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agustdwrites · 1 year

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The guys defend you when he hurts your feelings

Jin

When you arrived at the dorm, you were really excited. You’d spent all day baking cookies for after dinner and you were really proud of them. Admittedly you weren’t the best cook, but you could bake a few things really well so you wanted to surprise the boys with a treat.

You let yourself in and everyone turned to greet you. Jungkook ran over to greet you at the door. “Noona!” He said cheerfully as he hugged you. “Hey Kookie!” He gasped, “Did you bring cookies?” You chuckled, “I did and I promise they’re really good. It was my grandmas recipe.” He clapped excitedly. “Can I have one?” You rolled your eyes and opened the container. Jin walked in and chuckled just as Jungkook was reaching into the container.

“You may want to rethink that Jungkook. Are you trying to poison him Y/n?” Your expression fell as he chuckled. “Aw jagi I’m only kidding, you wouldn’t purposely poison him.” You stared down at the cookies silently, feeling really uncomfortable.

“Why would you say something like that?” Hobi said as he stood from his seat on the couch. Jin raised an eyebrow, “Say what? She’s a terrible cook, we all know that.” You closed the container and turned, walking back to the front door. “Jagi, where are you going?” Jin chuckled.

“I’m going home. I wouldn’t want to poison you with my terrible cooking.” Your tone was cold as ice. “Jagi come on.” You walked out of the dorm and slammed the door shut behind you. Everyone stared at Jin in disbelief. “What?” He shrieked.

“Who the hell says something like that to their girlfriend?” Namjoon spat. Jin raised his hands in defence, “It was a joke!” Jungkook shook his head, “It wasn’t a joke to her! It was cruel. You hurt her feelings when all she did was try and do something nice. She texted me earlier to say she was bringing cookies and she was really excited about it.”

“I’m going to go get her before she leaves.” Taehyung said as he walked out the door. “Y/n wait up!”

“I don’t get why you’re all so mad, it was just a joke.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Hyung, you’re really stupid sometimes. It was her grandmas recipe and it meant a lot to her.” A wave of guilt finally washed over Jin. “Her grandma?” Jungkook nodded, “Yeah and she was really proud of what she spent the entire day making for us. For you.”

“Tae please just let me go home.” You said, wiping under your eyes. He shook his head, “Please come back inside. We all want to try the cookies.” You sighed, “but Jin-“

“Forget what Jin said.” Taehyung smiled softly as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “He’s an idiot and the guys are really giving it to him right now.” You looked down, “I just want to throw these out..” He snatched the container from you and tore off the lid. “Tae!” He pulled out a cookie and took a bit, looking up as he tasted it. “Y/n?” He said softly.

You sighed in defeat, “Just give them back so I can get rid of them..” he swatted your hand away as you reached for the container he was now guarding with his life. “Y/n.” You whined, “What?”

“This is the best fucking cookie I’ve ever had in my life.” He said, stuffing the rest into his mouth. You perked up a little, “Really?” He nodded, “They’re actually insane, you have to teach me how to make these.” You sighed again, “Tae if you’re just trying to make me feel better..”

He shook his head, “I promise I’m not! You know me, if this cookie sucked, I would tell you.” You smiled weakly, he was right. Taehyung was the most blunt and honest person you knew when it came to food. He closed the container and grabbed your hand, “Come on. I want everyone to taste these and I want to see the look on Jin’s face when he chokes on his words.”

Taehyung pulled you into the house and you stood quietly as Taehyung gave everyone a cookie. He walked over to Jin and put one in his hand. “Your girlfriend made the best damn cookies in the world and you’re going to eat it and tell her you’re a moron.”

Jin glanced over at you, feeling horrible for what he said. Everyone took a bite of their cookies and the room filled with sounds that would make anyone assume there was something else going on. Jin took a bit of his cookie, his tastebuds screaming with happiness. “I’m sorry Jagi. This really is the best cookie in the world. I didn’t realize it was special to you, I shouldn’t have joked like I did.”

You rubbed your arm awkwardly, looking down. “These are amazing and they would be regardless of how they taste because you made them. I didn’t realize that my words were so insensitive, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” He said softly.

Taehyung stood next to you with his hands on his hips, “and?” Jin rolled his eyes, “and I’m a moron.” Taehyung patted your back and let you and Jin talk. “I mean it Jagi. I’m a complete moron. I should know better than to make hurtful jokes.” You looked up at him through your lashes, “You are a moron, and you really hurt my feelings.. but I forgive you. This time. If you do it again I’m walking out that door and nobody is bringing me back in.”

He nodded, fully understanding that what he did was wrong. “I swear it’ll never happen again. If I ever make a joke that hurts your feelings, please tell me so I know to shut up.” You chuckled softly and nodded, “I can do that.”

Everyone jumped as the smoke alarms went off. Jin’s eyes widened, “OH NO!” He ran into the kitchen where he pulled a complete burned chicken out of the oven and fanned away the smoke. You and Jungkook leaned against the doorway. “Karmas a bitch, huh hyung?” Jungkook said with a smirk. You covered your mouth as you giggled. Jin sighed, “I deserve that.”

He pouted, “So.. who wants to order in?”

Yoongi

On your way home from work, you stopped by the studio to bring the boys lunch. When you walked in, they all greeted you with big smiles and hugs, beyond excited to see you as always.

“Thank you for the food Y/n!” Jungkook said excitedly. You smiled, “You’re welcome. Where’s Yoongi? I want to say hi before I head home.” Jungkook nodded towards their studio room. “Thanks.”

“Tell him to get off the computer and eat!” Called Hobi.

You knocked on the door softly, waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you didn’t get one as he probably had his headphones on.

You walked into the studio and rolled your eyes as you could hear the music blaring from the headphones. You pulled them off his head. “You are going to go deaf Min Yoongi.” He groaned, “What did you do that for? I’m busy!” You were taken back by his tone but didn’t say anything.

“I brought food, come and eat with the others.” He shook his head and turned back to the computer, “I’m not hungry. I don’t have time to eat anyway, I have to get this done.” He put the headphones back on, acting as if you weren’t even there.

You hit the spacebar to pause his music and he groaned in frustration. “Yoongi-“ He threw his hands up in the air, “WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? JUST GO HOME!”

You stared at him in shock, your eyes brimming with tears as he put his headphones back on and pulled up his hood, completely ignoring you. When you walked out of the room, the guys all stared at you with wide eyes, having heard a Yoongi yell at you.

You smiled weakly, your bottom lip quivering, “I should go.. um.. enjoy your food.” you said quietly. You grabbed your bag, ignoring the calls of the others as you left the studio.

As soon as you were gone, everyone exchanged glances. Yoongi never raised his voice at you and you hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Jimin’s hands balled into fists as he stormed into the room. He hit the spacebar, waiting for Yoongi to look at him. Yoongi slammed his fists down on the desk and turned around, “Oh, Jimin-ah, what’s up?”

The other guys walked into the room, all looking at him disapprovingly. He hesitated, “Why are you all looking at me like that?” Jimin smacked him on the back of the head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you treat your girlfriend like that?”

“Like what? I told her I was busy.” Jimin clenched his jaw and turned to the group, trying hard not to explode. “You screamed at her and told her to go home!” Hobi said. Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows, “Yeah because she was purposely keeping me from working because she wanted attention.”

Namjoon shook his head, jaw clenched. “She just wanted to say hi and we asked her to tell you to take a break so you could come eat the food she went out of her way to bring for us.” Yoongi scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Well, she didn’t say that.” Jimin smacked him again, “BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T GIVE HER A CHANCE!”

He sighed, “It wasn’t even that bad. She didn’t argue or anything so clearly she’s not that upset. I’ll just apologize later and it’ll be fine.” Jimin chuckled sarcastically as he looked up, “Obviously you were too stuck up your own ass to realize that she ran out of here crying.”

Yoongi’s expression fell, “What?” Jimin walked back to the rest of the group, “Honestly hyung, if I was her I’d dump your ass because she deserves so much better.”

When the guys left the room he was left speechless. He didn’t even realize that he had yelled at you because he was so caught up in his work. Now that he thought about it, you were trying to say something but he cut you off.

He grabbed his phone and immediately dialled your number. He called multiple times but you kept sending him to voicemail. He texted you, “Please pick up, I’m so sorry.” He stared at the message and saw the note pop up that you’d read it. Unfortunately, that’s all you did. He ran his hands through his hair, starting to panic as he thought about what Jimin had said.

He grabbed his keys and raced out of the building, the others just watching with disgust. He drove home as quickly as he could, sighing in relief when he saw your car on the driveway. “Jagi?” He called as he walked in the door. When he couldn’t find you downstairs, he ran upstairs, calming down as he heard the shower running.

He sat on the bed and waited for you to come out. A few minutes later you walked out of the bathroom, towel drying your hair. You could see that he was sitting there, but you completely ignored him. He sighed, “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You hung up your towel and walked out of the bedroom, silently making your way downstairs to the kitchen.

Yoongi followed close behind you, feeling worse by the second. “Jagi?” You made yourself some tea and leaned against the counter. “Jagi please talk to me.” That’s when he realized you had AirPods in, clearly giving him a piece of his own medicine. He approached you slowly and pulled them out of your ears, the faint sound of Coldplay coming through.

“Y/n, I am so sorry. I never should have yelled at you. You just wanted to say hi and let me know you brought lunch but I didn’t let you.” You glared over at him before averting your gaze again. “I have no excuse for behaving the way I did but you have to believe me when I say that I didn’t even realize what I said or did. I was so caught up in work that I hurt you and that wasn’t fair.”

You looked down, arms crossed. “No it wasn’t..” you said quietly. “Jagi, I’m so so sorry. I wish I could take it back.” You grabbed your mug and started to walk out of the kitchen, not feeling up to talking. His eyes brimmed with tears as he was left with his back to you, “The guys say you deserve better than me.. and you do.”

You froze, turning around to look at him as his back remained facing you. His voice cracked, “You really are the best girlfriend in the world. You go out of your way to not only take care of me, but the entire group, and I take it for granted. I prioritized my music over the truly important things and you have no idea how much I regret it. You deserve the world and if you..” he sighed sadly as tears rolled down his cheeks, “if you want to go and find that somewhere else, I won’t hold it against you. I won’t argue because I know that I don’t deserve someone like you and I can’t force you to stay.”

“You think I want to leave you?” You asked in disbelief. He turned around, tears rolling down his cheeks, “I don’t know. I just know that I hate the way I treated you and I can’t expect you to want to be with me after that.”

You walked over to him, “Yoongi, it was one argument. It was stupid and it hurt, and I’ll admit that hearing you yell scares me, but I don’t want to leave you.” He sniffled, studying your face for any sign that you were just saying this to make him feel better. “You don’t?”

You placed your mug on the counter and wiped away his tears. “Of course not. I love you and one stupid argument isn’t going to change that. You deserve the world Min Yoongi. You are, whether you believe it or not, the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. I don’t want anyone else. You were stressed out and made a mistake, now you know not to do it again. I’m not going anywhere.”

He leaned into your touch, “I promise I’ll never make that mistake again.” You kissed him softly, “I know you won’t.” He smiled and kissed you. “I’m still mad though so go back to work so I can be angry in peace.” He rolled his eyes as you picked up your mug and walked out of the kitchen again. He chuckled, “I deserve that.”

Hobi

You were running late for practice because your boss wouldn’t let you leave. You pulled up at the Hybe building, grabbed your bag, and ran inside. The guys asked you to come along and help them practice a few things and offer your input. You weren’t much of a dancer but you were good with routines. Hobi forgot to tell you which room they were in so you had to check all of the rehearsal rooms.

When you stumbled upon Yoongi in one of the studios doing some of the most ridiculous dance moves in the cutest way possible. You chuckled as you walked in. “Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late. Where is everyone?” Yoongi smiled and greeted you with a warm hug. “They ran down to the cafeteria to grab some sports drinks, don’t worry I was late too.” You nodded, setting your bag down.

“What was that dance you were just doing?” He chuckled awkwardly , feeling embarrassed. “Oh it was nothing I was just messing around.” You smiled, “Teach me, it looks like fun!” He smiled, “I call it the Min Suga.” He started doing his little dance again and you laughed, joining him in the middle of the room dancing. You both chatted while dancing and Yoongi kept trying to add more moves into the mix so you offered some too. “What if we do this?”

After a few minutes the music was suddenly shut off. The guys laughed and applauded you and Yoongi for your dance. All but Hobi. You smiled, “There you are, I’m sorry I was late.” He rolled his eyes, “You both show up late and then I walk in on you all over each other?” Your smile dropped, “What are you talking about? We-“

Hobi held out his hand to stop you. “Don’t even try to give me excuses, we all saw what you two were just doing.” Yoongi stared at him in disbelief, “Are you fucking serious right now? You think I would do that to you? You think she would?” Hobi rolled his eyes. “No I’m completely joking and I don’t care at all that you two are obviously fucking.” He said sarcastically.

Namjoon put a hand on Hobi’s shoulder and turned him around. “What the hell are you doing? They didn’t do anything!” Hobi chuckled darkly, “No? Then explain to me why they’ve been sneaking off together so much lately and why they both just so happened to show up late today?” He whipped back around to you, anger all over his face. “You want her? You can have her!”

Jin stepped in front of you and Yoongi and put a hand on Hobi’s chest to keep him from walking any closer. “STOP! You’re being a complete asshole right now Hobi!” Hobi groaned, “SHES CHEATING ON ME WITH MY BEST FRIEND! WHY THE FUCK DON’T ANY OF YOU SEE THAT?”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Hobi yelled at you, not giving you a single chance to even open your mouth. “I’m gonna go home..” Yoongi frowned, “Y/n no you don’t have to go, we didn’t do anything wrong.” Hobi laughed spitefully at Yoongi. You grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder as you walked to the door. “Hoseok, don’t come home tonight.”

He rolled his eyes as you left the room and Namjoon ran out after you. Yoongi shoved him backwards, “YOU’RE SUCH AN IDIOT!” he ran out of the room after you and Namjoon. “Unbelievable.” Hobi said.

Jimins jaw clenched, “You have got to be the dumbest person I know.” Hobi stared at him in disbelief, “Are you kidding me? I just called them out and they ran away. It’s clear what’s going on here!” Jin groaned as he ran his hands down his face, “I can’t take this. Hobi, they’ve been spending so much time together because she wanted to write a song for you. He’s been helping her write it and he’s producing it. It was suppose to be a surprise for your birthday and now you’ve ruined it for her!”

Hobi’s heart sunk, “What?” Jin nodded his head, arms crossed in front of his chest. “They didn’t come here together either. Yoongi was running late because it’s Yoongi, and he was here right when we left to go downstairs. Your girlfriend, or possibly even ex girlfriend, was probably stuck at work or in traffic! And when we got in here, they were just dancing!”

Hobi was speechless. “Oh good, you’ve finally decided to shut up. Maybe you should have done that so they could explain!” Hobi whipped around and took off running to find you. He found Namjoon and Yoongi walking back to the studio, angry eyes staring daggers at him. “Where is she?” He panicked.

Yoongi rolled his eyes in annoyance, “She doesn’t want to see you.” Hobi’s eyes filled with tears as he ran out of the building. He looked around, finally spotting you putting your bag in the car. “Y/N!” He called. You turned around and wiped under your eyes, shaking your head as you opened your car door.

He ran over to you as fast as he could. “Wait, please! Jagi I’m so sorry! I had no idea that you guys were actually working on a song for me. I jumped to conclusions and accused you of cheating instead of asking you why you and Yoongi were spending so much time together.”

Your bottom lip quivered, “He’s my friend, Hobi! He was my friend before I even met you!” He nodded, “I know. I’m so angry with myself for everything that I said. I was jealous okay? I thought you liked him more than me and when I saw you two dancing, you both just looked so happy and it felt like my entire world was crashing down.” He ran a hand through his hair as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“You should know better than that. Yoongi was here before me because my boss kept me late. I wouldn’t never cheat on you Hobi, especially not with Yoongi. Do you have any idea how weird that would be? He’s like my brother! I love you and only you. I would never do anything to hurt you.” He nodded, “Jagi I love you too, so much. I’m so sorry I let my emotions get in the way and hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know, but you did and it really sucked that you wouldn’t even let us explain.” He sighed, “I know. I feel like such an idiot.” He took your hands in his, “Y/n, I’ll do anything to make this up to you. Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

You smiled weakly, “You don’t have to do anything. I forgive you, just don’t ever accuse me of cheating again. I would never do that to anyone, especially you.” He smiled softly and nodded. “But.. that’s me forgiving you. You may have to go to hell and back to make it up to Yoongi.” You pointed to the building where Yoongi and the others all stood looking very displeased.

“Yeah.. he’s definitely going to kill me..”

Namjoon

Ever since you and Namjoon moved in together, you had starting having game nights with the guys. They all came over once a week for drinks, food, and games. It was just a really great way for them to relax and forget about the world for a night.

A lot of the games you guys played were team based, and of course you and Namjoon always paired up, that was just a given. After playing a long game of ‘What Do You Meme’, Jungkook suggested trivial pursuit as the next game. Of course Namjoon would be the best at the game, but each of the guys where extremely knowledgeable in their own areas.

Jungkook set up the board and got everything prepared. “Alright, teams!” The first to shout out was Namjoon as always, and it was always you that he picked, tonight however, that wasn’t exactly how it went.

“I choose Yoongi!” Everyone, including you turned to him in surprise. He raised an eyebrow, “What?” Yoongi hesitated, “Um.. why aren’t you teaming with Y/n?” Namjoon chuckled, “Because I want to win, obviously.” You looked at him with a hurt expression. When he looked at you he shrugged, “What? I want to win and you’re not the best at trivia. You’re smart, but you’re not that smart babe.”

Everyone froze and stared at the two of you with wide eyes. Namjoon was looking down at his phone reading a text when your bottom lip started to quiver. “Um, I’m going to get a drink. Does.. does anyone else want one?” Jungkook stood up, “I’ll come help you.”

When the two of you walked out of the room, everyone glared at Namjoon. When he looked up he was taken aback by the stares. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Hobi shook his head in disbelief, “You just called your girlfriend stupid in front of all of us.” He raised an eyebrow, “No I didn’t. I said she wasn’t that good at trivia.”

“No, you said she’s bad at trivia and not “that” smart. Did you even see how that made her feel?” Namjoon looked at Hobi in disbelief, “She knows how competitive we all are, she would have said something if it bothered her.” Jin shook his head, “I gotta tell you, right now the only stupid person in this house is you because what you said is the dumbest thing that’s ever come out of any of our mouths.”

“What are you talking about?” Namjoon asked. Jin sighed, “The fact that you don’t even know just proves how dumb you are. What you said was heartless and narcissistic. You want to win a game so badly that you broke your girlfriends heart without even thinking about how she would feel. You only cared about yourself.“

In the kitchen you reached into the fridge and sniffled, trying not to cry. “Are you okay?” Jungkook asked softly. You nodded, not looking at him. “I’m fine, it’s just.. allergies.” Unfortunately your statement was rather unconvincing when a tear rolled down your cheek. Jungkook pulled you into his arms and hugged you.

“Am I really so stupid that my own boyfriend has to say it in front of everyone?” You hiccupped. Jungkook pulled away, “Look at me.” You wiped under your eyes and looked up at him. “You are not stupid at all. Namjoon might think he’s the smartest of all of us because he knows a little about a lot of things. He was stupid to say what he said and I guarantee the guys are all telling him off right now.”

You sniffled, “I don’t think I can go back out there.” He smiled softly, hands gripping your shoulders. “You’re going back out there and you’re going to be on team Jungkook and because I have you as my teammate, we’re going to win. So let’s go out there and prove him wrong. Okay?” You smiled weakly and nodded, “Okay.”

A few minutes later you and Jungkook walked back out into the living room with drinks and more snacks. Everyone gave you small smiles, letting you know they felt for you. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your shoulders casually. “Did you guys decide on teams because this is my partner right here and you’re all going down.”

Throughout the game, you and Jungkook were actually killing it. You never got a single question wrong and you proved yourself to be very good at trivia. You never looked at Namjoon once throughout the game but the guilt within him had his eyes glued to you. Yoongi, who was annoyed by Namjoon’s behaviour towards you, purposely messed up on most of his questions just to make sure Namjoon would lose. You knew what he was doing the second you saw the little smirk on his face.

Jungkook stood up and threw his arms up above his head. “TEAM JUNGKOOK AND Y/N WINS!” He threw himself back on the couch the hugged you tightly. “Ahh I’m so glad I had the smartest person in the room as my partner!” You chuckled as Jungkook squeezed you tightly. “Kook I can’t breathe!”

You glanced over at Namjoon who had his head down and seemed to be lost in thought. “Jagi, can we talk for a minute?” You nodded and stood up, following him into the kitchen. You crossed your arms and leaned against the counter, looking down at the floor. “I’m so sorry.” He said softly. “and I’m not just saying that because you beat me. I really mean it. I got overly competitive and said something that wasn’t true at all. I know how smart you are, you’re the only person I can actually have intellectual conversations with.”

He sighed when you didn’t reply, “I have no idea what I was thinking when I said that. I mean I was pretty tipsy, but that’s no excuse. The guys really gave me an earful when you and Jungkook left the room and it made me realize what I had actually done. The only reason I waited until now to apologize is because I wanted you to team with one of the others and prove yourself, not that you needed to.. I’m rambling now..”

He sighed and rested his head in his arms on the counter. “You hurt my feelings..” you said softly. He looked back up at you. “I know and I wish I could take it back. I would do anything to go back and make it so that never happened. What can I do to get you to forgive me?”

You smiled softly, “I already forgive you. Just please don’t ever say anything like that again. It hurt and it was embarrassing.” He nodded, “Absolutely. It’ll never happen again, I promise you.”

You tip toed and pecked his lips, “What do you say we get back out there before they destroy the place?” He chuckled as he heard Jimin and Taehyung arguing over something, “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

Jimin

You were just trying to walk down the street when fans started swarming the boys. There were hands all over the place, and people were pushing you. You were getting really anxious. You moved closer to Jimin and held onto his arm, trying really hard not to have a panic attack.

You weren’t thinking when you grabbed on to him. He wanted to keep your relationship private to avoid all of the annoying problems that come with publicly announcing an idols relationship. Most of all, he wanted to protect you.

He tried to shrug you off, not wanting anyone to reveal your relationship and post pictures online, but your grip was too strong. He pulled you closer to the middle of the group to hide the two of you but he could hear fans screaming and asking who you were.

When you got to the car, Jimin was quiet. “Are you okay Y/n?” Namjoon asked softly, concerned as he could tell you were really anxious. You nodded, “I’m okay.”

When you arrived back at the dorm, you reached for Jimins hand as you walked to the door. He moved his hand away and ignored you. You weren’t sure why he was acting that way. When the door shut behind you, you grabbed his hand before he could walk away. He ripped his hand away. “Jimin what’s wrong?” Everyone turned to look at him, immediately noticing something was wrong.

When he didn’t answer you tried again. “Jimin will you talk to me please?” He sighed and rolled his eyes, “What? What do you want me to say? Thank you for being all over me in public and outing us as a couple? Letting the whole world know but I’ve been trying to keep a secret? What is it Y/n? Are you trying to prove something? Rub it in peoples faces? You saw a swarm of fans and thought ‘I don’t care what Jimin thinks, I’m going show everyone that he belongs to me!’”

“Jimin..” you said quietly. “I don’t want to hear it Y/n! You fucked everything up! Just leave me alone.” He growled. You looked down, tears rolling down your cheeks. You fidgeted with your fingers and walked over to Yoongi’s studio, not knowing where else to go to be out of his way. You knocked on the door softly. When he opened the door he frowned when he saw you crying. “Can I come in?” He nodded and let you in, glancing over at the guys in confusion before he shut the door.

You sat down on the couch and broke down crying. “Y/n, what happened?” He asked softly as he sat next to you. “Is it because of what happened earlier? Are you still anxious?” You sobbed into your sleeve, “Jimin thinks I purposely tried to reveal our relationship because I grabbed onto him. Why would I do that? I’m already anxious about the fans knowing I even exist so why would I purposely put myself into a position to receive more attention?”

Yoongi frowned, “Did you tell him that? That you were just scared?” You shook your head, “He wouldn’t let me. He just yelled at me in front of everyone and made me even more anxious.” He hugged you and rubbed your back softly. “Don’t worry Y/n. We all know what really happened and I bet everyone is out there telling him the truth. You know we’ve all got your back.”

Everyone turned back to Jimin, disgust written all over their faces. “Are you serious right now?” Hobi asked. “What, she fucked everything up!” Jungkook shook his head, “and you think she did it on purpose for her own benefit?”

Jimin shrugged, “Obviously! Why else would she do that as soon as everyone crowded us?”

Yoongi left his studio and stormed over to the group, “You are an absolute idiot!” He shouted. Jimin was taken aback at his outburst and the others agreeing with him. “I didn’t do anything! She’s the one-“ Namjoon interrupted, “Who started to have a panic attack and held on to you because she was terrified by everyone grabbing at her?”

Jimin stared at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? That’s not what happened..” Namjoon chuckled darkly, “That is exactly what happened! If you took your head out of your ass for 30 seconds you might have noticed how scared she was! I even asked her if she was okay when we got in the car.”

Yoongi sighed, “You have no idea how much you hurt her. As soon as she sat down in the studio she had a meltdown because of the things you said to her! So I repeat, you are an absolute idiot!”

Jimin tried to process what the were saying and think about to earlier. “Why didn’t she say that? If she was actually afraid she should have said something.” Namjoon rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. Hobi spoke up again, “Maybe it’s because you were so focused on yourself that you didn’t even notice she was shaking the entire time and when we got home you didn’t even let her speak!”

Jimins heart dropped. “I just screamed at her for being scared..” Namjoon nodded, “Yeah, you did. So you better do something about it.”

“I’ll go get her.” Yoongi said as he went back to the studio. The guys left the room and went into their own and Jimin waited nervously for you to come out. The studio door opened and he heard Yoongi mumbling something to you, probably comforting words like he always did.

You approached him with your head down, eyes brimming with tears. He hurried over to you and kneeled down, taking your hand in his. “Tell me what happened.” He said softly. You whimpered as tears started rolling down your cheek again, “I was scared..” You sobbed into your sleeve, “I’m sorry, I was just so scared!”

He shook his head and stood up, taking your face in his hands. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. I’m the one who needs to apologize for being so horrible to you. I should have known better. You would never do what I accused you of and I know that. I feel so awful for what I said. I’m so sorry jagi. You have no idea how sorry I am.” He wiped away your tears as you hiccuped, his own eyes brimming with tears of his own.

“I didn’t mean to tell everyone..” You whispered. He nodded and pulled you tightly into his chest. “I know love. Please don’t blame yourself. Whatever happens happens and we’ll deal with it when the time comes. Right now I just want you to know how sorry I am.” His voice cracked at the end, tears starting to fall. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” You squeezed him tighter, “I know..please don’t cry.”

He chuckled, wiping his eyes and he let you go and looked down at you. “I just feel really awful. I don’t know if I feel worse for yelling at you or for not noticing how scared you were.” You smiled weakly and gently wiped his tears away with your dry sleeve. “It doesn’t matter. I would really just like to forget about it before I start getting upset about it again.”

He nodded. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore, but I am sorry okay? I’ll never stop trying to make it up to you either and I’ll never let it happen again.” You nodded and smiled softly, rubbing your tired eyes. “You must be exhausted jagi, how about we go take a nap?”

“Yes please.”

Taehyung

When you finished getting ready for the event you were attending with the boys, you admired yourself in the mirror. You often felt self conscious about your looks, especially in dresses, but you really loved this one. It was a knee length, maroon bodycon dress that hugged your curves perfectly. It had a slit on the side and you had to admit your breasts looked great in it.

You’d saved up for quite some time to buy this dress just for tonight and you couldn’t wait to show it off. “Babe?” You heard taehyung call from the living room. “I’ll be right there!” You responded.

You took one last look in the mirror and touched up your lipstick. You grabbed your bag and left the room, excited for Taehyung to see the dress you bought.

When you walked into the living room, everyone turned to look at you. The guys were all eyeing you, clearly loving your choice of outfit. You shyly pushed some hair behind your ear and froze when you heard Taehyung speak up, “That’s what you’re wearing?” Everyone looked at him, confused as to why he would ask that.

“Well, yeah.. is there something wrong with it?” You asked nervously. Taehyung shrugged, “No it’s a great dress. You just never wear red so it’s kind of weird. I don’t know if it suits you.” Your heart dropped as you looked down at your dress. When you felt him eyeing you up and down you felt really self conscious.

You rubbed your arm awkwardly, eyes still on the ground. “I’ll go change then..” Taehyung shrugged, “Okay well, don’t take too long we have to get going.” The guys frowned as a tear rolled down your cheek and you walked away quietly.

Everyone glared at Taehyung immediately, anger and shock written all over their faces. “You idiot, why would you do that to her?” Jin said. Taehyung raised an eyebrow, “What are you talking about?” Yoongi sighed, trying to stay calm, “Your girlfriend just came out here looking.. amazing, and you told her she didn’t.”

Hobi stormed past Taehyung, running over to your room and knocked on the door. “Y/n, it’s Hobi. Can I come in?” When he disappeared into the room, Taehyung turned back to the others. “I didn’t say she didn’t look amazing. I really don’t understand what’s going on right now.”

Jimin sighed, “Do you have any idea what that dress meant to her? How much she wanted to impress you?” Taehyung stared at him, blankly slowly as he was still confused. Namjoon rolled his eyes, “Your girlfriend is self conscious about her looks, we’ll never understand why because she’s admittedly gorgeous, but she had been saving up to buy that dress and surprise you because she loved it and she felt good in it. You just told her she looked weird in it and it didn’t suit her!”

Back in the bedroom, Hobi rubbed your back as you cried. “I really thought he’d like it. I saved up for months to get this dress.” He nodded. “I know you did. He’s wrong though. The rest of us all think you look incredible in this dress. I’ve never seen you look so beautiful and I’m not just saying that, I mean it. The second you walked into that room, all of us were jealous of Taehyung. I thought Yoongi’s jaw was going to fall off.” He chuckled.

You sniffled, “I can’t wear this dress knowing he doesn’t like it. I don’t even want to go anymore if I’m being honest, I just want to stay home and wear my pyjamas.” His heart broke for you, “If you don’t want to go, I don’t want to go either.” You looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears, “You don’t have to do that. You should go and have fun, don’t worry about me.”

He smiled softly, “I’m not going anywhere when I know one of my best friends is hurting. It won’t be any fun without you.” You sighed and looked down at your dress, “I need to take this off.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, I meant I’m not used to seeing her in that kind of dress.” Taehyung explained. Yoongi groaned in annoyance, his voice raising, “You have got to be the dumbest person I know.” Namjoon put a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder to calm him down. “You broke her heart. She left the room crying and you didn’t even notice?” Jimin said.

“You don’t seem to understand how to talk to a woman. If that’s what you would say to her in front of all of us, I’m afraid to know what you say to her in private. If it was me, I would dump you.” Jin said, his expression cold.

“I-I really didn’t mean to make her think she looked bad. I have to go talk to her.” He ran to the door and into the room. You and Hobi both turned as his hand was on the zipper at the back of your dress.

“Jagi, I’m so sorry!” He walked over to you and Hobi backed away. Taehyung took your face in his hands, “I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I just meant that I’m not used to seeing you in a dress like this. I love this dress on you. You look so so beautiful.” You avoided eye contact and removed his hands from your face, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Hobi exited the room.

Taehyung shook his head, “No, I’m not, I promise you. I don’t know how to prove it to you but when you walked out I was just lost for words. You look incredible jagi. Please believe me.” You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting with his. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, he really did mean it. You smiled weakly, “I believe you.”

He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t like your dress baby. You look so beautiful and I love you.” You nodded against his chest, “I love you too.”

Jungkook

You ran into the dorm, and passed the guys who sat in the living room. You tried to open Jungkook’s door but it was locked. “Jungkook?” You called. “Jungkook please let me in!” He opened the door and walked passed you. You followed him as he stormed towards the kitchen.

“Kookie I’m so sorry I missed dinner. I-“ he chuckled darkly, “You what? You were just too caught up in something to even bother calling to let me know you weren’t coming? It’s not like you worked today so you can’t give me that excuse. You just thought you’d leave me sitting in the restaurant completely embarrassed and then walk in here and expect forgiveness?”

You sighed, “Please just let me ex-“ he shook his head and turned to walk away. “I don’t want to hear it Y/n. You embarrassed me and you didn’t even care enough to tell me. I don’t want to see you. LEAVE.” You frowned, “Jungkook please just listen-“ His hands balled into fists, “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

You jumped and backed away from him. Your voice was small, “I’m sorry..” you turned and ran back out the door. Namjoon stared at Jungkook, “What the fuck was that?” Jungkook groaned, “She made me look like an idiot! We were suppose to have dinner tonight and she never showed up. I sat there for hours while the paps took photos. I can already see the headlines. She didn’t even bother to call so that shows how much she cares about me.”

Taehyung looked between Jungkook and the door. “How would you know she did it on purpose if you didn’t even let her explain?” Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Because I don’t want to sit here listening to her bullshit. She has a phone, she should have called. It’s that simple.”

Namjoon shrugged, “Maybe she didn’t have her phone, did you think of that?” Another groan left Jungkook’s lips, “Bullshit. She always has her phone. I don’t even care anymore, whatever. If she doesn’t care about me, why should I care?”

Half an hour later, Jin stormed into the dorm and up to Jungkook, having just arrived home. “Are you fucking serious? You little shit I could punch you right now.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, “What, did she tell you what happened?” Jin nodded, “Yeah, she did. She told me everything you didn’t let her say. You have no fucking idea how stupid you are.”

“What did she say?” Hobi asked curiously. “She told me that her car broke down and she couldn’t even call anyone because her phone died. She sat on the side of the fucking road for hours until someone stopped by to help her and call a tow truck. Then she had to sit at the mechanics until they figured out the problem, which ended up being something so expensive she should just get a new car.”

“So why not call me from the mechanics then?” Jungkook asked, not believing the story. “Maybe because you just changed your number and she doesn’t have it memorized?” Jin said with an attitude. “She took a cab here just so she could apologize and tell you what happened but you decided to scream at her and hurt her feelings instead. You’re a moron Jungkook. She deserves so much fucking better.”

Jungkook froze as his body filled with guilt. “Where is she?”

“I took her home so she wouldn’t have to walk across town in the dark, which she was doing when I saw her and it’s freezing out. If you give a shit about her at all, you’ll get your ass over to her place and beg for forgiveness.” Jin spat. Jungkook immediately ran passed him and out the door. He got in his car and sped to your place.

He banged on your door. “Jagi?” He called out. He banged again, “Y/n!” You opened the door and stared at him with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. His heart dropped and he felt like he could cry just looking at you. “Jagi.. I’m so sorry, I-“ You turned and walked into the house, ignoring him as he stood in the doorway.

“Jagi, please let me apologize.” He sighed as you slammed your bedroom door shut. He leaned against the wall next to the door. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or accused you of anything. I should have known you had a reason for not being there or calling.”

He slid down the wall and sat on the floor when you didn’t answer. “I should have let you explain, not that you should even have to explain yourself. Jin told me everything.. I feel like a complete idiot for what I said to you. You deserve so much better.”

He waited in hopes that he’d hear your voice. “Fuck..” he said quietly to himself. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.. but can you atleast tell me if you’re okay? I’m worried about you jagi.”

Again he was met with nothing but silence. Just as he was about to get up and leave you alone, your bedroom door opened. You climbed back into bed and faced away from the door. He hurried to his feet and walked into your room. He frowned when he saw you curled up in bed. It was something you always did when you were really upset. That and it was pretty late.

“Jagi?” Instead of answering you reached behind you and flipped the covers over so he knew to crawl in. He smiled weakly and kicked off his shoes before climbing in behind you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

You reached down and entangled your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand and leaned over to kiss your cheek. When he laid back down he buried his face in your hair. “I love you so much jagi. I’ll never do anything like that again.”

You had a long day and you were too exhausted to talk, so you stayed quiet, but when you squeezed his hand and he knew you were okay.

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly.

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical.

Requests: - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles --

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.

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#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fan Fiction #Spencer Reid fan fiction #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer read x y/n #Dr. Spencer reid #dr. reid

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its-monster-mash · 3 years

Text

Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)

Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment

Part 2

This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon

• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.

• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.

• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.

• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...

• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.

• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.

• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.

• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him

• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.

• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.

• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.

• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set

• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.

• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”

• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”

• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.

• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”

• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”

• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”

• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.

• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”

• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.

• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.

• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”

• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”

• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.

• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.

• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”

• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.

• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.

• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”

• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.

• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.

• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.

• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”

• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”

• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.

• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”

#Spotify #mypost #the lost boys #music tag #paul lost boys #I DID NOT EXPECT TO MAKE THIS SO LONG #I thought this would be a lot more condensed but I’m liking it a lot so I’m drawing stuff out more than originally intended #probably will do at least one more part #I LOVE Paul #and I want to have an emotional scene between Reader and Michael where Reader worries that his ‘new look’ is because she dumped him for-#-being too good of a guy #he’ll kind of joke with her like ‘No don’t worry my first love leaving me for not being a bad boy right before my parent’s divorce didn’t-#-fuck me up at all’#and then he’ll clarify that no; the breakup made him realize that he DID want to make his life more exciting and reinvent/explore himself-#-since he had to start life over in a new town #Mike is SLIGHTLY an ass in this chapter but I do want to Emphasize that he and reader were VERY close friends before they ever thought-#-about dating and are still friends now #It’s just a bit complicated now that they HAVE dated #Mike probably thought they were going to get married some day #so cut him some slack this is hard for him lol #the lost boys imagines

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Note

Sex worker Victor with roman? Sorta smutty with a heart to heart after?

Stay | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask | N/SFW

Thank you so much for this request, Anon! I really hope you enjoy what I did with it! <3 It got more angsty than I had first aimed for, but also--- I just took this opportunity to finally write the Fic inspired by a few scenes/dialogues from the 'Halston' Series that I've wanted to write ever since I watched it for the first time, so- If any of the dialogue seems eerily familiar - that's why. Hope the direction it took is okay for you anyway. :)

summary; Victor's been Roman's "boy toy" for a while and they both want more from each other; but Sionis is too afraid.

notes; SexWorker!Victor Zsasz; Alternate Universe - Sex Worker and Client; Roman Sionis has BPD; (mild) Angst with a Happy Ending; Hurt/Comfort; Short Sex Scene; Anal Sex; Orgasm; Love Confession; Pushing Until Someone Breaks; Panic Attack; Crying; Begging (not sexual); Embrace.

“Can I call you again?” Roman had asked, looking at Zsasz, who had just been putting his pants back on after their very first night together.

“You can do anything you want, boss,” Victor had replied, a bright smile lighting up his features as he stored away the copious amount of money into his wallet.

“Mh, I like the sound of that,” he had grinned, as he reclined in the pillows and watched Victor stand up and leave for the night.

That was how it had started between them.

Roman would call him whenever he felt like it and Victor would come and fuck him silly, while earning himself a good amount of cash. It was a good arrangement that satisfied both.

Until it didn’t.

Zsasz would sometimes beg Roman to spend some more time with him outside of sex, and so he did. He liked Victor enough. And then he liked him too much. Roman desperately wanted to turn back time and stop himself from actually enjoying Zsasz’s company and missing him when he wasn’t there. Because now he was stuck with all these feelings and desires that he neither wanted, nor needed.

Naturally, he was aware of the fact that he could just stop calling Victor and instead find himself a new boy toy for his pleasure – and he had in fact tried it (and failed miserably, he couldn’t even get it up once); but he was entranced. There was nothing he could do about it, except to use his last ounces of self-control to still push Zsasz away when needed.

Still, none of that changed the fact that he was currently on his knees with Victor behind him and his dick up Roman's ass, as his mind finally quieted down after the day he’s had. Zsasz’s thrusts were powerful – hard, quick, relentless – just like Roman needed it, making the bed shake. Victor hit his prostate repeatedly, eliciting loud moans from Sionis, who held onto the bed’s headrest with such a tight grip that his knuckles turned white.

“Fuck, Victor- Make me come, baby,” he groaned, pushing his hips back to meet his part- acquaintance’s thrusts.

Zsasz chuckled huskily and complied, holding Roman’s hips tight with his left hand as he snaked his right one down to take hold of Sionis’ hard, dripping member. He stroked his cock in time with his thrusts, driving Roman positively insane. No one could fuck him out of his mind the way Victor fucking Zsasz did.

Sometimes, Roman would tell himself that that was the only reason as to why he just couldn’t get rid of the other man, instead of his fucking feelings.

None of it mattered anymore, when he felt the tell-tale hotness and tightness in his thighs and abdomen, before he finally came. Moaning loudly, needy and brokenly, his release came out in spurts, soiling the bed sheets below him.

Only moments later, while he was still coming down from his orgasm, he could feel Victor come in him, his seed warm and wet as it painted his insides.

Both were breathing heavily when Victor pulled out and Roman flopped down on the bed, just narrowly avoiding his own cooling come on the sheets, ew.

Then he fished up his underwear from the floor and pulled it on lazily – for his own comfort only, of course, he wasn’t a modest person by any means after all.

As he lay there, still on his stomach, Roman could hear some of the usual rustling behind him after they’ve had sex as he put his underwear and pants on, and only a moment later Victor was suddenly half on top of him. This sudden change of routine surprised him and he wanted to push Zsasz off of himself and kick him out, but a bigger part of him just wanted to relish in this proximity for a little bit and pretend that he could actually do this.

“You know what?” Zsasz suddenly broke the comfortable silence they had going, “From now on, when I fuck you, it’s on me. I’m not gonna charge you anymore.”

“Zsasz...” Roman started, a little shocked to hear these words come from him – he’d always thought his money was what kept him coming back for more.

“I’m more than a simple prostitute, baby. And I should be more than that to you. So, I thought that, from now on, I could be your man instead, y’know?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sionis said softly and heaved Victor off of him at last, rolling over onto his back and sitting up.

“Why not?” Victor asked, sitting up as well, confusion and anger twisting his face, “Because you don’t want to be with me? Or just because you don’t want to be seen with me, a boy from the streets who fucked you for money?”

“Victor, don’t fucking do this. I didn’t even say that!” he shot back, his mood turning sour quickly – so much for this post-coital bliss he had just enjoyed.

“No, fuck you. I can see right through you, Roman. I’m nothing but a dick to you, here for your own enjoyment and that’s it,” Victor sighed deeply, all anger leaving him at once, “I just wish you weren’t so afraid of me. You want absolute loyalty from everyone around you. But you also just want them to do exactly what you say. And I’m not like that. I keep stepping out of line. I keep lingering after we fucked. I keep demanding things and tell you ‘no’ sometimes. I know it drives you insane. And I know that you know that I’m loyal. But I’m still myself, and I’m yours. Do you understand?”

Roman immediately stumbled out of the bed and put some distance between them as he walked over to the opposite wall. He was overwhelmed. His heart was beating so rapidly against his rib cage that he thought it was trying to escape. His vision swam and he felt sick to his stomach.

“Why do you do that? Why do you push me away like that?” Zsasz asked heatedly.

“I’m not fucking pushing you away! I just- I can’t have this conversation right now.” Roman tried so hard to keep his temper in check; he didn’t want any of this. Not now, not ever.

“Okay, but this is the problem. We could be a team, Roman, you and me. But, no, you rather push me away whenever we get a little closer. I know you want more from me, too.”

“I can’t do it,” Roman whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back all these emotions that clawed at him, “I can’t fucking deal with you. Get the fuck out!” he yelled.

“I love you, Roman,” Victor suddenly confessed, perched on the edge of their- Roman’s bed, “Tell me you love me.”

“Just get the fuck out of the house!”

“No, Roman, I love you. And I want you to tell me that you love me, too.”

“I can’t. I- I fucking can’t!” Roman’s vision got blurry as tears pricked his eyes and spilled, as sobs tore themselves from his tight throat.

Zsasz got up and packed his little bag he always had with him. Then, he pulled his shirt over his head, getting ready to leave. It was all so sudden. Roman could barely even see and he couldn’t stop sobbing violently. It hurt.

“Victor,” he choked out, sliding down the wall and kneeling on the floor, cowering as he convulsed with sobs, reaching his hand out to Zsasz, “Don’t leave me. Please. Don’t fucking leave me! Please! Please! Please! Fuck… Victor, please!” Roman never begged for anything in his life.

As suddenly as all of this happened, Victor quickly walked over to him, crouched beside him and embraced him tightly, rubbing his hands soothingly over Roman’s back and upper arm.

“Okay, I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I was being an asshole,” Victor shushed him softly, “I’m right here. It’s okay. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere, Roman. I promise.”

After some more minutes that Roman spent crying and pleading, like he hasn’t since he’d been a child, he finally started to calm down. His sobs morphed into quiet hiccups, until those subsided as well. Even after he stopped crying entirely, he kept his face buried in Victor’s neck, clinging onto him for dear life, while Zsasz kept shushing and reassuring him softly, patiently.

“I can’t say it, Victor. I can’t,” Roman rasped, his voice was so broken and raw now, “I don’t want you to leave me. I’ll be with you, ‘kay? I want it, I do. I just can’t say that.”

“Okay,” Victor replied softly and kissed the top of Roman’s head, nuzzling his hair, “I won’t ever do this to you again, I promise.”

#roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #victor zsasz #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask #zsaszmask fanfic #zsaszmask au #mlm ship #mlm fiction #mlm fanfic

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ahgaseda · 4 years

Text

pray | two

you are more than my existence, please listen to my prayer, hold me, tell me about myself, call my name so I can know who I am...

summary : everyone knows of the unspeakable evil that lives on the mountain, but you willingly sacrifice yourself to the demon named Jaebeom, as long as he takes you far away from the monster waiting for you at home.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, instances of blood and violence, graphic sexual content, black magic themes, potentially triggering elements that involve mentions of past child abuse, mental health, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

For the first few days, you returned to the border without fail. Waiting, but mostly hoping and praying that an entrance was made for you. It went without saying you navigated the edge of the forest, searching for the slightest break in the trees and thorns for you to slip inside. You were ready to endure any injury to be back where you belonged.

Of one thing you were certain - you hated Jaebeom. How he had taken everything from you. It was selfish and cruel, and you would never forgive him for it as long as you lived.

After weeks passed and the woods remained silent as the grave, wholly impenetrable, you finally surrendered. The last time you stood before the forest, you bid her a tender farewell.

You would give anything to know Jaebeom felt your pain, that he longed for you in his heart as much as you did for him. The woods must have been lonely.

Did you cross his mind at all? Even for just a moment?

A voice came from behind you, jeering, “And here she is again, staring at a wall of trees.”

“Hello, Gale,” you droned with disinterest.

A more arrogant and disdainful boy never existed than Gale. As a child, he often led the charge of children throwing rocks as you passed by. He always shouted the loudest when it came to how alone and pitiful you were.

But in more recent years, as you developed into a young woman, his gaze became less scornful and more filled with something worse.

He came to stand beside you, though his presence was unwanted, and spoke mischievously, “I can think of much better ways to occupy your time.”

“I’m sure you could,” you spoke, monotonous and uninterested.

Neither your body language or tone could dissuade him. “Everyone has advised me against my attraction to you,” he continued, moving even closer to your side.

You avoided his eyes and retorted, “For that I am eternally grateful.”

Gale ignored your response altogether and said, “They say you’re wild, untamed, and that you would not be a good, dutiful wife.”

Music to my ears, you mused, fighting back a grin. “They are absolutely right.”

Gale crept closer, until you could smell him, until you could feel his hot breath on the top of your shoulder. Your entire body bristled, wary.

“I spent a lot of time with horses, the kind we use for war, and I can assure you,” he whispered coldly. “Even the wildest of them can be broken into submission.”

You rounded on him, refusing to show him even the slightest of fear, and countered, “I’m not a horse. I’m a woman. And I would defy you with every breath in my body until the day I died.”

Gale’s lips broke into a broad smile and he cooed, “And that is what I desire about you.”

You rolled your eyes, parting from the border with a rush to your step. Gale was unnerving. There was malice in his eyes. He didn’t see you as a human, he made that abundantly clear. To him you were an animal, a trophy; something to own and mount on the wall.

He followed you closely, losing what little patience he had. “I would rather you accept my proposal willingly.”

You snorted and kept walking, exclaiming, “That was a proposal?”

“Yes,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “I want you for my wife.”

The mere thought set a bad taste on your tongue. You frowned, wrinkling your nose, and said, “I have no interest in having you as my husband.”

Angered, Gale grabbed your arm roughly and yanked you back, nearly knocking you off of your feet if not for how solidly he gripped you. “And do you think you will ever find better than me?” he shouted, leering over you.

You stared up at him in defiance and said, “I already found better than you and I loved him. And I can still taste his kisses.”

Gale blinked rapidly, shock fading into jealousy. “Is that so? Then, where is he? I do hope I’m invited to the wedding,” he sneered, mocking.

You bit your lip, eyes filling with tears at the memory of Jaebeom casting you out of the forest.

“You are an insane little thing,” Gale muttered, tightening his grip on your arms until you whimpered. “If not for how beautiful you are, I would never waste my time on you.”

At that, Gale released you harshly and skulked away, leaving you with your tears.

You turned a little, gazing solemnly at the forest in the distance. It was time to let go, time to move on. You would have to focus on self-preservation for the foreseeable future. And so you stopped visiting the border, forcing yourself to keep from looking in the woods’ direction.

On the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. It had been a year since you last saw Jaebeom.

Despite your sadness, your father would never allow you to spend a day in your room and you continued on as if it were any other Thursday. You sat at the table and picked at your breakfast.

Your father did little to hide his eagerness at the offers he received for your hand in marriage. He planned to build his small fortune on your back.

However, the current war waged between men had put a delay on the arranged marriage. And your father’s temper had never been worse.

He reached sharply across the table and grabbed your wrist, growling, “You had better make this man happy. I will hear nothing of you resisting his advances. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, father,” you spoke submissively. You knew nothing of the man he mentioned, only that he would soon own you.

There used to be more fire in you, but it had burned out. Every day felt as cold as the forest had been when she was taken from you.

Your father continued to rant, but his voice faded into the background. All you could think about was the kiss with Jaebeom on your last birthday. Your first kiss. And you shared it with a demon in the canopy of the forest, watching the sun go down.

There was nothing that could compare, nothing that could ease the pain of having lost your only friend on the same day you realized you were in love with him.

Commotion outside tore you from your melancholy thoughts.

Your father glanced through the window, brows stitching, and huffed irritably, “Damn kids harassing something again.”

That piqued your attention. You excused yourself and gathered your heavy skirt in your hands, hurrying outside to see what the rowdy neighborhood boys had found this time. Once you rescued a nest of eggs from their clutches. On another occasion you saved a fawn with an injured leg from their amusement.

This time, the boys were chasing a little black shadow and cornered it along the fence by the chicken coop. Only when you squinted and looked closer did you realize it was a baby panther.

“What is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, snatching a stick from one of the boys’ hands and slapping him over the head with it. “It’s just a baby, you brat!”

“Give it to me,” jeered another boy. “My father can make a little rug from its pelt.”

“I will skin you first if you touch it,” you threatened with a snarl, approaching the small beast delicately.

She seemed to sense your intentions and did not attempt to bite when you hoisted her up by the scruff. You cradled her in your arms, seeing she was female, and spoke soothingly to her.

The little cub wailed, starving for food.

The door to the nearby house burst open and a man wielding a knife yelled, “That little beast killed two of my chickens!”

Your eyes widened at the weapon he brandished and you knew the cub was about to suffer a brutal fate. You couldn’t stomach the thought and so you did what you had always done.

You ran.

The boys shouted with disappointment and called for their fathers. The man preparing to butcher the cub warned of punishment you would endure for blatantly defying him. Another voice, belonging to your father, broke through them all, demanding you stop dead in your tracks.

You listened to none, thinking only of the innocent beast in your arms. She gave no struggle, only gazed up at you with warm yellow eyes. For an animal, she seemed well-aware of the dire situation.

You ran until the border came in sight. Months had passed since you saw its thorns. They had not moved even an inch since the day you were barred from entry, but you had to try.

“You have to let me in,” you yelled with conviction. “I won’t let them kill her!”

The little cub mewled in your arms.

For a moment, you were met with only silence and your heart sank. Someone or something had weighed the scales and did not find in your favor. Tears filled your eyes and you whimpered, desperate.

Then, the forest groaned. It knew your voice, even after all this time.

The boughs shifted and the thorns parted. You were given the smallest of entries, enough space for one person as if you were a highly kept secret. You knew, thought it went unsaid, that the forest would certainly seal itself again in your wake, trapping you inside forever.

This was it.

You contemplated setting the cub at the edge and ushering her inside, but there was no one to feed or protect her. Then, you looked down at the cub and chuckled at your own hesitation. Your heart belonged in the forest and now you could finally return home.

You pressed inside, vanishing into the darkness.

After only a few steps, the thorns came alive again. No one would be able to follow you.

You cradled the cub close to your chest protectively and walked. You had no idea where to go, no thought of where you should go. You merely walked among the trees, breathing in the icy air that tickled your skin.

The forest had darkened. Light struggled to seep through the canopy. You could hardly see ahead and your breath appeared like smoke from your mouth. The cub noticed too and burrowed against your breasts for warmth.

“Don’t worry,” you cooed, exhaling heavily so your breath was manifest. “I’m a dragon.”

The joke may have amused you, but it was lost on the cub’s ears. She whined and hid her face in your arms with a mewl.

You pressed on, reaching the small clearing that once made your heart soar. The ground was brittle, the grass had died. A howl echoed amidst the darkness.

The forest had remained bound in winter for an entire year.

Rustling tickled your ears. The air chilled even more. Ice nearly formed on your lips and lashes. You shivered in place, hands turning numb. But you stood firm, knowing he had come.

Jaebeom descended from the shadows above and your heart jumped wildly in your ribcage. His feet touched the ground and his wings swept gracefully around him, coming to perch over his head.

“I told you,” Jaebeom warned through clenched jaws. “Never to come back here.”

You glared vehemently at him, how he could treat you with such frigid judgment. But you were quick to notice the year had not treated him kindly either. Darkness marred his beautiful, piercing eyes. Even more ink seemed to be branded across his chest. Despite the anger coursing through you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him and melt the ice.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you murmured shakily, glancing down at the beast you had smuggled inside. “They wanted to slaughter this little cub.”

Jaebeom took a step closer, peering down at the ebony creature in your arms. She turned and with one look at him, hissed in defiance. You fought a grin, pleased at her reaction.

That was why the forest let you in, Jaebeom mulled with a frown. Your willingness to protect nature. The wood heeded his wishes, but he was also required to heed hers. It was a mutual, symbiotic relationship.

Though he cursed the forest in his mind for letting you inside, he knew she would hear no argument of sending you back.

Jaebeom moved closer, wings dragging the ground behind him. “Are you afraid, cheonsa?” he asked lowly, almost in intimidation.

You hardened your gaze and replied, “No.”

Jaebeom tilted his head and persisted, “But you know I’m a monster.”

You eyed the great horns on his head and scoffed. “You are no monster compared to them.”

Jaebeom came even nearer and you could hardly breathe. Winter had taken residence in his chest and was freezing everything around him. He reached out and stroked a thumb over your cheek. You sucked in a breath. Despite his cold, he carried the scent of a raging wildfire, destroying all in its path.

“If I steal you away, you will be my bride,” Jaebeom reminded, his voice almost like a song. “Can you fathom that - being the demon’s bride?”

You countered, “You can’t steal what is already yours.”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered and he was tempted to smile. A year for you had been an eternity for him. It still perplexed him how he had been able to survive for so long without you. His wings arched, flaring out in display.

“You broke my heart, Jaebeom,” you whispered morosely. “You chose my life for me.”

Jaebeom nodded, apologetic though he dared not apologize. “Fate had other plans,” he replied gruffly.

“If not for the war, I would be married by now,” you told him with a foul taste in your mouth, then snorted. “It’s been a year. I would undoubtedly have a child as well.”

Jaebeom stuttered, imagining the great swell of your belly or the sight of a dark-haired newborn nursing at your breast. He could barely force out the question, “Do you… want children?”

For the past year, you had been forced to give the notion plenty of thought. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you replied softly, “If I have a child I want them to be from a place of love and passion. Not convenience or obligation.”

“I understand,” said Jaebeom with a nod, glancing down at the cub once more. The little thing promptly gave a high-pitched growl at him.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

Your cheeks flushed as you asked, “Is that what you want from me?”

“What?” Jaebeom exclaimed. “No.”

You searched his face in confusion and pressed, “Then, why do you have to take a bride?”

Jaebeom pursed his lips and spoke dryly, “The Master commands it.”

You shuddered when you realized who he was referring to and said, “He’s not here. Why do it?”

“As we age our magic grows,” Jaebeom explained, surprisingly patient. “That’s why the forest is saturated in black magic.”

You waited.

“We have to find someone, someone we can bond our souls with, or the magic will become too much. It will kill us.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean, I will bear magic?”

He gave a single nod. “Yes.”

Your imagination ran wild and you asked, “Will I grow horns or wings?”

“No, you will stay as you are, but the sun will not smile upon you any longer.”

You sighed, softening a little, “I will be doomed to live in the darkness. Just like you. That’s why you pushed me away.”

Jaebeom’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he reached to cup your cheek, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips again. He pulled you close, lips mere inches from yours, and whispered, “I saw you in the sun. I could never bring myself to take that away from you.”

You set your jaw and replied, “They can keep the sun, but you stole away my light for a year. For what I thought would be the rest of my life.”

Jaebeom winced, hearing that pained him though he already knew it deeply. “I promise, I will spend every day until my last making it up to you.”

You fought a smile, lowering your head to hide the corners of your mouth lifting.

Jaebeom slipped his hand beneath your chin, tilting up until your eyes were on him again. “Well?”

You sang quietly, “The demon comes to take her away. On a bed of stars they will lay.”

Jaebeom smirked before finishing, “And never again will she see the light of day.”

You giggled. It should have come as no surprise he knew the songs your people sang of his kind.

A scream sharply pierced the forest, making your blood run cold. You whirled around, shuffling backwards in horror. Jaebeom wrapped his arms around your waist and steered you behind him.

“What is that?” you gasped. The cub in your arms stirred restlessly, terrified.

“The forest is wounded,” he told you angrily, charging forward. His great wings fanned out, bristling with aggression.

Gale stepped with purpose inside, sword glistening with the dew of trees and vines. He had cut and sliced an opening for himself in pursuit of you.

The moment Jaebeom came into view, Gale gripped the hilt with both hands and held it before himself, shouting, “Stay back, demon!”

Jaebeom was livid and snarled, “You dare bring steel inside this place?”

You molded yourself to his back, a hand on Jaebeom’s arm, and called incredulously, “Gale, what are you doing?”

Gale felt his blood boiling at the sight of you in a demon’s clutches and said, “I saw you run here. I know you’ve been entering the forbidden woods all along.”

Jaebeom snapped, “Be gone from here.”

“Like hell I will,” Gale retorted. “Do you think you can steal my fiancee?”

Jaebeom scowled, seething.

“Your what?” you blurted in disbelief. “Gale, I said I will never marry you!”

“Your father agreed.”

You stood there dumbfounded. It was your worst nightmare come true.

Jaebeom’s wings rustled, a testament to his fury - and his restraint.

Gale held out his hand and called your name. “Come. He won’t take you while I have a sword.”

Jaebeom grimaced, eyeing the weapon with nothing short of loathing.

You let your hand slip down Jaebeom’s arm, moving past him until he was behind you. Jaebeom didn’t stop you. He knew the choice was yours and he would have to live with whatever you decided.

“You said I was insane,” you told Gale, gazing down at the cub against your chest. “Maybe I am. But not nearly insane enough to marry the likes of you.”

Gale recoiled and his face tensed with rage. “You little bitch, come with me now. I bought you fair and square!”

You met his eyes and felt only sympathy. And after a pause, you said, “I am where I belong.”

Jaebeom moved faster than you thought possible, sweeping you in his arms and taking to the air with a forceful beat of his great wings.

Gale’s shouts and threats faded into the rushing of wind.

You gripped Jaebeom tightly, gasping for air and lost for words. The demon soared through the forest, branches moving from his path and birds singing his arrival. When he broke through the canopy, you gasped at the thick fog around you, the same clouds you remembered surrounding the mountain.

Jaebeom flew higher and higher. Your ears began to ring. Your breaths were labored. You had never been at such an altitude. The cub in your arms screamed its confusion.

With you in his arms, the demon burst through the clouds, alighting on a precipice of stone. You looked around curiously, gasping at the sight of a looming castle before you.

For a moment, you held Jaebeom tightly, peering over the crest of his shoulder. He rather liked the heat of your rapid panting on his neck and made no moves to set you down.

“Where are we?”

“Home,” Jaebeom replied softly.

“This is your home?” you asked, voice trembling from the flight as you gawked at the many turrets and towers.

“Our home,” Jaebeom whispered in your ear, nuzzling his face in your hair. The scent of you was overwhelming.

“And what about this little shadow?” you asked, leaning down to kiss the brow of your baby panther. She closed her eyes contentedly at your affection though her fur still stood on end from defying gravity.

Jaebeom lowered you to the ground, an arm wrapped around your waist until you found your balance. “She’s all yours,” he droned. “I’ll have no part in raising her.”

“Shadow,” you mulled to yourself, meeting the yellow eyes of your new companion. “I quite like that name.”

You placed the cub on the ground and she danced at your feet, following you dutifully as you walked with Jaebeom into the castle. The demon pushed open the double doors and you stepped into the endless stone foyer, the pitter-patter of your bare feet echoing down the walls.

“It’s massive,” you said, gazing up at the ceiling and spinning in a circle.

“Mostly unused,” Jaebeom told you blithely. “I tend to keep myself between the bedroom and the kitchen.”

You chuckled, twirling again. Little Shadow refused to part from your feet.

Jaebeom watched you with delight, but you would have never known given the lack of expression on his face. “That… human in the forest,” he began.

“Gale.”

Jaebeom clearly wanted more explanation than that and pressed, “He was your betrothed?”

You laughed. “No. Definitely not.”

Jaebeom still wasn’t satisfied. “He seemed to think so.”

You finally faced him and quipped, “Then, he is much crazier than he ever said I was.”

Jaebeom tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Do your people consider you insane?”

You beamed with pride. “Very much so.”

The demon chuckled.

You studied him, approaching him with purpose in your step, and began, “All of my betrothals fell through. Men were ready to pay for ownership of me. Did you have something to do with their failures?”

Jaebeom shrugged and replied, “Men are preoccupied with the war between realms.”

You cocked a brow. “And how would you know that?”

“I have prayed every day since you left that the war would never end,” Jaebeom told you solemnly.

Folding your arms, you shot back, “I didn’t leave. I was cast out.”

Jaebeom felt his heart clench and hardened his gaze. He reached out and took your hand, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss. “And how long are you going to hold that against me?”

You smiled up at him and smarted, “For as long as it pleases me.”

Jaebeom wanted to chuckle. His heart was spinning, dancing in circles. Every moment you stood there before him he found it harder and harder to breathe.

When he woke up this morning, he had no idea you would be with him.

But here you were, the brightest of smiles on your lips, traveling up to your glistening eyes. Jaebeom was hopelessly drowning in his feelings for you.

You blushed when he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His bare chest was hot beneath your fingertips and you wanted to trace the pattern of one of his many tattoos.

“Do you accept me as your husband?”

You stared up at him, the grin making your cheeks hurt, and replied with a single nod, “I do.”

Jaebeom ran his thumb over your bottom lip, studying you intently. “Come with me then,” he beckoned with a low voice.

“Where?”

“To bed,” he replied bluntly, taking your hand and leading you beside him.

Your eyes widened and you asked curiously, “Are you trying to bed me without a wedding?”

He looked over his shoulder. “When I said make you my bride…”

“Oh, I see,” you said, planting your feet and letting your hand slip from his grasp. “I want something more binding.”

Jaebeom stopped, pivoting on his heels to face you, and his wings shuddered with excitement. “There is nothing more binding than me claiming you as my own.”

You found your resolve and reminded him, “Once upon a time, I offered myself to you.”

Jaebeom paused, heart heavy, and murmured, “I remember.”

Your lip trembled. “You made me feel unworthy.”

Jaebeom asserted, “I was the one that wasn’t worthy.”

You sighed. There you stood in the castle of a demon, about to become his bride for all eternity. You had prayed and wished for freedom and protection all your life, and he would forever be your lighthouse in the storm.

One day you would let go of your anger.

“I fully intend to surrender my virtue to you, Jaebeom,” you told him. “But first, I want marriage.”

Jaebeom wrinkled his nose. “Hmph.”

“And a wedding,” you added, at this point resorting to humor to relieve the tension you caused.

“Fine,” he said shortly.

“It can be just us,” you continued, slipping back into his embrace and wrapping your arms around his waist. “And someone obviously to perform the ceremony. Whatever you desire.”

Jaebeom roamed his hands to rest on your hips and his great wings moved instinctively around you, shielding you from invisible dangers. “My only desire is you…,” he finally revealed. “And whatever makes you happy.”

You batted your lashes. “I would not be opposed to a white dress, if you happen to have one.”

Jaebeom exhaled loudly, searching his thoughts for where in hell’s name he could find one. “I need to send a few letters.”

At that, his hands slipped free of your body and he began striding down the hall.

You followed him eagerly, hot on his heels, and asked with excitement, “Does this mean we will fly again?”

Jaebeom turned, brows furrowed. “No,” he replied flatly, pushing a door open and pointing inside. “Stairs.”

“How boring,” you whined, proceeding forward.

The two of you appeared in one of the higher towers, a turret with glassless windows. Ravens congregating inside squawked at your sudden arrival, but quieted at the sight of their fellow winged creature.

Jaebeom took small rolls of paper on the nearby table and began scribbling with a narrow piece of charcoal. You watched in silence as he prepared six brief letters, tucking each into the ankle band of a crow and sending it out into the sky.

“Ravens,” you thought aloud. “We use doves.”

“Doves have very small attention spans and even smaller brains,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

You giggled.

Returning to the main hallway from the tower, Jaebeom said, “Come along. I will show you to your room.”

“My room?” you questioned in pleasant surprise.

Jaebeom held out his arm and you looped yours in the crook of his elbow. “Assuming you won’t come to bed with me until we’re married, it would be poor manners to put you in my room.”

You chuckled. “I see.”

He escorted you to a door and explained, “This is the only spare bedroom that gets any use. My fellow demons sometimes stay here when they come to this side of the forest.”

You nodded to let him know you understood.

Jaebeom pushed the door open and ushered you inside.

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes widening at the scale of your room. Massive windows graced the far wall, curtains blowing lightly in the breeze. The bed lay in the center, on a raised platform, and a canopy of white gossamer material gathered overhead, tied to each of the bedposts.

Your vision darted to the desk along the wall, littered in writing materials. Then, you looked to the bookshelf and quaint reading nook, wanting to throw yourself on the velvet chaise and feel its warmth.

Shadow bolted inside, nearly colliding into your legs, and began to survey the room for herself. You giggled at her joy, following after the baby panther and plopping down on the side of the bed.

Jaebeom struggled to hide his smile more than ever, but his pale face stayed constant. He proceeded to say his goodbyes, allowing you to get settled with privacy.

“Jaebeom,” you called, before he could shut the door.

Jaebeom stuck his head back in and asked, “Yes?”

You gripped the side of the bed, your legs hanging and unable to touch the floor, and hoped he would sate your curiosity. “Do demons really steal away only the most beautiful of mortal women for their brides?”

Jaebeom bobbed his head. “Those of us doomed to live among mortals have no other choice. The Master keeps all she-demons in Hell with him.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

Jaebeom shifted his weight, his wings curling to his back almost in embarrassment as he continued, “We aren’t like your kind. No demon forces a woman into bed with him.”

You had tried to veil the question, but clearly he had realized what you were after and his answer put you at ease.

“We mate for life. Whoever we give ourselves to is our mate until we die. We need them to want us.”

You stood, approaching him somberly. “Am I free to leave? If there ever came a time…”

Though you had accepted him, Jaebeom understood you would want reassurance that you weren’t a prisoner in his castle. “I could not stop you,” he said, tender.

“Even if I am your mate?”

“Then, I would go the rest of my life with half of me missing.”

That’s right, you remembered. He said you would bear magic. “It sounds intense,” you told him. “So final.”

Jaebeom snorted. “We demons tend to live in extremes. Very dramatic, the lot of us.”

Heat flushed your cheeks when you asked shyly, “Would you prefer to have a demoness as your mate?”

Jaebeom shrugged. “I’ve never laid eyes on one.”

You looked down bashfully, tucking hair behind your ear, and mumbled, “I’m sure they’re far more beautiful than I am.”

Jaebeom felt his hands twitching with the urge to take you in his arms again as he whispered, “Nothing in this world or beneath it is more beautiful than you are.”

You lifted your head, gazing up at him while your heart fluttered.

“I’ve said too much,” Jaebeom huffed, gliding back to the door. “Rest now, cheonsa.”

“Why do you call me that?”

He paused, then teased, “It means… clumsy one, in my mother tongue.”

Somehow, you knew that wasn’t true.

Turning back to your room, you grinned and danced on your toes. It was a far cry from your little cot in the attic of your father’s house. Shadow whined at you, curling comfortably on the bed.

But you couldn’t sleep. Excitement raced violently through your veins. You smiled until you covered your face with your hands. Despite having no wings on your back, you swore you could fly.

Here you were, stepping into a new life; one you had always dreamt of, but could never reach.

As you lay on your back in bed, comforted by the crisp night air slipping past your curtains and into your sheets, you thought of Jaebeom. Your mind was consumed with memories of him.

You licked your lips, thinking of his broad chest and muscled arms. He had felt so strong when he carried you through the forest, as if you had been weightless. You imagined it must take endless restraint to keep from breaking you.

Your pulse quickened as you thought of your kiss beneath the trees, how carefully he had laid you on a bed of grass. How gentle his caresses and touches had been.

You tossed and turned a last time before giving up. Such a fool, you thought. As much as you had longed for Jaebeom, every moment of every day for the past year, to be sleeping in the room across the hall from him.

Smirking, you sat up in bed, looking to the baby panther asleep on one of the pillows. You gave her chin a scratch and sang, “Stay here, little Shadow.”

The door to Jaebeom’s room creaked no matter how slowly you pushed it open and you winced. To your relief, the figure in bed did not stir. Tiptoeing closer, you marveled his wings and how they tucked to his body like armor whilst he slept.

You pushed aside the wisp of curtains hanging from his bedframe and climbed onto the mattress, propping yourself over him. How beautiful he was, you thought. You were green with envy at the length of his lashes.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his with the most innocent of kisses.

His eyes slowly opened. Clearly he had not been asleep.

“Why are you…” Jaebeom began.

“I changed my mind,” you interjected.

He cocked a brow. “About?”

You straddled his hips and pulled the nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for the first time.

Jaebeom swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes on your breasts before returning to your face. “No wedding?” he asked, more so for your benefit.

“Yes, wedding and the white dress,” you said levelly. “Tomorrow.”

Jaebeom brought his hands to your thighs, caressing his way to your hips and waist. Then, he confessed like a solemn vow, “All I’ve thought about is you. Every waking moment is you. Every dream I dream is of you.”

You felt tears in your eyes and whispered, “Kiss me, Jaebeom.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Jaebeom sat up, ensnaring your body in his arms and molding his lips to yours. You held his face in your hands, kissing him back with desire before raking your fingers through his dark hair.

Jaebeom rose with you in his arms, guiding your legs to lock around his waist. His massive wings were daunting as they shrouded protectively over you. They shuddered and rustled with arousal, restless.

You slipped your hands through his locks and gripped his horns, feeling their ridges from base to tip. They were sharp, no surprise there, but Jaebeom seemed to feel nothing.

His wings were entirely different. The moment you touched where they connected to his shoulders, the wings came alive, fluttering. You danced your fingertips through his feathers, pleased at the way Jaebeom’s breaths staggered out as you kissed and touched him.

When you had your fill, you took his hand, fingers covered in black script, and brought it to your mouth, pressing kiss after kiss to his knuckles.

Jaebeom returned your affection, lingering his lips on the curve of your neck, trailing kisses to your collarbone and the swell of your breast. His hand slipped from your grasp and his palms roamed your body, drawn to the softness of your skin. You let out a small whimper when his thumbs rolled over your nipples.

Finally, he tightened his arms around you and asked, “Are you sure?”

You gave him a nod. “Yes.”

Jaebeom pressed his lips to your chest, squarely over your heart. The brands appeared, flesh-colored. Not stark black like his. The markings blended in with your skin.

You clenched your teeth and hissed. The burn of his branding was not painful, but the searing heat took you by surprise. You relaxed when you realized you were in no discomfort.

Then, you tipped your head back and moaned softly. Magic was coursing through your veins, from the tips of your fingers to the soles of your feet. White hot fire pulsed from your heart, like you were consumed in flames.

Jaebeom pulled back, gazing down at his handiwork. The script was in his mother tongue, which one day he hoped you would speak fluently with him. The magic would seep into your bones, living inside you until you both returned to the earth.

“The first of many,” Jaebeom growled, eager to see more brands spread from the anchor across your heart.

You smiled down at him, reaching for his naked chest to trace your fingertips over winding letters that lined his muscles.

Jaebeom cradled your face, running a thumb over your cheek affectionately. You couldn’t part your gaze from his eyes for even a moment.

“Please be gentle,” you whispered shyly.

Jaebeom tugged you down, kissing your lips. Then, his hand parted from your face and landed on your naked breast. “You will never know pain from me, my love,” he growled, kneading your mound. “Only pleasure.”

You swallowed thickly, desperate to kiss him again.

Jaebeom gathered you in his arms and turned, laying you softly on your back and making a place for himself between your thighs. His great wings arched and splayed, hiding you within.

His wings shuddered as he made love to you, like the ecstasy of your body unhinged them. You would never forget how it felt to be one with him, how he not only filled you, but made you overflow. And Jaebeom would never forget how you cried out his name when he found release in you.

Never had you been more satisfied. Every ache in your body was gone, never to return. The longing in your soul had dissipated. You were completely whole. All of your life you had been running and searching.

Finally, you were home.

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

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"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," wakko?

Wakko never thought of himself as a worrier. He always held out hope that somehow, someway everything would work out- that Good would prevail and Evil would fall. He believed with all his heart it was his and his sibling’s destiny to defeat Salazar. He knew Dot was going to get better, and that Yakko would finally be able to relax for more than just five minutes.

However... being on his own for the first time challenged that.

He had taken the baker’s advice and went straight to the apprenticeship with the blacksmith. It had been excruciatingly difficult, and Wakko put a lot of blood sweat, and tears into the work he did. He had been revolted to find out that he was only paid a ha’penny a week. Sending letters had cost at least three ha’pennies so by the end of week one, he had had to get crafty.

He ‘borrowed’ paper from the blacksmith and wrote as neat and concise as he could manage before putting in the one ha’penny and the letter in an envelope (also ‘borrowed’ from the blacksmith) and snuck it into the mailman’s bag when he wasn’t looking. As for how he got food, he would take a piece of fruit or bread from the man when he wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t easy to do though, the blacksmith was a good person; he was stoic and old, hardly ever talked, except the occasional warning to Wakko that he shouldn’t touch or eat something, despite how delicious it looked. He was patient, though at the same time very distant. It was hard for Wakko to read him.

However, Wakko had gotten too comfortable too fast, as he had gotten caught stealing the blacksmith’s food and he fired him, said it was “a betrayal of his trust”. His words had stung Wakko, and he left without fighting, but not without taking a few pieces of paper and envelopes- Yakko and Dot would kill him if he didn’t write.

The letters.

Wakko thought he would love writing them, but it got harder and harder the more time passed. Wakko embellished how he was doing a lot, but he could tell Yakko wasn’t being entirely honest either. His words were fancy and he tended to dance around questions Wakko had asked. Wakko wished he had the energy and paper to argue with him, but he didn’t. He hated being lied to, but they quite literally couldn’t afford to bring it up.

After he got fired, he wandered and worked as an errand boy for a senile, but wealthy woman. He didn’t like it though- she was rude and she constantly spat on him, or hit him with her cane, which left him with nasty bruises.

He was almost thankful when she dropped dead one day.

He stole as much silverware, stamps, papers, and envelopes as he could fit into his hat before he alerted anyone of what had happened.

Still- seeing a corpse hadn’t been... pleasant.

It reminded him that, yes, death was a thing and was inescapable and could happen to his little sister at any moment while he was gone.

Needless to say, he did his best not to dwell on that, and sold all of the silverware as soon as possible and gave almost all the money to Yakko in the letter he wrote.

That should help delay Death for a while... hopefully, Yakko could buy her a new blanket, or a shawl. She always got so cold in the winter with just her skirt.

Wakko then went to work as a berry picker at the farm of an old cat couple with a few other children his age, though none of them liked talking. However, he only worked there for the month of May because he had gotten fired once they found out he had been eating more berries than he turned in. Wakko was hungry, and the farmers didn’t pay him enough for him to afford enough food anyway, Wakko thought that was bull.

However, he quickly regretted that decision when he had gotten a letter from Yakko that admitted that Dot was going through another rough patch. His brother wrote that he and Dot missed him a whole awful lot, but that they weren’t giving up yet. At least that was nice...

Still, Wakko couldn’t help but feel guilty. His selfishness had gotten him fired from two jobs, and because of that, his siblings were suffering. Sometimes he wished he could just magically fix everything with the snap of his fingers, but he knew that wasn't how it worked. If it was, he would’ve done it already.

After that, he was determined to find a job that would stick. Unfortunately, that was only getting more difficult, as the town that had once been not quite prospering still functioning well enough was starting to fall apart due to the King’s taxes only rising. The only good thing that came out of that was that prices were starting to lower which meant that if he could find a spare coin on the ground, he could probably actually afford something. However, that also meant jobs were going down, and so it was damned near impossible to find something to do.

Wakko had spent a whole month without a job. He lived on the street and picked up fallen coins and didn’t write- couldn’t write- a single letter. The last one he had sent had been about the farm, and he had lied and told Yakko it had burned down so he couldn't write to there anymore. Wakko could imagine how worried Dot and Yakko must’ve been. The thought of their worry kept him up at night.

Still.

A little voice in his head told him not to give up, that he come to far to call it quits now. He promised he’d return in a year, and that’s what he’d do.

“Bravery is not the absence of fear, it’s doing something in spite of it.”

Wakko had a vague memory of someone telling him that a very long time ago, but he couldn’t recall who.

During the late summer, he had worked different jobs every day. Some days, he’d deliver packages for a fraction of what the king’s mail delivery costed, others he’d return library books, and on some, he’d shine shoes. It was exhausting to run around for days on an empty stomach, but somehow he managed to scrape on by with just enough money to send to Yakko and Dot and survive.

Despite the feeling that summer would last forever, autumn arrived and it was the harvesting season. Wakko had heard that farms were in need of help, and he went off to go work at the pumpkin farm that was just a few miles out from town. Wakko had been delighted when he heard about the opportunity and had run seven miles to get there before anyone else. The farmer, a middle-aged Rabbit, had been pleased with his enthusiasm but warned him that he couldn’t pay much and that most of his payment would be in food and shelter, but Wakko didn’t care. He hated sleeping in alleys with a passion and swore never to do that again. Plus, he knew Yakko and Dot were probably pissed at him for not writing for several months, not giving him an address to write to, or anything. Plus, Wakko was not going to pass up on an opportunity for someone else to pay for his food.

However, he had thought working on a farm during the spring was hard, autumn was much, much harder. The town where he worked somehow managed to get more snow than Acme Falls, and earlier, so he often had to wake up before the sun rose and attempt to “fight off the freeze” as the farmer called it. Wakko didn’t care what it was called, it was agonizing. He ended up with blisters and sore arms and had even cut himself on the ax he used to chop branches quite a few times.

However, none of that mattered when he read the letters Yakko and Dot sent. Wakko hadn’t realized just how much he had missed them until he saw their handwriting on the paper in his hand.

Dot had apparently gone through another rough patch during the time Wakko couldn’t write but had gotten much better, even being able to go out of the ‘house’ and take walks by the river. Yakko wrote that Dot still missed him terribly, and was really mad that he hadn’t written in forever. Yakko then went on a tangent about how much it had worried him, but that he was still relieved and happy that Wakko was safe and okay.

Wakko’s reply had been full of apologies and embellished about his current situation (saying things like ‘i have an actual bed and it’s really comfortable’ and ‘the food is amazing’ and ‘i barely have to work at all’ and ‘I haven’t even hurt myself once!’). He didn’t want to worry Yakko any more than he already had.

In truth, the farmer wasn’t a very nice person, though he was nice enough to provide shelter and food for Wakko and the few others that worked alongside him. However, he did get annoyed when Wakko injured himself, and didn’t provide bandages, so Wakko would have to make do by tearing up pieces of his pillowcase. Soon enough, he tore it all up and there was no more pillow, which hadn’t been fun for sleeping. He also shouted and swore a lot, but Wakko mostly tuned it out, having had good practice after the senile dead lady.

Still, a job was a job, and Wakko wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. He was able to keep up his promise with one ha’penny being sent home every two weeks, which Yakko noted was becoming “more and more useful in Acme Falls, as the economy was clearly in shambles”, whatever that meant.

Unfortunately, the harvest came to an end sooner than Wakko had hoped and he was back on the streets in the blink of an eye. He had a few survival strategies he had picked up from observing his older brother over the years, but surviving on the streets in the snow was a lot, a lot harder than surviving on the streets, not during the snow.

And even more unfortunately, there were little to no jobs available anymore. The only ones that were available required him to walk far distances in the snow even during snowstorms. Of course, he took them, but they were grueling and made every muscle in his body ache.

And so he resorted to his least favorite solution: stealing.

Whenever he’d walk past the market, he’d snatch an apple or a loaf of bread if he could manage and hide it in his package until it was safe and he could eat it. He stole matches so he could start fires in the garbage. He stole books that belonged to the library for kindling for said fires. He felt insanely guilty every time, but no matter what way he looked at it, there was no other option.

His main motivator had been survival. He knew he needed enough money for a ticket home in December, but knew that that’d be near impossible if he attempted to pay for his own things- especially with the taxes taking nearly all of the money he had earned with doing the jobs- and god only knew how guilty he had felt that he hadn’t been able to send any money home for Dot. Still... he figured coming home would be an at least okay replacement.

He hoped.

He wrote letters but didn’t give return addresses, fearing what Yakko would say again. He knew he must’ve been outraged that Wakko hadn’t written or sent money in awhile, and he prayed Dot was doing okay and that they didn’t need the money he wasn’t able to get.

He didn’t have the heart to write about his worries about not being able to come home after all...

Wakko shivered as he thought of that, before snapping back into reality realizing where he was. He had an awful tendency of getting distracted while he was doing errands, it was a problem.

Especially if he was trying to focus on nabbing some food. If he didn’t focus, he was likely to get caught.

Shaking his head to get back to the present, he looked around and saw an empty stall selling some type of fruit he hadn’t seen before, but figured it’d be enough. He casually sauntered on over there, and began to walk past before snatching one with his tail and quickly putting it into the box of books he was returning to the library for an old dog man.

“Hey! Kid!” Wakko froze when he heard a voice behind him. He peeked over his shoulder and saw it was the man who owned the booth.

“Stop right there!” He shouted. Wakko bolted.

He ran through the crowded market, but unfortunately for him, he slipped on some ice on the path and came crashing to the ground, books going flying everywhere, and his fruit was squashed to a pulp.

“Hey-! Kid- are you alright?” The man’s anger faded into concern and Wakko muttered to himself and trying to gather his stuff, ignoring the throbbing in his head, and stinging in his-likely scraped- knee. Eventually, he heard the man approach him, but to his surprise, he started helping Wakko put the books back into the box. Wakko didn’t look at him much, but could feel the man giving him pitiful looks.

“Look- I know what you’re gonna say and you’re wrong. I-i... I swear that I’m a good kid, okay?” Wakko sniffled as he put a blue-colored book down.

“I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort,” the man replied, handing Wakko a green book. Wakko took it hesitantly, still not willing to look him in the eyes.

“I was going to offer you some more of that fruit you took, but you ran in such a hurry, I couldn’t get my words out,” He said. Wakko didn’t know if he believed that.

“I-i just need enough money for my sister and a train ticket...” Wakko mumbled. The man nodded.

“You got family?” He asked. Wakko nodded.

“Sister and brother in Acme Falls,” he said.

“That’s quite a ways away. I suppose you came here for work but that ain’t working out well, is it?” He asked. Wakko frowned and didn’t answer. He wasn’t liking his tone...

“Here, I’ll give you a bag of clementines if you’ll let me. I can even help you with those books if you need,” The man said, standing.

“I can take care of myself,” Wakko scowled, but realized that was probably a really stupid thing to say. He was starving...

“B-but I’ll take the clementines...” Wakko added. The man nodded, and stood up, and headed back to his booth. Wakko did his best to ignore the looks the crowd was giving him as he followed.

“Here you go, sixteen clementines. That should do you good for quite some time. Oh- and here,” The man dug under his booth and Wakko stood awkwardly with his tongue sticking out.

“This should get you a train ticket, and hopefully enough left over for those siblings of yours,” he said, handing Wakko a little brown sack. Wakko gawked at it.

“I-i can’t accept all this. I’m sure you need it,” Wakko refused.

“Nonsense. I got all the clementines I could want. And besides, I don’t need to ride on a train to return to my family any time soon,” He waved it off.

“B-but the king’s taxes-”

“I know how to make due. I know you need the money, and if you know what’s good for you you’ll accept,” He pointed at Wakko, and Wakko realized he wasn’t wrong. He just wished he could do something for the man in return, but knew he couldn’t.

“Th-thanks mister... it’s been a really long time since someone’s been this nice to me,” he looked at the ground.

“No problem kiddo. Stay safe out there, winter is a dangerous time. Might want to bandage that knee of yours,” He pointed to Wakko’s bleeding knee. Wakko nodded.

“Thanks, will do, mister,” he said, grabbing the sack of clementines, putting it in the box with the books, and put the little brown bag of money in his hat. He then waved goodbye and headed on to finish his task, get paid, them immediately lose said payment to taxes, but smiled internally. The tax collector didn’t know about the money in his hat, so he didn’t collect it.

It looked like Wakko was going to be able to come home after all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

#animaniacs #my fics #wakko warner #wakkos wish #yakko warner #dot warner

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

The Tattoo (Part Seven, Bit 2)

This is much more substantial than the last bit. Fic has now topped 10,000 words, thank you @vegetacide :P

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for the read throughs and support ::hugs you::

I hope you enjoy this John and Scott bit :D

-o-o-o-

They didn’t make it as far as the rockfall. John drew him to a halt not far from the house, along his morning track, and told him to sit down. It was Thunderbird Five talking and long habit had him obeying. There had always been a question of who was actually in charge of International Rescue. John was a frontline contender.

There was silence for some time as his brother pulled up a rock beside him and they both stared out at the ocean. The breeze was gentle, but a touch cold for this time of year and that made it a little brisk against his skin.

John was known for preferring the hermit life, holed up on Five, but Scott had to give him credit, he knew more about people than he let on. He knew how to play the ebb and flow of a conversation, more as an observer than a participant, but those eyes saw everything.

“I knew about Virgil’s tattoo.” The words were quiet and his brother didn’t look in his direction, speaking to the ocean rather than Scott. “And I think...I think you handled it well.”

Scott stared at him. He shouldn’t be surprised. John kept many secrets. “How?”

This time his brother did turn to face him. “I was there that night you found him.”

Scott’s blood chilled. That night had been hell. That day had been one of the worst. An entire three generations of a family lost in a flood and his brother almost with it. Virgil’s survivor’s guilt had driven him to the edge. It hadn’t helped that they had lost their father only a few months before, that Scott had lost himself for a while there and that he had to admit it, Virgil had taken up the slack while the whole family stumbled.

And it had almost broken him.

Yes, there was a share of his own guilt there amongst those dates. His own failure as a brother and the need for Virgil to etch in those numbers every time they lost someone.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, it was. I should have been there for him.”

“You were.”

“But not enough.”

“It was a hard time.”

Scott let out a frustrated breath. “No excuse.”

“You’re as bad as he is. You can only shoulder so much responsibility.”

“Yeah, well, this responsibility is mine.”

Scott shoved himself to his feet, his runners crunching on volcanic gravel.

John sighed, standing up beside him. “You got him through it. You did everything you could.”

“Dad’s right.”

“Dad’s wrong!” His brother’s words were sharp. “Dad’s in shock, he’s worried, and, I hate to say it, he’s discovering that while International Rescue survived, some things didn’t.”

Scott froze, staring at his brother. “What do you mean?”

John frowned at him. “Things had to change, Scott. Surely you can see that.”

“I...” He had tried so hard to preserve what his father had started. He had kept the spirit, the drive, he had so wanted to make his parents proud. But the truth of his own words haunted him.

They had done the best they could.

The thought that their best wasn’t good enough in his father’s eyes tore at his very soul.

But John’s hand was once again on his shoulder. Hell, he must look bad if his reserved brother felt the need to reach out.

Hell, that wasn’t a fair thought. John...he closed his eyes and wrapped John in a hug. It was rare and his brother squawked, but Scott needed it and he knew John was willing to give it.

He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.

And predictably, space-suited arms wrapped around him and held him tight.

Was John getting taller? Goddamn, the man was all muscle and height, a vast difference to his three other brothers.

“Scott, I need that ribcage.” It was strangled, but amused.

Scott let him go, his own breath coming out in an embarrassed huff of air. He looked down at his shoes, his eye tracking a small beetle as it scurried across the path. His thoughts idled as his brain desperately tried to right itself and he wondered if Virgil or Gordon knew the species.

It spread its wings and flew off, taken by the breeze.

“Thanks, John.” His voice was rough and tied up in emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge. He looked up to find the tiniest of smiles on his brother’s face, those eyes full of what only could be considered love.

Scott bit his lip.

Goddamnit.

He reached out and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “When did you get so damned tall?”

The smile became a grin, the aquamarine dancing in amusement. “When did you get so short?”

Scott reached for his brother’s hair, but the astronaut ducked out of reach before he could muss that orange mess.

“You’ll have to be faster than that.”

“Is that a dare?”

John snorted. “Me? Dare the great Scott Tracy, speed addict, to go faster? I’m not that insane.” But his grin told a different story.

Scott grunted.

“Anyway, you going to show me that rockfall. Virgil said there was some olivine?”

“Virgil said what?”

“Green rocks?”

“Oh, yeah.”

John smirked.

“You know, you are asking for it.”

“Maybe, but can you deliver it?” John turned and started walking up the trail as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Scott glared after him. John knew that Scott wouldn’t tackle him this close to re-entry and certainly not with his gravity support functioning. He muttered under his breath and made a note to strangle him in a few days’ time.

If he was still on Earth.

-o-o-o-

The rest of the day passed quietly. Scott spent some good time with John as they first walked to the landslide and discussed ‘green rocks’ - yes, he was definitely going to strangle his brother at the first opportunity, possibly Virgil as well, once he was better. Of course, thinking of Virgil sobered him dramatically. John picked up on it and dragged him further around the Island.

It had been a while since his brother had made the trek around the rim of their home and Scott gained the experience of seeing it all anew through John’s eyes, despite having made the run himself that morning and every other morning prior.

First looking down at the open ocean pounding the north side of the Island, its raw energy thrown against volcanic cliffs. Then up at the sky which had a scattering of windblown clouds skating across the Pacific from the general direction of Tonga.

His mind automatically supplied the speed he would need, the likely turbulence, his flight path off the Island...

If he had wings, he would have taken flight.

The fact John was smiling fondly at him again, had him grunting and stalking off further down the path.

John knew him far too well.

Eventually they did return to the villa, but by then Scott felt so much more settled, more centred, more able to take on his father calmly. To face what needed to be faced.

But he didn’t expect to find Virgil confronting his father when he should be in bed. Didn’t expect to find the anger in Gordon’s expression or the pain in his father’s.

It brought him up short.

“What’s going on?”

-o-o-o-

End Part Seven.

Part Eight, Bit 1

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

not all monsters do monstrous things...

Part 6: The Argument

Summary of Series: Delly Cartwright lost her best friend, Peeta, to the games. Now, the one that took him seems to have a soft spot for her.

Summary of Chapter: Delly has been living with Cato for a couple weeks now but his constant sneaking out leaves her feeling angry and alone.

Warning: Fluff, some angst, mentions of prostitution,

Author’s Note: This one is a bit longer but we’re starting to get to more exciting parts of the series so get pumped! Again, credit goes to original fanfic.net writer of They Caught Fire. Find it, read it, it’s good. Mine is slightly more flushed out but the idea is the same. So credit where credit is due.

masterlist

the other masterlist

Delly’s P.O.V

It had been two weeks since you were torn from your home and brought to the Capitol to live with Cato. He tried explaining it to you but you refused to listen.

“You can’t ignore me forever” he said after days of you not talking to him, earning a scoff from you as you walked to the couch, “if you would just talk to me, you’d understand why you’re here”

“I’m not interested”

“So you’re just going to live here in silence?”

“If that’s the way it has to be”

“Whatever,” he sighed, rubbing his temples, “I have to go. Stay here, read some books. Watch something. So whatever, just stay here. Got it?”

“Yeah-uh” you said, waving your hand to shoo him away and he shook his head as a reply. When he finally left, you caught yourself staring at the closed door, biting the corner of your mouth as you contemplated peeking out the hole in the door. You huffed as you stood up and hopped to the door, hoping you’d still be able to see him, and, there he was, climbing into a limo, “where is he going?” You said to yourself as the car drove away toward the bright lights of the Capitol Centre. You spent a few hours searching through his cabinets and exploring different rooms of the house, starting to get bored but not knowing what else to do. When you had run out of options, you decided to get some sleep when there was a knock on the door, “company?” You thought to yourself, “it couldn’t be, Cato wouldn’t allow that.” Whoever was at the door, knocked again and you stood behind the door, biting your lip as your hand hesitated to open the door

“Hello?” The voice called, you suddenly flew toward the door to answer it, desperate for company. “Oh! Hello?” they said

“Hello..” you replied, not inviting them in

“I’m Finnick,” he smiled, outstretching his hand, “nice to meet you.”

“I’m--” you stopped, not knowing if you should introduce yourself, “Delly.”

“Can I come in, Delly?” he asked, walking past you into Cato’s home

“Uhh..” you stammered, “I’m sorry, Cato isn’t here”

“No I know. He’s out... partying” he smirked

“Can I help you with something?”

“I just wanted to meet you”

“You know about me?”

“Cato mentioned something a little while ago”

“I see...” you sighed, closing the door and walking in his direction

“He explained you quite accurately,” he said and you tilted your head, “he was very... smitten, let’s say.”

“Smitten?” you scoffed, “he’s sure doing a hell of a job showing it”

“Go easy on him, huh?” he said softly, sitting on the couch as if he was going to be staying a while

“Go easy on the victor who killed my best friend and tore me away from my family?” you snarled

“He’s been put in a tough situation now. He’s actually not a bad guy...”

“How am I supposed to act? He won’t tell me why I’m here, He didn’t even ask me to come here -- I was just thrown into a train and dragged here”

“I have a feeling he tried to tell you why you’re here but you didn’t listen”

“No...” you tried, “fine. I’ve been trying to ignore him because I’m angry. I don’t want to be here, I want to be at home with my family and friends.”

“He means well,” he laughed, “he’s just... never had to be nice to anyone before.” You scoffed again, rolling your eyes, finally sitting down next to him

“You’re really going to tell me to sit there and give him a chance?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

“Because,” he sighed, looking down as he twiddled his thumbs, “I think you’ll realize how much he needs you.” The words caught you off guard. No one had ever needed you before. Not your parents. Not your brother. Not Peeta. No one. So the idea that you could be that important to someone made you want to rethink everything.

“But..” you started, sighing and leaning back into the couch as you groaned, “I haven’t been able to leave this giant house for two weeks. And he leaves every chance he gets”

“Let him explain why..” Finnick urged

“Why can’t I leave?”

“Because you’re not from here. People would have questions”

“No one knows me here”

“You forget that the reapings and the tours are all broadcast. People know you’re Peeta’s best friend. They may not remember your name but they know your story” he replied, leaning his elbows on his knees

“Great...” you sighed, “so I’m just supposed to give Cato a chance while I stay locked up here like some... prisoner?”

“Oh, Ms. Cartwright,” he scoffed, “you’re not the only prisoner here.” You scrunched your eyebrows together and opened your mouth to speak when Cato threw the door open and huffed as he walked through the large corridors. Doubling back when he realized that you were, in fact, not alone.

“Finnick?” he asked with a growl. He looked like he’d had quite the night; shirt torn, hair messed up, a small purple mark forming on his jaw

“Hey buddy!” Finnick laughed, “how was your night?”

“What are you doing here?” he said through bared teeth and you watched as Finnick led him back to the door, whispering something in his ear that you didn’t quite hear, until they looked back at you

“Just sit down and talk to her” Finnick said to Cato as he waved goodbye to you. You waved back and waited for Cato to yell at you for inviting someone in but instead he just closed the door softly and stood with his head against the door for a moment before finally speaking to you

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake...”

“I was going to go to bed but Finnick...” you started

“What did he tell you?” the words grew louder with each step he took toward you, forcing a flinch to overtake you until you were practically cowering with fear

“He didn’t tell me anything,” you replied meekly, “he just told me to give you a chance.” He seemed to soften at your confession, dropping his head and letting out a sigh

“You should get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Cato’s P.O.V.

You didn’t know what to do with Delly. You weren’t sure if she was telling you the truth about Finnick and you needed to know what he told her in order to protect her. But she was making it increasingly difficult.

“Delly,” you said as she walked into the kitchen the next morning, “we should talk...”

“Sure” she replied, sitting down at the table

“I don’t know what Finnick told you but in order for us to trust each other,” you started, watching her eyes follow your movements, “there’s probably some things you should know.”

“Yeah.. like... why you’re--”

“I didn’t tear you away from your home.” You interrupted and she furrowed her brow at you, “I was in the middle of writing you a letter explaining what was going on when Wade, my mentor, explained what was happening to you.”

“I’m supposed to believe that? I’m not supposed to think that this is what Victors do? That this is what your District Partner would’ve done if the two of you won together? Keeping people around like prizes to do whatever you please with”

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” you yelled

“WHY NOT?! IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DO! I AM SO SICK OF WALKING AROUND GLASS TO NOT UPSET YOU!”

“Watch what you say next Delly...” you warned but she didn’t listen

“You were all cruel, in that arena. I get it, you had to be. But her?” she said, “she was the worst. Of all of the Careers.”

“She was a soldier” you said

“SHE WAS INSANE!”

“SHE WAS TRAINED!”

“TO BE A INSANE PERSON?!”

“IF SHE WAS INSANE, AM I NOT A MONSTER?”

“MAYBE YOU ARE! MAYBE I WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU!”

“AT LEAST I’M NOT WEAK. LIKE YOU AND YOUR LITTLE BAKER FRIEND.”

“WHY DID YOU EVEN BRING ME HERE?!” Her yelling had caused her voice to crack and you could only imagine how raw her throat must have felt. Her eyes were beginning to well with tears, “I just wanna go home”

“If you leave,” he stammered, sitting down across from where you stood, “I can’t protect you”

“Protect me? From what?” You asked

“President Snow.”

“I don’t und--” she started but stopped quickly when you glared at her

“He saw us talking at the Apothecary, during the Tour,” you explained, “he got the idea in his head that there was something going on between us. So, he used you against me”

“What does that mean?”

“He said he would kill you and your family if I didn’t do what he said. I couldn’t let you die. I didn’t want you to die”

“Why not?” she asked harshly, forcing you to shake your head at her question, “you don’t know me. You don’t know my family. You’ve killed people before, and we’re just from District 12. We’re outsiders right? So it wouldn’t have been a big deal to you to kill us.”

“Delly...” you said softly, reaching out to hold her hands but she tore them away from you, “Snow wasn’t wrong. Maybe you don’t feel anything for me. Maybe you have feelings for Gale..”

“Gale?” she questioned

“But,” you continued, “there was something for me there when we met. I didn’t know what President Snow would do but I knew I couldn’t let anything happen to you. Things just spiraled.” You watched as she shook her head, trying to understand your words, and her eyes shifted around the room

“Fine.” She huffed, “but explain to me why you’re always leaving? Why I can’t go anywhere? I hate being cooped up here all the time and you leave at all hours of the day! I mean sometimes you’re gone before I wake up and then out the entire day. What are you doing?”

“I can’t--”

“You have to!” she yelled

“No, I don’t!” you shouted back

“Then let me leave.” She countered, sitting back against her chair and crossing her arms over her chest

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” she replied, “let me go outside. Take me with you, wherever it is you go. Take me to one party in the Capitol and I won’t say anything more about it. I’ll stay here and continue to do as you expect me to do.”

“Delly...” you groaned

“I’m thousands of miles from home. From my family. From everything I’ve ever known. I deserve not to be treated like a criminal!” The two of you stared at each other for a while before you eventually agreed, even though you knew it was a bad idea that meant Snow would be displeased. But the smile on her face almost made it worth it, you just hoped it would be a fatal agreement.

Delly’s P.O.V

You had somehow managed to convince Cato to take you out of his mansion and into the Capitol for a party. You were sure that was where he was constantly running off to every night and you just wanted to see why he was so consumed with it. He set out a dress for you on your bed that you were positive his stylist had picked out for him -- a short metallic pastel blue dress to compliment his eyes with sharp shoulders that reminded you of Effie Trinket’s outfits during the Reapings -- and you quickly got dressed to head to the club that Cato was taking you to. When you walked into the club, you were in awe at the opulence of it all; the ceiling stretched for miles and the marble tile covered the entirety of the club, making the music echo throughout every corner. There was stained glass on the dome ceiling that looked as if it depicted great wars and you couldn’t help but be lost in the images you saw.

“Delly?” Cato asked, bringing you back to reality

“Sorry,” you said, “I’ve just never seen anything so beautiful before”

“You’re going to give yourself away” he whispered to you

“What do you mean?” you asked

“I got you this dress so people would think that you were from the inner districts, 1, 2, 3, not from District 12. If you continue to fawn over the ceiling, people will definitely know you’re not from here,” he chided, still whispering in your ear, “you look stunning by the way.” You blushed at his compliment and composed yourself, taking your eyes away from the décor

“So, how do I blend in?” you asked

“For starters,” he smirked, “have a drink. Then something to eat. Then move over to the dance floor”

“I’m allowed to dance?” you joked

“Yes,” he said, “but not too much. Just enough to show off your dress and then head back to the bar.” You did as he said, not wanting to get either of you in trouble, until you saw someone pull him aside

“He’s just doing business,” a voice said from behind you, “don’t worry, he won’t leave you behind.” You turned around to find Johanna Mason watching Cato walk away with a woman much older than him

“What do you mean?” you said as you turned to her, “what kind of business?”

“Oh sweetheart,” she laughed, “you must be the girl from District 12.”

“What? No! I’m from District 1...” you lied, hoping that the dress and your makeup would fool her

“He talked about you, Cato, he told us about the girl he met on his Victory Tour whose hair was beautifully gold and whose eyes were like oceans of Sapphire.” She scoffed, forcing you to furrow your brows at her statements, “It’s okay, I’m not going to out you.”

“What did you mean about Cato? What kind of business is he doing with that woman?” you asked again

“President Snow has many of the Victors... sell themselves to members of the Capitol Elite as a way of keeping them in line.” You thought about it for a moment but didn’t want to believe it

“No,” you replied, “Snow loves Cato. He was the perfect victor. He believes that the games are exactly what Snow has told Panem they are.”

“It’s that kind of dedication that Snow preys on. He needs someone who he can control and tell him that it’s all the price you pay for winning the Games.” She moved to sit down on a curved, purple velvet couch and encouraged you to do the same, which you did, as she continued to explain, “See, I’m not like the other Victors. I don’t have anyone left that I care about so Snow couldn’t force me to do anything. I was free to decline his offer and he couldn’t do anything about it. But the others, they weren’t so lucky. Our dear President would threaten the lives of those we loved most if we, as Victors, didn’t do exactly as he asked.”

“He said he’d kill us” you mumbled to yourself

“Yes,” Johanna responded, “or, more accurately, he’d have someone kill you.”

“So why me? Why would President Snow threaten to kill me and not Cato’s family?”

“Because,” she huffed, “Cato’s family are the only ones in District 2 who train the tributes to become Victors. Sure, it’s an illegal activity that should not be condoned by our government but it makes for a more exciting Hunger Games, so President Snow allows it. Encourages it even. And because Cato’s parents are the experts in training our young Victors, Snow knew Cato wouldn’t believe his threats against them. That’s where you come in.”

“I’m not exactly Cato’s type...” you groaned, “he’s not exactly going to worry about me enough for Snow not to kill me or my family. I mean... if he cared he wouldn’t be working tonight”

“He’s always working. Whether he thinks he is or not” she said

“So what do I do?” You replied, turning your head in hopes of finding the tall blonde victor you came with

“Take in the Capitol luxury. Drink, dance, eat. Kiss someone if you want. But be careful what you say. You never know who might be listening...” You turned your head back just in time to find Johanna had left you and you shrugged before heading to the bar to order a drink, only to be stopped by an arm

“I’ve never seen you before...” the voice that belonged to the arm said

“I’m.. uhm... a friend of Cato’s...” you stuttered

“The new victor?” you nodded nervously, “I’m Gloss.” He seemed to be sizing you up and you weren’t quite sure how to proceed, “you look familiar. Where would I have seen you?” he continued to pry and your mouth began to feel dry

“He bothering you?” Cato said as he suddenly appeared behind you

“No, he’s fine. It’s fine, I was just going to get a drink...” you replied, gesturing toward the bar and to Gloss to get him to move aside. He apologized and moved aside while you ordered a drink but when the bartender wouldn’t order you a drink, Cato stepped in

“Glass of Champagne, Bartender,” he said, “and quick. Before I get angry.” You looked up at him, amazed at how much his presence seemed to compel everyone to listen to him, before smiling and taking a sip of your drink. “What?” he chuckled when he noticed you staring

“Dance with me” you smiled

“I don’t know, Delly,” he whined, “people might talk.”

“People will always talk but we’re here to have fun”

“One dance.” He caved and you dragged him onto the dance floor. You both moved to the fast-paced music, you laughing at him when he did an old-fashioned dance move, until the music slowed and you awkwardly smiled at him

“I know you said one dance...” he smiled back at you, moving closer to you and putting your arms on his shoulders while he placed his hands on your hips. His eyes began roaming the club and you tried to bring his attention back to you, if only to calm his nerves, but it didn’t work.

“We should go. People are staring...” He dropped his hands from your hips, taking your hand and leading you outside where a car was waiting. When you arrived back at his house, he ran ahead of you and you tried to talk to him

“Cato...” you called, “please, Cato, talk to me.” He stood across from you, eyes trained on yours, and you took a sharp inhale in preparation for what he might say

“We shouldn’t have been dancing like that. I shouldn’t have brought you there.” He replied sternly

“Why didn’t you tell me? About what Snow was making you do?” you asked, moving slowly toward him

“What was I supposed to say? I’m being prostituted by our President so you don’t die?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, “because it’s the truth. And it would have made so much more sense than him just bringing me here for no reason.”

“Well, I didn’t know exactly what to say...” He dropped his eyes to the floor and, for the first time, he seemed so vulnerable. Almost scared.

“You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to. I get it now. I get that he’s got a hold on you and that you’re just as much a prisoner as I felt I was. I’m here to listen, if you need it, but otherwise, I’ll do as you ask and stay here. I won’t complain and I won’t ask questions.”

“I don’t want you to be miserable...” he confessed and you smiled

“Just talk to me every once in a while. Make me feel like I’m human and maybe you’ll feel more human, too.”

“Deal.” He smiled, gently taking your hand in his, rubbing your palm with his thumb before clearing his throat and heading to bed. You weren’t sure what any of tonight meant -- the dance, the kindness he showed you, the way he stood up for you, -- but you hoped that this wasn’t all there was for the two of you.

#Cato #Cato Hadley #Cato Berenger #Cato Hunger Games #Cato The Hunger Games #Cato/Delly #Delly #Delly Cartwright #Delly Hunger Games #Delly The Hunger Games #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #masterlist #the other masterlist

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darlingsdevil · 4 years

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The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 2: “Daffodils”

A/N: Have I mentioned this entire fic came to me while listening to Big Fish the musical?

Masterlist

•••

It had been three months since you had last seen Arthur, and you had come to terms with your husband’s death. You ended up in Richfield, a large city just on the other side of the Grizzlies. Quite literally, there was a mountain between you and your old life.

You saw Arthur in the bookstore when you pulled a book from a shelf, he was there for a split second staring right back at you through the shelves with a shy smile and twinkling blue eyes that dazzled like Flat Iron Lake. It took your breath away and pure joy and panic swelled in your heart every time. He was there at the end of the street, packing up Boadicea, just around the corner of the saloon, but when you blinked and came to your senses, he was gone. You knew it was insane, and you knew damn well he wasn’t coming back from the grave, but still you relished those moments, only if he was there for less than a second. It was like the winds from the Grizzlies had come down and swept him away, and with those winds, your hope. But those winds brought in the spring air, the ones that began to regrow your garden that had froze over.

Time was a wise healer. Arthur’s death was devastating and painful and everyday you felt the aftermath of your past mistakes. You had only recently been married to Arthur, only two months prior to his death so barely anyone knew that you had taken up the last name Morgan. Still, you kept your answers short when people asked you of your life before Richfield “The City of Opportunity”. You feared someone would recognize you, so you stayed from the more crowded areas of the city.

Life had been rough since the gang’s demise but things were beginning to look up, you rode with John for a month until you decided Richfield was where you wanted to be. John had enough on his plate, trying to keep him and his family alive in a cruel world, and he wanted to put as much distance as he could between him and wherever the hell Dutch and Micah were. Abigail begged you to stay a little longer with them, but you declined the offer. Richfield was a good of a place as any other.

Luckily, you were able to find a job at a general store within a few days of getting dropped off in Richfield and you had enough money to rent a small apartment above the general store within two weeks of your arrival there. Richfield was a new industrial city, lots of steel mills, but the people weren’t your average city folk. It was up and coming, so many of the citizens had lived there when it was just a small farming town. The only farms left were the ones on the outskirts of the city, but most of them had been turned commercial.

Richfield was a new start, you only hoped you could leave that old life behind even if you did still hold onto some hope that Arthur was still alive. That small sliver of wishful thinking was waning everyday, the odds of him making it off that mountain were greatly against him and you had come to terms with it then, but after no word from any of your former friends you began to become worried of your friends fates.

•••

Arthur’s cough got better with each passing day. It had been three months since Charles pulled a dying Arthur into Wapiti. At the beginning of his treatment, it was horrible, Charles was sure he would wake up one day and Arthur would be dead, but months passed and he hadn’t died yet.

His coughing was less frequent and with less ferocity, Charles had brought Arthur into the Valentine doctor a week ago, and there had been less fluid in his lungs which was a wonderful sign. Arthur’s body was fighting a hard battle, the recovery was slow and painstaking. The first month was dreadful and he was bedridden, fevers accompanied him frequently creating horrible dreams and delirious moments. He had passed out from coughing the second month once when Charles was out hunting and the healer woman, Mahala had nursed him back to health.

During the second month, Charles decided to begin building a home four miles south of Wapiti. The people of a Wapiti had given them so much already, it would be rude to take more from a group of people who had already lost so much.

It was a small cabin near a lake, but it was strong and sturdy. Wildlife was abundant there. Arthur wasn’t quite strong enough for the move yet, but soon he would be. Arthur claimed he was ready to go, but Charles knew better. Arthur was becoming ansty and the people of Wapiti were weary of his long stay and the people Charles and Arthur used to be associated with.

Charles spoke little of the gang and Arthur hadn’t asked about you, but he sure did think about you. Arthur decided it was the best at the moment if he didn’t seek you out, he would just pull himself deeper into his sickness. It tore at him that he thought this way, that he was so selfish, but it was simply for the best. It was wiser to allow the dust to settle then to kick up even more. Arthur worried for you constantly and he secretly hoped you were searching for him too even if he knew that you presumed him dead. You had both said your goodbyes, and Arthur was fine with being dead to you at the moment.

•••

“Why do you wear that ring? You’ve never mentioned being married.” Lee asked you one day while you swept the floors of the general store. He had no filter, but he never intentionally said something that would hurt you.

“It was my husband’s ring.” You said bluntly, continuing with your sweeping. You stopped to fix a jar of peaches that had fallen over and you remembered Arthur’s secret sweet tooth he had, that only you and Jack had known about.

Lee was taken aback by your short answer, his hands stopped counting the money in the drawer.

“Oh.. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” His ears burned with shame, cursing his curious tongue.

“It’s alright.” You said shaking your head.

It was late at night, the general store had been closed for an hour. A caravan had stopped during the day, and the patrons were rowdy, they messed up the towers of canned foods and didn’t bother to pick them back up so it took even longer to close the store. The caravan was a mirror of the gang, near 25 men and women, a few children. It was bittersweet to see them, even if they had messed up your store, you knew your group was far from civilized. You longed for the days around the campfire, everyone laughing and smiling, but it had been so long since then, and much had changed.

Lee was a close friend of yours, he was the son of the old man who owned the shop, and the only other worker there. He was playful and teased you a lot, but he was kind and thoughtful. You could tell he was sweet on you, and perhaps you were a little bit as well. It was too soon, Arthur barely dead and you were already blushing around another man. It was shameful.

You finally finished your sweeping, Lee leaned against the counter, eyeing a butterscotch sweet next to the counter. You sighed.

“Just take it.”

Lee grinned like a child, plucking the butterscotch off the small dish.

He turned around towards the front door, locking it with ease. You turned towards the stairs that led up to your apartment. Lee and his father's apartment was directly below yours.

Lee quickly opened the door for you, the stairwell was dim. You hated walking up it, it was steep and rickety. The building itself was one of the oldest in the city, it held heavy memories. Lee’s mother had passed away in the house while giving birth to her second child, Lee’s little sister, Anastasia. Anastasia ran away when she was 17, to marry an outlaw. Apparently, that got her killed. Lee received word of her death a few years ago, he hadn’t seen her since the day she left, he didn’t even know where she was buried. The life of an outlaw never ended well.

Lee never spoke of her much, all you knew was that she was passionate and opinionated, a true wild card and you could tell the outlaw life would’ve done her well. Lee had a strong hate for outlaws and criminals because of it, he still didn’t know about your past and you intended to keep it that way.

Lee’s father was a kind man, he was quiet but you could tell he loved Lee very much. He wasn’t around much, he spent most of his time in his room but occasionally he would help run the shop.

You reached the platform outside of Lee’s apartment. He stopped right behind you, dangerously close. Your heart pounded in your ears. It didn’t help that the platform was incredibly small either. You turned to face him.

“Give me your hand.” He said, almost a whisper. You reached out your hand and he placed a small round object on it, under further inspection you realized it was a butterscotch candy.

You smiled, looking back up at him. He had a shy grin plastered on his face. You were thankful of the darkness of the stairwell, otherwise he would have seen your ferocious blushing.

“Goodnight, Lee.” You kissed him on the cheek, grasping your candy firmly in your palm, and you calmly made your way up to your apartment, leaving Lee flustered on the doorstep.

•••

On a particularly warm day, despite it being fall, Arthur arose from his bed to take a walk around the perimeter. Mahala eyed him cautiously but he simply smiled, something he was becoming better at. Mahala had become close with Arthur, she was like another Miss Grimshaw, a tough love mother to him. Charles was out for the day, and Rains Fall was nowhere to be found. It was quiet in the village.

The sun was bright and the crispness of the air felt wonderful to Arthur. His legs were still tense from lying down for so long, they felt heavy and strange.

Arthur missed the days of hunting, just getting on Boadicea and riding into the sunset. He missed not being watched every second, Mahala and Charles fretting over him every second. He missed the days where he could spread his wings and fly. He was caged at the moment, and an injured bird cannot fly. An injured bird still has the instinct to soar, even if the owners are particularly kind.

But Arthur knew this calm, peacefulness was just what he needed. After a life of running, he needed a place to become grounded for once.

He found himself walking further and further, farther than he’d ever walked before. He found himself at a slow stream, the water trickling over the rocks. The birds sang through the trees and Arthur found himself sitting down next to the water.

He studied the terrain, wishing he would have kept his journal with him. This was a perfect place for a landscape sketch. The next time Charles went into Valentine, he would have to ask for a new journal.

On the other side of the stream, there was a bright yellow flower. It was strange to see, it stuck out against the dark greens and grays of the forest.

“It’s a daffodil.” A voice spoke from behind him, making him jump. Mahala stood next to Arthur, her hands on her hips.

“What would have happened if something attacked you out here? Could you have fought them off?” She asked the former outlaw, glaring at him like she had caught her child with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Well I didn’t get attacked, did I? Besides, I was just lookin’ at that flower. What'd you say it was? A daffodil?” He asked, pointing towards the sun colored flower.

Mahala glared at him before returning her attention to the flower, her gaze softened.

“Yes. The rebirth flower.”

#The Ballads of Rebirth #TBOR #Arthur Morgan x Reader #Arthur Morgan x Female Reade #rdr2 angst #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #rdr2 x reader #angst #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 23)

24 part AU written for @cssns. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy!!

A/N: Hey all! So we are back with another chapter of Lost Souls and Reveries and, as is very typical of me, I found myself trying to wrap up this story and I’ve come to the realization I need a few more chapters to do the story justice. I also had multiple readers ask (okay, beg) me to pick up the story right where the last chapter had ended so I have done that with this chapter. Be advised we will move from Killian’s POV to another character who’s POV we’ve never had before. But rest assured you’ll get some fluff, some smut, and some cuteness before getting back into the drama. Thanks so much for reading, and can’t wait to see what you all think!

Hearing Emma say the words, ‘I do’ just now as they made their vows to each other out on the front porch changed the entire plan Killian had for this evening. There could be no soft and sweet or slow and steady when he knew Emma loved him just as fiercely and entirely as he loved her. It brought too much to the forefront, prompting his body to pulse with the need and adrenaline reserved only for two perfectly suited fated mates. This didn’t seem to bother Emma though, for she replied in kind, holding him tightly and clamoring for more as they moved past the front door and into their new home.

A tour might have been an obvious first step, but it would have to wait. Right now, Killian craved the taste of his love and the satisfaction that came with making her purr. He could smell her want for him and feel the way her body shook with anticipation and desire. It was like their first night spent together all over again. None of the frenzy had dissipated, and his confidence and assuredness in them had only grown stronger. He and Emma were forever. There was nothing but this – nothing but them – and he let out a growl of approval at that as he made quick work of the alarm and bolted the front door, locking them away from the rest of the world. Before she could put even a few inches of space between them he was on her, resulting in a yelp of anticipation from Emma that dissolved very quickly into a throaty moan.

“Killian.”

His name on her lips soothed him even as they drove him just a little more insane. Didn’t she realize how lost he was for her and how such strong displays of her infatuation would drive him even more wild? She was stirring the animal inside of him, making him and his wolf completely desperate for more.

“I had a plan, love. I was going to take you room by room through this house. I was going to tell you of my dreams for this place and ask you of yours,” he said as his hands brought her harder against him, her core rubbing against his hard length through the denim of his jeans. She writhed at his show of power, her eyes hazing over to a lusty emerald green. “But that plan is no longer viable.”

“It isn’t?” Emma asked, her tongue coming out to wet her lips, taunting him and splintering his already fractured control.

“No. I can’t wait any longer, love. Maybe another day, in another moment…” he trailed off, not wanting to revisit the harrowing episodes from earlier today again, but Emma understood. Instead of letting that linger she pulled him down to kiss her and fed directly into his new dream. Soon he had her caught between his body and the wall and as he tore his lips from hers, seeking out her slender neck, he hummed before nipping at her pulse.

“You unravel me, Emma,” he said as his hands roamed her body with power and precision. He held her tight, his hold absolute, dominating his love in a way more befitting of a wolf than a man. It was primal, but oh so right, for him and for his mate, as was made clear by Emma’s little keening cries for more and her ever strengthening scent. “My mate, my wife, I must have you.”

“You do. Totally and completely,” she exclaimed, her voice growing pitchy as her breathing grew more labored.

She wiggled against him, and he resented the clothes still between them. Without real care for any of it, he stripped them down of everything he could, ripping away whatever wouldn’t easily go. He pretty much destroyed the whole outfit his Emma had been donning, but he didn’t give a damn. He’d buy her a hundred more if it made her happy, and in this moment she didn’t seem to care, watching him with increasing excitement and desire with each rip and tear. When she was naked before him, he stood for a split second totally hypnotized. He didn’t know where to start. He wanted to devour her completely and he traced the lines of where he could begin over and over a thousand times in mere moments. But when his eyes landed on the place where their pup was now growing more and more every day, he was pushed to action again, overtaken by the knowledge that he’d filled her womb with his child almost from the start. She was his in every way, tying them together and building something wholly good from their union, and both those things only made him want her more.

“It’s moments like this I thank God a little extra for what you are, love,” Killian murmured against her skin, his instincts trying to decide where it would be best to take her. Sure he could gather her up and bring her upstairs, but that would take time. Time he had no interest in wasting.

“What I am?” she asked, not following.

“A perfect blend of human and shifter. It makes you strong, love, strong enough that when I take you tonight I don’t have to hold back. I would have loved you any way you came, Emma. Never doubt that, but knowing how much you can handle…” he said as he knelt before her, his hands keeping her pressed against the wall as he maneuvered her to bring her waiting heat to his hungry mouth. “Knowing I can take you hard and make you mine again and again, well that’s the definition of a miracle.”

Without further discussion he took exactly what he wanted, savoring her taste and her desire while sating some of his need for her. This urge to dominate her, to take what he wanted while also giving her everything she could ever wish for pounded through his body, and after a day as riddled with peril as the one they’d just faced, he could do nothing to curtail this. The sounds of her wild and unchecked wants were music to his ears, and he started to lose grasp of his conscious human mind. Everything was instinct as his animal took over with just basic pulsing words blaring in his head as he tasted her sensitive flesh.

Mine. Take. Claim. Mine. Take. Claim.

He felt Emma crash into her completion once and then again and again. He drew her out and never let her rest, but when she couldn’t take love in this form any more he shifted their position, bringing her down to the ground with him but having her from behind. They’d done this before but never so brazenly, never with so much rampant need. It made the back of his throat tight with a need to howl, and when Emma begged him to take her he almost did. He cursed aloud but felt that biting sense of bliss as he slammed into her over and over. He lost himself in this but it wasn’t enough. It felt like the mating moon bearing down on them, but it was just their love. No other magic was at play, save for the magic that lay in Emma. Ultimately he needed to change their position again, never feeling fully complete without seeing her fall apart and when she did he wasn’t far behind. And in those precious moments where they truly became one, Killian found that all too elusive peace that told him just how perfect they were for each other.

“That was…” Emma couldn’t seem to find the words as they lay together on the living room floor, both spent and reveling in what they’d just done, with nothing like shame or embarrassment between them. “God, I don’t even have words. Can we do that again?”

“Every day of our lives, my love.”

After a few more moments spent enjoying their togetherness and the way that their burdens felt far beyond their reach, Killian wanted to show his soon to be bride their new home. There was just one problem – in his haste to claim his mate, he’d made a real mess of their clothes, hers most notably and in the end all they had between them was his jeans and shirt.

“There are clothes upstairs,” he explained, running his hand through his hair distractedly, as Emma stood up, completely exposed and unfazed in the slightest. But then she smiled at him and he was truly driven to distraction.

“Why bother?” she asked, stealing his shirt and throwing it over herself, the hem of it coming to just about midthigh, covering her, but making her no less tempting to him in the process. She gestured to his jeans and he put them on, reveling in the look in her eyes when he remained shirtless and available for her viewing pleasure. “See? We’re golden.”

Killian laughed at her assessment before taking her hand in his and guiding her on an actual tour through their new home, a place she clearly loved, even before seeing the redone interior. It was a great gift to him to know that he had made such a good decision in buying this estate, and Emma’s enthusiasm and excitement reassured him that he could not have done better. She was enamored with this house, and thankfully she was on board with all of the changes he’d made so far.

“I can’t believe this can be the same house. Everything is so bright and airy, but it’s still timeless,” Emma marveled, taking in the high ceilings that the first floor boasted and the charming antique moldings that adorned the walls. He’d had the contracting crew paint everything a pale eggshell for the time being, wanting a clean canvass that Emma could change should she so wish, but even like this the house was somehow still cozy. It didn’t have any sort of sterile, modern malaise. It was simple sophistication, and that seemed to be exactly what Emma wanted.

When Killian first saw the house, there were some rooms that were beyond salvaging, but many were diamonds in the rough. In some spaces, like the sunroom which was directly next to their living room, the antique windows that had always been there still worked perfectly. They formed a large glass encasement facing the east, so that early morning sunlight would always fill the area. With a bit of cleaning and restoration, the gilded beauty of a more ostentatious time was made relevant again, and the effect was classic and homey all at once. The room lacked furnishings now, but Emma immediately had ideas, something Killian knew would happen. He was almost glad for this little bit of chaos, if only because it sped up his reveal of their home. With Emma’s wishes known now, he could make this place a completed, calming hideaway for them by the time they were truly wed, and that was a goal he would be glad to accomplish. In this room especially, Killian could imagine shared stolen moments. Someday this home would be filled with their children, and there would be rare segments of time when Emma and Killian weren’t attending to them, but in the early morning, when the sun was just rising, or just after dusk when the stars were starting to appear in a vast night sky, Killian could envision them curled up, sharing a coffee or a cocoa and enjoying the respite, however fleeting it might be.

Other areas like the kitchen, were beyond small fixes. The contractors gutted the whole thing, and what now stood there was a contemporary looking space that was big enough for everything they needed. There was ample counterspace, new appliances, and a kitchen island made of local white granite, and most importantly there was an open wall so that he or Emma could see directly into what would be one day be their children’s playroom when they were cooking meals. That wasn’t the original layout of the house, but Killian had been adamant with the contractor that this was what he wanted. He and Emma hadn’t discussed this at length, but he knew that her career and the service she provided to the community meant everything to her. As such, he anticipated that he would take on a bulk of watching the kids and keeping things handled over here. He was desirous to do that, knowing that providing his family with love, protection, and stability after being denied that for so much of his youth would make him a better man. This fresh start with Emma was a way to do things right, and though it might seem overprotective, he wanted the ability to keep tabs on all their little ones at any given moment.

“This kitchen is amazing,” Emma gushed, running her hand along the sleek new features with adoration. Suddenly her cheeks flushed and Killian was on her immediately, wrapping her up in his arms and demanding to know what thought she’d had that made her blush. “I was just thinking that we’ll probably be spending a lot of time in here. What with all my pregnancy cravings and everything.”

Killian knew she didn’t just mean cravings for food, of which Emma had already begun to show signs. Since he’d gotten her pregnant Emma had been even hungrier for the love between them, and that was perfectly fine with Killian. He craved Emma every second of every day, and if she liked this kitchen and had visions of satisfaction stemming from this space, then who was he to deny her what she wanted? Hell, he’d take her right this moment if she indicated that was what she wished, but clearly this tour meant so much to her, and they still had much to see.

The rest of the first floor was all pretty standard, though Emma commented again and again about how open it was and about how it was exactly like she’d always wanted. But it took getting upstairs for really overflowing emotions to emerge. Emma saw the rooms Killian had begun to design for their future children and the features he’d put in already, like reading nooks and bay windows that matched her own childhood bedroom. There was a circular ‘tower’ room that he’d converted into a library, and even now many of Emma’s favorite books were adorning the built-in shelves around the space. She had been so busy she didn’t notice him taking them from her apartment above the clinic, but seeing them now she was overcome with emotion. Her eyes filled with happy tears, and her voice grew soft and strained from all that she was feeling.

“Oh, Killian, it’s perfect,” She said, running her hands along the wooden shelves with a dreamy expression.

After a few more minutes, Emma noticed the books that adorned many of the lower shelves and in the face of them her unshed tears managed to slip down her cheeks. For there, in an area most easily reached, there were already some childhood story staples. More than a few of those were courtesy of Emma’s parents. They had saved her favorite books from when she was a young girl and gifted them back now in hopes that one day their grandchildren would enjoy the same stories. Meanwhile, though his own possessions were much less vast than Emma’s were from childhood, there were even a few bounded tales from his youth, which he one day hoped to share with his children.

“I was thinking I could put the telescope here,” Killian said, drawing her to another wall that was made almost entirely of glass and which dipped upwards, allowing for a beautiful view of the night sky. Already the stars were twinkling, and though the grounds of their house were largely obscured by the shadows of the night, the sight was still beautiful. “I always loved the stars as a boy, I figure chances are one of our little ones might be the same.”

“They all will. They’re all going to want to be just like their Dad,” Emma said, bringing Killian’s hand atop their growing pup and smiling as she did. “They’re not even here yet and already you’re the best kind of father. You love us all so much, and that’s the one thing that matters most of all.”

Killian agreed that she was right. His love for their family was forever. It was unconditional and it would never end, as long as he lived and ever thereafter. That was probably evident in the way he’d begun to style the nurseries and designed the rest of their home, but in one room there was no real hint of their children. The master bedroom would be their space, a den of sorts, built to be the essence of comfort for him and Emma. From a giant bed with flowing white linens, to the giant clawfoot tub and the walk-in closet, Killian had chosen every feature with Emma’s happiness in mind. Things in their life were already hectic, and when they had kids it would be the same, just in new and differing ways. He felt strongly that Emma and he should have this, a private little oasis where they ended and started each day together.

To say that Emma agreed would be an understatement, and she showed him that immediately, by pulling him into bed and ‘christening’ the room in a way that drew them both to bliss. All in all, it was a perfect first night together, and a miraculous stretch of time where both of them could put down their worries about of the state of their small world. They ate, they bathed, they made love more than once, and they cemented their mating bond over and over again. The monsters in their lives were pushed to a far away distance, and somehow they both managed to sleep after everything they’d gone through. Nine full hours of rest were attained, and both of them slept with only peaceful dreams, but alas, the real world could only wait for so long, and sure enough it came tumbling back in again. When it did Killian woke right away, hearing the chirping of his phone before it woke Emma and walking into the room beside theirs, which happened to be their nursery before answering the call.

“You found something?” He said, not even greeting Ruby’s call with a hello or a good morning.

“We did. Graham managed to get surveillance tape of George’s SUV. He changed the plates but there’s a recognizable scratch along the front. Definitely bear claws. Graham ran it through the national database and got a hit at the border.”

“So he’s in Canada now?”

“Yeah, but we lost the trail there. Graham’s police contacts seem to not be as international as we might need them to be.”

“So we’ve got nothing then?”

“Not so fast, Lance of all people got a message from a mountain lion clan about six hours from here. There’s something happening up there, something weird.”

“What do you mean by something?”

“Animals are acting strangely, unaccounted for tracks, and there’s a smell, or rather a stench as they put it.”

“More sick shifters?”

“Only one way for us to find out, but it sounds like it. Good news is David and Neal made good progress with a cure, and in the meantime, they found a sedative that works. Anna’s bear let them test it on him and he was out damn near all night. They’re prepping more now.”

Killian heard the sound of Emma waking up, the sheets on their now messy bed rustling as she moved and he sighed, knowing that yet again he was facing real danger and an enemy that didn’t want him and Emma to have this peace. The only consolation was that a lead could get them past this. If they could find these shifters, then maybe they could find George and really get rid of him. That was the ultimate priority as the man was seemingly decided against letting Emma be.

“Do we know anything about the area?”

“We don’t, but David seems to. He says it was a long time ago, but when he was a kid he went with George past the border. They stayed with another family of hunters who lived not too far from this clan. David had heard that family were all gone now, some sort of hunter feud gone bad, but land records show there’s a massive estate out there. No listed residents but taxes on it get paid every year so no one’s messed with it.”

“George is probably there,” Emma said, putting into words Killian’s own assumptions as she curled into his side, and he nodded to her as he promised Ruby that they’d be there in thirty minutes. When he’d hung up the call. He looked to Emma, hating what he had to say next.

“We’re going to need to send a tracking team love, and there’s a reason Ruby called me. Of all of us, it’s likely me, Liam, and your father who are most needed out there. If this place is really as rural as Ruby made it seem, we’re the only ones trained for this kind of thing.”

“Well good, you should go then,” Emma said, moving to get dressed. “But I’m going with you.”

“Emma, you don’t have to do this,” he replied. “Yesterday was a lot for you and the baby and -,”

“Oh no you don’t. There is no way in hell I am sitting on the sidelines. This is my fight too, and besides, we both know that even if you’ll worry about me with you, it’s nothing compared to what you’ll feel if we’re apart.”

How could he argue with her when she was exactly right? He would feel better knowing she was with him, danger or not. After yesterday, there was just no comparison. Fighting side by side would now always be his preference and Emma knew that and made no complaints.

Soon enough they were ready and reunited with the others, and it became abundantly clear that more people wanted to go than could easily be brought. Killian and Liam were a given, as was David for obvious reasons. He was the only hunter among them, he had a baseline awareness of the area, and he had the most resentment against George of any of them. Ruth couldn’t bear to go, and it didn’t make sense for most of the others, but finally it was settled that Emma and Anna would round out the team. On this they had only mild pushback, all of it from Elsa.

“If you’re going, I’m going,” she said, not to Liam but to Anna. His brother’s mate seemed to trust in Liam’s ability and obviously didn’t desire to be away from him, but her fiercest protective instincts only came out for her sister and for Emma. Since Emma had Killian to watch over her, Elsa was appeased on that score, but Anna was more precariously placed, and also guided by emotion that could end up being her downfall.

“No, Elsa, you have to stay here. Ruby needs you to help with tracing Gold, she can’t do it alone, and I need you to stay with him,” Anna said, motioning towards the bear who remained trapped in the crystal enclosure.

The bear had been paying attention this whole discussion, and he roared out an aggressive sound. Clearly it didn’t like the idea of Anna leaving, and Killian couldn’t blame him. But there was very little choice, especially when Anna wanted to get some kind of vengeance for him. Before he could get too worked up, Anna slipped back into the crystal enclosure. While no one outwardly gasped this time, it was still alarming, and Emma squeezed his hand tight as she watched her friend.

“I know you hate this idea,” Anna said, pressing her hand to the bears face lovingly. “I’m not a huge fan either, but I know it’s the right thing. My instincts are going haywire, telling me it has to be like this. I’ll never know peace until I know he can never hurt us – hurt you again.”

The bear growled, but the sound was aimed at George and not Anna. Surprisingly the bear then reached its claw out to grab Anna and pull her close in what was quite literally a bear hug. Anna let out a sound between a laugh and a cry, but she relaxed into the embrace for a moment. Finally she pulled back, pressing a quick peck to the bear’s cheek before promising to come back. When she was through the crystal enclosure again, she looked to Elsa, and the tears in her eyes did nothing to deter her conviction.

“I can’t leave him with just anyone, Els. Leaving at all is hard enough, but I have to. This man hurt him, tortured him, and it makes me crazy. I have to help bring him down, but I can’t if you won’t stay here and protect him for me.”

Elsa stood there quietly for a moment, her hands balling and releasing unsteady fists as a range of emotions crossed her face. She clearly hated this idea, and her eyes flicked between Anna and Emma, before ultimately landing on Liam. Killian watched as his brother whispered an assurance in his mate’s ear and then kissed her surely, and when they pulled back Elsa’s fear was somewhat eased but by no means erased. Still, she chose brave acceptance over continued argument.

“You have to promise me you will stay with Liam or Emma at all times,” Elsa said to Anna, emotion caught in her throat as she spared another glance at her mate and Emma to confirm. “Seriously, you all three better come home to me or there will be hell to pay.”

“Everyone is coming home, and that is an order,” Mary Margaret said, her stares intent on David and Emma, though she clearly cared for all of them.

It was almost humorous to see the fierceness of a mother and a wife so closely mirroring Elsa’s fear as a friend and sister. If one didn’t know better, she and Mary Margaret would seem like family, but then again they were. Truth be told, every person here were all of them connected together, whether through blood, love, or unbreakable bond and that was all exceptionally clear as goodbyes were said, and ‘see you soons’ were exchanged.

“There’s no use worrying now about how this is gonna go,” David said a few minutes later as they got into the car and he drove the clinic’s SUV out of town and due north.

“Oh no?” Anna asked, her eyes watching the landscape like at any moment she’d see her mate running through this grove of woods.

“When my wife gives an order, she gets her way. If she says we’re coming home, we’re coming home.”

The joke achieved its objective, lightening the mood and bringing a small smile to everyone’s face. And though there were no real guarantees, and the future was still unsure, Killian chose to believe that Emma’s father was right. For after all of this, they simply had to survive, and when they did it would be on to happy endings, and the days of warring villains would be past them once and for all.

………………………..

Idiot! Fool! Complete and total failure!

The snarling voice inside his mind gave life to all of Gold’s own feelings about the sham of a hunter who had driven him astray.

What a farce this had been, and infuriatingly, what a harrowing misstep they both had made. All of this magic and time, wasted. He was low on his stores, having depleted too much of his saved up power not just in the past few days but over a series of years, and the thought was repulsive to Gold. After decades of harvesting every last bit of magic he could from creatures and beasts all over this world, here he was, weak and vulnerable. That wouldn’t last too long. A few months in one of his many hideaways and he’d revive himself to a more stable position. He had plenty of treasures back home designed to help him do just that. But still, what an embarrassment, and it was all because George Nolan was too blinded by purpose to prepare for all outcomes.

Of all the things to be undone by, a mated bond was one Gold never anticipated. Surely a seasoned hunter wouldn’t be so stupid, so pitiably dumb as to miss a possible match set by a natural magic far stronger than any Gold could conjure. But then that was the problem with these humans. All of them were so guided by their own crusades and devoted to overblown ego. Still, hunters were supposed to be of at least some use. They knew of magic in this world, they were privy to more than the average so and so. Yet in this situation it clearly meant nothing and now years of planning were gone, faster than he could flick his wrist and cast a spell.

Walking through the doors of this dilapidated shack that humans called a home, Gold bit back his sneer. Or maybe he didn’t. Why guard himself now? The cat was already out of the bag, so to speak, and now it was time to clean up. He had made a mess, or at least had allowed a mess to happen, and now it was time to make things right and protect himself before this belligerent waste of space made even more trouble.

“You played me!” George said, appearing from the back of the room that was obscured with shadow with a cross bow drawn and aimed Gold’s way. “You reneged on our deal! You told me you’d give me a weapon to kill them, and look what you did instead!”

“What I did?” Gold bit out, the words filled with venom and yet sterilized from most of the hate and rage flowing in his veins. He stepped closer to George, never flinching even when the hunter raised his bow to aim at his heart. “You were the one who made the choice. Who caught the beast in question? Was it me? Oh no, it was you. I offered one after another after another. I made it as easy as I possibly could for you to have all that you wanted. I gave you access to every shifter I could find, I ravaged half a dozen packs and chose the strongest of each clan, but none of them suited you. No wolf would do. No lion would suffice. I searched high and low, but it had to be a grizzly, and for what?”

“You know as well as I do that the infusions work best with a larger beast -,”

“Ha! You and your little ‘infusions.’ It was my magic that made anything possible. Without me you couldn’t stabilize that sickness to save your life. You would have had nothing, nothing!”

“Would have had? I have nothing now! Not only did the bear not fulfill the objective, they captured it.”

“You really can’t even grasp your own stupidity can you?” Gold asked. If he were capable of pity he would have felt it in this moment, watching as George looked confused in the face of his words. “They didn’t capture the beast. The bear has a fated mate and she is a witch. A friend of your great-niece.”

“That’s not possible. I designed the virus to override that instinct.”

At this Gold let out a sharp cackle, a maniacal sound that echoed through the aging wood of this long forgotten cabin. He hadn’t laughed like this in a long time and it really was funny, even if it was also a fucking farce.

“Override the instinct? You really are as dumb as any human off the street.” George’s anger got the better of him and he shot the arrow at Gold, but Gold was faster, waving his hand and halting the motion of the weapon as it clattered to the ground. “There is nothing in the world stronger than a fated mate. True love, soul mates, they exist in all the fairy tales for a reason. As long as there has been magic in the world, love has had power.”

“Well you should have told me! How was I to know?”

“See that’s the problem with you – you think that in this deal it’s I who serves your purpose. And I’m here to assure you of how wrong you are,” Gold said lifting the arrow with his powers back from the ground and turning it back to face at George. “The only reason I let you have your little sickness was to suit my needs. I want those witches and the hybrid. You promised me them in exchange for your weapon.”

“Maybe if you had told me why you want them so bad we could have avoided this.”

Gold ignored the barb, but his own sense of foreboding crept in again. He suppressed it, refusing to allow a dying witch’s last words to haunt him any longer. He was taking control of the situation, stifling any threat, or at least he was trying to.

“But it’s too late now.”

“Too late?” Gold said with a barked out laugh. “We’ve a half a dozen more shifters roaming around these mountains, waiting to be sent to track and kill, and none of them with mates to find in that wretched pack.”

“Doesn’t matter. David knows what he’s up against now, and he may be a disgrace, but I also trained him. He’ll have found a way to fend them off by now, he and those abominations he carries on with.”

“You really believe he has that ability?”

“I do,” George admitted, angrily.

“So what? It’s just over then? You’re giving up and reneging on your deal?”

“The way I see it the deal is moot – you failed to provide -,”

“I gave you everything I promised!” Gold screamed out, and the sound of it boomed around them, echoing in a thunder clap above them. The wind had picked up inside the cabin, the air crackled with energy, and yet when he calmed, that aching sense of exhausting kicked back in. he was weak right now, and he couldn’t afford this fight. But that didn’t mean he planned to lose. Far from it. “And now you’ll see just how strong a weapon that it was.”

With a flick of his wrist, the arrow fell down to the ground again, and George let out a sigh of relief, but then the howl of animals in the night emanated from a few miles away, sending an eerie chill even through Gold’s body. Oh he was at no risk, to be sure. His magic had a failsafe – no creature in his hold could turn on him, but any block against their attacking George was now gone. After all, a deal was a deal, and if a man couldn’t meet terms… well, that was hardly his problem.

“What did you do, Gold?” George asked, but Gold just smiled, giving an exaggerated wave goodbye, laughing again as he turned for the door. “Gold?! Gold!”

The sound of desperate calling was music to his ears as he walked away into the woods, heading to somewhere no one could find him without paying a hefty price. And though it might take some time, Gold reveled in the thought that by this time next year his latest trophies would be found. The witches and the hybrid would be his, fate would be rewritten, and he would remain the most powerful creature of them all.

Post-Note: Okay so yeah, this was wild even for me, BUT I needed you guys to see a little more of how things have gone awry and to know more than Emma and the others do. When I hinted a few weeks back about a spin-off of this series, I always had tracking Gold in mind, and though the story will feature CS, it will more centrally revolve around some of our other characters. Rest assured though, Gold is now out of the picture in this story, but George and the six sick shifters are still very much an issue. We’ll get to the climactic conclusion of that next time, and in the meantime I hope you guys enjoyed, I thank you so much for reading, and I hope you’ll keep enjoying this journey with me as we hit our last two chapters (and maybe a bonus epilogue or two)!

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thepilgrimofwar · 4 years

Text

Deathseeker

When her boots touched the black sand of the desert beyond the City of Memory, Elleynah lifted her thumb, opened the jagged scab, and let the blood fall. The needle formed from the sands pointed, and off they went towards their destination. A way out. A way home.

Now and again, she glanced at her defender, the dead and yet whole Sederis. Her eyes skimmed his features, the warmth in his face at the adventure they were undertaking, the freedom from consequence he enjoyed in this place. Whenever she felt herself stare too long she dragged her eyes back to the sand, suppressing the things that felt and twisted in her belly.

He noticed her gaze upon him and pretended not to see. Not wanting to bring up any uncomfortable memories of his untimely death. He wondered how many mourned him. His friends, obviously. His family, probably. But his people? The citizens of the Emberglades that he had died for? The Lords of the Houses who despised him? What of the councilmen he imprisoned? But he dispelled the thoughts- Though they did not hurt him in his state, they were no more than just time wasted on doubts. Time was better spent in the present. Especially in this place.

The sands went on and on. Now and again she would check their progress with spilled blood, and alter their course accordingly. Eventually, though, she felt the weight of living.

Slowing her steps, she huffed. “I have to stop.” Elleynah glanced at him side long. “I know you could keep going until the stars burned out, but unfortunately I’m still… alive here, and that means I get tired.” Her tone was almost defensive, as though she expected chastening. “Can we make a short camp?”

“I… Forgot about that.” He said sheepishly as Elleynah admitted her limitations. As sheepish as a dead man could sound. “Of course we could make camp. I could probably help with that as well.”

He upturned Zin’jang, stabbing in deep into the sands beneath him and from its hilt sprouted leaves of blackness, draping downwards. Like sheets of a pavilion. They were not perfect, nor did they serve much purposes in a windless wasteland in these dunes. But they would trap heat from any fire- and most importantly, would feel like shelter.

She watched him use the magic of death as easily as wielding his spear, and Elleynah looked away, worrying her lower lip with her teeth until she tasted copper. Ignoring herself, she rubbed her lip, smudging the red, turned her attention to her pack, thumbing through her deck idly. In death, the mundane was often turned complex and inscrutable-- the difficult however, became commonplace. Under the leaves of the summoned pavilion, she laid out a small bag. When she opened it, the scent of ash and dry wood and lightning storms emerged; and with a quick dribble of blood, fire bloomed from it in a small but warm makeshift hearth.

Elleynah breathed in the smell, but it did little to relax the tenseness of her shoulders. “It’s absolutely insane how much power living blood has here. It’s little wonder all those dark campfire tales involve creatures seeking living flesh and blood. Just a drop of it and…” She motioned to the flame, and the sand, and the darkness beyond.

Sederis nodded. “It is plied by those of intelligence here, like currency. I suppose it is why Lady Death had me spill and have had me spill so much of it in her name. It turned a simple idea- an ideological seed- into a God- and all her realm.” Sederis joined her by the fire, snapping away the armor pieces that made his silhouette. Was this how he acted in times of rest? He had been relentless in his hunt until now. It felt good, he supposed, just to stop.

“I theorise that is the reason why I walk here with such powers. There is a blood price hanging above my head, paid for in the thousands. Every life taken, every death given in offering, every life that was ended in my name. Just as I had in life- in my own way- I now carry them all within me in death. Their memories and names etched into my mind’s eye.” He gave a thoughtful look and considered the rules of this realm. “If I have a mind- I’m not entirely sure if I do in this place. I’m not even sure how much of me I’m made of- Or if I’m actually mostly made of everyone else.” The Deathseeker implied, and made sense in the same way riddles did.

Elleynah frowned, raising a hand to the flame. “I was told too that it’s catalyst, in a world that hungers. Blood can be so many different things; inside you its vital, outside its grisly. Blue blood, noble blood, innocent blood. It’s all the same, to a mender. Magic seems to operate outside of theoretical similarities.” She let the light burn through her flesh, rendering her hand red to her eyes. “Every culture I know assigns some value to it. So, little wonder in death it’s a precious as gold is above, or more so.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest, looking into the fire. “You aren’t the same, Sederis. I don’t know if it’s your Lady or the world here or the blood and souls you carry but you’re different.” Her voice goes small. “Everything here is alike-but-not-the-same as things above. It’s maddening and terrifying. I was so sure if I called upon the Hanged Man he would have your face and now I wonder what he’s doing, bereft so of one to Patron.” She snorts. “He will find another, but… to me, it should have always been you. And now it’s not. And you’re not. You’re dead. Lirelle is dead, but she’s not even here she’s up there and I’m down here.” The words tumble from her in a deluge of exhaustion, and only now in the relative safety of the pavilion can he see the desperation in her. “Death means change, I’ve always known that, but I hate what it’s done. I hate it so much I could rip the card apart even knowing who he Patrons and what it might mean because I am so angry.”

She has been hunted for months, unable to trust in any familiar thing. The weight on her shoulders has taxed even her steel-spined resolve, and Elleynah the Oracle is closer now to Little Leyna than she has been in decades; the wide eyed, fractured girl child who only ever meant to fix the broken things around her.

Sederis kneeled opposite her as she pulled her knees to her chest, and after a moment of deliberation, he wrapped Elleynah in his arms. Pressing the nape of her neck to his shoulder, he encouraged her to cry, if she needed to.

He was cold to the touch, barely material, but the warmth of the embrace remained. He didn’t know if he had the right words for his friend, but knew it in his being that it was the right thing to do.

“You’re right. I am not the same. At the end of everything, I knew, at last, what it all had meant. The meaning of sacrifice. To be reborn. To see death in a whole new light. That my life of war, had been a search for my own peace,” he spoke softly, letting the words hum through his shadowed form. “ In death I grew past what he was, and he can’t be my patron when I no longer need him.”

Death, in a way, had made him whole and he spoke of his patron as if he were a guardian angel. Keeping him from straying but the one path he was always meant to take.

“Change is… Inevitable. Nothing remains the same. Not even in death. But if there’s one thing to tell you, one thing I’ve learned after all the time I’ve spent in this place, is this:

Whenever you despair about those golden days in the sun, lost to time- stolen by death- as I once did. Do it well. Mourn their passing. Honor it with all your heart. But be glad for them too. Be glad that they happened. Be glad that they gave you memories that are worthy of weeping over. Then when the tears are done, hold them close to your heart where the march of time cannot touch them.”

Perhaps this was the secret of his form. Why he hadn’t too become a blood hungering beast of the shadowlands. Perhaps it was because he cherished the life he lived. All the pain. All the joy. He cherished it all so much till madness and death held no hold over any of it.

Anger like she had never known gripped her; caught her in coils of heat so intense it felt like flame, and whether she knew it or not they whipped off of her like solar flares, visible in the sands of death because of their vitality. He wrapped her in his arms and she gripped him, tight enough her nails broke, tight enough he would have bled if he had yet lived.

She remembered--

Tossing cards off the edge of a floating city, and how she had thought that moment would be the beginning of forever and the end of her history and how she had failed everyone. Everyone. Dying was supposed to be an escape from this weight but she found it was even harder to bear when faced with the plain, unglossed consequence of her failure to be good enough.

She grit her teeth to keep the primal scream in her throat, and she swallowed it down with her tears and her admissions and everything she had held inside for years. Years she had born these sorrows and years she had carried the guilt and she never allowed herself to mourn because--

“I can’t let go of what was never really--” It escapes and she lifts a hand to her mouth, pressing her knuckles into her lips as she swallows her own blood from bitten lips.

It hurt him. Not in the way that claws and teeth did as they tore into his new form. But deeper, sharper. In ways that were beyond what mere damage could do. But he held her, tighter still, receiving her fury and taking it away to the places beyond it.

“Hold them to your heart too. All of them. Things undone, things unsaid. Things that never could be. Though it makes reality harder to bear, there is merit to fantasies- Of what could have been- Of doing things left undone- it is what keeps us going. They inform us of what things could still be,” Sederis speaks from the depths within himself. His own failures rising to the surface. Things unsaid. People unsaved. Frozen bodies of refugees in Light’s Hope. Lazing on a sunny afternoon upon a couch in their Dalaran apartment. “Hold them to your heart. And when the fires die and the tears are spent- Use them to build a better future.”

Like he had. In the form of a manor, and a beach that waited for Lirelle across the gap.

Everything felt too close. He was Sederis and he wasn’t and she was Elleynah and she wasn’t really, was she? Not anymore, not the way she had been. Things changed by time and trauma; double time, double duty she had sworn back on a ship and it had put muscle on her and years around the lines by her mouth. Elleynah was a girl swearing an oath-- Elleynah was a novice mender bearing too much weight on freckled shoulders-- Elleynah was a sister who faltered and a friend who failed and a lover who had been too scared to love until it was almost too late.

She sucked in a breath and the tears that spilled on her were hot with anger and disappointment and frustration. Her arms wrapped around herself, through Sederis because in this land of ash and smoke and memory, she was alive and real and he was made up of nothing but what-ifs and promises fulfilled. She had never ever once been enough and--

Her fingers brushed the leather pack where her cards lie, and something ripped through her in a current. Gasping aloud, she sat up straight, fingers scrambling for purchase on the leather.

“My-- my deck--” She hissed through clenched teeth. “Somethings--” Her hand seemed to struggle against the effort of opening the pouch. Gritting her teeth she finally forced it open, and like a cloud of locusts, the cards erupted around them in a flury of painted paper and magic. Threads of blood seemed to connect them in a web, pulsing around the pair and overcoming the pavilion in a flood.

Elleynah’s frame stiffened in his arms-- she looked at the cards, and they had all changed to share a single form, a single card thronging them where it should have been the whole of the deck.

A heart, with three blades piercing it, a storm brewing under it, blood seeping from the metal into a pool of black. The Three of Swords.

In words like buzzing, it spoke.

You have called on the useful, the necessary, but not the needed little Oracle. The cards swirled around them, and Elleynah remembered. She had bitten her lip, and it had bled, and she had reached for the deck and--

Unsummoned, the Three of Swords pulsed.

You would call on Illusion and you would call upon Will, but not on Truths? You have Spoken for us, but always inside you nurse the Hope that we may be undone. The Devil. The Tower. The Swords. You use us but do not listen; will not ask for the fate for yourself for fear of incurring the Blood Debt. You will Listen now and Feel all that you have Denied.

Elleynah grabbed for Sederis’ hand, her other crept over the sand, towards the fire he had made, surreptitious.

“At my signal, run.”

Image: Sandar Desert by Karen Haller

@retributionpriest @stormandozone @thanidiel

#Epilogue #Deathseeker #Sederis

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fredsweaslies · 4 years

Text

the gardens that grow between us | chapter six

● word count: 1707

● new fic index

AS THE PAIR OF GIRLS BEGAN TO GET COMFORTABLE WITH THEIR NEW LIFE AT SCHOOL, the first Hogsmeade weekend quickly approached. Just before the term started, Paloma and Dolores could barely contain their excitement when their parents signed the permission slips to allow the girls to leave school grounds. That morning, the girls couldn't wait to wear something other than their robes and busted out their best casual attire. They headed out with Draco, shivering at the sight of the dementors that stood guard in front of the castle.

"Where do you want to go first?" Dolores asked Draco, "I am not going around Hogsmede with you two." He said disgustingly.

"Scared we'll embarrass you, Malfoy?" Paloma said in a British accent, mocking him.

"I would rather be skinned alive than find out what you two find fun in Hogsmede." He scoffed, the two girls putting on a fake expression of shock.

"That is no way to talk to your future wife!" Dolores joked, gasping and clutching her heart.

When they entered the crowded village, they couldn't keep their eyes off of the cute novelty shops that never seemed to end. In this, Draco disappeared. The girls decided to start their trip off with an ice cream shop near the entrance of the village.

As they stood in line at the kitsch ice cream parlor, they bantered about all the different flavors on the menu.

"Do you think it's any different from ice cream in America?" Dolores asked, their eyes still glued at the menu. "For these prices, I sure hope so." The two giggled. Just then, the boy in front of them turned around. It was Oliver Wood. Paloma straightened up.

"I thought I recognized that voice." He cooed, flashing Paloma a smile.

"Hey, Oliver." As confident as Paloma was in every other aspect of her life when it came to boys she became as shy as any other girl.

"I recommend the strawberry and peanut flavor, it's what I always get." He recommended kindly. Paloma couldn't stop herself from meeting his gaze.

"Sounds great." She said meekly. As he placed his order, Dolores quietly teased Paloma by fluttering her eyelashes and mouthing "Oh Oliver!"

When he reached the register, he told the cashier that he would be paying for Paloma and Dolores' orders as well.

"Oh - Oliver you don't have to." Paloma intercepted, but he was already handing over his coins to the cashier.

"No, I insist." He said confidently, "Thanks, Oliver." Dolores commented sweetly, "I like him." She mouthed.

"Hey - Paloma..." Oliver called, who was now in the middle of the shop, stopping as he was about to leave. Paloma started attentively.

"I was wondering, if you're not busy next weekend, would you like to go on a date?"

Paloma swore she was going to faint.

"Of - of course. Yes, I would love to." She nodded eagerly and clutched her ice cream cup tightly.

"Perfect, I'll see you then." He smiled before heading out the door and meeting his friends that were waiting outside the shop.

"No fucking way." Dolores exclaimed. Paloma sighed and couldn't stop smiling.

The two sat down at the table that was right in front of the shop window.

"I can't believe that you already have a date with one of the hottest guys at Hogwarts," Dolores said amazedly, "A guy can't even look my way in the halls."

"Are you kidding? What's that red-heads name again? The one who's friends with Hermione?" Paloma pondered, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"Ron? What about him?" Dolores started to turn pink.

"Oh, you know what, he's totally in puppy-love with you."

"I haven't even spoken a word to him."

"Yeah, but guys are dumb, that won't stop them from having a crush on you. I see the way he stares at you," Paloma continued, "The other day when we were at breakfast and when we walked past their table he spilled his pumpkin juice all over his sweater when he saw you."

"You're crazy."

"Hey, just some food for thought. Not my fault you're oblivious," with ice cream still in her mouth, she added "don't you think he's cute?"

Dolores stayed quiet, "I knew it." Paloma laughed.

"I'm too nervous to talk to him, and from the looks of it he is too."

"Aren't you study buddies with Hermione now? Just ask her to set you guys up."

"No, she's not like that. I'm better off starting things off organically."

"Up to you," Paloma continued, "does he have any brothers?"

"Yeah, Hermione mentioned that he has these twin brothers on the Quidditch team, and I think another one who's a prefect for Gryffindor, why?"

"While at practice the other day there were these cute red-head twins on Gryffindor, I just figured."

"No way, you're trying to get with the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team." Dolores laughed.

"Hey, we just got here, a girl can't have options?" The two snickered and finished their ice cream. When they opened the door of the parlor to leave, Paloma bumped harshly into Pansy Perkins.

"Watch it." Pansy taunted. Behind her were two Slytherin girls who towered over Paloma and Dolores.

"What is your deal?" Dolores demanded, crossing her arms, "Jealous because of Draco?"

This sent Pansy to grow bright red from anger, "You better pipe down, Lola." The two Slytherin girls behind her laughed at her remark.

"Move." Paloma demanded. Pansy and her cronies were blocking the girls from leaving.

"Make me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Paloma sniggered, pulling out her wand and throwing it up against Pansy's throat. Pansy retreated into the arms of her friends behind her.

"Excuse me!" Interrupted a voice, Professor McGonagall marched up to the group of girls.

"Detention, Miss Martinez," Paloma's face turned pink as Pansy and her friends giggled quietly behind McGonagall. "Off to the castle, all of you." She ordered, all the girls groaned and were sent on the walk of shame back to Hogwarts.

★

Even with the excitement during their first Halloween feast, that was no match to Paloma's disappointment in herself over her first detention. She stopped every step of the way that night after leaving her things in their room. She was sent to the great hall and dreaded finding out what she would have to do as a punishment.

When she entered the hall, only one person was sitting at a table in the empty space. One of the red-headed twins from Gryffindor. His head whipped up at her, his stunned expression greeting her. She smiled shyly and sat across from him at what would be the Gryffindor table.

"Hi." She greeted.

"Hello." He was still shocked to see her. Before Paloma could say anything else, she heard incoming footsteps.

"You two," Sprang Professor McGonagall, who was dressed in what seemed to be a black nightgown, "Your task tonight is to clean the silverware from today's meals, without magic." They both groaned as she waved her wand and sent the silverware from a nearby table to the table they were sat at.

"I will be back in an hour." She alerted. She quietly walked away and shut the huge wooden doors behind her.

The red-headed boy let out a sigh and began to pick up the silverware and scrubber.

"So, I take you're Paloma?" He said, she was shocked he knew her name.

"Yeah, how do you know?" She asked.

"You American students are all anyone has been talking about." He laughed, scrubbing a spoon, "I'm Fred." Paloma nodded.

"You have a twin? Or am I going insane?" This made him chuckle, "Yeah, that's George." Paloma nodded again and started to focus on wiping the cups with a damp towel.

"What brings you here?" He asked.

"Put a wand up to Pansy Parkinson's throat." Fred roared with laughter and slammed his palm down on the table, causing the silverware to rattle. "What about you?" She asked.

"Put firecrackers in the Ravenclaw toilets, a poor first year is officially scarred for life." The two tried to stifle laughs from the horrible prank, "You know, you're not as cruel and demeaning as others in your house."

"So I've heard." She giggled, passing a fork to him to scrub.

"I hear you've gotten mighty cozy to Wood." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh god." She laughed.

"How do I know you're not just interested in him so you can gain all our secrets?" Fred prodded.

"Don't worry, I'll still go hard on him during our matches." She shot a smile up at Fred who was staring attentively up at her.

The two spent the hour laughing and giggling as Fred recounted his many pranks with George, and Paloma told him all about the embarrassing things she had caught Draco doing during their youth. Whenever there was a lull in the conversation from their focus on scrubbing and polishing the utensils, Paloma would look up and Fred and catch him staring at her. He would immediately shoot his eyes down to the cup he was cleaning to avoid being noticed. But Paloma surely took notice and simpered to herself while she wiped down the silverware. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall burst through the doors.

"Weasley, Martinez." She called, sounding slightly frantic. The two students looked up at her concerned, "There's been an incident up in the Gryffindor common room. You two can stop for now, we're sending students to sleep in here tonight."

Paloma got chills as she stood up from the table, standing arm to arm with Fred who towered over her.

"What do you think happened?" Paloma asked innocently, watching students from all four houses pile into the great hall. Everyone was still in their nightgowns and pajamas. Fred shrugged. As the Slytherins made their way in, Dolores hurried over to Paloma.

"Sirius Black tore up the painting in front of Gryffindor's common room!" Dolores exclaimed, panicked. "What?" Paloma and Fred said at the same time.

"I'll catch you later, Paloma." Fred said, rushing over to his brothers George and Ron as soon as they made it inside.

The two girls found Draco, who was chuckling to himself over the frenzy that was happening in the great hall.

◀︎ chapter five ☆ chapter seven ▶︎

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood x oc #draco malfoy x oc #fred weasley x oc #ron weasley x oc #draco malfoy fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #*myfics

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razorblade180 · 5 years

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OC test:Memory lane

Each person is placed in a room with two locks on it. One will be opened by sharing a precious memory, while the other gets unlocked by a sad one. No tricks or gimmicks to get out.

Yujin:Well this is an interesting test; making people open up just to get through a door. I might as well start with the hard part then. When I was nine I ended up getting a fight at school on my birthday. Me being basically motherless was no secret to anyone and always made things awkward. A presentation on the huntsman of our choice was due that day so naturally I chose my dad; it was a no brainer. Most kids chose their parents or a legendary huntsman from our history books. So when one of my classmates did his entire project Yang it caught me off guard.

Yujin:For what had to have been only ten minutes, I sat and listened to him do nothing but praise her; going into detail about how she’s one of the best. Telling the entire class that she’ll be there to help no matter what. Without warning I stood up and started yelling at him; telling him how wrong he was. “She can’t be around to help her own kid! How could anyone consider her the best?” What really made me lose it was his response. “Maybe she has more important things to do?” Looking back, I don’t remember those words holding any malice. That didn’t stop me from breaking his nose right then and there. *tensing up*

Yujin:When I say dad was mad, he was furious. We must’ve yelled back and forth for hours when we got home. To the point my voice started to give out a little; whinnying about how he could still possibly love a woman like her. Trying to convince him that she would never come back to us, to him. It must’ve worked for a second because the shouting stopped. My bratty self thought I’d finally won the argument; all I did was make him cry. The man that has done so much to fill the void; the one I dedicated an entire presentation to. Was crying because I tried smothering what little hope he must’ve had left. *sniffling* I hugged him tight without a second thought and sobbed as I apologized. That was the day everything sort of changed for me; the day I realized I hated mom.

*one lock snaps off*

Yujin:*shaking her head* Okay, time for the happy stuff! I don’t even have to think hard about this one! There’s a convention that happens every year that always has amazing things for aspiring huntsman and awesome guests on panels. When I was 11 I was super excited that I finally got a chance to go and it just so happened that year my absolute favorite up and coming huntress was attending! Her name is Lilith and she’s just, everything. People compare her to Pyrrha Nikos since she’s such a prodigy and winner of multiple regional tournaments. I’m like two years younger than her and just admire her personality. If I had to pick a role model around my age it’s definitely her.

Yujin:Anyways, I unfortunately caught the flu the day of the convention and had to miss it. The entire time I was in bed snotty and crying over it until Tenzen sent me a video. That joker never once mentioned to me that he got invited to the convention because of his rising internet fame, so when I saw that he sent me a video with Lilith wishing me a speedy recovery I actually almost died. Not only that, he got her to sign some merchandise for me with personal messages. That alone was enough for me but afterwards he came over and told me he recently unlocked his semblance. Tenzen managed to convince my dad to let me out the house that night and I got to experience just how fast he could run at the time; felt almost like a roller coaster. I swear that boy never ceases to amaze me. *blushing* To this day he’s always looking for me and trying to get me to smile.

*second lock snaps off and she walks through slowly.*

Tenzen:Bad memory? Well I can’t pick a specific event but I can easily choose a time period; the first four years following the attack on my parents. My mom bounced back physically from it in almost no time at all but my father.... his damage was all but completely crippling. A lot of broken bones, bruised organs, and broken back. He couldn’t do work anything to the fullest anymore so he just....shut down. There were days I didn’t even see him because didn’t get out of bed. Worst part of it all was I could tell how bad he wanted to not feel the way he did but couldn’t. It tore my mom apart to feel so useless and it’s pretty rough for me to see both of them just exhausted; maybe that’s why I try staying positive and hopeful. Trying to make up for years five to nine. Thankfully things got better which I guess brings me to my happy memory.

Tenzen:One day there was a dancing contest in Vale with a cash prize. Thought I’d help pay for some medical bills so I got to practicing in secret. I came in first place surprisingly and immediately rushed back home to surprise them. I didn’t expect him to ask me to perform it so I was a bit taken back at first. *chuckles* both of their jaws dropped when they saw me do their dance routine from their time at Beacon. The rest of the day was just filled with different music and cheers as I treated them to a live concert basically. After that things just slowly started changing; I got more serious with dancing and also started training. Who would’ve thought an old dance routine was the answer to making my dad feel like himself again.

*both locks snap off easily and he walks through happily*

Jacquelyn:Oooo so I have to tell a story to get out? No problem, a lot about me has been shared already but there’s definitely some good highlights that haven’t been really explored. *blushing* This is gonna sound really cheesy but I think one of my best memories is Adam saying he loved me. It was a couple years after Salem had been beaten. During that time I still had wavering beliefs if he’d actually stick with being reformed; there certainly was time where it almost felt progress was about to slip away. However, after a certain incident happened and the arrival of Jael all that anxiety melted away. I can still remember his smile when he held her close and told me. After that I knew he’d be okay; that we will be okay. Bad memories are easy. Becoming a maiden and the destruction of my home.

*door opens and she calmly walks through without a second thought*

Sienna:Getting adopted is by far the happiest memory I have. I finally felt safe in Jacquelyn and Adam’s arms after where they found me. *ears fold down* the time I spent before that was very.......

Her face goes cold as her mouth dries out. She just slowly starts nodding and thinking; almost like she’s entered a trance.

Sienna:Painful, it was very painful both physically and mentally. C...can I go now please?

*the locks pop off and she exits the room; still a bit shaken up.*

Jael:Happiest memory is perfecting my version of the moon slice. Dad wouldn’t teach me so mom taught me in secret. Not really the most touching thing I suppose but it just makes me feel closer to him somehow. Even though he still doesn’t know. I have my fair share of bad memories too though. If I had to pick one... it would be the day I realized just how bad my heart condition really was. I always thought the major drawback was hindering my physical performance in anything I do; I was wrong. There’s this girl back where I live that I’ve known about two years now. She’s the only person who’s not afraid to speak to me that’s my age. Actually, she’s one of the only people that speak to me at all. We’ve gotten close, really close...*blushing*. It’s pretty obvious that I like her but it’s not healthy for me to be around her too long. My heart literally can’t take it; I tried kissing her once and almost ended up unconscious on the floor. Pure emotions aren’t a luxury I can’t afford to have. If I truly try to live in the moment, it might just be my last. This life I live is....hardly living at all.

*The doo unlocks but she doesn’t leave. Instead she leans against it, taking a moment to think*

Nick:Winning my first competition with Summer was a pretty great time. It was sort of like our debut to all of Atlas; showing them the Schnee’s are as strong as ever. I don’t ever think I’ve seen mom so proud of the two of us. Visiting Summer in the hospital after lake incident is the worst of my memories. I was...scared one of those visits were going to end horribly. I still don’t like hospitals.

*door swings open as he rushes out*

Summer:Nicholas would think I’m insane but his hospital visits are some of my most cherished memories. We always argued as kids but those visits were proof of how much he cared about me. If anything had to come out of that tragedy then I’m glad it was that. First day of combat school was a living nightmare for me though. *tensing up* we had to get changed into our combat gear and it was the first time I’ve ever been in a locker room. All the girls stared at my scars when I started to undress; gasping and showing grossed out expressions. It got so bad that I dropped out of the class for a year. Eventually I just powered through it but I’m still not comfortable with showing my skin. It’s the reason I’m always wearing long clothes.

*She waits for the doors to open before briskly leaving*

Valerie:My life is pretty boring honestly. I’m pretty sure anybody else has a much better memories. I good memory I have is my mom staying up with me all night the time I broke my arm. The numbing medicine wore off and the pain got really bad. She distracted me from it by just keeping me company until I passed out. I don’t really have bad memories....frankly I have a hard time even feeling important with how talented everyone else is. Almost like I’m dead weight.

*the locks surprisingly accept both responses and the door cracks open. She pushes her way through.*

Lucas:Best memory, writing a book. Worst memory, activating my semblance.....

*and just like that he was out of the room. No words or movements wasted what so ever*

Girl:....... *sits down and leans on it* Sorry, I don’t feel like opening up to something that’s supposed to open for me. Guess I fail this test; not that it matters. Can’t win them all; just ones that matter. *goes to sleep*

#rwby #my oc’s #yujin xiao long #lie tenzen #jacquelyn frost #sienna frost #jael frost #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #val valkyrie #lucas belladonna #@elzetastuff OC is lilith #oc test

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cinaminho · 5 years

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Stray Mafia: You Push them away ,, 4/7

╰ Group: StrayKids

╰ Genre: Slight angst,, slight fluff

╰ warnings: All regular members are not in here,, Not in Order ,, not proof read

Request - Could you do a stray kids mafia scenario where their S/O has a break down and begins to push them away, kind of closing up? I LOVE YOU!!

Plot - just a week away from your wedding, Spoiler; next scenario you begin distancing yourself away from him, naturally a bunch of scenarios come to mind as to why you're suddenly acting this way again, are you sick , maybe? Just in a bad mood? It could be a number of things, but trust, your mafia companion will get to the bottom of it. How does he do so and how does he react to this behavior?

They became too long and I ran out of space,I don't feel like switching to my tablet, so I kept my favorite written ones, cool with you? Mmk.

Chan:

He'd be one to try and talk to you making frequent attempts. Now that'd you admitted your love for each other and your big day was no longer far enough to call off , there was no way he was going to let you close up now. Whatever it was you'd fight through it together , that's what he told himself and you. Now obviously, he knew something was wrong but was it so deeply bothering you that you tore through half the house out of anger? When he stepped inside your shared home to see the ransacked place he didn't hesitate to pull a gun from his jacket pocket, slowing trailing through every inch of the house eventually making his way up stairs where he finds you, hobbled on the window seat of the bedroom, the veins on the side of your head visible, shortened rigid breathing was heard, your hands with war scars on them. He'd drop his gun to race over and sit in front of you, cupping your face bombarding you with questions, but all he got was small hiccups, cries, and tears.

"Y/n, what happened, who came In here, did they attack you?!"

His questions would come a mile a minute. You'd simply shake your head. He'd sigh out of relief that he didn't have to kill someone tonight. After studying your face he'd realize that it wasn't mafia related at all. This was something more personal.

"This has nothing to to do with me or the mafia, you're dealing with something else, Yeah?" With nothing as a response again he'd have his answer, carressing your cheek he'd give you an apologetic look.

"We'll get through this, I don't know exactly what's wrong but neither of us are leaving this spot until I do."

Changbin:

Was at a stand still on what to do. He was one to handle his personal business with you on his own, no one outside of you two needed to know what went on between you two but this was one time he went to his leader or another member of the gang that he trusted, most had a S/O themselves so of course they should know, right? He'd be pacing back in forth in Chan's office voicing his concerns about you while Chan, like the amazing leader he was would just listen, he liked that they just weren't a vicious gang of strangers, but a family that could voice their worries to each other. Once he was able to come up with a solution he'd come home ready to get things back on track. He walked through the door to see you dragging your feet down the hallway back towards the living room , he'd be cautious in his approach.

"Your legs are working again are they? This us the first time I've seen you downstairs in 2 days, the chef had to bring you your food." He tried with some light humor though he wasn't one for jokes.

You just looked back at him blankly before heading towards the couch. Changbin bit his bottom lip letting out an inward heavy sigh, he was having enough of this no communication, he was trying to be a good fiancee, his temper could only stay at bay for so long.

"Y/n , I don't care where or when you tell me what's wrong it can be before or after the wedding, but When our wedding day actually comes so help me GOD, if this is the attitude you will display your part of our honeymoon will be spent between four brick cement walls!"

Normally his threats might've scared the dog crap out of you but you felt light like you had nothing to lose. You ignored him as you sat down flipping through a magazine, Changbin's eye twitched at the lack of attention you were giving him and his concern for you. He took short strides towards you snatching the book from you and flinging it somewhere, you winced as you got a papercut in the mist. You looked at your index finger then to him.

"You gave me a paper cut you idiot!" You semi yelled.

"That's what gets you to talk to me? Well maybe you should have a few more."

"I'M JUST NOT FEELING WELL , DUMB ASS, WE ALL GET IN THESE MOODS, YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW!" Your tone was steady and vicious as your temper boiled over.

Changbin cocked an eyebrow up at you. "That's the most weak excuse I've ever heard for such behavior."

You looked down at your ring twisting it on your finger realizing that maybe you had just been being a bit rude, Changbin had finally given into you and you treated him like this. He tilted his head to the side using his index finger to rub the throbbing vein in the middle of his forehead.

"Tell you what , lovely , you stay here and you figure out how to approach this situation better, I have other things to do rather than deal with a bratty fiancee at the moment."

Hyunjin:

It hurt him, oh yes it did. Understanding that you two had a few rough patches he thought you needed distance, that meant a day to a week which he gave you but not an entire month almost, the unthinkable was peaking into his thoughts, pestering with his state of mind. You had become an huge white cloud over his usually Grey one in this underground world that seemed to have no end, letting you slip away wasn't an option for him , he couldn't put it off any longer, all short conversations, lack of affectionate words and actions towards one another, the person he'd come to just to laugh and feel normal again for a few hours, that was all slipping past his finger tips as of now. He'd fight for it before anything else became an option , Hyunjin approached you more timidly after putting up a front pretending that it wasn't bothering him as much as it did, he was afraid of what actually was wrong praying it wouldn't be something you two couldn't fix.

After you came back from cake testing being that was all you were up for simply because sweets were involved, you closed the door ready to hang up your coat on the rack attached to the wall just to slightly be surprised by Hyunjin leaning his back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes boring into yours.

"Did you enjoy the testing?" He asked, voice more bland and emotionless.

You pondered on why he was there before answering his question.

"Uh huh, it was good I think I found the flavor for our I cake." You mumbled turning away and heading for the grand staircase. You felt Hyunjin was following as you picked up your pace towards the stairs. He knew you were trying to get away from him which hurt more. He tried to mask his pain with a casual response.

"Oh yeah, now you can put in the order."

You just hummed as you got to the top of the stairs.

"Are you second guessing the wedding...... Marrying me?" The last two words of Hyunjin's sentence came out relatively softer, he didn't say them too loud hoping you couldn't hear him and give him an answer just in case it burned.

You rolled your eyes tears started brimming at the gates ready to be released so you blinked rapidly shooing them away inhaling and exhaling before you turned to sit at the top of the steps.

Your mouth opened and Hyunjin's eyes were hopeful. "No No not at all, I'm just thinking..." You trailed off.

Hyunjin couldn't take much more suspense. "Is this about the life style you were dragged into because I was dragged into this really as well, it hasn't and won't interfere with us, I promise." His tone was desperate and determined.

You looked anywhere but at him as your eyes on eyes once again stung the flood gates opened freely you quickly shot your hands up to your face hiding it from view as you stiffled in the loud cries you so desperately wanted to let go of as your body Shook. He didn't hesitate to rush up the steps to you.

"What if we don't feel the way we do now about each other when the knot is officially tied? That's when the real trials begin." Your shakey voice faded in and out as you spoke.

"That's what you're worry about? Y/n I absolutely doubt that'd be a problem you love me just as much as I love you , right?"

You wiped the corner of your eyes and nodded. Hyunjin put a comforting hand on your knee as he sat a step below you.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd voice your concerns to me I was going insane not knowing what was going on in your mind , sunshine ." He chuckled.

"I apologize." You mumbled. Hyunjin simply layed his head on your knew, you took that as a sign to rub your fingers through his hair he sighed in enjoyment.

"Don't mention it. We'll make this work, I know it and so should you."

Minho:

NOT that rational. He thought you were cheating... With an "enemy" at that. You'd been distant, phone calls you'd had would be out of ear shot you'd also tell him it was no one important when he asked. Definitely meant you were cheating, right? Of course when was this boy ever wrong, he's in the mafia so of course he'd have his way to find out and so when you were indeed meeting with someone else and lying he was boiling. He decided to shut you out as well it was a game made for two. So while you two sat down at the dinner table meant for at least twelve people on opposite ends, only utensils heard hitting against plates or tables, a few sighs in between and stolen glances when the other's head was down the tension was so uncomfortable but you didn't feel like speaking, it's not like you trusted your voice anyway.

Minho harshly cut through his steak getting angrier picturing himself using it to dig into someone's flesh instead instead of his dinner infront of him, you looked up looking at the rapid pace he was cutting through the food.

"Minho the food isn't your enemy." You mumbled.

"You're right apparently my fiancee is." He spat back.

Your head shot up and you shot him a glare. "Um. How am I your enemy?" That question was the light to the fuse. He snapped.

He sprung up from his seat causing the chair to topple backwards, his next move proved his rage with one swipe of his arm the table and flew into the scream colored walls splattering. You just sat with your jaw slacking open, what had gotten into him?

"You really must take me for a fool, Y/n." Minho let out a bitter chuckle as he clenched his jaw. Your brows knitted into one staring at him as you stood up.

"What're you talking about?!"

"The secret phone calls, leaving the house making sure to lose my guards when they followed you, lying about who you were with!" He started naming off things that you'd done.

"Oh my-- well who in the heck knew a member of the mafia could be such an insecure jackass!"

Minho stomped towards you meeting you face to face with a warning finger out reached. "You better watch how you talk to me, you're on thin ice, very thin ice!"

"Well then LET ME BREAK IT. You wanna know who I've been with?" You challenged.

Minho let out a sarcastic laugh "as if I don't already know, like you said, I'm a member of the mafia, so you're with an Ikonic now?"

Your eyes dialated in either that's what he thought you were up to? You were having trouble wrapping your head around it all.

"What? No! You clueless jerk, Song and I have been friends and one of his own members were in critical condition he wanted me to comfort him! He knew your gang and his weren't on the best terms so he ask me not to tell you to avoid either of us getting in trouble!" Furious hot tears ran down your cheeks you hated feeling so small against him.

"I don't think that was a good idea!" He yelled back with just as much force.

"Look Minho, I'm sorry, I am I should've told you but would you have let me-"

"Absolutely not." He quickly answered already knowing the question.

"Exactly why I didn't tell you, I'm not cheating you imbecile." You groaned while wiped your tears away.

"But you lied. What do expect me to think when yoe hide things from me and pushing me away everytime I ask a question?" He shrugged not caring to admit he was wrong as well.

"I'm sorry but it was for a good cause."

"Disagree." He simply replied. He looked back at the mess he made , he whined. "Look what I did because I was afraid I was losing you, Y/n."

You stifled a giggle but he caught it. He smiled softly palming the back of your head and bringing his lips to your forhead before kissing the remaining tear droplets away.

Others will be added in the second half :)

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porchwood · 5 years

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Hey friends,

I’ve been struggling to come up with a sufficient thank-you for all your help with the GoFundMe, but it seems every time I sit down to try to write a response, some new awful thing arises. And this past week was the worst yet (maybe the worst ever).

When last I spoke to you, I was getting over a bad cold and preparing to ease back into work after my injury. The PT office finally called me back and I went in for one session to make sure I was at a recovery point where it was okay for me to do massage again; the therapist did a quick assessment - no exercises demonstrated or recommended - kinesiotaped the knee and charged $100 that I had to pay then and there. (So a waste, and an expensive one, but I guess it could have been worse?) The next day I started back at work VERY part-time (one 60-90 min client a day) and it absolutely killed me. I was no longer wearing the brace and my knee actually did okay with the work (bending/crouching notwithstanding), but the rest of my body (esp core muscles) were just drop-kicked by the work. I went home exhausted and shaky every day and finally tried substantially increasing my protein intake, which felt a little ridiculous (we’re talking a 24g shake + an 11g bar for breakfast or two entrees at lunchtime), but it’s done a world of good, and that’s all thanks to you guys. (Protein of any kind isn’t cheap and your incredible donations made it possible for me to buy good food to rebuild my muscles.)

The end of my first week back at work, I fell hard on the ice outside my house. Miraculously, my left knee never even hit the ground, but I fell flat on my back and my left wrist - without any lasting injury, thankfully, but I was absolutely worthless for the next 24 hours and had several days (crucial returning-to-massage days) of varying degrees of pain in that wrist. In the meantime, I made a couple of other adjustments (raising my massage table to take the strain off my lower body, getting back on an ibuprofen schedule instead of just taking it after the fact, when I was hurting badly), all of which helped, but I’m still only about 85% back. My knee still hurts every morning when I wake up and gets stiff and sore whenever I have it bent for any length of time. My workplace has been surprisingly good about letting me work a slower schedule as I build back up (ex. 3 clients a day instead of 5), and last Friday I finally got a paycheck for the first time in over a month (!).

Then, two weeks ago, I was wakened at 3am to Lucky (my little rat terrier) falling off the bed. This has happened before and is usually comical after the fact, but when I picked her up, she emptied her bladder all over me, and when I tried to set her down to check on her, her back legs had gone limp and wouldn’t support her. Terrified (I’ve heard enough end-of-life dog stories to know this isn’t good), I was about to take her to the emergency vet when she sat up like nothing had happened and began licking herself. I took her outside and she walked around a bit, completely sound on her feet, and pottied again - business as usual. Worried and mystified, I messaged my (LPN) mother who thought the urination sounded like a shock reaction to the fall, so I gave Lucky a bath and spent most of the day just cuddling with her.

For about two seconds, life seemed like it might finally be getting a little better. I was able to pick up two massages at a local inn (which pay substantially better than massages at the spa and provide some very helpful extra money). And then on Thursday, I came home to a slightly anxious Lucky (howling quietly on my bed), and when she got up to greet me, her back legs wouldn’t support her. I scooped her up immediately and her entire body went limp (seemingly lifeless), her head and neck lolling over my arm. As I ran through the house with her, her bladder emptied down the front of me and - still lifelessly limp - she gave the most horrifying howl I’ve ever heard. I was convinced she was dying in my arms.

As we tore down the road to the vet’s (thankfully, about a 5-minute drive from home), she sat up on my lap and by the time we’d reached the office, she was acting downright normal again. I was able to get us in with one of the vets about 10 mins later (a tech checked her out right away to triage her and make sure she was stable), and he wanted to get some data on her heart. She’s had a heart murmur for almost her entire life and, while I’ve asked repeatedly what we could do for that, the only advice I was ever given was hawthorn and ginkgo supplements (which she takes on a more or less daily basis), and at one point we tried a canine cardiac formula for a few months with no notable changes.

She had an EKG, chest x-rays, and a blood draw ($516, including the office call) and then that info was sent to a veterinary cardiologist in Portland. All they could tell me in the meantime was that her heart is enlarged and to just have her take it easy for the rest of the day; they would call me first thing the next morning with the cardiologist’s report. Lucky was sleepy but normal for the rest of the day and I passed an awful night of bad dreams (including one about rabid dogs) and waking every hour or so to make sure she was okay.

I was scheduled for my typical split on Friday but had only one client at the end of the day and was an emotional wreck, so I asked if I could just go home to be with Lucks and I found another therapist to cover my client. I still hadn’t heard from the vet by 10am, so I called to check in. He gave me a brief summary over the phone and asked if we could come in for some more tests, which was another hour and a half and $236. (I was able to put these two visits on my CareCredit card but for some reason the vet only gives a 6 month promotional period instead of the 12-18 months that other places do. If you’re not familiar, CareCredit is a great option IF you can pay off everything quickly. If you can’t, you’re clobbered with obscene interest on the entire sum at the end of the promotional period, even if you’ve paid off almost all of the principal.)

I’m still making sense of the cardiologist’s report because it’s quite in-depth and my knowledge of the heart isn’t quite that high, but here’s what I’ve been able to glean:

- “severely enlarged” heart - borderline tachycardia and occasional arrhythmia (her collapse was considered a syncopal episode, if that helps anyone) - some degree of mitral valve issue - at risk of developing congestive heart failure

She was put on two heart meds, pimobendan/Vetmedin (which is supposed to be very effective and is also very expensive) and enalapril (an ACE-inhibitor), and she has a kidney check-up in about a week to make sure she’s doing well on them and adjust the doses if necessary. The vet seemed to think the prognosis was pretty good (considering that at this point we’re talking about staving off heart failure :/) - he said small dogs with mitral valve issues tend to do well on these meds - and other than this insanity with her heart, Lucky seems to be in pretty good shape. Before Thursday she was extremely active and happy; there’s no sign of neurological issues, and her BP, thyroid, kidneys, etc are all looking good. So I’m trying to stay hopeful.

She’s been a little extra sleepy (understandably) the past few days, but this afternoon she seemed unusually “off,” so I’m trying to figure out whether it’s her tiny body adjusting to the meds (which she needs to stay on for the rest of her life) or if her heart is suddenly starting to get tired and this is the new normal. :( I called my mother earlier (a mistake) and got a lot of pessimism-in-the-guise-of-sympathy that left me feeling like Lucky is on hospice and I should start making end-of-life arrangements now.

I’ve been crying for the better part of the last four days, and I don’t think I can articulate how painful this is for me. I didn’t think it was possible to donate a human heart to a canine but I looked it up just in case, because I would give her mine without hesitation. Lucky is my whole life - my soul running around in a little black-and-white body, and five years ago when my life systematically fell apart, she was the only thing misfortune didn’t touch - and I knew this, and I was waiting. Since then she developed sleeping bladder leaks (which, while frightening, were easily and effectively treated with estrogen), then severe separation anxiety (which I’ve been struggling to treat since 2016, and yes, I blame myself for the anxiety making her heart worse, even though I’ve done absolutely everything to help her overcome it). Lucky is absolutely the reason I didn’t try to end my life at various junctures over the past five years, and I don’t want to think about what will happen to me if she’s not here anymore.

And as ridiculous as this will sound: I was supposed to be married by now. When I got Lucks as a puppy, I knew the inevitable would one day come (unless Jesus comes back before then so Lucky and I can just go to heaven together, which I haven’t given up on), but I knew my life would be much different by then. I would have a home and a husband to help shoulder the financial and emotional burden. I was not supposed to be alone, sterile, and struggling just to make ends meet. I love my roommate dearly, but it’s not the same as having a spouse, nor should it be. She can give me hugs and listen to me cry, but at the end of the day it’s me in that dr’s office, holding my hurting baby and promising to pay for whatever they have to do, and me that has to hold everything together and keep going when the worst happens.

Incidentally, last Sunday was my birthday. I’ve mentioned before that my birthday has some kind of perverse curse, and if this year didn’t prove it, I don’t know what will.

My father (living in Nebraska, and with whom I’ve had a strained relationship since my hysterectomy) has congestive heart failure, and my mother called me shortly before all of the Lucky stuff to tell me that he’s failing and to try to talk me into moving back to Nebraska to help keep an eye on him. Which is a subject for another time entirely, but over the past few days I’ve been wondering if I should think about going back (temporarily), if only to be around family myself. It would be a complicated situation (I’d still be on the Maine lease and paying for half of everything, Lord knows if I’d be able to keep my Maine job when I came back and I’d end up back at Massage Envy in Nebraska, not to mention I’d be scrambling to pay down my medical bills and Lucky’s), but maybe it’s something I should consider.

Anyway: that’s where I’ve been. :( And I’m sure I look like an ingrate for not saying thank you about the funds sooner, but between the fatigue and the heartbreak, it’s been hard to manage much of anything lately.

#personal #lucky bloom #did i mention we got kicked out of our house four months ago?#and that i'm still recovering from an acute knee injury?#i almost can't even process this #and i know i'm quietly ignoring the parts i can't handle

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