#I'm going to disappear off of the face of the Earth after posting this now

[1super-nova5]

I wasn't actually expecting me to post this anywhere. But my sister wanted me to post this silly shit post crack ship art that I made quite a while ago.

(Not too sure if I can really call it art considering I used the PNG assets)

[itsthewritergal]

Just let me go - Bucky Barnes x reader

Okay this one is ANGSTTYYY Also there will be a part two! Posted tomorrow :)

TW: kidnapping, swearing, suicidal thoughts, guns, angst, sadness, suicidal ideation, also I haven't proof read this aha I'm sorry!!

“Sergeant Barnes, there is someone here to see you” One of the agent said as they stepped into the training room, 

“Who?” Bucky replied curtly, being halfway through a session with Nat he didn’t exactly want to be interrupted no matter who it was 

“I don’t know but she looks upset, if I was you I’d be worried” the agent said with a laugh, making a few of the other trainee’s laugh 

“Don’t forget your rank” Bucky said bluntly, 

“Sorry Sargent Barnes” The agent said, 

“You can start sparring, I’ll be back soon and I expect to see some improvements from yesterday” Nat said following Bucky out the room, 

“Who do you think it is?” Nat asked 

“I don’t know” Bucky said 

“What about that girl you went out with the other night?” 

“I don’t think she’d come here” Bucky said with a huff, “she didn’t like me” he said 

“Ooh what about the girl from Tony’s party?” Nat suggested, it sounded as though the idea of Bucky having a girl round was entertaining to her, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nat, 

“No” He said bluntly, 

“Tensions killing me” Nat said with a dry laugh 

“Come on Nat, leave it alone” he said, turning the corner to the common room, he stopped immediately his breath hitching in his throat for a split second, 

“Y/N?” Nat beamed running over to give her a hug almost knocking her off of her feet “It’s been like a year since I saw you!” She grinned, 

“Hey Nat” She said gently, 

“You have to stay for dinner, Wanda’s cooking, she’ll want to see you. So will Steve, and Tony, oh and Sam!” She said “I’ll text them all now, they’ll set up a place for you” 

“Nat, I don’t think—” Y/N started 

“I don’t want to hear it, you’re staying” She said pulling out her phone and quickly tapping a message, 

“Y/N” Bucky said bluntly, his voice void of all emotions. 

“Hey” Y/N cut herself off unsure of what to call him so deciding against calling him anything,  her eyes wandered to his arm,  “the black and gold suits you” She said softly “Always said silver wasn’t your colour” 

“Shuri agreed with you” Bucky nodded

An uncomfortable silence settled across the two of them, 

“I should go” She said quickly, 

“Why did you come?” He asked a part of him not wanting her to disappear, not again 

“I, uh I found, I found this”  Y/N said her cheeks flushing red as she passed Bucky a t-shirt, one that he had forgotten about, but it certainly looked more worn now than how he remembered it. His heart squeezed at the thought of her wearing it after everything

“This is why you came?” Bucky said 

“You’re right, it was stupid. I’m gonna go” Y/N said quickly,  shaking her head as she turned, Bucky knew how she felt. He had imaged many times making an excuse to go and see her, he just didn’t think she was the kind of person to go through with it. 

“Y/N! Oh my, Nat said you were here. I’ve just laid the table dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes which is just long enough for you to catch me up on your life! Sorry Buck, but she’s with me until dinner. Then you can have her back” Wanda said not offering Bucky or Y/N a second option. 

----

“So Y/N where have you been?” Tony asked as they all sat down at the table “it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth

“Just around,” She said quietly 

“I came by your apartment, but it was empty” Tony said, 

“I had to move out” 

“You moved out?” Nat said “How come?” She said worry filling her voice 

“Life happens” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Bucky’s eyes fell on her face, watching how her eyes studied her plate not daring to look up 

“Well things always find a way of getting better” Wanda said squeezing Y/N’s hand on the top of the table 

“How about you guys, I’ve seen good things on the news” Y/N said softly 

“We’re okay” Steve said, 

“I”m pleased,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, 

“What’s your new apartment like?” Wanda asked, 

“It’s nice” Y/N said gently , 

“You should give me the address,” Tony said commandingly 

“I’ll send it over to you, I still don’t quite know it off by heart” She said, it was a lie. Bucky knew it was a lie, even if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pick up, he would be able to tell from the way she couldn’t look at anyone in their eye. 

“What part of town is it?” Steve pressed, 

“I really appreciate you guys having me for dinner but I’m going to head home” She said quickly, “I’ll see you guys around” She said picking up her coat, 

“I'm sorry if I said something wrong” Steve apologised quickly, he should’ve known better than to press her, Bucky thought

“You don’t need to” Tony said trying to savour the dinner 

“Why don’t you stay for a movie?” Wanda suggested, 

“I need to go” She said standing up and quickly hurrying out of the room 

A gentle silence fell across the room, “I shouldn’t have asked her” Steve said 

“It’s not on you” Wanda said “I don’t think that anyone could have convinced her to open up to us” 

“I’ll find her address and go over tomorrow, it’ll be easier without anyone else there” Tony said fiercely, 

“She won’t talk to you” Bucky said 

“And she’ll talk to you?” Tony snapped “You’re the reason we are in this mess in the first place. She is my friend and I will do what I think is right” 

“What even happened when you broke up?” Wanda asked 

“ Nothing” Bucky said 

“Don’t lie” Tony snapped 

“What the hell did you do? I thought you two were fine” Nat asked 

“You told us all you two were fine after the breakup” Wanda said 

“Leave him alone” Steve said sternly 

Bucky sighed softly “She just came to drop off a shirt” 

“Nobody drops off a shirt after a year” Tony said “She wanted to see you and you couldn’t even give her the time of day” He snapped 

“She’ll be okay, I’ll come with you tomorrow, we can check in on her” Wanda said 

Bucky didn’t dare to say anything, he just nodded gently. It was a thank you, all be it a silent one, but a thank you none the less. 

----

“Tony, you need to see this” Wanda said as an alert popped up on the screen alerting Tony to a new message, they had been in Tony's lab for a few hours scouting out Y/N's new apartment.

“Have you seen where she is living?” Tony said scanning through the photos that FRIDAY had brought up on his screen “it’s worse than I thought”  

“Tony now” Wanda said fiercely,

“What is it?” Tony asked, turning around, his face dropping when he saw the screen. “Is that?” 

“Y/N” Wanda finished

“Who sent this” Tony asked 

“I don’t know, it’s anonymous. I can’t trace the signal either” 

“FRIDAY, call the team and get them into the conference room now” 

“Yes Mr Stark” FRIDAY answered 

“We can’t tell Bucky” Wanda said, 

“We can and we will because he is going to help us” 

“That’s a bad idea” Wanda said 

“He once was one the best assassins, no debate. As much as I don’t like the tinman, he can and will help us” Tony said leaving little room for debate. 

“Tony what the hell? We’re meant to have the week off of missions” Nat said, sitting down in a chair with a mug of coffee nursed in her hands

“This is different” Tony said, 

“How so?” Steve asked 

“This is personal” Tony said sternly, 

“It’s Y/N” Wanda whispered, 

“What happened to her?” Bucky asked 

“I was sent this video” Tony said

 “We thought it was best we watched it together” Wanda added 

“FRIDAY, play the video please”

The screen went dark for a moment and then lit up with a picture of Y/N locked in a room, Bucky felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over him 

“Tell your friends what we want” A voice spoke, it sent chills down Bucky’s spine, he put her in this position. He had done everything to keep her safe, after all these years, this was his fault. 

“They won’t come” Y/N’s voice was strangely calm 

“Don’t be difficult girl, tell them what we want” The voice spoke again 

“You want the soldier, you want someone who’s gone. But here’s the catch. Even if he wasn’t gone, even if the solider still existed he wouldn’t come. Not for me.” She said 

“We’ve done our research” The voice mused, there was a hint of amusement in it’s voice, as though it had caught Y/N out, 

“Your research is wrong. I haven’t spoken to Bucky in a year, he does’t care” Y/N snapped, a gunshot sounded through the conference room, making them jump 

“Turn it off” Bucky’s voice was quiet but cut through the entire room 

“Shooting blanks at me won’t work” Y/N snapped “If you’re going to kill me then kill me”

“Turn it off” Bucky said once more 

“We want the soldat” The voice behind the camera spoke 

“Then you’ll have to find someone who he cares about, because it  isn’t me” She snapped 

“You have six hours or she dies” 

The camera turned off and the room went dark. All eyes turned to Bucky, 

“When was this sent?” He said 

“Barely ten minutes ago” Wanda answered softly, 

“Let’s start at her apartment” Steve said firmly “Wanda, Clint you’re with me, Tony, Nat you should try and find something from the video, there might be an idea of where they’re keeping her.” 

“I need to go as well” Bucky said 

“No” Wanda said “You need to stay away from this” 

“I spent years tracking people down, I think I’m the best chance we have to finding Y/N” He said challenging anyone to speak out against him

“I’ll go as support” Sam said patting Bucky’s back comfortingly. 

“We need to go, now” Steve said 

----

Steve’s skin crawled at the sight of Y/N’s apartment.  He hesitated before pushing the door open, it creaked and echoed through the tiny studio. Clothes were thrown across the room, plates were stacked up by the sink, two blankets were half heartedly thrown across the bed, no sign of a duvet or pillow. Bucky had to tear his eyes away from her apartment for a minute to regain his composure. 

“I can’t believe she was staying here” Wanda said stepping into it

“It was a means to an end” Steve said, 

“I should have helped her” Wanda sighed softly, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room,  

“We didn’t know” Clint said

“We should have” Wanda snapped “Look at how she was living, we should have been able to help” 

“She was always good at surviving” Steve said firmly 

“She shouldn’t have had to be, we are her friends and the moment her and Bucky split we left her” Wanda said, tears building in her eyes 

“They must have taken her here, look at the mess” Steve said changing the subject quickly,

“No” Bucky said softly “This is Y/N” Bucky said with a sigh

“What do you mean?” Clint asked “this is normal?” 

“When she got busy, she used to get messy, never put things away. Found it hard to do anything” Bucky said swallowing tightly  “We argued about it” He admitted 

“So did they take her here, or not?” Sam asked 

“Not here, this is normal for her. It didn’t happen here” Bucky said firmly

“Ok so that’s something” Sam said, attempting at a loose sense of positivity

“It must’ve happened by the compound” Wanda said “think about it, if they wanted Bucky then surely they’d be keeping tabs on him. When she left last night they must have taken the next best thing to get to him” She said 

“We need to look at security cameras”  Clint suggested 

“Who wants Bucky though?” Sam said, “I think we’re focussing too much on Y/N, rather than on what they want” 

“Hydra” Steve said through pursed lips 

“It can’t be” Wanda said 

“It has to be” Clint confirmed “It makes the most sense” 

“So who are we looking at? Zemo?” Sam asked 

“Maybe” Steve said “Doesn’t feel right though”, Steve’s thought was cut short by his phone ringing 

“Steve, I’ve got an address” Tony said, “suit up”

----

Bucky couldn’t stop shaking, he’d been on tougher missions, he’d been in tougher briefings, he had almost died more times than he could count. But this felt like the worst day of his life, 

“We’ve been sent an address,” Tony said 

“It’s a trap” Nat said 

“We don’t know that” Steve suggested, “Who sent it to you?” 

“It came with a video, it was from the same people as before” 

“What’s the video?” Sam asked, noticing the tension that had fallen across the room, 

Tony instructed FRIDAY to play the video, Y/N’s face was brought up on the screen, 

“Y/N tell them what you just told me” The voice spoke 

“No” She spat through gritted teeth, her hair was matted with blood which dripped slowly from a wound on her hair line, her face was bruised and Bucky was silently pleased he could only see to the base on her neck, anymore and he was sure he would throw up. The skin he had once pressed kisses to so gently was purple and blotted with blood. 

“Our captive here has a death wish” The voice said again, “She had her little suicide letters in her pocket when we caught her” it sneered 

“Shut the hell up” Y/N snapped, there was something in her eyes that scared Bucky, she looked so void of the love that she had once been filled with 

“She was on the top of a building when we found her, she’s only got 3 hours left avengers. Are you going to give in to her wishes?” 

“Just kill me” She whispered 

“What was that?” The voice asked, it was mocking her, teasing her, it was a sight that Bucky couldn’t stand 

“Kill me!” She shouted, her voice sent chills down each of the spines of her old friends “Just kill me” She said settling into a bought of sobs, 

The video stopped and cut to a map with a pin placed directly in it. 

“We need to go” Steve said “We leave in 5” 

----

The quinjet landed softly and Bucky could feel a knot growing in his stomach, he had been on enough rescue missions to know the ways that this could go. It was an old hydra base, one that Bucky was sure should’ve been emptied years ago. But here it stood, admittedly it was partly falling down but the cells were deep underground and the structures were built to last. He knew that much well enough, if he strained his ears he would swear that he could hear Y/N’s cries, but he convinced himself it was all in his head. 

“She’s going to be okay” Steve said 

“I can’t loose her Steve” Bucky admitted “I’ve lost her once, I can’t watch her die” 

“Then don’t let her” Steve said 

Bucky followed behind the rest of the team, Wanda stood beside him, 

“Do you want me to take the fear away?” She asked under her breath, knowing nobody else would be able to hear her 

“No, I need it” Bucky said, he didn’t explain anything else but Wanda nodded, 

“Let’s go get Y/N home” Wanda said

Bucky followed Tony’s lead, any other mission he would have tried to take the lead off of Tony but he couldn’t for this. Y/N needed Tony’s planning, Y/N’s life couldn’t be in Bucky’s hands. He would never forgive himself if anything happened. They descended into the base, it was too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Hydra would never have kept it this quiet, something was wrong. 

“Welcome home soldat” the words echoed through the halls, 

“They know we are here” Steve muttered, 

“She’s down here” Tony said, taking another set of steps downwards, Bucky could hear her shallow breaths getting louder slowly with each step he took. 

“Y/N?” Steve called out, 

“I told you to fucking kill me” Y/N screamed,  Tony immediately picked up the pace to a run following the sound of her voice.  Their footsteps echoed through the concrete walls, as they came across a long hallway filled with cells made of glass. Bucky’s skin crawled at the sight. This was what he wanted to protect Y/N from, she shouldn’t see this.  

“KIll me” Her voice rang through the cells, 

“Soldat” Bucky turned to find the voice behind him. “Do the honours?” The man said, he was older than Bucky thought he would be. 

“We’re surrounded” Steve said, 

“There’s no getting out of this” The man sneered, 

“That’s kind of where you are wrong” Tony said smartly, “You really think there’s only four of us?” He laughed 

“What?” 

“The rest of our team have cleared out your base, and they’re on their way” He said with a smirk “Also not only have we got two super soldiers, we’ve also got a freaky witch and me, ironman, you might of heard of me” 

“Ironman, you forget. You have an unstable winter soldier on your team, All I have to do is say a few words and he’s under my control right?” 

“Doesn’t work anymore” Bucky snapped 

“I’m bored” Nat said sneaking up from behind, with a wicked grin she pulled the trigger and the body fell to the ground with a thud. Instantly Bucky turned and shot the guard who was keeping him surrounded “God why are all the people we go against so boring” Nat said with a huff, once they had dealt with the guards. 

“Let’s just get Y/N” Tony said letting out a breath. 

Wanda took a step away from the group into a nearby cell, it was as though she felt her. 

“Guys she’s here” Wanda called, 

Bucky took a deep breath and turned the corner, Y/N sat slumped on a chair, out of breath and covered in bruises and dried blood. 

“Please” She whimpered 

“We’re going to get you out of here” Wanda said slowly untying her gently 

“Please no” She cried 

“You’re safe” Steve said kneeling at her side 

“No Please, let me go” She said 

“We’re letting you go, you’re going to be ok” 

“No, please” She sobbed again “You have to let me die” She cried as Wanda pulled the ties away from her 

“Y/N, we can’t do that” Steve said, 

“You’re going to be okay” Tony promised

“Just let me go please?” 

PART TWO

[annwrites]

you came back.

— pairing: harvey specter x exemployee!reader

— type: one-shot (for now. see author's note.)

— summary: after disappearing from new york & harvey's life for a year, he discovers that you've suddenly returned during a chance-meeting at a bookstore where you now work. desperate to right his past wrongs, he agrees to have dinner with you in your apartment. & then the truth reveals itself & his heart is shattered all over again.

— tw: mentions of rape.

— word count: 9,104

— a/n: i intend to eventually make posts exploring reader's relationship w/ harvey & her time in alaska. | my idea post for this fic

"Excuse me, miss. Would you mind helping me? There's a biography I—"

You slowly turn.

you know that voice. Used to hear it every day.

You'd wondered once—when you could no longer recall the sound of it—if you would still recognize it if you ever ran into him again.

Even if you'd never intended to.

You should've known better.

He stares at you with wide eyes. Into your own, which he thought he'd never look into again. Would never see his reflection in those blooming irises again. Would never see himself as you do again.

And yet here you are, right in front of him, gazing up at him as if...as if you'd never even left.

"You came back," he whispers in disbelief.

You hold the novel you'd been ready to slide onto a high shelf tightly to your chest, your heart running away from you.

"Yes."

His hand rises from his side, hovering near your cheek. And then he cups it in his palm. "You're here."

You swallow nervously, unsure how to even respond. So you don't. "You were looking for a book?"

His brows furrow, hand dropping away. "That's it? You...you disappear for a goddamn year—more than—and that's all I get? No—no explanation, or—"

His voice is raised now, that vein near his temple throbbing in irritation.

"Please lower your voice. I'm at work."

He's left speechless then. He takes a step closer.

You lean your head back, looking up at him.

For how long?"

Your brows furrow. "What?"

"How long have you been back in New York?" He asks through gritted teeth.

You tuck a loose curl behind your ear. "About a month."

He stumbles back, laughing without humor, running his hand down his jaw as he nods. "A month. You've been in the city for a month and not once did you—" He shakes his head.

His eyes find their way back to you. "Do you have any idea the hell I went through after you just disappeared in the middle of the night? That next morning you don't show up to work, so I call. Your phone is disconnected. Email was defunct. After work I go to your apartment, only to find it empty, with not so much as a forwarding address left behind. I—" He stops, fuming, shoulders steadily rising and falling as he stares you down.

"I began to think...I actually wondered at one point if you were dead. No one had heard from you. You just dropped off the face of the goddamn Earth. Where the hell did you even go?"

"Alaska."

His jaw falls open slightly, his eyes searching your own, sure that you can't be serious.

"Alaska," he repeats back to you.

You nod gently.

"We have a fight, so you move across the country. What—did...did you seriously drive that entire way?"

It had nothing to do with the fight. It was due to a reason that was so much worse. You wish it had been due to that instead.

How many times had you blamed yourself? Told yourself that if you'd just never bothered asking him, after all those nights together, with him buried inside of you, 'what are we', then it never would've happened.

But you know now that it's no one's fault except one person's. But that individual is neither you nor him. Even if you'd believed so heavily at one time otherwise.

"Yes."

"Why the hell would you do something like that?"

"It gave me time to think."

He takes a step closer. "Why the hell are you being so short with me?"

You turn back around, finally putting the novel you'd been holding away, picking up another from your book cart, ignoring your shaking hands. "I have to get back to work now."

He stands there, continuing to stare at you.

How did you get here? The two of you? He used to...he used to know everything about you. Used to know every inch of you. Whether in the king-sized bed in his apartment, on a marble countertop, or his office desk—he did.

You still smell like warm cinnamon, though. That much has remained the same, at least.

Even if everything else is different now.

"You came back to work at a bookstore. Do they even have benefits?"

Why wouldn't you have came back to him instead?

"I have no interest in returning to office work and answering to lawyers again. I'm a different person now. I want different things."

"You mean you had no interest in returning to me."

You sigh, turning around, grabbing your cart and pushing past him. "I'm not interested in arguing, Harvey."

His heart jumps at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue.

Like when yours used to roll off of his between your soft thighs. Late at night. The city glittering outside those large glass windows as he held you close, tasting you while you cried out for him in pleasure.

He quickly grabs your elbow, turning you back to him. "I deserve an explanation."

You wrap your arms around yourself. "Do you truly need one?"

He looks at you incredulously. "How can you even ask that?"

You glance out the window, watching for a moment as people mill past, one entering the store—a small bell ringing up front to signal their arrival, welcoming them—and then drag your eyes back to the man in front of you.

"Tonight, then. Once everyone else has left the office."

"You can't tell me now?" He asks, arms flying out from his side in exasperation, hands then settling on his hips.

"You want an explanation, that's my stipulation for giving it."

His eyes flit between both of yours before he finally gives a small, terse nod. "Fine."

Harvey leans back in his seat, hands clasped in his lap—his jacket and tie forgotten atop his desk—as he waits patiently for you to explain yourself. To finally answer the mystery that is your whereabouts for the last year.

You study him for a moment, wondering how to even begin.

Going over this potential conversation for hours in your head after seeing him at the bookstore had been no help, as it now turns out.

You look out the window, at the neighboring skyscrapers, lights slowly turning off as people finally head home for the evening to their loved ones.

And then you look back to Harvey. "I need you to understand that what happened to me isn't your fault anymore than it is mine. That I'm okay now. It took a long time for me to be, but I am."

He just looks at you with knitted brows, wondering where this is going as he rests a bent elbow atop an arm of the chair, finger resting over his lips, thumb gripping his chin, while he remains silent.

"The night we fought...after you—" You want desperately to word this in a non-blaming way. "After you went home, I did, too. It was late, and there were no taxis around. So I told myself just to walk until I spotted one."

You swallow thickly, looking down to your hands. Even now they still tremble slightly. You hate him for still having such a hold over you.

"He came out of nowhere. I didn't see him. He grabbed me, drug me into an alley. He had a knife. Told me what would happen if I screamed. So I stayed quiet."

Everything is so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"He raped me."

Harvey's chin trembles.

"Twice. I just...let him. I was terrified. All I could think the entire time that he was inside of me was...this is how I'm going to die. Everything I ever wanted—meant to do—it's lost to me now. I'll die in this alley with this man's...him leaking out of me. And I'll be the girl on the news who was raped and murdered next to a dumpster. That's how I'll be remembered. That will have been the summation of my life: what he did to me."

You pull nervously at your fingers. "After he was finished, he left me lying there. Once I finally got myself home I wasn't—I wasn't thinking clearly. I took a shower, I threw up, I didn't sleep. First thing in the morning, I called a moving company. Told them I wanted movers to come in, box up all my things, and that i was going to Alaska. I'd always dreamt of seeing it. So I went."

You look at him again, your stomach sinking when you see the tears shimmering in his eyes, the wobbling of his lips.

"Now you know."

He rises suddenly. "I'm going to be sick."

He rushes out the glass door of his office and you give him a moment before following after him into the men's restroom.

You find him leaning over a sink, splashing cold water onto his face as he cries.

"Harvey," you say softly.

He quickly picks up a handful of folded paper towels and wipes his face dry before looking at you.

"Sweetheart, I—" His face crumples. "I'm so fucking sorry. This is all my goddamn fault."

You had wanted so dearly to avoid this. You knew he would put all of the blame upon himself.

He comes toward you, taking you into his arms, holding you to his chest as he cups the back of your head, his body shaking as he sobs into your hair.

"I'm so sorry."

You slide your hands up his back, quietly shooshing him. "It's no one's but his. I don't blame you. It's okay."

"It's not okay. I should've driven you home that night. Instead, I left here angry. Told you to find your own way home. When all you did was—was ask me what we were."

He begins to cry harder.

You remain quiet.

Finally, he pulls away slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands resting against the small of your back. "You never told the police?"

"Like I said, I wasn't thinking clearly. I just...all i could think about was leaving. Going to Alaska. Nothing else mattered to me at that time but getting there."

He firmly presses his lips to your forehead, tears slipping from his eyes. "I want you to know I thought about you every day. That I missed you. That you were—you'd always been more to me than just sex. Losing you—this—is one of the greatest regrets of my life. One of my biggest mistakes. So many times I wished I had just told you how I felt. Had apologized for the shit I said that night instead of just leaving."

His eyes flutter closed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

He knows that even if you do, he never will. He deserves to live with this. All those panic attacks that'd overtaken him in your absence...he had deserved them and so much worse. He should've had a fucking heart attack instead. Maybe then he would've gotten his penance.

"There's nothing to forgive."

He knows he'll never agree.

“Hi.”

Your eyes close for just a moment as you take a deep breath before opening them again and turning around.

Harvey gives you a soft smile.

“I’m on lunch right now,” he states with a shrug, stepping closer.

“Oh.”

He keeps his shaking hands in his pockets as he continues.

“I wanted—” he pauses.

There’s no not-obvious way to word this.

He starts again. “I imagine the answer is yes, but I’m asking anyway: do you have a car yet?”

You nod. “I do. I bought it in Alaska. It’s not a Rolls Royce, but it gets me around.”

You smile. “I’m happy with it.”

Wanting to purchase you one now would’ve still been too little too late, he thinks.

He finally jumps into the deep end. “I’d like to take over paying for your rent.”

Your eyes flit between his, your stomach sinking as you just then notice the dark circles beneath them. “You look exhausted.”

You reach up, cupping his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at your gentle touch that he’s missed so much.

“Did you…you didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

His eyes slowly open. “Work. New client. It’s a big case.”

You know he’s lying, but don’t push it.

“Thank you for the offer, but I can pay my own rent, Harvey.”

“Utilities, then.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “You don’t need to do this. I told you that you didn’t need to blame yourself. That I didn’t. You don’t have any reason to feel guilty.”

He glances away for a moment, thinking, shaking his head slightly before he returns to looking at you. “You can tell yourself—tell me—all you want that it’s not my fault, but it is. All of it. All it would’ve taken was one car ride and this would’ve been avoided. But just like always, I was being selfish. Thinking of one person. And I cost you everything because of it.”

He steps closer to you, removing his trembling hand from his pocket, clasping it around your upper arm gently. “Let me take you to dinner, then. Something. Please. I’m begging you.”

I have to do something. I’m drowning and you’re my only source of air. I’m so sorry.

Please.

Your lips slowly turn upwards into a small smile. “How about I make you dinner instead?”

His brows furrow. “I should be the one doing that for you.”

You shake your head. “You owe me nothing. You want to do something for me? Then let me do this.”

You’d always been this way. It was one of the reasons losing you had hit him so incredibly hard. You didn’t use him. Not for money or fine things. You didn’t care that he lived in an expensive high-rise apartment. Didn’t lust after his fancy suits. Didn’t care about his proud title of being the best closer in the city.

You just wanted his attention and time. You wanted him—saw him. Or, at least, had.

Finally, he nods. “If that’s really what you want.”

“It is.”

You stick a few beaded bookmarks into their display case, then a pack of fruit-shaped erasers next to them and Harvey just watches you all the while.

Somehow being here suits you. Surrounded by books and trinkets, soft jazz music playing overhead as people mingle silently about the shelves.

Working for someone like him was never going to be where you belonged. You had a heart that was far too honest and good and pure for a law firm—whether you were only serving as an office assistant or not—and loving.

He misses when it had once loved him.

But he’d chosen to throw that all away. And for what? ‘Freedom’? Freedom from what? To do what?

Continue having meaningless one-night stands with shallow women he barely even saw the faces of? Not that he had wanted to. Because the second he did—his erection was lost, along with the fantasy. They weren’t the girl he desperately needed them to be. They couldn’t fill the massive, gaping hole in his chest that your absence had left behind.

So he’d stopped.

Ten months it had been since he’d last been inside a woman. Ten months since he’d so much as wanted to be.

But standing next to you now… Looking you over, your soft curled hair, the satin bow you have tied at the back, your brown dress and tights with a pair of boots—you never had bothered with stilettos or heels in general—and smelling the sweet scent of cinnamon that clings to you—buying you a bottle of Chanel had just been a waste of money that one time, he now knew—he feels his body coming alive again.

And it’s such an incredible sensation after going without it so long. Without you.

Not that he has you back.

He’s unsure that he ever will. In any sense. But if there’s even a minuscule chance… He will do quite literally whatever it takes to win you back. Anything.

Losing you again just might kill him the next time. He’d been surprised more than once that his panic attacks hadn’t landed him in the hospital when he was gasping for breath as his heart squeezed with agonizing pain in his chest every time he looked at your empty desk. Every time he redialed a number that no longer existed, only to be greeted by that empty, robotic voice apologizing that you couldn’t be reached. He’d sent numerous emails to an address that only ever bounced back. But who else did he have to talk to with you being gone?

No one.

He had no one. And he’d made it that way.

All his fault.

Finally, he speaks. “Can I get your address? I doubt you’re at the same apartment as before, but—”

You turn around, finishing up with the mini-notebooks you’d just been seeing to putting away. “I’m not.”

He pulls out his phone and glances up to you, ready to begin typing, taking this in stride as a good first step at repairing what he’s broken.

You swipe the tomatoes you’d just finished dicing up on your cutting board into the pot atop your stove, glancing back to your tablet on the countertop.

“I can smell it from here. Hardly seems fair that you’re making one of my favorites for another man.”

You smile widely, shaking your head as you start on the green bell pepper next. “You say that about everything I make.”

He grins. “Because you’re such a good cook, baby.”

You stare at him for a moment. “One of us has to be.”

He points his finger toward the webcam. “Hey, I can make a really great bowl of microwavable ramen, as you well know.”

“Is that what you’re surviving off of out there?”

He shakes his head. “No. Crabs—sushi.”

“Oh yeah?” Your lip twitches. “Diving in to catch dinner between shifts for the rest of the crew?”

He studies you for a moment, his own lip twitching as well. “You know how I like it raw, baby.”

You burst into a fit of laughter then.

He smiles warmly, wishing desperately he was there to touch you—kiss you. “It’s so good to hear that. I’ve missed it. You have no idea how much I miss you.”

Your laughs slowly cease, your heart aching. “I do.”

You look back down to the pepper, cutting it into small pieces. “It’s been…difficult. Sleeping at night. Without you here to…to hold me.”

Your eyes flit back to the screen.

He doesn’t hesitate to ask it. “Do you need to come back?”

Your brows furrow. “I just got here—”

“Doesn’t matter. If you need to come back to Alaska, then you do what you did before: you get movers in there tomorrow morning and we get them to drive it all back. I’ll get you on a plane first thing so you can come home.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “It’s not about that. It’s just being apart from you. Which I still would be, even if I jumped on a plane—while living in darkness for the next month all alone—I can’t do that without you. Having you there was the only thing that got me through it last time.”

He nods. “I know. I just had to ask.”

You finish up with the pepper, adding it in next.

“I think it’s just that when I first got here—between settling in and finding a job—I was keeping myself busy. Now I have more time to think. Dwell…”

“On him?”

You glance to the screen, wondering which one he’s referring to. So you simply ask. “Which one do you mean?”

“Either. Both.”

“I know I’ll never see my rapist again. Or, rather, if I walked by him on the street, I obviously wouldn’t recognize him. It’s in the past now. I worked past it in therapy. You know how much I liked going to group,” you say with a shrug, and he nods with a smile.

He’d been grateful to the people you met there for helping pull you back from the edge. Liked that you enjoyed going and talking to and confiding in them so much.

You continue. “As for Harvey…I just hate that he’s going to have to live with it now. Like me. That all the time it took for me to no longer blame myself—he’s at that starting line.”

Charlies thinks how best for a moment to word it, but there’s really no other way to. “It’s not your job to absolve him of his guilt.”

You glance to him, mentally raising a brow at his tone. There was only one of you who had moved past heaping blame upon him.

“He couldn’t have known.”

He sighs, about to have a conversation the two of you have repeated time and again. “No, but he allowed a young woman to walk home alone late at night in New York. I don’t give a shit how angry he was—not that you asking for someone to love you back is something I can ever imagine being angry at you for. Nothing excuses it.”

He stops talking then, knowing he could go further—has in the past. To just throw you away like that… He can’t fathom it. Not now. Not with you being his entire life. But he’s never been the kind of man to take good things for granted, either.

“I could’ve gotten on my office phone and just called a cab instead of hoping to spot one from the street.”

He rests his arms atop the desk he’s seated at, softening.

“It’s one person’s fault,” he reminds you.

Even if he’ll always resent Harvey, even minimally—doesn’t matter that he has no idea what he so much as looks like—he will. Because he had hurt the girl he loves in such a terrible way.

You nod, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You sigh, grinning. “So, about your famous ramen—”

There’s a knock at the door then and you turn your head in that direction.

“He there?” Charlie asks.

You set your knife down, turning back to him. “Well, it’s either him or my boyfriend.”

“That’s it, I’m getting on a plane,” he replies with a playful smile.

You giggle.

“Alright, I’ll let you go. I need to soon myself anyway.”

You nod, ignoring the tears that sting your eyes as you force a smile. “Be careful. And…make sure you’re eating enough. And staying warm. And—”

“I am, baby. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Because you don’t worry about me?”

He shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Another knock.

You sigh.

“I love you, sweetheart. Let me know how it goes tomorrow.”

“I will. I love you, too. More than anything.”

“Bye, baby.”

“Bye.”

Once he’s ended the video chat, you stare at your reflection in the black screen and your face crumples as you wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder if he ever does the same—falls apart for even just a moment after being forced to say goodbye yet again. Doing it dozens of times still has yet to make it any easier.

Finally, you take a deep breath, gathering yourself, and head for the front door.

“I brought wine. Hope that’s okay,” Harvey says, handing you the bottle.

You take it from him with a smile and a nod. “It is. Thank you. You really didn’t need to, though.”

You head back in the direction of the kitchen, retrieving a corkscrew from a drawer, and hand it to him.

“Would you mind? I need to stir the pasta.”

He shakes his head, taking it from you—his fingers brushing against yours—watching as you turn back toward the stove, doing a brief taste-test.

Once he’s opened the bottle, you nod toward the cabinet next to him. “Wine glasses are in there.”

He retrieves two, handing you one once he’s filled it enough for a sample.

“Tell me what you think.”

You take a small sip, nodding. “It’s good. I’m just glad it’s not white.”

He grins, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, I got a kick out of the look on your face the night I bought a five thousand dollar bottle of it to try and impress you, if nothing else.”

You add in a bit of Italian seasoning, placing the small bottle back on the spice rack. “I was just as happy to have a glass of ice water.”

He stares at the back of your beautiful head of hair with a soft smile. “I know.”

Harvey takes a chance to take a look around your apartment then, stepping into the living room that’s just behind the counter he’d been previously leaned back against.

It’s small, but cozy.

Warm.

Homey.

Like you.

To his right is the front door he’d just come through, directly in front of him your couch, a coffee table in front of it, a small entertainment center with a flat screen standing atop it pushed against the wall, bookshelves on either side of it.

Behind the couch are more shelves with floor-length windows in-between. Beside the entertainment center is the bathroom and beside it, your presumable bedroom.

Blankets, pillows, books, candles, plants, and adorable knick-knacks are very-much in abundance. Along with rugs here and there—paintings, and a quilt hanging on the wall that has patches of warm, neutral colors sewn together.

“You get this in Alaska?” He calls from the living room, taking a sip of his wine.

“Hm?”

“The quilt by your front door.”

“Oh! Yes, I did. There was a craft fair in town. I entered into a raffle for it and I won.”

You’d wanted it so badly that Charlie had joked that if you didn’t win it, he’d mug the person who did just to get it for you.

Harvey smirks. A craft fair. Sounds like you.

He returns to the kitchen then, admiring your small herb planters resting on the windowsill in front of the sink.

And then he studies the various magnets stuck to your fridge. One being that of the Empire State Building, which makes him smile.

And then his brows furrow, a cold feeling overtaking him as he slips a photo free from a magnet of the state of Alaska that holds it in-place.

A man with a short beard and short, messy blonde hair smiles at the camera—your arms wrapped around his neck as you place a firm kiss to his cheek—snow-capped mountains in the background, the sun shining in the distance.

“Who—who is this?” He asks, glancing to you.

You turn off the burner on the stove, glancing to him, then the photo he grips between his fingers. “Oh, that’s Charlie. My fiance.”

His heart squeezes painfully, and he suddenly feels lightheaded.

“You’re getting married?” He asks with a tone of disbelief.

You keep your back turned to him as you retrieves plates from the cabinet. “In a little over a month, when I go back to Alaska.”

He stumbles back, dropping the picture. He coughs, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, struggling to breathe.

He had thought he was past these.

The world begins to move in slow motion, his body feeling disconnected from his mind—heart jumping and beating unevenly in his chest. His hands begin to tremble as his throat tightens and constricts.

He rushes toward the bathroom, ignoring as you call for him in concern as he slams the door behind him, doubling over the sink before his legs give out and he falls to the floor—knocking something over.

“Harvey!” you call from outside the bathroom with a panicked tone.

You knock a few times in rapid succession while he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to count backwards from ten—desperate to breathe.

You finally open the door and your eyes widen in fear at the sight of him doubled over, a hand clutching his chest as he takes in wheezing breaths.

You drop to your knees in front of him, taking his face firmly between your hands as your eyes flit between his—wide and frightened. “What do I—oh God, should—do I need to call an ambulance? Are—are you having a heart attack?!”

He swiftly takes one of your hands in his, squeezing hard. “Panic—”

You shake your head, desperate to understand. “Are—a panic attack?”

He nods repeatedly.

You seat yourself next to him. “What do I do? Are you supposed to take something for it? Is it in your pocket? I don’t—”

He suddenly wraps his arms around you then, pulling you toward him, burying his face between your breasts, closing his eyes as he begins trying to count again while he breathes in your comforting scent.

You suddenly quiet, reaching up and wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while you run the fingers of your other shaking hand through his hair.

You have half-a-mind to start singing him a nursery rhyme, having no idea what else to do—desperate to help—but eventually decide against it.

Finally, his breathing steadies, his body loosens, and he’s left feeling utterly drained as his heart returns to a normal rhythm at last.

He doesn’t let go of you, however.

“You’re leaving,” he mumbles, cheek resting against the plane between your soft breasts while he listens to your heart for comfort.

You caress his head in your hands. “In a month, yes.”

He tightens his arms around your body. As if holding you now will prevent you from leaving again later.

“Why come back in the first place just to leave again? And so soon? Especially if you have…him there waiting for you?”

“Did you know it’s essentially night in Alaska for two months? Every year?”

He shrugs. “I think I heard that once.”

He closes his eyes.

“The only thing that got me through that darkness last time was Charlie. I think I would’ve had an easier time about it if—” You stop.

“If you hadn’t been running from what happened to you here,” he finishes.

You swallow, nodding. “He’s working on an off-shore oil rig right now. I just…the thought of going through those two months all alone—sixty days—I couldn’t. So we talked about it. I know New York is a long ways away. But I came here for two reasons. One, it’s familiar. So there was comfort there. Two, to face my fears. Which was—is—simultaneously uncomfortable, but…it’s something I needed to do for myself.”

“So what are you going to do when you go back and in another ten months it gets dark again?”

“Once I get back, we get married, and then we’re moving out west. To Wyoming. And then we’ll start our new life together.”

He feels his heart stutter again.

“I thought—” He stops, opening his eyes again, ignoring the tears that cause them to sting. “I thought you’d come back for good.”

He pulls back, looking at you. “I guess that’s why you didn’t try to reach out to me. That, and the fact that I only serve as a reminder.”

You shake your head, taking his face between your hands. “You’re not.”

“Then explain it to me. Because had I not walked into that bookstore I never would’ve known. Would I?”

You release him then, settling your hands in your lap, crossing your legs. “You’d made it clear that last night that we were done. So I moved on. I saw no reason to try and get back in touch with you.”

He leans back against the tub.

“Did you not—” He stops, sighing, not wanting to make it about himself. “Somewhere along the way, you didn’t wonder what you suddenly up and disappearing would’ve left me to think?”

He looks at you then, watching as you stare down at your hands, fidgeting with your engagement ring that he’d failed to bother with noticing before.

Entitled.

That’s what he was for thinking you couldn’t have possibly moved on. For thinking that you still belonged, somehow, to him within your heart.

You shrug. “Honestly? I figured you would’ve gotten past it fairly quickly. Even at that, that you’d have my position filled before the end of the week.”

He turns toward you, resting an arm on the edge of the tub, shaking his head. “That’s how little you thought you meant to me?”

Your eyes meet his then. “Isn’t that what you said?”

He shuts his mouth, his eyes filling with sadness for you. For the destruction he wrought.

How many times has he claimed that he doesn’t get attached, when he knows otherwise? But it’s only when the other person dares ask for more that he finally lashes out. As if he’s not guilty of wanting it, too.

He’s just too much of a coward to allow himself to have it.

And now? Now it has lost him everything.

Again.

He slumps back.

“I don’t…remember you having panic attacks before,” you say quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “They started after you left.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh.”

He crosses his arms. “They got pretty bad. I was having them every day. Sometimes multiple times just in one. The day I collapsed in front of a client was the day I knew I had to finally get help. That they weren’t going away on their own.”

He could still remember it.

He’d been in a conference room, meeting with them, and a girl had walked past—from the back she had resembled you so closely—so he’d froze as he stared, mouth still hanging open from being mid-sentence. From her hair, to the way she was dressed—she’d even had the right build. And then she’d turned around to speak to someone and he’d seen her face.

And his body had gone cold all over, and then his knees gave out.

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”

He smirks, wryly. “My therapist tells me I have abandonment issues, apparently.”

Your face crumples. “I didn’t intend for my leaving to… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Harvey.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” he says, settling one of his hands over yours.

“I’ll stop as soon as you do,” you say with a small smile.

He doesn’t return your humor.

You sigh then. “Would you still like to have dinner?”

His eyes flit to the doorway. “If I’m being honest, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

He twines his fingers between yours.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “I could send you home with some tupperware?”

His head jerks back to you. “You want me to leave?”

Your brows furrow and you begin shaking your head. “No, of course not. I just meant when you are ready to go.”

There’s a beat of silence before he finally stands.

He offers you his hand. “I should at least try it, since you went through all the trouble to cook for me.”

The two of you remained fairly silent through dinner.

Harvey had eaten slowly, but he’d cleaned his plate, which had pleased you to see.

You’d told him about how beautiful Alaska is, and about some of the odd jobs you did there—waitressing, assisting at a small library, cleaning at a local rec center. And he’d told you about some of his recent cases.

It became quickly apparent that the two of you weren’t sure how to talk anymore. Not unless it was about the elephant—rather, elephants—in the room.

Harvey was chomping at the bit to discuss Charlie, but the thought of willingly asking about him—the man who had taken you from him…he’d refused.

So, he’d instead stared at you every chance he got—trying his utmost not to make it glaringly obvious, but being near you again made it near-impossible not to.

He smiled softly as you gushed about the serene nature of Alaska—the mountains, snow, and rivers, the animals and lakes. The small-town people, and how much you enjoyed the jobs you did and the small house you’d rented.

And then you’d brought up group therapy. And how much it had meant to you—helped you. How Charlie had been the one to encourage you to try it. And you were beyond thankful that he had.

Harvey had smiled and told you that he was happy for you—about all of it. But it only served as further proof of the things that still meant the most to you—not being material ones, that is.

He’d been so ignorant to think that money was ever going to be the thing which would make and keep you happy.

Even if that fact had only served to make him fall even harder for you as time went on. But it’d also made being with you all the more difficult—at times, at least. At other instances, it made it as easy as breathing.

In any other relationship, pleasing a woman was a simple task to accomplish by gifting her a box from Tiffany or a shopping bag from Saks—dinner and drinks at a high-end restaurant.

But every time he presented you with a bracelet of sterling silver, or a Swiss watch, or a new dress from Dolce and Gabbana, you’d give him a smile and a polite ‘thank you’, but the look in your eyes always said the same thing: What do I do with this? It’s not what I’m here for—you are; I want you. Can’t you see it yet?

You didn’t want a brand new diamond necklace. You preferred an antique locket—preferably with the photos still inside—from a flea market. You didn’t want skimpy lingerie that cost a few hundred dollars—a warm sweater from Target was enough to please you. You didn’t want thousand dollar dinners at bougie restaurants. You preferred Chinese takeout and a movie playing in the background as you curled into his side on the couch. You didn’t care about being driven around town in sports cars. You enjoyed walks in the park, with your arm wrapped around his, while you sprinkled seed for the birds and watched families playing with their children.

“Did you keep any of it?” He finally asks.

He wouldn’t blame you if you had set it all ablaze with a bottle of lighter fluid instead.

“Hm?”

“All the gifts I bought you.”

You set your fork down, settling your hands in your lap, looking down nervously.

Your body language alone serves as his answer.

“I donated it, actually.”

He doesn’t hate you for it. He’s not even surprised by it. You having a charitable heart wasn’t a new development.

He’d tried taking you shopping once uptown, and after showing you a three-thousand dollar dress he’d wished to see you try on, along with a pair of Jimmy Choos, you’d looked at the price tags and then at him—your smile quickly fading.

You’d merely asked him, as you placed it all back, for him to use that money to make a difference instead. So, the next morning, he’d called you into his office and made you watch as he wrote a check for the same amount to a local homeless shelter.

His heart had melted as he watched you fight back tears at the gesture.

He’d done it for you. Just to make you happy.

He hates the look of guilt on your face at your answer. So he decides to lighten the mood. “Even the lingerie?”

You grin and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“I did keep one thing.”

He raises a brow.

You stand, padding over to your record player and you retrieve an album and return to the table.

He smiles, nodding as he looks it over. His first gift to you.

“The thing you kept was the one thing I didn’t buy.”

He hands it back to you, but his grip stays strong as you go to grab it.

Your eyes meet his.

“Do you remember the night I gave it to you?”

You nod.

He stands, releasing it, and you quickly hug it to your chest.

“Do you want to do it again?” He asks, one hand sliding into his pocket, the other cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against the apple of it.

You take a small step back, shaking your head—knowing that one thing had led to another that evening, and that you’ll never go down that road again.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

A beat of silence, and then he asks the question that's been gnawing at him all through dinner. "Does he know about us? What we had? Does he know I'm here right now?"

You nod, heading toward the kitchen. "We have no secrets between us. Honesty is something we both cherish and something we both agreed upon early-on. That we would tell each other everything. No matter how uncomfortable it may be. Being able to bare our souls to one another... We don't see a reason in being together if we can't."

He wonders what kind of man would allow you to be alone with someone like him after all he's done. All the pain he's caused. But even more than that: after the sort of relationship that'd carried on between the two of you before.

A better one, perhaps. One that doesn't make you promise that you belong only to him while he refuses to give you the same in return.

A man that trusts you wholly.

Harvey leans back against the counter to the right of you, watching as you finish with loading the dishwasher, wiping down the sink.

His heart pounds rapidly in his chest—so hard it hurts, his mouth dry, and stomach twisting with anxiety.

He shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t even be thinking it.

There’s a lot he shouldn’t have.

He should be a better man than this, but he’d made a promise to himself, and he was nothing if not a man of his word.

“I want you to leave him and come back to me.”

Your spine stiffens.

Meanwhile, he ignores it and goes full-steam head.

“Marry me. We’ll go to the courthouse first thing in the morning—as soon as they open—and become husband and wife. I’ll buy you any diamond ring you like. I’ll throw you as big a wedding as you like. I’ll get you a brand new car—fresh off the lot. I’ll buy you any house you want—fully furnished—in any neighborhood you want. And if you want your job back at the firm, I’ll make it happen. With a raise. Better benefits. Whatever you wish. Just tell me, and I’ll do it. You won’t have to worry about another thing ever again if you just say yes. I’ll take care of you.”

He grows silent then, his underarms sweating, his body practically vibrating from nerves.

And then you reply quietly, and simply. “No.”

He refuses to accept that as your final answer.

“I know this seems sudden. But I made a promise to myself that if you ever came back I would fight like hell to keep you. To fix what I’d broken. I wouldn’t just let you go again without giving it everything I could to win you back.”

He steps over to you then, turning you around, cupping one side of your face in his hand while the other slides around your waist to hold you close. “I lost you once. I don’t intend to do it again. Next time…next time it might just finally kill me. I can’t live without you. I know that now. I learned from my mistakes. Just—come back to me. Please.”

“Charlie is my home,” you say quietly, tears shimmering in your eyes.

His own flit between yours. “Is he willing to give you everything I just offered? Can he give you the kind of life that I can?”

You press your hands to his chest, but he refuses to loosen his hold.

“He’s not buying me a house, Harvey. He’s going to build us one—our dream home. He isn’t purchasing me some flashy diamond ring. He’s giving me his mother’s. And he’s not trying to bribe me back into a relationship with the offer of an empty, unfulfilling job. He’s going to provide me a life where I can stay home and care for our children while he takes care of the rest. And his proposal wasn’t an attempt at rectifying some mistake of previously taking me for granted. He proposed because he knew early-on that he couldn’t imagine going back to living a life without me in it.”

He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing.

“After all this time you still don’t see me. Don’t understand me.”

He shakes his head, his eyes searching your own, wanting elaboration.

“You still think that money will solve all of your problems when that was never what I cared about. Harvey, you had me. I gave you my heart, but you threw it away, because all you wanted me for was my body. It took me driving over four thousand miles away to see things clearly. But I finally did. You treated me like some…some call girl—some prostitute—instead of with respect. You made me feel disposable. But I put up with it because I thought if I held on tight enough, and for long enough, you’d eventually love me back. Even now you’re willing to ruin another man’s life, so long as it gets you what you want. It has nothing to do with me.”

“That is bullshit,” he spits. “It has everything to do with you and you know it. You really think I’d ever make these kinds of offers to another woman? You’re what I want. Baby,” he leans in closer to you. “I’m sorry, alright?”

Tears fill his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I did. That I broke your heart. That I destroyed your life. But mine was left in shambles, too, the day you left. I can’t take losing you twice.”

You shake your head. “You don’t get to try and guilt-trip me into a marriage with someone I don’t want to be with anymore.”

He flinches.

“The truth is that you and I would’ve never worked out in the long run. We want different things. We’re too different. Charlie doesn’t buy what other men make. He does it himself with his own two hands. He’s not materialistic. He’s sentimental like me—he finds joy in the little things and the quiet moments. And he’s not ashamed to let other people in—to be vulnerable. If he had been…”

You sniffle. “I don’t know if I’d even be alive right now if it weren’t for him. He came into my life when I desperately needed someone and I fell for him instantly, despite being terrified. Of everything. He saw me. And I tried to pull away. I can’t tell you how many times I did. But he knew why. And he refused to go. He held on tight with everything he had because he knew from the first day he set eyes on me that…that I was what he wanted. Who. That we’re meant to be together.”

Harvey’s chin wobbles as he rapidly grasps for something—anything—to say to still turn this around.

He stares down at you. “Tell me you don’t feel anything for me, then. That you don’t still love me.”

You grow quiet for a moment, a tear slipping down your cheek, which he gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“A part of me may always love you, Harvey. But I’m not in love with you. Not anymore.”

His brows furrow. “What’s the goddamn difference?”

“Loving you means hoping that you find what I have. Being in love with you, means hoping it’s with me. And I don’t.”

He lets out a small sob, his heart breaking in two.

“Charlie is my home” you repeat. “I don’t…expect you to understand what that feels like—”

“I know exactly what it feels like,” he says, cutting you short. “Now imagine losing that suddenly and without warning. What kind of hell do you think that would put you through?”

“I didn’t make that decision. You chose to let go. I offered you my love on a silver platter and you threw it back in my face. But in the end I’m glad you did. Even after what happened to me… I never believed before that everything happens for a reason like so many say. I just saw life as a series of random choices we’re all forced to make every day. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it. It’s just the way things are. But when I met him that changed. We were meant to find each other.”

Finally he says the only thing he has left to try and pull you back.

“But I love you.”

Your lip trembles. “I love him. With everything I have. My heart, my mind, my body, my soul. I gave him everything I can because I want him to have it. Because I trust him to hold those things in the palms of his hands. Because with him, they all have value. With him I feel like I do. I never felt that with you. With you I just…settled.”

The two of you stand there, staring at one another, him wracking his mind with something else to offer.

“I’ll move to Wyoming and open my own firm, then.”

You glance away, shaking your head.

“I’ll…I’ll build you a house. I’ll figure out how. And you can be a housewife if that’s really what you want—”

You pull away from him. “Stop.”

“I can’t. I let go once and it destroyed both of us. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Your wants are not the only things that matter.”

He grows angry. But not with you. Himself.

He knows it’s over and done. Has been since that last night.

He hurt you. In such an unimaginable way. He wants you to repay it.

“You really think some rough neck that works on an oil rig is a better man than me?”

Your eyes fill with loathing then. You he can talk about. Charlie? No. That you won’t allow.

“So he has rough hands. As if that means anything—”

“It means everything to me.”

“He won’t be enough for you. You’ll get bored with playing Little House. And when you do—”

“Stop.”

“When you do—”

“I said stop it, Harvey. I know what you’re doing.”

He shuts his mouth.

Your anger quickly melts away into heartbreak. For him.

“We can’t do this to each other again. We can’t let our last words to each other be in anger. Twice. Haven’t you learned yet? Don’t you get tired of it? Punishing yourself?”

He looks away, crossing his arms, finally breaking as he begins to cry. “I fucking destroyed your life.”

His shoulders begin to shake as he sobs.

You come toward him, wrapping your arms around him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you into him.

“I’m so goddamn sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You choke back a sob. “Shh. It’s not your fault. I forgive you. You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to live without you.”

“I know.”

“Please come back to me, I’ll do anything you say. I can fix it.”

The lump in your throat grows so large that you can’t form words over it, so you instead begin to cry with him.

Once you’ve both begun to quiet and calm, you break the silence. “You won’t feel like this forever, Harvey. I promise.”

You pull back just enough to take his face between your hands. “I thought I’d never make it out of that dark tunnel that swallowed me whole. But one day I found a glimmer of light at the end and I fought with everything I had to hold onto it. The pain of what happened to me will always be with me, but one day it was just…easier to bear. Especially when I found someone willing—wanting—to help me carry it.”

You press a kiss to his forehead. “One day you will find her: the woman you’re meant to be with. You just have to give yourself permission to be happy. Give her permission to make you as much. And you cherish what you build together.”

“What if I already did?” He asks, tears slipping down his cheeks.

You smile. “Sweetheart, we would’ve eventually made each other miserable. Because one of us would’ve had to settle so the other could get the life they wanted. I hate the city and you would’ve hated the country. I hate the idea of dedicating my life to a career, while yours is your life. You like flashy, expensive things, while I prefer second-hand finds that I can give another life to. You may’ve loved me, but you would’ve hated the life we had and vice-versa.”

He pulls you close to him again, cupping the back of your head. “I love you so much.”

More tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Nothing you say is going to—

“And it’s because I love you that I know I have to let you go. For your sake this time instead of mine.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You feel like home to me. But that’s the thing about home—is that it’s just that: a feeling. And in time…maybe I can find it again.”

You nod, smiling. “I think I might know a good place to start when you’re ready.”

You lean back, gently running your fingertips through the short, soft hairs just above his ear. “She knows everything about you. And she’s been waiting all this time. Get Donna back as your secretary. Tell her how much she means to you, and go from there. Don’t let her slip through your fingers again, or you’ll never forgive yourself. She’s the one, Harvey. I know it. Just like he is for me. You don’t even have to go looking, because she’s already right there in front of you. It’s not too late.”

His eyes study yours for just a moment, and then he nods.

“Thank you,” he starts. “For giving me a chance to do it right this time.”

“I think it’s part of why I came back. I just didn’t realize it until now. Being able to say goodbye the right way. Not with anger or heated words. I think this closure is something we both needed.”

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, and you let him.

He kisses you.

And you kiss him back.

And then he whispers goodbye.

As do you.

And then he leaves.

And it’s with peace in his heart, which beats steadily in his chest.

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (06)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: brief mentions of crimes (drugs, robbery, abduction), brief mentions of sex and hormones

a/n;; i have risen from the dead, everyone. I know it's been a while since I last updated (4 months 💀) But, please enjoy this chapter and hope that I do not disappear for another few more months until the next update lmao. Also posting this update while I'm on my lunchbreak lmao

You didn’t think that figuring out a place to meetup with Seungcheol would be difficult, but alas, it was. The places Seungcheol had initially suggested were either too far or the price range of their menus could amount to at least a month’s worth of your rent. Maybe it was the years of not seeing him that you had forgotten his parents had their own businesses, which obviously, means money is never an issue for Seungcheol.

After telling him you had to commute to some of the places or either needing to Uber or have Vernon pick you up, Seungcheol found a decently priced cafe near your place with a cosy looking interior design. Having finally settled down on a place to meetup, you now began to stress about an outfit.

You tore through your entire wardrobe before finally panic-calling Aki who agreed to help, on the condition that you tell her everything that will go down at the meetup. You agreed and after hours of outfit try-ons, you settled on a brown oversized sweater, a black pleated skirt, paired together with doc martens loafers.

“Are you sure this looks okay…?” your voice full of uncertainty as you stared at your reflection. Aki, who was on video call on your phone that’s propped up on your dresser, rolls her eyes at your question. “Babes, you’re literally so pretty right now that you could be someone’s gay or bi-awakening. Don’t worry, okay? I'm sure he’s equally nervous of finally seeing you again after what? Almost half a decade?”

“That's a dramatic way to say almost 5 years, but okay.”

“Just be your normal self, ___. Even if he’s changed appearance or physique wise, I'm sure he’s still the same ol’ Seungcheol from more than a decade ago. Well, at least for you, it’s more than a decade.”

“That is true… thanks for helping me out, Aki.”

“Anything for my bestie. Now, go and see your prince charming!”

“Can you and my parents stop calling him my prince charming?” you whined, only for Aki to shoo you through your phone.

“Tell me the deets afterwards! I want all the nitty-gritty - don’t you dare leave anything out!”

Seungcheol got to the cafe an hour earlier than the agreed meeting time. He tried to get some sleep but the adrenaline of being able to see you again kept him up. Sitting at the booth and occasionally glancing at the door, he would try to come up with things to talk about. Of course, he knew he had to explain why he dropped off the face of the earth for years without contacting you. But, he still needed to think of other ways to fix the rift between you both.

“Seungcheol…?”

When he hears his name being called, he lifts up his head and it was as if time had stopped. There you were, shyly standing in front of him as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. A few seconds after he realised he was staring, Seungcheol snapped back into reality. “Have a seat, __.” Ushering to the seat across him, flashing you that gummy smile that still sent your heart running for miles.

You did as told and after placing both your orders to the waitress who came over, Seungcheol nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “So… I didn’t know you were friends with Vernon…” he began, “Let alone a best friend since, y’know, Aki.”

“Yeah, I didn't really have a choice when he came up to me with that awful tie-dye during orientation. I was so glad when he got rid of it with how much my eyes were hurting.”

“That's Vernon for you,” he chuckles, “When he said he invited a friend, I was expecting maybe a classmate since Mingyu did the same with him.”

As you fidget, Seungcheol takes notice and leans his elbows on the table, reaching out a hand. “Hey, no need to be scared, okay? I know it’s been years and you’re most likely overthinking things right now, but I'm still me.”

“Where did you go…?” you asked in a shaky voice, “You just… ghosted me and later on, I found out you’ve been in Seoul for a while. Why… why didn’t you try to reach out?”

Withdrawing his hand and thrumming his fingers against the surface of the table, Seungcheol was silent for a moment before explaining himself. “That weekend when I headed to Seoul to check out Pledis, they had told my parents I qualified for one of their pre-u programmes. But, the slots in Korea were full, and if I did want to join the programme, I had to join their partnering unis abroad. They had Carat University in Japan and An Ode University in Melbourne.”

You quietly listened to Seungcheol as he continued.

While he wouldn’t mind waiting for an empty slot to be available in Pledis but, his parents had encouraged him to enrol into An Ode as they had an apartment in Melbourne. In the event he didn’t want to stay on his own, they’d be more than willing to pay for his dormitory. “They said the enrolment opportunities for pre-u programmes like these are rare… And, since I was given the opportunity, they encouraged me to take the chance.”

“… And you did…”

“I missed you like crazy, _. But, I couldn't get your calls or texts, not even reply nor call you back because I had to wait two weeks to be able to get a new phone and sim card. When I finally did get them, you had changed your number…”

Your face went red with embarrassment at the memory. A few days after your return from Jeju, your parents had brought you to go shop for a new phone and you’ve decided to change your number in the process. Since Seungcheol had dropped off the face of the earth at the time, you thought it wouldn’t matter anyway if you had changed your number since what were the chances of him calling you?

Turns out you were wrong.

“When I finished the programme, I stayed in Melbourne for a year and a half for their business course before transferring back to Korea to finish it in Pledis.”

“That was… that was at least two and a half years ago. Seungcheol, are you… are you telling me within those two years you never bothered to even look for me?”

“I did! I went back to Daegu to look for you, but your parents had told me you went to Pledis! I tried finding you all over the place, but for some reason you were never in my line of sight!”

“Wait, wait,” holding up your hand in disbelief to stop him from talking, “you went to see my parents? They never told me anything!”

“I begged them not to tell you!” he defended, “I wanted it to be a surprise! I wasn’t expecting our first meeting after years to be you witnessing me boxing!”

“How did you get into it in the first place though?” you asked, the waitress arriving with a tray of drinks and some cakes, “I heard you’ve been underground boxing for a year now.” Taking a sip from his drink, Seungcheol stared out the window, watching random cars and pedestrians pass by.

“I’ve been underground boxing for two years, actually, when I was back in Melbourne.” he answered. “A senior saw me during one of my Taekwondo matches during pre-u and invited me to try boxing. A few months later, he introduced me to this trainer who was looking to coach someone for a boxing match and everything just kinda fell into place.”

As a blanket of silence fell over the table, you muttered out a small “I missed you…”. Seungcheol gives you a smile, reaching out his hands to hold yours as he brings them to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles – an action that causes you to blush. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

“I expect good food.”

And he replies with a sentence that has the butterflies you thought had died start fluttering again.

“Anything for you, pup.”

“...No…”

“Yes.”

“No… You’re lying…‘

“___, I swear on my life, I am not lying.”

“Ew, Cheol, that’s gross!” You whined, pushing at his shoulder with a disgusted expression, “I don’t need to hear about your sex life – much less a three way you had!”

Seungcheol laughs at your reaction, “Hey, if you think mine’s gross, you sure hear Mingyu’s. Who knew models were so… hormonal.”

“Lalala, I’m not listening!”

After your catch-up lunch at the cafe, you brought Seungcheol to the park near your apartment. The area enroute… was sketchy, to say the least, and that was putting it lightly. If you were to remove the sugarcoating, it looks as though you could get mugged or abducted if you lady luck was having a bad day and decided to take it out on you.

“No offence, pup –”

“Non taken.”

“But, at least three blocks of your housing area looks like they’re being used for drug operations. I know you can fight for yourself – I mean, I taught you how to defend yourself when we grew up together. But, have you ever thought about… y’know, moving to a safer area?” 

You had thought about moving out, but with the current rent prices being equivalent to a monthly mortgage payment, the dingy area is the best you got.

“I mean… It can’t be that bad, right…?”

“___, look at the place… I know you value your independence but, surely there are studios or apartments for rent that are safer and more… well lit, y’know?” Seungcheol notices how you began to pick at your nails, a habit he’s noticed when you both grew up and a sign that you were either anxious, nervous or both.

“Budget restraints?”

“Yeah… This is the best I got, Cheollie… Anywhere close to campus is expensive, and a decent apartment is… well… if I had a mortgage, I could pay that off, y’know…? I have a part-time job – I work as a barista at one of the cafes near campus. It pays decently, kind of higher than the usual amount part-timers get per hour but, let’s say I move out and rent an apartment near campus – I wouldn’t be left with much money after paying for rent and the utility bills…”

“Ever thought of getting roommates?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mr Choi, I am not a people’s person. Ask Hansol, it took me a year to actually open up to him, even after he’s been introducing me as his best friend for months.”

“Your parents should have property in Seoul, right? Why don’t you stay there instead?”

“Because I’m an only child, Seungcheol. My parents will pay the bills even if I was willing to fork up my own cash!”

Adding on the fact that you had no transport of your own, the dingy little apartment area really did seem like the best option for you – at least, for Seungcheol he was still… iffy (rightfully so, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you).

“Any public transport nearby?”

“There’s a bus stop that’s a 5 minute walk away from my place.”

“Okay…”

What you forgot to mention however, was the lack of reliable or functioning light source of said bus stop to your apartment’s lobby. But, surely, it wasn’t a detail worth mentioning to Seungcheol, you thought to yourself.

“Y’know, I thought your crush on Seungcheol would actually die down within those 5 years of no-contact.” Aki confessed as you typed on your laptop, phone propped up against one of your pen organisers. “I mean, it kind of did? But, instead of you being over over him, it’s more like… it’s more like your feelings weren't as obvious as back then.”

“Was it that obvious though?” you asked, turning your head to look at her as she shrugged her shoulders, “Not gonna lie, you’re pretty good at hiding it. I only noticed it after spending more time with you and noticing the subtle signs. If anyone was observant enough, they’d notice. But, to those that just look over the surface, not really.”

“...Do you think Cheol noticed…?”

“___, I might offend you and almost all the male species out there with this statement but, boys are dumb.” Aki moves her position from her desk to her bed, lying down on her stomach. “You both have been friends since you were kids so he should be picking up the signs. If he doesn’t then he’s either dumb or playing dumb.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you asked, “Do you think he knows I like him and he’s just playing me?”

“You and I both know Seungcheol isn’t like that,” Aki began, “Your well-being is a priority to him – you’re a priority to him. Maybe he’s never thought about it, y’know? You both grew up together, maybe the lines were blurred to him.”

“But… what if he is, and he’s just really good at hiding it?” you asked again, the anxiety and nervousness eating you up as you thought about Seungcheol taking advantage of your feelings.

“___, darling, you and I both know Seungcheol always puts his loved ones above him – he makes them a priority. And, he’s always put you first, even up to the point he dropped off the face of the earth!”

Aki could still see the uncertainty on your face, which by all means, you had every right to feel that way. After all, Seungcheol had gone no-contact for 5 years and a person can change a lot within those 5 years. Who’s to say he actually is just a bastard who would step on people’s heads just to get what he wants. “Why don’t you start spending more time with him? Like the good ol’ times!” Aki suggested.

“Rekindle the friendship, y’know? Sure, you both had a catch up session today, but you and I both know that isn’t enough. 5 years worth of catching up – and not to mention, I need to kick his ass.”

You let out a small laugh, “You’ll need to fly over to do that, Aki.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me, ___.” Aki playfully warns, narrowing her eyes at you and pointing a finger at the screen, “I have the money to do so, and I will.”

“God, Aki…”

"Hey, Seungcheol isn't the only one that would do anything for you and has the money to do so."

[0212] cheollie: hey, ik it's pretty late rn [0213] cheollie: but, i just wanted to text you this before i forget [0213] cheollie: thanks for agreeing to meet up with me today and hear me out about my whole disappearance and lost all contact [0213] cheollie: and i'm really, really, really glad that you still see me as that boy you grew up with all those years ago [0214] cheollie: and i really had a great time catching up with you today [0214] cheollie: and i'll always be here for you if you ever need me, ok?

Seungcheol stared at the text he's about to send out.

i'm always going to be right by your side no matter what

After silently debating with himself, he deleted the draft and set his phone on his nightstand, laying in his bed as he stared at the ceiling of his dark bedroom - contemplating as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @minhui896

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part ten

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

series masterlist |

Grief makes us do unspeakable things. It sharpens our claws, and protects us against things that may happen in the future. It forces us to be reserved, makes us shut up.

But sometimes grief makes us explode.

Makes us yearn for the love that hasn't been granted to us.

"You're not allowed to talk to him." the police guard scoffs.

Alicent weakens. Her first child tied in cuffs, never allowed to live life as a free man again. "I'm sorry," she mouthed - staring deep into Aegon's eyes. His lips pressed into a thin line, entirely unsure if the descent into madness was caused by his parents.

He cannot blame them, even if it was.

He walks away.

So you're leaving in the morning, on the early train.

The music in your airpods blasted. Harwin continued loading your luggage into the trunk. He doesn't know when he'll see you again.

I could say everything's alright. I could pretend and say goodbye.

"We'll keep in touch." you promised, wrapping him in a warm embrace. Daemon's hand found the small of your waist. "I'll call you everyday." Harwin made the same promise.

Basically his full-sister at this point.

"- I'll miss you." Harwin pressed a kiss on your forehead.

Daemon opens the car door for you. It was the beginning of your life. A life that you fought hard to have again.

I won't stop loving you.

I'll always be here by your side. I'll never want you to say goodbye.

Aemond smiled, hearing the radio play your favorite song. He wonders if you're better now - living the life that he took for so long. "So Mr. Aemond Targaryen, is it your first time in therapy?" the older woman adjusted her glasses.

"Yes." he answered with a smile.

(FIVE YEARS LATER)

yourname: ❤️ thank you for visiting us in 🇦🇺 thank you for the cute photos @helaenasphotography

liked by harwinstrong and 321 others

>comments

harwinstrong: My Heart 🥲🥺

helaenasphotography: always welcome guys! ✨

RhaenyraStrong: When are you coming home? Missing youuuu soo muchhhh - yourname: soon, i promise!!

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It's been five years since you disappeared off the face of the earth. You can still remember the day that you left. It was a Sunday.

May 7, 2023.

You moved to Switzerland with Daemon, enjoying the snow and the scenery around you. He started teaching in an international school. You postponed your law degree, instead you focused on running a daycare and healing from your scars.

You were lucky to welcome your first child.

Daenerys.

After Switzerland, you moved to Australia.

The warm sand was kissing your barefoot. The beach was beautiful in the morning, you liked the way the sun stung your skin. "Let's go for a swim," Daemon pleads, "I don't want to get stung by jellyfishes, love." you whined, but he continues pulling you in the water.

The water was warm, though slightly colder than the sand. A sigh escaped your mouth feeling the seaweed wrap around your feet. It was another day in paradise. "They won't bite, I promise." he pressed a kiss on your lips.

He was enjoying this life.

"It's not my problem if I get bitten anyways." you wrap your arms around his body, using him as a floater. He chuckles, remembering the time he had to haul you to the hospital because of a snake bite.

It was a garden snake, not the venomous kind.

"I'm sorry for that," he laughed, walking until the water reached your shoulders. The seaweed was ticking your thighs. "I'm glad that everything happened the way it did. I got justice for my mom's death. I got you. I got Daenerys." you whispered.

"I love you, Dae." you confessed.

"I love you too," he hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

harwinstrong posted to his story!

caption: daemon n daenerys. visited australia 🇦🇺! cheers mates

replies

RhaenyraStrong: Aww he looks so cute RhaenyraStrong: Please take more pictures!

Harwin smiled, helping you load the luggage inside of the car. "Two years and you're finally coming home." he states, placing his hand on your head and messing with your hair.

"I'm sorry that it took a while. We had a lot of things going on." you exchanged a knowing look with Daemon.

Harwin takes a closer look at the little boy. "Jesus, he looks exactly like you." he observed. "- don't let Daemon hear that." you placed a finger to your lips, continuing to rock the little boy to sleep.

"The car is ready." Daemon says, opening the door for you.

Harwin sits in the passenger seat, while you and Daenerys are in the backseat. "Is she strapped properly?" Daemon does his final rounds of safety inspection. "We're ready to go, dad." you confirmed.

yourname: thanks for the photos @helaenasphotography ❤️

liked by harwinstrong and 1,382 others

>comments

RhaenyraStrong: Congratulations are in order!!

jacejacejace: I'm so excited for the wedding 😍 ate that

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daemontargaryen: "If there is heaven in this life, it is my mother." ❤️

liked by harwinstrong and 96 others

>comments

RhaenyraStrong: Daenerys was so little then 🥲 they grow up too fast

joffreyminecraft_gamerboy: uncle daemon can u plese by me robux? - daemontargaryen: ok

LaenorVelaryonLaw: Keep posting pics of Dany and (Your Name) I'm tired of seeing your eyesore face on my newsfeed - daemontargaryen: You follow me, so?

"Dany, be careful. Vissy has soft bones." you dutifully reminded. In the span of five years the children in the family grew.

Rhaenyra and Harwin had Aegon, Viserys and Visenya.

"I don't know how you take care of these many kids. Daenerys just by herself is a handful." you chuckled, admiring the way Rhaenyra raised her children with tenderness and affection. "Harwin decided to have an early retirement, so we're with the kids 24/7." she humbled.

6 children. 1 teenager, and 1 adult child.

She's a legend.

"Has Jaehaerys and Jaehaera ever asked about their father?" you inquired, wondering if you should help shoulder the boulder of raising Aegon's kids. "I legally adopted them, as far as they're concerned Harwin and I are their parents." Rhaenyra confirmed.

Aegon was a strange creature. He always had that blank look in his eyes. He'd always joke about the most deranged topics, but when his children entered the room - his eyes would light up. He was a horrible person, but you think that he's a good father.

To some extent.

"Enough of that, I'm so excited for your wedding." Rhaenyra placed a hand on your forearm. Your eyes light up at the thought. "I already picked out a few bridesmaid dresses. I just need y'all to choose." you announced. "- I think they're in my room." you remembered.

Rhaenyra motioned for the maids to grab the gowns.

"Let's have a fashion show!" you smiled.

yourname: 08.23.24 🖤 Officially Mrs. Daemon Targaryen

liked by 1,239 others

helaenasphotography: Congratulations guys! I couldn't stop crying last night :(( ❤️

RhaenyraStrong: We did it baby!!!

harwinstrong: congrats sis and bro

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daemontargaryen: thank you for marrying me.

liked by 100 others

>comments

harwinstrong: Thanks for inviting us. We had fun.

helaenasphotography: Congrats guys!! 🥳 Cheers to forever

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: Hi can you do a request with gavi x reader where reader is shy and quiet, while gavi is the complete opposite and reader doesn’t think that gavi likes her, but what she doesn’t know is that he’s actually inlove with her and his teammates tease about his obsession with her :) pls (@letssee2468)

Word Count: 611 words

(author's note: the last gavi fic i posted got alot of love so thank you to everyone who read and interacted with it 🥹 i hope this one follows in its footsteps and everyone likes it as much !!)

Y/N was a reserved girl. She was very quiet and didn’t tend to go out of her way to interact with others. Pablo on the other hand, was as confident as can be. He spoke to anyone and everyone and would talk the ear off even the loudest person alive.

Setting her camera up at the edge of the training pitch, Y/N took a deep breath. She loved her job, however there was one slight problem. Throughout the years she had spent as Barcelona’s sports photographer, she had developed a crush on Pablo Gavi. A crush which made it impossible for her to look in his direction without her face flushing pink.

Her thoughts were filled by him while she set about adjusting her tripod. Pablo and the rest of the team had begun to emerge from the changing rooms.

“Hermano, I'm telling you, just make a move!” Pedri groaned as he walked alongside his friend.

“It’s not that easy, Pedri. What if she thinks I’m a complete moron?” Gavi whined.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Pablo had developed a liking for her too. His normal and charismatic manner disappeared anytime he conversed with her. He thought she was gorgeous. He couldn’t help but stare while she moved around, perfecting her camera setup. He also couldn’t stop himself jogging over to where she stood.

“Would you like any help?” 

“Oh- hello Pablo! I should be okay, thank you for the offer though”, she managed to stutter out.

He gave her a small smile before jogging back to the rest of the boys. He had a frown on his face. What was he doing wrong? 

Y/N sighed to herself. There was no point in her entertaining Gavi’s requests, he would never like her would he?

As soon as training was over, Y/N began packing her equipment away. Pablo decided now would be the time to talk to Y/N.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you please?”

“Sure Pablo, what’s the matter?”

He fidgeted with his hands as he uttered, “Have I done something to offend you? It’s just you seem to avoid me all the time?”

“What no, of course not Pablo”, Y/N took a deep breath before continuing, “The truth is, I really like you. Like a lot. But I always thought you hated me. Not the other way around.”

“Why on earth would I hate you?” Pablo questioned, looking puzzled. Y/N had thoroughly confused him. How could he hate her?

"Well you're so outgoing and confident, I just thought you wouldn't want someone like me."

“Someone like you? I don’t understand what you mean hermosa?”

“I mean I’m too shy, you deserve someone better.”

Y/N turned around, picked up her equipment and began to walk away. Thinking quickly, Pablo grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. He stepped forward and planted a kiss on her lips. He poured his heart into the action, hoping the girl in front of him would understand how much he truly wanted her.

After a while, he pulled away. He stared at her intently, admiring the dazed look on her face.

“Pablo, I-”

“I want you. If I haven’t made it obvious.”

She let out a laugh, her mind still racing from what just happened. The pair heard cheering and turned around to see the whole Barcelona team watching them with smiles on their faces.

"I'm so proud of you hermano! I've been telling you to do that for months!"

Gavi laughed, knowing he had finally told Y/N how he felt. A weight had been lifted off of both of their shoulders and they could finally be happy. Together.

[sketchspook]

The Father of Hell

Watched Hazbin and Helluva the other day. No expectations really, never paid much mind to it until watching, but I'm head over heels for the Lucifer there; love the little guy. Did a "redesign" for fun; feel waaaay fonder of the OG, however.

Apologies to this tumblr account. Been having a rough time with job bouncing and instability, but I'm trying as best as I can since I don't want to just leave this account all dried up like I have. I'm going into a far better place, so I plan on just going apeshit with it once I can utilize my time. I want more Michael myers, more tf2, more dbd, just the absolute works. I want to draw Gummigoo from the digital circus, even. I want to commit to all sorts of things; the passion is there, our time together just... isn't there yet, yet.

This particular Lucifer Morningstar of mine, though he's rushed, I still have attachments to and he's got his own lil tidbits. Listing them below for my sake (VERY long, he's my boy and I wish I could dedicate more to him other than a one time post):

As tall as an redwood tree: the floor of the seven rings used to be stairs for him before he expanded and relinquished them to the other sins.

He played a huge part in giving the other sins their forms - mutilating himself in the process to ensure they had a foundation to build on. Legs to Asmodeus. A piece of his chest, down to his core, for Beelzebub. The original eyes on his face to Mammon; he's got enough to spare. (All I got atm)

His wings got fried like chicken on his way down and instead adopted heavy drapes to compensate for the weight of his wings being largely gone; part of him now, but he's able to take it off... roughly the weight of the moon.

Can't speak, no mouth! It's all telepathy; Charlie is the only one that he can converse with at length without fear of giving hallucinations for days to (at it's worst, schizophrenia indefinitely). Not actual words, just images of things and emotions not designed for things other than angels. It's lonely being at the top.

Even though his legs have been replaced by a tree-like entity of himself (crafted from the remaining ashes of his wings), he can teleport wherever he likes, but the ground is a little weird after, aside from the pride ring.

He can shrink, but never pass 20ft; goes blind after.

His hair tastes like apple dumplings and will keep you fed for a century! (Charlie's only snack once every 100 years)

In his presence, one feels watched from every angle and you are! Thoughts and emotions aren't safe from him. He already has dozens of replies, via symbols and mental images, at the ready for however you choose to voice yourself to him.

Be not afraid: though he can't converse with hellborn or sinners at length, he's a gentle giant. You're an imp from the wrath ring that wants to know what stars are? He has a vast amount of knowledge and know-how (He helped create the universe!) and he'll offer you a memory so far from earth, humans will never see it. If only he could get out more without destroying your farmland wherever he teleports (it won't grow back). Also a pushover. A rug you have people wipe their feet before entering. He was rebellious, outspoken once; never again.

The snake around his waist is the key to his... most "extreme" form. Face of a "Leo." They don't call him the "dreamer" for nothing - if you know, you know.

His violin and bow, the Morning and evening star. Lucifer and Noctifer. No strings, but upon playing, is a melody that Heaven can't replicate. He can spontaneously create without, but upon forgetting about it or it just leaving his mind for other things, it disappears; his violin is what gives substance for his dreams to continue existing without him. He hasn't played it since expanding the seven rings.

His fingers, how do I describe this, can grip both ways: put a palm on the back of his hand? His fingers can hold yours as though you were touching his palm.

His "ducks" are rats and gerbils (just cause one of the stray flames I drew of his hair looked like one and I didn't have the heart to get rid of it)

[ikamigami]

THE CYCLE OF TRAUMA

In this post I'll try to explain how Sun is trapped in a cycle of trauma and I'll try to answer the question whether he can escape it or not and how he can escape it if it's possible.

I think that I know the answer to why Sun is often pushed aside and doesn't even feel like MC in Sun and Moon Show sometimes.. it's because the show is telling two stories.

One story is the one that we see. The one which follows mostly what happens with Moon because Moon does more things than Sun. Sun is doing his own things in the background. Or he's a gag character in most of funny lore episodes. This story is the surface level of watching it and seeing the obvious parallels between events.

It's not a bad way to engage with the show but it's more like watching MCU - easy story to follow with foreshadowing, payoffs and parallels.

But there's also a second story.. a story hidden in details and subtle hints and lines which are echoes of the past events.. and the main character of this story is Sun who is a traumatised victim of abuse.

This is more deep reading of events in the show - we could say it's meta interpretation of it.

I'm not going to lie to you that I found it weird and a bit repulsive how awfully Sun is treated as a victim of abuse.. because his trauma was never addressed properly - Sun could never talk openly about what happened to him and no one even helped him with that.. sometimes they didn't even want to listen to him..

I didn't want to accept that Sun healed off-screen or just even got better off-screen because of how much he went through and things like that just don't magically disappear.. all this trauma couldn't just disappear.. especially if Sun never had a break. His life is traumatising event after traumatising event after traumatising event..

"Stop! How can you say that Sun didn't have a break when he literally did while Solar and Moon took care of everything?" you're probably asking this right now. And my answer is: yes, you're right, Sun literally had a break. Literally - a surface level of watching show.. a story that we see..? You probably don't know what I'm trying to say. But this is exactly why I'm making this post.

Today's episode helped me realize that what's happening right now is just another face of Sun's trauma.

Moon is not only acting similarly to Old Moon but he even tried to guilt-trip Sun and he minimized his trauma by mocking it which was the exact same thing Old Moon was doing during their fights.

Moon even said that only after two years Sun was able to grow a spine to stand up to Moon.. doesn't it sound familiar?

Old Moon said during one of their fights that Sun shouldn't apologize for yelling at him because he shouldn't apologize for having a spine.. hmm.. it's obvious parallel yet it's a reverse one.

Old Moon was trying to make Sun stand up for himself in abusive way.

Now Moon is trying to squash Sun's confidence by laughing at Sun's efforts of trying to stand up for himself which essentially mocks Sun's trauma.

And later when I was watching mgafs episode it dawned on me. Sun went to Monty for help when Moon is dangerous.. doesn't it sound familiar?

The last time Sun went to Monty for help was when kill code reactivated in Old Moon.. but before that Sun went to Monty for help when Lunar was pretending to be Old Moon and they couldn't switch places.

But who told Sun to go to Monty for help if situation with Moon would be too much to handle for Sun? Old Moon.

It seems that Old Moon's words still have an impact on Sun.

But there's more.. Sun locked Moon in a cell just like Old Moon did to him a year ago. Sun decided to use shocks to keep Moon from doing something stupid and harming himself.

It really seems that Sun was influenced by Old Moon's actions.

But also the only helpful thing that Sun knows is talking to Earth because Earth was the one who helped him back then.. so if Earth's words didn't help Moon what else can?

Old Moon never listened to Sun and now Moon also doesn't listen to him. So what left?

He went to Monty for help but it turned out that Monty can't help. Monty's words don't work anymore with Moon like they used to with Old Moon. Monty and Foxy's only solution is to forcefully snap Moon out of it by endangering Sun at expense of Bloodmoon's life cause who cares about Bloodmoon..

So the only answer is violence. But if you think about it Sun's life is filled with violence to the brim. Old Moon used to solve their every problem with violence. New Moon also tried to solve their every problem by killing whoever he deemed an enemy.

Sun tried to talk with Eclipse but it didn't work. The only thing that left was to expell him from his head which was a death of OG Eclipse.

He tried to warn Bloodmoon. It didn't work and he killed them in self-defence.

He tried to listen to V2 Eclipse (Eclipse with the star) but Eclipse could only threaten them and told them to kill Lunar. So the only thing that left was to push Eclipse through the portal and Moon killed him.

He tried to talk to New Bloodmoon but it didn't work either and the only thing that left once again was violence.

He convinced Moon to help Ruin which turned out to be Solar's and trillions of others' lives doom. So what left? They had to lock Ruin but it created more problems - Molten trying to kill him and now Ruin is once again working with Bloodmoon and we can only imagine that they're up to no good. So they'd most definitely have to use violence.

Sun tried to resolve things differently. He tried to help. But none of this worked. His help only made things worse. And everyone's answer seem to be only violence.. violence violence violence violence violence violence violence..

So it's not surprising at all that Sun is doing what Old Moon taught him. Even if it isn't what Sun wants. And the worse thing is that now others are trying to force him to make a decision that will have an impact on everything. It'll either work and things will get better or it won't and everything will get worse.

You may say that Sun has Earth and Lunar as a support. But while it is true that he still has them they already expressed that they don't want to help. And let's be honest, neither Earth nor Lunar did much to help Sun with his trauma. They aknowledged it but that's it. Lunar never talked about it with Sun. And the only thing Earth did was apologizing to Sun for making him sad by mentioning Old Moon's death because she knows how hard it is for him.

But it isn't what Sun needs. He needs help. You may say "why he doesn't talk to them about his trauma?" The thing is he tried. But when he needed help the most - after Old Moon's death - they told him to move on or Moon straight up yelled at him for just simply mentioning Old Moon.

So it's not surprising that Sun doesn't try to open up about it anymore. Because he learned that it's better not to do that. And that's why he thinks that his issues are less important than others' problems. Because no one cared to help him. But because Sun knows that they love him so there's only one reason why they didn't help him. And this reason is that his issues aren't that much of a big deal. Why should he bother others with his issues when others don't seem to care that much? They probably don't care that much because these issues aren't real problems.. I bet that this is what Sun thinks about that.

Let's get back to the main topic of this post. Sun is trapped in a cycle of trauma. From the beginning of his existence the only thing he knows is trauma. First with Old Moon who abused him physically, mentally and emotionally. Later Old Moon promised to change yet he left Eclipse in Sun's head which created another trauma for Sun and Old Moon didn't stop being abusive. Later when they thought that they defeated Eclipse another problem appeared - Bloodmoon. But it wasn't enough because it turned out that there's new Eclipse who activated Old Moon's kill code reopening Sun's trauma.

Eventually Sun's already poor mental state worsened even more and he experienced psychotic episode. And what others did at that time? They abandoned Sun and because he was too detached from reality he wasn't able to stop himself. And in such state he did things that he regrets. But even if he regrets them he can't do anything about it. He has to live with consequences of his actions even if he wasn't at fault for neither Old Moon's nor Lunar's death. But it only deepened his trauma.

At that point Sun thought that the only solution is to die hoping for fresh start like Moon had. Hence why he decided to be conduit for star's power and tried to sacrifice himself. Thankfully he survived and Eclipse was gone. Things seemed to get better. Unfortunately Sun's family didn't help him with his trauma at that time. Even if it was the best time to adress his issues considering that he was still suicidal back then.

Though Ruin already was a threat. After all he kidnapped Sun and the way Moon dealt with it wasn't the best - reminding Sun of his trauma once again. Yet back then Ruin's threat seemed so distant. Until he decided to bring Bloodmoon back. And also Solar's appearing disrupted dynamics in the family regardless of this being unintentional. Then Ruin blew up the Daycare and Sun and Moon were sent to Ruin's dimension.

And even if later things seemed to get better once again it wasn't long before Bloodmoon completely mauled Earth's body and they had to deal with them and also Stitchwraith threatened that if they'll try to interfere he will do worse things then simply kidnapping Earth.

At that time Sun seemed very distanced from everyone. He had serious memory issues and he wasn't answering any messages and calls. It didn't seem good.

And then Eclipse returned once again. And we all of a sudden found out that Sun was feeling great until Eclipse's return.. it doesn't add up.

And later Sun decided to leave everything to Moon and Solar to deal with while he was spending time alone in their house, drinking wine and relaxing with his cats.. and he seemingly got better. He just needed a break.

It doesn't make much sense when you consider everything Sun went through. Yes, on surface level Sun seems to be doing much better and break helped him.. but is it actually true?

If we look at it deeper through lense of a story of very traumatised victim of abuse.. it seems that this was Sun's another attempt at breaking the cycle of trauma. The first attempt was sacrificing himself. Second was to try and avoid getting engaged with anything. After all when he tried to help everything got worse. So he naturally tried to do the opposite.. which turned out even worse.

Solar died because of Ruin's plan and he wouldn't be able to do it if it wasn't for Sun convincing Moon to help him. Moon is now losing his mind because of Solar's death and like Sun said he wishes that he said more to Moon when he had mental breakdown. And now Moon is acting worse than Old Moon and Sun is basically reliving his trauma. Sun is trying his best to keep his family together but is he actually able to do that?

You may think that he is.. but when you consider Sun's mental state - depressive psychosis and delusions centered around guilt and unworthiness making Sun feel like he's the one who is bad.. it doesn't seem likely.

You can disagree with me but there's plenty of evidence that support my claim. Also Moon told Sun that he has a little bit of Eclipse in him still.. and not so long ago Eclipse told Sun that he would make a good Eclipse when this is exactly what Sun was afraid of a year ago. And Lunar back then told him that he's acting exactly like Eclipse.

I'm pretty sure that it's affecting Sun. As much as he tries to say otherwise. That Moon's words doesn't have any impact on him anymore. It's not true. After all, we can still see how much Old Moon's words affected him.

Having all of this in mind, I wouldn't be surprised if Sun ended up blaming himself for what happened. Also considering that things will get worse soon. After all, Taurus is after Lunar and he'll either execute them immediately or put them to test.. which probably won't be anything nice. And Earth is hiding that she's friends with Eclipse and she trusts him more than her family because she tells Eclipse things that she wouldn't say to them. And who knows what Ruin and BM will do. And lastly.. Sun will find out soon that Dazzle is victim of July 16th incident. It doesn't look too good for him.

Even if Sun keeps going for his family. Will he be able to take more of this?

I don't think so. Because why then showrunners didn't let things to get better even if a bit? Why everything seems to get worse?

But is there a way for Sun to escape the cycle of trauma? He tried to sacrifice himself which even if it'd ended with him being dead he still would do something good, right? He'd protect his family. He tried to distance himself from everything to not make things worse with his help. But it ended up making everything even worse. So is there any option left for Sun to break the cycle?

Yes, the help of others. Unfortunately it doesn't seem likely. Even now when Sun is clearly suffering he still chose not to talk about his own feelings but focused on Moon. Even when he's hurting so much that Monty and Foxy found Sun crouching outside Monty's house. Yet he didn't say anything. And what they did to help him? They told him that he needs to make a decision that he isn't capable to make in the state he is right now.

But what about Earth and Lunar? Like I said Lunar will have a much more concerning problem soon enough. And when Sun will find out about Earth's secret.. I doubt he'll trust her to talk about his own issues. You may say that he can change his mind about Eclipse. Maybe normally he could but not now. Not when he's reliving his trauma and his mental state is threatening to worsen. Sun isn't in any condition to deal with his own issues with Eclipse unless Eclipse will surprisingly not insult Sun and will be able to convince him that he wants to help. But Sun isn't in the right state of mind to deal with it, to rethink everything between the two of them and try to forget about trauma Eclipse caused him and his family.

And when Sun will learn the truth about Dazzle.. I wouldn't be surprised if it'll be a final straw for him.

So what else left? How can break the cycle? The answer is he can't. He could with a help of his family but it really seems not to be an option.

Though there's one thing that will stop the cycle of trauma once and for all. And it's death. You may say that Sun already tried to do that. Yes but also no. Back then Sun thought that he'll be lucky if he get reset and if not he'll at least sacrifice himself to protect his family.

But what about now? There's a plan to put Sun in dangerous situation that will cause Sun harm in order to snap Moon out of the state he's in. But if it won't work Moon will kill Bloodmoon and then I doubt that he'll stop at that. And then what?

This plan is messed up because no one can be sure if it'll work and there are very high chances that Moon's mental state will worsen either way. I bet that Sun will try to help no matter what.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Foxy wanted Sun to decide when he'll say enough is enough and he let them kill Moon which isn't an option for Sun - imagine keep going with this in mind that the life of your brother depends on your decision.

But when things will get worse will he be able to keep going? After all he wasn't able to help anyone, to stop anyone, to comfort anyone.. he tried everything yet things only got worse. And because of Sun's mental issues I'm pretty sure that he'll blame himself for everything. So even if Sun will still have Earth and Lunar (maybe).. can he be sure that his decisions won't end up harming the rest of his family?

I wouldn't be surprised if Sun will consider taking his own life as an answer to how stop this madness. If he thinks that all of this is his fault and he even expressed that himself that he was wondering if it'd be better if Moon and him never separated.. and even if Sun went to dimension where they separated but Eclipse never happened and they seem to have happy lives. That Moon didn't help Sun that much and even if he said that deep down Moon still cares.. now Sun learned that it isn't true. Sun can't handle this anymore.

Sun's mental state seems to be not good but considering what is about to happen it'll only get worse. I doubt that Sun will be able to think it through and stop himself from doing it while everything around him is collapsing and he thinks that it's all because of him..

I won't say that he'll succeed because there's high chance that someone will stop him or even if he'll attempt it he may end up heavily injured or in a coma and not dead dead.

But seeing how showrunners keep making things harder and worse for Sun and knowing that Davis wanted to include topic of suicide but previously received backlash for that though it seems that the issue either got resolved or they decided to implement it anyway it seems highly likely that Sun may try to kill himself.

I'm not saying that he'll do that but this is just my hypothesis based on the analysis of events in the show and meta analysis of Sun's character and that his character represents a story of traumatised victim of abuse. I'd rather have them addressing it even if it'd mean that Sun will attempt suicide then them completely ignoring it showing viewers that "screw victims of abuse".

We may argue about whether VAs are doing good job with portraying this things in the show but I don't want to immediately say that there's no hope and that they just don't care about the fact that they made Sun to be a victim of abuse.

I'm trying to be positive about this and I hope that Sun's trauma eventually will be addressed. I'm trying to trust the process. Maybe I'm a fool for doing so but whatever. I don't care about it.

[blanketorghost]

A Taste of Something New (Pt. 2)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Hiiiieee.... finally I have written part 2 of this <3

I only got the motivation after i took the wrong bus back home and had to go thru a 2 hour bus trip teehee

Summary: Against his better judgement, Yuu wants to bring Azul a meaningful souvenir from the scalding sands.

Pairing: Yuu Fujisaki x Azul Ashengrotto (one-sided), Azul Ashengrotto x Jamil Viper (implied, one-sided)

Timeline: During/Post Al'ab Narya and Ch. 4. Pre Ch. 5

Notes: Azul may be OOC? Have never been good at writing him convincingly imho

----

"Hmngh... hmph... mrrngh... Henchman! What's the hold up!!"

Grim calls out as he stuffs himself with another samosa, the tiny treat almost looking like a regular loaf of bread in the cat's hands. Yet, it disappears just as quickly as all the other meals and snacks he's been served. And as if that weren't enough, he had yet to be satisfied.

"I'm so sorry about all this..." Yuu mutters at one of the cooks as he hands Grim another tray of freshly baked naan bread and a bowl of baba ghannouj, knowing they'd be gone in seconds despite the agonizing hours it'd taken the Asim's staff to make the everything. Yet, the servant merely shakes his head and laughs.

"Nonesense. Seeing someone eat our food with such gusto is one of the biggest compliments a chef can get, and this isn't anything compared to what we have to prepare for our master's feasts. Please eat freely."

Yuu nods and sits down, a slight blush still dusting his cheeks. He gently takes a piece of naan as splits it, giving the other half to Grim, then dips the soft bread on the sauce, trying to get a healthy portion without spilling all over the expensive clothes.

"Hey, Yuu! Can you taste the pomegranate? I'm sure they added some juice to it!" Without waiting for Yuu to even take a bite and savor the flavor for himself, Grim shoves a pawful of baba ghannouj to his mouth, naan and all.

Goodness, cleaning Grim's fur after this will be hell on earth.

Yuu, with a few coughs, struggles to accept the food without choking. He tries to savor anything other than cat hair and the odd combination of flavors carried with them, all mixed with the baba ghannouj itself. His face turns red, and finally giving up, he chugs some lemonade from the copper cup right beside him. "Grim...! I have hands, I can feed myself." Yuu chides, still coughing a little and covering his mouth.

"But did you taste 'em?!"

"Well..." Yuu trails off, and before Grim can either throw a tantrum or shove another pawful of food into his mouth, another servant comes to the rescue. "Why not try it by itself, then? That way, you can savor the baba ghannouj with and without the naan to compare." She hands both Grim and Yuu a small spoon, and Yuu can't help but mouth off a silent 'thank you' for this small mercy he was given.

"I'm glad you decided to join me in the kitchen." Trey says as he scribbles something on his own notepad, nibbling on a cookie he now knew was called. Ma'amoul— one of Kalim's sibling's favorites. "What changed your mind?"

"Oh, you know..." Yuu shrugs "since Grim made this 'Gourmet club' up, and technically, that makes me its founder too, I'd thought it'd be nice if I contributed to it by gathering up recipes" Yuu says, nonchalantly taking a spoonful of the baba ghannouj. The taste is definitely odd... in a good way. But definitely unlike anything he'd ever had before in either Earth or Twisted Wonderland. He wondered if it would be the same for Azul.

"Why not buy a recipe book, then?"

"Do I look like the kind of person with the money to splurge on books?"

"Weelll...." Trey gives him a smirk— one Yuu had become all too familiar with in the past few months— and eyes him up and down. Of course, if anyone saw Yuu with the robes he had on now, they definitely would've thought he had the same wealth these clothes represented.

At Trey's response, Yuu gives him an unamused, sarcastic laugh and nudges him with his feet. "Hey. If I was slightly more cunning, desperate, or ungrateful, I definitely would've auctioned this off to the best bidder. But have you seen Kalim get sad?"

Trey shakes his head.

"It's heartbreaking. Believe me. And I don't wanna make him sad by selling off his gifts."

"Really? I don't think he'd mind if he knew what it was for."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Buying your crush a fancy recipe book, obviously."

"Shut up." Yuu toes his friend as Trey snickers, averting his eyes to the chai he was drinking with the cookies. "I don't even know what books he has. I could accidentally buy a duplicate. Besides, the Gourmet club..."

"Uh huh. That's totally the reason why you're here."

"If you keep at it, I'll tell Riddle of all of the Queen's Rules you've broken since we've got here."

"He won't mind. I've got boyfriend privileges."

"Oh, boo." Yuu huffs loudly and looks back down at the table, finally allowing himself to have another spoonful of the baba ghannouj. He takes his time savoring the creamy paste, "Hmn. This is great, actually." Yuu tries to take another bite, but before he even gets it, he notices that the bowl has already been scraped clean. ".... Grim?!" Yuu chastizes his pet/friend/child. "You couldn't even save me a little?"

"I saved you a spoonful!" The cat wiggles his own empty spoon around. "That's already quite generous, if I do say so myself."

"I couldn't even have it with the naan."

"Yeah you did! I gave you some!"

"No, you shoved some into my mouth. That's different."

"Meh. Same difference." Grim shrugs and moves onto the next plate of food, picking up a fork to spear up a kind of meatball. " 'Sides, I've been writing all the things I can taste down like you told me, look!" He waves over a stained piece of paper with barely anything legible in it. "See, Yuu? I'm being super nice right now!"

"Yeah. Super nice." Yuu grumbles as he turns around to look at Trey's notes, hoping he'd take pity on him and share his own findings on Scalding Sands cuisine. "Watcha got there?" He peeks at Trey's notebook, feigning innocent curiosity.

"Some dessert recipes. I don't think your loverboy may like them, though. They're very high on calories." Trey hums as he scribbles something out, then quickly crosses it out and replaces it with another note. "You may be luckier with salad and soup recipes."

"Yeah, I know." Yuu sighs and places a hand on his cheek. "But I want the recipe book to be really complete. If it's going to work as a Mostro Lounge menu reference, you know."

"Uh huh. You're such an attentive employee." Trey cracks another joke, but instead of snapping back, Yuu only deflates further, sighing once more.

"I just.... I like him a lot." He mumbles, a red tint slowly rising to his cheeks and ears. "I really want him to like it."

"I know." Trey reciprocates the sigh with another and looks back at his friend, an unsure expression on his face. Finally, after thinking it over, he gives Yuu a reassuring pat on the back. "Fine. I'll help you out with the desserts. But you'll have to ask the cooks directly for the more savory recipes."

Grim, which was just a mere seconds ago devouring a helping of H'riss, perks up at Trey's mention. "There's no need for that, henchman! I've written all the ingredients I could taste like you asked me, look!!"

Grim holds out a stained notepad proudly, all of which is filled with more chicken-scratch writing and doodles. Trey leans over and squints, taking off his glasses and putting them on again.

He turns to Yuu and raises and eyebrow, an expression which Yuu quickly shrugs off.

"Good job, Grimmy." Yuu ruffles his friend's head and smiles, taking the notepad. "Your handwriting has also gotten better."

Grim smiles proudly. "Of course! The great Grim-sama has the best handwritting in all of NRC!"

"Of course." Yuu chuckles, Trey also stifling a snicker in the background.

~

Gathering recipes from the staff was surprisingly easy once Yuu's intentions were made public. It seemed that people's secrecy over treasured family recipes was forgotten as soon as the subject of love and wooing one's crush with food was brought up.

So much so, Yuu was able to fill up the entire test notebook in just that afternoon, now all he needed to do was pass on the clean writing to the one he was going to give Azul, and his gift would be complete.

At the suggestion of one of the cooks, Yuu also gathered sample-sized packets of Silk City exclusive spices and herbs, all paired up with a recipe for each. They were even kind enough to give some more expensive items like saffron for free, something he never would've been able to get with his meager budget.

"How are you feeling, Grim?" Yuu asks as he looks at his companion, all sprawled out in their guest bed after the firelit festival's celebrations.

Yuu had decided to skip over the majority of the banquet in favour of staying in his room crafting up the book, meticulously writing down each recipe by hand with as clean and clear handwriting as he could. Finally putting his childhood calligraphy classes to the test, Yuu's strokes are careful and deliberate, and he doesn't spare any details when it comes to the ornamentation of the titles of each recipe.

The ghost camera had also come in handy, each page having its own picture. Small ripples of steam could be seen wafting off some dishes, while with others, one could even smell the aroma of the items. It was, Yuu thought, something that made this recipe book stand out from the other ones he could've bought.

Surely, Azul would like this one... he hoped.

Grim, on the other hand, had spent the whole night partying with the others, and while Yuu felt a little bad by entrusting his pet-beast to Tsunotarō, he was sure it wouldn't be that much of a problem either way, given they already got along swimmingly. His friend arrived late into the night and practically flopped belly up onto the bed, making some dawn feathers fly out of the pillows.

"Mrrgh... so.... full...." Grim mumbles, his tummy completely stuffed in what Yuu could only guess would be double his body weight in food.

"Did you have fun?" Yuu asks, briefly lifting up his gaze from his writing to look at his friend, then switching his pen from one hand to the other once it got too tired.

"Yeah!!" Yuu raises a hand up. "There were... mgh... so many fireworks after the main show, and sparklers too! ... Kalim also showed us.... his monkeys n stuff." Grim says, his voice wavering from excited to dead tired with each word."

"I'm glad you did. You didn't cause any trouble in there, did you?" Yuu hums, smiling idly as he takes one of the spice packets and sticks it with some double-sided tape to the corresponding page.

"Of course not! I was... a good boy." Grim sleepily protests, then lifts his head up. "Henchman... why does the room smell so tasty? You're not hiding any snacks from me, are you??"

"Must be the spices." Yuu chuckles a bit, then unwraps a paper packet. "But I did save you some keema naan that the staff brought me for dinner."

"Yummy!" Grim, despite his apparent tiredness a few seconds ago, springs out from the bed and walks over to Yuu, sitting by his side and taking the bread in his paws. "Y'know, henchman. You should eat well too. Take this!" He says, ripping half of the naan, but Yuu shakes his head.

"It's fine. I already ate." Yuu smiles without taking his eyes off the notebook. "Besides, I could get the pages greasy."

"Hmph." Grim only shoots Yuu a look at his answer, and with a little hesitation, he eats the ripped up half along the rest.

They stay there for a few minutes, Grim chewing on his food happily while Yuu continues writing, juggling the pen between his two hands with a soft smile on his face. With a small groan, he stops only to stretch out his wrists and fingers, spinning them in slow, clockwise circles.

"... Hey, Grim?" Yuu asks as he rubs his right hand, squeezing every now and then. His voice is soft and low as he speaks, a little flustered, even. "... Do you think... Azul will like this?"

He looks down at the remaining pages, looking at the detailed instructions and intricate writing, a soft blush dusting his cheeks.

Grim stays silent for a second, mulling over his thoughts as he stares at Yuu, then clicks his tongue.

"He'd be real dumb if he didn't."

[bigball-thefrog]

The Mighty Sand Dragon And The Maiden: Crocodile X Reader pt2

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Pt1

Just a short one for this week I'll post a longer one next week and the third part of this will be longer.

Warnings and Tags:

None

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Reader POV

It had been six months since I last spoke to the dragon and I finally think I'm ready to defeat him. Once again I made my journey through the desert fighting more monsters and more puzzles which seemed easier this time thanks to my training.

I eventually get the cave and set down my things and called out to the dragon and waited with a smug look. There was silence until the dragon let out a deep growl that caused the ground to shake, soon the large purple dragon emerged from his cave bringing more sand, "Who dares awaken the might Sand Drago-... Oh it's you again. The little maiden that wishes to change her fate and defeat me?~ I thought after the last fight you would have run home crying and given into your fate~" The dragon said tauntingly as he let out his deep laugh. "No, I would never accept that fate! I make my own decisions and iecide my own destiny!" The dragon chuckled again, "Well then fair maiden don't expect me to be easy on you this time.~" The dragon was surrounded by sand again, signaling he was transforming into his human form. When the sand disappeared and he, now in his human form walked towards me with a large grin on his face, "Well then maiden, show me what you've got~" he said tauntingly

I sighed as I raised my sword, ready to attack I ran at him and he raised his hand to keep me away again, this time I ducked and slashed my sword, cutting off his hand. I finally got close to him and smirked, finally one swift move and my fate will change and I'll no longer be the helpless maiden everyone says I'll be. I raised my sword and stabbed it right through his stomach, "Looks like the might Sand Dragon isn't so mighty now-... HUH!!??" I looked where I stabbed and there was no blood just.... Sand? He laughed at me as he grabbed the sword and pulled it out, still no blood and just sand. The wound quickly closed and the sand disappeared, "How? How on earth is that possible!" I yelled in frustration, the dragon chuckled again as he lit up a cigar, "Did you really think that I was called the Sand Dragon because I lived in a dessert? You silly girl, I am the Sand Dragon because I am the sand that makes up the dessert, all this land is an extension of me." I quickly became frustrated at his words and grabbed my sword again and just started swinging it around while mumbling my frustrations.

Crocodile POV

I watched as the maiden swung around her sword in the air frustrated, it was entertaining to watch. I let out one last puff of smoke before walking over to the maiden, I was about to speak when the maiden saw me and just yelled and started slashing me with their sword, I let them since it doesn't effect me anyway and let them take their frustration out, after a few minutes it became annoying so I grabbed them by the face and lifted them up to my eye level, " Listen, maiden I am going to give you one last chance to go train and learn how to defeat me, if you do not defeat me the next time we meet I will change your destiny by killing you before you can get rescued, got it?" I said as I squeezed their cheeks, they barely managed to nod their head yes and I felt myself relax a little. I took a deep inhale from the cigar between my lips and looked at the maiden, if it wasn't for them being so stubborn on trying to kill me, I might have found them cute. I blew a cloud of smoke in their face before dropping them. They quickly got up and grabbed their things, leaving in silence with their head low this time. I let out a sigh of frustration and went back inside my cave.

This maiden is something, frustrating? Yes. Attractive? Maybe... But I'll see if the maiden does come back again and will defeat me next time. Maybe I won't kill her next time, maybe I'll just keep her in my collection.......

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Sorry for the short one this week couldn't think of much to add for this chapter but the next chapter will be longer.

Kelly🐸

[sparring-spirals]

I need to yell about fcg and *specifically* this great post that you wrote ( https://www.tumblr.com/sparring-spirals/747570433506902016/okay-after-some-sleep-back-on-my-bullshit-lets ) because it made me realize that I really, truly hope Laura will remember she took off her circlet moments before the bang and Imogen had the chance to hear that fcg was at peace with this decision, not because they were trying to be a martyr, but because they had a true chance to save their friends, knowing full well that detonating *would* be a sacrifice because their life *did* matter.

(I hope sending asks is okay, sorry to barge in like this)

Ahw, hell yeah, glad the post hit hard, recontextualizing it in my head helped a lot with chewing through my feelings about. All of this. I'm always okay with asks!! As long as folks are aware I am not necessarily going to agree with every ask that comes in, and more critically, sometimes I disappear off the face of the Earth for a while, dont answer asks, and then feel too embarassed about answering them so much later/get asks about something I didnt watch, go "ah ill answer when i watch it" and then. Well.

(To the various people who sent the total 12 asks that have been sitting in my box for over a year now. I am. So sorry.)

Honestly, I didnt even think about the possibility that Imogen might have heard it, goddamn. Fascinating. I was fully bracing myself for Bell's Hells just- never knowing, and them having to grapple with it. Which. Takes me out at the knees, tbh. I hesitate to speculate on it too much when the episode is going to come out Thursday and probably prove me wrong, but. God, there's no world where the Bell's Hells would instinctively know that F.C.G had made the call with that attitude, and fuck, that puts all of it into a different light, clearly.

I'm a little apprehensive and tbh deeply curious to see how the Bell's Hells take this- the depth of the loss, the sudden nature of it, the victory against Otohan probably not even feeling that way. Maybe wanting to honor F.C.G's sacrifice but. Probably. And understandably. Angry at them for making that call, but he's not. Even there for them to be angry at. So what then? So what then? They can have all these feelings and have all these questions about why he did it, about what he was thinking, and he's not there to answer them, and that's the issue.

If Imogen did hear his last thoughts, this elevates it into a different kind of heartbreaking, but probably still easier overall. The world where they don't know. Is. A more tricky one to navigate, for sure.

But also if I'm being honest. I am not opposed to how the cast would have the Bell's Hells experience and explore that scenario. So i mean. I mean. I hope so too. But if Imogen didnt. Consider me buckled in for whatever happens.

[derelictlovefool]

Hi! I’d like to make a request 😄 I love fics where enemies take care of each other, so how about one where the gender neutral reader/deputy is injured or sick and they show up at John Seed’s ranch. John is surprisingly concerned about them and takes it upon himself to nurse them back to health. Thanks for considering my request!

I am a big fan of these types of fics too! I'm splitting this into parts so I can post some of this finally, thank you for requesting and I hope you like this first part!

Title: Dusk Till Dawn Part One

Warning(s): Descriptions of stitching and cleaning an open wound, canon-typical violence

Words: 8.1k

The sun was slowly settling behind the trees, tinting the skyline with pinks and oranges as that familiar deep blue bled across the sky in the wake of its absence. John inhaled deeply, the smell of wet earth and the candles he'd lit meeting his nose and filling him with a sense of serenity he hadn't experienced since the reaping began. He had been preoccupied cleaning up after the ever troublesome deputy who seemed insistent on leaving a trail of destruction through his valley; but surprisingly they'd been MIA for a few days now. Something John was almost glad about.

Until his mind got the better of him, that is.

Even now, standing on the back porch of his ranch; sipping idly on a steaming mug of coffee and basking in the changing sky he could feel a trickle of worry on the back of his neck. It was infuriating, being worried about someone who was hellbent on knocking down everything he'd worked for; someone whose stubbornness and unwillingness to listen to his point of view further wedged an invisible barrier between them. He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he was worried something had happened to them or the fact that if the roles were reversed they wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over him being gone.

And lose sleep he most definitely had. His eyes droop with the sun as it finally disappears behind the trees, allowing for the moon's soft glow to bathe over the landscape. Each day the deputy was missing was another night John failed to get a full night's rest and it was starting to impair his work. Sighing he mulls over the day and how he'd snapped at a few of his Chosen who were simply doing exactly as he asked—they just happened to be doing it far too loudly and far too close to his open window.

He'd have to apologise, if only for crowd control; it wasn't very unifying for the herald of Holland Valley to be snapping and being irate at project members. Running a hand down his face John heaves out a heavier sigh, this wouldn't be a problem if the deputy was just where they were supposed to be. There were only so many places one could go off the radar in the County, they really couldn't be that far.

Rustling in the bushes pulls John out of his pondering and he feels his spine go rigid, he'd asked for some privacy so all the project members usually stationed at the back of the ranch were at the front and that fact left John a bit more vulnerable than he'd like. He takes a cautious step back, figuring he could probably make it inside before whatever was slinking around in the bushes could reach him. 

But then he catches the sight of familiar eyes, a familiar face covered in blood and dirt stuck in a grimace and he feels his heart stop.

"Deputy."

He mutters the title under his breath, as if trying to assure himself he was really seeing them and not a sleep deprived hallucination. They fall to their knees, one hand clutching their bloodied side as they stare up at him with conflict raging in their eyes. He could tell this wasn't their ideal choice of destination but taking in the state of them, beaten and looking close to death, they obviously didn't have much of a choice.

"John," 

They choke out his name and his blood runs cold from how weak they sound. The deputy always had a tone of confidence, brazen and fiery and doused in a shameful amount of pride; it was jarring to see them like this. That worry that had been fogging John's mind was now an encompassing flurry of panic, his limbs moving before his mind could catch up and he was on his knees beside the deputy in seconds. His tattooed hands flutter about around them for a moment, hesitant to touch them in their fragile state yet desperate to check on their wounds and tend to them.

He doesn't have time to question his own desire to help what some would consider his sworn enemy, as the deputy falls into his chest, their shoulder digging into his sternum and temple resting on his collar bone. The contact urges him to wrap his arms around them and keep them from falling any further. Manoeuvring them to their feet is a struggle, having a near miss of their elbow in his face and a slip of their feet nearly sending them both tumbling down to the ground again. He manages to get their arm around his shoulder and his around their waist, leading them inside as fast as their injured body would allow. 

Each grunt and hiss of pain pricked at John's skin, he found himself wincing as if he were the one injured.

He considered laying them down on the couch but the chance of his chosen walking in and seeing them was too high, so despite their whine of protest he dragged them towards the stairs. They both make it up without falling but the deputy's breathing only grows more ragged as they reach the second floor and John can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as they stagger onto the balcony. Luckily the stray project members are distracted with each other so he gets the deputy into his room without being spotted and lays them down on his bed as quietly as he can manage. 

They don't say anything as John rushes in and out of his ensuite, a medkit in his hands as he returns to their side. John unbuttons the deputy's shirt hastily and their lack of resistance does nothing to ease his anxiety, the blood staining their stomach and deep gash in their side worsens it even more so. He wasn't a doctor, far from it, but even with his limited knowledge he could gauge it was a pretty serious wound. If they were lucky  there would be no internal damage but that wasn't something John could tell just from looking at it. 

John doesn't waste any time, pouring disinfectant on the wound to clean it; doing everything in his power to ignore the agonised noises that escape the deputy's hoarse throat as he wipes the area clean. This isn't exactly how he'd planned his night to go and he assumed it wasn't in the deputy's planner either. He tried to take in the wounds and assess how they got them, maybe a judge or cougar got a good swipe at them, or a project memeber got them in the midst of a fight. It probably didn't really matter. He could hear the chatter of project members out the front and he prayed the music they were playing would drown out the deputy's rising voice.

"You might not be happy about this deputy but i'm afraid you're going to need stitches, I don't have any—"

"Just—do it," The deputy cuts him off and for a moment he finds himself lost in that flickering fire burning deep in their eyes. Even on the verge of bleeding out in their enemies bed they still managed to be as stubborn as ever. Ready to grit their teeth and bear the pain wrought unto them. John couldn't help but smile; he'd almost forgotten how impressive their grit was. He quickly takes out the needle and sutures from the med kit. The deputy squeezes their eyes shut as he threads the needle, and he watches their body tense as the metal makes contact with their overheated skin.

He tries to be quick while also being as meticulous and careful as humanly possible, each time the needle pierces their skin the deputy writhes under his hands. Seeing their attempts to keep from screaming bloody murder is almost impressive, but he was also worried if they kept tensing their jaw like that it would snap. He didn't really have anything to offer as an alternative however so he just kept his head down and focused on closing up their wound.

Under any other circumstances he'd tell them they'd gotten what they asked for; if you set a house on fire while you're still inside what do expect to happen? But with the blood still gushing out of their wound and coating his hands he simply couldn't find it within him to be any kind of teasing or condescending. It was odd, the tension in his shoulders and hammering of his heart against his ribs. He couldn't quite understand where all this anxiety had come from, or why he was feeling it over the deputy who he'd done his fair share of damage to at the point. Well maybe not drawn any blood as of yet but still.

By the time he's done and cutting the thread the deputy is all but unconscious, eyes fluttering and chest heaving as they try to keep themself from succumbing to the exhaustion and pain anchoring them to John's bed. John watches their face for a moment and stands, wandering back to his ensuite almost robotically to dampen a hand towel. He pauses as he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his shirt and hands coated in the deputy's blood, hair out of place thanks to their less than graceful journey to his room and eyes shaken and pupils dilated.

What on earth was he doing? Hadn't he been begging for someone to put a bullet in the deputy's head and save him from their ruthless disruption? Maybe he had been, but maybe he had also been hoping they'd come to their senses and come to him under different circumstances. This was less than ideal but still presented an opportunity. Maybe he could work with this—If they could find it within themself not to succumb to death in his bed.

A groan from the bed steals his attention again and he briskly walks back into the bedroom. The deputy watches him weakly as he folds the hand towel and wipes the freshly stitched wound, being careful not to drag too much over the fresh sutures.

"Thank you," 

John's hand stutters for a moment, shocked by the words they just croaked out. They close their eyes and he's not sure if it's because they truly can't keep them open any more or their weak attempt to avoid holding his gaze. Perhaps the genuine expression of gratitude was embarrassing and they didn't want to see the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Either way, he goes back to wiping the blood and grime from their skin and bites back any comments he could make on their docile attitude. He'd rather enjoy the moment while it lasted instead of sour it in any way.

Bandaging their wound is tricky as they seemingly passed out as soon as they closed their eyes but John manages; tying it off and then throwing what he could of the quilt half underneath the deputy over them. It's then that it sinks in that his perfectly well kept bed is drenched in the deputy's blood as well as covered in dirt and who knows what else. He cringes knowing he'll have to throw a majority of it out, blood did not come out of silk easily enough to bother trying to save it. The quilt he would make an attempt on however; when it was free of the deputy's beaten and bruised body of course.

He stands there, looking down at the deputy as their breathing evens out and their expression relaxes. They almost look peaceful and even more vulnerable than they did bleeding out in his bushes. As he himself was coming down from the adrenaline he slowly mulls over what just happened, cleaning up the med kit and disposing of any rubbish he idled around his bed. What should he do now? He could easily have the deputy taken to his bunker, placed in one of the many rooms to await confession. Their current condition might make them more susceptible to talking.

He could alert Joseph, see what he wanted him to do. But John didn't really want to do that—Not yet. He wanted to prove he could break the deputy on his own, get them to see the truth without any intervention.

He runs his eyes over the deputy once more, the menace that had been haunting him day and night without stopping was finally right in front of him. And he didn't feel how he expected too. He felt relieved. Relieved to see they were alive, albeit very badly injured, they were still breathing and he was thankful for it. He couldn't really understand why, or why he was so ready to help them but what is done is done. 

Slowly he walks closer to the bed and sits on the edge of it, tracing over every feature of the deputy's face with his eyes as if trying to find an answer in the curves of their jaw or slopes of their eyelids. He was coming up with nothing, nothing besides his heart picking up a new pattern to beat too. Completely unrelated to being so close to the usually distant and far away time bomb of a human being before him he was sure.

He reaches out and caresses their temple, dragging his thumb down to their cheekbone. Their skin was soft, still ablaze and covered in a layer of sweat and grime, but soft. The last time he'd been this close to them they were tied to a chair in his bunker, being prepared for confession for the first time. He could still remember the look in their eyes as they glowered up at him, gnashing their teeth like a wild animal as he regaled his tale of finding his path to salvation. He wanted to pull from them their own, learn what had broken them and help them put themself back together. They couldn't see it that way, calling him crazy and cursing him to hell at any chance they got.

The memory brings a small frown to John's face and he retracts his hand, instead running it through his hair as he stands and steps away. If he was lucky, the fact they came to him meant something. And maybe they would actually listen to him for once, with the option of fleeing no longer being viable in their current condition. Maybe…

The next morning John is alerted to the deputy waking by the sound of his bed creaking and their low pained groan that runs along the floorboards. He hurries to finish off what he was doing, tossing the dirty frying pan in the sink and putting the plate of what he would call a successful attempt at eggs benedict on a tray. He hums as he places a glass of juice beside it along with a fork and lastly a napkin.

He decided it best not to give them a knife for the time being, for his own safety. 

It was a spur of the moment decision to make breakfast, John didn't usually cook for himself let alone others but he was feeling particularly chivalrous this morning. And with his surprise guest in the condition they were in he thought it only polite; and perhaps his show of kindness would make them more inclined to follow his lead. Plus showing another side of himself may help the deputy come around to him, there was a disconnevt he was sure was created solely from distance and unfamiliarity. If he could bridge that gap he would get through to them, he knew it.

Climbing up the stairs and heading to his room John carefully nudged the door open with his shoulder, walking in only to be immediately met with a gun pointed at him. His gun to be in fact. Lovely. He forgot to take it from the bedside drawer while they were passed out, good grief he was losing his touch. He'd blame it on the mess of a night, being thrust into playing doctor and lack of sleep had thrown him off his game is all. He would be more careful going forward.

"Good morning deputy, I hope you slept well." He greets, continuing inside as if they weren't pointing his own weapon at his head. If he played it calm and collected surely they'd understand he wasn't a threat to them right now, or at the very least stop pointing his own gun at him. They falter, eyeing him and the tray in his hand. Their brows knit together, clearly suspicious of him, but they lower the gun by a small margin and lean back against the pillows. Their body is still tense and index finger still hooked around the trigger so John keeps his movements slow and careful. The last thing he wanted was to get shot for trying to do a good deed.

"What are you doing?" They ask warily as he sets the tray down on the bedside table, wiping his hands on his jean clad thighs as he steps back. Giving them their space and allowing them to inspect the tray with a distrustful gaze. Like a wolf sniffing at bait in the forest.

"After a person loses that much blood they've usually got quite the appetite, am I wrong?" He asks, tone almost casual as he eyes their bloodied clothes and bruised skin. In the morning light their injuries were much more obvious, aside from the gash he'd stitched up the night before their skin was littered in cuts and the bruises painting their skin could almost mimic a very muddied galaxy. Not to mention the blood and grime covering them from head to toe—they'd most certainly seen better days. 

"You… Didn't cook that, did you?" They ask after a moment of eyeing the plate of what John would personally describe a very delicious looking breakfast. The deputy lowers the gun to their lap and glances at him for confirmation.

"I hardly think you're in the position to be picky about your food deputy, it's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking. I wouldn't let you ruin my sheets just to kill you in the most unsatisfying way I could imagine," John scoffs, somewhat offended they would think he'd do something so plain. He was more creatuve than poison for fucks sake. They roll their eyes gently and push themself up more, tentatively reaching out and grabbing the fork on the tray. They very carefully take a bite, as if one wrong move would leave them choking and fighting for life. All the while they watch John from the corner of their eye as they slowly chew and eventually swallow; his expression remaining pleasant as he watches them. 

It was funny in an odd way, they were behaving like a feral dog brought in from the wild and given food for the first time. He'd be best to keep that thought to himself though, if only to avoid having his gun pointed at him again. He didn't want any holes in his walls or himself for that matter.

"Well look at that, you survived. Not the most awful thing you've tasted, hm?" He asks after a moment and they eye him for a second in silence before nodding begrudgingly.

"No,"

"Good, eat all of it, you need it. I'm sure you'll regale me about how you ended up in my bushes half alive and bleeding out when you're feeling better," He hums, flicking his hand in the air in a dismissive motion as he turns to look out the window.

"I feel fine now," They mutter and John huffs out a short laugh. He highly doubted that.

"Oh is that so? Well by all means you're free to leave, deputy, don't let me stop you," He smiles at them over his shoulder, waving towards the door he came through as they glare at him.

"Really, you'd just let me leave? Just like that?" They ask, distrust clear in their voice.

"Well you may find my chosen a bit hard to walk through outside but I won't alert any of them if you really think you can successfully sneak out in your condition," John smirks, raising a brow as they glance past him to the window. Honestly he'd be interested to see if they could, they'd pulled off seemingly impossible tasks before with much greater risks and disadvantages involved.

"They don't know I'm here?" They ask incredulously, voice hushed now as if they were worried about being overheard. John almost feels embarrassed for a moment, it was definitely a confusing choice not to let his family's followers know he had the catalyst of the apocalypse in his bed  especially when they posed a very real threat to John's life. He'd thought about all of that, he knew there was a chance this could go south and all his hopes were for naught. But he still decides to risk it. There was no success without risks after all.

"No and I assume no one else does either?" He muses, watching as their face morphs through multiple emotions before settling on unease. They had just inadvertently trapped themself with their enemy and despite John's good intentions they weren't privy to his inner monologue and regret danced in their eyes as clear as day.

"This is quite the predicament isn't it deputy? What compelled you to come to my doorstep of all places I wonder," He can't help but taunt, turning back to face them and wandering to the end of the bed with a small smirk on his face.

"I wasn't really thinking straight, blood loss will do that to you," They mutter bitterly, glaring down at the food he'd given them as their shoulders sag slightly. Not from defeat but perhaps a resignation to their current situation. John decides not to poke them any longer, the stress and fatigue woven into their features causing a heavy weight to wash over his chest. He was trying to be civil and amicable and failing miserably. They could go back to their hostile back and forth quipping when they felt better.

"So i've heard—I'll leave you to your breakfast deputy," He utters quickly, ducking his head as he swivels on his heel and makes his way to the door. He can feel their stare burning into the back of his skull like a magnifying glass zoning in on an ant. That was good, in a way, their usual intensity was back which meant they were already much better off than they were last night. Hopefully the food would help and after that he could offer them the antibiotics he'd dug out of his medicine cabinet earlier that morning.

When he returns about ten minutes later the deputy is laying back against the pillows, cradling their stomach with their eyes squeezed shut. John makes sure they hear him coming and their eyes fly open and zero in on him as he approaches. He holds out a glass of water and the antibiotics as they point his gun at his chest, eyes guarded as they frown gently.

"I'll need to move you to another room for a moment, you did make a mess of my bed and I'll need to change it if I plan on sleeping in it anytime soon," He informs them as they push themself up, caustiously sitting on the edge of the bed and taking pills hesitantly, other hand still protective clinging to the gun.

"You're… Letting me stay?"

"Letting is one word for it," John hums, tilting his head to the side as they pop the pills in their mouth and take a sip of the water after taking the glass from him. He was surprised they didn't ask what he was giving them, seeing as they were so on guard.

"Keeping me captive then?" They prod further, eyes glancing up at him and John feels himself get winded for a moment. The food had obviously helped as that fire was starting to dance in their captivating eyes again, the flames cutting through him as they watched him with caution.

"Like I said, you're free to leave as soon as you can do so on your own two feet," John turns his gaze to the empty plate as he speaks, anything to avoid being swallowed by their inferno. Had their eyes always been that distracting?

"Why?"

The question hangs in the air and John furrows his brows in confusion.

"Why what?"

The deputy scoffs and leans back, holding their arms out and nearly spilling the water in their hand.

"You've been hunting me down for months, this is like your big opportunity to squeeze a confession out of me isn't it?" They ask, brows raised incredulously. John mulls over their words for only a second, trying not to let his rush of eagerness show as he nods down at them.

"If you wish to confess I am all ears deputy but, you came to me in your time of need. You could have gone to any of those little heretics you run around with but you came to me; call it what you want but I believe this is a step in a new direction for us," He smiles, placing a hand on his chest as he speaks. He reaches out and places a hesitant hand on their shoulder, their body goes rigid at the touch and they glance from his tattooed hand to his face. But they don't try to move it.

Once again their face twists through different emotions, settling on frustration as they shake their head and heave out a sigh.

"What does that even mean?" They ask, voice strained and tired as they raise a hand to grab his wrist. Their fingers wrapping around him sends jolts of electricity up his arm but he tries to ignore it, clearing his throat and tightening his grip on their ragged shirt.

"It means you will give me your confessions willingly, in time, and until then I will be patient and I will give you your time," John elaborates earnestly, squeezing their shoulder and offering another smile; this one much more giddy. He was so sure he was right, he could feel it deep within him. Just them being here was proof enough for him that they were edging closer to what he was saying. They would come around and see what he'd been trying to tell them, he knew they would. He just had to wait.

The deputy watches his assured expression, takes in his words slowly and removes his hand from their shoulder much to his disappointment.

"You're gonna be waiting a long time," They mutter, not bitterly, not even begrudgingly. They sound unsure, hesitant, and it only makes that spark of hope in his chest grow.

"Then so be it, but I have faith in you deputy; this is proof you have the ability to come around," John retracts his hand, missing the feeling of their skin against his immediately as he drops his hand to his side.

"Whatever makes you happy John—let's just get this over with," They sigh and John takes the glass from their hand. He places it on the bedside table before holding a hand out to them, they look at it like it's an iron rod ready to brand them, but they take it all the same. He eases them up onto their feet, his other hand resting on their abdomen to steady them. He notices they had left the gun on the bed, he chooses not to comment on it lest they reach for it and bring it with them.

John wraps his arm around their waist, just like he did last night; except this time they're fully conscious and not searing hot to the touch. They're skin is still warm and as their arm slings over his shoulder he can now fully appreciate how soft their skin feels against his. Their aroma leaves something to be desired, dried blood and sweat was never a good combination. He'd think about running them a bath once he was done, they were still weak but he knew they'd refuse if he suggested helping them bathe. A pity, he muses for only a moment, side eyeing the deputy's face as they slowly shuffle out the door. 

The deputy cringes as the sun blinds the both of them, and they duck further into John's side as they bow their head to hide from the offensive light. The contact sends shivers up John's spine but once again he tightens his jaw and tries to ignore it. He slowly guides them to the guest bedroom, he sees them glance down at the yard and look back at him with confusion knitted into their expression and he chuckles gently.

"I sent them away, only for an hour. Just enough time to clean up and get you comfortable," He explains easily, opening the door and leading them inside. It was smaller than his room, with a single bed, two bedside tables and a small round table and chair tucked away under the far window. The deputy doesn't comment on what he said, they just nod and let him lead them to the table and chair tucked away in the corner. He helps them into the chair, they grunt with the effort and wrap a protective arm around their stomach as they curl in on themself.

John rests a comforting hand on their back, rubbing gently despite the warning sirens in his head telling him not to be so bold and familiar. They do nothing to stop him so he keeps his hand there. He almost doesn't want to leave, seeing them in such a pitiful state had a foreign feeling flooding his chest and the thought of leaving them made him feel ill. But he also needed somewhere to sleep and the longer he let the blood soak his bed the longer it would take to clean. 

The mattress was going to be a nightmare he realises, perhaps he could get a chosen to clean it. He's sure he could come up with a believable enough story about the blood, one that didn't involve the deputy hunched over in front of him right now.

"I'll be right back, feel free to read any of those books if you get bored," John mutters quietly, motioning lazily to the bookshelf by the table before letting his hand fall from their back.

"Right."

They all but cough the word out, not looking up at him as they glance toward the books. Admittedly they were mostly law books but there were a few others thrown in there, surely something could appease them. If they read, he wondered if they actually liked books. What kind of books did they enjoy if they did, did they prefer fiction? What was their favourite book? Author? John leaves the room with a whirlwind of pointless questions filling his mind, in due time maybe he'd be able to ask them. Maybe they'd answer.

John walks back to his room and frowns at the sight of his bed. Without the deputy there he could see the full extent of the damage, a hauntingly large blood stain clung to the material and he shuddered to think what state the mattress beneath it was in. He looked down at his watch, sighing and rolling up his sleeves. It takes him a few trips to get all the bedding to the laundry and a few times he almost trips down the stairs but he manages to get the bed stripped. And lo and behold, the mattress looks like a murder scene. 

He does his best to scrub the top layer of blood off of the material before dousing it in disinfectant and laundry detergent—surely that would do something? It would be enough for now before he decided on what poor soul was going to clean this for him. He might need a new mattress, not that it would be easy to find a queen sized mattress laying around at the moment. He runs a raw hand through his hair, he'd worry about that later, right now he had a guest waiting for him in the room over.

He steps out onto the balcony, breathing in the fresh air deeply and allowing it to wash out the strong smell of chemicals. He stands outside his door for a moment, running his blue eyes along the landscape and taking in the mountains in the distance. He wondered if the deputy ever stopped to appreciate the scenery, with how much they ran around the county he could only imagine they had to stop every now and then to at least catch their breath.

He turns and steps toward the guest bedroom door, twisting the knob and nudging the door open slowly. The deputy's eyes are on him immediately and John smiles at the sight of an open book in front of them on the small table.

"You took your time," They say quietly after a moment of the both of them staring off silently, turning their gaze back to the book. John scoffs gently and steps further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe.

"Well deputy, I don't know if you know this but you bleed quite a lot and blood stains are not that easy to remove," He says, watching as the deputy shoots him an unimpressed look.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I'll try to bleed less next time." They say, the sarcasm dripping from their words an absolute delight to hear and John can't help but grin.

"That would be greatly appreciated thank you," He teases, grin widening as they roll their eyes at him. It felt so—friendly—normal. It felt good. Talking with them like this, like they were friends and not enemies—it felt right. Like it's how they were meant to be. A small ache echoes in the hollow of John's chest as he remembers that's not what they were, not yet at least. 

"Do you have a shower in that fancy ensuite of yours?" The deputy pulls him away from the nagging thought and he nods in response to their questioning gaze.

"I do but I believe a bath would be better suited considering…" John trails off, waving his hand in a sweeping motion over the deputy's form, still very battered and bruised. And very dirty. 

"I think i'll manage," They press their lips into a firm line as they decline his suggestion and he shrugs gently.

"Alright deputy have it your way, if you need my help—"

"I won't." 

Their words are firm. They sting a bit and John has to swallow the spark of annoyance it causes. It's not like he was helping them already or anything, no, patching them up, letting them sleep in his bed and making them breakfast couldn't possibly count as that. He bites his tongue, something he seemed to be doing quite a lot. He'd have to tread carefully lest all his unsaid comments accumulated and burst out in a fit of frustration. Not that his dear deputy was going to make that an easy task.

It would be worth it, just a bit longer, he could do it.

"Then I suppose you can hobble to the ensuite yourself hm?" 

He could be a small bit petty as compensation, it was only fair. 

The look of irritation that flashes across the deputy's face is rewarding to say the least. But then they're standing, holding themself up on the table and staring him down with that steely determination in their eyes. John watches as they stagger towards him, their legs almost giving out halfway across the floor and face twisted into a look of pain as they pass the bed.

Forever impressing him with their mere grit they stop in front of him, breath ragged from the effort of dragging their body across the room. John drags his gaze from their booted feet to their face and he smiles, reaching behind him and pulling the door open for them.

"You are something else deputy," He muses, stepping out and holding the door open for them. They grip the doorframe and stagger past him, grunting with the effort. They steady themself on the railing of the balcony and John glides to his door, swinging it open and keeping his eyes trained on the deputy as they hobble in his direction. It was cute, in a weird way, like watching a fawn take its first steps. A very angry, stubborn fawn glaring at him like he was forcing them to walk on their own. He would help but they would have to ask first. Nicely.

They make it into his room and pause by the doorway as their leg almost gives out again. This time John catches them by the elbow, they lean into his side as he guides them back up and despite himself he wraps one arm around their waist again. He'd love the satisfaction of having them ask for his help but he knows that won't happen and they'll just end up standing in the doorway all day. They don't utter a single word as he helps them the rest of the way to the ensuite. He could rub in the fact they do need his help but then they would no doubt become twice as difficult and he'd rather avoid that. 

Plus, it was much sweeter to bask in their semi-defeated silence. 

John lets them go and they lean against the sink, their scrutinising gaze running along the tiled walls before landing on him through the mirror. 

"Think I got from here," The mutter, eyes fluttering down to the sink. John nods but doesn't move, eyes transfixed on the way their eyelashes fan over the top of their frike covered cheeks. They look criminally soft, even from a distance. The deputy glances back up and he straightens up abruptly, inhaling sharply and turning with another small nod.

"Alright—Well if you need anything i'll be right outside,"

"Comforting,"

John shuts the door behind him as he leaves, rolling his eyes and letting his hand fall to his side. It would be comforting if they had more faith in him. He wasn't an animal, he wasn't going to attack them while they were already down. Not only would it not be rewarding it would go against all the work he'd done trying to get them to break their icy walls. He hears shuffling behind the wooden door, no doubt the deputy undressing and he feels a mismatch of feelings stir within him at the thought. His enemy was getting undressed in his bathroom and was about to use his shower. 

A stray thought of them falling and needing him to rush in and help ran across his mind and he swatted away as quickly as it came. 

He listens to the sound of the running water with a frown etched onto his face. He runs his thumb along his bottom lip as he stands there lost in thought, the project members and his chosen would be back in thirty or so minutes and he had until then to make up his mind about what he was really doing here.

While the deputy had done everything in their power thus far to blow his plans up into smoke they did provide a challenge he hadn't faced before. A challenge he wanted to win. He was sure he could get away with having them here for a week without any problems, if they decided to stay that long anyway. And if anything it would be beneficial to the project, they were the main cause of disruption thus far and having them out of the picture would make room for repairs and getting back on track.

If anyone found out the deputy was here, he could explain it that way and he was sure no one would question him. He could also take this time to try and ease them into their atonement, maybe having a moment of rest would let them see some reason. It would probably be easier to hold conversation now that they couldn't really run away or shut off their radio and ignore him.

Yes. Alright. There it was then, he'd made up his mind.

"John,"

He jumps at the deputy's voice through the door. Fuck, he hadn't honestly stood their that long had he? He hadn't gotten lost in his thoughts like this for a long time. He hears them repeat his name again and for a moment he considers staying silent just so he can hear it roll off their tongue one more time—but he decides against it.

"Yes deputy?" He clears his throat and answers as evenly as he can.

"Kinda gonna need some clothes," 

Ah right. Of all the things to forget.

"Right, One moment," He walks over to his dresser, picking out a shirt and sweatpants and placing them on the edge of the bed. He steps back, running his hands down his jeans as he glances at the bathroom door.

"I'll leave them here on the edge of the bed, unless you'd like some help?" He calls through the door, tacking on the suggestion as an innocent after thought. He had no ulterior motives in mind whatsoever, he was just being helpful. In their state they might struggle to change, it would be practical to have him assist.

"I'll pass, thanks," The deputy replies dryly and John chuckles, he expected nothing less.

"Well I'll be right outside if you change your mind." He calls out, making his way out the door and closing it loud enough so the deputy could hear it. 

He pauses outside the door and then takes a seat on one of the chairs by the window, clasping his hands together and running his thumb over his knuckle. Faintly he hears the ensuite door open and the deputy stagger out. A decade ago he might have turned and snuck a peek through the tinted glass, but he hadn't been that man in a long time and he kept his gaze on the road and trees in front of him. The windows were tinted anyway, he wouldn't see more than a hunched over, struggling blob micmiking a vague human shape.

Minutes tick by and John listens to the sound of the deputy struggling, it was amusing to say the least. Their annoyed grunts and curses barely make it through the thick wooden walls and to his ears. When the ruckus stops he stands, flipping his wrist over and checking the time with mild disinterest. A small part of him considered making a call and telling his chosen to stay gone for the rest of the day, but then the deputy might very well sneak out and run off into the wilderness once again. Despite their hesitancy beforehand John wasn't fully confident in their ability to stay put, they were stubborn and if he poked and prodded just an inch too far they'd crawl out of his ranch and right into a ditch.

And if that happened who would be to blame? Themself obviously—but others would no doubt put the blame on John. Joseph wouldn't be happy that he was certain of. The thought makes an unpleasant feeling curl around John's throat and he rubs at it as if to alleviate the phantom feeling. He'd just have to make sure the deputy was fully healed before they left, that way no one could point the finger in his direction if they succumbed to deaths embrace.

"Are you still out there?"

At the deputy's question John steps back to the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob and he turns it slowly, allowing the deputy time to react before he pulls it open and steps inside. They sat on the edge of the bed, glaring at him and adorning his clothes. He feels a lump in his throat at the sight, the fabric that usually draped over his skin on slow Saturdays now fell over theirs—it looked so natural. Like they were meant to wear his clothes, sit in his bed, watch him with that calculating glare.

"So now what?" They snap him back to reality and he rips his gaze back up to their eyes, they looked much livelier after the shower. Much more themselves now all the grime and blood was gone.

"Hm? Well rest is about the only thing you can do, in this state." He muses with the smallest shrug of his left shoulder.

"For how long?" The gawk, shoulders tense as they straighten their back.

"Well given the state of your wound I'd say a few days—"

"Days? Here? With you?" The deputy almost barks and John purses his lips into a straight line. He tries not to take offence, even though the horror on their face was anything but flattering. They could show a tad more appreciation for his willingness to let them stay, after everything they'd done and all he'd selflessly forgiven. He was being more than accommodating.

"Yes, with me, is that so terrible? I think you'll find when you're not raging your warpath and fighting me I'm quite pleasant company." He smiles, as if to convince them of his words. They give him a blank stare in return and it takes everything in John not to scowl.

"Right, I'll believe that when I see it."

A challenge. 

Simple, easy. John had wonderful table manners and his conversational prowess was unrivalled, as long as his companion was willing to be cooperative. 

"Trust me, by the time you're back on your feet you'll barely want to leave. I doubt Miss Fairgrave offers breakfast in bed after all." John hums, clapping his hands together and tilting his head as the deputy rolls their eyes and turns away from him. They drag their eyes over the expanse of his room and for a moment John does the same, checking the state of it and assuring himself it was more than presentable. Not a thing out of place after the thorough clean of the bed.

"Nah, but she's got whiskey." The Deputy shoots back, turning with a smug smile sneaking onto their face. It's quite a sight, one that gives John another pause. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the first time he'd seen the deputy smile.

"No whiskey, i'm afraid, but I do have scotch or wine." At his words the deputy's eyebrows shoot up almost comically.

"I thought you weren't allowed to drink?" They inquire, tone puzzled as they look at him with curious eyes.

"It's solely for special occasions." John said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Special occasions or lonely nights where he stayed up too long, a small indulgence no one needed to know about.

"And this is a special occasion?"

"Yes. Very." If only they knew. This was his chance. Both of their chances to prove something to Joseph, to get that golden ticket into Eden. A few days were more than enough for John to get them to understand what he'd been trying to tell them, if he gave them a behind the scenes view of what he did for the project they'd understand how he could help them. He was sure of it.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me what happened over a glass?" John suggests, stepping forward and noting how the deputy didn't recoil or glare at him as he approached. Their gaze shifts to the floor and then to his now outstretched hand, hope bubbles along John's finger tips as he watches them like a hawk watching it's prey. Finally, after a moment of hesitation they take his hand. Their hand is warm, soft from the shower and their skin glides against his hypnotically. 

He tries to ignore the fire set by their touch and helps them to their feet once more. The time much slower as he slides his arm around their waist and taking his time to guide them to the door. He wanted to savour the feeling dancing through him, the glee clouding his thoughts. This was progress. This was good.

[wrengrif]

It is time for my favorite game...

Good Omens, What If.

Now yesterday, I read an amazing post by @ishomieokay, who postulated a very convincing theory that Aziraphale was going to end up being the Big Bad, because Supreme Archangel power was going to corrupt him.

Naturally this made me sad -- until I really started to think about it.

What If - Aziraphale did become power-mad?

What if he did become 'You Bullied Me And Now I'm Your Boss, Bitch' Supreme Archangel. Like it would be so FUCKING BAMF. Utterly horrifying, but utterly BAMF. He walks through the elevator, one of the archangels says something snide (my money is on Sandalphon, asshole), and Aziraphale just Supreme Archangel kicks him through the Heavenly Moon Door and makes him Fall. And while the other archangels are standing there, gaping, he straightens his collar and says, "I think you'll all find I have very little use for abusive language. Do keep that in mind. Where is my office?"

After that it's like as it's Lucifer 2 - The Principality Strikes Back. Aziraphale censuring angels left and right. Uriel doesn't get kicked - Uriel gets beaten for what they said about Crowley and then thrown out for a million mile dive. He makes Michael re-do the entire Second Coming. He's punching and kicking a hole in the archangel system that should be filled by someone who is willing to pull on the brakes. But no one does! Everyone is Too Fucking Scared.

The Metatron realizes that he hasn't trapped Aziraphale up there with them, they are all trapped here by A z i r a p h a l e. Aziraphale who is going to burn everything down because none of it is worthy (Aziraphale isn't worthy) of God's Love and they are just going to tear Heaven and Hell down to the nubs in the floor, and maybe Earth too because you know what, none of it is worthy of God (Crowley). Finally, Saraquel has had enough. She slaps the Down Button to Earth. Rolls herself into whatever dive bar that Crowley is in, and tells him point blank that if he doesn't help stop Aziraphale, it's going to be worse than Armageddon. Everything is going to be destroyed down to atoms, even wine.

Crowley gets to do two things that he's probably always wanted to do. One, he gets to be James Bond. Breaking into the Heaven (the Bond villain lair), knocking out some angel guards, maybe even punching Metatron in the face for getting them all into this situation in the first place. Second, he gets to kick open the doors to the Supreme Archangel's office, stare Aziraphale down from where he's seated behind his invisible glass desk (I imagine him petting a white duck. Why? I don't know.), looking forbidding and dressed in a silver white that matches his hair and his beard. Stereo-typical God, y'know.

And they stare at each other, for a long moment, glowering with all the hurt, and pain, and still - still - love that they have both known for six thousand years. Finally, Aziraphale speaks, his purple eyes flickering, "So what exactly are you supposed to be?" Crowley smiles That Sharp Smile, that one that Aziraphale adores. The one he actually fears. Crowley reaches behind his coat, and says, "Me? Crowley. Anthony J. Crowley. And I'm now the world's greatest magician, because I'm about to make you disappear." Aziraphale tenses in his throne, filled with that same sense of dread and can it be, hope? that Crowley is here to end him. Crowley doesn't look away as he growls, "Hocus Pocus, Supreme Arsehole." He pulls in front of him .... a bird cage. With a nightingale in it. Who immediately begins to sing. Crowley takes off his glasses, looks Aziraphale dead in the eye, and speaks in a rough voice. "I forgive you."

And just like that ... the Supreme Archangel crumbles down into dust, leaving behind a weeping Aziraphale.

End scene.

... I'd probably add some explosions in there. Just for fun. Oooooh and when Crowley is kicking ass through Heaven the song that plays is 'Don't Stop Me Now'.

[soundslikediamonds]

Hey so on another note, and I hope this isn't annoying, but could you do a one-shot where reader is attacked by ex and Austin (current boyfriend) comes to her rescue and takes care of her but she promises she's okay (she's in complete denial) but then it all becomes to much and she bursts into tears and begs Austin to hold her. P.s. I actually have written something similar to this but never posted it. If you want I can send it to you to use and add too. What do you think?

You have just made history for being the very first person on earth who's requested a one-shot so AHHH I'm SUPER NERVOUS but kinda excited for you to read?!?!? I hope this is something that you liked/wanted. I really hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing it!!! Lots of love, thank you for encouraging me as a writer always!💗💗

Word count: 3477

Warnings: slight mentions of taking advantage of people, small violence, discomfort.

I'm Okay, You're Okay

"Hey," Austin's voice interrupts what you're in the middle of saying and you come to a halt, looking over at him from across the dinner table. Your boyfriend usually isn't one to interrupt you or pay little attention and so you sit up a little bit straighter knowing that there has to be a reason for him cutting you off.

His blue eyes- usually filled with light and sparkle now looks dim and a wary look flashes on his face as he looks over your head and behind where you are.

"Isn't that Todd?" He asks in an uneasy voice.

You raise an eyebrow. "What?"

Austin leans in his seat, his eyes darting from over your head, to back at your face. "Todd. I think that's him."

Your face falls and confusion travels through your mind. You have no doubt it is Todd, your ex-boyfriend of a year and a half. It's not like he's moved or anything. It isn't like after a break up as cold as yours, he wouldn't be gone and disappear from your life. Sure, you've decided not to go to what used to be Todd and your favorite spots, in hopes to not see him, but you knew you couldn't act like he didn't exist forever. You've sort of even wondered how things would be like if you saw him again, but now you didn't have to wonder, as was now here when your boyfriend was on your date night.

"Is he with someone?" You ask.

Much to your suprise Austin shakes his head. "Nah, he's alone."

"Should I...should I look behind me?" You whisper in hesitation.

Austin pauses in contemplation as he looks at the far table before he speaks out. "I don't know....I don't wanna get the wrong guy. Just pretend you're cracking your back or something."

You nod. "On it." You say and then hold the frame of the chair, now twisting your back. Your eyes scan the rest of the restaurant, seeing many unknown faces until finally, near the back booth you recognize that indeed your ex is here. He's on his phone, typing away as what you suspect the steaming plate is rice in front of him. That man loved nothing more than his rice.

You turn back in your chair, looking at Austin who nervously sits across from you, awaiting your answer. "It is him." You confirm.

Austin nods, picking up his fork. "Figured as much."

"Do I-"

"We'll just stay here, act like he's not even here. There's nothing to worry about." Austin reassures you with a smile. Then he looks at your face and his eyes suddenly change to a more protective gaze.

"There is nothing to worry about, right?" He asks.

You nod, reaching over to take a sip of your drink. "Yeah, there's nothing to worry about." You concur. But why is it that when you're even saying this, you don't know for a fact if you're right?

______

Dinner goes surprisingly well but you are a little more quiet than usually. Austin sensed that, which is why he always asked if you were okay every few minutes. You assured him you were fine, and soon were in better spirits when Austin told you that Todd had got up and left, going through the backdoor. It didn't seem he saw you and you were glad.

It wasn't like Todd was a monster, per se. If anything he was rather the opposite. You were both really good friends in high school and had reconnected after a time. You both had similar likes and dislikes, habbits and hobbies. Your families were friends with each other. Things seemed to be okay, until he had a new job. At this job, there was a woman that he'd seemed suspiciously close to. You didn't want to be one of those girlfriends who questioned it much, until you actually met this girl for yourself. They had extreme chemistry with each other. It didn't take long for you to start questioning Todd, who only refused and said that you were always jumping to conclusions and assuming things. That's when the yelling would start. That's when he'd turn bitter and angry over everything. In one outburst, Todd finally told you that you were too plain for him and had nothing to offer him. You weren't taking his advantages and he soon grew to resent that. He then said that was the reason why he had Jane, or Lane, or whatever name she had for some reason you couldn't remember. They were there for each other sexually, friends with benefits, Todd admitted. You broke up with him right when he confessed to sleeping with her.

Surprisingly you didn't miss Todd much, or even what you had. Sometimes you think more of the friendship the two of you had much than the relationship. Todd was a good man unfortunately held up with his own tentive desires. It cost your relationship, sure, but it wasn't very long until you found Austin, who you like to call your angel. Austin's not like Todd at all. There's so much respect, love, value, and care that this man has. He's not one to rush anything, and simply enjoys sitting next to you, not even having to say anything. He compliments you, making you feel pretty over and over again as his lips meet the features you've always been insecure about.

"Let's head out?" Austin says, as he stands. The bill is already paid, and your foods are done, the plates wiped clean. You nod, a small yawn escaping your mouth.

"Yep." You say, standing up and pushing in your chair. You grab your coat, just draping it on your shoulders for the night breeze.

You both leave for the night, walking through the revolving doors and you're just about ready to head home. Normally after your Friday night dinners you and Austin would watch a movie, sharing a blanket as you cuddle on the couch with popcorn in your laps. Tonight was not the night, however, as you could feel your eyes starting to droop. You can't wait to go home, have the feel of changing from high heels to slippers, wiping away your makeup and changing into one of Austin's shirts on top of sweats. It's fun to dress up and you're always down for date nights, but some days, you know that sleep is just as nice.

"Oh, the car is on the other side." You suddenly remember, voicing your thoughts out loud when you look at the parking lot. You groan out loud.

Austin lets out a chuckle as he smiles at the ground. "Yeah. You feel like walking?" He asks.

You turn to look up at Austin, reaching out for his hand and mindlessly playing with his fingers. You shake your head and give that smile that you always do, leaning against him when you try to make him give in to what you want.

"Nuh uh." You say, and Austin smiles, looking down at you. He can just tell your motives right from the look in your eyes.

"Right, you want me to walk all the way over and then drive to you." He says exactly what you're thinking, and you laugh, leaning against him.

"Please? You love me." You point out.

Austin lets out an audible sigh. "Unfortunately." He says, leaning forward and cupping the side of your face with his hand. He gives you a quick kiss before he pulls away, removing strands of hair from your face.

"I'll be 2 minutes." He says.

You smile. "Thank you."

Austin sighs once more, a 'why-do-I-put-up-with-you' smile present on his face as he starts walking away, leaving you by the sidewalk.

"Love youuuu!" You sing-song.

"Yeah, yeah, love you most." Austin swats his hand down in a playful dismissive gesture and you laugh to yourself, watching your boyfriend's retreating figure until he heads down the corner going to the other side where you can't see him anymore. That's the thing with Austin, he leaves that effect where even seconds after a brief and cute moment, you're still smiling, so anyone walking down the street would think you're a crazy person. But you love that about him anyway.

"Awwww, how cute that your pretty boyfriend leaves you all by yourself." An all too familiar voice says from behind you.

Todd.

You turn slowly, facing the man who you once were so close to. Nothing has really changed except for the stubble he was growing. You realize that during all this time you haven't said anything, and you need to be civil. You give a small smile.

"Hi Todd." You greet.

"Did you really think," Todd starts walking towards you. "That I didn't notice you back here? You think I really couldn't recognize you?" He asks.

There's a look in his eyes, that look blood-shot, and then a certain smell reaches your nose and you realize he's intoxicated.

Today out of all days. Tonight out of all nights.

You pray in your head that Austin can come back quickly. Todd's anger was one thing, but his drinking problem was another.

You look down the street, but no familiar vehicle comes to your sight. A slight panic starts rising in your chest but you can't afford to look fightened. Todd was always more better when you didn't resist or fight. He liked things when you were quiet and calm, because it made him more calm. He was the reflection of you.

You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the road. You know Austin will be here. You won't have to stay much longer.

"Hey," Todd's voice raises as he takes a few more steps in your space, to which you back away. Your hands go in almost in reflex and your heart pounds as Todd looks at you almost seething himself. You know that look. This is just the icing of the cake by him meeting you right here. He was already angy prior to this moment.

That makes things so much worse.

"You couldn't have moved on from me that easily." He bellows, with an evil grin.

You are uncomfortable, trying to move away from Todd as much as you can before he takes your wrist, twisting it in such a grip you can't help but now but speak.

"Hey! Let go!" You say.

"Come on, baby. You know you want me."

You shake your head. "Please just let go of me."

"You think your pretty boyfriend wants you? He'll leave you as soon as he realizes you think you're too good for anyone. That's what that is, right? You think you're to good for anyone's advantages?" Todd whispers in your ear and you squirm, trying to get away, but the strength of his hold grabs both of your wrists.

"He doesn't wanna be with you. He's only there for you to satisfy him and as soon as he gets what he wants, he'll leave you. Then you'll come crawling to me." Todd whispers.

It's worse that he's whispering in your ear, because everyone around wouldn't think you're in need of much help. People come out of the restaurant every few seconds, but Todd just smiles and lets go only for him to grab you as soon as strangers cross the street.

"Why don't you wanna be with me, huh? You think you're better than what I can give you?" Todd now holds your arms, leaning his face dangerously close to your own.

With all of your strength you place your hands on Todd's chest and pushes him and he stumbles back for a few seconds and you try moving away from, yet he comes back. Between your high heels and his stamina and influence, he takes your shoulders, pushing you into the supporting brick wall. You feel the skin in your upper shoulder scrape against the wall and you close your eyes for a second.

A car tire screeches in front of where you both are, and your eyes avert to headlights in the darkness and you know it's Austin. You're panting, just as Todd now moves away and turns to the car. The door opens and sure enough Austin steps out, slamming the door with such force the car might as well break. He rushes over, his mouth pressed together in a thin line, eyes ablaze, and eyebrows furrowed. He looks beyond angry, which you don't encounter much because Austin's not one to be angry.

With so much of a loud clomp in the steps of his platform shoes, Austin goes right at Todd's face, causing Todd to start backing up, his eyes showing a flash of fear before going back to normal.

"You don't touch my girlfriend. You don't ever touch my girlfriend, ever. If something like this happens again, you're gonna wish it didn't." Austin jeers, pointing a finger at Todd's chest.

Todd scoffs, taking a step back. "You think you're all that." He slurs.

Austin glares. "Your words, not mine. Now get out of her face before I do something I regret." He threats in such a authoritative tone, you wince, while Todd leaves the both of you, disappearing behind the restaurant to who knows where.

You're left standing stunned just as Austin rushes over to where you are.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he say anything? What else did he do?" Austin suddenly asks, holding both sides of your face with his hands, and he levels down and looks at you eye-level. Anger in his face is washed away with concern but you shake your head, smiling a little.

"I'm okay."

"I shouldn't have came so late! No, I should've just carried you bridal style all the way to the car. What I was thinking leaving you alone like this?" Austin asks, panic in his voice. You shake your head, knowing that unfortunately in all this, Austin is going to blame himself.

"Next time, I'm carrying you, I'm dead serious. This isn't happening again. Ever. I'm not doing this- how could I do this to you?" Austin asks, walking away from your hold to pace. He runs fingers through his hair in stress and you step towards him, reaching out.

"It's okay, really. You didn't know."

"It's not okay." Austin denies, shaking his head. He gestures. "This is not okay."

"Austin-"

"Did he hurt you?"

"No." You shake your head. You're not defending Todd. You're not lying on his behalf so that Austin doesn't go about his way and kill the guy. It was the truth. Todd didn't hurt you. Sure, he pushed you right after you pushed him, but aside from the scrape against your shoulder and that sharp stinging pain, you were fine. It could've been much worse.

Austin sighs, running hands down his face. "Why did I have to leave you by yourself?!" He yells.

You rush over to him, shooting apologetic looks to strangers who look over at the sudden outburst. You hold Austin's arms, standing on your tip-toes so that your forehead is against his.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay." You whisper gently, trying to repeat those two words as many times as you can to get it into his brain. Austin closes his eyes, now reaching for the sides of your face as you continue whispering those reasurring words, that you're okay right where you are in the safety of his arms.

____________

You actually end up sitting on the couch watching a movie after all, as the excitement of the day makes you no longer tired. You decide to at least take advantage of being wired and choose to treat yourself to a movie that doesn't make you think about anything you're not supposed to. It's one of your comfort movies, and usually you and Austin would snuggle and try throwing popcorn in the air and catching it, laughing over how bad you both were, but Austin isn't really in the mood. He's been off, quiet in the car ride, and when not quiet you wished he was, because all he can express is the guilt of not being there.

You don't want to think about it, and so when Austin suddenly gets up from the couch, you look at him, touching his arm.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"Just grabbing water." Austin mutters, not looking at you. "You want me to bring you one?" He asks, throwing one look over his shoulder.

He should be as relaxed as he looks, in a baggy white t-shirt over soft orange sweatpants. Yet he's on edge, not relaxed at all, and it makes you have to try extra hard to get him to better spirits.

You give a faint smile. "I'm okay."

Austin stares at you. "Sure?"

You nod. "Yes."

"Alright, but if you need anything, just ask. I promise, I'm gonna take care of you. I promise." He says.

You nod. "Thank you." You say in a quiet voice and Austin starts to walk away.

"Austin?" You suddenly call, causing him to stop mid-walk and he turns around and looks at you.

"Yes?"

You sigh, looking into his distant eyes. "Smile." You tell him.

Austin smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. You shake your head.

"Better than that." You say.

Austin then squeezes his eyes shut, giving a toothy grin like a little kid's and you laugh, which eventually causes him to laugh as well. He shakes his head, calling you the strangest person he's ever known before he walks into the kitchen. You turn back to the screen with a faint smile on your face. Austin loves you, it's easy to see. You're grateful he's Austin and not Todd.

Todd....

You don't want to go there in the slightest, but your minds starts to land on Todd. The aftermath of seeing him after so long, makes you sit in discomfort and physical pain. How could he do that do you? How could it still be wanting to push himself towards you after everything? Didn't he have who he left you for? Why was he going to you now in such a needy and thirsting way that sent nerves down every fiber of your body?

Piles of thoughts, out of your control, manage to creep into your mind. Regrets, twists of guilt, underlying shame. You weren't strong enough to let him leave you the first time, there was always something that he saw in you that made him want to come back, trying to fill your thoughts with questions of worth and esteem.

Were you acting too good enough for him? Are you acting good enough for Austin?

You shudder, hugging yourself from the sudden cold that flows through your body. You close your eyes shut. Instant replays of what just happened as well as flashbacks of you and Todd when you first started dating go back and forth in your mind.

How could someone who once was so sweet turn into someone who's now so evil? Did you make him this way, because you simply didn't want to sleep with him? Did you create this body-thirsting monster who wanted you, pressing his body against yours against the wall, stepping so much into your space up to the point where all you smelled was the alcohol on his breath? Was this all, this deconstruction of a civil man, all cause of you?

You shake your head, trying your hardest not to cry, but suddenly like a dam that bursts, you start crying heavily into your hands, dropping the plastic bowl of popcorn on your lap, not caring what contents spill out of it.

"This is all my fault!" You wail, sobbing, and now even crying again when you hear your name being called from the kitchen. You hate that you're crying because now Austin rushes over, kneeling down in front of you.

"What's wrong?" He asks, gently, holding your arms.

"I...I can't. Can you hold me please?" You shake your head, sniffling, just as Austin brings you to him, holding you in his loving arms.

You give in of course, crashing everything down in almost a delayed reaction. You're crying because of everything now. You're crying out of fear, out of confusion, out of anger, out of guilt, out of relief..it's all a mixture of emotions poured into your boyfriend's arms.

Austin gently sways you, kissing the side of your head. He lets you cry, doesn't further ask what's wrong, but instead encourages you to let everything out, no matter how long it takes. He's here and not leaving. This is every assurance you have, right here in this moment, that Austin is not leaving.

And with caring whispers, he repeats the same two words you've said to him, only this time letting you know.

"You're okay. You're okay. You're okay."

[quitealotofsodapop]

Gods help Macaque when Jade-Face learns how risky the pregnancy Wukong was going through actually was. If he thought she was mad the first time around, she was twice as pissed off at her surrogate son/protégé when she learned that most Stone Monkeys do not survive childbirth and that its very possible the only reason Wukong is even remotely as healthy as he is was due to the fact he was quite literally immortal and a group of mortals his successor is family with just so happened to find and adopt him into their pack "just in time!"

The furious Nine-tailed vixen momma.

I understand from another ask you meant Jiuweihuli aka Nine-Tailed vixen.

But yeah, her and Jade-Face are like the lethal duo of a pissed-off mom and auntie ready to kick Macaque's butt for his recklessness. The two force Mac to sit his butt down and roast him verbally for hours over tea. After the Shadow Play incident, Mac just knew his adoptive mother/mentor was on the otherside of the stage door ready to yell at him for; "Messing with those nice noodle people!" and left himself open to attack from a certain demon.

Mayor: "Bravo! Bravo! What a perform-" Macaque, not even paying attention: "Thank the buddha, get me out of here. Sneak me out the fire exit or something. Anything's better than facing her right now." *(later getting interrogated/threatened by LBD)* Macaque: "Ugh... hard to decide what woman I'm more afraid of."

And since his disappearance left behind a bunch of dark magic with the Bone Spirit's signature on it - the rest of the theatre staff immediately freak out and peace together that the Vixen's protege has been kidnapped. The Monkie Kid gang get a screaming, worried phone call from the theatre house about Macaque going missing - MK doesn't think much of it since he barely tolerates his not-mentor - but they get very concerned when the words "bone spirit" pop up.

Jiuweihuli: "It's terrible. I know he's been acting like a bum lately, but the last time he dropped off the face of the earth like that he died." MK, very tired but concerned: "Wait. Died? And you say there was Bone Spirit magic left behind?" Jiuweihuli: "Yes. Biggest culpurit I can think of is that boney b-word who was bumping around earth for a while calling herself the Ivory Lady. I performed for her Emperor whats-his-name a few times." MK: "Monkey King says a Lady Bone Demon was the one who threatened him during New Years." Jiuweihuli: "Small world. Whats the King up to now? Taking plenty of rest?" MK: "Actually him, DBK, and Red Son are running across Heaven, Hell, and the Underworld right now looking for clues on what the Lady Bone Demon is planning." Jiuweihuli, after a long silence: "...He's doing what now!?"

The Vixen decides in that moment that this family hasn't a braincell to rub together, and orders her twins to try and keep an eye on where ever Macaque shows up. She also calls up her niece Bo (the demon accountant) in the Celestial Realm since she works as an assistant to Lao Tzu.

Bo, on the phone: "Hmm, no sign in the palace auntie but- oh no wait... some Asura just got their bums handed to them. Yeah, there's food flying everywhere. Yeah I see the King flying around out there, he looks fine but he just ate a dumpling bigger than he is. I'll keep you posted auntie."

Jiuweihuli is a nosy fox and she will find out where her idiot understudy and his boyfriend have run off to. And when Bo gets back to her in a hurry with the knowledge (from skimming Lao Tzu's research) that Wukong is pregnant with a Stone Egg that typically kills the parent... Macaque better wish he only dies if he fails LBD.

Mac seeing the Jin and Yin following him during S3 like:

[pallisia]

Perhaps a bit intrusive question, so please just delete it if answering it makes you uncomfortable, but: after literally spending over a decade being a person who's popular on the Internet, how did you manage to not go insane/delete all your accounts and disappear off the face of the Earth?

you've made a very charitable assumption about my sanity level.

just kidding. i dunno. i'm very fortunate to have people who care about what i do. at the end of the day, i want to make stories and characters that people care about, and posting my stuff online is the most direct avenue i have.

i don't mean to misrepresent the usual responses i get online, which are generally positive, and which i'm grateful for. but yeah, people have said and done some pretty wack shit to me over the years. i was a good deal less mature a decade ago, so i wasn't really prepared to deal with the worst that social media has to offer. i'll admit that i came close to calling it quits.

i guess what changed is that i...got old? i've said this in the past, but i just have less patience for parasocial behavior now. i'd like to think i've gotten more uncompromising as a creator too, but we'll see.