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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

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Please we need yandere Alpha!Taeyong! There isn’t enough of that anywhere

If anyone had asked you to describe Taeyong three months ago, you would have replied to them easily, with a smile on your face.

"Oh, Taeyong? Yeah, I know him. He's the one who's always staying late to use the dance studio." You would say, seeing whoever it was you were talking to nod their head in confirmation. "He's kind. A bit quiet, but very supportive from what I've heard. I've seen him around campus a few times, and he seems kind of timid if you ask me, but he can be very observant and thoughtful."

"Wow, it sounds like you know him really well," they would often reply, to which you would simply shake your head.

"We're not that close," you would say, "but I've seen him around."

Oh, how Taeyong's entire being would light up every time he overheard you talking about him. Sure, you weren't close like he's always wanted, like he's always needed, but he's taking things slow. The last thing he wants to do is scare you off. It's happened before, and since you're just so perfect for him, he cannot- will not- risk loosing you.

Of course you would always see him around the dance studio. Expressing himself through this form of art is one of the many ways for him to manage his energy and emotions. Some of his other pack mates prefer boxing, or even running. Him? He prefers dancing.

Besides, the odd time he's caught you watching him from just outside the doors as he's practiced has set his heart racing in his chest. If he could burn any hotter, his skin would be on fire, practically melting beneath your gaze as he feels your eyes on him, and only him.

As it should be. As it will always be.

In this day and age, wolves can't really go up to their fated ones and say, 'hey, you're my mate', like they used to. The idea of spending eternity together can really turn some people off, apparently. Or so he's been told. Which is exactly why he's taking this approach with you.

That hasn't stopped him from keeping a close eye on you, of course. It's just a coincidence you haven't noticed him in nearly all of your classes. (A tragedy, if you ask him).

Slowly, he started making his presence known in your life, inserting himself more firmly in your social circles. He even started sitting closer to you in class, working up his way to sitting beside you in certain lectures that he knew you had by yourself.

It was a welcome change. For you at least. For him, the closer he got to you, both physically and socially, the harder his urges became. Did you always smell this good up close? Did you know what you were doing to him? You wore that shirt just to tease him, didn't you?

The worst for him was during the week of the full moon, when his beast snarled at him, practically begging for him to just finally claim what was rightfully his. But no. He had a pack to lead, and an example to set. If he couldn't control himself, how could he expect his pack mates to?

No, Taeyong had to always appear as his 'normal' kind and caring self. Especially to you.

That is, until one night when things got a little too heated in your room.

You had invited him over to work on a project, and luckily for him, both of your roommates were out for the night. However, unfortunately for him, this night just so happened to be the one right before the full moon. Taeyong knew he should have rescheduled, but you just seemed so eager for him that day, and his mind was foggy with thoughts of you and him alone at last that he had a lapse in better judgement.

"My room's just down the hall and to the left," you point off in that direction. "I'm just going to grab us some water, but feel free to make yourself at home."

Fuck, Taeyong swears that smile of yours will be the death of him someday. And your words? A content rumble nearly escapes him at the implications of starting a 'home' together.

His second test comes once he opens the door to your room.

Immediately, he is assaulted by everything you, and he thanks his lucky stars you are not around to see the way his eyes flash as your scent surrounds him. Would he be a creep if he stole one of your pairs of underwear he sees hanging oh, so innocently over the edge of your hamper just to his right?

Absolutely not. His beast snarls, fingers twitch by his side as he swipes the garment in the next moment, stuffing it in his back pocket. It was practically begging for him to take it, anyways...

By the time you enter your room, two glasses of water in hand, Taeyong is perched precariously on the side of your bed, attempting to control his breathing.

Your brow furrows. "You okay? You suddenly don't look so good."

"Never better," he hums, voice practically coming out in a purr as a pleased rumble escapes his chest at seeing you once more.

"Okay," you reply, a bit skeptically as you hand him his glass. His fingers brushing against yours purposefully, of course. "But if you're not feeling well, you should go home and rest. We can always work on this project another night-"

"No." He's quick to cut you off, before straightening himself and clearing his throat. "I mean- I'll be fine."

Despite the smile he sends your way, you don't feel all that reassured. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head, sitting down at your desk chair while opening up your laptop. "Then let's get this over with."

A few hours later and you've managed to outline your entire project, practically completing it all in one go.

Taeyong, of course, took this opportunity to continue to get closer to you, and as you typed away on your laptop, he came to stand beside you. Soon, he had been leaning over your shoulder, head resting just beside yours and dangerously close to your neck. He couldn't help but steal glances at the smooth expanse of skin every now and then, practically begging for him to finally mark you as his for all to see. And your scent? Fuck, it's the strongest it's ever been.

Never has Taeyong had to exercise such self control. He could feel his fingers practically digging into the back of your chair, the leather straining underneath his grip. Oh, so badly did he wish it could be your body, his hands holding you close as he finally claims you as his. To be one with you, mind, body, and soul, is his greatest desire, and being this close to you like this only fuels his urges like never before.

Having finished typing for the night, you decided to lean back in your chair, unknowingly brushing your head against the skin of his fingers where he's been holding the chair in a death grip for the past twenty minutes. Sparks, like electricity travel up his arm from where your bodies meet, and he knows his eyes have bled golden once more.

You feel it, too, don't you? After all, how can you not? Not when he's this reactive to your touch alone.

In a flash, he's spun you around in your chair. Your wide eyes meet his hooded ones, mouth parting slightly as you take in his suddenly seemingly disheveled appearance. His chest heaves with each ragged inhale he takes, his golden eyes shining bright.

Your lips part in a silent gasp.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" His voice is low, rumbling out of his chest with the rawness of his words.

"I'm sorry?" You reply, your own voice coming out slightly higher than normal with your nerves now on high alert.

He leans in, frowning as he watches you lean back as far as you can in your seat in response. "I would never hurt you."

"What the hell is going on?" You haven't been able to tear your eyes away from his golden ones this whole time, your heart racing in your chest at the situation you now find yourself in. You nearly jump at the feeling of Taeyong's hand against your skin, cupping your face gently as a shiver runs down his spine. You freeze, panic now lining your every word. "What are you doing?"

"Something that I've always wanted to." He grins, but you don't feel an ounce of comfort at the way the expression stretches wolfishly across his features. "Something that I've always been meant to."

With those words, he claims your lips with his own.

#ask #yandere taeyong #taeyong drabble #yandere nct #nct drabble #drabbles #wolf au

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ina-nis · 9 months

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Loneliness: It's not something we have, or something we're victims of. (...) Depression is easier to talk about, Kim argues, because it “is a recognized illness with a biological basis.” The liberally minded, at least, “understand that the depressed are victims rather than makers of their misfortune." Loneliness, by contrast, does not enjoy this objective status. Nor, Kim notes, does it “benefit from the same sympathetic perspective of victimhood.” Loneliness, which “cannot yet be attributed to brain chemistry,” is often perceived instead as “a social dysfunction of one’s own invention.” It is rarely raised as a personal issue, he continues, because the “unspoken assumption” is “that if you are lonely, then you must be unlikeable or socially maladapted.”

(...) The trouble with loneliness, in other words, is that subjective experience cannot be eliminated. Talking about a disorder like depression transforms feelings into something more physical (...) something that has you. The personal difficulties I am struggling with and the beliefs that shape my emotional experience disappear, replaced by the abstract it of depression, a malignant external force. But Kim does not have loneliness. He is lonely (...) His “confessions of loneliness” leave him open to judgments of inadequacy. It is so much safer to be considered a “victim” of depression. Then, all this human messiness disappears from the conversation. (...) Murthy recently revisited the subject (...) Loneliness, for Murthy, is something people often bring on themselves, as he illustrates with both his own experience and that of a friend. It can be addressed by simple choices to “prioritize human connection.” His tick-box recommendations for success: strengthen existing programs “that bring people together,” use our devices less, and “reach out to people we care about” more.

It’s a familiar list, often repeated. Loneliness, in this scheme, is a lack of social interaction. But people like Kim are rightly wary of this reduction. They know that many outgoing people with active social lives are lonely. (...) Kim described his loneliness in various ways. He talked about a lack of “deep, nourishing bonds,” a feeling that “no one truly understands me,” an emptiness and sense of isolation, and the “awful feeling of being encaged” in his own mind. Such characterizations do not suggest a mere lack of social contact or the need for programs “that bring people together.” They suggest an estrangement from others. Not an absence, but a quality, of relations that lack meaningful connection, feel alien, or are non-responsive. Relations, in short, that are “relationless,” that are mute and do not speak. The element of estrangement stands out in another word that Kim uses for loneliness: alienation. Alienation, though not synonymous, is a helpful concept for thinking about the personal experience of loneliness because it can be defined only in relation to specific contexts or social expectations—to what a person is alienated from. Rather than another abstraction, it can direct our attention to the ways in which people feel disconnected from their social worlds.

Among the possible forms of personal alienation that might relate to loneliness, three feelings stand out: homelessness, insecurity, and powerlessness. By homeless, I don’t mean a physical condition—being homeless—but a sense of not belonging. Disconnection, for instance, might follow a loss of meaningful others and accompany grief or homesickness or health challenges that restrict interaction. It might reflect a detachment from a situation or community, such as when we do not share the values or goals that are highly regarded by those around us. We might feel homeless when we do not feel respected, or our abilities or accomplishments valued. A sense of disconnection might also arise from a marginalization enforced by others, as when our “type” is disfavored, or we have been singled out and ostracized.

By insecurity, I mean not a lack of confidence or a feeling of anxiety but a distressing awareness of the tenuousness or superficiality of our social relations. The lack of depth and satisfaction may be especially felt in educational and professional settings, which can be highly competitive and where rewards hinge on carefully orchestrated presentations of self. Rather than being cultivated toward genuine friendship, associations are developed for such networking purposes as enhancing prestige or climbing ladders. Rather than being open and honest, relations are characterized by diffuse distrust, invidious comparisons, and mask-wearing. There is an enforced aloneness when no one can afford to be vulnerable. Finally, by powerless, I mean not so much the inability to control situations, as a perceived lack of self-efficacy to make meaningful bonds. Much in our world is unstable, precarious, unpredictable. The few remaining rules of conduct tend to be negative: what not to do. Lack of guidance and sheer self-protection can lead to a closing off from others. Retreating into ourselves, we may find, to quote Alexis de Tocqueville, confined “in the solitude of [our] own heart.” A truly responsive relationship, one in which both parties speak with their own voice, may seem unattainable. We may doubt not only our ability to reach another person but our ability to make an accommodating response should they be touched or affected by us.

Loneliness, in short, is complex. It defies the language of victimization, on the one hand, and the reduction to merely quantitative terms, on the other. At stake is often an estrangement from our surroundings that is neither external to us nor a matter of the number of people with whom we might interact. Loneliness concerns the quality of our relations, their mutuality, the ways in which they speak or fail to speak to us. If we want to understand loneliness, this is where we have to look (x)

#loneliness #resources

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cantuscorvi · 2 years

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With a little patient smile, Nezumi waits in the bed. He sits in the sheets like a cat waiting for its master, and as soon as the opportunity presents itself, it would crawl into their lap.

Similarly to the cat, Nezumi sprawls himself over Raum as soon as his back hits the mattress. He brings the blanket with them and straddles Raum's waist, then lays his head on Raum's chest and contently closes his eyes. He isn't looking for sex. They've had plenty of that. He merely wants to feel Raum's warmth, listen to his heartbeat.

Nezumi makes a fond purring sound, then kisses where his lips brush. He pecks Raum's chest. His dark hair spill like a curtain at each side of his face, framing his devoted expression like the show of love that it is. Lazily, Nezumi stretches forward to Raum's neck. Just because he can—just because he cannot get enough.

And through the kisses, he speaks: "I've realised . . . that I've never seen you angry . . . truly angry . . ." He nibbles at Raum's jaw. "You're always so calm—terrifyingly so—but never angry. Red boiling anger . . . like a storm . . . or a hurricane."

Fingers pet over Raum's shoulders and down his arms, then up again.

"I want to know . . . tell me how you are when your rage spills . . . Describe it to me."

@nezumivc103221

There was a light sigh when Raum settled into bed, hair still mildly damp. His eyes were closed, but when Nezumi came to him, as he had grown to expect, one blue eye opened to regard him, vaguely questioning. When Nezumi merely settled atop him, content, they closed again. Raum lay back under Nezumi’s weight like a lion under the sun. He felt relaxed after the shower, comfortable, strangely unburdened. His hands settled at the curve of Nezumi’s waist, neck arching back slowly under the movement of the other man’s lips. He released a breath slowly, hovering on the edge of drowsiness, even as Nezumi began to ask him questions.

Raum hummed, fingers idly walking up Nezumi’s sides. He considered that Nezumi had asked possibly the worst person possible to describe their own emotions. Normally it would frustrate him to try, feeling like grasping at straws, but sleep was clawing at his thoughts, and so when he couldn’t find the exact words he was looking for, he let it go. As such, it took him a short while to start speaking in return.

“Some people are rather good at being angry. They carry their rage like a weapon, a tool, or fuel. They can use it constructively. It empowers them.” Raum shook his head, a crease appearing between his brows. “I… cannot. Anger doesn’t serve me – it burdens me.”

The reason Nezumi ( and in fact, anyone ) had seen so little of Raum’s anger is because he knew this fact. For him it was only a destructive emotion, and one that would easily spiral out of control if left unchecked, a feeling he hated. Such an easy way to fall into someone else’s hands – Raum dared only allow himself to feel it as little as possible. The approach led to his current composed state, his terrifying calm, as Nezumi had described it, and yet it came with a price. Raum had swallowed so much rage over the course of his life – it was like holding onto a ticking bomb. Eventually… it exploded.

“It’s difficult to describe. No doubt, what I experience will be different from how you might perceive it.” Raum curled the ends of Nezumi’s hair around his fingers while he spoke. “Imagine opening a box and watching a spider crawl out. It’s too fast for you to find it and force it back in. It will only return when it chooses to.” A moment of consideration, light sigh leaving his lips and voice edging on sleepy. “I can become single-minded - usually there is a target. Although, I will not be reasoned with until it has passed... If something gets in my way, I will remove it. Indiscreetly.” A mild, silent yawn interrupts him, and Raum’s hand slowly raises to cup the back of Nezumi’s head. “That is – violently. Most… Hm. Most likely.”

In contrast, his touch is gentle and lazy, fingers brushing through the soft roots of Nezumi’s dark locks.

“I think… I’d prefer not t’show you,” Raum confessed in a mumble, drifting on the edge of sleep.

#nezumivc103221 #( dulce periculum ; raum & nezumi )#v: undercover #FINALLY #me dragging out this old fucking ask from MARCH #but i wanted to answer it #<3

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zygosisproject · 24 days

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Writing Initiative #7

Which piece did you present to the class today? How does it relate to the other pieces previously presented?

I presented my experimental and reflective in-progress. Each piece is still in its rough stage in terms of placing elements together. For my experimental piece, I am creating a kit that guides someone through the stages of hearing impairment, including an open letter of self-actualization about accepting hearing impairment as an identity.

With these elements, I am including slime- because slime can be seen as a fidget toy that aids a child lacking sensory input, and can help children deal with emotions that they cannot otherwise describe. It also assist with coordination and fine motor skills- something that I hoped would be incorporated into all of my pieces.

My reflective is a documentary in which I have gathered photos and videos documenting various stages of my hearing impairment. Along with this, I have also interviewed three individuals - one of them has cochlear implants and I wanted them to share their perspective and experience by asking the following questions:

Describe your first impression of hearing loss when you first heard about it? How would you define hearing loss? How was the experience of transitioning to a new version of self after getting your first pair of hearing aids? Was there a phase that you found difficult in your hearing loss journey? What do you think about the term hearing impairment? Should there be a better word/ way to describe a disability with so much stigma to it? Do you feel like people understand you when you say that you have a hearing disability? How do you describe to people what hearing aids/ cochlear implants are? How can we create a more inclusive environment for people with hearing disabilities? How do hearing aids/cochlear implants work?

Describe 2–3 specific strengths your classmates found in your work and their reasons for identifying them.

In general, I received positive feedback for the pieces that I have shown, even though they are still incomplete. They mentioned that the experimental piece ties well with the other pieces that I created in terms of exploring the stigma around hearing impairments and understanding how hearing impairment works since it is an unfamiliar topic for many individuals.

In terms of the reflective piece, they mentioned that the documentary serves as a strong conclusion to my project- where I share my experience of navigating through each piece, my hearing impairment journey, and accepting my disability after years of attempting to conceal it because I have been afraid of being judged for having different needs and accommodations to get myself through work and school.

Describe 1–2 specific ways your classmates thought you could improve this work going forward.

During critique, I mentioned that I was struggling to put together my experimental piece - because the slime formula was not working well, and I was not too sure if I wanted to continue with this idea, and it felt like the box was lacking cohesiveness. A classmate suggested that I should create different boxes within the large box to address various stages of hearing impairment (see below).

Box 1: what hearing impairment is, types of hearing loss. degree of hearing loss, what is an audiogram

Box 2: how to educate others about it, types of accommodations

Box 3: an open letter of self-actualization.

Along with these boxes, I have slime to address different emotions.

Slime A- (citrus)- Happy/ Excited

Slime B- (peppermint)- Agitated

Slime C- (Lavender)- Anxious/Worried

Slime D- (Vanilla)-calmness

Consider the remaining outcome yet to be presented in a couple of weeks; why have you put it off the longest? Describe your reasons for presenting this outcome last.

The majority of my pieces are in their final stages of assembly and publishing, except for my experimental, because I was lacking ideas and was unsure of how I was going to pursue this kit. However, through peer suggestions, I feel more confident and I have a better vision for how to create this kit. What is left is to create the guides and the boxes that will represent different stages of hearing impairment.

Finally, you have now had a chance to present each of your projects (2D, 3D, 4D, Experimental, Reflective) in process to the class. Produce an image of each one and describe how an aspect of your word is manifested in each piece.

My word Zygosis means two gametes coming together to form an organism. However, I altered this definition to become more personal and decided on a new equation: the relationship between written and spoken language in hearing impairement.

2D (frequencies) borders on illegibility shifting away from a formal writing style that adheres to a strict grid pattern. What I intended to portray is a non-verbal/non-formal way of interpreting sounds as a hearing-impaired.

3D (communication cubes) Explores the tactile learning approach from Maria Montessori's theory of early childhood education. Here, I have each side dedicated to a different method of communication including lip reading, braille, sign language, transliteration, traceable letters, and waveforms- for each Latin alphabet.

4D- (Tinnitus Soundscape)- In this piece, I am taking users on an experience of what it is like to have tinnitus through a soundscape that I made with GarageBand and Adobe Audition, and animated using After Effects. The final presentation will be presented in a virtual reality headset- a familiar experience re-envisioned through a hearing impairment perspective.

Experimental- a hearing impaired kit that takes one through a journey of three stages of hearing impairment (learning, discussing with others, and acceptance)

Reflective- Documentary of hearing impairment. Here I share my own experiences of overcoming the stigma that is attached to hearing loss, different perspectives of hearing loss and, what I have learned during this self-directed project.

youtube

#Youtube

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blue-opossum · 1 year

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What is Precognition - and what is NOT? Part 2

2 minutes and 34 seconds to read.

Wednesday afternoon, 14 December 2022.

What is Precognition - and what is NOT? Part 2

Here I will review three dreams relating to the inexplicable. All involve fire.

One dream involves Carol, and another, Marilyn. They are half-sisters on my mother's side.

One of my earliest vivid dreams regarding what people might call "precognitive" was in 1965 when I dreamt about Carol's toaster catching fire. Even so, my dream was occurring about the same time it was occurring in reality, at her house (while I was at Marilyn's place at the time). It was on 25 September 1965. Carol had thrown her burning toaster into her bathtub with a wet towel around it.

Part of my dream replayed (with alterations integrating Carol into the narrative) the Beverly Hillbillies episode "That Old Black Magic" - that I had seen on 22 September. It may have been one of my first influences associating astrology with black magic (and evil) in a comedic way, but it was unrelated to the theme of a toaster fire.

In another dream, as an adult, I rapidly glided from Southside La Crosse to Northside La Crosse about a foot above the streets (taking the same route as if I was walking in waking life) in the late morning. I perceived myself as a flat, two-dimensional being, shaped like a cloverleaf, called a Jargon, about the size of a car. In my dream, I saw the underside of vehicles passing over me without incident.

Eventually, my dreaming mode and perceptual focus changes, and I appear to be a small presence (like a sentient spark) floating near Marilyn's left shoulder. My size orientation is wrong as if I was not much larger than an insect. The fuse box door is open, and a small fire is inside over one of the fuses in the upper left corner. Marilyn seems surprised at it.

When I visited Marilyn a few days later in waking life, I learned that a small fire had occurred in that exact location in the fuse box. Precognition? No, because it happened around the same time. What was the point of the first segment with the two-dimensional "Jargon" entity (especially considering the nature of it being an English word and not something foreign)? It was probably just a pointlessly surreal imaginary event as a precursor to a different mode of dreaming.

On the night of the day that I went with Jim (half-brother on my mother's side) to visit his friend Niles to look at his computer games, Niles died in an unusual fire. The insulation somehow caught fire, supposedly from exposed wiring. In my dream (that occurred during the event), the Loomis Street house (where I was sleeping) was superimposed over his. I saw the fire burn unusually along the ceiling. My mental voice noted this as if I was describing it without emotion. The newspaper article that reported the event mentioned how the ceiling burned unusually (though likely because of the insulation).

The last part may seem like precognition (especially as the news article's wording was the same). However, consider that the person reporting the event may have somehow picked up on what I was thinking earlier (regarding my thoughts corresponding with the fire) even though the real-world details were also a factor. There is no legitimate way to know for sure (regarding timing or who influenced who or what information came from where).

So far, I have reviewed five inexplicable experiences that could not have been solely coincidental. There are thousands more that I hope to review and examine more closely. None of them are similar to the generic childish blather that many people propagate - which pains me on some levels because I know they are not very bright - and their mindless blather is an embarrassment to Zsuzsanna and me.

In the first part of this series, I mentioned that many ignorant people claim that you "cannot read" in dreams, which is untrue (like virtually everything I read about dreams). Regarding this entry, there were people who came to me a few years ago saying how "amazing" I am because I can dream of fire (although this person seemed mentally disabled, to be honest - like many who approach me as such). Yes, believe it or not, many people claim a person "cannot dream of fire." I am supposed to put faith in humanity's "intelligence?" No, absolutely not.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams

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robin-the-enby · 2 years

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Hey! I see that your requests are open and would you be okay doing a Judd birch x reader where they get into an argument but with a happy/fluffy ending? Love your writing btw !💜

Fuck you!

Pairing: Judd Birch x reader

Summary: Judd is brash and secretive. And you're used to that. But one day, he takes it too far.

Warnings: swearing, arguing, maybe ooc! Judd

A/N: Words cannot describe how excited I was to finally get to this request! I love this edgy boy with all my heart and it's fantastic to see people wanting content with him! Anyway, I tried to make the argument so that it wouldn't be only one person's fault, because that is rarely the case in a relationship I think. Enjoy!

."Fuck you!"

You screamed, stomping out of Birchs' home and striding fast right to your bike, that you leaned against the wall of their garage when you arrived.

You decided to glance at the doorway, which you left wide open in your anger. He wasn't even following you, you thought to yourself. But at the same time, that was Judd Birch for you.

Agent of chaos.

Anarchist.

The most mysterious guy in your school. And the one you fell for and he for you. At least that's what you hoped. At first you thought his bad boy appearance was only a façade. But as you got closer, you realized just how wrong this first impression was. He was just as dark and cynical behind closed doors as he was in public. Perhaps that's what attracted you to him even more. Finally an independent, out of the box thinking individual who wanted nothing else than to see the world burn.

He never showed any sign that he liked you. And yet, when you asked him out, a dare given to you by your friend, he surprisingly agreed. Your first date wnt well, albeit a trip to a car wreck in the middle of the woods was a bit unusual. But you enjoyed it and it seemed Judd didn't seem to mind your presence as well, so you mutually agreed to keep seeing each other. And the rest was history.

He was never one for showing affection, but he still had his ways of showing you that he cared about you. For example, the way he put an arm around your waist if someone was being creepy or the unique dates he and his raccoons would organize for the two of you. It was these moments that you knew there was something going on in that genius mind of his.

You understood from the moment you two made your relationship official, that being with Judd would not be a regular relationship. He wasn't the type of person that would open up about his emotions or thoughts on his own and sometimes not even if prompted or asked. He wasn't kind or caring in a traditional way. Still, you hoped in those specific ways he would change at least a little bit over time. Maybe, just maybe, he would grow more comfortable around you and would trust you more the longer you were together. So you waited.

And waited.

For six months you waited for him to open up and he never did. Not once. And despite knowing you had no right to rush him and that some poeple took time before they were comfortable with their significant other, you couldn't help but feel...frustrated.

Yet, you didn't want to stress your boyfriend, so you kept your frustration to yourself. You doubted that if he didn't want to open up to you he would want to talk about this.

So you continued on with your life, handling school, family life and your relationship like usual. Today you especially looked forward to the afteroon, because you were going to Judd's place. You loved hanging out at Judd's. His parents were...odd, but charming, and they liked you, which was a plus. And Judd's room was the greatest hang out spot. You loved to just lay on his bed, a raccoon curled up on your lap or stomach and listen to Judd work on his manifesto. Sometimes he would share what he was writing about and that led to the best long philosophical conversations, something you treasured very much.

But it seemed today your boyfriend was not in the mood. He was not working on his manifesto, no, he was tinkering with something at his table. You automically layed down on his bed and immediately a racoon climbed through the window, hobbled to you and fell flat on the bed against your side. You reached down and pet its head while sighing in content. It has been a long day for you and you were glad to finally be at peace. And after a while you made the grave mistake that caused all this, you asked "Whatcha working on?"

"What's it to you bitch?"Judd shot back. Now, you were used to him calling you derogatory names, usually it had a softer context, hell, sometimes, in more heated situations you even liked it, but now it just seemed...mean. You were confused "Wel sorry mr. Secretive, didn't mean to invade your privacy." you retorted sarcastically. Judd just scoffed, but didn't say anything. "Ok, what's gotten into you?" you sat up, the raccoon next to you looking up at you, because it didn't feel your hand on its head anymore.

"Nothing, leave me alone." your boyfriend growled. You sat up, crossing your legs, the raccoon shifting and snuggling into your thigh "Wanna tell me what's wrong?" Judd slammed his hands on the table "Are ou deaf or stupid?!" he shouted. "Well sorr for trying to solve this like a normal person." you drawled. "The only thing you're doing is being a basic bitch." he scoffed. You shrugged your shoulders and threw your hands up "If you're not in the mood, you could've just said so, instead of being so bitchy."

"You're so pathetic." Judd shook his head. That pissed you off. "And you're insufferable!!" You jumped from the bed, yelling. The racoon jumped up in fright, disappearing quickly again through the window. Judd looked surprised for a second, before a dark frown grew on his handsome face "What do you mean?" he growled.

"Don't you see what I'm trying to do here? Did ou even notice anytime I tried to talk to you? Tried to ask your opinion? Tried to get you to open up to me, like a partner should? Did you ever think that it's beccause I care about you?" you spew out, arms gesturing wildly. You took a shak breath, continuing in a calmer matter "I know you don't like to talk. I know I can't push you to anything. I know I don't have the right to. But sometimes, sometimes I feel like you, feel like you're not even triyng. But I care about you so, so much. So much that it hurts."

You thought maybe, maybe this was the moment that would open his eyes, that this would be the end of this unnecessary argument.

"You're so stupid."

And that was the only answer you got. The chalice overflowed. You stomped out of the room, muttering a Go fuck yourself... Judd's way.

And that's how you ended up here. Your tears blurred our vision, which made our journey home quite dangerous, since you were on a bike. You tried to wipe your eyes angrily while trying to maintain your balance. Suddenly, the roaring of a car engine could be heard behind you. Great, just what I needed, you thought. Luckilly, the car decided to pass you.

Except that it wasn't just any car. But you realized that only when it decided to randomly stop right in front of you, almost making you crash into the back of it with your bike. You could recognize the car anywhere, especially when its owner picked you up from school with it so many times. Judd.

He climbed out of the car, the scowl stil on hi face. But the look in his eyes screamed quiet guilt. "(Y/N), listen," he started, but ou had enough. Now he wanted to talk? "No, shut the fuck up Birch." you snapped at him and tried to get past him on your bike. But Judd grabbed your arm, making you lose your balance. Before you could hit the ground, Judd caught your upper half, making your bike awkwardly tumble to the ground, your legs tangling up in it.

"Wait you dumbass." Judd said and looked down. But before you could get mad at him, he slowly looked you at you and said "I'm...sorry...that I was an asshole." You were shocked. Never before have you heard Judd apologize to anyone and ou didn't think him to be the tpe to do so. That's why you couldn't help but stare at him with an open mouth. "Stop gaping at me like a fish and say something!" your boyfriend growled.

You shook your head "Right, sorry, I just...nevermind. Anyway, I'm sorry too. I don't want to push you into doing something you don't want. But I think I got anxious. We seriously need to talk about these things, as lame as it may sound to you." you shrugged. "It's not lame, I'm just...I don't have any excuse. I swear I'll try." Judd said and pulled you into a tight hug, which you gladly returned. Judd smirked "Besides, the racoons are more disciplied since we're together." You laughed and punched him in the shooulder lightly "You're a dumbass."

"Yeah, I guess."

#big mouth #big mouth judd birch #judd birch #judd birch x reader #judd birch x you #big mouth x reader #big mouth x you

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babydaddyleorio · 3 years

Note

hi hope ur doing well! still love reading ur aominexreader! 🥺 could i request for an angst n fluff where s/o n him got into an fight n s/o gets really upset n he reassure them that he’s not going to leave nnn they resolve it hehe

I am, thanks for asking <3 and here you go, It might be a little long x

Pride was such a dangerous emotion.

Aomine could tell you that right now as he sat in his car, head thrown back against his seat with an unmoving frown etched onto his lips. He had his eyes scrunched shut as he recalled the events that had just transpired moments ago, his mind replaying the fresh scene behind his closed lids as if to be rewatching a tragic movie.

You had been sitting next to Aomine with your fists balled tightly in your lap, along with warm tears threatening to escape from your narrowed eyes. Aomine had forgotten your anniversary, typical of him but still irksome that you’ve grown to expect as much. It wasn’t a huge deal at first, but it seemed that as of lately, you were always slipping Aomine’s mind.

“Why are you making this bigger than it has to be?” Aomine groaned loudly while slowly rubbing his temples. You scoffed at his belittling question, and his complete disregard of the principal of his actions seemed to only fuel your overdue anger. Aomine always played this card when you tried to vent to him, making you feel dramatic for expressing yourself as his tone merely remained nonchalant.

“Because you don’t pay attention to me anymore!” You spat through gritted teeth. “How the hell could you forget our anniversary?”

Aomine scoffed while rolling his eyes, a bitter laugh falling from his lips.

“I have more important things on my mind to worry about.”

You stared at him, with a mixture of astonishment and disgust painted across your face. Him saying that so confidently was enough confirmation to see that he truly didn’t care about your relationship, and you shook your head while clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“You know what, I’m done.” You seethed, attaching your hand to the handle beside you and swinging the door of the car open. Being next to him would only serve to make you even more angry, so you chose to remove yourself from the situation before it could get worse. However, another thought crossed your mind just as you were about to get out, causing your movements to pause.

“Oh, and here’s your gift.” You voiced mockingly before harshly throwing the small box from your pocket at his chest, eyes blazing with hurt. “But you wouldn’t care, since you have more important things to worry about, right?”

You tsked under your breath one last time before slamming the door with all the force you could muster, causing the car to shake violently and Aomine’s face to fall in a glare. He slowly grabbed the box that had smacked against his body and unraveled the bow tied around it, lifting the top to reveal the gift you had given him.

A note dropped into his lap.

Aomine curled an eyebrow before reading it.

'Words cannot describe how much you mean to me. I am so proud of you and I'm glad to have you in my life. I love you and I hope you enjoy your gift. -Y/N'

The gift was a watch, a watch that Aomine had been wanting for as long as he could remember. You must’ve been paying attention to him, remembering the very thing he had been saving up for and beaming about most.

Aomine's eyebrows furrowed deeply.

It was at that moment, reading your note and looking at the glimmering piece of jewelry resting in his lap, that Aomine knew he had messed up.

“Dammit.” Aomine muttered quietly before slapping his hand against the steering wheel, a shout bubbling from the depths of his throat. “Dammit!”

Aomine felt stupid, like a massive jerk for how he had behaved just then. The realization of his negligence to consider your feelings seeped into his focus, and despite how much pride he had, he knew in his heart that he had to set this situation straight. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

He threw open his door and stepped out of his car before jogging to your house. His fist drummed against the wood of your door, a look of urgency sprawled across his face.

“Y/n, open up.” He waited a few moments, impatiently tapping his foot against the gravel ground before moving to knock again. “Come on, please just talk to me.”

“Go away, Aomine.” You mumbled from inside your home, arms crossed against your chest as you rested your back against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” He admitted regretfully, his shoulders slumped as he looked at his shoes. “What I said and did back there was completely out of line.”

You laughed bitterly at his words before shaking your head.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” You answered, sounding more colder than you imagined in your head. Then again, It was going to take a lot more than a half-assed apology to win you back.

Aomine sucked in a deep breath, scowling angrily at your doormat.

“Look, I’ve been a shitty boyfriend, alright? I haven’t been putting you first like I should, and I realize now how stupid I was to neglect you. You didn’t deserve any of that!” Aomine shouted while clenching his hands to his sides.

There was a momentary silence as Aomine slowly leaned his forehead against the door.

“I opened your gift... you remembered how much I wanted that watch. You even wrote a note, telling me that you were proud of me, It's weird because I haven't heard someone say that to me in a long time, you know?"

Aomine sighed quietly before closing his eyes.

"You put your heart into that, and I just stepped all over it, huh?”

You remained silent, looking towards the ceiling as his question lingered in the air.

“I’ve always wondered why the hell you put up with me. I’ve heard the conversations you’ve had with you friends, them telling you how much you should leave me and what not. I always expect you to too, but then I hear you take up for me. You always take up for me.”

Aomine’s eyes had become glazed.

“You still put up with me even after what everyone thinks of me, even after my lack of attention. I realize now It wasn't just the anniversary, but It was everything I should've cared more about. And you don’t have to forgive me, I respect It if you want to end things here too, but I just want you to know that I'm sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me.”

After some moments passed, you heavily got up from your criss-crossed position on your carpet and reached to open the door, coming face to face with Aomine now on his knees, looking up at you with tears falling from his eyes while gripping the gift you had given him to his chest. You were taken aback by how distraught he was, especially since he never let you see him become this vulnerable.

“Why are you crying?” You asked, slowly bending down to meet his level.

“Because I fucked up.” He swore while shaking his head, his eyes crimson and voice now shaky. “And It hurts to know that I lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me, dummy.” You sighed before stepping forward, reaching your hand to wipe his tears. Aomine quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you against his chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt tightly in his fingers.

“I promise I won't let you down this time.” Aomine assured into your shoulder before moving back to stare into your eyes, leaning his forehead against yours. "I promise I will make it up to you."

Aomine squeezed you in his arms, savoring the feeling of having you this close to him.

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Father of Mine – 1/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: Family death, cancer, absent father, cremation

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

“Do you want to say anything before we…” the operator asked her.

“No,” Y/N answered quickly.

“Oh, my assistant forgot to give you this,” the operator gave her a shy smile as he handed her a small cardboard box.

She opened it to find all of her mother’s jewelry that had been on her body at the funeral.

“Thank you,” Y/N told him.

“Ready?” The operator asked.

He had been so kind throughout the whole process. It was obvious he was used to people breaking down and being extremely emotional.

But Y/N had been stoic, almost concerningly so.

Though he wasn’t one to judge. Everyone grieved differently.

With the pull of a handle, Y/N watched her mother’s body going into the chamber.

“It will be a few hours,” the operator told her.

He meant it will it will take a few hours for her mother’s body to burn to ash. Then they would hand her a tacky vase with her remains.

Y/N just nodded. “I’ll go for a walk.”

As soon as she was outside, Y/N called her mother’s executor.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I was just about to call you.”

“I’m at the crematory,” she told him. “I figured we should discuss the bills that still need to be paid for.”

“Yes, of course. As I mentioned to you before, your mother’s life insurance covers quite a lot of it…” his words died out.

“But it’s still not enough,” Y/N finished for him. “I’ll get the money.”

She wasn’t exactly rich, but she also wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck. But people never realized how much money it cost for loved ones to die. It was honestly ridiculous.

“You might want to consider taking out a loan,” he tried to suggest gently.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Another thing, Ms. Y/L/N. There was an envelope with a name on it. And your mother left instructions on delivering the envelope to them.”

She stopped her pacing.

“What name is on the envelope?” Y/N asked.

There was a pause.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Of course she knew who Bruce Wayne was – everyone in Gotham did, as well as most of the country. He was a billionaire playboy, only making headlines when he was a mess. But every once in awhile his philanthropy would sneak in there. Y/N always assumed those were only to help recover his image and not because he was a good person.

“You still there?” The executor asked.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit confused. But please pass it along to him, if that’s what my mom wanted.”

“I can’t. The instructions specifically say for you to deliver the envelop to him in person.”

“In person?” Y/N groaned in annoyance as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why did all of this have to be so god damn complicated?

“Yes. Her instructions are…oddly specific."

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll pick up everything from your office before the work day ends.”

——————

Y/N stared at the envelop that she’d tossed on her coffee table as she sipped a rather large glass of red wine.

She was wracking her brain trying to think of a time when her mom mentioned knowing Bruce Wayne. But Y/N would’ve remembered her mom saying his name – even in passing. It’s not a name that one can drop casually.

Y/N pulled up her phone and googled him. But she looked at his history. Yes, he was from Gotham, as was her mom, but so were 10 million other people.

But then Y/N’s scrolling paused when she realized they went to the same high school: Gotham Academy. Not only that, they graduated in the same year.

‘Were they friends?’ Y/N wondered.

But just classmates or friends still didn’t seem to warrant a handwritten letter to be delivered after one’s death.

Y/N didn’t open the envelope.

Her mother’s instructions specifically told her not to. And if she put in that much of an effort to get this done after her death, Y/N wasn’t going to ignore such a request.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Fuck,” Y/N sighed before throwing back the rest of her wine.

——————

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t grant you access to the building without your name being in the system by the company you’re visiting,” the building receptionist told her for the third time.

“I understand. But I called his office 30 fucking times and they refuse to put me through to him or get me an appointment,” Y/N practically growled.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I already called their office to say you were here and they didn’t recognize your name. I can’t let you through to the elevators.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to the security guard who stood a few feet away. He was eyeing her now that there was clearly an argument going on.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. She had a good foot on him – even without her heels on. And he looked like he couldn’t run a 50 yard dash without passing out or vomiting. If he thought he was going to physically stop her, he had another thing coming.

“Listen, I am not some crazy fucking stalker. My mom knew Bruce Wayne and in her will she asked me to deliver this to him,” Y/N’s voice lowered and became disturbingly calm. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the security guard finally stepped forward.

“Oh, fuck off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the rent-a-cop.

“Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he continued.

“Call me ma’am one more fucking time…” Y/N growled.

But the security guard was taking a step to her.

“Excuse me. What seems to be the problem here?” A voice suddenly interrupted.

Everyone turned to see a young man – younger than Y/N – glaring at the security guard just as he was about to grab Y/N.

“M-Mr. Drake, we were just escorting this young woman from the premises,” the guard stuttered out.

Everyone at the building knew every member of the Wayne family. But unlike his siblings, Tim Drake was at the office almost every day. As one should be when they’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“For what reason?” Tim Drake asked.

“She insists on seeing Mr. Wayne. But she doesn’t have an appointment. For security reasons, I cannot let her through, obviously, unless the company she is visiting has put her into their system and the building’s system,” the receptionist explained nervously.

Y/N frowned as if she was bored of the whole thing.

Tim stepped forward. “May I ask what your business with Bruce Wayne is?”

Now that he was closer, Y/N noticed how exhausted he looked. He was handsome still, of course. But she wondered when he last got a good night’s sleep. He was shorter than her, probably standing at 5’5. And she still believed he was younger than her, which was wild seeing as he was already the CEO and couldn’t be older than 24.

Y/N sighed before she grabbed the envelope from her black leather satchel, and showed that Bruce Wayne’s name was handwritten on it.

“My mother wished me to personally deliver this to him.”

Tim tilted his head slightly. “Why isn’t she doing it?”

“Because she’s dead,” she shot back without emotion.

But Tim’s face became sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve assumed…”

“It’s fine,” Y/N quickly cut him off before he could continue.

She was so tired of being on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. It didn’t help. And the words stopped holding any meaning to her.

“But I’m sorry. Bruce isn’t in today. And he probably won’t be coming to the office for the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” was all she responded with.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn’t come to work. Why would he?

This was a stupid idea. And now she had made a scene because of it.

“But if you give me your information, I will personally let him know that you are trying to reach him.”

“Really?” Y/N asked in shock.

Tim smiled at her surprise. “Of course.”

“Here’s my card,” she quickly grabbed one from her wallet and then a pen. “All my info is on that.” She wrote something on the back. “And that’s my mom’s name.”

He took it from her and nodded. “What was your mother’s relationship with Bruce?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Apparently they graduated in the same high school class. But that’s all I was able to find.”

He nodded.

“Thank you…Mr. Drake. For your help. Really,” she urged.

“Please, it’s just Tim.” Then he glared at the receptionist and security guard. “For you it is, at least.”

“Thank you again,” Y/N felt like saying it 30 more times still wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t have to thank me. Someone will be in touch. Have a good day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” she corrected with a smile before she nodded and started backing away.

He smiled at her correction and gave a final nod.

——————

Y/N didn’t expect to hear from anyone for at least a week.

If the Wayne family was one thing, it was busy.

They probably had parties to go to, meetings to attend, private jets taking them around the world whenever they wished.

Why would they ever prioritize a meeting with her, a stranger?

So imagine her surprise when she received a call from an unrecognized number the same day she gave Tim Drake her card.

“Hello?” She answered.

Usually she would let any unknown number go to voicemail.

“Hello,” a British voice answered. “Am I speaking with Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she,” Y/N sat up straighter on her couch.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne and manage all his personal appointments. I was told by Master Tim that you wished to meet with him?”

“Uhhh. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that…is that possible?”

“Would you be able to stop by Wayne Manor on Friday afternoon?”

Y/N already knew she had nothing going on that would stop her from getting this done. But she still paused to pretend to think about it.

“Yes, Friday afternoon should be fine. Are you sure he doesn’t just want me to stop by Wayne Enterprises?”

It felt oddly intimate to stop by Wayne Manor. Wouldn’t they want to meet her in a more secure location like a corporate building with security that already hated her?

“He is quite certain. Should I send a car for you Ms. Y/L/N?”

A car?

Y/N felt even more out of her depth now.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thanks,” she answered before hanging up and realizing that probably wasn’t the proper response to such a polite goodbye.

——————

“I haven’t heard that name since high school,” Bruce had muttered as he stared at the business card for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and the end of your relationship did not end on the best of terms,” Alfred commented.

Y/M’s/N Y/L/N had been Bruce’s high school sweetheart.

An she had seen the last moments of Bruce’s normal life.

Upon graduation, Bruce decided to leave Gotham and that’s how his second life was founded. The two of them broke up before the summer after graduation had even ended.

Well, “Breakup” was a strong word.

Bruce stopped answering her calls.

She was his first love and he continued to love her.

But once Bruce realized where his life was going and who he wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t drag her into it. She deserved better.

And Bruce was a coward about relationships then. Maybe he still was.

“I am certain you did a thorough background check on her already,” Alfred commented with a smirk.

Bruce took in a breath before listing off all of her accomplishments. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated number one in her class at Gotham Academy. She was the star of the track team, breaking the regional record for fastest time in 100m, 200m, and 400m races. Also captain of her soccer team. Attended NYU’s photography program before dropping out after a year. Now she’s a professional photography. Her work’s been featured in Vogue, New York Times, National Geographic…amongst others.”

“Rather an impressive woman,” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded.

“I should get the tea and coffee ready for her arrival.” And with that, Alfred left Bruce in the drawing room.

30 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Bruce glanced down at his watch: she was right on time.

He heard Alfred saying his pleasantries before he heard the clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner to enter the room he was waiting in.

For being a famous photographer, she could’ve been a runway model with her height and the way she walked into the room, completely owning it. She wore four-inch heels, only adding to her natural tallness. And her bright, red coat only added to her presence.

For a split second, Bruce was convinced that he was looking at an Amazon. Diana immediately flashed into his mind for a split second. Perhaps that was what Y/M’s/N needed help with: to get her daughter to her real people. But how would she have known Bruce Wayne had such connections? Unless she knew Batman’s true identity…

As soon as Y/N spotted him in the room, he rose from his seat.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Bruce greeted.

He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“You guys really love the formalities.” She said it with a dark evenness, but it was clearly a joke. “Y/N is fine, Mr. Wayne,” she added as she shook his hand.

“In that case, it’s Bruce,” he countered with a soft smirk.

There was something so familiar about her. But Bruce knew they’d never met.

“Thank you for seeing me. I don’t want to waste anymore of your time,” Y/N quickly got to it. She opened her purse to grab the envelope.

“My mom wanted you to have this. And she wanted to make sure I was the one to give it to you,” Y/N explained as she offered it to him.

Bruce took it carefully, but didn’t open it. “Yes, I heard about her passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, making it obvious to Bruce that she did not want nor need his condolences.

Bruce nodded slowly.

There was a pause.

“Do you know what it says?” He asked her lightly.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to read it.”

“I see.”

“I should really be going. I have a flight to catch later tonight.” Most people that visited Wayne Manor wished to stay there forever. Or their curiosity got the best of them and their eyes took in every little detail.

But Y/N looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. And she wanted to get out as soon as she possibly could.

“Thank you again for seeing me,” she rushed out.

Without waiting for his answer, Y/N turned and started walking out of the room.

But she only got a few steps before she stopped.

Bruce watched her shoulders tense and her body move as she was clearly taking in deep breath.

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face him.

“Were you friends?”

Bruce gave her a watery smile. “She was my girlfriend in high school.”

Y/N seemed annoyed by that answer. “She never mentioned you. Not once.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at that and his eyes zoned out as if he was revising the past in his mind. “I’m not entirely surprised. Things didn’t really end well between us.”

She nodded slowly. “Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.”

And Y/N turned and strutted out of the room without looking back.

As soon as Bruce heard her cab drive away, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter.

He barely noticed that Dick had walked into the room. “May I ask…Who was the extremely attractive and tall woman that just walked out?”

But Bruce didn’t hear him as his eyes raced across the letter. His heart sped as he continued reading.

“Bruce?” Dick asked after being ignored. “Is she your next conquest or what?”

It wasn’t until Bruce was done reading the letter for the third time that he finally looked up and acknowledged Dick.

Alfred had also walked into the room, unbeknownst to Bruce.

“You OK?” Dick asked, now concerned with how silent Bruce had become.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred also urged.

“That was…my daughter,” Bruce finally muttered.

Dick blinked before his eyes grew wide in shock.

Alfred seemed less surprised, almost as if he had already put that together.

“Excuse me,” Bruce told them and exited the room.

———

Dick and Alfred must’ve warned the rest of the family not to bother Bruce in the cave. Usually he would’ve been disturbed by now.

Bruce had been at the computer for hours.

Alfred was the first person to come down, carrying a tray with dinner and tea.

The butler wasn’t surprised to find Y/N’s face all over the screens.

If Bruce had left any available information hidden before inviting Y/N to the manor, it was all out there now. Bruce knew everything about Y/F/N Y/L/N that was public knowledge – probably even some things that were not.

“You know, you did not seem all that surprised,” Bruce said to Alfred as he put the tray of food down next to him.

“Seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?”

Bruce quickly turned to look at him. “It did?”

Alfred smirked. “Her eyes,” was all he said.

“The color?”

Alfred shook his head. “As soon as she walked into the manor, they were reading me.” He tilted his head in Bruce’s direction. “Observation. Perception. Attention to detail...That is all you, Master Wayne.”

“The way she held herself,” Alfred continued, "Shoulders held back, head high, walking with purpose. No hesitation.”

“Also me?” Bruce asked.

Alfred simply nodded.

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” Bruce sighed.

He didn’t know how he felt about that yet.

“A lot of people think you don’t like them when you first meet them,” Alfred countered. “Because I don’t trust them yet.”

Alfred raised his brows and silently ask him, ‘Don’t you see my point?’

Bruce rubbed his face and reached for the tea on the tray, ignoring all the food.

“I don’t know why you’re so entertained by this, Alfred.”

“Yes, I was entertained. I just saw a younger, female version of you, Master Wayne.”

“I abandoned her,” Bruce shot.

“You didn’t know she existed,” Alfred corrected.

“And why do you think that is?”

Alfred’s face dropped a little bit when he noticed the envelope discarded on the far end of Bruce’s desktop.

He looked down at the ground as he asked, “Might I ask what the letter said?”

Bruce glared at the letter as if touching it would burn him.

But after a moment, he grabbed it and quickly handed it to Alfred.

Bruce,

If this letter has finally reached you, it is because I have passed.

I must admit that I wrote this letter mostly in the event that I leave my daughter before she is an adult. But once Y/N turned 18, I decided to still pass this along to you.

There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will get to the point.

The young woman who delivered this letter to you is your daughter, Bruce.

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was only 18. We had just graduated high school. You had started traveling. You called less and less. And you grew more distant – physically and emotionally. Eventually, you stopped answering my calls altogether. I left you a voicemail, only saying that I so desperately needed to talk to you, that I needed you.

But you never called me back.

With no words at all, you made it very clear that you no longer wanted anything to do with me.

But there I was, a teenager who was pregnant with our child.

I would be lying if I said I never considered terminating my pregnancy. I was scared and you broke my heart. All I wanted to do was erase you from my life.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Once I decided what my future was going to be, I also decided that I did not want you to have any part in it.

I knew even if you pretended to play the doting father and the committed partner, you would grow tired of us eventually. You would resent me and our child for bringing you down. And you would brush us aside for yourself.

I realized I would rather Y/N have no father at all than one who would only disappoint her over and over again.

To this day, I truly believe I did the right thing for all three of us.

There are not enough words to explain the complicated woman that Y/N grew up to be. But I will try my best. I think I owe you that at least.

Or maybe you have no interest.

I don’t know how she became so much like you, even when I never so much as showed her a picture of you or uttered your name.

She enjoys being alone – almost to her own detriment. I constantly catch her repressing her feelings, always staying strong for everyone else. It reminds me of you. She’s assertive and confident, never letting anything stand in the way of what she wants. Sometimes I don’t think she’s scared of anything. It worries me, just like it worried me when I thought the same of you.

I truly don’t know what you will do with this information.

But…if you have any desire to form some sort of relationship with her, then you should know this: she will not make it easy for you. She will push you away. And she might even hate you. I raised her to never need a man in her life, and she’ll make sure you know that.

I don’t expect anything from you. I never did.

But I would just like to know there might be someone who will be there for her should she need them.

Goodbye, Bruce.

Alfred slowly handed the letter back to Bruce when he was finished.

“I pushed her away because I knew what I was about to become,” Bruce explained darkly. “And I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She would’ve been in danger.”

“Y/N, as well,” Alfred added.

“But had I known…if I just listened to her–”

“Master Wayne, I thought we had agreed to never linger on the ‘what ifs.’”

That sure silenced Bruce.

“Now, what do you plan on doing, Master Wayne?”

———

Y/N frowned when her phone started vibrating and she recognized the name of her mom’s executor on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” She was quick, wanting to get this over with. Surely, he had bad news. Another medical bill came in or some other expense that slipped by them.

“Good, good. Just curious…have you placed any payments to our various claims?”

“Uhhh…no. But I’m working on it.”

Y/N hadn’t expected to get a call nagging about paying bills.

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. They’ve all been paid,” the executor explained.

Y/N sat up straighter in her chair. “What? That’s not possible.”

“An anonymous donor. They somehow got record of all your outstanding payments and covered all of them.”

Y/N was stunned to silence.

“Ms. Y/L/N…this is a good thing.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Right. Yes, of course. I just…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank this guardian angel of yours.”

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

Part 2

Let me know what you think!!!

#bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batfam #batman #batman x daughter!reader #dad!bruce wayne #dad!batman #batman family #batman universe #batman angst #bruce wayne angst #alfred pennyworth #father!bruce wayne #father!batman

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imaginethatimaginethis · 2 years

Note

Hello, dear :) I hope u r okay. Can I request quote 19 from your recent list? With Changkyun, please. I would like a little angst with a fluffy ending. Tysm for your work ❤️❤️❤️

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request! i hope, you like this im sorry for this not having a fluffy ending i was so immersed so if you don’t like it please let me know and i will write you another one.. (feedback is very much appreciated, if you don’t like it and if you like it)

im really unsure about this so i hope it’s good

i never proof read what i write bc as soon as i re read what i wrote, i immediately hate it and delete it. so scusi for any typos.

19. “If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.” - Changkyun

it was too cold to even say a word as the piercingly pain shot through your body. it felt like a thousand knives hitting the thousands of emotions that were inside you as they started to bleed.

your voice was even too sore to scream but all the energy left inside you made you take control of what was left for you.

“please, i’m begging you, please, he’s all that i have” you sobbed and with the last strength you tried to pull him out of the officers tight hands.

“miss please let go before we have to escort you out as well”

your arms were strongly grabbed by an police man that was coming behind you, holding you while they escorted your boyfriend into the car.

“miss we have to take you with us for a few questions” you pulled yourself away from the police man and ran to the car, trying to open the door and hitting the glass.

“please open, please please i’m begging you. he did nothing wrong please”

the engine of the car turned on and the only thing you saw was changkyun mouthing ‚i love you‘ before the car started driving away. you tried your best as you run behind it, falling on your knees as you cried out.

that was the only memory you had on this day, and you still don’t know what exactly happened until this date. so fast but so slow.

you opened an envelope, the fifth one this week as you scanned over it.

‚my dearest‘ this is how the letter started. unable to continue you placed the letter back on the table next to your coffee.

you sighed, rubbing over your face once more and when you eyes fell on the small box filled with letters you started crying softly.

3 years and 7 month, that’s how long you’ve kept the very first letter that’s in the box and from this, the letters piled up from week to week.

grabbing the letter from the table you started reading again.

‚my dearest, my love, the only thing that’s in my mind,

i don’t know how to start this letter, even though i always have something to write about that happened in my day. but i feel like this time i don’t really want to tell you about my day.

all these years have felt like a bad dream that i am just not waking up to. no matter what i’m doing it’s always the same bed, the same cell, the same people around me, the same four walls.

i cannot describe you how empty i’m feeling that this has gotten out of control. this was never something i wanted you to see. this was never the life for you, my love.

i feel like this is even to late but i’ve come to the realization that i am ruining your life with this. almost 4 years, and you cannot even visit me. the letters i write to you, the only thing that’s still keeping us from ending it all. i know that you’re reading them and i know that your reading this as well with the strength that’s left in you. i know.

i just wish i could stop your pain and hold you again. smell your sweet perfume and finally feel whole again. finally feel like a human who has his life together and you by my side. but i will probably never have the chance to. it’s not my right to mentally hold you hostage in my heart.

please understand that i would still, with my whole being, do everything and anything for you. i’d shake the world for you but my love, my dearest this has to stop.

i can not longer go to sleep knowing that you would wait another 10 years for me, ruining your life for someone like me. this is not how you are supposed to live. this is not the fate that was destined for you.

i will, maybe one day, come out of here and continue with my life but i will be another man. a man that was forgotten by the world, a forgotten soul. and i do not want you to wait at the gate for me. i do not want you to have my outcome as a goal in your life.

that’s why this will be my last letter to you.

so baby, go ahead, live your life, be the greatest person you already are and strive to be better, enjoy the life that was designed for your heart.

i will still have you in my heart but you will be free and i know, i know that it’s not going to be easy for you. but i want you to try. i know this is hard but please promise me to keep me next to your heart as well.

because if you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

forever your heart,

changkyun‘

the letter fell from your hands as you pushed your knees further to your face and sobbed harder, wondering how much more you would have to cry until you’re dried out and pass out on the floor.

and once again it felt like a thousand knives hitting the thousands of emotions that were inside you as you felt your body started to bleed this time, it tried to bleed all of your sadness away.

#monsta x #monsta x drabble #monsta x imagines #monsta x fluff #changkyun #monsta x reader #monsta x scenarios #monsta x angst #changkyun x you #changkyun drabble #changkyun imagines #changkyun scenarios #changkyun smut #changkyun au #changkyun x reader #changkyun angst #changkyun fluff

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douxie-casperan · 3 years

Text

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

#Ooc - Behind the curtains #Rise of the Titans #Rise of the Titans spoilers #RotT Spoilers #RoT spoilers #Wizards #Tales of Arcadia #ToAWizards #Hisirdoux Casperan #Douxie Casperan

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yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

ETERNAL - v

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; smoking, mature conversations

➳ word count ; 3k

➳ note ; Thank you for your patience!

masterlist

Fear is a fist that clutches your heart, reminding you of its presence each time it tightens its grip. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but you can feel the strength in its hold; the raging tendons wrapped around your tender organ that strain with each heartbeat. A singular emotion controlling your very pulse.

Cigarette smoke billows into the indigo hour of the night, and you find yourself unable to pry the fingers away.

The air on the balcony is cold, but it envelops you in a comforting embrace; it’s a soft coolness, as opposed to the harsh, biting climate of the desert that you’ve become accustomed to. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, but you don’t feel the need to scratch at yourself, to tear the skin from your flesh. It makes you feel alive, even if the definition of that word has changed for you.

Evidence of your newfound immortality, if that’s what you can call it, dangles between your fingers, ashes falling to the ground several storeys below with each gentle tap. It tastes terrible⎯⎯a bitter flavour of death in every pull⎯⎯but it serves its purpose for now. It keeps you grounded, gives you something to focus on other than the slowly growing anxiety that still holds strong in your chest.

Behind you, the balcony door slides open, startling the silent air with its soft drag.

“You’re up late,” Namjoon says. He speaks soft, low, as if hesitant to disturb you. “Or early, I guess. Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

You breathe out a puff of smoke, watching as it dissipates into the darkness. “I’m not.” He steps into your periphery, leaning on the metal railing beside you. “I just needed...something. Found them hidden away in the bookshelf.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Figures. We’re usually a non-smoking household, but sometimes the boys get sneaky. Pass me one?”

You hand him the box. Only two cigarettes left. He brings one to dangle between his lips and, without asking, you hand him a lighter. It takes him three tries, and then he’s sighing smoke into the air as well.

“Thought you were a non-smoking household.”

“We are. Stinks up the place, and it tastes disgusting. But. When in Rome.”

“You calling me Rome?”

He chuckles, but doesn’t answer. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, despite knowing that he isn’t looking at you. “Too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

He blends in with the shadows, slightly, though the peaks of his cheekbones catch the dull light that glows through the mist of pollution. “I get that. Would you rather me talk?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Not really.”

So he stays. Until the embers begin to burn your fingertips; until you’re snuffing your cigarette on the metal rail. You don’t think you’ll smoke again. You suppose it doesn’t matter, though. There’s forever ahead of you to change your mind.

Sunlight is just beginning to illuminate the buildings around you when Namjoon speaks up again. He stubbed his own cigarette before it was even halfway done.

“I’m sure you’re curious,” he says. “About us, about the situation, about everything. And we’ll tell you as much as we can, but...There are some things the boys won’t feel comfortable telling you about just yet. We’ve lived long lives. We’ve done good things and bad things; experienced things we’re proud of and things that haunt us. We may not die, but we’re still human. I hope that you don’t mind being patient with us.”

Your heart aches a little at the melancholy in his tone, as if you wouldn’t give the world for these seven men after knowing them just a day. It feels as if your soul has missed them for a lifetime.

“Namjoon.” He turns to face you, now, and a halo of soft light glows around his face. “I don’t know what you’ve all been through, and frankly, it’s none of my business. If you want to tell me something, I know that you’ll do it in your own time. I’ve got the rest of my life to get to know you all, okay? There’s no rush.”

His smile starts as a twitch, a quirked corner of his lips, but quickly grows wide. Relieved.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he says. He offers no elaboration, no further words, but you think you know what he means. Because you’re glad it’s him, too. You’re glad it’s them.

With breakfast comes clarity. As you sit at the large dining table, bowls of rice, soup, and several plates of banchan steaming into the morning air, you find yourself feeling calmer than you have since your death. It’s as though the raging tides of emotions⎯⎯uncertainty, confusion, downright fear⎯⎯have finally quelled into a tranquil body of water. There is sure to be a ripple sooner or later, but for now, it is completely still.

Yoongi, the cook of this morning’s feast, takes the first bite, and the rest of you follow. There is so much that you want to say, so many questions that you want to speak into existence, but the bitter taste of apprehension bleeds through even the delicious taste of your meal. You feel like you might choke on it⎯⎯the taste and your words both⎯⎯but your throat closes before you can even swallow.

Ah. There is the awaited ripple.

Perhaps it is the hours of silent companionship, or simply his centuries of wisdom, but Namjoon seems to sense your internal struggle. “If there’s anything you want to ask us, Y/N, go ahead. We’ll answer to the best of our abilities.”

Your throat eases and your tastebuds return to normal. “Well…” Where do you begin? What questions do you ask potentially ancient beings? “I guess let’s start with what this,” you wave a finger around the table, at the seven other sets of eyes who watch you patiently, “is. The situation.”

Namjoon nods slowly. It seems he’ll be taking charge for this conversation, much to the visible relief of the others. “Even we aren’t completely certain of what exactly this is,” he says. “From what we’ve learned, our death granted us immortality, or something to that degree. We cannot die, nor can we get majorly injured. Any wounds heal quickly, and any illnesses metabolise out of our system before they can affect us.”

You nod. All of this you were already aware of.

“As for this,” he continues. He looks around the group, fighting back a fond smile. “We’re all connected. When someone else becomes like us, we all see visions of each other to help us find them. The same happened with you. You saw visions of us when you slept, and we saw visions of you. That’s how we could find you. The dreams gave us enough information to figure out who you were, and then it was a matter of locating you.”

“Which wasn’t easy, by the way,” Jimin adds, though there is no annoyance. “Your files were so deeply buried that we thought they might not exist. And don’t even get me started on accessing the satellite.”

“You hacked a satellite?” You can’t hide the shock in your tone, and you don’t miss the glint of mischief in Jimin’s eyes.

“That’s not important,” Namjoon says, taking control of the conversation once again. “What’s important is this: the eight of us are intrinsically connected now. We might not get the visions anymore, but we are still linked. The easiest way to describe it is that we’re soulmates, though that might not even be true. We were destined to find each other, to be immortal together. Whether it’s for some higher purpose, or just a random curse, we don’t know. It’s better, I think, if we don’t try and find out that reason.”

Now that confuses you. “Why? Isn’t it human nature to be curious?”

Hoseok scoffs. “I don’t think we fall under the definition of ‘human’ anymore.”

You’ll have to file that away for later.

Namjoon ignores Hoseok, and looks straight at you. “If we become too enveloped in trying to figure out the big ‘why’, we’ll get lost in ourselves. We’ll lose our own sense of purpose. If we were chosen, for whatever reason, then we have to trust that our instincts will guide us to do what is needed.”

“Okay.” You suppose he’s right. “Then, could you tell me how old you all are?”

“We don’t do ages,” Taehyung says. He sounds almost amused. “We know the age we were when we died, but we don’t keep track of how long we’ve lived after that. It’s a rule.”

“Then how about...generally? Who was the first? How did you all die?”

All eyes turn to Namjoon. Honestly, you can’t say you’re surprised.

“I was the first,” he says. A faraway look takes over his eyes, as if lost in the past. Seokjin puts a grounding hand on his shoulder. “I couldn’t figure out my actual age if I tried, but it was...a long time ago. I was the chief of my village. Killed for power. The story isn’t too interesting.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and then Yoongi clears his throat. “I was the second. A slave to some tyrant who thought he was all-powerful. Killed in front of the other slaves to put them in line.” He shrugs, but doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Hoseok is quick to speak next, his words are short and curt. “I was third. Court execution.” He seems reluctant, as if guarding his past behind the tightly-locked gates of his crossed arms, but you mean what you said to Namjoon earlier; you will wait for them. For however long it takes.

Next is Seokjin, and you have a feeling that his theatrics are for Hoseok’s benefit. “I was the lucky fourth, and a king, at that! Though I was only in the position for a few hours, and all public records of it were thrown into the river with my body. Which is a shame, really, because my portraits deserved to be in museums for all to marvel over.”

“Um.” Jeongguk seems nervous, and you see him hide his shaking hands beneath the table. “I was next. I died of...natural causes.”

“And we came as a set,” Taehyung smiles, arm slung over Jimin’s shoulders. “Died at the very same moment, and woke up the same way! We were best friends, right, Jiminie? On the opposite sides of a war, but I loved him with my whole heart.”

Jimin nods, a wistful smile pulling at his cheeks. “I remember thinking that I was so lucky, to die in his arms. To never have to live a single moment without him. And then we found the others, and I thought that I must’ve been in heaven to be so fortunate.”

“We’re all together,” Namjoon elaborates, though it’s unnecessary. A blind man could see the way they feel about each other. “It may be because of circumstance, though I like to think that it’s because we were all meant to be. Like it’s a gift from the universe, allowing soulmates born in different centuries to find each other.”

“And now you,” Jeongguk whispers. His eyes glimmer, hopeful, and so young despite the obvious years he has over you. You wonder why he doesn’t seem as emotionally aged as the others; what could cause him to cling to his youth the way he does. It doesn’t matter, though. If it means he keeps his heart, it will never matter.

“We don’t expect anything from you,” Seokjin says. “Not romantically or even platonically. You are still your own person, and if you don’t want to be a part of this, in any degree, we won’t force it.”

You are thankful for that. It takes away a pressure that you didn’t even know you had until now. The thought that this is a choice⎯⎯a decision that is completely yours to make⎯⎯relieves you to no end. And yet...

“I don’t think that’s a decision I can make right now.” You mindlessly arrange the chopsticks on your now empty plate as you try to summon the right words to explain yourself. “There’s so much that I need to figure out, and so many things that I feel I have to do. I don’t even know if I’ve properly processed the situation yet, or if I’m simply in shock.”

“Is there any way we can help you?” Yoongi, as always, seems so genuine. So heartfelt.

“You already have. So much more than you’d believe.” And it’s true. Independence is your life. You may have been in a team in your old life, a leader of a small group for whom you were responsible, but you were always brought up, always trained, to survive alone. To find comfort in an existence of solitude. Because that’s what the military is; it is removing yourself from others, from the world. You were in a team, sure, but you were all alike in your aloneness. Alone together.

Now, you have this group of men who, without knowing you, have plucked you from your misery and now offer you everything. Offer themselves, their companionship, their help. You are not the one responsible, the one with everything on the line. They have taken that from you with gentle hands, and you give it away gladly. There is not much else that you could ask of them.

Except. Well, maybe there is.

“But…” You trail off, and their eyes just scream patience. You don’t know how they do it, how they’ve grown to be so effortlessly composed and serene, because right now your heart is beating in urgency. It batters against your chest, yelling at you to just ask them, now, but your words falter in sudden uncertainty. They have already given you so much, offered even more; can you truly ask for the help that you now realise you may need?

You look into their eyes again, and know that the answer is yes.

“This mission,” you continue, sitting up straighter. If you speak with confidence, perhaps you’ll start to feel it. “As far as I know, it was never completed. When our team went in, it was under the belief that we’d be able to rescue all of the children safely and relatively unseen. Someone on the inside tipped them off, but they had to have had a reason. They wouldn’t have betrayed us like that unless something was wrong.”

“You speak like you know exactly who it was,” Hoseok says. It isn’t a question, and you see it in his expression that he isn’t necessarily looking for an answer.

You won’t give him one. Not yet. Not until you’ve figured out for yourself why this person would’ve left you for dead. “That isn’t important right now,” you say in lieu of a confirmation. “What matters is that those children are still out there somewhere, and there’s a leak in the operation.” Releasing a deep sigh, you slump down a bit. “I’m going back to the desert, back to the base, and I’m going to save those children. If you would like to help me...that would be really nice.”

“Of course we’ll help,” Jeongguk says, without hesitation. There’s a resoluteness in the set of his jaw that you haven’t seen in him before. “Anything you need. We mean it.”

“We should talk about this plan of yours first, though,” Namjoon says. “As far as the military is concerned, you’re dead. You died with your team. If you go back to your base of operations, that’s just going to open up a whole lot of complications for both sides. They might think that you were the traitor, being the only survivor. We’ll need to operate with a certain level of stealth.”

You were worried about that. Your dog-tags are with the rest of your team’s, your body supposedly burned along with theirs. You won’t be able to reprise the role you previously played in this, and you won’t have the military support that you once had. If you do this, it will be in the shadows, hiding behind corners and turning away from cameras. You are a ghost now. You’ll have to act like one.

“Okay,” you say. “I understand; we need to stay hidden. But there is one person that I need to see face-to-face. I can promise that they won’t do anything to endanger our identities.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Jimin says. “Trust is one thing when you’re alive, but if they’ve been mourning your death, you can’t know for sure how they’ll react.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you affirm. “I trust this person, and I’m going to need you all to trust me.”

Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation. “It isn’t that we don’t trust you,” he says, “but we can’t fully trust the situation. We don’t know this person, whoever they are, or how they’ll use this information against you. Against us.”

“I get it, I do.” You can’t help but sigh. “But this is something that I need to do, and something that I will do regardless of whether I have your permission. I won’t let my decision affect any of you, but if you decide against helping me because of this, I’ll understand.”

Yoongi leans forward. “We’re going to help you.” His tone is final. “And you’re right, this is your decision to make. We just want to make sure that you completely understand what you’re potentially getting yourself into.”

“You are all a lot older than me,” you say, “and obviously much wiser. But I’m an adult too, and I’m mature enough to know that my actions may have consequences. I’m no stranger to making tough decisions, or to taking responsibility. I may not be a Captain by rank anymore, but that doesn’t change who I am.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says. He doesn’t argue, nor does he apologise, but he doesn’t need to. There is a mutual understanding in the way you look at each other, and nothing more needs to be said. “So, what’s the plan?”

You take in a deep breath, and prepare your mind to return to the place you’ve grown to loathe.

< prev - next >

tags: @leafyturtle, @loveyoongles, @paint-music-with-me, @barbikatherine, @itsmorgo1604, @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @veronawrites, @applepie1000, @yoonchrisgullwrites, @ally22042000, @ireallylikefoodandyoutube, @blglmgk01, @basicgukk, @softescapism, @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered, @m1nt-3lla, @hunnayesblog, @rosycheekb, @hemmofluke, @the-bisaster, @katbonv, @borahebangtan, @monodroppp, @skyys-universe

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

A Little Braver - 21

Hello everyone,

as I am about to post, itunes has just started playing the song A Little Braver that i used as an inspiration for this title of this fic. I can’t believe it’s already time for ch 21. One more chapter and Rowan is back.

A few things before I let you go. It’s Lys and Aedion’s wedding. The location used as an inspiration is this: https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/duff-house-p246341 the place is called Duff House and is in Banff, about two hours from where I live. It’s a gorgeous place.

Secondly, I am the worst at describing clothes. so in order to give you an idea of the dress Lys is wearing here we go: https://www.weddingdressfantasy.com/products/light-blue-tulle-wedding-dress.html. (I absolutely detest white wedding dresses)

Thirdly, In the fic you will noticed a first of a Sorscha/Dorian - let me explain. I am not the greatest Manorian fan, to be honest it just leaves meh. Also, in this fic they can’t happen. He is the Chief. she is a firefighter with a chance to become an officer. He is her superior. He just can’t.

And finally, in the conversation with Aelin, Rowan talks a bit about how bad it is. He also goes incommunicado for stretches of time. All I am saying is that parts of this will came back in later chapters when he finally tells her what happened. Only then, we will learn how bad it was.

I think I finished my announcements and I can leave you to the chapter

Aelin’s alarm went off far too early for her taste. Her hand slammed her phone and stopped the annoying sound, then she rolled and hugged again bird Rowan and buried her face in his pillow inhaling his scent in what had become her routine since he had left.

“Good morning, my friend.” She muttered in the pillow then stared at the toy “do we want to go to work?” She groaned and grabbed her phone and found a message from Rowan. It had the picture of a gorgeous red sunrise in the background of a busy flight deck Had a night from hell, but this view lifts my spirits up a bit.

She read the message and panic rose so she tried to phone him and luckily he answered at the first ring.

“Hey,” his voice was strained and Aelin’s heart started to race in fear.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just a bad night and we lost few pilots. I have known them for a very long time and served together a lot as well. Some had wife and kids.” He said very softly, his voice almost broke by the tears he was probably trying not to shed over the phone.

“I am sorry.” Was her pitiful reply but she was not good at consoling people. Then her treacherous mind started telling her that it could have been him and she almost felt sick.

She heard him sigh deeply as an alarm started blaring in the background “I gotta go. Sorry. I will phone you as soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry. I am at work on my usual super long shift.”

“Stay safe,” he said with a worried tone.

“You as well, please. I am getting used having you around the house.”

He chuckled lightly “I enjoy being around the house too.”

Then she heard a voice calling every one to battle station “Fuck. Sorry gotta run. Love you.”

And he hang up after those words, probably sprinting out of his quarters or wherever he was. Even her, in her limited knowledge of military life knew that a call for battle stations was not a good sign. That was what all her sci-fi movies told her.

Aelin took a shower and slowly got dressed for work and mentally prepared herself for another long day, probably a visit to detective Ytger

She arrived at the station not long after and went to her office and Aedion met her there a moment later.

She had received an email from the detective and she had expected the woman to be there already.

“The detective is on her way.” She told her cousin while he sat down.

“Do you think we are in trouble?”

Aelin shrugged “those clubs had to be closed down.”

“I know. I am just worried. He has to know by now that it came from us and I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

She sighed again, meeting his worried stare “you are not alone in that. We probably made a big enemy but he has to pay somehow.”

Aedion was about to reply when a knock on the door interrupted her.

“Come in,”

The door opened and Aelin recognised the detective “sorry, one of your team members showed me to your office, I told them you were expecting me.”

“Take a seat detective, Aedion and I were just catching up.”

She took out a thick folder from the messenger bag she was carrying and placed the file on Aelin’s desk “All we have about Hamel so far, and officer Westfall gave me a report of last night.”

Aelin grabbed a file of her own and passed it to the woman in front of her “before leaving the club I called my relief captain and told him what was happening. He made it pass like an anonymous call but after what I told him and what he discovered it was in our jurisdiction to close the place.”

“It’s in your authority to give him a prohibition notice but as you know as well he has a right to appeal and contest your findings and I have a feeling his lawyers are already at work to stop that.”

“Those places are a disaster waiting to happen. As captain I cannot leave them functioning knowing what I saw last night.”

The woman nodded in understanding “Captain, I am on your side and my superiors agree as well. Hamel has caused enough problems for a long time and needs to be stopped.”

“We can close all of his clubs, but you tell me his lawyers bail him out every time. We cannot win this.”

“We have further leads and a few agents undercover working on them. That’s all I can say. The operation is quite secret.”

“I hope you will succeed, detective.”

“We will keep you in the loop,” she made a movement to stand but paused halfway “Hamel is a nasty customer. Keep an eye out. Just be careful.” She nodded at both of them and then excused herself saying she had to go back to the precinct.

Aelin was about to add something else but Brullo barged in her office all panicked “Cap, Lieutenant, you need to come immediately.”

The two stood quickly and followed the man outside and to the area where the engine and truck were parked. Brullo pointed at something behind the two rigs: a medium-sized parcel.

“We were all in the common room, then I came through here and I saw it. I did not touch it, I came straight to you, sir.”

Aedion nodded “Aelin grab the whole team and get out of here.”

She looked at him in protest.

“As a precaution. This is my area.”

Aelin nodded, if that was an actual bomb he was the only one who could actually do something.

“I’ll call the police and bomb squad.” Aelin took her phone out but Aedion stopped her.

“Not here, remember basic bomb training? Radio signals can trigger it. Grab the team and get out of the firehouse.” He ordered her, that was his field and Aelin would gladly let him take charge.

“Ok, but you be careful, please.”

Aedion nodded and went to get his bomb suit while Aelin and Brullo went to gather the rest of the team and evacuate the premises as asked.

It was half an hour later when Aelin got the all clear from Aedion and ran back to the station with Lysandra just as nervous as she had been.

Aedion had removed his suit and was back in his uniform.

He walked to the two women and nodded at Aelin, confirming that it was a real bomb he had just defused. He then handed her a message that had been taped inside the box.

This is only the beginning. You made a big mistake.

Aelin swore loudly.

“What’s going on?” Asked Lysandra who had no idea of the whole Hamel situation, just like the rest of the team.

“Station meeting,” called Aelin as the rest of the team marched back in.

Aedion took everyone in the communal area while Aelin called detective Ytger to tell her about the bomb they had received. The woman had asked to keep the artefact as proof and that the bomb squad was on its way to collect it to add to their investigation.

She closed the call and joined the rest of the team and braced herself to tell them the truth she and Aedion had omitted for their protection.

“Ok, everyone, I need your attention because what I am about to tell you is quite serious.” She started, staring at her team with dread in her guts.

“Was that a real bomb?” Asked Manon.

Aedion nodded.

“Remember the call we had at the Vaults? Only Aedion and I went in. The kitchen caught fire and two people died. The whole place was not up to code. So Aedion and I confronted the owner who did not seem to care. Threats have been exchanged. Aedion and I started working with the police and the owner of the club is apparently high on the list of criminals to remove from the streets.” She kept telling them, unable to read their emotions “the night of my birthday and Lys’ party we went to a club and I did some recon.”

“Is that why you disappeared for so long?”

Aelin nodded “Chaol was there as my back up. As soon as we left I called Pete and told him the situation. He passed the call as an anonymous one and they closed the club.” Then she turned to the male counterpart of the team “at your party, the fire alarm going off? That was Aedion.”

“Our club was a mess as well. I knew Pete was busy as I knew Aelin’s plan so I pulled the fire alarm. That club was shut down as well.” Continued Aedion, not letting the burden of the confession all on Aelin’s shoulders. They had decided together.

“You are two bloody idiots.” Shouted Lysandra “and you thought not to tell us, why?”

Aedion was about to reply but Lys marched to him “and don’t say to bloody protect us. You are not a knight in shining armour.” Her green eyes bore into his with fury.

“We had a chat with the police and we realised the lesser people knew the better.” Added Aelin.

“Not to be disrespectful, cap, but we are your team. We are a family. And you should not keep such things from us.” Ren’s voice broke the momentary silence.

“I know,” said Aelin almost mystified “I was just not expecting an actual bomb landing in our station.”

“What do we do now?” This time it was Elide voicing everyone’s thoughts.

Aelin sighed “stay alert. The police is on the case but I have a feeling it will get worse before it gets better.”

“Report anything that looks suspicious to us either of us.”

The team nodded. And Aelin dismissed them all and they all went back to their duties.

The night had been long and they had far too many calls for her taste, but the shift had finished with no more drama and no more bombs and she called it a success, although she could not push away the constant feeling of doom in her guts. That bomb and the message had been clear. Hamel was not going to forget how both she and Aedion had confronted him.

She parked the car in her spot and the sight of Rowan’s reminded her that he would not be at home waiting for her. She hadn’t heard from his since the day before and she hoped he was fine. He sounded down. She had texted him once but received no reply.

She grabbed her bag and got back inside her house, looking forward to a very long relaxing shower. She walked to her bedroom, removed her shirt when powerful arms grabbed her from behind and a blade appeared at her neck “now, captain, you behave like a good girl and not a peep or I’ll slice your throat.”

Aelin nodded silently.

“Good,” his voice near her ear. Then she felt his lips on her neck “you are such a nice treat.” She realised too late she was just in a bra and Aelin felt his disgusting hand slither up to her chest. Rage rose through her “you know? I haven’t had a tumble with a woman in a long time. I might just have my way with you before I kill you.”

Hell no, thought Aelin.

With what little she remembered about self defence that Aedion had thought her she kicked the man in the nuts then grabbed the arm he had around her neck and with a powerful move she just threw him on the floor. His head slamming hard falling unconscious on the spot.

In a frenzy she grabbed her phone from her back pocket and called Chaol.

“Hey,”

“Hi. Are you on shift?” She asked him, voice trembling.

“Yes, out on patrol.”

“Good. I need you at my house. Someone just broke in and attacked me.” She explained while trying to calm down the anger.

“Ok, I will be there as soon as I can. You haven’t moved, have you?”

“No, still same address.”

She sat beside the unconscious man and kicked the blade away with her shoe. And then she tried very hard not to cry.

“Aelin, it’s me.” A knock on the door woke her up from her shocked state. She grabbed the blanket she had on her bed and wrapped it around her and went to open the door to Chaol. Beside him stood a woman, his partner. She had met Nesryn many times before.

Chaol noted her state “are you okay?”

She walked to the bed and sat down staring at the man on the floor.

“He is unconscious,” said the other woman while cuffing the perp.

Chaol stopped in front of her “what happened?”

“I just got home from my shift. I got in the house and he attacked me while I was getting changed. He put a knife at my throat.” And she pointed at the weapon on the floor.

Nesryn came off the phone “detective Ytger is on her way.” Then she stood and walked to the kitchen and got some water for Aelin.

“Thank you.”

“He didn’t…” asked Nesryn with caution.

Aelin shook her head “I have no shirt on because I removed it before I was attacked. He just got a nice sight and a squeeze. I stopped him before he could do more.”

Twenty minutes later detective Ytger and a few more detectives arrived in the house inspecting it and collecting any bit of evidence they could, knife first of all.

“Aelin, this is Tern one of Hamel’s men.” said the woman pointing at the still unconscious man cuffed on the floor.

That was good thought Aelin, they could arrest Hamel now?

“We will bring him to the station and interrogate him. But Hamel’s men rarely sing.”

“So he almost killed me and nothing will change?” She stood and shouted “this man came into my house and almost got me.” And she pointed at the thin cut at her throat “I am alive because I can defend myself.” She sat back on the bed, hands shaking. She was not going to break down.

“You should come to the station for a statement,” said the detective.

“Would it help?”

“To put Tern away for a while.” Then she shook her head “not yet enough for Hamel.”

Aelin groaned and went to get a clean t-shirt and a hoodie “fine, let’s do this.” And walked to the door of her flat annoyed.

Her time at the police station had felt completely useless. They had asked her for a statement, asked her to recount again what had happened and then again she was told that the chances to finally frame Hamel were still quite low. They had no way prove that Hamel had tried to kill her although the police knew that Tern worked for Hamel. She was slowly losing any hope and confidence in the police.

Once the detectives had left, Chaol sat with her in the interrogation room “are you sure you are fine?” His voice full of worry as his brown eyes stared at her.

“Yeah.” She said flatly “I just want to go to bed. I came off the night shift and I am tired.”

“Your house is still a crime scene.”

Aelin swore loudly “what am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe Aedion can take you in until you get your place back.”

“I don’t want strangers in my house or in my bedroom.” She snapped. She did not want anyone going to her bedroom and possibly touching his stuff.

“They have to.”

“They got the knife, and Tern, what more do they need?” She stood and started pacing frantically and Chaol knew she was not okay.

“I am calling Aedion.” The man took his phone out and phoned her cousin explaining him what happened and that she needed a place to stay for probably a day.

Aelin sat back on the chair and tried very hard to not to break down. She was tired and furious and with a deep desire of smashing something. She felt tears sting her eyes and fought them hard. But the rage was like a wildfire inside her.

The bastard was trying to kill her. How dared he?

“Aedion and Lys are on their way.” Chaol came back and sat down again beside her and pulled her closer.

“I thought we were doing the right thing,” she said quietly “that man belongs to a jail. How dare he think he can get me killed because I am doing my job?” She was seething then peeled away from Chaol’s attempt at comfort and resumed pacing feeling restless.

“I’ll go and sleep at the station.” Aelin stopped and Chaol noticed her shoulders slump in exhaustion.

He grabbed her hand and stopped her. She needed to be with someone close to her. He had known Aelin for a very long time. The police tended to work a lot with them and eventually Chaol got to know the entire fire station: both east and west. But that was the first time he saw Aelin in that state. He had seen her run into fires without batting an eyelid but that day she was truly scared.

“Wait for them, you need company tonight.”

It was a good half an hour later when Lysandra and Aedion made their way inside the police station and Lysandra ran to Aelin as soon as she spotted her friend. The two women embraced fiercely and Aelin burst into tears as soon as she was in the other woman’s arms.

In the meantime Chaol took Aedion aside and explained to him what happened.

“Are you okay?” Lysandra took Aelin’s face in her hand and green eyes met blue “you are coming with us, Ae and I will look after you.”

Aelin shook her head “you have a wedding to prepare for. I will sleep at the station. I am fine.”

Lysandra sighed in exasperation “Aedion, you tell her she is coming with us and not going to camp at the fire station.”

Aedion walked slowly to his cousin and kissed her head “there is no way you are sleeping at the station. We have a spare room. And stop being stubborn or I call flying boy and tell him to have a chat with you.”

Aelin’s heart sank. She did not want Rowan to know, at least not while he was away. He was already having a rough time as it was. He could not worry about her as well. And for something like this he would downright freak out.

“Fine.” She yielded.

The drive home had been quiet, Aelin sat at the back of the car and leaned her face against the window staring at the city passing by. The fury had somehow calmed down but the whole attack had thrown her off “Ae, I need you to teach me better hand to hand combat. I keep thinking that I am alive because you taught me some manoeuvres to defend myself.”

“We can do that and if any of the other ladies in the team want to join I can do it for all of you.”

Aelin saw Lysandra put a hand on Aedion’s on the stick. Knowing him he was probably beating himself for not protecting her properly.

They stopped at the traffic lights and Aedion slammed his hand on the steering wheel in rage “first that bomb and now this. I want the man’s head on a silver plate.”

“The police has no proof.” Said Aelin with such a flat tone that Aedion worried seriously. She had just recovered from all the fire ordeal. She could not go through another breakdown. And this time Rowan wasn’t even there.

Aedion breathed out and relaxed as the lights turned green. They arrived at their house not long after and once inside Lysandra took Aelin to her temporary room. When she came back she had a bundle of clothes for her.

“These are mine.” She handed her over the bundle “I have spare toiletries and towels if you need a shower. I will ask Aedion to make lunch.”

Aelin shook her head “I am just taking a shower and going to bed. I don’t feel hungry and definitely not in the mood for company.”

Lysandra hugged her “we’ll set aside some food so if you are hungry later on, it’s there.”

Aelin’s arms tightened around her friend’s body “thank you for having me.”

“Always,” Lysandra pulled back and searched for Aelin’s stare “especially now that the captain is away. We are here.” And with that she left.

Her shower had been long as she had the need to scrub off her body from the contact with the assailant. Remove the memory of his touch on her skin. Once she felt clean again she went back to her room and curled up in bed. She wanted to speak to Rowan but was afraid she would crumble. But the weak part of her needed to hear his voice and know he was okay. So she gathered some courage and called him.

Aelin was about to hang up when he finally answered.

“Hi trouble.

“Such loving words to say to your girlfriend.”

“Keep me company while I walk back to my quarters.”

“I just got out of the shower. I only have my bathrobe on.”

“Cruel, cruel woman.”

Aelin grinned and snapped a picture of her, the robe slightly open to show her legs and part of her breasts to tease him “you better get to your quarters before looking at the photo I just sent you.”

She heard a door slam and a much quieter background and Rowan was silent for a while.

“Are you still alive?”

Rowan groaned “it’s a good thing that I need to take a shower.”

Aelin laughed loudly at the joke. Speaking to him was lifting the cloud of doom that had landed on her “You might need more than your military style two minutes.”

“After the photo I will be happy to get a cold one.” He was silent for a while and she heard some rustling.

“My turn for revenge.”

Aelin looked at her phone and she had two pictures one was him in his jumpsuit how she liked him, the second was him with his bare torso and this time it was Aelin’s turn to groan “seriously, when you come back I am taking a week off, we are going back to the cabin in the woods and spend the whole week in bed having sex.”

It was Rowan’s turn to laugh “you will not hear me complain.”

“I miss you so much.” And she tried very hard not to cry, it would make things much worse and he would fuss and worry. And he was away and she could not distract him because his job was dangerous and she needed him to come back. Badly.

Rowan sighed on his end “Yeah, not having a great time either.” He said softly “how is Elide coping?”

“She just tries to ignore it and stays strong.”

“Lorcan is miserable. And all the shit that is going down is not helping.”

Aelin hugged the pillow “Ro, I know that you can’t tell me anything but are you guys okay?”

She heard Rowan loose a long breath “it’s not the first time we are in a bad situation. It has just been very exhausting and we have been pulling crazy patrol shifts.” He explained “that’s why I haven’t been texting you back. I just got off a 12hrs patrol. I think the whole team is already in bed.”

“Even the twins?”

“Yeah, we have been so busy that they had no time to indulge in any illicit activities.”

Aelin smiled “ohh poor Fenrys.”

“I already have enough on my plate. I don’t have time to deal with his stupidity.”

Aelin smirked in the camera “can I distract you, captain?” Swiftly Aelin opened the belt of her robe exposing her naked form to him.

Rowan hissed a breath “Aelin…” his voice strained “you are not helping…”

“Just cheering you up.” She bent her legs, her hand brushing slowly her stomach in a sensual motion.

Rowan growled and Aelin noticed him standing and pacing.

“Problems, captain? You seem on edge….”

He looked at her in the camera, took in her long legs and the swell of her breasts and pushed aside his need for her “were I there, you’d be against a wall right now.”

Aelin cackled in response.

“Fuck, Aelin, this is torture.” His voice harsher than meant to. Her brows furrowed “I did not meant it like that…” he corrected himself very quickly “I love this. Very much. But I can’t be there and it’s killing me.”

Aelin closed her robe back in understanding “Sorry…”

“Hey,” he said very softly and felt like a bastard “you cheered me up.” His eyes rolled “more than expected.”

Aelin laughed “I guess that shower will really be long now.”

“Definitely more than three minutes.” She saw him going back on the bed, stripping off his jump suit and remaining in a t-shirt and boxer briefs.

“Nice ass, Whitethorn.”

Rowan laughed again and she loved hearing that sound from him “Is it okay if I leave you now? It’s dinner time on the ship and I hate being late because the best stuff is gone.”

“No,” she said softly “go, take that shower and have some food.”

He stood and looked at her in the camera “thank you.” He blew her a kiss “I love you.”

“Same here. Very much.” She sighed, dreading the end of the conversation “Go.”

“Okay. Hanging up now…” he waved at her and waved back and eventually hung up the call and Aelin collapsed down in bed with heaviness and sadness.

Then she got up and wore some clothes and left the room to join Aedion and Lys. They had been nice to her and she did not want to offend them. Also, speaking with Rowan had calmed her fears a bit.

Once in the kitchen she joined her friends.

“Look who has a big smile. Phone sex with the captain?”

Aelin chuckled and shook her head sitting down beside Lysandra. Aedion passed her a huge portion of food.

“You can totally have sex phone with him, Ae and I will not judge.”

Aelin took a bit of her food and hummed happily. Aedion was a great cook “he had to shower and then dinner. Meals are on set times.”

“And suck most of the times, but maybe the posh gangs on the boats have fancy cooks. Sometimes we had to survive on military ration packs.” he explained eating eagerly his food “as soon as I retired I learned how to cook.”

“And you are awesome at it.” Lysandra brushed her hand on his arm.

“Guys, thank you for having me over.” She felt as if she hadn’t thanked them properly. It was a few days before their wedding and she hated being a burden.

“Hey, we are here. And you know that when Rowan is away you can stay with us if you feel lonely.”

“I can always babysit once you make me aunt Aelin.”

Lysandra laughed “hold your horses lady, he gets to marry me… for his progeny he will have to wait.”

“Imagine cute blonde babies with green eyes.”

“I can definitely imagine kids between you and the captain.”

Aelin almost chocked on her food “seriously, Lys, you can’t just blurt out stuff like that.”

“Why?” She asked innocently and Aedion elbowed her.

“We just finished fighting and barely started figuring out things. I leave the whole marriage thing to you, for now.”

Lysandra sighed and did not push. She knew it was a tough topic for Aelin. She and Sam had been months away from getting married before he died and she knew they had the whole kids chat and had planed a family “Fine.”

They finished dinner and Aelin offered to help clean up, it was the least she could do. The three of them camped on the sofa and chatted for a few hours then Aelin started yawning and excused herself to bed. She had a long crappy day.

***

It was the weekend and the big day for Lys and Aedion. Aelin had returned home two days after the attack. The police had contacted her telling her that the house was released back and she had gone back as soon as she could. Lysandra and Aedion had driven her home and spent some time with her making sure she was fine being there again. Aelin, being her stubborn self, had sworn she was fine but had started playing music all the time to try and hide the silence in the house. The first thing she did was to flop on the bed and inhale Rowan’s scent and hug bird Rowan like an addict.

She was about to get dressed when her phone went off.

“Oh look who is calling.” She hadn’t heard from him since their last conversation and although she knew it would happen it would always make her nervous.

“How is my girl doing?” Since they had put an official label in their relationship, he had become even more affectionate and had also started using cute nicknames for her on top of Fireheart which still was the main one he used. All their barriers had officially fallen and distance was the only thing separating them. She loved this new take in their relationship. She was just looking forward to him coming back and finally ask him the question she had been pondering for weeks.

“Great. It’s Lys and Aedion’s wedding day. I was just getting ready.”

“Will I get to see in you in your maid of honour’s dress?”

“If you behave,” she teased while removing her pyjama “how are you doing?”

“I am on downtime… until some shit happens and we have to scramble no matter what.”

“That sucks.”

Rowan sighed “I know, but that’s how it works.”

Aelin put the phone on the bed and on speaker phone “Keep talking, I am just getting dressed and I got you on speaker phone.”

“I really hate I can’t be there.” Then he stopped “you are not taking another man, are you?”

Aelin laughed. Him playing jealous boyfriend was cute “Brullo is accompanying me and Ress is taking Elide. They are just being nice, don’t worry.”

“Fine, I’ll trust them to keep their hands to themselves.”

“Jealous much, captain?”

Rowan just grunted something unintelligible.

She finished pulling up the dress and with some acrobatics she did manage to zip it up as well “that’s when I need you here. To zip up my dress.” She groaned after the feat just accomplished.

“Honestly, I’d rather zip it down.” Aelin could hear him smile.

Then she grabbed her phone and switched on the camera “here we go, Buzzard. My hair is not done yet, neither my make up, but you can see the dress.”

It was a long light blue dress that would match the bride’s colour. The skirt pooled at her feet and with a squared neckline. It was very simple. Rowan had switched on the camera as well and from his expression she could see it was effective as well “so?”

He swallowed hard “I assume you have underwear this time?”

“Yes, it’s not as tight as the black one, so it does not look bad.”

“Again… it really sucks not to be there.”

She twirled for him “is that all you have, captain?” Then Aelin took a seat at the vanity dressing table and started fixing her hair while the phone was leaning against the mirror.

“I have so many naughty thoughts just now… that if I were there we would definitely be late for the wedding.”

Aelin cackled in joy. Once her hair was pulled up in a nice style she opened the small jewellery box in front of her and pulled out the necklace he had given her and showed it to him “recognise this?”

His face lit up in a beautiful smile “you are wearing it?”

Aelin nodded “I always do when I am not on shift. It’s always together with your dog tags.”

“I love you.” He said to her with a tenderness that melted her heart.

The buzzer in her house went off “this must be Elide. We are going together. Go and call Lorcan.”

Aelin stood and saw Rowan doing the same. When she got back with Elide she noticed Lorcan in the image “Commodore, thank you for joining us.” Then she grabbed Elide’s arm and pulled her in the picture as well and saw an array of emotions pass through the usually stone faced man.

“Hi Lor,” said Elide timidly.

“Elide…” was the only thing he managed to say. The woman had a dress matching Aelin’s. Lysandra had chosen both of them to be her maid of honour.

“Isn’t she stunning?” She teased, loving to see the man actually showing emotions.

“Very, very much.” And no one missed the tenderness in the comment.

“Well, boys… these two ladies here have to go to a wedding so the gawking stops here.”

“Have a good time, okay?” Said Rowan, while Lorcan was still busy admiring Elide “and leave the other men alone.”

“You two enjoy your downtime and your cold showers….” She winked at them wickedly then she grabbed the phone and walked away for a moment of privacy for her goodbye to Rowan.

Once she was done she walked back to Elide who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“So, our fearless and cold commodore has emotions after all.”

Elide nodded “he just shows very little of them. But he has been calling me every time he can and well… he has been kind and he actually said he missed me. I think for him is the equivalent of saying I love you.”

Aelin hugged Elide “I am so happy he is being nice to you.”

The two finished getting ready and eventually left the house, Aelin saying goodbye to bird Rowan before leaving.

The wedding venue was an estate just outside town. It was a gorgeous sunny day and the ceremony would be held outside and then the buffet and the celebrations inside in the great hall.

Aelin and Elide arrived half an hour later and a valet took care of her car.

Together they walked along the long path with trees at both sides. In the distance they could see the mansion and the place looked majestic. A double staircase lead to the upper level but they were guided to the rear of the mansion.

Aelin approached a woman standing and looking like she was in charge of the event “Hi, we are Aelin and Elide, the two maids of honour. Where is Lysandra?”

“She is getting ready. I’ll take you to her.”

The woman lead them to the room “she is in here.”

Aelin and Elide entered and Aelin gasped amazed when she saw Lys, standing in the middle of the room. She was beautiful. The dress was light blue. Lys had told them she refused to wear white. The gown was in tulle, the corset was covered in lace with a floral pattern which continued along the gown, and a strap in tulle as well sneaked on the left shoulder.

Her dark hair was bound in a nice complicated bun with some flowers pinned in it.

Aelin took a step to her friend “Lys, you look amazing. You are going to give Aedion a heart attack.”

“Do you like it?” She pirouetted for them.

“You look like a princess,” said Elide dreamingly.

“The dress looked amazing in the picture but on you is even better.” Aelin sat on the bed “how are you feeling?”

“Nervous I think? Which everyone is telling me is normal.” She confessed.

Lysandra looked at her friends “did you send a picture of you two to your boys far away?”

Aelin smiled “I was having a video call with Rowan when Elide arrived. You should have seen Lorcan’s face. The man was speechless when he saw Elide.”

“Oh sure because Rowan was disgusted…” joked Elide.

Aelin chuckled and thought about his reaction “definitely not…”

The three women chatted and gossiped for a while until the woman who had walked them to the room came back announcing that it was time to get to their positions and that the groom was already at the altar.

“We’ll see you up there.” Aelin hugged Lys again and the woman nodded.

Aelin and Elide were taken where the other bridesmaids were, and their male companions.

Manon, Asterin and Ansel were already there and the rest of the team as well.

Brullo walked to Aelin and offered her his arm “captan, would you do me the honour?”

Aelin took his arm in hers and wore at her wrist the corsage he had offered her.

Elide took her place with Ress. Ansel went with Nox, Manon with Ren and Asterin went with Luca. The guys were wearing their dress mess uniform.

Everyone lined up for the procession and Aelin wished she could share such a happy moment with Rowan.

Classical music started playing and the bridesmaids and their partners were told to start walking down the aisle.

As they walked Aelin noticed a lot of familiar faces. All of west station was present, Dorian was sitting toward the front with Sorscha at his side. In another section she noticed Chaol and Yrene and a few more cops. There were a few men in uniform. Aedion had invited some of his ex army mates. She smiled when she saw a few civilians in a sea of uniforms. Both police officers and firefighters had worn their dress mess uniforms and the detectives were the ones mingling in the regular clothes crowd.

Aelin looked at the end of the aisle and noticed Aedion in his dress uniform, standing proud and with a big smile. His hair was tied in a very low ponytail with a red ribbon holding it together.

She was so happy for him and was looking forward to see his face when he saw Lys.

Once at the bottom of the aisle they stopped and Aelin and Elide took their positions and same for Brullo and Ress, walking behind Aedion.

The officiant joined a moment later and a man in an army uniform appeared and Aelin tried to figure out the rank from his insignia. She had learned the airforce ones but still had no clue on army and navy, but from the large cuffs on the wrists of his uniforms she guessed he was quite high up and important to Aedion if he asked him to perform the wedding.

The man patted Aedion’s shoulder and gave him a huge grin.

Eventually the music changed and Lysandra appeared at the bottom of aisle and Aelin stared at her cousin’s expression once he noticed his soon to be wife make an appearance. Lysandra was a lucky woman. She could see the deep love in Aedion’s eyes.

Lysandra walked down the aisle with a little girl, Chaol and Yrene’s daughter, being flower girl.

Aelin smiled as the little girl threw flowers and bowed to the attendees every so often. She was just adorable. Once she was done she turned and bowed one last time and ran back her parents.

Lysandra stopped in front of Aedion and the two stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Once they took their place the officiant started the wedding.

Aelin got distracted by a figure lurking behind one of the trees in the distance. Her stomach in knots in worry. Silently she kept scanning the area without showing any signs of her attention having drifted away from the wedding. And when she spotted a second one her panic rose. The men were dressed in black and clearly hiding. She saw one of them lift something that looked a lot like a rifle. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Everyone duck!” She shouted.

In that instant gun shots echoed in the air.

Aedion threw himself on Lysandra and in that instant Aelin saw a bullet finding its target in his shoulder. Blood spayed from the wound and then Lysandra’s scream followed.

She saw police, detectives and army scrambling into action. She kneeled and pulled Aedion’s body from a panicking Lysandra. Rolled over his body and sighed in relief when she saw him breathing.

She looked up at Brullo and the man was already on the phone with the emergency services.

Aelin used her dress to stop the bleeding and Elide crouched beside Lysandra to calm down the woman.

Aedion had used his body to shield Lysandra as he heard the gun shots. He had acted on pure instincts.

“Lys, he is breathing. He will be okay.” Aelin said to a terrified Lys. Their faces covered in sprayed blood. Elide used her dress to clean Lys’ face. Sorscha joined them quickly “keep the pressure on the wound.” She told Aelin, while she checked him over.

The ambulance arrived pretty quickly and Aelin recognised the paramedics from another unit.

The paramedics took care of the wound and then Aedion was lifted on a gurney.

“Go,” she said to Lys, “we are joining you at the hospital.” The woman nodded in a daze and followed the paramedics.

“Brullo, Ress, stay with Elide.” And she ran away to the police.

She saw detective Ytger dragging a man in cuffs to the exit and probably to a police car.

She joined Chaol who was holding his screaming daughter “They got two but there were more. They had rifles. I saw the army guys spreading along the perimeter.”

“Do you think…?” She asked and Chaol nodded without her having to finish the sentence.

“The bomb, the attack to you… and now this…”

Aelin’s hands fisted in rage.

It had gone too far.

She was going to take Hamel down.

No matter what.