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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years

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Family Secrets (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: Dark themes mentioned!

For as long as you could remember, your mother was always a rigid woman. She was constantly tense. You used to believe it was because she worked so much to keep the two of you going but after some time, you had to wonder if it was just a personality trait. She didn't have friends, or people she considered friends specifically. Her focus was always on you, the house and her job. Your mother said she didn't have any family but you. She was disowned by her parents and had one sibling that also cast her out. She never told you why. She never told you anything about her life before you. Eventually you stopped asking because she wouldn't entertain the question and instead got more agitated with the more curious you had become as you grew up.

The next common topic was your father, someone you wondered about since your earlier school days. You noticed the kids in your class with their parents. Mum's, dad's, mums and dads, two mum's and two dad's. All had more information about their family than you did. Your mother also didn't talk about your father. You knew you had one but your mum hadn't been in contact with him since she was pregnant with you. She gave no reason why, nor did she give any clue about who he was. He didn't matter, she had told you and that was the end if it. However being the child you were, that only raised more questions.

Things boiled over a few months, living most of your childhood in the dark about your family. The questions bouncing around in your head. That was until you discovered some old photos in your mother's room.

You were almost taken aback, there were two pictures of your mother both in different angles. She wore a sundress and sun hat, her head tilted back mid laugh, looking at something out of frame. Behind her, out of focus was what looked like a large dark brown door. To the left a red smudge that could only be described as a person and many other smudges in the background. After a moment you recognised those smudges to be people, simply out of focus like the rest of the background. You couldn't help but stare at her brilliant smile. Your mother had always been a pretty woman but she never smiled as wide as she had in this picture. Not that you could remember anyway. The woman was younger, identical yet completely different in nature. The mother you knew was very reserved, never having a smile that showed her teeth and practically lived in business suits with heels. Even a small smile from her had to be earned with good reason. You felt a pang in your chest, knowing that this version of your mother was long gone. Even more so, this was the person she wanted to hide you from so much. The other photograph had a what simply looked to be the wall of what you could only assume was the same building and people passing by in the background. Suddenly the photographs were ripped from your hands. You let out a startled cry as your mother looked at you with a fury you had never seen before. "I raised you better than to go through people's belongings!" She snapped. "But I-" You quickly discovered there was no room for excuses. "Go to your room!" You couldn't understand what made her so angry about those photographs but you didn't dare argue, the subject immediately dropped the next day.

It wasn't long until there was bigger worries. It started off with small but odd symptoms. Until they became so frequent that they couldn't be ignored. A doctor's appointment turned into many. The doctors appointments moved to hospital appointments and that was when everything went very wrong.

Your mother's illness was very aggressive so much so you had been forced to face the fact that you thought she'd be around for many decades yet, you woke up one morning to the fact that she only had months left. She eventually stopped working and had a couple of appointments with lawyers. It didn't take long for you to figure out why such meetings were happening. It became clear that any well moment she had, she was tying up loose ends. The house would be taken care of, as well as her burial, her money going to you in inheritance. However there was one thing that you refused to think about and she struggled to bring up. An even further harsh reality that not everything could be fixed. You were still young. Whilst late teens, you were still regarded a child. You had no other family to live with or contact, it was more than likely that you'd be put into the foster system for at least a year and then be left to figure it out on your own. Secretly you couldn't help but feel anger towards your mother for that. This is what happens! You would think to yourself internally. This is what happens when kids don't have family!

As time went on, hospital appointments became admissions. That was when you had to start packing some things for her and that was when you found even more things. Your brow furrowed to find some old letters, they weren’t recent. You could tell by their condition but they weren’t dated. You quickly skimmed the letter, this was someone your mother was romantically involved with. That was clear but who it was from wasn’t so clear. There had been no mention of you and the more you read the more apparent it became that this letter as well as the others were older than you. All were written and initialed by the same person. ‘D.V.’

You didn’t know anyone by those initials and to your recollection, neither did your mother. Or at least that’s what you thought. It made you wonder if you knew your mother at all. You kept your discovery a secret. You didn’t even know what you were looking at after all, some of the writing, you couldn't understand. This person’s handwriting was elegant and neat and in complete cursive. You’d have to sit down properly and read them to try and understand what had been written.

After a couple of nights studying these letters you found nothing. They weren’t important, love letters that provided no context. Your thoughts drifted to your mother. She was weaker now, curled up in her hospital bed in Forks. Although she was just as grim as always.You wondered if you should tell her what you discovered, be honest about your discovery. You pictured her in the same spot you left her on that bed, night fall outside with blue-ish lights in various sections of the room. She preferred to be alone and luckily she was given her own room. Although you wondered if it wasn’t so much lucky as it was a favour for other patients. People who were dying weren’t usually in wards, they were in private rooms. Dying peacefully and out of sight for some dignity. It was hard to picture that she could be one of those people, but it was a reality you had to face. Even if with everyday, you waited to hear from doctors when she got to go home. However, all they ever told you in gracious terms was that those chances got slimmer each passing day. You imagined a doctor entering with a warm smile, a smile beyond his years as well as his wisdom. “You’re working the night shift tonight?” Your mother would ask him. “Yes, Ms (L/N).” The doctor would nod, his appearance and his voice being something of an angel. “I’m here to check up on you. How are you feeling today?” “Like a useless bag of bones,” Your mother would mutter. “useless.” "You are most certainly not useless." The doctor would smile with sad eyes yet a twinkle would still resonate, as though he knew this to be fact. "You're a mother after all." She nodded. "They won't need me anymore. They're grown up." "My wife likes to believe our children, no matter how old, will always be children." Your mothers mouth twisted. "She is correct, Doctor. We would do anything for our children." She seemed distracted almost immediately. “Would you turn on the TV?”

You blinked, shaking the thought away before checking your watch. Ten o’clock. You called it a night, watching a movie before bed. The next you, you began your routine, getting ready, making sure the house was in order before finally collecting some things to leave for the hospital. The place almost becoming a second home.

As you arrived, you found your mother reading a book, noting it to be one of her favourites. She enjoyed books about travelling to far away places, even a few romances about someone meeting the love of their life in a foreign place. She looked up at you, marking her page before placing it at her bedside. “Hello, did you sleep well?” She asked. “Hey.” You smiled at her. “Yeah, I didn’t seem to notice the silence as much this time.” You struggled to feel completely comfortable in that house. You hadn’t wanted to leave your previous house and so moving to your current one left you with a sour expression and a nasty attitude. You had always told yourself you moved for her, rather than because you didn’t have a choice. Although you hadn’t realised that mindset would backfire. The house didn’t feel like home and now that your mother had been in hospital for some time, you felt that you were intruding. “That’s good.” She nodded, looking a little more peaceful. “Very good.” “Can I ask you something?” You asked hesitantly and she hummed in confirmation as you took a seat at her bedside. “When I was packing you another bag the another night, I found some old letters.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “They were rather personal.” You added. “Signed by a ‘D.V.’? Your mother sighed with a frustrated eye roll. ”I...who is that?” You asked. “No one worth while. Back then when I knew that person, I was young and stupid.” “So why do you still have them?” “I don’t know!” She snapped. “They aren’t important!”

A knock at the door interrupted your conversation. You were startled to see who had walked in the door. A man with blonde slicked back hair, pale skin and gold eyes entered. You must have seen him passing by before as it was the same doctor you had imagined as a scenario in your head last night. You couldn’t help but look mildly confused. “Ms (L/N).” The doctor nodded to your mother. “Dr Cullen.” She greeted him in response. Your eyes shifted between him and your mother in confusion. “This is (Y/N).” Your mother nodded at you. “Ah, hello there (Y/N). I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, forgive me for not recognising you.” Dr Cullen smiled, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You reciprocated the motion. “Please, call me Carlisle.” “Nice to meet you.” You said quietly, unable to shake off his statement. He had said that he hadn’t seen you since you were a baby but he looked younger than your mother and barely ten years older than yourself. Whilst it was possible mathematically, you couldn’t help but find something a little off about it. Then again it would have made sense that he was a kid at the time. With that, you shrugged it off. “I’m taking over your mothers case.” “Oh, okay.” You nodded. “Is that allowed? If, uh, you know-” “(Y/N), Carlisle is an old friend who I havent seen in years. There is no rule against him treating me. The circumstances call for it.” Your mother said slightly exasperated. That last line stuck with you. “What circumstances exactly?” “I’m more ideal for your mothers case.” Carlisle said quickly. “It’s more of my field that the previous doctor, especially with your mothers condition.” “Oh...okay.” You nodded. ”Tell me, have the two of you discussed (Y/N)’s next steps after all of this?” Carlisle took out a pen and began rummaging into a locked cabinet behind him. He pulled out a folder with your mothers name on it. “Not exactly.” Your mother answered. Carlisle looked over at her. “Well, have you given much thought of where you’d want them to be?” “I have given it a lot of thought, but I don’t have much options.” “Well is there a relative (Y/N) could stay with or you’d consider?” “It’s just us.” You said quietly, your eyes flickering to Carlisle. “I don’t want them put in the system but i’m not in contact with my family. I don’t have friends that I could ever ask such a thing as to take guardianship of my child.” Your mother sighed. Carlisle paused before looking over at your mother. “Would it be possible to get back in touch with these relatives?” Your mother stiffened before shaking her head with a clenched jaw. “No. I cut all contact. I’d rather it was that way.” You noticed the look your mother and Carlisle gave each other, almost like a silent conversation. Or more so a one-sided argument if you knew your mother. Carlisle trying to get through to your mother whilst your mother stubbornly refused with a sour expression. “Well, i’d have to begin the paperwork on (Y/N)’s situation for social services immediately.” Carlisle looked almost saddened and your mother shifted in discomfort. “(Y/N), would you bring me some tea?” Your mother asked and you slowly nodded, before digging into your bag for some money.

After you had left, your mother spoke up breaking the silence. “They don’t know Carlisle.” “I understand but they will need to know.” “How would I tell them?” She snapped. “Vampires were the monsters under their bed for so long, friends with the boogeyman and werewolves. You expect me to tell them they’re half vampire and who their father is?” “He could take care of them.” Carlisle said quietly. “You don’t know that. That place isn’t a place to raise anyone! They’re strangers!” “I can give you my word that they’ll always have a home with me.” Carlisle assured her. “Whilst I live and breathe, (Y/N) will never know.” Your mother insisted.

Weeks passed and eventually so did your mother. You felt lost. Still without answers and now with nowhere to go. You couldn't help but wonder what would happen to you now. Your mother never told you. After that day, your mother assured you that you wouldn't have to worry about it. She had taken care of it. You just had to trust her.

Carlisle had been around almost everyday since you had first met and even his wife Esme wanted to meet you when she discovered you were in the hospital visiting your mother. Esme greeted your mother like an old friend a warm smile graving her perfect features. She was clearly very caring and nurturing. Your mother seemed to appreciate that and hesitantly welcomed it. That was very out of character for your mother...at least in your eyes. You had a lot of questions when you discovered that no longer would you be going into the system. Somehow Carlisle and his wife arranged for you to be staying with them. At some point your mother had agreed to this. However, you couldn't figure out how they had done so. They weren't adopting you. That much you gathered but once again you were only left with more questions.

The Cullen's were a strange bunch. All had gold eyes, which you weren't sure was even probable to be adopting so many kids who had matching bizarre eye colours. All but one. A girl called Renesmee, 'Nessie' for short. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh and she too seemed to get amusement out of it. She looked to be the same age as you. Then it got confusing. One of the kids, Bella, married into the family and had a biological child with Edward, who was Nessie. Yet all looked to be in their late teens, barely two years older than you and Nessie. Another being, Emmett spoke about your mother as if he too also knew her a long time ago. The family as a whole didn't make sense yet none were willing to clear anything up for you. Somehow they were more secretive than your mother had ever been. However, they did an excellent job at keeping you calm about it.

Carlisle took some time off from the hospital to help you settle in. He understood this was a big jump for you and a very difficult time. Carlisle had been the most familiar part of your day and he wanted to be there just as he had been prior to your mother's passing. You decided to give Carlisle some peace in his office.

You moved to the kitchen to see Esme chopping vegetables. She looked up with a bright warm smile. "Hello, (Y/N)." "Hi, Esme." You returned her smile somewhat shyly. "What are you making?" "Renesmee is craving some vegetable soup. I'm thinking it's the time of year." Esme responded, her smile never faltering. If anyone appreciated your efforts, it was Esme. She had immediately wanted to reassure you when you had first come to stay with them. Her words stuck with you. "I know it was just you and your mother before. Living with such a large family must be very different. We'll do our best to make sure you're comfortable here. You're a part of the family now."

Ever since you had tried to be a part of the family, rather than the outsider- as much as you wanted to hide away in your room that you had to share with Renesmee. Esme was the first to notice and she was more than encouraging. She noted the tiny details such as you no longer lingering in the kitchen doorway and now willing to approach her, just as you did to get a closer look at the pot. "It is getting colder." You nodded. "It could be the change of weather." "I agree." Esme responded. "Would you like to help?" You thought about it. "I don't know if I can be much help." You said meekly. "I, uh, wasn't allowed near knives a lot of the time with my mum."

You expected Esme to be confused but instead a flash of recognition rushed over her face before her usual smile. "Well, they are dangerous." Esme responded. "Here. I'll show you." "Really?" Your eyes lit up. Your mother never had time for things like this so to have Esme offer was a surprise. "Of course!" She stepped to the side, gesturing for you to stand beside her as she reached for another knife. "I'll get you to cut these." Esme put some newly washed leeks on the chopping board in front of you. You picked up the knife and Esme immediately advised you. "Put this hand on the leeks but tuck your fingers in like this, it's safer." You copied her. "Like this?" "Yes." She praised. "You hold the knife like this." She showed you where she positioned her fingers around the knifes handle. You followed suit. "That's it." You couldn't help but smile as you cut into the leek. "Well done! Those are excellent size of pieces too." Esme praised with a small grin, like a proud mother.

You and Esme kept conversation going. Suddenly you squeaked, the knife dropping onto the cutting board with a clatter. You immediately covered your thumb. Esme however remained calm, even offering a comforting smile. "Not to worry, it doesn't look too bad." You put your bleeding thumb to your mouth before recoiling sharply. Your mother's scolding returning to your mind. Her eyes always widened before she'd swat your hand away from your mouth, demanding you didn't do it. She never told you why she was to against you doing it. She did it herself. All she would say is that it's disgusting. Esme, on the other hand, said nothing about it simply taking your hand and leading you to the sink to run it under some cold water. "It was bound to happen." She said simply. "Renesmee has done it plenty of times. She can be as clumsy as her mother used to be at times." "Someone can stop being clumsy?" You looked over at Esme who seemed to ponder the question. "Hm, perhaps that's poor phrasing. Bella still has her stumbles ever now and then but back when we first met her...?" Esme trailed off, giggling. "Bella fell many times. She got a paper cut from a birthday gift from Alice, you know." "Really?" You cracked an amused smile. Esme nodded. "Yes. Cut it on the corner of her gift, the wrapping paper no less." Esme chuckled to herself. "It drove Edward wild." She continued. "He was always so worried about her. Even now, he'll still forget how capable she is." "Never underestimate a woman." You smirked and Esme grinned. "Indeed." "Was it just paranoia or did he have reason to be worried?" Esme's smile faltered, as though remembering something bad. "Sometimes he had reason..." Her smile returned quickly. "Although mostly he was worrying over nothing." She said almost as though assuring you. However, your mind latched to her hesitation. "I'm sorry, I ask a lot of questions. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." You apologised. "Never be afraid to ask questions in this house. It's a good thing. You're clever. I know you have a lot of questions." You said nothing as she continued. "I can't give you all the answers right now but I promise you will get them." "Can I ask some right now?" "I'll do my best to answer them." She nodded. "How did you know my mum and how did you know me? She never mentioned you." Esme pondered the question. "I can tell you how we met you?" Esme offered and you nodded frantically. "Although I can't go into every detail. Just know you'll know soon enough." You nodded in response.. "We met your mother when she was young, before she had you and she loved to travel. She had begun to see the magnificent things about the world and was eager for more. After a year, she returned one night at our doorstep. She was scared and had a baby in her arms. We helped her get back on her feet but by the time you were weeks old she insisted that she could do things on her own and since then she had moved around. Carlisle took her case, recognising her name.” "Do you know who my dad is?" You asked hurriedly and Esme stiffened. "Yes. Your mother told us that night. We know him but not on a personal level.” You wanted to know more but before you could ask, Esme put a hand on top of yours. "That's all I can tell you, right now but you will know everything soon. If you want to."

Renesmee flopped onto her bed with a huff mumbling into the covers about being tired. "You and me both." You stretched. It had been two days since you had last slept. You had always struggled with sleeping every night and no amount of doctors appointments seemed to help. Your mother eventually gave in, assuring you it was fine and perhaps you were just different that way. However she made you promise you'd keep that to herself. That was until you started living with the Cullen's however. You noticed that the Cullen's seemed to be the same and even more so, Renesmee also only slept a couple days at a time. The two of you bonded over that.

"Sometimes I just feel like I'm different from everyone else." You had once told her. "We are." She responded brightly. "We're rare." "What?" You laughed. "How do you know!?" "I just do!" She grinned. "Oh Renesmee..." You sighed after your laughter died down. "You talk so much crap sometimes." Her laughter roared back to life and she pushed you. You nearly fell off her bed in the process only making the two of you laugh harder. "You are though." Renesmee said finally, rolling into her side to face you. "You just don't know it yet." You sighed. "I mean it." She insisted. "You and I are more alike than you think. We're rare. You'll see." She rolled back onto her back, a moment of silence filling the room. "We're so cool." She finished and you scoffed with a giggle.

A few days later, you were with Carlisle in his office. You asked if you could sit with him, enjoying the peace. Somehow by design, the office was away from the house. You found that most weren't built that way. Carlisle agreed and you watched as he wrote in the same cursive writing that those letters had before. You thought about your time with the Cullen's. In the strangest way, they had their oddities and secrets. The secrets you had grown accustomed to thanks to your mother but the oddities bugged you. You never saw them eat, they'd leave every week for one night leaving only you and Renesmee. They never went to bed before you and we're always awake before you. They grew worried about the sunlight on the days it threatened to break through the grey clouds. Their eyes changed colour. Something about them free you closer and that tempted you to tell a secret you had never told anyone.

"Carlisle, can I talk to you about something?" You asked your eyes peeling away from his writing and rising to his face. He paused, looking up at you. "Of course. Is something wrong?" "No, I- uh... I've never told anyone this, not even my mum. I feel like I can trust you with this and that you won't think i’m...weird." You admitted. Carlisle smiled at you. "I'm good with 'weird' individuals. You tend to find that they're truly magnificent. Go ahead." You shifted in your seat. "I don't know if it's some dumb teenage thing but...I think I'm different from other kids my age." "In what way?" Carlisle asked seemingly intrigued, putting down his pen and resting his head on his hand. "I dunno, I just the feeling...it was little things." "It's alright." Carlisle reassured you. "I'm here to help." You leaned forward slightly. "So, when I was little, I fell off a balcony. Fourteen foot drop and I felt the pain, tried to get up but my left leg gave out on me. I remember my mother screaming that I had broken my leg. She took me to a hospital, by the time I arrived, I felt better. My X-rays came back saying I was absolutely fine. I thought I had super powers, I fixed my broken leg. After that my mother insisted to the doctor's she never said a 'fourteen foot drop'. She said I fell at a 'four feet drop'. She took me there because of how awkwardly I landed and was concerned about my leg." Slowly you shook your head. "I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember perfectly what she said and I remember where I fell. It was fourteen feet. " You took a breath. "I remember every birthday, every Christmas and every miniscule minute in between." You continued. "I don't sleep every night. I don't get tired like everyone else. I always heard things others couldn't." You swallowed, leaning back in your chair. "My mother lied to so many people about events in my life and I don't understand why. Most of all, I don't understand why I feel so different from others. Like an imposter but even I don't know what lies underneath."

You looked at your lap momentarily before lifting your gaze to examine Carlisle's expression. He didn't look appalled or uncomfortable, in fact he looked exactly the opposite. Perhaps he heard this sort of thing every day. "Am I crazy?" You asked lightly. Carlisle shook his head. "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I believe you're very intelligent. You pick up smaller details that others don't. You're seeing the pieces of a puzzle and are trying to out them together. However, you haven't seen the full picture. So how can you really know what you're looking at?" Carlisle continued. "I can help you. I can answer all of these questions but once I do, your life will be changed forever. It can't be ignored and whatever you wish to do with the information I give you. I want to support you with. Are you prepared for that?" You nodded.

Carlisle moved to a sofa and gestured for you to sit beside him. "This is a long story and I need to keep an open mind and listen to all of it first." You nodded. "We knew your mother through a group of individuals. She had just finished her studies and was travelling the world with her friends. She wanted to go everywhere and anywhere. She was young and wanted to see everything, now that she was free from responsibilities. She went to Volterra, Italy." You remembered the photographs you saw of her smiling, looking at something out of frame, mid laugh. "They wanted to see the castle there." Carlisle quickly dug out a box and inside were the same pictures you had discovered. He had stored them away for you, no questions asked. He pointed to one. "This is the fountain outside of the castle and in the background you can see blurred figures. Cameras weren't the best back then but this is a line of tourists to go and see inside the castle. He pointed to a particular red blur. "It is beyond likely that we know who this is. A woman named Heidi. She's a part of a group called the Volturi." You soon noticed he had photos that you hadn't seen before. The third was one that was definitely of the same day and time. Another angle, minutes before or after the previous two. However, the tourist line was more clearer behind your mother in this shot. This 'Heidi' was in a red tight dress with high heels and her brown curled hair framed her perfect face. Your eyes narrowed, noticing that this 'Heidi' was looking directly at your mother. "Heidi offered your mother and her friends a tour, free of charge." Your mother never took free samples, she would always pull you away, looking unnerved by anyone who offered anything free. Carlisle sighed, as though struggling to find the right words. "Your mother's life changed that day. She, like, many other humans never believed in monsters but she learned they can be very real and they aren't under the bed. The group, as I mentioned, are known as the Volturi. They're almost royalty in our kind...the vampire world." Your eyes narrowed. "Let me finish. It sounds bizarre right now but you need to hear everything to understand." Carlisle reminded you and you nodded, pushing back your building questions. "Those tours are organised for that group to feed upon humans and that day, your mother was the only one who survived. She had watched her friends and strangers from all walks of life be murdered. She was given a choice, she could live and do what was asked of her with no questions, or she could die with the others. She was young and would have done anything to live, like everyone else and so she agreed. Your mother met a man named Demetri. He too was a part of the Volturi- a vampire. Your mother was very drawn to him and the two of them spend more time together." Carlisle tilted his head. "They were in love." "D.V..." you whispered under your breath, remembering the letters. Carlisle nodded. "An old friend of mine, Aro, is the leader of the Volturi. One of three. He took interest in my grand daughter after she was born." Your face scrunched up in disgust and Carlisle chuckled. "Not like that. You'll understand, you're doing well." Carlisle continued. "He wanted to learn more about what she is but due to our history with the Volturi, we'd never allow him near her. Renesmee was a child, not an experiment. So he wanted one to study. Demetri was selected to help create one...and Demetri chose your mother. Which is why she lived." You trembled slightly but continued to listen which Carlisle seemed to appreciate. "Your mother didn't know Aro's plan and had grown very attached to Demetri, soon enough she was pregnant. By then, she found out her purpose. She didn't want her child to be studied, no matter what it originated from. So when she gave birth, it was a miracle she survived. Whether it was preparation or luck, no one knew. She took the baby and fled. By then Aro had grown bored of the idea and didn't come after her. Neither did Demetri. Months had passed and she was on my doorstep holding a baby and begging for my help. The rest you know." Carlisle took your hands in his. "Renesmee was born to Bella and Edward. She is half human and half vampire. Bella gave birth to her whilst still human and my family and I are all vampires. We don't feed on humans, we've never condoned it. That's not our way of life. We feed on animals, 'vegetarians' if you will. We don't sleep, every week we leave you and Renesmee to hunt. Renesmee was the first hybrid the Volturi had ever seen and Aro wanted to know more about how similar they are to vampires. I think you know where I'm going with this." "We're rare, you and I!" You remembered Renesmee words from that night. "The baby..." You mumbled and Carlisle nodded giving your hands a light squeeze. "You did have super powers that fixed your legs. Vampire venom is quick to heal injuries. Injuries you and Renesmee are more susceptible to be because you are still half human. You moved constantly because you aren't entirely human. However there has been many differences with hybrids. Another Hybrid Nahuel was fully matured after seven years since birth. Renesmee grew very fast, and at this rate will be fully matured in a matter of months. She's taken a little longer than Nahuel. You however, have taken even longer than her. Her growth is double yours." Carlisle looked at your expression. "You were three years old but had the intelligence of a five year old. You've been moved schools and home so many times as to avoid suspicion, never staying long enough for anyone to notice why you suddenly looked to be eight within a matter of a year. These things aren't patterns. Renesmee showed me that. Sometimes your growth will be very fast and other times it'll be slower. Vampires don't age and can only die by fire. Your mother told me before she passed that she was worried you had already stopped aging. It's possible and you need to know that." "What?" You managed out quietly. "Think about it, (Y/N). It's been three years and you look exactly the same." Carlisle answered. You were taken aback that your mother had mentioned that to Carlisle. "You don't feel right around the other children because you aren't like other children." "Why would my mother hide this from me?" You asked finally. "I think she wanted to give you something that in the end, you can't have. A normal human life. She wanted that for you but...your biology, could never allow that. Do you understand?" You remembered all the times your mother would look alarmed and swat your hand away from any paper cuts and you must have had said it out loud because Carlisle answered you. "I think she was worried you'd enjoy blood. I can't say I agreed with her methods, (Y/N). Suppressing instincts is never good for someone. However she didn't want you to have anything other than normality. I think it's important that you know that nothing your mother did, keeping this from you, would hurt you. You can survive on blood just as you can on human food but she couldn't account for the aging. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. However, in the end...she didn't want you to be alone."

You took a week to process what you had been told. Everything had changed just as predicted. Yet in the same way, it didn't seem to change your feelings for the Cullen's- only reinforce them.

Finally, you approached Carlisle again. "Can you tell me more? About the Volturi? About the vampire world?" "I can, but might I ask why?" Carlisle answered. "...do you think I could contact him? My dad?" You didn't realise how big an ask that was until Carlisle talk you through with it. Although he reminded you of his promise. He'd support you with anything you wanted to do with the information he gave you. If you wanted to contact Demetri, then he'd help you do that.

Within five days, the Cullen's had a visitor. You opened the door to see a boy with shockingly red eyes, dark hair and wearing all black. Around his neck was a good crest, with rubies and in the shape of a 'V'. His eyes stared into yours with an empty gaze, he said nothing. "Hi?" You furrowed your brow, slightly unsettled before Carlisle stepped around you. "Ah, Alec. It's good to see you again. Please, come in." "Carlisle." 'Alec' nodded to Carlisle before stepping inside. You blinked and Alec suddenly sniffed once. "Smells like the other one." He said quietly and walked away from you. You looked to Carlisle sharply in alarm but his look told you not to worry about it. "(Y/N), this is Alec. He's one of the Volturi guards." Carlisle said, putting a hand on your back and guiding you to follow Alec into the living room. "Alec, this is (Y/N). Who you've been expecting to meet." You inhaled sharply as Alec was in front of your face in seconds. Whilst the Cullen's were wary of scaring you, their speed was limited around you. However, Alec didn't seem to care if he scared you or not.

"You're age development is rather confusing." Alec most certainly didn't talk like others his age. Dared you say it, he was even worse than you. He'd stick out like a beacon. "Last I saw you, you were only a baby. A newborn." Alec said mostly to himself. "You aren't the first to say that." You replied. His eyes moved to yours with a piercing gaze. "So if you're Alec then you're not-" "Your father?" Alec interrupted and tilted his head and a small but very condescending smirk. "No."

After a moment of silence Alec turned to you. "I've to meet you and then report back to Aro. That's all you need to know." Alec said flatly. Without warning, Alec grabbed your jaw within one hand, tilting your head to the side. "Hearing?" "Slightly higher than human range." Carlisle responded as you blinked. "Sight?" Alec asked. "Above human range." Carlisle responded again. "Smell?" "Human range." "Strength?" Alec enquired. "Above human range but no where as good as a vampire." Carlisle answered. "Speed?" "Above human...we learned that recently." Carlisle looked at you.

You immediately remembered the time Emmett was chasing you. Your mother never allowed you to fun as fast as you could. The punishment was strict. However since her passing and staying with the Cullen's, you had began to relax and allow yourself to do those things, with the encouragement of the Cullen's. "Diet?" "Human food. We haven't introduced them to a blood diet yet." You shivered at the thought but couldn't help the creeping curiosity. Perhaps that was the vampire in you. "Intelligence?" Alec asked. "Highly." Carlisle smiled at you like a proud parent would. Alec seemed to catch this and stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "Behaviour?" "Well behaved." Carlisle said instantly. "Are they able to control themselves? Emotionally and such?" "Yes." Carlisle responded. "How much do they know of our kind?" "They're learning." Carlisle retorted. "I see." Alec hummed. "Any gifts?" He asked after a moment of silence. Carlisle shook his head "None we've been made aware of." Alec nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I'll report this back to Aro. We'll be in touch."

"(Y/N)?" Carlisle peeked into your room with a smile. "I thought you'd like to know the Volturi have contacted us. They'd like to meet you. Demetri included, of course." Your heart pounded. "My dad...wants to meet me?" Carlisle nodded with a warm smile. "It's your decision, if you so wish it. They're more than happy to accommodate you. Demetri is eager to see you again and they're pleased with the information we gave. We'd have to give them a some time to prepare for you. They're awaiting your response." Renesmee grinned at you in glee. You slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to meet them." Carlisle nodded. "Not a problem, I'll arrange the details with Aro." Just like that, Carlisle turned away. You turned to Renesmee, mostly in shock. She smiled brightly at you. "This is great!"

Two weeks later, you landed in Italy. Taking a plane yourself was a new experience but your nerves were too busy with the prospect of meeting your father. Outside the airport you were met by Alec, this time with a blonde girl. "Hey Alec." You said and Alec nodded at you. "Hello again, (Y/N). This is my sister, Jane." He gestured to the blonde girl. Both wore stoic expressions that were horrifying. Their hoods were up. Instead of a cloak, they each wore hoodies and their hands were stuffed into the pockets, not a single bit of skin exposed. "Nice to meet you." You said to Jane. "Likewise." She said quietly, with an innocent tone. However their bright red eyes said otherwise. "This way." The two turned towards a black car. "Afton is driving us. He isn't one for conversation, don't take it personally if he ignores you." Alec turned to you. You nodded. "Got it." You paused. "My stuff?" "We've already got it." Alec responded. "We can't afford delay." You nodded. "Thanks."

A man with black hair rose to a stand with a gasp and a grin of glee. "Ah! You must be our dear (Y/N)! My, how you've grown!" He hurried down the steps are towards you briskly as Alec and his sister moved to stand at the corner of the room. "Finally, I get to put a face to all the wonderful things I've heard about you." He reached out for you and by instinct you took his hand. You though he was going for a handshake but instead he turned your hand, encasing it within his own, his other moving to trap your hand in place as he hunched over slightly. He looked down at your hands before looking up to meet your eyes. "My name is Aro." So this was Aro. One of the three leaders of the Volturi and an old friend of Carlisle's. If anything he was the boss of the whole Volturi coven and guard. "Brothers! Come and see our little hybrid! They won't remember us!" The blonde and dark haired man who remained on their thrones stood up and walked towards you, although much slower and slightly less enthusiastic. All the while you really hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.

"The resemblance of Demetri...it's quite surprising." Aro said to himself in awe. "Perhaps the vampires have the dominant gene." The blonde responded, sparing Aro a glance who dropped your hand as to watch the exchange. "My name is Caius." The blonde began. "Our sincerest apologies if this is uncomfortable. For us, it has been a blink of an eye. You were only a baby at the time we last saw you." "You were the last of us to hold them, brother!" Aro spoke up. "Indeed." The blonde agreed.

You were surprised to hear the leaders had held you. With Caius' piercing stare, you were surprised you didn't have nightmare for the rest of your life. "Last but not least, this is Marcus!" Aro grinned gesturing to the dark haired man beside him. "It's a joy to see you again, little one. You have our condolences about your mother." Marcus' voice was move gravely, ad though he hadn't spoken for a while. A pang hit your chest and you nodded. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you all." "There will be plenty of time for questions and answers. However I do believe there is a more pressing matter." Aro smiled knowingly. "Indeed." Caius raised an eyebrow. "Jane! Send for Demetri! He has been waiting so long!" Aro announced. "Yes, master." Jane nodded before she was gone in a flash.

You knew it was him as soon as he entered. His eyes locked on you instantly as he froze. You heard yourself exhale, silence filling the room, only the sound of your breathing. Although you were sure everyone else could hear your racing heartbeat. The blonde stranger slowly moved towards you. Almost as though frightened every step he took would cause you to shatter before him. His eyes were a dark red, wide and unblinking. As though he didn't dare. For you, this was the first meeting but for him...it had been years and each one seemed to pain him. The blonde before you was clearly emotional just by the sight of you. Just as he was a few feet away from you, he spoke. It was almost a whisper. You almost didn't catch it. “Il mio bambino...” You had no clue what that meant but you couldn't find the ability to ask. You couldn't find the ability to speak at all, a lump in your throat. Emotions arose within Demetri quickly. This time, his words louder and directed towards you. "I thought I'd never hear your heartbeat ever again." You looked down at your chest before looking back at up at him. Demetri's hands moved to cover his mouth. "Oh that wonderful sound." You were taken aback at how attached he had been to the sound of your heartbeat. Your heart ached for him. So you did what you thought unthinkable. You moved forward and closed the space, wrapping your arms around him into a hug. He gasped in surprise, uncertain what to do at first. You felt tears build up in your eyes. "I found you." You whispered, mostly to yourself. "Yes, you did." You felt his arms wind around you, holding you to him. “Il mio bambino...” He said again. You held him tighter as you felt a tear run down your face.

From that moment on, Demetri wanted to know every little thing about you. No detail was dismissed. You realised during that time that Demetri had never heard you talk so naturally he’d want to listen to you talk about anything. He was eager to know every tiny little detail and spent hours finding out, with a sudden interest in everything you had ever done.Although some details about how you lived saddened him, he never explained why. You had speculations why. Your mother spent your whole childhood trying to suppress any part of him within you.

Whilst caught in a daydream, you felt a hand ruffle your hair. You jumped in surprise looking behind you to see a very amused Felix. "Look sharp, little one. The world is a hungry place.” Demetri rolled his eyes. “Not in here, they couldn’t be safer.” Felix raised an eyebrow. “Even with Alec sitting across from them?” You scoffed, standing up and grabbing your now empty glass. “Yeah, okay.” You said unconvinced. After pouring yourself another glass of water, you turned and reeled back. A black mist, like an tendril hovering inches from your face. “Alec.” Demetri narrowed his eyes in warning. Alec retracted his mist with a cold expression. “See?” Felix pursed his lips. "He...he wouldn't." You said shakily. Alec turned his head from his seat, his red eyes boring into yours. "Go on, underestimate me. Entertain me." Your eyes widened in fear. His face was void of emotion but his stare was piercing. Your eyes fell to the floor, visibly backing down from him. "Next time I won't be so forgiving." Alec said coldly.

Suddenly a hand slammed against the table before Alec making him look up. Demetri stared down at him coldly with a low growl. "I won't tolerate anyone threatening my child, that includes you, Alec. Warn them if you must but threaten them and then the line will be crossed." "You should teach your child to know better then, shouldn't you?" Alec glared up at Demetri. "They haven't been here long enough to know.. but you have." Demetri leaned forward. "You know I tend to leave you and your sister be. So the least you could do is have some patience for (Y/N). I'd hate for you and I to have a problem, Alec." Alec growled in response but seemed to take in his words, leaning back in his chair. "Fine." He said simply. "I'll do my best to be... accommodating."

You jumped slightly when Demetri peeked into your room, knocking twice. "Are you busy?" You closed your book with a quick shake of your head and a smile. "What's up?" Demetri paused as if not entirely understanding what you mean but continuing nonetheless. "Felix and I have some jobs to do and I would appreciate your help?" You looked surprised by Demetri's response and he smiled in amusement. "It'll be a test of strength too." "A test?" You asked, moving towards him with intrigue. "You'll see." He smirked. "Alright, let me get my shoes." The curiosity had already consumed you and made you unable to refuse the request. He led you down many sets of stairs and corridors. Finally leading you to a room that looked older and more run down than the rest of the castle.

Felix grinned at you immediately. "Hey, kiddo!" Felix greeted. "What are we doing in here?" You asked, taking a look around the room. "Well, this room will be redecorated as well as the one next door. We've got to break down all the furniture...and some of these walls." "Alright but...there's no tools here." Felix snorted. "What?" You asked. "You're adorable." Felix smirked in response before pulling out a drawer. Like it was nothing he pulled the backing of the drawer off, tossing it behind him, then the sides and finally ripping off the handle. Your jaw dropped at the sight before you turned to your father. He smiled at you. "Over the past couple of days, ive been noticing that you could be stronger than originally thought. So, let's test that theory."

The two led you to a coffee table before tipping it. "Try to pull a leg off. It's an old table, so it won't be too complicated. You just have to pull." Demetri crouched down beside you. Hesitantly you wrapped your hand around a table leg and tugged. Nothing. "Come on, you can do better than that kid." Felix grinned, crouching down too. "You're holding back in case you break it." Demetri added. "You want to break it so you don't need to be careful." "Think of something that annoys you, really aggravates you- got it?" Felix asked. You nodded enthusiastically.

You thought about all the times your mother lectured you for questioning her. The secrets that were life changing that she kept from you. A father you were robbed off. You pulled and with a crack it came off with ease. Your jaw dropped, instinctively waiting for a lecture that never came. "Nice one, kid!" Felix grinned. Demetri smiled at you, ruffling your hair as he, along with Felix stood up. You had never known how much fun destruction could be. You felt a rush run through you, suddenly very eager to do it again. The two vampires smiled as you clearly began to enjoy yourself. You spun driving your fist into some wooden railing above a half wall. All came off with ease and you made a noise of accomplishment before the force of your spin caused you to fall to the floor. Next that was heard as Felix's booming laugh before he punched chunks out of the brick in the wall. As you all continued, you grew more and more surprised that it didn't hurt very much and you didn't even have a scratch on you.

You were having such a good time you didn't even hear the twins approaching. "Watch and learn, you two." Felix gestured to you. "You're more than able to help after all." Jane huffed. "Why would we ever concern ourselves with such things?" "Entertainment. Again, look at (Y/N)." They did exactly that to see you have the time of your life with Demetri, ripping a cabinet open.

“Are you guys sure about this?” You asked, looking into the mug. After a moment of silence you quickly apologised. “Sorry! I...I ask a lot of questions.” You said hurriedly. Heidi frowned slightly. “Listen honey, I’m not going to give you trouble because you ask questions. That’s a good thing, take it from me. Actually, i’ll tell you something i’ve lived by all these years, even when i was human. Only ever ask questions. It gets others into trouble. Never give answers. It gets you into trouble." Heidi sent you a reassuring smile. “Now to answer that question. It’s absolutely fine.” “If we wanted to kill you, there is easier ways.” Alec rolled his eyes. “You need to become accustomed to a blood diet. We can’t always give you a regular human diet.”

Slowly, you put the mug to your lips, taking a reluctant sip. Your first instinct was to pull back sharply, your brain reminding you profusely that it was blood in a mug. Although you weren’t repulsed. “It should be an easier compromise for you that it’s warmed up.” Heidi smiled. “It was a blood bag but introducing you to blood and it’s cold...is a little cruel. Especially since we don’t drink it cold.” There was a slight gleam in her eye. You took another, longer sip. “It doesn’t taste bad.” You sounded slightly surprised. “Of course not, you’re half vampire.” Alec said.

Once you had finished it, Alec held his hand out. “Took you long enough.” “Alec!” Heidi tutted. Alec scowled at Heidi in response. Suddenly, you had an idea. You didn’t let go as Alec took it from you. Alec sighed, sending you a look of annoyance. "Let go of it. Now." You smiled at him. "You're pushing your luck, little one." Alec warned you with a clenched jaw. "You could easily take it from me." You replied, still holding onto the handle of the mug. "Does blood just make you more annoying? Hand it over!" Alec snapped. "Again, you've proven many times you could just take it from me." For a moment, Alec's anger was visible and he pulled the mug from you...only to find the mug now in two separate pieces. You still had the handle whilst Alec had the rest of it. Alec sighed, sending you another look of annoyance. "Now we're even for you threatening me, truce?" You asked lightly. Alec's instinct was to yell no, throw you to the ground and break every bone in your body. "Fine." He said through a clenched jaw.

"Dare I say it..." Felix mused and he and Demetri walked down the corridor. "...I think Alec actually likes them. They test his patience every couple of minutes but I've never seen him be so gentle." Demetri thought for a moment. "Or it could have been my warning." The two cracked a knowing smile at one another, both very aware that the latter just simply wasn't the case. "I have to agree with you friend. I was wary at first but a thought occurred to me." Felix raised an eyebrow at Demetri, pressing for his friend to continue. "Jane and Alec are the same age physically as (Y/N). Perhaps it'd do them good." Felix thought for a moment before agreeing with a nod. "I didn't think of it that way. I suppose it would be the beneficial for the twins. Jane may take some time though." Demetri hummed. "Well we do have lots of it, friend."

After some time, you began to think about your mother, now that you were experiencing the Volturi first hand, it made you wonder about her. More specifically, her feelings on you. The quiet always did bring nagging and often negative thoughts. Alec noticed almost immediately something was wrong. What made the matter worse was that he actually cared. He hated that but somehow he hated seeing you upset more. Your back was to him yet he knew you were crying. You had curled into yourself slightly and were trying very hard not to let your crying be heard. "Are you alright?" Alec asked quietly, moving to your side but refusing to look at you. You jumped slightly, quickly wiping your eyes. "Yeah!" You said, frantically nodding. "I'm fine." Alec tensely turned his head to look at you. "What's wrong?" Under his stare, one thing was simple. You couldn't lie to him. "I was just thinking about..." You trailed off, finding it difficult to really sum up what you were thinking. “I had so many questions and secrets about my life that I didn't want to notice the differences. I couldn't ignore them when she was gone...my mum.” Alec was quiet as you continued. "I can't help but think...she was scared of me. Or maybe that secretly, deep down she hated me." Alec thought for a moment. "Your mother was annoying." He said simply. Your eyes shifted to his. "I didn't like her. At all. I was very disgruntled to discover she was pregnant. I wanted to discover she wasn't compatible and be killed. Clearly I didn't get my way." Alec cast you a glance, noting your look of horror. "We weren't allowed near you." Alec continued. "When you were born my sister and I were the last people on this earth she'd ever let near you. She was hysterical when you were given to Jane who delivered you to the leaders. I won't lie, I enjoyed the misery it caused her." Alec paused, as though uncomfortable. "However, I think it's quite clear that if your mother ever hated you, she wouldn't have clung to you as she did. She wouldn't have risked her life to take you away. The way I see it is the exact opposite. I think she loved you more than anything in the world. She may have hated herself for that deep down. Some kind of moral dilemma I suppose, wanting to love and protect a child that is half vampire. She experienced our way of life and decided she didn't want it for you. So even if it killed her, she'd make sure she protected you from our world.” "What if she gave me up? Put me up for adoption or abandoned me?" "You'd have been back here immediately." Alec said flatly. "For the purpose of our laws and that Demetri wouldn't have had it. He let you go knowing you'd be with your mother and that this castle, isn't the best for raising a child. So if you had a better life, even if it wasn't with him, he'd make that sacrifice for you. In all honesty though, it was only a matter of time before you were apart of our world anyway. It's half of your DNA, you can't hide that for long." You couldn't help but crack a smile. "No wonder you hate me, you couldn't stand my mother." Alec paused. "i don't hate you." You looked at him in surprise. "I actually like you but you can be so damn annoying." You laughed.

"You believe the child is gifted?" Caius said as he turned to Aro. "Indeed." Aro hummed. "It's quite fascinating. Although I cannot be certain." "Do you think it would be useful to us?" Caius pressed and Aro hummed in thought. "Upon occasion." "What might it be?" Marcus asked. "I believe (Y/N) can see what's happening in current times with people they know. I believe I caught a glimpse of it in action. They saw Carlisle before meeting him but didn't understand." "From what you have told us, that seems logical considering they didn't know their true nature." Caius replied and Aro nodded. "Our focus right now is to keep them comfortable whilst transitioning them to a blood diet. Then we will investigate this potential gift." Aro decided.

You hadn’t been able to find anyone. As it seemed, you found them all in a room. You staggered back in shock. Blood pooled in one side of the room that looked almost identical to the throne room. However this one, wasn’t marble. It was stone, there was a wooden table and wooden chairs and in the middle of the room was a large, bulky grate. You noticed the three leaders were missing, yet the higher guard were not. All of them were present. “I was looking for you.” You said to Demetri but warily couldn’t take your eyes from the large puddle. “I see, well allow us to clean this up and i’ll be right with you.” You began to shake slightly remembering that the Volturi didn’t feed from blood bags, not according to Carlisle’s story anyway. As you stood before the grate. You froze. “(Y/N)?” Demetri called out but you didn’t respond. You looked in horror at the large grate, slightly trembling. Everything in your body told you to look away but you couldn't...and then your eyes focused on a hand.

You screamed, staggering back in horror. Demetri was quick to catch you in a vice grip. He was talking to you, but you couldn't hear him. Tears falling from your eyes. In that moment, you knew. This is what your mother was trying to protect you from. You remembered Carlisle's story and it disturbed you, making you hysterical. You tried to get out of Demetri's hold but he wouldn't let you. All the while, the story looped in your head. Your mother looked at the same grate. She watched as her friends lifeless bodies were dropped inside. At the end of it all, not only did her friends never come home, neither did she. She could never tell the tale, even though it haunted her everyday. You could feel the fear that she without a doubt felt back then.

You continued to scream, shaking violently in Demetri's arms. "Demetri, move." Alec said, finally moving forward with his arms out stretched. Demetri stepped back as the mist glided up to you. Your screaming and tears began die down. You began to lean and Demetri was quick to catch you lowering you to the ground. Demetri wiped your tears before looking at Alec who moved in front of you. "You can hear us now, I'll give you the rest of your senses back in a moment. Right now, you need to listen. You're alright. No one is going to hurt you but you need to calm down. I'll give you feeling back in one hand. Move your fingers if you understand." Alec's eyes dropped to your left hand. Your fingers twitched. "Good. Now remember, be calm. Nothing is going to hurt you." You began to blink erratically, swallowing hard. Before your eyes could wander beyond Alec and back to the grate, Demetri turned your head away. "Don't look." You met your father's gaze. Demetri looked heartbroken, apologetic. "I need to be alone right now." You said quietly.

It felt like you had gotten the best if both worlds. Your mother told you nothing, wanting to protect you. It had seemed wrong at the time but now that you had the alternative, you missed it. Your father was honest with you. Perhaps a little too honest. The truth was no longer a sought ally but instead something you wanted to run from. The truth always seemed like a bright light to you. Now that you knew the truth for what it was. It was dark.

You didn’t even go to your room, you rushed to the top floor of the castle, a place still and quiet and judging by the layer of dust on everything. It was abandoned, as many old places were. It seemed even areas of the castle weren’t safe from being forgotten by the vampires. You hunched over, swallowing back another wave of tears, trying to focus on the wooden floorboards underneath you. However it was no use, the tears constantly fighting they’re way out. Suddenly in the corner of your eye, you saw someone.

You turned to look at them and froze in shock. “Have I finally gone insane?” You trembled slightly, staring unblinkingly at your mother who mirrored your sitting position beside you. “This place makes people go insane. Believe me.” She glanced around the dark room, only illuminated by moonlight. She noted your tremble and exhaled. “No. You’re afraid and that’s a very sane thing.” “Was this a mistake?” You asked her. “A mistake? I don’t think so. Beyond the fear, lies the truth. You know everything now, there’s nothing left to protect you from.” Your mother responded. “But you had reason to.” “Yes...mine. My reasons. Truth be told, i knew nothing would happen to you here. Demetri loved you more than anything in the world. Protect you maybe, but I knew him well. I knew that me taking you away would be one of the most painful things to him. So I took you. I got my own revenge in the end.” “Fighting fire with fire?” You whispered. “It’s what this place drives you to do. Kill or be killed, hunt or be hunted. Adapt...or fall. This place...it saves them you know, it’s their sanctuary.” You turned to look at her and she continued. “None of them would last five minutes out there, they hide because they have to. The witch twins are a prime example. They could never survive modern life. So they hide and mock us for being expendable, never willing to admit the truth that in the end, we’re all leaving them behind. However there is something important in knowing that, (Y/N)- in knowing all of this, knowing why i did what i did.” A tear ran down your face but your mother continued. “It isn’t your story, it didn't happen to you. They’ve treated you well. You did not live my story and so you won’t hold it against them. I’ve already done that for the both of us.” Your mother said firmly. “Before you died, you were adamant I never discovered any of this.” You began but never continued. Although your mother seemed to catch on. “You know me better than that.” Your mother chastised. “I had to let you go, it wasn’t fair to you. At the very end, I knew i had to let you go and you had to go back to him. If you taught me anything, it was that terrible beginnings don’t always have to be terrible endings. So if it was best for you, i’d give him back the one he loved the most.” Another tear ran down your cheek, before the tear hit the floor, your mother was gone.

Ghosts were a lovely thought but you couldn't say you believed in them. You knew you needed your mother in that time and so you created her in your mind and willed her to speak the words you were so desperate to hear. In that moment you felt at peace, whether you had fooled yourself into believing what you wanted. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was enough for you to pull yourself to a stand and wipe your eyes.

You stepped down the last step, meeting eyes with Alec. “There you are. You had some of us worried.” Your gaze travelled to his. He paused, his eyes canning your face. “Are you alright?” “Yes.” You whispered. “(Y/N), there is a lot of frightening things in this world but just as there is the ugly, there is the beautiful and good things in this world. When you live through what i have, what i have survived, believe me when i say, those terrible things are nothing in comparison, you’d go through a million of those terrible things because that one good thing is so rewarding. You have a father that loves you and will always be here for you. If you want it to be...this is your home.” Alec’s words resonated with you. Slowly, what he was trying to say made sense. You remembered the memories you had already made with your father, with Alec, with the Cullens, Renesmee ... your mother. None of them were perfect. Most had to do terrible things to survive. Yet that didn’t take away from any tender moment. So you let it go. Just as your mother had told you upstairs, whether she was real or your imagination.

“Alec, i’d like to thank you.” You began. “For what?” Alec asked. “For your time, your effort. Angry or not, you’ve been there every step of the way. So thank you, you saved me. This is home.” Alec smirked slightly. “I know what it’s like.”

Demetri looked into the room, find you fast asleep with your book still in hand and open at the page, laying on your stomach. Your hands held it in place but it was clear to see you were in a very deep sleep. Demetri noted you were still in comfortable clothing. He quietly moved towards you before gently lifting your hand and sliding the book out from your other hand. He marked the place before putting it on your bedside table. Carefully he lifted one of your legs ever so slightly to move in under the covers before doing the same with the other. Demetri pulled the covers over you, up to your shoulders. He didn't want you to get cold. He was pleased with himself that he didn't wake you. You didn't even stir. He tucked you in ever so slightly. Whilst he knew that wasn't necessary, he couldn’t help himself. He'd missed so much of you growing up, this was the first time he'd ever tucked you in since you were days old. He turned off the lamp beside your bed before leaning down to kiss your head. Just as silently, he left, leaving the door open just a crack. He had noticed you preferred the door like that most times.

#twilight #volturi #the volturi #the cullens #demetri volturi #reader #renesmee cullen #carlisle cullen #one shot #oneshot

195 notes · View notes

arrivisting · 3 years

Note

I’d love author commentary on basically the whole scene at Ekkaia in all my war is done (or any individual part of that scene, if your prefer). Taken together, it’s one of the most beautiful and emotionally complex and heartrending things you’ve written, from the description of the sea itself, to the difficulties of Fingon and Alqualondë, to Gil and the ocean and his ‘mother’, to Fingon and Gil beginning to tackle the thorny subect of Maedhros.

I should admit something about all my war is done: it's the most fugue-like my writing has ever been. I jotted down a few notes on my commute into work - I was deeply underwater with my PhD at the time, three months away from submitting - and then the idea of writing a sequel to scion seized me so profoundly that I sat down in the Starbucks where my bus stops, took out my laptop, and wrote instead of just collecting my coffee and walking down to my office. I wrote 15k. In one day. In about five or six hours. I've never achieved anything like that before or since - I do have good days where I can knock 2-4k out easily, but not 15k. (You might note that the posted part of all my war is done is only 12k, but I wrote all the way up into the next bit with Fingon in Tirion that you've read, up until Turgon at the dinner table). I didn't sit down or plan events; I didn't actually know much about what would happen: but I knew they were going to Ekkaia and they'd have some kind of resolution there. These are my phone-notes, from that morning:

You can see, I think, something of the way an idea hits me. I note down a few snatches of plot, not necessarily in any order, some lines I think people should say at some point, although I might not use them, sketch out some things (Formenos's ruins were going to feature more heavily, but they're waiting for a later story).

(It makes me laugh, the words my phone doesn't accept - Gil-galad, for one - and the ones it automatically capitalises from where I've yelled enthusiastically about elf things at people. I never stop long enough to correct spelling etc when I'm trying to get something down).

I clearly knew from inception that I wanted Fingon's place to be called the hill of waiting, and had tried out the name in Sindarin; because my verbs are not good, I came up with Amon Dartha. It was when I was redrafting that I realised Amon Darthir had existed actually in Dor-lomin(!!!) and the name was even more perfect symbolically than I'd meant it to be! Did I know that, unconsciously? I don't know.

You can see, too, that the Sea of Ekkaia was almost the very first point to hit me, and that I knew it and the scene there would be important, and that I knew that the story was about Fingon finding a way to tell Gil-galad that he had been loved, and wanted, and that meant talking about Maedhros; and that at the end I wanted Gil-galad to be gently, impersonally, firmly clear that he would not, could not, be staying to wait with Fingon.

Okay, DVD commentary proper - I'm sorry, I remember awfully little about writing this, given the fugue state and my thesis and everything, so I'm not sure how useful this will be!

“Oh,” said Gil-galad when they broke out of the woods and began to ride down over the dune-lands to the rocky shore. “Oh!”

The Sea of Ekkaia was beautiful, in its own way, but that way that was like no other place in Arda, in either Aman or Middle Earth.

It was a dark-blue that was almost black, even in the late afternoon, and the shore was less sand than gravel, a strange inconsistent rubble of rock and broken sea-shells that had been dashed to pieces by the constant fury of the waves. Staring out to sea, one did not see the far-away horizon the way one did on the gentler coast of Belegaer: there was no gentle faraway blue haze through which one might, perhaps, on a clear day, imagine that Middle Earth could be glimpsed, or at least the Straight Path.

No: instead along the horizon there was a seam of silver light, and then a great blackness, where the Sea of Ekkaia met the Uttermost West that was not quite the Doors of Night, but was certainly the end of Aman itself. If you stood on the shore watching, the seam would ripple with a pulse of light, sometimes green and sometimes white.

It was so far from anywhere the Eldar of Valinor lived. While they clustered around the Belegaer like moths to flame, this shore seemed instead to repel them. Was it the sight of the world’s end itself? It might be; yet Fingon thought there was more to why this wilderness was so little visited, this howling black sea lashing itself against a grey shore. It was beautiful, but not in the way Elves liked things to be beautiful: it was too raw, too unfinished, too savage.

It was too close to where Mandos kept his Halls, which were not only a thing of spirit but also matter, at least in the way that things in Aman were both. Too close to where Nienna’s tower looked out into the Void and where she wept, and wept, and wept. It was too close to death and to rebirth, to judgment and to pity.

There's a little Dawn Treader, I think, in this idea of the uttermost West. I don't know why I thought the seam of the world should pulse with strange light, but it's an uncanny kind of geography, so near Mandos and Nienna, and I like the sense that this is the end of the world, but not the end of the universe.

A lot of this came together serendipitously. I knew some kind of memorialisation of the river that bore Gil-galad needed to be part of his story; that meant going to the sea; and it's clear from the notes that I had already decided that couldn't mean Alqualonde because of kinslaying reasons and memories. (And that that too would need to be confronted). Therefore: roadtrip to Ekkaia. Therefore, the question: what would Ekkaia be like? We don't really know anything about it - only the good qualities of Belegaer. This was really written by a process of inversion, a way of pulling what we know about Belegaer inside-out, and imagining a place at the world's edge, a place that was empty, a place that was uncannily close to difficult things, to Mandos and Nienna; a place that seemed to repel the Eldar as surely as Belegaer drew them like iron filings.

I was thinking visually about New Zealand, too. I spent my childhood summers on the beaches up north, mostly around Tūtūkākā, which are bright and lovely, with golden or white or tawny sand, with gnarled pohutukawa and blue-green water. Like this:

That's what beach and sea meant to me, and it was a shock the first time I went to one of the black sand beaches where the wind howled and the colours weren't blue, green, gold, but iron, grey, navy, black. I loved it, but it felt so other, so passionate, so strange. That shock and that wild beauty and desolation were things I wanted to get at, though Ekkaia would be far more wild and desolate still.

They left the horses in the thin sea-grass, and their shoes, too, and walked down to the water. “I missed it,” Gil-galad said, and closed his eyes, breathing in the brine. “I missed it badly, all the long years besieging Mordor before I died.”

I think Gil-galad would be very marked by his upbringing first in the Falas and then on Balar; you don't lose that, if you grew up by the sea.

The wind took up his long dark hair and made a banner of it as they walked along the rough crescent of rocky ground where the waves met the shore, and around their bare ankles small stones tumbled back and forth in the lace-edge of the water.

When I was young I used to stand in the water and let the waves bury me up to my ankles, watching the water move in, out, spreading skirts of lace overlapping as new waves came in. I could do it for hours. There's something very liminal about the water's edge, between the solid land and the sea, which is why I put this conversation in it, I think. They're in a liminal space and at a liminal moment. It's the scene the whole story has been inexorably building toward, the point where all Fingon's painful scraping-away of his barriers finally reaches his skin.

“Sometimes in Middle Earth it became very difficult to believe in the Valar,” Gil-galad said, his eyes still closed, “in the blood, and the mud, and the filth. There were so many great and small unfairnesses, day upon day, year upon year.” He opened his eyes and looked towards the Uttermost West where the world ended. “And here it is impossible not to. Look at it!"

This is a little more hopeful than the original version, which I don't have anymore, but went pretty much:

"Sometimes in Middle Earth it was very difficult to believe in the Valar,” Gil-galad said. "In the blood, and the mud, and the filth. There were so many great and small unfairnesses, day upon day, year upon year.”

It was a comment more about Gil-galad's rueful scepticism than wonder - because he fought the Dagorlad before he died, because he spent the last ten years of his life in mud and blood and filth and horror. I work on the First World War - its literary legacy and traces in the decades after, more than its immediate experience or actuality, because there was a ten-year period after 1918 where it was more latent than overt, a traumatic lacuna of silence, a Nachträglichkeit- and I thought in the blood, and the mud, and the filth was a little too on the nose.

I kept it, though, because Tolkien was drawing on his own memories of the trenches with the Dagorlad and the Dead Marshes, with those blurred lines of solid land and mud/bog, the living mixed up with the remains of with the dead, all the themes you see again and again in the war poetry and the officer war-books. (Santanu Das is very good on this, as is Eric Leed). Paul Fussell is a bit old-hat now, but his argument that WWI altered the sensibility of its survivors because of their close, consanguinous co-existence with the dead is something I still find valuable. I think there's a lot of WWI survivor in the way I think of Gil-galad, actually, I'm just realising - not that he survived the Last Alliance. He's detached in a different way from Fingon. Fingon's built himself a thick layer of repression/denial, a kind of callous to protect himself from confronting or thinking about what Maedhros did, and what that means for him and to him; Gil-galad is entirely present, but somewhat detached in some ways, the way people who came back from war could be. Not that Fingon and Finrod aren't also separated from the Amanyar by their time in Beleriand and experience of war and death, but Gil-galad lived there for millennia, and he fought a longer, harder, more total kind of war than they did.

But he's at the Sea of Ekkaia, as west as you can get. So much of Tolkien is about that endless longing glance west, that movement: why is this very westernmost edge so under-explored?

I wanted Gil-galad to be softened by this encounter with the sea, so I went back and let his wonder be as much at the spectacle itself as the sea, like the greater hand at work he had sometimes doubted being visible was something wonderful rather than something to be bitter about. I wanted to position him to be potentially open to, perhaps, the Valar; perhaps, to Fingon. I hope he doesn't come off as closed-minded: I think of him as having a fair mind, and good judgment, but - despite placing him here between the sea and the shore - very clear personal lines between what he thinks is just, and what is not. Certainly, it helps a lot, never having known the Feanorians when they had not fallen.

The seam of the universe pulsed with light, and beyond it was – what?

Unutterable nothingness, something worse than death.

Perhaps Maedhros.

This is an important line for Fingon. He hasn't though the name of his own accord for much of the story, flinching away from it; it's only come in when Finrod and then Gil-galad speak the name. This is the first time he's thought it clearly of his own free will, and this is I think the first signal that he's brought Gil-galad here to be as honest and earnest with him as he can be, however much it hurts, or however much it might drive him away. Because if he isn't, and doesn't, Gil-galad will be driven away anyway, and Fingon wants to be connected with him, the first time he's wanted that kind of bond with anyone since he returned.

(I think of Finrod as someone who just kept turning up, regularly, and forcing Fingon to associate with him; and then bringing Amarie; and then his children; and not taking no for an answer. It bothers Turgon rather terribly that they seem to be friends now, when they were never that close Before: that Fingon pushes him away, but allows Finrod to keep pushing; that Finrod does push. He doesn't know about Gil-galad, of course).

He's brought Gil-galad here to show him if possible that he was wanted, to conjure up lost Ringwil where she might be felt if not found; and to do the same for Maedhros. This is a signal that this journey to the sea is as much about Gil-galad's missing father as his missing mother.

The almost-forgotten tang of salt in the air always mingled with the smell of blood in Fingon’s worst memories, and he was not the only one who remembered. The waves were gentle around Gil-galad’s feet, but they boiled furiously around Fingon’s, delivering small spiteful slaps at his calves.

Spiteful was probably the wrong word here. I don't necessarily mean a dramatic boiling or bubbling; but the water is harsh where it touches him, the kind of slapping roughness you get when the tide is coming in rough.

It took Gil-galad longer to mark the difference, engrossed in the joy of the sea and spectacle as he was, and when he did, his face changed. There was something terribly sad in his eyes when he lifted them from the water to look at Fingon.

It wasn’t why he had brought Gil-galad here; but Fingon didn’t want to imagine the look he would receive if he brushed aside the silent question. “No,” he said. “I am not forgiven.”

“So I see.”

They could probably leave it there.

But Fingon won't, because he's trying. He's really trying to connect after all the time flinching away from it, and he's remembering what Gil-galad said about talking, and what Finrod said about mistakes and silences in their first life.

He said, “You said you loathed the thought of being the son of – a murderer. But my own hands have not been clean since Alqualondë, and death didn’t unstain them. All the time you thought I might be your father, you must have known I was a Kinslayer, too.”

I tried to signal this in their earlier tower conversation with Finrod, and Gil-galad's changing of the topic, but I feel like it's a little abrupt here.

“Yes,” Gil-galad said, and his expression didn’t change. “And when the knights that had served you came to me, they told me that you killed that day in ignorance, that you came upon a battle already being fought; that you took up your sword to save those you loved and didn’t question whether it was just. I heard that from others, too, those who had less reason to bend facts to a flattering pattern; survivors of Gondolin and of Nargothrond. I did ask."

“Ignorance wasn’t an excuse. I died ashamed of it, and I live again with the shame.”

"Good!” said Gil-galad, and there was no forgiveness in his voice, even when Fingon jerked his head up in shock. Instead there was the stern ring of a king used to weighing the ideals of justice against the world as it was, the king who had walked arm in arm with Eonwë the Maia, led his people through many full-fledged wars, and held court and meted justice to them for an Age. “That gives me a far better opinion of you than any of the stories did! I’m glad.”

I remember talking to you about this in the comments, about what it meant that Gil-galad wasn't forgiving him. I think I really meant condone, but I also don't think it's Gil-galad's place to absolve Fingon - he wasn't the one wronged! - and that it's important to me that, because Fingon does truly regret it, he doesn't wish to be absolved, to slide away from it. I don't mean he ought to wallow in it or flog himself with it daily, but I think it would be important to him to shoulder and own that guilt rather than ever allowing himself to put it behind him or have someone else tell him it’s quite all right.

I think this is a moment where I show that they're quite similar, too, because even if Fingon wasn't aware that a bracing, clear assessment was just what he wanted, it was what he needed, rather than people being kind (which he's had a lot of, since he returned; and which hasn't touched that central guilt he's hidden from them, that he loved Maedhros, who had done such terrible things. It's prevented him from accepting kindness made him block people reaching out to him. Gil-galad is not being kind, but just, and still reaching out).

It felt like Fingon had been struggling to take a full lungful of air for a long time, and now something constricting in his chest had loosened, as it hadn’t even after the Valar themselves had judged him. It was only now that he realised that he hadn’t wanted Gil-galad to forgive or absolve him. He had wanted – needed – Gil-galad to be better than him, to withhold forgiveness when it was unmerited; and Gil-galad had. He had become the shining legacy they had all hoped he would be, the thing they had all somehow done right.

The water slapped at his ankles again, in impatient reminder.

This is too brief a transition. I should have fleshed the join out more.

“I think Ulmo would come to you here, if you called. You were a king by the sea in Middle Earth, and you may not remember it, but it was a river who gave you life.”

Gil-galad looked at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “What?”

“I brought you here for a reason,” Fingon said. “Where did they go, the drowned and poisoned rivers of Beleriand? I don’t know; but Ulmo might.”

I've really personified the rivers, but I think it's a clear and easy extrapolation from the Withywindle and the River-daughter in The Fellowship of the Ring that I don't need to justify in order to argue that every river might have had its own attendant Maia-spirit. It does make what happened to the Rivers of Beleriand much worse, though, and I wanted to look at the way a character that was a throwaway mechanism in scion ended up being sickened and dying as horribly as Beleriand did; this story was really about following all those lighter bits in scion home, to the end of the line, and looking at the long-term impacts of something that began more lightly. In this verse, Ringwil was a river, but also a person; and I think of her and Finrod as sharing a strange human-river friendship and overlapping enthusiasms.

He clapped Gil-galad on the shoulder, hoping it said all the things he meant it to say. Affection had been so easy for him once, in the life that had been taken from him by the fiery flails of the Balrogs, but now it came hard, and the sea-smell was in his nose, the terrible memories too close to the surface.

He had surely outstayed Ulmo’s tolerance by now. Fingon left Gil-galad there in the water, and didn’t dare glance back until there was thin sandy soil under his feet again.

Only then did he look once more towards the sea.

Gil-galad was standing in the shallows. His broad shoulders were bunched tight, as if he was readying himself for something very difficult, a confrontation with one of the Valar he had long doubted.

Then he spread his arms out, empty-handed, and tipped his head back, and the light on the horizon grew unbearably bright, whiter than white, more silver than silver; and a face began to move upon the water.

I really like this, honestly. Which I can't/don't say often! The temptation to overwrite this was strong, to show this encounter, to describe the Vala: but I think it's often stronger not to show something numinous, to pull away, to let the mind fill it in.

Again, this is Gil-galad as I imagine him: still somewhat distanced from the Valar by the Dagorlad and the things that happened there (and I think perhaps doubly unhappy in that he lived through the end of an Age once before, and that time, at least, the Valar came: they did not come in the Second, nor send so much as a messenger, and such obscenities as the fall of Ost-in-Edhil and the drowning of Numenor had been allowed to happen, and Men and Elves were left alone to come together and break Sauron's grip). Doubting, but not angry; doubting, but still curious. Open to listening.

a face began to move upon the water is of course a deliberate sideways reference to

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

It took a very long time. Fingon could not watch; his eyes dazzled.

Can you tell I was teaching The Duchess of Malfi at this time? Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young. That sense of a light too bright and white to look upon; that sense of guilt; that faint reference to life lost untimely. This wasn't meant to be a direct intertextual reference, but that net of meaning was there, lightly. Again, I wanted to under-write rather than over-write. I know I have a tendency to over-write.

And of course - there's a sense here that Fingon is refusing the kind of close enoucnter with Ulmo he could/might have. There's water in his eyes. From the wind?

“Thank you,” Gil-galad said when he rejoined him at last. His eyes were glowing, and he whistled Ceredir to him from where he was tearing ropey roots of sea-grass from the dunes with great relish. “Thank you for bringing me here;” and he didn’t say it the way he’d thanked Fingon for the horse, or the armour, or the sword, or even the lance.

Because this is a real gift, something that means something to both of them, something more honest/painful. Fingon's been trying to connect through gifts but not serious conversation or sharing, like some estranged parents do, throwing money at the problem rather than giving of their time or their selves, and however well-meant, it hasn't worked.

“I didn’t truly do anything."

“You brought me to the Sea. I know – I could see – how difficult it was for you."

"Well,” Fingon said lamely. He cleared his throat. “What did Lord Ulmo say about – oh, I can’t call her your dam! – the Maia who bore you? Did she – was she there?”

The dam pun is Finrod's. Don't blame me.

A little of the light dimmed, but it didn’t quite fade away. “No, she’s gone. Back to the Timeless Halls, he says; but one with him again, Ulmo, at the same time.” Gil-galad made a noise. “I don’t pretend to understand any of it, all the metaphysical nonsense of the Ainur! But he was kind to me, and he told me something of her – that she delighted in the making of me.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “I left the flowers we gathered earlier in the waves for her and the sea didn’t dash them back onto the shore. I’m sure Ulmo broke a few laws of Arda there.”

I like this image of the flowers suspended in the water. I had it clearly in mind from before I began to write.

"You were wanted.”

“I’m beginning to believe it,” Gil-galad said.

“You should,” Fingon said. He took a breath. Talking is how you sort things out; and a long time ago, Fingon had been known for his valour. Gil-galad deserved to know how much he had been wanted, who had called himself a political compromise given birth. The truth of that had stung.

And it was less than the truth. Fingon could still remember the first time he had opened his mind to Maedhros over the leagues between them and let him see Gil’s small face through his own eyes, holding nothing back. He had shown Maedhros the dark long lashes and the squashed baby nose, the milk-blister on the bow of Gil’s upper lip, the way his whole head turned an alarming red when he wailed; shared with Maedhros Gil’s fondness for being tossed in the air, his splashing joy in his bath.

This is is me trying to describe a baby without being too sentimental about it, because Fingon wasn't all, oh look at the toesie-woesies, or my son, my son: his eye was more detached, and you see him in scion thinking of Gil-galad as it.

I've been thinking about why Fingon in no way allowed himself to consciously dote on the baby, why that streak of denial that's so strong in his second life was there in his first light, and really: it would have been dangerous to let himself love him, to see Gil as his son and Maedhros's. He was born at a time of terrible loss, after the Flame, when they all expected they could die themselves. He was moved around Beleriand like a game-piece. Fingon was always going to lose him: he wasn't going to get to raise him, after all, until and unless Morgoth was defeated. Maedhros wasn't going to meet him, until and unless &c. It was easier not to let oneself get attached than it was to confront those hard facts and let oneself be hurt by them. Easier to think of him as a baby Finwean prince, and that only: a political pawn, not a son.

Conversely, Maedhros maintains a physical distance, but not an emotional one. Here's a bit from Maedhros's perspective:

Finrod had told him that. They had written, back and forth, in the long months as Ringwil’s belly swelled, as the child formed, as it began to move and stretch and turn frog-like inside her. They had corresponded constantly during the first months of the child’s life in Nargothrond, and during the first months of his life, Finrod had sent long scrolls detailing every change in Artanaro’s weight, his length, his hair colour, his eye colour, how much milk he’d consumed each day: screeds winging forth to Himring until the child was old enough to survive the secret trip north.

Fingon’s letters had been infuriatingly spare of useful information while the child was fostered at Barad Eithel. Beloved, ineloquent Fingon: Fingon, who had nevertheless shown him the child as no reams of paper could.

Fingon had given him forever the rounded bloom of his full cheeks, and the pursed mouth, sullen in sleep: the feathery, rather cross-looking eyebrows, and the small hands with their deep dimples and smaller fingernails, curled into the edge of Fingon’s furred mantle.

Maedhros had felt the way Fingon hovered between wonder and confusion at what they’d wrought: the way he couldn’t quite manage to think of the child as his own, this thing spun out of air and calculation and freshwater into heavy, solid life. He could have loved him so desperately, Maedhros knew that. He was halfway there, hovering in terror on the edge, afraid of falling. If the baby had stayed in Barad Eithel longer; if Fingon had watched him begin to creep around on fat little knees, to pull himself up on the furniture and to take his first steps – to hear the baby babble turn into words and speech – his heart would have opened to him like a flower, and the child would have become the centre of his universe, the sun in his sky.

Fingon had never known what to do with Idril as an infant, either, but he’d easily become an adored uncle as she grew up. If they’d had more time – if the child had been permitted to stay with Fingon even a month longer before being sent for safety to Cirdan –

Well, they’d never had enough time.

There had been few walls between them then, so he had felt Maedhros’s bright joy, the painful love, in its moment of birth: swelling and swelling like a cloud with rain, as though his heart was growing and his blood was leaking out of him at the same time, transmuting into pure tenderness and iron purpose.

I like this because I think of the Ekkaia scene as a cloudburst, full of emotion that has been swelling and swelling and now released. This is one bit of the breaking-through.

He had never needed to ask whether Maedhros considered Gil-galad a son.

“I don’t want to talk about – him,” Fingon said with difficulty, and the salt breeze stung his face, his eyes. “I know you loathe him, and rightly; and I do, too. I do hate him; or I hate what he did. I do! But you should know – you deserve to – that he wanted you, badly, although he never met you; he never wanted the shadow on him to touch you or to taint you.

And this. You can see here where I spun off into cliffs of fall, which isn't a scion story, but sprung out of this speech. It was already there in those sketchy notes, too, a lot of what Fingon's saying here: this important line about hating Maedhros, or what he did (that movement from clear certainty to trying to separate the deeds from the loved one; to urgent reptition - I do! I mean it, I really do! - which means he doesn't, can't: this is the heart of Fingon's guilt, because he wants to hate Maedhros utterly, but he can't, and he is profoundly in denial about that).

“He always wanted children; I took that from him even before the Oath did, but I gave it back to him with you. I loved you first of all for that, but he loved you for yourself. Because you existed, against all hope and possibility and fate and chance; and because you were ours.”

Gil-galad said nothing. There was still a wildflower tucked behind his ear, but the brilliance had quite left his eyes.

“Well,” Fingon said at last. “I needed to tell you that. You should know that you were never – not only – you were wanted very much."

Beloved ineloquent Fingon, &c.

They were some miles from the beach when Gil-galad said, “‘Ours’?”

“Yes."

I was trying to let the gaps and breaks talk for me in the text. Under-writing.

The beginning was full of these little breaks, too, because they didn't yet know how to talk to each other; now at the end, that connection, and their conversations, are breaking down again. It's echoing that ride together at the beginning very strongly, but now it's not Gil-galad trying to become acquainted and Fingon giving light, unsatisfying answers. These are the real questions/answers at last, and the whole story has really been about getting to the point of Fingon and Gil-galad in Aman where they actually could have the kind of conversation Gil-galad was trying to have at the start.

Some miles further, Fingon said, “Did you ever meet him in Beleriand? After I died. I always wondered.”

“No,” Gil-galad said.

It didn’t seem like he was going to speak again, and Fingon had begun to assimilate that knowledge, that pain – that Maedhros had never seen him, had only ever known him through Fingon’s own eyes – when he added,

“But I saw what he did. Have you ever seen a whole city ruined, and known the ruiners to be Elves? It wasn’t even a city, poor Sirion! It was a refuge, a place for the desperate, as far to the West as they could get, as close to the safety of the Sea. They had so very little. No great stone palaces, no towers, no spires. Little enough fresh food. They were able to grow so little, and they lived on fish, and sea-weed, and what brave hunting parties would bring back; and hope. They lived on hope, and they thought Elwing wore it around her throat, but the Valar didn’t come for them: Maedhros Fëanorion and his brothers did instead, and they burned and killed and ravaged. I’d say they salted the earth, but it was salt already. To fall on any innocent Elven city would be a horror: on poor Sirion it was the greatest cruelty I ever saw, and entirely pointless."

They said nothing more.

I like this, too, actually. You see a little here of why Gil-galad might be healthily sceptical of the Valar - they didn't come for them: Maedhros Feanorion and his brothers did instead - and that very post-war experience of seeing a descrated, destroyed town. Worse when you had seen it when it was whole, when you knew the dead and fled.

Sirion is, I think, the worst thing the Feanorions did. I find it worse than even Doriath or Alqualonde (though they're all awful!). These were desperate survivors, huddled together at the edge of the sea for protection. So many of their leaders had been killed or lost. Idril and Tuor had disappeared; Earendil was away; Maedhros and the others struck while only Elwing was there, and she was so young, and so alone, and so damaged already by what they'd done in Doriath. And now they’d come again. There's something about the revictimisation that gets me. It's awful.

I wanted it to be weight and counter-weight - that soft, painful, remembered moment of Maedhros seeing baby Gil-galad through Fingon's eyes, something Fingon has clearly not deliberately thought about since he was reborn, but dredges up now for Gil-galad, because he should know: and which is echoed in the beginning by Fingon's question to Finrod. But Maedhros is still the person who did the things he did, and I wanted to set that soft moment of truth against his deeds at Sirion, another truth, to point out clearly why Gil-galad would recoil so hard from this offering, this honesty Fingon wants to be able to give him. This is the dichotomy at the heart of the story: reconciling Maedhros and how one felt for him with what he did, and how one feels about that. It is irresolvable, at least for Fingon, at least at the moment I've ended it at for now.

I don't know if this is quite what you wanted, @warrioreowynofrohan, especially because like I said, I wrote this story in a frantic fog, but I hope this in some way suffices!

#not!fic

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hayleyb100 · 3 years

Text

The Ribbon, Part 2

Part 1

❗️ Notes

-TRIGGERS INCLUDED: SCHOOL BULLYING AND ANGST WITH FAMILY -This is a dedicated story of the swap version of my OC Richard(Father of Raihan) and his granddaughter, the shipchild of Leon and Raihan called Ari. -The character Ari belongs to @weclownstoday. Huge appreciations for letting me add her to the story!

An uncomfortable silence filled the whole room. Richard saw the girl scanning him from top to bottom, just like how he is doing the same. Without the girl having to explain, Richard could feel in his intuition that she is his granddaughter. She had the purple hair that looks so familiar to him: The unique hair color of the Former Champion of Galar, who got married to his son Raihan. It was on the news headline for years. On top of that, she also had the peculiar turquoise-colored eyes that are passed down in his Pendragon family.

As Richard's face frowned more from trying to investigate who the girl is, she fiddled with her wooden doll nervously. Richard's dragon glare is already scary as it is, so it was far worse for a child who is left alone with a stranger.

"Who are you?" why, that is such a sweet first question for a child.

"......." she only stared back at Richard, grabbing the doll closer.

"......." Richard stared her back, making the atmosphere even more awkward.

The girl finally made a move other than fiddling her doll. She hesitantly put her hand in a pocket, pulled out a slightly crumpled paper, and gave it to Richard.

Richard was pleading his intuition was wrong. A child that resembles him standing in front of a stranger's home in the middle of the night alone with a note to give him? It was obvious but he wished his intuition was wrong and silly for once. But his intuition was written precisely on the paper. Familiar handwriting of his son-in-law, the Champion, he sees as a Gym Leader was there. It claimed they can't care for the child anymore and sending her for his care.

That short message pushed Richard to the whole chaos of emotions. He first got extremely upset for them deciding this without a word of discussion with him. He was also confused on how to explain this situation to the child since it was obvious they didn't explain this to the child. There was no way a child can be so calm and collected when their parents dumped her in front of a stranger's door. Another wave of rage overwhelmed as Richard realized those two irresponsible parents tossed the hard part of the explanation to him. It was even more difficult since, it may sound ridiculous, but he didn't even know about his granddaughter's existence.

'What a beautiful first encounter for sure,' thought Richard.

'Normally, I expect this kind of the first encounter in the maternity ward, right after their birth, or at least right after they are discharged from the hospital.'

He inhaled deeply, asked the girl to stay here while he went to call alone in the room. The number he desperately wanted to call for decades but honestly scared not to.

"Hello?" a familiar woman's voice came.

"...Aliyah."

"Richard..." an awkward silence filled the whole atmosphere.

"Did she arrive there well?"

Richard sneered to suppress rage.

"So, the first thing you ask from getting a call from your ex-husband after decades is how is your abandoned granddaughter?" a clear snap with rage. Richard couldn't help it.

"It would have been nice of you to at least told me of her existence before doing something so reckless. What is all this?"

"Richard, please don't say that... We didn't have a choice."

"Oh? I heard the Chairman, your father, passed away three years ago. So who ordered you to do this now? Are you still the same old woman who can't decide anything on your own?"

"......." after a brief silence, Richard hears someone snatching the phone.

"Hello?"

Richard's heart drops, as the voice pierces into his ears and tears his heart in two.

"...Raihan."

"I'm surprised you remember my name, considering you abandoned me for your career as a Gym Leader."

Richard was lost for words.

"Is that what your mother told you?" even at Richard's shaky voice, Raihan interrupted.

"Doesn't matter who says what now, is it? You abandoned me, and that's the only fact here."

Richard falls into silence since it's true. No matter if it was his shitty father-in-law who threatened him, his wife wasn't cooperative, and the world turning a cold shoulder, he DID leave his son behind.

"Well? You did me wrong, so at least take care of my mistake."

"...Please do not tell me that you just addressed your daughter as a mistake."

"What? It's what you think of me, so can't I say the same? It's what I learned from you."

NO, RAIHAN, NO!! Richard nearly screamed, but something stopped him.

"I don't even know if I'll ever forgive you for caring about my mistake, but eh... Whatever." with that as of last, the long-overdue phone call ends.

Richard couldn't breathe from the pain. He thought he did what was right to protect his son, but he is now engraved in his son's heart as a horrible father and the butterfly effect from that is about to tear his grandchild's life apart. He started to question all his decisions and motives. His life is about to crumble down. But the grimmest thing of all is that he isn't even allowed to do that. He knew that girl needs a caretaker and there is no way he'll send her away somewhere else. Not after what happened to him and his son.

He stroked his face to calm down and went out to the living room where his granddaughter is.

________________________________

She was still fiddling her doll, showing a clear sign of anxiety. Richard took a sharp inhale and called her.

"Umm... Your name is?"

"Ari..." she said shortly, looking down at her tip of the toes.

"I see... Greetings. My name is Richard Pendragon."

He was as anxious as the girl, since judging from Raihan's attitude, it was obvious how Aliyah and his son described him to his daughter.

"...Ari. Please listen to me carefully." another inhale.

"From today onward, I will take care of you. You are staying here with me, your grandfather. Alright?"

Richard thought it would be better for Ari's sake to open everything up before she finds out everything later and gets more pain.

"O... Okay..." Ari said nervously. "For how long?"

Richard's throat got blocked with intense torment. How can he dare to just bluntly answer 'forever' when she has no idea that her parents abandoned her and she is solely believing her parents would get her later?

"For... as long as we have to." Richard ended up giving a vague answer where he didn't lie but wasn't clear either.

Richard had no idea what to do with a little girl, so he started by shopping the stuff for her like clothes and children's books. She came with a suitcase of clothes but that was not enough. He didn't know what's popular among girls these days so he bought a pink ribbon as an accessory.

Ari had no idea why her grandpa was buying so many clothes when she's just going to stay for a couple of days until her dads come to get her. But since she heard all the horrible and scary things about her grandpa from her father, she just listened and followed him around without arguing. Sooner or later, the old storage room next to Richard's room turned into a lovely room for a little girl. Ari still was in wonder, but just watched how things go. She realized her grandpa wasn't too awful like her father described. He cooked some delicious food for all three meals and although clumsy, he tried his best to tie her hair and dress her. He also registered her to the local trainer's school to get appropriate lessons.

But that's when Ari started to feel something's wrong.

If dad is coming to get her soon, why would her grandpa register her to a school?

________________________________

She still was in denial until days turned into months and months turned into years without any contact from her parents.

"Umm, s, sir?" Ari nervously called him.

"Yes, Ari?"

"Can I call my father?"

"............."

Richard hesitated. But in his head, he knew the answer. He can't hoard a secret like this. Look how keeping that secret from his son ruined the relationship between him and his son.

"Ari, umm... Your father will not come for you. Do you remember I said you will have to stay here as long as you have to? It means..." Richard just couldn't continue. The pain came back at his granddaughter's frowning face.

"N- no!" Ari shook her head in denial. But deep within, she already knows what her grandpa is telling her is true. She tumbled on the floor and started wailing.

"Dad! Father! I'm sorry, I won't be naughty again! Please come and get me!"

Ari's helpless tears brought Richard down to his knees too. He was so sorry for her, thinking everything that happened is because of his foolish choice.

#gym leader richard #lady aliyah #pokemon ari #pokemon OC #Pokemon AU #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #ceo raihan

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stxleslyds · 3 years

Note

EVENT LEVIATHAN issues 2 and 3

EVENT LEVIATHAN BUT IT’S ONLY JASON TODD.

Oh, Anon, I am sorry it took me so long to answer your ask, to be honest with you, I had completely forgotten this book ever happened and when I went looking for it, I saw who was the writer for it and my brain disconnected completely.

Michael Brian Bendis, what a polarizing writer. I had forgotten why I didn’t like his work much but this book made me remember that his writing gives me headaches. I swear, every time I read his work I am left wondering if I missed an issue or a page, it’s like I always lack information even though he makes sure to write a lot in those “monologue boxes”.

But I am not here to complain about Bendis, let’s talk about why Jason appears in this book and how is he characterized in it.

If you don’t know what Event Leviathan was about, in the first issue we are told that a terrorist has been attacking places simultaneously. This person, known as Leviathan collected some of the people that survived the attacks (like Batgirl), and others he let escape (like Green Arrow). All of the attacks were on organizations (A.R.G.U.S, Spyral, D.O) that were the pillars of the world intelligence community.

Because the case is big and operating on a big scale, several detectives and heroes (Batman, Robin, The Question, Lois Lane, Plastic Man, and Manhunter) have come together to figure out who is behind Leviathan’s mask.

In the second issue, their main suspect is Jason Todd after Damian suggests that Jason’s “special war on crime” can be related to this worldwide level of terrorist activity.

Well, If you couldn’t tell by the way that I phrased that, I really believe that DC and Bendis had to do some weird changes to the narratives because Jason hadn’t been really at “war with crime” for a very long time, or at the very least, not on that level (against organizations selling/controlling intelligence). So, right of the bat, I am confused as all hell.

Jason at this point in time was working as the Ice Lunge’s owner, so this was after the events of RHatO (2016) #25 and after Roy Harper’s death. But before I get to explaining why Damian and the others thought that Jason was behind Leviathan’s terrorist attacks, let's talk about Jason’s characterization.

How to write about a character based only on “tropes” that the publisher of the book told you. A Guide by Michael Brian Bendis.

We find Red Hood in Seattle, already investigating Leviathan. So, yeah, to me it was kind of obvious that Bendis put Jason there to build up the reason as to why Jason was the main suspect of being Leviathan or working with them.

We are offered some very casual banter with Batman as well as the ever-present subplot of Jason caring for Barbara Gordon. I am not a fan of whatever DC was and is trying to do when it comes to Jason and his crush on a person that he barely knew and has rejected him before. Bendis was probably told to put that there, I really don’t see Jason going out of his way to ask if Barbara is final but oh well.

In that panel we also see Jason say this to Batman, “can we put away the stuff between us so we can work on the case?” to which Batman answers, “of course”.

What the hell was that? First Batman beats the living shit out of Jason (Jason even says that he never saw Bruce hit the Joker as hard as he was hitting him) and rips the bat-symbol of his suit saying that they no longer work together or whatever, then we have Bruce going to Jason to tell him that Roy is dead, he gives him a hug but then proceeds to tell Jason that he is still banned from Gotham.

DC really reduced all that to “stuff between us”, alright, all I am getting from that is that I was right when I said that DC lets Batman get away with his horrible treatment of his kids as if it just were a subplot. Lovely, I hate being right.

But that’s not really what I want to discuss, I want to discuss the level of detective/investigation skills that Jason has got going on for him in this issue. Suddenly Jason has information about what happens with organizations like Spyral, ARGUS, and DEO? And then Bruce asks Jason if he has been in contact with Talia recently?

I am not mad about those last things, don’t get me wrong, Jason being good at investigating and him being (possibly) in contact with Talia are great things BUT they don’t fit in his story anymore.

Where is this Jason coming from, it must not be from the narrative that Lobdell had going on, Jason never showed much interest in keeping up with that side of the world or in doing detective work. And his relationship with Talia was downgraded a lot, basically, all Talia had done was keep an eye on Jason since she first met him before he was robin (yeah, that was a thing that happened as told in RHatO (2011) #25) and that how she found out that he died, after he came back from the dead, she put him in a Lazarus Pit and then sent him to the All-Castle so he could become Ducra’s apprentice. That’s literally it.

Or are we working with a Jason that maintains his Lost Days origins? There isn’t time on the timeline for that to have happened so his involvement in this book and the way that they are writing him is very confusing to me.

Jason doesn’t say anything about Talia except that he pulls an Uno reverse card on Bruce and asks him if he has been in contact with Talia. But just like many things with Bendis as a writer we never really hear any of them say anything about Talia and they continue talking about something else.

Alright, back to sharing what they found it is! Jason has apparently investigated this very closely because he cannot stop bringing up the fact that the attacks leave no bodies behind. Either people escape or vanish from the attack site.

But here is where the so-awaited “Batfamily” mention comes in. After Bruce tells Jason that he is putting a team of Detectives together Jason asks this, “we can’t keep this in the Batfamily?” Gods, was DC on crack when they wrote this? The Batfamily? Honestly? Two of your best detectives are not around to help you and your so-called family left Dick Grayson all alone in Bludhaven!

What Batfamily are you talking about Jason? You, Bruce, and Damian? I can’t with DC pushing and pushing the wildest concept in their universe.

After all that Batman spends a lot of time explaining what has happened or what was supposed to happen, he talks to Jason about how the other detectives were getting closer to retrieve a body that they needed to study. In between what Batman is explaining the scene of Plastic Man talking with Leviathan happens and there Leviathan says that they know each other. So, that’s a clue, whoever is behind the mask is someone that Plastic Man has met before.

We find out that Batman was retelling that story to Jason, so Jason starts putting the pieces together. Batman already has a team, they know that Leviathan has been spearing some heroes’ lives, there is a cause for all the attacks (“a new world order”), and that the attacks leave no bodies. Jason even begins to put together the list of suspects but then Jason asks Batman if they have their number one suspect and Batman says, “Yes”, and it’s Jason!

This is so funny to me, like what? How did they come to that conclusion? Luckily Bendis “explains” the Detectives’ team’s reasoning, I guess? They take turns to ask Jason basic questions that Jason deflects from some reason? It is so dumb.

From this page the most important thing that I gathered is that Damian (the one who initially accused Jason of being Leviathan) says that he doesn’t “think that you (Jason) know you are doing any of this. I think it manifested itself out of grief”.

What? A terrorist that has some sort of technology that makes explosions that leaves no bodies and spares some people’s lives, is being manifested by Jason because Roy Harper died. Did I understand that correctly? That’s their big idea as to why Jason is their number one suspect?

Team of detectives, yeah, I don’t see it.

It makes zero sense! First of all, what “war with crime” was Jason having at the time, and they also say that that war was “a point of controversy for years”. Excuse me? Are they really calling Jason using guns (with rubber bullets) a SPECIAL war with crime? What are they referring to? Are they talking about the events of Under the Red Hood? Because Jason hasn’t been that version of himself in years! We don’t even know if those exact events happened in this continuity!

I am so lost; I actually don’t know why they are relating a terrorist attack to Jason. I don’t know, to me, Jason’s appearance here is unjustified and lacks logic.

Now, we find ourselves in the third issue, where an unnecessary amount of time jumping is done. First, we are in the present after both Batman and Robin let Jason run away. Listen, I know that they tried to paint it as Jason kicking both their asses but I saw those pages, they threw three punches and one of them connect with Jason’s jaw. Batman and Robin just stopped fighting Jason.

I don’t know, why they had to make Damian say that Batman let Jason get away when he was there too and did nothing.

And then they had Damian say this about Jason, “I have never been a member of his fan club but Jason Todd is one of the great master fighters of all time”. Okay, sure, Jason has had a lot of training and he has been immeasurably overpowered over the years but I still find Damian saying this a bit weird, like why would he say that? The fight that is shown after this look into the present is just like any other fight that any Bat-related hero has had. Dick has had more impressive fights than that one after the New 52 and he was immeasurably nerfed.

I love Jason getting recognition for the things that he does right and that he is good at but I need you to represent those moments better. The fight isn’t that grand and they clearly let him run away!

In the fight there all jumped off of a building, (Jason, Batman, Robin, Manhunter, Arrow, and Plastic Man) Jason shoots at everyone and they have a “fight” midair. Then Batman, Robin, and Jason fall through a glass roof and they continue fighting in a pool, this is where I say that they let Jason ran away, they showed us Damian kicking Jason in the face and Bruce punching Jason in the face. But then Jason electrifies both of them while they are in the pool? Listen, this is very nitpicky but Batman and Robin are wearing proper suits for vigilantism, if their suits aren’t prepared to receive some electric shots then wow, but also, the electricity does nothing to Jason even though he is also in the water? Jason’s Red Hood suit at the time was a pair of pants, a shirt, a vest with a hood, and some bandages on his arms… You are telling me that Jason was wearing a suit that protected him from that? Alright, I will believe it, after all, I am very dumb.

Then Jason fights Manhunter, a simple fight apparently, he doesn’t show much fighting skill because she looked like an easy target and then Jason stops fighting and decides to have a nice chat with Lois Lane.

“Why did you run?” I think he ran because a bunch of people accused him of being a terrorist and threw themselves at him at the edge of a building, what kind of question is that?

This page is just, I cannot describe how confusing it is. Lois finally asks that if it isn’t the Red Hood, then why would Leviathan try to set him up? To that Jason answers this, “I was thinking about that on the way down here. Because I am perfect. All this should be me” then he explains “I lose sleep running the numbers in my head, on how measured response to the criminals of the world brings nothing but more chaos. Batman knows this. If this Leviathan is making a big play to change the world, maybe it is the move the “crime-fighters” just don’t, will never have the guts to take. Maybe.”

What. Is. Going. On? Where did this version of Jason come from, this isn’t really in tune with UtRH Jason, RHatO Jason, or RHO Jason. This take on Jason is completely different, Jason doesn’t involve himself with threats on a worldwide scale, he doesn’t care how all heroes around the world operate, and he is not the only one that does things differently from Batman and other heroes that have similar morals.

What is this Jason saying really, is he suggesting that a global terrorist attack can lead to the reconstruction of how heroes work?

Why does Jason think that what Leviathan has going on is similar to things that Jason has done? What did Bendis read that I didn’t? How did Bendis come up with this characterization of Jason?

Because even though RHatO and RHO Jason went beyond Gotham he still fought for things that were directly aligned with his story, Ra’s al Ghul, the Untitled, Essence, all of that wasn’t on a global scale, why is he so suddenly aware of more than that, I just don’t think that his participation in this book is justified.

In these other panels he also comes off as way too aware of what is going on, and I understand that to a certain level all heroes might keep up with what going on a global scale but it seems like Jason knows way too much for someone that hasn’t been connected to those organizations and or people before.

Jason appears a little more after that but nothing of true importance is said anymore in this issue. After, Lois finishes her talk with Jason she reunites with the rest of the team and is like “It wasn’t Red Hood, let’s move on” and that’s that.

That was all Jason did in those two issues. A mix between nothing, knowing too much and him speculating about what a terrorist would want to do next.

Before I give my last thoughts about Jason and these issues, I want to share with you these panels from issue 5 of Event Leviathan.

There, Zatanna and the others confirmed it. Even though Lois listed the Red Hood as a suspect the other detectives told her that not only none of their suspects were Leviathan but that none of them were Leviathan adjacent.

OF COURSE, JASON HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH LEVIATHAN!

Here is what I think, Jason shouldn’t have been in this book, it makes less than zero sense for him to be there. Jason being set up by Leviathan had no logic whatsoever. Jason and Leviathan’s levels of “disruption” are on completely different levels.

I just don’t know why he was there.

Anon, once again I am sorry for taking so long to do this review, I hope you had fun reading this, and I hope that you have an awesome day!

#jason todd #red hood #robin #batman #event leviathan #dc comics #asksss #lois lane

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sinqrowithascythe · 3 years

Text

Torn Families, a RWBY story

Hello there! it has been a few days now and the story is ready, so here it is!

Just a warning first though, this story does feature gore, character deaths and angst.

Everyone had their reasons for attending Beacon academy, and most would tell you without so much as a second thought.

“As a girl, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the story books... Someone who fought for what was right, and protected people who couldn't protect themselves!” Ruby Rose, 15yr old combat prodigy and leader of team RWBY.

Others, however, aren’t as comfortable in disclosing the truth about their circumstances, like: The beautiful, yet closed off Blake Belladonna, Faunus in hiding and secret Ex-White Fang agent.

“The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths. They're a collection of misguided Faunus.”

Most would assume that this is where the list ends, but there is another. A third option, or category, where they’ve been truthful but they just haven’t shared the full truth.

This is where the scraggly hero of our fable is found.

When asked for the reasons behind which Jaune Arc has strived to be a Hunter and train in Beacon (which is a regular occurrence among the student body, it’s pretty obvious why), our bumbling blonde will reply with something along the lines of “To become a hero” …. “To become a great Hunter, like the warriors in my family” or “To help people” which is true….

But…there’s more to it, there always is.

Rarely does someone ever question the reason he chose this path or after any event that led to such a decision, but it does happen occasionally. Some of the first conversations with his friends and even Ms. Goodwitch herself raised the question, with Jaune himself being quick to dismiss it or just repeat himself. Forcing the subject to be left alone question, with, replacing the young Arcs would-be interrogators interests with dissatisfaction and a quick change of topic. This is where the truth remains hidden, a burden laid heavily on our young Knight’s shoulders, where he intends to keep them.

But that wouldn’t make an interesting story, so here we go!

This tale sheds light upon that which our very own Jaune Arc would keep hidden, partially for the sake of his friends, but also to keep Jaune from crying himself to sleep… again…

Long before Jaune was launched from the school’s cliff faces into the emerald forests or the acquisition of his “Vomit Boy” moniker, as courtesy of Yang, the Arc found a burning resolve to fight the creatures of Grimm and protect those who could not protect themselves that rivalled the very star he stood under.

The Arc family estate was a large, dark brick house held deep within a forest, found on an island located beyond the western coast of Sanus. Close enough to still be considered a part of the kingdom, but also far enough for people to be left in relative peace from large city environments, bandits and any extremely dangerous Grimm.

Here, the Arc family lived and prospered, laughed and loved for days and years on end, with the only real worries being the evil bath times and dreaded bedtimes, family’s patriarch receiving minor wounds from guarding the small island village (But everyone just said he looked cooler anyway, so it’s a win!) or the sisters engaging into yet another fight over something that seemed to shake the very foundations of reality to them at the time.

“That’s MY hairbrush!!”

“You have, like, 10, just let me borrow this one!”

The house was run by the matriarch and the eldest of the sisters when their father was away, keeping Grimm from presenting danger to the village where they lived. The younger sisters and Jaune often played their days away, when their mother wasn’t home schooling them in the study where she spent most of her time, even outside the education of her children.

One sunny, beautiful day, with the sun was streaming through the leaves and trees and bringing light and life to all the woodland, waking to every insect, animal and plant found within, this family would be shattered.

The green glow of the forest created a feeling similar to a protective aura of warmth and protection. Here, the four youngest Arcs find themselves running past all manner of compassionate and cool streams with looming, yet comforting trees, hiding amidst the natural playground formed by the rocks of landslides long past and prickly piles of twigs that once held strong to their larger companions. The day was not unlike any other the children had been allowed to previously play in, perfect.

The juvenile Arcs were playing their usual rounds of “Hide and Seek” or “Tag” or some of their own invention, when the eldest of the assembled four found an oddity, one which had never caught her attention before. The Arc estate held no boundaries, save the forest itself as it was separated by a long stripe of a field before another forest began, not five meters away from their own, yet the children had never travelled, nor noticed this odd circular emptiness beyond their own patch of trees. “Yeah, that is weird” The three younger members of the Arc clan agreed, “Let’s try playing in that other forest! I bet there’ll be even better hiding spots and even bigger trees to play in!”

And so, they did just that.

Back at the Arc family homestead

The eldest four daughters of the house were treated to a rather large shock while preparing lunch as their mother had, seemingly from no-where, screeched “NOO!” like a banshee might and flung herself out of her chair, falling to their kitchen floor. You see, Jaune’s mother was paralysed, on the account that after her thighs reached halfway down, they were missing, an incident that predated Jaune’s memory and of which she refused to speak, hoping she never had to tell her children and shatter their innocence. And though it placed her within a wheel chair that stopped her from performing the tasks that the oldest of the Arc spawn find themselves occupied with most days, her smile was as radiant and genuine as when her first child was born, finding real purpose in her role as a mother.

Each did their best to help their fallen mother, only to be thrown aside, much harder than they even knew their mother could push. “One of you, run to the village wall as fast as you can, find your father, tell him that Jaune and the triplets have left the stave!”

“Why?” “What does that mean?” “Huh?” Each questioned, their faces twisted with confusion and fear.

“Just GO! Right now! We don’t have time!” The oldest among the females of the home all but roared at her children, her terror evident on her face, scaring the 4 younger women. Pushing her fear aside, the eldest to ran out the door and sprinted down the trail into the town, where the guard and her father stood vigilantly, while her younger two sisters helped their mother back into her chair and checked to see what had happened.

“Mom, what’s happening?” “You scared us” “Why’d you tell Saph to get dad?”

“I’m fine, but your siblings are in danger…”

“How? We thought they were playing outside” “Yeah, they play in the forest every day! Why’s it so dangerous all of a sudden?”

“Hmmmmm…. The forest that surrounds the house is… special, you’ve seen how there’s something of a circle-like-field around the house cutting us of from the rest of the woods?” She questioned, obviously impatient and uncomfortable, much to the dismay of her daughters, never before seeing her so scared in their lives.

“Yeah” “uh-huh” They replied in kind.

“Well, your mother has a special power and can sense, and almost see, what happens in this circle, if you can imagine” Chuckling the last part, the nerves still very present in her voice. “Normally, your siblings always play in this circle, where it’s safe and where I can see them, but, because we live so far from town the woods next to ours can be filled with scary, dangerous creatures. I don’t know why, but, the triplets and Jaune have wandered into that forest and your father needs to find them, before something bad can happen.” looking away through the kitchen window, into the picturesque scene of the serene forest outside.

Meanwhile, Jaune and his elder sisters were playing a renewed game of tag in their new playground, their eldest sister rushing for her father, while the three under her found comfort in their mother, as a new found fear grew for their youngest sibling’s lives. This new version of tag involved a “Strength in Numbers” strategy, where the title of tag didn’t pass on to another player after contact, but spread so that the match only ended when everyone was ‘it’, basically creating two teams of ever-growing chasers and continually dwindling chase-ies.

Jaune, despite taking part and enjoying himself immensely in the game, found himself growing rather nervous, as he could have sworn, he had heard his mother mention not to go into the forest beyond their own at some point before, but none of his sisters could remember and said he just imagined it. Which inevitably led to them teasing him and saying he was a “Scaredy cat!” which, to a seven-year-old boy, was an offence of the highest order. So, with new resolve and determination, Jaune played with his sisters in the forest, running deeper and deeper into the unknown woods, finding a new and magical parts of the surrounding nature with each new game.

Nothing, it seemed, could go wrong for out four young Arcs, however, we all know what follows these kinds of observations.

The fight had started as nothing more than a simple debate. “I SO DID tag you!”

“Nu-uh! You only got my dress!”

“Did not! I tapped your shoulder! You’re it too now!” “Nu-uh” “So, too!”

This repeated for a few minutes, the two eldest of the triplets bickered back and forth until…

“Jaune!” Both shouted in unison, the fire in their eyes and voices startling the poor boy “Y-yeah?” His anxiety growing, as each girl looked ready to throttle one another all the way home.

“I totally got her, right!?” “No, she sooo missed me, you saw right!?”

“Uhhh…” Was his only response. Truth be told, Jaune hadn’t seen the incident in question, he was too busy trying not to get caught himself, he only came up to them when he saw they were fighting again, wanting to help.

“C’mon! I’m fine, right!?” “No, I definitely caught her!”

Jaune was not comfortable in this situation. In fact, he was scared, scared that his sisters were fighting and felt useless that he couldn’t do anything about it. This is until an idea came across his mind.

“What about Rock, Paper, Scisso-!” “AAAGGGHHH!!!” The high, piercing wail that blocked Jaune’s solution had come as a shock to everyone. They were all frozen in place, the fear and pain that filled that scream had turned them all to stone. And a sudden realization donned upon Jaune, one that only seemed to strengthen the anxiety currently lacing his blood.

“W-w-wait, th-there’s only three of u-us here…” Upon a quick count, they found that they were, indeed, one sibling short. “The scream must have come from her! We have to find her, she’s in trouble!”

“Maybe she just found a big spider! She’s terrified of them!” The oldest of the group stated, a fact which was well known within the Arc household.

“We just have to find her and get her away from wherever she found it!” The younger of the girls offered. This conclusion helped each of them relax, as spiders were the most dangerous of the creatures that they knew to inhabit the forests that surround their home. It brought them comfort, but they weren’t in their woodlands anymore.

They moved quickly towards the origin of their sister’s scream, until they unfortunately found her.

In a small secluded area of the forest, a clearing in the trees where the river widened considerably and was surrounded by large stones that easily dwarf the giant that was their father (as far as they were concerned), where the sun seemed to shine atop the water so bright that you could swear it was fragmented like the moon and resided in the river itself. This was where they found her.

However, the beauty of nature wasn’t what made them stop, nor was it the sight of their sister happily frolicking in the water after overcoming her original fear and relief flooding the trio of loving family members. No, it was the exact opposite to all those beautiful and much more preferable sights (Hell, they’d prefer to have found a spider, really).

What stood in the clearing, over their sister, was a monster.

A monster so dark, it made the moonless night sky seem bright. With markings so red, the blood that splattered its maw seemed pale by comparison. All of this packed onto a fur-skinned nightmare product between man and wolf. And their sister… stuck underneath.

No, stuck wasn’t the right word.

The creature didn’t hold her down, it didn’t need too, the girl below it simply couldn’t move. She was missing large chunks of her little body. They could see her shoe on the other side of the clearing, her foot still occupying it. A few feet from her there was some bloody assortment of meat, maybe something from inside, no-one could tell. Her neck had also seemed to disappear and had replaced itself with bloody chunks of something.

Each child, each one that still had a beating heart, remained completely still. No movement, no thought and no emotion, still enough were to make a statue jealous. The shock they felt was all they could feel, their brains refusing to process the sight before them. The first to break free of the paralysing chains holding his mind was Jaune, still looking into the large, half lidded and dull eyes of his older sister. The eyes that had once been so full of colour and everything right with the world, Jaune had found comfort and happiness in those eyes’ countless times before, being the two youngest of the family had created a close and tight bond between the two. And now, they laid in the red, stained grass, upside-down, staring at him with nothing, endless nothing, a perfect void, drained of any and all life.

Fear and sadness welled within Jaune, faster than the tears that had decided to occupy his eyes could, with his sister’s emotions following in turn.

The negativity had come crashing out of them in waves, comparable to a landslide, only cursing them further. This alerted the creature, its posture bolting upright slouching over the corpse of the young girl turned lunch. It turned at the waist, revealing just how long its arms really were, easily twice Jaune himself, each one holding a different end of the girl’s right arm. What was most terrifying was its canine-shaped head. The lupine resemblance almost uncanny, the bloody maul full of teeth as long as it’s claws and wet with a liquid that Jaune tried his best to forget the source of. The ears atop the skull of the creature pointed toward the sky, looked sharp and swivelled around, until stopping, pointed at the children.

What scared them the most were its eyes, the cold, harsh eyes that were the antithesis of its prey. Where the girl’s eyes had been full of life, joy and hope, the creature’s own orbs reflected hate, despair and death. It’s fitting really, that the eyes of love and hope had been filled with the deepest and most alluring of azure blues and the ones that killed them were as red and terrifying as hell itself would be.

The creature dropped its piece of lunch on top of the rest of its forgotten meal and lowered itself onto all fours, its impossibly long arms stretched forwards and its rear in the sky behind it, as a low yet rumbling growl escaped from between its teeth. Now, instead of pure shock rooting our children to the ground, it was the very fear and anxiety that told the beast they were there. And, in the space it took for Jaune let go of the breath his fear forced him to hold, the creature pounced.

In the few precious seconds, it took for Jaune to turn and push his sisters, the nightmare before then had covered the distance between them and stood right behind Jaune. This registered for Jaune as three large, ragged, diagonal cuts in his tiny back. Falling into the grass of the forest, quickly watching the green around him fill with his own red.

The creature ran after the girls, desperately attempting to flee, knowing its second victim had no chance of moving now. The two remaining girls were screaming and running, terrified of the lupine monstrosity behind them, not knowing that the very fear fuelling their escape them was exactly what made them even more delicious prey.

Jaune watched from his position, chin first in the dirt, as the beast caught up to them and doubled their pace, springing forward and turning to face his sisters, seeing the very same claw that had Jaune glued to the ground tear one of them in half, before she could even stop running. Her pieces staining the grass red in front of her remaining sister. The final sibling came to a stop before the stalking nightmare. Sobbing messily, she looked up from her tattered sister into the eyes of the monster that killed some of the best people in her life and seemingly paralysed her only brother. She began to beg, praying to the brother gods that, by some miracle, some stretch of the universe, that she would survive and make it home to her loving mother, sisters and father.

Her prayers and begs fell upon deaf ears as the beast shot forward, grabbed her temples between the daggers that made up its teeth and separated the top half of her head, sounding off with a sickening crunch mixed with a strangled cry of pain and torment.

And just dropped her body to the ground, discarding her like a toddler drops a toy they’re bored with.

Jaune watched the entire scene in front of him, unable to move or even think, terrified beyond all action or comprehensible thought, not that the he would have been able to move anyway, as the creature made its way closer to him, no longer moving in leaps or flashes, but walking, as its prey was rendered immobile by the large injury in its back. Jaune closed his eyes, tightening them as he braced for the pain he knew was coming, just as it had come for his sisters.

Jaune was so focused on biting back anything he felt and so drowned in his own fear and blood, that he didn’t hear the gut-wrenching scream of agony and desperate sorrow. Nor did he hear the heavy foot falls as something approached him and the beast, racing from elsewhere. What he did hear was the sound of his father’s shield deflecting the bloodstained claws, he heard and watched as his father, blinded by pure animosity and heartache forced the creature of death back and, eventually, decapitate it. In that moment, time had seemed to freeze, Jaune saw the fury and heartbreak on his father’s face, twisted into a cruel grimace, the image burned into his memory, alongside the corpses of his sisters.

Time only began to move again as Jaune’s father let out another cry, louder than all his previous screams, as he began to hack, slash and break any part of the Grimm before him, only stopping when its corpse had fully dissipated, as all Grimm do.

Only then did his father stop, drop his weapons and fall to his knees, weeping at the loss of his four youngest children, screaming and sobbing with his face in the dirt, almost seeming to burrow into it, wanting to find the blood of his children. Jaune watched as his father broke apart, small pieces at a time, tears flowing down his face, almost unending. But, as all things must ends, so too did the tears, sniffles and sobs of the town guard, his face steeled into a grimace of loss and sorrow, the piece of himself being replaced with a resolve, a vow to return his children to their home and never let thing happen again.

The Patriarch of the Arc family stood to survey the damage done to his blood. And here he froze, seeing the unsteady rising and falling of his son’s chest, missing pieces being filled properly again as new tears of joy and relief flood the father’s features. Sprinting to the wounded boy’s side, screaming his name and asking question he already knew the answer to, Jaune’s father dropped to his knees once again, but this time to help his damaged son, searching himself and the land around for any way to comfortably bring his son home. With the frantic search proving to be utterly fruitless, he simply, yet gently, picked Jaune from the ground and placed him on his unarmed shoulder.

Jaune’s father began the trek back to the family home, creating false promises, repeating apologies and crying, for the duration of the trip, moving as fast as possible, without causing the silent boy on his shoulder any more pain that what was already silencing him.

Jaune, however, heard none of these promises, “sorry” ‘s or sobs, only seeing the gleaming, blood-spattered shield, collapsed around the sword at his father’s hip, only able to focus on the warmth his father spread and the thought “That would have been useful” while staring at the blade’s handle, before the pain took his consciousness from him.

Jaune spent the next few days drifting to and from the conscious world.

He knew that he had been taken home, he remembered hearing gasps and cries upon his return, pain from the dressing of his wounds and more crying. Curiously enough, he also heard shouting, which would be normal enough in a house of ten... now seven. But this was different, most shouting normally came from his sisters, arguing about one thing or another or when his parents needed to discipline them, these bouts of shouting, however, came from his parents. They seemed to be arguing over something called “aura…?” Jaune wasn’t sure what if was or even if it was a word, but he did hear his mother scream “I CAN’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO ME HAPPEN TO THEM, ESPECIALLY HIM!!” To which his father pleaded. “CAN’T YOU SEE IT ALREADY HAS, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIS LIFE IN DANGER JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL HE SHOULDN’T KNOW ABOUT YOUR PAST OR THR WORLD!!” This is where the screaming stopped, hearing only loud and quiet sobbing and whispering coming from wherever the shouting had. All he really knew was that it scared him.

Jaune also remembered a doctor coming from town once or twice during those days. It was probably more, but he couldn’t stay awake half the time, what with the pain in his back knocking him out every few minutes after he woke.

It wasn’t until a week and a half had passed since the deaths of his family members that Jaune regained consciousness properly. He awoke to the tearstained face of his mother, the tears seeming to have cut long furrows down her face. She almost squealed with joy upon being woken up by her son trying to brush the tears from her face, the pure elation of her son being alive and awake causing more water to leaks from her eyes.

When the rest of Jaune’s remaining family burst into the room, each had similar reactions upon seeing his mother hugging him gently, with him awake this time. Which was then preceded by the inevitable questions, Jaune explaining everything, each detail clear in his mind, when the tears from his own eyes didn’t impede his speech as the emotions finally caught up to him. Often his family sat together for hours at a time, waiting for Jaune to finish crying before he continued.

No harsh accusations followed his tale, nor any blame, simply hugs, tears and promises from his family.

After that day the house flowed back into normalcy, albeit quieter, until three full years had finally passed. The wounds Jaune had received were not lethal nor debilitating, the claws not digging deep enough and missing anything important along his spine, “a small miracle!” The town doctor had claimed.

The town’s people had helped organise and set up, even pay for the funerals. Everyone knew the Arc children and none showed any particular hatred, only the same small loving-malice that followed mischievous children’s pranks and activities. Any and all real hate was directed towards the Grimm that resided in the forest, evident by the furious stares many levelled towards the trees beyond thew village walls.

Eventually, the dull gleam that seemed to cover the eyes of each family member, the same gleam that held the stars and oceans contained within their eyes at bay, disappeared as they could finally move on.

But, never forgetting.

Whenever the children played, they were always supervised, never left alone. Their father had managed a change in occupation and now worked from home as a writer of sorts. Their mother had grown more possessive of her family and Jaune’s elder sisters followed this attitude when it came to him, never letting him be by himself. At first, Jaune was okay with this, even feeling happy and safe from this caged lifestyle due to having seen the reason for its inception.

However, this did not last. Whenever Jaune had asked about the creature, his father only bitterly replied to ask his mother, to which she would say “an evil creature, but, as long as you stay here, you’ll be safe and not have to worry about it”. This never sated Jaune’s mind, but, was the only definition either parent would ever give him. When Jaune would ask to be trained like his father, to protect and kill the “Evil creatures” in the forest, his mother would shoot the idea down in the exact same way, forever denying combat to her remaining children. On this, his parents agreed and Jaune began to lose his feeling of comfort in his protective cage.

Jaune would eventually learn more of his family’s legacy through omitted records of their deeds in the study and from stories his mother told her children and discovers his own drive to become one of the Arc heroes, prompting him to become a Huntsman, despite his great lack of knowledge on the topic (What’s worse is that he doesn’t know just how much he doesn’t know about it).

He finds a way into Beacon and creates some of the best memories he’s ever had, the best friends he’s ever had and even a new family.

And everything happens as we know it will. Friendship. Growth. Happiness. Accomplishment. The Fall. And new beginnings.

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

Hiya again!

thank you for reading my first actual piece of RWBY fanfiction. I made this concept up a few years ago, back when I was (possibly) obsessed with why Jaune knew so little of the world around him, despite a lot of it being vital to being a Huntsmen, So i wrote this little number (I don't know why i made it so dark of a story, but eh).

After rediscovering it, I thought I'd fix it up and post it here and thus, here we are indeed.

I know this doesn't answer how he got into Beacon, but that's not the point of the story in the first place. Please leave any notes of criticism, I'd really love to hear what you though about my story

Anyway, Thank you so very much for reading my work.

#jaune arc rwby #jaune arc #rwby #arc #arc family #hurt #death #gore #saphron cotta arc #saphron arc #comfort #fanfic #fanfiction #dark

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latinasmoak · 3 years

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the sweetest life (and the loving is easy when you’re with me)

tumblr version:

"It all started with an eclair. "

(Modern Polin AU) A mini series on how a couple of delectable desserts have the power to make Penelope Featherington's dreams come true.

rating: mature

tags: tooth rotting fluff, seriously so sweet it’s cavity inducing , it starts off sweet but we will be getting smutty in later chapters!

Chapter One: Mocha Eclairs

It all started with an eclair.

No wait, Penelope was getting ahead of herself.

It all started when she finally moved out of her mother’s home. The day when she realized that she was free from all the backhanded compliments, the nitpicking statements or worse, her mother’s “helpful” advice that wasn’t really helpful at all. Penelope loved her mother, she really did but Penelope would also be the first to admit that they had nothing in common and those differences often led to moments of extreme dislike and disappointment. But that daily torment was the past, now that she was in her own flat, and out of Portia’s critical eye, she was only privy to criticisms when she deemed it necessary to visit her mother, which to no one’s surprise, wasn’t often. And more importantly, living on her own - oh alright, with Eloise Bridgerton as her roommate of course - Penelope was finally free to indulge in one of her favorite secret hobbies. Baking.

When Penelope couldn’t write, she found that redirecting her brain power to learning the techniques and rules of baking, a satisfying distraction. (Self taught and with nothing but online tutorials, plenty of hands on attempts and several spectacular failures, Penelope felt a spark of excitement when, eventually, her creations didn’t turn out as complete disasters) . She still remembers the day her pastry attempt finally didn’t crumble or fall in on itself! When she had taken a bite and sighed with pleasure at how delectable it had turned out to be. To say she felt complete joy and satisfaction was a vast understatement. Her baking steadily improved and now she’s reached the point where sharing her creations with her favorite person was no longer unthinkable.

A flutter of butterflies erupted in her stomach and Penelope took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. Before her very eyes was her own take on a mocha eclair; lightly brown, oblong choux pastry filled with an espresso creme patisserie. It was topped with a dark chocolate mascarpone and simply decorated with chocolate shavings. It looked divine and it smelled heavenly and all the while Penelope’s heart was about ready to burst. She had only one person in mind while she was making these treats, the one person who was constantly in her thoughts.

Colin Bridgerton.

Colin, her best friend’s older brother who was also her friend...sort of. At least she considered him her friend and Penelope dearly wished he felt the same. Well, if she was honest, she would prefer it if he viewed her as more than just a friend, but Penelope had been Eloise’s friend since childhood and because of that she was, unfortunately, like another sister to him.

Penelope shook her head, her loose curls flying about as she attempted to redirect her thoughts from the depressing spiral of her unrequited love. Instead she focused on boxing up her beautiful chocolatey creations. She was after all, expected over at the Bridgertons’ for dinner.

What was unexpected, was the sound of the front door opening and Eloise clamoring her way in. Penelope tilted her head in confusion as she stepped out of her tiny kitchen and followed the sound to see El.

“Why are you here? I thought we were meeting up at your mum’s place?”

Her shouted question was met with silence. No response came from her best friend as she zipped her way to her room, mumbling something utterly incomprehensible.

“According to her, she needed something from her room quite urgently , and no it could not wait, so here we are. At least we can all head to mum’s together.”

A distinctive male voice answered her, startling her enough to make her flinch. Her stomach dropped and her heart began pounding double time, but not just because of the fright, no... even without turning just yet there was no way she could ever mistake his voice. So melodic and captivating as it was, Penelope merely lifted her hand to her heart, willing it to slow down as she turned around to face the man of her dreams.

“C-Colin, you startled me.”

She tried to laugh off her reaction, cursing the fact that his simple presence was enough to make her body go haywire.

A little crease on his forehead appeared as he frowned. “I’m sorry Pen, I didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

He scratched at the back of his head, a small smile making its way onto his face.

“I thought you would have seen me behind El.”

Whatever she was about to say next was interrupted by Colin sniffing the air and casually heading towards the kitchen. “Pen, what is that? It smells really good in here,” his voice got softer the further away from her he got and Penelope quickly chased after him, knowing better than to leave him alone with a box of sweets. Penelope knew the instant he noticed her eclairs. It was hard to describe how excited he was, but his whole being came alive at the sight of food.

“Where did you buy these? Can I try one?”

Instead of answering, Penelope booked it, managing to reach the box before he did. A little miracle as she zoomed past him before standing in front of her treats, using her own body as a barrier to keep the man with a black hole as a stomach away. If she hadn’t been so busy trying to catch her breath, she would have laughed at the astonished look on his face. Colin had clearly not been expecting her to react like that but it wasn’t long before his stunned expression morphed into one of humor, his eyes alight with fondness.

After a few deep breaths Penelope finally had the capacity to answer without wheezing,

“I didn’t buy these. I made them. Yes you may have one, but not now. I was going to bring them to dinner.”

Penelope nervously pushed back her loose curls behind her ear before continuing.

“I know you Colin, if you eat one now, you could be tempted to finish the whole box and that wouldn’t be fair to your brothers and sisters.” she teased.

He didn’t need to know that the reaction she was looking forward to the most was his. In fact, Penelope had gone to great lengths to hide how pathetically in love she was with the third Bridgerton brother. From the moment boys had stopped being icky to her, her heart had belonged to him. It wasn’t just that he was ridiculously handsome and charming. Or that he was constantly smiling and having a good laugh. It was the fact that deep down, he was so... kind . He included her when he didn’t need to and he listened whenever she found the strength to push her shyness aside for actual meaningful conversation. Colin more than any of the other Bridgerton siblings -with perhaps the exception of Eloise- made her feel like she belonged . A feeling that was hard to come by in her own family. To feel it with him was something she so deeply treasured.

What started off as a childhood crush simply grew with every new detail about him she collected through the years. A soft and simple affection that bloomed into a deep, unshakable love. Of course, with every year that passed, her love grew stronger; the heaviness of the unreciprocated feelings began to build up too. The pain settled in her heart, encasing it bit by bit. She learned to tolerate the pain because the alternative, to cast him out completely, was unbearable and impossible. She’d rather have him as a friend, if nothing else. For now that was enough.

“You made them?”

Colin perked up and he leaned in closer, his height giving him the advantage to look over her and peer at the box.

“I didn’t know you could bake! Why didn’t I know? I feel like that is information I would know.”

His furrowed brows and mumbling was so cute Penelope had to squeeze her hands into a tight fist to resist the urge to softly brush away the wrinkles on his forehead with her fingers. And oh how she wanted to lightly cup his face and stand on her tippy toes for a simple kiss on his lips.

She pushed those thoughts aside and instead she laughed, oddly pleased with his reaction, with the knowledge that he cared. Cared enough to be disgruntled that she had secrets.

Pushing at his chest so that he would back up, Penelope looked up and smirked.

“Bold of you to assume you know all my secrets, Bridgerton.”

A huff of shocked laughter escaped him; this was a new side of Penelope, and Colin couldn’t help but be a little awed by the sight of her. There was this new confidence about her, and he liked it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been surprised so many times in such a short amount of time. Since when did she bake well enough that her pastries looked like they were ordered fresh from a bakery? Since when was she fast enough to be on one side of the flat one moment and a second later right in front of him? Since when did she know how to smirk?

Nevermind that she was still adorably flushed, her bright blue eyes brimming with mischief as they met directly with his gaze. He was soon distracted by her deep red curls flying loose around her face. An unnamed feeling spread through him as he looked at her and he shifted his stance, backing away a little and letting her hand drop from his chest.

He was a little dismayed at the sudden urge he felt to get closer and wrap his arms around Penelope’s soft curves. To personally push her curls behind her ears before tilting her head and - stop. Stop. Where did that thought even come from? Trying his best not to think about where his mind was venturing to, Colin instead took Penelope’s full body defense of her treats as a challenge. God knows what was taking Eloise so long, but he would take advantage of this time to charm his way to a snack. The smell in the kitchen was absolutely mouthwatering and he couldn’t imagine Penelope not excelling at whatever she put her mind to, so he was positive in the knowledge that those eclairs would be delicious.

Throwing away any shame, Colin Bridgerton immediately clasped his hands together in a praying motion. He widened his green eyes pleadingly before setting his mouth into a perfectly formed pout.

“Oh come on Pen, please? Just one. I’m hungry.”

Penelope was not impressed, her single brow rising was enough to inform him of this.

“Colin you are always hungry! The sky is blue, water is wet and Colin Bridgerton has a black hole for a stomach.” She uttered dryly.

Colin pressed his hand over his heart dramatically as he gasped.

“Penelope! What a barb!”

Her resulting giggle was music to his ears, but he still had not given up on his endeavor. If regular pouting wasn’t enough, he would have to try something a little more drastic, but he was committed to this now.

Penelope’s mouth dropped open as soon as Colin went down to his knees, once again his hands clasped together, this time with him shaking them back and forth as he whined.

“Pen have mercy on me, your friend, who is so hungry and only wants to try your food. Please Pen. Please.”

Stunned, Penelope takes a few seconds before covering her face with her hands and bursting into laughter.

“Oh my god. Colin! Stand up! You are so bloody ridiculous, I can’t believe you just did that!”

She leaned forward and offered him her hand, still laughing, but she was shocked when he didn’t immediately reach out.

“I’m not getting up until you let me have an eclair, Pen.” He grumbled.

Rolling her eyes she giggled as she agreed to his demands. The fact that she had been able to resist him this long was enough of a victory for her. A few weeks ago the pouty face would have been enough for her to cave.

“Oh alright, yes! I’ll let you have one. Now get up.”

She helped pull him up, not really needing to do much since he was strong and agile enough that he didn’t really need her support. But it meant a lot to her that he still accepted her help, for she would always freely offer it. And if a spark went through her at the mere brush of their hands, and a tingling sensation followed as he gripped her tightly, well she would keep pretending like it was nothing. Even though it was everything.

After ensuring that they’d washed their hands, she pulled out a paper plate for him. Penelope then carefully opened the box and pulled out a single mocha eclair. She watched as his green eyes gleamed with pure want, and for a second she was insanely jealous over the fact that he would never have that expression on his face as he looked at her. She snapped out of it though, getting jealous over a pastry was a new low. Even for her.

Penelope held her breath, her stomach tangled up in knots as she waited for his verdict. Trying her best not to let her eyes linger on his mouth too much, she watched as Colin took his first bite of her mocha eclair. The one she’d made especially for him, with all the love and care she never had the bravery to share aloud. She almost looked away, something about seeing him eat a treat she made with her own hands felt a little too intimate, but his moan of appreciation had her unable to tear her eyes away from his face.

His expression… it was bliss. Green eyes widening before closing as he took in the flavors she incorporated for him, that heady mix of chocolate and coffee.

Penelope could only blush as her heart beat a tad bit faster and a beaming smile made its way onto her face as he took another hearty bite.

“That good, huh?” She said cheekily, feeling confident in the face of him devouring the sweet instead of, say, spitting it out politely.

“Inf oh ‘ood”

His mouth, still stuffed, made his response sound like pure nonsense but the approval was unmistakable. Penelope wrinkled her nose a bit at him attempting to speak with his mouth full but even that lapse in manners was utterly endearing.

Damn him .

She was so caught up in her joy that he liked it that she almost missed him reaching out for another one as soon as he had taken his last bite. Penelope’s eyes widened in alarm and she reached out for her box of eclairs.

“No! Nope! Colin the agreement was one eclair! I did not make this whole box for you! I did, in fact, make them with the intention of sharing with your whole family!”

She stepped out of his reach, protecting the rest of the pastries from his never ending appetite.

“Pen,” Colin whined, his eyes staring longingly at the box.

“You can’t just let me try one of the greatest eclairs I’ve ever had in my life and expect me to only be content with one!”

He reached for the box again, single-minded in his attempt to satiate his craving for another bite. The fact that Penelope had made it still had him in awe. When he had taken his first bite, the urge to groan had been practically overwhelming. It was like ambrosia, an explosion of flavor, the bitterness of the coffee followed by the sweetness of the chocolate and creme. He was distraught when he had opened his eyes to realize that he had devoured his whole eclair. He needed more.

Penelope turned her back on him, cradling the box and using her own body as a shield, shaking her head back and forth all the while. Another huff of laughter escaped him, she was so cute, protecting the sweets for his family. A noble endeavor indeed but he was much taller and the wall she made was nothing compared to his height. He stepped forward, his chest to her back, his arms wrapping around hers, Penelope stiffened in his pseudo embrace but Colin didn't notice as he finally had the box in his hands. Just in time too, as Penelope let go and twisted her way out of his arms.

“That’s not fair! Using the fact that you’re a giant against me is rude.”

Penelope was amazed that her voice wasn't shaking considering her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest. What was that? She had been so close to melting into his embrace, the urge to lean back against his chest and breathe in his scent had been so strong. How dare he do this? Didn’t he know she was only so strong? The fact that she could still feel him around her was enough to drive her insane.

“It’s not my fault you are so tiny, Pen.”

Colin grinned as looked down at the box, lifting the cover and mentally counting how many were left, “Come on Pen, there’s enough -” his sentence was cut short when Penelope grabbed the box from his hands unexpectedly and bolted to the other side of the counter, leaving him standing there in utter shock.

“Again? When did you get so fast? I swear I only blinked!” Twice now she had exhibited an alarming sense of speed.

“You guys are cute.”

Both Colin and Penelope are startled when a husky voice enters the conversation. They had completely forgotten about Eloise being in the flat with them. Caught up in the impromptu tug of war over the eclairs. They looked over at Eloise’s grinning face. Neither one of them sure they liked the twinkling light in her expressive brown eyes.

“I was here for a solid ten minutes enjoying the show, but mum’s waiting for us so let's get a move on.”

Eloise then grabbed the box from Penelope’s hands and headed towards the door.

“Let's make haste people!”

It didn’t take long after that dinner for Colin Bridgerton to become a frequent guest in Penelope’s kitchen. What started off as simple requests for his favorite treats quickly became an insistence on her part that he was to be her sous chef and help her clean up. Not that it was ever a chore, but if she was to dedicate so much of her time to feeding him, it couldn't be for free. His time was more than enough of a payment for her and every dessert she made was a labor of love. It was liberating in a way, to channel all her feelings into the dough and creams and treats. She was no longer bottling it all up, no longer letting it stew and fester and morph into agony.

And it was indescribable, the joy she felt to see Colin enjoy her food so earnestly. To see his hearty appetite satisfied by her own creations. Penelope felt like she was high in the clouds, he was always texting her new recipes they could make together or locations of different bakeries they could try. She never expected any of this, the fact that their friendship would grow into something deeper. Of course she still yearned for them to be more, and she constantly had to remind herself to not make a big deal out of normal platonic affectionate gestures. She was content for now, to have him at her side.

It all started with an eclair…

But it all escalated with a strawberry crème brûlée.

|| CHAPTER TWO || || AO3 ||

#Polin Fics #Polin #Penelope Featherington #Colin Bridgerton #Colin x Penelope #Bridgerton Fics #Bridgerton #fic: the sweetest life #yes I know I have this on AO3 but I also always planned to have a tumblr version #i'll be reposting chapters two and three soon as well #I love my babies sooooo much <3 #ale's fics

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virgojeons · 4 years

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true love (jjk)

summary: you and jungkook spend your first christmas together.

alternatively, a merry love story based on the lyrics of true love by ariana grande.

genre: fluff, humor, college au, established relationship, holiday series, jeon jungkook x reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing, implied sexual content, excessive use of pet names

wattpad version here, ao3 version here

a/n: well, here i am!! pls be gentle with me, this is the first time ive ever posted my writing on here and ive been debating it for months lmao. i truly truly hope u enjoy!!

on the first day of christmas when you gave me all them kisses, boy you showed me things, come hold me please and never let me go.

"Five days until Christmas and you're still decorating the tree?"

You yelped at the sudden sound of your boyfriend's voice, dropping your over-accessorized ornament and watching helplessly as it shattered against the floor.

Immediately, you whined. "Jungkook!"

Jungkook suppressed a grin at the furrow of your eyebrows and the pout of your lips, kicking his shoes off and tossing his coat onto the couch. He didn't mean to scare you, really. You even knew he was coming over. It's just that you left the front door unlocked (as you always did when he was on his way, despite him constantly scolding you for it) and there was no way you would've heard him come in over the sound of Jingle Bell Rock blaring through the house.

"Sorry, baby," He chuckled, bending down beside you to help pick up the remnants of your best ornament. "I didn't mean to scare you."

You glared at him in between collecting the shards of glass in your hand. "I spent hours making that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Hot glue gun burns, sparkles stuck on my face and everything."

Jungkook took the pieces of glass from you with an amused look on his face, standing from his kneeling position to toss them in the trash can you had earlier moved to the living room for easy access. "I'm sorry. I'll make you another one."

"It's not the same." You sulked, finding fun in being stubborn and giving him a hard time. It was getting increasingly difficult though, with his rosy nose and ears and that little gleam in his eyes.

It was then that he made his first move of the night, tugging you by your oversized Rudolph sweater so quickly that you had to latch onto his shoulders for leverage with a squeal. His grin only seemed to grow once you were officially in his space, taking notice of your lack of pants and the snowflake stockings that appeared to be in their place instead.

"You don't look too sorry," You chuckled, heart stuttering at the way he was gazing down at you in such close proximity.

Jungkook shrugged, nudging his nose with yours. "I'm just happy."

They were such simple words, but it was the way he said them, the way he looked at you when he said them. You couldn’t lie, the excitement of spending your first Christmas together, completely alone, was incredibly infectious. It was gross and it was corny and everything else you swore you would never be, but you were in love with Jungkook. Devastatingly so. You from nine months ago probably wouldn’t even recognize the present you; a fact that friends, family, and even Jungkook alike loved to tease you about. Cracking the so-called ice queen was a feat to be celebrated, apparently. Whatever. He was yours and you were his so you didn’t quite care about the technicalities of it. Even if the story went a bit differently, in your opinion.

The brutal snow and temperatures of February were beginning to fade into spring when you met Jungkook.

You and Jimin had been attempting to finish your economics homework together in your favorite coffee shop; a hidden treasure that was a ten minute walk from campus and ticked all your aesthetic boxes. You two were sipping from your respective hot drinks, neglecting your heaps of bookwork in favor of discussing the new season of Stranger Things. Jimin was deep into his theory of Hopper still being alive when his eyes flickered to the door at the sound of the bell, widening slightly in recognition before a bright smile took over his face.

"Jungkook!" Jimin called, waving whoever it was over.

You followed his gaze and turned your head in the direction of the entrance, growing curious when the boy walking towards your table wasn't familiar to you. It took you less than five seconds to realize that the boy in question was attractive.

Like, extremely attractive. The kind of attractive that should not be subjected to the way you look right now.

It took you even less time to whip your head back around, glaring at Jimin with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

He met your glare with a confused scrunch of his eyebrows before it slowly transformed into a smirk, quickly catching on to what your pointed look was for. The night before had been a late one. You, like any other normal millennial, had impulse bought a pretty yellow Nintendo Switch solely for the new Animal Crossing game. As soon as it arrived on your doorstep you were retreating into your room, tearing the package open with squeals of excitement.

Maybe you completely lost track of time and played until your eyes were bloodshot and you heard birds chirping outside. Maybe you got an astounding two hours of sleep. And maybe you had fallen asleep without setting an alarm and woke up thirty minutes later than usual.

The details were insignificant though, because you were throwing on a pair of leggings and the first sweatshirt you saw, brushing your hair and your teeth, and hastily sprinting to your car all in record time.

No sleep. No makeup. No breakfast. And worst of all, no coffee.

And so, it was blatantly clear you had no desire to let a boy that beautiful even glance at you in that state, let alone introduce himself. But it didn't look like you had a choice in the matter, because moments later he was towering over your table with a stupidly handsome smile.

Jungkook grinned, reaching out to do that Weird Bro Handshake with Jimin. "Hey, Chim."

You were already plotting various methods of painful revenge in your head.

"Hey, Kook. What are you doing here?"

"I kind of work here," He chuckled. "Well, as of like, yesterday. Today's my first day."

"Oh, so this is the new job you were telling me about," Jimin nodded in realization, then his eyes flickered mischievously to yours. You’re rapidly shaking your head. "You know, this is my friend ___'s favorite coffee spot."

A scowl immediately takes over your face, only to be wiped off and replaced by a sickeningly sweet smile when Jungkook turns his head to look your way. The instant your eyes meet his you quite literally want to melt into the floor.

Jungkook smiles at you. Like, really smiles. "Hey, that's cool. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other then, right?"

Across the table, Jimin snorts, which only adds to the way your cheeks are absolutely flaming. You send a harsh kick to Jimin's leg as inconspicuously as you can, all while batting your eyelashes at Jungkook.

"Uh, yeah! We probably... will."

Jungkook looks positively amused, but if he notices Jimin rushing to clutch his leg, he doesn't say anything.

"Sweet," He grins again. There's a brief few seconds where you two are just gazing at each other, stupid and shy, until Jimin loudly clears his throat. "Right, well, I should probably go clock in. Let's chill sometime this week, Chim."

"Sure thing." Jimin sings, smugness plastered all over his face.

Jungkook waves, already backing away from the table with his eyes on you. "Nice meeting you."

You feel yourself flush again and you absolutely hate it. "Nice meeting you too."

With a final smile, Jungkook disappears behind the employee doors. The moment he leaves your eyes are screwed shut and you're slamming your head against the table. The silence speaks for itself. You don't even need to see Jimin's face to know that he's either smirking or stifling his laughter.

"Don't." You warn.

"You just blushed," He says anyway. "Like, four times."

"I most definitely did not blush."

"You did. You still are."

"I'm embarrassed!" You wail. "That's literally the only reason why. I look like I got ran over and dragged for three blocks."

"Jungkook sure doesn't seem to think so," Jimin hums, snickering as he sips his coffee.

"Stop."

"He likes you." He insists.

"He was just being polite." You defend.

"That is literally my childhood best friend. I think I would know."

This makes you pause. Then you sigh. "He doesn't even know me."

He doesn’t disagree. But then again, "Not yet."

"Stop trying to play matchmaker, Jimin. He said five words to me," You spoke firmly, exasperated as you downed the final sip of your latte. "Plus, I'm just focusing on me and my degree right now. No distractions."

Jimin knew that you were already worn out, and even though he was mostly joking around, he wouldn’t want to push you any further. He’d drop it.

"Fine. We'll see who's right in the end, though."

For now.

"I will dump that hot coffee over your head."

As it turns out, Jimin was kind of right.

It takes a grand total of four visits to your favorite coffee shop before Jungkook asks you out. The first time you were by yourself, nose buried in a book as Jungkook was clocking in. He wasn't able to speak to you until about an hour later, when the morning rush had passed and you had finally lifted your head from whatever was in that book.

You were honestly dreading facing him again, but you were prepared and actually presentable this time. Also you were kind of starving. And so, you hesitantly approached the counter. Jungkook took your order, both of you all fidgeting hands and sheepish smiles. You mentally patted yourself on the back when you spoke without any real mess-ups, and prayed that the cool girl aura you always tried so desperately to maintain was being transmitted.

Not like you were trying to leave a lasting impression, or anything.

He hand delivered you your coffee and muffin with a beaming grin, all while his new boss glared at him from behind the counter. He didn't have to know that you knew cashiers weren't supposed to serve the food.

The second visit was a few days after. You were with Jimin again, shooting down every jab he made about you only wearing a pretty dress because you knew you would be coming here. Jungkook joined you both during his break. As soon as he untied his apron and sat himself directly across from you, it struck. You knew you were screwed. You just couldn't stop staring at him. The chin in the palm of your hands and sparkles in your eyes type of staring. You would be much more ashamed if you couldn’t see the way he was staring right back. Jimin found this hilarious, of course, and would subtly find ways to connect you two in conversation. You weren't sure if you loved or hated him for it.

It was that visit that Jungkook insisted on sharing his slice of strawberry cake with you, claiming he wasn't that hungry. The both of you were embarrassed, whacking his arm and dismissing him as Jimin complained about being the third wheel. By the end of his break, Jungkook was positively smitten, you were begrudgingly infatuated, and Jimin was awfully smug. He reluctantly said bye to you both, and you were slouching forward with your head in your hands the moment he disappeared from visibility.

Jimin looked extremely pleased. "Believe me now?"

"Focusing on school," You protested. It was a weak one, but. Well.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" He mused.

And suddenly, you were frantic. Panicking. This was definitely not a part of the plan.

Quickly packing up your things, you groaned loudly. "You. Maybe me. Or both. I can't think in this place anymore."

"You'll be all over each other by next week."

"Shh!" You were childishly covering your ears and speed-walking out of the café.

Try as you might, you couldn't help yourself and returned the very next day after all your classes had finished. Jungkook was already there when you walked in, taking a customer's order but doing a double take and flashing you a smile when you appeared in his line of sight. This visit consisted of nothing but pretending.

Pretending to be studying. Pretending you weren't listening to him take orders just to hear his voice. Pretending you weren't sneaking glances at him. Pretending that the way your eyes kept meeting wasn't making your skin prickle. And you were just fine pretending, until suddenly he was in the seat across from with you his apron off and a steaming hot chocolate in hand. You tried your hardest to remain indifferent, you really did. But then he was pushing the beverage towards you with gentle eyes and his smile hopeful, telling you it was his treat because he noticed how hard you were studying. And then you were melting right along with the marshmallows in that mug.

The two of you talked about your majors, your families, your favorite shows, even Jimin. You asked about his tattoos and he explained them with ease. You also may have pulled out one of the oldest tricks in the book at the sight of his knuckle tattoos, gasping in feigned wonder when you pulled his hand against yours to measure the size difference.

His hand could swallow yours whole and still have some leftover, you discovered. It was a very rewarding experiment.

You made each other laugh and blush down to the very last second of his break. Scarily enough, being in each other's presence was so annoyingly addictive that you found yourself hesitant to watch him leave. You could tell Jungkook felt the same by the way he dragged out his goodbyes. I work again on Thursday, maybe I'll see you then? Your fingers brushed as he softly took the mug from you. It was really fun talking to you. You were biting your lip to keep from smiling embarrassingly big. You look really pretty today, by the way. And then he was off.

You made a strangled noise the second you were outside with your fingers frantically beginning to type a message to Jimin.

promise not to say i told you so :///

Jungkook asked you out on your fourth visit. As soon as you approached the counter, he just blurted it out. As if it was something he couldn't hold on his tongue any longer. You couldn't hear yourself say yes over your brain malfunctioning and the powerful thumping of your heart, but you knew you did. His heartbreakingly gorgeous grin told you so.

On his break, Jungkook brought you a latte with a heart carved in the cream. You just couldn't conceal the coo that escaped you, which quickly resulted in his cheeks reddening.

Cute, you thought.

He quizzed you on your personality and the type of activities you liked to do, admitting that he would use the information to conjure up the best date you would ever go on. Six days later, Jungkook stayed true to his word. Not only was it the best date you had ever been on, but you were completely certain it would ruin any other dates for you moving forward, unless they were with him. Much to your annoyance and also utter delight, you were so sure of Jeon Jungkook and your brief but striking time together that you kissed him. Right on the swings of your favorite childhood playground, first date rules tossed aside.

He was so caught off guard that his eyes expanded to twice their normal size and your teeth banged together. You drew back, slightly mortified and ready to jump to your death from the tallest slide on the playground, but Jungkook was huffing a laugh onto your lips and grabbing your face like it was nothing. Then you two got it just right, and something clicked. The earth fell off its axis and you were rendered breathless and all that nauseating cliché shit you chastised as a myth. And from that day forward, you two were completely, tooth-rottingly, inseparable.

"Easy," Jungkook proclaimed, pecking your lips. "We finished the tree."

He set you back on the floor gently, releasing a dramatic breath of air as if lifting you to place the star on top of the tree had actually winded him. As if he wasn't a muscle pig. You rolled your eyes and told him as much.

"Don't be a baby, muscle pig," You shoved at his bicep, only proving your point further when he didn't move an inch. ‘And I finished the tree.”

Instead, he caught the hand that you nudged him with and pulled your back to his chest, caging you between his arms. "Muscle pig, huh? That's what you think of me, baby?"

You flushed at the teasing lilt in his voice, suddenly very eager to escape his hold. But try as you might, he just wouldn't budge. A loud laugh left your throat as you flailed in his grasp, his muscled arms bulging in the turtleneck you bought him for his birthday a few months ago. Suddenly, you decided that you would be returning it for your own personal peace.

A high pitched whine left your mouth, one that lost all its seriousness once it was drowned out by your giggles. "Jungkook, let go of me!"

You would just not stop wiggling, and Jungkook could not stop laughing. He could live the rest of his life like this, his brain pauses to think. He's so happy.

And when you're thrashing so violently that your heel kicks his pocket with a force that has an object clattering onto the floor, Jungkook has never reacted faster in his life. Instantly your imprisonment is gone, and Jungkook is on your floor in a flash. Your eyebrows draw together at the sight of him scrambling for whatever it is, and all you're able to see is a sleek black case before he's quickly stuffing it back in his pocket.

You're eyeing him when he rises back on his feet. "Feel like sharing?"

Jungkook whistles noncommittally. "Not particularly, no."

There's a drawn-out beat of silence where you're just gazing at each other, neither one of you backing down. And then you're crossing your arms, and he's looking at your nose and your forehead and anywhere but your eyes, and then you're arching an eyebrow. He looks at you and breaks. Defeat.

"It's your present," He lets out a heavy sigh. "Well, the main one anyway."

You positively squeal. "Ooh! Can I see? Please?"

"Baby, it's the 20th."

"Can I have a hint?"

Jungkook blinks. "No, you cannot have a hint."

You're instantly pouting, but Jungkook expects that, because he knows you better than anyone else. Which is why he knows that you're a little spoiled, with a bit of a bratty streak, with just a dash of calculated charm that you use to your advantage to get just about anything you want. He's never seen it as a bad thing. In fact, he finds it cute. A little hot, too, if he's being truthful.

Anyway, he came prepared. Just as you're opening your mouth to no doubt make him spill the surprise, he's hushing you with a bruising kiss to your lips. The kind of kiss that makes you go pliant against him, the kind that makes you make a little noise in the back of your throat. The kind you've been waiting for all night.

It’s the trick that never truly runs its course.

And Jungkook is melting, too. Melting, turning to mush at your very feet, until you're moving backwards and clutching at his shoulders, ready to push him onto the couch.

"Mmm," He's humming against you, before he reluctantly draws back. He lets you chase his lips once, twice, before he chuckles lowly. "Hold on, angel."

You're suddenly feeling warm all over after his kisses, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into him into the couch and feel him next to you. Or maybe above you. With that chain you always tugged on dangling in your face. You really weren't picky.

You watched Jungkook break away from you and rummage through his bag with a frown and a newfound heat at the pit of your belly. "It can't wait?"

Like he said, he knows you, which means he knew kisses alone wouldn’t be able to satiate you nor get you to stop asking questions for the entire week. No matter how mind-numbing they may be.

"One second," He promised, and you definitely counted at least five, but he quickly found what he was looking for all the same. "I brought a surprise. Well, two surprises."

He was holding both of his hands behind his back with this stupid grin on his face. You squinted for a few seconds, suspicious, before breathing out a laugh. "Are you ever gonna show me?"

Jungkook looked way too happy with himself.

"The most important surprise is mistletoe, obviously. Gonna have to find a way to glue it on to the ceiling above your bed." And there was that mischievous little smile that told you he had every intention of carrying that out.

You folded your arms over your body and scoffed. Even if you were trying and failing to keep your lips from quirking up and possibly, maybe finding it a little harder to breathe all of a sudden. "You're unbelievable, Jeon."

He just winked and held up his other hand, pulling a gasp from your lips the second you realized what it was.

"The Polar Express!"

"I had to check like, four different stores in the mall to find it. That's why I got here a little late, by the way. But I thought we could make some hot chocolate like in the movie and watch it together and," Jungkook pauses to think, licking his lips. "There's a 'ride my train' joke in here somewhere but I don't know how to say it."

He's snorting at his own delivery before you are, and once your giggles permeate the air he's invading your space again with a lovesick smile.

"You are the sweetest boy," You praise, holding his pretty face with both hands and peppering small kisses all over it the way he secretly likes. "But you make me sick to my stomach sometimes."

If anything, this makes him smile even wider. "I love you too, baby."

You and Jungkook are in complete darkness besides the light coming from the TV in your room playing Polar Express. His head is on your shoulder with his arm strewn across your waist, and his entire leg slotted between yours. He's soft. He smells like the lavender body soap you keep in your shower. His gentle breaths hit your neck every time he exhales and you're now cliché enough to believe that the heart underneath you beats in tandem with yours.

Both of your stomachs are filled from the takeout he ordered for dinner and the peppermint hot chocolate you made while he was in the shower. You're still mentally replaying the moment he stepped back in your room, towel wrapped around his waist with droplets of water cascading down his body. His prominent abs and tattoos and wet hair had you scrambling to sit up, clearing your throat as you tasked yourself with handing him his mug. If he noticed you ogling him, he surely didn’t react to it.

Made us some cocoa, you said.

He brought the beverage to his nose and sniffed once, twice, before his entire face bunched up. Peppermint is nasty. Then he was gulping it down.

I thought it was nasty, you laughed in disbelief.

Nothing you make me can be nasty. Thank you, baby.

And now you’re thoroughly warm from the tips of your fingertips down to your toes, and you figure it has less to do with the cocoa and more with the way Jungkook so obviously loves you. The way you love him.

Feeling a tugging at your shirt, you look down to see him peering up at you with a dazed twinkle in his eye. "You're not hot in this?"

You purse your lips and pause, knowing what was coming. "No. Are you?"

He has the decency to look a little clueless. He was always doing that, in a playfully childish way you grew to love.

"Actually, yeah I am," Jungkook furrows his brows, like it was something he was just now realizing. And then he's sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head, and you're instantly staring at his back and remembering the way it feels to rake your fingers up and down it, and he's turning back to you with a lazy smirk. "You don't wanna take yours off, angel?"

You swallow. "I'm okay."

Jungkook starts to laugh, that cocky laugh that is equal parts douchebag-ish and sexy. He's most definitely turning you on and he most definitely knows this, which is why you're glaring at him until he reaches over you and picks up the mistletoe from your bedside desk. He dangles it over your heads, makes sure to wriggle his eyebrows suggestively when he does it, and you want to laugh, you really do. You would probably roll your eyes and call him a nerd too while you were at it, if it weren't for the way he was changing his position and starting to lean over you. Crowding your space in your favorite way.

Jungkook hears your breathing pick up once you're directly under him, watches the way your lips part and your eyes change for him, and decides to go for the kill.

Nothing about the kiss was soft or gentle. Jungkook clearly had a point to prove and knew how he wanted to do it. The dangling mistletoe was soon forgotten in favor of holding your face by your chin, landing with a chime on your wooden floors. He worked your mouth open in that sloppy, messy, dirty way he only exhibited when he was feeling particularly desperate. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and you were trembling underneath him, clutching at the warm skin of his back. It was nasty, absolutely obscene the way his tongue was in your mouth like his life depended on it. And you loved it. You couldn't stop making these little sounds, and Jungkook was groaning into your mouth right along with you. You were seconds away from pleading for him to do anything he wanted, to make you his, when he's abruptly pulling from you with a wet pop and a string of saliva between you.

Your ragged breaths fill the air, both of your chests heaving as you take a second to attempt to drag yourself out of the haze he's built around you two.

The asshole has the audacity to laugh. "Hot yet?"

"You don't have to bring out the mistletoe to kiss me, you know." You eventually say instead.

"I know," He pants, still smiling like the all-consuming beauty he is. "But you love Christmas. And it's our first. Wanna do it right."

You feel the need to close your eyes, let his words sink in, and so you do. You let the statement blanket over you until you're positively beaming, and when you open your eyes, he is the same. You are so irreversibly in love and you think he might be perfect. You tell him as much.

"You're perfect," You say, all soft and starry eyed. You're nodding when he starts shaking his head, and when the tips of his ears begin to turn red and he's putting his head down, you're giggling and putting both hands on either side of his head to get his eyes back on yours. "I love you a lot."

Jungkook is so happy. "Love you most."

And then he's leaning down again. This kiss is much less frantic, more steady, but still passionate and still with Jungkook, which means it fills your body with heat all the same. Your head is floating and you're squirming under his hold again when you break apart for air.

There's no point in trying to resist him anymore. You never can.

"I'm gonna take my sweater off now."

Jungkook scrunches his nose, and grins. "Okay."

read part two here!

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #fluff #humor #jungkook fanfiction #jeongguk #kpop #kpop fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook series #jeongguk x reader

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Heyo, fellow Inuyasha fans! Happy Friday! This particular blog will serve as a collection of random thoughts I’ve been mulling over lately. Hope you’ll consider giving it a read. By the way, it’ll specifically pertain to the Sessrin ship. If that’s not something that is of interest to you, then no need to read any further. Whatever happens, I wanted to get this out before the sequel. Alrighty, let’s go!

I’m not sure many of us realize just how much fiction sparks public dialogue and shapes culture. There have been countless studies and research done to prove it, therefore this really isn’t up for debate. What the real question here should be is have we taken the time to fully contemplate and assess just how much fictional experiences are able to change or influence our perspective on real, everyday life? The visual arts are just one of many evolutionary adaptations that serve to give us more insight into one another’s mind. If our outlook on fiction contrasts with said insight, then perhaps some re-evaluating is in order.

Powerful works of literature such as 1984 and the beloved Harry Potter series are just two examples. George Orwell’s book contributed strongly to how readers viewed government and politics during that time, and to this day it’s a book that resonates with many. As much as Harry Potter is cherished all across the world, there are religious and academic institutions that condemn it or have even gone so far as to ban it. I may not agree with the extreme measures taken, but it’s fascinating nonetheless to witness the extent to which fiction can move and mobilize people for a cause.

The takeaway is that indicating fiction doesn’t have the power to create change in our everyday lives is misleading to say the least. So how exactly then can fictional stories that are, after all, completely made up affect society in such profound ways? It all lies in the power of the psychology of fiction. According to cognitive psychologist and novelist, Keith Oatley, who’s been researching the psychological effects of fiction for over a decade, he states that engaging with stories about other people can improve empathy and theory of mind. When we identify with these characters’ struggles, we begin to share their frustration for societal problems that plague them. These types of stories tap into our emotions more so than- believe it or not- nonfiction, and thus their effects inspire us and even have the ability to alter our worldviews.

I’ll be returning to that specific topic a bit later, but moving on for now!

It’s safe to say that I speak on behalf of the majority of antis. That being said, I first want to add that we are aware that sessrin shippers claim to agree that there was nothing inherently romantic that took place between Rin and Sesshomaru during their travels together. The thing is we have trouble believing you guys when you time and time again provide contradictory statements to defend your stance.

Voicing things like, “all signs point to Rin” and “it’s been foreshadowed” sends the exact opposite message of what you supposedly stand for and, if anything, confirms that you’ve had romance on your mind long before it would’ve been acceptable to come out with openly. You can’t just go along with what we say when it’s convenient to your argument and then back it up later with “who else but Rin.” How can the relationship you’re imagining be so obvious if they didn’t hint at it for the whole duration of the original series like we agreed upon? Elaborate on how we could’ve possibly come to such wildly different conclusions when we started AND left off with the same views for and throughout the series.

On top of that, making the excuse that we don’t speak for adult!Rin and that she has the right to make her own decisions once she’s old enough is a weak defense. Firstly, because we haven’t even met her. Secondly, because it’s unfair of you to assert that you know what’s best for Rin and then say we’re not allowed to just because it doesn’t align with your beliefs. I get that you feel protective over her character, but do recall that this adult version of her none of us have actually met yet. We have no idea what kind of woman she’s become, what her dreams or aspirations may be, and whether she’s married or even wants to be. I’m not against the idea of her falling in love, I just don’t think it’ll be with Sesshomaru. I guess I’m also a fan of the idea of her following in Kaede’s footsteps, because if anyone can grow up to be an independent, trusted, and wise leader of the community like her it’s Rin.

To make matters worse, way too many of you continue to celebrate the drama cd and profess that it was sweet that Sesshomaru basically promised he’d wait for Rin all while somehow ignoring the glaring grooming implications. Why do you only see what you want to see and fail to acknowledge that actual child grooming scenarios do in fact play out like this in real life? A high percentage of people who have been victims of grooming can attest to this. If Sessrin does go canon, all the sequel succeeded in doing to avoid the direct correlation with grooming was skip over the more questionable and dodgy portions of it. Take out the time jump, however, and you no longer have a loophole to cover up the scary unmistakable truth, which is that Sessrin and grooming are essentially one in the same.

No one case is identical to another so please don’t come to me with your “but how is it grooming if Sesshomaru didn’t manipulate Rin” refutes. Nobody knows what the hell went on during those years between The Final Act and this upcoming sequel. Based on everything exhibited so far- that is if we decide to recognize the drama cd like so many of you choose to do- Sessrin’s dynamic is eerily reminiscent of real life child grooming. Why else do you think a lot of us fans have a huge problem with it? It’s triggering for a reason.

Let’s be honest, Sesshomaru’s supposed love confession could’ve just been the first of many gestures like it. Who really knows, right? According to you shippers, a major shift in their relationship took place sometime during this critical period none of us got to watch unfold. I’m sure you all have explored the various ways this would’ve gone down in fan fiction and through other creative means of expression. Not to spoil the fun, but all I can’t help but wonder about is just how many of those supposed “cute moments” would’ve been as creepy and cringey as that proposal. Hundreds of thousands (possibly millions?!) of fans would undoubtedly agree with me, too. It seems to me this ain’t due to a mere difference of opinion. Taste is one thing, ethics a whole other.

By the way, in case you didn’t know, groomers don’t necessarily need to plan out every single move in order for their behavior to constitute as grooming. What we should be paying attention to instead is the fact that Sesshomaru made a conscious decision to act on his own selfish desire for a young girl who couldn’t have possibly known in that moment the magnitude of what he was asking of her. Why is it that a vulnerable Rin is put in a position that forces her to be the one responsible for making such a big, life-changing decision for the both of them? Yes, Sesshomaru gave her the choice and, yes, she doesn’t have to make it till later, but why on Earth is he coming to her with this well before a child her age is ready and mature enough to handle it? Even if his intentions are good (broadly speaking of course), his what you shippers probably call “innocent acts” are incidentally coercing Rin into reciprocating his feelings. Whether he planned for that or not, he’s at fault. Period.

That’s one way the power imbalance works. A child wants nothing more than to please the adult they look up to and adore, because they’re impressionable like that. Maybe Rin processes this like she’ll want whatever he wants, so that’s what she trains herself to believe- either right then and there or over time. Plus, if you really think about it, why wouldn’t she trust him if in her eyes he’s been nothing but good to her and that’s all she’s ever really known? (Psst! Charm is integral to the manipulative nature of grooming so it’s deceiving AKA manipulation can come off as praise or flattery.) Bottom line is that Rin is too young to have to think about this kind of deep stuff at all, and Sesshomaru shouldn’t have taken advantage of the power he had/has over her to influence a decision she was by no means prepared to hear about much less decide on. Your headcanons seem to imply that she’ll eventually have to choose though, and Idk about you but I rather not push my own fantasy agenda onto a underage girl regardless of how much I want it. Idc if she’s fictional, it wouldn’t feel right so why would I want to see that? My principals couldn’t ever allow for it.

Even if it wasn’t an official proposal, per se, it’s still disturbing to me that so many of you find joy in the thought of a grown adult male essentially waiting for a young girl HE KNEW to become old enough before pursuing her. I know this drama cd ain’t technically canon, y'all, but since this is literally the only source we have that may foreshadow a potential Sessrin to come, and it’s referenced a lot, I figured it still should be called out for exactly what it is- Grooming: 101!!!!

Just as I demonstrated above, fiction has the ability to make even the most inappropriate and uncomfortable situations be viewed in a favorable light when you put the right spin on it. *cough* Lolicon culture, need I say more? *cough* Despite what you may believe, the strategies fiction utilizes to explain themes/concepts can genuinely lead to how we perceive them, and ultimately to how we come to make sense of a similar event presented to us in real life. Especially if we have no prior experience with any of it and have nothing to compare something to, these perceptions can be dangerous yet still persuasive to certain fans- young ones in particular. The more narrative consistency across stories and different mediums, the more likely they’ll influence social beliefs. Minors don’t possess the same capacity as adults to think critically about the content they consume, and if we aren’t more careful about what we put out there then all of us will continue to face serious repercussions.

This is precisely why it’s crucial we persist in our fight against the rabid phenomenon of glorifying young girls in every sexual context imaginable. Just look at what something as seemingly harmless as fiction has the power to do. The scope of fiction is broad and far-reaching, and it’s about time we stop denying that fact and actually do something about it if we have the means to.

The truth of the matter is that we’re in desperate need of proper education and training programs on this issue in our communities. Families need to ensure their children have access to the necessary resources, but it isn’t just on them. ALL of us gotta do our part and ALL of us should be up for the task. It takes a village, right? If we do not properly discuss and address child sexual abuse (CSA) with our children and in public forums, including the internet, then we’re ultimately accepting incidents of CSA should they arise. Consequently, that also translates to indirectly accepting that the predators among us stay untreated and/or unpunished. That’s how the generational and societal aspect of the abuse can continue, and we must do everything in our power to secure our children’s future. Yes, even when it comes to fiction.

If you still somehow don’t think the Sessrin pairing has anything to do with grooming, allow me to break this down for you one more time:

1. If some of your fellow sessrin shippers say that a relationship like this in real life is harmful, then that should be pretty telling in and of itself.

2. Piggybacking off #1: if your only defense to that is “well it’s just fiction,” then you should ask yourself why you can’t ever come up with better reasons. Same goes for history and culture, so please stop using those to justify this relationship. None of the above can or should be applied since it’s already been established that fiction pervades our lives and vice versa.

3. If fellow shippers who are victims of grooming say they are drawn to Sessrin because it allows them in a way to “take back control” from their abuser so that they can better cope with past traumas, then they’re inadvertently admitting that Sessrin does possess qualities associated with the past child sexual abuse they underwent. AKA Sessrin is relatable for its abusive dynamic.

I have to ask by the way, but why do you get so offended when we don’t support your ship anyway? Is it because we interpret it to be controversial and you don’t like your ship getting a bad rap? Is it because it would be insulting to admit that antis actually have a point in it being problematic and you rather double down instead? Or is it because you’re projecting yourself onto Rin and prefer to not go into detail about why that is? Maybe it’s too personal, or maybe it’s because deep down you’re ashamed. Of course that doesn’t mean you’re bad people, but suppressing these kind of negative emotions can’t be healthy for anyone. A little awareness and self-reflection on your part can benefit not just you but all of us in the long run. Cognitive dissonance can suck, but it’s also part of being human.

I recently came across a comment I’d like to share with you. Unfortunately, this is not the first time nor will it be the last I see the likes of it. Anyway, in it a fan stated how embarrassing it must be being an Anti in this fandom when an episode like “Forever with Lord Sesshomaru” exists. Guys, this shipper and all those who liked their post are showing their true colors. Perpetuating and/or anticipating these sexualized images of young girls is a grave issue in both our society and media alike. I think we can all agree on that, or at least I hope so. It’s remarks like these that prove we still got a long way to go in terms of progress, and if we ever hope to effectively reverse some of our backwards way of thinking. So serious question for ya in regard to this: Why is it too much to ask that grooming be portrayed for what it is? Grooming. To clarify, grooming is bad and needs to be painted in a bad light. It’s as simple as that. If only we could all acknowledge it for what it is, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.

Historical accuracy and cultural differences aside, it appears the crux of the matter between Sessrin shippers and Antis is our acceptance and/or denial of fiction’s influence on real life. If we can’t agree on this, then we’ll never agree on anything else. As mentioned earlier, there is more than enough evidence to support the idea that fiction impacts our lives in extraordinary ways. I, for one, believe in the transformative power of stories. I think they do more for us than many of us give them credit for and/or are inclined to admit.

This is partially why I believe that the majority of sessrin folk are missing the point most of the time. All they do is focus on insignificant and irrelevant information that accomplishes nothing but more gaslighting and strawmanning. Whether it be an intentional or unconscious decision, whatever we argue goes right over their head. All they do is throw around deflections and antagonizing remarks that serve no real purpose other than to make Antis out to be the unreasonable and irrational ones. Making connections between our own lives and our stories is a completely natural and normal occurrence. If those particular shippers insist on denying just how interconnected real life and fiction both are, what that tells me is they’re either out of touch with reality or deliberately choose to be.

Just to be clear, I am of the opinion that most if not all antis aren’t real life predators. If they say they aren’t, I honestly take their word for it. Speaking to Sessrin shipper directly: We know it’s not Sesshomaru you want to be but Rin. No, we’re not calling you pedophiles or groomers. None of us think you are using a fictional ship to attract underage fans to be the Rin in your life or anything of the sort. We are well aware that many of you are self-inserting yourself as Rin, so please don’t feel the need to tell us yourself because that would be stating the obvious.

I learned from a few of you since this sequel was announced that the Sessrin relationship isn’t just a ship but an opportunity for you to confront the person who used and abused you. So there’s two issues with this I’d like to raise. (Sorry if I’m repeating myself, but it’s urgent I stress this again!) This is what I have to say:

If fiction does not affect real life or have the ability to normalize anything as you claim to believe, then why does “fixing” what happened to you via your preferred choice of coping associated with these two characters in the first place? Why bring your past abuse into this at all if at the end of the day it’s “just fiction” and nothing more to you but a source of entertainment?

By confessing that you use Sessrin to cope with your past trauma, you therein reveal that Sessrin does in fact resemble an adult-child relationship with a grooming dynamic. So why then would you want other fans to be exposed to a pairing that brings to mind the very abuse you endured? We’re supposed to stop this toxic cycle- NOT find more ways to manifest and relive it, much less subject other fans to it.

You may think that Sessrin doesn’t fit the textbook definition of what child grooming is, but that’s not to say it doesn’t embody it or that it doesn’t at the very least have traces of it that stand out.

“Antis are miserable people who don’t know how to enjoy a good story. It’s just fiction, stop ruining it for other fans!”

Well, no, it’s not just fiction or just a story. Some of you evidently went and proved that yourself, and without my help, by revealing how you relate Sessrin to your own life and apply it to cope with past abuse. Past abuse or not, as far as I can tell we’re all equally invested in these characters. That speaks volumes and just goes to show that fiction touches our lives in long-lasting ways.

I have something I want to say concerning some of who believe that it’s inconsiderate of antis who have been victims of grooming or another form of child abuse to tell other victims who ship Sessrin how they should cope with their trauma. Now as much as I respect the various means victims discover to deal with their painful pasts, there’s always an appropriate time and a place for these things to occur. We must seek out better ways to safely cope with the abuse we lived through (if any) without running the risk of hurting and endangering others.

There are plenty of fans in other fandoms who don’t try to defend their ships going canon, because they’re able to recognize an unhealthy or toxic pairing when they see one and won’t try to justify it. A Sessrin romance simply does not belong on a show geared towards teens, and I really don’t need to go into detail about why we shouldn’t support it, at least canon-wise. Shipping Sessrin is your right, but if you don’t keep it to yourself and your corner of the fandom then you really shouldn’t be surprised by the opposition. All we ask is you respect that their specific dynamic falls under the category of child grooming (or very close) and should be treated as such in public. The world of fiction may be wider than the world we live in, but that doesn’t always mean “anything goes.” In the creative spaces our minds occupy we must still adhere to the same fundamental and moral guidelines we live by in life. There’s nothing wrong with exploring new terrains and experimenting with ideas, but we must also remember that our stories are all about communicating and connecting with people. So let’s please be more mindful of the sort of messages they’re sending.

Besides, this isn’t only about you and what makes you feel safe, it’s about all of us. I don’t know how much more I can stress that really. How can thoughts endanger our children, you ask? Well, it’s not like we’re suggesting that our thoughts can jump out of our tvs, materialize themselves, and place kids under mind control. The forces behind fiction are a lot more complex and nuanced than a “monkey see, monkey do” approach, so don’t waste any more time trying to describe that to us. You’re taking this argument in the wrong direction.

Take the “violent video games breed killers” theory. I’m afraid you’re misconstruing what we’re saying and then taking it quite too literally. Please stop twisting our words, because nobody on our side is saying that just because you play violent video games that you’ll become a violent person. The Sessrin equivalent of that would be if you ship them then you must be a pedophile or turning into one. *sigh* I know you guys are feeling attacked, but I’m afraid your defensive nature is keeping you from thinking straight. Clearly, there are always exceptions (I’d recommend reading up on the Slender Man case), but Antis aren’t saying you’re one of them.

You see, it’s not so much about the content as it is the notion of the content. Kids and teens who are playing these video games have been informed that killing is wrong, because they grew up learning that early on like the rest of us. No sane person would advocate for violence and nonsensical killing in real life. Since they fully understand the severity of the consequences of killing a person in real life, they are able make a clear distinction between the two. When it comes to killing there is hardly any ambiguity. Sadly, that is far from the truth when it comes to sexualizing girls. It should immediately be perceived as wrong leaving no room for interpretation, and yet here we are still putting up with these inaccurate and demeaning female representations.

Most children who have been groomed don’t realize it till years down the road. If they aren’t ever taught the telltale signs to properly labeling grooming situations, how do you expect them to make sense of and relate to a fictional version? Let’s think of about it from a child’s perspective. Yes, this includes teens who rely pretty heavily on adult guidance and the content we put out there for them. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment and picture that you’ve never had child grooming explained to you (because that’s just the reality for so many unfortunately). Wouldn’t you say it’s possible for them to deduce that what they see on their screens is how they come to discern something in real life, especially if they have little to no experience with it? Perceived realism is plausible, y'all.

What it comes down to in the end is that the ideas and emotions we cultivate behind these stories leave an impression on others. Impressions are capable of influencing the way we see the world, which in turn affects us and beyond just our imagination. The way I look at it, stories contribute to how and why we normalize certain beliefs and trends. If fiction reflects real life like most of us tend to agree, then wouldn’t you say Sessrin is a (in)direct result of this world’s tendency to place young girls in overly sexual or romantic environments? Where do you think fiction draws its inspiration from? Sure, some of it originates from our imagination, but most of what drives us to create these stories is the real world and the people who live in it.

Fiction is meant to mirror reality, but it’s ridiculous to suggest that it’s only a one-way street. That fiction in no way, shape, or form influences our reality? Or that it only works the other way around? With all due respect, that’s simply not true. No productive discourse can be had if we choose to ignore the truth and don’t come together (at least halfway) to tackle the real issues at hand.

Okay, I think I’ll leave it off there! Thanks so much for reading. I expect this to be my last blog on any topic regarding Inuyasha in the near future. As much as I’ve looked forward to answering all of your asks and writing all the blogs I have over these past almost 5 months, I think it’s best if I spend some time away for now. With the sequel fast approaching, I’m doing what I always do: hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. I’ve met some amazing people along the way, that’s for sure. And who knows, maybe you’ll see me active in the tags sooner than we think. Until then, it’s been an absolute pleasure! Enjoy the sequel, all of you. 💜

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #it's been real y'all #catch ya on the flipside #(which I hope is in a promising sequel 🤞)

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thesuitelife547 · 4 years

Text

My ONF MV Theory Thoughts

So this is probably long and wordy so I’d just like to warn anyone ahead of time. I broke it down by listing the MVs in the order that I think they belong in (it’s almost the order that they released them surprisingly) and the reasons behind what I thought the storyline was in relation to an overall storyline and pretty much why I put them in that order. If anyone has any questions about what I said, questions in general, or thoughts about the MVs and your own theories, feel free to reach out!

I did actually put a condensed version of what I think is going on in the MVs first and then got further in depth, going through each music video, in the section after.

Thanks!

- Marisa

My Thoughts on the MV Storyline (Condensed)

Overall, my thoughts about the MVs is that ONF were originally humans that were recruited through Laun, who was already an android/robot, to join an organization to help take over the earth or to destroy it (Complete & ON/OFF). In that process they would also become part androids/robots. Over time they begin to see their impact and after the disappearance of Laun, of which they searched all over and couldn’t find him (We Must Love), they begin to see the effects of their decisions and perhaps come to regret ever joining an organization so they begin to rebel (Why) in the dystopia of the world that they’ve created. In the end, alternates are sent in to fix the problem and what happens is that they decide to jump to another timeline (Sukhumvit Swimming). It is through that timeline that they get to a completely revolutionized future and create identities for themselves (My Name Is). They are then in a stronger position to fight against the organization that has been seeking them out ever since they jumped ship to create the world that they see fit (Beautiful Beautiful).

My Thoughts on the MV and Order (In Depth)

Complete

It seems very normal in a way? Yeah there are things coming down from the sky and they have transmissions, rockets, and a globe, but if I were to tie it in to the rest of their MVs, it would be that this one is the one where they’re observing Earth. Other than the objects around them, it doesn’t really seem like there’s much in them having to do anything. Another one of my thoughts is that maybe this is their alternate “normal” dimension, as in the one where they aren’t robots. We later see in Why that Wyatt gets cloned, supposedly, something like that could’ve happened to them as well. Another theory is that this MV could also be a case of them being observed to see if they’re a good fit for the organization before they actually get committed to doing anything.

Another thing to point out is that none of them have those fancy computer watches and they aren’t really doing anything within their sort of “powers” of these MVs. Yes, I know it could be before they thought about using something like that but for the sake of the storyline, that’s what I’m going with. Other than Laun, who we see as the first one to use the flare gun, or whatever it was, and the one to do something with the rocket, there’s really nothing else besides some stuff sitting around that they go through. Before he used it, there was a shot of everyone on the roof, besides him, looking up to the sky. Wyatt was the only other one that wasn’t there but he uses the smoke signal, I think, after.

Therefore I’m going to take it as Laun was the leader of all of this stuff. He could’ve been the main android/robot collecting data and that’s why he was so important in the other MVs and why the other guys were so desperately trying to search for him. He probably had some sort of knowledge about what was going on, maybe.

If we were to go off of the lyrics of the song, the song tells the other person that they complete them, so maybe, in perspective of the MV, is it Laun who completes them and introduces them to the world beyond which they knew?

ON/OFF

I see this MV as the sort of transportation MV. After the guys have already left Earth, they’re now being introduced to the world and perhaps they’re starting to be converted to sort of androids/robots. I take that from the mark on Hyojin’s neck being faint. I believe that Laun probably is already one, hence him sleeping in the room and being isolated from everyone else as they look on, he was getting recharged or uploading the data that he knew to the computer system, which is why there was an uploading screen during the music video.

Because the guys are still kind of human, that’s why they’re just doing normal things and why they don’t really interact with Laun during the music video. They’re exploring the contents of the place they’ve now entered and are getting a better feel for the world that they are now entering. Laun, on the other hand, probably needs to be protected since he’s the one with the information and the one who puts the disk into the machine, the rocket looking thing. It’s probably his information that he’s uploaded onto the system so it would know and could thereby send out more rockets, perhaps? If those things in the sky were maybe rockets.

One thing that is interesting is the mirror that says ‘My Name Is’ and where Laun puts a picture of himself. I’m assuming that perhaps he was once human and doesn’t want to forget that once human side of himself. Laun is also seen wearing a school uniform type outfit at one point during the MV, when he’s putting the information into the rocket, and it seems like when he faints on the ground the other guys are wearing something similar, too. Perhaps he fainted because of an overdrive or he ran out of battery? Hence him lying in the room by himself because he needs to recharge?

Lyrically, the lyrics say that “You’re my producer” and “Make me into your man, I’m yours.” In the perspective of the storyline, they could be taken as the guys are fully giving themselves to the project at hand, resigning themselves to be created however the person controlling them wants. Also, obviously, they talk about being turned on and off, which, if they were made into robots and androids, could probably be done to them.

We Must Love

By this point, the guys are seeing the sort of consequences that come with their actions. The first scene of the colorful earth turning into a dystopia type land with, what I’m now calling rockets, raining down on the sky, and MK watching on shows that they’re not surprised that any of that is happening. Yet because of the world beginning to fall apart, this is where I think that it all starts to break down, and how it turns into the world in Why. Perhaps they didn’t know that things would turn out like this or perhaps they didn’t realize that things would get that bad, either way, I think that during this entire duration they’re finally realized just how badly things have gotten and what they’ve actually gotten themselves into.

That’s why it’s so important for them to find Laun. He’s probably the glue that holds it together, holds them all together, and that’s why they’re frantic to find him all by using their specialties that they’ve been trained in. It becomes a theme for them, especially in Why and then it can be seen in Beautiful Beautiful, too. Hyojin is the one who can teleport, kind of, J-Us is the information hacker, MK is the machine/system hacker, and Wyatt is the one with the motorcycle but I don’t know what that does yet. Both E-Tion and U seem like they’re the ones to manipulate machines.

I don’t think Laun just got up and disappeared, though. In the context of the MV, in the scene where everyone is running to him, he’s fiddling with the watch and then disappears. I think it’s important to point out that the guys are all wearing a school uniform type outfit, similar to the school uniform outfit that they wore in ON/OFF and the one that Laun wore as well when he was putting the information into the rocket. From U’s past memory about them, they were all probably in class together to learn about their specialties and what their true missions were. So when they’re all searching for Laun, some time has probably passed since they no longer have to attend those lessons.

But anyway, I think Laun might’ve traveled back into the past. On a scene with J-Us in the room that Laun was in, there was a warning on the screen behind him at one point that said time travel was being operated. If the other holds true, that Laun disappeared before they were even out in the world, it could mean that he’s still time traveling, or at least someone is. I like to think that it’s him for really one reason.

That potential reason is because of the scene at the train station with E-Tion finding him. What I think E-Tion finds is a different version of Laun, which is why he looks so calm and is just reading a book. If Laun did go to the past and change the timeline, then it could be presumed that the current Laun of that time might not be doing what he was originally doing. That may also be the reason why, at the end of the MV, he turns to look back at Hyojin but it doesn’t seem like he has any recollection about him. He does still have the mark on his neck, though, which means he might not be entirely free from fate. He could’ve been assigned to do something else in that timeline. When J-Us hacked into information about Laun, it did say that his address was Universe 01 but we don’t know what universe the guys are in. Another theory is that maybe it’s the guys that are time traveling, but I don’t really think so. They could potentially be jumping around to different timelines looking for Laun but I don’t think they’d ever find the true Laun that they’re searching for.

Another reason for Laun’s disappearance could be that he was tired of it. He was looking at the image of the whale swimming with a blank expression so maybe he wanted to be free like the whale swimming in the ocean instead of sheltered and used, like what was seen in the ON/OFF MV. Instead of just being used, he wanted to simply live his life. But like I mentioned, he still has the barcode on when they find, who I’m assuming, is that timeline’s Laun, so maybe he can’t truly escape it but can pretend like it doesn’t exist and try to forge a new lifestyle for himself.

However, on the same line, I do think that Laun probably remembered Hyojin but chose not to do anything or show any recognition if he’s jumping around on the same timeline. Was it for Hyojin’s own good? Or for his? It did seem like he sensed someone on the other side of the train station where E-Tion was and honestly, that would probably be the only other explanation for the mark on his neck still being there if he were to travel to a different time. That would also explain why the guys still have memories of him even if he traveled back and changed the timelines. They’ve also become part androids in the process and are unaffected by the changing of the timelines because they also have the ability to change them. Therefore, rather than maybe Laun not remembering E-Tion at the train station, we don’t actually know because he never saw him. Or maybe it would’ve been another situation like with Hyojin, he could just pretend like he doesn’t.

Hyojin did have a vision of a happy Laun reading a book in the forest only to have a memory of him crying before he rested on the train. Hyojin is on a lot of trains. But anyway, the scene of happy Laun could have been one that was sent to Hyojin to remember him by while the scene with his tears could’ve been the reality.

But out of all of the MVs so far, the lyrics I think really relate with the story of Laun disappearing. The lyrics talk about strange things happening since they met the other person wondering if they lost their memories of the past, future, or even of a different world and also expresses their confusion because they don’t actually know what happened.

Why

There’s really one main reason why I think Why comes after We Must Love and that’s because of the setting. By this point the guys are seemingly against each other compared to when they were in We Must Love and seemingly working together to find Laun. Or at least that was how it seemed. We never actually did see them together throughout the MV, but it did seem like they all cared for him and were aiming for the same kind of goal. This MV clearly shows us that they’re no longer on the same side. E-Tion threatens U and J-Us threatens Hyojin. Those two even have a fight. Also, it showed that Hyojin and J-Us were once friends with one another, they were both looking out on the city together, but I think that as their opinions about their situation became divided, there was a split in them. Therefore they’re all looking for the same thing but for different reasons.

I think this MV has split them up into the On and Off teams. While I’m not positive who is on what side, I do think that maybe Hyojin is on the side of whatever organization they’re in and I’m basing that off of him still having a mark on his neck, only this time it’s darker than what it was in the ON/OFF MV. That could mean that he’s completely become an android and one of them, but I also have another theory that I’ll get into later. Anyway, it could also be said that that’s the same as Wyatt, who they seemed to be cloning and who did have an android/computer systems back. However, that would be an android Wyatt and not the real Wyatt since he throws the key away. I attribute to the Off team working against the organization.

But there are points when it seems like maybe everything is not that black and white. MK is using the googles which sends out beams into the world but the next scene is time reversing itself as those rockets seem to be moving back up into the air very slowly. Perhaps MK was the one to end up reversing those rockets, I’m still calling them rockets, falling from the sky. That could also be the reason why an alternate Hyojin comes and makes the current Hyojin disappear along with the city at the end and the rockets still coming down. Maybe the On team were getting swayed to change sides therefore an alternate Hyojin was sent in to fix the problem to make things go down the path they intended to be. That could also be why Wyatt was being cloned. If they needed another person to help fulfill their missions, they could substitute him. But the theory about an alternative Hyojin is why the mark on his neck could be dark. This alternate Hyojin has committed to the organization to do its bidding, including ridding the world of his old self.

But then how does it all relate if he gets rid of his old self and I said that I don’t think they’re affected by time traveling? It’s because I do think that there are multiple timelines and universes. That was shown by them having Laun’s address in Universe 01. With that information it can be presumed that maybe other versions of themselves live in other universes, only they take on different lives. So even if alternate Hyojin destroys this timeline’s Hyojin, that doesn’t mean that he’s gone forever. There could be an infinite amount of universes. It’s just for the particular timeline we’re in, Hyojin has walked down the path of joining the organization and potentially becoming a rebel. If the organization that they’re working for wants to take over/destroy the world, then they need to get rid of this timeline’s Hyojin to achieve their goal. The Hyojin’s of other timelines could be doing something different. Near the end of the MV we do see mirror worlds of each other, one on the top of the screen and one on the bottom. It could be that those worlds exist in different timelines and universes. The time traveling and remembering could pertain to only their timeline. They would need other means to jump into other timelines, which I’ll mention later.

On the other hand, if the Off team is the rebellion, it doesn’t add up why U didn’t do anything when he went to see the cloned Wyatt and was caught by E-Tion. Maybe he wanted to see the progress or maybe he did end up doing something? I do think that it was U who told E-Tion maybe the true reason why things were happening when they were at the abandoned building and why E-Tion looked so distraught and still sat there after U left. One interesting thing is that there’s a blue flower behind E-Tion and in the Sukhumvit Swimming MV, he plays with a blue flower on the moon.

Another interesting thing is that MK has the googles in this MV that make things into a static rainbow spectrum of color. I think Wyatt ends up getting those goggles in Beautiful Beautiful but I’ll touch on that when I get to that MV. Honestly, there are so many snippets of things that are scattered around MV to MV like the blue flower, googles, the globes, the red looking record player, and the red box that Hyojin goes towards. A lot of things are similar and are carried over which I think is also an interesting way to tie the MVs together.

But going back to the storyline, other reasons why I think the Off team is against the organization is because U did run from the police when he was in the museum type location and it seemed like he was desperately looking for information when he was in the room with the computer and going through the CDs. Also, when Hyojin and J-Us have their showdown with J-Us pointing a gun at Hyojin, all of the masked people come from Hyojin’s side. I would assume that those people are also workers for the organization and that’s why he has such numbers that are able to be on his side. As for Wyatt, he was the one who threw away the key. Not sure what he would’ve done with it otherwise, but it was probably a part of the overall picture of whatever the ultimate goal was.

Overall, I think this MV is about how they were separate but how they’re slowly looking towards the same goals and slowly coming together, since there are some scenes of them all being on the roof together from above. While they’re all still far away from each other, maybe they don’t truly trust each other, it’s possible to say that the Off team was successful in creating rebels out of the On team.

In the lyrics for the chorus, they talk about someone being dangerous and how they’re breaking down the person and also pulling them deeper. It could be said that the organization that they are a part of is continuing to hurt them the longer they stay connected to it and they’ve come to that realization that they need to separate from it for the betterment of themselves.

One thing that I’d like to mention before going into the next MV that I think is in line is that I think the googles that MK has help them jump through or transport through, including maybe the watches but I only saw E-Tion with one this MV, unless I missed others. The googles that MK has created a door for both Wyatt and E-Tion. The goggles showed MK a combined red and blue door and it presented a red one for Wyatt and blue for E-Tion. Maybe that was somehow showing that the two teams should be combined? That they’d work stronger together?

Sukhumvit Swimming

The reason why I mentioned the googles and using them for jumping through is because it could be that they used the googles to jump to another timeline, where Sukhumvit Swimming comes in. Yet I don’t think that it’s just any simple timeline. Based on the scenes of Wyatt driving, those computerized backgrounds, it could be said that maybe they are in between timelines, like they have no definitive place anywhere. Sidenote, those same computerized backgrounds are shown on the screens of the place that U is in, I believe, too. Back to the point, but that’s why images of things that have happened in the past keep appearing through this MV like the red record player, the scene of the hallway where it seemed like that’s the same hallway that Laun disappeared in, the globe, and the dystopian city.

That could also be a reason why E-Tion is looking down at the earth and scenes are bigger behind them. Because they’re not in any particular timeline, they’re looking at things from an outsiders’ perspective. Also, there are scenes of what seems like barcodes dropping quite frequently. That could symbolize that they’ve decided to forgo their past android/robot identities and move forward with their lives as they try to find a new place to restart their lives.

I think I did hear somewhere that in this MV Hyojin is trying to steal time, which is why J-Us comes to stop him on the train and why time stops when he enters. That could potentially relate to his need to find out where Laun went therefore maybe he thought that if he were able to steal time before actually entering any timeline, he’d be able to manipulate it the way that he wants to find out where he went and perhaps reverse what they had done in the other timeline of the dystopia reality. But how is Hyojin here if he disappeared in the other timeline with the city? This would just be another Hyojin from a different dimension and universe.

Even though I think they’re jumping timelines in this storyline, they still have remnants of the past such as E-Tion and the blue flower that was in Why, MK being surrounded by computer monitors, and J-Us and the dystopia city behind him. What may become important later is that in one scene, there looks to be an android arm that is on the ground in J-Us’s dystopian city ruins. Those androids probably relate to Beautiful Beautiful so maybe there is a timeline when those androids are destroyed?

Contextually, Sukhumvit is one of the longest roads/boulevards in the world. That meaning could tie in together with the guys jumping timelines as they go down a long road to find the right one. That could also be why they’re all dressed up as something different. They’ve probably experienced different paths on their way to find the right one that will allow them to fight back with the organization they’re rebelling against. That could also explain why in some scenes time is going forward and in others, time is going backwards. Plus, the song also explains going on a trip and traveling which ties into what they’re doing story wise. It could be said that they’re swimming through the universes and timelines.

Also, at the end of the MV, we can see that the bullets that Hyojin and J-Us shot are reversed and then time starts up again. That could show that whatever happened during their trip wouldn’t stay permanent since they’re like in the in-between where time has been temporarily frozen.

My Name Is

As it pertains to the story, I see My Name Is as the part where they’ve finally reached the timeline they want and where they establish themselves as a group and reassert their bonds with one another. After they were no longer working on the same side temporarily in Why, this MV relates to the story as them reiterating that they are working together now in their new timeline and universe. By creating identities for themselves they’re also showing that they plan on staying in this timeline to fulfill their duties.

Beautiful Beautiful

The reason why I think Beautiful Beautiful is the last one in the timeline, as in the most current, is a similar reason as to why I put Why after We Must Love, and that is the setting. Beautiful Beautiful seemingly takes place in what I see as a revolutionized future. In Why and Sukhumvit Swimming, there were some flying cars, or flying somethings, in the MVs but in the case of Why and We Must Love, those were almost dystopian worlds that were getting destroyed. Reversely, in my opinion, Beautiful Beautiful takes place in a world where the organization has won.

But then why is it more futuristic looking? One reason could be because when jumping timelines in Sukhumvit Swimming, they went farther into the future. Another reason could be that after destroying the current world in Why and We Must Love, the organization decided to rebuild the city from the ground up to make it exactly the way they wanted. But then why would the guys choose to go to a timeline when the opposition wins? Well, I think it’s because that no matter what timeline they go to, in some way, the opposition will always win. In the end it could be seen that it’d just be better to go further into the future where they have more resources and probably know more about themselves and have more faith in their skills to defeat them.

Like in previous MVs, they’re still doing what they do best. MK is still hacking into computers, E-Tion and U control machines and have the watches, Hyojin is teleporting, and Wyatt is using the googles to access a computer system and he still has his bike. J-Us, since he’s under arrest, can’t really do as much in this case regarding his information hacking. But maybe it was because of his information hacking that he was able to pass information on to the others about how to temporarily defeat the robots that are chasing them.

A difference in this story compared to the others is that they all looked a lot more relaxed than they once were. In Why and We Must Love they were frantically looking for information and at each other’s throats. In this MV since they’re working together and are able to get things done, they don’t have as much stress accumulated and rely on one another to complete the task at hand, which is saving J-Us at the moment.

Based on the ending of the MV, it could be said that they’ve temporarily won as their Beautiful Beautiful cube ends up in the sky and they admire the fireworks, but I would definitely say that the happiness probably doesn’t last. They may have won a temporary battle and got J-Us back, but there will definitely be future issues, which of course depends on their future MVs.

Going back to this, I think there were a lot of ties into past MVs and similar scenes. For one, Hyojin was still on a train with masked figures, the red record was shown again, and the googles that Wyatt wore seemed like the ones MK had in Why. One of the bigger things, I think, was the usage of the cube at the end. Instead of seemingly wreaking havoc on the earth like the other cubes of the other MVs did, this cube was ONF’s cube that helped them instead of rain down rockets. In one of the scenes when U and E-Tion are in their hideout, which I’m pretty sure is the yellow machine that comes up behind U at the junkyard looking place, the cube is on a screen behind them and it says that all systems are active. Who knows, maybe during their time on the run they figured out the best way to fight back against the organization. Using the same method, the cube and with all of their hacking abilities, they were able to cause a data attack and subsequent system error. That was shown on the green banners that Hyojin and J-Us saw after he was rescued and before they jumped out of the building at the end.

Conclusion

Overall, I think the basic gist of it is just like what I mentioned in the condense version. There’s some organization that ONF were once a part of that they’ve become rebellions of and are now working against. It’s an interesting concept, that of androids/robots, that they’ve had from the beginning and I like how everything still connects with each other with similar skills and abilities being shown throughout or similar looking scenes that relate one MV to the next.

When I initially saw the MVs, I thought that maybe I would organize them in a different order than when they premiered, but thinking about them, they kind of make sense in the order that they showed up. I only switched ON/OFF and Complete. But even if they were to be in the same order, as in ON/OFF first and then Complete, I think an argument could be made for that way, too. It could be said that in ON/OFF, ONF are created as the robots but are created with more human qualities so they can go to Earth in Complete and get the information needed. Yet because Laun was the one to put the information in the rocket, I assume that he got that information when he was already on Earth in Complete, which is why I reversed them.

But if you’ve made it this far, then congrats! I know this was long. I honestly didn’t expect me to have so much to say about these MVs and storylines and things I noticed that were interesting. I guess I just found myself being drawn into it in a way. But I can’t wait to see what kind of future stuff gets put out and if it’ll continue to relate to the storyline that they’ve been telling so far.

#onf #thoughts #mv theory #text

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wastelandcth · 4 years

Note

oooo could you write about a blind first date with cal? and he’s not about that stuff cuz to him “love sucks” but he can’t help but feeling so enamored by you? from your laugh or your smile on your first date and you even offer to pay for dinner???? he thanks the stars for ashton forcing him to go on that day because you’re his baby 😭😭😭

ashton really is the perfect wingman don’t fight me on this

Blind Date

Calum hated blind dates. He'd never had good luck on any of the dates his friends had set him upon. The people he'd usually met up with were either too much or not enough. They'd talk too much about themselves and leave Calum with little to no time to talk about himself. They'd know too much about him to ever really let Calum talk, which left him anxious to see what version of Calum they knew. Did they know the Calum who supposedly slept around with anyone he could find? Did they know the Calum who would rather spend his Friday night watching movies with Duke instead of drinking his sorrows away at some shitty bar?

He was intrigued when Ashton told him that he'd be meeting up with you at the natural history museum, not the typical blind date spot. So he'd agreed to the date, making his way to the museum on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. His windbreaker blocked him from the raindrops that feel around him as he made his way up the steps towards where you were stood near the entrance.

"Calum?" you asked as he made his way over to you, a smile on your face as he nodded and said your name to confirm. "Nice to meet you, should we head inside?" you asked and laughed softly, leading him into the quiet museum.

Calum had never had this much fun at a museum before. He'd never been so interested in history or more specifically he was interested in how excited you got while telling him facts about the artifacts you'd studied at school. He liked the way your eyes shined as you told him about the dinosaur fossils in one section. He liked how you seemed to have all the answers to the questions he would ask you and if you didn't know the answer you'd pull out your phone and try to find an answer for him.

Walking through the museum gift shop, Calum smiled as he spotted you looking through a few books and notebooks. He found himself gravitating towards you, wanting to know more about you and your knowledge on the museum itself. He also couldn't help the blush on his face as you bought two stickers, to commemorate the fun trip to the museum you'd both had. It had been a tradition for you, you'd explained, that anytime you visited a museum or any establishment you found loving, you'd buy a sticker to add to your collection and it was only fair that Calum had one too.

By the time you two had made your way out of the museum, the rain had stopped outside and Calum's stomach was grumbling. At the suggestion of lunch, he couldn't help but feel relieved when you agreed and suggested a couple of places nearby that you enjoyed. He felt himself craving to spend more time with you and lunch felt like the perfect opportunity.

Calum liked how you talked, he liked how you used your hands when you explained to him the inner workings of yourself and who you wanted to become. He liked that you asked him questions in which you genuinely seemed interested in. He never would've thought that he'd be talking about his favorite places in Sydney and what his favorite childhood memory was, but he couldn't help but open up to you. It was refreshing, to be able to show himself to someone, he trusted you and he knew that whatever he said today was going to be kept between the two of you. He'd taken a step away from your date to go into the bathroom, an excuse he used in order to text Ashton to update him on how great the date was going and how he really liked you. Stepping back over to the booth in the corner of the restaurant, Calum was shocked to find you signing a receipt and sliding your card back into your wallet. He sat back down across from you, a chuckle leaving his lips as he studied your face.

"What?" you laughed quietly, raising your eyebrow as you took the final sip of your lemonade. "Oh shoot, were you going to order dessert?" you asked worriedly, your eyes widening as you tried to flag down the waiter again. Your cheeks flushed as you felt Calum's hand on your own, your gaze meeting his.

"No, it's just, most of the time people assume I'm paying," Calum said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he intertwined your fingers. "I just wasn't expecting it. You've treated me to amazing Vietnamese food and stickers. I couldn't be more grateful." he nodded, "How about I buy us dessert from one of my favorite spots?"

Calum used to hate blind dates. But as you laid in his arms months later, whispering softly about a civilization you'd been studying recently, Calum couldn't help but thank his lucky stars for having Ashton set you up with him. He was thanking his lucky stars for bringing you into his life, for amazing Vietnamese food and the delicious shaved ice you both had shared that same rainy Wednesday afternoon. He'd be thanking his lucky stars for having you in his arms at night, for being able to kiss you and give you all the love he had to give.

#calum hood imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #calum hood blurb #5sos one shot #calum hood one shot #5sos #calum hood #gemma writes #anon requested

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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years

Text

Theurgist

Chapter Five: A Quick Laugh at Death

-dragonswithjetpacks

Notes: I am so sorry it took so long. I had a busy week last week and was gone all weekend. I got really tired of trying to right this chapter so I am sorry if it seems rushed and choppy. I mainly just wanted the quirky bits. And I have so many things already pre-written I'd like to get to. Including the temple. And then tying in the bite scene later on.

Read here on Ao3

Ferelith looked down into the reflection of the water, examining the dried blood on the side of her face. A small shard of anger slithered into her thoughts when she thought about the creature from the crash. The worm was trying to fight it, but the twirling shadow had clouded it’s thoughts. Her patron was still there, protecting her the best he could. But he would not speak. Ferelith looked up to the moon and saw it was still a few days away before she could perform the ritual to speak with him. Though there was always the option to try. She sighed, setting her gloves to the side to wipe them off later and she dipped her hands into the water. As she began to wipe off her face, Gale had approached her.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a word once we’ve settled in for the night,” he said.

“If this is about what happened earlier,” she rose to her feet, “then I assure you I’m quite alright.”

“Actually, no,” he paused as he turned. “But I’m glad to see you’re feeling a bit more like yourself.”

A swift breeze pulled her hair into her face, but she was quick to tuck it behind her ear. Gale watched her eyes closely, but saw nothing peculiar within them. They were just as they always had been. Pale yellow with nothing of importance gleaming inside. No hint of anger or excitement. Just simply mindful and content. And the lingering dark essence he had sensed before disappeared. There was just Ferelith with her pale skin and dark hair holding her arms against her chest to brace herself against the cold wind of the river.

“You know,” she said, squeezing her arms. “I’ve met many wizards in my travels. Have you… met many warlocks?”

“A few,” he nodded.

“What were they like?”

Gale paused for a moment. A warlock was unlike a wizard in the sense of how they obtained their power. A wizard was impatient, in most cases. They desired power, but that wasn’t any different than any one else. What separated a warlock was the means in which they obtained that power and what sort of desire drove them. It varied upon the person. And when he looked at Ferelith, the quiet woman who cradled the apron with her books and her singed quill, he did not see a desire for power. He saw a woman with secrets. A woman blanketed by a protective shadow. He took a deep breath.

“Nothing like yourself,” he smiled at her in adoration.

Her eyes, once cold and gazing lost across the river came round to acknowledge the compliment of her companion. He caught the reflection of gratitude within them and knew her smile to be true.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” she looked back out to the water. “It even makes me sound a bit dangerous. But I’ll take the ambiguity as a compliment.”

“I simply don’t know enough about you to say otherwise,” he attempted to correct his statement.

“I appreciate your honesty,” she let a little sigh slip through, leading Gale to believe she was finished with his company. “For the record… you’re one of the kindest wizards I’ve ever met.”

“I do try… my lady.”

“Alright enough flattery,” she waved her hand slightly as he left her line of sight, her gaze still focused on the rolling stream in front of her. “I’ll see you later.”

His footsteps faded out, only to be replaced by another. Ferelith glanced up at the sky, realizing they had a few hours of daylight left before she could retire. There was still much to be done, but she had a sudden urge to be alone. Whoever it was behind her, they were in no rush. And she wondered how long she could stay silent before they urged her to speak.

“The breeze will just get colder as the sun goes down,” she said eyeing the colors shifting as the sun set. “It will draw me closer to the fire. Soon enough.”

“Take your time,” a male’s voice startled her.

Ferelith turned, seeing Astarion with his newly gifted bow strapped to his back, a few crude arrows in his hand.

“Oh, I though you were- well, it doesn’t matter…”

“I was just leaving,” he stated, glancing back to the rest of their party gathering around the pit as Gale prepared a fire.

“And you’re, what? Taking requests?” she smirked over her shoulder.

“I’m afraid the prime rib will be unavailable tonight,” he shifted his weight to his other foot. “But, in order to make up for it, I’ve offered a few bolts to your collection.”

Ferelith lowered her arms, granting him her full attention. “To my what?”

“The village coward dropped his quiver. There were a few arrows in there a bit too short to be considered an arrow. I tossed them onto you bedroll.”

“Oh… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. At the quality they appear to be in, they could have just been poorly made arrows that couldn’t be used by a proper bow,” he cringed. “They might just snap straight in half.”

“Right,” she nodded, admitting that her thoughts were lost on him.

Astarion could see her drifting back out into the open evening, eyes faded into a distant plane. After what he had witnessed of her earlier that day, he had expected a change to her behavior at camp. The outburst to him meant a reveal of character. Not this reclusive woman who was lost in thought. While Ferelith had been a mostly quiet person from the beginning, there were still those snarky comments between he had rather enjoyed. This was simply just disappointing. She did not even bother to send him away as he turned to leave.

***********************************************************

After an evening delegating a very passive aggressive discussion between Shadowheart and Lae’zel over what she would consider dinner, Ferelith was forced to resist the urge to turn in for the night. Her head had been pounding, likely a side affect of the illithid’s mental damage from before. Still, she had agreed to have a moment with Gale. And least with him, she knew half of what to expect. That included walking up to see him observing his own double.

“Be with you in a moment,” his voice echoed.

His attention never left the mirror image, his eyes focused upon his own face. Ferelith snorted a bit, rolling her eyes with a sigh as she glanced around for something else to keep her occupied. She allowed him a few more seconds before she grew impatient.

“Is there a reason you’re studying your own image?”

Gale turned, a smirk shot at her to acknowledge the teasing tone.

“Indulging in a spot of vanity. Handsome devil, aren’t I?” he spun around with a wave of his, causing the image to vanish. “Be that as it may.”

It slowly fizzled down to a few sparks. He folded his hands behind his back, very much in the estute sort of way she would have imagine. His brow lowered and she could feel the tone shifting to a more serious manner. Though, she felt she had enough of it that day.

“Ceremorphosis. What does it make you think of?”

“The tadpole,” she answered, knowing it was what he expected.

Still, he responded with utmost enthusiasm.

“Spot on,” he winked. “Day one: fever and memory loss. Day two: hallucinations and graying skin. Day three: hair loss and blood leaking from all orifices. Need I go on?”

“By all means,” she nodded.

“Day four: excruciating pain as the skeleton and organs reform and reposition. Day five: the host's personality has disappeared. Fingers, toes, and limbs elongate,” he became a bit aggravated as a small chuckle fell from her lips. “I take it you get the picture.”

“I’ve already committed to the lesson, Gale,” she grinned. “Might as well get my money’s worth.”

“Day six,” he lowered his brow, clearly not humored by her sarcasm, “The flesh around the mouth splits to make way for tentacles. Day seven: a mind flayer is born. This is the most annotated version, of course.”

“What you’re saying,” she shifted with crossed arms, “is that I can at least keep my sense of humor until the fifth day? I’d say we only have another night’s worth of laughs, Gale.”

“I’m glad your coping mechanism consists of deflecting the seriousness of this problem with jokes,” he replied.

“You’re no fun tonight,” she tilted her head to the side. “But no worries. We’re two days in. We should have clearly turned gray by now.”

“Spot on again,” he flicked a finger at her. “Orifices remain blissfully unbloodied. Our heads remain clear, and our blood temperature is normal. Any expert will agree: this is… abnormal.”

“Don’t question it so much,” she shrugged. “In all my existence, the only reason I owe my life to anything is because of the abnormal. I’m just lucky to be alive.”

“I’ll toast to that,” he smiled uneasily with a hint of intrigue. “The pragmatic in me, however, sees only the silence before the storm. Something to sleep on. We should get some rest.”

“Thank you for leaving me with that imagery,” she gave a slight nod. “I’m sure it will soothe me as I mediate tonight. Good night, Gale.”

“I’m only here to help,” he gave a half solute.

Ferelith grinned, waving her hand slightly to bid farewell as she retreated to her bedroll. They had acquired a few extra blankets. And she was lucky enough to procure an additional pillow. Leaning against her new luxurious cot was her pack, waiting patiently for her hands to dive into it. And standing directly across it from the fire, just as he was the night before, was Astarion. He seemed to be waiting as patiently as her pack.

“I saw you getting a lecture from our magical friend,” he said the moment she glanced in his direction.

“It was quite informative,” she took a break from straightening her blanket to address him. “Descriptive, at the very least.”

“I have to say,” he said leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “I thought you’d look worse. But no. Not a tentacle in sight.”

“Thank you?” she pulled back, turning a shoulder to him. “I’m hoping it will stay that way.”

“Naturally,” he rose a brow. “But I was thinking… what if it doesn’t?”

Ferelith had thought about what would happen if she did change. But the ever growing stubbornness inside her made her truly believe it would never happen. She was not willing to believe it. Nor was she willing to admit to anyone else that it was a possibility. He let the sentiment settle with her for a moment. Though he could see it had little impact. The blank stare with a slow blink signaled him to proceed.

“Of course,” he went on, tilting his chin to the side with a gleam in his eye, “first sign of change and I’ll have to stop that pretty little heart of yours.”

He almost seemed too excited at the thought of putting her down. Like a wild animal. She crossed her arms, as if to guard her chest from his stare. It did not matter, he could hear the sound of her pounding heart. And it had only grown louder from his statement.

“I am open to suggestions. Knives, poison, strangulation – whatever you’d prefer.”

“I’d prefer not to die,” she said dully.

“Well now you’re just being closed-minded,” he teased. “There are some lovely ways to go.”

“First I listen to Gale talk about the details of turning into a terrifying monster and now you’re telling me all the options I have in which you could kill me? Whoever said chivalry was dead must have no taste for macabre.”

“To be fair, you were the one that pushed the wizard to give those wonderful details. I am giving you these options as a gift.”

“I am ever so grateful. Do go on about the beautiful ways in which I can ensue death,” she opened her arms, flicking her wrists in a manner as if she were receiving the said gift he spoke of.

“You know, I watched urchins freeze to death on the street. It looks peaceful – just like falling asleep.”

“Very poetic… I wonder if drowning feels the same.”

“Ha!” his shoulders fell back as he lifted his head with laughter. “Oh, come on. Humor me. If you had to choose…”

“Fine,” she took a deep breath with a few seconds of thought. “I suppose a knife. Straight to the chest. That seems quick.”

“A classic,” he nodded with approval. “One good thrust to the heart and you’re gone. We need a good blade, of course. Don’t want to waste time hacking and prodding with a dinner half.”

It was the first time in a long time it had happened. The welling feeling in her chest. The tightening of her cheeks. The widening of the eyes. The burst of air from her mouths as her voice let out a loud series of rhythmic laughter. It caught her off guard. So much that she covered her mouth, leaning forward, and looking to Astarion with surprise. She rose her brows in disbelief that he had truly made her laugh.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward toward her like they were a couple of children cackling in school, “I’m getting ahead of myself. This is all a worst case scenario, obviously.”

“You’re terrible,” she giggled, lurching forward with one last tit of laughter. “What about you? Is there any way you’d like for me to end your life?”

“Oh, my dear,” he said with a condescending tone. “I’d like to see you try.”

Ferelith reared back, a bit offended that he held himself so much higher than herself. But she knew he was only testing her. Pushing her to see what sort of outcome he could obtain by doubting her strength.

“Dealer’s choice then,” she said firmly. “I’ll make sure it’s a lovely surprise.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’ll disappoint me,” it was meant to be a positive reinforcement, but the way he said it still made it sound more like a threat. “Now, enough of this talk. Let’s get some rest. The sooner we start tomorrow, the better our chances of keeping this hypothetical.”

“I take it you’re joining us to the tiefling camp, then?”

“Of course, darling,” he replied. “I’ll go wherever you lead.”

“I’d be careful with those words,” she said darkly. “You’ll never know what path I’ll lead you toward.”

“Even better.”

She shook her head at his advancements with a foolish smirk she could not hide. “Good night, Astarion.”

“Good night, Ferelith.”

************************************************************

The next day brought a heavy fog over the camp, dampening both their supplies and their spirits. Ferelith could smell the moisture in the air and knew it would lift as the sun rose. And sure enough, the moment they began to snack on their morning rations they could see a bit of orange illuminating the sky. Their pace quickened and they got to their feet, ready to begin to their journey into a new part of the forsaken land they had been thrown into. The human, the gith, and the two elves made their way out of camp, leaving Shadowheart to sulk to herself as they had agreed to take Lae’zel to question the tieflings and seek further assistance for themselves against her wishes. Though Ferelith had promised the temple would come soon, as she had an interest in what laid within it herself.

The path was quite clear to the camp. And Ferelith wondered how they had missed it so easily before. Or perhaps, they had been far too occupied with their troubles and each other to pay attention to path carved among the rocks. She kicked at the dirt, still a bit dry despite the wet morning, and looked up to the back of her companion who was the only one who managed to sustain any of the information the tieflings had given before. He stopped for a moment, glancing behind him to smile at her, then looking to the others.

“I think we should take a moment to really prepare ourselves for this camp,” he said with an overthought of wishful thinking. “Our main goal is information. We don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“It’ll be fine, Gale,” Ferelith stated, slinging her pack over her shoulder. “We’re only asking a few questions. Getting supplies. There won’t be enough time to do any real damage.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gale whispered slightly to himself with a shrug. “I can think of a few things that could go wrong.”

She ignored him, rummaging through the items in her pack until she felt the cold texture of leather beneath her fingertips. Pulling them out, she gave them one good look before she turned Astarion.

“Here,” she handed him brown leather folded neatly to show the string tied at the top around the collar.

He took them, a bit disgruntled but willingly. Though he wasn’t sure what she expected him to do as she kept searching through the pack.

“Am I supposed to hold onto these?”

“Put them on,” she directed, otherwise paying no mind.

“Right now?” he dipped his head low as he questioned her, staring her in the eyes while waiting for her acknowledgment.

“Yes, right now,” she finally turned to look at him but only for a moment. “You’ve been wearing the same city clothes for days. You should put on some actual leather. One, because it’s more useful. And two, so you don’t look like a complete lost cause.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part because this is a very expensive doublet. And this blouse is of the finest threads in Baldur’s Gate.”

“I’m sure,” she grinned lovingly, looking back down into her pack.

Astarion tossed his new leather armor to the side to free his hands. He began to work on his doublet right away. It was already sliding down his arms when Ferelith looked up, catching the back of him in just his white shirt. He looked… nice. It almost made him feel more humble than he really was. Or at least, more approachable. His hands came up, his fingers loosening the collar. Still facing the rock, he pulled the shirt up and her eyes widened as he lifted it. His back flexed and his hands grasped the bottom of his shirt as he pulled it over. She swallowed… hard… as he turned around. What she had assumed was the doublet in all its puffed out glory… had been the actual thickness of the man’s chest. He was lean, but he far from frail. Seeing it off was a revelation and normally she would have felt annoyed at being so wrong about someone’s character. She inhaled a heavy dose of air, holding it for a few moments as she let her eyes wander. He shook the leather tunic out and she admired the muscle in his forearm tensing as he did. Slowly, she exhaled, observing him turn around with his arms raised trying to pull down the armor. She counted each curve of his abdomen with a small smile. Then, nodding with a bit of appreciation, she looked back down into her bag.

“Well, you certainly have no shame,” Gale nudged her.

“What?” she shrugged with a coy smile. “I’m in the wilderness. My eyes get hungry, too.”

“Careful. Some of the tastiest looking berries are the most poisonous.”

“Better than death by ceremorphosis.”

******************************************************

The back of Zevlor whisked away, his tail thrashed back and forth with irritation as he left. There was something about a tiefling that left an excitement behind for Ferelith. Like a small trail of flame. She breathed a heavy sigh, knowing that the flames would grow larger the longer she stared at them. After all, she had just witnessed them in battle. Turning to her comrades, she noticed a slight irritation within their faces.

“What are we messengers, now?” Astarion seemed particularly the worst.

Ferelith stepped close to him, too close for comfort. It made him shift backward, which is exactly what she wanted. He took several steps back just so she could hiss at him out of hearing range of anyone else. She kept her head down as she spoke.

“Listen, we keep all options open. There’s no agreeing. No disagreeing. If we’re stuck here, we best leave all doors open in case we need a way out. That means seeing what we can do about the druids.”

“Ah, I understand, now,” he said, his chest still out further than than his chin to keep her at bay. “This is the sort of thing we should have discussed before our arrival rather than my appearance.”

Ferelith blinked, her eyes gliding up toward him. “I didn’t expect you to complain in front of the whole sodding camp after watching one of them take an arrow to the chest.”

“Like it makes a difference? They’re all going to die anyway.”

Ferelith crossed her arms, her fingers tapping against her forearm. “If we’re not careful, we’ll die too.”

“Fine, fine,” he waved his hand.

“If you’re done,” Gale interrupted. “I believe there’s a merchant just down the hill.”

She gave him one last warning glance before she turned to the direction Gale was pointing. There was a small set up just on the edge of the camp beneath a stretch of a rock archway. It was a grand entrance, nothing at all comparable to a refugee camp. They followed the trail down, glancing further into it and noticing the make shift buildings and rails along the sides. They seemed misplaced to her. Even the shop they approached looked more like a scatter array of things more than any kind of marketplace.

“Refugees… adventurers. No one in years. And suddenly, we’re overwhelmed. Well me,” he greeted them begrudgingly. “Thank you for beating back those goblins. Most brave of you.”

“I do what I can,” she shrugged, not feeling quite worthy of his gratitude just yet.

“Is there anything you need? Act fast if you do. The ritual will be complete before too long.”

“I do,” she paused, observing Astarion round the display. “We’re a bit short on supplies. But we do have a bit of coin. Are they really locking down the grove? I was hoping to rely on the business here for a short time.”

“I know it’s drastic, but more monsters seem to terrorize this region every day.”

“And the tieflings?”

“We druids will be safe-”

The sound of the merchant drowned as she became distracted by Astarion looking through the array of weaponry. She watched as he ran his fingers over the blades along the table, glancing at her with a mischievous smirk. Her eyes shifted back to the vendor, trying to pay attention as best she could. But she kept wandering back to the rogue. He held up a knife, displaying it for her with a raised brow. She shook her head slightly. But he ignored her, giving the air a few jabs and shrugging, setting it back down with a frown. The next one he picked up, waving a hand down in it like it were a grand prize. She swallowed the lump forming to stop herself from bursting with laughter. It did not work and she was forced to clear her throat rather loudly.

“It sounds like these are dire times,” she blinked to regain her focus.

“You sound just like Khaga.”

“Are these the only weapons for sale?” Astarion interrupted, setting down the knife he was holding with a loud thud.

“These are the only ones I am selling,” he lowered his brow. “There’s a blacksmith further into the camp. Though I’m not sure he has much to offer.”

“Thank you,” Ferelith said loud enough to draw his attention back. “Here’s what I have for… oh, I think a few potions will do.”

“Of course.”

She passed Gale the bottles as they were handed to her who began to slip them into the back of her pack. Astarion had lost interest in the wares and moved back to Lae’zel who was impatiently waiting behind them. Her stare was into the gorge, examining the tieflings as if she were able to spot the one with the information she needed. Ferelith was certain she would have already caused chaos if they were not with her. As she turned around, she could hear Astarion grumbling into her ear.

“Things are about to get a lot more dire with those sad excuses for weapons.”

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” she said as she brushed by the two of them. “Let’s find the blacksmith. Find the lead. And get out.”

“Is the blacksmith necessary?” the gith rolled her eyes.

“Yes,” Ferelith said firmly. “I’ve only got two bolts for my crossbow. The ones Astarion found are useless.”

“I warned you,” he shrugged.

“A snapped bolt could have meant my death.”

“It wouldn’t have been my first attempt to kill you.”

“Nor the last,” she said over her shoulder as she trailed further down into the camp.

#astarion #astarion x pc #astarion x mc #astarion x ferelith #astarion fic #ferelith #ferelith moonshade #medium burn #ferelith writing tag #dwjp writing tag

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rintheyordle · 4 years

Text

Writing/RP Prompts!

Here’s one to start! Linked to me by a friend, so I copy pasta’d from reddit! (THANK YOU JACKALOPPY!):

Pick a number between 1 and 100, and I’ll write either a snippet or response to it as my OC! (BONUS: Ask it as your own OC and I’ll make a little dialog :D)

This is a pretty big list of 100 prompts, so PLEASE CHECK UNDER THE READ-MORE TO SEE IT ALL! Or you can just ask a random question and I’ll go find it. Oooooo RNG!!!

01: If your character wasn’t an adventurer, what livelihood would they lead?

02: Who in the party would your character trust the most with their life?

03: What are your character’s core moral beliefs?

04: What relationship does your character have with their parents and siblings?

05: Does your character have any biases for or against certain races?

06: What is your character’s opinion on nobility? On authority?

07: Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc.

08: What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most?

09: What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship?

10: If your character had time to pick up any artisan’s tools, game set, instrument, etc., what would it be?

11: Describe your character’s current relationship with the player character sitting to your right.

12: What is your character’s current goal, summed up in one sentence?

13: Does your character ever want to “settle down” with a spouse, children, house, etc.?

14: Has your character ever been in love?

15: What battle in the campaign has been most memorable to your character?

16: If your character wasn’t whatever class they are, what would they be instead?

17: What is your character’s favorite season?

18: What would your character’s Zodiac sign be, following stereotypical astrology?

19: Where in the world does your character most want to visit?

20: What is the biggest mistake your character has ever made?

21: Does your character have any noticeable scars? If so, what are their stories?

22: What animal best represents your character?

23: If your character could go back in time and change one thing about their life, what would it be?

24: Which other player character does your character find themselves having the most in common with?

25: Does your character regret any particular choice the party has made?

26: What would your character say their best trait would be?

27: What is your character’s greatest fear? Deep, irrational?

28: What is currently motivating your character to stay with the party?

29: What are your character’s hobbies and interests outside of their class?

30: What would most people think when they first see your character?

31: What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?)

32: What is your character the most insecure about?

33: What person does your character admire most?

34: What does your character admire and dislike the most about the player character sitting to your left?

35: Why is your character’s lowest stat their lowest (the in-character reason, not “because there’s no reason for a wizard to have 16 strength, duh”)?

36: What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music?

37: What stereotypical role would your character play in a high school AU/if they attended a normal high school? (Nerd, jock, bully, goth, etc.)

38: What treasure/item/artifact that your character has collected during the adventure is the most important to them?

39: Is there any particular weapon, item, etc. that your character longs to find?

40: Where does your character feel the most at home?

41: Does your character care about how they’re perceived by others? How do they change themselves to fit in with other people?

42: What does your character think is the true meaning of life?

43: What is your character’s scent? (Bonus points for a description that sounds like it could be from a bad [or awesome] fanfic.)

44: Does your character think more with their heart or their brain?

45: What is your character’s most recent or frequent nightmare?

46: What opinion does your character have on [CERTAIN ESTABLISHED GROUPS/AUTHORITIES IN THE GAME WORLD]? (Dragonmarked Houses, royal crown, etc.)

47: How did your character spend their childhood? Where did they grow up/who were their childhood friends?

48: What aspect of your character’s future are they most curious about? (If they could know one thing about the future, what would it be?)

49: What colors are associated with your character?

50: Who in the party would your character prioritize rescuing, in dire circumstances?

51: Is your character the most swayed by ethos, pathos, or logos?

52: If your character was granted a single use of Wish, what would they use it for?

53: What is your character’s favorite spell? If they don’t use spells: what is their favorite personal weapon/combat maneuver/skill/etc.?

54: How does your character feel about keeping secrets from the rest of the party?

55: What type of creature in the world is your character the most intrigued by?

56: When they were a child, what did your character want to be, or think they were going to be, when they grew up?

57: The player character to your left admits that they’re passionately in love with your character. How would your character respond?

58: If somebody (an NPC, someone from their backstory, etc.) your character trusts/loves asked your character to do something against the party’s best interest, who would they side with?

59: Does your character value their own best interest more than the party’s?

60: What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group?

61: How does your character imagine the way they will die?

62: What is your character’s greatest achievement?

63: Is your character willing to risk the well-being of others in order to achieve their goal?

64: What is your character’s opinion on killing others?

65: What is your character’s favorite food? Beverage?

66: How generous is your character? Especially to those they don’t know?

67: What is your character the most envious about, regarding anyone in the party?

68: The player character to your left and the player character to your right are both telling your character two different versions of the truth. Who does your character believe?

69: What is your character’s sexuality/relationship with sex?

70: What is your character’s biggest pet peeve?

71: Describe how your character feels about the party’s current situation/objective/etc.

72: Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret?

73: If your character knew that they were going to die in a month, how would they spend the rest of their life?

74: What makes your character feel safe?

75: If your character had the chance to rename the party/give the party a name, no questions asked, what would it be?

76: What memory does your character want to forget the most?

77: If your character had to multiclass into a class they currently aren’t the next time they level up, what would it be and what reason would they have for doing so?

78: What television/book/video game/etc. character would your character be best friends with? (Or: what media character is your character the most influenced by/similar to?

79: What unusual talents does your character possess?

80: How does your character feel about receiving/giving orders? Are they more of a leader, or a follower?

81: What does your character’s name represent to them? (Or: why as a player did you choose your character’s name?)

82: Is your character more of an introvert, or an extrovert?

83: How far is your character willing to go to pursue the “greater good”? Do they believe in a greater good at all?

84: What does your character want to be remembered by?

85: What would be your character’s major in college?

86: Does your character consider themselves a hero, villain, or something else?

87: What major arcana tarot card best represents your character?

88: Where does your character see themselves in 20 years?

89: What is your character’s relationship with magic? Are they scared of it, wish to know more about it, indifferent to it?

90: Who is your character’s biggest rival?

91: What is your character’s guiltiest pleasure?

92: What does your character hope for the afterlife?

93: Who in the party does your character trust the least?

94: What is your character’s biggest flaw?

95: How did your character learn the languages that they speak?

96: What is your character’s favorite school of magic/type of weaponry?

97: What is most important to your character: health, wealth, or happiness?

98: What advice would your character give to a younger version of themselves?

99: Are there any social or political issues your character feels strongly about?

100: What, currently, is your character the most curious about?

#prompts #rp prompts #for my yuke #so I can explore how I want to make her more #come onnnn #just ask #send me anything #this is for my FFCC characters for now #but I'll use it later #okay to cross games/time/space whatever #since I know most of ya'll know me for league stuff

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jahe · 4 years

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Finding You

It was already spring, the trees already shown their young leaves and with just a matter of days probably the flowers would bloom. The day was a lot warmer, Soyong was sitting in under the gazebo, eyes looking at the blue clear sky and one of her hand caressing her much protuded belly. Line of maids were standing by at her side, patiently waiting Jungjeon Mama.

Hongyeon looked at unsettled Mama worriedly, if she hadn't lost count it might be the 42 times Mamanim let some small sighs. She wondered what was Mamanim really thinking or even bothered her but she couldn't ask and let Mama sunk deeper to her thought.

"Mama, it has been hours since you were sitting there, Mama probably should go back to Daejojeon Hall since it is quite chilly here. It was Choi sanggung.

"Aniya, I am not yet done here."

"Mama, it is not good for you and your baby to sit long outside."

Soyong didn't respond.

"Mama, is there something bothering you?" Hongyeon finally asked, too impatient to know the truth.

Soyong finally turned her head to face Hongyeon, "off course," she answered with a weak smile.

"You know you can always told us," said Hongyeon.

"It is nothing big, I just feel empty recently maybe because the pregnancy. Anyway Choi sanggung is right, I should go back and rest."

Hongyeon ran hurriedly to assist Mama stood up and walked down. Not long after someone ran hurriedly over them, Soyong squinted her eyes to see who is it.

A person from King's chamber.

"Jungjeon Mama, you should come with me to King's chamber," she said.

"What happened? Is there something happened to Jeonha?" Soyong asked hurriedly and worriedly.

"Yes, Mama. Jeonha was found very sick in this early morning, Royal Physician already tended him but he said he was in a high fever and quite delirious. Jeonha was calling Mamanim in between, so Head Eunuch asked me to fetch you in case you want to come."

"Off course I should! Choi sanggung, let's go to King's chamber now!"

---

He was indeed looking rough, Soyong felt like all the blood in her veins were drained looking at him, she hurriedly came over to his husband side and touch his face. It was scorching hot.

"What is it?" she asked the Royal Physician.

"Mama, he is in high fever but I can't found other clue of what underlying problem from the pulse and blood rush, I think it is not something dire but still if the fever not tended it will make his body worsened."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"I already asked the royal maids here about what he had eaten night before, I don't think it was coming from food poisoning."

"It was probably something else. Head Eunuch, did you saw whether Jeonha had consume something outside his regular meal?"

"I don't think he did, he even not really ate a lot recently. But he was busier..." Head Eunuch trailled his answer but Soyong probably not really care because she already knew.

She knew Jeonha seemed so much busier these days, it was probably two weeks? Or more, she guessed, she kind of lost track because sometimes she was quite busy herself. Or better she made herself busy. It was so incruciating how it felt different with Jeonha recently.

Sometimes when they were together, Jeonha looked down a lot, like something weighing his mind, she did say he could share whatever bothering his mind but he answered nothing so Soyong couldn't pushed more about it.

"Mama, it is probably he was under a lot of stress by the account of Head Eunuch. I already ordered my pupil to make herbs to cooling down Jeonha's fever and regain his energy. I hope you are not worried too much."

Soyong turned herself to Royal Physician, "thank you for your effort, I will tend him myself."

"But Mama, you should rest with your condition," Choi sanggung interrupted.

"I know but I can't let him be, don't you think? Let me tend him right now and I promise I'll go back to rest tonight."

Choi sanggung only sighed silently,if that what Jungjeon Mama wanted then she should obey it. "Alright, Jungjeon Mama."

---

2 or 3 hours later, Jeonha's condition seemed much improved. His fever was decreased and he seemed calmer, in before he called her plenty of time in his sleep. Soyong was responding to each of his call, holding his hand close to her heart but seemed that didnt make him calmer first but he eventually did so.

Soyong sighed in relieved, she sit back and touched her belly again. It was so intense that she almost forgot she is pregnant if not because her protuding belly. She felt bad.

"I am sorry, my child," she apologize. "Thanks god your abamama make it."

Soyong relaxed a bit before tidying up the potion tools and tray before tidying Jeonha's blanket. She looked around after, she just realized it was quite a mess, books here and there so she tried to rise up herself and tidying up some books. Not until she took that navy blue colored book.

Queen's dictionary.

She smiled. Yes, she remembered.. Bonghwan memories imprinted well enough to hers, she remember what was in it even without have to open it. She remembered what Jeonha wrote and how it wasn't really what Bonghwan really mean.

She chuckled, as if she was experienced it first hand though herself didn't really understand all the modern terminologies. It made her wonder... ever since, how Bonghwan living right now. Hopefully he is good.

She opened the dictionary delicately, she knew it is Jeonha's very prized possession since he brought it here and there. Suddenly it disturbed her, ever since Bonghwan gone.. probably Jeonha never been able to add new term, right?

She put the book on the table absentmindedly, she quite hesitated to continue to open another page but she did. It was the latest page after some couple new words that Jeonha added. It was one word after some collumns.

"Bogoshipda," she incited. Suddenly she felt a pang in her heart as she progressed to open the next page, hoping that there is not another word there.

It was, 'neon nuguya?' that made Soyong felt like part of her is gone. Is it the thing that bothering Jeonha recently? Was this it that made him down in high fever? Why was it feel like the question directed at her? Was she scared?

The truth was, she is indeed felt restless ever since witnessing something different in the way Jeonha looked at her. In before Jeonha always said she was different, way too poised and formal, but she just brushed it off as a tease, since Jeonha talked about it lightly as if it was nothing.

Was that it? The thing that bothered both of them?

Was it because she couldn't come around to Jeonha about whom she shared the body with? Was it necessary to tell him? What would it be if she told him the truth? Was she scared because Jeonha will not like her as she is now compared to before? Was it wrong if she was being herself? Would it better if she mimick Bonghwan's attitude? No she can't, she definitely can't be that level rudeness.

She sighed in frustration, she felt like she gonna cry and lost herself again since she felt that Jeonha liked that version of her more. She closed the book and turned herself back to his side. She pondered while watching Jeonha. While his fever is gone already and he peacefully sleep, now she was the one who striked by the storm. She sighed as she looked at Jeonha. She caressed his face slowly. "Is that the thing that made you like this, Jeonha? Do you miss him?"

She sunk deep into hert thought, something crossed her mind but she laughed it off. "That's impossible, Kim Soyong. You never can called him back again, that so foolish of you." She sighed then.

"I am sorry, Jeonha." Is the last thing she said before retreating to her own chamber.

---

Wonbeom opened his eyes slowly, felt sores from all his body it made him uncomfortable. He looked around and found Head Eunuch was sitting at his side.

"Jeonha! You are awake! Let me fetch Royal Physician for you," he then rushed to the maids outside to fetch the Royal Physician.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling weak and kind of powerless. He embarassed that he abused his body to the point of him passed out just because so many things was bothering him. Well not so much aside the court affairs, it was just that one thing. One thing that bothered him so much that it kind of bleed his heart and mind, that made him questioned many things.

The Royal Physician finally came and directly checking his condition. He sighed in relieve. "All is well, Jeonha. You just need couple of hours to regain your energy. Please do eat a lot to replenish it."

"I understand," Wonbeom replied weakly.

"Then I should get back. Please be well, Jeonha." The Royal Physician retreated back.

"How do you feel, Jeonha?" Head Eunuch asked while helping him to sit back.

"A lot better but still dizzy. What had happened after I passed out?" Wonbeom asked.

"Not so much, there was no problem at the court so don't worry. Also, Jungjeon Mama was here yesterday, tending you all morning and got back to her own chamber to rest."

He stared at his eunuch, "She came?"

"Yes, Jeonha. I was the one who asked Mama to came since you always called her in your sleep."

He did? Off course he did, after all it was her that bothering him so much.

"Do you want me to fetch Mama here?"

"No, no, not now. Let her rest for now, I will come to her this afternoon if I feel better."

"Then I'll go fetch your breakfast."

"Alright."

After Head Eunuch walked away, he laid back on his bed and thinking. Actually before he passed out he almost come to conclusion himself, he was going to met her and talk everything but he collapsed. "I hope she rest well today, and I should be better as soon as possible before come to her," he said before shutting down his eyes.

---

It was a little late from his prediction, it was already dusk when Wonbeom finally gathered himself. He wondered if the time is ideal if he gonna meet her, but he has to.

The Queen dictionary was on his hand when he walked away from his room, announced Head Eunuch and the maids that he gonna come to Queen's Chamber. He was in rush after he collected himself back from the bed and found his room tidied up but the Queen dictionary book was on the table, before it was on the floor, it meant that she read it. She read what he wrote in the end.

He was in front of her chamber when he looked suspiciously at Choi sanggung who paced back and forth with restless Hongyeon at the side. The Eunuch announced King is coming and it made both of them panicked.

"Jeonha!" said Choi sanggung, a bit louder than she intended to do so.

"I wonder," he said, "... something happened?" he asked. Choi sanggung and Hongyeon looked at each other.

"Jungjeon mama is not inside," Hongyeon said.

"Is she gone somewhere?" Wonbeom asked worriedly, this should not be that.

"She was still here at the morning, she said she lost one of her ring and told us to search the gazebo and when we were back she wasn't here. We searched around and couldn't find her, we lost her. We... I am so-sorry, Jeonha."

His heart dropped after hearing what Hongyeon said, he had predicted it but unfortunately he was late, she was gone before he could met her. But perhaps it was not like what he thought about right? She didn't go to the lake, again, right? Oh god, please not. He felt his legs became weaker but he gathered his power to ran off to the lake.

"Jeonha, i think Mama is not that careless to get drown into the lake," Head Eunuch said when they were arrived at the site.

"I hope so, since she carried a baby, she shouldn't that selfish, right?" Wonbeom tried to convinced himself while darting his gaze into the lake. Part of him sure that she didn't jump but part of him wanted to dived into it. But before he tried to move, he heard Yeongpyeong-gun called him from afar.

"Jeonha!" he ran faster to Wonbeom, "What are you doing here? I was seeking you at the Seonjeongjon Hall but you weren't there."

"I am searching for Jungjeon, she was gone without announcement," he said worriedly and looked back to the lake.

"That is..." the Prince trailed away, ".. I am sorry, Jeonha. Jungjeon Mama asked me to escourt her to Jaganim* place, I couldn't refuse as she pleaded me so bad."

"Jaganim? Jo Hwajin?" Wonbeom asked and Yeongpyeong-gun nodded. He exhaled a big relieved sigh upon hearing what really happened. "I was so scared," he said, a bit disoriented but Yeongpyong-gun caught him before he collapsed to the ground.

"What is she doing there?" Wonbeom asked.

"She didn't tell and I didn't dare asking, but for sure she is safe there," Yeongpyeong-gun answered. "Mama asked me to come back and relay her message to you, that she said sorry for not asking permission and will deal later with any punishment when she is back."

Wonbeom snorted, "What punishment..." he trailed. "Alright, it is relieving that she is all okay. Did she told you how long she will be there?"

"Mama only said that she won't be long. She only needs to confirm one or two thing, that's what she said."

He sighed again and wonder what kind of thing that Jungjeon need to confirm with Hwajin.

"Let's keep it to ourselves for now, don't make it big as I don't want the court hear this. Let's go back to Seonjeongjeon."

---

"Mama!" Hwajin ran off closer when she saw Jungjeon Mama was standing in front of her house along with Yeongpyeong-gun at her side.

"Why you come to my place? What happened?" she asked Yeongpyeong-gun in confuse, worried if there was another thing happened in the palace.

"Don't worry, Eui-bin, there is nothing happened at the palace. I just want to meet you." Soyong said.

"Me?" Hwajin felt more confuse. "In what occasion?"

"I need to have a heart to heart talk, is that okay with you?"

Hwajin felt so flabbergasted, this wasn't feel like the first time but still felt like a first time. "I am all well for that, Mama."

"Alright then. Yeongpyeong-gun, can you go back and tell Jeonha, I wouldn't be able to comeback this night and I'll deal with everything later when I back."

Yeongpyeong-gun couldn't react at first but what could he do in this moment? "Alright, Jungjeon Mama."

"Thank you very much, and I am so sorry to bother you with this."

"That's alright. Then I have to go back. Please be safe."

"Don't worry, Yeongpyeong-gun, I'll take care Jungjeon Mama here," Hwajin interrupted. Then after some nod, Yeongpyeong-gun walked away. "Mama, I hope you don't mind to be in my humble house."

"It doesn't matter of the place, don't worry."

"Then let's come in," Hwajin said and escorted Soyong inside.

Both sat inside the main room of the house, Soyong scanned around, "This house looks decent enough," she said and faced Hwajin who sat in front of her. "How are you, Eui-bin?"

"Don't call me that, Mama. I am not a consort anymore."

"Then... is that okay if I called your name? Hwajin?"

Hwajin let a contented smile upon hearing her name, "It sounds good."

"If that so, you can call me Soyong," she proposed and it surprised Hwajin.

"I don't dare to do that," Hwajin refused.

"Please? We are not at the palace and I am here to meet you as woman to woman or as a friend, wasn't that we are back when we are children?" Soyong said.

Hwajin looked down quite a while. "But our history..."

"That's not relevant now because you are the only one I can think about, if I can't meet you I probably will go crazy."

Hwajin dumbfounded with Soyong's words and then she laughed. "As expected."

"What expected?" Soyong asked.

"It's nothing. So why are you here, Mama--i mean, Soyong?" Hwajin stuttered.

Soyong inhaled quite a bit before she spoke, "I want to learn how to be brave."

Hwajin went blank, "Pardon?"

"I refer to your confession to Jeonha a while back," Soyong trailed. Hwajin just oooh-ed. "I need to learn from you."

There were so many questions popped in Hwajin's head but there was none that she could ask so she just simply answer Soyong's question instead.

"I don't know if I am the best person you ask. I am not sure that was called a bravery or not, I just.. I just feel I have to challenge myself. My worst self at that, so I won't crumble into a person that I don't even know anymore," Hwajin said. "And I had enough to living under pretentious for years."

Both dropped in silent. Soyong with her own mind and Hwajin looked right into Soyong.

"I wonder why you asked that when you are the one that taught me that." said Hwajin.

Soyong furrowed to recall what Hwajin meaned.

"The lake, the day when you confronted me to the hell and back?" Hwajin pressed more.

Soyong remembered. "That.. that wasn't me."

"That wasn't you?" Hwajin repeated.

Soyong grinned, "Yes, ever since I came back from death I wasn't myself. It... it was someone else." Hwajin furrowed in confusement. "Until recently I wasn't really there, I was hidden right here," Soyong pointed at her heart, "and all the things done in the Palace after I became Queen, that wasn't me. The one who turned Palace upside down wasn't really me. The one who Jeonha infatuated and love with wasn't really me."

Hwajin taken aback but then patched Soyong's word one by one still couldn't grasp the whole meaning.

"Did you... being possessed?" Hwajin asked.

"No... I..." Soyong closed both her eyes and sighed. "It was a soul of a man I met when I was in the verge of death. I brought him back to life inside of me to help me... to help me cope with everything."

"So... two souls inside your body?" Hwajin tried to grasp what she said, a bit disbelieved to said that.

"Yes."

"And now?"

"He had long gone already. The last time I feel him inside was when the coup happened then I came out. I remember all the things that happened, word by word, touch by touch, but I wasn't in control. I think I only existed as memories, I was hidden all along."

Hwajin just kept in silent, trying to digest every unbelieveable facts that Soyong spoke about.

"So, what are you scared off now? Since you are now in total control of your life and body?"

"Because... I think Jeonha like that version of me. Actually, I felt a bit distant recently, I think he realized I wasn't that previous Queen."

"So you wanted to ask but you don't have courage?"

"Yes. That's why I ask you how."

Hwajin smiled. "Truthfully I still in disbelieve, and may I say that was nonsense. But you say you were hidden right in that place," Hwajin pointed at Soyong's heart, "when the fact that bravery and many good things also come right from that place."

Soyong dropped in silent.

"I think that was still you, you just don't want to acknowledge it." Hwajin continued, Soyong quite disagree but she didnt said. "Or if you really sure it was someone else and that person that Jeonha like, then you can just ask him."

"That's why it is not easy," Soyong mumbled.

"There is nothing you should worry, Jeonha is a forgiving person unless it is his real political enemy." Hwajin thrusted her hands to take Soyong's to make her less worried, "Jeonha loves you, I know, I can guarantee that." She smiled. And Soyong smiled.

"Thank you, Hwajin."

"If anything, you can come here if Jeonha deposed you," she teased. And that was the first time of the week that Soyong laughed.

---

It was already afternoon and there was no sign that Jungjeon already back. Jeonha paced back and forth inside Daejojeon Hall, waiting patiently (but it almost ran out) for her to comeback.

It was the maids greeting that made him stop pacing and ran out to get her. Just when he saw her figure he ran faster to hug her.

"Jeon... Jeonha?" she asked in surprise.

"I miss you,” he said, Soyong became more flustered. “Don’t try to be gone without telling me anymore!” he continued. Soyong let out a weak smile.

“I am sorry, Jeonha, but I really need to be away for a while,” she answered. Wonbeom let go of his hug.

“I think we have something to talk about.”

“Yes, we are. So let’s go inside.”

It was a custom that King always sit on the main seat and whoever under him will sit in front but Wonbeom pulled Soyong to sit at his side. Like he was really impatient or maybe he just being himself

“First of all,” Wonbeom started while still holding Soyong’s hand, “I would like to say sorry. I am sorry to left you out from the picture recently, I am sorry to make you worried when I passed out. I have my reason and I would like to tell you why but I passed out.”

Soyong couldn’t react, she didn’t expect something like this. First, she thought Jeonha would still try to recover or maybe he would still avoiding her. Second, she hasn’t ready yet, her plan was to come to him later of this day or tomorrow morning, so it kind of beat her to it.

“The reason I was avoiding you because I was in great confuse, which I didn’t even know why I confuse at the first time. Then I found it, because I think you are quite different with whom you are months ago… the one that make me realize I was wrong about you, the one that shook my heart, the one that slapped me to actual fact with her brazen but very true words. I wonder, I wonder if you are not the same person as before and my doubts become more apparent after I remember, you ever said that you were not the same person, a man instead, modern man. How true is that, Jungjeon?”

Soyong tried to hold her tears, she was going to say a thing but Wonbeom beat her again.

“I realized then it might be true. You were a different person, the one who possessed so many informations about the future, so I think maybe I love that person? But no, when I look at you, the now you I still feel the same way. I still love you, I still care of you, and when you were gone I was thinking if you were jumped into the lake again. If you did, I probably can’t continue to live normally. Whatever inside of you, you still the person that still and will have my heart.”

“Jeonha…” Soyong whispered his name, cheek already wet from tears that she couldn’t hold back when she listen to all of his words.

“I’ve loved you Soyong, ever since before you are a Queen.”

Soyong gasped. What?

“And I swear I will love whatever version you will be.” He kissed her hand.

She finally couldn’t contained herself, she cried. A lot, that Wonbeom suddenly panic… if he said something wrong, but he let her to cry first.

“His name is Jang Bonghwan,” Soyong finally said after calming herself down. “And it was true, he was inside of this body after I tried to suicide.”

Wonbeom was quite taken aback but not really surprised as he already prepared for such answer.

“I was so scared to live but It was scarier to die, he was there and I was so desperate to came back but I also didn’t want to be alone in the Palace so I brought him back with me.”

“So I really fall in love… with a man?” Wonbeom asked in utter shock.

“Maybe?” Soyong answered.

“No way.”

“You said it doesn’t matter what inside me?” she teased and it only made Wonbeom laughed in nervousness.

“I kind of dislike the idea,” he said.

“I was going to confess to you about this actually, but I couldn’t gather my courage to start the conversation since I am scared that you will hate me for that. And I am still that coward Soyong.”

Wonbeom dropped in silent, he couldn’t find anything to console her.

“So I seek Hwajin and talked to her. I also told her about my encounter with another soul, she couldn’t buy that but still her insight was convinced me a lot.”

Wonbeom smiled, “What she said?”

“That I need to ask Jeonha directly about which one you love more, and she is right, you still love me despite everything.” Soyong answered shyly.

Wonbeom beamed a big smile, “That’s our Hwajin.”

“So,” Soyong continued, “when you start loving this person again?” she asked while putting both of her hands on her chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you like me before but then you hate me for being Andong Kim clan, so when you start loving me again?”

“Ever since you save me and Hwajin from Daewang Daebi Mama plot, I started to realized I still like you. And I love you since you were waking up from your vegetative state.”

“Will you still love me then?”

“Off course, I’ve said that before, right?”

“I just want to make sure since I never can be the personality you’ve used to like, I just want to be myself.”

“Then let you become yourself. You aren’t less charming than the guy inside you.”

Soyong suddenly brought her hands up to Wonbeom’s face and then she kissed him. He was in shock.

“Wait, is this the guy speaking or?”

Soyong slapped him, “He was long gone, Jeonha! It is me and that was me too.”

“Oh my, so… so the tigres was… you?” he gasped. Soyong slapped him more in embarrassment. “And you said you are a coward?”

“Stop it!”

“No way I would do that or we wouldn’t have Aheung-ie.”

“Aheung-ie?”

“Yes our fetus baby name.”

“Jeonha!”

---

Their banters and giggles were quite loud that even Choi sanggung who stood outside the room able to heard it. It brought a smile to her face and sighed in relieve.

All is well. All will be well.

Wonbeom put his brush away and looked down to the page of Queen’s Dictionary book. Some fresh ink decorated the last line of the page.

Jang Bonghwan,

Anti-fan, our guardian angel.

Without you I couldn’t find back the person I love, without you I couldn’t win this internal war. I hope you live well in future, or I hope with our efforts the future will be much better. I will try my best to keep our plan intact.

I will cherish our moment together. If it is possible, I hope we can meet in our next life. As friends, as brothers, or even as lovers.

---

#fanfiction #mr. queen #철인왕후 #sorry for my bad grammars #english is not my native language #i just want to let it go #since i love sobong #and the show didn't do justice for sobong's ending #i need more closure of bonghwan and soyong and cheoljong #and proper farewell since bonghwan really treasure choi sanggung and hongyeon #and i need closure of soyong and hwajin #btw it is canon #i don't want to undervalued soyong existence

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