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ocdhuacheng · 2 years

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Hey, so can I ask about the thought process (idk words but anyway) behind why you headcanoned Hua Cheng as having OCD cuz I'm very interested? :0

KSJDNKSJDFN sorry it took so long to reply to this I promise I wasn’t ignoring you I was just overwhelmed this week and then after I actually sat down to write out my very long answer I accidentally unplugged my computer and I LOST IT ALL so sorry but this version Is going to be rather incoherent and missing stuff probably bc its pretty much just copied and pasted from one of my discord rambles/previous posts bc I don’t have the energy or memory to rewrite everything how I had it before.. but ive kept u waiting long enough so. Yeah. Sorry.

Also if I sound salty at all its not anything directed at you im just pissed at myself for writing like >3k words all in tumblr like a fool and not backing it up then accidentally yanking on my computer cord like RIGHT as I was going to post it. But I promise im actually very happy getting asks like these even if it takes me a long time to respond ;_;

So anyway basically the tldr version is that I have ocd and I love rubbing my terrible little projection paws all over my favorite characters, but also I do genuinely think that what we are shown of hua chengs personality and actions does naturally lead to the headcanon that he has ocd (and ocpd), kind of like how it seems very clear to me that wwx has adhd and lwj is autistic.

Longer version under cut bc. Well. Sorry in advance lol

So. To start off. my ocd got suuuuuper bad in my second year of college, like to the point where my parents and psychologist was considering putting me in a hospital, so i know how awful ocd can get. and because of that ive always been kinda annoyed that all the ocd """""rep""""" in media is just comedic relief kinda stereotypical clean-freak perfectionist haha look at this weirdo sort of thing. like I was barely functional I couldn’t do basic tasks the majority of the time. ironically, my room was extremely dirty and messy despite my main obsession being about contamination. so yeah not all ocd manifests as the spotless perfect room perfect closet perfect desk or whatever the fuck. sometimes its the opposite. I also got put on academic probation bc I failed all but one of my classes (the one I passed was an art class. Lowkey think that class was the only thing keeping me out of a psych ward that quarter. lol. But anyway. That’s a different conversation) BUT ANYWAY it was all around Awful. Like idk it makes me feel kind of stupid for being such a mess before my medications when everyone just sees ocd as a joke or something. like for example, i loove death the kid soul eater, and hes a good character to make fun of urself after you’ve been medicated for ocd, but i wouldnt exactly call him good rep lmao. But after that relapse episode, I kind of really really really desperately needed a character/story to relate to about it but yippee! there are approximately zero (0) canon ocd characters that aren’t comedic relief! but anyway, i know hua cheng isnt canonically ocd but i was actually able to project on him alot from what we got of his personality (and i do gotta say, sorry but despite my attachment to him i dont actually think hes written all that well, but thats another rant), and its part of the reason why i love him so much bc hes like, definitely my biggest projecttion in this regard. so anyway

i mean theres no argument that his personality and actions are very. obsessive, and rather unhealthy to a degree, especially when he was younger, not so much as he matured over literally 800 years lol but he still has some hella issues. so like, [gestures to all of him] with how he chose xie lian as. HIS PERSON, and proceeded to revolve his entire personality and life around him is obvi v obsessive, i think its very obsessive compulsive personality disorder, which is slightly different than just ocd, one difference being (besides ocd being an anxiety disorder and ocpd being a personality disorder.) in that with ocpd, you dont really think theres anything wrong with how obsessive or compulsive you are, while with ocd it causes a lot of distress. (i havent been formally diagnosed with ocpd, but i do think i definitely at the very least have tendencies in that direction too. Like with certain things i know what im doing/thinking is irrational and it upsets me, but with others im just like. why cant other people see this the way i do? why cant they just understand why this is important? like I just get so! Angry! all the time! with people or in general when things aren’t how I want them to be. I get so judgemental even when other people cant possibly know how specific my standards are like I know its bad and I know it makes me act like a bitch and im sorry) anyway……….. sorry about the tangent but back to hua cheng. he is never distressed by how much he fixates on xie lian, the only thing that distresses him is his own percieved shortcomings with how he cannot serve xie lian the way he wants to. im not sure im explaining this well but i do definitely think hua cheng has ocpd as well. his fixation on xie lian actively prevents him forming meaningful relationships with other people, and even causes a lot of antagonism between him and others (especially fxmq). he just doesnt think anyone else is worthy of his attention. which is obviously, very unhealthy and kind of sad. (i do like to think he grows out of this a bit like with yin yu and he xuan, even if he doesnt want to admit it. AND YUSHI HUANG, bc i am also a ysh/hc brotp propaganda machine as well, and well because she was the only one that was willing to help xie lian during the war too. gay lesbian solidarity mwah <3)

so this ocpd thing.. i believe it extends to things like how the temple in ghost city, or paradise manor, is set up, he'd be classic perfectionist for the layout of it all, probably gave yin yu a lot of grief over it every single time he changed his mind and decided to burn it to the ground or redecorate it because it didnt seem good enough anymore for the hypothetical day when he can bring xie lian there. i dont like to think hua cheng treated yin yu badly on purpose, i dont like thinking hes cruel to him for the sake of being cruel like ive seen some people imply or outright suggest, i mean yin yu is obviously overworked but i think part of that is just hua cheng is so perfectionist about certain things (how the temples and manors look, how theyre run, anything that can be used for or by xie lian in the future) and he just doesnt see that its become a large burden on yin yu because he thinks this kind of stuff is just the rational thing to do, and that everyone should put as much thought into these things as he does. and if he doesnt feel like he can get things to be set up the way he wants it to be it becomes. catastrophic lol

so thats more of the pure ocpd side, though there is a lot of overlap between ocpd and ocd obvi

one thing about ocd is like. its all about wanting to be in control of every tiny part of your life. like for me when certain things are out of my control it freaks me out so much that it basically disables me. Its why I hate planes so much despite cars being statistically much more dangerous. Because if something happens in a car I at least have some semblance of control over how I can escape the situation. In a plane youre just. Fucked. (sorry to all pilots its nothing personal I think youre braver than I will ever be but its basically impossible for me to trust you (and the engineers and inspectors) with my life like that) anyway, i despise ambiguity of any kind and i hate not knowing things or having concrete answers to any questions or worries i have. like. i couldnt decide on a hypothetical grad school because i was weighing the possibilities down to like, ridiculous perceived probability percentages of how likely a natural disaster were to occur in the area, and how dangerous said natural disasters could be, etc. (well. i didnt have to worry about any of that in the end bc i got rejected from literally every school i applied to LMAO RIP but anyway.) so you get the gist. its all just very irrational, and time consuming, and ridiculous to try to gain control of every single possible path your life can take. AND I HATE IT. that was kinda yet another tangent but, to apply this concept to hua cheng. one thing that i find super funny about him is how he always has his nose in everyones personal business like hes such a fucking gossip girl its hilarious. like jokes aside its obvi helpful as a ghost king to know whats going on in the 3 realms, but i think he takes his info gathering up to 11 like he definitely has these control issues about having to know about everything thats going on at all times, having to be on top of everyones business so he cant be caught off guard by anything. over those 800 years of sending his butterflies out recording things he was primarily looking for xie lian, but hes also just kind of. snooping. lmfao. Because If He Doesnt Know Whats Going On Everywhere He Will Die. (again)

and well. with his butterflies to help him, it does work, i mean. hes always on top of things hes always got a plan, hes always the one that people are going to in the book if theyre in trouble. He seems so put together but the things he cant get information on completely eat him alive sometimes. cant let others know that tho, bc hes Cool(TM), hes Chill(TM). cant let anyone know there are things that, god forbid, hes IGNORANT of. embarrassing. tch.

his hoarding im a little ? about because i dont exactly remember the details of it but i do know he has a ridiculous amount of like trinkets and weapons and magical items and stuff in paradise manor, but i also know he doesnt really care if they get destroyed or not, which is kind of strange but i do what i want and im making him a hoarder bc im somewhat of a hoarder and i love projecting. though now that i think about it. like if i have a big pile of something that i dont want to get rid of, but someone else does it for me without asking or something happens to it like yeah i get angry but sometimes i also just get kind of relieved……….. idk.

so now about intrusive thoughts, i bet he has suuper disturbing ones. Like we know how he was debating slaughtering those humans on mt tonglu but ended up not because xie lian would have saved them. obviously that was already a stressful unusual situation but like i dont think that kind of thing gets any better even when hes just like. chilling. he gets visions of himself burning ghost city to the ground or attacking humans or destroying his own ashes or otherwise causing harm to others, like yin yu. like he pretends he doesnt care about yin yu and he xuan and stuff but i do think hes fond of them, but he tries to keep his distance because 1) hes dumb and 2) he gets really freaked out by these violent thoughts he has about them. the worst is, when he finally meets xie lian again he gets these thoughts about him too and it takes literally everything he has not to like. throw himself into a volcano, or something.

and its already been established his self image isnt. great. which is a kind way of saying it. he thinks hes worthless and ugly, esp if he does even the slightest thing wrong. I mean I definitely think hes better by the current timeline of the book, but it still reads as a kind of precarious thing to me? Like he wants to be a companion to xie lian instead of just a servant like wu ming, but even after 800 years he still feels this inferiority and disregard for himself u know? If im explaining in an okay way? and body dysmorphia is also something that can be ocd related. OH and i forgot to say this before but ocd/ocpd can also sometimes be a way that ptsd can manifest and id definitely say with all that he was said to have gone through as a child he has ptsd, leading to, well, exacerbated ocd symptoms, among other things. his body dysmorphia is obviously something he internalized (for 800 years!!!) from when he was a child, and i can imagine him absolutely agonizing for centuries over his san lang form, because it was supposed to be his most perfect form, he needed to make it perfect, and he never felt like he could

similarly, for the cleanliness side of ocd that i feel is kind of stereotypical? at least how its portrayed in most media, hua cheng has been show a couple times not wanting to get things (or xie lian) dirty. he was very poor and dirty as a child so now he has the connection of being dirty = being miserable, and this is taken to the extreme when he becomes a supreme bc now hes rich and able to be clean and any dirt or blood on him or something/someone he cares about (’cant let you down the ground is dirty’; shielding the flower, etc) is like. an attack on this power he has now ? iykwim

anyway sorry this is long and rambly. if you actually read it all… respect……. Also ignore those parts where I might get a little too personal :^) like idk if it is but I feel like I might regret some of this in the morning. honks. Anywayyyy as you can see im completely normal about hua cheng im saaaaaauuuuur normal and well adjusted and I just think hes neat oky byeee jumps out my window

#yiling-patriarch-kinnie #hua cheng #ocd tag #asks #tgcf #.txt #cc #anyway a lot of this is copied from other stuff so if anyone sees me repeat things verbatim from another post/chat..... mind ur business <3

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candycoatedrox · 9 months

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ocs masterpost (the main guys)

so you've stumbled upon my blog and you see me constantly talking about these characters to a mentally ill degree. and you're like, who are these people. WELL I'M GLAD YOU ASKED cause i haven't made an intro post about them yet aaaaaaaaaaa -

I WILL LINK IT HERE WHEN I MAKE ONE BUT FOR NOW. this post is mostly a tag breakdown because i love organizing things and thus have an insane amount of niche tags for them and now really want to have a list of them somewhere. main tag is molls' fucking creechurs. sometimes random ramble posts won't be tagged with that but art/more coherent rambles will definitely be. often i tag the incoherent rambles using niche tags even without the main tag.

gonna put a read more so i don't flood people's dashes when i post this!! tags will be separated into categories below the cut. because again, i am insane.

au tags

erm i have too many aus... its like. a problem

this list is just gonna keep growing i have 15 aus and counting. it all depends on when i actually post about them on here

fallen angel timeline: i only let myself call the tag "timeline" cause i realized fallen angel au would make it sound like its actually an angel au. FALLEN ANGEL IS THE NAME OF THE STORY OKAY it's just the dark timeline of my main lore okay. wade dies i'm so sorry

shooting star au: once again, just the name of the story... slightly better version of fallen angel where wade does not die bc i had too many ideas. lol

sgw au: stands for stained glass window, you'll notice that i like using glass imagery relating to v a lot. hehehe. shooting star au but it actually follows up-to-date lore because v didn't exist when i wrote fallen angel, aka wade and v actually met. this causes infinitely more trauma for everyone involved.

itwl au: au where v is agent 3. yes itwl stands for something. no i will not tell you what it is teehee

hexsquad au: au where my ocs replace the main characters in toh!!

sleepless domain au: au where my ocs are magical girls (or, uh, magical kids?) in the universe of sleepless domain! VERY good comic i HIGHLY recommend reading it's sooo good

spiderverse au: au where my ocs are spider-people!!! hehehehe

#masterpost #molls rambles #molls' fucking creechurs #long post

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muffinbeliever · 3 years

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When the Stars Align [08]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 5801

Warnings: language, angst, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, lots of crying, theres dom/sub vibes if you squint, did i mention angst?

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: APOLOGIES ! i have been absolutely swamped with work and exams. i wrote an extra long chapter full of angsty tears because you know i live for angst. i am so sorry for my irregular postings i'm trying to work on it.

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

You snuggled closer to the object in your arms, eyebrows furrowing when you realized it was a pillow and not Dean’s bare chest. Despite last night’s unhappiness with your soulmate, you couldn’t deny that you loved waking up with him. Too tired to open your eyes, you patted your hand around the other side of the bed, frowning when cool sheets met your touch. You groaned and cracked your eyes open, squinting them not only because of the puffiness from crying but also from the bright beams of light streaming through your window.

The door opened slowly, and Dean peeked into the room, his wet hair indicating he just showered. When he saw you were awake, he gave you a tentative smile, unsure of how you would react.

You couldn’t ignore the feelings of hurt from last night, but you knew you were being irrational. Besides, you didn’t know how long he was going to stay for, and you didn’t want to ruin your time together. You could be mad at him later. You returned with an equally tentative smile and watched his face relax.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, his voice as smooth as honey.

“Good morning,” you responded sweetly, patting the bed next to you, wanting to be close to him. He happily obliged, the scent of his cologne filling your nose. The bed dipped beneath his weight and you curled into his side. Silence fell between the two of you, and you debated your next words.

“Bean,” you started, and he hummed in reply. “I’m sorry about last night. I overreacted and I know that it wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just is what it is.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, nervous that bringing last night up would result in another argument. Dean’s large hand rubbed across your back, and you relaxed under his touch.

“You didn’t overreact,” he murmured into your hair. “I shouldn’t have sprung it on you so suddenly. I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know how to find the words or even start that conversation. I’m sorry for ruining our date.”

You leaned your head up, his worried expression filling your gaze. Your heart was no longer pounding; instead, it tightened at Dean’s pain.

“Last night may not have ended in a way that we both wanted it to, but by no means did you ruin our date, Dean. I’ve never been out like that before and it was amazing. There isn’t anyone else that I would want to do that with,” you reassured him, hoping your affectionate words wouldn’t scare him away. A hint of a smile danced on his lips before he leaned down, capturing you in a bruising kiss. And God, this man could kiss.

His hand stopped it’s soothing rubs against your back and instead travelled further south, gripping your ass. His tongue was wonderfully playing with yours, his soft lips like pillows. You ran your hands through his slightly dampened hair as he shifted under you, rearranging so that you were straddling him. You could feel how hard he was under his jeans, and you took the opportunity to press against him, slowly grinding your hips, eliciting a noise from Dean that shot straight to your core. He flipped you over expertly, taking control of the situation. His hands were exploring your body, rolling your pebbled nipples with his thumb and forefinger. You shamelessly moaned as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck, nipping at special spots that made you cry out.

You tugged at his shirt and as he tore it off in a hurry, you quickly unbuckled his belt in a swift movement. He slipped off the t-shirt that donned your body, immediately pressing open kisses on your chest as his fingers danced at the waistband of your underwear. You arched your back, a silent gesture of want.

“Patience, baby,” he breathed against your lips, and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped you. He chuckled darkly, and you gazed into his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust.

“Please,” you whispered, pathetically. Dean smirked.

“Please what, sweetheart? Use your words,” he commanded lowly, and you could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter. He looked down at you, drinking in the sight of your almost-naked body that was writhing with want.

“Please touch me,” you whined.

“Touch you like this?” he asked with false innocence as his fingers grazed your rib cage, his light touches making their way up your body, kneading your breasts. You let out a struggled moan, frustrated with his teasing.

“Or should I touch you like this?” he whispered hotly into your ear, and before the words could fully register in your mind, his fingers dipped below your underwear and into your wet heat. You moaned loudly as thumb lightly circled your clit while his fingers pumped inside you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and his lips were on you in an instant. You could barely think; how could someone be so good with their fingers? The room was filled with your breathy moans and the slick sound of Dean’s fingers in you. You felt your climax approaching, and Dean could feel it too. Suddenly, his fingers were gone as was the light pressure on your bundle of nerves. You whined at the sudden loss of contact.

“When you cum, sweetheart, I want it to be on my cock,” he said roughly and your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he buried himself in your tightness until he was fully unsheathed. It only took a couple of well-placed thrusts before you were seeing stars, incoherently rambling as he worked you through your orgasm. The snapping of his hips was relentless, and by the time you had come back down from your high, there were only a few seconds before you could feel the pressure building inside you again.

“One more, sweetheart, I know you can do it for me,” he encouraged, and you shook your head, tears forming from the overstimulation of his fingers rubbing your clit and the fullness of his cock. He muttered praises in your ear as you came again, and his thrusts became sloppy as he drove himself over the edge. Spent, he collapsed on top of you, the comforting weight of his body caging you in against the bed.

The two of you laid there for a minute, catching your breath and allowing for your heart to stop racing. Dean pressed a light kiss to your neck before he rolled onto his back next to you. A glance at the clock told you that you had a little over an hour before you had to leave for work. You looked to your right and found Dean already looking at you, a twinkle in his tired eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, and you nodded with a smile on your face.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” There was slight apprehension in his voice. You placed a hand on his cheek and your heart fluttered when he nuzzled closer into your palm.

“I like it a little rough,” you admitted with a blush. He flashed you a wide smile and leaned in to kiss you.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he muttered against your lips and you giggled. He pressed a firm kiss to your lips before pulling away, getting off the bed in search of his boxers.

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll cook us some grub?” he offered and your heart warmed at the gesture.

“Only if you make bacon,” you teased and he gasped dramatically, his hand clutching his chest.

“As if I would make anything else,” he retorted and you rolled your eyes playfully. You hopped off the bed and walked to the bathroom, uncaring that you were naked. You debated on taking a shower but instead threw your hair into a bun and opted for a hot bath, as your legs were still a little wobbly from your previous activities.

You hissed as the water made contact with your sensitive skin, but soon you were fully emerged, your muscles relaxing into the warmth. Leaning your head back, you sunk deeper into the tub, letting your eyes close. There was a slight clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen and you heard Dean quietly curse followed by the tapping of Meatball’s claws against the hardwood floor. You chuckled, envisioning a spooked Dean accidentally stepping on Meatball’s tail and an equally frightened Meatball scampering away. You laid there for a while, the exact time, you were unsure, but you guessed about fifteen minutes if the light pruning of your skin was any indication. Despite how comfortable it was, you didn’t want to keep Dean waiting. You quickly washed yourself before climbing out of the tub.

The tub quietly drained as you brushed your teeth, and you observed your reflection. Despite your tears from the night before, your face wasn’t puffy and your eyes shined brightly. You put on lotion before making your way to your bedroom. You pulled on a soft pair of leggings and a worn sweatshirt. You threw your towel into the hamper and glanced around your room, a smile quirking on your lips when you realized that Dean had already made the bed.

You wandered into the kitchen, a full pot of coffee sitting on the counter as well as a plate of eggs and pancakes. Dean was at the stove finishing up the bacon when he turned to you and winked.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. When Dean grabbed your empty plate and made his way over to the sink, you protested but he silenced you with a look.

“You gotta get to work. I’ll clean these up,” he said and you sighed, knowing he was right.

“I’ll cook dinner then,” you compromised and he smiled at you. You gathered your purse and keys and Dean kissed you on the forehead along with a whispered promise to see you later. Meatball was sitting by the front door, his tail swishing with slight irritation and you frowned, knowing he was probably jealous from the lack of attention. You picked him up in your arms and brushed your hand over his soft fur. It took several seconds, but soon Meatball’s purrs filled the air and you placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head before setting him back down.

The bookstore was quiet and fairly empty, but you weren’t surprised. As the weather grew colder, people normally stopped coming in as frequently. Only at the peak of Christmas shopping did you see a lot of your customers in the winter. It was a day filled with stocking books and shared giggles with Thomas. The atmosphere between the two of you was back to normal, something you were grateful for. You didn’t want to lose Thomas as a friend. You were still full from the breakfast Dean had made, so by the time lunch had come around, you decided to go home for a little bit rather than eat.

You walked into your house, Dean’s voice echoing from the kitchen. He was on the phone. You weren’t sure who he was talking to, but he didn’t sound very happy. You couldn’t make out the words he was saying other than the occasional “son of a bitch”. The call ended when Dean sighed and said, “Alright Sammy, I’ll see you later.”

The kitchen was silent after that, and there was a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew that he wouldn’t be staying for much longer. Were you going with him? Did he want you to go with him? Are you guys together? This wasn’t a one-and-done type of thing was it?

“I thought I heard you walk in,” Dean’s voice came and you jumped. So lost in your thoughts, you had failed to notice him leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, a small smirk on his lips. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“If I had known you were stopping by, I would’ve made lunch,” he said, his eyes held mild concern and there was a slight frown when he noticed that you were drowning in thoughts.

“Sweetheart,” he said, and you shook your head, eyes filled with tears.

“You’re leaving?” You whispered, and his face fell. There were word lines on his face and his eyebrows furrowed. The small part of you that hoped he would bring you with him was crushed, and you understood that he was leaving you behind, again. He pulled you into his arms and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Y/N, you know why I can’t take you with me, right?” His voice was thick, and there was a sharp pain in your chest when you realized that he too was holding back tears. You were tired of arguing with him. You were tired of the tears and the angst. You just wanted him.

“Be careful,” you whispered, defeated. You could tell he was taken aback, probably expecting you to fight. You stepped away, wiping the tears from your face.

“Be careful, Bean. I’ll be here when you get back,” you said with a sad smile. Because it was true: you’d spend forever waiting for him if you had to.

“I—,” he paused, before shaking his head, clearing his eyes of tears, “I’ll come back for you.” He promised, and you giggled while tears streamed down your face, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. He wiped the tears from your cheeks and gave you a deep kiss.

Kisses with Dean weren’t unusual, but they were nothing like this. This kiss was filled with emotions left unexpressed and words left unsaid. It was filled with the missed time between the two of you and hope for the future. You weren’t sure when you would see him next, but you were sure that you would remember this kiss for the rest of your life. It was the perfect goodbye kiss, and that is what made it so hard.

He left soon after, not needing to pack anything, as he didn’t have much with him in the first place. With teary eyes, you watched the Impala’s tail lights until they reached the end of your street, turning left and out of sight.

While the reassurance of him returning comforted you, it didn’t keep the tears from escaping your eyes and the sinking feeling in your chest. Deciding to take the rest of the day off, you shot Thomas a quick text telling him that you wouldn’t be returning from your lunch break. Instead, you turned the TV on and cuddled with Meatball on the couch, seeking comfort in your feline companion. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that Meatball also missed the green-eyed hunter, as he kept staring at the door as if expecting Dean to walk through.

Time quickly passed and before you knew it, the sun had set and Meatball was meowing for dinner. You quickly began to regret not fighting Dean more, at least asking him to stay for one more night. But he left in such a rush, you didn’t want to be selfish and keep him to yourself when there could be someone out there whose life depended on him.

The events of the day left you without an appetite, so you filled Meatball’s bowl before retreating to your room. Your eyes fell on the dark henley that was laid out on the bed, and you smiled at the kind gesture. As if on cue, your phone rang and you giggled when you saw a goofy selfie of Dean fill your screen along with his contact name “Batman”.

“I wasn’t aware I had the hero of Gotham’s phone number,” you answered, teasingly.

“Not just Gotham, sweetheart,” came Dean’s low voice and your heart pounded in your chest. How was it possible for you to get this excited over a phone call?

“When did give me your number?” You asked, and Dean chuckled.

“This morning while you were knocked out. It was quite a sight; I took a couple of pictures to commemorate the moment,” he said, and you scrolled through your photos, immediately finding several photos of you sleeping, your mouth wide open and your hair sprawled everywhere. There were a couple of you by yourself but others were with Dean, him making silly faces as you slept.

“Creep,” you joked.

“I can’t help that you’re adorable while you sleep,” came his smooth reply.

“Did you see my gift?” He asked, changing the subject. You nodded before remembering that he couldn’t see you over the phone.

“Yeah, I found it right before you called,” you said, picking up said gift and holding it to your nose. You inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of cologne, leather, and whiskey. For the next couple of hours, the two of you talked about everything under the sun, enjoying each other’s company. You found out that he was a few hours outside of Sioux Falls, and that the normally almost 10 hour drive was dramatically shorter due to the Dean’s speeding. After lightly scolding him about his disregard for his safety, you proposed that he take a plane if he wanted a shorter trip, but he confessed his fear of flying.

It was nearly midnight by the time the conversation lulled, and you were laying comfortably on your bed in Dean’s henley. It was a comfortable silence filled with Dean’s deep breathing and the purr of the Impala’s engine, and you quickly drifted off to sleep.

The next few weeks passed by fairly quickly. Although you missed Dean’s presence, he made up for it with daily calls and endless texts. Every morning, you would wake up to a sweet text from Dean wishing you a good day. The two of you were faring well considering the distance. He would keep you updated on his hunts, as well as Sam’s wellbeing.

You were happy again, Thomas noted as he observed the smile that always graced your face whenever you were talking to Dean. Despite his lingering feelings for you, Thomas truly wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn’t with him.

However, there were some nights that left you feeling empty and those nights were the hardest. You muted your microphone and cried yourself to sleep, not wanting to cause Dean any pain. As the time apart grew, so did the frequency of those terrible nights.

Nearly three months after Dean had left, you were slowly starting to unravel. You began to isolate yourself again, turning down lunches with Thomas and opted to stay in your house when you weren’t at work. You often spent your weekends staring at a blank wall thinking about Dean for hours on end.

You were unsure if it was your imagination running wild or not, but you could’ve sworn that your soulmate was getting more and more distant. Your nighttime calls were getting shorter, often ending before you had fallen asleep, and Dean’s voice seemed to be sharper. You rationalized in your head that he was particularly stressed about this case and that once it was over you would have your goofy partner back.

When you woke up one morning without a text from Dean, you knew that your suspicions were correct. He was pulling away. You wished him a good morning and waited all day for a response that never came. Maybe he was just busy?

At 9:57 PM, your phone rang loudly, startling you from your trance. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw “Batman” flash on the screen and your heart leaped out of your chest, a wave of excitement but also anger rushing over you.

“Where have you been?” You immediately asked when you answered, not even allowing him to greet you. Your voice was icy, upset with the way you were shut out all day, and Dean knew that he was in trouble.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice defeated, and you knew something was very wrong. There was a deep sigh before he continued.

“Sweetheart, I have to go away for a couple of days and I won’t be able to contact you,” he said and a million questions raced through your mind, but the most prominent of all: why? Conflicted with where to even begin, you let out a shaky breath that you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“Where are you going?” You asked weakly.

“I just gotta finish this case, and I’ll be back before you know it,” he rushed out. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Dean hastily cut you off.

“I gotta leave now, but I’ll see you soon,” he paused, “I’m sorry.”

“De—,” you called out, but it was too late. He had hung up on you. Furious, you tried calling his phone, only for it to go straight to voicemail.

“Dean Winchester, you will answer the phone right now and explain what is going on,” you demanded, before texting him variations of the same command. You tried calling Sam, but much to your anguish, his phone also went straight to voicemail.

“What the fuck,” you muttered, wringing your hands as you tried to figure out a way to contact the brothers. There was no way for you to track them, and you didn’t even know Bobby’s last name, only that he lived in Sioux Falls. You got on your knees and prayed to Castiel, begging for his help, but when there was no flutter of wings nor a handsome man wearing a trench coat in your home, you did the only thing you could do. You cried.

You thought it had hurt when Dean left the first time, but it was nothing compared to the pain you had felt now. This time, you had a glimpse of happiness, a peek into what your future could have held. A future with pancakes and forehead kisses, late nights in bed and early mornings curled around him. You had gotten used to his witty comments and snarky replies, his teasing and affectionate nature. You had finally began to see yourself being happy for the rest of your life with this man, only for it to be taken away, and you hadn’t the slightest clue why.

A day passed without any contact from the brothers despite the numerous calls, texts, and prayers you had sent. You had no idea where Dean was, how long he would be, or if he would even come back. For all you knew, he could’ve just left you, deciding that he could no longer do long distance. Unable to bare being alone in your lonely house anymore, you drove to Thomas’ apartment.

You knocked heavily on his door and noted the look of surprise in his brown eyes, before Thomas recognized your tear-stained face and disheveled look.

“What did he do this time?” Thomas growled, as he stepped aside to let you in. Not in the mood to talk, you merely shook your head as you felt tears welling in your eyes again. Thomas pulled you into a protective hug, and as much as you wanted to find comfort in the embrace, you were disappointed when the smell of lemons and fresh laundry hit you instead of cologne, whiskey, and leather.

Thomas pulled away once you quieted down, dragging you to the couch and insisting that you stayed there while he made you a cup of tea. You glanced around the room, taking in slight differences since the last time you were here. There was an unfamiliar jacket resting on the back of a chair as well as a pair of shoes by the door that you’d never seen before. When a shirtless man walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, you remembered Thomas mentioning a few months back that his brother was staying with him for the foreseeable future.

Thomas’ brother, you had forgotten his name, swept his dark eyes over the living room, spotting you on the couch.

“It’s about time Tommy found a girl,” he remarked with a smirk. Something about him made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and sent shivers down your spine. Thomas had briefly told you that they don’t really get along, but that he still wanted to help his brother out. You shook your head, clearing your mind of thoughts.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced, “I work with Thomas at the bookstore. We’re just friends.” You clarified and noted the man’s eyebrows raise.

“Just friends, huh? I would’ve thought Tommy would mention working with such a beautiful woman,” he drawled before sticking out his hand.

“Dylan,” he said firmly and you looked warily at his hand before shaking it, very much aware that he was practically naked in front of you. Luckily, Thomas stepped into the room, a cup of peppermint tea in his hands.

“Dyl, go put on some clothes,” Thomas instructed, before looking back at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Dylan rolled his eyes and sauntered out of the room.

“Sorry about him,” Thomas said. Not wanting to cause any trouble between the brothers, you shrugged lightly before taking the tea.

“What’s wrong?” He kindly inquired, sitting next to you on the couch. You took a sip of your tea before setting it down, letting out a shaky breath. You spent the next hour explaining what had happened with Dean: how he had to leave suddenly for work and the past several months with the phone calls and texts, leaving out the more intimate details. You then told him about Dean’s changing moods and the strange phone call. You told him that you had tried many times to contact him, not mentioning Castiel, and how broken you felt without Dean by your side.

You were a crying again by the time you had finished, reduced to a bumbling mess, unattractively wiping your face with the sleeve of Dean’s henley that you wore for the past two days. It had long lost its scent, but knowing it was his still brought you a shred of comfort.

Thomas cooked your favorite pasta, and Dylan joined the two of you at the table for dinner. Hoping to get your mind off of Dean, you got to know Dylan more, asking questions about his career and his life in Fort Collins. You learned that Dylan was a problem child and he was at boarding schools for most of his life. He dropped out of college early on, much to his parents’ disappointment. He had gotten in trouble with the law for petty theft as well as drunk driving. He was now staying with Thomas as he worked at the mechanic, fixing cars and saving money until he could get a place of his own. Despite your initial impression of the man, you had learned that outside of his snarky demeanor, he was actually quite a decent guy. Him and Thomas weren’t very close as a result of Dylan being five years older and not around for the majority of Thomas’ childhood.

As the pasta disappeared along with two bottles of wine, the three of you delved into deeper topics. You learned that Dylan hadn’t met his soulmate yet and he was afraid he never would. He had a long history with women, and Thomas pegged him as a one-night-stand type of guy. You told him about Dean and the rollercoaster that was your relationship. You successfully avoided questions that directly asked about Dean’s job and the details of his life. It was nearly midnight when your phone rang.

You sucked in a breath, your heart pounding when you saw Sam’s name on the screen. Why was he calling you, after all this time? Why didn’t Dean call you first? Did something happen? You quickly excused yourself from the table, rushing into the living room before answering. “Sam?” You said, shakily.

“Hey Y/N,” came Sam’s tired voice.

“What’s going on? Where’s Dean?” You demanded, furious at your soulmate and his brother for leaving you without a clue as to what was going on.

“Dean didn’t tell you?” Sam asked, his voice twinged with confusion.

“Tell me what?” You asked, your heart racing at the endless possibilities running through your mind. However, none of them was remotely close to what Sam revealed.

“Lisa and Ben,” he said, and you flinched at the woman’s name, “they were kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped? By who?” You asked incredulously. Sam began explaining how demons came after them and how Ben had called Dean. You didn’t mean to, but you tuned out the younger Winchester, caught up in your own thoughts.

Did Lisa tell Ben to call Dean? Is this why he left? Did he have unresolved feelings for this woman? You collapsed onto the couch. You couldn’t cry anymore even if you had tried. No longer buzzed from the wine, you processed everything that Sam had told you, anger rising in your chest.

“Where is he?” You asked, not caring that you had cut Sam off. He sighed before answering.

“The hospital.” The hospital? Why on Earth was he in the hospital?

“He’s not in the hospital, he’s at the hospital. He’s uh… he’s taking care of some things,” Sam said, and you didn’t even realize that you were thinking out loud.

“I see,” you clipped. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lisa and her son were the unmentioned things and that Dean still deeply cared about them.

“Y/N,” Sam said, “I’m so sorry; I thought you knew. Dean said he took care of everything.” You scoffed.

“He told me that he was leaving and that he would be coming back later,” you said coldly. You took pity on Sam, the tall man always kind towards you and it wasn’t his fault his brother was an idiot.

“Tell him I am expecting a call when he’s done with those… things,” you said before hanging up. You resisted the urge to hurl your phone at the front door, and instead screamed into a couch pillow before rejoining Thomas and Dylan in the kitchen. Thomas took one look at your face and pulled out the whiskey and three glasses.

You winced at the harsh burn as the alcohol entered your body, throwing back glass after glass in hopes of numbing the ebbing pain in your heart. He didn’t want you. He wanted her. He left you so he could be with her. You should’ve known he wasn’t over her, with the way he kept hiding things from you, how he hid their relationship until recently.

It wasn’t long before you were a drunken mess, Thomas insisting that you sleep on the couch as you were in no state to go home. You barely protested, knowing that you would rather be with Thomas in his apartment than in your house by yourself, sleeping in a bed that you and Dean used to sleep in.

A loud ringing from your phone woke you up. A pounding headache and an achey back signaled that you were hungover and on the couch. You didn’t remember passing out, nor did you remember Thomas bidding you a goodnight. You squinted your eyes at the clock on the wall, wondering who would be calling at three in the morning.

You scrambled off the couch as your phone continued to ring, seeing Dean’s face on your screen in that stupid silly picture he took that you hated to admit you loved. Wanting nothing more than to scream at your soulmate, you unlocked the door and crept outside, not wanting to wake up the whole apartment with your yelling.

“How convenient of you to call,” you said cooly when you answered.

“Sweetheart, I—,” Dean started before you cut him off.

“Don’t sweetheart me, Dean. Do you know how worried I was? How confused I was? You suddenly up and left me without a single explanation, and I have to find out from your brother two days later that you were saving your ex-girlfriend? You were in such a rush that you couldn’t explain it over a text or a voicemail?

“God, I cannot believe that you did that! Why did you keep this from me? Do you still have feelings for her? You asshole, you said you didn’t love her!” You screamed, absolutely done with the whole situation.

“What’s next? You’re going to apologize and tell me that she meant nothing, and that you only want me, but the next time another girlfriend of yours goes missing, you’ll be leaving again, without a single word?” You were out of breath now, your chest heaving. The other end was silent, before Dean spoke again.

“It wasn’t like that. I was trying to protect you,” he reasoned and you exploded again.

“Protect me? You keep saying that but all you do is leave me and hurt me. Don’t lie to me Dean, you were trying to protect her and her precious son,” you said venomously.

“You know what Dean? I’m done. Go be with Lisa and that kid. Go live out that perfect life that you had tried to before,” you said, suddenly exhausted. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep fighting with him.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset,” he started, “Hell, Sam punched me when he found out you didn’t know. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, I guess I didn’t want you to worry, but God I’m so stupid. I promise I’m done with Lisa. I had Cas remove their memories of me, so they can live a normal life away from all of this stupid supernatural bullshit. I don’t want her, Y/N. I want you.”

“No, Dean. You don’t get me. Don’t you understand? You chose her. She may not have any memories of you but you sure do have memories of her and the year you spent together. The year you played family. How dare you even be jealous of Thomas, when you’re with her?” You were tired. It was cold.

“I’m done, Dean,” you whispered defeatedly into the phone. “Please don’t call or visit. I don’t want to see you.”

“Sweeth—,” you hung up before he could even get the word out. Bubbling over with anger, you threw your phone to the ground and watched it shatter into tiny pieces. You rushed back inside, throwing yourself on the couch and sobbed until the sun rose.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean winchester #reader x dean #y/n x dean winchester #y/n x dean #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural series #muffinbeliever

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wing-ed-thing · 3 years

Text

Click: Finale

Synopsis: You invited everyone out to dinner. You also audibly clicked. People have opinions about this.

Word Count: 2,286

Tags/Warnings: Language, Smoking, Fem!Reader

Part I: Shikamaru, Part II: Shino, Part III: Neji, Part IV: Rock Lee , Part V: Naruto, Part VI: Kiba, FINALE, The Message in Click

Notes: I’ve been legit putting off this finale for a month. Come get y’all juice.

You could only assume that something was about to go down. What you didn’t know just quite yet was if it would be violent: truly a worrying unknown. You hoped not, but then again, Rock Lee’s insistence felt ambiguous at best. He refused to answer any of your questions. And so for the moment, the only thing that felt certain boiled down to Lee’s vice grip on your wrist as he heaved you out of your apartment. You sighed. Everything else that escaped Lee’s lips you found useless at best. With nothing else to work with but a few ramblings about youth, you didn’t bother trying to pry more than you had already.

He hardly gave you any time to prepare and you hoped that you could chalk it up to his overeager nature and not a village-wide emergency. He led you, tugging you across the village. You stumbled over your own feet as you struggled to keep up with his fast pace. He pulled you over rooftops and through busy crowds of people who quickly grew not too pleased with the pair of you as you pushed through.

“Are you not going to tell me where we’re going?” You pleaded, grasping at his wrist. You might as well have asked a rhetorical question or perhaps even not at all. Lee looked back at you for a split second with a wide grin.

“Nope!” He answered before almost crashing you into a wall. You swiveled out of the way with a shriek, still tethered to Lee, and silently thanked your shinobi reflexes. Surely, they saved you from much in this world.

When Lee finally stopped in front of your destination, it was abrupt. You probably should have expected as much, but ultimately didn’t have time to think about it as you fell onto your backside. You crashed into Lee’s lean and muscular back. And unfazed, Lee threw up his arms in show as if unveiling a grand magic trick. He shrieked to the sky above.

“We are here!” You finally shifted your attention to Shushu-ya’s storefront. You blinked, slowly and hesitantly turned to Lee whose face shone like he just won a million ryō. You picked yourself off of the ground and squinted as you brushed yourself off, wondering if there was something about Lee’s presentation that you missed.

“It’s not on fire… or destroyed,” you pointed out with more than a fair bit of skepticism in your voice. Lee glanced up at the storefront with visible confusion. He turned his attention to you and then to the storefront.

“No it is not!” he bellowed, deciding to plaster on a wide grin. Your fingers weaved together as you rocked on your heels and let out a relieved sigh.

“Lee, is this an elaborate way of inviting me out to dinner?” Lee’s features contorted into a deep worry which made you immediately concerned once again. He yelled out something incoherent before taking your wrist again. You braced yourself for news of the village’s doom.

“I completely forgot! Everyone is waiting for us!” And before you could question him, you were tugged inside. He threw open the door, once again almost hitting you in the face as he did. Too focused on your dodging, it took you a second to take in what awaited you inside of the restaurant. “Everyone! I apologize for the delay!”

You turned and couldn’t hide your surprised gaping. Shikamaru, Shino, Neji, Naruto and Sakura were all sat around a rectangular table. Neji scoffed, neatly aligning his chopsticks on his napkin with disinterest.

“About time—” He rolled his eyes— “Lee went to get you a half hour ago.” Lee tried to guide you to the table, but you remained where you stood, unmoving. Lee gave you another slight pull, but you couldn’t even look at him. You couldn’t look at any of them. You quickly excused yourself with a shaky promise of coming right back and left out the front door.

Shikamaru let out a sigh, not one of exasperation, but a sigh nonetheless. He lazily moved to stand, but Shino planted a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I got her,” he said in his usual Aburame monotone and stood up in Shikamaru’s place. The Nara, on the other hand, sat back in his spot with the newfound relief that he wouldn’t have to get up.

You were trying to catch your breath when Shino found you outside. You hugged your arms to your chest and faced Shino with your posture small. He stood a comfortable distance away, ever-unimposing. Shino buried his hands in his pockets, his back straight but shoulders slouched.

“It’s not a joke is it?” you asked. Shino frowned, slightly perplexed by your question.

“When have you known me to be in on jokes?” You pursed your lips, bobbing your head slightly. You kept nodding and cleared your throat. Your knee bent as you mirrored Shino’s posture, though a bit more nervously.

“It’s not out of pity, then, is it? For me? Because I don’t wanna be here if people are just here out of pity.” Shino took in a deep, discrete breath.

“This group of people wanted to have a meal with friends. Why would that be about you?” You hummed, casting your gaze away from him, flustered. You opened your mouth before shutting it again. Shino waited patiently for your response. He had always been blunt like a wood hammer and to some extent, Shino knew that. After all, he usually didn’t know how to navigate moments such as these. But he would try. “No. If there was a joke, it would be new to me. I was invited to dine with my friends and nothing more.”

“You really think of me as a friend?”

“I could ask you the same. I thought that we’ve been friends for a while.” Shino didn’t hesitate in his response. You stared up into his dark glasses, blinking.

“Yes, of course, Shino. We always have been. I guess I’m just shocked, that’s all. With everything, I mean.” Shino gave a slight nod, but nothing more. He had never been one for outward expression of emotion and he wasn’t about to start now.

“If you’re uncomfortable you don’t have to stay. I can walk you home if that’s what you’d feel better doing.”

You took a moment to think and Shino once again waited patiently. You sat on the ground next to the building. Shino took a step forward and motioned to the space next to you with his palm. You gave him a nod and he sat. The two of you gazed out at the village. Even in its most populated parts, Konoha looked exceptionally beautiful in the summer. Plantlife grew all around you and you wondered if Shino admired it as much as you did.

You didn’t think for long. You didn’t have to before you went to stand. Shino got up quicker than you and lent you a hand. You turned towards the entrance with him at your side and shook your head.

“No, this is nice. Sorry, a lot’s gone on recently. I think I’m just overthinking, you know?” You looked up at Shino but he didn’t look down at you.

“Well?” he asked simply, “Isn’t there something you should be doing then? Everyone’s waiting inside to order.” You perked up, moving to scurry inside but Shino grabbed you gently by both arms as he blocked your path to the door. He lowered himself, but with a frown. “What? I thought you always carried it with you.” The thought dawned on you as his large hands shrunk away.

You reached into your pocket and fiddle with your clicker. Shino looked at you expectantly. And with a single click, Shino ushed you inside.

A second round of drinks were already on the table by the time you took your place in between Shino and Shikamaru. Despite still being a bit uneasy, as you glanced around the table, you couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of warmth beginning to grow in your chest. Naruto and Lee turned to you, mischief shining in their eyes.

“We’re gonna order the whole menu, right?” Naruto looked at you expectantly, holding up the laminated menu like a holy prize. You let yourself laugh, nose crinkling up as you nodded.

“Of course!”

***

You seemed happy. Or at least that’s what Shikamaru thought. The appetizers kept coming and the more you ate the more you spoke. Shikamaru wondered if this is what it would have been like if anyone came with you the week before. As much as he’d like to think so, he knew that if he bothered to ask, you both would come to the same conclusion. By far, this was nicer.

A few figures walked past outside. Shikamaru’s irises drifted to the corner of his eye as he glanced out the window where his gaze fell onto Kiba. Ino, Choji, Sai, and Hinata encompassed the group that crowded around the Inuzuka, but even though chatter surrounded him, his eyes locked with Shikamaru’s through the glass. Their passage past Shushu-ya felt slowed in time. Shikamaru slowly rose from his seat. You tugged at his sleeve.

“You’re not leaving are you, Shikamaru?” A small, hopeful smile clung onto your lips, oblivious to the world outside of your little table. You stared up at him with bright eyes. Shikamaru leaned over, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as you laughed with the others. You tilted your head to better hear him. He tapped a box of cigarettes on the table, his lighter tucked on top under his knuckles.

“I’ll be right back. Smoke break.” You nodded before turning back to the table, unsuspecting.

Kiba fell to the back of the group and gave a feeble excuse to allow the others to go on without him. By the time Shikamaru stepped outside, the rest of the crew had left, expecting him to catch up soon. Kiba positioned himself away from the window and Shikamaru leaned up against the side of the building. He plucked out a single cigarette before offering the box to Kiba, who shook his head and held up an open palm. Shikamaru flicked the top back on the pack before shoving them back into his pocket. He lit the rolled paper, taking a deep, audible inhale before blowing out the smoke in a line. Kiba stood by: watching, waiting. Shikamaru tilted his head up, puckered lips relaxing as the last of the smoke poured out of the side of his mouth.

“That’s a pretty nice thing you set up in there,” Shikamaru stated simply and brought his cigarette back up to his lips. Kiba sputtered as he crossed his arms.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, turning away to glance momentarily at you through the side of the window as you dined with your friends, “And even if I did, I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of it.”

Shikamaru raised a brow, but said nothing as he tapped a flurry of ashes onto the ground. Kiba had always been as stubborn and defensive as he was readable. His jaw clenched and his fingers dug slightly into his bicep. Kiba nearly pouted. Shikamaru studied his friend and found guilt, but that was something that Kiba already knew so Shikamaru wouldn’t go through the trouble of pointing it out. Shikamaru took another huff.

“No one’s making a big deal out of anything.”

Kiba’s nose crinkled. With his keen sense of smell, he couldn’t hide his disgust at Shikamaru’s poorly scented habit.

“Do you have to do that right now? When we’re talking?” Kiba barked, but Shikamaru simply shrugged off the edge to his tone. Shikamaru’s head turned to Kiba as he blew his smoke directly into Kiba’s face. The Inuzuka stepped back, waving his hand around wildly in the air in an attempt to disperse the stench into the air.

“This was my excuse to come out here. To talk to you, loser.” Shikamaru expected Kiba to put up a fight, but received nothing. Too wrapped up in his own thoughts, Kiba went quiet. He leaned back against the wall like Shikamaru with his head bowed toward the ground. He tapped his foot.

“Can’t a guy do something nice for someone and not make it some big deal about love or friendship or whatever?” Shikamaru threw the butt on his cigarette on the ground and squelched it out with his shoe.

“Wow,” he mouthed as he began to head back towards the door of Shushu-ya. He laid a hand on Kiba’s shoulder as he passed by, deciding to stop for a split second. “You know, Kiba, I wasn’t exactly listening this whole time and quite frankly, I don’t care—” Kiba scowled. —“but I do know that I didn’t say anything like that and that you, maybe, need to sort out your shit. All of you do and I don’t have the time, the energy, or the care to do anything about it.” Shikamaru gave Kiba a pat where his hand rested and went back inside.

When he came in you were waiting to greet him back to the table. A small plate of dumplings sat at his spot. He couldn’t help the tiny, blushing grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“About time!” you yelled, “I didn’t know how long I could fend Naruto and Lee off of your food, Shikamaru!”

Shikamaru hummed, taking his seat next to you. You clicked, but Shikamaru couldn’t help but notice that the little noise became more scarce as the night went on.

You all ate your dinner together.

Notes: I’m not too sure how much I like how this turned out but I suppose I can’t keep postponing it. Hopefully with a bit of time, when I revisit it I’ll like it more.

Thank you to everyone who stuck by this series and gave your love and support. I’d ideally not like to milk it (because I think then people would get sick of this series), but maybe if I have some good ideas I’ll make like an epilogue or something. I hope that y’all got some sort of nice message about this. Maybe in time I’ll let y’all know what spurred this series on.

Lots of love, friends.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Star Wars Time Travel Au #27

Suicidal misunderstanding AU: Obi-Wan only a year or two into his desert exile is thrown back in time to the height of the clone wars. Due to circumstances, he assumes this is a hallucination and after enjoying hanging out with his friends for a while, decides he really needs to wake up before he dies of dehydration. When intense meditation fails, he tries to break the illusion by kriffing killing himself. Panic from all parties ensues.

-------

Ben-the-realitively-new-Hermit has made the informed decision to try out this whole spice thing, takes an absolutely massive spice dose, like 4 whole spices. Taps into the force and starts having a wild out of body experience, he can see the i n s i d e o f t i m e

General Kenobi is on Courasacasant for some extremely rare R&R, gets pulled to go drinking with Cody and some of the 212th. He blacks out for a minute and wakes up really confused. Like, he was drinking but this seems like he might’ve taken something extra, let’s get him back to the temple to sleep it off.

On the hovercar ride back Obi-Wan is babbling, saying how happy he is to see everyone again, and how he doesn’t blame them for trying to kill him. And uh

“Truly Cody, I know you would never fire at me if you were you, I think Palpatine must have been controlling your minds somehow. I swear, I’ll- I’ll try and find you - I - I’m so sorry,” he said leaning into Cody’s space, starting out earnestly and becoming increasingly unsettlingly intense.

“Sir?” Cody responds nervously, but Obi-Wan was distracted by the view out the hovercar’s window.

“Are you taking me to the temple?” he asks hollowly.

Yes sir, I think you’ve had a few too many drinks, you’re- to be blunt, you’re not making any sense and its a bit alarming. I think it would be best if you slept things off in your personal quarters for a bit” the commander answers tensely.

Obi Wan is quiet for a minute, growing more subdued.

“Will he be there? Will- will- Anakin be there?” he finally asks.

“I believe the 501st is still on leave. I can comm him if you wish?” slightly relieved at the prospect of passing whatevers going on with his General to someone with more general intel on the subject.

Obi-Wan grow quiet again. “Yes,” he whispers suddenly. “I want to see him, force help me, I still want to see him. I -I miss him,” and at that, to everyones horror, he begins tearing up.

Cody fumbles to activate his comm. “Commander Cody to General Skywalker. General Skywalker, I am requesting immediate response. I repeat, Commander CC-2224 to General Skywalker, I am requesting-”

“This had better be life-or-death Cody. I’m on leave. You’re on leave. Why are we contacting me and not Obi-Wan?” General Skywalker whines into the com.

“It’s about General Kenobi, sir”

“Is he injured?” General Skywalker responded sharply, suddenly laser focused.

“He’s- he’s crying sir.” And he was. The sound of General Skywalker’s voice had turned the trickle of tears into full blown sobs. He was clinging to Waxer, who looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

“He’s what”

“He’s crying, and he said he missed you. Please tell me you’re at the temple, sir” he all but begged.

“Is this supposed be a practical joke?” Skywalker responded annoyed. “Did Rex somehow put you up this?”

“This is not a joke. He blacked out in the bar, started rambling about forgiving us for trying to kill him, and now he’s crying” For additional proof he holds the comm out to General Kenobi, who just continued to sob incoherently.

“Is he drugged?” Skywalker responds. There’s the sound of rapid shuffling in the background, hopefully him moving to meet them at the temple gates.

“Unknown, sir. I only saw him consume alcohol, but not enough to fully account for his...altered state”

“Are you recording him?” Skywalker’s voice is muffled by...the sound of traffic? Dank farrik, was he not at the temple?

“Am I what” the commander responds indignantly.

“Kidding!” Anakin quickly shoots back. “Anyway I’m 5 minutes out from the temple, you?

He quickly conferred with Longshot, who was designated driver and, based on his white knuckles, focused with mission-level intensity on navigating traffic.

“We’ll arrive at the secondary temple gate in 10. Any orders on how to... mitigate the situation?” A quick glance at Kenobi revealed that Waxer had proceeded to patting him on the back like an overwhelmed cadet. It was unclear whether it was helping or not.

“Oh, I have no idea,” Anakin answered, overly gleeful “I can’t even remember the last time he cried. And his alcohol tolerance is unfairly ridiculous so I have no idea if this is normal for him when he’s drunk.”

With that piece of unhelpful intel the vehicle lapsed into mostly silence, broken only by the sound of Kenobi’s hiccuping sobs.

Anakin calls to confirm he’s waiting in the top entry bay at the secondary temple gates. He pauses for a moment, empty static coming over the comm. “Did he really say he missed me?”

Cody closes his eyes for a moment. He was not designed to deal with this dammit. He just wanted to go drinking with his- his fellow officer and maybe see him relax a little. he knew the Jedi were stressed by the war but if this is what a Jedi dealing with feelings looked like then -then forcedammit this is what a Jedi relaxing looked like. They should be honored that the Generals trusted them enough to let their guard down. Clearly Obi-Wan needed his younger vod’s support more than he had realized, especially if they were, in a way, a squad of two for over a decade.

“Yes sir. When he realized we were bringing him back to the temple he asked if you would be there. I offered to comm you, he confirmed audibly that he wanted to see you, and that he missed you. Thats- that’s when the crying began. We made contact immediately after.”

“Oh.” He left the channel open between them. Cody could distantly hear the sound of pacing on the other end

Obi-Wan was staring at the commlink in Cody’s bracer with an unreadable expression. He swallowed a few times, and, hand shaking visibly, reached out and pulled Cody’s wrist close “Anakin? Is that Anakin? My Anakin?” Obi-wan’s voice was shaking along with the rest of his body.

“Your Anakin huh?” came the response, in a reflexively teasing tone. “What happened the ‘dangers of possessiveness and attachment’ you’re always lecturing me on?

Obi-wan responded, to Waxer and Cody’s mixed emotions, by shifting bodily over to Cody, clinging onto his arm for dear life and bending over to press his forehead to the comm unit, letting out a keening sob.

“Um, Master? Was that you?” Anakin squeaked out with characteristic helpfulness.

“I don’t want to see the temple burning” Obi-Wan rasped into Cody’s bracer, “I want to see you but I don’t want to see the bodies in the temple, not again, please Anakin I don’t want to look at them again. Anakin I just want to see you not- not- not-” and it was almost a relief when the chilling words broke down into dry sobs. Cody wanted to pat him on the back with his free arm, but considering how he was clinging to cody’s comm unit, it turned into an awkward full body hug that Obi-Wan absolutely melted into.

“Oh kriff, did you have a vision, Master? Is that what this is about? The temple’s fine, I’ll show you when you get here, there’s no bodies here, I promise”

“Obi-Wan just shook, curling up halfway into Cody’s lap”

Next (Part Two)

#star wars #suicidal misunderstanding au #tw: attempted suicide #character is not actually suicidal #but beileves they're haveing an extended hallucination and their attempts to wake up look an awful lot like suicide to everyone else so #tw: self harm #tw #star wars au #my au #sw #star wars au no 27 #shoutout to sky-wolf0550 #for being my first ever like no idea if youre a bot or not but I'm new here so thank you

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letsfluxshitup · 3 years

Text

companionship is stored in the fried bread [ao3]

Techno wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up here, (somewhat) prisoner at his own kitchen table, as Tommy furiously kneaded dough in front of him.

bedrock bros but with old routines and new trauma aka tommy and techno fry bread

Techno wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up here, (somewhat) prisoner at his own kitchen table, as Tommy furiously kneaded dough in front of him.

He remembered waking up from another week long nap, Phil recounting any news he'd picked up, and stumbling back towards his bedroom. He'd barely made it to the stairs before his door had flung open, bouncing off of the wall and slamming shut again.

Techno blinked at the door, before it was flung open again, this time much gentler and followed by a string of curses and taunts.

"Your fuckin door sucks, y'know that? Trying to lock me out? Stubbed my fuckin toe on it, you should get a new one, piece of garbage attacked me." Tommy hissed as he walked through the door, not hesitating to slam it behind him. The door swung back and hit him from behind, bouncing off of a spare shoe that had fallen in the way.

Tommy paused, face and shoulders scrunched up as he sucked in a deep breath, cheeks and ears flushing red in Tommy's signature lead up to I'm

-going-to-throw-a-tantrum-but-it's-not-called-a-tantrum-technoblade-I-am-not-a-child-technoblade-but-that-will-not-stop-me-from-bursting-your-eardrums-because-I've-been-inconvenienced-technoblade.

"Are you hungry?" Techno blurted out, remembering back to SMP Earth, and the foolproof method of derailing a Tommy Innit Tantrum— offering food and/or shiny things.

Tommy deflated in one long exhale, shoulders relaxing and face smoothing as he grinned at Techno.

"Actually, I am, big man! What do you have available? I'm quite hungry actually, I've been walking for a very long time, and it's very rude of you, actually, to not offer me something to eat sooner," Tommy inhaled again, catching his breath. "Did you know that, Techno? Did you know you're very rude?"

"I'm aware," Techno deadpanned, spinning on his heel and heading for the kitchen. Tommy was directly behind him, stepping on his heels more often than not.

Techno gestured towards the kitchen table, in what should have been a universally recognizable symbol of please-sit-down-you're-in-the-way, which Tommy completely ignored by climbing on to his counter to dig in his cupboard.

RaccoonInnit, echoed in his head, startling him slightly since Chat had been unusually quiet since Tommy had appeared.

Techno sighed deeply as the voices picked up slightly, humming their thoughts into his ears. Mostly protect-protect-protect, but there wasn't really anything to protect him from. If he slipped and broke his neck from falling off the counter then that was his own problem.

That train of thought earned him a near unanimous shriek of voices, demanding he make sure Tommy didn't fall.

He sighed again, ending it off with a slight growl as he moved towards Tommy, figuring he may as well entertain the voices for now.

Tommy's head whipped around at the sound of the growl, and he reeled back as Techno moved closer, a stuttering of "sorry- sorry- I didn't-" cut off as he slipped off the counter.

Techno lunged forward without thinking, catching Tommy around the shoulders and lowering him to the ground. Tommy's eyes were wide as he made eye contact with Techno, terror twisting Techno's stomach as Tommy let out a childlike little whimper.

Techno opened his mouth, to speak, to apologize, to break the silence, but was awarded with a face full of sweaty hand, Tommy smacking him away and cursing up a storm as he stumbled to his feet.

When Tommy made it out of arm's reach he paused, shifting from foot to foot, glancing between Techno and the doorway.

Techno blinked, slowly rising to his feet, hands spread out.

"Sorry," he rumbled, voices in his head screaming for him to apologize, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Tommy huffed, puffing up again, forcing his shoulders back and head held high.

"You didn't scare me, dickhead, just startled me a little." He grumbled, arms crossed as he deflated slightly.

Techno certainly wasn't going to argue semantics after nearly causing the kid to crack his head open, and instead brushed the non existent dirt off of his pants.

"So," Tommy huffed, gesturing towards the cabinet. "Where's the flour? I want to fry bread."

He'd managed to sparse through Tommy's nearly incoherent ramblings to pick up that Tommy was hiding from everyone else- or rather, "taking a break, because Big Men don't hide, Technoblade-".

"You needed a break from the drama so you ran to your worst enemy?" Techno deadpanned, reaching for the flour as Tommy sent him a pleading look. His hands were covered in too sticky dough, having ignored Techno's insistence that they needed to add more flour. He couldn't really knead it like that, he was more just squishing it between his fingers.

Techno would be more grossed out if he hadn't watched tommy thoroughly wash his hands. He'd hovered nearby as Tommy aggressively scrubbed before Techno had even let him near the dough, Tommy complaining the whole time about how he knew how to wash his hands and didn't need a babysitter.

Tommy huffed in response, wind whistling between his clenched teeth as he worked the flour into the dough.

"You're not my worst enemy," he snarked, something vulnerable in his eyes and the set of his jaw. "My worst enemy is in prison, currently."

"And hopefully that's where he'll stay," Techno hummed absently, watching as Tommy's shoulders relaxed minutely. "Things have been a lot quieter around here, startin' to wonder if him blaming you for all the problems on the server was just him projecting."

"Yeah, right, of course. He was being a projector and shit," Tommy let out a slightly incredulous laugh, and yeah, Techno realized it was hypocritical of them to place the blame on Dream. But, Tommy looked tired and tense and other t-words with negative meanings that Tommy didn't deserve the weight of.

Tommy rolled out the dough, flour-y hands causing puffs of flour to cling to his shirt and pants and hair. Techno huffed a laugh at the smear of flour across Tommy's cheek, and vaguely gestured towards his own face when Tommy raised a questioning eyebrow.

Tommy immediately swiped a hand across his face, smearing more flour in the process. His eyebrows furrowed, surely able to feel it, and he glowered at Techno, daring him to say something. Techno just snorted as he stood up, ignoring the coos roiling through his head, and waved Tommy away from the rolled out dough.

"We've gotta cut it up now, so we can fry it," Techno said, reaching for the knife he'd left out for this exact reason, carefully watching Tommy for a reaction.

"I know that, dickhead, you don't have to explain," Tommy snapped, head held high, as he watched Techno section up the dough.

Techno kept his eyes on the dough, carefully watching Tommy through his peripherals. In a, frankly, unearned show of trust, Tommy turned his back to him to wash his hands of the flour and sticky dough remnants.

When he was done, though, he whipped back around, watching Techno's hand on the knife. He'd apparently exceeded his reserve of unfounded-trust-for-the-person-who'd-essentially-ruined-his-life for the day.

Which, despite the voices' croons of distress at being untrusted, Techno thought was totally fair.

Tommy was nervous, and on edge, but he didn't seem to be explicitly afraid of Techno, just anxious in general, and Techno wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

Blinking back to the present, realizing he'd just been staring blankly at the cut up bread, he looked to Tommy.

"Do we want to make shapes or just fry as is?" He asked, carefully skirting past Tommy to drop the knife in the sink.

Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully, Techno thought. He quickly rinsed the knife, and cupped his hand to let the water run over the flecks of flour and dough that clung to the sides of the sink.

Tommy opened his mouth to respond and moved past him at the same time, towards the table, shoulder barely brushing across Techno's back. Techno tensed slightly in surprise. Tommy froze, and from the corner of his eye Techno could see he was tensed up as well. After no reaction, Tommy carefully made his way back to the table.

Techno kept fiddling around at the sink, letting Tommy play with the dough while he pretended to be busy. He knew Tommy liked making all sorts of shapes out of the dough, but wouldn't do it if he thought he was wasting Techno's time.

Techno busied himself with finding a proper pot, then filling it with the appropriate amount of oil. He measured it out carefully, and tried not to be bothered about the deafening lack of Tommy's insistence that you didn't have to measure it, the right amount of oil was something you felt in your heart.

He remembered the first handful of times, way back in Hypixel, when Tommy had insisted on teaching him how to fry bread. Those attempts, rife with errors and Tommy shouting about not needing to do silly things like measure, were near disasters, almost always saved by Techno's insistence on following instructions.

Once Tommy's hands stilled and the oil was at the appropriate temperature, Techno consciously relaxed his shoulders and smoothed out his face before turning around, eyeing the flour that had made its home on Tommy's clothes.

"We'll have to get you an apron," he drawled, already thinking about the leftover rolls of cloth he'd made, and if he had any red dye laying around still.

Tommy blinked, hands nervously fluttering at his side, caught off guard. Techno stared blankly back at him, having an idea of what was going through the kid's head.

Technosoft, bounced around in his head and he rolled his eyes when Tommy wasn't looking.

"You're assuming this is gonna be a regular thing?" Tommy tried to snark, but it fell flat, voice coming out too vulnerable and soft. It pitched up at the end, as if asking for permission.

"Yeah," Techno grunted. Tommy's eyes snapped back to him, and narrowed slightly before he huffed.

"Yeah, ok, fine." Tommy crossed his arms in front of himself. "I get it, I get it, you can't live without the great Tommy Innit's amazing fried bread."

Techno snorted as Tommy continued on.

"No, no, I get it, truly, it's just not the same when I don't make it, right? I have the special fried bread making touch, I know, it's a special talent of mine that gets all the ladies." Tommy scooped up the tray of dough, bringing it along to the stove where Techno stood.

"What ladies?" Techno grunted, as he reached for dough to test fry. He ignored the fact that it really didn't taste the same when Tommy wasn't there to help/be a menace.

"I'll have you know, Technoblade, I get lots of ladies-" Tommy puffed up, moving to put his own bit of dough in the oil. Tommy wasn't really paying attention, head tilted up to try his best to look down on someone who was taller than him, as he continued defending himself.

His hand moved down too quickly, and the dough flopped down into the oil, splashing a considerable amount back on to Tommy's fingertips.

Tommy cried out, jerking his hand back to his chest.

There was barely a breath before Techno's hand shot out, grabbing Tommy's around the wrist and dragging his hand towards his face.

Tommy flinched violently, his other hand coming out to swing at Techno, catching him hard across the jaw. Techno let go of Tommy's wrist, shoving him away in surprise, sending him careening into the side of the kitchen counter.

They both stumbled away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen as the oil kept sizzling away. The only other sound was Tommy's heavy breaths and slight sniffles, and Techno watched as he furiously swiped at his eyes.

"Do not grab me like that, alright?" Tommy snarled, shoulders tensed as he looked ready to run or defend himself.

Techno slowly held his hands up again, forcing himself to relax.

"I'm sorry," he grunted out, "You're right. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

Tommy squinted at him, swaying back on to his heels as he relaxed his arms from where they'd curled up defensively in front of him.

"Sorry for hittin' you." Tommy grumbled slightly, crossing his arms.

"I deserved it," Techno huffed back, scratching the back of his head. "I was just worried about your fingers. Sorry again."

"I accept your apology," Tommy said finally after a tense pause, head tilted back again, a look on his face as if daring him to say something.

"I accept your apology," Techno said back, carefully. Communicating, expressing his feelings and being a "good person" was so hard sometimes. It felt like he was walking on eggshells and if he said the wrong thing everything would fall apart.

Tommy sniffed.

"How's that for communication, huh, Puffy?" He muttered to himself, uncrossing his arms and making his way back to the stove.

"Cmere, dickhead, we have more dough to fry."

Techno relaxed as he made his way back over, and they settled back into banter and teasing.

Techno looked down at their fried bread, an assortment of shapes and figures.

Some were more distinguishable, like the twin T's and the handful of misshapen hearts.

Before Techno could say anything, not that he would've, Tommy started to talk.

"They don't mean anything, dickhead, they're just easy to make. We're not friends or anything, alright?" Tommy puffed himself up again, and Techno absently wondered why he did that, was it subconscious? Was it for confidence or to make himself seem bigger?

Instead of acknowledging anything Tommy said, Techno lightly bumped their heads together. Techno watched as his face flickered through several different emotions, ranging from happy to sad, before he just huffed and turned back to the finished bread.

"Everyone knows the best topping is sugar and cinnamon, I don't know why you even have the honey out," Tommy snarked, aggressively sprinkling sugar on to the bread. The image was kind of ruined by how careful Tommy was being, only covering pieces that were resolutely "his".

"I like the honey," Techno responded, loading his plate with a handful of pieces of bread. He picked up a few plain pieces, unshaped and just flat bits of bread. Tommy slipped a few shaped pieces onto his plate; one that was shaped vaguely like a pig, a crown, and one of the letter T's.

On Tommy's plate was the other T, a bee, and a horribly misshapen cow, along with a majority of the wonky hearts.

Techno drizzled the honey on to his bread, eyeing the excessive amounts of sugar and cinnamon Tommy put on his.

"Y'know, you'd like the honey if you tried it," Techno hummed, ignoring the glower Tommy sent his way.

"You always say that and I never like it," Tommy hissed back, petulant and childish. A warm feeling filled his chest as Tommy settled into their old argument, that Techno knew would eventually devolve into all the other things Techno dared to like that Tommy didn't.

Techno tuned back into-

"You said the same thing about mushroom stew! And cod and broccoli. Who even likes fuckin' broccoli?" Tommy dropped down into the seat next to Techno, pulling his plate to be in front of him. Techno didn't respond, focused on lightly slathering a small piece of fried bread.

3... 2... 1...

"Well, maybe I'll try a little bit," Tommy huffed, accepting the small piece Techno held out to him with a grumbled 'thanks'. Based on his reaction after he stuffed it into his mouth he still didn't like the honey, but he didn't say anything.

They ate in silence, Tommy quickly scoffing down the bread like he was worried someone would take it. Techno ate slower, hoping Tommy would pick up on the fact that he didn't have to choke down his food. This inevitably led to Tommy finishing first, and he silently started cleaning up.

Techno quietly finished up, helping Tommy with the rest of the dishes, before going to settle in the living room. Tommy followed behind him, looking a bit lost.

Techno was hit with the abrupt realization that he didn't want this to end. He liked having Tommy around, his energy filling the house with a warmth Techno never could.

Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

"I guess I should be heading out then-" Tommy started, eyes flicking to the door.

"No," Techno said, suddenly, too loud and aggressive, making Tommy flinch back.

"I mean- do you, uh, want to have some hot cocoa?" Techno fiddled with his braid, trying his best to give a reassuring smile around his tusks. Based on Tommy's expression it didn't really work, but Tommy stopped looking like he was about to sprint away.

"Sure, I guess," Tommy grinned at him, false bravado coloring his tone. "You missed Big Man Innit? I know, I know, my company is just so great, I see why you wouldn't want to miss out on it."

Tommy practically flounced over to the couch, and flopped down on it, resting his feet on the coffee table. Techno was silently grateful that Tommy was naturally overbearing, and more than willing to make up excuses for the both of them.

Techno retreated back to the kitchen, and it wasn't long before they'd settled into the living room, Techno in his arm chair and Tommy on the couch.

Tommy had loudly insisted on a blanket and pillow, saying he was cold and the couch was uncomfortable, and Techno was quietly hoping he'd just fall asleep there. Then he could avoid kicking him out or, even worse, asking him to stay.

He'd much rather Tommy just take advantage, instead of having a conversation.

Eventually, Tommy's constant stream of chatter petered out, and he slowly slumped back into the couch, falling asleep.

Techno waited until he was sure he was asleep, before carefully checking he wasn't at an awkward angle, he didn't want to deal with the kid complaining about a crick in his neck, ok? He started towards the stairs to his room before hesitating on the first step.

The voices, practically feasting on his reluctance, started loudly protesting at once.

What if a zombie breaks in?

What if the Butcher Army comes back?

What if he has a nightmare?

Techno huffed, ignoring how irrational the last two were, the Butcher Army long disbanded and it's not like Techno cared if the kid had a nightmare.

As if the universe itself was daring him otherwise, a scared whimper broke the silence. Techno looked back to the couch, where Tommy was tightly gripping the blankets around him, and his brow was furrowed. He could see from here how aggressively Tommy was clenching his jaw, and winced in sympathy.

He made his way back over, a quiet rumble in his chest. It was a soothing noise, meant for baby piglins but it worked just as well on Tommy considering how quickly his face smoothed out. Techno settled back into his armchair, accepting that he'd be up late watching over the kid and chasing his nightmares away.

He couldn't believe he'd gotten so soft.

#bedrock bros #tommyinnit #technoblade #fic #dsmp #flux writes

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neonweeknds · 2 years

Text

what a time - chapter five

*u can read here or on ao3*

chapter five - dear patience

summary - Maybe taking a quick twenty-four-hour trip to New York City with your ex isn’t always the best idea.

Michelle slammed the door shut once both Rosé and Utica have entered the car. Rosé had just finished a rather successful fitting for her magazine shoot taking place next week and she was feeling giddy about going to dinner tonight with Denali.

“Are we just going to continue ignoring the elephant in the room?” Michelle raised an eyebrow, directly looking at Rosé. The singer glanced at Utica who gave her a sad smile.

“If by elephant you mean that horrendous scarf you’re wearing, then yes, let’s discuss. You make enough money from me to afford something better than that,” Rosé scoffed.

Michelle rolled her eyes and sighed, “You’re deflecting, Rosé,”

“Deflecting? I’m just speaking facts,”

“Can we please just have a serious conversation, for two seconds? Please,” Michelle warned, her voice becoming suddenly serious.

Rosé frowned, slightly confused. “Michelle, if this is about last night— I told you I was sorry, it won’t happen again—“

“It’s not,” she plainly said.

“Utica, do you know what she’s talking about?”

Her assistant pursed her lips, “Well, I think she may be referring to the picture that went around along with the information about your past relationship,”

Rosé wasn’t dumb, she just chose to forget about that part of her day yesterday, pushing it so far back into her brain it was practically non-existent.

That was how she dealt with her problems.

“What about the picture?” Rosé didn’t want to have this discussion right now. She was hungover, tired, hungry and she didn’t have the emotional capacity to have this conversation.

“You were with Denali last night, weren’t you?”

Rosé opened her mouth to say something but shut it immediately after realizing that there was no way she would be able to talk herself out of this. “So what if I was?” she challenged. Michelle sighed and placed her phone down on her lap, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? To be hanging around her outside of rehearsal hours?” Michelle questioned.

Rosé frowned, “To be honest, I don’t really care—“

“I know you don’t which is why I’m only trying to look out for you, the media is going crazy right now and you don’t need to draw any more attention to yourself, okay?” Michelle said.

“Maybe people should just mind their own business,” Rosé muttered.

Why did this matter so much to everyone? Who cares about her past relationships, who cares about her current ones— there were more important issues to worry about in the world than who Rosé was hanging out with.

“You and I both know that’s not going to happen,”

Rosé huffed and mumbled incoherent words to herself, deciding to be done with this conversation as she gazed out the window.

“Are you okay?” It was Utica who spoke this time. She had been Rosé’s assistant for around the same amount of time that Michelle had been her manager. The girl was relatively quiet, extremely sweet and soft-spoken. She and Rosé immediately hit it off and became friends— if you could even classify your assistant as a friend.

Rosé forced a smile and nodded, “Great,”

“I’m sorry,” the redhead frowned, pushing up her glasses on her nose.

She knew what she was apologizing for and so Rosé shrugged, “Me too,”

A few moments passed in silence, the sound of Michelle’s nails typing against her phone screen along with bustling streets of Chicago was all she could focus on. “Maybe it’s not a bad thing…you know,” Utica continued, “It’s finally out…you don’t have to stress about people finding out anymore,”

Rosé knew she was trying to be helpful but it wasn’t working. “That’s not really the point,” she said.

“People are supporting you— praising you even! It’s a good thing— you don’t have to be scared anymore—“

“Stop,” she failed at saying loud enough for her assistant to hear to she continued on her rambling. “—And think about how much this could help others, right? Screw the people who are being asses because—“

“Utica, please shut up!” her tone came out harsher than she would’ve liked, she didn’t mean it. Immediately, guilt consumed her. She could no longer hear the sound of nails on glass and the whole car was silent. She faced Utica and Michelle, who were both now looking at her with concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get mad,”

Utica shook it off like it was nothing, “I pushed, I’m sorry— I just don’t like seeing you this way,”

Michelle reached over and rubbed a comforting hand on Rosés leg, “Sugar, we’re here for you, alright? I know this isn’t what you wanted or maybe envisioned how your whole coming out would be but honestly, who gives a rat’s ass?“

Rosé scoffed, “Uh I kind of do. I wasn’t ready for the whole fucking world to know yet,”

“And that’s fine, no one’s expecting you to be okay with it. You’re in a really shitty situation right now because no one deserves what you’re going through right now…we just want to help you. All of us, me, Utica, Symone…I don’t want you to go back…” she trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

Rosé knew exactly what she was talking about.

She didn’t want her to go back down her self-destructive path. Michelle had worked so hard to pull Rosé out of it she didn’t want to watch her succumb to her old ways.

Drinking till the sun came up. Never sleeping. Not taking care of herself.

She was getting better, finally and now, of course, her being outed to the world had to happen.

“I know,” Rosé said.

Utica turned to her, “I know you feel like a part of yourself was ruined by this but guess what? Your identity isn't worth compromising. This is who you are and once you understand that, it’ll feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It sucks— and I’ll never be able to understand what you’re feeling right now but it only goes up from here,” she said.

“You’re the boss here. Sometimes you may lose control, but right now, you’re in the driver’s seat, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid to take the steering wheel because only you can decide what you’re going to make of this. How’s that for an analogy?” Michelle teased, trying to light up the mood in the vehicle.

The singer cracked a smile. Deep down, she knew they had a point. Rosé was only looking at the bad, terrifying and anxious parts of what happened. Maybe somewhere beneath the storm, there was a rainbow hidden amongst it.

If she had it her way, this would’ve never happened— not now at least. Not until she was ready. But then Rosé got to thinking…what if she was never ready? What if there was never a time to be ready for this kind of thing. She was terrified of the repercussions, of what people were going to say and think of her now. She knew this was going to affect her career in ways she didn’t want and she knew that going forward, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Then Michelle’s words really sunk in on her.

She had the power to change that— and she was going to.

Rosé didn’t know what was going to happen next. Rosé didn’t know what being out meant for her or her career. This whole thing fucking sucked and she would be lying if she said that being outed was a positive thing— because it definitely wasn’t.

One thing was for sure.

Rosé was in control now and she wasn’t going to let it slip away into the hands of some nosy paparazzi and the meddling media.

She was in charge.

The studio was across town making for an extremely long car ride. The traffic during the lunch rush didn’t help either. “Hey— so am I going with you to the dinner tonight? I’ll pack my medication just in case,” Utica asked.

Rosé remembered she had never told Michelle who she was bringing. “Oh, that reminds me. I invited Denali to the dinner with me,” she smiled.

“Oh, thank god,” Utica sighed in relief just as Michelle gasped, “You what?”

“I thought it would be a nice gesture since I apparently threw up in her apartment last night,” she added.

“Rosé? Are you crazy?” Michelle said.

Rosé sighed, “Pretty much, yeah,” she said. “Listen…I just really need to make things right with her, okay? Seeing her again is making me realize that all those things I felt for her— those things I felt for her ten freaking years ago, are still there…and I don’t know…”

“Do you want to get back together with her?” Utica asked. Rosé was silent as she thought.

There was no reason for her to think about it when she knew exactly what she wanted, “I mean, yeah. I never really stopped thinking about her after all these years and always thought about what I would do if I ever saw her again,”

“Showing up drunk to the first rehearsal sure put a dent in your plans,” Utica giggled but then clamped a hand over her mouth, remembering that Michelle hadn’t known about that information. “Huh, who said that?” she played it off as Rosé sighed, watching her assistant mouth a quiet apology.

“You showed up drunk to rehearsal— you know what? I don’t even want to know. Don’t make that a habit, please,” Michelle rubbed her forehead. With all the stress the singer caused, she was sure to give her manager premature wrinkles.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know that Denali Foxx was my Denali,” Rosé told Michelle.

“You never told me her last name,” she shrugged, “How was I supposed to know? Besides, the studio gave me their best choreographer— she happens to be the best so you should be thanking me, sugar”

Rosé rolled her eyes, “You literally just said I was crazy for inviting her to dinner,”

Michelle gave Rosé a pointed look, “It is, trust me. Cause last I heard you broke her heart into tiny little pieces so inviting her to a business dinner with fancy pretentious rich people wouldn’t be my first instinct when I want to apologize to someone,”

“Got a better idea?” Rosé shot back.

“Maybe talk to her…” Utica said, “Apologize properly...”

“I will— I was planning on it. I just need her to loosen up around me a little bit. She’s minutes away from chewing my head off anytime I’m near her and I turn into a freaking stuttering mess!” the pink-haired girl exclaimed.

Utica laughed, catching Rosé’s attention, “That’s cute,” she teased.

“So she just agreed to hop on a jet to New York, just like that?” Michelle frowned.

Shit.

A few minor details might’ve slipped her mind during her eagerness to persuade Denali into accepting the invitation. She wasn’t sure she even mentioned New York, let alone spending the night or taking a private jet to the city.

“...Uh I may or may not have forgotten to mention…that,” she whistled.

Utica sighed, “I’ll pack my medication—“

Rosé shook her head, “No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just tell her when we get to the studio. She’ll say yes…”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Utica pointed out.

“Thank you very much for that observation,” Rosé replied sarcastically.

Michelle groaned and rolled her eyes, “Jesus, sugar. Lord knows I can’t change your mind but just…be careful. With everything. From her emails, she seems like a nice girl and I’m sure I’ll find out tonight but…” Michelle sighed, “I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she shrugged.

Silently, Rosé agreed.

Rosé forgot to mention a little something when she had invited the brunette to dinner later that night

That it took place in fucking New York.

She was rightfully a little upset at the information Rosé shared with her when she first got to rehearsals. Unlike her, she couldn’t just go to New York on a whim when she wanted to. She knew she had already agreed to go to the dinner with Rosé but this was all a little too crazy.

A twenty-four-hour trip to New York was not what she had planned for her week.

Rosé assured her that it was all expenses paid but that was the last thing she was worried about.

Denali had no idea where she and Rosé stood right now. One minute they’re fighting, the next they’re making awkward small talk and last night she was letting Rosé cry on her shoulder. To be honest, she knew agreeing to go to dinner with her wasn’t exactly the best idea she had…but she was hoping she could talk to Rosé about what happened last night along with other things. Besides, when agreeing, she knew the pair would be surrounded by other people so it wasn’t like it would just be the two of them...alone.

So Denali said yes to dinner. She hoped it would allow her to alleviate the tension between them, making it easier for her to explain how she felt about…everything. It was eating away at her and she just needed to get these things off her chest, especially now that she had the opportunity to do so.

However, when Rosé had so casually said that it would require them flying to New York, she took a little bit to reconsider.

Because it was absolutely crazy.

Then, throughout the whole rehearsal today, Rosé was acting as if she was a regular old client…like the past couple of days hadn’t happened– it was strictly professional.

That was what she wanted though, right? She wanted the two of them to stay professional so Denali didn’t fall in deeper than she already had. So why did Denali feel a little hurt when she watched Rosé joke and talk with the other dancers while not giving her an ounce of attention besides the bomb she dropped before they started rehearsals.

Luckily for her, Mik had joined her today in the studio since his last client of the day cancelled on him, so she had him to keep her company.

But Denali was getting frustrated because she couldn’t understand why she felt this way when things were so clearly going her way. Why was she so upset about it?

Denali spent the entire rehearsal actually considering hopping on a plane to New York City for a night with Rosé.

She thought she was crazy for even considering it but Mik had a few other opinions.

“I say do it gorg,” he said. He had been watching from the sidelines the whole rehearsal. “It’s a free trip, free fancy dinner, a free night in an expensive hotel. Where’s the issue?”

“So you spent all of the rehearsal giving her dirty looks because…you want me to go?” Denali said.

“I’m your best friend, obviously I need to scare her a little bit! But Nali, it’s a trip to New York! Just because I may not like her doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the gesture— especially the value of it,” he shrugged.

“I don’t care about money, Mik. I just…” she trailed off, “You’re supposed to tell me that this is a bad idea,”

“Sorry gorg, but that’s Liv’s job— Nali, this sounds like you’re just looking for a reason not to go,”

“Well duh! This whole thing…I’m conflicted and I don’t want to give off the wrong impression, you know?”

“And that impression is?”

Denali stared at her best friend, dumbfounded, “That this— I don’t know! That it’s more than it actually is!” she sighed, “Mik, you know why…” she trailed off.

“I think that became a little too late the second you agreed to go to a business dinner…” Mik scoffed, “Like, c’mon, that’s definitely a code for something else. Why would she ask you, out of all people, to go to New York with her if it was just some random dinner,”

Denali scowled, “Gee, thanks,”

“You know what I mean though! I’m sure she could’ve gotten someone else to go with her but she asked you…and she went over to your place last night…that means something,”

“She was practically ignoring me today during rehearsals…” Denali said. She hated that it bothered her. The whole point of trying to keep things professional between the two of them was so Denali didn’t get attached— more than she already was. She didn’t think it would be good for either of them.

So why was she even agreeing to go to dinner in the first place?

“Why do you care huh? Thought you wanted it to be that way?” he smirked slightly, knowing he caught Denali in what she had been trying to avoid. “So maybe if you go…it’ll help you sort of figure out how you feel about her—“

“I already know how I feel about her,” Denali frowned. Mik gave her a look as if to say that he didn’t believe her, “Really, cause right now you don’t seem so sure— what’s the harm in going, hm? Think about it cause—“

“Hey Nali— oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?” immediately Denali and Mik put a stop to their conversation. Denali cleared her throat and shook her head, “No, no…we were just talking about…” but the brunette came up with nothing.

“We’re talking about you,” Mik plainly said. Denali slapped his shoulder and rolled her eyes, “Ow! It’s true! I’m not gonna lie to her, she can like…totally ruin my life if she wanted to!” Mik screeched.

“She’s a celebrity— not part of the fucking mafia,”

“That’s basically the same thing— I’m Mik, by the way. Denali’s best friend,” he held out his hand for Rosé to shake, who took it cautiously. “Rosé,” she introduced herself, “And I’m definitely not a part of the mafia— well not anymore,” she joked.

Mik burst out laughing, shaking his head, “I like you a little more now— hey, do you think Symone would let me do her makeup? I’ve been dying to paint her ever since—“

“Okay, okay Mik, I think it’s time to go….you don’t want to be late meeting up with Liv, right?” Denali gave him a look that she was hoping he would understand and just go along with. Mik caught on, nodding, “Right, well, Nali…have fun on your little trip. Call me or Liv if you need anything. Have fun— but not too much fun,” and with that, he was skipping down the hallway, leaving Rosé and Denali alone.

Rosé laughed, “He seems nice,”

“He’s a pain in my ass,” Denali shook her head, “So um, what did you want to talk about?”

Rosé seemed to remember what she originally came to Denali for, “Oh, right! The dinner…you’re still coming, yeah?”

She knew she should say no. The word was on the tip of her tongue, but when she opened her mouth, what she wanted to say was not what came out of her mouth, “Yeah, I’ll still go. If you want me to,”

The singer smiled, “Great! Of course, I do— sorry for the whole not telling you it was in New York— I’m just used to being around my group of people I guess,”

“Yeah, maybe warn me next time,” she laughed. She then wanted to slap herself after she realized she insinuated this was going to happen on more than one occasion.

Rosé didn’t seem to mind, “I’ll try,” she said, “Uh so, if you’re ready now, my driver is here and he’ll take us to the airport. My manager and assistant will meet us in the city,”

“Oh, well, I don’t have any other clothes with me,” Denali said. Rosé shrugged it off, “I’ll take care of that,”

Denali furrowed her eyebrows, “I also don’t have my passport with me,”

At this, Rosé smirked, “Don’t worry, you’re not gonna need one,”

A private jet.

Of course, Rosé had her own private jet, why wouldn’t she?

It was a lot.

The last time she was on a plane she was cramped between a middle-aged lady who was snoring and a guy who wouldn’t stop talking about the movie he was watching. Now she was alone with Rosé, on this big plane with things Denali didn’t even think was possible to have on a plane.

There was a whole ass shower in the back.

Besides the tour Rosé gave Denali when they first got on the jet, she didn’t remember much because she fell asleep the second the plane took off in the air. Her night of no sleep had finally caught up to her and surprisingly, she slept well.

Until Rosé awkwardly woke her up.

“We’re almost there— I thought you might want to get changed before we landed cause we’ll be going straight to the restaurant,”

She felt pretty disoriented when she woke up, suddenly remembering she was travelling thousands of feet in the air with her ex-girlfriend on her way to one of the biggest cities in the world to have dinner with her and other big named important people.

It took a few minutes but Denali managed to get up, walking down the jet until she spotted Rosé who was fixing her hair. “Did you sleep well?” the question surprised Denali but she found herself smiling at the gesture.

“I did, yeah,”

“Good...uh so I have a suitcase with some clothes on the seat over there. You can look through it and feel free to take whatever you want,” Rosé said.

Denali knew it was weird. They were tiptoeing around one another, both scared to make the wrong move. Without dwelling too much, Denali tried to focus on the fact that she was going to be in New York in less than an hour. She was going to try her best to have fun.

She moved over to where Rosé had said the suitcase was and began rummaging through it. Denali could guarantee that half of these outfits probably cost more than her rent. Even now, the two girls had vastly different styles. Rosé always went for an edgier look. From what she had seen so far, the singer’s wardrobe consisted of a lot of black, mesh, chains and anything that Denali would never wear. As for Denali, when she wasn’t in workout clothes, she always preferred that sort of classy feminine look— dresses, skirts, blouses.

While looking through the suitcase, she sorta wished she went back to her apartment quickly to grab something. It was clear by the type of clothes Rosé had in this suitcase the dinner was going to be very fancy— which only made the brunette more nervous than she already was. She was close to giving up until she dug to the very bottom, finding a little black dress that was absolutely stunning.

“You should wear that one,”

Denali was startled by Rosé’s presence behind her. She turned around and realized Rosé was done getting ready. Her jeans and graphic shirt had transformed into a matching dark red set— form-fitting pants and a blazer. The sight had Denali’s brain wandering into places it most definitely shouldn’t. She had on a bit more makeup than before and her hair was curled and sat on her shoulders perfectly.

“Denali?” Rosé called.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, “Hm? What sorry?”

Rosé laughed, “I said you can use the bathroom to get changed if you want,”

“Right,”

Before she left, Denali went into her purse and grabbed the small makeup bag she kept with her. She had learned to keep one in her purse at all times since she always found herself going on last-minute dates after her shifts at work. Denali was someone who preferred to look put together all the time but with minimal effort. Which was why she had mastered her makeup routine years ago— being able to look like she was walking a red carpet event in twenty minutes tops.

She was able to get changed, do her makeup and fix her hair in fifteen.

The dress she borrowed fit her perfectly. It fell just above her knees and the neckline was cut down the middle, making her boobs look fantastic. Luckily, she wore boots while going to work today and they ended up matching perfectly with the dress.

Opening the door to the bathroom, she just about ran into Rosé who looked like she was about to knock on the door. Immediately, she watched as the singer looked her up and down and she couldn’t lie— it felt good.

Maybe Rosé would realize what she had left behind and what she was missing.

No— she had to remind herself that this was not the time nor the place.

“Sorry, did you need the bathroom,”

Rosé blinked before shaking her head, “Uh no—“ she cleared her throat, “We’re landing soon, we need to sit down now,”

Denali smiled at her and nodded, “Okay,” and she was walking back to her seat. She turned back around when she realized Rosé wasn’t following, “You coming?”

She watched Rosé mumble something to herself before nodding. They both sat down, waiting for the plane to land in New York. Denali busied herself by going on her phone for a bit.

When they finally landed, Denali hadn’t realized how cold it actually was in the city and she shivered when they were stepping outside of the plan. Before she could go any further, Rosé called her name. Denali turned around to see Rosé holding out a leather jacket for her— her leather jacket, something Denali knew she wore religiously and had since they were kids.

She still had it after all these years.

“Don’t want you to be cold now,” she told her, thinking back to when Denali gave her a ride back to her hotel for the same reason.

It was funny to think that was just a few days ago and how much had happened.

Denali accepted the jacket, “Thanks,”

“You look really good tonight,” Rosé complimented.

“Could say the same about you,” Denali paused and then said, “Red is your colour,” she surprised herself by saying.

There were a million different ways tonight could play out and Denali was equally eager and nervous to find out.

Rosé was trying so hard not to stare at Denali but she was making it so damn hard.

The dress that she was wearing was a gift from a designer she had received ages ago. She never got the chance to wear it mainly because it wasn’t her particular style, but she was glad it found its way to the brunette sitting next to her.

She looked phenomenal.

She kept stealing glances at Denali every five seconds. She knew Michelle was going to tease her about that later ever since she made eye contact with her manager while practically drooling over Denali.

Rosé would be lying if she said that this dinner wasn’t making her nervous. It was Hytes fashion house for god’s sake— Brooke Lynn was one of the biggest designers in the country right now and it hadn’t fully sunken in yet that she could possibly be working with her.

That is if she made it through this dinner.

She was also nervous as shit because Denali was here with her. Rosé realized that tonight could go one of two ways and there was not much room in between.

Her mind was currently all over the place as she was constantly thinking about anything and everything. The media, this dinner, her music video, her album, Denali— her brain would not shut off.

She especially couldn’t stop thinking about the events of last night and it had been bumming her out all day. Every time she walked into a room today, she had received either pitiful sympathetic looks— she was tired of it. The only thing that managed to brighten up her mood was Denali. When she agreed to go to dinner, not once but technically twice, she was over the moon. Seeing her during rehearsals helped a lot too.

Although, throughout the day, she could tell that Denali wasn’t one hundred percent there with her. From years spent together, she knew how Denali acted when something was bothering her and after today, Rosé had an inkling feeling it had to do with her.

Rosé really needed a win at the moment and she hoped that tonight was going to allow that.

With introductions out of the way, the six of them were enjoying having dinner in peace. In a private room at the very back of the restaurant, she and Denali sat side by side, Michelle was on Rosé’s other side and across the table was Brooke Lynn Hytes and her wife Vanessa Mateo along with their assistant, Scarlet.

Denali got along great with everyone and they seemed to be enjoying her presence which made Rosé all the more relieved even though she didn’t doubt her in the first place.

Rosé had been on plenty of business dinners in her time and most of them have been spent talking about— well business. But not one word about the fashion campaign had been uttered by Brooke Lynn, Vanessa or their assistant. The environment was different than what she was used to, it felt a lot more chilled out and like they were actually interested in her life.

It was going well and that was all Rosé could ask for.

“You working on new music then?” Vanessa asked her.

“It been a while but yeah…been writing non-stop, going into the studio when I can— it’s all happening slowly but surely,” she smiled excitedly.

Brooke Lynn grinned, “Don’t worry, when the time comes Vanessa will be blasting your music around the house until she gets tired of it— which won’t ever happen,”

Rosé had never met Brooke Lynn or Vanessa before. Hytes fashion exploded with success only a few years ago, their innovative take on the fashion world was something new and something people had never seen. Brooke Lynn did the designing and creating while Vanessa handled the business part. Nonetheless, their success became bigger and bigger as time went on and they were the go-to names on everyone’s lists.

Through the media, Rosé realized she had been a victim of her own prejudice judgements. After seeing countless articles and interviews, Brooke Lynn always seemed very intimidating and unapproachable but as she sat with her at this table, watching her make sarcastic remarks and talk about things she never imagined a world-famous designer would talk about, she knew to never judge a book by its cover. Vanessa, on the other hand, was super carefree and loud, making Rosé laugh so much during the evening she had almost done a spit take with her wine on multiple occasions. Watching them together, Rosé could tell that the couple brought out the best in one another.

“Hey! Don’t be telling her that!” Vanessa scolded her wife who was smiling from ear to ear, “Not my fault your music makes me wanna shake ass,” she shrugged.

“And that is exactly what it’s intended for,” Rosé joked.

They asked her more questions about her upcoming music along with other projects she had planned and Rosé tried to answer them as best as she could without giving too much away. She also had to remind herself she was still on contract.

Once the food was served, conversation topics switched quickly to the vibrating brunette next to her. “What about you Denali?” Brooke Lynn asked while Denali was in the middle of her taking a sip of her wine.

She placed the glass down and smiled, “Sorry?” she asked seeming confused by the question.

“You’re a choreographer, correct?” Brooke Lynn clarified.

“Oh, yeah! I am— I mean sorta. I teach dance to little kids but I also teach exercise classes— zumba, aerobics, anything that gets middle-aged ladies excited to work out,” she chuckled.

“Vanessa used to teach dance too,” Brooke Lynn said as she glanced at her wife lovingly.

“Yeah and I wanted to strangle every single one of those little monsters,” she grumbled.

The table burst out laughing and Denali nodded in acknowledgement, “Honestly, half the time I wanna strangle the parents more— it’s been a nice change of pace working with Rosé. You know, there’s no mom screaming in my ear and calling me a bitch when I refuse to let her daughter run around and lick the mirrors so…” she shrugged and once again, laughter erupted around the table.

“I’ll take that as a compliment— I’m a delight to work with,” Rosé added and quickly shared a look with Denali, flashing her a smile.

“Yeah so don’t let it get to your head,” Denali teased.

“Hang on, working with— I thought you guys were together? Like dating?” Scarlet, who hadn’t been talking very much during dinner, asked innocently as she pointed her finger between the two of them.

The air in the restaurant shifted, a sudden awkward silence surrounding them.

“No,” Denali cleared her throat and plainly stated, “We aren’t,”

Rosé was taken aback by the tone of her voice and the way she said it. Almost like that was the worst thing Scarlet could’ve assumed.

Scarlet was either extremely oblivious or just didn’t care and liked pushing people’s buttons, “Really? So you never dated at all? But the articles—”

Denali smiled uncomfortably, “We were together and now we’re not,” she said, “Simple as that,”

Scarlet nodded and took a bite of her food, not noticing the warning looks Brooke Lynn was throwing her, “I guess I just thought that with the pictures and you coming to this dinner yall were like secretly dating after—“

“Well, we’re not! So just drop it, okay?” Denali snapped.

“Alright— I think we get it Miss Envy,” Brooke Lynn interrupted harshly, saving her from any further embarrassment if she were to open her mouth once more. Scarlet’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as she realized her mistake and her face flushed. It was quiet for a few moments, no one in the room was sure what to say next.

“This rigatoni is really good,” Michelle commented but Rosé wasn’t sure anything would save the mood. Denali’s chair screeched when she moved to get up, “Excuse me,” and Rosé watched her disappear around the corner.

Rosé met Scarlet’s eyes and she genuinely looked like she was going to cry. “I am so sorry— I-I didn’t mean to cause anything, I was just curious and it was inappropriate of me to even mention it,” she whimpered, probably scared that Brooke Lynn or Vanessa would fire her and honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if they did.

Rosé nodded, “I’m gonna go see if she’s okay,” she told the table and got up, following the same pathway Denali took. When she was walking away, she could already hear Brooke Lynn beginning to scold the assistant. She checked the bathroom first but it was empty when she poked her head in.

She couldn’t have gone far. She did notice that Denali grabbed her bag but she doubted she would go off alone in a city where she wasn’t familiar with her surroundings.

Instead of causing a scene while running around the restaurant shouting her name, she stopped a waitress who was walking and asked if she had seen someone who fit Denali’s description. Surprisingly, she nodded and pointed towards the back exit of the restaurant.

Of course. The two of them entered the restaurant this way so Rosé wouldn’t draw attention to herself since the restaurant seemed to have lingering paparazzi staked out in the front.

Opening the back door, the cold air made her shiver since she had taken off her blazer not long after they arrived at the restaurant. Glancing from left to right, it wasn’t difficult to spot the figure leaning against the beige walls of the building. There was a small flicker of fire moving around in the dark as Denali caught her eye.

“Mind if I bum one?” she asked, shuffling towards her. Denali took out the cigarettes and a lighter from her bag and handed them wordlessly to Rosé. They smoked alongside each other in the darkness, the noise of the busy streets filling the air.

The brunette crushed her cigarette on the bottom of her foot when she was done and crossed her arms, “Did I ruin your dinner?” she asked quietly.

Rosé blew out some smoke, “You didn’t,”

Denali shrugged, “Probably shouldn’t have screamed at her though,”

“It was either you or Brooke Lynn so if I were Scarlet, I’d call that a win,”

“Everyone’s seen that picture then, hm,” Denali said. Rosé sighed, putting out her cigarette and moving closer to stand next to her, “Seems like it…does it bother you?”

“What? You mean my life being discussed by people who know nothing about it or me? The fact that people think they deserve a right to know what’s going on in my private life because I drove you home once,” she snapped, “Yeah, it bothers me,”

Rosé understood how she felt. She had been feeling like that for the last ten years. “You just gotta ignore it,” she tried to reassure her. People moved on quickly. Sure it would be the hot Hollywood gossip right now but in two weeks the public will move on to the next celebrity pregnancy or some sort of cheating scandal. “Besides, would it really be that bad?”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Rosé shrugged, “It’s not the end of the world if people think we’re dating…we were so…” she trailed off.

Rosé wanted to tell her how she felt. She wanted to tell her how she was still in love with her, how she wanted a second chance, how sorry she was about what she did and how she would do whatever it took to fix it.

But it was too late.

“Were. Past tense. We aren’t anymore and haven’t been for ten fucking years. Of course, it would be bad! Rosé, I have a life and I don’t need your name attached to mine for the rest of it! Do you know how many dirty looks from teenagers I’ve gotten since that goddamn picture came out? I don’t want this and I never will,”

“Alright, geez...just relax, it’ll blow over soon anyways,” Rosé muttered, becoming slightly irritated.

“How can you be so chill about this? Do you care? At all? You might be used to this but I most certainly am not. I don’t drive in a car with tinted windows, I don’t have a six-foot-five buff guy following me five days out of the week, I don’t wear sunglasses in the middle of the night and I sure as hell don’t take the back exit to get into a restaurant,” she said, “How are you not freaking the hell out,”

She was right, none of this was normal for the average person so she didn’t blame her for being a little anxious, scared even. But she hated the way Denali was acting like this was all her fault as if she had any control over what happened, “And who said I wasn’t?” Rosé said, “Every single time my name is coming out of someone’s mouth I freak out because I never know if it’s going to be good or bad. I have been freaking out since the very beginning of my career, I’ve just learned how to deal with it after so long,” she snapped, “I get that this is fucked up but you can’t be blaming me for this. I don’t want this just as much as you,”

She watched Denali take a deep breath, “I’m not trying to blame you. I’m sorry...this is all just— well it’s too fucking much to deal with,”

Rosé nodded, “I know...look, let’s just go back inside, Scarlet will apologize to you, you can apologize to Scarlet and all will be right in the world,” Rosé gestured towards the door and started heading towards it. She turned back around once she realized Denali was making no move to follow her and instead was staring back at her with an angry expression.

“And why am I apologizing exactly?” she spat.

Rosé rolled her eyes, “Well you did yell at her, storm off in the middle of an important dinner— my important dinner so I don’t know, it’s only common fucking courtesy after you almost made someone cry”

Denali glared at her, “Are you kidding me right now?” Denali groaned, “If you really think I’m going to go back in there and apologize after Scarlet threw our personal business in our face, I think it’s time you lay off the wine!” she said.

“It was an accident, she probably didn’t realize she was upsetting you,” Rosé sighed.

“This has to be a joke,” Denali mumbled to herself, “God, can you make up your mind? Five fucking minutes ago you just said I didn’t ruin your stupid dinner and now what? You’ve changed your mind? You agree with me until you realize that it affects you cause god forbid you might not be untouchable for once!”

“Denali, I’m going to get in trouble for this— please, just stop letting your pride get in the way!” Rosé just wanted to end this conversation as fast as she could.

Denali scoffed, “That’s rich, coming from you,” she shook her head, “Do you have any idea how infuriating you are? I can never get a read on you, you act so indifferent to everything all the damn time and your moods switch faster than I have time to keep up! What the hell do you want from me?” Denali choked out and Rosé knew instantly she was seconds away from tears.

But Rosé was already fired up, “And you don’t? All I want is for things to go back to normal! God, Nali every time I see I think we’re making some sort of progress and then you shut me out like you always do!” Rosé frowned.

“Because you keep acting like the last ten years didn’t happen! I don’t know what normal is with you anymore...I am not the same, why don’t you understand that?” she said, “When are we going to stop pretending?”

“About what?” Rosé frowned.

“Us!...about us, Rosé...” Denali hopelessly said, “We aren’t together anymore and we’re not friends…I don’t even know what’s real anymore and…I just— I can’t keep doing this. Jesus, I shouldn’t have even come here, what the hell was I thinking—“ Rosé watched as Denali walked away from her, but not towards the exit and instead down the alleyway and to the streets of New York. Denali didn’t turn back or even acknowledge the singer as she called out her name repeatedly, watching her eventually disappear around the corner of the building.

Fuck.

Somehow Rosé knew the night was far from over.

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weuschoiceheart · 3 years

Text

🔑Keiys To Your Heart - Romeo and Juliet

~Inspired by @bluejayjay and @choi-seonset conversation about Seon acting out Romeo and Juliet....

Taglist: @baekhyuns-star @choi-seonset @raftel-is-waiting @mysticpenguincreation @lifeisamuffin @bluejayjay @soft-black-teabag (dm me to be tagged!)

Genre: fluff, mostly CrAcK, pining, Pining, PINING, theater!au, Seon playing matchmaker with Jaeho as his sidekick, K x female!reader

Warning: cursing, prepare yourself for cringe

Summary: In which Seon is sick of seeing K and Y/n pine for each other, so when the school play started up, he forced the K to audition, hoping he’ll get the main role while Y/N (typical theater student) gets Juliet. To his shock, however, another student snatches Juliet’s role and Seon is forced to rethink his plan.

Part 1/? : Next —>

————— ————— ————— ————— ————— —————

“Seon.”

“K.”

“Seon.”

“Seoff.”

K threw his hands up in exasperation. “No!”

Seon crossed his arms, lips pursed in a thin line. “Oh, come on. You know it’s a good idea! I’m so tired of you being whipped for her, and not even doing anything about it!”

“I’m not whipped-”

Seon rolled his eyes, “sure, and Moona isn’t whipped for Jay.”

K frowned. “Doesn’t she like Heeseung?”

Seon waved his hand carelessly, “same thing, same thing.” Before K can open his mouth to say that they are, in fact, not the same thing, Seon pressed on. “Look, this can be your chance to show something, give her some signs, get closer. And if she doesn’t like you back, which is impossible because I’m sure she does, then it won’t matter ‘cause you’re just playing your role as adoring Romeo. AND-” Seon glared at K, who was about to interrupt, -”it’ll look good on your college application!”

“For your information, I’m already certain that I’m getting into college through an athletic scholarship,” K said. “So right now, I just need to focus on track, not some fancy theater play that I never even tried out for.”

“Well, it will make you even more appealing because it shows that you’re versatile and willing to try out new things!” Upon seeing K’s still unconvinced face, Seon decided to cut the dramatics (ugh, bad pun). “I’m only saying that you should try, you know? If you don’t make it past the audition, fine, whatever. I’m only trying to help you out.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle my love life myself.” K turned back to the stack of books in front of him, burying himself back to studying for his calculus exam. Curse his math teacher for giving him a test on such a short notice, even though it’s only been a few weeks since everyone had come back to school.

“With how you’re handling it right now, it would be graduation and you still wouldn’t have confessed,” Seon mumbled to himself. He stuffed his essay papers in his bag and stood up. “I gotta go, Jaeho’s waiting for me outside. See you later.”

“Mhm.” Seon sighed at K’s incoherent muttering, before making his way out of the library. Well, if you don’t decide to speak up, then I’ll have to play matchmaker here and you’ll thank me later for keeping your nonexistent love life from dying.

K stretched his arms above his head and yawned, before ducking his head sheepishly as the librarian glared at him, probably done with his and Seon’s constant bickering. Ah well, at least now he could finish studying in peace without someone pestering him to grow some balls and ask his crush out. None of that, no distractions—

His phone vibrated and lit up with a message, making his eyes widen at who it was from.

Y/Nie ❤❤: Hey K! I hope you didn’t forget about our meeting for the group project :)

K gasped. Oh shit-

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

K opened the door to the cafe, panting slightly. He had ran here as fast as he could (thank god he’s on the track team) and upon seeing you pressing your face to the window with a worried expression, he mentally chided himself. How can you be so stupid? You’re supposed to meet her twenty minutes ago - wow, she looks so beautiful - and now you kept her waiting - her pout is so cute-

Shaking his head, he realized that he have been standing at the entrance of the cafe, staring at you for who knows how long, and now some of the customers were giving him weird glances. Making his way over, he sat down in front of you and tapped your shoulder.

You jumped slightly in surprise, your face relaxing into a bright smile upon seeing him. “You’re finally here!”

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—for keeping you waiting—” Lovely, now he can’t even form proper sentences in front of you. Y/N! Stop smiling at me like that! It’s frying my brain!

Thankfully, you just let out a short laugh, finding his stuttering cute. “It’s fine, we all forget sometimes. Should we start working now?”

Nodding, K took out his laptop, grateful for a distraction so he doesn’t make a fool of himself again. The two of you started to work in relative silence, comparing notes every now and then. After half an hour, you called for a break.

“How have you been doing these days?” you swirled the straw around the cup of your Frappuccino. K had offered for pay for it, though you adamantly refused. K sipped his own ice tea, pondering on the question.

“Stressed over exams, because apparently my teachers decided that they should all give tests right as the school year started,” K rolled his eyes, making you laugh. God, he loves your laugh. “Besides that, training for track because we have another competition coming up in a month, trying to get all these assessments done, dance team...yeah it’s a lot,” K ruffled his hair in frustration. You made a noise in agreement.

“Yeah, I have a research paper I still need to finish, as well as stupid lab reports about bacteria,” you wrinkled your nose. “Not to mention, I need to practice for the upcoming play.” You sighed. “I don’t know why they decide to pick Romeo and Juliet out of all the shows we can do, I bet my English teacher bribed Ms. Lee so she can ramble on about the importance of Shakespeare’s plays again.”

“Oh right...you’re auditioning for Juliet’s role, right?” K suddenly flashed back to his conversation with Seon.

You nodded. “I probably won’t get it though, I’m not that good at portraying medieval characters. Besides, the only time I got the lead was when we couldn’t find enough people to play Sleeping Beauty last year.”

“I remembered that,” K still recalled how jealous he was seeing you kiss another boy, even though it was just acting. Seon had practically dragged him over to the stage after the performance ended, berating him to confess, but K had wimped out. “I’m sure you’ll get the part though, you’ll make the perfect Juliet.”

“You think so?” you could feel your face heating up, and looked down, flustered. K realized what he just said, and blushed, fumbling around with his fingers. “Thanks, but...I’m not that good, really. Me getting the role of Juliet is as likely as you dropping out of track or auditioning for the play.”

“I’m going to audition though.”

“Huh?” you looked at him confused. K stared back, as his words started to register in his mind.

Oh crap, why did I just say that—oh my gosh, how can you be so stupid— “Oh, I didn’t mean to—”

“Wait, really?” You smiled, your expression a mixture of surprise and excitement. “I didn’t know you were into theater....I mean, I don’t think you’re going to be bad or anything, um—” Y/N, get your act together, this is your crush for fuck’s sake. “I think you’ll make a great Romeo!” You winked at him, before internally cringing at yourself.

The wink almost gave K a cardiac arrest. I am so gonna regret this. But he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you’re smiling at him so radiantly like this. So he forced a smile, already imagining Seon laughing at him. “Yeah, I hope I get the part!”

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capituloperdido1 · 3 years

Text

ACOSAS Chp5

Happy Friday Everyone,

I apologize ahead for the short chapter, I've been traveling a lot the last couple of days and have not been able to write as much as i wanted. I promise to come back with 2 chapters next week.

As always, let me know if you have any feedback, or if you want to be added to the list.

Enjoy!

Warnings: sexual language, but other than that pure fluff.

Gwyn's stomach was fluttering as she walked behind the shadowsinger, Azriel's look towards her still piercing her even after five long minutes of walking. She checked herself again, her dress, her shoes, her necklace; she could not see her face but tried to touch and check if there was anything on her face.

Trying to decipher this male was more complicated than all the tasks she had done for Merrill.

The way he had just looked at her was just... lustful.

She had felt his scent changing as he took her in, combined with the intensity of his gaze.

But she still was not going to accept that it was out of attraction, there had to be another explanation. Because Azriel had too much history of tangling himself with far more beautiful women.

Elain... Mor...

She had heard bits and pieces from Nesta about the shadow's singer's love life. She knew from these short conversations that Azriel did not think himself worthy of having someone who chose him first.

She also knew that at the moment, he was pinning over the middle Archeron sister, graceful and wonderful in her own essence.

She could not blame him, from what she had seen of Elain, she was the beauty of the sisters. Her whole presence was light, class, and divinity. Even she would probably fall for Elain if she had the chance.

So there was no way he was looking at her with attraction, she probably had something on her face.

Feeling her stomach flutter even more at the idea of Azriel being attracted to her, she blurred "i read something really interesting today, about the history of Valkyries".

Azriel stopped, waiting for her to catch up to him, "i saw you reading today. I'm sorry i did not pay attention to you earlier"

"No! no please don't worry," she said, grabbing his elbow slightly, "it's not something that important anyway. I mean, the temples were probably destroyed after the Valkyries were ambushed".

"temples?" Azriel looked towards her confused.

She blushed slightly at the sight of his eyes, "right... i should start in the beginning. Basically, Valkyries were training in temples all across Prythian. They each specialized in different forms of training and powers, each court held a temple that would train females of all ages. Once their training was complete, they would be sent to a temple at the border of the Spring and Summer court. They called it Ivor, and it was said to be in a jungle-like environment that allowed only the worthy to pass through. Amanecer told me that this temple held the final test of the Valkyrie, only the women who passed through were considered full Valkyries."

She stopped, afraid she was rambling and talking incoherently.

Azriel looked amazed, "Ivor... I remember Ivor, there were rumors of soldiers who were male that were killed after setting foot there".

Gwyn's eyes opened widely, sometimes she forgot how old he was.

He continued, "it is weird i had forgotten about the temples, i remember Rhys, Cass and i would read about them. Mother.. even Rhy's sister dreamed about training in the temple of the Summer Court".

She smiled sadly, the mention of her high lord's sister squeezing her heart a bit. "So many women could've been warriors, they could've helped the last war", she looked at Azriel, "many of us could've been saved from so many tragedies if we only knew how to defend ourselves".

"There is no doubt in my mind that you would've kicked some Hybern ass out there in the battlefield. Everyone would've been scared shitless of the redhead Valkyrie running towards them", he said jokingly.

She laughed, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood.

"In all seriousness, besides looking for the trove, we should definitely try to figure out how we can incorporate all of these Valkyrie books in our training. We have expanded in the last couple of months, but i know many more females have heard about you guys and want to train with you. That includes Amanecer" Azriel said.

She blushed, looking down to her hands, "thank you Azriel, we will. I will make sure every female at least hears about us, and i will help them as much as i can."

The sound of fair music interrupted their conversation, Gwyn directed her view towards the street they were approaching. Stores overwhelmed the view of the road, vendors selling sweets, foods, clothing, armor and art. The smell of fresh fruits and vegetables filled her nose as she took in the sight before her.

The noise, the sight, the smell...

She was actually in a city, it was not Velaris but it was a place where normal people would go to.

She saw a few people walking, living in their own worlds as if nothing could suddenly happen that would change that.

There were only about fifteen walkings, but for Gwyn, that felt like if a pride of people was coming to surround her.

Her throat began to close, her heart racing faster by the second.

Vile rose at her throat, sweat poured through her pores.

She could not breathe, she needed to run away and get to a safe place.

She tried and failed to control her emotions, telling herself that it was fine. That all the people around her would not hurt her.

But she could not stop the panic rising in her body.

She took a step back, ashamed and humiliated.

She could not do it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Azriel's eyes were closed, taking in the delicious smell of spices traditional to the Day court. Out of all the things he had missed from visiting Helion, the food was at the top of his list. He remembers the night where Helion would take him walking through the city, feeding him all types of meats, rice, vegetables.

He smiled to himself, remembering when life had been a little easier.

His shadows began swirling fast around him, trying to catch his attention.

Panic, she is in panic.

Mistress is in distress.

She is leaving.

Azriel opened his eyes, turning towards the priestess.

Her brave face had turned into panicked and terrorized as she took steps to retreat from the city. Her eyes were sad, and she seemed to avoid his looks, afraid that he would judge her if she decided not to go through with this.

He extended his arms towards her, "we have two options, you can either tell me to take you back to the palace, and we will try again tomorrow. Or you can take a step forward, grab yourself on to me and look forward."

Her blue eyes shined with tears as she looked at him, hesitant to take that step.

Come on Gwyn, tiptoe if you must, but take a step towards me.

Her eyes widened, and Azriel blushed slightly at the realization that he had said that out loud.

She took one step towards him,

Two

Three

And then she grabbed his arm, looking straight in his eyes.

His shadows began to envelop themselves onto Gwyn, surrounding her arm and holding her.

She smiled again, turning her face and looking forward, "let's do this".

They take a step forward, and soon they are surrounded by the city lights.

Azriel guides her towards the small bookstore that he had visited all those years ago. The owner was an old fae who had collected books from the continent throughout the years, all genres and authors in his small stall.

Not surprisingly, Gwyn ends up almost buying the whole store. Enjoying particularly the romance section.

"This one is definitely Nesta's level of romance," she says, showing him the brown leather book with yellow pages.

"What is it about?" he says.

"A romance between an assassin and the princess" she hands him the book, "look, maybe you will finally read some good literature. Not those boring war books"

He smiles, opens the book in a random chapter, and begins reading.

I couldn’t get enough of him. I was tired and sore but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted the ache. I wanted him in me, all the time. His weight on top of me. I wanted to squeeze him in further and further. I wanted to watch his face. I wanted his sweat to drop onto me.

I got on top of him. Letting my breasts touch his face as i held him and put him in. He felt so warm in me.

I'll never forget it.

His face as i took control and he liked it. As i held his hands down and moved on top of him.

Azriel felt heat rising up his cheeks, looking shocked at Gwyn, "all you guys read is smut".

She flushed, noticing the page he now held open. Her face now of regret as she tried to take the book away from him, "that was just a coincidence. If you had opened any other page there would've been romance and adventure. This author writes really passionate romances, it just you don't know anything about romance".

He laughed, extending his arm high up so she would not be able to catch it.

Is that how she likes it? does she like to control? Words screaming in his mind.

He looked down at her neck once again, noticing the pendant moving as she jumped up trying to reach for the book. He noticed the red lips that pouted as she grew frustrated. He noticed the flushed cheeks giving away her shyness and embarrassment.

He stared at her intensely. She looked so flustered, that his mind could not help but wonder if she could be flustered in many other ways. After a kiss to her cheek, or to her mouth, or her neck. After a passionate encounter between them.

She stopped jumping, catching his strong gaze.

Her face became even redder. Which she quickly tried to hide as she looked down and began playing with her hair. Grabbing pieces of hair and tugging them behind her ear.

Azriel's temperature begins to rise at the sight of the smooth skin of her neck, the urge of grabbing it and kissing it overtaking him.

The image of Gwyn grabbing his wrist while on top of him on his mind.

Wait... What, he thinks.

Clearing his throat he extends his arm towards her and gives her the book back, "would you like to walk for a couple more minutes?"

She nods, still flushed and looking everywhere but him.

Idiot, you made her uncomfortable.

"I will take you to a couple more stores before we go, are you comfortable with that?" he asks.

"Y..yeah, it's just a bit chilly now. But i want to keep walking, if that's okay" she says, her voice soft and low.

Without thinking twice, he takes off his leather jacket, placing it around her shoulders.

Gwyn lifts her teal eyes towards him and smiles, "thank you".

They keep walking around the boardwalk, neither of them physically touching each other in fear of making a wrong move. Gwyn stops in a store that sells handicrafts traditional to the Day court. Telling him that she wants to take the chance to buy as many gifts for her friends as possible.

He waits for her outside of the store, as she insisted to go inside by herself.

Sitting on the stairs leading into the small building, Azriel traces his thoughts back to their encounter in front of the bookstore.

He had been feeling pressure in his heart, ashamed and angry at himself for making her uncomfortable.

He had lost control over his feelings, letting his mind play dirty thoughts with someone who was most likely not interested in any sexual activity.

But his mind also took him to her beautiful face, the way she seemed to shine every time she looked at him. The way the necklace highlighted the divinity of the priestess. The way her red hair looked during the day. The way her eyes changed shades during sunrise, sunset, at night.

Something in him wanted more, he wanted to see what she looked like when she slept when she awoke in the morning.

He wanted to inspect her completely, find out if she had freckles anywhere else besides her face. He wanted to taste her lips and find out if they tasted as sweet as they looked.

Sighing, Azriel grabbed his hair and looked towards the floor, frustrated and now even more angry with his selfish mind.

He was lusting after the priestess, while had unresolved issues with two females who he had also lusted over.

Elain and Mor, the two women who he could not have.

What made him think that someone like Gwyn would ever choose him?

She had to know, Nesta would've told her.

Told her how much he had hurt Elain, how Mor had done horrible things just to keep him away from her. How he had pushed his feelings onto them without thinking about the women he claimed to love.

Both Elain and Mor deserved so much better.

Gwyn deserved someone better, not him.

He could never be what they needed, his past had been clear enough.

He was destined to love but never receive love back, he was destined to hurt, destined to be alone.

"Azriel?" her sweet voice came to his ears.

Mother, he was obsessed, even hearing her while daydreaming about her.

"Azriel" sounded again.

The light and soft pressure of her hands on his arms startled him.

He looked up, finding the female looking at him with worry.

"are you alright?" she said

He quickly stood, "y...yeah I'm sorry, i was falling asleep", he lied.

She smiled, extending a paper bag towards him, "well we can head home after you open this".

A small pearl bracelet of blues and whites welcomed him once he opened the bag. White, teal, and navy blue pearls cold and smooth as he touched them.

"I know you probably won't always use it, but I wanted to give it to you, as a thank you for everything you have done for me," she said, flushing slightly.

Azriel's heart threatened to beat out of his chest, a knot forming in his throat.

No, I definitely do not deserve her. He thought.

"I will wear it, every single day," he said, putting the bracelet in his scarred hands.

She smiled, "Want me to put it on you?" extending her hands towards him.

He nods, looking at her smooth skin touching the imperfections of his hands. Looking at how the beautiful bracelet contrasted with the horrors of his skin.

"Beautiful," she said.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Neither of them said anything else as they walked back to the castle, both seemed too busy in their own minds to concern themselves with conversation.

They parted ways, promising each other to sleep only a few hours before meeting for their next challenge.

They go into their rooms, falling on their beds and closing their eyes as they hold on to that new piece of each other.

Gwyn smells the male she loves, covering herself with his jacket as she falls into a deep sleep.

Azriel touches the pearls, his mind imagining each color and what it represents. The navy blue of his siphons, which had and will dust anyone who might hurt her. White of her robes, the purity, and innocence of her heart. Teal of her beautiful eyes, that always looked at him so hopeful, so happy, so proud.

Even though the nightmares came, even though they were even more horrible than the ones before.

Neither of them noticed.

Whether by their exhaustion or by what they held so tightly, the couple awoke unaware of the terrors their mind just had endured.

Their only thought was each other.

TAGLIST: @imsointobooks @gwynkyrie @trashforazriel @meher-sumedha

Chapter 6

#gwyn acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #azriel fanfic #fanfic #acotar #post acosf #nesta archeron #nesta and gwyn #acotar fanfiction

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