#I’m sorry for neglecting you two I still love you dearly I promise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mai-sau · 3 years

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Prompt "give me attention" for kidnap family?

"haha, im gonna take it easy with prompts this time around, only a few hundred words -" cue spongebob title card "2.3k words later"

seriously tho thank you for the prompt!! (and sorry about the wait!) i had fun working on this one bc well i love any chance to write about this lil family of murderers and tiny bois :') hope u enjoy!!

Prompt: "Give me attention."

“Nelyo.”

“Ne-”

Thump. Maedhros slammed his book shut. A puff of dust wheezed out from the crusty pages; Maglor could make out the swirl of particles flying about in the dim shafts of sunlight peeking into his brother’s study from windows that he was sure were clean at some point in their existence.

Said brother tossed a glare over to Maglor from the other side of his desk.

“You’re allowed to be here. Quietly.” Maedhros threw a pointed look towards the abandoned scroll in Maglor’s hands.

“But I’m so very lonely, Nelyo,” Maglor pouted, and dropped the scroll on the desk. The parchment rolled out towards Maedhros, whose face was fast approaching the same shade as his hair. “Besides, I’ve already taken care of all my correspondence for the day. Nothing much else to do, really, but seek out the company of my darling brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Maedhros grit out, rubbing his temple in terse little circles. Which one of them he was reminding Maglor couldn’t say.

“Only by a few years,” Maglor teased. He let the corners of his lip curl up - he was well aware this made him look like “a cat about to feast on the fattest saucer of milk it’s ever conned” according to his brother, and that was why he did it.

On top of that dusty old book, Maedhros’ fingers twitched. Got you.

“Come on, Nelyo,” he whined. “Give me attentiooon.”

Maedhros threw him a positively hateful look, but Maglor knew he wouldn’t throw him out just yet. By this point, Maglor liked to think he knew his brother well enough.

There were some things he didn’t, of course, and this was fine. When his brother would wake and traipse out to the courtyard in the dead of night, staring at the moon hungrily for hours and hours as if he would never glimpse its light amidst the pitch dark again; when one of the many elves around Amon Ereb would do something wrong - not when one of their craftsmen made the same excited little exclamation as Curvo used to, or hunters fletched their arrows just how Tyelko did, Maglor understood these, at least - but a request phrased too sweetly, an abrupt movement, a smile too wide, and Maedhros’ throat would tighten, his words clipped, before excusing himself to go lock himself in his room for an hour, or two, or three: these parts of his brother Maglor may never know.

But he knew much, or at least enough. A few months after they’d taken in the twins, Maglor had just finished mopping an explosion of jam on the dining floor and sweeping up the shards of what was once the hefty jar that contained it. He’d first gently let Elros know that if they wanted food, they need only ask; he’d then let him know that no, of course they wouldn’t cast him out for breaking the jam jar, with no small amount of tears or internal panic on either end of that conversation.

By the time Maglor slunk into Maedhros’ study that evening to go over reports from around the fortress, he was maybe a bit tired. When Maedhros told him to wait for just a few minutes while he wrapped something or other up, Maglor might’ve let slip a touch of petulance and no small amount of theatrics into his voice when he asked when his dear Nelyo could spare just a moment for his poor baby brother, simply wilting away from the neglect.

Maglor had frozen, fearful of what his second-most severe brother would have to say in response to - well, whining. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself do so. Oh, he’d been quite the brat in Valinor, and used to be quite proud of that fact, thank you. Each and every one of his brothers’ last nerves practically had his name on it. But it seemed ever since they arrived here, it was as if they simply couldn’t afford the waste of time. Ribbing was a favored pastime of his in Aman, but Beleriand offered no such frivolities.

But living with the twins, putting on playful words and coaxing laughter from two young faces that Maglor couldn’t bear to see two seconds from breaking anymore, had apparently loosened his discipline.

He’d thought Maedhros would treat him to one of his signature frowns, barking at him that neither of them had time to make things any harder for each other, but instead he’d… laughed. Just the slightest huff of air, yes, but a laugh nonetheless. Maglor hadn’t heard his brother laugh since…

Well, if anything, he was honoring his cousin’s memory.

So Maglor experimented over the years, let a few more teases and whines slip into his day-to-day interactions with Maedhros. His brother had since mustered a valiant effort to act annoyed, but Maglor could still catch a muffled chuckle or smothered grin here and there.

So. All in all, he’s sure he knows his brother pretty well at this point, and Maedhros was not troubled (bad), just bothered (good).

Which, of course, meant they could continue to play; Maglor would show no mercy.

“Please? Please, please? Just a smidgen of tender love and care from my dearly beloved big brother?” Maglor asked, eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned over the desk. His hair, inky black, spilled all over his scroll.

Maedhros’ nose twitched. His right ear flicked. Oh yes. He was close to a chuckle now, he could tell. His dearly beloved big brother stood no fucking chance.

“Oh dear Eru, let my brother pay attention to - MANWË’S TITS!” Maglor shrieked, springing up from his seat after spotting a dark shadow peeking through the window.

His brother whirled around. Quick as a viper, his hand darted out to grasp the hilt of his sword. Despite this, Maglor could hear a choked noise he was more than halfway certain was the chuckle he had so desperately hunted. Oh well.

A chubby face stared right back at them, eyes round as saucers. Wait, make that two faces.

Both Maglor and Maedhros sagged with relief.

“Elros, can you please come in?” Maglor croaked, feeling five feet to the left of his physical body. “You too, Elrond.”

The two of them nodded bashfully, heads bobbing as they fumbled over to the glass. And they were… flapping. Each twin sported small brown wings on their back, looking much like the falcons Tyelko used to play with as a child. Maglor supposed, thinking of a great bird soaring away over the sea with light itself clutched tight in its talons, maybe they should have expected this one in particular.

Elros pushed once, twice at the windows, tiny arms straining against the pane and looking more panicked by the second. Behind him, Elrond simply pointed to the - oh, the window latch. Yes.

Maedhros stood up and flicked it open. Elros came tumbling through, nearly bashing his skull on the desk before Maedhros caught him midair.

Elrond flew in smoothly and landed on Maglor’s empty chair, wings neatly folding in. Maedhros dumped Elros on his own chair. His wing smacked Maedhros’ arm by mistake.

“We talked about this. No new shapeshifting without me or Maglor there,” Maedhros said, fixing each of them with a stern look.

Both the twins looked down at this. Elrond wrung his little wrists.

“We’re sorry!” Elros burst out, tears welling up in his eyes. “We won’t do it again, promise!”

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart,” Maglor told him.

“And the time before that,” Maedhros grumbled.

“What we’re saying, dear, is that we understand that you’re sorry. But keeping your word has to take first priority,” Maglor explained softly.

Maedhros coughed.

“Or, er, not doing it again,” Maglor corrected. “That’s what counts.”

“We understand,” Elros sniffled. “It’s just, we wanted to hear, but you weren’t there to check with, because well, you were here, and, well, um, yes -”

“Bringing us to the next point of order,” Maedhros rumbled. He raised a brow at both of them. “Eavesdropping. We have also been over this.”

Oh dear. Elros looked like he was about to drown in a puddle of tears. Maglor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades soothingly, careful of the new feathery appendages.

Thankfully, Elrond stepped in. “We remember, it’s not nice because we like to be in private sometimes and it’s not fair for us to not let other people be too,” he recited shyly. “Um, we just… we know you both meet up a lot like this, and we know it's important… but… um…” His lip trembled; his voice cracked. “Do you... talk about us? Do you not want us to hear because it’s bad? Because we can do better!” He promised quickly, eyes wide and wet. “Elros is getting really good at his music lessons, he’s practicing a lot! And I’m working on my writing lessons every day!”

Something in Maglor’s chest twisted. “Oh, honey, no -”

But his brother beat him to the punch. Striding out from behind the desk, he knelt down in front of Elrond. “Can I hug you?” he asked very quietly.

Elrond bit his lip and nodded. Without another word, Maedhros wrapped him up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, Maedhros’ hulking frame wrapped around Elrond’s body, like a drape of russet locks, leather and rich furs. When his brother finally pulled away, he gave a heavy look to both children.

“We will never give you away because you’re not good enough. Alright? You will always be good enough. Both of you,” he told them. He reached out and covered Elrond’s tiny hand with his own, fingers curling around and intertwining. “And not because you’re caught up on your lessons, or do what we say.”

“Though those are certainly nice,” Maglor added. He flashed them a teasing grin before taking care to soften his expression once more, and laid a gentle hand on Elros’ shoulder. “You will always have our love. And nothing, not even the worst jam spill, or missed harp lesson - don’t think I didn’t notice that last week, dearest - can ever reach in and steal it. It is your’s by blood and birthright.”

“Love you,” Elros sniffled. Elrond echoed him, voice no less wobbly.

Maedhros gifted them with a small smile. “Love you both, starlights.”

“And -” Elros started, hiccuped, and continued. “And same for me too. Nothing can change that! I’ll always love you two.”

Maglor felt a pang of sickly guilt invade his chest and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maedhros stiffen.

“Me too,” Elrond said, voice suddenly clear. Maglor glanced at him and met a gaze that seemed years ahead of its time; he froze, rooted to the spot. “We’ll always love you no matter what you do.”

“Well -” Maglor started. “That’s…”

“No need to worry about us,” Maedhros recovered quickly, waving his hand. “Now then, it’s nearing bedtime, hm?”

“But wait!” Elros cried. “What were you two talking about then?”

“Yes! We saw Atya going like this,” Elrond clasped his pudgy hands together and shook them. “And his voice sounded all funny, and then he prayed to Eru about Atar paying more attention to Manwe’s t-”

“ALRIGHT!” Maglor yelped, clapping his hands. His face must’ve been steaming, his cheeks were burning, oh stars - “Bedtime!”

“But we want to know why you were saying all those funny things,” Elros complained loudly. His voice slipped into a high pitched whine, dripping with petulance. “Nelyo, Nelyo, give me attentioooon -”

“I do not sound like that!” Maglor gasped, scooping up a giggling Elrond to be carried to bed.

“I do not sound like that!”

Maglor turned around, gaping. That was not Elros’ voice.

Maedhros stared back. His eyes glinted with mirth and the most shit-eating grin curled his lips. In his arms was a starstruck Elros, who looked no less shocked than if the clouds themselves had just burst into song and danced a lively jig. And quite frankly, Maglor would be less surprised.

Maedhros dealt him one last smirk before twirling on his heel and walking out of the room to go deposit one elfling in his bed. Maglor still had the other, who poked his cheek.

“Atya? Are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Maglor felt a smile grow across his face. His eyes stung with tears. He quickly wiped them with his sleeve before they could fatten and spill over his cheeks and probably make Elrond worry even more.

“Wonderful, dear.” He frowned for a second, considering. “Although I think there is a dreadful amount of mockery in my future.”

He looked down at Elrond. His son merely tilted his round head, offering a blank look. Maglor sighed happily. “But that’s okay.”

XXX

In time, it became clear that there was no need to worry about the looming threat of brotherly teasing paid back in full; Maedhros may have been looser with his laughter, but even this was a rare occasion still. Maglor did not mind, for any time he saw his brother’s eyes alight with anything other than fatal passion was a gift.

The true threat that lurked within Amon Ereb made itself known eventually.

Two weeks later, Maglor was scurrying to meet up with one of the smiths to discuss pending repairs but stopped short in front of a small figure in the courtyard blocking his path.

“Not now, sweetheart, Atya’s very busy,” Maglor told Elrond, harried, ready to flag down someone on the way to attend to whatever his son needed.

And then it happened. Elrond’s face crumpled just so. His eyes widened: big, round, and wet. His lip wobbled. When he opened his mouth, his voice took on a tone so absolutely, horribly pitiful that Maglor half-suspected the echo of Lúthien herself lived in his words.

“Please, Atya,” he begged, every word a death sentence. “Give me attentiooon.”

Oh Eru, Maglor despaired, even as he opened his arms for an evil little elfling to leap into, repairs forgotten. I’ve made a monster.

#this was also my first go at writing more humor #but the hurt/comfort managed to sneak in #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #my writing #writing prompts #fic #jaz-the-bard

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papers4me · 3 years

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Fruits Basket, SE03, Ep3

This ep is exactly like se02, ep 24, meaning it was divided clearly into two parts. While the graduation theme unties the two parts, you can point things out exactly like ep,24:

1st part : Machi’s story= the important part.

2nd part: scattered parts here & there that concern yuki, ep, 24 his interactions with akito, here his interactions with Motoko).

plus, an ep cliff hanger: (e, 24 the dvd given to kureno, here, Isuzu’s mysterious fate).

it is exactly the same even a small kyo/tohru moment!. School graduation instead of the zodiac’s new year gathering.

Really awkward pacing, but that’s furuba, we celebrate when they DO connect dots for once! lets talk abt the REAL ep: MACHI.

-Machi’s awkward presence:

Although I love Machi, I’ve voiced my concerns abt her character in Furuba:

It seemed that Machi was solely created to be a step in yuki’s success journey more than a character on her own right. After getting motherly love (tohru) leaving the nest, Yuki needed friendship (kakeru), then as an independent man, he needs romantic love: (Machi). This is all fine initially but I was yearning for more individuality for Machi as a character. All furuba characters were given space to be unique including minor characters like Motoko who narrated her own story each time she’s on screen & we lived it with her within two seasons & a number of eps.

However, Machi’s background was introduced thro her brother’s exposition in se02 & that moment was a yuki/ kakeru bonding moment.

Thro kakeru’s exposition we learned how similar yuki & machi are (the parental neglect, high expectations, cold sibling relationship, Big brother saves himself by himself, big brother pushing for redemption & the younger sibling’s still trapped silently ). While that makes for romantic appeal between the two which makes the writer’s job easier, it steals from Machi individuality.

Then her part in ep, 24 was shown & I was given hope for Machi’s individuality as her own inner voice spoke volumes abt her as a person away from yuki (romantic interest) or Kakeru (big brother). Having a lot of screen time, while can make a character more believable to the audience, is never a factor in character’s depth nor individual worth. Heck! kyo (part of the main trio & the main character’s love interest) has only ONE ep in se02 to explore his issues & by far it is my fave ep in se02 as it established kyo’s trauma, psyche, mental issues & emotional baggage better than I could ever imagine! You can DO WONDERS with little time if you knew what to do. That’s what happened with Machi this ep (half ep).

-Machi’s shines! (trauma & romance):

I was so relieved to learn that altho both Machi & yuki despised perfection as it suffocated them, the writer (thankfully) went abt a different approach with Machi. Unlike Yuki who went silent cuz he felt his voice didn’t matter as he was used as a tool, Machi went silent cuz she was was NOT needed, & not only discarded but painted as WRONG. If you admit that raising me this way is wrong, then what does this make me? What should I do with myself? I’m wrong! boring, a failure, & a presumed killer!! all while I was absolutely doing my best! all while I was having good intentions! It is devastating but It makes Machi real. A character on her own right with her own trauma, struggle, pain & outlook on life. Although, the writer made the whole yuki/Machi meeting orchestrated by Kakeru to quickly make the two siblings one step closer, it worked cuz kakeru chose to not interfere after setting the scene. He played a subtle mach maker & tried to find happiness for his sister silently. Kakeruy is yuki’s best buddy & Machi becoming the girlfriend, the trio will have to hang out more which will slowly but surely warm Machi towards Kakeru. While the flat visit is the part where Machi open the lid to Yuki with a spark of romance at the end, the chalk scene is the romantic part! Not only did Yuki noticed her panic & saved her by breaking a piece of chalk, she secretly remembered his promise! “ lets make footprints on the snow”. The snow that was another source of anxiety attack, is now sth she looks forward to & prays for! Truly romantic!!! Well-done writer.

Side Notes:

I know furuba is shoujo & it’s abt love, but C’mon! where did Nao/ Motoko come from??!! XDD Who is left without love interest? Kyo’s rejected fangirl loved by one of kyo’s buddies? The maids in love with Akito? Momiji? Who does Kimi love besides money? XD

Yuki once observed that kyo makes tohru happy with small things, Today he did the same! A broken piece of chalk.

Yuki/ Machi romantic scenes contrast Yuki/ tohru forced romantic scene at the earlier seasons. There is no lame cringy lines like “ I’ll kidnap you & go to a vacation” or kissing a ribbon. There is NO acting or pretentious lines. Here a piece of chalk did the trick, an understanding of her tears & a head pat, a promise to walk on snow together! Congratulations Yuki, You made it into romantic boyfriends category! XD. also, good writing!

The Bra scene is the real comedy in the ep.

Arisa’s “ kyon, we won’t forgive you if you hurt tohru” is gold cuz kyo WILL. When it’s time to confess he knew kyoko & she HATES him & doesn’t forgive him, tohru would be hurt! Even if she wasn’t in love with kyo!!! Knowing your beloved’s last words were hateful is painful!! Add to this that tohru loves kyo & would be struggling between forgiving him or not!! Add to this that kyo might NOT want to be forgiven!!

“ I won’t forgive you”. kyo’s haunting reminder that he’s unforgivable is now shared by kyoko, yuki, Hana & Arisa!!

look, you might argue that furuba’s romantic writing might be a bit awkward with all sorts of romantic couples, age gaps, the need for everybody to be in love one way or the other & so on, but the traumatic behavioral writing is the best!!!!! I was never disappointed with how Takaya write abused traumatized children’s behavior. One of my fave scenes is yuki/ kyo in the stairs in se02 where kyo lashed out on yuki & yuki was over it. While that scene was rightfully celebrated for yuki’s triumphant attitude as he got over his trauma, I love it for the realistic trauma filled attitude of kyo, all charged with kyoko’s flashback! He’s in deep & he’s all by himself! Kyo will hurt tohru cuz he loves her just like how kazuma hurt him by forcefully taking his bracelet cuz he loves him. Kyo will be thinking it is for the best, who would want to be with someone that kyoko of all ppl hates!

I’ll tolerate all the weird love couples in furuba, but the moment trauma is written weakly I’ll drop the show. There is NO way, kyo will confess kyoko’s lines then go “sorry abt that tohru, we’re good?”

Back to Machi, I really hope that her trauma isn’t merely wrapped up cuz yuki loved her. Furuba was never abt love heals, it is abt love helps. We might not see more of her trauma for reasons of space, or not related to the current plot lines, but I really hope we hear her talk abt herself with yuki even few lines. Although, I feel that the focus now will be on setting her for yuki’s next stage in character development: honesty in the love confession. He’ll tell her abt the curse as the trailer hinted at. That’s their first love life struggle. But if I were to take a guess, it will be dealt with quickly like her trauma. She loves yuki dearly & as long as he walks with her in snow (human or rat, lol), it’s all good. <3

Hior’s mom is love.

Kagura’s new style is love! she isn’t dressed overly cutely anymore, but had a more comfortably style & I love her hair! also her friendship with Isuzu! <3. I wish Isuzu would really know there are ppl worried abt her in her life. Haru isn’t the only one.

Akito put Isuzu in the cat room, didn’t she? The place she left is similar to the place young Kazum wandered to in se01, ep25. & those scissors....

I never thought that the mere sight of shigure’s face will disgust me. XD. I still find him so intriguing, but yeah need time to get over the fact that he slept with Ren & counted it even with Akito, then slept with Akito afterwards! EWWW! so disgusting & I’m here to see this drama escalate!

Yuki / Machi moment was interrupted! XD It’s not fun when it happened to you, yuki? XD.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #sick paper #final season

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asian-hero · 4 years

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You are literally the best at writing angst, your fics make me feel some typa way. Can I request a todoroki shoto fic where him and reader are dating and he’s a prohero and she’s a doctor. And shoto is absent a lot bc of work and s/o gets sad bc she feels the relationship is 1sided. They fight bc shoto prioritizes hero-ing, & rder is like “but I save lives too”. They get “close” to splitting, but they makeup somehow. Thank you!!!!!!!

A/N: You think you can get away with breaking my heart just because you complimented me on my writing? 😤 (but in all seriousness, thank you for the compliment!)

You guys know you can request fluffy shit too, right?

Summary: You knew that you and Shouto came from different worlds, and while both of your jobs helped to save people, that didn’t mean that the two of you necessarily saw eye to eye on certain things. One of the things that the two of you never seemed to agree on was your relationship, and you were starting to feel that the two of you would never agree when it came to that.

Words: 3,307

You knew from the start that dating a pro hero wasn’t going to be easy. One day you could wake up next to the love of your life, and then five hours later, you find out that they died while watching the evening news. Or, one day you could find yourself being abducted by villains as a pawn to lure your hero lover into rescuing you, and either become scarred from the trauma of being kidnapped, or be the reason why your partner had fallen. Along with this, the hours for a pro were sporadic and unpredictable, which made it even harder to keep up a healthy relationship. So, it was safe to say that most heroes didn’t usually get into relationships with civilians, and, as a doctor, who had to deal with said heroes, you promised yourself to never get involved with one of them. If not for your physical health, then for your mental health.

Oh, how naive you were.

Somehow, whether it be due to some force in the universe that wanted to prove you wrong, or your own lack of willpower, you not only caught the attention of a certain elemental hero, but he had also caught yours as well. At first, you blamed your flustered state on the fact that he seemed to be one of your most, regular, patients. You tried to fool yourself that you were just simply worried for his health. After all, it wasn’t healthy to be visiting a hospital almost every other week. A few weeks of trying to convince yourself, and you suddenly were faced with the horrendous idea that you may have actually been worried about him because you cared about him, more than you were supposed to. It didn’t help that he was so handsome and sweet. In all honesty, it was truly a marvel that you managed to keep it together for as long as you had.

While you tried to keep your feelings tucked away deep inside of your heart, Shouto seemed to have other plans. On the days that he wasn’t in your hospital, bothering you with some large gash from a villain, or some serious bruises and broken bones from attempting to catch a falling building, he would still make his presence known through vases of flowers addressed specifically to you, as thanks for patching him up. Soon, arrangements of flowers were no longer delivered by the mailman, but instead by Shouto himself. He’d make sure to catch you on your break, or whenever you weren’t busy, just so he could strike up a conversation with you. It was both the most sweet and baffling thing that someone has done for you. Fairly soon after his common visits, the hospital became like his second home, where everyone knew why he was there, and the glamour of having a famous pro hero in their work environment was no longer exciting.

So, no one could really blame you when you started dating him a few months later.

Loving Shouto was one of the easiest things that you’ve ever done. Being in love with him came naturally to you, as if it were another part of your body. He was always so kind and caring, and while he did have his moments where his inexperience in terms of relationships truly showed, he always strived to be the best boyfriend that he could be. You knew that Shouto was the one who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, to grow old with. In fact, about a year into your relationship, Shouto had suggested that the two of you move in together, under the guise that you would both be saving a lot of money when it came to water and electricity, since the two of you practically lived together anyways. Not that you needed a reason to move in with him.

However, life wasn’t always that easy, and relationships don’t always turn out the way you thought they would.

After two years of dating Todoroki Shouto, you knew that the two of you would fall into some form of routine. The “honeymoon” phase wasn’t going to last forever, and you were perfectly fine with that. You still loved him dearly, and even though you both didn’t express it nearly as much as you used to, the feelings were still there, at least, on your side of the relationship.

While the two of you began to fall into your normalcy, with you growing comfortable with each other’s company, you found yourself realizing just how absent Shouto was. It started when he’d cancel your little dinner dates at home, saying that you shouldn’t wait up for him, since he’ll be home late. Of course, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, because you knew that his schedule wasn’t always the best, so you never complained to him. Soon, though, instead of missing dinner, Shouto was missing the entire day. It wasn’t very often that you had the day off, so when you did, he promised that he’d be home as well, so the two of you could make up lost time. But, when the time came, you woke up alone in your shared bed, a short note on your bedside table being your only indication that he’d left the house, and that he wouldn’t be home until late at night. Eventually, your shared apartment started to feel as though you were the only one living in it, and the only way that you knew Shouto was still living there was because the leftovers you’d put in the fridge for him would be gone the next morning.

At first, you tried really hard to be understanding. You knew that he couldn’t always be there with you, as he had a job to do. Any annoyance that you held toward him would be instantly replaced by guilt, since you knew that he was busy. However, as the days turned into months, your patience began to grown thin, and you were starting to question whether or not he even loved you anymore. If he did, he certainly never showed it, nor did he seem to feel the need to tell you that he loved you. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time he told you he loved you, or the last time you ever felt loved. At this point, you were just wondering if he even cared if you were around, or if you were just someone who he knew would always be there.

Though you had managed to keep your feelings away from him for a while, it didn’t take long for your heart to no longer be able to carry your sorrows, and soon enough, you found yourself sitting on your couch at one in the morning, balling your eyes out as you waited for Shouto to come home.

Luckily for you, you didn’t need to wait much longer, as you could hear the soft click of the lock, and in a matter of seconds, you found yourself staring down the love of your life, who seemed shocked at the fact that you were still awake.

“(Y/N)?” He called out, concern filling his voice, “Why are you still awake?”

Wiping your eyes, you took in a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come. “We need to talk,”

Though it was a bit hard to see, with only the light from the kitchen illuminating your apartment, you could make out the tired expression on Shouto’s face. With a soft sigh, he moved toward you, patting your head.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. “Will you even be here in the morning?”

Hearing the edge to your voice seemed to catch his attention, as he tilted his head, clearly confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged your shoulders, standing up from the couch in order to meet his eyes. “It’s a simple question, Shouto. You’re not even here when I wake up, so how are we supposed to talk?”

He furrowed his brow, not quite understanding what you were getting at. When he didn’t respond, you let out an obnoxious sigh, all of the anger you’ve been bottling up for the past few months finally rearing its ugly head.

“You know, at first I was fine with you cancelling for dinner. I did my best to understand that you’re a hero, and you have an important job to do,” Your eyes bore into him, almost as if you thought you could convey all of your hurt and anger by just your stare, “But, when you start to become less of a ‘roommate’ and more of a cryptid, that’s where I draw the line.”

“What are you talking about?” You could hear the defensive edge in his voice, and it did nothing to stop the fire from raging in your stomach.

“Do you even remember the last time that the two of us were together? The last time we did something that was remotely romantic? I certainly can’t!” You knew that you were unloading a lot of feelings onto him, but you couldn’t care less at this point.

“Well I’m sorry that I can’t be here all the time, but it’s not like I can just stop what I’m doing just to come home and chat,”

You wanted to rip your hair out. “I’m not asking you to do that!”

“Then what do you want?” He asked, his tone becoming as sharp as a knife, “Do you want me to quit my job? To stop being a hero? I’m not going to stop just because you feel upset. There are actual lives on the line.”

“Do you think that I don’t understand that?” You snapped, your nails digging into the palms of your hands.

“I save lives too, you know! Every single day I go to work and do my best to help out those who need me the most, but you don’t see me neglecting this relationship,”

He scoffed, his lips quirking downwards. “Just because you don’t see the work I put in doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. You knew what my life was like when we started dating, I don’t know why this is surprising,”

“I know what I got myself into! I just wish that I would matter just a fraction as much as your job,”

“You want me to prioritize you over my duty to the people?”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I just want to feel like I’m important to you,” You could feel your shoulders deflating, “Why is that so hard to understand?”

The two of you could have fought the entire night and have gone in circles. Instead, Shouto merely took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Can we just talk about this in the morning? It’s late, and I can’t think about this right now.”

All of the fight that was in you had suddenly dissipated, and all you were left with was this hollow feeling in your chest. Shaking your head, you brushed past him, heading towards the guest room.

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to talk about anymore,” You didn’t even bother turning towards him, “Just, do whatever you want.”

With that, you shut the door behind you, locking it and then throwing yourself onto the bed, praying that you’d get at least a couple hours of sleep before your shift.

Unfortunately for you, you ended up getting about two hours of sleep before waking up at six in the morning. Wordlessly, you got ready for work, not bothering to check if Shouto was still home, though, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d just taken off right after you left.

Once you had arrived at the hospital, you were instantly greeted by the concerned stares from your coworkers, with some even voicing that you didn’t look so good. Not wanting to worry anyone, you told them that you were fine, and that you just didn’t get that much sleep last night. It wasn’t a complete lie, and it got them off of your case, so, you figured that you got away with it.

You honestly couldn’t remember what happened during the rest of the day. Bits and pieces would come to you, like when you had to do a routine check-up for one of your favorite patients, or when you took a thirty minute nap during your lunch. Other than that, you truly could not remember what you did. In fact, if your receptionist didn’t tell you that it was nearly eight in the evening, you were sure that you would’ve stayed the night by accident.

As you left your shift and hurried onto the next train to take you home, you couldn’t help but replay the conversation you had with Shouto. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship stood. Neither of you had made the effort to contact the other, and although it had only been one day, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. While of course, you were glad that you told him how you felt, and that you wished he could be more present as a partner, you felt bad about how you went about telling him. There were better ways of telling him that you felt as though he didn’t care anymore, and snapping at him was probably one of the worst ways to go about it. So, as you continued your journey home, you figured that you’d apologize for snapping at him like you did, but you were in no way going to apologize for how you felt, or for telling him that you didn’t feel like a priority for him.

Once the train had reached its destination, and you had finally made it to your front door, you were just about ready to collapse onto the couch. Maybe get in a quick nap before eating dinner, or maybe you’d just head straight towards your bed and get a full eight hours of sleep. However, once the door swung open, rather than being greeted by the deafening silence that you had grown accustomed to, you could hear the soft hum of the radio being played, along with the quiet sizzling of something being cooked. Closing the door gently, you took off your shoes and jacket, quietly making your way towards the kitchen. As you peered from the doorway, you watched in awe as Shouto stood over the oven, watching almost warily at whatever he was making. It was obvious that he had no idea what he was doing, and, judging by how messy your kitchen looked, it was clear to you that this wasn’t his first attempt. Glancing over at the dining table, you noticed the pair of bowls and cups that were set, as if he were setting the table for two.

Deciding that you were tired of just standing there, you cleared your throat, making your presence known.

He jumped a bit, whipping his head towards the source of the noise, before letting out a sound of relief. Quickly turning off the stove, he faced himself towards you, and you could tell that he felt awkward.

“What are you making?” You asked, trying to break the tension in the room.

“Fried rice,” He started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I thought I could make dinner, it seemed simple enough,”

You hummed, slowly making your way over to him, trying to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t move away, you stepped closer, peering into the pan to look at what he made. While it was slightly overcooked, you appreciated the effort. Motioning toward the table, you spoke, “Go grab the bowls,”

After a few more beats of silence, the two of you found yourselves sitting in front of each other, staring awkwardly at your bowls of fried rice, unsure of what to say. While you really did want to apologize, you weren’t sure of how to approach the topic. You were worried that, if you brought up last night, it’d just end up with the two of you fighting again.

It seemed as thought Shouto had the same idea as you, as he finally spoke up, “I think we should talk about last night,”

Putting down your spoon, you nodded. Glancing up, you noticed the nervous expression on his face, and though you were about to talk about something serious, you couldn’t help but find comfort in the fact that he was just as nervous as you.

“Before we start,” You began, placing your hands in front of yourself, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that I got so angry last night. I was bottling up all of my emotions, and instead of just telling you, I let them get the best of me, and I exploded when I didn’t mean to,”

He frowned, moving to take one of your hands in his own, “I’m sorry that I tried to brush off your feelings and got defensive. I was tired and ready to go to sleep, so when you said you wanted to talk, I just snapped.”

You squeezed his hand, offering him a small smile. He returned it almost immediately, holding onto your hand as if you were his anchor. Rubbing his thumb against your knuckles, he gave you a reassuring look.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t listening last night, but I am now,” He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, “Tell me what’s going on,”

You felt a pang of anxiety rushing through you, but you pushed through. Even though you felt awful saying it, the two of you didn’t fight just for the fun of it.

“I know that being a hero means the world to you, and I’m so proud of what you do. You constantly put yourself in harms way in order to protect those who can’t save themselves, and I admire that,”

He nodded his head, ushering you to continue, “But?”

“But,” You said, trying to choose your words carefully, “I feel like you put so much of yourself into your work that there’s not enough of you left when it comes to our relationship.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I’m not saying that I should be your number one priority, I know that would be too selfish. I’d just like to be in the top five, you know?”

The frown on his face made you rethink your words. Mirroring his features, you squeezed his hand. It took him a minute to respond, letting your words sink in. Once he found his voice, he spoke, “You shouldn’t feel like you have to settle for the top five,”

He got out of his seat, pushing it closer to you before sitting down once more. This time, he took both of your hands in his, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t important to me,”

You shook your head, your nose gently bumping against his. “I know you’re busy,”

“Never too busy when it comes to you,”

You found yourself breaking out into a small grin, laughing a bit. Seeing your relaxed figure, Shouto found himself laughing with you, disconnecting his hands from yours in order to place them on your waist, pulling you closer. As you found yourself practically straddling him, you couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. He seemed to relish in your touch, as he leaned closer to you as you pulled away, causing you to let out another stream of giggles.

While the two of you still had to figure out how to manage your schedules, you were finally filled with a sense of comfort and love, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

⊱ Dirty Dancing ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Request: Please I'd like a Ke smut fic where he arrives home while Reader is listening music and doing a sexy dance (she wears a beautiful dress) and stares at her watching her dance moves, she notices him and they end up making love -Anon

Warnings: Smut

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Yiiikes I’ve neglected my requests for too long and I’m super sorry about that! I’ll be working on the two remaining in the upcoming weeks. Also, I added another anon’s request for neck kisses on here too. Hope you enjoy!

Shutting off the car’s engine, the sheer exhaustion from shooting long, grueling hours for the last three months was finally catching up to Keanu. Though his body desperately craved hours of fitful sleep, he chose to ignore it and prepared himself to see you instead.

In a state of utter weariness, he managed to drive across the city during rush hour just to have dinner with you tonight. He had missed you dearly throughout the entire time he was away and could no longer bear being apart from you, the most precious person in the world who ultimately held his heart.

Arriving at your house a half an hour early, Keanu wanted to surprise you. With a fresh bouquet of flowers in his hand and a bottle of your favorite red tucked securely under his arm, he quietly let himself in through the front door using the spare key you had given him.

From the foyer, he could already smell the enticing aroma of food wafting in the air. Stomach grumbling, he padded down the hall leading to the kitchen where the sound of music grew louder with his approach. Keanu’s lips quirked into a delighted smile as he rounded the corner, and his eyes widened at the surprising sight of you dancing to the lively beat.

For now, he decided to stay hidden in the shadows, his mind rapt at the way your hips sashayed to the seductive song blasting in the background. Donning a sexy, figure-hugging red dress which he hadn’t seen you wear previously, Keanu couldn’t tear his gaze away as the deep bass thudded through the walls. Still unaware of his presence, you exuded utter confidence with every rhythmic sway and dip of your alluring body, the sensual scene sending jolts of arousal through him.

Breath hitched in his throat, Keanu could feel his trousers tightening when he noticed the skirt of your dress had ridden up a little higher on your thighs, exposing more of your soft and supple skin. All he could think of at that very second was ripping your clothes off and taking you right then and there. Three months without having you had made him very impatient and very desperate.

Eyes devouring every inch of your beauty, Keanu thought about how dinner would surely be off the table for the next hour. He had forgotten how tired and hungry he was, a surge of energy and desire taking over as a result of watching your enticing show. Presently, his burning need inside was reserved for you and you only.

“Holy shit!” you gasped after you finally glanced over to where Keanu was and caught him standing there, an irrepressible smirk flashing across his face. “God, Ke. You scared me.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” he chuckled lowly while sauntering into the kitchen, placing the items he brought on the table.

Lowering the volume of the music, you then smiled at him once he reached you. “You’re here early. The chicken is still in the oven cooking.”

“I wanted to surprise my best girl,” Keanu replied, leaning down briefly to peck your lips. His hands slowly ran down the side of your body before settling on your hips. “Is this dress new?”

“I got it this morning,” you answered sweetly. “You like it?”

Keanu nodded, mouth ghosting down your neck. His breath tickled your skin as you released a soft moan when he pressed his body against yours, letting you feel the hardness between his legs. “I love it, and seeing the way you dance in it? That was very hot and entertaining as you can tell.”

“How much did you see?” You questioned, slipping your palms under Keanu’s shirt and noticing the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Most of it. You’re a damn good dancer, baby. An incredibly sexy one, too.”

“Perhaps I should give you a private show next time,” you suggested with a sly wink, fingers rising to tangle themselves in his hair. You tugged on them the slightest bit, just enough to elicit a reaction from him.

Abruptly, Keanu then smoothly lifted you up in his arms, placing you on the cold, granite countertop of the kitchen island. He stood in between your spread legs, leaning down and trailing moist kisses along your jaw and collarbone. His hand began to hike your dress up, revealing your laced panties to him as his mouth moved to that sensitive spot behind your ear.

Keanu’s breath was warm and ragged on your skin as he whispered, “Definitely next time. Right now, I’m going to show you how much I enjoyed that little show of yours.”

Lips locked in a deep, fervent kiss, Keanu wasted no time touching you wherever he pleased. Hearing your hum of approval, his long digits skimmed up your inner thigh agonizingly, swallowing the airy moans escaping your throat. You cried out the moment he pulled your underwear to the side and slid his fingers inside your dripping cunt, your wet walls instantly squeezing around them with a vice-like grip.

It had been far too long.

Pulling back, Keanu’s dark, lust-blown eyes held your half-lidded gaze as he pushed in his dexterous digits until he was knuckle-deep before drawing them out almost teasingly, causing you to whine and writhe underneath him uncontrollably. Eventually, he gained speed, alternating between finger-fucking and stroking your clit as you quickly came apart with his hand alone.

Your eyes were clamped shut, chest heaving unsteadily as Keanu retracted his thick fingers from your core. Smiling, he licked the slick essence coating his fingers, its divine taste both tangy and sweet on his tongue, a flavor that was uniquely and delectably yours. Still lost in your post-orgasmic haze, he deftly unzipped the back of your dress, allowing him to easily remove it from your limp body.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in the bare sight of you. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I’m a lucky man knowing that you are all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you breathlessly added. “Please, Ke...”

Peeling off his shirt, Keanu stepped back, and then asked huskily, “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You…” you sighed, watching as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants along with his boxers down, freeing his hard, pulsing cock. “I need you, Ke. I need you inside me.”

Giving himself a few languid pumps with one hand, Keanu swiftly slid your panties down your legs using the other and tossed it somewhere in the room. Sitting up, your hands gripped the edge of the counter, waiting in anticipation as he guided his tip to your heat. Slowly, he sheathed his cock inside of your pussy, and immediately it stretched to accommodate his girth.

As he bottomed out, you placed delicate kisses down the column of his neck, and he nearly purred at the sensation. No matter how many times you and Keanu made love, he surely could never get enough of you. He would cherish each moment of it, whether it would be rough and fast or sweet and slow. What he most cared about was simply you and making sure you felt loved and adored with every fiber of his being.

You lied back down on the counter as Keanu hovered over you, his hips beginning a delicious rhythm that had you mewling in seconds. He knew the two of you wouldn’t last long, not when this was your first time together in months. Soft grunts filled your ears as he thrust in and out of you, his control gradually slipping the more you whimpered out his name.

“P-Please, Ke,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his back as he lowered his lips to yours. The pleasure was becoming too overwhelming, leaving you unable to form a coherent word, but Keanu knew precisely what you needed.

“I-I’m close, baby,” he warned, his movements faltering as the tightly-wound up coil in his stomach began to unravel much like yours. “Come with me. Go ahead, let go. Let go for me.”

With a shuddering breath, you shook in pure ecstasy while you came around Keanu’s cock. You managed to keep your eyes open long enough to watch him reach his own high, his face contorting with bliss as he released hot spurts of his cum deep inside of you. Satiated, Keanu slumped forward, carefully not to crush you as you both tried to regain your senses.

After some time had passed, he gently withdrew his softening cock from you before grabbing paper towels to clean yourselves up. Keanu then helped you hop down from the counter, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a passionate kiss once your feet touched the tile floors. You only broke away when the oven timer suddenly dinged behind him, reminding you of the dinner you were prepping before his arrival.

“Chicken’s ready,” you mumbled against his lips. “Are you still hungry?”

“Starving,” Keanu laughed before reaching down and retrieving your discarded red dress from the ground. “You should probably hang this up for later.”

“Later?” Your brows rose in curiosity. “You want me to wear it again later?”

“Yes,” he stated, dipping down to kiss you breathlessly again. “You did promise me a private show, and I want to see you dance with this on again.”

“What if I danced with nothing on?” You proposed with a teasing tone. “How would you like that instead?”

Nodding, Keanu’s lips curved upwards, already feeling himself harden by the mere thought of it. “I’m really glad to be back home.”

“Me too,” you agreed before stepping in to close the distance, your lips connecting one more time.

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @lussdew

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #my fics #reader insert #rpf #request

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dinoyoongi · 4 years

Text

Confirm or Deny (6) - Final

SYNOPSIS: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader

GENRE: Romance, Angst

WARNINGS: Language, brief mentions of sexual situations

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

AUTHORS NOTE: The ending is here! Thank you so much to everyone who has loved and supported this story! I’m sorry that it took so long to get the ending written but I hope it’s as satisfying for you to read as it was to write! I know a few might be disappointed with it - that’s understandable - I did rewrite this chapter several times and cut out a lot that I had originally planned but ultimately I think I wrote an ending fit for me, Joonie and Sweets. <3

__________________________________

“Y/N?” Your chin snaps up at the sound of your name, eyes wide at the polite, smiling face of the young receptionist at the desk in front of the room. “The director will be ready shortly. He apologizes for the delay and appreciates your patience.”

Exhaling in relief, you bow in understanding, returning her courteous grin quickly before turning your eyes down to the screen in your lap. On your phone, Tom Hanks strides to the stage to the applause of the audience, the camera panning to different nominees in this final, ultimate category. The quick shot of BTS – of Namjoon's nervous but elated grin – makes your heart knock against your chest hard. Tom Hanks prattles for a few seconds about the achievements of the nominees before he's handed a golden envelope.

“And the Grammy for record of the year goes to … BTS!”

You don't realize you're holding your breath until you're on your feet and screaming, lightheaded and breathless from the lack of oxygen. Hand slapping over your mouth to silence your hysteria, you ignore the concerned calls from the receptionist and shakily lower yourself back onto your seat. Though seconds have passed, the group hasn't found their way onto the stage. Instead, they remain in the audience, huddled in the tightest of hug. Not a single one of them has a dry face.

You included.

They did it. Holy shit. They won a Grammy – the biggest Grammy of the night. This would make it their second after picking up the award for best group earlier in the morning. But record of the year … it's the award. And they did it. Namjoon did it.

There's a gentle tapping on your shoulder. When you glance up, you can barely make out the blurred silhouette of the receptionist through the haze of your tears.

“Are you okay? Do I need to call anyone for you?”

“N-no, I'm fine, I-I just-” you stop yourself, eyes falling down to the phone screen. She follows your gaze, mouth opening in understanding when she sees the seven of them on the stage. Her shock is quickly replaced with a warm smile. “I'll be quieter. Sorry.”

She giggles. “Don't worry about it. If you need tissues or anything, come see me at my desk, okay?”

Unable to suppress the elation, you grin as you nod, pushing the pods further into your ear and jamming the volume up button on your phone as loud as it would allow. Namjoon is already speaking and the sound of his voice immediately conjures the waterworks again. He stutters over a few pronunciations and has to pause every so often to wipe his tears, but his speech is beautiful and poignant. The words are straight from his heart, straying from any kind of notes or script that the group might have drafted on the chance that they'd actually win.

“Of course, we love and appreciate our fans – our ARMY – dearly. But we also want to thank everyone behind the scenes – our loved ones who we might have neglected and hurt in our path to get where we are. We hope that you're proud of us and that you'll stay … sweetly … by our side.”

The sobs come easily. Instantly.

Sweetly. He's talking directly to you – his Sweets.

You watch with loud sniffles until their speech is done, until they're carrying themselves off of the stage, until the last musical guest that you honestly couldn't name begins to perform. Your finger pushes at the power button on the side of your phone and when the screen fades to black, the reflection that stares back at you is a haggard mess. Grabbing a few tissues from the nice receptionist and cleaning yourself up before the most important meeting of your life is probably the best idea. But you can't seem to move.

Walking into this building a few minutes ago, you were sure of what you wanted – a fresh start, a new path, all slates wiped clean. Joining P NATION would do that for you. And this was everything that you wanted. It's everything that you've worked for.

But maybe … maybe you want Namjoon just a little bit more. You don't even know if a future with him is something that's feasible, or if it's something that he still wants. What if Big Hit refuses to let the two of you be together? What if P NATION refuses to let you date at all?

Once again you're faced with the possibility that you might have to choose the two things you want most in your entire life – your idol career or Namjoon.

You finally pry your hard stare from the phone. Looking up, there are two doors on either side of the room. One door – the door that you entered in – leads to the lobby, to the exit. The other door leads to the conference room where you'll be meeting with the directors of P NATION.

Your stomach twists, your throat suddenly tightening with the urge to vomit.

“Here,” the receptionist's voice cuts through your anxiety. She pushes a wad of tissues in your direction. When you don't move to accept them, she clicks her tongue in amusement and plops down into the chair next to yours. You're startled when she reaches out with the tissue to dab at your face gently, using the slightest pressure as to not totally destroy your makeup. “You look conflicted. It's not usually something I see from potential trainees … or in your case, idol, I guess? Most if not all of them are excited and confident and anxious to sign a contract. You … you look like you're going to toss your cookies all over the carpet. No offense.”

Despite your inner turmoil, you feel yourself cracking a smile. “None taken.”

“What your company did to you was disgusting,” she says casually, leaning over your lap to toss the tissue in a garbage bin. You blink at her in surprise. Not many people are bold enough to bring the incident – or incidents, because there were quite a few – with Hot Star to your face. “I grew up in the states so the extreme response to a dating report here just baffles me. Seriously. In the west, we want our favorite celebrities to date and be happy and healthy. We actually ship celebrities together. I remember growing up being totally in love with Freddie Prinze Jr – you don't know who that is, do you? She's All That? Scooby-Doo? None of this rings a bell? Okay, it doesn't matter, anyway – he started dating a co-star from one of his movies and I was their biggest cheerleader because I could see how happy he was. And you know what? Those two actors are still married to this day and I'm still rooting for them.”

Her rant is punctuated with a triumphant crossing of her arms as she leans back into her seat. You're confused as you gape at her. What is it that she's trying to tell you? If Hot Star and Big Hit hadn't intervened and the fans hadn't been so crazy, you and Namjoon would have a successful marriage?

She chuckles when she sees your confused expression. “Sorry, I know I'm a bit extra sometimes. My point that I have failed to get to is that … Hot Star has serious karma coming their way. I think you have the potential to do amazing things with your career. And I know from the look on your face that you're two seconds away from bolting but why don't you stick around and at least hear what they have to say?”

Her palm rises to your line of vision, a compact mirror and lip tint sat on top in a peace offering. It only takes you a few long seconds to reach out, hesitantly accepting the items with a gracious bow of your head. You're given one last encouraging grin before she stands up, bows and retreats back to the desk at the front of the room. Lowering the cosmetics into your lap, you exhale a shaky breath and pick up your phone. Though you had deleted his contact from your phone, there was no way that you didn't remember the number by heart.

You let the words flow into your fingertips, jerking your thumb to the send button before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Y/N,” the receptionist calls for you. Her eyes meet yours. “They're ready for you.”

__________________________________

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Jungkook is chanting breathlessly to himself as he grasps Namjoon's arm for support, the group shuffling quickly into the backstage area. The leader wobbles, his legs feeling as if they're made of jelly; all of his limbs feel as if they're suddenly jelly. The only part of him with substantial weight is the shiny, gold gramophone statue clutched tightly in his right hand. There's chaos as they step into the dressing room – managers, stylists and various staff shouting victoriously, some of their faces drenched with happy tears.

After all this time … they did it. The Grammys were something that all k-pop stars only fantasized about and BTS - Namjoon and his brothers – now hold two of them.

It's a feeling that Namjoon can't comprehend. It's a feeling that's too overwhelming for his body. He wants to do everything; wants to cry, he wants to scream, he wants to hug every single person in the room, he wants to tell everybody he knows. He wants …

Oh. His chest dives when your face appears in the back of his mind. This is usually when you're calling him to congratulate him, to tell him how proud you are, to remind him how hard he worked for it, to promise him a more intimate celebration when you get to spend more time together.

From the wild thumping of his heart, it's easy to decide what he wants to do the most.

Ignoring the craziness of the room, Namjoon drops onto the couch. The award is yanked out of his grasp but he lets it go, reaching instead into the pile of cellular devices left on the coffee table to collect his own phone. Booting it up, he's not surprised to see his inbox already flooded with congratulatory messages and voicemails.

However, it's your message that sits right at the very top – two minutes ago – that surprises him the most.

Congratulations, Joonie. I am so proud of you. And when you want me, I'll always be by your side.

He reads the words again. And again. And again. Over and over until the dark font transforms into a blurred silhouette from his tears. One of the members – he can't distinguish who at this point – yanks his limp body into a hug, assuming that their leader is emotional from the fact that they just made history.

That's what he should be emotional about.

But all he can think about is you.

You, who had been with him since he joined Big Hit, who trained with him and grew with him. You, who supported him more than any person on this planet. You, who swore with your entire life that BTS would win Grammys. You knew it was going to happen and he wanted to prove you right.

How can he feel victorious when you're not with him?

Rising to his feet abruptly, Namjoon seeks out his manager. Upon seeing the fierce determination in his gaze, the main wrangler of the seven idols feels his cheerful grin drop. Jerking his head into the direction of the hallway, Namjoon has made up his mind.

The company will be furious; they'll fight it as much as they can. The fans will be devastated and betrayed, some might even boycott. The boys – though they'll support him no matter what – will be understandably concerned. This is a decision that effects everybody and the only person Namjoon cares about, the only person who can make the decision … is you.

__________________________________

“How does everything look?” Mr. Park, also known as freaking Psy, asks politely, leaning in your direction from across the table. Your eyes quickly skim the first few pages of the document again. You're not familiar with a lot of the legal terms and you'd be lying if you didn't admit that there were parts of the contract that sounded slightly confusing. But for the most part – from your experience with your past contracts and your knowledge of the industry – the agreement is great. Way better than anything you ever imagined prior to walking into the building today. “Is there anything you'd like to edit? Any clauses you'd like to negotiate?”

You clear your throat, wishing your nerves would give you a break. “It all looks great, honestly. I'm really thankful for this opportunity.”

Psy frowns. “I sense a but coming.”

“No, no” you assure him with a shaky chuckle. “I'm definitely signing. I'd be crazy not to. This is such a great contract, more than someone like me could have ever hoped for after … you know, all things considered. I just … I do want to request one clause be added.”

Every pair of shoulders at the table straightens up, pens being pressed to paper and fingers set atop of their laptop keyboards at the ready.

“This might sound silly coming from me and it might be a rookie mistake to request this at the contract signing but … I want to be able to date. I want to be given the chance to have a normal, healthy relationship whether it be private or public – and I want to be the one that chooses which. When there's news about me dating, I want you to ask me first and I want you to have my back, to publish what I say and not what you think will get more attention with the media. And you can refuse, you can even add a clause that says I'm not allowed to date but to be honest, even if you tell me no, I'm still going to do it. You can rip up the papers right now if that's what you want to do. I just want to be transparent with you. I've given up so much and I don't want to give up anything more. That's the decision I made for myself before I came through these doors.”

The speech is long and you're winded when you finish, leaning back against the chair with what you hope is a quiet exhale. At the end of the table, there's a light giggling. Before you sat down, you were fully under the impression that you'd be meeting with Hyuna because it was her name on the business card that was handed to you. You knew there would be other people involved but you didn't expect it to be Psy and his entire legal team. For the majority of the meeting, Hyuna stayed silent at her end of the table, only nodding or laughing or frowning when appropriate. She offered you nothing except for polite smiles when your gazes accidentally crossed paths. Admittedly, you were confused about her role in your signing but just having her there – someone who was in your exact shoes but had the guts to actually stand up for her relationship – made a world of difference in how comfortable and confident you were speaking right now.

“I told you,” Hyuna chuckles, pursing her lips cockily and throwing a sly head tilt to Psy. Your nerves intensify as you snap your neck to the man who nods in agreement. “I told you that you should have just added that clause to save some time.”

And just like that, your mic drop moment is gone. You feel yourself trembling as you lower your eyes to the table. They knew you were going to ask for it. They were going to add a clause so that you wouldn't ask for it.

“When you say that you want to be in a relationship, do you mean that you want to be in a relationship with Kim Namjoon of BTS?” Hyuna asks curiously, fingers twirling a pen as if this this meeting wasn't about to be the cause of your impending heart-attack. Namjoon's name being spoken only adds to your panic.

“Does it make a difference if I say yes?” you stutter, your voice small.

“You said you want to be transparent with us. Don't back down now,” she warns. The sound of her pen dropping to the table is like an foghorn directly into your ear canal.

“Okay, yes. I want to be in a relationship with Namjoon,” you admit. Maybe you're just searching for any sign of discomfort in the room but you swear that you hear the hiss of someone taking in a breath. You continue anyway. “I'm not saying concretely that I will be. It's … complicated between us. But I love him more than anything else and if the chance to be with him again presents itself then … yes, I'm going to take it.”

“Okay then,” Psy says, his eyes flitting to a few of the men sat next to him at the table. “Get to work. She can date whoever she wants, whenever she wants and we must consult with her about her personal matters before submitting any statements to the press. Y/N, anything else to add?”

Wait, what?

“Y-you're still signing me? You're … adding the clause?” you ask in disbelief.

Psy's grin is wide as he smiles. “Of course we are. We're signing you because we want your talent, not your freedom.”

“I didn't even have to convince him,” Hyuna chirps. Your eyes are wide and watery as you gape at her with awe. “He was on board the second that I mentioned your name. What has happened to you in your career is … disgraceful. Being kicked out of Big Hit simply for being a woman, being kicked out of Hot Star because your company choose to capitalize on your relationship instead of supporting you. I know you probably think that he's just scooping up jaded k-pop stars but we're not interested in you because we pity your unfortunate background. We're interested because we're in awe of how you keep going. You were at the top of the food chain of trainees at Big Hit and when you were transferred, you had to start all over again and you did it. You debuted. And when this industry kicked you back down to square one, instead of giving up on being an idol like most others would, you took my card and called us to willingly – once again – be the lowest totem on the pole. You've got the whole package – talent, looks and perseverance. You're going places farther than any of those girls in FRNZEE could even fathom and we want to be the ones that help you get there.”

You don't realize that you're out of your seat, that you're stumbling your way in Hyuna's direction until she's in front of you and you're swinging your arms around her neck. She's startled, emitting a soft oomph as she fumbles backward but instead of pushing you away, she pats your shoulder comfortingly.

“Thank you,” you sob into chest. “Thank you so much. You have no idea. I-I just … I don't-”

Gently, she pushes you away, her hand firm on your shoulders as she bends down to meet your eyes directly. With her other hand, she uses her thumb to wipe away what you know are disgustingly hideous mascara tracks. Her smile is blinding as she grins at you encouragingly.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” she says warmly. Those words send a trill of warmth down your spine. “Even though it was my suggestion, who you really need to be thanking is our CEO. I have a big mouth and I use it often but he's the one who ultimately makes the decisions.”

You nod, turning to approach Psy. Unlike with Hyuna, you reign in your raging emotions, opting to bow respectfully instead of launching yourself at him. “Thank you, sir. I promise that I'm not going to let you down.”

Rounding back to your side of the table, there's no hesitance when you pick up the pen to sign your name and stamp your seal. The group waits until your pen has been placed back onto the table before they're on their feet and cheering. Their applause for simply signing with you is more encouraging than all of your positive interactions you've ever had with the Hot Star CEO combined. Psy has the super sweet receptionist – who winks in congratulations before she leaves the room – bring in a bottle of champagne and Hyuna insists on snapping a photograph of you with your contract for your future trophy case in their talent room.

You've been in this room for an hour. One hour and it feels as if you've been handed this entire new world wrapped with a shiny promise of a great future.

There's only one thing missing.

__________________________________

ONE MONTH LATER

BREAKING: Y/N officially signs with P NATION!

Months after leaving FRNZEE and Hot Star Entertainment following the dating scandal that led to her being verbally and physically attacked by BTS fans, P NATION – the entertainment company that was founded by former YG artist Psy in 2019 – has announced on social media today that they've officially signed with Y/N! Y/N was ostracized in the k-pop industry after rumors of her dating BTS leader RM were confirmed by Hot Star but denied by Big Hit. Due to backlash, Y/N was ultimately pulled from the group's comeback. The controversy also saw BTS fans attacking the then-FRNZEE vocalist in the KBS parking lot during a Music Bank recording.

We can't wait to see what kind of music Y/N will be releasing under this new label. Stay tuned for more updates!

You roll your eyes, clicking off of the article and back to the influx of incoming messages. It was too much to hope for a quick “congratulations!” article, wasn't it? Scrolling through the messages, you feel slightly overwhelmed but in a good way.

Ji-na: I feel cool because I already knew but still CONGRATS AGAIN BABE! Happy for you!!

You're giggling as you type back a response to her and a few other people before clicking the phone off and setting it down to charge. Your eyes take a long moment to adjust to the dimness of the room compared to the bright lights of your phone screen. Today has been a whirlwind of messages and phone calls and more messages and more phone calls. You just need a break from all devices.

“Y/N?” a voice from the kitchen calls. You heave yourself onto your feet, padding a few steps over to the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. Per your contract with P NATION, instead of sticking you in a dorm, you're now living in an apartment building owned by somebody who works for the company. Your building neighbors include Hyuna and Hyojong who actually live on your floor and Jessi who lives a few up. It wasn't super spacious but it was cozy and private and yours. You sigh in exhaustion as you slump onto one of the stools. “Do you want mozzarella on your pasta?”

Elbows resting on the table, your chin propped onto your palms, you nod sleepily, letting your eyes flutter closed. “A lot of it, please.”

You giggle when you feel something press against your lips. Opening your eyes, you're not surprised to see Namjoon mirroring your posture, his lips on yours. He kisses you sweetly for another few seconds before pulling away. “You've had a long day. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Happy. Content. Hungry,” you say pointedly, grinning when his dimples dip from his laughter. “I'm so glad that you're here with me right now.”

“Me too, Sweets,” he says softly, sliding his hand across the table. You remove one from under your chin and meet him halfway, interlocking your fingers immediately. Like always, your heart pummels against your ribcage. It appears that Namjoon is always going to fluster you and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Considering the scale of dramatic that was yours and Namjoon's breakup, you would've thought there would have been some epic reunion consisting of hours of conversation and arguments and agreements that would lead to the reigniting of your relationship but … there wasn't. When he got off of the plane after returning from America, the first place that he went to was yours. In Daejeon. You had been in Seoul for meetings the entire day and because of what happened, your mother wouldn't let him in the house. He waited hours on the porch for you to return – after he had just gotten off a thirteen hour flight – and when you finally walked up that sidewalk to see him dozing on the uncomfortable, rickety wicker chair …. you just knew.

There didn't have to be a spectacular speech or declaration of love – you already knew you loved him and that you wanted to be with him again.

So here you were. Together.

Together – the word makes your chest clench in relief.

You eat your pasta takeout at the kitchen counter, taking turns feeding the different noodles to each other between catch-up conversation. You tell Namjoon about the concept meeting that you had earlier in the day, the meeting that would decide in what direction you want your sound to go. He tells you about the amount of celebrities – specifically ones that have stuck their noses up at the boys in the past – that are flooding Big Hit with collaboration requests following the Grammys. And when you finish up with dinner, you both retire onto the sofa. Namjoon loads Netflix and turns on a random documentary although you both know damn well that you'll only watch it for maybe twenty minutes before your restless hands and yearning lips find another way to keep each other occupied.

Tonight, though, you're surprised when he whips his phone out in front of your face. “We don't have any recent pictures together. Let's take a selfie.”

Your hair is in a messy bun and your face is bare but who are you to deny him anything?

Leaning in, Namjoon presses his lips against your cheek. You smile bashfully, assuming the picture will turn out incredibly sweet, until he uses his free hand to squeeze your cheeks together. Before you can protest, the blinding flash of the camera captures the moment. You massage the skin that was pinched when he releases you, muttering grumpily as he coos over how adorable he thinks the picture is.

“This one will be perfect,” he mumbles to himself before his fingers start moving across the screen keyboard.

You squint in confusion. “Perfect for what?”

He pretends to not hear you but you get your answer only two minutes later. The pings and beeps and notifications on your phone begin to chime rampantly again.

Ji-na: OMG NAMJOON IS TOO CUTE. YOU GUYS ARE TOO CUTE.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously at your boyfriend who lounges next to you, phone in one hand while the other kneads a spot on your ankle where it rests on his lap. “Why does Ji-na think you're too cute? What did you do?”

Namjoon chuckles incredulously. “Wow, that didn't take long at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, he presents you with his phone that's loaded to his Weverse account. There's one post from Namjoon, added two minutes ago. The goofy selfie of the two of you with the caption: I've been an idiot – she has always been my Sweets. Congrats, babe.

“Namjoon!” you shriek in alarm, shooting up into a sitting position. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

You gawk at the man as he chuckles calmly, pulling himself off of the sofa as well. Why would he do that? And how can he be so calm? Doesn't he realize that he posted it? Doesn't he realize what he just did?

“I … Joonie, I don't understand. Help me understand. Why did you do that?”

He takes your hand in his, pushing the pad of his fingers into your skin soothingly. “I told myself that if I was lucky enough to be with you again, things would be different. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes I did last time. I don't want us to hide. I don't want us to be a secret. I know that there's going to be backlash from this – especially because of my reaction last time – but I just want to be with you, okay? Is that okay?”

Is it hot in here? You feel like you're melting.

“Joonie, of course it's okay. There aren't going to be any label issues on my end and of course I want nothing more than to be public with you – it's what I've always wanted – but … have you cleared this with Big Hit? With the boys? What's going to happen now?”

He gives you his wide, closed-mouth smile, the one that makes his dimples deep. “What's going to happen is that we're going to be happy. Together. I'm going to own up to my mistakes and take responsibility for not fighting for us the first time around. I'm going to endure the backlash with the boys at my side and … we're going to be Joonie and Sweets no matter what anyone has to say about it. Okay?”

You nod, biting your lip to stop the sudden onslaught of tears. Joonie and Sweets. It's all you've ever wanted.

He sighs. “I know this is going to get us both in a bit of hot water but I'm done hiding.”

Crawling closer to him, you snuggle into his side, sighing in contentedness when his arm wraps around your shoulder and pulls you closer.

“I'm okay, Joonie. I can take whatever is thrown at us but I just have to confirm one thing for whenever my manager eventually calls,” you tell him. His eyebrow lifts questioningly. “We're both in the relationship this time, right?”

He rolls his eyes once before lunging at you, fingers digging into your sides in merciless tickles.

- T H E E N D -

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princessofqueensandkings · 4 years

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“make the time”: Tetsuro Kuroo Toru Oikawa and Wakatoshi Ushijima headcanon

Summary: Volleyball has been taking up a lot of their time and their s/o is supportive but also feels neglected because they do not spend any time together.

WARNING: NONE, JUST FLUFF (gender neutral reader)

Kuroo

• Always wants to make time for you but volleyball is his first love and sometimes he has a hard time balancing you and volleyball • You are understanding and you love him dearly but when’s the last time you guys even hung out? Did he not like you anymore? Should you tell him? You do not want to be clingy, but you miss him a lot. • You decide to start distancing yourself from him because you are afraid of him not understanding • He immediately notices your absence; you stop showing up to his practices, and avoid him in the halls • Even Kenma asks where you were (you were the only s/o that he liked lol) • This goes on for about a week until he can’t stand it up more • He waits for you after the last class to confront you about your absence • “Hey babe, did I do something wrong?” His usual confident demeanor is gone, he just wants to know what he did wrong so he can make it right. • “Huh? What do you mean?” You’re confused, you thought he needed some space to focus on volleyball. You know how important volleyball is to him, you know all his hopes and future goals and it would kill you to get in the way of that. You missed him dearly, you wanted to do nothing more than to hold him and spend time with him. • “I haven’t seen you at all this week. I missed you. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me, you don’t even come to my practices anymore. I always walk you home afterwards but last week I couldn’t find you at all.” • You finally understand that this separation wasn’t good for both of you. You explain to him that his passion for volleyball has made you back away from him in fear that you would get in the way. • He’s surprised to say the least, he loved you so much. How could you ever get in the way? “Kitten, nothing you can do can ever get in the way. I love volleyball but you come before anything. My soulmate, my other half, the one who can call at 2 in the morning to tell cheesy chemistry jokes to.” He chuckled “ I’m sorry you felt that way baby, I don’t want you to feel second place to anything.” • You smile, you knew Kuroo had a way with words but your heart never stops racing when he professes his love for you. “You’re right Kuroo, I should of told you how I felt instead of holding it in.” • “Don’t apologize Kitten, I should have been paying more attention. Come on let’s go to the ramen shop you like.” • “Umm but don’t you have practice babe?” • “Kitten, this day is about me and you. When’s the last time we hung out?” • You laugh “Okay lets go.”

Oikawa

• You start distancing yourself because of all the focus he puts on volleyball. Volleyball is his one number focus and then you. So, it definitely comes as a surprise when you hear a knock on your door and see him standing there with flowers. • “Toru? What you are doing here?” You asked • “Y/NNNNNN” he whines “Are you breaking up with me?” He asks • You’re shocked, what is he talking about? You loved him more than anything. • “What are you talking about?” You ask • He starts to list everything that you did that day,” First you didn’t give me a good morning text, then when I saw you at school I didn’t get a good morning kiss, and THEN you went to eat lunch at the cafeteria even though it’s a sunny day. You know on sunny days we always eat outside together. And FINALLY when my practice was over I spent 20 minutes waiting to walking home with you, only to look at my phone and see you texted me that you went home already” he whines again “You’ve don’t love me anymore, that’s why you been avoiding me” He frowns and pushes the flowers in your hands “Please don’t leave me baby.” Then he gives you the puppy face to end all puppy faces. (aww why did you do that to him, meany hehe) • You’re stunned, you knew Toru payed attention more than he let on, but you had no idea he was this focused on you. • “Toru, the only reason, I’ve been giving you space because I know the volleyball tournament is coming up and you need the least amount of distractions possible.” • “Aww y/n!!!! I love you even more” He brings you in for a hug, he used to people telling him he focuses too much on volleyball and how he should take breaks. Even his group of fangirls get mad when he can’t talk to them because he wants to focus on his serves for the next game. But you always understood him, you always make him feel like he has nothing to hide for you. “Y/N, I appreciate the thought you put into your actions but just know that you don’t ever have to feel like you need to distance yourself away from me to make me better, I’m better when I’m with you, not away from you. If you ever feel like you need to talk to me, don’t hold back. Okay?” He exclaims • You smile “okay, I won’t do that again” • “Promise?” He asks as he walks into your house and sits on the couch • “Promise.” You say as you walk up behind him to give him a kiss. “Okay I’ll get the popcorn.” Already seeing that he has the remote to turn on Netflix. • “Movie night!” he yells “And hurry up you have to repay me in cuddles for ignoring me all day.” He pouts. • The rest of the night you two spend in each other arms watching movies • The next morning Iwaizumi comes up to you “Please don’t ignore Shittykawa anymore he was annoying more than usual yesterday.” He rolls his eyes as you laugh “Sorry Iwaizumi!”

Ushijima

• OHLORD this poor baby • Tbh he won’t really notice that you start to distance yourself. • You and Toshi have been dating for a while and he loves that you aren’t clingy and you able to do your own thing. • But really you are distancing yourself because he isn’t really giving you attention because of volleyball. • This poor boy eats and sleeps volleyball so when you came into his life, he knew that he had to make changes, but he just didn’t know how. • It wasn’t until Tendou notice your absence and asked Toshi about it. That when he really started to miss your presence. • Practices were usually a place where he could completely free his mind, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t even focus on what mattered in practice. • Eventually he lied to his coaches and asked to go home early because he wasn’t feeling well. He went to your class hoping that you might still be there. • He found you studying in your classroom because you had a test tomorrow and wanted to get as much information as possible. You were so focused in your studies that you didn’t hear him enter. • “Y/N?” He walked in and sit next to you. • “Toshi?” you said, “What are you doing here, what about practice?” • “I was talking to Tendou and he said he hasn’t seen you lately. He thinks you might be mad at me, are you?” He asks • You couldn’t help to notice the hint of worry in his voice. You knew that he loved volleyball for a long time so it made sense that he didn’t notice you gone without Tendou’s help but it still hurt to know that it toke his best friend to notice your absence. • “Well,” you started “I know that volleyball is everything to you and I’m starting to feel like I’m getting in the way of your future.” You looked at him and his expression didn’t change so you continued, “I mean you’re Wakatoshi Ushijima, the great ace, what am I? Nothing.” You get up to leave. Saying everything you thought didn’t make it hurt any less. You just need to get out of here but Toshi grab your hand. • “Nothing?” he questions “You think that you’re nothing? Y/N, you’re everything to me. To everyone else I’m, Wakatoshi Ushijima, the great ace, but to you I can just be Toshi. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice your abscess at first, I thought that you wanted to your space and I wanted to give you that but now I know that you think so little of yourself and that isn’t true. I love you. Please know that.” • Your eyes start to water, Toshi never been one for words, his actions spoke for him but hearing him acknowledging him love made you heart soar. “I love you too, Toshi” you explain “I was so worried that I wouldn’t live up to the expectations of being your s/o but I’m starting to understand that as long as we’re both happy that’s all that matter.” You lean up into your tippy toes to give him a kiss, he happily leans downs and returns it. • “Can I walk you home?” he asks • You giggled and give him another kiss, “Of course, Toshi.”

`````````

Okay hope you guys enjoyed this!!! I got this idea from talking with @aoi-turtle so please check them out!! lmk what else you guys want, my inbox is open!! love yall :) (OPEN TO ANY FEEDBACK)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #oikawa #toru oikawa #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu headcanons #plz talk to me #haikyuu fluff

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youralternantpersonality · 4 years

Text

You’ve Got It Bad

Seth x Reader: Wanting you

Part 1: “Dreams” by Ella Eyre

Part 2: “You’ve Got It Bad” by Usher

Part 3: “Never Give Up on Love” by Bobby Tinsley

***

Y/n POV

Oh, no, no, no, no, no No, no, no, no, no, no, no

Ooh

When you feel it in your body You found somebody who makes you change your ways Like hanging with your crew Said you act like you're ready But you don't really know And everything in your past, you wanna let it go

Over the past few months, Seth and I have been…I don’t know…pulling towards one another. Literally. I didn’t notice at first, but Kayla pointed it out one day after school on our day off. It was shocking, to be honest. I never saw it before, and when she explained with facts, I couldn’t deny nor confirm it. But after that conversation, I did notice there was a change.

“I’m telling you, Y/n!”

“Shhhh! You’ll wake up the monster.” I say, whispering to her. The monster, aka one of my two guardians Taylor. Taylor can be described as a temperamental ass bitch. I mean, Kennedy isn’t any better, but at least their words aren’t harmful like Taylors. They’ve never put their hands on me (because they know I will knock their necks), but they are slightly intimidating.

“Sorry. But still, for example, usually in Mr. Harpender's class, you guys would sit on the opposite end of one another. Suddenly, you guys are now in the middle of the class. If Jeffery Delmer wasn’t a teacher-pet and had to be at the desk before everyone else, I swear you guys would be on top of one another by this point.” She smiles with excitement while I roll my eyes.

“Well, regardless, he hasn’t been at school in, what, a month or so? So, who knows? Maybe if he comes back, we’ll see.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Look, I’m just saying, you should make the first move. Look at him! He’s such a sweetheart and a cutie! He looks in your direction all of the time.” I feel a rush of heat consume my cheeks as my face brings up a smile.

“I’ll think about it…IF he comes back. If not, then it was just meant to be as such.” Kayla rolls her eyes and plops over to the other side of the bed.

“You’re lame.”

That night, as I was lying in bed, I thought about what Kayla said and how we had gravitated towards each other. The feeling is, nice? Frustrating? Overwhelming? I don’t know, it just feels-

“What was that?” I whisper to myself. I look towards where the noise was coming from and walk over to the window to check. I slightly pull my covers back, and I look around. I suddenly remember the dreams that would display almost every other night. The one where Seth comes to my window but wake up before anything happens.

As I search for what it could have been, my eyes land on something that I can’t see. I know whatever it is, they’re watching me watch them watching me. I don’t move my eyes from them until I hear a creak in the floorboard in the hallway. I turn to look at the door, then look back outside. Whatever is out there is gone. I rush—quietly—back to my bed and play as if I fell asleep. I suck at acting, so I grab a book and lay in an awkward position sitting up so that if they look in my room, I’ll have a reason as to why my light that I stupidly neglected to turn off is still on.

“Wretched child…” Kennedy said as she comes in. I “wake” up to see her looking at me and act as if I was asleep.

“What have I told you about keeping the light on past 8:30. And why are you still up?” I roll my eyes and respond in a tired voice.

“I didn’t mean to,” I toss my book on my side table, “I was reading and fell asleep,” I say, moving into a more comfortable position. Ken rolls their eyes, leaves, and almost slams the door shut. I’ll never understand their issue with me. But then again, I am, and I quote, “trophy child. To show the community that they care and were willing to take in a ‘troubled’ teen out of the system” end quote.

I wasn’t troubled, and I wasn’t in the system. My parents knew them and trusted them with their guardianship while they went on their 2-year missionary trip. But no matter what I tell my parents, it’s always conveyed back to them, and I get the fucked-up end of the stick. Because, you know, who would believe in the teenager that has sent countless of proof of the fucked-up situation you put the child in.

I've been there, done it, fucked around After all that, this is what I found Nobody wants to be alone If you're touched by the words in this song Then baby

You got it, you got it bad When you're on the phone Hang up and you call right back You got it, you got it bad If you miss a day without your friend Your whole life's off track You know you got it bad when you're stuck in the house You don't wanna have fun It's all you think about You got it bad when you're out with someone But you keep on thinkin' bout somebody else You got it bad

The following week, Seth came back and hot-fucking-damn. Wherever he disappeared off to change him that much, bless them oh so dearly.

“Hey, there’s your boyfriend.” Orion nudges me; I turn to look at him and Kayla and tell them to shut up. I guess Orion said it loud enough because not only Seth, but some of his other friends that consisted of Jared, Paul, Embry, Quil, and Jake all turned to us, and I had never felt more embarrassed than now. I hear Kayla and Orion still laughing, so I take the opportunity to bump Orion (lightly) towards Kayla and watch them almost fall on one another in the hallway. I can feel them look at me, and I try to ignore it by laughing, turning around, and head to class.

“Hey!” Orion yelled.

“Damnit, Orion! You’re heavier than you look!” Kayla said.

“No! You’re just weak.” Orion came back.

Seth’s POV

“So…” Embry started.

“Not now, Em,” I said, rolling my eyes, already knowing what was about to come next.

“Yeah! Lay off, little stalker. It’s not his fault that he couldn’t resist knowing if Y/n is his imprint or not.” Paul said. I push him off me and straighten my shirt.

“Yeah, well, at least he found out that she was. YOU, however, are still seeking and hoping you do.” Jared says. Paul looks at him as if he’s offended.

“I thought you were on my side?!” He shrugs his shoulder while finishing up his pancake in his hand.

“Anyways, now I say you REALLY have a reason to talk to her. You remember what Sam said-” Quil said,

“Before or after yelling at him for running off?” Embry asked,

“Both. You can’t run away from your imprint. No matter how hard you try. So, go up to Y/n. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She rejects him” –Embry,

“Kicks him in the balls”—Paul. I grabbed myself a little. I’ve seen her on the soccer field…that would hurt.

“Laugh-in his face” –Jared,

“Puke?” –Quil,

“Why is that a question?” Jake asked.

“She doesn’t seem like the type to do it,” Quil responded, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Can you guys shut up!” I say, walking into the school. Jake catches up with me while the other guys laugh.

“You know they’re kidding, right. She’s not going to do anything like that. I told you before, she does like you. I have Kayla in my history class, and I saw your name was mentioned in their group chat.”

“But did you see what it said completely?”

“Well…no. But according to Bella, that could be a good thing.”

“Yeah, could, but it could not be.”

“Oh, come on, Seth, you’re bringing us down. You’re supposed to be the cheerful one of us. Paul is Satan-” Jared said, ignoring Paul’s reaction

“Hey!”

“Embry is the awkward one,” he continued,

“I take offense to that…”

“Jake is the lover boy, a self-reserved cupid even,”

“Seriously, man?” Jake whined

“Quil is…well…Quil.”

“Yeah! Wait…” Quil responded, confused.

“You are the cheerful one. And I am the handsome one! We all have a role, and we all need to stick with it.” Jared finishes. I won’t deny that that didn’t put a grin on my face, but what put on a full-blown smile was what I heard not too far from where we were standing in the hallway.

“Hey, there’s your boyfriend,” Orion whispered. Without the enhanced hearing we have now, I would have never heard that in this loud hallway. Then in unison, we all looked in their direction. When I made eye contact with Y/n, I could basically feel the embarrassment flowing off her. She looks towards her laughing friends (who noticed us looking too), nudges Orion, who was off-balanced, who knocks into Kayla and on to the floor. Avoiding our gaze, she smiles and walks towards her class.

“Well, I guess you really don’t have an excuse to not ask her out, huh, buddy,” Paul says, patting my shoulder and walking to class.

“Wait for me, Satan!” Quil says behind him.

When you say that you love 'em And you really know Everything that used to matter, it don't matter no more Like my money, all my cars (You can have it all and) Flowers, cards and candy (I do it just cause I'm) Said I'm fortunate to have you girl I want you to know I really adore you All my people that know what's going on Look at your mate, help me sing my song Tell her I'm your man, you're my girl I'm gonna tell it to the whole wide world Ladies say I'm your girl, you're my man Promise to love you the best I can

All-day today, I had been coming up with a plan to go and talk to her. Paul advised me to meet her after school and just ask her. Believe it or not, he isn’t that bad. He’s an ass, that’s for sure, but out of everyone, he might play jokes on you, but he’s the most honest.

“But how! I’m not you, Satan. I’m a saint, not a sinner.” He gives me a side-eye and rolls them.

“You’re lucky I like you more than the others. Look, she works at the diner, right? Just go to the diner and sit at one of the tables she waits for and start there. Be slow and careful; don’t be like Jared’s dumbass and basically scare her off within the first introduction of meeting each other.” I laugh and nod.

“Thanks, man.” He nods, and we head towards his truck.

After getting home, I talk to my dad for a while and tell him my plan. He was happily surprised at Paul’s advice. I tell him I’ll be back before dinner and head over to the diner. I was tempted to take the shortcut and shift, but I already know Sam will kick my ass. So, I just settle jogging up there. I’ll sike myself out if I think too hard on it.

See I've been there, done it, fucked around After all that, this is what I found Everyone of y'all are just like me It's too bad that you can't see That you got it bad, hey

I make it to the diner and place myself in one of her booths. I can see her talking to Orion while stacking up her tray for the table nearby. After she drops off their food, she heads over to me. I act as if I need to look at the menu and watch her from my peripheral vision and sees she sees me and almost hesitates to come by. She does, and when I look at her, I’m lost for words. I forgot where I was for a few seconds, and I somehow managed to talk first.

“Hi,” I say. She snaps out of it and smiles.

“Hi. Um, hey,”

“Hey.” I smile back.

“Hey, um. So, uh, wha-what can I get for you?” she said softly. I smile and order a double stack burger, some fries, and a Dr. Pepper. And she left to go ring it up and place the order. I pull out my phone to act as if I was busy doing something, and I overhear (not intentionally!) her conversation with Orion.

“Bravo! That was wonderful to watch.” He said, attempting to keep it together. “But if it makes you feel better, he looked like he was lost. If neither one of you had said something, I would have paid you back from earlier and knock you over.” I smiled. I wouldn’t complain about catching her since I’ve already fallen for her.

“Will you shut up. Last time you said something, he and his friends heard it.” She sticks her middle finger at him and brings my drink.

“Here you go. Sorry about that. Is there anything else I could get for you while you wait for your food?” she asked politely.

“No, thanks, though.” As she turns to leave, something without my consent calls her again,

“Wait.” She turns back around, “Do you have the assignment for Mr. Harpender’s class. I haven’t been at school for a while, and my cousin is really strict with getting back on track.” She smiles and nods her head.

“Yeah, I have it in my backpack. I can run out and go get them for you.”

“Sure. But um, it can wait until afterward. I don’t, you know, want to get your notes all messed up or anything.” She smiles and says, ok. Another family comes in, and she excuses herself to help them. I take this time to calm my nerves. Orion brings my food and slides in the opposite booth.

“So, asked her out yet? And don’t give me that look; everyone and the teachers can see how badly you guys like each other. Look, I know you’re shy, and all, but I’m here to inform you that she will say yes, her favorite color is ____, she hates _____, and she thinks, well thought, your long hair was overly luscious and was jealous of you. Anyways, good luck!” he says, but turns around and says, “And if you hurt her, I’ll kill you with a napkin.” And walks away.

Narrators POV

After eating, Seth decided to help Y/n with cleaning the table. He pays for his meal and walks to her car with him. She goes to the trunk of her car to get the notes out for him. She makes sure all is in there and double-checks that it isn’t her doodle notebook containing some secrets and doodles he never should see.

“Here you go! Just, you know, let me know if you need any help. I know sometimes my handwriting can be sloppy, but if it’s hard to read, just tell me.” She says, smiling and closing her trunk.

“Yeah, I will-” a horn goes off, and a female voice is calling towards the two.

“Hey, little shit! Come on! Mom said dinners ready!” Seth rolls his eyes at his sister Leah.

“Sorry about her, that’s my sister Leah. Great, isn’t she?” She smiles and laughs lightly. “but anyways, thanks to Y/n/n. I’ll let you know if I have any trouble. Which, I probably will, but just in case, I’ll let you know. Oh! Before I forget! This is for you.” Seth handed her $5 for gratuity and ran to the truck.

“Thanks! Have a good evening!” and walks into the diner. It wasn’t until she got home and counted her cash that she noticed a piece of a torn off napkin folded inside of the $5. When she opened it, she saw scratchy handwriting that had a set of numbers and a name.

555-123-0987

Text me sometime if you’d like.

-Seth.

“Even when you’re not in person, you manage to be polite and shy.” She shakes her head and takes a leap of faith.

Y/n to Seth: Hey! It's Y/n. Lol, I see you have some tricks up your sleeve. But anyway, how’s the notes coming along?

Seth to Y/n: Hey! Well, you know, I try at least. I have to take my shot. And I assume it’s working? And they’re helpful! I just might need tutoring for the makeup exam.

Y/n to Seth: Lol, I promise, it's working Seth 😊. And sure! I’m off Fridays and Saturdays, and I only work morning shifts on Sundays. Just let me know when, where, and what time.

Seth to Y/n: Good! Cause this would be so embarrassing, and I would beg you to not tell anyone, ha-ha. How about Friday at the library? Afterschool? Or Saturday if that’s better! We could meet at a friend of my place. She’ll even provide snacks 😉.

Y/n to Seth: Ha-ha, Friday is fine. If we need to, we can use Saturday as a touch up/review. I mean if she doesn’t mind…. :/

Seth to Y/n: She won’t, I promise. But I’ll ask to ease your worries 😊

Y/n to Seth: Lol, thanks! Well, imma head to bed. Night Seth!

Seth to Y/n: Night Y/n/n!

Y/n couldn’t help but go to bed easy that night with a smile on her face but a hint of worry in the back of her mind. Whereas she wanted to be happy, she was having a hard time because the thought of her overly religious parents and rude guardians knowing about him would just bring hell. What also worries her is that if she does keep going and they become a thing, would she argue like Taylor and Kennedy?

On the other side of the line was a boy surrounded by his brethren’s making fun of him for texting his imprint. And to all surprises, Sam joined in.

“Oh, leave him alone! I’m glad Seth is with Y/n! She’s an amazing person and perfect for him. And plus, Jared, need I remind you that you were 40 times worse than that?” Emily said. Bless this woman, Seth thought.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the help of Paul, to be honest. I had to channel my inner Paul. Well…the flirty side, or, at least I tried.” Seth said, Paul smiled, and everyone was shocked.

“Satan helped you?” Jake said.

“If someone calls me Satan one more time…”

“Fine, Lucifer.” Jared says, then turns to me, “You really had this guy help you? And not me?”

“The situation with Kim…” was all I said.

“Is everyone going to always bring that up?!” Jared argued.

“Yes.” We all said in unison.

MasterList

21 notes · View notes

windup-dragoon · 4 years

Text

Pain

|| FFXIV write - 2020

|| Prompt #15 - Ache

|| Post ShB - Some years later

|| Kirishimi lore !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Eyriwolk and Lynawyb are Kiri’s adoptive parents who have been missing since the fall of Dalamud

|| Word Count: 2,154

|| In which the Stray becomes broken

>>> Warning!!!! This piece involves mention of slavery, torture, blood, bodily injury and death!!!!!!!!

Ache.

Many types of ache exist in the world.

From the physical ache of old injuries -

His hands, so gnarled and broken over the years, no longer able to thread the line of a fishing pole. Scar tissue marred his face and pulls at the corner of his lip; his back is more broken skin then muscle any more. The once welcomed breeze off the ocean now stings at his injuries and gives him reason to shiver that evening.

He was forced to his knees beneath the glow of a single lantern, a motion that had him murmuring with pain. The years had not been kind to the old captain, the scars that disfigured him could attest. But a hissed growl from the Roegadyn woman at his side had silenced him.

She had promised him freedom. Spoken of his hearts true desire, the only dreams he still clung to so hopelessly in the middle of the night when sleep was outside his grasp. She was not a kind woman, but what else did he have to lose? He was a broken, lonely man, patiently waiting for death to claim him. Oh the sweet embrace it would be; at least he would be reunited with those who had parted before him.

But this offer? This once in a lifetime chance? He saw no other option than to reach for it with both mangled hands. Just maybe it would be enough to breathe life into him once more; to rekindle a spark that had been snuffed out years ago. Time and time again the little flame in his thundering heart had left him. He has suffered so much loss.

“Twelve, please...” He whimpered brokenly to any deity that would hear him. “Give me this at least...”

Just as his captor rose to her feet, a massive ax clutched in her hands, footsteps echoed.

They were along the coastal region of La Noscea to be sure, some long abandoned port that was previously overrun with carnivorous beasts. What were once pristine white buildings were now dilapidated skeletons. The only light casting long shadows was the swaying lantern, rocking listlessly in the breeze. The ebb and flow of the tide beneath the dock seemed to fade with the approach of the stranger; everyone in his company, including himself, held their breath.

From the darkness she emerged, stepping cautiously into the pool of color and light. The dock creaked beneath her footfalls. And all at once, Eyriwolk choked on a strangled gasp.

Snowy white hair glittered beneath the faint lanterns glow; familiar mismatched eyes widening as she looked him over. He would know this girl from a crowd of thousands and it made his broken heart swim for the first time in many moons.

Caution was thrown to the wind as the ran the short distance between them, the jetty beneath them all swaying in the tide. Although shackled still as he was, he raised his bound arms to catch her as she hurled herself to her knees before him, her own arms immediately thrown around his neck.

Scars along the length of his neck and scattered across his now thin shoulders kept him from feeling the sting of tears falling, staining his already tattered and dingy shirt. But he felt her sobs in the way her shoulders hitched; he could hear it in her broken hiccuped voice. His own tears welled and crested over his swollen cheeks.

His daughter. His sweet, beloved daughter.

She had grown since the last he laid eyes on her. From a little pup with a permanent scowl, to a beautiful young woman. He had never known such pride until now.

The woman pulled herself from him, taking his too thin shoulders in her hands and looked him over with bleary eyes.

“Da’...” There was hurt in her voice as she took in what the years without her had done to him. Once a powerful Roegadyn himself, who could eat supper for two without batting an eye and sang sea shanties well into the night with his crew; now little more than skin, bone, and pain.

“She said I could see ya’ again, lass.” Eyri choked on his own voice, the smile on his lips hurting his cheeks. How long had it been since last he smiled?

With this, mismatched eyes lifted from his to stare up at the company he shared.

There had been three others in total. The ax wielding mountain of a woman, Eyri had to double take at the resemblance she shared with his own daughter. A hyuran woman, young and frail who hadn’t spoken a word since they had taken him from his handlers. The way her eyes seemed vacant had unnerved him dearly. And the third, a Garlean man. However, he was more machine and technology than man any longer. Magitek parts kept him together like some old broken toy, a patchwork of metal and weeping flesh.

The roe woman moved between them, her ax breaking their reunion.

Kiri reeled back on her heels, not quite knocked back but still unsettled. “Yer letter,” his daughter ground out as she rose to her feet. So tall she had become, no longer the little pup he had found stranded on some island out at sea. “Ya’ wanted ta’ bargain?”

Her eyes shift between the company. Eyri feels his stomach churn as the conversation begins to fill in the missing pieces he lacked. Why would anyone free a slave to reunite him with lost family? Kindness? Not in this cruel world.

But he had been desperate to see her. At least one last time.

It was the Garlean that advanced next, his movements mechanical and jittery. “My my! You’ve grown!” He announced with a voice filled to the brim with joy and happiness. Did he know Kirishimi? Had Eyri’s assumptions of her past been accurate all these years?

Was Kirishimi Garlean?

But Kiri crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other impatiently. “Sorry, mate, but have we met?” Before she receives an answer, she moves on to her next question. “What do you want?”

“Ah, you waste no time I see. Fair enough.” The Garlean man reaches a hand for Eyriwolk’s head, patting ever so softly at his now silver touched hair. If he had been stronger, younger, Eyri would have taken that hand and cast the man into the ocean in one swift motion. Instead he deigned to grimace. “A trade, my dear Warrior of Light.”

Eyri’s stomach falls. His blood runs cold as ice. His round eyes stare blankly up at his daughter, her stony features and furrowed brow only causing his heart to thunder like drums in his ears. “No-”

“You, for your fathers freedom.”

“No!” Eyri finds his voice at last and calls out with a boom that shakes his core and echoes along the forgotten stonework of the ruined port. His eyes search hers although she does not remove her fixated stare from the Garlean before her. “Kirishimi, you bull headed- Don’t’cha DARE think-”

It is the sound of metal grinding metal that stops him cold. The blade of an ax drags across his shackles, just shy of taking fingers. A practiced swing or a lucky miss; no matter which, the action had startled both he and Kirishimi.

There’s a feral look to her mismatched eyes as she glares and snarls at the roe woman. “Bitch-”

“Not my name,” The woman sighs casually and hefts the ax over her shoulder. “But nice guess.”

“Ladies! Please!” The mechanical man steps to the other side of them. “Lani, take a seat and cool off for a moment, hm?”

There’s a groan of protest, but the woman abides and marches out of Eyri’s sight, no doubt alongside the other girl lurking in the shadows at the edge of the dock.

“Look at your father, dear. The man who raised you. Took you in and cared for you.” The man kneels beside Eyri now, grabbing him forcefully by the chin and tilting his head back. He squints against the light of the lantern but sees the concern glittering in Kiri’s eyes. The tears beginning to shimmer beneath her thick lashes. “He hasn’t much life left to him. Refuse and he will be returned at once to the slaver that neglects him.”

Eyri tries to plead with Kirishimi but his voice is lost to the Garlean man.

“Where’s Lynawyb?” She asks at last, tearing herself to look away from him. “The letter said-”

“Ah. There was a... lack of communication, to put it simply. At the time the missive had been sent, we had the full intention to return both your parents to you.” He says this sorrowfully, as if truly apologizing for the misunderstanding.

Eyri’s heart echoes with a hollow thump in his chest. His wife... His wife...

Kiri lurches forward and grabs the collar of the mans shirt, dragging him to his feet despite the weight of his metal parts. Her lips curl back as a snarl fills the night air. “Where is she?!”

But the man is once more unaffected and merely chuckles. “...Why not ask your father? Eyriwolk, be a sport and tell her?”

Her grip loosens and the man slips away as her eyes slide back down to Eyriwolk. Her lips tremble even as her jaw slackens. “...What?”

“Gods, please!” Eyri fights through a sob that makes his throat hoarse. He casts his eyes away, shaking, his whole body shaking. “She shouldn’t have’ta hear it.” The memory will always be fresh in his mind. From the scent of ash and smoke, to the wails and cries echoed on the wind.

But without telling her, Eyriwolk has already shown her.

Kiri crouches suddenly with a hand to her temple.

Lynawyb, his beloved wife... The woman she called mother...

Eyriwolk’s last memory of her is of a frail woman cradled in his arms. Crimson blossoms across her apron. Blood splutters in her mouth and spills over her lip as she stares up at her husband with hopeful, broken eyes. She had been cut down in an attempt to free themselves, and others, from their hell. Countless others lay motionless around them while the house of their captor burned.

“Don’t’cha cry....” Lyna had whispered. “I’ll go see... Fraethota first... I’m sure she’s waitin’...” Trembling as she was, the dying woman clutches her husbands hand. “...A-And if you see her.... Tell our little pup.... Her ma’ loves her....”

To the ache of the heart-

Hours had come and gone. She tried to drown out the pain as her lip was split from a punch; desperate to busy her mind with thoughts of Hien and the others as she heard her arm snap and Lani curse her to the Hells and back.

Hien...

His coronation was only days away. He had been a child at a carnival with excitement for it as he and his company delighted in the details of the festivities they would have. He would be King or Emperor or something along those lines, Kiri couldn’t focus long enough to remember which it was... But she knew he would be perfect for the job. He would do his father and mother proud while ruling Doma. But... he would have to do it alone.

Eyriwolk...

Kiri tried to forget the events that transpired only hours ago before she had been thrown like cargo onto an airship. The trade agreement had been complete, she should have been elated. Her father was a free man once more. It would be a shell of a life, broken as he was... But what better gift was there than freedom?

The chains at her wrist rattle and slither across the floorboards as she lays herself down. Lani had exhausted herself for the evening, talk of resuming her punishment in the morning was the last Kiri had heard before she slammed the door to her cell and locked it.

Lynawyb...

A sob, painful as it was to even breathe, ripped through Kiri as she lay curled in on herself, knees to her stomach and shackled hands buried against her drumming heart. The echo had granted her one last chance to see Lynawyb alive. All she had ever wanted for all these lonesome years was to know her family was still breathing and living... but what sort of life had that been? How long had Lynawyb been waiting for rescue? How many nights had she stared up helplessly at an expanse of star dusted sky and wished on every falling star for her freedom? Just how many nights... did Lynawyb dream of the day the Warrior of Light... her own daughter... save her from her misery?

Coward...

She had been a coward for not searching for them all these years. Fear of what she might find had kept her from investing herself to the task... And now?

She paid the price...

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrites2020 #CAUTION WHILE READING #Kirishimi #ffxiv #I have plans to turn this into a story but idk ???????#at least her dad is alive right :')))

23 notes · View notes

buns-with-a-book · 4 years

Text

Reflections and Illusions

For Day Six of DMCWeek2020, the prompts chosen this week were Family and Belonging! They’re subjects quite close to our leading lady Cassandra. Cordelia and Anastasia (and the idea for this fic) are all from @furyeclipse

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: OC, Dante, Vergil, Nero (minor role), Kyrie (minor role), Credo (cameo) Tags: @nimnox @astral-space-dragon @harlot-of-oblivion @queenmuzz @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate

Summary: While on a mission, Cassandra hears her name and goes into a strange portal. What she finds is a world she dearly wants but cannot have.

“Jeez, all I wanted was a nice birthday-” Cassandra swiftly dodged out of the way of the demon’s attack. “And you come along to ruin it!” The demon, taking the form of a large black dog, snarled at her. “Come on, you terrible little doggie!” The demon dog let out a ferocious roar, leaping forward. She twirled out of the way, Failnaught impaling itself into the demon’s flank and ripping open a large wound. The demon hit the ground hard, turning into dust. Cassandra spun the sword-cane in her hand, sighing.

“Not how you wanted to spend your birthday?” Dante asked with a cocky grin.

“What gave you that impression?” She huffed. “This stuffy old mansion...jeez, it’s a terrible place for a birthday. Come on, let’s find Nero and Vergil and go get our pay. Maybe that local pizza place is still open at this hour-”

Cassandra…

A voice, strangely siren-like, called for her. She paused and looked around, visibly confused. She looked to Dante, who looked just as confused as she was.

“What’s the matter?”

“I...I just thought I heard someone calling for me.”

Cassandra...

Cassandra closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Maybe I should go take a look around. Just in case there’s something...you know, suspicious. You go find Vergil and Nero.” Dante nodded, silver eyes glancing around. Cassandra nodded at him before dashing off. The sound of the voice calling her was northward, she could feel it. As she dashed through the halls of the abandoned mansion, the call of her name seemed to become louder, a ringing in her head she couldn’t ignore.

Cassandra...

She dashed out the back door, looking around. The grounds were visibly overgrown from decades of neglect. Her eyes fell upon the greenhouse, windows broken and frosted from disuse. She walked over to the greenhouse, carefully opening the glass door. Planters had been thrown out, leaving nothing but a dirt floor. At the other end of the greenhouse, however, was what looked to be a mirror of some kind. It’s stone frame was covered with plants, both in motifs and actual plants. It’s reflective surface shone brilliantly, as if it was untouched by time. Cassandra slowly stepped forward, boots crushing glass and dirt underneath her. As her reflection appeared in the mirror, it seemed to...wobble? Her hand carefully rested on the glass…

And went right through it.

She yelped in surprise, pulling back her hand. She looked at her hand, noticing nothing wrong with it.

Cassandra…!

The voice was more insistent now, overwhelming her senses. Following the call, an intense ringing drowned out everything. She held her head, Failnaught clattering to the ground. The agony pounded at her skull, like a terrible awful migraine she only heard tales of from old women. She stumbled, her foot caught something, before her body fell onto the mirror’s reflective surface.

CASSANDRA!

She half-expected her body to hit the glass, piercing her skin and leaving a nasty cut. To her surprise, her body hit warm grass. She slowly opened her eyes, finding what had once been a gloomy overcast dusk was now a bright sunny day. She let out a pained groan, her head still throbbing.

“My little star!” A voice, a painfully familiar voice, made her eyes snap open. She looked up, seeing someone that should be dead staring back at her: her own mother, Stella Sagefire.

“Mother…?” She whimpered as she felt oddly cool hands help her on her feet. She looked past her, seeing Dante happily grilling like a dad (well he was an uncle, that was close enough). Nero and Kyrie were sitting at a table, happily chatting about something. Next to Nero was Cordelia, beaming at Nero like he was an older brother. Vergil was sitting next to Cordelia, but his eyes were firmly focused on Cassandra. Next to Kyrie was a man she only saw in pictures, her older brother Credo, relaxed and at ease. Her gaze returned to her mother, her hair tied up in a messy bun, strands of golden blond framing her face and clear blue eyes. It looked as if she had never been so deathly sick at all.

“Cassandra!” A second voice, another familiar voice that only made her heart ache as a more youthful woman that was near the same age as her mom stepped forward: Anastasia Faye. Her bright seafoam green eyes stared at Cassandra in worry. Her dark brown black hair went down to her mid-back. A lavender colored ribbon was tied in her hair, similar to how Cordelia put bows in her hair, but her bow was on the left side of her head compared to Cordelia keeping it centered on her head. She wore a rose gold trimmed strapless black dress that went down to her knees and brown boots to match. A necklace around her neck like V's old choker but, instead of a tooth, it was a small charm from outside the walls. She never did find out where she got it from.

“It’s your birthday, Cassandra.” Stella gently explained. “Do you not want to attend your own birthday party?”

“I...I mean...I…” Cassandra lowered her head. Something was wrong, she could feel it in her core.

"Cass sweetie, you getting overwhelmed again? You tripped over your own two feet again." Anastasia chuckled softly as she ruffled her hair. "Hmm no bumps, you're fine."

“I don’t feel fine.” She muttered. What was it that was so wrong about it? She missed her mothers so dearly, she had loved them so, but they were dead. They couldn’t be here, not in this mirror world.

You could just stay here with your mothers, in this perfect world.

That nagging feeling prodded at her, almost tugged on her insistently in her mind. She could stay, with ghosts and echoes all around her.

"You alright there, Sleeping Beauty?" Anastasia asked. She could hear the concern in her voice.

“No, this is all wrong.” She pulled away. Already, the world was starting to fade around them, mixing together like a bad watercolor painting. Despite that, Stella and Anastasia remained clear and pristine in her vision. “You’re dead. You two, you died, you can’t be here!” She didn’t stop the tears from falling down her face, she couldn’t.

Anastasia sighed softly and put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Cassandra, look up at me please." Cassandra let out a soft heaving noise, slowly looking up at Anastasia.

"I made Anastasia bend the rules a bit, again.” Stella admitted sheepishly. “I know that I promised last time I wouldn't but this time, I needed to do it for an important reason: so that your mother and I can see you free and happy, far from Eternis Brillia, happy with the azure Son of Sparda and free from that sorry excuse of a boy Draco. I'm also guessing you found Cordelia as well."

"I'm happy that my Magpie found her way home to you." Anastasia added. “And you’ve found your self confidence again. Make sure that the azure boy knows how much you love him and how happy you are being at his side.”

"I got to finally see you again Cassandra. I'm proud that you've grown up into a confident lady."

Anastasia pulled Stella and Cassandra into a tight warm hug, kissing her head softly. “Happy Birthday Cassandra, please ever don't forget how much we love you. Before I forget, please tell my little magpie, you got her gift.”

“Her gift?” Cassandra asked tearfully. The world around them was nothing but darkness, with only her two mothers still clearly before her. Anastasia kissed the top of her head and smiled softly. Cassandra swore she felt something at her neck, arms hugging her close. “Mom...Mother...tell me, what do you mean?”

“A happy family. People who love her dearly, no matter what.” Anastasia murmured. “And it was something we wanted for you as well.”

“Cassandra, my little star, you cannot stay here.” Stella said, her voice grim. “You have to return back to the azure son, to your family, to our little magpie.” Her and Anastasia’s hand rubbed away the tears that streaked down her face. “Because we weren't strong enough to live, but you are.”

“Mom, Mother, don’t go-” Cassandra suddenly heard the sound of glass shatter before she fell backward, away from the rapidly disappearing images of her mothers. Faintly, she saw her tears fly into the dark abyss...or were they hers?

We will always love you.

She expected to hit the floor, for her arms to be cut by shattered shards of mirrors, but strong arms, Vergil’s arms, caught her and held her up. She blinked, watching as Nero and Dante stared at the remains of the mirror, weapons aloft. The mirror was now just stone and glass on the floor. Nero rushed to her side.

“Mom, are you ok?” Nero asked worriedly. Cassandra nodded, letting Vergil help her onto her feet. “What was that?”

“...a trap. It’s an illusion mirror, from Eternis Brillia. I suppose the last owner was an adherent of the Earthfaith.” Cassandra breathlessly explained. “It was still effective...I…”

“You what?”

“...I saw my mothers.” She said, trying not to cry. She had enough of that for a while, at least. Her gaze rested on the broken mirror. “It wasn’t real. They’re dead. They died years ago.” She took a deep breath, feeling Dante rub his hand against her shoulder. “That’s what the mirror does: it lures you in with what you want the most and traps you in it’s illusions.” A quiet fell between them, all eyes on the broken trap at their feet.

“Hey…” Dante broke the quiet, trying to sound easy-going, as if nothing had happened short of a job well done. “How about we get a pizza?”

“A pizza, Dante!?” Vergil growled. “That’s the last-”

“No no no, I...I’d like something stupidly greasy right now to take my mind off things.” Cassandra looked up to the trio. Dante beamed at the sound of Cassandra taking his side of things. Vergil scowled at the decision before seeming to relent. Cassandra took one last glance to the broken mirror, the damp air silent. It couldn’t be real...right?

And yet, as her hand reached up to realize that a new Rhodonite necklace now hung around her neck, she suddenly wasn’t sure if everything in the broken mirror was illusionary.

#dmcweek2020 #devil may cry #devil may cry oc #devil may cry dante #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry cast

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azwriting · 5 years

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Redemption (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Fourteen

I’m so sorry this took so long to write, I kept debating with myself on how to write it. Anyways I hope you enjoy as we are almost done with this story, only more chapter after this!

Summary: Kylo Ren must face Palpatine before he can find (Y/N), but he needs to be his true self in order to do both.

Warning(s): Mild violence, TROS spoilers (It’s not really spoilers but I based it off of tv spots and what I hope happens in the upcoming movie, I totally understand if some of you wait to read until after seeing the movie!)

Word Count: 6607

Rey took deep ragged breaths, watching the cloud of moisture splash across the floating Death Star wreckage. She knew he was coming, she could sense it, and the next fight about to occur. They had run into each other so much over the past couple days: Pasana, the fight on the Star Destroyer, and now this. It was tiring, the same relentless fight, and she was beginning to lose faith in herself and this battle. “Breathe Rey, just breathe. Let it guide you.” (Y/N)’s disembodied voice reminded her. Stars, she wished she had had more time with her before she disappeared. If she had perhaps she would feel ready to face him again, but Rey knew the truth. She was never ready to face him, not while hope still burned in her.

A large wave crashed over the floating debris when Rey finally saw the red crackling light of his saber through the mist. His towering black figure emerged from the spray of water, his inky black hair stuck to his face. He glared at her with such intensity it caused her to shake with anticipation. Their previous fights would not compare to this, no too much rage was building in them, waiting for this. She knew he was furious with her for taking (Y/N), blamed everyone for ruining their bliss, but he could only truly blame himself. Kylo twirled his saber as he stalked forward and Rey tightened her grip on hers, readying herself for the inevitable.

Kylo sneered at the sight of her, unwelcome painful memories surfacing in response. He had not seen or felt (Y/N) through the Force in so long, not since the night they connected, the night she left. Their combined powers demolishing their sanctuary and their bond. Now he was just as alone as he was before. The only comfort he felt was the fact she was alive, just not with him. A twisted part of him hoped she was nearby, hidden with the Resistance members, and he could get just a glimpse of her face. But did he really want her to see him fight Rey? He knew he did not want her to see this side of him, the last time she had she left. All because he was unwilling to turn. How pathetic he felt, all this power he had accumulated and still he was nowhere near what he truly desired. He shook away the thoughts that plagued him endlessly and swung at Rey.

Rey easily deflected his strike with her lightsaber and the two continued their assault on each other, their inner aggression boiling over. Each hit was meticulous both dominating. She had grown stronger thanks to her brief training with (Y/N) and Leia who had taken over after her mysterious disappearance. She swung her saber forward, spinning into the hit. Kylo moved to strike at her again, but Rey’s hand shout out stopping his lightsaber in mid-air. Kylo struggled against the hold, but he could not free his saber.

“Stop this Ben! Think of (Y/N)!” Kylo’s eyes softened for a moment, his struggling halting. If only she knew how much he did think of her, she never left his thoughts. Her smile, her confessions of love, her embraces, her leaving and denying their love.

He swallowed thickly, “Don’t talk about her, she hates me!” He had dared to ask her to join him even when he swore to himself he never would, not again. That was how he lost her the first time, he never intended to repeat that. Those glowing yellow eyes still haunted him, the look of hurt on her face when he refused to come, the anger that arose when she told him they were nothing. How could she not hate him? He hated himself.

Rey scoffed, her hand still suspending his saber. “Maybe she wouldn’t if you hadn’t put that bounty on her head!”

Kylo shook with anger at her reminder. “I told you I would never do that!”

Rey only rolled her eyes, tired of his lies, her hand releasing his saber. She knew she was not going to break through to him, not when he continued to deny everything. Kylo was quick to resume his attack on her, his pain driving his assault forward. Rey dodged it and the two fought across the wreckage, wobbling at the shift in the water and slippery surface. Clash after clash the two were relentless as Kylo heard a soft echo from beyond.

“Ben.” The voice was soft, he knew it better than his own, (Y/N). The distraction tore his attention away from the fight, his brown eyes scanning the waters for the (Y/H/C) he loved so dearly. Was she here? He found nothing beside the traitorous Stormtrooper and another young woman standing beside him, their eyes trained back on them. She was not here, he knew that.

A loud groan escaped his lips as he crumbled down, Rey’s lightsaber retracting from his side. He fell slack to the surface of the Death Star in pain, Rey hovering over him, breathing harshly as her eyes observed him intensely. She looked regretful despite it all, but an upset almost dark edge worked its way into her voice as she spoke.

“How could she ever love you?” Rey spit, distraught over the fact that her friend was hiding from him, whether he had mandated the order or not. (Y/N) was missing because of him and she could not even have the satisfaction of telling him. No, she promised Leia he would never find out, for (Y/N)’s sake. According to the lie she told him on Pasana, (Y/N) was stuck on base because she was a danger to the Resistance the minute she left. All because of the bounty he denied putting on her, claiming he would never force him to join him. Kylo’s defeated eyes stared back up at her, pain clear in them. She wondered if it was from his wound or her words. She almost asked, wanting to dig the knife in deeper, but instead she turned to leave him to rot, to leave him with his overpowering regret.

Kylo watched as Rey vanished into the crashing waves, the former Stormtrooper and woman escaping with her. “I don’t know.” His answer went unheard as he dropped his head back onto the metal. He closed his eyes at the burning sensation in his side, savoring in the feeling of the pain. He had felt so numb since she had left, this seemed to be the only reminder he was alive. But what was considered living? This was no life. This constant anger, regret, and sadness that lived in him was not what life was. He had struggled with the inner darkness his whole life, he could not recall a time before the dark thoughts, but had fought them for her. His light, oh how he had let her down. Yes they had been young naive children but he still loved her as much as he did the day they said their vows. Yet, the darkness had grown, he was manipulated all these years by power-hungry Dark side users, becoming the fearsome Kylo Ren in return. He had made so many mistakes, so many things to atone for. But was he too late?

“It’s not too late.” A deep voice called out to him. Kylo opened his eyes and sat up, his burning wound making itself known once again. His dark eyes tried to focus on the image in front of him, but it was difficult. It looked like a man, but something was off about him. Kylo blinked his eyes once again, trying to fight the dizziness, finally honing in on the man before him. He was edged by an ethereal blue light, his body not fully solid. His light brown hair was curly, blue eyes watching him with a small scar running down his right eye. He wore brown and taupe colored Jedi robes and a stoic expression. He was familiar, Kylo knew him from somewhere, but still was unsure of who the Force Ghost was standing in front of him.

“Who are you?” His voice was thick with skepticism, eyeing the ghost strongly. His grip tightened on his lightsaber even if he knew it would do the ghost no harm.

The man laughed at him, a deep true laugh, eyes never straying from his. “You already know Ben.” Kylo furrowed his eyebrows, no he did not. He would not have asked if he did.

He shook his head in defiance, “No I’m afraid I don’t.” The man only grinned, Kylo was unsure what was so amusing about all of this. Was this even real? Perhaps his pain had made him black out, why else would a former Jedi be standing before him?

“You’re as stubborn as your grandmother,” The man paused quirking an eyebrow at Kylo, “I’m Anakin Skywalker.” The name vibrated deep inside Kylo, the air knocked from his lungs. He was silent staring wide-eyed at the ghost, the ghost of his grandfather, the Chosen One. The Jedi who became the fearsome Lord Vader, a Dark side Force user. How was he in the Netherworld? Adorned in Jedi robes nonetheless?

“How?” Was all he could muster out, still in disbelief. Anakin’s smile dropped, swallowing thickly before beginning.

“I turned to the Dark side, that much is true, but as my children neglected to tell you is that I turned back.” Kylo was flabbergasted, the man who’s legacy he had chased, idolizing, had turned back to the Light before death? He felt as if he was intertwined in a web of lies, not knowing where one started and ended.

“Ben it’s not too late.” His grandfather reiterated, bending down to Kylo and his hand stretching out. Kylo felt his side begin to tingle and soon the burning was gone. He was healed! He looked up to his grandfather his bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly, tears in his eyes.

“Isn’t it though? I’ve done so much damage.” Anakin only shook his head, a soft smile on his face.

“No it’s never too late. Turn back to the Light Ben and put an end to all of this as I failed to do so all those years ago.” Kylo shook under his gaze, absorbing his words. These voices had controlled him, isolated him from his family, until he no longer existed, and only a shell was left. He had put so much blame on everyone else when he needed to realize who was truly at fault. Yes, he had been coerced to the Dark side by other events, but one pulled the strings behind the curtain. He grew angry at the realization at the darkness that surrounded his life, his family, all because of one. This needed to end, the accumulation of events over the decades, through the generations, all led to this.

Kylo nodded closing his eyes. He felt the light inside him grow, he willed it to. He stopped fighting allowing for his true self to break free. No more chasing the past, chasing the legacy of the Skywalker name. No he would do just as young (Y/N) had told him, be himself. He thought of his mother, the woman who loved him so much, even through all the torture he had put her through. He thought of his father, the man who sacrificed himself in hopes that it would save his son. He thought of his uncle, the man who cared so deeply for nephew’s future that he was scared, and Kylo had mistaken it for fear of him. He thought of (Y/N), his wife who had stood by his side and loved him endlessly despite his mistakes. The woman who had fought for him when he felt no one else had. He would fight for them now, to bring this all to a conclusion.

The barricades of the darkness shattered into millions of tiny pieces and he inhaled sharply, free. “So much awaits you my dear boy, you have no idea.” His eyes opened to watch as his grandfather stood back up and Ben Solo rose with him.

Ben and Rey stood next to each other, eyes up and observing the haunting figure perched on his throne chair. Emperor Palpatine. The Sith Lord Ben’s grandfather sacrificed himself to kill, who somehow cheated death. The man who had toyed with his family for too many generations. It would end now.

“Everything I have planned is coming together at long last.” The Emperor's raspy voice croaked out. His beady yellow eyes watched them almost tauntingly, but Rey and him held strong, ignited lightsabers gripped tightly. “I planned for such different outcomes for you both though. Dear Rey you were suppose to give into the darkness in you and you!” His bony finger pointed accustionally at Ben. “You weren’t supposed to turn back. I had made sure of it. I killed that girl’s parents just to ensure it would all go accordingly!” Ben’s stance faltered at the wicked man’s words. His stomach dropped, hoping he did not mean who he thought. The Emperor only laughed his menacing laugh, “You have too much of your grandfather’s heart in you, I knew love would be your undoing just as it was his.”

Ben gulped, he could feel Rey’s eyes on him as well. Had Palpatine forced (Y/N) and him together? Was they’re love all a dark lie? Something he conspired to turn him? Ben felt sick, he could not stomach the thought. First the Emperor had killed her parents to draw them together and then he made them fall in love? Was any of his life his?

An evil cackle tore him away from his spiraling thoughts, “You are naive boy, you two were already destined I only gave it a push. You two were created to be the great balance of the Force, but when your darkness rose and the girl shut herself out, the Force had to find its balance.” Ben’s eyes drifted over to Rey’s, his equal because of (Y/N) shutting the Force out. “It only makes sense young Skywalker. The great-niece of the Jedi Master who found the prophesied Chosen One, and you the grandson of the Chosen one, fall in love. It’s quite poetic actually. It’s a shame I wanted her to die here too, but it seems the First Order is unreliable in finding an asset for their Supreme Leader.” The Emperor teased and Ben tightened his grip on the saber, done with his jesting. The reason there was a bounty on (Y/N)’s head from the First Order coming to light, of course Darth Sidious had been behind it, just like everything else. Temporary relief flooded him though, at the consolation that no evil had binded (Y/N) and him together, but it faded as he thought of that same evil seeking her out to kill her. Now all he needed to do was to fulfill his destiny.

The two advanced forward before lightning emitted from the Emperor’s fingers sending them both down to the ground. Rey and Ben writhed in pain from the lightning, his thoughts immediately going to (Y/N). He feared he would never see her again, never get to apologize and confess how much he loved her. He feared that he would die here and the Emperor would find and kill her. This was how the Skywalker story would end along with the whole galaxy. His eyes drifted over seeing Rey convulsing in pain too, trying to fight against the Emperor. He wanted to close his eyes, he could not fight against the draining pain anymore, but something illuminated by the lightning caught his attention. Just beyond their bodies stood the Force Ghost of Luke Skywalker, his grandfather, and a white-haired old man.

“Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi. Your destiny.” Luke encouraged him and the two other men nodded.

“Your journey nears its end.” The Emperor cackled, unaware of the three men standing to the side. Ben felt a wave of energy, power, encompass him. Generations of Jedi now coursing through him. Gritting his teeth he pushed himself up onto his trembling legs, his movement shocking Palpatine, his assault stopping on them both.

“No!” Ben’s voice boomed across the dark throne room.

The Sith Lord only snickered and snapped his fingers back outwards, lightning pouring from them once again. Only this time Ben caught it, his hands absorbing the energy Palpatine bestowed upon him unwillingly. The Emperor halted immediately, eyes wide in fear. “I’m a Jedi like my grandfather before me and I will finish what he started!” With that Ben released the lightning, Palpatine letting out a shriek of pain. Ben continued on only relinquishing once Palpatine perished into nothing once and for all.

He stumbled back, gasping for air, his hands still tingling. He looked to his side seeing the three smiling Force Ghosts fade away, destiny fulfilled. “Something wonderful has happened.” He heard his grandfather’s voice whisper before they were truly gone from sight. Once they were gone, Ben helped a weak Rey stand up. He wanted to apologize for everything, for all the fighting he had caused, but instead the two shared a soft smile.

“Let’s go home.”

Ben climbed out of his ship, the warmth of the jungle planet enclosing around him as he watched Resistance members run and embrace each other. The whole Resistance and galaxy celebrating the defeat of the First Order, most not even aware of the battle that occured against Darth Sidious. Stars, he did not even know that the Resistance had taken down the First Order during their confrontation with the Sith Lord. Rey climbed out of her ship and quickly hugged the former Stormtrooper, Finn as he called himself now, along with the pilot Poe. Both of the men’s eyes flickered over to his looming presence nervously. Kylo Ren returned from the Dark? It was an impossible thought supposedly. Turning from them, his brown eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the one thing that could make him forget all the horrors. He was nervous would she even speak to him? He begged the Force she would.

“She’s not here.” A familiar voice called up to him. Ben broke away from his search of the crowds to the short woman who stood below him. Tears had gathered in her brown eyes and he felt his eyes well up with tears as well. “Ben.” She whispered, unsure. He knew she could sense the Light in him, but she was afraid to get her hopes up.

“Mom.” He croaked, collapsing down into her arms. Leia attempted to wrap her arms around his wide torso as they both cried into each other. He was always so consumed by his hatred for his father and uncle or his longing for (Y/N), he often disregarded his mother, the woman he loved most. They stayed locked in each other’s arms for awhile, ignorant to the observing eyes and celebrating heroes. It was only then that the meaning of her first words dawned on him.

Ben pulled back abruptly, “What do you mean she’s not here?” His mother sighed heavily; Rey, Finn, and Poe approaching in the background, melancholy expressions on each of their faces.

“She’s gone Ben.” His heart plummeted. Gone? Surely she did not mean gone, gone? No he would have felt her leave the world, Rey would have told him, gave something away.

“Where did she g-go?” He risked, uncertain he was ready for the answer. She was not dead, no he refused to believe it.

“I don’t know. One morning we all woke to find her quarters empty and her X-Wing gone. No note, no nothing.” His mother explained, the three Resistance members hesitantly nodding along. A weight lifted from his shoulders, she was alive just not here.

“When was this?” The leather of his gloves creaked not from anger but anxiety. Was she okay? Was she safe? “A month after she got back.’ Rey answered, sharing a careful look with Leia.

Ben’s eyes widened in fear, “That was five months ago!” His mother nodded, a glimmer hidden in her eyes as she placed a gentle hand to his upper arm. “Ben relax, she’s safe.”

“So you say.” Poe mumbled under his breath, but Ben still caught it. He shot the pilot a glare, but he only looked like a scared boy, eyes wide with tears.

“It’s her Dameron!” Leia interjected, squeezing Ben’s arm in the process. He furrowed his eyebrows turning back to his mother. “What’s her?” Leia smiled softly, “Come, I have something to show you.”

The group stalked through the command center, the celebrating eyes turning to Ben. His black attired made him stick out like a sore thumb. He did not care though, their confusion and fearful thoughts bared him no discomfort, he needed to find (Y/N). “Connix! Pull up the FMN 1219 files please!” His mother shouted and a young woman with dirty blonde hair stopped her chattering and proceeded to gather the files on a nearby datapad. Ben watched as the young woman handed the datapad to his mother, Connix looking familiar for some odd reason. He could not place it. “Once a month we receive encoded messages using the Resistance code.” His mother informed him, squinting down at the screen in her hands.

“How do you know they are from her?” Leia let out a short laugh, handing him the datapad.

“They only ever say one thing…” The datapad displayed five decoded messages, one for every month she had been away. She was right, it was only one word sent every single time, Lele. Ben let out a quiet chuckle it was her, she was okay. Leia smiled up at him, enjoying the sound of the laugh she missed so much. Over the past decade she had only been graced with his screeching by Tie Fighter.

“Where is she?” Ben questioned, looking to his mother expectantly.

The woman winced slightly, “That is a mystery. The messages don’t transmit coordinates, only the transponding datapad she’s been using to send them.”

“Okay so message her, ask her where she is!” Ben instructed pushing the datapad into his mother’s hands. She only fought against him, shoving it back into him.

“I did Ben, a few weeks ago. I was planning on visiting her, but to prevent anyone from intercepting the message,” She meant him, the First Order, “She sent me a riddle. One I haven’t been able to solve.” He exhaled loudly at that, why would he assume she would make it easy to find her? He wished she would reconnect to the Force, then maybe he could connect with her, and find her that way. But that was a hopeless thought, she still thought he was Dark. Leia’s nimble fingers swiped the screen to reveal a separate decoded message. “ P10to9raph.” Ben assessed the word and numbers, pulling the latter from the word. 10 and 9, Photograph.

Ben ran through the meadows surrounded by glistening waterfalls, glad to finally be free of the stuffy delegate chambers his mom had dragged the family to. “Ben!” He heard a soft voice laugh out behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the small braids of (Y/N) flopping around as she chased after him. He let out a chuckle, choosing to tease her instead of slowing down.

“Keep up (Y/N)!” He heard her let out a huff and her feet pick up, until he heard the sound of something tumbling. Halting immediately, Ben turned to see her lying face down in the grass. His stomach flipped afraid she was hurt. Running back he dropped down into the grass beside her, his mother shouting to see if she was alright. His hands shakily reached out to roll her onto her back, nervous about what he would see. The first thing he saw was her white teeth as she wore a sheepish grin. Ben let out a sigh of relief, he could not fathom the thought if something happened to her because of him.

“I fell.” (Y/N) giggled out and he could only laugh in return, glad she was okay.

“So clumsy!” Ben chastised, pulling her back up to her feet.

“Kid’s come here, Han take a photo of us!” Ben and (Y/N) groaned looking to his parents sitting on a blanket just above on a hill.

“Coming Mom!”

“Coming Lele!” (Y/N) smiled briefly before she pushed him and raced back towards Leia. Ben only smirked chasing after her, his best friend.

“We don’t know what she means.” Rey informed, both her and Leia observing the screen intently.

Ben smiled down at the datapad, it was as if she had written the puzzle just for him. “But I do.”

His heavy boot tapped impatiently against the floor of the Millenium Falcon, his father’s ship...The ship he had grown up on. When was the last time he had been on here?

Ben sat at the round table, head hanging down watching the ground, as his troubling thoughts plagued him. His clammy hand clasped tightly inside (Y/N)’s, both seeking comfort. He could sense her excitement her joy of the occasion, the last thing he wanted to do was bring her down, but he needed to confess. “They’re only sending us away because of me.” He mumbled, his black curls falling in front of his eyes. It was an accident, he had gotten upset one night, he never meant to break the table.

“No they want us to become Jedi, to master the ways of the Force!” She corrected him, her bright smile that usually could make him feel better, only seemed to deepen his frown. There was a side to him, a dark voice that seemed to beckon him closer, taunting him with unjust things. He tried to fight it but it only seemed to grow louder the older he got. He was fearful of himself and so was his loved ones.

“N-No… my p-parents are scared, scared of m-me, of this part hidden in me.” He kept his head down as he felt his eyes water. The smaller hand holding his squeezed tightly beckoning to look up at her. (Y/N)’s held a look of certainty, strength, and determination. He felt the voice diminish inside at the sight of it.

“Well I’m not Ben.” He sat up quickly and pulled her into a hug, feeling relieved. She was not afraid of him so maybe he did not need to be afraid of himself either.

It had been so long, so much changing over the years, beside the ship. It still looked as rundown as when his dad used to take (Y/N) and him flying. Just the thought of her had the nerves jolting alive underneath his skin, every hair standing on edge. Would she even see him? Would she forgive him? He had let her down so many times, it was disheartening. Even if she wanted nothing to do with him anymore, something he would painfully accept, he still needed to express how sorry he was. He would walk away if it's what she wanted. He wondered if she was happy, if she had forgotten him and moved on with life? A part of himself did not want to intrude on that contentedness, but he needed to see her, making sure she was alright. And if she would take him back, he would never let her go again.

Ben still could not process the fact that she left. It was unlike her to abandon anything or anyone especially her beliefs or cause. There had to be more to the story, things his mother and Rey did not know. He let out a loud sigh, fisting his dirty black hair wishing he could sense her in the Force for the second time today, just something to ease his conscience.

“You know I don’t feel her either.” A soft voice spoke. Ben picked his head off the wall to find Rey standing in front of him. Leia, Poe, and Finn were walking up the ramp behind her. He had been unaware of the new company on the ship. Poe gave him a glare as he moved past them to the main hold, Finn and his mother following. Ben could sense the immense blame the pilot put on him. He was right, he had been the cause of many problems, especially the worry for (Y/N) embedded in everyone, despite her messages. Rey still had her eyes locked on him, an empathetic smile on her face.

“She cut herself off.” He answered with a simple shrug. (Y/N) had cut herself off from the Force to hide from him, to sever the connection they had been repairing.

Rey exhaled deeply, “Yes, but it’s as if the Force is guarding her.” Ben furrowed his eyebrows at the idea. It was possible… It would explain why he never realized she was alive, why he never saw premonitions of her alive, or why he never saw her inside Poe’s mind. But if he had turned back why was it still hiding her?

Um,” Rey cleared her throat gaining his attention once again, “Chewie is still resting in the med bay so I could use a co-pilot?” Ben’s eyes widened, staying silent, and Rey took that as a bad thing. “Poe could do it if you don’t want to, but I just figured you’d like to and since you know where she is.” She squabbled, fidgeting in place. He sensed her unease, surely not use to having a conversation with him without their lightsabers ignited.

Ben smiled slightly at her rambling, “Sure.” Rey nodded not attempting to hide the large smile that appeared on her face.

“Okay great I’ll be right there.” He offered her a half nod and awkwardly roamed down the hall towards the cockpit.

Rey let out a relieved sigh and turned to find Leia exiting the main hold. The woman seemed obviously cheerier; the war was just about over, diplomatic solutions and the official statement of surrender from the First Order the only thing that remained, her son had returned from the darkness, and now they were on their way to find her surrogate daughter, who turned into her daughter in law. Rey still was a little dumbfounded by the fact (Y/N) and Ben were married, she almost did not believe Poe when he told her about the rings he saw on their fingers. “Why did you lie to him? You told me you saw (Y/N) just before she left.” Rey whispered.

Leia only smiled, “He can’t know the truth Rey, not yet. He must see it for himself.”

Rey was confused, “It?” Leia only put a finger to her lips and walked away, still smiling to herself. She decided to dismiss it for the time being, knowing the truth would be revealed shortly, and walked down the hall to the cockpit.

Inside the small room, Ben sat in the pilot seat, his gloves and cape removed and placed messily onto the seat behind him. His hands hovered over the control wheel as if he was afraid to touch it. He seemed to be deep in thought and Rey had a sneaking suspicion as to why. “Are you okay?” Her question startled him right out of the seat, his head hitting the low ceiling. He turned to face her, his face bright red like a child caught doing something they were not supposed to be.

“Um, I can move-” Rey cut him off gently pushing him back down into the seat. His eyes were wary, his body stiff in the seat.

“Relax Ben,” She urged sitting down in the co-pilot seat, “Where to?” Ben let out a deep breath, his ungloved right hand gently caressing the curve of the control wheel. He was quiet, sinking into the comfort of the chair, burying the regret he felt bubbling over in his chest.

“Set course for the Chommel sector in the Mid-Rim.” He stated, confidence edging its way back into his tone. Rey saw it then and there, glancing over at him, the son of Han Solo.

“Right away Captain.” She teased punching in the coordinates.

Landing on the upper hill in a clearing, Ben was quick on his feet. He ran past the group exiting the main hold and out of the ship before the ramp had even touched the plush grass. The bright sun shining up above welcomed him with a kiss of a warm summer breeze. To his right was a white and orange X-Wing with vast green vines, shrubs, and weeds growing all over it. She was here, he was right. Without a second thought, he took off down the hill towards the towering villa just beyond.

Leia and the trio watched all wearing smiles, “Give him a minute.” Ben booked down onto the cobblestone and was entranced by the spectacular Varykino. It looked just as it did the last time he was here.

Ben fidgeted nervously with the collar of his black tunic, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the Minister. He did not dare turn around either, he could not face his mother’s tears of happiness. He loved the woman dearly but a part of him wished they could have done this secretly. Something the two of them could share, no one else intruding on the intimate moment. But the thought dissipated as he heard the soft chimes in the surrounding trees, feeling a pure aura behind him. He was quick to turn, his breath stolen, and heart stopping immediately. (Y/N)’s glowing figure walked towards him, her white lace dress caressing the cobblestone as if it was kissing it’s long lost lover. Her smile was transfixing along with the rosy blush to her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes. He was so utterly in love with her it physically hurt. And soon she would be his wife, his for eternity just as it was meant to be. The vows he had memorized proved to be true, his entire universe resided in her.

Ben rushed into the house, finding no one on the lower level. Taking two stairs at a time, he found himself on the third floor, his heart racing desperate to find her. He stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, contemplating which way to go when he felt a gentle breeze run through his hair, originating to his right. Entering the one bedroom, he found the large wooden door leading to the balcony open. His heart seized in his chest as he quietly stepped forward, his fear of how this would go surfacing once again. Silently he exited back outside onto the large open balcony, finding a sight that made his throat tighten. Beneath the three large archways, pressed against the hand carved stone railing was (Y/N).

Her back was to him as she watched the blue of the sky merge with the blue of the water, her turquoise dress almost blending in with the scenery. The love of his life completely unaware of him behind her. His lips were sealed as he stepped closer, drinking in her presence, and the odd feeling that enclosed around her. It was almost unnoticeable, barely a trace of it in the Force, the Force most definitely shielding her. His lips parted, trying to conjure up what to say. He had told himself that if she never wanted to see him again he would obey her wish, but now standing this close to her, he could not fathom ever leaving her again. “(Y/N).” His voice was very audible, but he knew she heard him. Her stature seemed to stiffen, her head slowly turning to the side to peer back at him. Her eyes held a look of fear as she stared back at him, her hands roughly clinging to the stone keeping her body turned away from him.

(Y/N) looked to his brown eyes, finding every ounce of regret the galaxy had to offer being held within them. He stepped closer, tears cascading down his dirty cheeks. He was filthy, looking to have been to hell and back. “I’m so sorry.” He cried out taking another step closer. Her eyebrows pinched together, reading the difference in him. This was not the Kylo she had left six months ago, no this was someone else, someone who she loved dearly.

“Ben?” Her voice shook as he let out a sob of relief at the sound of her. He nodded rapidly, his curls bouncing with him.

“Yes it’s Ben. Your Ben.” (Y/N) was still hesitant, gripping the stone till the pads of her fingertips turned white. She needed to be sure this was her Ben and not the Supreme Leader of the First Order. Her (Y/E/C) eyes fluttered shut, willing herself to reconnect to the Force. She knew Ben could feel the surge of energy and life that emitted from her and in return she could feel the Light flourishing inside of him. Her eyes sprung open filled with tears, a soft cry escaping from her lips. Her hands slid off the stone and she slowly turned to face him, her heart racing.

“Ben.”

She turned to face him, uttering his name with her sweet voice. Her smile was hesitant though, her eyes gauging him for some sort of reaction. His eyes drifted down the flowy turquoise fabric of her dress, gold details intertwined into as well, his eyes stopping in shock. He could not seem to form a single word, his eyes trying to blink away the heavy onset of tears that streamed down his face.

A large bump protruded from (Y/N)’s abdomen, the dress beautifully covering it. He eyed her carefully, closing the distance, his ungloved hands hesitantly reaching outwards. His fingers delicately caressed the large curve of her stomach, resting it in the middle, a watery laugh echoing out from his lips. He could feel the life surging out from beneath her skin, the life calling out to him. He could feel (Y/N) and himself blended so perfectly, he could only cry more.

“That’s why you left.” Ben whispered, eyes flickering back up to hers. (Y/N) nodded, her hand resting on top of his.

“I wanted you to know, I did, but-” Ben cut her off, pressing one finger to her lips.

“I understand, I do. I love you so much and I will spend the rest of my life making it all up to you.” He promised her, cupping her face gently. His eyes pleadingly looked down at her, hoping she would let him do that, let him be a loving father and husband.

“I know Spaceboy, I know.” Ben laughed and so did she, before he pulled her into a long-awaited kiss. Ben now could never leave her, nor did he ever want to. This was his entire universe now.

Ben pulled back abruptly, his longer fingers dipping down the front of his black tunic, that only felt so constraining now. He pulled out a black necklace, two rings tied tightly to the end of it. (Y/N) sniffled at the sight, she was never far from his heart, despite it all. Ben quickly untied to the two rings and slid the silver band onto her awaiting finger, doing the same with his. The two were quick to pull each other back into a kiss, their tears mixing together as they melted together once and for all, the awaiting life secured between them and their everlasting love.

Taglist:

@benpeggycartersolo

@2heures

@thephantomwriter

@thefandomzoneisdangerous

@carol-chann

@gambitsqueen

@pancakefancake

@zaneholtzwrites

@moonmama03

@siren-queen03

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #star wars series #star wars imagine #Adam driver x reader

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years

Text

Namjoon Scenario| You grow distant from each other and go stay at your parents house

You hadn’t seen Namjoon for quite some time. Between his late nights at the studio and his duties as BTS leader you can’t remember the last time he came home while you were still awake. You had begged him to try and come home tonight, just so you could at least eat dinner together or spend some time together but you got a text message that once again, he wouldn’t be able to make it home. He told you not to wait up for him. You threw your phone onto the bed and began to cry. You missed him so much and you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just spare you an hour. In your frustration you couldn’t help but start throwing your clothes in a suitcase. You figured Namjoon wouldn’t even notice you were gone since he never saw you anyway so you didn’t bother texting him or leaving a note. You called your parents, letting them know you were coming back home for a while.

“Sweetie is everything okay?”

“Yeah, mom. Everything is fine. I just miss you guys.”

“Alright well be safe honey your father and I are always happy to see you.”

You take your suitcase in hand and walk to the front of the apartment, taking one last glance around the place that had once made you feel at home. You quickly realized that this place didn’t feel like a home at all without Namjoon in it.

You arrived at your parents home, your mom and dad both welcoming you in with open arms. You hug them tightly, now realizing just how much you missed them. Your mom takes your bag for you and steps inside. You go to walk in too but your dad stops your with a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and glance at him.

“Everything okay kiddo?”

“Yeah, everything is fine why?”

“You don’t seem like it. You know you can’t lie to me right? I’ve known you for so long and I can tell when you aren’t being honest.” You feel a tear threatening to slip out but you take a deep breath and will it away.

“Just.. problems with Namjoon. I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s okay.”

“Of course. But you know me and your mother are always here for you when you’re ready okay?” You nod and enter your childhood home, immediately feeling comforted by all of the familiar sights and smells around you. Your mom has made your favorite meal and you can’t wait to eat it. You catch up with your family, talking about anything and everything. They wanted to know about your life, how things were going with Namjoon. When your mom asked you that she saw the expression change on your face and she quickly changes the subject.

After dinner you are sitting on the couch watching a movie when your phone starts ringing. You see Namjoon’s contact photo show up, a picture of the two of you together. You debate answering it before turning your phone over and continuing to watch the movie. Your parents both look at you from the side of their eyes, but you ignore it. A few moments later your phone goes off again. You sigh and put it on silent.

“Sweetie I don’t really know what’s going on between you two, but maybe you should answer? Did you even tell him you were coming here?”

“No..”

“At least let him know you’re safe?” You huff and are about to protest before you realize your mom is right. You pick up your phone and send a quick text to Namjoon.

I’m staying at my parents house. I’m safe so don’t worry about me.

Why did you go there and not tell me? Is everything okay?

I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.

What does that mean? When are you coming home?

That place hasn’t felt like home to me for quite some time now.. I don’t know.

Your phone starts ringing again before you shut it off, not wanting to deal with the situation anymore. You don’t even notice you’re crying until your dad is hugging you.

“Y/n what happened? Something has you really upset and worked up and we can’t help you unless you tell us.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice.

“Namjoon has just been so busy lately and I haven’t seen him in almost a month. I begged him to just give me one night to spend with him and he couldn’t even do that. I just got tired of coming back to an empty house, sleeping in an empty bed. I couldn’t take it anymore I just needed to get away.”

You mom gives you a sympathetic look but she doesn’t push you further. She hugs you and reassures you that everything will be okay.

“That man loves you y/n. He probably misses you so much and is worried sick about you. I know it’s hard but.. I’m sure he’s not trying to avoid you on purpose.”

“I know mom.. but I really did miss you guys and have been wanting to visit anyway.”

“You know you’re always welcome here. But I think you should try to make things right with him tomorrow at least.” You nod, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Go to bed dear. We can talk more in the morning.” You trudge upstairs leaving your phone on the table and collapse into bed, instantly falling asleep.

Downstairs your dad is looking at your phone at the table. He picks it up and your mom scolds him for snooping.

“I’m not snooping, I’m just trying to help our daughter.” He turns your phone on and guesses your pass code on the first try. He searches through your contacts until he finds Namjoon’s number. He answers immediately.

“Baby I’m sorry I’ve just been so busy lately but I need you. Please come home.”

“Um.. I’m not y/n. Sorry this is her dad I just wanted to talk to you for a moment I hope that’s okay.” Namjoon clears his throat and tries to collect himself, realizing he just accidentally called your father baby.

“Of course sir.” Your dad chuckles into the phone.

“Listen, Namjoon. I like you. I think you’re the best man for my little girl even despite the fact that you hurt her-”

“I didn’t mean to I’m sorry..”

“Can I finish?”

“Yes sir.. Sorry sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir no need to be so formal. You’re practically family at this point.” Namjoon can’t help but smile at your dad’s comment. “So anyway. Y/n is hurting but she misses you dearly even if she won’t admit it. I really hope you two can make things right.”

“I’m going to try my best. I’d do anything to earn her forgiveness. I haven’t been meaning to neglect her. I’ve just been so busy with work.”

“I know, I understand. But sometimes we need to make more time for those that mean the most to us you know? Even if you can’t always come home, just try to make her feel loved and cared for you know?”

“I will.. I promise.”

“Thank you for not giving up on her.”

“I would never. I love y/n so much. More than anything.”

“Good! I’ll try to convince her to come back home tomorrow then.”

“Oh no you don’t have to do that! I’m sure you want to spend time with your daughter.”

“It’s fine. We’ll just plan a visit to come see you all soon. Sound good?”

“Yes.. thank you again.” Your dad hangs up the phone and sets it back down on the table. Your mom is looking at him with a shocked look on her face.

“What? You want y/n to be happy don’t you? Making sure that boy doesn’t give up on her is the first step.”

You sleep in the next day until the afternoon. You drag yourself out of bed and walk down the stairs, rubbing your eyes to try and rid them of sleep.

“Well look who finally decided to join the land of the living!” Your dad yells. You laugh and sit down at the dining room table.

“Morning honey! I’m making pancakes for you. Your favorite kind.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“So.. pancakes first then we get down to business.” Your dad says. Your mom places a plate full of pancakes in front of you and you dig in, savoring the taste.

“What business?”

“Namjoon business.”

“Dad I-” He holds his hand up and shushes you.

“Just listen to me. I talked to Namjoon yesterday-”

“You what?!”

“Shhh, let me finish! I talked to him yesterday. To find out what’s been going on. And he is extremely apologetic and misses you too much. I could hear by how broken his voice sounded. He wants you back home. Although you always have a home here with me and your mother, Namjoon is where your home is.”

“But he’s never there.. That’s why I can’t go back it’s not a home to me right now.”

“He promised to do better. And you don’t make a promise to your girlfriend’s father unless you intend to keep it come hell or high water.” You ponder your dad’s words and realize he’s right. “Just give him another chance?” You nod.

“I guess I should pack my things then. I should probably head back home then.. to Namjoon. I was intending to stay for much longer than this and you somehow convinced me to go back home in less than a day. You guys don’t miss me at all do you?” You tease them but your mom looks appalled that you would even suggest that they don’t miss you. “I’m joking, mom. And thank you dad.”

You decided to stay for a little bit longer and return home in the evening after dinner. You open the front door to the apartment, not expecting anyone to be home at all. You hear a loud crash coming from the bedroom and you jump thinking maybe someone had broken in. You run to the kitchen about to grab a knife to defend yourself until you see a familiar face peek around the corner.

“Y/n.. baby you’re back.” He runs over to give you a hug but then stops himself, not wanting to rush things if you were still upset with him. You hold your arms out to him when you see his hesitation to let him know it’s okay. He holds you gently, like he’s afraid if he holds you too tightly you’ll disappear.

“Hi Joonie. I missed you.” He smiles at you and kisses your forehead.

“I missed you too. So so much. I'm sorry for neglecting you. I never intended to do that it’s just.. you know how I get so absorbed in my music and I didn’t realize how negatively it was affecting you.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy. You have a lot of responsibilities on your shoulder as the leader of the biggest band in the world. I didn’t want to seem selfish..”

“Hey, you’re not selfish at all for wanting to spend time with your boyfriend please don’t say that. I’m going to come home more often. And if I can’t come home maybe you can come to the studio and we can at least have dinner together?”

“I would love that very much.”

“And also.. we just found out we get a month long break coming up. No schedules, no music, no appearances. Just time for ourselves to live like normal men in their 20′s.” You smile at that thinking about how you’ll finally get some time together. “Maybe we can take a trip or something?”

“That would be amazing. I can’t wait.” He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, laying down and pulling you in close to him so he can hold you.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I love you too. And of course. My home is with you after all.”

#bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #kim namjoon #rm #Namjoon scenario #namjoon imagine #namjoon reaction #namjoon x reader #reader x namjoon

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ikesenhell · 5 years

Text

American Dream

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 1. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: HOLY SHIT IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE. Thank you so much to @missjudge-me, who commissioned this whole piece. You have them to thank. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back up, but being homeless and in grad school and working and getting formally diagnosed with an autoimmune illness and being in a pandemic and moving kinda takes it out of you. This was very fun to write. Enjoy!

---

Masamune wasn’t used to his childhood bedroom anymore. His mother had converted his loft bed desk into her scrapbooking station. That was fine, in theory, except that it meant two things: one, she hadn’t changed the sheets in actual years, and two, the loft bed was still there.

“Sweet!” He announced with a laugh, scaling the ladder in a single bound. It’d felt so tall once. He ducked low against the ceiling, pressing his back flat. “Holy hell, I was smaller then.”

“Duh.” His brother, Kojiro, smirked from the door. Time changed everything. Masamune felt so big when he was in high school himself, but looking at his teen brother changed his perspective. “You’re a big lunk now. You eat like The Rock.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Masamune kicked off his boots and army-crawled into the loft.

“How much clearance you got?”

“Eh. Six inches from my chest to the ceiling?” He tried to roll onto his back and failed, laughing against the drywall. “Did you know about the time that I knocked myself out up here?”

Kojiro’s luminous blue eyes appeared over the lip of the bed. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Got too excited freshman year of high school, bolted straight up when the alarm went off.” He motioned at a dent in the ceiling. “I was late. Dad didn't stop laughing for about, I dunno—”

“—the whole ride there.” Kojiro chuckled. “Yeah. Sounds like him.”

The funeral wasn’t so far behind them that it didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hurt less. Masamune checked his knuckles into the dent. It was the whole reason for his coming home. His mother needed someone to sort out all of the old things, all the memories and bills she couldn’t bear to look at. It didn't matter that they’d never gotten along. Kojiro was her favorite; that was obvious (and Masamune couldn’t blame her for that, Kojiro was a joy by anyone’s standards). Even then he couldn’t let her hang in the lurch. His dad taught him better than that.

Damn. He missed his dad. Everywhere he looked in this old town, in this old house, were reminders. There was the trashy diner where they used to get the world’s best milkshakes once a week. There was the old stove with the broken burner they’d never replaced (because it was ‘perfectly good’) where he’d learned how to cook. And it wasn’t just his father he felt the absence of. Masamune fingered along the space between the wall and the loft bed where he’d pasted all the pictures and keepsakes from his friends. Him and Nobunaga, posing in a picture by the beach with matching glasses. Hideyoshi and Mitsunari peering at homework, Mitsuhide poised to drop an ice cube down his shirt. (Nobunaga was a broker in New York City, conquering Wall Street with Hideyoshi. Those two shared an apartment in SoHo, all the way across the country on the other coast. Hideyoshi worked with Nobunaga now, and no one knew what Mitsuhide did. Mitsunari was off in the Peace Corps.) There was a snapshot of Masamune and Ieyasu squished together in the back of an old 1960s Volkswagen Beetle his mom had for decades, Ieyasu frowning over a mouthful of jalapeno poppers. Ieyasu was a doctor in Maryland now. He was terrible at texting back, too. Masamune made a mental note to call.

And then there was Her.

Even after all this time, he missed their friendship. He fingered the worn photograph; After-Prom senior year, her in a bikini that made his stomach somersault, him holding her on his shoulders. She was laughing. He still wore the fake eye back then, and it sat oddly in the socket, but even that didn't take away from the sheer joy as he gazed up at her. When she lived with her parents in the little green house across the street, he used to build paper airplanes with stupid jokes scrawled in the folds and fling it at her window, hoping that they’d hit and knowing they never would. They’d measure how far it got from his front door and compare their poorly-kept notes, misremembering all the numbers.

Now she was out there in the world.

Kojiro craned his neck over the loft edge. “What’cha got up there?”

Masamune didn't answer that. Instead he wondered if she was happy. “If I’m gonna stay here for now, we gotta fix this situation. I’m too manly and brawny to fit up here. Wanna swap beds?”

“No! This thing is so uncool, you can’t get—” And the teenager furtively checked the doorway, lowering his voice. “You can’t get anyone up here with you.”

As an adult, Masamune rolled his eyes. As a brother, he snapped back, “I promise, you can.”

“Gross, why the fuck would I trade with you now—!?”

Downstairs, their mother shouted, “Who is swearing up there!?” Kojiro paled. Masamune, bolstered with smug elder brother energy, kicked him from the ladder.

“Move, punk! Run for your life! You fucked up!”

His mother, louder now. “Who said that?!”

“That was Masa!” Kojiro bellowed, fleeing the scene of the crime. “Masa said it that time!”

“That time!? Kojiro—!”

Masamune finally wriggled himself free from the narrow confines of the loft. On the way down, he pocketed the picture of Her.

---

The only reason he remembered the day his dad bought the ‘85 Camaro was his mother was well and truly pissed about it. It wasn’t a pretty looking thing then. Masamune later sussed out that his dad had picked it off a side road out in the country because it was ‘a nice looking car’ and ‘could be fixed up’. Of course it could. Maybe it was his time in the military, but there wasn’t a damn car under the sun that his dad couldn’t fix. The Camaro was better than new, but his mom drove a newer Hyundai, so it sat neglected in the garage, shiny and electric blue and begging for a test run. When Masamune backed it into the driveway, his mother sighed ragged.

“I ought to sell that thing,” she announced.

Masamune bit back his reflex answer of ‘not on my watch’ and replied, “Kojiro’s gonna need a car when he can drive.”

“I’m going to get him something new. A nice car. That one is too old for anything now.”

“I could take it.”

“You already have that infernal death trap.” She thumbed at the Harley parked in the grass, right where she hated it most. In the name of getting along, neither of them had mentioned it. “You don’t need another car payment. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do right now? We have all sorts of things to settle with your dad’s estate.”

“Ma, the car is paid off.” But she was right in one way; he did already have a vehicle, and paying the taxes and insurance on both was a waste. It was sort of pointless, keeping the car in the garage forever. “I can’t do anything until I get the extra copies of his death certificate, and that’s gonna be a minute. I ordered them today. Did you want me to put the car on Craigslist or something?”

She gazed at it, her steel expression softening. Ah, yes. There was his mother. His parents loved each other dearly. It just took moments like this to remember it.

“Would you?” She replied. Her feather soft voice broke his heart. “I can’t bear to do it.”

“Yeah, Ma. I’ll get it to a good home.”

---

All it really needed was a wash and an oil change. The guys at the auto parts store whistled enviously when they handed over the filters. No; it wouldn’t be hard to sell at all. No doubt he could post it on some Reddit forum and get a hundred hits in an hour.

Masamune was about to post the listing when fate intervened.

The driveway was warm on his bare back, the first chill wind of autumn cooling his shoulders. His phone was stark against the sharp blue sky, his shirt rolled under his hair.

A shadow fell over him. “Masa?”

He blinked his only good eye, floundering against the sudden contrast. The woman murmured an apology, stepped away, and blinded him with sunlight again.

“Hey!” He laugh-yelped, rolling onto his stomach. “Goddamn!”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He clutched at the Camaro’s bumper and pulled himself up, blinking sundots away. “Gimme a sec, hang on.”

And then—she swam into view, all bright eyes and curves and nothing like she used to be and everything like she used to be and so much better. Was this his friend, this fully grown woman with a face like all his best memories? Where his words? He was usually so good with them.

“That you, Masamune?” She asked, the ghost of a smile on her mouth.

“Well, hell.” SAY SOMETHING, YOU STUPID BASTARD. He forced a grin back—but then it arrived all on its own. “Wow. Damn. Where have you been this whole time, Kitten, Hollywood? You runnin’ everyone out of a job out there? Puttin’ those Hadids out of work?”

Her laugh was the same. Good God, it sent shivers all the way down his spine and into his toes. Her eyes crinkled and he wondered if he could bottle that expression. “You’re still calling me Kitten, huh?”

“Your fault for wearing cat socks all the time. I don’t see a reason to stop now, ‘specially now that you blinded me in my own driveway.”

Even her eye roll was a shot of nostalgia to the veins. What now? Did he shake hands? Masamune stared at his oil-slicked palms from changing the filter. “Well, if you don’t mind me smearing grease all over you… Shit, what am I asking for?”

“Oh my God, Masamune, do not rub motor oil on me!”

“Too late!” He charged forward. She squealed but didn't run; he caught her around the waist and squashed her against him, bringing her feet from the ground. Those eyes were wide with surprise and delight and so much joy. Something smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “God, is that your shampoo?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s great. You look great.”

She batted against his chest, wriggling in his grasp. “And you bulked up. What, you one of those CrossFit junkies or something now?”

“C’mon, don’t insult me like that. Their form is terrible.”

“And you ditched the glass eye.”

“It was hurting. Figured I might as well let the lid close up and deal with it. Not like I could see from it anyway.”

But she laced her hands around the back of his neck and tapped just above his brow. Such easy physical intimacy. Oh, how he’d missed that! They’d always been the most handsy of the friend group, never shying away from each other. “I wasn’t complaining. You rock the pirate look, Captain.”

Masamune snickered and clicked his tongue. “I’ll own that. I love some booty.”

With a roll of her eyes, she let the comment slide. “You busy? Wanna catch up?”

At last he let her slide from his arms, setting her feet on the ground. Why was the world so much colder when her body parted from his? “Hell yeah. Let me make you some gyoza and we’ll chat.”

#American Dream #commission #ikesen masamune #modern au #roadtrip story #angst #death mention tw

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ayatosmlktea · 5 years

Text

Trigger warning: mentions of date rape

𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆: 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

Part 1

Y/N had fully meant it when she had said that she was going to look for her own place at the time but as the weeks went by and depression got the best of her she had ended up staying at Hanji’s for longer than anticipated. Not that the brunette minded, her best friend was in need of something-someone to keep her grounded during this dark time in her life, especially when she was pregnant.

Levi was relentless in trying to get in contact with Y/N, he called her, left voicemails, countless text messages and had even shown up at Hanji’s apartment one night. She had only heard his voice begging the brunette to let him in, and the sound of his voice only further broke her heart. Her knees were drawn up to her chest as she hid her face in her arms trying not to make any sound as she sobbed on the floor of the bathroom listening to Hanji deny his request to see his former lover.

In summary, Y/N was a mess, showering required more effort than it ever had, work was torturously long and her performance was beginning to slack. The only times she would eat would be when Hanji physically dragged her out of bed scolding her for neglecting the tiny life dependent on her for survival. In the end she had decided to go through with the pregnancy, although she wasn’t sure why. The bump on her stomach went from being non-existent to protruding slightly which made her look constantly bloated.

They hadn’t spoken or seen each other for the past month and while she was still angry and hurt her heart longed for Levi. The years they had spent together, the memories they’d made and the feelings she had developed for him wasn’t something that was going to disappear any time soon it seemed.

During the day she could play off her feelings, acting like she wasn’t screaming with rage and pain on the inside. But at night when she was alone with nothing but her thoughts she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore while clutching her stomach and yearning for a future that would never be. Hanji never let on that she heard the heartbroken sobs muffled by the door but she did. This mess was tearing apart two people she cared for dearly and made up her mind to do something about it even if Y/N wouldn’t like it.

The next morning the apartment was far too quiet for her liking, normally she’d hear Hanji making a bunch of noise as she rushed around the house getting ready for work or to meet up with her lab assistant Moblit on the weekends.

Figuring that she must’ve left while she had still been asleep she makes her way to the kitchen to start the kettle for tea. She lets out a yawn and stretches her arms over her head but stops dead in her tracks when she sees Levi and Hanji sitting at the kitchen island. Her eyes dart over to Hanji’s and then back again to Levi who’s attention was focused solely on the tiny bump uncovered by her sleep wear.

“Why is he here? I don’t care what he has to say.” She growls clenching her jaw so hard her teeth hurt. Her brunette friend walks around to her cautiously, it was obvious they had been waiting for to to wake up as she notes that Hanji was dressed and ready to leave.

“Please Y/N just listen to him, you don’t have to make any decisions today but just hear him out.” Y/N scoffs but says nothing, feeling slightly betrayed by the fact that she had been cornered into being in the same room as her cheating ex fiancé. Her whole body remains tense as the door closes leaving the two of them alone. She wills herself not to look at him, fearing that if she did she wouldn’t be able to hold back the floodgates of tears that were sure to come. Neither of them says anything for a few minutes, the tension in the air so thick it felt suffocating. The sound of his chair scraping against the floor makes her jump in surprise as she notices that Levi is moving to stand in front of her. Still not looking at him she steps back, missing the look of utter hurt on his face at how cold she had become.

“Y/N I’m so sorry.” His voice is barely louder than a whisper and she balls her fists tighter digging her nails into her palm to keep from punching him. “I never slept with Jess, at least not on purpose.” She laughs harshly at his pathetic excuse of trying to lesson the blow of his actions.

“Yeah I’m sure, I accidentally sleep with people all the time Levi.” He flinches at the venom lacing the tone of her voice when she spits out his name. Deciding that beating around the bush wasn’t going to help he takes a deep breath and tells her everything.

“Erwin and Mike dragged me out for drinks that night to celebrate you coming back. Jess was at the bar too but I didn’t notice her until Mike and Erwin left and she showed up next to me. Obviously I told her to fuck off. She started spewing some bullshit about how we were meant to be together and that you were going to meet some guy in Korea and leave me.” She can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of that statement. From what Levi had told her about his previous relationship with her, Jess was manipulative and obviously had no idea of what a healthy relationship was supposed to look like.

“Anyway, while I wasn’t paying attention she drugged my drink. I don’t even remember leaving the bar.” He mutters in disgust balling his fists at his side. She looks up at him in shock, her lips slightly parted. “The morning after you left I called the cops on her and went straight to the hospital. The doctors confirmed that she drugged me from the results of my test.” Y/N feels her heart drop to her stomach in horror and disgust and for the first time she notices how awful he looked. His skin was paler than usual making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent. He looked a little thinner too, his hair was a mess- something that was uncommon for someone so tidy.

“I feel disgusted that I can’t even remember what happened that night. I betrayed your trust and because of me our relationship fell apart.” She sees tears sliding down his cheeks and it breaks her resolve. This entire time she had been blaming him for something that wasn’t his fault and to see him beating himself up over it so harshly because of her tore her apart. She rushes forward and buries her head in his chest feeling her own tears soaking into his shirt. Out of habit his arms wrap around her, pressing her body as close to his as physically possible.

“I would never cheat on you Y/N. I love you so much. I’m so sorry I put you through this.” He chokes out.

“I’m such an idiot, it’s not your fault Levi. You had no control over the situation, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before.” Y/N sobs into his chest feeling guilty that she had prolonged his self-deprecating thoughts. Desperate to feel his touch after being apart for a month she grips his face in both her hands and pulls him down into an apologetic yet passionate kiss. He groans against her lips, savouring the feeling of finally being able to touch her again as his arms slide down to her hips. He backs her up against the counter as they claw at each other relentlessly, her hands moving upwards to grip his hair and his fingers dig her skin harder to bring her closer. They pull away when the need for oxygen becomes too much, their foreheads leaning against each other as they pant heavily trying to catch their breath. Levi’s hands move from her hips the cover her stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” He asks quietly, looking into her eyes.

“Yeah. I wanted to tell you when I got back but...things happened.” She sighs feeling horrible at what he had gone through, knowing the kind of person Jess was she should’ve known that she would take desperate measures to win Levi back.

“It’s not your fault love, she staged it well. Anyone would have reacted the way you did, I just want to move past this and focus on rebuilding our family, if you still want to be together.” He whispers against her skin rubbing small circles on her back.

“Of course I do! I missed you so much.” Y/N clings to Levi’s shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring her to the ground. He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and feels a huge weight lifted off his chest.

“I missed you too love. Let’s go to bed now, you look like shit.” He kisses her forehead before guiding her back to the bedroom.

“You’re one to talk.” She retorts playfully, her heart pounding with emotions at finally having her Levi back. For the first time in weeks the two of them had fallen asleep peacefully.

It would be difficult for them to move past but time and their unconditional love for each other would heal their wounds.

Shortly after getting back together they made the mutual decision to move out of their house and began looking for a new one. Deciding that it would be better to leave those dark memories behind and make new ones with their growing baby girl in a fresh environment. Hanji had cried when they’d asked her to be their baby’s godmother, after all she was the reason they were a family again. To say that neither of them had come out of this unscathed would be an understatement, there were times that both of them felt angry at the other and after one particularly nasty fight they had realized that they both needed to seek professional help not only for themselves, but to provide the best care they could for their daughter.

They weren’t perfect but Y/N was forever grateful that she had decided to keep the baby, she was the perfect mixture of them.

“You did so well love, she’s beautiful.” Levi murmurs as he places a gentle kiss on her sweaty forehead. He hadn’t thought that he would have cried at seeing his baby girl for the first time but a few tears had managed to escape as he held her for the first time. Later that night after they had taken Lea to the nursery and Y/N had fallen asleep from exhaustion, he had sneaked into bed with her. Holding her against his chest and stroking her hair unconsciously he made a silent promise to his family. He would do his best to prove to Y/N that no matter what happened, they were meant to be.

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theimpossiblescheme · 4 years

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The Last of the Fires

I didn’t think it was possible for me to be dragged even farther into Cyrano de Bergerac hell, but by God @nonchalantdanger found a way. This alternate universe we’ve come up has already yielded some great results (I was already pretty proud of the first fic I wrote for it, and then reading the add-on... chills), so I thought I would take another whack at it. This takes place a few hours after that add-on--the truth has come out, Cyrano and Roxanne have more than reconciled, and now Christian has to figure out his new place in the world... enjoy!

Another greasy campfire had been lit in the camp of the Gascony cadets, but this time they finally had something to cook over it. Miraculously, Ragueneau was still pulling legs of lamb and whole partridges from his and Roxanne’s coach, which the soldiers accepted and devoured gleefully. Strains of old victory songs rang through the air, and at long last a few men could be heard to laugh. Even de Guiche, sitting with a barely nibbled-at turkey breast by the fire, was smiling more than any of them had known him to smile. The relief of triumph over the Spanish was palpable, and it had touched everyone present, young and old.

Christian wished he could feel that relief so keenly. Instead, sharp jabs of anxiety kept intruding, making it impossible for him to eat. He hadn’t seen Roxanne since he left her in the surgeon’s tent. No doubt she’d talked to Cyrano… he couldn’t imagine what they might have said to each other, though. Knowing Cyrano, he would deny everything—that he’d ever loved her, that he’d ever written a single letter, that he’d ever given Christian the smallest word to say—but Roxanne was in such a holy fury that Christian doubted very much that she would leave it at that. Perhaps they’d spent the whole time arguing—that might explain her long absence, but it was hardly a comforting though. Christian had seen both of them angry, and that was terrifying enough, but for them to be angry at each other… he’d never forgive himself for causing it. Maybe he should have… no. No, he was glad he’d said what he’d said. It had hurt tremendously, but a greater hurt would be to stand in the way of their happiness. The two people he cared for more than anyone else in the world.

Where that left him… he wasn’t sure yet. But he supposed he’d find out in time.

The fire sputtered a bit, and Christian leaned forward to stir it back to life. Through the flames, he could see a figure limping toward the camp, leaning heavily on an old walking stick. Only when the figure turned in profile did Christian recognize him and smile in spite of himself. Le Bret, though limping himself on his injured leg, turned away from one of the old supply wagons and raced toward him, pulling him into a fierce embrace. After pulling apart, the two exchanged a few brief words, and Le Bret patted him on the shoulder before returning to his duties. As he watched the figure grow closer, Christian felt his palms starting to sweat, the way they always did around… around her. What would he say now? What would he do?

Looking up, de Guiche’s lips curled in a small smirk, though this time it came without his usual contempt. “So you managed to survive after all, have you?”

Cyrano merely flashed him that dangerous grin before carefully lowering himself to sit nearby. “I had thought you would sound more disappointed.”

“Not necessarily. Surprised, perhaps, given your endless barrage of gasconades just earlier today. You sounded quite content—excited, even—to die in battle.”

“Perhaps… but Providence has given me another task to complete. I could hardly die leaving that great will so unsatisfied.” Cyrano gave Christian a meaningful sideways look, and Christian felt a new chill run through him.

“Mm.” Peeling the skins away from the eaten parts of his turkey breast, de Guiche returned the rest of it to a nearby basket and stood, swiping a delicate hand over his ribbons. “I must attend to what remains of our supplies. See that this one stays out of trouble, Nuevillette.” And he left the two men alone by the fire.

So. “You have… spoken to Roxanne?” Christian ventured, balling his hands into fists and kneading them fitfully against his thighs.

“I have, yes.”

“And she said…?”

The slightest little disbelieving laugh huffed out of Cyrano as he struggled to repress a smile. There was a look of… what could almost be described as peace in his eyes, a look Christian had never seen before. “More than I could have dared to hope.”

“She loves you?”

“… Against all wisdom, against all possible odds… I would never have thought it possible unless I were to hear it from her lips.” His expression changed as he looked back up at Christian. “Though I fear she was rather uncharitable to you, my friend.”

“Why—what did she say?”

For what felt like far too long, Cyrano hesitated, gathering all his finely spun words into precisely the right web for the present moment. “There was never a doubt in my mind,” he began, deliberately looking away and gazing toward the fire, “that your love for her, even in my borrowed declarations of the same, was sincere. You were willing to give her up entirely, as I was, for her own happiness. You say that I am your soul, but your own needs no embellishment of fine words and glib turns of phrase. I decorate mine with small glories, but yours rings golden. And yet… she insisted, for my sake or for hers I cannot tell, that your marriage can be annulled. That her love for you has cooled. And I cannot help but think that rather unfair, after all you have done for her.”

Christian felt his hands twisting tighter. He’d already cried once today, he couldn’t risk it again—not in front of Cyrano. It was true, that same thought had crossed his mind. There were no witnesses to the marriage; it was unrecorded, uncelebrated, and unconsummated. Throughout the siege, he’d entertained many a dream of returning home to Roxanne and curling up beside her under one blanket, finding her warm and willing… but no. She would be making love to a shadow, and he would have to convince himself that she truly saw him every night, not some other man with a different voice. Christian remembered that night under her balcony, her rapt silence as Cyrano practically sang to her in such words… he would never have thought of them himself, God knew, but they all rang so true. “Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart.” Perhaps he was a little in love with Cyrano’s words that night, too. He could feel that same bell pealing in his chest, crying the name of the woman he’d adored.

The woman he might never see again.

He forced a smile. “Perhaps I should take a leaf out of your book. Learn to love from afar.”

“No.” Cyrano’s voice was firm. “I have endured that torture for as long as I can remember, even when we were children together. There is no greater lingering pain than to love one who neglects or even refuses your very existence. I would not wish that pain upon you.”

“I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness, Cyrano.”

“And I have spent enough time hampering your own--”

“Stop.” Christian ran a hand over his hair, fitfully pushing some of it back into his braid. “I wanted to say this before, when the fighting first broke out... I don’t wish to be my own rival anymore. And you have already given up so much for her. You talk about being unfair to me, but neither of us have been fair to you. She... she’s made her views perfectly clear, and if I--if I ever cared for her, I have to honor them.” Roxanne was no prize for either of them to claim. She had made her decision. Both of them wanted her to be happy... it was as simple as that.

“But is this truly what you wish, Christian?”

“Yes.” And he was surprised to find how much he meant it. After everything the three of them had been through, somehow this felt inevitable. Inevitable and only right. This was as graceful an exit he could make on behalf of two people he loved in his own fashion. “You... you have been my friend even when I have not treated you like one in return. And I can’t lie to Roxanne any more than I already have. Besides, she can’t marry two men.”

“Perhaps in a just world she might.” It was Cyrano’s half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood, but his expression softened into something gentler as he clasped Christian’s shoulder. “But in this one now, I promise you will love again. You shall find someone who loves all that you are and not merely what you pretend to be. Someone you will not feel the need to impress so constantly… you were placed in an unfair position from the very beginning, and I am sorry for it. The love you deserve is safer and kinder than what you were granted.”

“Oh, I don’t regret any of it for a second,” Christian replied, shaking his head. It occurred to him that neither of them had been so honest with each other before today, and it was almost embarrassing... and yet oddly freeing. “This is--this is going to sound ridiculous, I know, and I’m sorry… but I don’t think I will ever be out of love with Roxanne.”

“No need to apologize. In truth, I would never expect that. She is very easy to love, I’ve found.” A smile flickered back onto Cyrano’s face. “Carry that torch if you must, my friend, but a day will come when you find it too heavy to bear, and you must set it down for another to bask in its glow. And you will know that day that it no longer truly burns for her alone, and you shall be happy again.”

“...Do you really think that?”

“I do, or may I live another hundred years and never fight again.”

Christian considered his words. Ever since that night in the theater, it seemed that Roxanne was the only woman in the world, but now... now the world had opened back up again. And in so many words, Cyrano was urging him not to be afraid. “I dearly hope you’re right…” The idea of there being someone else out there in the world… as lovely as Roxanne, as brilliant, as spirited, but not quite as… well, intimidating. Someone who could listen to Christian’s damned fool clumsy words and not turn him away… someone with whom he could be more than just a pretty face and a slow tongue… it seemed so inconceivable, a far-flung fantasy. Yet Cyrano had said it with so much certainty. And he’d feared almost the same thing, hadn’t he—that he was too ugly for any woman to love? If he could be proven wrong… why not? Yes, why not…? “I should still like to speak to her before we leave. If she will allow it, that is.”

“You shall have that chance, I promise you that as well. In the meantime…” Planting his stick in the dirt before him and veering gently out of Christian’s reach, Cyrano rose slowly to his feet again. “I promised Le Bret I would help organize our return to Paris. You get some rest, and for pity’s sake eat something.”

“I will. Thank you.” Before he could stop himself, Christian’s hand shot out to catch Cyrano’s arm as he turned to go. “I mean that… thank you.” For understanding, for being there for so long, for giving him another chance... he could go on and on if only he could find the words. Thankfully, Cyrano seemed to understand, nodding and giving Christian’s arm a brief squeeze of his own before limping off. Even on unsteady feet with shrapnel in his shoulder, the white plume of freedom floated above him, unspotted and ethereal.

Eventually the last of the campfire had guttered and stopped, and de Guiche had addressed his men one last time in the dark, detailing plans for their return to civilization and offering rather backhanded congratulations for their unlikely victory. Christian barely heard him—after the day he’d had, there was such a weariness in his bones that he could sleep for the next six years. As everyone slumped back to their bedrolls and tents, Christian followed suit, unravelling his threadbare blanket from the cocoon he’d twisted it into the night before and pulling up his rucksack to use as a pillow. But there was something laying over it: a note, folded three times. He unfolded it and read the familiar flowing script—obviously memorized and written down for posterity, and not for the first time.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov'd,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

Christian couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to his friend to find the right words, even if they weren’t his own. Folding the note back up again and tucking it away for safekeeping, he curled up under his blanket and finally let himself relax.

#cyrano de bergerac #christian de neuvillette #my fanfic #While I admit that my heart will always belong to the Cyrano/Roxanne/Christian OT3 I do love this take as well.#Christian deserves someone he can be completely himself with and sometimes that was difficult around Roxanne.#And I think Roxanne realizes that she was sometimes unfair to him--whatever she thinks of him she still wants him in her life.#That's the follow-up I'll probably write at some point--these crazy kids have put up with enough heartbreak...

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