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saint-siren · 5 months

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A World For Her Alone | Ptolemaea

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

cw (chapter specific): pregnancy, childbirth, dubcon, death, the aftermath of severe abuse, slavery, derealization (?), the general ennui of noble marriage

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: Men! Don't they always think of "the one that got away"?

author's note: Girlfail Barbie and Catholic guilt ken or whatever the kids are saying idk.

When he returned to life again, he was haunted by a fervor to change things. He was a desperate animal caught in a trap, biting his own limb in a bid to escape. He’d languished too long in the inevitable misery that befell him again and again and again. This time, he told himself again, it would be different. He considered readying a horse to come and warn you about this thing that had overtaken him but there were obvious flaws in the plan such as; what if he saw Diana and was besotted again before he had the chance to tell you everything? Even if he succeeded what was he to say to you? What would you be able to do that you had not already attempted? How could you break this hold? What would your knowledge of his predicament mean against something that felt so primordial, something that compelled him to kill you?

What measure could be taken to change this? The last few minutes before he would have to bring himself to truly live this life, he spent at his desk, resigned to writing a missive.

For some reason, this life’s distinctions were more prominent. Firstly, it felt like reality was itself melting, sliding off its center to be remolded around him in the blink of an eye like candle wax. There were times where he forgot that his body wasn’t his own, that he identified with that darkness that puppeteered his body with grotesque ease. Things in that life had an unreal quality to them as if a fever dream he’d soon wake from. The horror of this life was softer, it was brighter, sweeter. He no longer begged for mercy, he only phased into the void that had become him deeper and deeper until he could no longer claim the pain he experienced as his own. He fell in love with Diana again, everything was wrong but he gave himself to the faltering, glitching reality that provided his distraction.

Had he only imagined it or had you become close with your sister in this life? It was unthinkable to him that you would, remembering all the pain she had caused you, still seem to love and look after her. It was a gesture that horrified him, the depths of your magnanimity, your forgiveness were hard for him to handle. Where was the rage you were due? Where was the lady he’d known before? Where had that livid and mournful glint in your eyes, like the silver pommel of the kitchen knife he’d nearly stabbed you with, that had appeared the life after your daughter had been born? Its sudden disappearance was an omen, he was convinced. Now, your eyes were soft as a saint’s, it was a sweet look of righteous suffering. Yours was the look of a martyr.

He was too late to save you, that look told him as much. You were a woman going to into the flame, worn and deprived of her fight; of the vicious urge for retribution. You were the dregs of a woman, bent to the shape of the realities you’d inhabited. Bent partial to Diana. This peace between sisters had come at a cost he would only live to know in your next life.

You tutored Diana, persistently, pushing her to learn more always. You two spent a great deal at each other’s sides and Claude was aware that even though in previous lives, you’d suffered criticism for not being close enough with your sister; now you were seen as an overbearing older sister pushing her poor, helpless little sister to always do more. He could not really grasp at reality strong enough to muster more outrage at the world which now seemed to be a mindless chorus, for their hypocrisy. Curiously, though, his greater self was pleased at your conduct and ignored the slanderous chatter. The darkness was sated by your concern for your sister and it thanked you by not making efforts to exclude you, he was still flirting with Diana quite openly, to be sure, but it was much less careless. It felt more as if the two of them were not hiding, not rebelliously defying, but expressing themselves easily before you, knowing that your bite had gone soft, your eyes like that of the rest of their world; understanding how important Diana was.

As the date of your wedding approached, something bad was going to happen. He felt it or perhaps he heard it whispered in the static of a reality which was falling down on top of him all the time. It sat in the pit of his stomach, an anxious ache that never soothed, a wound he could feel festering even when the rush of love for Diana flooded his careworn mind.

Days before your wedding, he was informed that you’d run away. A strange sort of grief did come over him by way of his false heart, his greater self almost seemed to mourn you. To him, and the distinction between his two selves in that moment had never been clearer, it felt as though you’d betrayed him. You’d made him care for you, if only in the slightest and most shallow way possible and then you vanished. You promised to marry him, to make a good wife to him, marchioness to his people and mother to his children. You smiled in his face each time you met and spoke to him with clear affection but you abandoned the future the two of you had painstakingly prepared with years of effort. Like he was nothing. Like the unspoken understanding, the ease that had been built was nothing at all. It disoriented this vast, arrogant creature, it felt to this monstrous part of him like trickery, like deprivation.

His true self knew that this was not the bad thing he’d anticipated. If it were, the seed of anxiety planted in his mind would have finally given way to the deeper misery he knew was to follow and set him free of his fearful, agonizing waiting. But he was still wound tightly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You running away from him was not the bad thing; what fate would make you pay for it, was. He had seen this part before, he knew it ended in blood. So he hoped, at least, you got to run quite far before it did. Before reality closed around its status quo again.

Out of obligation and the longtime investment made from his family to yours, he needed to marry a lady of your house. Since you were gone, it fell to Diana to fulfill this duty. This life, Diana had been educated suitably enough to be a marchioness, for theirs not to be an ill-fated marriage for the territory. Claude realized that this must have been by design, it was your insistent effort that led to her being educated so efficiently. He’d heard talk of you seeming to bully her with how much you pushed her to learn. This was your design. You had always planned to run and leave the two of them to what the fates clearly wanted to happen. Although it was an ache in his chest that you were gone, the more pressing feeling was a forlorn emptiness at the fact that he knew how it would end and he could do nothing to stop it.

On the day he married Diana, it was bright and cloudless, surely indicative of the sort of marriage he was to have with her. Her cheeks were flushed with the enduring surprise of being able to marry him but also with surpassing happiness. But did he only hallucinate a crow flying swiftly across the pale morning sky, casting a shadow on them briefly? He could not know. He retained little of his wedding to Diana. After all, it was a frightening thing, this end. This thing he’d been fighting for so long had caught up to him, it had won, or it would in time. It felt like he was further trapped in a labyrinth where before he could at least the see the sky above, now he was completely hidden in the belly of the beast with no end in sight. Everything was Diana. Everything always would be.

The defiling of his will and dignity would be ritual, it would dutiful and nightly. It would loving and soft. It would give him the very precious heirs his people counted on him to provide. It would make a mother of Diana, something she had so desperately wanted as he recalled. In time, he was sure to soften to the ordeal, his despair would only be monotonous, dull, unable to rip open any wounds due to the scar tissue of all his lives prior. This was marriage, he kept telling himself. This was marriage.

Even so, a peculiar thing did happen: Claude had a group of his knights search for you for as long as fiscally reasonable. For two years, he had his knights span out following possible traces of your existence. It was not his own will, his own words that left his mouth but it was so different from everything this thing that puppeteered him had done before. It had showed you sparse concern even when it was in regards to his heir, the thing that should have come before anything. But now, he found that he demanded his knights search for your whereabouts with ease long after your family gave up the pretense. He did so not out of a fervent desire for revenge, the fury of one who had been robbed of something, it was done out of a sort of grief. A sort of desperation to hold to a woman who disappeared into thin air, to reach through the distance and claim the answers you denied.

Claude’s marriage to Diana in the meantime, was not as he imagined the fates would have it be. Of course there was love and affection, of course there was even a constructed desire within him and of course he suffered it inwardly. But there was something that haunted both of them too, a ghost slipped between them always. A ghost who functioned like a scary story for children, whose name being spoken accidentally was just enough to breathe life back into her, just enough to allow her to haunt them. At first, Diana told him that perhaps you had someone you ran away to be with and even his body in the cold hands of his greater self, rejected the notion. He wondered what could ever have given her such an idea, that a woman so meek and truly devoted would have been having an affair. Even that time you left with your knight he didn’t truly believe there was anything between you, it was a desperate measure to escape just like this time. He almost seemed to recoil from her when she spoke of it, it was nothing more than a subtle shift in the air, in his expression but for the first time, Diana seemed to have noticed it even if she did not acknowledge it with words. The message was clear from his expression, the change in tone and the sudden tepidness between them; your escape was to be a sore subject.

It changed the dynamic between them a bit but being married had also done that well enough. Diana was a marchioness who had a certain countenance to keep up, work to do and places to go. She was no longer the vulnerable, tender, helplessly ill girl who begged him to be her reason for continuing on. She now had purpose of her own. None of this displeased his greater self too severely but it did change things between them. No longer were they truly knight and princess. They lived in the real world now as Marquis and Marchioness. It was not like it was with you but it was…changed. A sense of duty settled within her, he got the feeling. She walked with her head higher, her emotions that were once vibrant and expressive on her face were dimmed to a polite mask of a half smile. It was bizarre to see her so grown up.

The ritual degrading practice of lovingly bedding the wife who shouldn’t have been his, seemed to have an odd effect on him this time around. Where before he was able to separate himself, he felt this time he fell deeper into the reality of his situation the longer he was married to Diana. Each time he lay back onto the bed, skin tacky with both their sweat, he was able to physically feel the horror that came with the long line of years that would stretch out between them. Each time he returned to reality enough to feel the result of having just been inside her, he was hit with dread as if time could never dull it. Where before he could only consider the implications of the freshly committed betrayal of you and of his own mind, now he could see a greater picture being painted. This was to be his life from then on, laying back onto his side of the bed with a relieved sigh and cuddling her close speaking of children to be born. While inside, he ceaselessly clawed at the walls, a mad prisoner no longer considering freedom an option, desiring death.

And in those moments, he also thought of you. He thought of where you’d gone. A long time had passed and a long time would pass before you’d see him again. He wondered whether you were living happily somewhere, could it be? Could it really not be that you were somewhere happily living even if just until the blade swinging deftly above your head finally fell? He was the most desperate of men and he imagined it as if a fairytale, a lullaby to take him into a fitful sleep before he would wake and live a life circling around the very tarnishment of both your souls.

At some point he had slipped somewhere. His manner with Diana, although loving to be sure, was whetted to a slight sharpness. It was a strange nuance that he had only realized after years of marriage passed by with him gone inward to your memory. A chill had come to the marquisate that no fire would warm. It started in a small way, in your name slipping out every so often when he spoke of Diana whilst she was not in his presence. It was forgivable, no one spoke ill. But…it progressed to thoughts of you that were shared with his greater mind. A peculiar thing that shook him free of the derealization that came with this sort of monotony in misery. He realized that his thoughts came in one stream, instead of parallel and distinctive. He realized that above his own heart aching, the one that beat for Diana stung for…for something he had once and now could have no more.

Diana seemed to know. Your ghost was no longer benign, you were an active member of the household. Everyday, at some point as he and Diana spoke, he got the sense that she wanted to broach a topic but couldn’t, out of some fear that even speaking of it would harden it to truth. Some insecurity she desperately wanted him to soothe was instead locked away, tamed in fear that it could only be confirmed. It was as if mentioning you at all was a taboo. Claude parsed the difference between this Diana and the ones who came before when he was about the enter the library but heard voices.

“Madame, is it really okay to leave things like this?,” sounded the voice of one of Diana’s servants. The woman had a habit of forming such inappropriate bonds, the two became friends when Diana entered the marquisate as its new mistress. She would have known such a friendship would be unseemly but even so, it was hard for a woman such as Diana to live as a marchioness, beneath a mask as all noblewomen did, without someone she needn’t bother using it with. Claude had not been able to deny her that much.

Claude had paused in the hall when he heard the voice of Diana. He knew why he’d done so, for once, his minds were in tentative agreement. He had come there to think, to be alone with your memory. That day was the anniversary of your disappearance and he wanted to ask the definitive question again and again, until he could put it to rest for the next time. Diana could not be there for his mourning, he did not want her there, more than that. His still heart did love Diana very much, such had not changed, but this time, you were not so easily forgotten. A stain on his heart that should not be there…he knew his wife would see it in his demeanor, his brooding expression and no matter how many times she’d tried to ignore the poignance of the date, it always revealed itself to be stark and imposing.

Diana replied to the servant in a rather genuine tone, “He is a wonderful husband. He has done nothing worthy of reproach.”

Something kept him listening, he could not parse what because his greater self was too busy considering the words that had been, were being and would be spoken between the two women.

“It is…unseemly, for a married man to cling so much to a memory.” The maid sounded as if she wanted to use a word more derogatory than just “unseemly,”

“It cannot be helped,” Diana sighed. “She was his fiancee for much of his life, of course he is still devastated, compared to how long they’ve known each other, the wound is still fresh.”

“Even so, he has you, Madame. Why does he sulk and think of a woman who left him, ran out on him days before their wedding when he has a woman who has loved him faithfully?”

“Don��t ever speak that way, Maude. She is my sister, she is not some random noble you can insult carelessly,” Diana said, with as much sharpness as her voice could carry. “In any case…it is not so simple.”

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn but I fail to understand why it is not simple.”

“It cannot be simple. He is grieving. He and I wed so soon after, before he was able to gather his bearings, even. He may love me more than he ever loved my sister but it is still a loss of something I cannot replace. Who I am as his wife is entwined with that grief as a matter of course, it is simply the star our marriage fell under.”

“Have you ever considered confronting the lord, Madame? Forgive me again for saying so, but I just…after what you found, I don’t believe this is as it seems.”

He could hear the weak smile in Diana’s voice, the suddenly infused lightheartedness. “Oh, I could never do that. Then he’d known I was poking my nose where I shouldn’t have been and even so, I still don’t completely understand what it could mean. Whether a confession or something else, I don’t understand what his intentions were. I…I’m comfortable with never understanding if it means I never have the chance of finding a more unsettling thought beneath.”

“Madame…,” The maid’s voice sounded helpless and full of pity which struck an odd chord within him. A hatefulness unearned, small and weak to be sure but definitely present. At the same time, his heart sunk. He knew all at once exactly what she’d found, what gave her this wariness aside from his small actions. A fractured piece of reality appeared again as if it had never been missing, with the seamlessness of a dream. The letter…it seemed worlds away, it genuinely shocked him to hear what he thought was a reference to it. It hit him as if he’d heard her casually mention she’d been killed a few times over. And there was that pinprick of anger toward her for even knowing about such a thing, from both parts of him for different reasons. For telling her maid and garnering pity that should by rights go to the lost sister whose family had not even looked for her for longer than a month. In his greater self’s mind, for tainting the relief he was capable of feeling when he looked to her even more than it already had been with this. He could not even remember what he’d said but he knew it was something she should not know, it felt so viscerally wrong for her to have read words meant for your eyes. And undoubtedly, though he knew not what words he wrote, he cursed his love her in some manner.

But he took a deep breath and walked away before she could find him eavesdropping and bring it up to him. Something had….changed, he felt. Irreparably so. There was a certain synchrony between his two selves in a way there had never been before and something between he and Diana had shifted because of it. More noticeably this time, there was distance.

Diana found that she was pregnant with their first child soon after and there was as much apprehension in him as there was joy. Reality glitched all the time for him during the pregnancy, memories of you, of her, of previous lives intruded on his senses. Something about her being with child frightened him. His vision was often intercut with visions of the past, of your body, slowly seeping blood and still warm while the wails of your daughter fell on deaf ears. He heard Diana’s anguished crying, giving birth to a son who wasn’t certain to live. This foreboding and regret did not extend to his greater self who found other reasons to feel a note of fear at the thought of having a child with Diana. There was a desperation in that part of him, to make things right again, to make them what they’d been before when they were only illicit, courtly lovers. And even still, he knew it would not be. He could pray as much as he liked, he knew that for however loved and wanting this child would be, he would still be reminded of a future he’d lost with you.

Why was he still so concerned about you when you were not the woman he loved? He could not shut the door on your memory not matter how much he wanted to. Was it as Diana said? Was it because he’d known you so longer? He couldn’t think so. It was not like him to be sentimental because of time. Perhaps, he thought, it could be because of how you behaved in the year before you ran away. You treated Diana with a special kindness, you turned a blind eye to the obvious love between them and you ran away just short of your own wedding knowing that she’d…she’d had to marry him in your stead…You had done it on purpose. You had primed her to wed him, you knew what they had and you made it possible by abandoning your whole life. That revelation filled him with some unknown mixture of feelings that he could not stand. It was always to be a thorn in his heart, he would always remember who he owed this life to. And how could he be happy with that as he should be? How could he be happy not knowing why you allowed it to be and where you had gone now? How could you grant such an act of selflessness and disappear? You clearly didn’t want to be found. Why?

The more he thought of you, the more ennui he felt with his life with Diana. Their marriage was haunted by the shadow of your sacrifice. The day his child was born, a daughter, it was a night just like the one where your parents informed him you’d run away. Again his apprehension surpassed his joy when Diana went into labor, he’d paced anxiously outside in the hall listening to her sounds of pain while he looked out the window at the moon which hung in the sky like a being in its own right, watching him apathetically. He tried to get your memory out of his system before his daughter came into the world. He just…he just wished for that moment to be theirs alone. When their daughter was born, healthy and crying loudly from the terrible newness of the world, Diana held her to her chest, crying soft tears of her own at the newness of motherhood. Although his happiness was great, it was edged in something that could not be ignored, something which he felt tainted the moment in some way. He thought again on the night you disappeared and again asked himself where you could be, what you could be doing, did you have children of your own now? Somehow, he hoped you did. It would hurt him badly to know you had children with another man, love or no love between he and you, but he still wanted you to have that much. But that wasn’t the thought that truly cemented the fact that he and Diana would never have a moment that belonged to them again. It was actually the fact that when he first set eyes on his daughter, he looked for your face in hers.

He was glad Diana had been looking down at their daughter at that moment, perhaps if she’d looked up just then, she’d have caught a glimpse of that yearning in his eyes. He cried and thanked her for giving him a child, making him a father and it was genuine gratitude but the tears, the tears were for what was lost and what was left of you which endured. And inside, he dwelled in anguish because what remained of his true self was further broken, disillusioned by the fact that this child that he so pitifully wanted to avoid, had been born. She would live, her name written in his family registry, raised with careful hands and more love than most. She would live well and your child, he one who knew she’d lost you and had the only sensible reaction to it, her name was yet unknown.

As the years passed, Claude and Diana settled into life as parents. He realized that what Diana expected of him as a father simply didn’t come naturally, he was not an overtly affectionate person in general for anyone but Diana. This did not compute to her, and of course it didn’t, with her having your parents excessive favor and then with the underlying hair thin cracks in their marriage. She required his gestures to be grander, she required more assurance of his love. So, he got more comfortable with it for her sake, he made his affection more theatrical for her, though it felt more like wearing a different mask more than it felt like actually changing who he was. He didn’t exactly know how to be a father, his own wasn’t much of an example, he felt awkward and clumsy with it on his own but he knew how to emulate with the best of them. As was necessary for life as an aristocrat. This had the inadvertent effect of raising his daughter feeling less personal, less of a bond. It felt more like everything else in his life as a nobleman did, false and procedural. And there was the fact that both his selves were reminded of you when they looked at her, inevitably, even if only for a split second each time. One side reminded of what once was and one side reminded of what could have been.

Luckily, the child was much like her mother and did not comprehend the difference. She was young yet, and still he feared she would not go to him, that she’d cry and fuss in his arms, rejecting him instinctively. Sometimes, Claude felt worried that one day when she was older, she’d look to him for comfort, so he would put forth his best image but she’d see something in him that would tell her how false he was. But it never happened, the child slept easy in his arms and though Diana pouted a bit, she was amused her daughter was a daddy’s girl just as she was. Everything was alright, especially compared to some very frigid noble marriages he’d hear gossip about before. It seemed that the two of them had reached a mutual, unspoken agreement. They’d never talk about what they lacked, they’d take consolation in what they had managed to keep even if it wasn’t what it used to be.

They went on like that. The time passed quickly, reality seemed to melt, not with hard glitches but the lines blurred together. It got to the point where he felt that the date of your disappearance was not years past but minutes ago. He felt as though he were in the night trailing after you, shouting your name just as much as he felt like an ordinary father with the wife he coveted for so long. His body vibrated with a dull hum and at night when he laid beside Diana to sleep, lights flashed beneath his eyelids as if a candle were lit before him. He would come home and hold his daughter in his arms and still feel as though his breath would come out in a puff from the cold, feel as though something had only just been taken. Every so often the child he held felt foreign to him. He could not even recognize which side of him the feeling belonged to, he was not sure it mattered now. Perhaps this was the real end. Maybe you’d gotten away happily and it was his punishment this time to never feel what he should even when he had what he wanted. He could accept that much, he thought with more peace than he deserved in the delusion.

Of course it was when he accepted the idea of living without you that he came back. A messenger was sent, hesitant to relay the information that Felix and a few of his comrades had been tracking your whereabouts independently from the orders of your parents. You’d been found, barely alive, trapped in an establishment of very ill repute, worked as a slave.

This news was enough to devastate and selfishly relieve him. You were alive. You had been worked nearly to death. You were supposed to have lived well enough, perhaps a simple, rustic life as a merchant’s wife with children born of love always at your skirts. “Will she live?” His voice broke.

The messenger shook his head. “We don’t know, my lord. We only know that the count and countess are receiving her soon.”

Claude almost didn’t bother telling Diana, rushing to find a servant to have a horse prepared so that he could ride there and see you for himself. Until he was met with Diana who entered the room, seeing her family’s sigil on the sleeve of the messenger and he had to tell her. Yes, that was right…It was Diana who’d lost more than he had when you left. Of course it was necessary to tell her first. Somehow, it disappointed him to not be able to see you alone. To know that inevitably, Diana would want to see you and she’d bring along their daughter whom she couldn’t be without. All manner of frenzied feelings were passing through his greater self but prominently, there was a distinct, selfish desire to see you again. A thought that perhaps it would fix everything that has been wrong with him since you ran away. And concurrently ran the sharp anguish of his inner self which had awakened from its comfortable misery. Again in this life, you had suffered for his sake. He could not seem to stop stealing your life again and again and again. What had been done to you? What had you suffered while he raised a child that wasn’t yours? Deprived of your status and kept as a slave; oh, the image his mind had painted from what he knew of such things from his knighthood was a grotesque one. You, who had already been stripped of everything several times over, deprived even of the safety in your noble status. The only thing that made being born to such a family as yours, tied to such a fate as his more bearable, that you’d not be subject to all the cruelties of the world, only the ones he could inflict.

Diana’s eyes grew large and clouded over as he told her what news had arrived. He stiffened at this, hypocritically suspicious of her concern. He felt a pinprick of annoyance at her, remembering now, the time she’d suggested you’d have been the type to run away with a lover. He felt the briefest urge to shame her, he hoped for a second that she’d remember it too as he had and be ashamed. It faded quickly and it stung but he couldn’t be bothered to scold himself for it. The more important issue at hand was your life. Diana spluttered, “My sister has been found? Where is she now?” She, perhaps not the most dutiful sister, did show at least this much love for you. In her eyes, he could see the resolve to see you again despite a slight troubled look in them. She was ready to go wherever you had. Claude’s careworn, lovesick heart softened some and instead of answering her, he simply called out to a passing servant to ready the carriage, for they were going to the manor of his in-laws right away.

Diana woke up their daughter from her nap and the three of them made their way your parents’ manor where they awaited your return after so many years. Your parents tried to take pains to greet him formally, to reach for their grandchild but he waved them off rudely. “Where is she?”

Your mother flinched, pulling away, embarrassed to have been snubbed so brashly by him. “She’s being brought here by the knights, they’ve not yet arrived but they should return shortly.”

Diana’s brow furrowed at her mother’s disposition. Something about the situation had apparently unsettled her but she said nothing in regards to it. Claude had the urge to tell her, “Look closely at the woman you know to be your mother, does she look worried at all about your sister? Look at your father, too. Does he seem as you imagine we would if we located the dying body of our daughter after she’d been missing nearly a decade?” He wanted her to see them as they were even if it were too late for it to matter. He wanted her to see who favored her, what sort of people loved her, a wretched murderer, a philanderer, a careless woman. He wanted her to wonder what it said about her that she’d be loved by them.

You arrived shortly as your parents probably prayed so that they’d not have to deal with more questions and the suspicious look in their only true daughter’s eyes, the disillusionment. Felix brought you up your old bedroom, he’d gone up to have the servants ready it for your arrival, overseeing their work anxiously to make sure it was made comfortable enough for a woman of an unknown level of severe illness and injury. Diana had wanted to follow him up to help but he’d, gently as he was capable of in such a situation, had her wait downstairs under some thin guise in relation to their daughter. He’d not wanted to be around them then, as the time grew nearer to seeing you again.

When Felix brought you upstairs, he stood at attention from the corner where he sat anxiously looking about your room. You had large bruises up and down your body, you were filthy with blood caked under your nails and on the side of your head clinging to brittle hair, you were bandaged here and there in haste. He made a small sound of anguish and surprise, for it was one thing to be told you were near death, another thing to see it, smell it, feel it radiate off of your body. You were decaying even as you drew breath. Felix’s gaze lifted to Claude unabashedly hateful for a moment as he realized he was in the room but quickly flickered back down to you. Claude pulled back the covers on the bed for Felix to set you down and called for the doctor in a voice that betrayed a stifled sob.

The doctor did as he could for you under the somber watch of Claude but even so, you remained unconscious. He didn’t leave your side, praying for you to open your eyes at least, even if just briefly. Even if just to damn him. Even if you were doomed as the doctor seemed to believe. He’d said you were almost certain to die, that it was a matter of making you comfortable, an offense which had gotten him a verbal lashing from Claude even though he knew it was most likely the truth. Diana hesitated to bring their daughter up the room, knowing your body’s fragile condition and the very apparent air of death that surrounded had already frightened her, she came to see you later when she put their daughter down.

She loomed over your body, trying to find somewhere to touch you, to let you know she was here with you but everywhere was marred and she drew her hand back with a horrified look from seeing you up close, teary eyed. A strange marriage of anger, pity and love did come over him when he saw that. He wanted her to leave him be with you, he wanted to condemn her for even wanting to see you when the reason you were dying was because you made a sacrifice for your sake. But how could he? They were both guilty of the same sin, same measure. Their union was only made possible through their selfish brandishing of their love so how could he turn his back on her so belatedly? How could he deny her for this when he’d been the one to gain the most from their union? For shame or for pride, she was his wife. They were too closely entwined for him to become a hypocrite just now. Though, that hardly meant he wanted to see her healthy, well and with their child while the woman who was deprived of everything lay dying.

He sent Diana from the room, again under the guise of their daughter, “assuring” her that he’d stay at your side all night. Diana’s expression shifted slightly, revealing a hint of the girl she used to be, unpolished and genuine, unable to help showing all her emotions on her face. She looked…wounded but he must have looked very devastated because when he turned to face her fully, her expression slackened slightly and she did not argue. She only sighed and said, “I hope you won’t make yourself ill doing that. I’ll be in my old room, send for me straight away if you feel tired or unwell at all. I love you.” She said her ‘I love you’ like a plea, like she was near begging for his reassurance again. But Claude was simply not in the frame of mind to be declaring his love her even as it still ruled him. He simply nodded at her and looked back at you. Diana stayed still for a few seconds, he felt her eyes on him, felt that he’d hurt her in his denial. Then, she left the room swiftly.

A day later, his whole body hurt, he had not slept and his mind had gone numb. He could no longer consider very much of the future, he waded through the past. “I wonder…” he began in a tone loud enough to hear through the door. “Are you still out there?”

Felix entered the room. He’d been guarding your door since you returned home. He had not left or giving up the task to another knight for long enough to sleep. He had stood there obstinately without saying a word as if he’d never stopped being your knight. “You called for me, My Lord?” His voice was flat and very hardly concealing a certain amount of disdain.

“You searched for my- for the lady independently, if I understand correctly.”

“Indeed,” Felix answered simply.

“Diana and I owe you our gratitude for doing so, for not giving up on her so easily.”

“Oh, I could not abide you being in debt to me, Lord Claude. All that I did, I did for the lady’s sake alone.” A clear message in that, Claude’s lips almost curled into a bitter smile.

“Very good. You may rest now, the lady is in no further danger.”

“I’m afraid I would hardly be a knight if I were only devoted to looking after her when I felt there were further dangers imminent, My Lord.”

“What is it that you’re concerned about? I am at her side, a knight in my own right. I will not leave her.”

Felix only smiled, a hateful, spiteful smile. “Nor will I, My Lord. I hope you understand.”

Oh, Claude understood. Both the voices inside did, in their own manner. An odd similarity had struck between them, as close as they ever had been to being as one. “Very well,” He sighed, unduly frustrated. “You may return.” He did not even know why he’d desired for Felix to leave so much. Was it that he wanted, even if only once, to be the man who put himself aside for you? Was it that Felix’s very existence condemned his own, with his above dutiful knightly devotion to you contrasting the easy manner in which Claude had been willing to trade you for Diana? He felt guilt when he heard that it was Felix who’d found you, who’d never stopped looking and then an ounce of envy. He knew it was arrogant but if there was nothing else he could do to make up for what had been done, he wanted to be the one who rescued you.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing there was no grand redemption for what had been done just as there was nothing that could ever fill the hole of your absence. He had left you to die as he wed the love of his life and made a very beloved child with her. He had taken your sacrifice into his hands easily and enjoyed a peaceful life because of it without even being able to imagine that you’d never get the same. His obliviousness to how you must have been seeing he and Diana, pushed you into thinking you needed to sacrifice for their sakes or else simply needed to escape a marriage to a man who loved your little sister. You were responsible for all that he had now. And what would he do if you never again opened your eyes? What would he do if you went to your grave thinking you meant so little to him that he’d not even done the smallest thing for you?

Fortunately, your condition had gotten slightly better by the next evening. You had brief bouts of consciousness after a long stretch of unresponsiveness. You had a fever and the doctor was doing all he could with his remedies to break it but it didn’t seem to be working. There was only so much that could be done with your body in such a condition. There was hardly anything that could be administered to you to rid you of any pain though the doctor mentioned there was a chance you weren’t feeling anything at all for you did not attempt to speak when you woke and slipped quite easily back out of consciousness. A prospect which was morbidly comforting. If you were to die, all the better for you to do so peacefully. But because the chance that you were indeed suffering from the high fever wreaking havoc on your body, he gently laid a cool cloth against your forehead.

Seconds later, your eyes opened, slowly blinking as your lips parted in an attempt to take air into your lungs more easily. He pulled his hand away as soon as he saw your eyes open, as if he’d been caught doing something unseemly. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you returned to consciousness, your eyes bleary and hollow. You gazed at him as if seeing past him, as if seeing the figments of him that had failed you before. The cowardly part of him that lay hidden behind worthless flesh wanted simply to tell you that…well, he didn’t actually know what he should say if he were given the chance. At one time, he imagined he’d tell you he loved you but what use was his love to you anymore? In every life he had loved and in every life someone bled for it. What comfort could it possibly bring? As much comfort as a curse which grows into you with time. The constance of misfortune and the certainty that it would become both of you, that was his love.

It hardly mattered what he wanted to say anyway. His was not the voice that left his lips, it was mimicry from a force that had grown oddly similar to him in this life. “I remember the day they told me you’d run away…all this time, I have thought of that day.” He did not flinch at the words that came from his lips, for once; the fever had probably made you too delirious to understand him.

“Every moment I had to myself, I asked why you left. Diana told me you probably had somebody. But somehow I didn’t believe that, to my perspective, you really weren’t like that. So why? Why did you leave and why did I look for you even after…” He paused, finding himself so overly emotional talking to a woman that couldn’t even hear him, who was probably in a waking dream more than in her old bedroom with her old fiancé. He must be a stranger to her now. So why was he pouring out the things he would not even confess to his wife as if you were responsible? As if you could answer to the melancholy he already knew very well the source of. His two selves still had the obvious rift between them even as his greater self morphed more into a pale approximation of what his true self used to be. They were two jagged shards of a vase knocked from your dining table. This unearthly force that had taken him over, which had control over him still, was a creature yet unknown to him. He would do well to remember that much.

“Even now I am denied the reason why.” Even so, he had spent too many lives with the greater voice inside that ran thousands of thoughts through his very being not to feel as though he understood something about it when it spoke through him then. “When I should have rejoiced, when I should have been glad, always, always, it was you, like an ghost in my periphery.”

“Now you’re back and it feels like the end,” He spoke the words prophetically, it was the end. You were dipping back into unconsciousness again. “This isn’t the way I’m supposed to feel,” He said, tucking your blanket up to your chin, sending you off for what he felt would be the final time. He felt it, he knew it. His chest welled up with that feeling again, the dread he felt the day you’d run away. This time, he wondered what would happen if he stayed here in the version of reality he’d grown accustomed to. Would it free you if he stayed in the version of the world which had what the greater self sought to carry out? If he gave in to a will greater than his own?

At some point during the night, your fever broke and when it did, he found himself freed. His body delivered back to him at a very strange point this time. Never had there been a moment where you’d been alive that he’d also been able to speak freely. It felt like an anomaly, a shared fever dream or the view of earth from his first life the day before he met Diana. In any case, he didn’t feel very much about his own autonomy being returned to him, time enough to consider it later and the rest of his life to mourn. That morning, all he wanted to do was stay at your side, as himself through and through. He knew you were not on the same earthly plane as he was anymore even if you were not yet dead. You would not hear what he’d say, nor see what he’d do or feel his presence. Even so, he took your hand in his and he spoke.

“I have loved you for each and every one of our lives. I am sorry,” He drew in a breath. “Don’t forgive me. I will always be sorry. I am sorry for whatever this is, this part of myself so sharply cleaved out of me every time that I cannot stop killing you. I know it means nothing but I have never spoken it and I must. If this is not the real end, in our next life, kill me yourself. It must end. It must end with my blood, how long can we– how long can we suffer this way? There must be something, there must be something…” His speech, intended to be cathartic in some way, broke off and descended into inarticulate blubbering, his tears dripping onto your hand. He could speak no more then. Could stand the sound of his voice begging the empty air no longer.

He stayed at your side until the very end. Until he could no longer feel your pulse, the beats of your heart slow and faint. He could swear he felt the moment of your death as deeply as he felt the reach of this primordial thing that seemed to take more of him than he could have imagined there was with each life.

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @gwyneveire

#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader

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imagionationstation · 1 year

Text

So here’s what went down…

Ah, yes.

The infamous “Splinter passes on the mantle of Sensei” scene.

Possibly the most misinterpreted scene in the history of 2012turtle scenes. (Perhaps I shall get to the others someday.)

I’ve always assumed that the verdict for this scene was the same for all, and I never knew people hated, or even disliked, Splinter for his choices in this until recently. And it has been eating away at me, because I don’t think ya’ll understand what’s going on here.

Maybe you do, but…

Can I point out exactly what I saw happen here?

Yeah?

Thanks. 🤎

1: Splinter is not sleeping and is ‘distant’, making Leo worried enough to inquire about his health. He’s clearly spending every second agonizing over what’s coming, and meditation is probably his only solace from the burden of his fears. (I do the same thing when I’m anxious. Distract and distance, it helps me feel a sense of- control, I guess.) 2: Splinter does not address Leo’s question. He’s already tried to tell Leo what was going on before this, and now he wants to focus on what he feels is important. His family. He immediately changes the subject (limping in a way that has me suddenly concerned because GUYS HE HURT AND OLD AND GOING TO FIGHT FOR HIS LIFE PLEASE NO-) and asks Leo why he made him leader. 3: Leo awkwardly repeats what he said, “Because I asked to be… You said it wasn’t because of my skills…” (THAT’S ONE INTENSE OF A WEIGHT TO CARRY IF YOU REALLY THINK ABOUT IT, THE HECK-) and Splinter corrects, “I said that only to temper your ego at the time. I knew even when you were a small boy, that you would one day grow up to be the leader of this team.” -Can I just add that he’s not saying this literally. He’s the cryptic, wise, know-it-all sensei. He’s not saying, “I planned to make you soldiers and for you to lead the fight”. He’s saying, “You have always been the one to teach, protect, and lead your brothers, and there was absolutely no one else as perfect for the job.”

Seriously. Lookit baby Leo guarding them while daddy’s away. 💙💙

4: And then he throws everyone watching through a loop: “And when I pass on, to be like a father as well.” And just like us, Leo’s got a whole lot of “EXCUSE ME, WHAT?!” going down.

5: But Splinter’s going stay his cryptic self by clearing no air. (Okay, but let’s think about WHY for a moment. We know our leader in blue by now. If Leo knew exactly what he knew, martyr instincts would kick in hard core, and he would do everything it takes to make sure their father survives. And Master Splinter isn’t going to sit here and let Leo go on a suicide quest. From his POV- He’s old. He’s lived his life. He can try to accept his own death. He will not accept Leo’s.)

6: Splinter imparts this saying that I love with everything in me. “Leonardo. If I can only impart one piece of wisdom that will remain with you forever…” (Ergo, Dude, this is Important. Pay attention to what Imma about to say) “Remember. Giving guidance to your brothers and friends does not come from here…”

“It comes from here…”

THIS IS DEEP, YO. IT SAYS SO MUCH AND IT’S SO SIMPLE-

And people are MAD AT HIM FOR THIS?!

Sorry, sorry- emotions. I’m breathing. I’m breeaaathing… Okay. Yes, I get the gist of the arguments. ‘Splinter made Leo head of the household and that was a terrible thing for him to do. Leo’s too young for that responsibility, he already has the weight of being leader on his shoulders, and that’s a burden his mourning heart can’t carry. It’s cruel for him to do such a thing.’

Or-

And-

@tmntforeverinmyheart and @stardustartist, everyone’s opinion is built off of observations, beliefs, and their own POV on events, and every opinion matters. Thank you for yours. 💚

Now onto mine-

I don’t know what this quote from Splinter means to you guys, but to me, it’s his way of trying to fix things!

I think he finally realized that he done messed up. He knows that he put Leo in a position of ‘I am leader, and mission always comes first’. He’s had plenty of time to see the damage he’s done, and he’s worried of what will come off his family if he doesn’t fix it.

Leo is too far into his head. He isn’t thinking with his heart- “what will happen to my family with me gone?”. He’s thinking with his head, “lives are at stake and I’m the leader- self sacrifice it is.”

Every mission, every step, every choice is a plan, and his life is simply a factor in it. A pawn to be thrown away to complete the important task. It doesn’t hold meaning because of what Splinter told him all the way back in season one, and his father is finally realizing it. (ABOUT FREAKING TIME-)

He’s not telling him “don’t think”.

He’s saying, “Think another way.”

I feel you, @sr200916. A friend of mine said this exact same thing, and I wholeheartedly agree. And here’s some depth into why.

Kids without parents attach themselves to role models. Mother figures, father figures- kids need to be guided, and led, and hugged, and need that one person who can say “it’s okay” and magically the world is a little less dark.

And they’re just. KIDS. They left the sewers three/four years ago! Everything is still so wide and new and confusing and there’s still so much they haven’t learned or experienced- they’re kids.

And yes. Leo is a kid too. But who else are they supposed to turn to?

Karai?

She’s not a parents. She’s gone from enemy, to somewhat friend, to sister-in-college-who-drops-by-sometimes. She’s living her own life. They aren’t going to see her as anything more than their equal. Much less look upon her as a guardian.

April and Casey?

Best friends/honorary siblings. They aren’t going to fit that role.

Mutanimals? Leatherhead? Bishop?

Friends. Equals. People that they trust. But not anyone that they’re immediately going to lean on as a guardian. They need someone who they already look up to and trust to lead and guide them. They need someone who already has their well-being as a number one priority. They need someone who they can feel comfortable going to talk to when he can’t be there to lend advice.

-And I know what some of you are still thinking. But what about Leo?! He’s just a kid too!

And, hey, I’m not arguing. He absolutely is, and in a perfect, fair world, he would continue to have an adult to teach and guide him- but their world is neither perfect nor fair.

All his life, he’s had two solid goals: Make sensei proud. Protect my brothers.

He’s seen as the most mature brother for a reason. He’s had to grow up in a world where finishing school and getting/keeping a job isn’t his main concern. For about three years, he’s spent every night making sure that his brothers stay alive. In fact, he starts doing it almost unconsciously- taking responsibility of his brothers and their missions without filling Splinter in, as shown in Annihilation: Earth! Part 1, when he’s laying out the plans, and Splinter straight up asks, “What is going on?” and Leo brushes him off, essentially just telling him that there’s trouble, but they have it covered.

Splinter is speechless for a moment, but then consents, telling Leo that he’ll be near the cheese phone if they need him.

This is a huge change if you really think about it, and done very subtley. They show us how their relationship has changed- Splinter no longer has the control to give the okay. Leo no longer feels like he needs Splinter guidance or permission. He’s grown up, and he’s leading with a firm hand, just as he was born to do.

And Leo also has experience raising his brothers- who do you think was acting sensei while they were in space?

Fugtoid was Donnie’s mentor, sure, but it was Leo who the brothers turned to when things got out of hand. It was Leo who had to talk sense into them, who always has the last word, who seemed on edge 24/7 as the season progressed, seeing the dangers space held and sending away his team when the evil space station was sent to go boom.

Whether fans like it or not, a leader, a sensei, is simply who Leo is.

There’s a reason he always gets heated and offended when he thinks his place is being challenged-

Leo thrives under that sense of control, and his brother thrive knowing that the control lies in someone else’s hands.

Now, with their father gone, it’ll lie in the hands of the brother that they trust with it most (whether Raph admits it or not) because he’s proven himself time and time again to be able to handle it.

Splinter isn’t stupid. He knows his boys. He knows exactly who Leo’s younger brothers are going to turn to after he’s gone for good this time, and he needs Leo to realize this too. Perhaps he hopes the burden will be easier to bear if it’s given slowly, instead of chucked out of nowhere.

Splinter was not purposefully ‘parentifying’ Leo. There’s a reason he waited so long. Maybe he was never going to say anything at all. Maybe he was struggling with the choice, and when Leo walked in to ask if he was okay, he made a last-minute decision.

Splinter knew it was going to happen. Leo was going to become head of the household, whether or not he said anything about it. It’s how their family dynamic always shapes out- there’s a reason the fans call Leo a mother hen!

It was always going to happen. So instead of standing by and letting fate play out, Splinter decided to interviene.

He wasn’t putting the burden on Leo’s shoulder. He was reassuring his son that he could handle it. He was giving advice on how to take care of his brothers. He was trying to help, not to hurt.

Obviously Leo is going to end up hurting. Obviously, it’s going to be hard. Obviously, it’s going to be a lot to adapt too. For Splinter’s sake- their father is going to die!

But his brothers will be there for him. He may be acting sensei, but we’re shown that they have his back. (Raph’s talk with Mikey on the rooftop is a very prominent piece of proof.)

Splinter knows that no one else can do the job better, and by voicing that he’s sensei, no one else should be able to take Leo’s family away from him. At the end of the day, as the eldest, he will be the one who bears the Hamato legacy (remember, Karai is busy shaping the Foot legacy anew), but unlike Yoshi, Leo will not be alone. He’ll have family and friends to back him up when things get difficult.

It’s a heavy title, but one that Leo is ready to carry.

Except… For one pretty major flaw. A flaw Splinter encouraged, and a flaw that he knows cannot stay.

The martyr complex.

That, is what I believe the “use your heart and not your head” phrase is meant to squash. And I believe with everything in me that it does. Leo’s life is no longer just a chess game. If this pawn doesn’t come home from a mission, his team suffers. His brothers suffer.

He is no pawn, and he can’t afford to see himself as one. He cannot afford to treat his life like it’s expendable. There’s more at stake then just the mission, and deep down in his heart, he knows that. He’s no longer just a leader. He is a father, and he has a family to live for.

And… Can I just add that Splinter’s not just up and abandoning him?

When Leo doesn’t know what to do next after his father is gone- Splinter is there. When it looks like he’s been defeated by the Shredder- Splinter is there. When they face their first real threat since his passing, and Leo is in the dojo struggling with what to do- Splinter is there.

“Leonardo, I know you feel the weight of leading your family, but remember, I am always with you.”

I mean- come on! Even in the afterlife, he’s looking over him!

He knows the burden on his son’s shoulders, and he’s come to help and warn to relieve it, if only a little.

Should he also have appeared to his others sons? ABSOLUTELY!

Could he…?

Well…

Don’t get me wrong- They’d have every right to be upset if they find out that Splinter appeared to Leo and not to them. But I’m sure there was a good reason- Leo mentions “meditating for weeks” after his father’s death at one point, so his spiritual strength, place in front of the altar, and need to speak to his father could have urged down “Mr. Higher Spiritual Plane”.

That’s why Donnie couldn’t see him when he walked in. This wasn’t a ghost doing his own thing, this was a spirit summoned down by Leo. When Donnie startled him, Leo lost concentration, and Splinter disappeared.

But, it’s still going to hurt, knowing he appeared to Leo and not them…

And should he have told his other sons that he was going to die?

….No. Just, no.

For one: He only hinted at the fact with Leo because he felt it was necessary to pass on certain information, to help him prepare for what’s coming. He didn’t give him specifics, no matter how much he begged.

If he told any of the brothers- Donnie would not rest until he pressed him for every ounce of information, Mikey would not have been able to handle the thought of something happening to Splinter, and Raph probably would have died that night on the rooftop trying to stop the prediction from becoming reality.

All of them would have wanted to stay with him after the warehouse fire, and I believe Splinter separated them for a reason.

As the youngest brothers, Donnie and Mikey needed to be shielded from memories that their analytical and photographic minds would not have been able to handle. It would have broken them to see their father die.

Leonardo would spent the rest of his days hating himself for being there and not preventing it. He’d drown in the guilt and fear- because if he couldn’t doing anything, how can he be certain that he’ll be able to keep his brothers safe? How can he be trusted with their lives when he couldn’t even save their father?

This way- Leo knows he’s been sent away, and he knows Splinter’s the reason that he couldn’t protect him. The blame isn’t as strong because he wasn’t there, and that was Splinter’s fault. It’s easier to manage when there’s another to pass on the blame.

Splinter didn’t let him protect him, and by doing so, protected Leo.

Now, Splinter’s sons would have put up a fuss or gotten suspicious if one of them didn’t go with him, so he made an educated choice.

Raphael is the strongest of the brothers. Out of all of them, he’s the most likely to mentally and physically survive the battle. He doesn’t let guilt swallow him like Leo does- he turns it into anger, and uses that anger to defend his family better next time. Out of all of them, Splinter hoped that Raph would be able to handle the memories, and the show basically tells us that he does- his maturity to accepting Leo as sensei was both shocking and relieving.

Now, I’m not saying every choice made here was inherently a good one. There’s a lot of choices made in Splinter’s life that are questionable- but every choice he makes is only in his sons’s best interest. At one point, Splinter was going to run the last of his clan. He was raised to prepare for war. His sensei could have groomed him with a leader mentality, and the notion to never put his life over the sake of his clan’s, since he was supposed to lead them one day.

He’s a single dad living in the sewers who doesn’t understand the internet and fears human contact- the only way he knows to raise his children are based off experiences with his own family, and his culture. Making Leo a martyr was a mistake, and he sees that now.

So to summarize:

No one was being made a parent. Leo is a verified mother hen, and he will lead. Period. It was always going to happen, and Splinter was trying to help lead the way. He probably would have given a lot more advice had his other children not interrupted.

Yes, he made a huge mistake years ago, but now he’s trying to fix that with a simply offering of advice. Follow your heart, not your mind, because at the end of the day, the heart will always lead you and your brothers home.

No, the entire family should not have known. They would have done everything in their power to stop what could not be prevented, and that could have gotten them killed. Splinter would never allow that. Their time was not up. They would not needlessly suffer because of him. Not his boys.

Just a side note: Taking care of his brothers might not be the worst thing for our mourning boy. Not only does it give him something to focus on, but, as an older sibling, I know it sometimes brings me comfort to comfort a young sibling. Maybe it’s some buried instinct in my being to keep them happy and healthy taking over, maybe it’s because I have a tiny bit of control in the moment, or maybe it’s a feeling of accomplishment that helps battle against the aching hurt eating away at me- but it helps. It really does.

It’s not like their infants, or little kids. His brother’s can fend for themselves, and they understand their place in the world much better than they did years ago. They can protect each other.

In reality, the only thing that will change is the hovering knowledge that someone is missing.

Holy chalupa, I just wrote an essay…

Back to the episode!

The rest of this isn’t too deep. So have some reactions:

“I don’t understand… You’re fine, father-”

🎶I can see what’s happenin’ here🎶

HE CALLED HIM DADDY IN A DOJO SETTING AFTER ASSURING HIM THAT HE WAS WELL!

POOR BABY BLUE KNOWS BUT IS STUCK IN DENIAL- 😭❤️‍🩹

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Leo, he is trying to tell you! And he could have! If not for literally MILLISECONDS after he asks, Mikey interrupting. Splinter might have clarified! He might have said more! Hinted how he knows! Said he was so proud! Given advice! Cleared the air! THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS-

Ah, these poor naive boys and their bad timing….

Okay, but like, how am I supposed to be annoyed at these faces. AND WHY IS RAPH OH-SO JOYOUSLY COPYING MIKEY- AND DONNIE WHAT IS THAT DEAD-EYED STARE- 🤣🤣🤣

YA’LL ARE MESSING UP MY EMOTIONS IN THIS FREAKING SCENE, YO

I’M TRYING TO BE SERIOUS IN THE MOMENT

BUT EVERY TIME THEY POP UP- 🤣

Okay, but is Splinter immediately taking the invitation to spend time with his sons because he knows that he doesn’t have much longer not the most wholesome thing ever?

He can’t continue this talk with the brothers present, and they’re clearly excited to go, so why not attend and make a few more bright memories before he’s gone?

Also, I deem it illegal for rock music to be this ominous-

I blame Leo for looking despondently after them and triggering bad things are about to happen emotions. Poor blue boi.

Anyway

Splinter is not a bad father. He is imperfect, but every choice he makes is for his sons’ good. They are his world. Their lives will come before his every time, even if that means giving heartbreaking advice before he has to be taken from them. He only wants what’s best for his family.

They are his sons. He is their papa.

And that’s all there is too it. 💚❤️💜💙🧡💚

I freaking love this show…

Thanks for reading!! I did my best to double-check everything that I wasn’t sure about, so that I could be as accurate as possible! Even if I didn’t change stubborn minds, I hope I gave you guys some things to think about!

Every opinion matters! Thanks for checking out mine!

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accursedkaleeshi · 1 month

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RIP General Grievous, you would have loved Order 66 lol

No, but for real. “Grievous survives” fic writers, you’re awesome.

Don't deny that he has committed atrocities upon the galaxy that will take generations to even begin to heal & in numbers unheard of in recent history. Grievous did not care. His job was to inconvenience the Republic for as long as possible & to kill Jedi. And holy shit did he ever. Maybe he considered himself already dead & this dumbass war was just a really fucked up bonus level. (& brother, I’m zerg rushing it)

Grievous was operating on the bastardized values of his people kept together by rage & steel, stuck in Sith 1 & Sith 2’s fucked up mind games. He hated the Separatists. Unfortunately for the rest of the galaxy, he hated the Republic more. Maybe he oscillates wildly between the thrill of battle & befuddled emptiness, making him a contrary bitch that no one bothers trying to deal with.

But lord help Palpatine if General Grievous ever figured out that he & Sidious were one & the same. The sheer amount of indignant rage would be like a lens of clarity he hadn’t managed since becoming a cyborg. This?? Single human man? Broke apart the galaxy so he could be the one to fix it? The known universe will remember me only in cold blooded fear. I was stripped of my culture, my agency, my FLESH so that this LITTLE OLD COLONY WIZARD can sit in his big boy chair???

Mr. Psycho Martyr? His petty ass would tell everybody. He would make his superiors’ lives a living hell. If they didn’t immediately push the Cyborg Emergency Kill Button (canon), how do you stop this pissed off war machine that YOU made to be unstoppable & YOU taught how to use unstoppable laser swords? As far as the Separatist resources, he knows nearly EVERYTHING. You can’t send shit after him that he doesn’t already know how to take apart, rewire, counter, & give back to you with a rude note on it.

And goddamn, if you thought Kalee hated the Republic? Just wait until it becomes the Empire & stops even trying to hide being tyrannical (hehe tyrannous). Grievous spent his entire life fighting oppression much more advanced than him & fucking winning. That’s why his resume was at the top of Palpatine’s murder machine CV pile. This bitch excels at adaptive guerilla warfare & he will use every last wheezing breath to fuck up your shit. Even if he has to work with Jedi to do it.

In conclusion, an enlightened General Grievous would gladly die for a chance to punch Palpatine in the face & this is why he would be an immense asset to the rebel alliance. He’d be an insufferable asshole but that is the cost you pay for him having to be right all the time.

#general grievous #sw tcw #sw headcanons #accursed!grievous

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thecosmicpunk · 3 months

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HIND RAJAB! SHE WAS 6 YEARS OLD!

#free palestine #palestine #gaza #ceasefire now #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #no one is free until we are all free #punk #solarpunk #Hind Rajab #Palestinians #palestine news #gaza strip #SHE WAS 6 YEARS OLD #remember the martyrs and fight for the living

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crismakesstuff · 7 months

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new invincible oc!

cele grayson aka celestial !

(they/he/she)

Cele was an artificially grown viltrumite that was apart of a secret project to help repopulate viltrum. They were the only baby that lived through the full gestational period and didn’t die after their birth. They were born august 6th, 1999

Cele was made by taking the DNA of a woman who had died during the scourge virus and of nolan grayson. It was done without his knowledge, he never knew about these experiments as they were only known about by the highest ranking viltrumites. The whole project being personally overseen by grand regent thragg who wanted to find a way to effectively create purebloods without having to mix them with other species.

They spent their early years constantly observed and studied. Days consisted of near endless experiments and exams. They were treated more like a lab rat than an actual person with all their actions under heavy supervision, monitored by thragg who was the only viltrumite they were allowed to interact with during this time. When their powers manifested at the age of 7 training immediately began. Personally taught by General Thula, they came to see her as a pseudo mother figure during this time.

At the age of 14 they were officially made a solider and allowed to go on missions with other viltrumites. At 19 they were put in charge of a planet that had anomalies that defied physics. After a year of being left mostly to themselves the stress finally began to eat away at them and their mental health took a sharp decline. One day during a visit from the generals a gravitational anomaly opened up a miniature black hole that seemed to only pull them in at first, later devouring the entire planet with her. The generals barely escaped and witnessed the entire thing believing cele to be dead.

Instead they were spat out into the multiverse from a white hole and spent the next few years surviving on their own and trying to learn how to use their new powers. When they suddenly were spat back out into their universe, they were instead in the Milky Way galaxy instead of the Andromeda galaxy. Remembering that the other viltrumites told him that their father was on earth they headed there.

Only to find out he had just left a few weeks prior after a huge fight with his son, mark. Now they have to adjust to life on earth while they hide from the empire out of fear of being found.

Themes:

With Cele i wanted to really explore the idea of “What you were made for vs. What you want to be”. As well as the trauma that came with their upbringing and them coming to terms with the lack of self worth they tend to feel and the martyr complex he develops from this trauma too.

Another major theme is the “found family” trope. Cele from a young age has always looked for parental figures and people they can feel close too since they were little but their first pseudo parents (thragg, thula) barely treated them as a true person with autonomy. When she comes to earth and meets mark and debbie they begin to really learn what a family should be. This gives them the courage to begin making friends on earth and letting people into their lives.

Powers

Viltrumite Abilities

Superhuman Strength: Cele has strength of a well trained viltrumite of their age allowing them to perform extreme feats. (One such example was when they held up the upper half of a mountain by themselves on earth during a major disaster. Scientists calculate the mass held and then placed back was anywhere from 200-400 tones)

Superhuman Speed: Cele can move at extreme speeds both on foot and in the air. Allowing him to travel around any space with extreme ease. They can fly from the earths surface to the moon in a matter of minutes. They also are capable of traveling through space on their own.

Superhuman Stamina: Due to her smart atoms Cele’s body rarely tires and is capable of physical exertion for long periods of time without becoming fatigued.

Superhuman Durability: Cele’s tissues are extremely durable to the point of almost invulnerability. While they can be damaged by other viltrumites or beings stronger than her they can withstand damage that would vaporize and easily kill a normal human. Able to withstand falling from a planet’s atmosphere onto its surface, nuclear weaponry, the surface of stars and are now invulnerable to black holes.

Flight: like any viltrumite they can manipulate the atoms around them which allows them flight. They are able to reach light speeds when flying but only do so in space.

Superhuman Equilibrium: Cele has a very enhanced sense of balance. However this sensitive process which takes place in their ears means that like any viltrumite, they could be harmed by a specific frequency which would incapacitate them and make them unable to even fly or stand upright.

Superhuman Senses: Cele possesses acutely enhanced senses. Such as hearing, smell and sight. This can also lead to them becoming easily overstimulated, especially when they arrive on earth.

Accelerated Regeneration: her body can recover from injuries at an extreme rate. Even capable of regenerating full organs, nerves and bones. As long as their heart isn’t severely damaged they can and will heal.

Decelerated Aging: like all viltrumites they have an extremely long lifespan. While they are only currently 24, they will appear the same for many centuries. Viltrumites live for many thousands of years, their own father Nolan is over 2000 years old and appears middle aged.

Non-Viltrumite Abilities

(manifest after the black hole accident)

Pocket dimensional void (PDV): Cele can access their own pocket dimension which they refer too as the "void". It is a black oxygen-less miniature dimension that is seemingly endless, although it hasn't been measured. It is mainly used by cele as a sort of infinite storage space, any item placed in here that is not an animal of some kind will stay in the exact same state as it was when placed inside. They also use it asa place to safely decompress and calm down at times.

Dark Matter Portals: Can create portals made of dark matter. These portals can either open up to the PDV or function as traditional portals that teleport an individual from place to place. If too many are opened at once and/or kept open it can quickly tire out cele and even cause them to pass out. It's one of the things that can truly exhaust them.

Gravitational Invulnerability: They are impervious to the gravitational pull of any black hole and seemingly unaffected by them where anything else would be pulled and stretched into its singularity. It is unknown if cele can fully enter into a black hole again and what would happen

Celestial Body Connection: a new manifestation that sometimes suddenly means they feel the power of whatever celestial body they are nearest too. They have no control over this and currently it means they can become completely overwhelmed with the strength of these ancient creatures that are far more powerful and knowing that herself. Perhaps one day they could harness this power but for now it remains more of a hindrance

Singularity: the creation of a very specific type of portal that is a miniature blackhole. No other portals can be active when this is done. Extremely unstable ability thatcan leave cele seriously wounded. The singularity is a writhing, bubbling ultra-condensed amount of gravity that takes a massive amount of strength and energy to control. Only done in space as to not bring harm to any celestial bodies immediately nearby because if it was done directly on top of them it could possibly begin to immediately pull in the planet or star.

-The longer cele does this the more they lose control of it. Once their sclera turn black and their irises begin to glow it means he will be left seriously injured. Their eyes will remain in that state (except their irises will no longer glow) until they are fully healed.

Inspirations

Ellie Williams: while I will say there’s no main inspiration for cele. I do draw a lot of their personality and behavior from ellie. The struggle to survive and stay alive that that then clashes with having to try and “fit in” when arriving in Jackson is something that very much mirrors Cele’s experience with arriving on earth. And cele like ellie has very little issue about hurting/killing others if it means it helps them get to their goal. The world has made them a bit jaded and awkward but there is still much love underneath that

Rei Ayanami: I mainly pulled from the idea that rei was made to be a tool for NERV and taught to be loyal and obedient no matter what. As well as the aesthetic of the lighter hair for cele, they were made to be tool for the viltrum empire and to further its goals. So when they are pulled into the black hole into the multiverse and then spat back out and they head to earth, this all crushes their world view. They learn they aren’t some weapon or tool to be fought over but rather a person with their own agency

Gwen Stacy: I am mostly pulling from her character arc in the spiderverse films. Focusing on identity and trying to find who you are both as a hero and a person, and opening yourself up to people to let them in again.

If you made it all the way to the end thank you for reading! If you have any questions about cele please send it all to my ask box! 💜

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kaepop-trash · 1 year

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Notorious: Act IV

Rated: 18+ ONLY, Smut, Neo-Noir, Femme Fatale, Undercover Agent, Criminal, Exes to "Lovers", Mutual Pining, Cat and Mouse dynamics but make it hurt.

Pairing: JaehyunxReaderxJohnny

Summary: Inspired by Notorious (1946), Ever since your father went to jail for an illegal arms trade, a lot had changed in your life. Your present was about living with a tarnished reputation, the only redemption being a strange man who you agreed to help get to the root of the same trade that ruined your family. Still, just as you were adjusting to that very man, your past came back to haunt you. The only part of your past that had ever been happy till it wasn't, a part you could leave behind but never forget. But if Johnny was your past and Jaehyun your present, what would your future be?

Chapter Summary: Johnny asks (Y/N) for a precious favour. Jaehyun is against it and she isn't too keen on it either. What do you do when your worst fears come true?

Warnings: Smut; Fingering, Penetration, unprotected sex; Strong themes of alchoholism, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, gaslighting. THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE ASPIRATIONAL.

Word Count: 9.7k

(A/N): This took me a very long time because it was very heavy to write. Without getting too much into it, I just hope everyone can forgive me for being so inconsistent.

Act I | Act II | Act III

Taglist: @commentgirl @sadgirlroo @nak4m8to @babyksworld @milkyway-vxm @hwangfulok-blog

Johnny took her hand in his under the table, an old habit that she had just learned to live with by now. The immobility the gesture gave, made it hard to open the menu so she just leaned over to the side to peer into his.

(Y/N) could see his lips tug from the corner of her eye at the gesture as he brushed a kiss against her temple. When she turned, he gave her a pursed smile, eyes glimmering with the light that had slowly started returning in the past month. The same glimmer that made her fall in love with him once upon a time.

“You should get the shrimp pasta, they make it really well here.” His voice was soft. She had to look away to ignore the thumping in her chest, giving him a nod. He was happier lately, more than perhaps she could recall. The only time she could remember him being happier was the day he got on one knee in front of her.

(Y/N) pulled herself out of her thoughts with a harsh tug, “Sure, that sounds good.” She shrugged. “I��ll have that and a glass of rosé.”

“You’re not drinking.” He stated with a brisk finality.

“Why not?” She turned to give him a frown. “I want a glass of rosé.”

“You don’t need it though, sweetheart.” He lifted her hand, giving it a kiss. “It’s just a glass of wine.”

“Exactly.” She pulled her hand out of his, “It’s just a glass of wine that I want to pair my food with.

Johnny sighed, “I’m just looking out for you.”

“I appreciate it.” She spoke, clearly not meaning it. “I’m still getting myself what I want.

“(Y/N).” His voice was an impatient warning that he tried to soften with a sigh.

“Stop speaking.” She didn’t soften the warning in her tone. “You can’t make decisions for me.”

“Why are you being like this?” Johnny frowned, “I’ve noticed that you drink too much and I’m just concerned. Why are you making me sound like a villain?” He sounded hurt, brows furrowing.

She stared at him for a moment, feeling whiplash from how rapidly he made her feel nineteen years old again. She had to look away to curb her anger. She reminded herself that she wasn’t nineteen anymore and took a deep breath instead of just spitting her anger out at him. She was not going to make it easier for him.

“I’m not trying to make you sound like a villain. That was not my intention, I apologise if it sounded like that.” She surrendered, looking away and catching a waiter’s eye.

Johnny looked extremely confused from her admittance, forehead creasing for a second before he sighed and gave her a tight lip smile. Johnny had been ready for a fight. One where he could emerge as the martyr, as was his habit. And she was not going to make it easy.

“I just want what’s best for you.” He reasoned.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She hummed, looking up just as the waiter approached. When it looked like Johnny was going to reach for her hand, she busied it by reaching for her glass of water. Johnny didn’t say anything, neither did he make any further attempt to touch her. When the waiter asked if they wanted something to drink with their food, she said no.

“They have a raspberry pudding on the menu.” Johnny spoke for the first time once their plates were empty. "Should we order some?" He asked, speaking like he was walking on eggshells.

"Sure." She spoke, giving him a compliant nod. Johnny flexed his jaw, turning away from her to call a waiter. His forehead creased with clear markings of irritation. The audacity of it offended her, but she willed herself to keep her mouth shut and they finished their dinner in silence.

They made it back to his house like that, Johnny following behind her as they ascended the stairs that led to the living room.

"Why are you angry at me when I was just looking out for you?" He spoke just as she turned to go upstairs to the bedroom.

"Who said I'm angry?" She resisted the urge to frown.

"You are angry." He huffed.

She turned to him with eyes void of any emotion at all. "No I'm not.” She lied. “You just want me to be angry because then you can tell me how you were looking out for me and how I'm not justified in my anger."

Johnny looked a little caught off guard by the assessment, yet recovering in a beat. "I was looking out for you."

Sharp anger rose to her head from the repeated sentence. Like if he said it enough times, she'd somehow believe him. Or he’d believe himself.

"I know. And I am not angry. I said I'm sorry to you then. So why are we having this conversation?” She furrowed her brows, feigning confusion.

“I know you. I especially know your anger.” He injected.

“Was deciding what I'll consume not enough? Now you want to decide how I'm feeling?" The words slipped off her lips with increasing hostility, realising too late when Johnny's frown unfurled. He had trapped her.

"I thought you weren't angry." He took a step closer towards her.

"I'm not." She turned away from him, feeling like a child caught in a lie.

"I wasn't trying to control you.” He took a step on the stairs, coming around her to meet her gaze— and to tower over her. “I was just doing what someone who cares would." He tried to reason, tone still infuriatingly chastising.

"I didn't say you were controlling me." She said without bite, not looking up at him, adamant to not give him anything to use against her again. She knew how he fought, always ready to make himself the victim so she was left to be the perpetrator.

"In only so many words." He came closer, putting a hand over the one she had on the railing. "I just don't see why you drink all the time. You almost finished the whiskey I keep in the office." His tone changed and she tried to move away from the concern.

"I'll buy you more." She tried to go around him, stopping when he squeezed her hand to curb her ascend.

"You know that's not what this is about." His voice edged on a sense of betrayal. "I know things haven't been easy for you. Nobody knows that more than me. But this isn't the answer. Sometimes we need to face things instead of hiding behind temporary solutions."

She gripped her own jaw this time, tight me enough that her cheekbones ached.

"You're assuming too much." Her voice was low, a dangerous line where any louder would make the rolling fury in her erupt. "I'm not hiding." She turned to look at him, "I'm sorry my drinking concerns you. But I don't do it as a crutch." She defended herself, neither of them believing her words entirely.

Johnny looked like he was going to say something but he let go, leaning closer to kiss her brow instead.

"Let's not be like this. I don't want us to fight over every little thing like we used to." He mumbled against her, pulling away to give her a smile and pulling her hand away from the railing into his.

She didn't protest, giving him a nod that they both knew was half hearted.

That night (Y/N) went home. Johnny didn't say anything when she asked to be dropped to the apartment, he knew why. She always took time to be by herself when she was angry. He always told himself that it wasn't to be away from him, but to see the arguments with a much needed distance. He always told himself that she did exactly what he did. And he accepted it because out of all the times she left, it was only once when she didn't come back. He knew this time wouldn’t be the second.

A few days later he asked to meet her at a cafe on Copacabana. Without considering it a choice, she went.

"I'm getting an award." Johnny spoke first, taking the time to drink his coffee before doing so.

Her lips parted to silence, unsure about how to react. "For what?" She asked, swallowing after.

Johnny failed to bite down the smile at the corner of his lips, "Some business award. The company made good profits last year."

"That's great, Johnny. I’m so proud of you." She gave him a smile, weak despite her conscious effort.

"I want you to come with me." He added, stumbling over the words.

"Where would we go?" She questioned with a lighter tone. Johnny didn't respond immediately, instead avoiding her gaze and fidgeting with the handle of his small espresso cup. Realisation dawned on her, squeezing her lungs painfully. "No. I can't." She wanted to sound firm but her words came out a plea.

"It'll just be for three days. It'll be over before you know it. Just an evening of meeting a few strangers." He added with a soft look in his eyes.

"Johnny, I–" she tried to reason, to explain to him how he was asking the impossible of her. "Everybody will talk. Home is–" her words failed her again.

"I know." He reached across the table, grabbing her hand. "But I'll be right there with you. It's an important day for me, (Y/N). It's an important day for the business. So many of my father's family fought tooth and nail to break the company apart. They said I could never take on my father's mantle." His fingers squeezed her palm. Unintentionally, she noted.

"This award." His jaw flexed, "It's a product of every effort I put, everything I've sacrificed. It's proof that all of it was worth something in the end." His eyes clouded with some far away storm, mirroring the encroaching clouds above them. “For them, at least.”

He snapped out of it at the moment, looking at her with a soft smile, "Everybody else there will be an enemy or a stranger. I want you to be there. You're all I have."

His words made the pressure on her lungs shift to the cavity of her heart, pressing down with a punishing weight. There was nothing to say to such a heartfelt plea. It didn't matter that going back home was something that would bring her nothing good, not when the alternate was so heartbreaking.

She could picture Johnny standing there, receiving some mass produced trophy while apathetic and vindictive people all watched and clapped.

It also seemed to make her see how lonely he must have been all these years. All his achievements, small and big, as well as his failures passing by without a person to pat his back or lend their shoulder.

"Alright. I'll come." The way the simple gesture made his entire face light up did not make her feel good. These days she was found guilt becoming a chronic pain— one that bothered constantly but had bouts of intensity.

The Two Faces of Concern

“You can’t go.” He got off the sofa in a fury. “We don’t know what kind of people he associates with. We don’t know what could go wrong.” His brows fluffed up in fury, knitting together impossibly tight.

“I don’t have a choice.” She looked to the floor, confused and angered by his demeanor. “What am I supposed to say when he asks me to go with him for something so important?”

“You say you’ll think about it.” He added with an incredulous fury. “Then you come to me! And I we come up with an excuse for you.” His voice rose higher.

“That’s not going to work.” She needed to pause. After so many years, such constant bouts of anger felt unsettling to her. “You don’t know him. That’s why I’m here. Your boss gave me a task. To keep him close and to keep an ear out. I am doing exactly what I was told to do.”

“You can’t do anything if you’re dead!” He pointed his hand at her, his gesture and tone bordering on accusatory. He paused, taking a step back and swallowing. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, a hand coming to his waist while the other rubbed his face.

He walked a few steps around the room, trying to calm down it seemed, before coming back to her. This time he kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Listen to me.” He urged. “Look at me, (Y/N).” He practically pleaded. The desperation in his tone was the only reason she turned to face him. “I know that you think you’re safe. I know you believe you know this man because you knew him once. But you don’t know what he’s capable of. What he’s already done.” He sighed, no doubt understanding the stubborn refusal in her.

Jaehyun’s head dropped, looking defeated. “If something happened to you. I would never forgive myself.” He put a hand on her thigh. The way she turned to glare at it made him recoil. “You’re my responsibility.” He spoke after swallowing the hurt from her gesture. “I’m the sole reason you agreed to do this.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She interjected. She thought the blow would make her feel good about herself. But seeing his face drop only tugged at her now sore chest.

“Why did you agree to go?” He asked, his eyes turning into frigid slits.

“I didn’t think I had a choice.” She repeated herself, each word uttered with a pause to emphasize.

“You always have a choice.” He threw his reciprocating blow with a featherlight tone. Her lips parted from offense, ready to defend herself. But he clarified, “I’ve been watching you. I’ve seen how you change around him.” His accusations cut through her like knives.

“And what change is that, pray tell?” She questioned.

“Your edges soften around him. You let him sway you with his words. You believe his lies despite yourself.” He assessed clinically, like a man whose job it is to read people.

“I feel sorry for him!” Hot tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, “Surely you can at least try to understand how it must feel. And I'm always tiptoeing around him because your boss wants me to keep him happy!" She deflected the accusation, distantly wondering why she was getting so defensive.

“He’s devoted to you.” Jaehyun simply stated, looking away from her with a grimace.

"I know." She spoke around the lump forming in her throat at her own confession. "Which is why your caution is out of line."

"The more the devotion, the more betrayal he will feel eventually, (Y/N). Remember that when you're in a different country with him, out of my reach. When I can't save you if something happens." He cautioned still.

Maybe his words made her feel like a child, something she hated feeling, because her next words were self-admittedly out of line.

"I'm out of your reach every time I'm in his bed too, Jaehyun." The words were no louder than a pin dropping. “He could choked me to death while inside me and you wouldn’t know.”

Jaehyun got up in a huff that left a gust of air in it's wake. He turned away from her swiftly as she tried to push down the part of her that wanted to take the words back.

"When are you leaving?" He questioned, adjusting his clothes and distracting himself.

"Day after." She answered dispassionately.

"The least you can do is keep me updated on your whereabouts. The captain will need a report on it." He was already ready to walk away.

"Sure." Her response was the final task he had, taking long strides and shutting his bedroom door with a loud thud.

She sighed, the solitude allowing her to finally drop each pretense she had to keep up just to survive each day.

Tears were almost commonplace on her lashes now. Angry tears, frustrated tears, heartbroken tears and tears of defeat. But each fresh bout always left her feeling betrayed by her own body.

Home

Coming home was odd. Even from the moment she landed, the airport was very familiar to her. Johnny didn't point out how silent she was ever since they landed. In fact, he seemed deep in his own thoughts while both of them watched the familiar streets pass by.

(Y/N) was so engrossed in her thoughts that it took her a while to realise that that the streets they passed were a little too familiar. When they stopped in front of a building she would recognise anywhere, her heart dropped into her stomach. When she turned to look at Johnny, his smile was a small one. The gleam in his eyes though was unmistakable.

“How?” She questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go home first, I’ll tell you upstairs.” He told her, reaching over to take her hand in his. To go Home.

Walking into her old apartment was like being transported back in time. Everything was as she remembered, including the little trinkets of decoration scattered around the space. The teal vase on the table in front of the foyer, the dark green couch, even the white curtains were all things she had bought herself once upon a time. (Y/N) was speechless.

“When I heard they were auctioning your father’s estate after the trial, I tried not to give it mind.” Johnny spoke after closing the door behind him. “But I ended up looking up the catalogue.” She could hear him come closer, her eyes still busy scanning her old apartment. “When I saw that this apartment was on the list. I couldn’t help myself.” He stopped a few steps behind her.

“How?” Her voice gave away her surprise, “How did you pay for it? Your father was still–” She stopped, unsure of whether that was a line she could tow.

“He didn’t even know about it.” He stated with a razor thin edge to his voice. “I broke my trust fund and managed to buy the place with everything intact.” He continued, sounding so utterly dismissive about it.

“Johnny.” She finally turned to face him, all the building emotions bubbling up her throat.

“This was my home too.” His hands remained in his pocket, eyes on the floor. “In my entire life, this was the place I was the happiest. I wasn’t ready to let that go. Especially when it was one of the rare things I had the power to keep.”

She could understand his feelings even if the gesture overwhelmed her. She remained silent for a moment longer, just looking him over till Johnny shifted under the prolonged scrutiny.

“You’re making me nervous.” His forehead creased. The chuckle that left him was dry.

Good. She thought, now he knew how she felt around him all those years ago.

“Say something.” He added with a smaller voice. "Please."

She took two steps till he was in arm’s reach, clutching at his t-shirt to pull him the rest of the way. Their lips met in a clumsy crash, teeth clashing into teeth. Johnny’s arms snaked around her waist to control the pace.

There was no haste in their movements anymore. Johnny had nothing to prove this time, and she had nowhere to hide. It was a slow kiss that only existed to exist. Like walking around your house in the dark because you know every turn like the back of your hand.

When his hips pressed against hers, she stumbled back with confidence. Letting instinct take over, they moved towards the destination known to them instinctually. She didn’t even realise where she was stumbling to till her back pressed against the piano.

His hands dragged down her back, and she leapt without being told, arms resting on his neck. Gingerly, he sat her down on the polished black surface.

“This is still my favourite place to fuck you.” He whispered against her mouth, peppering kisses over her face as he stroked her dress higher up her thighs.

“Me too.” She answered, tugging his belt off with a quick tug.

“I have waited.” He spoke between his increasingly heavy kisses, “I’ve laboured.” He nipped against her shoulders, “I even prayed.” His tongue swirled over the vein on her neck, bringing short gasps from her. “And I would have done more.” He dragged his teeth over her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “I would drag down heaven to earth, if it meant I could have you back here. That’s why I couldn’t let this place go. Because I will never let you go.”

His words left her light-headed, unable to breathe. After tugging his pants below his waist, she sighed with relief when he pulled it off the rest of the way himself. Her hands reached the hem of his shirt just as his index tapped her thigh, a silent request to lift her hips off the piano. The remainder of their clothes hit the floor together, lips crashing together shortly after the interruption.

“Sometimes I think I’ve finally gone crazy. That I wished for you so bad that I created an illusion just to survive.” His laboured breath fanned her neck.

“I told you.” The strain of her breath matched his, “If this was a dream it would be easier.” His fingers brushed over her naked heat, slipping into her slowly.

“No.” He said as her eyes fluttered shut, “I wouldn’t be, (Y/N). I love all of you. Even my illusions would be of who you are, not who you can be.”

“Including the difficult parts?” Her jaw dropped when he began scissoring his fingers.

“Especially those. But you already know that.” He kept up his ministrations till Johnny was satisfied that he’s stretched her out well. "I know you feel the same." There was a fragile hope in his voice.

“I can’t love what I don’t know.” Her heart began hammering, and it had nothing to do with how he brushed over her G-spot. She willed her eyes to look into his, “Tell me your worst.” She requested, eyes meek but voice resolute. Her form faltered when he began to enter her without warning, easing himself in a few inches at a time. “You already know all of mine.” She lied.

“I will. One of these days.” He promised, both of them groaning when he filled her up completely.

She knew his words were a lie. Johnny would never tell her the truth. It wasn't because he didn’t want to, she knew that he craved understanding more than anything else. His claims of seeing her so absolutely came with the desire to want to be seen with the same transparency. But he’d hold the secret to himself because he knew her.

He knew that she would struggle to accept the reality of who he was. Two months ago, he would have been right. These days she felt like this charade was marking itself on her skin.

“Johnny.” She moaned when she felt her gut tie into a knot. “Don’t stop.” She pawed at his chest, unsure whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

“Never.” He promised again, leaving a trail of gentle kisses all over her face as he increased his pace. He watched her intently as her face scrunched up, her jaw going slack as she came crashing down.

She wasn’t sure when he came, but when he pulled out, she felt the warmth ooze out of her. Exhausted from the long trip and everything that followed, her thoughts lost the ability to linger, and she simply leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, surrendering her weight soon after. He picked her up with ease, lifted her legs to wrap around his waist and guided them to the bedroom that was once hers— that they once shared during a time when the future felt a lot more certain.

She fell asleep in his arms and, for the first time in years, it felt right. She blamed her old apartment and her sleep-addled brain for it. With your eyes closed, it was hard to remember when in time she was.

The next two days were spent locked away. The days were passed between the sheets, caught between the memories of a once-perfect life.

Johnny was lighter here. His eyes were brighter and he was less burdened by his own notions. It felt closest to the Johnny she was once crazy about from afar. It was the Johnny she went to watch at basketball matches in school and then at his University when he graduated before her. She didn't even like basketball.

He even resorted to his old sense of humour. One she had almost not noticed the lack of. Despite all signs pointing to otherwise, (Y/N) always knew Johnny for his intensity. To see him like that all the time now had begun to feel natural to her.

So it surprised her when she seemed to easily match his quips with her own. He was surprised too, she could tell with a dizzying sense of glee. For the first time, their relationship seemed to be on equal footing. Even if the relationship itself was a sham.

"Have you decided what you want to wear to the ceremony?" Johnny questioned over breakfast on the third day.

She shook her head at her omlette, "I figured you'll pick." She shrugged.

Johnny looked pleased when she met his eyes, trying to hide it like he was caught. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to." He stated as he reached for his juice.

"Why not?" She frowned, "You always pick outfits for these things."

"That's exactly why I wasn't sure."

She felt ambushed by the remark, not sure why he sounded so aggrieved. Not wanting to ruin a good week they had been having, she acted like she didn't notice.

"One less thing to worry about." She tried to keep her her tone light, brushing it off with a shrug.

She ended up joining him on a quick errand run in the afternoon. He promised to quickly drop something off at the office before taking her to buy something. Having nothing better to do, she agreed.

When she walked into Johnny's office, she was aware that people watched as they walked by. Despite only coming into the building a handful of times her entire life, it was understandable that they knew who she was. The lingering whispers told her that they probably knew what she had once done too, or what her father did. It was like the moment she left the safety of seclusion, she was reminded once again how stifling this world could be.

(Y/N) stood in the changing room, running her hands over the fitted bust of the dress on her. She tried to picture herself, standing beside Johnny on an occasion where he was the guest of honour. All eyes on him, and as a consequence on her. Her hand turned over, knuckles digging into the beading on the corset. Did she look like she deserved to stand beside a man like that?

The last thought soured in her mind the very next second, a burdensome idea that pulled out the rotting creature inside her— the creature of habit. She walked out to look for the attendant to unzip her, only to find that Johnny had returned from browsing the shop. He looked up when he heard the curtains draw open, his attention seizing immediately.

"You look beautiful." He told her, eyes dragging over her entire form before coming back to her eyes and making her cheeks heat up.

"I don't like it too much." She looked away from him, busying herself with scanning the rack of clothes she had picked for fun. All in an attempt to avoid second guessing herself in the face of his compliment.

"I picked something for you." She didn't know when he had moved so close, gasping when his breath hit the back of her neck.

Her fingers stilled on a dress she thought would flatter her, a dress she could actually like. "Show me." She asked softly.

She ended up picking the dress Johnny picked. Looking in the mirror, it felt like the dress that most suited the intention she was going for. Most importantly, Johnny looked happy when they left the boutique.

He was still grinning when they got into the car. He turned to her with the kind of sparkle in his eyes that still never failed to make her heart skip a small beat. She blamed this on the fact that those sparkles were now rare.

“I just have one last thing to do and then we can go home. Do you want to get dinner before that or do you want to eat at home?” He reached over to take her hand in his.

“Let’s just eat out. I don’t want you to go back and cook, that’s too exhausting.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged.

“Yeah but I do.” She laughed, “I want you to myself after we get home.” She looked away from him with a coy smile. Laughing when Johnny leaned closer as she predicted.

“You know how to convince a man, (Y/N).” He teased her.

“I know how to convince you.” Her eyes rolled back as his lips pressed against her neck, lips parting when he hummed.

“Of course you do. I am a lucky man, after all." He placed a kiss on her neck, lingering long enough to elicit a reaction from her.

The driver stopped, silently signalling their arrival. (Y/N) looked out the window, confused about what she saw.

“A jewellery store? Should I be worried?” She only partially joked, swallowing her folly when he gave her a half-hearted smile in response.

"Rin is getting married next month. I wanted to get her something nice."

“Oh,” was all she could manage in response. "But she's so young." She mumbled, picturing the small girl that followed Johnny around.

He laughed, his cheeks stretching into the whiskers she hadn’t seen in years till that moment. "She's younger than us for sure." He reached out, taking her hands into hers. "But old enough to start her own family, I guess." He squeezed her knuckles once before giving a tug. "Let's go?"

"Oh, I-" She looked out of the window beside her, "What will I do?" She said awkwardly.

"Give your fashionable opinion on what to get." He shrugged avoiding her gaze, opening the door on his side to the curb.

(Y/N) felt confused by the change in his demeanour but nodded with a smile, following him out of the vehicle. Johnny took her hand in his, squeezing it once again.

“You look so beautiful today.” He gave her a tight lipped smile, not really looking at her before saying it.

Her brows knit together, wondering why he was acting strange. The question was bubbling up to her lips as they walked into the store. And then a sound made her turn to look.

“Johnny!” Rin squealed with a wide grin. The next moment her eyes fell on (Y/N). Her smile flipped instantly, gaze steeling over. Johnny squeezed her hand again.

“Have you picked anything yet?” He asked back, trying to hide the strain in his voice with a breezy laugh.

Rin didn’t speak, she didn’t move. All she did was stare at (Y/N), eyes full of suspicion and disgust. (Y/N) pictured the Rin she remembered, with the wide and kind smile that both her and Johnny got from their mothers.

(Y/N) wished the ground would swallow her, or a strong wind would sweep her away.

“What is she doing here?” Another voice chimed in, Rin’s mother. (Y/N) squeezed Johnny’s hand, he didn’t reciprocate.

Rin’s eyes caught the moment, falling to their joined palms. “They’re back together.” She said in tandem with her realisation, turning back to face her mother. A silent conversation passed between them where (Y/N) only caught the look on the mother’s face. More distrust, even more disgust.

Johnny’s aunt never liked (Y/N). Her family was a newcomer in their circle, moving into town after her grandfather sold their ancestral property to his government. (Y/N)’s family was older than theirs, and they were richer than Rin’s father.

(Y/N) and her father were born in this city. But to Rin’s mother and those like her, (Y/N) was always going to be just one thing. A foreigner.

“Yes we are.” Johnny spoke up after several moments, his voice small. He tugged at her hand lightly, making her realise that (Y/N) had shifted to hide behind him. “You know how much Rin loved to dress up in (Y/N)’s clothes. That’s why she wanted to help pick my gift.”

(Y/N)’s ears rang so loud that she didn’t hear their response or what Johnny said in return. She slipped out of the present moment, wrapping herself in her mind and hiding in its comfort. Rin used to love dressing up in (Y/N)’s clothes because she was a teenager whose parents dressed her like a toddler. Rin used to look upto (Y/N) because she was her favourite cousin’s favourite person. And now she was the one who ruined her favourite cousin’s soul.

A hot shiver racked up her chest that felt like a sob and (Y/N) crushed it between her newly manicured nails. Johnny tugged her forward and she followed without resistance, not even thinking of the action. Unlike them, she would not be allowed to show her own betrayal so blatantly.

“What do you think about this?” Johnny’s voice snapped her back to reality, bringing her focus to his hands. He held a necklace littered with diamonds, sparkling so hard that she had to squint.

“Feels too much.” She spoke before she could think. When Rin’s mother shot her a look, (Y/N) bit her tongue.

“I think we should get something smaller.” Rin chimed in, tone clipped.

“No that isn’t what I meant.” (Y/N) tried to say, but Johnny frowned and she realised that her thoughtless words had done something to offend them all. So she just exhaled, “I think Rin’s opinion is what should matter, Johnny. She should pick.” She squeezed Johnny’s arm and gave the women the best smile she could manage.

(Y/N) took a step back, deciding that was the best course of action. This wasn’t her world anymore, she tried to remind herself. What these people thought about her didn’t matter anymore.

That is what she repeated to herself over and over as she found a chair to sit on, trying her best to stay out of anybody’s way. Away was where she had intended to stay till Johnny was done. After the rush of immediate injustice subsided, she wondered if she was being unfair. Rin was Johnny's cousin in name. In practice, she was the closest thing he had to a little sister. They grew up side by side and he had always adored her. When his mother died, Rin lost her aunt as well. They shared that loss.

Rin was family and she loved her brother. (Y/N) just wished that Johnny didn’t bring her here. No matter his intention, he must have known that this would be uncomfortable for everyone. (Y/N) took a deep breath, tearing her gaze away from the happy smiles the three shared. She reminded herself again that this wasn’t her world anymore.

In an effort to distract herself, (Y/N) scanned through the pieces of jewellery in the glass cases around her. She got up to look around, browsing to picture what the owner of each piece would be like.

She saw a blue sapphire tiara that would belong to an oil heiress, a 25 carat topaz cocktail ring that looked like it was bought by a widow who inherited a barony, and a macau brooch that looked like it belonged to the mistress of a dictator. Each piece stood out with an inherent personality and she was almost lost in their worlds during her brief lingering study.

She stopped in front of a bracelet of ruby. The individual stoned were laid in so seamlessly that it looked like one dazzling sheet of the vibrant stone. Only on close inspection could you see the hexagon cut stones with an occasional deep green emerald and clear diamond tucked in between the sea of red. The bracelet looked like it was seeped in blood because of the deep hue of the rubies. (Y/N) concluded that this would belong to someone who had blood on their hands, the sparkling diamonds distracting from the ocean of red.

“Do you like it?” Johnny spoke and she jumped. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had been sneaked up upon. Jaehyun would be pissed if he saw how badly she had let her guard down today.

“Not at all.” She said, turning away from the display to turn to him.

“It’s exactly your taste.” Johnny countered, brows furrowing in that signature confusing way. Where one couldn’t tell if he was concerned or furious.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew my tastes better than me.” She dismissed his words, walking away to find more temporary lives to live between shiny stones.

“Of course I do. It is the buyers burden to pick the right gift.” He smirked.

“You don’t need to buy anything so don’t burden yourself.” She shrugged.

“It would look beautiful on you. It looks like it was made for you.” He insisted, “Let me get it. I want to see you wear it.” He raised his hand to call for an attendant. She grabbed his wrist immediately but the action did exactly what she feared. Along with the attendant, Rin and her mother turned to them.

“Could you please show me this set?” Johnny asked.

“Set? Johnny wh-” She tugged at his sleeve but he clicked his tongue. “Please, you’re here to buy your sister a wedding present. Don’t do this, it looks bad. What will they think, Johnny? They already hate me.” She whispered and hissed but he was undeterred.

“They don’t hate you. They just think they still have to pick sides.” He said with excruciating naivety. “Besides, it’s my money. I will do what I want with it.”

The attendant walked up to the case and she had no choice but to let it go.

“A beautiful choice, Sir. They say a high quality ruby is rarer than a diamond. Each stone is individually sourced from around the world to have the same pigeon’s blood hue.” He spoke to them while being loud enough to be heard by Rin, assuming she was the one he had to convince.

“Rubies don’t really suit Rin.” Her mother laughed from across the room. “Plus I don’t think red would be appropriate for the wedding.”

“It’s for (Y/N). Johnny said without turning to them. But (Y/N) was looking and she saw the women’s face. If she believed that Ruby wasn’t an appropriate choice before, she now wanted it nonetheless.

“Look.” Johnny whispered close to her ear, “It’s perfect.” He was loud enough for just them.

(Y/N) turned at his words, failing to catch her gasp in her throat. It truly was a beautiful set. The bracelet, as beautiful as it was, seemed to be a puzzle piece of a larger masterpiece. The necklace was a mofit of ruby flowers with only a few of them having equally splendid emerald leaves. The earrings too were beautifully set scarlet rubies with joints of diamonds. The whole set that diamonds on the joints but it did truly fill like an afterthought, a blank canvas to highlight the rubies the same way the emeralds conntrasted them. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and she hated the fact. She hated that she wanted it despite herself.

“I love it.” Her voice wavered. It was the truth but she wanted him to think it was a lie. She wanted him to think she didn’t want it, but also hoped that he knew how much she appreciated it. Her head hurt.

“Wear it for me when we go home. Just this.” He had the gall to ask.

She decided it best to respond to him in fear of what she’d let slip. Hopefully, Johnny would get the hint.

She stayed by Johnny’s side till Rin had successfully picked her choice. They didn’t acknowledge each other but Johnny slipped his arm around her waist. If Johnny thought that a few stones would make her forget what he did today, he truly must have started believing that she was a figment of his imagination.

The necklace Rin had picked for herself was beautiful, a string of dazzling transparent diamonds with the occasional pink stone that made it look whimsical. But (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how Rin’s mother kept eyeing the closed lid on the ruby set.

“If the box is that beautiful, the thing itself must be a treat.” She commented.

“It is.” Johnny grinned, opening the box to show it.

Both of their lips pursed on seeing the set. (Y/N) bit her lip harshly, only feeling the storm inside her growing. Rin looked away with a shake of her head, turning back to her own gift with a gentle smile.

“Johnny you should come for my party! It’s in an hour anyway.” Rin beamed, clearly happy.

“Sure.” Johnny shrugged, “We would love to come.”

All three women turned to Johnny but he looked like he did not notice. (Y/N) bit her tongue, hoping that his aunt would chime in again. But she did not.

“Sure.” Rin spoke after the excruciating silence, “See you there.”

“She doesn’t even want me there!” (Y/N) tried to explain, struggling to keep her voice levelled lest he accuse her of overreacting.

“If she didn’t, why would she ask you to come, (Y/N)?” Johnny spoke to his laptop, having it on his lap since they got back into the car with the excuse of pending work. In truth he was doing his best to avoid her justified fury.

“She didn’t! You made us a package deal.” She huffed, fist clenching in her lap, creasing her dress.

“We are a package deal.” Johnny looked up at her, frowning. “That’s what it means to be in a relationship, does it not?”

Her first clenched tighter, “That isn’t the point, but you don’t care so why bother?” She was so livid that a defeated laugh slipped past her lips. “Just go without me. No one will want me there, this is unnecessary.”

“They will suck it up then. You are my girlfriend, if someone has a problem with that then they will have to tell us both to leave.”

“I don’t want to go either, Johnny.” She took both his hands into hers, trying to make him look at her. She pleaded with him now, desperate to be released from this. “You will make this uncomfortable for everyone, including Rin.” She tried to use his precious cousin to make her point.

To her relief, it looked like he was considering it for a moment, grinding his teeth together as his eyes remained still on her.

“I’ve already said we’re going. We can’t cancel.” He stated plainly, taking his hands out of hers.

She laughed again, the same furious laugh of utter disbelief and even more betrayal. She was the fool to believe his claims of having changed.

Sins of the Past

The party was worse than she imagined. (Y/N) told herself she had tried. She had tried to smile and she had tried to ignore the looks and whispers. She even tried to ignore that her cousin, Isabella was there; ignore when she brought up specific moments that were an attempt to embarrass her.

She ignored it all because these people were Johnny’s family and friends and she owed him this much. So she tried to keep herself scarce and waited for the moment it would be appropriate to ask him to leave. She had also decided to just not bring today up after it was over. There was no point anyway.

This is how she had lulled herself in her own mind, monitoring the windows for the sunset.

“(Y/N) you haven’t said a word all evening.” A voice chimed up, one of Johnny’s friends from university.

(Y/N) turned, ready with her excuse of being tired.

“That’s her seventh glass, after all.” Her cousin chimed in, biting her lip like she somehow hadn’t been waiting all evening to bring it up.

(Y/N) felt her resolve snap, “I’ve just never been the type to invite myself to conversations I’m not a part of.” Only as she reached halfway through her sentence did sense catch on.

“And yet you’re here.” Her cousin scoffed, ignoring the shove the person beside her gave her.

She let the words crash over her, trying her best to brush it off. Yet, despite those words, it was a silence that rang louder. Johnny’s silence.

“At least I was invited out of love and not obligation.” She shot back, letting her day’s indignation ferment into the venom that dripped from her tongue.

“Ironic because that love is also an obligation. You would know if you had the capacity for either.”

“How would you know what love is?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Her cousin laughed, “Truly, I would never understand your idea of love. At least you got a pretty necklace out of it though.” She raised her glass to (Y/N), “My mother did always say that you were as oppurtunistic as your mother.”

“Don’t talk about my mother. You don’t want me to speak.” (Y/N)’s voice came out so low that she surprised herself. Her whole body shook from the impossible weight of her anger.

More silence. This time she turned to Johnny. A part of her hoped that if he wouldn’t defend her, then he would at least walk out. But Johnny only sat in the sofa across the room, eyes on the floor and furrowed in it’s signature unreadable way.

(Y/N) turned back to the bar she was sitting against, reaching over to pull the closest bottle towards her. “Eight is my lucky number.” She said loud enough for both Johnny and her cousin to hear. Once full to her heart’s content, she picked up her glass along with the leftover pieces of her dignity and held both tightly in her fist. Before she could tilt her glass to her lips, a hand landed on hers.

“No more, (Y/N).” Johnny warned, voice wavering with anger. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you angry about?” She asked, laughing again as she said the words out loud, finding the situation ridiculous. Still she realised that she said it louder than intended, probably sounding like the drunk she was painted to be.

“Just put the glass down, (Y/N).” He told her, despite having a death grip on her wrist that controlled all her movement.

“You’re causing a scene, Johnny.” She said the words that Johnny has used on her cyclically before.

“Get up.” He wasn’t asking. She listened because she didn’t want to drag on the public spectacle. As Johnny dragged her across the room, she couldn’t help glance at her cousin. Her eyes were on Johnny’s hand on her arm and (Y/N) bottled the small victory up.

“Let me go.” She said when she realised that he wasn’t walking towards the door, “I just want to go home.”

“First we need to apologise to Rin.” He spoke with his jaw set tight, like she was to be blamed. She couldn’t even tell if she was, not with everyone staring at her the way they did. She hated this place with every fibre of her being.

Johnny stopped in front of Rin, letting out a trembling sigh that held back all of his anger. “I’m sorry for all of this.” Johnny said so sincerely that (Y/N) wanted to scream. He was apologising on her behalf and she had nothing to be apologetic for.

“I don’t understand why you try so hard with her?” Rin spoke like (Y/N) wasn’t standing right in front of her. “She ruined you from the inside out and you just fell for the same lies again. The only thing that’s changed since the last time is that she can’t fall back on her father. Or his money.” Rin hissed, the words dragging down (Y/N)’s back like nails on a chalkboard.

As calmly as she could, (Y/N) pulled her arm out of Johnny’s. She knew that leaving wasn’t going to help because Johnny would follow her and blame her for it. So instead she turned to the open balcony behind Rin, walking in and closing the door behind her.

She stood there, the wind whistling in her ear like it was wincing at her circumstance. She had given up trying to wipe her tears away because it only made her skin sting. She stood there and told herself that, if nothing else, she was at least sure she had made the right decision all those years ago.

"Come back inside." His order announced his arrival after a very long time. (Y/N) wiped her eyes, lowering her chin so her hair would hide her face. She didn't dignify the words with an answer, continuing to look out at the city below her.

"(Y/N)." He warned, "Everybody will wonder where you are."

"No they won't." Her jaw slid over the other, teeth grinding down. "They know why I am not inside. So just go back to your party, Johnny. Otherwise they'll wonder where you are."

He sighed, a sound of rustling following that was clearly him running his hands through his hair. "Look I'm sure she didn't mean to sound so–"

"Hostile?" She turned, tongue and gaze both sharp as a knife. "What else did she intend to sound like when she called me an opportunistic slut? A fucking gold digger?"

"She didn't say that." He put his hands into his pockets.

(Y/N) gave him an incredulous face, his dismissal stinging more than anything anybody inside was capable of.

"Go inside, John. I don't want to fight with you right now. They'll blame me for your bad mood."

"God damn it!" Johnny kicked something, the sound of shattering following after. She turned with wide eyes to see a flower pot lying in pieces on the floor on a pile of soil. "I just wanted one good day. Just a relaxed day where I can spend time with what remains of my family and the woman I love. Why are you doing this?"

"I am not." She looked up at him, words interrupted by a belligerent breath. "What have I done?" She asked, confused and hurt. "My cousin said so many things. I just listened. You said nothing in my defense and I still just stood there, I took it all. Even when Rin said those things. I just stood there. What else do you want me to do?"

"Just come inside."

"I don't want to! Why do I have to go back? So they can whisper as I walk by again? So they can pat themselves on the back after they confirm that I have no shame? No sense of self respect?” She took a step closer as Johnny stumbled back, “You told me to come back to this city with you. You promised me that it would just be the award. You broke that promise. Then you told me to help you buy something for your cousin I agreed. You didn't tell me they would be there too. You sabotaged me and I stayed silent. You said yes to this and I did not protest. Your cousin said whatever she wished. You did not defend me and I still did not so much as make a sound. You failed me and you didn’t bother protecting me, the women you love. What more do you want from me?” She questioned, tears blurring her vision.

She furiously wiped at her face, the back of her hand dragging the skin till her face felt raw again.

“You’re hurting yourself.” He said gently. It grated her more than anything so far. What good was his concern now?

"Why didn't you defend me?" She cut him off. "You keep talking about what this means to you." She pointed between them. "So what? You will drag down heaven to earth for me but you can't stand up for me?" She pointed out what he said to her.

Johnny furrowed his brows, "What was I supposed to say?"

"You were supposed to tell her to shut up! You were supposed to remind her that I am the person who you claim to love. You were supposed to say that you wanted me back. The least you could have done was said you wanted me here, Johnny. You should have said something.” She groaned, turning away from him. The reiteration of the betrayal brought a fresh assault of tears. She felt so weak and vulnerable begging in front of him. And Johnny looked bemused.

"So what?” Johnny said calmly,” You don't want to be together?"

“Don't twist my words.” She warned him.

"Twist?" Johnny's brows creased, "It's what you just said!" He shoved his hand in the space between them, raising his voice.

"You’re shouting. Don't start a fight." She stepped back from him, feeling like she was being cornered into this confrontation.

"I'm not the one trying to start a fight." He countered.

"All I did was step out of a room where I am not wanted. To let out the tears I could not inside. I didn’t leave because I know you want to meet your friends and family, so I am here and I just want to be left along."

"You left because it shows everyone inside how wrapped around your finger I am. Because you know I would follow you in here immediately." Johnny crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at her over his nose.

"Excuse me?” She said so loudly that a pigeon on the balcony across rushed to take flight. "First your cousin assumes she knows what I'm thinking, now you do the same. Does manipulation run in the family?"

"I don't understand how you can be so mad when she's right.” Johnny’s voice turned cold, his eyes cruel, “They're all justified, you know? You did do the things she said. You did ruin me from inside out."

"Then why are we here?" She screamed, her resolve slipping. She grabbed it before it disappeared completely, bringing her voice back down. "If your family are still angry about what happened, if you’re angry, then what are we doing? And before you say anything." She raised her hand to stop him from interrupting. "You are allowed to be as angry as you want. I hurt you so much and I understand that you can’t just forget that. I deserve your anger. What I don’t deserve is you treating me like this. And you don’t deserve to be with someone who makes you so miserable. If you're this angry then you simply cannot love me.”

"Now you're the one reading my mind." He spoke, immediately recoiling into his indignation.

“Don’t deflect!” She snapped. “You're lying to yourself if you think you do. Because that amount of hostility borders on disgust. You hate me so much that you will stand aside while someone insults me like that. For something you did, Johnny!" Her eyes welled up again and she had to turn away.

(Y/N) hated that after a certain threshold, her anger always gave way to tears. She hated it because, on more than one occasion, Johnny had accused her of using her tears to win arguments. She hated the accusation because she had never intended to win any arguments with him, she knew it was impossible. All she wanted was to explain her side of it.

“What did I do?” Johnny frowned, taking a step closer to invade her personal space.

“Why didn’t you tell them that you got the jewllery yourself? Did I ask you for it? Why didn’t you tell them that I told you I didn’t want it? Why didn’t you tell them what you told me?” She shoved him away, discomfitted by being this close to his overbearing presence. Johnny had the dreadful habit of towering close to her during arguments.

After a long moment of saying nothing, of just staring her down, Johnny sighed. “I just don’t want us to fight.” He came closer to her in an attempt to touch her.

His words made her see red in a way that felt dangerous. She shoved him again, harder than she expected. He must not have expected it either, because surprise filled his eyes as he lost his balance. There was an unmistakable sound of flower pots shattering, but (Y/N) was already shoving the balcony door open. She froze, turning to look back at him.

"Are you hurt?" She stepped towards him. But Johnny stood up immediately and walked around her, talking quick strides towards the door without once looking back.

She burned from head to toe, a mix of anger and mortification. He left before her, leaving her to walk out by herself. With a hesitant gait, she walked across the now crowded foyer. They all looked away, pretending they hadn’t witnessed the quarrel from the other side of the glass doors. But the side glances confirmed her suspicions. They blamed her. They saw her outburst, and saw her push him to the ground. What they didn’t hear was the actual words. But she doubted that would make a difference.

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