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write-r-die · 3 years

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Prisoner - Part 14

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

This chapter sucks but it’s about to get super good!

Thomasin went straight to church in the morning to confess. She liked and trusted Elaine, but she wasn’t comfortable sharing her innermost thoughts with her yet, especially since her daughter was likely to eavesdrop.

Not that she particularly trusted William’s priest to keep her confidence, especially considering what she planned to confess.

Her conversation with Charlie pricked at her mind like a sewing needle hidden in a bed might prick at her body.

Thomasin lowered herself to her knees and made the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” It was the custom to confess at least once a month, but the past year’s events had altered everyone’s routines.

“What are your sins, daughter?”

“I have been unkind. I have blasphemed. I have not loved my neighbors. I have not kept the Sabbath day. I have been . . . amorous.” These were mostly the same sins as usual, but the amorousness was a new addition thanks to that week she spent in Henry’s lap. “That’s all I can remember.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked the priest.

Thomasin took a deep breath. “No. I have not yet - that is, I’m considering another sin. You won’t betray my confidence, Father, will you? That must surely be a sin. Is it not?”

“It is. No, child, I won’t betray your confidence and share your secrets. What is this sin you consider?”

“I’m thinking of . . . lying . . . to the king.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the curtain. “Explain.”

All at once, Thomasin’s story came rushing out starting with the night the Cavills took her prisoner to Charlie’s idea that she lie to the king about her virginity. “And I know I mustn’t bear false witness against my neighbor, but I am not bearing false witness against my neighbor, only myself. You see?”

The priest was silent for a long time. “Would it truly be so bad to marry Lawrence?”

“Yes!” He drove his wife to commit self-murder. Didn’t he? He didn’t seem actively cruel. Did he truly become so angry that he beat his wife until she lost the child in her belly? It seemed to Thomasin that he couldn’t be bothered to do such a thing, that he didn’t feel anything strongly enough to act in such a way – to act at all, really.

“I think so,” Thomasin amended. “I can’t be sure. But it cannot be good.” Of that, she was quite certain.

“Is that the only reason you don’t wish to marry him?” asked the priest.

“There’s Henry, too, of course.” She swallowed hard. “I cannot bear the thought of Henry being with someone else.” The words stuck in her dry throat like fish bones. Lord. That was the first time she’d admitted it. It was painfully true. The idea of Henry bedding another woman, her bearing his children – it made her sick to her stomach.

The priest sighed. “It is never easy to follow God’s laws. We all must make sacrifices to enter His Kingdom, for the road to Heaven is narrow and steep.”

“You think I ought to marry Lawrence? Don’t you know what happened to his last wife?”

“Seek solace in the spiritual world. Devote yourself to God. It is through Him that you will find comfort and joy.”

Thomasin had to literally bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Wouldn’t God want His children to be happy? Didn’t He want Lawrence to be punished?

The priest told her to recite certain prayers to atone for her sins. She thanked him as graciously as possible and nearly stomped out of the chapel.

She was being childish, she knew, but she could not help it. Most girls were married off at fourteen to men they did not know. She was some twenty years old and unwed. She spent her life being coddled and guarded by her father. And now she was a piece of chattel to be traded by men who did not know her or care for her wellbeing.

She knew in her heart that Henry wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give his arm for her if she asked him to. But it might not be enough.

She believed that he was a finer swordsman that Lawrence – better than even King William, perhaps – but she also believed his honor made him vulnerable. Henry might be the finer warrior, but she suspected Lawrence had a great and dark mind. That could be just as dangerous. Sometimes more so.

Henry ordered her to let him deal with the matter. It was the only thing he ever truly asked of the woman he held so dearly and treated with such generosity and respect. But if it was in her power to preserve the life and limb of the man to whom she owed her own, how could she not? Surely he would understand. He must.

***

The next few days numbered among the most difficult in Thomasin’s life. She felt sick even after her courses passed; she’d worked herself into a fine state. She had an episode like this when she was young, around the time of her mother’s death. The healer, a monk, called it hysteria. She’d been blessedly free of it since then – it didn’t even happen when her father got sick – but now it was back, and it would not go away.

One of the Saxon prisoners died – of what, Thomasin did not know – and two more pledged their loyalty to William, even though it meant giving up everything they owned, including their dignity. They made their pledge in front of the entire court just before supper.

Thomasin and Henry were seated at the table at opposite sides, one chair over from each other. They could steal glances at one another during the meal, but they could not speak. Thomasin supposed that was the point.

Lawrence had taken to sitting next to her most nights. They didn’t speak. Lawrence had ceased with the pleasantries after her comment about his last wife. He ignored her as much as possible, but he sneered whenever she spoke.

Thomasin understood that he didn’t want this any more than she did, but he needed a wife to produce heirs and Thomasin was a gift from the king. He couldn’t refuse. He did still get pleasure out of the arrangement, for seeing him with Thomasin upset Henry to the point where he could hardly hold back his anger. Between Henry’s jealousy and Thomasin’s feistiness, conquering her was sure to be excellent sport.

The Saxon knights came forward and fell to their knees before the king and his wife and made their pledges. The other Saxons in attendance – mostly women, but a handful of warriors and former nobles that pledged themselves to the Normans early on – showed a range of emotions. Some of the men applauded their brothers for being sensible; others appeared to be ashamed. Most of the women looked like the wanted the whole thing over and done with, especially Elaine, who knew most of the Saxon prisoners either from tending their wounds or meeting them at court before the Norman invasion.

Henry’s reaction was surprising. He glared at the trencher of food in front of him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as though he were the one being forced to swallow his pride. Thomasin made no effort to hide her concern, and neither did Charlie.

He, of course, knew about Cerdic’s presence in the dungeon, and he worried that Henry would allow his emotions to get the best of him. Frankly, he didn’t understand why Henry was so upset. He thought Cerdic was dead already; soon enough he would be. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for his part in the conquest. Thomasin had his head in knots.

During the applause that followed the oaths, Henry shoved away from the table and made a beeline for the main doors without offering any excuse or explanation.

Thomasin looked quizzically at Charlie, who sat directly across from her. He shook his head. She stood up and went after him anyway.

The large corridor was mostly empty, except for a young couple kissing deeply in a shadowed corner and a handful of female servants walking back and forth between the hall and the kitchens. They gossiped as they walked, paying no attention to those around them.

“Henry,” Thomasin called, scurrying over to him. He had his shoulder leaned against the wall and he was rubbing his face with his hand.

He looked up at the sound of Thomasin’s voice and gave a weary smile. “You should not have followed me,” Henry said, trying to sound stern; he just sounded tired. He caught sight of his ring hanging from the chain around Thomasin’s neck. He held it in his hand, still hanging from her neck, and smiled slightly.

“You followed me when I ran off in the woods,” she said. “I’m only returning the favor.”

“Or exacting your revenge,” Henry teased.

Thomasin shrugged her narrow shoulders and repeated Henry’s earlier words back to him. “It’s a matter of perspective.”

“This looks very fine on you,” Henry said of the ring.

“Will you have a pendant made for me like your brothers’ wives and your mother?”

“Patience,” he said teasingly. In fact, he had commissioned a jeweler shortly after arriving in London, though the piece’s production was delayed because Henry didn’t have his ring to show the jeweler. Instead, he had to provide the man with his shield so he could study the symbols painted on it. It wouldn’t be very pretty, he thought, but as long as it was recognizable it didn’t matter.

He knew better than to seek to borrow Charlie’s ring when he arrived. He would lend it to Henry if he asked him to, but he’d certainly put up a fuss about it.

And then he remembered the Saxon awaiting his death three floors below them.

Henry’s smile faltered.

“What’s wrong?” Thomasin murmured.

Seeing Cerdic, simply knowing that he was alive and nearby, upset Henry. As far as he could tell, the man was a boar, and it would be no great loss to the world for him to die. But it still bothered him.

Cerdic didn’t know about Henry’s relationship with Thomasin, her betrothal to Lawrence, or even that she was at court. He had no fondness for Thomasin, it seemed, and he would certainly not treat her with respect if they were wed, but he was still a living reminder of the life the Normans stole from her. That Henry stole from her. He sometimes felt that Thomasin was as much a prisoner as her former intended.

She cared for Henry, of course, but he wondered how much of her affection was true – true, in that it would still be there if she were free of Norman rule – if she had the option to return home to her father and go on living as she did before.

More than that, he worried how Thomasin would feel if she knew Cerdic was here. He swore Roger and Charlie to secrecy, of course. Lawrence didn’t know of his intended’s former relationship with the red-bearded prisoner – if he did, he would surely use that information to inflict pain.

“The Saxons . . .” Henry shook his head. “I’m so tired of all this fighting.”

Thomasin took a deep breath knowing she was about to start a fight. “Then why do you insist on fighting Lawrence?”

Henry’s nostrils flared in anger; he let the ring fall back into place. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” she said apologetically. She stepped closer as he started pacing in a circle, one hand on his hip as he rubbed his brow with the other. His hair, still short by Saxon standards, was a small pile of tumbling curls stacked atop his head. But he still looked so handsome. “I just . . . I’m just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I’m frightened! All right?!” How dare he make her say it out loud?

Henry stopped pacing. He tried to soften his features, but he was still stiff with nervousness. “It will be all right, Tom. Nothing will happen to you.”

“I don’t care about me!” she hissed. “I want to protect you just as much as you wish to protect me. Why won’t you let me?”

Henry was lost. “How?”

Kal let loose a warning bark that nearly made Thomasin jump. She hadn’t even realized he was in the hall with them. “Go,” she said to Henry. “I need a moment to compose myself.”

Henry slipped past her just as Lawrence came into view, carrying a goblet of wine in one hand and holding the other behind his back. Henry tensed his muscles so hard he nearly shook. Thomasin nodded silently to assure him that she was all right. Henry stomped back into the hall as Lawrence took a long drink from his goblet of wine.

“Would you like some?” he asked Thomasin.

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” He tapped his fingernail against the rim of the glass. “You remember the nobleman’s family that I put to death?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips again.

What sort of a question was that? “Yes.”

“Do you think they would’ve been better off alive, surrounded by lustful soldiers?” Lawrence asked calmly. “Do you think the baroness would be pleased to see her young daughters beaten and defiled in the same home where she was once mistress? It was a mercy killing in some ways.”

Thomasin was silent. She’d considered such questions for months after the Normans landed up until the night Henry lifted her out of her hiding place. She always concluded that she would rather be dead than passed around like a brood mare.

“You’d never have been so lucky. That would’ve been your fate if the king weren’t so set on bringing your brother to heel, which he clearly cannot, and if anyone but the Cavills had come for you, you would’ve been tied and beaten into submission and raped nightly, not carried about like a babe with your virtue intact.”

“I know that,” Thomasin snapped. What was his point? “Are you truly surprised that I might wish to marry someone who would treat me well? Someone I know would never raise a hand to me?”

“I won’t deny that I struck my wife on more than one occasion,” Lawrence said. “She came to me when she was fifteen years old. Still a child in need of discipline. You’re more intelligent, more mature, and I think you will know better than she did. I was not the source of all her troubles, as much as you might like to think so.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I dislike the way that you fawn over Henry and regard me as the most heinous of villains. You should be grateful for your good fortune. You’re betrothed to a man capable of mercy toward women.”

Beating his wife was mercy? He likely just meant that he wouldn’t take her against her will, and that was a great mercy indeed for women. Beating wasn’t so heinous, Thomasin supposed, but that didn’t mean she was all right with it.

“What do you care what I think?”

“I don’t. I care about whether or not my peers perceive me as weak, though, and I won’t have a wife who runs after another man anytime he frowns.” His voice remained even but his whole face had gone bright red with anger. “We’re to be wed next week. Once you are mine, I won’t tolerate such behavior. A wife obeys her husband in all things; you will not embarrass me by fawning over a weakling. Should you continue to do so, I won’t hesitate to show you my displeasure. Am I clear?”

The calm with which he spoke was unsettling. God’s truth, Thomasin would have felt better if he shouted.

Thomasin dipped her head. “I understand, my lord.”

Lawrence’s face returned to its normal color and a smile bloomed across his face. “Good.” He gave Thomasin a peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

She didn’t notice Elaine and her daughter standing nearby until Elaine called out to her. “Thomasin?” She scurried over to her friend. “Are you all right?” Thomasin swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. “Here. Come with me.” She released her grip on Mercia to pull Thomasin around a corner for greater privacy, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “What’s happened?”

Thomasin didn’t realize all the color was gone from her face or that she was quaking like a leaf. “I’m fine.”

“Mamma?” Mercia said.

“A moment, my love,” her mother told her. “She was falling asleep at the table; I was leaving to put her to bed,” she explained to Thomasin. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation.”

“I don’t care about that,” Thomasin said, shaking her head.

“I didn’t hear anything clearly,” Elaine said over her. “I only saw that he was talking to you and the look on your face.”

Mercia wasn’t paying attention to what the women were saying, she only saw the sadness in Thomasin’s eyes. “Why you crying?” she asked, eyebrows knit together. Thomasin noticed for the first time how cherubic the child appeared.

“I’m not crying.” Thomasin honestly didn’t think she was. And she wasn’t really, in that there were no tears, but she certainly looked distressed.

The child wouldn’t accept the non-explanation. “Mamma, why she crying?”

Elaine released her friend’s hands and crouched to look her daughter in the eye. “Go back inside, please. Lady Thomasin and I are speaking. I’ll take you to bed just as soon as we’ve finished.”

“But she sad!” Mercia objected. She looked around. “Where Bear? Bear make you happy. I go find!” She was still upset with Kal for assaulting Batty, but she trusted in his ability to bring joy to others.

“No, no, that’s all right,” Thomasin said with a sniffle. “I don’t want to bother him.” The last thing she needed was for Henry to be involved.

Mercia frowned for a moment before thrusting her doll up toward Thomasin’s face. “Take,” she commanded. “Batty make you feel better.”

Thomasin swallowed again and reached out numb fingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she held a doll. “Thank you.”

“Not for always,” Mercia said, holding up a finger. “You keep just until you feel better.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Elaine and Mercia walked Thomasin back to her room. Elaine gave Etheldreda some instructions. “Mercia, can Lady Thomasin borrow some of Batty’s magic?”

“Just a little bit,” Mercia agreed.

Elaine smiled in thanks. She tore the doll open just enough to pull out some of the dried lavender, which she instructed Etheldreda to put in hot water for Thomasin to drink. “It will keep you from getting upset. I’ll send along some more herbs to help you rest. And more of Batty’s magic,” she assured her daughter. She turned back to Thomasin. “It won’t seem so bad in the morning. A good night’s sleep always helps.”

“I don’t think I can shut my eyes,” Thomasin said.

Elaine smirked. “Sleeping drafts are my specialty.” She didn’t mention that the drafts were the only thing that kept her from going mad when the Normans arrived. Without them, she’d spend all night staring up at the ceiling, clutching her daughter to her chest, praying for mercy from God and the invaders both.

She slipped away to put Mercia to sleep while Etheldreda prepared Thomasin for bed she sent a servant back with a pack of herbs for Etheldreda to make a sleeping draft and a handful of lavender to replace Batty’s stuffing.

Thomasin watched the fire flicker until the draft was ready. Etheldreda watched her drink, ensuring she drained every drop. Thomasin wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.

“Lie down,” said Etheldreda.

Thomasin shuffled down in the bed as her maid drew the covers over her. “Etheldreda, have you ever been married?”

She nodded. “Twice.”

“Did you love your husbands?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did they ever beat you?”

The old woman frowned. “Peasant women can be lucky on occasion. Sometimes we get to choose our husbands.” She tucked Batty under the covers beside Thomasin. “Shut your eyes and rest.”

“I don’t feel tired,” Thomasin said skeptically. She was asleep moments later.

Thomasin woke around noon the following day. She was still in a daze, so she decided to keep to her rooms for the day. She’d go visit Henry once she was feeling better.

Etheldreda drew her a steaming bath to ease her into the waking world. She washed and brushed her mistress’s hair, as there was too much of it for Thomasin to manage on her own. She told little stories about her daughters and granddaughters. She had sons, too, Thomasin thought, but she didn’t talk about them. Thomasin guessed they were killed in the war.

A servant dropped off some bread and cheese so Etheldreda and Thomasin did not need to leave the room for their nooning meal. Thomasin did feel better, she thought as Etheldreda laced the back of her simple gown.

The servant had only just finished when someone pounded on the door so hard that it shook. “Thomasin!” It was Charlie’s voice.

She pulled the door open, knowing immediately that something bad had happened. “What is it?”

Charlie’s shoulders heaved as he breathed heavily; he’d clearly run from wherever he had been to Thomasin’s room. “Henry’s challenging Lawrence.”

“Today?”

“Now!” Charlie said. “If you want to help him, we must go.”

Thomasin didn’t even stop to put on her slippers. She ran alongside Charlie, damp hair loose and whipping around her. The people they passed looked at her like she’d gone mad. Maybe they thought she was drunk for presenting herself in public like that. Or a strumpet.

They finally reached the throne room.

Charlie shoved the doors open and Thomasin rushed inside. Henry had removed his glove and prepared to throw it down; Thomasin surged forward and managed to grab it out of his hand before he could and careened toward the dais and the king.

She fell so heavily on her knees that she scraped the skin. She’d have awful bruises tomorrow. It didn’t matter. She stared up at the king with enormous eyes. “Your grace, they can’t fight,” she gasped. “Please don’t let them fight.”

“Thomasin,” Henry snarled.

“There’s no need for them to fight,” Thomasin said over him. She refused to turn and look at him.

William raised an eyebrow. “No need? Does this mean you’ll marry Lawrence willingly?”

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was far too harsh but she prayed William would excuse her given the circumstances. “But – I cannot be his wife. Not truly.”

William asked, “Why?”

Oh, God help her. This stupid, stupid girl. Charlie’s plan might not work but she at least had to try.

“Because. Because I’m not – I’m – I’m not a virgin!”

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good-rwbyaus · 3 years

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Destiny - [ Epilogue : Oscar ] - mod lilac:

[ Part 1: Pyrrha ] [ Part 2: Jaune ]

Oscar visits the final resting place of Pyrrha and Jaune.

// An epilogue for Destiny. It’s more or less a monologue from Oscar, but it’s been demanding to be written for weeks now before I move onto another project. I hope you enjoy the final piece.

=============================================

Dark stormy clouds hovered over the Emerald Forest, a torrent of rain spilling into the trees. A green-clad figure slogged slowly though the grounds, heading for a specific destination. Guilt shone on his face.

----

Shielded from the storm outside, a pair of angel statues carved in marble stood in the small shrine. On the altar was a small picture frame where a young knightly blond and a young amazon-like redhead grinned into the camera.

“Sorry I’m late, Jaune,” Oscar said quietly as he wiped the droplets from his hair.

“Ahh, sorry. Forgot to introduce myself,” Oscar chuckled apologetically, “I’m Oscar Pine, Miss Nikos. And there might still be a little bit of Ozpin left in here, but...” He grinned before sighing, “it’s probably just me now.”

“I sorta know you because I have Ozpin’s memories, but I wish I could’ve met you,” Oscar said with a smile, “I wanted to see the person who my best friend admired so much.”

“As for you, Jaune, we need no introductions,” he smiled, a hint of pain in the gesture. His gaze locked onto the grave with Jaune’s name on it before turning his head to stare at the forest around him.

“Nora really chose a nice place,” Oscar admired, “I guess it’s true what they say, a quest ends at its beginning - suppose that must be doubly true for a knight.” He brushed off some dirt from the grass before he sat down cross-legged. Giving the scenery one last lookover, he smiled mischievously, “From what I recall from Ozpin’s memories though, you probably didn’t enjoy your experience here at the time.”

“Whooosh.” He swung his hand dramatically towards the ceiling.

“Haha,” he smiled, “I guess you’re tired of me embarrassing you in front of your significant other, even though she probably knows all this given she nailed you to the tree that your grave’s leaning on.”

“You probably already heard it from everybody else, so I’ll just go over the highpoints,” Oscar continued as he grinned. “We won. We beat Salem.”

“All of us lived for the most part,” Oscar paused before shaking his head, “Not to say any of us died. It’s just - well it’s complicated. Lemme give you the good news first.”

“Nora and Ren got married. They’re expecting a child anytime soon,” Oscar clapped in excitement, “And asked the doctors not to tell them the gender. They want it to be a surprise.”

“Yang and Blake are going to get married too. At least after their dads get the testosterone out of their system. I think they secretly enjoy arguing about how “your daughter isn’t good enough for mine” and boisterously telling embarrassing stories in front of their kids. Yang’s threatening to elope, and Blake’s mom is encouraging her.”

“Unc- I mean, Qr-. You know what I’m going to call him Uncle Qrow, “ Oscar said, “He’s family to everyone. He probably kept us from falling apart after you died. Told us not to blame ourselves. You brought Cinder down with you because you loved us all. You did what you did, just as we would’ve done for you.”

He sniffled.

“Ah, sorry. I...Let’s just wait. I’ll tell you the reason why I came here later. Let’s just enjoy this moment.” A pained smile lingered on his lips, “Anyway...”

“Qrow gave us the choice to leave the group with no questions asked- he felt it was the right thing to do after what happened. You fought to keep us safe; it’s only right that we were given that choice.”

“No one took him up on his offer,” he smiled with a bit of pride.

“A bit of unpleasantness did happen after we used the Relic of Knowledge,” Oscar rubbed his cheek, “But it’s all water under the bridge now.”

“Glynda is now the Headmistress of Beacon. Well, will be once all the rubble is cleaned up. She and James are an item now. Haha. That’s one unlikely couple right there. They’ll argue until their voices become hoarse and their faces turn red, but if someone insults one of them within earshot of the other... Well, some soldier made the mistake of trying to kiss up to James by insulting Glynda. And now he’s probably still running laps around Mantle.”

The smile on his face slowly turned into a grimace, the guilt that’d been weighing him down returning once more.

“I....I admit that I came here not just to catch you up on things,” Oscar hesitatingly said. His hand waved, and four items, glowing ethereally with power, flickered into existence in front of him.

Lamp, Crown, Staff, Sword.

Knowledge, Choice, Creation, Destruction.

“It’s funny. Everyone thought they disappeared after Ruby came back to life,” he whispered as he watched the Relics revolve around him, “She sacrificed herself to save the people of Mantle and Atlas - when our fight between Salem and her forces dropped Atlas out of the sky.”

“Even with the knowledge that she would die using the combined power of the Relics, she still chose her own destruction so that others may live. Thus, the most mysterious of the relics - Creation - returned her to us.”

“Not many people realized that a goddess descended that day. Only Salem and I knew, for we were the only ones who’ve ever been in the presence of a god.

“When Ruby spoke after becoming a goddess, her words became edict. And with a single utterance, she vanquished Salem. Begone,” he said, eyes glazed in remembrance of that moment, “One word, nothing else. Time stopped for everyone but a goddess, myself, and a disintegrating Salem trying to resist her fate.”

“...Salem really hated Ozma. It’s what kept her alive all this time,” Oscar sighed, “Magic and spells fade, even those cast by a god.”

“The immortality given to Salem was never meant to last,” he said softly, “But when the God of Light gave Ozma his orders, I don’t think the God realized how much it would make Salem hate the man to the point where she would literally defy death to ruin everything Ozma wanted to protect.”

“I don’t quite know what Ruby did to separate Ozpin from me, but the last thing I remember was Ozpin’s shade walking over to Salem. I remember bits of yelling and crying, but after the man left my head, I think I was frozen in time like the rest. No longer god-touched, I guess. By the time we all came to, both Ozpin and Salem were turning into motes of light.”

“Despite how much misery Salem gave us, I hope she found peace. Ozma too,” he sighed.

“As for Ruby, she’s been off since that day. Though she no longer has that divine power, she seems more ethereal, more disconnected from the world,” Oscar sighed, “As if she’d leave us at any time. Disappear and vanish.”

Oscar then chuckled, “luckily, we have two dorks Weiss and Penny, originally at odds with each other for taking up too much of Ruby’s attention, now working together to keep Ruby grounded...so I think Ruby will be okay.”

“Oh yeah, Penny never actually died, Pyrrha. They were able to put her core - the essence of her soul - into a new body, so I hope you rest more peacefully knowing that.”

“In any case, everyone’s doing okay... but you two.”

He slouched over, palming his face. “Ugh, sorry. I guess I keep on delaying the inevitable. I’ll tell you why I’m here right now.”

“After the Relics found their way over to me, I wondered... if the Relics could produce a God, could it turn back time to save you? So I asked the Relic of Knowledge...”

“And Jinn said yes. That the Relics could send back a single soul without their future memories or skills - only a faint impression without any details, just a whisper of destiny - back to a very specific point in time, a couple hours before the Fall of Beacon.”

“After getting over my shock, I naturally asked about a future where you lived,” Oscar looked away from Jaune’s grave, “and that future was bleak. In the past I saw through Jinn, we went after the Relic of Creation after Knowledge. And as a result, Atlas fell upon Mantle and destroyed the entire Kingdom. Out of hundreds of thousands of people, only we and the rest of the team survived, and it was only because of Raven’s aid.”

“It was completely different from what actually happened to us. After you sacrificed yourself to kill Cinder, you caused Emerald to become the Fall Maiden. And somehow that caused me to get kidnapped by Mercury, allowing me to convince them both that staying with Salem will only lead to more pain for both of them - and they left her for us. Learning Salem’s future plans through Emerald, we went after the Relic of Destruction in Vacuo instead and then returned to the Emerald Forest with all the chess pieces to obtain the Relic of Choice - And then we had our showdown at Atlas.”

Oscar uneasily shifted his foot on the ground, now completely unable to look at the grave in front of him, “I’m not sure how it dawned on me to ask my last question. Maybe it’s because Jinn only showed me a future instead of the numerous possibilities it should’ve been, but...”

“I asked if I turned back the clock before.”

“And Jinn said I did.”

“I think,” Oscar hesitated before continuing, “I must’ve sent you back after almost everyone died beating Salem in the past Jinn showed. I don’t think it could’ve been anyone else because only you acted differently compared to how events should’ve turned out - so...”

“I'm the one responsible for your death, Jaune,” he choked out, “Even if it wasn’t actually me; I still can’t help but feel that way, so I’m trying to figure out if you would want me to right my wrong or be content with the future you’ve sacrificed yourself for.”

“Would you resent me if I tried? To undo everything you’ve strived to do. Or would you resent me if I left you for dead - to not even try?”

“I admit I don’t think I could do any better - I know I probably should be content, but not knowing hurts. You are literally my best friend - a brother. So please..."

“Just give me a sign.”

He bowed his head down, tears falling - conflicted between his sense of duty to the world he lived and his deepest bond of friendship.

Oscar paused as he heard something - or rather the absent of something. The torrent of rain that’s been present had slowed to a stop. Gazing outside, Oscar gasped quietly as he watched the shadows from the overhead clouds quickly giving way to rays of sunlight.

Running outside, the green-clad boy got to witness the dark clouds visibly fade into the blues of the sky, leaving only sunlight and the beauty of the Emerald Forest behind.

Feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, Oscar whispered quietly, “Is this... your answer?”

He heard no response, but something in his heart settled in that moment. A sense of peace. Like he’d been forgiven. That he need not carry his burden any longer.

Oscar turned back to the shrine and smiled gratefully.

“...Thank you. I’ll make sure to make the most of the future you’ve let us have.

“Both of you can rest easy. I’ll be the one to protect everyone now.”

“We’ll see you when our time comes.”

#rwby au #rwby fic #oscar pine #ruby rose #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #mod lilac #rwby

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ashisbaeee · 5 years

Text

Are You Happy?

A/N: while planning out chapter 10 for Her, this idea came to mind. I didn’t want to wait til the end of the series to post it, so here you go! haha. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing this for you all. sorry for any errors. as always, your feedback is greatly appreciated. enjoy💗

2.3k words(as you can see I got carried away😬)

italics are Y/N’s thoughts

___________________________

You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that now resided in the pit of your stomach. Something was up and you couldn’t lay a finger on what it was exactly. Maybe it was the amount of stress that you’ve been dealing with for quite some time due to the fact of being short-staffed for a couple weeks now; everyone scrambling about in your unit, their bodies running on a few hours of sleep and consuming rather dangerous amounts of caffeine. Stress and work loads were through the roof, while morale ran on the opposite side of the spectrum. Every single one of your fellow coworkers trying their absolute bests to push through and do their assignments for the day. Maybe that was the probable cause of your uneasiness. Who knows, because you sure as hell weren’t. Due to your long (and I mean long) long hours spent at work, you kind of neglected everything else. You were so focused on your job that you put everything-your life, your family, your friends, and last but not least your boyfriend, Tom on the back burner. They have all in some way became an afterthought, as terrible as that sounds.

But it could also be your current relationship with Tom that has you feeling this way. If you were being honest, you can’t remember the last time you guys did something together. It had been a few weeks or so since you guys had last gone out on a date. Tonight, you were going to change all that; after coming home from work you decided that you were going to spend some much needed quality time with him. Even if it ends up just being you both cuddled on the couch as a movie played-just enjoying being in each other’s company and feeling the heat of his body against yours as he lazily ran his fingers through your hair like you liked as you returned the favor and drew imaginary shapes and lines on his arm and chest, or if you did something totally different and you guys cooked dinner together. Literally anything, you didn’t care what the activity was, as long as you were together spending time, that’s all you wanted.

During your break, you sent him a text asking if he wanted to eat something specific for dinner or if he was open to do something when you got home from work. About an hour or so after hitting ‘send’ you felt your phone buzz. Sure enough, it was your man. He replied saying he was open to do anything not before saying that he’d be a little late in coming home, about 45 minutes after you’ve arrived home since he and the boys had gone out to the golf course.

7pm couldn’t come any sooner. After giving report to the night shift nurses, you hurriedly ran to the locker room to grab your belongings and headed out the door. As soon as you got to your car, you took your phone out to text him.

Y/N: Hey babe. I am on my way home. Would you like me to pick something up for dinner? Or do ya wanna cook something up together?

Tom🥰♥️: hey, I don’t care. Anything sounds good to me. The guys and I are on our way home. Mind if they join us?

Anything. That doesn’t make things easy! I was kinda hoping you’d give me options so it would make things a bit easier. What would they like? Pizza? Chinese? Italian? I was kinda hoping it just be us two, but I guess they can come over for a while. I mean it has been a while since I had last seen them anyways. So I guess it’ll be nice to catch up for a bit. Maybe tomorrow we’ll spend time together, just the two of us. I wonder if I should ask if they’d like me to pick up some beer.

Y/N: no, of course I don’t mind. It’d be nice to catch up with them. does pizza sound ok? do you want me to get beer?

Tom🥰♥️: yeah that’s fine.. get pepperoni, Hawaiian and plain. we already got the beer.

Is it me or does he seem angry? Annoyed maybe? There’s definitely some kind of tone to these texts. Our conversation all day has been dry. This isn’t really like him. This is not his usual texts. I guess I’ll have to see when I get home. Let me be wrong, please.

Y/N: ok. Got it. I’ll see you soon. I love you.

Tom🥰♥️: k, see u

Well damn, okay. He hit me with the ‘K’ response. There is definitely something wrong. He didn’t even say ‘I love you back’. He ALWAYS says it. Did I forget something? An important day? His birthday? Someone in his family’s birthday? Our anniversary? Or did I say something? Did I do or did not do something, did I say something for him to act this way towards me? Ugh, I guess I’ll find out sure enough once I get home.

During your drive home you replayed everything. You frantically looked through your calendar to see if in fact you had unknowingly missed an important event, but there was no indication of anything. From what you could remember, there was nothing that you said or an event that you had missed. nothing , absolutely nothing came to mind as your mind tried to conjure up a plausible reason for his new found coldness.

As you pulled into your driveway, you saw Haz’s car, signaling they were all home. As aforementioned earlier, Tom said they’d arrive some time after you but seeing as you stopped to pick up the pizzas, they managed to get home before you. Miraculously, with everything you were holding, you managed to open the front door. As soon as the guys were aware of your struggle, Sam jumped up from his seat on the couch to lend a hand. Once he set the boxes of pizzas on the coffee table, be brought you in to give you a hug, not before asking how you were doing and stating how he and the rest of the family had missed you dearly. One by one the rest of the squad, Haz, Harry, and Tuwaine and greeted you and briefly hugged you. Tom was the last one. He gave you a short smile(a pretty fake one) before he hugged you and kissed your forehead. Your forehead for crying out loud. It wasn’t like you guys never showed any PDA in front of the guys but this, this was way out of character for him. There was clearly something bothering him, and you were going to make it your mission to find out what it is. It would have to be delayed a bit since you had no intentions of causing a scene with all the guys here.

You quickly went into the kitchen to grab plates and napkins as well as a bottle of water for you. Once you arrived back into the living room, you passed each one a plate as you all began to eat. During dinner, you managed to catch up with everyone. All the lads telling you what was new with them and updating the group with whatever was new on your end, and venting about work. They had then proceeded to ask you when you’d be able to take time off of work so that collectively y’all would do something. They lads sharing that they have all missed you dearly. You had missed them too. You told them that you’d talk with your manager the next time you were scheduled to work to see when that would be; hoping it was sooner rather than later. The stress was really taking its toll on you.

Hours passed and many many laughs later, the lads decided it was time to call it a night. You took a look at you phone-2:30am. Everyone not really wanting the night to end. This was long overdue. During your laughs and when one told a funny story or was just talking about something, your eyes always found your way to Tom. Usually, he’d lock eyes with you. But not this time. This time around, he made eye contact with everyone BUT you. Whenever you spoke or if someone had asked you a question, his eyes went straight to the floor. Whatever was there was way more interesting than you. You took in his appearance; he seemed rather tense, as if he was on guard or something. And you kept replaying your whole interaction when you came home. How when you looked into his eyes, his eyes looked different. It appeared to be more dull, there was no sparkle or glimmer in his eyes. And as you sat where you were and indeed looked over at his direction and watch his facial expressions, it validated that there seemed to be no sparkle-no joy to be found. Something was off with him.

Wow, it’s half past 2? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. This was nice. It was amazing to unwind and just chill with friends. Oh how I’ve missed this.

You bid the guys good night as you went on to clear the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles that littered the living area. Once all was said and done, you went upstairs to your shared bedroom.

As you laid in bed, you took this time to catch up with your man.

You sat up, your head against the headboard as you initiated the conversation.

“Hey babe, how was your day? I’ve missed you”

“It was fine. Yeah missed you too”

“Tom, can you please look at me?”

“I’m trying to sleep, Y/N”

“Just for a second, please?” you shamelessly begged.

With a deep sigh, he finally complied to your wish.

“Yes?”

Sure enough, it was the same lifeless stare.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine”

“You say you’re fine, but more importantly are we fine? Because you seem a bit distant. Did I do or not do something? I know I have been so focused with work and all but did I forget something? An important date? I looked at my calendar and I didn’t see any events scheduled. Or did I say something? Can you please talk to me and let me know what I did wrong? Because I know something’s on your mind and I would like to try and help you. Y’know we can talk about anything, right?”

Silence. Absolute silence. And it was eating you alive, absolutely killing you. This dead air between your bodies was unbearable.

“Tom?”

“Just thinking is all”

“Thinking about?”

“About us. Where we stand”

S I L E N C E

He sighs again before continuing on.

“Just how things changed between us”

“What changed between us? Besides us not really spending as much time together?”

“I-I uh, I uhm, I don’t know”

“A-are you not happy? Are you not happy in this relationship? Do I not make you happy anymore? Tom, please. I’m begging you, please talk to me. Can you please let me know how things have changed between us? Is there someone else?”

“No, there’s no one else. I, I don’t know. I mean yeah, I was before. I was happy, uh, I think I’m happy. I don’t know. I guess you being busy and us not being able to spend time got me thinking is all”

He’s not happy? What? He was happy before but doesn’t know if he is now? he doesn’t know? He’s been thinking? Of what? How can he say this all cool and nonchalantly?

“Y-you-you’re not happy?” your choked response pierced the air. As you shamelessly started to break down and dissolve into tears. Not caring how you would look, not even bothering to wipe the ceaseless tears that fell from your cheeks, to your sweater and ultimately unto the blanket.

He sat across from you in bed as he watched your face contort in this newfound pain. He hated seeing you cry. His actions may not have shown it, but this was painful for him too.This was pain on a whole different level. This pain affected you mentally, physically and emotionally. He sat in silence. I mean, what does one say to that? How does one respond?

As you cried, you felt his eyes on you. You dared not look in his eyes. As you bawled your eyes out, a part of you hoped that he would say something, anything. Anything to break this unbearable situation. But nothing.

His lack of response was in fact a response. You’ve got your answer. Message received, Tom.

With that, you got up and walked to your closet. You pulled out a duffel bag as you haphazardly threw your clothes in it.

He watched you intently as you stuffed your bag. Still not saying a word.

Once you were done, you turned your body to talk to him, eyes glued to your beige colored carpet.

“I know work has been crazy but never would I have thought that it would lead to this. If you aren’t happy being with me, who am I to stop you from finding your ultimate happiness? I’m not cruel and evil; I would never do that to you. That would be so selfish of me to do so. You have every right to be happy. You truly deserve to be happy and everything more. I am sorry for wasting your time and I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to do so. I want you to be happy, even if that means us not being together. What a ride this has been. So go out there, go out into the world and find that person that truly makes you happy. Someone that brings you nothing but joy. Take care of yourself, Tom” you murmured as you slung the duffel bag straps on your shoulders and proceeded your way down the stairs and out the door. Out of his life forever.

___________________________

tagging some mutuals: @hollandroos @parkeret @gab-spidey @roses-hxlland @unholyholland @sleepybesson @moonlightom @peterpcrker @hollandinq @ihrielloyer @spideybitey18 @jackiehollanderr

#tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

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all-of-the-imagines-for-eve · 6 years

Text

Fix You ~ Sweet Pea (Part One)

A/n: Little Sweet Pea fluff to help get my mental mojo jamming again so I can get over this bump in the road and finish Tattoo. Enjoy and sorry for the super long delay! I’m also sorry I can never just do one part? Like, fuck, wow.

Word Count: 3200+

When you try your best, but you don't succeed. When you get what you want, but not what you need. When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep- Stuck in reverse...

Stepping back in surprise, I looked at up at the blonde woman before me in utter shock. "I've... done... everything you asked," I whispered. My eyes watered as she scoffed, shaking her head.

The woman smirked. "I already told you, sweets. You're not going to make it here. You'll always be scum. Don't ever forget it." And then she turned around and walked away and I sat there, the entire diner looking at me. A part of them looked at me in pity; a part looked at me with cruel smiles of sick satisfaction painted on their faces; some didn't look at all, staring at their food and pretending not to have heard all of what just happened while they over focused on their food. Swallowing, I turned around and moved to the door to leave.

It felt like I was moving through honey, the world seeming to slow and stretch and the moment of absolute horror stretched on mercilessly. Even when I was out of the diner, I still felt my eyes stay wide and on my feet, my body rigid and awkward and my chest constricted. My throat was clogged as well and my hands shook as my head swam with one word over and over again.

Scum. Scum. Scum. Scum.

A horn honked and I finally looked up, blinking as I stared at the person driving the car that had swerved around the corner and screeched to a halt as I stepped out into the street without even realizing or noticing. We made eye contact and the anger on the woman's face turned into shock at my dead expression. We stared at each other for a solid five seconds before I looked away and kept walking. The car door opened though and I looked over slowly again to see that on the passenger's side, there was a girl that looked like the woman who had been driving. Younger but similar. Maybe her daughter.

The girl was blonde like the waitress, but her face was soft and inviting and her smile was warm and friendly. Her eyes were alive with life and those nuances made all of the difference. This girl I could trust. I didn't know how I knew, but I did. She approached me slowly, tilting her head, her mother's car still in the street. "Are you okay?"

I wanted to lie. I always lied. It wasn't hard for me to do. Usually I could conjure a fake smile that seemed real and the nasty words that were dripping with falsehood fell from my mouth with ease. "No." Today was different, though.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

We were still standing in the middle of the road and I was waiting for her to take my arm and guide me away or move to the sidewalk and expect me to follow as I subconsciously would. But she just stood there with me, and I really appreciated it. "I'm not new in town per say," I offered awkwardly. "I mean, I grew up in Riverdale. But, on the South Side. About three months ago my mom... became impossible to live with. So I've moved in with my dad, on the North Side. I was trying to get a job..." I looked back at Pop's, my stomach turning.

The girl reached out for my hand and I looked back at her at the feeling of contact. "What happened?"

A silent sigh rolled through me, dragging at my body. "The lady who runs it told me to get out. I told her about the cleaning jobs I used to do at the White Wyrm, kind of the only job I had back at home. It was all I could put on my resume. Said I was Serpent scum and told me to get out."

Shock hit the girl like a freight train and her head jarred. "Uh..." She didn't seem to know where to begin with that one. "Woman?" she finally managed.

Nodding, I tilted my head back towards Pop's. "The blonde. Missy."

Anger took over the girl's face. She looked at her mom, nodded, and then began walking towards Pop's. Still holding my hand, she simply dragged me after her. I stumbled to keep up, watching her mother drive away after shaking her head.

When we entered the joint, all the people who had been there before were still here. It seemed like at least some of them would have left by now, but no. The two of us walked in and they all looked over, eyes landing on the girl with a warm familiarity and then moving to me with a cascade of confusing emotions. Stress. Shock. Guilt. Confusion. Disgust. Anger. Fear. Curiosity.

Missy was cleaning a counter when the bell above the door went off. The older woman looked up. She saw the blonde girl - whose name I still didn't know - and her face broke into a smile. I was positioned just so that I wasn't yet noticed from where she stood. "Betty!" The woman gushed, putting her rag down on the counter. "What has you wound up, Dear? I bet a good sit down and a shake will-"

Betty - now I knew her name! - pulled me forward, lifting my hand as if I was a piece of evidence. Missy's smile instantly fell away and the tension in the room increased infinitely. Missy looked at me, suddenly nervous, and I was weirdly empowered by the presence of the girl I had quite literally JUST met. "I want to speak to the ONLY person allowed to turn her away," Betty snapped. "Where's Pop?"

That day, I got a job and a new friend.

Not long after that, Betty introduced me to Jughead. The two of us took up immediately, especially once I explained about my past a bit. When Jughead told me he was a Serpent, I told him about my minimal dealing with the gang. Just cleaning up after them for a bit of side cash, really. I usually kept my head down a work and school so very few Serpents if any at all knew my face well enough to place it with a name if asked. He wanted to test that theory and introduced me to his... associates. Toni and him were friends, but Fangs seemed to be passively pleased by his presence only. Sweetpea on the other hand openly detested the Jones boy.

After it was proven that none of them properly recognized me, the trio of long-time Serpents actually attempted to hang out with me more. When Riverdale North Side ended up being too peppy and bright for me, I ended up moving in with Jughead, promising jokingly that I'd keep it clean and regularly cook for the teenage boy. When FP came back, he didn't even acknowledge me as anything except part of the house.

So I guess, in a way, it was all thanks to a feisty blonde who believe that injustice should never be left alone that I now had a stable home, someone I considered a brother and his father who treated me like a daughter, and still managed to keep a proper job. Thanks to her that I had friends who would always have my back and a weirdly positive balance between the North and South Sides of Riverdale. Between my new family, friends, school, and work, it all seemed to come together into this unexpectedly tight knit community. I loved it.

What took everyone by surprise was how well I instantly connected with Sweet Pea.

It wasn't perfect, but it took maybe a week for us to become completely inseparable. He walked me everywhere. From home to school and between classes and from school to work and then from work to home and then repeat, every day. He sat next to me at lunch and we went back and forth with jokes and quips the entire time, cracking each other up. I helped him with homework and tutored him and stood up for him against shit heads who thought they knew and understood things they could never even begin to imagine. He never had a problem with me like he did Jughead. Something about me being too small and innocent and nice...

A few months after we became really close, things started to shift. He would carry my books or hug me more often. Touch me more in general. Legs or arms, brushing too often for it all to be accidental. Lingering hugs and kisses on the forehead or cheek or the back of the hand just to be dorks. Putting his arm around my shoulder all the time. Pulling me onto his lap any time there was even half a problem about where I would sit. And then it stepped up one night when he put his jacket around my shoulders, telling me to wear it because I looked cold. To spare his dignity at the overly obvious flirt, I discreetly took off my sweater so I wouldn't suffocate to death and put the jacket on.

Eventually Cheryl pointed out what we were both tip toeing around. "You know you're like totally into each other, right?"

Sweet Pea and I had exchanged a look and a shrug as he put his arm around me. "Yeah."

I'd smiled. "Hey, wanna date me, Sweets?"

"Stole my thunder!" He accused, acting mock offended. I'd never seen him not be fairly at ease - unless shit was going down and Pea got hard core and serious - but I'd heard that he was really edgy and angry and gruff before I'd come along and smoothed his edges. Think about him becoming this light, happy boy with me made me enjoy moments like all the more. I grinned as he put an arm around me, pulling me closer and planting his lips on my forehead. "I suppose I will though. I'm so boyfriend material."

And then, in the span of a few months, I'd gone from the girl that kept her head down as I avoided gangs and the trouble they caused, getting by and fending for myself, to a girl with a brother and a boyfriend and best friends- all who had my back until death did us part. And, in return, I was there for them too.

The meaning of having someone didn't really hit me until I told Sweet Pea about the story of how Betty and I met. We were sitting in his bed and he pulled me close, my back to his chest, and kissed the top of my head. It was early in the morning and I was emotional about how unnecessarily hard life was for people like us. "If anything like that ever happens again, I'll be there for you," he whispered.

"When," was all I said.

He shifted. "What?"

Looking up at him with a blank expression, I shrugged. "When it happens again."

His face grew very sad and then twisted with pain, getting more into an emotional agony. "When it happens, I'll be there for you."

And he was.

He was there for me when I busted my ass to get the partner I wanted in chemistry because I thought she was smart and hard working like I was, only to prove herself to be a bitch who enjoyed manipulating people and getting close to them only to expose their secrets. He was there for me when school and work combined got too much and I stumbled into his trailer - which at some point I had started coming to instead of the Jones' - and collapsed in his arms and he carried me to bed and I stared at the ceiling, unable to move or speak but also unable to fall asleep. He was there when I had nightmares about my mom's house and woke up screaming, or when I thought about the Ghoulies getting to me or losing him in the serious situations lurking just outside of our perfect bubble of warm safety and complete happiness. He was always there.

I had never had someone keep a promise so perfectly.

I found myself working harder, becoming better. Doing more and being there for him in every way he'd let me and more. Eventually we both found a good place in our relationship and it kind fo took off. We found a pattern and stuck to it.

And something magical began happening. All the piece of me that had forever been scattered and broken started to be collected. Days turned to weeks turned to months and suddenly Sweet Pea and I were telling each other we loved each other and he kissed me and I felt so safe and complete and... whole.

The impossible had happened.

I was happy. I was learning to get over all of the things that dragged me down. The anxiety and self doubt and insecurities and past that had wrecked me. It was all becoming meaningless and the future was wonderfully filled with shining hope.

He was... fixing me.

And the tears come streaming down your face. When you lose something you can't replace. When you love someone, but it goes to waste. Could it be worse?

We were fighting again.

It seemed that's all we did recently. Fight fight fight fight.

Fight about how between work and school and his gang involvement we had no time together anymore. Fighting about what to have for dinner or curfew or who I was hanging out with or who was lingering around him. Fighting about Fangs or Toni or Jughead or Betty or Cheryl or Veronica or Archie or Kevin. Fighting about how I had North and South Side friends. Fighting about how close I was with Jughead, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin when they were all morons who hated us and treated us like garbage. Fighting about whether or not to trust Jughead. Fighting about whether or not to trust Betty. Fighting about Archie and Reggie, who were usually pretty moronic and could be complete assholes but also had a good side that he just wouldn't see and I wouldn't give up on. Fighting about what I was was wearing or why he was gone all the time, coming back beat up and wrecked. Fighting fighting fighting fighting.

One night, Sweet Pea had had enough. "You know what if you have SUCH a problem with the way I lead my life, then maybe you shouldn't be apart of it."

Pain like I had never felt before flared in my chest but my response was to cover it with anger. Exhaustion and hurt like none other coursed through me and all I could manage to say was, "If the way you lead your life is more important than our relationship, then I don't WANT to be apart of it!"

For the first time in our relationship, Sweet Pea looked at me with raging anger and the same seriousness and hardness and roughness I was sure everyone had meant when they talked about how he was before me. "Fine then! Leave."

"Gladly!" I roared. "I'll be back for my stuff- in the morning." the words caught in my throat and Sweet Pea's face suddenly grew incredibly soft as his pain overwhelmed his anger. But I was still angry. I was still tired and emotionally physically exhausted from school and work and this fight that had taken up too much of my sleep already and had been taking up too much of my sleep for weeks now. I grabbed the sweater I had been wearing when I came in from the arm of the couch, where'd I'd put it when I'd taken it off. Then I turned and left, leaving Sweet Pea alone.

Unsure where to go for a second, I left the trailer, got far enough that Sweet Pea wouldn't be able to see me anymore, and then looked around. Only once I spotted the other familiar trailer did I realize my feet had taken me to the only place other than Sweetpea’s I had ever truly called home - the Jones' place.

Nerves filled my stomach as I approached the door at two in the morning, exhausted and finally lacking anger- which was quickly turning into agony that gathered in my eyes and threatened to spill over.

I think Sweet Pea and I had just broken up...

The door, to my surprise, opened. There stood a wary FP Jones, who instantly went into soft, protective dad mode when he saw my pre-crying state. "Y/n?" he whispered, eyes wide with worry. "Come in, come on." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me inside before closing the door. Like a moron I started crying as images and memories flashed through my brain because Sweet Pea used to do that all the time.

I was a pathetic mess.

That thought made my cry harder.

Attempting to stay quiet, I covered my mouth to muffle my sobs, but either Jughead was a light sleeper, he had been awake, I was louder than I thought because suddenly Jughead was in front of me, his concerned eyes matching the expression his dad still wore. FP sat to one side of me as Jug sat to the other. The younger Jones put an around around my waist, pulling me against him. I rested my head on his shoulder, curling into his side as I sobbed hysterically. I dropped my hand and just let it all out. It was pointless to try and muffle it or cover it now.

The insanity of the constant business and lack of sleep. The fear and frustration of losing Sweet Pea but also fighting with him all the time about every little damned thing. The thought that maybe it was a good thing we'd broken up. Wondering if we really had broken up? If it was official. It was all getting to me.

A shocking realization made it hard to breathe and finally I managed to stop crying long enough to wheeze out, "Jug, I... I really love him." We'd said it before and I knew for a while, but now it really hit me. When I was mad and hurt and all I craved was him. When I wasn't busy and he wasn't readily available. When we weren't in a good place and everything was falling apart. When it wasn't good and easy and simple. I still loved him. I loved him when I wanted to hate him. I loved him when I was mad at him and I wanted him when the very sight of his face made me want to start throwing fists. The times when I hated him so much because he had so much of me that he could break and hurt me so easily. Without trying. Without meaning to. I had spent nights imagining a future where we were married and had started a family and vowed to grow old together.

I loved him with a love that never really went away or faded or dimmed. Only changed. The kind that killed you slowly by giving you so much life you overloaded. The kind that drove you crazy and made you jump off of metaphorical - and very literal - cliffs. The kind that made you reckless and irrational. The kind that made you strong and stand straighter and the kind that broke you down until you were nothing. The kind that exposed and then protected you. The kind that changed you. The kind that lasted and stuck in your mind and heart and the very engravings in your soul, forever. The kind that made men become slaves to alcohol and women subject to endless tears. The kind that prompted overwhelmingly passionate poems and songs and exclamations. I LOVED him.

With shaking hands, I added, "I love him with all of me that I will ever have to love with. And it was all for nothing. I'm going to lose him."

Jughead looked at me a long time. He didn’t have an questions anymore, and maybe the easy way he recognized that Sweetpea and I were falling apart was even worse than having to explain everything that happened. It was even worse when he seemed broken for me, only managed to offer a weak, “I'm sorry."

That was when I knew for sure. Jughead didn't even try to think of something to say to make any of it better, and that was when I knew it wouldn't be. I was going to lose Sweet Pea and that was the end of it.

forever tag: @iwannadiehere

#sweet #pea #riverdale #jordan #conner #connor #I can never remember how to spell his last name fuck #imagine #imagines #x reader

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