainty to your tone. He turned his gaze towards you and shrugged slightly, looking no less unsettled than he had a moment before. “I’m fine for now. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks”.

“You sure about that? No offense, but you kind of look like a wreck” you shot back, to which he replied with a small scoff. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart. I forgot how hospitable you were to those in your care”.

You could feel a spark of heat rise in your cheeks at his words, and almost wanted to retort back with something equally if not more biting. That fucking bastard. Here he was, lying on your couch looking like he’d walked out of a gang fight and he had the gall to give you attitude. “Alright, ignoring your completely rude and uncalled for attitude for a moment, you still haven’t answered my question. What the fuck did you get yourself into?” you asked.

There was a momentary pause where Jack looked back up at you, an expression of remorse crossing over his face in the brief glance he shot at you. Turning his gaze back down towards the wooden coffee table before him, he shook his head and sighed. “Sorry about that, darlin’.I just...I got myself into a bit of a tight situation. Things have gotten complicated now” he explained, prompting you to raise your brow at him.

“Yeah, I can see that. Who did this to you?”.

“Just some other agents. It doesn’t matter” he replied curtly.

“From where? Statesman?” you asked. After dating him for about a year, you were well aware of his position as an agent to Statesman, and you knew exactly what that job entailed. Jack had been injured before, sometimes worse than how he was now. You remembered once he came back from a mission with several different bones broken, multiple gunshot wounds and a concussion. You’d been left worried for weeks after that as he recovered, only being allowed short visits to see him due to the very nature of his job. This time was different though. You knew Jack was a survivor, but for him to show up out of the blue after several years of no contact, looking the way he did, something was horribly wrong. Studying his expression intensely, you couldn’t help but let out a low sigh in frustration. It annoyed you to some degree of how evasive his answers had been thus far. It was almost like he was ashamed to even say what had happened to him, ashamed to be even talking to you.

“No, no, they...they weren’t. That’s not important right now though” he finally answered, running the edges of his fingers over his tattered jeans. If it were any other day you would have been more upset at his dismissal of your question but upon seeing the troubled look on his face you felt it best to let it go. An uncomfortable silence had started to hang over the room, the space between you and him feeling more and more tense as the moments ticked by. You looked down at your shoes, taking note of every scuff and streak of mud as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and giving yourself another minute of hesitation before blurting out “Why are you in Dallas?”.

“It just so happened to be the place the cargo plane I was stowing away on landed. I wasn’t tryin’ to seek you out or anything, if you’ll believe me”.

His explanation gave cause for you to raise a single brow at him once more, not entirely believing it to be a coincidence that he just happened to show up in Dallas after seven years of radio silence. “Really? Why come here then? Don’t you have your agent buddies to fall back on for shit like this?” you inquired, your tone coming off far more biting and bitter than you originally intended it to. You could see Jack seize up slightly at your callousness, a pained expression passing over his face that made your breath catch in your throat for a second before you darted your eyes away from him, focusing back down to your shoes and deriding yourself for even having a moment of fleeting attraction to him. All these years and those pathetic puppy dog eyes still managed to get to you. Damn him.

“Usually, yeah. Not this time round though. I’ve…” he stopped himself, his eyes betraying the deep wounded pain woven within them, strengthening every second longer he dwelled on the memory of his former glory. “I’ve been kicked out of Statesman. Or, well, I haven’t officially been kicked but after what happened the other day I’d be a damn fool if I even tried to walk through their doors again”.

You blinked at him in confusion, his words not fully registering with you. Statesman kicked him out? Him of all people? You briefly considered the possibility that he was simply just pulling your leg and trying to gain some sort of sympathy but upon remembering the pained expression on his face you were instantly told all you needed to know about the truth behind his words. Ok, so he’s not lying, but still...why? “I find it hard to believe that they’d just boot out their best field agent. What did you do to warrant that?”.

You could see Jack’s mouth twitch slightly, indicating that he wasn’t entirely up for divulging such information. Running a hand through his hair, he trained his eyes to the ground and refused to look up at you as he went on to explain what exactly had gone down to lead him there. “Long story short, I had a disagreement of sorts with a couple of agents from a fellow organisation, and may have gone against Champ’s direct orders in order to hinder them. I guess you could say I went rogue” he elaborated, intentionally trying to keep some of the finer details out. You had half a mind to push for more info, though after another seconds thought you decided against that idea and instead settled for nodding at him semi-sympathetically. “I see. So...why are you here then?”.

He didn’t answer you right away, rather finding himself to be staring straight upwards at the wooden beams on the ceiling above. You analysed his expression, trying to find any sort of hint towards what he was thinking. Your eyes kept being drawn back to that dried gash of blood across his cheek, and you winced at the thought of him being in any sort of prolonged pain. Maybe you should have fetched some medical supplies for him after all - knowing Jack and the way he was, he always liked to downplay the dangers associated with his job. Every time he wound up in Statesman’s medical wing needing some sort of bullet taken out of him he never once admitted to ever being in pain. Getting injured was part of the job, he always said, so it wasn’t worth it to worry over him everytime he got hurt in the line of duty. He was an expert at saying he was fine when it was all too clear that everything wasn’t.

The sound of Jack sighing heavily pulled you from your thoughts, looking up to see him with his head in his hands, practically exhibiting every clear sign of tension in the book. A small part of you wanted to feel sorry for him, for seeing him like this. “Look, I realise this may be too much to ask of you, considering our history, and part of me hates that I have to in the first place but...I have nowhere else to go. I can’t go back home to either New York or Kentucky. I’m not an agent anymore, so I can’t ask any of them for help, and I’m almost a hundred percent sure that I’ve got some sort of bounty on my head now. I’m on the lam as they call it” he prattled. “I need a place to hide out, to lay low while I sort some shit out”.

The day had already been weird enough already, hearing him ask for your help was only just the cherry on top. Blinking slowly and with your mouth hanging open in utter disbelief, you blurted out “Let me get this straight: you need my help?”.

“Just for a little while, and I promise, sweetheart, as soon as I’m able to I’ll be outta your hair” Jack assured, turning his eyes upwards to you so that you could see his lovely brown eyes, the very same ones that you felt yourself get lost in all those long years ago. “I would never ask this of you unless I had no other choice. You and I both know that”.

You were at a complete loss for words. Between his tone and those frustratingly sweet eyes of his, you weighed your options carefully on what you should do. Should you let him stay with you? On one hand, with what he’d done to you years ago, something that still left you hurting even now, some part of you felt hostile towards him being around again. You remembered being young and 21, giving your heart out to him and only ever receiving empty promises in the end, leaving you with the painful memory of standing crestfallen on a flight of marbled stairs, on a night that you had sworn was gonna end with a ring ending instead with a shattered heart and never-ending glasses of merlot on your lips. Eventually, you’d learnt to live with the heartache. And pretty soon, for the most part, you’d forgotten. Seeing him there, tonight, in your living room of all places, was starting to bring those feelings back. No matter how hard you tried to stifle them, ignore them and focus on the matter at hand, you still felt the bitterness creep into your tone every time you opened your mouth.

Still, even though Jack had hurt you, you couldn’t just leave him out with nothing. From what he told you, he truly had nowhere else to run. If you threw him out now, he could be dead within hours. The mere thought of that made your heart sting, and despite any bad blood between you two you weren’t heartless, so with a small sigh, you at last settled on the answer you would give to him. “Alright. I’ll let you stay. On one condition though: you gotta help out a little with some of the ranch handling stuff. Once you’re all healed up from your injuries of course” you posited. “And don’t bother trying to butter me up, I’m not enough of an idiot to fall for your charms twice. I’m doing you a favour so it would be in your best interest to avoid pissing me off. You think you can handle that?”.

He smirked back at you, though it was void of it’s usual playfulness and felt to be more out of sadness than anything resembling his usual jackassery. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart, but yeah, of course. I’d be more than happy to help ya out”.

“Alright. Now…” you nodded at him before turning on your heel in the direction of the kitchen in search of some bandage and gauze for his injuries. “I am going to get you some medical supplies because even though you said you’re fine you clearly aren’t, and I’m not about to have you dropping dead in my goddamn living room. The blood would get all over the carpet and I ain’t lookin’ to pay to get it cleaned” you announced, dropping down to your knees and rifling through one of the lower kitchen cabinets for all the necessary items.

You could hear him chuckle from the living room, imagining him to be wearing a more toned down version of that charming grin he always seemed to have on him. “Ah, you wound me, my dear girl. Where are your folks?”.

His question made your heart seize in your chest, your hands grasped around the roll of bandage and bottle of antiseptic you’d scrounged out from the back of the cupboard. Rising to your feet, you stuttered on your words as you led yourself back into the living room with an arm full of different medical equipment. “They...they died a couple of years ago. It’s been just me for awhile” you answered back, doing your best to ignore the look of surprise that spread across Jack’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that, darlin’”.

Tearing off a strip of bandage, you motioned for him to give you his arm so that you could begin tending to some of the deeper cuts on him. “It’s ok. Well, not ok, really, but what can you do?” you murmured, brushing the length of his torn denim jacket out of the way and pressing down a dash of cold antiseptic cream across one of his cuts, watching as how he winced slightly from the sting. “Life goes on. It has to, or else you get left frozen”. Shaking your head, you began to tie the strip of fabric around his forearm, eager to get off the topic of your deceased loved ones as soon as possible. “I’ll put you up in the guest room upstairs. Don’t go through any of the shit in the cupboards, ok? It’s private stuff”.

“I would never dream of doing so, sugar”.

“Good. Lucky for you, none of these gashes seem too bad so they’ll most likely heal within a couple of days. I’ll just put a bit of adhesive over that awful one you got across your cheek and you’ll be right as rain in no time” you said, popping open the box of adhesive bandages.

Jack smiled at you, albeit weakly as you smoothed the bandage over his cheek. “Thank you for doing this for me. I mean it. Honestly, I didn’t think you were even gonna let me stay here”.

You shot him an odd look at that comment, leaning back down to pick up the various bits of first aid paraphernalia off the floor to deposit back onto the coffee table. “What do you take me for, Jack? I ain’t a cold hearted bitch. I hate you for what you did but I don’t want you to die or anything” you quipped, staring at him straight in the eyes as you said those words. Not allowing him a second to respond, you turned away and began to walk off towards the stairs, starting to feel the exhaustion of the day sink in once again when you placed your foot on the first rung.“You’re all good to go. I’d say go upstairs and get some rest, lord knows that’s what I’ll be doing. If you need anything give me a shout ok?”.

He nodded back at you wordlessly, abruptly turning away afterwards the lean against the couch with his back turned to you, lost back in his own thoughts. You allowed your gaze to linger on him for a moment longer then dragged yourself up the stairs and towards your bedroom, flicking off the hallway lights as you went. In an instant after you heard the click of your bedroom door shut behind you, you allowed yourself to groan out in agony at your entire predicament. So, your ex-boyfriend is on the run and hiding out in your house. This could prove to be interesting...

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #cross my heart #pedro pascal

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lizaloveslevihan · 3 years

Note

if you have some angsty writing energy rn: hc where jean notices that hange hasn’t fully grieved or come to terms with erwin and moblit’ deaths, so he gets over his fear of levi to ask him with how to help hange because he’s so concerned for her

Title: Hange-san

Ao3 Link: Here

Notes: I also got some inspiration from this beautiful art I saw on Twitter.

They weren’t really close by any standards. Thinking about it, they probably just had two or three conversations the entire time Jean had known him. But his utter devotion was enough to catch anyone’s attention. If he wasn’t screaming at her to take care of herself, he did it silently by running each tiny errand and sticking with her like glue. He always walked by her side — shoulders hunched from obvious stress, hair a little unkempt, but hazel eyes as bright as ever, taking in every word she said despite the obvious dark circles underneath them. It was almost as if her personality and lifestyle were being injected into him, giving him life.

Jean hadn’t really understood the nature of their relationship before — couldn’t comprehend the idea of someone so willing to put up with Hange-san’s eccentricities and borderline craziness, day in and day out, especially given their slightly above average wages. It hadn’t seemed romantic at first glance by any means (he would have gotten a different vibe from them if it were the case) but rather, it was fueled and strengthened by a strong sense of loyalty and attentiveness. Those in the Survey Corps had dedicated their hearts to fighting titans and ensuring freedom for humanity, and though vice-captain Moblit Berner essentially did the same, it was as if a large chunk of his heart was dedicated only to Hange-san.

Jean paused, taking that new idea in. He stood outside the newly-appointed commander’s office, the journal he found tucked securely at his side. He had been hesitant to see her, especially after yesterday. She had asked him privately, eyes devoid of any emotion, tone full of anguish, if he could clean and clear out the former vice captain’s room. He understood her pain and had somehow expected this request — they were all grieving, having lost all those people — but he didn’t expect to feel pain over the task given to him.

His room was neat enough when Jean entered it yesterday morning. The bed was made, the shelves free of dust, and each article of clothing folded neatly inside his small closet. The only thing out of place was his desk which had mountains of paperwork that still lay on top of it.

He didn’t know him that well. They weren’t really close. But as Jean shuffled through and organized every piece of paper, every work of art, each sketch of an unfamiliar face, he felt his chest tightening. He vaguely remembered the vice-captain being an excellent artist, but he didn’t realize just how talented he was.

For some reason, he wasn’t surprised to see Hange-san’s face more so than the others. He had drawn her messy hair and wild eyes so perfectly that Jean felt as if he wasn’t worthy to even touch those pieces of paper. Some of them were hastily drawn, some with exquisite detail. He also saw sketches of her with captain Levi, and his eyes widened at one particular portrait where he was drawn gripping his teacup and smiling at her tenderly.

Damn it, Jean thought as he gingerly placed those papers back down on the desk. He would have loved to take lessons from the vice-captain if he only knew just how amazing he was. He had always been passionate about making art and drawing things he saw in his dreams back when he was younger. But of course, he had buried it in the face of reality. Seeing these sketches lit up a fire inside him. A fire that both consisted of his long-lost passion and the grief and sorrow he had tried to conceal ever since they returned from Shiganshina. He had looked around the room and let out a deep breath. No, he couldn’t allow himself to linger too much on those thoughts. He knew if he kept thinking about the warm, artistic vice-captain, he would be plunged into a deep abyss. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop seeing every single face that they lost, especially him. Especially that warm, freckled face full of joy and compassion. That face which had looked at him with so much respect and admiration.

Shaking his head, he forced his mind to turn blank. He started to stack all those papers neatly on top of one another, finally freeing the desk of its mess. However, that was what exactly led him to find the dreaded journal whose contents would continue to haunt him for the rest of the day.

Jean shook his head and looked up, staring at the door to her office. He had been plagued by those thoughts since that task. The commander had ordered him to drop all of his things in her office and so far Jean had made two trips without her being in there. He had a feeling, however, she was behind those doors this time around. He internally debated with himself if he should enter now or wait for her to go to town, seeing as she had a meeting with Zackley later today. However, before he could even decide, the door swung open. Jean jumped up, a little startled, and was met with captain Levi’s usual impassive expression.

“What are you doing here, Jean?” the captain asked, raising an eyebrow. He crossed his arms and lingered at the doorway.

“I, uh,” Jean started, scratching the back of his neck and trying to keep eye contact as much as possible, “I’m here to hand the commander some of—”

“It’s Hange,” the captain cut him off, now closing the door behind him. “I know you’re obligated to call her by that title, and that’s fine for formal occasions, but I want you to keep calling her what you and the other brats call her as much as possible, alright?”

The captain didn’t elaborate any further, which made Jean a little uneasy. He gripped the journal tighter and nodded. He already had a good feeling as to why he would ask such a thing.

“At ease,” the captain spoke quietly, placing a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “You and the brats did well.” Jean looked down and saw… pride? relief? emotions that weren’t normally seen behind the captain's light gray eyes. He allowed himself to briefly recall what had happened on the rooftop. How the captain kept moving forward despite all the pain and loss he endured was unbeknownst to Jean. But then again, that’s what all of them have been doing ever since they joined the Survey Corps, wasn’t it? Is this how his life would always be like? Taking in loss after loss and moving forward from each friend? Forced to kill others with no hesitation? Valuing certain lives and sacrificing others? Clearing out each empty bedroom after every mission? As he was nearing that dark abyss, the captain pulled him out by saying: “Don’t blame yourself with what happened with Reiner, alright? If I only had killed him before he transformed, maybe we wouldn’t have been in this goddamn mess.” the captain recalled briefly, shaking his head and scrunching his eyebrows, “Hange’s inside. Don’t linger too much. She still has a lot of things to do.” and with that, he made his way past Jean and went off across the hallway.

Jean couldn’t help but stare after the captain. He had already come to terms with the fact that it was him who let Reiner get away. That it had all been his fault. But here was the captain, who, the same as Hange-san, took the blame and responsibility for letting the armored and beast titan escape. He felt that it came from more than their positions as superior officers but from their genuine kindness. Their desire to look over everyone. He felt both comforted and pained because of it.

He also couldn't help but think of what the vice-captain had said about captain Levi in his journal...

He shook his head once again. They needed time. He needed time. He already had enough things to deal with because of the damn journal. With a deep sigh, he walked towards the commander’s office and knocked thrice on the door. After he heard a small, muffled “come in,” he pushed it open and was surprised to see her not behind her desk, but standing by the window, looking out at the training grounds across them.

“I’ve brought the last of his things, Hange-san,” Jean said as he closed the door behind him. When she didn’t respond, he shuffled his feet nervously and looked around the office. Bookshelves were covering both sides of the wall, a large desk pressed at the very back, littered with numerous paperwork and books, and the two large windows on either side of which. It felt a little stuffy if he were being completely honest. He had been to Hange-san’s lab before where things were much more chaotic and disorganized, but much more full of life. This place, well, felt like it didn’t belong to her at all.

Which was pretty much a given, considering she had just moved in. The place still embodied the late and great Erwin Smith.

After a few seconds passed, she finally turned around and flashed him a small smile.

It was obviously forced.

“Thank you, Jean,” she spoke, walking up to him and gently taking the journal from his outstretched hands. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she inspected the object. “I… forgot this existed.”

Jean simply nodded, not really knowing what to say. He still felt incredibly awkward.

The commander kept looking at the old, worn-out book as she took a seat behind her desk. She still hadn’t removed the bandages that covered her damaged eye. “This was what he always carried around whenever we did the experiments on those titans. Even if we weren’t doing them, actually. I remember him telling me how his life’s work was here, should he die in the field. How I should inherit it, on the assumption that I’d live longer than him…”

Jean would have had no problem with this conversation if only he didn’t open the book and flipped through the pages himself. Yes, he would be pained, but not as pained if he didn’t read through the long letters that the vice-captain had left in that book. If he hadn’t digested every tiny sketch and word. He had no business in doing so, perhaps he could even get punished should Hange-san find out what he had done, but he couldn’t help the curiosity that sparked within him. Only if he could turn back time. He wished he’d never read those letters. It was just too much.

“He… saved you, didn’t he Hange-san?” Jean muttered respectfully, his body incredibly stiff. She looked up at him, her face just so tired. “When Bertholdt transformed, he pushed you to safety…?”

“I knew it would come to that one day.” the commander said both wistfully and solemnly, “I’ve always been a handful. Careless. Absentminded. Reckless.” she listed off, drumming her fingers on the wooden desk, “I keep getting too close to the mouths of titans. I was more than okay with dying. Especially if it meant I had contributed one way or another to humanity’s freedom. There was this myth I had read before, you know? It was in a storybook meant for children to warn them to never leave the walls.”

At this, she stood up and started walking around the room. “It was a tale of this child who was given wings by his uncle, or was it his father? I couldn’t quite remember. They were trying to escape and leave this tower by flying away. The older man had warned him not to fly too close to the sun, but the boy, being this curious little thing, didn’t listen. Thus, his wings were burned and he fell to his death.” the commander laughed bitterly, her fingers trailing the bookshelves on the left side of the room, “He had always warned me not to fly too close to the sun, Jean. But I still did. Instead of me, it was him who suffered the consequences. It makes me wonder… what if one day, I’ll have this chance again? What if I fly, soaring through the clouds, and my recklessness or heroism or whatever the rest of you would call it, would cause me to fly too close to the sun?”

Jean wanted to leave. He didn’t like the words that were coming out of the commander’s mouth. He wanted to shut himself in his room and maybe sleep this whole thing off. He didn’t want to think about her dying, or anyone for that matter, especially after the loss they were still trying to deal with. That story upset him more than he realized, especially since it didn’t seem too far-fetched at this point, considering all the gruesome deaths he had seen. He knew it was the grief talking and the pressure from her new position, but still, it unnerved him to see someone he always knew was filled with life looking so dead inside.

“You meant a lot to him, Hange-san,” Jean replied, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. You meant a lot to him more than anyone in this world, if he were being completely honest. “We always want to keep the people we care about safe, sometimes even if it means sacrificing our lives. He will always live on, in you — in us. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

Jean didn’t really know what he was saying — the words he uttered felt meaningless in the grand scheme of things — but he knew they were words that needed to be said. After reading those things, well, he felt as if he needed to give her as much assurance as possible.

The commander gave him a tight-lipped smile, her remaining eye tearing up. She approached him, and it was only then Jean finally noticed how she had a slight limp in her step. How her shoulders were tight and slumped forward. She placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded at him. “Thank you, Jean. You don’t know how much that means to me. You’re a great kid and I hope you know that you’ve proven to be an invaluable asset to not only the Survey Corps but to humanity as well. And,” Jean met her eye and his chest tightened once again in seeing it glimmer with a sense of pride, “thank you for cleaning Moblit’s room. I could have done it myself but…”

“I understand, Hange-san,” Jean said, his voice surprisingly reassuring despite the overwhelming amount of emotions he felt. She finally said his name. “I really do.”

The commander smiled a little brighter this time — the most genuine one yet, “Thank you.” and Jean felt that statement didn’t only apply to this situation. “Once we settle everything with Zackley, I’ll let you kids take a much-needed break. You mentioned your mother lives in Trost, is that right?”

“Yes, along with the rest of my family,” Jean replied, the prospect of seeing his mother again warming him up. He still wasn’t able to visit her due to the situation at hand, but he was eager to finally do so. He had always been reluctant in the past due to his embarrassment, but now he understood how superficial those fears were. He was so lucky, luckier than most, that he still had a family to go back to at the end of the day.

The commander nodded before squeezing his shoulder. “Make sure the rest of your squad finishes up their reports, alright? I want them on my desk tomorrow morning.”

“Understood, Hange-san.” Jean nodded in return, offering her a small smile.

She finally stepped away and Jean took this opportunity to carefully walk to the door. However before he could open it, the commander called him once more.

“Don’t blame yourself over anything, alright?” she said, crossing her arms, her voice now laced with a sense of authority, “It was always my decision. It was always my responsibility. I hope you remember that.”

He felt a knife pierce at his heart from her words — the same words the captain had told him no less than twenty minutes ago. He recalled the letters he had read from the vice captain’s journal and Jean couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He wondered briefly if he should get Hange-san to leave for her meeting with Zackley first before opening up the book and reading through everything in it, something Jean was sure she was going to do once he left her alone. But how could he possibly tell her without causing suspicion? How could he possibly tell her that whatever she was about to read could potentially break her? More so than she already was?

He couldn’t, because he shouldn’t have read those things in the first place. He shouldn’t have let his curiosity get the best of him. So instead, he simply nodded and quietly muttered a “thank you” before leaving.

He went down the other hallway to make sure he wouldn’t come across captain Levi. He needed to clear his thoughts before he could face them anytime soon. Jean wondered what his reaction would be if he read those letters as well. He let out a large sigh. Either way, it couldn’t possibly be as bad as Hange-san’s.

*******

The next couple of days had been surprisingly normal enough. They had filed reports, went into countless meetings after the other to discuss the situation regarding what they had found in Shiganshina, all the while still sending letters to each family who had lost a member in the battle. He didn’t see much of the commander other than the times they had to present themselves to Zackley, during which she acted completely fine — delivering each line with that of a smooth and authoritative manner. Other than that, she was gone — either in her office or delivering each letter of condolence personally. When he heard of that, his respect for her had grown even more immensely. She was an unbelievably kind and compassionate leader, and Jean felt even more honored to be working with her.

The promised day-off eventually came. Hange-san could only give everyone three days, seeing as recruits were going to be entering the Corps soon which meant Jean and the rest of his friends had to work on training them. Either way, he was glad to be getting some time to spend with his family. His mother was for sure going to dote on him to no end, but surprisingly, he was looking forward to it.

Already dressed in his civilian attire with his carry-on pack by his shoulder, Jean made his way to the commander’s office once more to inform them of his departure. He had visited Sasha earlier at the hospital and was pleased to know that she would be discharged later today and would be going to her family straight after. He offered to wait for her and drop her off himself, still wary of her injury, but Connie had offered to do it in his place. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin having no place to go opted to go around town for the day, and Floch had already left to visit his own family which basically meant Jean was the only one left in headquarters.

He finally rounded the corner and was about to knock on the old wooden door when he heard a loud crash followed by a screaming match. He immediately stepped back, feeling his blood run cold at the sounds. Only two people could possibly be behind those doors, and he didn’t like that he was hearing any of these things right now. He was lucky that the doors were thick enough to muffle the details of their conversation or their screaming match, but he still picked up on certain sentences.

“He would know exactly what to do next!”

“You’re not supposed to be him! Don’t you understand that?!”

Should I just leave? Make a run for it? Hange-san would surely understand, Jean thought to himself, panic building up in his chest. He recalled that time in his childhood where his parents would fight over food or jobs or whatever adults had fought about. He always felt uncomfortable and disheartened, thinking his parents hated each other and would never get along again. He didn’t like seeing the ugly things that had transpired between them. However, before he could even decide, the door suddenly slammed open, but this time, instead of captain Levi, Hange-san came out, walking briskly and angrily. She didn’t even notice Jean standing there and moved past him, shoulders scrunched together, a frustrated hand running through her already messy hair.

“Oi! Hange!” captain Levi exclaimed, suddenly appearing by the door frame, running a hand through his hair as well. The bags under his eyes were deeper, as usual, his cravat loose around his neck. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but it was obvious it was not in a good way. He was about to kick the door frame when he finally noticed Jean.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

His voice was a little hoarse, and a chill ran down Jean’s spine as he took all of it in. This was too personal, this was none of his business, and so why was he getting roped in again?

“I was just about to report my departure to Hange-san—”

“Well, she’s obviously not here anymore,” the captain cut off in frustration, his eyes narrowing up at him. Jean didn’t like how he was seeing a new side to captain Levi, didn’t like seeing him so frustrated and lost. “Goddamnit what have I done…” he muttered to himself.

Jean could have just told him he was leaving. He could have just nodded and excused himself, headed straight to the stables, and made his way back to Trost. They would eventually forget about this incident as it would cool down, and all would be well.

But Jean remembered the letters. He remembered those words. He remembered her tired, broken expression from days ago. Jean knew what it was like to be a leader — to have people look up to you and count on you. He knew how it felt to think you weren't good enough, to think you weren’t special and how people shouldn’t trust you because you lacked certain skills or that you weren’t perfect enough. He looked at the captain, stared right into those intimidating gray eyes, and felt a surge of confidence within him.

“Captain, you know her better than anyone else,” Jean spoke, reiterating the Moblit Berner’s words, “What can I do to help her?”

The captain was slightly taken aback by Jean’s words. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, studying him carefully. “Why are you—”

“Because I care about her.” Jean said firmly, “And I respect her. And I want to help.”

Captain Levi simply stared at him. Jean would be lying if he said he didn’t feel awkward. They were still soldiers, after all. Captain Levi was still his superior officer, and having heart-to-heart conversations was something they didn’t essentially do. There wasn’t any room for sharing feelings — it opened up vulnerability and that was something you couldn’t have out in the field. Especially since the battlefield they now had was much wider than before.

Jean was prepared to get shrugged off. He was prepared to leave without getting any answers. But the captain had sighed, fixed the cravat around his neck, and spoke softly: “Come inside.”

It was now Jean’s turn to be taken aback. Nevertheless, he followed the captain inside and was even more taken aback by the sight in front of him.

The commander’s desk and seat were turned upside down, forcibly, he presumed, with books and papers scattered around it. He stopped in the middle of the room and heard the captain sigh as he closed the door behind him. “Help me fix this shit, Jean. I can’t have this lying around here.”

Jean didn’t ask any more questions. He already knew the answers as to how this had happened. He wanted to know why, of course, to satisfy his curiosity, but at the same time, he didn’t. He dropped his satchel on the floor and proceeded to pick up the scattered papers and books, making sure not to step on them as much as possible. The captain also did the same, kneeling down and gathering everything in his arms. Once they were finished, they placed everything on the corner of the room, underneath the right window, and started to turn the desk upright once more. Jean took one side, the captain taking the other, and together they lifted and placed it back where it had originally sat. After which, Jean took the chair and pushed it back against it while the captain took the books and paper and placed everything neatly the desk. They worked in silence the entire time — the friction from their fight or whatever had happened in here a few moments ago, still lingered and Jean was afraid to pierce through it.

“I had served under two commanders,” the captain said suddenly as he filed through each piece of paper. Jean looked up and stared at him. “Shadis was alright — you already know most of his story anyway, but he was still a good leader. He had the drive, but still lacked some of the talents. And then Erwin came along…”

Captain Levi let out a deep sigh as he started inserting some of the papers in between the pages of a book. “Erwin... was a special man. He was one of the greatest assets to humanity. I don’t think I really need to tell you any more now, do I?”

He was right. Erwin Smith had been a special man. He was one of the greatest minds Jean had ever seen. He was an incredible strategist, an inspirational and respectable figure — all that and more. He had a feeling, however, that it wasn’t really about that. Jean was sure the captain just didn’t want to talk about him in general, at the moment. And really, who could blame him? Especially after what had happened on the rooftop?

Jean shook his head and looked down. A few tense seconds passed before the captain continued: “He never made any miscalculations. We all had a feeling Hange would be next in line and we had been right. Hange was the only one who had stood up to him, the one to push forward ridiculous and extreme ideas that could have gotten all of us killed. She thought differently and wanted to look at things from a different perspective. Hange…” at this, Jean looked up to see the captain’s expression light up, “was always the best choice. All of us knew this. All of us but her.”

He sighed and started to mindlessly look through some of the books now. “It’s not easy, being in her position. She thinks she doesn’t deserve it. But she does. I’ve been with Hange for a long time now, Jean. I know you brats are there, but we’re the only ones who just… have each other left. She was there when I had first entered the Corps and had been with me ever since. But Erwin and Moblit? They had been with her way before I was ever in the picture.”

It was the first time he had mentioned the vice captain’s name, and Jean had to stop himself from thinking too much about the letters again. One would think he’d get over it at this point, but it was much harder than he thought.

He continued once more: “Anyway, I’ve never been good with this shit, Jean. But you brats are just real nosey, huh?” he said, and Jean couldn’t tell if he was being serious or playful — maybe both. “The truth is, you being concerned and sticking your nose up to where it doesn’t belong is already helpful. You being here, following each command, and being the leader that you are is helpful. Just by staying alive, you’re already helpful. You, well, you’re already fucking helpful if you ask me. Hange knows this, and it may not look like it, but she’s thankful for all the little shit you and the brats do.”

It had taken him a few seconds to fully understand what the captain had meant, but he eventually did. Jean didn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting, but those words flowed through his heart and made him feel good inside. He didn’t realize he was already doing enough. He was just doing the bare minimum, wasn't he? But the captain had a point. If he continued to stay by their side, to stay by Hange-san’s side and follow her wherever she had lent them, then it could help erase the doubts she had regarding her position. Just by staying alive, he was helping her feel better. Just by being there for as long as possible — just like Moblit and Erwin, like captain Levi — was enough.

But he also had a feeling that the captain didn’t want him, or any of his friends, to worry about their situation. He couldn’t explain it, but those were just the sort of parents did for their children. And though Jean would probably never admit it, Hange-san and the captain were quickly stepping up to be parental figures to them already.

The captain finally took out a single piece of paper from the stacks and held it up slightly. Jean saw it had been the sketch of him and Hange-san, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Vice-captain Moblit was really talented, wasn’t he?” Jean finally spoke up. The captain nodded in front of him and traced the outline of Hange-san’s smiling face on paper.

Captain Levi’s lips twitched a little upright. “He really was.”

*******

Though the journey back home was a long and tedious one, Jean was grateful to have had the time to himself to ponder on his thoughts. Captain Levi ordered him, or was it a friendly suggestion? not to speak about this to Hange-san. He then parted to look for her which enabled Jean to finally leave.

He thought a lot about the letters, about the myth Hange-san had told him days ago, about the captain’s words, and even about the late commander Erwin.

The sun was setting when he had arrived home. As he passed through the neighborhood he grew up in, he couldn't help but feel both excited and terrified. The threat of the titans was now over, right? But now they were facing an even bigger menace. Would his home be safe? Would the people they had fought so long to protect inside the walls be safe?

“Jean-boy!”

He turned and saw her face. She stood at the front of their house which surprisingly looked the same after all this time. She was excitedly waving her hand, and once he got closer, he saw that tears were falling from her eyes. Once he stopped in front of her, he quickly dismounted his horse and enveloped him in her arms.

“You’ve grown so big! Oh my boy!” she exclaimed, clutching the back of his shirt and pressing her face against his chest. Jean hugged her back eagerly and tried his best not to let his emotions take over. But it had been a long couple of days. His body still ached from the battle, his brain was consumed by too many thoughts, and his heart still grieved the lives of all of the people they had lost. He couldn’t believe he had taken her warmth and comfort for granted so many times. Who did he think he was, trying to shove her out of his life because he didn’t want to be embarrassed?

“I’m home, mom,” he said, finally closing his eyes and inhaling her scent. She laughed happily before disentangling herself a little, looking up at him to study his face. Her eyes were watery, the lines around them having deepened. Her hair also started to have gray streaks and Jean felt his heart ache at the sight of her much older form. “I have your favorite already waiting for you in the kitchen. I also cleaned your room so you better change and wash up before we eat dinner, alright? I’m so glad you’re here my Jean-boy.” she said, hugging him again.

He truly was home.

*******

A wave of nostalgia hit him the moment he had entered his childhood room. True to her word, everything was neat and tidy. His bed was made, desk free of any clutter, and the window was left a little open to let some of the breezes go in. He exhaled, closing the door behind him and moving to lay on his bed. He was both physically and emotionally exhausted and wanted nothing more now than to close his eyes and sleep. He wondered what the others were doing at this very moment. They had been through together so much that it felt weird not to have any of them near him. It was probably the first time in a long time he was going to sleep in his bed, in his own room, without anyone else around. Letting out a deep sigh, he willed himself to stand up, grab the satchel he had brought with him, and place the contents atop his desk.

As he rummaged through his things, he wondered if there was something he still could do for Hange-san. Though he took the captain’s words to heart, he couldn’t help but feel like doing something for her either way. Something that wasn’t too outrageous that would give her the wrong idea. Something that he himself would do, something that was uniquely his. Afterall, the captain said that just by doing what he did, he would be able to help. He eventually found his answer when he opened one of the drawers of his desk and found his old sketches and art supplies from long ago.

He immediately stopped what he was doing and gingerly took out his old artworks. The passion he felt was still there, tingling the back of his neck as he stared at the portrait of the woman he had seen in his dreams. His lips tightened as he realized that the woman he had drawn resembled Mikasa so much. He really only had eyes for her from the very beginning, huh? Shaking his head, he looked through some of his old work and realized then and there exactly what he needed to do.

He may not be as good as the vice-captain, but it was the least he could do. Besides, maybe once he went through with this little project, he would finally be able to release all his thoughts about this matter. He was relieved to see there was still some paper and pencils left. Nodding his head, he closed the window, placed the papers back down, and proceeded to change into a cleaner and much more comfortable shirt. He’ll have time to do this later after dinner. But for now, there some much-needed time to be spent with his family.

*******

He found himself back in front of the commander’s office once again, days later. This time, he carried with him two scrolls of paper. He stopped and listened intently, making sure no one was arguing behind the doors before knocking.

He let himself in the moment he heard Hange-san’s voice. She was seated behind her desk, finally sporting a dark patch on her injured eye. “Ah, welcome back, Jean. Did you need anything from me?” she asked as Jean closed the door behind him.

“I just came by to drop some things off for you, Hange-san,” he spoke lightly, feeling incredibly nervous. He scratched the back of his head as he approached her quietly.

She looked so much better this time around. She had discarded her military coat and her bolo tie was tied securely around her neck for the world to see. Her glasses were impeccably clean and gleamed when she looked up at him, her hair nicely framing her face. She seemed much more relaxed, and it didn’t feel like when she was going through meetings and such where she acted fine. This time, she actually did look genuinely alright and at peace.

Jean wondered how she and the captain had spent those three days. He had a feeling, once again, that they had spent it together. He could tell that the captain had something to do with the improved state she was currently in. Either way, Jean was happy to see her like this.

“I… had seen vice-captain Moblit’s sketches,” Jean started right off at the bat, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of this than it already was. He saw more than the sketches, of course, but she didn’t need to know that. The commander didn’t look upset or surprised, which made Jean continue: “And I had been sort of an artist too, you see, but obviously not as good as him.”

He carefully handed her the two scrolls of paper, and she raised an eyebrow before taking it from his grasp. “When I returned home and saw my old work, I realized that I wanted to do something for you, Hange-san. No one put me up to this, and I hope, for my sake, you don’t tell the others.”

He added that last part, a light blush dusting his cheeks. If any of his friends found out about his old hobby, they would tease him to no end and demand to see some of his old work.

She carefully inspected the two scrolls before putting down the second one and gingerly opening the first. She gasped, her hand flying straight to her mouth as she looked on and stared at the portrait in front of her.

“Oh Jean…” she said, her voice cracking with emotion, “I can’t believe you did this.”

Jean had a pretty good memory of things. He remembered the vice captain’s worried, concerned face. He remembered the former commander’s authoritative expression. And of course, how could he forget captain Levi’s tiny smirk or Hange-san’s bright eyes?

It felt awkward, putting those visions on paper. He felt his heart clench at the sight of his portraits. But he powered through, and Hange-san’s expression made it all worth it.

She traced her fingers over the etched lines. She lingered, he noticed, over commander Erwin’s and vice-captain Moblit’s face. She smiled and laughed brightly as tears now streamed from her remaining eye. Jean had drawn them all together, side by side, arms around one another. It had been a product of his imagination, but he had to admit it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“Why? How?” she said, her voice breaking. She placed down the paper and gently removed her glasses to wipe some of the tears from her face.

Jean looked down and shuffled his feet, “He never really had any portraits of all of you together. I thought well, that shouldn’t be the case.”

“Do I even want to know what’s in the other one?” she said teasingly before clearing her throat and putting her glasses back on. Her smile was absolutely infectious, and Jean was happy it was seemingly etched permanently onto her face.

“I think you do,” he said, clearing his throat as well. That particular portrait was the first one he had finished, and he loved how it had turned out. He was also grateful for the creative outlet. He had to admit, he missed indulging in these kinds of things. Who knew when the next time he’d be able to do something like this again?

Hange-san laughed — a bright and beautiful melody that continued to light up the room. She shifted her attention to the unopened scroll, picked it up, and proceeded to unroll it. However, unlike the first one, she remained silent, her eyes widening at the sight. A few minutes had passed before she pursed her lips, her fingers shaking a little, before rolling it back up and setting it back down on her desk. She studied Jean carefully, and he could tell that perhaps she was picking up on the idea that he may have read those letters. Nevertheless, she stood up, shook her head, and quickly strolled to him and hugged him.

“Thank you, Jean,” she said after a few seconds, and Jean allowed himself to snake his hands behind her and hug her back. He closed his eyes and a small part of him reprimanded himself for being so soft, for sticking his nose into other people’s business, for doing all of these rather embarrassing things. But life was short. He needed to express his feelings to others before it was too late. He needed to tell people he cared about them before it was too late. He felt the magnitude of her gratitude from those small, common words. From the way she had tightly clutched the back of his shirt. They pulled away — the hug being a rather brief and short thing, just as captain Levi entered the room.

“What are you two doing?” he asked, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms. Jean turned around to see a curious and wary expression on his face. Hange-san laughed behind him, and Jean then and there witnessed how the captain softened at the sound. His shoulders relaxed, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes gleamed in wonder.

“Nothing,” Hange-san sang as she approached him. “Are you ready to go?”

“The horses are already waiting for us,” the captain said gruffly, but Jean could tell he was pleasantly surprised by the commander’s tone and attitude. “What are you and Jean—”

“I’ll tell you later, okay?” she spoke heartily, moving to grab her civilian coat from the coat stand by the door. “We’ll be meeting with some of the press, alright Jean? We’ll be back later tonight. I believe Levi over here is planning on cooking for everyone.”

“Oi! That was supposed to be a secret!” the captain exclaimed, his eyes sneering at her. Hange-san shrugged before approaching Jean and laying a hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him once again which Jean reciprocated. She whispered another “thank you” before patting his head affectionately. “Please don’t tell the others, Hange-san,” he spoke quietly, only for her to hear.

“I won’t.” she assured, “But you have to know that I can’t keep anything from this grump right here,” she said, her head tilting towards the captain’s direction.

“What are you idiots talking about?” the captain eyed suspiciously, moving to approach them.

“I know.” Jean scoffed, his eyes gleaming. Hange-san nodded before swiftly looping her arm around the captain’s and dragging him out the room. “Come on! We’re going to be late!”

Jean followed them out the door and saw their figures moving down the hallway. Captain Levi stopped her suddenly as if asking her once again what she and Jean had been doing. The commander laughed before patting his head affectionately which then made the captain gently kick her leg. He then started to inspect her coat, straightening it out before buttoning the front. Jean shook his head at the soft and sweet gesture in front of him. He looked back inside the office to where the drawings he had and quietly went back in and approached the desk.

He carefully lifted the second scroll and opened it. He didn’t really know what kind of reaction he was expecting from Hange-san, but so far she didn’t really give away anything obvious. He was certain that she had read those letters. But it felt as if she just wanted to move on from them, and thinking about it, that would be the best course of action wasn’t it?

He stared at the portrait. They weren’t really close by any standards. Thinking about it, they probably just had two or three conversations the entire time Jean had known him. But his utter devotion was enough to catch anyone’s attention. Jean hoped he was able to catch them and had translated it properly on paper. There were hundreds of sketches of Hange-san and everyone else, but there weren’t any of just them together. He had drawn him the way he knew him — face scrunched up in concern as he looked onto her. He had a hand placed on her shoulder, and Hange-san was laughing at whoever was in front of her.

Slowly, with his other hand that wasn’t holding the portrait, Jean placed a fist over his heart in a salute.

Thank you for dedicating your heart.

*******

Dear Buntaichou,

I’ve decided to start writing to you like this in the event I should get a heart attack and die from your irresponsibility. I also needed to let out my frustration through a healthy matter. I really don’t understand as to why you would charge headfirst into a forest, all by yourself, and try to capture a titan. How you managed to get away with screaming at the commander and still having all your limbs attached today is a miracle. I’m glad Captain Levi and his squad were able to intervene and help stop you from getting eaten. I’m glad you’re okay. At this time, you’re currently locked in your room, devouring whatever is inside the notebook you found. Maybe you’ll finally be able to convince commander Erwin with your discoveries? Still, you could have died. No matter how much I try to stop you, you always try and go at it, huh?

That was so very stupid of you. How are you so brilliant and stupid at the same time?

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou,

DID YOU REALLY ALMOST FALL OFF THE WALL?! I’m so glad my grandmother forbade me to curse because I would have exclaimed a variety of colorful language at you during that entire situation.

It was our first test run of your titan capturing method, and all would have been well if you weren’t leaning too far and, I don’t know, SLIPPED?

It was a good thing captain Levi had incredible reflexes and had gotten to you just in time. He seems very attuned to whenever you put yourself in danger, isn’t he? I could have sworn he was just waiting for something bad to happen. I also could have sworn I was going to get a heart attack then and there.

Why are you so reckless and stupid? Great, now I feel bad for calling you that. But hey, I need to let it out, okay? Don’t take it personally. But then again, captain Levi pretty much calls you that daily and you seem to find it endearing.

I’m also so worried about when we start experimenting on titans. By the walls, you’re not going to make it easy for me, are you? Just please don’t die.

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou,

I knew you weren’t going to make things easy for me. I have to admit, you giving names to those titans was pretty strange — but it was still rather cute. Only if you weren’t going crazy about it.

I feel like I say that as if it’s a new thing. But then again, back in our training days, you were relatively calm. You always indulge yourself in books and go out of your way to try and learn new things. Those were nice and calm days, weren’t they? You’ve always piqued my interest from the very beginning especially since you were the only one who pronounced our instructor’s name wrong.

Why am I bringing this up? Anyway, if this is the last letter you read it means that I was eaten by Albert or whoever that other titan was. We can’t afford to lose you, you know? That’s one of the things I’ve learned so far anyway. That some lives in the Survey Corps matter more than the others, and I would gladly get eaten by a titan if it means you’d live another day.

I don’t mean to make you feel guilty or anything of the sort. This is just how I feel.

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou,

How do you do it? It seems you’re the only person (besides commander Erwin, well, it’s a given) who has full control over captain Levi. You’ve managed to persuade him to capture a titan for you, and though he complained about it, he still did it anyway.

Since you’ll never get these letters while I’m still alive, I can probably be as honest as possible.

I think that he has feelings for you.

Now, I hope by the time you read this, he’s made it obvious to you by then. And I know it seems like a stretch, cause well, he’s captain Levi and everything and he doesn’t seem like he’s capable of those types of emotions, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you.

I think it started when you ran off to the forest and he followed you. I read the reports of what had happened, and it seemed he was really shaken. We also work a lot with their squad, so there’s a lot of room for things to blossom then I suppose.

I know I sound incredibly foolish. And I’m telling you right now, I’m completely sober as I write this. But it’s just something I can tell, something that doesn’t seem too far-fetched. He cares about you a lot.

Now I need a drink. I don’t know what’s going on with me.

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou,

I think you have feelings for captain Levi.

This is an even more outrageous claim than the one in my previous entry, and because I’m always glued to your side, I feel like I know more than others do.

It’s been a while since I wrote my thoughts on here. It’s been a rough couple of days? Weeks? I forgot. So much has happened. I don’t want to delve too much into the details but essentially, we had engaged with the female titan outside the walls, then inside Stohess district, then the armored and colossal titan. I also finished investigating Ragako — Connie Springer’s village. I haven’t had enough rest these days. A lot of us haven’t. And though I feel incredibly exhausted and want to make use of these couple of days of peace before we head onto Trost, I felt like jotting some of the things I had witnessed between you and the captain.

I know this is really silly of me. But forgive me again, this is the only outlet I have. Don’t worry, I’ve already jotted down the important findings in the middle pages of this journal/sketchbook. But I’m starting to feel things myself. Feelings I didn’t know I could feel either.

Anyway, you had visited him when he was still in the hospital, getting some treatment for his injured leg. You had dismissed me that day, saying you were going to him.

I also had caught you lending him one of your jackets. And though he had protested, he still eagerly wore it.

Not to mention the number of times I had caught you making tea for him. How did I know? Well, no one else touched the tin of black tea in the mess hall but Captain Levi. So it had been an easy assumption.

There are a lot more instances, but I can’t seem to bring myself to put them on paper. I don’t know why — maybe there are just too many, maybe I just don’t want to recall them. I think maybe both.

Either way, it seems as if you two have feelings for one another now. I’m glad. I’m also glad that you’re okay, that you’re alive, that you’re still here. Hopefully, that will continue to last long.

— Moblit

*******

Dear Hange-san,

I think… that this will be my last letter.

I know it’s been a long time since I last updated this series of letters (we haven’t exactly had a lot of free time) and as we are preparing to return to Shiganshina, I felt the need to address everything here and now. Seeing as there’s a high probability I might not make it back.

The moment I first met you back when we were cadets in the Training Corps, you had captured my attention almost immediately. Your hair had been way shorter back then so there wasn’t any need to tie it up into a ponytail. Other than that, your eyes always remained bright, your laugh was always infectious. When you had told me back then how you wanted to see the world beyond the walls, I had thought you to be crazy. My family had always wanted me to enlist in the Garrison, especially since I had a lot of relatives there. But the moment you started talking about what life could be like, about different plants and trees, about different types of animals — the way you had smiled up at me and used your hands excessively to discuss your points — I knew then and there that I would follow you wherever you went.

Going into the Survey Corps was absolutely terrifying. But being with you, helping you, and staying by your side had made it worth it.

The amount of times you almost died, the amount of times you had put yourself in danger is just too much to count. The number of times you had made me worried — well, let’s just say I’m glad my heart didn’t suffer any complications. Or maybe it has and I just don’t know.

Seriously, you’re too reckless sometimes, you know? But I can’t help but admire you still. You do it because you desire to change because you want to understand our natural enemies. You’re the only one I’ve met who thinks that way, and people have mentioned more than once that you’re really crazy, and perhaps they’re right, but you’re also the most brilliant of all of them combined.

And because of this, you have captured my heart.

I’m sure there are more reasons, but I can’t find it in me to talk about all of them. I don’t know why this happened, how this happened, or if I was too obvious. But knowing you, you probably wouldn’t know if someone had romantic feelings for you even if it hit you straight in the face. After all, this is exactly what’s going on between you and captain Levi.

I know for certain now that he loves you. I had a hunch before, but I know now. I could tell by the nicknames he gave you, from how angry he was when you fell during our battle, how he went to visit you, multiple times, after that incident. How when he sees me alone in the corridor or something, he always asks about you. How in every mission we go, he always looks at you, as if he’s engraving your image into his memory should one of you not make it. How he captured a titan for you. How he knows how you take your tea and how he always goes to your side for comfort. How he basically forces you to take a bath. How he just knows you and understands your entirety as a human being.

It all makes sense now. I suppose, if you didn’t pay attention much to it, you’d think it was something else entirely. Just a comrade looking out for another comrade. But his eyes, oh his eyes always say otherwise. He loves you and I hope by the time you read this, you’re well aware of that fact.

And I also hope you’re well aware that you love him too.

I could tell by how you tease him almost to no end. By how you always talk about him, either positively or negatively. How you just know when he's around as if you have a keen sense just for him. How you translate his words for others (he’s not very good at those). How even when he’s fuming angry or irritated, you seem to be the only one who can get him to calm down. How you had visited him multiples times after his injury. How you just knew all that information about him living with Kenny the Ripper as if you two had discussed the life he had led before. How you know exactly how he takes his tea. How you always make it a point to celebrate his birthday despite our lack of funds. How you just know him and trust him so well.

You love him, Hange-san. You love him so much. Dare I say you love him as equally if not more as your titans and your research. What you two have is something so special I doubt anyone inside the walls has the same kind of bond.

I wanted that with you.

You both deserve happiness together. But I know that’s not possible. Especially with the world we live in.

I just wanted you to know this before it’s too late. I want you to know that should I never come back by your side, that you always have him. That he treasures you. Perhaps… even more than I do.

Enclosed in this journal are all the findings in research we collected through the years. And so are these letters. And so are some… portraits I had done myself. I hope you like them.

If you’re reading this, then that means you have survived and may or may not be the new commander. Hange-san, I hope you remember that you are life itself, that you are so brilliant and amazing, and that you continue to give others an inexpressible joy. You have enriched my life (despite almost killing me multiple times). I know you will do a fantastic job as commander. That’s because, well, you’re you. You’re Hange. I wish I could elaborate more but it is what it is.

There’s so much more I want to say. So much more I want to tell you. But there isn’t any time nor can I bring myself to put any of it on paper. You also should be expecting me on the training grounds in a couple of minutes from now to continue Eren’s experiments. So I suppose, I’ll just leave you with this:

… I love you.

Sincerely, Moblit Berner.

59 notes · View notes

prongsies · 4 years

Text

Lights Up • Sirius Black

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader SUMMARY: Sirius finally gets the freedom he deserves as he reunites with an old “friend” WARNINGS: Mild language, a bit sexually suggestive but not that much, shitty writing A/N: I found it a bit hard to write for this song idk why :( Fine Line Master list

"Do you want to stay?” Your voice echoed in the silence of your living room, eyes watching Sirius, trying to memorize every detail about him before you’re all forced into hiding a week later. As friends of Lily and James Potter, whose first and only son is being haunted down by a power-crazed wizard otherwise known as Voldemort, you’re part of the few he considers a hindrance from him “unleashing his full potential” - meaning, he’s got his eyes on killing you too.

Because of this, Dumbledore had asked all of you to go into hiding, and for Lily and James to assign their Secret Keeper. Which led to the dinner you had all shared just moments ago, prepared solely by you, in the small cottage you shared with Remus, skillfully concealed with Charms you had learned and relearned for the sole purpose of this meal.

It started off smoothly, all of you sharing your memories at Hogwarts and teasing James for how love-struck he was over Lily, until you got to the primary matter at hand: deciding who their Secret Keeper was. They were a hundred percent sure they wanted it to be Sirius, and no one questioned it knowing how much he meant to James and vice versa.

But it seemed Sirius didn’t like the idea, pointing his finger towards you or anyone for that matter, just not him. Knowing that as James’ best friend, they will come for him first. But everyone else insisted, Remus backing up the Potters’ statements which resulted in a verbal argument between him and Sirius, Remus eventually leaving to “go get some air”.

The rest of the meal continued in silence though, tensed after that little spat that ensued between your two friends. When it (finally) concluded, you walked your friends out your flat, James and Lily lingering longer to exchange sentiments and expressions of love before you cut off communication indefinitely. Then, with a kiss on Harry’s forehead - and a knowing look from James who gestured towards Sirius - they left, disappearing into the night.

“Sirius,” You tried once again, eyes studying the boy who wouldn’t so much as spare you a glance, “Do you want to stay?”

“I could,” He seemed to consider it for a moment, before his face morphed into a sour expression, “but I wouldn’t”

“What do you mean?” You approached him, taking careful steps towards him trying to avoid any kind of negative reaction, “Is it Remus? You know he won’t mind. He- he just needs some time to think, you know? But he’ll understand when you talk it out-”

“It’s not that, (y/n)!” Sirius exclaimed in obvious frustration, running his fingers through his hair, “It’s just.. I don’t think we should keep doing this anymore”

“What, being friends?” You asked humorlessly, bitterness seeping down your throat.

“Friends don’t fuck around while ignoring their feelings for each other, (y/n)! you know that!” He practically growled at you, eyes softening at your scared expression, yet the rest of his face remained cold, “and I can’t face Remus, especially after practically shoving his illness to his face”

“You just need to talk it out” You reasoned with him, trying to hide the hurt you felt when he backed away from you, “We’re all each other has, Sirius, especially now with James, Lily, and Harry in danger! We can’t- we can’t turn against each other now”

“I’m sorry, (y/n)”

With that, he rushed out the door, leaving you behind with words paragraphs left unsaid.

A month later, you and Remus find out about James and Lily’s deaths, then a day after that, the murder of Peter and 12 other muggles at the hands of the person you used to call you friend.

A shiver ran down Sirius’ spine at the sudden cold breeze that brushed his shoulders. Shutting his book and placing it atop the coffee table, he stood to get the fireplace ready, igniting his with his wand, before settling back on the armchair he had occupied.

Sighing at the warmth, he allowed his eyes to trail over the interior of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, where he had been residing in hiding after his escape from Azkaban five years ago. The war had finished, concluding in the so-called Battle of Hogwarts where he fought alongside his best friend, Remus, and godson, Harry. It ended victoriously, Voldemort finally descending into the pits of hell where he belongs.

With his contribution to the war and the countless proof pointing towards his innocence, the Ministry decided to open his case after almost two decades, allowing him the opportunity to walk the earth as a free man once and for all. The thought brought a smile onto Sirius’ lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by his godson who was descending the stairs from his room in the second floor.

“You nervous?” Harry asked as he neared, propping himself onto the armchair across Sirius with an envelope in hand.

“Very” Sirius nodded with a grin, “Although, I’m more excited than nervous”

“That’s alright” Harry shrugged as he pulled out the documents, spreading the papers onto the coffee table so he could sort through them, “Besides, the woman who had taken over your case is supposedly the best one out there. In fact, she was the one who insisted to handle it, apparently she’s been sending appeals to the Wizengamot the moment you’ve been locked up”

“I didn’t know it’d be a woman, do I know her?”

"Too well, I believe” Harry replied simply, looking up at Sirius with a smirk playing in the corner of his lips as he busied himself. As if on cue a knock sounded from the front door, followed by Remus’ footsteps as he rushed from the kitchen to the entrance hall.

“Remus!” A woman’s voice echoed through the quiet home, followed by the sound of shuffling and the gentle shut of the door. “Is Teddy with you?”

“‘fraid not. He’s with his mum and grandma for a few days, with the full moon last night”

Sirius’ eyes furrowed as he eavesdropped on the conversation. Who could this woman be for Remus to mention his lycanthropy so nonchalantly?

His question was answered as she stepped into the room, body going rigid at the sight of Sirius on the sofa. The latter was unaware he had rose to his feet as he saw her as well, his breath caught in his throat as he took the sight of her in. (y/n), the same girl he had loved for years, whose thoughts plagued his mind with regret the day he left her standing in her own living room after she reached out to him.

(y/n), whose skin he used to caress almost every night as they lay in bed after hours of intimacy and passion, whose lips he swears he could still taste up until this day. (y/n), the name he’d moan in her ear or against her neck, as pleasure overtook his body, he knows he could never be silent around her. (y/n) whose years of stress had aged her features significantly yet, much to Sirius’ jealously, remained youthful and beautiful after all this years.

“(y/n)” He found himself breathing out, his cheeks heating up at the small crack in his voice - a failed attempt of keeping his emotions at bay.

“Sirius” She seemed breath-taken as well. But she was quick to compose himself, hiding the admiration from her features and replacing it with something Sirius assumed to be her professional face. She cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly, before reaching a hand out towards him, “It’s great to see you again. I hope you don’t mind me coming at such a short notice, I just really need to prep you for your trial tomorrow”

“Drop the formalities, (y/n)! We all know your heart still beats for Sirius!” Remus commented from behind her, watching the scene in amusement. He reached over to share a high-five with Harry, who immediately settled after a playful glare sent towards him by Sirius

“Shut it, Moony” (y/n) rolled her eyes.

Hesitantly, Sirius took her hand in his, biting back his smile as his cheeks managed to heat up even more. It all ended far too quickly though, since just after she pulled her hand away, she ushered everyone into the dining room, ordering Remus to shut the door behind him as she charmed the small area to mimic a courtroom - which looked far too realistic that the sight of it brought chills to Harry as he recalled the way he felt in his own trial years ago.

(y/n) motioned towards a chair in the middle of the now-circular room, waiting for Sirius to take his seat. “Now, I managed to collect some of the many questions to be directed your way. Don’t worry though, we’ve also collected some memories to put into the pensieve to back up your statement”

“The pensieve?” Harry asked. He didn’t know they were allowed to do that.

“It’s a special privilege” (y/n) answered his unvoiced question, not tearing her eyes away from the mountains of paperwork she was pulling out from her bag, scanning each one as she placed them gently onto the table, “Help me with this, Moony, will you?”

Remus was quick to her side, helping her look through the documents. It was funny seeing them now, as Sirius had always thought they’d end up together eventually, which had been one of the reasons why Sirius refused to stay when she asked him to - he thought they had feelings for each other, (y/n) just taking it out on Sirius, but he was very wrong.

“Here we go!” She exclaimed triumphantly, grabbing a stack of paper from the pile, circling the table to stand in front of him, “Are you ready, Sirius?”

“Let’s have at it”

___

“This is undeniably one of the worst days of my life” Sirius grunted as he collapsed onto the dining room chair in exhaustion, dropping his forehead rather harshly onto the table in front of him.

The room had been reverted to its original state when they had concluded the prepping session, something Sirius didn’t enjoy even just one bit.

“Remus, I was overcame by my emotions back then” Sirius deadpanned, earning a grin from Remus. It’s nice they could talk about the past so lightly now, no matter how dark it had been, “My vision literally went dark when I went after Peter. As soon as I calmed, I was already sitting in my cell in Azkaban”

“It wasn’t that bad” Remus tried to make light of the situation, yet upon recalling how it actually went, a cringe made its way onto his face. He could still hear Sirius' loud voice echoing the room just hours ago, trying to defend himself from the accusations thrown by (y/n).

He had thrown harsh words towards her, settling down whenever she would correct his wordings or point out the slight raise in his tone which the council wouldn't like. Sirius tried to keep up with all her suggestions, but doing so would mean he would need to keep his frustrations to himself - which was rather difficult since he had done just that when he was locked up.

He settled mugs of coffee in front of Sirius and (y/n). They had only taken a short few minutes for dinner before continuing their session again, and Sirius didn’t think it’d be that difficult to recall what happened in an event that occurred long ago. By the time they finished, it was near midnight.

“We can request to submit a memory to the council though” (y/n)’s voice was rough as she spoke, an effect of her consistent interrogation towards Sirius, teaching him how to respond in a way that would work in his favor. “Besides, we need you as calm as we can. Merlin knows you can be dramatic sometimes”

“Dramatic!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offense, “Love, you of all people should now how false your accusation is”

“Pads, you literally first appeared to me as a large black dog in the middle of the night” Harry reminded from beside (y/n). Sirius could see the familiarity in (y/n)’s eyes upon hearing Harry call Sirius by his Marauder name, knowing deep down she heard James’ voice as well.

“Imagine being a thirteen year old finding out your godfather was “on the way to kill you” while seeing a literal death omen all the time. I was literally so afraid I thought I might shit my pants” Harry continued, earning a laugh from Remus.

“And what is it you told me when I transformed that night?” Remus quipped humorously, “You know the man you truly are, Remus!”

“Sod off, Lupin! Bloody hell” but Sirius couldn’t help the smile forming on his face as his eyes found (y/n), watching the way her eyes crinkled at the sides in laughter. Remus noticed this, sharing a look with Harry before nodding him out the room, disappearing up the stairs in hushed whispers.

When (y/n) calmed, she was left alone with Sirius, nursing her mug of coffee in her palms, the way she used to do when her hands started feeling cold. Sirius didn’t want the awkward silence to take over, so he initiated a conversation, “So... how’ve you been over the years?”

(y/n) gave him a look, and Sirius could just hear her teenage self utter a sarcastic ‘really?’, but she answered anyway, “It was rather peachy. I mean, losing James, Lily, and you in two days? It was really hard”

“I’m surprised you and Remus didn’t end up together. I was assuming that after living together for all those years, you’d develop something” Sirius jumped right into it, regretting the years he had spent not even trying to ask.

“Really?” And there it was, the face. She sighed, standing up from her seat to claim the chair beside Sirius, smiling up at him, “We were only friends then, Siri. We both couldn’t afford a place of our own so we figured we could live together. I mean, if you weren’t staying with Lily and James then, I would’ve offered you to live with me”

“Did you see someone else while I was gone?”

“You’re actually being so blunt right now” (y/n) laughed. “If you had been this straight-forward then we would’ve been together by now. But yes, I had been in many relationships. Remus and I even tried going out once - too awkward so we reverted back to being friends. There was also this one guy who actually proposed to me 6 months into the relationship, but I declined”

“Why? You could’ve had a family by now”

“Let’s just say I was waiting for the Ministry to finally accept my petition to reopen your case. It’s the main reason why I joined the Wizengamot council really, so I can set you free” She said softly, “I’ve always known you wouldn’t betray your friends like that, especially James”

“Yeah” Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off (y/n)’s lips as she spoke, swallowing audibly at the thought of how easy it is to connect their lips in the small distance between them. “Can I kiss you?”

“I could say yes, but I wouldn’t” She replied cheekily, reminisce of one of the few words Sirius had told her before he left.

“I’m sorry, by the way... I was young then - scared of the war, of being given that much responsibility which I ended up chickening out of. I- I didn’t know who I was then”

“Do you know who you are now?”

“No, but I’m certain I am hopelessly in love with you - have been all these years” His face neared hers, lips mere centimetres away, “And I know I’ll go mad if I don’t get to feel your lips again”

“I can’t” She pulled back, surprising Sirius. She was staring at his lips though, while biting her own, an indication of how much she wanted to do it, “I want to but I can’t. As of now, you’re still a client”

“Oh”

“But if you do a good job tomorrow, maybe I can reward you with one? and maybe something more?”

The grin on both their faces confirmed an agreement, and although Sirius’ nerves had settled once again in his stomach, at least he had something to look forward to.

___

“Are you ready, darling?” (y/n) asked as she stood beside Sirius near the front door of 12 Grimmauld place, her hand on the knob ready to turn it at any second. Harry and Remus had gone ahead of them, bringing Sirius’ belongings to (y/n)’s home somewhere in London, and mainly to give the two some privacy.

“Ready as ever, love” Sirius grinned.

With a grin, she swung open the front door, allowing the sunlight to enter the house while the cold afternoon breeze nipped at their skin.

Finally, after twelve years in Azkaban, and five years hiding in the Hellhole House of Black, he was finally able to take his first steps outside as a free man. Pulling (y/n) towards him in a tight embrace as they stood on the porch, he couldn’t help but let a few tears escaped.

He had thought this moment would remain a dream, something so impossible to happen that he hated himself for even considering it. But here he was, not needing to transform into a dog just so he could roam the streets.

He’s a free man now.

With a grin he turned back towards his old home, glaring at it as he raised both his hands, flashing the front door with his middle fingers, before shouting, “Fuck you, Number 12 Grimmauld Place! Fuck you, Azkaban! I’M NOT EVER GOING BACK!”

Fine Line Tag List:

@cedricisnotonfire @rexorangecouny @susceptible-but-siriusexual @annasofiaearlobe

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagines #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #remus lupin #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders x reader

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Wicked

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Enemies to Lovers!

Warnings: Large age gap.

Summary: Alfie and Y/N learn to keep face in between their loved ones but the truth soon threatens to come out. Unavoidable consequences are quick to follow.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“At least put your guards down for me.”

“You know our love would be tragic.”

The sound of barrels rolling on the ground is all that can be heard while someone toys with the paper in front of them. There’s silence but it’s not the comfortable kind, it’s the kind that makes small beads of sweat form on Ollie’s forehead while he waits for someone to speak from the other end of the room.

Alfie stares straight ahead.

Your brother is nonchalant about the situation that’s going on, thankfully. He looks at the paper in front of him and reads it, over and over again before sliding it back to its owner on the desk. Your eyes never meet his.

It’s the meeting you dreaded. You and your brother had been called to Alfie’s office to renew the contract your father had made, it was inevitable and even though you’d spent last night on Alfie’s bed while he found ways to make the meeting go as smoothly as it was humanly possible, you find yourself to be nervous.

Jack, your older brother by a couple years, is not fond of Alfie even though he’s grown up in front of him like you did. They used to get along, you think, until Jack realised that he wanted much more than what he had and ruined anything good in his life after everyone you and him were related ended up under the very soil you walked on.

It’s a tragic story, really but not a story one would be able to make out after taking a look at you. You both look like posh high class citizens, which you are but there’s more to the person you are than what you look or act like. Alfie knows that well.

It had been going well.

You’d managed to hide the fact that you’d been waking up with the very enemy before you for the past four months, there was not one track you left that would enable them to trace things back to the two of you. It was also rather surprising, just how long it had lasted for the both of you.

And you’d fallen, slowly.

It was your fault for thinking so much about him. You knew it was inevitable, you falling for him, that morning where he had cooked you breakfast, you knew that you’d fall for the bear of a man if you didn’t end it right there and then but you didn’t have the heart to do such damage, not to him.

Anyone who knew you well would just laugh at your face if they’d heard just how gentle and kind you were with him. You were usually the one to be cruel, to dismiss any feeling and get on with business but you’d gotten carried away with him, your heart was taking the lead on something in your life for once.

Your guards were still up but they were much weaker when Alfie casted a look on you. They didn’t have the stability and power they once possessed as he worked through every little puzzle you presented to him with yourself. He was much more patient than you’d thought he’d be.

“It looks alright to me..” your brother spoke as Alfie eyed him, he’d never been fond of the young lad since he was much more careless than he should’ve been.

Your brother turned to you and you nodded before speaking. You wouldn’t tell him that you had revised the terms more than twice with Alfie before and that was why they were clean cut and done well according to your brother’s needs. You saw the surprise in Jack’s face due to how understanding Alfie was being and silently thanked him with your eyes before speaking.

“Yes, I don’t see why we need to delay the signing of the contract any further.” the words were breathier than they should’ve been but Jack was too daft to catch on anything unlike Alfie who found himself to grow hotter at the sight of you.

In the last months, he’d seen you in many scenarios but this was the most professional and uptight he’d seen you be in a while due to your brother’s presence. He’d seen you moan his name while your nails dug into his skin, sometimes you’d smile at him in your bare glory in the mornings. He recalled the times you’d play around with Cyril while waiting for the food to cook but you were far from any of those women now.

You are the enemy.

It’s impossible to miss the lines of hate and spite Jack feels towards the man in his eyes. You don’t blame him for not liking Alfie since the family and business history always complicates things. He’d never been the sharp one in the family either so you see the reasoning, although you don’t agree.

Alfie sees your attachment to your brother, him being the only alive one out of your family despite how useless he usually is. He’s not built for this business, everyone knows that but your dead family possesses way too much power for anyone to speak ill of you or your brother.

But not Alfie.

You know the rumours about him to be lies, mostly because you’ve gotten to experience his kindness in the last months and also because he’d never been that way to you. Ever since you’d known the man as a teenager girl, he’d been the only sane person around including your family in this shit hole.

You and your brother soon sign the deal and shake hands. You don’t miss the glisten in Alfie’s eyes when his hand touches yours and you thank heavens that Jack is entirely too daft to miss it. Alfie’s hand caresses your waist and your eyes widen but he lets go after a squeeze and you realise that Jack has already made his way downstairs.

“Nice job being subtle.” you speak but he senses the sarcasm. He doesn’t lean into kiss you or caress your arms like he usually does when you’re both alone. You see the glint of amusement in his eyes and he speaks.

“Jack’s one daft fuckin’ lad, yeah..” he chuckles while his voice fills the oak walls. You nod at his words but the silence is soon to follow.

“Yeah, he’s not the one for details.” you speak and your voice echoes in his mind for a while for the sole reason of missing you.

“Luv, I-” he speaks but you’re fast to cut him off, there’s a million dollar smile on your lips as he looks at you, clearly taken back but he knows you know what he’s about to say.

“I need to leave, Jack might get suspicious soon.” you say and your words are like glass, cutting through his inked skin as he nods. He knows Jack probably things you’re discussing something about business.

You know what he’s going to say, he’d said it last night in a mere whisper when he thought you were sleeping. You’d pretended not to hear it but the words had been haunting you ever since.

There’s no goodbye this time when you leave through the front door.

-----

Things tend to take a left turn when you think they’re going in the right direction. The room is filled with the kind of energy you remember would fill the walls when your father would scream at you. Cyril is hiding somewhere upstairs to get away from the shouting and the cries that leave your mouth each time you try to explain something to Alfie.

It was one of your worst traits, had always been. You’d cry when you weren’t able to express yourself clearly. Anger and frustration would peek through your eyes and the rest was a fountain of little glass pearls.

“We can’t keep-” your voice is soft and shaky and this time, he’s the one that raises his voice at you.

“Ya’ were the one, yeah, fuckin’ givin’ me the idea in the first place.” he says, his voice booms through the corridors of the large house, you feel smaller than you already are from the one end the of the room as he stands in the other.

You know he won’t hit you but the fire in his eyes is not the kind you’re used to seeing.

“I know that. I just think I’m getting-” you try to speak but he cuts you off. It’s only his voice and eyes that make you feel a tiny bit of fear. The rest of him is calm, he doesn’t seem angry or sad, he’s just confused as to why the conversation is taking place right when he was about to confess his love to you.

That’s what he’d whispered against your skin last night when he thought you were sleeping.

“Wha’ the fuck are you gettin’ love?” he asks, voice in the usual tone as he tugs at his beard.

You could say many things: you were getting tired of him, of his affection. Maybe, he thought, you were getting bored.

“Attached.” you speak, your voice is low but he hears it and feels his heart stiffen. It’s his fault for thinking that things would go well.

He then stills for a while like the ocean at sunrise. He’s calm s he stares right into your eyes, he knows now for a fact that you’re starting to have feelings. He sees the fronts you’re still able to put up, your guards are not down despite tears rolling down your cheeks.

It’s too late, he thinks. It’s too late for you to get out of this mess both of you managed to create.

“At least put your guards down for me.” he speaks, no swear words or a harsh tone this time as his voice fills your ear. The voice you were once so desperate to hear. You still are but you can’t help but feel helpless.

This is the first time in a while you’ve felt this helpless.

You try to explain yourself to yourself first, tears covering your face while you start to pace around the room. He sees you close down further and go down a hole that would be highly damaging but he watches for a second, he watches the face you show no one else but the mirror.

Your small whispers and sobs fill the room this time as Cyril comes out of one of the rooms, the animal can see the tension is no longer there but it’s something much worse.

It’s heartbreak, the one thing Alfie has so desperately tried to save you from.

“I-” you start speaking but the words escape you. Alfie’s quick on his feet as he reaches for your small form in the other side of the room. He wraps his arms around you and you feel yourself get engulfed by his embrace.

He smells of vanilla and rum.

You’re lost in time at that second as his embrace is all you can feel, it’s all you want to feel. As you slowly calm down, your hands hug him back. His soothing whispers fill your ear and he’s soon to realise that you’re trying to deal with much more outside of this situation you have with him and this argument is the last drop.

You let him take control when he sits down on the large sofa you made him buy for his living room. He pulls you into his lap and gives you another engulfing hug. It makes your heart ache, that there had been no one before Alfie to care about you, let alone care about you the way Alfie did.

His lips meet your temple and hair every now and then, he plants gentle kisses and feels your breath calm down with every soothing whisper that leaves his mouth. You soon collect yourself, the shock of being seen by someone finds your little heart and sends a wave of fear through it.

To be truly seen by someone.

You lift yourself up from his lap but his hands catch you by your forearms. You stand up right in front of his seated figure. Even though he’s sitting, you can’t help but realise just how big he is compared to you, you dismiss the thought of him on bed like you’d seen him yesterday with a shake of your head and start speaking.

Your voice is not a whisper anymore. It’s the you he knows.

“I better leave.” you speak but he doesn’t understand. He knows you need to be taken care of, in every which way and he’s willing to do that.

But he also remembers the rule.

It’s the one thing you’d asked from him and from yourself, the game was played with two souls and you were also to blame. You’d blamed him for some time, for getting so carried away with everything but you were quick to follow his drunk in love steps.

You knew you were falling in love because it was something out of a dream for you. It was intense and painful, you dreaded the times you’d see the real truth behind his eyes, that he loved you back because then it would just be a tragedy. Your heart was okay being the one in love, you could work it out on your own but his silent pleas telling you to stay told you just what you needed to know.

That he was just as mesmerised by you.

“Alfie, listen-” your words cut through his whispers, telling you to stay but he stands up right in front of you and towers above you soon after the words leave your lips.

“No, luv, you fuckin’ listen.” he says right into the room, you can hear him loud and clear while he stands just centimetres away from you, holding you by your arms.

“This, yeah, ain’t somethin’ you can just throw in the fuckin’ garbage.” he says, the voice that used to feel like pure sin now just feels like glass cutting through your skin.

He’s right. You know he is.

This the thing your mother had warned you about before she disappeared into nothing. You know she’s in hell somewhere for the things she’d done, looking up at you and cursing for just how silly you’re being, giving your heart to this man.

“We said-” you speak, trying to reason with him and you try to lift your arms but his gentle grasp prevents you and he looks right into your eyes as he speaks.

He needs you to know.

“I know what we fuckin’ said, right, I was right there, luv and I remember it clearly.” he speaks, there’s a billion emotions swimming in his blue orbs while the afternoon sun hits him in a way that makes you think he’s out of this world. He feels like it.

“Too clear for my own fuckin’ good, yeah.” he says and lets go of your arms. You can see the conflict on his face, morphing with worry every now and then.

You don’t speak for a while but watch him fight with himself, the mighty Solomons is having a mental conflict right before your eyes. There’s not much to be said, you know that. It was the one rule in a very dangerous game you proposed and you both dismissed it, now you’re deep in a hole that can either be lethal or beautiful.

You speak your mind since nothing else makes sense as he stares right at you. Your voice is shaking again. “You know our love would be tragic.”

A few tears find the corners of your eyes, you don’t let go of them because he’s watching. You want him to think you’re stronger than you are but he already knows that you’re stronger than he’ll ever fucking be. You sigh and look at the walls after the words, a thousand sobs align at your throat but you’re not letting them go.

“Ya’ didn’t think I thought of that?” he speaks, walking towards you until he’s towering above you like he usually is and you look up at his saddened face.

“We were supposed to be hating each other.” you say while staring right at his chest since it’s at your eye-level.

He is the enemy.

He’s the person you were designed to hate. Your father had made you into a business machine that functioned well but he had forgotten one thing, that you thrived on danger. Alfie was exactly what he had told you to steer clear from and now, you knew why.

It doesn’t matter that your heart soars at the thought of the man before you nor does it make sense. You know nothing is enough to create an exception when it comes to enemies, it won’t count that you’re in love or that you crave him and him only.

It doesn’t matter that he makes you happy and that he makes you laugh. It doesn’t matter that Cyril already thinks of you as his mom and Alfie’s house is decorated with the things you bought him. It doesn’t matter that no morning is good if he’s not next to you.

Because he’ll always be the enemy.

“You’re th-” you speak but he mimics the way you cut him off and holds your chin up so your eyes meet his.

“The enemy. I know, luv.” he says and you feel his hot breath against your face.

You shake your head at his words, teary eyes meet his merciful ones and you feel your guard come down, little by little. You want to curse at your damn self for being weak at the sight of him, for bowing down at every little action of kindness this man has shown you.

“We don’t get to fall in love.” you shake your head at your own words as Alfie listens. He always listens. “You and I, this isn’t how things are supposed to be.” you speak once again, eyes closed as you try to make sense of things.

Before Alfie had jumped on a chance to be with you with no strings attached to the either of you, you’d done the proper calculation of outcomes the situation would bestow upon you.

There would be heartbreak and grief in most situations. You saw versions of you not getting attached to him, this would just sail smooth and when the deed was done, you and him would go your separate ways. There were other situations. You’d leave him for being a dick or he’d leave you for being a bitch.

But he had done none of the things you knew men to be capable of doing.

He hadn’t shouted, the only time he’d touched you was with gentle hands of a simple caress. He’s kissed you hello and goodbye and bought you flowers and baked goods. He’d showered you with affection and compliments and he’d let you in.

It didn’t matter how fucked up things were, he’d still let you in.

“Tell me how this is gonna work, right, and I’ll follow every fuckin’ rule.” he speaks against your face as you find yourself to be puzzled about the whole situation, the confusion is evident in your eyes.

“That hasn’t worked well before.” you speak and he chuckles feeling victory at the fact that you’re now looking more amused than sad. You watch the lines of worry transform into something else, something much more cheerful as his blue orbs stare at you.

You want it to consume you.

The nights filled with meaningless talk, the waking up together. You want to get lost in his touch and never let go. You want to wake up next to him and spend the day in bed. You know you’ll miss him, you’ll miss all of it.

The small touches and how he whispers your name into the night. You’ll miss the way he looks at you when he knows you’re in public and the way he manages to make your heart do multiple flips.

You know you can’t let go, not just yet.

So you curse yourself and all the mistakes you had done seem like a little one as you try to conjure up the courage to ask him one thing. It’s a mistake, you know that. You already know the man is in love and so are you even though he’s the one person you were supposed to steer clear form.

You’re to blame for the things that follow.

“Why don’t you stay the night..” a small pause follows “....so we can figure this out?”

----

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @bicevans @mollybegger-blog @97freaknik. @fuseburner @kiaoizz

a/n: I think there will be another chapter? Let me know if you guys want another one and also what you thought of this one?

Stay safe and Happy Eid!❤︎

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[Analysis] S2 Gavin and MC

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for Season 2 content, which has not been released in English servers!🍒

I’ve received some worried Asks regarding the relationship between S2 Gavin and MC, so I’m here to try to alleviate your concerns 💙

Knowledge of S2 Gavin content is highly recommended before looking under the cut: Prologue // Throbbing Date // Main storyline // R&S // Stray Date // The Guardian Plan

Note: This post contains my own analysis AND an analysis from a Weibo user (who has given me permission to translate it). I have marked out which part belongs to her :) These are just our personal thoughts, so you’re free to agree or disagree! I’d love to hear about what you think about their relationship, whether via PM, a comment or an Anon Ask <3

What do we know about S2 Gavin?

1. He’s selfless

In [Prologue], Gavin is in terrible shape - he’s in agonising pain and is so weak that even opening his eyes is a struggle. Yet, when the red light on the bed starts blinking and he knows MC could get into trouble, he summons his strength to tell her to leave, in a voice louder than when he asked her to stay :’)

He also manages to cover the back of MC’s hand to assure her that he’d be fine. Remember - this is the first time Gavin is meeting MC. He’s mustering all the strength in his frail, tiny body to comfort a complete stranger.

In [Throbbing Date], Gavin does things without expecting expressions of gratitude. For instance, he gives MC his jacket in the rain and runs off even though there’s a chance he’d never get it back. He also leaves strawberry milk for her on the piano bench without a note mentioning who it’s from.

2. He’s righteous

In [Throbbing Date], Gavin engages in a 1 v 10 fight to save Minor from ruffians, even though they aren’t close. And it’s hinted that Gavin has saved him multiple times.

In [Main storyline], Gavin makes things difficult for MC by trying to catch her in a lie, but stops once she tells him the truth about what she’s doing in STF:

He doesn’t speak, but quietly gives me one last chance. Faced with such a Gavin, my heart sighs silently.

MC: I’m here because of a matter involving an Evolver artiste working under me

.…perhaps it’s my misperception, but his expression is no longer as cold as it was before.

Something similar happens in [Stray Date], where Gavin tries to drive MC to a corner by sending her hovering above the ocean with his Evol. MC even trembles for a while. However, she soon realises that Gavin is controlling the air currents around her very well to ensure she wouldn't fall.

While S2 Gavin may seem merciless and cold (e.g. he’s described as a sharp sword multiple times in [The Guardian Plan], his actions both stem from, and are capped by a strong sense of righteousness.

3. He has a soft spot for MC

It’s clear in [Throbbing Date] that teenager Gavin has a soft spot for MC, so I won’t dive into that.

In the [Stray Date] phone call, Gavin’s concern for MC’s well-being is obvious, and reminiscent of a very early S1 Gavin:

Gavin: …I heard them saying that a girl stood in front of everyone back then. It was you, wasn’t it.

MC: Uhm, I… was afraid they’d get hurt.

Gavin: This isn’t a reason to shoulder more risks.

MC: Actually, I did it without realising…

Gavin: …I won’t always arrive in time. If I’m not around next time, don’t use such methods.

A similar idea is brought up in the [Main storyline] call:

Gavin: …no need. As of now, our leads aren’t comprehensive, so we can’t confirm who is the person behind these transactions. Your company’s security measures are inadequate. It’s best to improve them.

MC: All right…got it.

In the [Throbbing Date] call, Gavin basically invites MC to return to Loveland High together at the request of Mr Keller, and she accepts. This wouldn’t happen if they were antagonistic towards each other.

Interestingly, them being on opposite sides seems to become an inside joke for them.

Example 1 - [Reunited Yesterday R&S]:

MC: I think given our positions, it isn’t appropriate to eat at the same table. Don’t you think so?

Gavin lifts his hand and casually taps the side of the bowl in front of him.

He arches his brows and looks at me, the temperature of sunlight in his pupils.

Gavin: As someone who always orders my favourite noodles, your words aren’t persuasive.

Example 2 - [The Guardian Plan]:

MC: I think I know what this documentary should express to the audience. Even with sword-like authority, the STF will always have justice as its supreme guide.

A sudden night breeze courses past, lingering around my wrist.

Gavin looks at me, his eyes deep.

But the corners of his lips suddenly curl upwards.

Gavin: Given your position, you shouldn’t be talking to me about justice.

I smile as well, extending a hand towards him.

MC: Gavin, it has been a pleasant collaboration.

On a professional front, Gavin and MC are on different sides.

Personally speaking, however, they aren’t antagonistic towards each other. While MC is intimidated by Gavin in [Main Storyline], she warms up to him fairly quickly. Gavin also warms up to her, albeit a little slower.

In [Stray Date], Mr Solitary Wolf™ flat out rejects MC’s offer to work together. However, in [The Guardian Plan], he trusts MC and agrees to go along with her plan without even needing to hear it.

Finally, I’ll let this scene from [The Guardian Plan] speak for itself:

Holding onto the letter, I turn around and enter the house. Gavin has his arms crossed over his chest, standing in front of a map of Loveland City, pursing his lips.

A young officer pulls me to a corner and speaks softly.

Young officer: The suspect isn’t here, but we found tools to create explosives. The situation has become more serious. No one dares to disturb Captain Gavin when he’s thinking about cases, so just ask me if you have any questions.

Without saying anything, I walk towards Gavin.

Gavin frowns and turns his head, the light flashing in his eyes akin to a cold, sharp blade.

When he sees that it’s me, his frown relaxes, and he speaks lightly.

[Translated Analysis from 今天鱼子酱也不愿产粮 on Weibo]

Gavin is unexpectedly cold to MC in his first S2 Moment, and it’s easy for players to feel shocked and uncomfortable:

Gavin’s Post: Revisiting the old haunt.

MC: I haven’t been there in a long time either.

Gavin: There’s no special need to go.

What makes this Moment interesting?

This Moment occurs after the Reunited Yesterday R&S

In the Reunited Yesterday R&S, the boss of Lynn’s Kitchen reveals that MC has a long-time habit (even till now), of eating there alone - sitting at the same seat and eating a bowl of beef noodles with extra chilli

So when Gavin posted the Moment, he already knew that MC visits “the old haunt” often

This means MC is lying in her response + Gavin knows and doesn’t call her out on it

From Ch 1 of the main storyline and the R&S, it’s not difficult to see that MC holds complex emotions towards Gavin - there’s a sense of alienation yet longing, a sense of reservation yet reluctance to part, a sense of pride and stubbornness. It’s as though something happened in their shared past that they are keeping secret.

As such, MC’s response could be her concealing how she feels towards this “old haunt”, which by extension symbolises their shared past in high school.

S2 Gavin is difficult to ruffle. So instead of simply calling her out, he mirrors MC’s indifference. If read this way, there’s actually an element of teasing in his response - not coldness.

What about the alternative Moment where he sounds cold too?

Gavin’s Post: Revisiting the old haunt.

MC: Is Officer Gavin on a mission?

Gavin: Just passing by.

In S2, Gavin and MC’s positions are diametrically opposed. MC enquiring about Gavin’s work i.e. the operations of the STF, would immediately set Gavin on his guard. His indifference is in line with his role as the captain of the STF.

[End of analysis by 今天鱼子酱也不愿产粮 on Weibo]

Fun fact: MC makes reference to the above Moment in the [Throbbing Date] call:

MC: …come to think of it, Mr Keller seems to miss you a lot.

Gavin: Mm. He invited the both of us to participate in a school activity.

MC: There’s no special need to go.

Gavin: …

MC: I’m kidding. If you’re the one inviting me, I’ll definitely be there.

🌪 IN SUMMARY 🌪

It remains to be seen how Gavin would react if/when MC does go against STF. We should find out in the next CN update, since Ch 1 of the main storyline ended on a cliff-hanger with the STF surrounding MC’s office :’D

Instead of feeling worried about it, I’m actually quite excited to see how things will progress :> Their relationship has so many more layers for us to discover - a shared past in Loveland High, how they navigate their clashing positions, how they work together as the power couple they are, etc.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin

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xddaengx · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home: Safety

⚬ Pairings: Hoseok x Reader ft Jimin

⚬ Genre: Hybrid AU | Romance | Angst |

⚬ Warnings: Mentions of Trauma | Nightmares | PTSD | Mentions of Domestic Abuse |

⚬ Word Count: 4.4k

⚬ Summary: Adopting Hobi was a complete accident - well maybe not an accident - but you definitely did not expect to walk home from the adoption fundraiser with a ex-police dog in tow. But maybe having Hoseok around was going to be a blessing in disguise.

⚬ Author’s Note: This is apart of the Welcome Home Series. This is the first instalment - and there will be many more to come! Let me know what you thought and who you think will be next. (it should be pretty obvious)

“We’d like to welcome all the participants in todays fundraiser. All of the hybrids that are up for adoption today have been rescued and rehabilitated over the past two years, and have finally decided they wanted to find new families.” The old woman says into her microphone, the hybrids standing around the stage waving to the audience - some definitely more excited that others.

You look over each of the hybrids, some cat and dog hybrids as well as some exotics standing on the sides of the stage interacting with the people that approach them to ask about adoption.

“You look a little lost.” A voice whispers from besides you as you look down at your handout with a photo and small description of each of the hybrids up for adoption.

“Yeah…A little bit. I really didn’t think I was going to come today but my doctor thinks adopting a hybrid could be really beneficial for me.” You say back glancing at the older man besides you quickly before turning back to the handout. “I don’t even know what kind of hybrid I’m looking for.” You whisper more to yourself than anyone, sighing as you drop your hand holding the handout.

“Well it sounds like you need more of an active hybrid, but not one that is overly excitable - oh and one that isn’t too standoff-ish.” He says taking the handout from your hand looking over it quickly before letting out a big grin. “And I know just the one.”

The man moves quickly, waving for you to follow him. He shuffles over to a small tent at the back of the fundraiser, two straight faced hybrids standing underneath it.

“Hoseok. Jackson. Meet…” You quickly give the man your name, and he repeats it softly, giving the two hybrids an encouraging smile as they both introduce themselves back.

“Our lovey friend here is interested in adopting a hybrid - and judging by what she was saying she needs someone just like you, Hoseok.” The old man can’t help but nudge the black haired hybrid towards you, the two of you quickly taking steps apart.

“Hobi here is one of my old partners - we spent most of our days stuck in that ragged old police car, but we still managed to have fun. Didn’t we?” The man chides, Hoseok nodding along as he continues to look over your appearance.

“You were in the police force?” You question, the old man nodding quickly.

“I still am - but our hybrids tend to get worn down quicker, it’s a tough job for them - most of them retire by the age of twenty five. Hobi, here was one of our best. I wanted to make sure he got the best home possible, so I thought I would bring him here - see what kind of family he was looking for.” You nod along to the mans answer, looking over to the large scar running from the bottom of the hybrids chin, disappearing under his collar.

“That’s understandab—“

“I like her.” The hybrid cut you off, looking over to the man standing besides the two of you. “She has a good smell.” He adds, though he could smell something mixed in - a smell he was very familiar with - Anxiety.

“Ok - well maybe we should leave the two of you alone for a moment…to discuss things.” The man and the second hybrid scuttle away the two of them sending you an encouraging smile distracting you as hoseok takes a few steps closer, inhaling deeply.

“What are you doing?” You shriek, jumping away from the hybrid - his own reflexes making his jump back as well, straightening his back.

“Sorry…I just needed to make sure.” He says quickly, putting his hands up in defence turning to grab some papers off of the table. “You smell like sunflowers and honey.” He says handing you the papers and a pen, before adding, “Though, I can smell some fear - you don’t like being in public places, do you?”

“No, not particularly. What are these?” You look down to the papers in your hand taking the pen from Hoseok.

“They’re expressions of interest. If you are interested in adopting me, you need to fill one out. Mr Bang will look through all the forms at the end of the evening picking the top three and then let us decide who we want to be with more.” Hoseok explains, pointing to the pile on the table - the pages already covered in ink. “Most of those people are inadequate - they either want the status or the skills of an ex police hybrid. But you…You are much better. I like you much better.” He adds quietly, watching expectantly as you read through everything on the paper clicking the end of the pen a few times before looking back to him.

“It’s only if you want to though…I understand if you don’t want to - we can be a bit intimidating.” You sigh and give him a small smile before beginning to fill out the forms, taking notice of the small smile that blooms on Hoseok’s face as you focus on the forms, his smile disappearing as you lift your head to look back at him as you hand him the forms - completed.

“We will be in touch very soon.” Hoseok says leaving you in the dust as he rushes to the old man standing across the grass oval, handing him the forms with hurried words - the old man sending you a big smile in response.

It’s been three days since the adoption fundraiser and you haven’t heard anything about the ex police hybrid and the happy old man. To be completely honest - you were disappointed.

Hoseok - as weird as he was - left quite a nice impression on you. He left you with a feeling of warmth you hadn’t felt in years. His smile haunted you as you wondered what went wrong.

Maybe they just chose someone more qualified?

Even Hoseok said ex police animals can be intimidating.

Your phone ringing from the lounge makes you spring up from the chair at the dinner table - rushing to grab the phone and answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi…This is Hoseok from the adoption fundraiser, is this the number for Y/N?” The voice cuts through you like a knife, and you can’t help but smile.

“Yes, this is Y/N.” You answer quickly. What if he’s giving you bad news? The boy on the other line seems to pause for a moment before spitting out.

“Would you be able to meet me at the coffee shop next to the Incheon Police Station? I was hoping you were still interested in finishing off those adoption papers.” You can’t help but let out a deep breath - this was everything you had been thinking about the past few days.

“Yes. Yes, I’d love to.” You say quickly, cringing slightly before you add, “I could probably drop in, in about half an hour,” in a softer tone. The boys on the other line seems just as excited, his voice cracking slightly as he confirms with a ‘see you soon’ before hanging up the phone.

You rush to get ready, tidying what you could, of your crowded apartment, just in case. You pull on a large cardigan, grabbing your bright yellow handbag from the door before rushing down the stairs to your car parked on the street - the drive to the cafe passing quickly.

It’s easy to spot the hybrid and his previous owner sitting in the corner of the cafe - teenage girls gawking and whispering about the cute hybrid, the sound seeming to annoy Hoseok by the twitching of his ears. His gaze moves from the group of teenager over to you standing by the door, his facing lighting up as he pokes his owner motioning to where you stand.

You hurry over to the two smiling men, ignoring the way the teenage girls scoff as you pull up a seat, giving Hoseok a small smile as his tail smack against the chair besides him.

“Y/N, we’re so glad you could make it. Hobi here has been talking about you non-stop. He refused every potential owner I showed him.” The man laughs as you take a seat, the hybrid flushing as his secret is revealed.

“Well, I’m glad. I was really disappointed for a moment, I thought you had chosen someone else.”

“Never.” Hoseok gasps at your sentence. You stare at him for a second, surprised at his dramatic reaction.

“He’s always been one to bond quickly. There are many people he doesn’t like but when he finds someone he does like - he doesn’t let them go.” The man explains, looking at Hoseok with a fond smile. “Well, I guess we should get on with it.”

Filling out all the paperwork take the three of you almost two hours.

Apparently owning a hybrid comes with quite a lot of paperwork.

“Ok, well I’ll go send these to the registration office and they should send you and hobi your new licenses in a few days.” The older man says. He had briefly explained to you that hybrids and owners must carry a license that shows their status. Yours will have a picture of Hoseok and his details on it as well as your own to show that you're his rightful owner, whiles Hoseok’s will have a picture of you and your details as well as his own to show others that he has been adopted.

“It saves everyone a lot of trouble - a clear way to show that they are owned and cannot be taken without consent. It also gives them a bit more freedom.” The older man had said after explaining everything to you. You nodded as he collected all the papers sliding them into a yellow envelope before tucking it under his arm.

“Well, we better get your stuff out of my car.” He says and Hoseok jumps up to help grab all of his belongings, moving them from the mans sleek black car, into your run down silver jeep. The two men embrace each other quickly - the older man whispering something into Hoseok’s ear that has him nodding and stepping towards you, as the old man slides into his car pulling away from the curb shortly after.

“We should probably get some groceries before we go home.” You mumble, fumbling with your car keys - motioning for Hoseok to get in the passenger seat.

Your trip to the store is quick, Hoseok’s face was straight as he watched all the people mull around - but his tail wagged like crazy, hitting against your hip every few seconds as you pick out some of his favourite foods, and treats, deciding tonight was going to be a celebration and you would both order pizza for dinner.

Hoseok carries all the groceries for you, rejecting your attempts to take one of the bags from him, he follows behind you closely as you make your way to your apartment, his tail now smacking against the wall as you walk down the hall.

“Look what we have here?” A voice hisses from outside your apartment door. You smile at the spoilt hybrid, jumping at the way Hoseok growls from behind you.

“Be nice, Jimin. This is Hoseok, my new hybrid. We just finalised the paperwork today.” You say quietly opening the door to your apartment, ushering Hoseok inside as you turn back towards the feline hybrid.

“Oh…You got a hybrid?” Jimin asks, the surprise evident on his face. You had known Jimin for four years now, since your first moved into your apartment - his owner an elderly woman that lived down the hall - used to spoil him rotten. He was her prized possession. Recently she had gotten weaker and Jimin had turned to getting his attention from you.

You had mentioned to Jimin in the past the your were thinking of getting a hybrid, and that your doctor had recommended one. He had joked with you, saying you should just adopt him. You laughed and waved off the idea never taking notice of the way his face dropped.

“Well, I guess that means I can’t hang around anymore.” He shrugs going to walk to his own house but you stop him, a small hand on his wrist.

“You know your welcome anytime, Jimin. I’m sure Hoseok wouldn’t mind the company either.” Jimin nods at your words, a deflated smile on his face, as he lightly pulls his wrist from your hand before sauntering to his apartment.

“I don’t like that cat.” Hoseok says as you close the front door, You sigh leading him to your kitchen to start putting the groceries away. “He had a weird smell when he saw me…Like he was angry about me being here.” He adds, helping you unpack the groceries onto the bench so you could put them away.

“Well, you’re going to have to like him. He’s a good person - he can just come off as a little snobbish.” You say, pulling your phone out of your pocket as everything is put away.

“Let’s order some pizza and then I can show your new room.” Hoseok’s tail begins wagging once more.

The first two months of having Hoseok live with you were fairly uneventful - you were quick to take him shopping to get anything he wanted to decorate his new room. Jimin had yet to come inside while the dog hybrid was in the house, preferring to talk to you in the hallway - still craving your attention, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

The first set of problems seemed to arise three months after Hoseok had joined you as your new companion. He was usually very quiet, preferring to just sit and watch you do things - read, work, cook, he watched you do anything with such amazement. He would on occasion have stage bursts of energy where he would pull you from your spot in the house demanding you go on a walk with him, or if you were busy it usually meant he would sulk in his room for the rest of the night.

The first time you noticed the whimpers coming from the room besides yours, you though it was a trick your mind was playing on you. It was so quiet, that you shook it off quickly.

Maybe it was the couple next door. They tended to get quite vocal.

The second time you heard it, a low growl followed and you knew it had to be coming from the black hair hybrid who slept in the room next door. You sprung up from your bed, leaving your room as quietly as possible, slowly opening the hybrids bedroom door.

“Hobi?” You questioned, walking further into the bedroom so you could see the boy clearly. His hair was a mess as his head thrashed about on the pillow, incoherent mumbles falling from his mouth as he let out another low growl.

“Let her go.” He growled, his teeth baring. You would’ve thought he was awake if your couldn’t see his eyes squeezed shut. “I said let her go…She’s just a child.” He continues, as your breath catches in your throat - you take a few more steps towards him, sitting on the bed besides him and his thrashing continues, his growls getting louder.

“Hobi.” You say one more time, a little louder as you reach out towards his sweat covered body.

“No.” He yelps, jumping up from his spot in the bed crouching besides it with a low growl. You jump up from the bed, throwing your hands up in defence as you look towards the shaking hybrid.

“Hobi, it’s just me. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” You say quickly, putting your hands by your side as you look over his appearance. The hybrid was obviously frazzled and covered in shining drops of sweat as he watches you walk around the bed until you stand besides him, unable to mask your concern for his demeanour.

“You’re ok. You’re safe.” You whisper quietly, dropping to the floor as tear well in the hybrids eyes.

“I couldn’t save her…She was just a child, and I couldn’t save her.” He cries, dropping his posture as a sob finally escapes him. You waste no time in latching your arms around his shoulders, using one hand to stroke his head softly, sharing soft whispers as he continues to cry on your shoulder - his hand wrapped tightly around your waist.

You’re not sure when he fell asleep again, but you remember pulling his blanket off the bed, draping it over the two of you as you lean back against the wall, stoking the hybrids head, that was placed lightly in your lap. You couldn’t leave him like this alone. So you sat with your back against the wall patting his soft hair until you eventually drifted off to sleep as well.

“What was all the ruckus last night?” Jimin questions you, as you sit outside your apartment building, a cup of tea clutched tightly in your hand, a large jacket around your shoulders. You look at him surprised, not knowing how he could’ve heard the two of you in your apartment. The nightmare had been continuing to get worse over the past few weeks and didn’t show any sign of stopping.

“You know Hoseok used to be a police hybrid?” You say softly, noticing the way Jimin grimaces. It was a job - though one Hobi loved - that no hybrid envied. The canine hybrids were usually used for tracking, in most cases tracking people, who unfortunately were rarely still alive. “He was used for body retrievals.” You add, letting out a shaky sigh, as Jimin scoots closer to you, draping the yellow blanket from around his shoulders, around your own.

“I can’t imagine what he had to go through.” Jimin whispers, and you nod pulling the blanket tighter, giving him a small smile.

“His previous owner warned me that there would probably be some signs of PTSD, but the last few weeks it’s just gotten worse. He barely sleeps anymore.” You say to the feline, who just sighs besides you, it’s not like he knows how to help.

“Why don’t you do what I used to do, when you had nightmares?” Jimin suggests, the bright smile on his face bringing one to your own.

“You’re a genius, Jimin.” You say quickly, springing up from your spot on the steps, pulling the blanket off your shoulders and draping it back over Jimin’s. “Thank you.” You add giving jimin’s ears a small scratch, his purring starting quickly, before you pull away to rush back to your apartment.

“Anytime.” He whispers as he watches you rush off - though he knows you didn’t hear him.

“Hobi, would you mind come helping me with something?” You call down the hall finishing putting the cupcakes on the plate, bringing them over to the large blanket fort in the middle of the lounge room. Hoseok shuffles down the hallways pausing as he catches sight of the large piles of blankets on the floor, one sheet hanging over the T.V and the back of the lounge, to create a tent.

“What is this?”

“Well, when I used to have a lot of nightmares, Jimin used to come over and build a small fort with me. We would spend all day just watching movies, or reading and we would pig out on all the junk food we could think of.” You explain motioning to the coffee table covered in snacks and treats.

“Why are you doing all of this?” He questions quietly taking a few steps towards your set up, looking at it hesitantly.

“Because sometimes all we need is to feel safe. And sometimes being in small, comfy spaces can do that for people.” You answer, watching as his gaze moves between you and the fort a small smile blooming on his face, his tail wagging slowly. “Hobi, I know things in your past aren’t just going to disappear overnight, but whenever you need a little extra safety, just let me know.” You barely have time to finish your sentence before the canine bowls into you, wrapping you in his arms as tight as he can, letting out a shaky breath into your hair.

“Thank you…Thank you for everything.” He mumbles on your skin, as you reach up to pat his head lightly, scratching behind his ears a little bit.

“Should we start with Jurassic park?” You question, not moving to let go of the boy until he doesn’t first.

“I hope your not watching my favourite movie without me.” You and Hoseok both turn to look at the cat hybrid standing in the door way. Looking at the two of you with a small smile.

“I knew you would come.” You cheer, letting go of Hoseok to pull Jimin over to your set up, ushering Hoseok under the fort first, before you and Jimin follow. You set up the movie, the three of huddled under one big blanket as the nostalgia kicks in.

All three of you were starting to drift of nearing the end of the first movie. You were tucked up against Hoseok, your breathing even, as you slept peacefully. Hoseok lets out a sigh before turning towards Jimin, not knowing how to phrase what he was going to say.

“She said you used to help her with her nightmares?” Hoseok begins, catching Jimin’s attention instantly. Jimin’s eyes look down at you sleeping before looking back at Hoseok giving him a quick nod. “Her nightmares…What were they about?” He questions, taking Jimin by surprise.

“It’s not really my place to tell you…just know she moved here to get away from her past.” Jimin answers looking back down at your with a sad smile. “It was always heartbreaking to see such a gentle person, so terrified of something. I would do anything to help her never feel that again.”

“Me too.” Hoseok agrees, the two hybrids finally having something in common. It doesn’t take long for the two of them to give in to exhaustion, the two following closely behind you into a deep slumber.

You wake surprised to hear Jimin purring in your ear, as Hoseok hold onto your waist with a vice like grip. You smile quickly trying to stifle a laugh as Jimin’s tail twitches, falling over your waist, tickling Hoseok. You barely manage to slip out from between the two of them, without waking them out - but somehow, by the grace of god, you make it out. You make yourself a cup of tea before making your way over to the large window to the side of the lounge room, watching as people make their way to work.

“Y/N? Do you think we could talk for a moment?” Hoseok’s sleepy voice makes you turn away from your people watching, you look down at the still sleeping Jimin and motion for Hoseok to follow you down the hall into your bedroom.

“You mentioned that you had nightmares last night, and I couldn’t help but wonder…Why?” Hoseok’s question surprises you, but you just give him a small smile.

“I was engaged, once upon a time.” You say with a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood as you take a seat on the bed, Hoseok copying you movements, his attention only on you. You let out a small sigh before continuing.

“Things started off well between us - he was kind, and gentle and so, so charming. But once he had proposed things started to go badly. He started drinking a lot and most nights he would come home and just fall asleep on the lounge, but sometimes he would be so angry, so full of hatred.” You take a few deep breaths, watching a Hoseok scoots closer to you taking your hands in his.

“The first time he hit me, he told me he made a mistake. But it just kept happening. Eventually he stopped apologising for it - start blaming me, made me think I was the reason he was beating me. Sometimes instead of beating me, he would hold me down and…” You pause for a moment, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“He would have his way with me…I gave up fighting after two years, and just let him do whatever he wanted, just praying that maybe he would kill me - or maybe he would accidentally kill himself. “ You pause again, Hoseok’s eye brimming with his own tears.

“One night he hit my head against the table and I lost consciousness, he still somehow had enough humanity to panic and call an ambulance. A hybrid - like you actually - could smell the fear on me whenever he was in the room, and when he took my statement he was quick to piece everything together…God, I’m a mess.” You laugh as you wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“You’d think after five years of therapy, it wouldn’t still affect me this much…Anyway, they found enough evidence and prosecuted him. He’s in jail for the next twenty years and hopefully by the time he gets out, he’ll have no idea where to find me.” You finish looking down at Hoseok’s hand gripping yours tightly as small droplets fall from his eyes. You pull your hands out of his own, wiping the tears of his cheeks softly giving him a smile.

“When I moved here, I was still struggling - one night I was having a nightmare, and Jimin had managed to slip into my apartment and woke me up. He could hear me from down the hall, and was concerned. Every night for a month after that we slept in the lounge room, in a little fort just like last night…He helped me a lot in my recovery from what happened, so he can get a little protective sometimes.” You explain, Hoseok nodding along to your words.

“Anyway, why don’t we wake up Jimin, and we can go to the cafe down the road, and get some pancakes for breakfast.” You say quietly standing up from the bed, wiping your face one more time, not noticing as Hoseok stands up as well, wrapping you in a hug from behind.

“I’m never going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N…Never.” He whispers, his warmth seeping into your chest, making you feel safer than you ever have.

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sxveme-2 · 3 years

Text

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twelve: The One With the Coffee

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3073

Lily Briar Osborne. The girl that would lay her life down on the line for anyone who even showed her the slightest of affection. Or even just said hi to her on the subway or something. She would never hurt a fly. Never raise her voice or become angry. Even when parents grew upset with a diagnosis Lily had given to their child. But when it came to her son, her boy, the earth she, the sun, revolved around. That's when she would cut someone. She would go to war for Hunter, and everybody who knew Lily understood this. And they all knew never to cross her when it surrounded her only child.

She would even dare to take on the challenge of a six-foot-four, 220 pounds, man, made out of strictly muscle. Lily Osborne. The five-foot-five, 128 pounds, meek, and frail doctor would throw down in an apartment building parking lot almost an entire foot taller than her if it meant protecting her son from his reckless tendencies for the rest of his (hopefully) long-lived life. The surge of strength that ran through her veins rivalled the primal levels that a woman can feel while experiencing childbirth. For it has been scientifically proven that the mama bear instinct is indeed a real thing women experience, their child or not. It is wired in a woman's DNA to place their own life at risk or face an unspeakable force if it meant protecting a child. Especially when that said person is a mother, it heightens that instinct.

So the sheer thought of Scott putting their child, and Mary's, in danger, was enough to make Lily a new woman. One with no reservations or any sort of anxiety holding her back. She wished to inflict the pain he made her feel on to him. Make him experience the heartache that he had caused her for over ten years. Together or not. The heartbreak he inflicted on her. The feeling of abandonment that Hunter experienced at such a young age. And it all came to a head because he had decided to make the brilliant choice of leaving his children home with a deadbeat babysitter. And all she wanted was to strangle the life out of him.

But that would create more problems than it would solve, wouldn't it?

"What do you mean I'm done being a father? He is my son Lily," Scott grumbled, his voice dropping a few octaves in an attempt to create a more domineering presence.

"He is more Gen's child than he will ever be yours. The divorce gave you a second chance to be better. And you blew it. Again," the blonde snapped, stepping back and draping her arm across her son's frail shoulders, "Tell Mary to call me if she needs any divorce tips."

With the final dig served, Lily lead her son and the others back towards her car, where everybody piled in. But before the doors shut. One voice, one powerful and overprotective voice spoke out, "See you in court, jackass." Rose's voice called from the driver’s seat before Gen slammed the door and everybody was locked inside of the car.

-----

After dropping Gen and Rose off at Gen's apartment building, Bucky took over the wheel after Lily inputted the GPS. Seeing as he was the only sober one since Rose left...being a supersoldier and all. Lily sat in the backseat of her car, gripping her son close to her chest as the car revved along the empty streets of now suburban New York. Gentle music played in the background as Lily listened to the soft breathing emitting from Hunter's lips. The boy had dozed off not too long ago, and let’s face it, the boy deserved to have some shut-eye. He had just gone through something that would stick with him through all of his years. But one thing kept sticking inside of Lily's mind as if stuck on repeat.

Why was the guy calling out Scott's name while banging on the door?

"Want me to carry him in?" Bucky's soothing voice cooed, snapping Lily out of her thoughts. Without realizing it, they had arrived back at the quaint-style house that she and Hunter called home. Her hand halted from stroking the blonde hair atop of her son’s head and gave the man upfront a gentle smile.

"Oh, that's okay. I've carried him from the car a few times," Lily smiled while popping open the car door and scooping her son into her arms. She let out a quiet grunt as she stepped from the car, forgetting that he was still a growing boy. Seeing as he was turning 12 soon...Lily almost became tearful at the thought of him growing up. Clearing her throat, she nodded to the keys in Buckys hand, "Unlock the door for me would you?"

Complying, the three passed the threshold, coming face to face with a sleeping Joey at the front door. Lily smiled gently and stepped over the large dog that continued snoring on as she walked Hunter up to his room, tucking him in under the blue Captain America comforter she had gotten him for Christmas last year. Flicking on the Thor nightlight that sat on Hunter's bedside table, Lily placed a kiss on his forehead before shutting the white door behind her. She slid into her own bedroom to step out of her dress and pulled on pyjamas, scrubbing the makeup off of her face and letting her hair down. When she exited her room, her eyes spotted the kitchen light on, the blonde walked down the wooden stairs, feet tapping gently. Her green eyes laid on Bucky, looking at the framed pictures of the little mismatched group that Lily called her family.

Pictures of Lily, her brother, and her sister as kids. Lily a ripe 14 years old, Rose standing at a solid seven, and Cedar still being a young three-year-old. His eyes flickering across to one of Lily and Hunter in front of Stark tower When the young boy was only eight. Or Lily, Rose, and Gen sharing glasses of champagne at her bachelorette party all of those years ago. One of Lily's personal favourites though was her graduation photo. A bright smile plastered on her face as she held her diploma in her hands. But the one that Bucky couldn't seem to take his eyes off of is one of Lily's least favourites.

The first time that Lily held Hunter in her arms. Her hair stuck to her forehead from the sweat of childbirth. It had been 27-hour labour, and Lily's face stayed puffy and red as she held the freshly swaddled and cleaned baby in her gentle arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the baby halted his screaming the moment his mother’s heartbeat began to radiate in his ears. The god-awful hospital light beat down on Lily's face, creating a fluorescent glow around her already beaming facial expression. Everything inside of her wanted to toss the photo off of the picture table and keep it for her eyes only. But her mother loved the photo and managed to convince her ever-so-insecure daughter to leave it. Alicia Osborne had said it showed genuine happiness from her daughter and created a new light. It was raw and real. And that's what everyone loved about it.

Especially Mr. Barnes.

"Twenty-seven hours later..." Lily sighed gently as she leaned on the banister, "I wanted to get a c-section but looking back at it I'm glad I didn't...but the pain is still a haunting memory." The blonde commented, eyes scanning over the pictures herself.

In each picture that was taken without Lily's knowledge, her smile was bright. A warm glow lit up any room that she managed to find herself in. It was an infectious thing, the doctor’s smile. It radiated kindness and sincerity. A certain type of authenticity that seemed to be a gift that was few and far between. Everybody had become too hostile and aggressive with one another, but that one diamond always seemed to be found in a group of coal. And that's how the majority of people in her life viewed Lily. She was the one tomato that would grow on the plant when you first started gardening. The rose that stuck out brighter than the rest. And even though she tried so hard to blend in and run with the crowd, Lily's energy, or aura as Gen would say, was too charming for anybody to ignore. Much to the eldest Osborne's dismay.

"You look beautiful," Bucky began, hand resting on the side of the silver frame and lifting up the photograph, getting a closer look at all of the small details. The way the tears made her eyes light up like green Christmas lights. or how they seemed to be made of stained glass. How he could see all of the similarities between Hunter and Lily, even when he was just born. The curve of their noses, the twinkle of love in their eyes. A bit of Bucky's heart broke at the domesticity of it all. Sure he was a playboy back in the ‘40s, but he had dreamed of a family one day. A small home and a dog. A beautiful wife beside him and a son and a daughter, similar to the life that Lily leads now. but he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to find that, "Just...naturally."

Placing the sentimental picture back down, Bucky raised his ice-blue eyes to look at the woman that stood on the stairs. Her golden hair tousled, laying perfectly messy across her shoulders. The pale skin of her cheekbones that were naturally coloured a bit red. How Lily's face was so naturally beautiful, even with the faint acne scars on her cheek, the blemishes across her forehead and chin (no doubt from her work). The deepness of her under-eye that was permanently stained a purple hue from countless late shifts and sleepless nights. The way her eyes fluttered open and closed as she attempted to keep herself awake and coherent after the hectic night that she had just suffered through.

"Thank you. I didn't feel very beautiful at that moment though. Just a lot of emotions going through my mind." she chuckled sleepily, barefoot landing on the cool hardwood of the main floor of her two-story home. Lily stepped forward, past the supersoldier as she herself lifted the picture from his hand to look at herself and her son. But who was missing from the picture? You guessed it. Scott, "You're probably wondering where the father of my son is in this picture," Lily commented, tears welling up on her waterline, "Supposedly stuck at work. But I learned later that wasn't the case."

Dropping the framed photo back onto her small table collection, Lily kept her eyes down on the floor. She had grown ashamed (?) of her past relationship. How he had so obviously been walking all over her like she was a rug. And instead of standing up for herself and confronting the son of a bitch, she took it. For seven years, Lily took the pain and emotional trauma that Scott had inflicted upon her heart and mind. All because she hadn't had the strength or the courage to stand up for herself. To know her own worth and realize that she was Lily Osborne. One of the top pediatricians in new york. Single mother of an eleven-year-old boy. The woman who graduated top of her class, all while raising a child alone in New York. The girl who came out on the other side of an emotionally abusive and draining relationship alive and intact. She was Lily fucking Osborne. And she had allowed a deadbeat, no good, son of a bitch, to use and manipulate her like a pawn in his game.

And she was ashamed of it.

"And who's this big guy." Bucky's smooth voice cooed, once again, reeling Lily in from the dark corners of her mind. Lily glanced over her shoulder to see Bucky delicately stroking Joey's ears. The dog had a stupid grin on his face, just enjoying the attention from the new person his mom had decided to bring into her home.

"That's joey. The other boy in my life." Lily smiled, eyes creasing as she admired the way Bucky interacted with her dog. Though not much of a guard, clearly, Joey was an excellent judge of character. Lily had learned this when she once brought home a nurse friend and Joey lost his ever-loving mind. It was later revealed that that nurse was stealing money out of Lily's wallet. And really, ever since that moment, Lily trusted Joey's reaction to people she brought home.

And by the looks of it, the German Shepherd had a new favourite friend. Lily's heart swelled at the sight that had taken place in front of her. The soft touches Bucky made with his left hand. The metal one. It seemed as though Bucky was nervous he would scare Joey, or worse, cause harm. But to Lily, it was one of the most endearing things she had seen him do in the entirety of their friendship? If that's even what it was. The two weren't romantically involved, they weren't close friends. They were more so acquaintances. Of course, Lily was attracted to Bucky, he looked like he had been sculpted by the Greek gods. Not to mention, he was a kind soul. He was sweet and caring. And the way he acted for Hunter and the way that he treated Joey was evident of that.

"Uh, do you want some coffee?" Lily asked, scratching her cheeks with her nails, shifting her weight before walking off towards the white and grey-styled kitchen with navy blue accents. Her thin hand dripped the dark kettle and filled it with water before placing it back onto the boiling device. Her deep-set eyes glanced over her shoulder to see Bucky once again admiring the pictures placed aesthetically on a brown stained wood table, "Bucky?"

"Hm? Oh, sure. thank you." his voice echoed. It was a deep vibrato tone that sent a shiver down Lily's spine. It was a voice that Lily would love to hear in the mornings. One that she could only imagine would continue to drop a few octaves. Small grunts as he stretched after waking from a deep slumber. cradling Lily tight in his arms as Joey snored soundly at the end of their bed with the light shining through the sheer white curtains.

The feeling of his calloused flesh hand and the contrast of his cold metal hand sliding along her pale and supple side in the morning. Slightly chapped and swollen lips kissing her forehead as her soft breathing radiated against his chest. Whatever it was about Bucky, it had an everlasting effect on Lily. It kept her heart beating rapidly and her face growing a deep shade of red that matched the natural rosacea of her cheeks. She longed for the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her thin waist as he pressed gentle and generous kisses to her cheek and down her neck, creating goosebumps on her skin.

Lily pulled out her coffee grounds from the cupboard and perked up when she heard the soft footsteps of Bucky's shoes tapping against her floors. After the kettle screamed at her, Lily poured two cups and took out the cream and sugar from her fridge and baking cupboard. Turning around, she came face to face with that same broad chest that she did all those weeks ago. A small gasp escaped her lips as the coffee sloshed inside of the navy blue mugs she held in each hand as she bit her lip.

"I take two sugar," he stated, cool eyes looking down at the girl as she attempted to avoid any contact between them. When she moved left, he thought to do the same. When she went to duck around his right side, he accidentally blocked her path. It was an uncoordinated, unplanned tango that neither one of them knew how to end. Well, that's what Lily thought at least.

His large hands reached forward and grabbed the mugs from Lily's. The supersoldier placed them on the counter island behind him before returning his attention to the much smaller blonde girl in front of him. Without thinking, he placed both hands with no hesitation on either side of her face. Her breathing came to a halt as he leaned forward and planted a deep and passionate kiss on her flower soft lips. His human hand threading into the hair that hung on the left side of her face, the golden tresses tangling into his fingers. Her own eyes fluttered closed as she returned the pressure that he had initiated onto her lips. Lily's arms slid around the man’s neck as she took a hesitant step forward, closing the small gap that kept them apart.

And after what Lily believed to be hours, the two broke away, lungs gasping for air. Lily's face exploded into a fit of red as she stared into the same eyes that always seemed to make her feel like she had a place in the world. Even if she had only seen or even been around him a handful of times, Bucky Barnes made Lily feel like she was the most special girl in the world, just by maintaining (or attempting) eye contact with her through those steel-blue eyes of his. The same eyes that used to be hidden by a mask and glasses because it was too dangerous for anyone to see his face. The same eyes that had seen the horrors of the world. The ones that watched men and women die at his hands.

"Your room is on the left when you go upstairs."

And with that, Lily darted out of his grip and up the wooden stairs with her heart pounding in her chest so loud she wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it. It played a dangerous rhythm in her ears as she shut her own bedroom door and fell back onto the plush pillows and blankets that laid decoratively on her bed. Lily's calloused hands slapped her forehead before sliding down to cover her entire face. The moment replayed in her head 1000 times over.

He kissed her. And she liked it.

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tartagilicious · 4 years

Text

spoken love > gavin, mlqc

→ Pairing | gavin x reader

→ Genre | angst w happy ending

→ Word Count | 9555

→ Warnings | tw; kidnapping and mild torture, + general heartbreak/feeling like you’re not good enough + the fluff at the end might give you cavities

→ Songs | orbit by hwasa and stefan’s theme by michael suby

→ Note | this plot took all of my brain cells to put together rip but at least I’ll be able to start working on requests again :) and yes, I love harassing victor in these for some reason. the poor boy deserves to be the one to win mc’s love 😔

@n3verending16

Flowers don’t bloom in the dark. Biologically, it’s impossible, but there are other factors that weigh in — things that stunt its growth just as greatly. It’s quite an open ended question, but this time, perhaps simply, the flower just felt as if growing any more was useless without her sun there to see it.

Call it a personal bias, but you think that must be it. Because as Gavin utters the very words you dread to hear, you feel as hopeless as a flower cut off from the sun.

“___,” he sighs. And it’s pained — too pained for someone who has just single-handedly snapped your heart in two. “I’m sorry. But it wasn’t something I could keep from you forever.”

I don’t love you anymore.

The words echo in your head so forcefully that you barely register Gavin’s voice. His apology only goes in one ear and out the other, much to both of your dismays.

“...I don’t understand.” Your voice is flat, but you know it’s only a matter of time and how particularly strong you’re feeling today until that breaks. “Why all of the sudden...?”

Gavin bites his bottom lip, as if holding back something before he only fesses up a shrug in response.

“I’m sorry.”

He sounds sorry, but you know from the bottom of your heart that there’s something underneath it. Gavin, a boy you’ve known since high school, who would always keep an eye out for you, who always picks you up and flies you home, who is always the first person to be there for anything -- is someone you know just as well as you know yourself.

“I don’t want to hear that. Can’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Your voice raises slightly with irritation, but in lieu of your unclear communication Gavin only stands and takes it. Like he should, you think, but you know that you don’t want to yell at him. He doesn’t deserve that — he never will.

“I really am sorry.”

You‘re at a loss for words as he shifts past you and silently lets himself out of your apartment.

Stay safe.

You frown as you whip around to the closed door, recalling the words he’d whispered to you when walking out. They fill you with a hopeless sense of dread and irritation that you can’t possibly manage to keep at bay for long.

And your frustrations do quickly surface — in the form of hopeless tears, with soundless sobs sneaking out of your throat that have you crippling to the floor.

That was almost 3 months ago.

By now, you’re not over it. You’re not over it in the least, and you’ve never lied to yourself or anyone else about that. That doesn’t mean it’s any less harder, but denial is simply just another fruit that you’re not willing to pick in the end.

Because there are already plenty of other nights that fill in the absent spots that denial leaves. Times where you’re too empty to eat, when you’re too lonely to sleep, and plenty and plenty of nights where your sadness tries to blame Gavin for your troubles — but, you can’t. The part of you that still believes something isn’t right just can’t bear to.

And so, you spend every moment of every sorrowful minute reminiscing, even if every single one of them is not your choice.

You don’t want your heart to drop into your stomach at the mention of his name. But it does. You don’t want to let a single person control your emotions like this, but you do. It’s meaningless to even claim that you want to feel this way, but it’s all too worth it to be the only one that knows you at least deserve better than your worst.

You want to get back to working at your best. You want to enjoy your favourite things again. All you want — all of it’s just out of reach for now. But, without him, without the reason that had torn you apart, you fear it’s impossible.

Yet, ironically, he was the one to teach you that nothing is impossible. He taught you that anything you chose to put your mind to, you could do, and now, you’ll be trying to use that very advice to piece everything back together.

Starting with him, of course.

There’s, of course, still that aspect that sticks out to you as wrong; something you haven’t been able to shake even after months of general, yet still mutual, silence on the subject. Whether it was the hesitance in his eyes or the sadness in his voice, you refuse to believe that it’s the end of the line. Especially considering Gavin’s own personality in regards to you -- it had always been in his best interest to keep you in the safest hands, even before you began to see each other as more than friends. So, it’s not as if you can completely rule out that possibility yet.

But, Gavin is like a lock. And sadly, it’s one that you lost the key to long ago.

Every time you encounter him, whether he flies you home, or helps you with a detail concerning something at work, he’s nothing but friendly and lithe in the ways he interacts with you. There’s little evidence of the hesitation you could’ve sworn that you saw that night, and it discourages a certain part of you greatly.

Still, you don’t want to give up. You feel like doing that would be like casting it to the side -- or more accurately, labelling the situation as plainly unimportant. And no matter what, that isn’t true. You want answers more than anything; concrete ones that won’t leave you with a bad taste in your mouth anymore. Answers that even if you didn’t like them, they settle your questions all the same.

Yet, you can’t help but feel pressured to.

Time after time he ignores the unsaid words floating in the air above you, and smiles without pain even when it’s obvious that you do.

maybe I was wrong?

You think hard to yourself one afternoon, right after Gavin had just dropped you off at home; unincidentally, of course. You can’t think of anything else, really, but the heartbreaking possibility that you’re concerned over nothing and Gavin really has just fallen out of love as he said haunts you more than anything else ever has.

That night spent alone is by far the worst.

But unbeknownst to you, a certain someone’s nights vary little.

Gavin feels tremendous regret. It’s a gnawing, aching feeling to know that while not only he lied to the love of his life, he is by no means closer to solving the problem that forced you apart. Three months have passed with only average progress on the particular case, and without you by his side, he can’t help but feel anxious every step of the way.

He feels time and time again the urge to tell you the truth, even if you choose not to accept it. And not just for himself -- but also for you. The way you’ve changed over time is terribly obvious to him if no one else.

But you aren’t a switch he can turn on and off at will -- your happiness is relative to only yourself. He just finds himself wishing that if not him, at least you could find the opportunity to live happily without him for now. He sees the way the emotions in your eyes rise and fall whenever he interacts with you. And though it gives him little insight into what goes on behind closed doors, it makes him feel bad all the same.

Because he knows it’s his fault, and wants nothing more than to get things over with so he can tell you the truth you deserve.

And finally, one day he realises that he might be closer than he thought.

“Gavin.”

He looks up to greet the man who’d just walked in, but thinks better of it when he sees his expression. This particular case had been handed to Eli first, as it fell more under his category than Gavin’s, but was extended out to him in lieu of progression.

That much alone told Gavin that this mission was unlike any he’d done before.

Usually, missions take mere days to complete -- up to about a week at most, but this one has been stretching on for months. It makes him anxious when he thinks about how long Eli had been at it before him, but all Gavin knows he can do nothing more than try his best to shorten it.

“What is it?”

“I think you should see this.”

A newspaper, dated to only a few weeks ago, is tossed on the table in front of him. It doesn’t really look to be anything special, with the headline only referencing business moguls and trivial local news rather than information they’re looking for. But, just as Gavin goes to open his mouth, he notices an article on the bottom of the page. It’s small, barely even noticeable, even, but the moment he reads the first words his eyes widen.

His eyes flicker up to meet Eli’s, who’s standing there with a small smile on his lips.

“Is this--?”

“Yep.” Eli nodded. ”Good thing I actually stopped to read it this morning, huh?”

Gavin’s lips curve up into a distracted smile, his attention returning to the newspaper and ultimately the little article about a missing persons case -- one of the very same they’ve been following. Listed under a few incidents is a woman’s name and information -- all average details such as height and weight that would inform anyone in the public of any specifics.

It’s nothing that they haven’t already uncovered, but there are certain details in the article itself that strike him as odd.

“Time and place of abduction.” Eli fills in the blanks before Gavin can even find the words to speak. “Whoever wrote this article somehow managed to get a hold of the cctv footage from that night and put it out to the public.”

“Spiteful of them to do that,” Gavin mumbles, his grip around the newspaper tightening and loosening with every absentminded flex of his hand. “Especially when we’ve been trying to get it for months.”

“I don’t know, but, let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe they were just lucky.”

He turns to Eli with a dubious look on his face. “The footage is protected under the ownership of the residence, and not to mention, the permissions you need for it can take months. There’s no way they were just lucky.”

“Look, fine. I agree, okay? It shouldn’t have been possible, but here we are.” Eli shrugs, cutting the argument off even as there was more hanging in the air. “What if they just got special permission from the courts or something? Isn’t that possible?”

Gavin shakes his head. “No way. These processes take a while no matter the circumstances, remember?”

“Fine, then let’s find whoever put this article out and make them tell us how they got their hands on all this stuff.” Eli obviously can’t hold back a smile any more, patting Gavin on the shoulder a bit too lightheartedly for the other man’s taste. “Maybe we’ll be a little closer to finishing this all if we do.”

Finishing.

Gavin turns the word over in his head what feels like a hundred times, but no matter how he looks at it, it’s good -- really good.

He stands up and ceremoniously returns his partner’s smile. “Okay, then let’s do it.”

But, before they even have time to breathe, a new setback finds its way into their plan

“Wait.” Gavin does a double take when, hours later, Eli finally announces the company responsible for the article.”That can’t be right, it’s--”

Eli interjects with a sigh. “___’s company. I know.”

“It’s a production company, though. They don’t do articles and stuff, do they?”

“It’s not uncommon for companies like that to have different departments or whatever.” Eli shrugs. “And the article in question would check out, I guess, considering how close they are to the street with the cctv we’re trying to get.”

“But last time I talked to her, she wasn’t doing anything like that…”

“When was the last time you talked to her, then? Maybe it’s just a recent change or something.”

Eli asks the question nonchalantly, but is really none the wiser about Gavin’s situation than he was when everything began months ago. And so, the words do nothing remind Gavin of memories and mistakes, sending an involuntary strike of pain through his chest.

When was the last time I talked to her?

Not long ago, he thinks. Not long ago at all. He remembers distinctly all of the times he had encountered you on the street, or the times he’d flown you home after a carefully acted day out.

But when was the last time he’d really talked to you? Held a normal conversation?

He finds himself squeezing the hem of his shirt, so hard that his knuckles begin to fade into a sickly white. It’s like a punch in the face to realise something so late, but he can’t help but consider it a bit of a blessing to even recognise it in the first place.

“You know, this makes it easier if it’s just ___.” Eli interrupts Gavin’s downspiralling thoughts, resting his chin on his hand as he says, “We can just ask her about it face to face, then we don’t have to bother with the paperwork for requesting an official interview.”

And around an hour later, that’s how Gavin ends up in front of your company’s doors, cursing Eli and his cluelessness.

He swallows the ball of nerves in his throat and fidgets with his hands for a moment, but he knows that he can’t stay there forever. Everyone around him moves unabridged and casually, whether it be while talking on bluetooth or out on a late afternoon jog. He may not be the only one around that’s stuck in the past, but he sure is the only one taking time to dwell on it.

He uses that much to prompt himself inside.

The inside of the building is just as he remembers it to be, if not the same as it was months ago. It’s the little things he notices, like the familiar fake plants sitting in the corner of the waiting room, or the painting hanging on the wall that you’d mentioned was a gift from your dad a few times.

He’s relieved at least one thing is still familiar.

“Hey stranger. How can I help you?"

Gavin instinctively turns towards the voice, his eyes momentarily widening when he sees who sits behind the reception desk.

"Anna? What are you doing up here?” He gives your friend a polite smile as he makes his way over to where she sits. “Where’s the receptionist?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “He quit a few days ago, so your girlfriend put me up here on duty.”

Gavin pulls his lips into a thin line, trying to hold back his surprise. She didn’t tell them?

“Um, anyway, speaking of ___, where is she right now? I need to talk to her." He changes the subject as quickly as he can manage, and thankfully, Anna doesn’t seem to notice that was the intent.

“Right now? Should be up in her office finishing paperwork.”

“Okay, great. …Do I need a pass or anything?” He asks this, but regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. They're suspicious, of course, and it’s a dumb question regardless.

Anna gives him a deservedly strange look.

“Um, no, of course not.” She tries to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere with a laugh. “Just go. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

“Right,” He laughs nervously and briefly giving his thanks, steadily walking towards the direction of the elevator. When he steps inside, though, he lets out a long sigh. The previous awkward interaction left an embarrassed sting in his chest, and the familiar oncoming heartache of seeing you again will no doubt only add to it.

So, he spends the entire minute of the ride downright terrified.

It’s not like everything is magically resolved when your door opens either, though. The moment he hears your voice acknowledge his presence from inside the office, it’s appropriate to say that his heartbeat doubles -- or even triples, in just seconds.

But contrary to what he expects, your eyes still light up upon registering his face. He doesn’t understand why you’re happy to see him, but he welcomes it regardless.

“Gavin! It’s nice to see you.” You give him a friendly smile, but the all-too familiar feeling of anxiousness still lingers in your expression.

Startled, he just smiles back as he says, “Yeah, likewise. How are things here at the office lately?”

“Ah,” You sigh out a laugh. “They’re fine, but I’m sure you’ve already heard from Anna that our receptionist just quit. It won’t be hard to find a replacement, but it still kind of sucks since he was responsible for coffee runs.”

Gavin winces novelly, playing into your slightly joking tone. “That does suck. Who’s been going instead, then?”

“Minor offered, thank god.” You smile, a sliver of joy finally peaking through your tired eyes.

“That’s good.” He nods, slightly relieved at the sight. “I wanted to ask you, though, I saw an article in the paper that said it came from your company. Since when have you thought to put articles in the paper? I never heard anything about it from you, so--”

You interject, “Articles? We don’t write articles. That’s not the type of company we are.”

He blinks.

“Your company, though--” Gavin fishes his phone out of his jacket, where he pulls up the article in question. “This traces back here.”

Your brows furrow as you lean forward to read the screen in his hand, unaware of the way his face begins to heat up when noticing your concentration. On the other hand, he’s very painfully aware of how your brows twitch as you read it over, and even more so to the way your lips twist in apt concern.

Gavin spits out an explanation in place of the straining silence, and you nod along, though you take in every word at half its worth due to your own racing heart.

“We have basically no contact with the owners of that building, so we wouldn’t be able to get the footage either even if we wanted to.” You explain steadily, hiding your nerves in the squeeze of your knuckles beneath the table. “I don’t remember giving anyone permission to even write something like that, anyway.”

“Would someone else have given permission, then? Or, alternatively, do you think someone put it there for any other reason?”

“I can’t think of another reason, but there are definitely other people in the building who can give permission to employees, of course. “ You push a laugh. “I’m not the one sole source.”

“Anna can do almost everything I can, so maybe she did. Try her next.”

With that, the conversation trickles off weakly. It’s unbearable to do so, but Gavin leaves the room with a clambering heart. He has no doubt that things ought to be difficult if this is what he’ll be returning to, but still saves face for the chance that everything will turn out okay.

And around an hour later, he exits the building carrying all the information he needs.

“Eli, the guy’s gone and quit.”

His partner looks up at him with locked brows when he returns to the STF. “Our article writer?”

Gavin purses his lips and goes silent in thought, but it’s all the answer Eli needs. Gavin’s chest is heavily wrought with regret and disappointment that spans over multiple reasons, but he merely shakes out his shoulders and takes a seat down next to the other man, concealing his face in the way he always has.

Eli only turns a blind eye to Gavin’s front.“I guess that’s just our luck, but it’s still okay right now. Did you get any details about him?”

“Yeah, I managed. I’m not completely sure they’re real, though.”

Gavin hands Eli the small slip of paper that Anna had scawled the man’s information on and explains as he reads it over.

“Anyone else probably wouldn’t get anything out of this,” Gavin says, referencing only the name and phone number of the man in question written on the paper. “But since we’re here, we can probably do something with it, at least.”

Eli nods along as he speaks, and upon skimming the information, a pleased smile curves at his lips. “At least? We’ll have to run them, but it seems viable enough to me -- maybe even enough that this can finally give us the info we need to close the case.”

He returns a smile at the thought.

“I hope it does.”

Gavin’s mind brings him back to a few hours prior, where he watches himself trip and stumble over himself around you through the pitiful eye of his own memory. It takes a lot of him not to frown outwardly at his mistakes, but little to gain the determination needed to fix it. What happened then, that’s not how it’s supposed to be, and he knows it.

The memories switch to happier times when his heart finds it in him -- the starry and clear night he finally kissed you on the ferris wheel, the buzzing warmth of your arms around his torso when he goes a strategically fast speed on on his motorcycle, and of course, the moments where all he can see is you smiling in front of him, looking just as delighted as you always have been.

It’s just out of his grasp, but Gavin finds himself hoping that it’s still in his reach.

Because, in his mind, nothing is truly unattainable. And that philosophy goes for everything, but is most virtuous when it becomes the bearer of good news.

“Everything about this guy checks out for now.” Eli says this from his spot at the database station days later, turning his head over his shoulder to where Gavin is checking the contents of his utility belt from across the room. “So, I’m not sure that much precaution is necessary, Gavin.”

The other doesn’t even look up at his remark.

“Better safe than sorry. You know that.”

Eli just laughs and nods, obviously in a good mood regardless of his partner’s hesitance. “Ok then, whatever you want.”

Gavin gives him a dubious look, but otherwise goes back to his business.

“It’s not like we have much to expect, anyway.”

But, whether or not you expect something doesn’t deter fate. It seemed easy enough at the time, anyway -- so there was no reason for Gavin to doubt their plan even as he walked up to the man’s presumed address.

He eases into the situation by knocking on the mahogany door softly, calling out with what Eli had long called his ‘business’ voice.

“Police! Is anyone home?”

Gavin notes a candle in the window out of his peripheral vision and instinctively furrows his brows. Whoever’s here, the perp or not, it’s clear that they’re at least not one step ahead of him.

So, with that in mind, he makes the split decision to try the door. And much to his surprise, it opens without a lick of trouble, even the hinges not making the slightest sound. He purses his lips slightly as he comes face to face with the dark entryway he was expecting, yet still chooses to silently draw his weapon before stepping into the building.

And the moment he locates a pair of eyes in the dark, he knows his decision to do so was correct.

He clicks his tongue with the shift of the safety lock, his expression instinctively hardening even though he’s sure that the person can see just as much as he can.

“Come out with your hands up!”

Gavin’s voice doesn’t waver, but neither does the faceless figure in the dark.

Multiple sets of footsteps echo throughout the entryway, but Gavin doesn’t let them make a show. His eyes stay locked on the same unblinking ones that had drawn him in, and cocks his gun as if in warning.

Maybe they actually are one step ahead.

“I’ll say it one last time -- and that goes to anyone in the room. Come out with your hands up.”

His voice is cold, and if it were ordinary people standing around him, perhaps they would have listened. But, the thugs surrounding him have little in common with the regular citizen, most startlingly obvious in the weapons they hide sheathed in their belts; daggers engraved by the agency they belong to:

BLACK SWAN COLLECTIVE

The last thing Gavin can recall is the sharp pain of someone thrusting the handle of one of the said weapons into the back of his head, immediately sending him into a darkness he tried so hard to avoid.

Maybe it’s futile, useless even, but as everything goes black, he can’t help but think of you.

“You aren’t seriously planning on wearing that, are you?”

You look back at the exasperated voice that interrupts your shoot preparation, the recording equipment in your hands shifting slightly with your deep sigh.

“Victor, it’ll be hot once we’re on set, I promise.” Sending him only a brief smile, you continue to wrap the cords up. It’s quiet long enough that you naturally assume he’s left, but a few minutes later, you feel a presence at your side taking the last microphone and starting to mimic the same process you’ve been at for what feels like hours.

Victor takes in a near silent breath as he places the microphone in its case, zipping it shut with such familiarity that it momentarily muddles your brain. It’s been almost two years since you’d met him for the second time, walking into his office only to meet his cold voice and fearsome business methods. You’re subconsciously glad that you’ve gone through so much together, albeit tough, because your relationship has moved far because of it all.

“...I’ll grab a jacket before we leave.” You look up and flash another smile at him, but this time, you try to make it seem like you mean it. He seems to notice your hesitance regardless, but the look in his eyes still lifts slightly as he nods wordlessly.

The location of the shoot itself isn’t very far-close enough that the transportation won’t be taxing-but the stakes are still high nonetheless. A reputable American fashion outlet had reached out to Anna around a month ago asking if your company would consider filming an episode featuring some of their pieces, and even without asking you first, she had accepted in a heartbeat.

You couldn’t be mad at her for obvious reasons, of course, but you almost considered thanking her for a separate reason, too -- because it somehow seemed to line up on the perfect date.

It’s a hard pill to swallow even as you think about it, but today, the date of the shooting, is your and Gavin’s would-be year anniversary.

Without this shoot, there’s no doubt in your mind that you would be sulking at home otherwise, halfway through your second or third depression nap of the day. But instead, here you are, conversing quite normally to Victor and feeling a little less hopeless than you expected.

Your mind momentarily flickers to him, though, as if habitually. You can only imagine what he’s feeling like right now, sadly, but you still can’t help but pray that at least a fraction of him feels the pain you do

“___!”

Then someone calls your name, and suddenly, you’re back to work again.

One of the main focuses of the episode for your team is the outfits people on-screen wear, of course. But otherwise, the episode itself features a local meteorologist aiming to spread more information and awareness about the conditions of the recent continuous snow. It may not be known to be directly related to superpowers as of now, but as the producer of Miracle Finder, it’s your job to find miracles, and not only those of the supernatural kind.

“Okay, Victor, let me know when everything on that side is good. I’ll check over here.” You say this and wait for nothing more than a nod before going ahead and double-checking with all of your employees that stand ready to record.

All of your operations for the day seem to be going smoothly, so you shoot a quick thumbs-up to the main cameraman. As soon as your arm is back down at your side, though, you notice your phone buzzing from the pocket of your jacket.

Anxiety habitually runs through you as the screen lights up with a blocked number, unwillfully taking you back to all the times you’d been directly contacted by the unknown officers of Black Swan. It startles you so much that you think about letting it ring, but in the last moments, you decide to pick up.

You release a short breath of relief when an automated voice reaches your ears, and you even find yourself feeling a bit dumb about freaking out over nothing. Yet, while you think, a few words the robotic voice says catch your attention and send your heart into another panicked frenzy.

a wind evolver.

You bite down on your lip subconsciously, hoping that you heard wrong.

The voice says an address with its now eerie-seeming tone, and you squeeze your eyes shut as tightly as you can when the line cuts off without warning.

It’s a prank call. You think, not noticing the way Victor’s eyes finally find your worried ones from across the room. Gavin’s completely fine.

You stuff your phone back in your pocket with a resigned huff, a sour feeling settling deep in your stomach the longer you just stand there. Certain possibilities begin to habitually fly through your mind at a rate where you can barely discern them from one another, but each one leaves you with the same aching in your gut -- the same aching that has saved you so many times.

So, you take your phone out again and dial the number you know by heart.

The line’s continuous ringing suddenly seems ominous, and somehow worsens when you’re greeted by Gavin’s voicemail. But, you don’t want to give up just yet, so you find another name in your contacts that could potentially help.

Eli and you don’t communicate often-at least, not much outside of the times you see him-but he had given you his number soon after realising how close you were to Gavin, only just in case. You didn’t think there would ever have to be a ‘just in case’ scenario -- at least, until now.

Thankfully, he picks up after the first couple of rings, his familiar voice bringing a small smile to your face.

“Hey Eli,” You return, your smile growing slightly at the soft sound of recognition he lets out.

“___!” It sounds like he sits up straight before continuing. “It’s nice hearing from you. What’s up?”

You take in a hesitant breath before starting. There’s still a small chance that you’ll be asking baseless questions, and as embarrassing as that might be, you know you’d rather take it than the alternative.

“Well, it’s something with Gavin.” You say. “I just got this weird phone call saying something about him, and now I can’t get a hold of him. Is he with you?”

Eli doesn’t respond for what feels like a millenia, but then, the soft sound of a keyboard fills your ears, so you opt to wait patiently. He unabashedly picks the phone back up a few seconds later and sighs.

“..Do you remember what the phone call said?”

You recount the automated voice’s words and wince at how Eli curses under his breath. If anything, you know it’s at least not a good sign.

“What? What is it?” Dread spirals through your chest as you ask, habitually expecting the worst.

“Gavin went on a mission last night. He told me he’d get in touch when he finished, but he hasn’t yet.” You can almost hear him contemplating from across the line. “___, thanks for calling, but I’ve gotta go now--”

“Wait!’ you quickly interject, garnering the interest of a few production crew around you. But, you pay no mind to them. “Let me come with you.”

“What? No, ___, you’re not coming with me. Gavin would kill me if I got his girlfriend hurt!”

“Eli,” You sigh, a fingertip’s length away from sitting down to massage your temples. It seems that Gavin had chosen not to tell his colleagues about your breakup as well, but that doesn’t help the massive headache it causes every time to explain when someone catches on. “Gavin and I broke up 3 months ago. And now that that’s out of the way, I’m meeting you at the STF in 20 minutes, and if you aren’t there, I’m going to that address myself.”

He’s silent for a few moments before he lets out a reluctant agreement, only to peg on a few rules at the end that you just nod to.

“...20 and that’s it. Any more and i’m leaving without you.”

“Then I'll be there in 15.” You challenge, unable to contain your smile when you hear his resigned laugh.

“Then I’m counting down, ___.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, quickly thinking to find Victor. It’s unethical to leave during the middle of a shoot and you know he’ll give you crap for it, but you pray that the case of emergency will balance him out, even if it’s just a little bit.

You whisper his name until you’re able to wave him down, unable to help your nervous smile as he approaches you.

“___? Why aren’t you over there monitoring those--”

“I’m really sorry, but there’s an emergency that I need to--”

You cut yourself off when you notice Victor’s surprisingly unreactive face.

“I need to, um, be there. To help with it.”

Victor’s sigh feels heavier than usual as he crosses his arms, hitting you with his signature dubious look. But, the words that come out of his mouth aren’t at all what you expect.

“You look like you’re expecting me to decline something I have no right to keep you from doing in the first place.”

His words take a few moments to process in your jumbled brain, but before you can even react, he begins to shoo you away.

“That means go, dummy.” A soft laugh escapes his lips as his expression begins to melt. “I’ll tell your coworkers, just try to hurry back so I’m not blamed if something goes wrong.”

Your face perks up at the unexpected but appreciated development, shifting with a wide grin as you thank Victor as many times as possible before slipping away. While you weave your way through the distracted crew members, your phone mimics a lead weight in your pocket-- something that’s almost painful to ignore

But you only keep walking, putting on a brave face and praying that Gavin is okay.

“Nineteen minutes, ___.” Eli tells you this as soon as you hurry through the STF’s doors, tapping his smart watch with a familiar smile. “What happened to that fifteen you were talking about?”

“Shut up,” You scoff, unable to hold back your smile as you shake your head. “Would you really have left without me, anyway?”

“You know the answer already. But enough about that, come with me and I’ll catch you up a bit before we head out.”

You descend into silence as you follow Eli to the research room most frequented by the duo over the past few months, listening to the man skim over the events prior while somehow still leaving no semblance of a detail out. It’s faster than you expect, his explanation, yet it leaves you with very little gaps in the story between Eli’s and your own accounts.

“But, ___,” Eli begins as he picks up his jacket, meeting your eyes with such intensity that you almost flinch. “Make sure that when we’re there, you stay behind me no matter what. If they took Gavin down…”

He doesn’t need to finish.

“Yeah,” You choke out softly, berated by the hazy image your head provides of Gavin being so easily overpowered. “I will.”

Eli gives you a small reassuring smile before leading you out of the room, checking that every piece of his equipment is on correctly as he walks. An involuntary chill runs down your spine at a catch of his expression -- his usual carefree smile replaced with the solemn air that you would expect from an officer.

And you don’t like it one bit.

Gavin’s eyes shoot open, drawing a sharp gasp from his lungs as he slowly begins to regain consciousness. But the crackling sensation that floods his chest cuts him off before he can even so much as catch his bearings, begetting an irritated wince from the already tired man.

His vision is clouded by not only exhaustion, though, as the room is also dark in what feels like an unreasonable manner. Absolutely nothing is clear, whether it be what had happened beforehand, or even what lays a few feet in front of him. But in the meantime, another sharp pain forces him to look down and find out.

Rope burns his wrists as he twists his hands, trying to gauge a location for the extreme pain that has suddenly popped up. Gavin curses under his breath as he looks at the gruesome beds that used to hold his fingernails, snippets of memory coming back to him as his eyes rake over the beaten skin.

“You’re in no position to protect her anymore. Give up.”

A curt voice had induced Gavin to look up hours before, glaring into the tepid eyes that already stared back into his own.

“Ya hear that, pretty boy?”

The second and last black swan officer in the room had leaned over slightly as he engaged Gavin, but stood up straight again when the first gave him a subtle yet strong look of warning.

Gavin was silent throughout the exchange, though in his mind, he knew they were talking about you. Black Swan’s interest in you had all but lessened in the recent months, much to his and the STF’s displeasure. Knowing that they were after someone so powerless but not having the slightest idea why -- that scared him beyond belief.

“Your silence will change nothing,” The first man said, calmly re-buttoning his long coat. “Wind evolver, I’m afraid this is it for you.”

Gavin squeezes his eyes shut upon recalling the interaction he’d tried arduously to forget, inadvertently biting his lip so hard that it disturbs the blood already dried there. Disappointment and pain go hand in hand while flaring through his chest in equal measures.

He even briefly considers using his evol despite how little energy he has left, but is painfully aware of what it would take to escape if he did.

So he stays still, his mind racing far too much to notice the pain. Because even if he should, it’s not him that’s he’s worried about --

It’s you.

Meanwhile, seemingly worlds apart from the danger Gavin perceives, you sit in Eli’s passenger seat, safe and sound yet fueled by the vehicle’s general silence. A part of you thinks that you should be scared, but only because you know it wouldn’t be refuted as much as if you said how you really feel.

It’s not necessarily wrong to be determined, though. And because you’re sure that if your roles were reversed, Gavin would think the same, you don’t ponder on the subject any longer. There’s no use in worrying about something you’ve already set your mind to.

And your intuition proves to be correct.

Upon arriving at the designated address, Eli immediately comments on how normal everything looks, and you can’t help but nod your head in agreement. It’s a small traditional style house that you stop in front of, yet to have signs of people inhabiting it other than the few candles to be seen behind some of the shaded windows -- too ordinary for a place that supposedly serves as a lockhouse for Black Swan

“...It doesn’t really look like anyone’s home.”

“Good. Let’s just hope the bastards have left so we can get in and out, then.” Eli says, squinting at one of the windows while noiselessly drawing his gun. “We don’t want to spend any more time here than we need to.”

Eli wastes no time after you hastily concur, very obviously ready to stay true to his words and making quick work of the lock. The entryway is small and homey, but it has an odd smell to it -- one that’s familiar, but not so much so that you can directly pinpoint it.

It sends an involuntary chill down your spine just thinking about it, though Eli says nothing about it, so you choose to do the same even if it’s difficult. He’s too busy surveying the area to notice your hesitance anyway, and you don’t blame him. If your sources are correct, Gavin is somewhere nearby. There’s no time to be distracted, no matter the circumstance.

With that in mind, you force all of the bad premonitions away and focus on the matter at hand -- and the fact that Eli is looking more sceptical with each passing second. It’s understandable, how his eyes flit around uneasily enough for the both of you combined, but you feel yourself getting impatient just watching him.

“Eli…” You mumble, elbowing him and giving him the liberty of pretending not to notice when he flinches. “Let’s start looking.”

His gaze falls to meet yours, and after a moment of thought, he nods. “Fine. Just stay close, okay?”

You don’t have any qualms with that.

Following Eli around as he checks each room is an unexpectedly stressful job, not knowing if Gavin lies beyond the doors until you get the chance to peek inside yourself. The call you’d received earlier burns hot in your memory each time you do so, the voice’s words of warning towards a so-called wind evolver damning.

It’s a scenario you don’t want to delve into, but is unfortunately a reality you have to be ready to accept.

It takes a few attempts to locate the right place, though it’s all-too easy in the long run; almost worryingly so. But even so, that doesn’t stop you from nudging Eli aside to see the scene better for yourself.

The smell you’d noticed at the entrance is potent here, and with a scrunch of your nose, you finally put a name to the hazy smell. It’s the same one you’d become acquainted with after spending so much time in the hospital months back, and while grotesque, it’s almost intimate in the way you remember it.

Narcotics; the pills and liquids you were given to ease your pain each day and night, hang in the dense air.

Tears fill your eyes as you make your way over to where Gavin sits abandoned against the wall, uncertain of where to start. Bruises litter his exceptionally pale skin almost to the point of disfigurement, and the parts of his hands that are visible from where you crouch down show the empty beds that used to hold his fingernails.

You’re afraid to touch him.

Eli comes up beside you, his hurried footsteps conveying the worry you both feel. But unlike you, he has little problem in taking action immediately, taking Gavin’s wrist and feeling for a pulse.

He doesn’t speak, but Eli’s expression tells you enough.

You take your leave quickly after, relaying Gavin to the nearest hospital and tearfully handing him off to the startled nurses. As you sit, Eli takes the opportunity to fill in the doctor assigned to Gavin, even showing his badge to stress the severity of the situation.

The entire ordeal takes days.

Life all but goes back to normal afterwards, your schedule ultimately flipping on its head with the man you love unconscious in the hospital. The rounds you make to visit him are constant enough that you even acquaint yourself with some of the nurses that frequent his room in the time you’re not at his side.

But even they are incapable of soothing your worries.

Gavin feels nothing but sparkling white pain. Whether it’s burning or freezing to the touch, he can’t tell, but it’s an awfully persistent sensation. It’s confusion personified, and like quicksand, he finds himself unwillingly drowning in it. It’s similar to the lights he sees when he first opens his eyes again -- washing everything out with little effort.

Gavin’s gaze adjusts to an unfamiliar ceiling in due time, and soon after, his ears catch up to pick up the faint sound of a beeping heart monitor. Copious amounts of his senses return to him at once, launching him into a coughing fit that makes him very abruptly aware of the warm presence at his side.

They call his name, though their voice is hardly distinguishable.

But, then they reach out and cup his cheek, delicately rubbing their thumb over the shallow cut that lies there. The intimate touch is unmistakable from then on, the way it caresses his skin familiarly soothing him.

“___…”

Your name leaves his lips in a single pant, his eyes squeezing shut as his coughing suddenly begins to cease. You almost find yourself holding your breath as you look on at him, waiting for another sign of life.

And soon enough, his eyes begin to open again, slowly focusing on your face from where you lean beside him. Gavin’s lips turn up in a small smile, and he makes no attempt to hide the affection that oozes from his gaze.

“___.” He repeats your name, his emotions stretching out control as tears come to his eyes. A thousand things flash through them at once, baring both things you expect and things you don’t.

“...Are you okay?” You ask hesitantly, your hand shifting to cup the side of his head as you study his expression. “Does something hurt?”

Gavin only smiles in response, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as his body shakes silently. You stare at him for a moment, at a slight loss of what to do when you realise you can’t distinguish whether he’s laughing or crying.

“I’m so sorry, ___.”

You don’t understand.

“What?” Your brows furrow as tears begin to prick at your eyes yet again. “What are you apologising for? None of this is your fault..”

Gavin shakes his head, inadvertently cutting you off.

He lets his hand fall back down to his side, allowing you to see his puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You can only stare at him as he continues to avert his eyes, ultimately surprised at his uncharacteristic outburst.

“I thought limiting our contact would help keep you safe.” He weeps quietly, his cheeks flushing from what you assume is a healthy mix of embarrassment and emotion. “But I caused us both so much pain. Every day I was held back by the possibility of messing everything up and never being able to see you again…”

Your heart flutters and drops all in the same motion.

I was right after all?

The memories recall moments stretching back to months ago, to all the moments you spent doubting that everything was really done; that you were really expected to move on like nothing was wrong. But hearing that your suffering wasn’t in vain somehow makes it seem like it was all worth it in the most twisted way.

“But look at you,” You interject softly, releasing a stagnated breath as Gavin looks on at you. “You’re here, next to me, and Gavin -- I won’t leave you. You won’t mess up, and everything will be fine..”

Your words fall out little by little as your eyes well with tears, but every single one is wiped away by the hand of the man in front of you.

Your reach up and place your hand over his. “I promise.”

Things are not all well, and little is fixed when you leave the hospital for the night. But somehow, you still feel like it’s just enough.

Gavin arises hours later feeling like his body is full of lead, unable to even open his eyes enough to focus on the dull light of the setting sun. But it’s with that alone does he realise that you’re no longer asleep next to him.

It makes him anxious in his delirium to think about how you’re probably home well by now, doing a face mask and scrolling casually through social media despite the unceremonious hour. You’re in the perfect spot for someone to take advantage of, namely referring to the Black Swan officers he’d recently become acquainted with.

But you’re blissfully unaware of his worries, making your way back home without an inkling of similar emotions in you. If anything, after months of your future appearing gray and blurry, the unexpected clarity of the situation eases something in you.

It’s a relief how lucky you’ve been.

Gavin’s thoughts go to the same concept as he pulls the thick hospital blanket off of himself, lips twisting into a thin line. It’s a miracle you’ve both managed to get so far -- and luck, unfortunately, only stretches so far.

It’s easy to get his original set of clothes back from the nurse, who seemed weak in the knees from the moment he approached her. The shirt smells distinctly of bleach, though his head feeds him the putrid scent of his own old blood regardless of how well it had been scrubbed out.

Getting out is the harder part. While the on duty nurse had been kind enough to slip things like his phone and badge back into his pocket, it was hell convincing the receptionist to let him check out even when he opted to show them his badge. Though eventually, with his name and number written down haphazardly on a loose scrap of paper, he’s given tight permission to leave temporarily.

The night air sends a chill down Gavin’s spine, and the quick change in temperature has the bandages covering his body sticking awkwardly to his skin. He tries to alleviate the discomfort, but the air currents feel odd in the way they swirl around him, somehow unfamiliar in the few days he’d spent locked away.

Though he shakes this away, writing it off just as he has hundreds of times before.

It’s harder than he expects to fly the short distance to your apartment. His healing wounds give way to a slight headache that only interferes more with the air around him. When he drops himself on your balcony, he practically has to lean over to catch his breath.

Gavin’s brows twine delicately together as he clears his throat a final time, straightening up and making sure there’s no sign of his trouble before knocking on the glass.

He smiles when he notices you padding over in your slippers through the sheer curtain. You seem casual enough that it lets him release a breath, relieved that his worries were for nothing. But then you suddenly open the door, catching him off guard once again.

“Gavin?” You’re rightfully shocked at his sudden appearance, the moonlight lining his quickly drooping figure in silver. “Why are you here instead of the hospital?”

He sighs gingerly, averting his eyes with a sheepish smile.

“I… was worried about you.”

You purse your lips lightly, your eyes going up and down his injured body. It’s hard not to notice the way he stands unevenly, no doubt to hide his limp and alleviate the pain in his torso -- but that much shows in just the way he slouches.

As if on cue, Gavin fumbles, letting himself come down into your waiting arms. His breathing is hard in your ear as you stroke the back of his head, cutting down a bubbling sigh in your throat.

Of course he came to check on me.

“You can barely stand, Gav. What were you thinking coming all the way here?” You lean back to see his tired face and chatsey him gently. “You need more time.”

“I was worried about you, ___.” He reaches up hesitantly to stroke your cheek with his thumb, silencing you for a split second as you watch him.

Gavin’s voice is raspy, showing not only his fatigue but also the pain he tries so hard to hide. “Can you allow me that much?”

You pull your lips into a line and look over his face. His eyes search yours simultaneously, but for what, you aren’t sure -- a sign of forgiveness? Leniency? You only know that whatever he wants to find, he probably won’t.

“Why would you be worried about me?” You ask, brows coming together in a delicate sign of frustration. “You were on the verge of death only days ago!”

He lets his hand fall from your cheek as he exhales. “I know. But your name is passed around a lot when it comes to the black swan officers. This time was no different.”

You don’t respond.

Gavin takes your silence as an opportunity to continue. “So, I decided that after my evol leveled out, I would come and check on you. Just to be sure.”

“But what I don’t get, is why you couldn’t wait?” You say, your eyes narrowing slightly as his ajar mouth closes slowly. “You’re nowhere close to being healed. And if you were that worried, I’m sure Eli or someone would’ve--”

He interjects, his eyes darting away. But you don’t miss the way they soften. “Because I owe you this much, ___. I hope you can understand what I mean.”

You do. The things he had said when he first woke up in the hospital, about the situation and the pressure he hoped to alleviate, it all connects back to where you stand now. So, as much as you hate to admit it, Gavin isn’t completely in the wrong for coming.

You nod, sighing in renouncement.

“Yeah. Yeah, Gavin, I do understand. Sorry.” You say it a bit reluctantly, your eyes shifting down until Gavin catches your face in his hands again.

His lips turn up in a small but attractive smile as he nods. “Hey, don’t apologise for being concerned. I love you for caring.”

You could almost swear that you’re hearing things, but looking up into his eyes, you know you aren’t. Your eyes narrow again, but this time in a more goading manner.

“What’s that?” You hum quietly, smiling up at him as the distance between you slowly begins to close.

Gavin gives you the charming smile you missed, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I’ll say it as many times as you want, as log as you never forget it.”

The kiss is soft and slow at first -- as meaningful as it should be, but it steadily transitions into what you’ve been holding back since the moment you met eyes again. His hand shifts languidly to cradle the back of your head, augmenting the already rising feeling in your chest.

His hands mould to you as time drags by, seemingly slowing down in your interaction alone. It makes you happy knowing that some semblance of your buried attraction is still eager to pop out again.

Everything passes by quickly after that point, to the moment you’re standing inside again, pulling away from him.

“Gavin, it’s late, you need to rest.”

He looks at you with a boyish glint in his eyes, his lips twisting slightly.

“Let’s stay up later.”

You step aside to pull back the covers on your bed for him. “But it’s sleep! You know, that thing you need to function--?”

He cuts you off by pulling you back up for another kiss, laughing with you as you ultimately decide to return his affection. But, then he catches you by surprise and lifts you into his arms.

“Ok!” You squeal in delight as you’re dropped right down onto your open bedsheets, your hair splaying messily around you. “Five minutes, that’s all!”

“Ten!”

The worst day of loving someone is the day that you lose them. But, one of the best is when you earn them back.

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