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#also in a place with eating where this all sounds kind of nauseating but i need to use the garlic that i accidentally peeled too far
phantaasmic · 11 months
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what does one do with a pound of garlic
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starsofmilos · 2 years
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Caring For You (Adrian Chase x reader)
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Request: hiiii could you write adrian chase x gn!reader where he take care of the sick reader?? im totally not rushing you, u can start whenever you want! have a nice day/night!
AHH SUCH A CUTE IDEA! I LOVE THIS!
Masterlist
Warnings: small amount of angst, fluff, mentions of illness, mentions of sex
You thought it was a simple sore throat. 
Maybe you just slept with your mouth opened causing it to be dry. That’s all it was. It’s at least what you were trying to convince yourself.
That was until you felt your head start hurting and your nose slowly become congested.
By three o’clock in the afternoon, you were ready to conk out and take some tylenol. Your throat also got worser. It hurt to swallow and the idea of even eating made you nauseated. 
You were sick. 
A cold as your manager called it. He sent you home giving you the rest of the week to recover. Walking into your home, you immediately stalked to the restroom grabbing some medicine.
“Y/N? Is that you?” Adrian’s voice rang out causing you to jump. 
“Yeah! I thought you were at work?” Wincing a bit as you tried to hide the sound of your congestion. 
Adrian raised an eyebrow at your tone heading to the restroom, “I did I came out early though. Was gonna go on patrol soon..”
His voice trailed off once he saw the state you were in. Your hair messed up, pale face, and shaky hands.
“Y/N...Are you okay?”
You smiled reassuringly, “Oh yeah don’t worry! I’m fine Adrian just a little-”
You cut off bursting into a coughing fit hiding your face. Adrian patted your back steadying you. “Honey you’re sick.”
“No! No! Just a bit tired that’s all-” Adrian’s gasp cut you off once he placed his hand on your forehead.
“You’re burning up! We need to get you into bed right this instant!” You shook your head at his words trying to resist. 
“No! Adrian I swear I’m fine! Just a small cough and sore throat!”
“Yeah nope. We’re getting you into bed and some medicine.”
“I just took some..”
“Good! Now here get settled in bed and I’m gonna make you some tea.” You sighed as he kissed your forehead.
“But you have patrol and I don’t want you missing out because of me-”
“Y/N my lovely girlfriend is sick. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left?” He scoffed in disbelief running to your kitchen. Tossing and turning, you struggled to get comfortable.
It was too hot and cold all at once. Adrian returned helping you up to drink the warm tea. It felt nice and soothing.
“My poor girl all sick. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I thought I just had a dry throat and the more the day went on I just felt more like crap and then at work I got dizzy so my boss sent me home-”
“Wait why didn’t you call me if you were dizzy at work?!”
“I didn’t wanna worry you and besides I made it home didn’t I?”
Adrian glared at you shaking his head, “You are my girlfriend. You are allowed and I deserve to know when things like this happen.”
“It’s just a cold-”
“A cold now, but what if it was something worser? I’m saying this cause I care. I love you Y/N so I want you to tell me all of this. You’re not a burden.”
“Sorry Adrian..”
Adrian hummed kissing you softly. You pushed him away shaking your head. “You’ll get sick.”
“I can’t get sick babe. Besides I know you want my kisses.”
“I do! But I don’t want you sick Adrian!” You coughed a bit as he laughed shaking his head.
“I promise I won’t. Now I’m gonna make you some soup and we’re gonna lay here and binge watch your favorite movies.”
“Princess Bride?”
“Yes we’ll watch the princess bride.” You grabbed his hand stopping him from going.
“Wait! Can I have cuddles right now instead? I’m not too hungry.”
“That depends have you eaten today?” You stood quiet giving him a sheepish look. 
“Adrian look-”
“No! Y/N! You gotta have something in your system so let me make some soup and then you can have all the cuddles you want.” 
Adrian kissed you once more heading to the kitchen. You sighed shutting your eyes for a small moment only to fall asleep.
He returned ten minutes later holding a small bowl smiling a bit as you slept peacefully. “Should’ve just let you slept..I can reheat it later.”
Adrian slid in next to you pulling you to his chest sighing as you shook a bit. “Sorry..I fell asleep..” Your hoarse voice whispered out.
“No..don’t apologize you need all the rest you can get.”
“Yeah..you should get going on patrol soon.I promise I’ll be fine-”
“No.”
You whined against him, “You need too though-”
“And you need to be taken care of and trust me I’d rather be here than out there.” He ran his hand through your head laughing as you stared up at him. 
“I promise one night without patrol won’t hurt and you always take care of me Y/N. Let me take care of you.”
“Fine..I won’t fight you...”
“Good I promise I’ll win if you try. Now that you’re awake, sit up.” You nodded letting him prop you up.
“Now open wide..Soup is still hot.” You gave him a small pointed look but opened your mouth nonetheless. “It’s campbells chicken noodle..I can’t cook homemade soup.”
“It’s good..I like it. Thank you Adrian.”
Adrian grinned feeding you the whole bowl chuckling a bit as some spilled on your shirt. “Such a messy sicky..”
“Shut up.” You grumbled smiling as he helped you up changing you. “I’m not completely useless you know.”
“I know. I just wanna take care of you. Now come on lay down again.” He changed into his own pajamas pulling you to cuddle up beside him.
“Can we please watch-”
“I’m already putting it on.” He lowered the volume a bit giving you a head massage as you watched the movie.
“i love you. Thank you for taking care of me..”
“I’ll always look out for you and take care of you. I love taking care of you. I just wish you wouldn’t fight me on it sometimes.”
“I’ll try to stop..” Adrian shook his head.
“Now we both know that’s a lie, but that’s okay. I love a challenge.” Adrian whispered to you kissing your forehead. You sneezed whimpering a bit.
“I’ll get you more medicine soon.” 
“Thank you..” You cuddled into his chest shutting your eyes again. Adrian rubbed your back humming a small tune.
“Get some sleep. We’ll get you better in no time.” 
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(John) Doe Eyed Ch2 Doe Eyed
(This will be heavily based on and references the 'YOU LIVED Doe Eyed' ending from the game House Hunted by Mortisfox. Art and OC by me.)
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"Ugh...What a long ride, but I'm glad I'm finally here."
The first step off the bus and right into Sinister City. This was it. The first day of the rest of her life. The air was immediately filled with the sounds of other people talking, vehicles, and the reve of engines and car horns with the distant sounds of footsteps as people walked around her im front of the bus stop. Ah. It was good to stretch out her numb legs and sore back. She looked around her surroundings. Tall buildings and streets or sidewalks and shops and cars of all kinds with tons of people walking around. Definitely the smaller parts of a city. She coughed though smelling the nauseating scent of oil and exhaust from the bus behind her as the doors slowly closed and with a wheeze, the vehicle slowly pulled away from the bus stop. She coughed and waved a hand to blow away the smoke and shook her head. Well there's obviously not much to look at at the Grayhorse bus station. 
"I'm sure the inner city's more beautiful." At least according to the brochure Rose had sent her along with the map. Besides she should be getting to her new apartment. The sun wouldn't stay in the sky all day. Now where did she put that map? "I hope the apartment company was honest about having my apartment ready to live in. I'm so tired I could be a corpse." 
Now where was that map? AHA! Said gigantic map was pulled from a side pocket on her backpack and carefully unfolded to avoid tearing. Soon it was displayed in both hands stretched out nearly a yard in length printed right on it was the entirety of the Uncanny Valley. Hoo boy. It was..a lot bigger than you thought but luckily for her the map simplified the area she was in and even listed the name of the street she stood on... granted it was little and took her ten minutes of squinting to find it but she knew where she was! Pink eyes narrowed at the lines connecting to the Streets she was on before looking around at the buildings around her again stopping at just a small cafe across the street. A waitress was outside delivering a coffee mug to a happy looking man and she nearly crumpled the map. She hadn't eaten anything for a while. The plane made her too nervous to eat on the flight over and there obviously wasn't any food venders on the bus. Maybe she should grab something to eat?...Then again she promised Rose she'd go straight to her apartment once she arrived, and she was pretty tired from the lack of sleep and the stressful trip here. It might just be better to get home and just sleep in for the rest of the day.
"Then again...I do kinda wanna see the city. It might be better to look around first in case I get lost or something." Pink eyes looked up and squinted at the giant blue sky. A few fluffy clouds rolled across it but nothing suggested bad weather and the sun wasn't too far along the sky. "...I should have enough time if I'm quick, and it'd be better to get a lay out of the place." 
Plus she had a map! And a phone! So it wasn't as if she was helpless. She also could ask someone for directions! She should be perfectly fine! With a smile she half folded up the map and placed it in one hand. One other hand on her backpack straps, and off she started walking down the street with a smile on her face. The buzz of the city was present with each step her legs walked and different smells wafted with the different buildings. A cigar a man was smoking, food inviting people to walk into the different restaurants or step up to the few food stands on the street she saw, diesel from a passing car, flowers from a flowering bush she passed by- In a way all of the sounds and smells was comforting to the senses. Perhaps it was the fresh feeling she had being in a new place? Or the weight of the past being pushed to the back burner now? Either way the calming feeling was amazing. It made a smile spread on her face and a light step in her walk. Her eyes took in all of the new sights but every so often made sure to check the map to be sure of her location.
She was new not stupid.
However she was surprised when she somehow ended up looking up higher and stopped. Wait a second...This wasn't the right way. 
Gone was the smell of food random buildings and shops. In their places was tall sky scrapers towering high in the air with a few casting some large shadows on the ground and across the base of other buildings. The sight caused her to pause and blink around at the sidewalk she stood on. The building wasn't the only thing that changed around her. The people that walked the streets did too. The wide and colorful variety of people in different clothes was gone and replaced by the sameness of men and women in professional looking tuxes and suits. Most carried briefcases or papers and she saw one or two on a phone looking to be having a very serious conversation of some kind. Most everyone had the same expressions on their faces being serious or calm looking...Other than one tall man in a nice looking blue suit whom seemed to have a somewhat upset look on his face. However she didn't dwell on it too long and shook her head and looked back down. The map unfurling again in her hands. Where was she right now? Judging by everyone's looks this seemed like a business district of some kind but Rose didn't mention anything like that on her way to the apartment.
"This can't be right," a mumble escaped her throat. Pink eyes scanned the map in search of where she could possibly be. She couldn't possibly be lost right? It's only been an hour or two at most!
Was she on this street?...Or maybe this street here? The name of the street there sounds business-y ish. Pink eyes continued to scan the map in her hands, until something dark passed over the map. A cloud passing over the sun and blocking out the light. Or..it would've been that..If she didn't suddenly get a shiver down her back and felt like eyes were suddenly on her. Pink eyes turned up-
"OH!"
A loud gasp and yell left her throat as she instinctively lea back a few feet, the map pulled to her chest and her eyes coming face to face with a man. A man in a red suit coat. ...She blinked. Before shaking her head and looking at him again. The man was definitely an older gentleman if the grey hair was anything to go by. He was much taller too. Six foot pushing maybe even seven feet! He had literally bent at the hips to stare at her nearly eye level. Was he looking over her shoulder?! The thought made her grimace. But what was the most... strange was the expression he had on his face. A large toothy grin smiled at her widely and small black eyes bore into her own.
"...oh.. I'm sorry. You startled me," her slowly said lowering her arms and raising a brow looking him over. He certainly looked different from all the other people around you both. He wore a bright red coat with some kind of pink near the breast pocket, black pants and turtleneck underneath, and ... were those..heels? Her eyes darted back to his face as to not be rude, and she curled back a little more seeing he hadn't moved. "Am I...In your way, Sir?"
"On the contrary!," He spoke in such a cheery tone it made her jump a bit. His hands, which were previously behind his back, reached out to straighten himself and push back the hair in his face as he straightened to his full height and she just now noticed how much taller he actually was. "You're new in town. Lost and wondering. You need a place to call your own." 
He sounded rather... smooth and confident. Like he gave this line over and over again. It caused her to raise a brow to which he chuckled at. Who was this guy?
"Allow me to introduce myself." One hand returned to his back while another reached for the breast pocket by the pin on his coat. She flinched as all of a sudden his hand was thrusted into her face. "I'm Maison Talo, the number one REALTOR in all of the Uncanny Valley. I can help you find your dream home today! My card."
...She blinked slowly realizing the object in his hand was a business card. A brow rose looking between his face and the card before a hand of hers slowly took it from him and his hand retreated. A...realtor? OH! Yes. That makes sense. She supposed that a person like a realtor would be in a place that looked like they were nothing but corporate businesses. A glance at the card confirmed that. On it was labeled with his name and a series of numbers underneath. A phone number no doubt.
"Give me a call and we can get you set up in a new house. Today guaranteed!"
"Oh...Thank you?" She looked back to him. "But I think you're barking up the wrong tree here." She looked at him and held the card back out. "I already have an apartment lined up so I don't need a house. No offense."
For a moment it seemed like his smile strained a bit before straightening out and chuckled. "Hehehe. It's quite alright." His hand pushed hers lightly away. "Keep it. I'm sure you'll be giving me a call. I'm the number one REALTOR in Uncanny Valley after all." Both hands returned behind his back. "I've never had a disappointed buyer. You'll love the house I picked out just for YOU!"
She... slowly nodded. "Thanks. I guess. Hey. Could you maybe point out where I am here?" The card forgotten now, the map was turned around and held up at the much taller blinking man. "I'd appreciate it if I knew where here was."
The man, Maison she guessed, blinked a moment before smiling wider. "But of course! I pride myself on excellent customer service even to only potential buyers." His eyes glanced down to the map. "I believe you would find yourself to be right here." A single red nailed finger reached out and poked at one spot.
The map was turned back around. She looked. And she smiled. Hey. That wasn't too far from the address she was looking for! "That's great help! Thanks! Although..I probably won't be calling you."
"Oh we'll see. I'll be waiting." 
Then he just casually stepped aside from her and just started walking away. Pink eyes blinked at just how fast he walked away from her and in heels no less,  but she shrugged it off. At least she knew where she was now. Huh. But now the crowd had thinned out a bit too. Guess that was her signal to move on too. But first her bearings. It took just a few minutes for her to follow the streets and trace it to where she needed to go. THERE! That's where her building should be! It was only a few streets away. If she hurried then she'd be able to get there before noon even. Smiling the map was closed and the woman started walking.
A few streets later and she had finally found it. Her apartment building. The tall tan building was a few stories high and and had a large patch of grassy land in front of it. This must've been a more suburban part of the city because mostly houses, shops, and other establishments were around here.  It was nice. That just meant plenty of job opportunities! This was looking better and better by the second! A warm feeling of happiness was in her chest at the much needed change in her life. The first start of everything. She just had to find her apartment number which wasn't hard. Apartment one on floor one. Kinda simplified but it worked for her. The moving company mentioned her door would be left unlocked and a key would be delivered first thing the next morning so she should be all good to just walk on in. The woman walked right inside the front door and looked around her. There was a flight of stairs to the left, a hallway of doors in front of her, and at the very end of said hallway was the doors of an elevator presumably leading to the upper floors of the building. Finding her own door wasn't hard. It was the first door in the hall with the number one placed on the wall next to the door. This is it. Her new home. With a smile of excitement she instantly reached a hand out to grab the handle and turned.
.. Only to find it locked??
She blinked. The door handle was turned a few more times. It didn't budge. Only making clicking noises in resistance to her efforts and not opening at all. It was locked.
"What the-...HEY!" The map was dropped and left to flutter to the floor as now two hands wrapped around the knob and more force was applied to try and force it open. "What gives? This isn't funny." Using her shoulder, she rammed her body into the doors hard surface in a failed attempt to get it opened. "Open up!" When turning the handle and ramming into the door didn't work, she switched to just pounding a fist furiously on it as if someone was in there. "Open the door! I'm supposed to be here!" 
"HEY!" The pounding stopped and she looked up at an angry man glaring at her from another door. He must've stuck his head out hearing the commotion. "Knock off the noise! Some people enjoy the peace and quiet!"
"Oops...S-Sorry."
 The door was slammed back closed with an angry snort from the man making her since. Not a good start to her neighbors. But..there has to be a mistake! She was SURE This was the right building and the right apartment! So why wasn't it open?! We're the movers playing a sick joke on her. What now?! She needed to get inside or else she'd be sleeping on the streets! Or in the hallway! A worried hand shoved through pale hair worriedly. That wouldn't be a good idea. She didn't know the area yet! ....She better call that housing company! Hands quickly fumbled about for the phone in her pocket nearly dropping it. What was that number again?! Numbers were dialed and rings were given as she held it to her ear. Come on come on. Pick up! To her relief there was an answer!
"Hello. Uncanny Valley Apartment Hunters. How can we be of service today?," A woman's voice asked. An animalistic screech sounded out next which made her pull her head back.
She blinked. .. Must've had a pet parrot or something. "Uh..Yeah! I'm supposed to move in literally today and I'm locked out of my own house! I don't have a key or anything so what am I supposed to do?"
"May I have your name please?" 
"Fae Briar. I paid for everything a month in advance so I should be inside unless I'm at the wrong apartment."
Paper shuffling was heard and..was that a..blender?? Nah. Must've been a paper shredder. "Oh yes! Ms. Briar. We had a little issue with your apartment and it won't be ready until tomorrow. Our apologies."
"What?!" She felt like she'd been slapped across the face. "What are you talking about? What issues?!"
Some typewriting sounds followed by a loud annoyed sigh. "We've been having some issues.''
"Yeah? What issues?!"
"You're apartment will be ready tomorrow. Will there be anything else, Ms. Briar?"
Her teeth grinded together in annoyance and the grip on her phone grew. "No. Just ...Tell me when my dumb apartments ready."
"Of course. Have a nice day."
They hung up on her. And she stood there for a long moment staring blankly at the door. Before growling and grabbing her head as she let out a yell of frustration. GREAT! JUST GREAT!! She just got here and she can't even get into her own apartment she paid for DAYS ago!! What now?! She didn't have enough money for a hotel! She was lucky enough to be able to have enough money for the plane and bus ticket just to get here!! Her hands again fumbled with the phone in a desperate attempt to call possibly the only other person here who might help. However after twenty minutes of just standing there and calling Rose with no answers she gave up. It'd be better to save the phone battery just in case she needed it.
"This is just great! Just my luck this would happen!," She shouted in frustration. She felt like kicking or throwing something but she wouldn't resort to that. Instead she leaned defeated on the door and just.. flopped her arms uselessly to her sides. "Great. Just great. Now what am I supposed to do?"
There wasn't enough money leftover for a hotel, she was locked out of her apartment, and Rose wasn't answering her cell. There wasn't any choice but to hunker down here and camp outside her apartment until tomorrow came. ..her eyes wondered back to her map. Maybe there was a shelter or something else nearby she could stay at for the night? She bent down to pick up the map however noticed something else along with it. A small business card with- Oh. Mr. Talos business card. Forgot about that. Not like it'd be helpful anyways.
"Yeah right. I was lucky enough to afford this apartment. No way I can buy a house." Discarding the card once more the map was picked back up and opened as she annoyingly stared at it once more. "Right. Hotel it is then. I can get Rose to help me pay it off later."
So once again she set off only this time more annoyed than usual. And not noticing the watchful eyes following her. Down the streets she walked to no place in particular and looking between the buildings and map the entire time making sure to not get lost again. Soon she came upon what she thought was must've been the heart of the city. There should be hotels here right?
"Ok. Hotel. Hotel" her pink eyes looked around as she stopped. "Downtown areas usually have hotels right?"
Not seeing any forms of hotels, she looked back to the map in worry. At this rate she'd never be able to get settled in. Some great first impressions. She didn't notice the much taller figure approaching, until she felt something looming over her. She paused, looked up, and then squealed seeing Brady eyes and a too wide grin staring right back at her. Causing her to jump away.
"Lost? Lovely? You didn't call me, Ms. Briar."
She blinked. "Mr. Talo?" What the-...Where the heck did he come from?! She looked around before back to the tall man still smiling too widely at her. A shiver going down her spine. You weren't near where you last left him. "We're you following me?!"
"How silly." He waved her off. "No no. Dear buyer. I'm simply that good. Number one REALTOR in Uncanny Valley after all. I'm very sure you remember this. Right, Ms. Briar?"
"...How do you know my name?" Pink eyes widened as that fact set in. She never told him her name! How would he know that?!
"You clearly need a place to go and I have the PERFECT HOUSE just waiting for you to be inside it," he continued on not even answering her question. 
"Listen. I'm just looking for a hotel. Y'know...HOTEL." Fae gave a frown that almost could be a scowl at this point. This guy gave her the creeps. Who even was he?! She never told him her name and now he was suspected to follow her? "I can't even afford a house alright? I spent the last of my money getting here and I'm petty tired. So thank you but no. I just want to get a hotel for the night." She stressed out to him. Hopefully he got the hint 
He slowly frowned with a hum. "Hmm. A hotel." He seemed to be struggling with what she told him. Something was even creepier when he frowned then when he smiled which was shocking. Before he smiled again. "Oh. Oh my dear pooy buyer. You are so confused and lost I see."
Her mouth dropped open. "....Did you not hear what I just said? Even if I did agree to buy a house from you, I wouldn't have ANY money to buy it with! I might as well be trying to cook without a stove or any frying pans! Why would I agree to anything you're offering?"
"Listen. Just come with me and look at this lovely three bedroom home. If you don't absolutely fall in love with it, I'll personally pay for your hotel stay while I search for a house that suits your... personal needs."
She didn't like how his last sentence was almost a purr. But...If he was being serious about the hotel what did she have to lose? It wasn't like she could afford a hotel by herself anyways, and it might just get him off Fae's back. She could just humor him for an hour and tell him no once he's done showing her around. 
She sighed. "Alright. I will look at the house but-" she pointed a firm hand right at his face sternly. "-you better stop invading my personal space pal. Seriously. It's creepy."
"Perfect. Perfect." He said happily not even giving an indication to anything else she said. "I can assure you that you'll love this two garage domcile that's just STARVING to meet you!"
She was about to comment on his choice of words when she was abruptly cut off by the sensation of a long boney hand wrapping around her forearm, almost dragging her along as he quickly walked to gods knows where. She gasped at the grab and nearly fell over from stumbling to catch up with his quick pace. Maybe she made a mistake. Buildings and people passed by as they both walked like that. It felt like they had been walking for an hour in awkward silence, struggling to keep up with Maison's long and fast strides, when he stopped abruptly letting her go at the same time. She ended up colliding with his back before stumbling back a few steps, shaking her head, and looking back up at him in question. He didn't even flinch at that. 
"We're here!," He announced and tilted his head in expectation. "What do you think?"
She blinked looking around. Most of the big buildings were gone and replaced by just plain suburban homes and lawns. The house in question was in front of her and looked...just like a plain house? It looked to be a story tall, the standard size of a one floor home, with a garage, driveway, and cut grassy lawn. A 'For Sale' sign was mounted clear as day right smack dab in the front lawn close to the sidewalk. 
"....Oh. it's.. certainly a house?"
"Oh. Do you see something you like after all? I'm not surprised. After all this house is in VERY good condition." He sounded very proud of himself. 
"Um. It looks..Very nice." She complimented politely before looking at him. "But you don't seriously think I can afford this place right? This place looks way too expensive for me."
"Hehe. Quite the flatterer I see. I assure you the price is very reasonable and I'm willing to haggle greatly. The...'seller' is simply looking to sell fast."
Something felt off. Narrowing her eyes, she looked back to the nice looking house. Something had to be up. It was sounding more and more fishy like a scam by the second. There was no way she could be able to afford this no matter how much he haggled. There had to be a big catch. 
"Ok. What's the catch?" 
"Catch?"
Her arms crossed at this point as she deadpanned looked at him. "The house is haunted isn't it? Or was someone murdered in there?" She noticed his smile seemed to strain again after she asked that second question. Interesting. "Or is the owner some kind of criminal? There's no way it's this good unless it's a scam or something's wrong with the house. So which is it, Mr. Talo?"
".....Of course not. Nothing like that happened."
Ok. The pause was totally suspicious. A realtor was supposed to disclose that info to customers right? But this guy was shady and creeped her out from the get go. Something was definitely up here. 
"Simply come inside and look around.  No strings attached. You'll LOVE the insides.  You won't be able to walk away from a deal like this, Dear Buyer." 
Fae stood there unmoving looking slowly between Mr. Talos smiling face and the house. Something definitely wasn't right. The house looked plain but something was...off about it too. She just.. couldn't quite place it. The thoughts of Fae alone with no one but Mr. Talo too also seemed to put her on edge. The man was...too peculiar. It waved a few red flags in the air and she clearly saw them. But...She couldn't really afford that hotel either. Where was she supposed to stay? She didn't really have much of a cho-
"MAISON!!"
She flinched snapping out of her thoughts. What?
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU ALL DAY!"
A loud woman's voice called out somewhere behind Mr. Talo clearly angry. The man blinked for a moment before looking over his shoulder and seeming to both perk up and look slightly worried. 
"Ah. My dear provider!" He fully turned around with his back to Fae to now face whomever was yelling at him. "How are you doing this fine day? I've been doing rather well myself! Almost sold to a potential buyer-"
"Don't try to change the subject." Footsteps approached and a figure stopped in front of the taller man. "I tried calling you and walked around the city all day. You know we were supposed to talk about your 'selling strategies' this morning. I knew I should've just followed your lure but unfortunately work took up a few hours of my time."
"Ah. My apologies. You see I was a little preoccupied with a few 'possible sales' and wanted to keep the line open. I hope you can forgive me, my dear." 
This was...awkward. But perhaps now would be a good time to skip away without him noticing. But..why did that new voice sound so familiar? She slowly stepped sideways to look around Maison and froze on the spot when the new figure was revealed.
"You knew I wanted to talk to you this morning! You slipped away from me on purpose again. You know I hate it when you do that!" A red headed woman with blue eyes stood there scowling up at the man. "Are you trying to get me in trouble with the Mayor? He's already on my case about you hanging around the bus stops again when that's off limits to REALTORS." She looked over at Fae. "What's he going to do....if..."
She froze seeing Fae. Fae stared right back silently. Maison blinked confused at the redheads silence suddenly before raising a brow and followed her gaze back to Fae. Curious he continued to look between the two women as the silence continued on.
"Fae?!"
"ROSE?!"
"What are you doing here?!" The woman, her cousin, asked. Suddenly shocked that to see her standing there. "You're supposed to be at your apartment!!"
"I WAS!" Her arms were thrown up in defeat. "But then I got locked out and the stupid company won't let me in until tomorrow morning! What are YOU doing here?! I've been trying to call you!"
"I live here. You're locked out?! Who did that?"
"I dunno! The movers I guess! I can't get in and I couldn't reach you!" She then threw a hand in the man's direction. "And this guy has been trailing me all day trying to sell me a house no matter how many times I say no!"
Again there was silence before her cousin instantly scowled and slowly looked up at the man who instantly strained his smile wider. "Oh. ..So the dear buyer knows you?"
"She's my COUSIN, Maison!," Rose said with a deep scowl, "The one that I had told you was coming soon!"
If possible Mr. Talo looked like he suddenly wanted to disappear as he chuckled nervously. "Oh my. ..What a small world."
"Maison." A voice that sounded threatening with a growl escaped from Rose as she pointed to the house he had previously insisted on selling Fae. "Home! NOW! I'm going to have a VERY serious talk with you later!"
"A haha .. It's not what you think, Dear."
"I. Don't. CARE. You REALLY crossed a line this time!"
The two were arguing so loudly she almost didn't hear the rings of her phone. It startled her and stopped the other two into watching as she fumbled about to grab her ringing phone and hold it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Fae Briar?"
"Yes. Who's this?"
"I'm calling from the Uncanny Valley Housing Office. We solved that little issue we were having, so if you'd like to go ahead and go into the apartment it should be all ready for you!"
Pink eyes widened. "Wait. Really?! That's perfect!" She smiled widely. 
"We apologize for any delays. We look forward to your business and remember! Uncanny Valley Apartment Company is dedicated to finding the perfect home for you! Our REALTOR free guarantee since nineteen ninety two!"
She rolled her eyes at the cheesy catch phrase before simply hanging up and smiling wider. "That was the housing company!" She smiled back to Rose. "I can go back to my apartment right now!"
Rose blinked before nodding with a sigh. "That's good. You should go straight there then and then tomorrow morning I can help you unpack and get settled in. Do you need a ride back there?"
Fae held up the map as her answer. "I can just use this to get back. It's really not that big of a deal." 
Rose slowly nodded before narrowing her eye back to the still nervous looking man. "Ok. But I suggest you go straight back now. It's almost dark. I need to have a talk with Mr. Talo here about sales." Mr. Maison looked uncomfortable now.
Oh well. Not her problem anymore! She had a home now. "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow, Rose. Good night."
Without another word to Maison, she started stepping out towards the direction back towards her apartment building. It felt like hours before she finally made her way back through the city. The sun looked like it was just about to set within an hour.  She was just happy she could go home and rest her weary head and get off her sore feet. Following the map she made sure to keep on course with her route recognizing some of the places that Maison dragged her past. Alright then. Shouldn't be long now. Crossing a street, she looked at the route she intended to take. Passing her by was a random man- Her leg collided with another's and she stumbled a step. However the person who she accidentally tripped over stumbled a few more steps before stopping.
"Crap!" Pink eyes blinked over to the man whom blinked back to her. He was dressed mostly in black clothes and had unkempt long black hair cascading around his shoulders and down his back. "Sorry!" She held up a hand. "I must've not been paying attention. You're not hurt are you?" She looked him up and down. He didn't seem harmed. 
His eyes widened..and he slowly shook his head no. She smiled widely at him.
"I'm happy to hear that. Would've felt bad if I accidentally bowled you over or worse, made you get hurt. Sorry again. Have a good day."
With a small wave his way, she didn't give him another thought as she continued walking. Already her mind had forgotten about him in favor of getting home to the promise of the bed. The man stared at her watching her go...no one had...ever asked him that before. Or had been kind to him other than Ms. Ivy. A smile appeared on his face and pupils beat the symbols of love.
The apartment building was very quiet when she reentered it just as the sun was setting. Her nerves rising up as she made her way to the door. Would it really be open? She hesitated but grabbed it again and turned. There was no resistance and it turned fully allowing the door to swing open surprising her...And she smiled. The home was dimly lit up by the last rays of sunlight shining in through the windows illuminating the inside of the building and what little boxes and furniture was scattered about. It was peaceful and it was hers. 
She entered the apartment swinging the door closed behind her as she just stood there taking in the sights. Finally..Home. A backpack was dropped to the floor with a loud thud and tired footsteps approached the sofa in the middle of the room. She didn't give any other thought as she just threw herself onto the soft cushions. Finally. Peace.
Slowly eyes closed and she allowed sleep to claim her after so long.
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echantedtoon · 10 months
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(John) Doe Eyed Ch2 Doe Eyed
(This will be heavily based on and references the 'YOU LIVED Doe Eyed' ending from the game House Hunted by Mortisfox. Art and OC by me.)
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"Ugh...What a long ride, but I'm glad I'm finally here."
The first step off the bus and right into Sinister City. This was it. The first day of the rest of her life. The air was immediately filled with the sounds of other people talking, vehicles, and the reve of engines and car horns with the distant sounds of footsteps as people walked around her im front of the bus stop. Ah. It was good to stretch out her numb legs and sore back. She looked around her surroundings. Tall buildings and streets or sidewalks and shops and cars of all kinds with tons of people walking around. Definitely the smaller parts of a city. She coughed though smelling the nauseating scent of oil and exhaust from the bus behind her as the doors slowly closed and with a wheeze, the vehicle slowly pulled away from the bus stop. She coughed and waved a hand to blow away the smoke and shook her head. Well there's obviously not much to look at at the Grayhorse bus station. 
"I'm sure the inner city's more beautiful." At least according to the brochure Rose had sent her along with the map. Besides she should be getting to her new apartment. The sun wouldn't stay in the sky all day. Now where did she put that map? "I hope the apartment company was honest about having my apartment ready to live in. I'm so tired I could be a corpse." 
Now where was that map? AHA! Said gigantic map was pulled from a side pocket on her backpack and carefully unfolded to avoid tearing. Soon it was displayed in both hands stretched out nearly a yard in length printed right on it was the entirety of the Uncanny Valley. Hoo boy. It was..a lot bigger than you thought but luckily for her the map simplified the area she was in and even listed the name of the street she stood on... granted it was little and took her ten minutes of squinting to find it but she knew where she was! Pink eyes narrowed at the lines connecting to the Streets she was on before looking around at the buildings around her again stopping at just a small cafe across the street. A waitress was outside delivering a coffee mug to a happy looking man and she nearly crumpled the map. She hadn't eaten anything for a while. The plane made her too nervous to eat on the flight over and there obviously wasn't any food venders on the bus. Maybe she should grab something to eat?...Then again she promised Rose she'd go straight to her apartment once she arrived, and she was pretty tired from the lack of sleep and the stressful trip here. It might just be better to get home and just sleep in for the rest of the day.
"Then again...I do kinda wanna see the city. It might be better to look around first in case I get lost or something." Pink eyes looked up and squinted at the giant blue sky. A few fluffy clouds rolled across it but nothing suggested bad weather and the sun wasn't too far along the sky. "...I should have enough time if I'm quick, and it'd be better to get a lay out of the place." 
Plus she had a map! And a phone! So it wasn't as if she was helpless. She also could ask someone for directions! She should be perfectly fine! With a smile she half folded up the map and placed it in one hand. One other hand on her backpack straps, and off she started walking down the street with a smile on her face. The buzz of the city was present with each step her legs walked and different smells wafted with the different buildings. A cigar a man was smoking, food inviting people to walk into the different restaurants or step up to the few food stands on the street she saw, diesel from a passing car, flowers from a flowering bush she passed by- In a way all of the sounds and smells was comforting to the senses. Perhaps it was the fresh feeling she had being in a new place? Or the weight of the past being pushed to the back burner now? Either way the calming feeling was amazing. It made a smile spread on her face and a light step in her walk. Her eyes took in all of the new sights but every so often made sure to check the map to be sure of her location.
She was new not stupid.
However she was surprised when she somehow ended up looking up higher and stopped. Wait a second...This wasn't the right way. 
Gone was the smell of food random buildings and shops. In their places was tall sky scrapers towering high in the air with a few casting some large shadows on the ground and across the base of other buildings. The sight caused her to pause and blink around at the sidewalk she stood on. The building wasn't the only thing that changed around her. The people that walked the streets did too. The wide and colorful variety of people in different clothes was gone and replaced by the sameness of men and women in professional looking tuxes and suits. Most carried briefcases or papers and she saw one or two on a phone looking to be having a very serious conversation of some kind. Most everyone had the same expressions on their faces being serious or calm looking...Other than one tall man in a nice looking blue suit whom seemed to have a somewhat upset look on his face. However she didn't dwell on it too long and shook her head and looked back down. The map unfurling again in her hands. Where was she right now? Judging by everyone's looks this seemed like a business district of some kind but Rose didn't mention anything like that on her way to the apartment.
"This can't be right," a mumble escaped her throat. Pink eyes scanned the map in search of where she could possibly be. She couldn't possibly be lost right? It's only been an hour or two at most!
Was she on this street?...Or maybe this street here? The name of the street there sounds business-y ish. Pink eyes continued to scan the map in her hands, until something dark passed over the map. A cloud passing over the sun and blocking out the light. Or..it would've been that..If she didn't suddenly get a shiver down her back and felt like eyes were suddenly on her. Pink eyes turned up-
"OH!"
A loud gasp and yell left her throat as she instinctively lea back a few feet, the map pulled to her chest and her eyes coming face to face with a man. A man in a red suit coat. ...She blinked. Before shaking her head and looking at him again. The man was definitely an older gentleman if the grey hair was anything to go by. He was much taller too. Six foot pushing maybe even seven feet! He had literally bent at the hips to stare at her nearly eye level. Was he looking over her shoulder?! The thought made her grimace. But what was the most... strange was the expression he had on his face. A large toothy grin smiled at her widely and small black eyes bore into her own.
"...oh.. I'm sorry. You startled me," her slowly said lowering her arms and raising a brow looking him over. He certainly looked different from all the other people around you both. He wore a bright red coat with some kind of pink near the breast pocket, black pants and turtleneck underneath, and ... were those..heels? Her eyes darted back to his face as to not be rude, and she curled back a little more seeing he hadn't moved. "Am I...In your way, Sir?"
"On the contrary!," He spoke in such a cheery tone it made her jump a bit. His hands, which were previously behind his back, reached out to straighten himself and push back the hair in his face as he straightened to his full height and she just now noticed how much taller he actually was. "You're new in town. Lost and wondering. You need a place to call your own." 
He sounded rather... smooth and confident. Like he gave this line over and over again. It caused her to raise a brow to which he chuckled at. Who was this guy?
"Allow me to introduce myself." One hand returned to his back while another reached for the breast pocket by the pin on his coat. She flinched as all of a sudden his hand was thrusted into her face. "I'm Maison Talo, the number one REALTOR in all of the Uncanny Valley. I can help you find your dream home today! My card."
...She blinked slowly realizing the object in his hand was a business card. A brow rose looking between his face and the card before a hand of hers slowly took it from him and his hand retreated. A...realtor? OH! Yes. That makes sense. She supposed that a person like a realtor would be in a place that looked like they were nothing but corporate businesses. A glance at the card confirmed that. On it was labeled with his name and a series of numbers underneath. A phone number no doubt.
"Give me a call and we can get you set up in a new house. Today guaranteed!"
"Oh...Thank you?" She looked back to him. "But I think you're barking up the wrong tree here." She looked at him and held the card back out. "I already have an apartment lined up so I don't need a house. No offense."
For a moment it seemed like his smile strained a bit before straightening out and chuckled. "Hehehe. It's quite alright." His hand pushed hers lightly away. "Keep it. I'm sure you'll be giving me a call. I'm the number one REALTOR in Uncanny Valley after all." Both hands returned behind his back. "I've never had a disappointed buyer. You'll love the house I picked out just for YOU!"
She... slowly nodded. "Thanks. I guess. Hey. Could you maybe point out where I am here?" The card forgotten now, the map was turned around and held up at the much taller blinking man. "I'd appreciate it if I knew where here was."
The man, Maison she guessed, blinked a moment before smiling wider. "But of course! I pride myself on excellent customer service even to only potential buyers." His eyes glanced down to the map. "I believe you would find yourself to be right here." A single red nailed finger reached out and poked at one spot.
The map was turned back around. She looked. And she smiled. Hey. That wasn't too far from the address she was looking for! "That's great help! Thanks! Although..I probably won't be calling you."
"Oh we'll see. I'll be waiting." 
Then he just casually stepped aside from her and just started walking away. Pink eyes blinked at just how fast he walked away from her and in heels no less,  but she shrugged it off. At least she knew where she was now. Huh. But now the crowd had thinned out a bit too. Guess that was her signal to move on too. But first her bearings. It took just a few minutes for her to follow the streets and trace it to where she needed to go. THERE! That's where her building should be! It was only a few streets away. If she hurried then she'd be able to get there before noon even. Smiling the map was closed and the woman started walking.
A few streets later and she had finally found it. Her apartment building. The tall tan building was a few stories high and and had a large patch of grassy land in front of it. This must've been a more suburban part of the city because mostly houses, shops, and other establishments were around here.  It was nice. That just meant plenty of job opportunities! This was looking better and better by the second! A warm feeling of happiness was in her chest at the much needed change in her life. The first start of everything. She just had to find her apartment number which wasn't hard. Apartment one on floor one. Kinda simplified but it worked for her. The moving company mentioned her door would be left unlocked and a key would be delivered first thing the next morning so she should be all good to just walk on in. The woman walked right inside the front door and looked around her. There was a flight of stairs to the left, a hallway of doors in front of her, and at the very end of said hallway was the doors of an elevator presumably leading to the upper floors of the building. Finding her own door wasn't hard. It was the first door in the hall with the number one placed on the wall next to the door. This is it. Her new home. With a smile of excitement she instantly reached a hand out to grab the handle and turned.
.. Only to find it locked??
She blinked. The door handle was turned a few more times. It didn't budge. Only making clicking noises in resistance to her efforts and not opening at all. It was locked.
"What the-...HEY!" The map was dropped and left to flutter to the floor as now two hands wrapped around the knob and more force was applied to try and force it open. "What gives? This isn't funny." Using her shoulder, she rammed her body into the doors hard surface in a failed attempt to get it opened. "Open up!" When turning the handle and ramming into the door didn't work, she switched to just pounding a fist furiously on it as if someone was in there. "Open the door! I'm supposed to be here!" 
"HEY!" The pounding stopped and she looked up at an angry man glaring at her from another door. He must've stuck his head out hearing the commotion. "Knock off the noise! Some people enjoy the peace and quiet!"
"Oops...S-Sorry."
 The door was slammed back closed with an angry snort from the man making her since. Not a good start to her neighbors. But..there has to be a mistake! She was SURE This was the right building and the right apartment! So why wasn't it open?! We're the movers playing a sick joke on her. What now?! She needed to get inside or else she'd be sleeping on the streets! Or in the hallway! A worried hand shoved through pale hair worriedly. That wouldn't be a good idea. She didn't know the area yet! ....She better call that housing company! Hands quickly fumbled about for the phone in her pocket nearly dropping it. What was that number again?! Numbers were dialed and rings were given as she held it to her ear. Come on come on. Pick up! To her relief there was an answer!
"Hello. Uncanny Valley Apartment Hunters. How can we be of service today?," A woman's voice asked. An animalistic screech sounded out next which made her pull her head back.
She blinked. .. Must've had a pet parrot or something. "Uh..Yeah! I'm supposed to move in literally today and I'm locked out of my own house! I don't have a key or anything so what am I supposed to do?"
"May I have your name please?" 
"Fae Briar. I paid for everything a month in advance so I should be inside unless I'm at the wrong apartment."
Paper shuffling was heard and..was that a..blender?? Nah. Must've been a paper shredder. "Oh yes! Ms. Briar. We had a little issue with your apartment and it won't be ready until tomorrow. Our apologies."
"What?!" She felt like she'd been slapped across the face. "What are you talking about? What issues?!"
Some typewriting sounds followed by a loud annoyed sigh. "We've been having some issues.''
"Yeah? What issues?!"
"You're apartment will be ready tomorrow. Will there be anything else, Ms. Briar?"
Her teeth grinded together in annoyance and the grip on her phone grew. "No. Just ...Tell me when my dumb apartments ready."
"Of course. Have a nice day."
They hung up on her. And she stood there for a long moment staring blankly at the door. Before growling and grabbing her head as she let out a yell of frustration. GREAT! JUST GREAT!! She just got here and she can't even get into her own apartment she paid for DAYS ago!! What now?! She didn't have enough money for a hotel! She was lucky enough to be able to have enough money for the plane and bus ticket just to get here!! Her hands again fumbled with the phone in a desperate attempt to call possibly the only other person here who might help. However after twenty minutes of just standing there and calling Rose with no answers she gave up. It'd be better to save the phone battery just in case she needed it.
"This is just great! Just my luck this would happen!," She shouted in frustration. She felt like kicking or throwing something but she wouldn't resort to that. Instead she leaned defeated on the door and just.. flopped her arms uselessly to her sides. "Great. Just great. Now what am I supposed to do?"
There wasn't enough money leftover for a hotel, she was locked out of her apartment, and Rose wasn't answering her cell. There wasn't any choice but to hunker down here and camp outside her apartment until tomorrow came. ..her eyes wondered back to her map. Maybe there was a shelter or something else nearby she could stay at for the night? She bent down to pick up the map however noticed something else along with it. A small business card with- Oh. Mr. Talos business card. Forgot about that. Not like it'd be helpful anyways.
"Yeah right. I was lucky enough to afford this apartment. No way I can buy a house." Discarding the card once more the map was picked back up and opened as she annoyingly stared at it once more. "Right. Hotel it is then. I can get Rose to help me pay it off later."
So once again she set off only this time more annoyed than usual. And not noticing the watchful eyes following her. Down the streets she walked to no place in particular and looking between the buildings and map the entire time making sure to not get lost again. Soon she came upon what she thought was must've been the heart of the city. There should be hotels here right?
"Ok. Hotel. Hotel" her pink eyes looked around as she stopped. "Downtown areas usually have hotels right?"
Not seeing any forms of hotels, she looked back to the map in worry. At this rate she'd never be able to get settled in. Some great first impressions. She didn't notice the much taller figure approaching, until she felt something looming over her. She paused, looked up, and then squealed seeing Brady eyes and a too wide grin staring right back at her. Causing her to jump away.
"Lost? Lovely? You didn't call me, Ms. Briar."
She blinked. "Mr. Talo?" What the-...Where the heck did he come from?! She looked around before back to the tall man still smiling too widely at her. A shiver going down her spine. You weren't near where you last left him. "We're you following me?!"
"How silly." He waved her off. "No no. Dear buyer. I'm simply that good. Number one REALTOR in Uncanny Valley after all. I'm very sure you remember this. Right, Ms. Briar?"
"...How do you know my name?" Pink eyes widened as that fact set in. She never told him her name! How would he know that?!
"You clearly need a place to go and I have the PERFECT HOUSE just waiting for you to be inside it," he continued on not even answering her question. 
"Listen. I'm just looking for a hotel. Y'know...HOTEL." Fae gave a frown that almost could be a scowl at this point. This guy gave her the creeps. Who even was he?! She never told him her name and now he was suspected to follow her? "I can't even afford a house alright? I spent the last of my money getting here and I'm petty tired. So thank you but no. I just want to get a hotel for the night." She stressed out to him. Hopefully he got the hint 
He slowly frowned with a hum. "Hmm. A hotel." He seemed to be struggling with what she told him. Something was even creepier when he frowned then when he smiled which was shocking. Before he smiled again. "Oh. Oh my dear pooy buyer. You are so confused and lost I see."
Her mouth dropped open. "....Did you not hear what I just said? Even if I did agree to buy a house from you, I wouldn't have ANY money to buy it with! I might as well be trying to cook without a stove or any frying pans! Why would I agree to anything you're offering?"
"Listen. Just come with me and look at this lovely three bedroom home. If you don't absolutely fall in love with it, I'll personally pay for your hotel stay while I search for a house that suits your... personal needs."
She didn't like how his last sentence was almost a purr. But...If he was being serious about the hotel what did she have to lose? It wasn't like she could afford a hotel by herself anyways, and it might just get him off Fae's back. She could just humor him for an hour and tell him no once he's done showing her around. 
She sighed. "Alright. I will look at the house but-" she pointed a firm hand right at his face sternly. "-you better stop invading my personal space pal. Seriously. It's creepy."
"Perfect. Perfect." He said happily not even giving an indication to anything else she said. "I can assure you that you'll love this two garage domcile that's just STARVING to meet you!"
She was about to comment on his choice of words when she was abruptly cut off by the sensation of a long boney hand wrapping around her forearm, almost dragging her along as he quickly walked to gods knows where. She gasped at the grab and nearly fell over from stumbling to catch up with his quick pace. Maybe she made a mistake. Buildings and people passed by as they both walked like that. It felt like they had been walking for an hour in awkward silence, struggling to keep up with Maison's long and fast strides, when he stopped abruptly letting her go at the same time. She ended up colliding with his back before stumbling back a few steps, shaking her head, and looking back up at him in question. He didn't even flinch at that. 
"We're here!," He announced and tilted his head in expectation. "What do you think?"
She blinked looking around. Most of the big buildings were gone and replaced by just plain suburban homes and lawns. The house in question was in front of her and looked...just like a plain house? It looked to be a story tall, the standard size of a one floor home, with a garage, driveway, and cut grassy lawn. A 'For Sale' sign was mounted clear as day right smack dab in the front lawn close to the sidewalk. 
"....Oh. it's.. certainly a house?"
"Oh. Do you see something you like after all? I'm not surprised. After all this house is in VERY good condition." He sounded very proud of himself. 
"Um. It looks..Very nice." She complimented politely before looking at him. "But you don't seriously think I can afford this place right? This place looks way too expensive for me."
"Hehe. Quite the flatterer I see. I assure you the price is very reasonable and I'm willing to haggle greatly. The...'seller' is simply looking to sell fast."
Something felt off. Narrowing her eyes, she looked back to the nice looking house. Something had to be up. It was sounding more and more fishy like a scam by the second. There was no way she could be able to afford this no matter how much he haggled. There had to be a big catch. 
"Ok. What's the catch?" 
"Catch?"
Her arms crossed at this point as she deadpanned looked at him. "The house is haunted isn't it? Or was someone murdered in there?" She noticed his smile seemed to strain again after she asked that second question. Interesting. "Or is the owner some kind of criminal? There's no way it's this good unless it's a scam or something's wrong with the house. So which is it, Mr. Talo?"
".....Of course not. Nothing like that happened."
Ok. The pause was totally suspicious. A realtor was supposed to disclose that info to customers right? But this guy was shady and creeped her out from the get go. Something was definitely up here. 
"Simply come inside and look around.  No strings attached. You'll LOVE the insides.  You won't be able to walk away from a deal like this, Dear Buyer." 
Fae stood there unmoving looking slowly between Mr. Talos smiling face and the house. Something definitely wasn't right. The house looked plain but something was...off about it too. She just.. couldn't quite place it. The thoughts of Fae alone with no one but Mr. Talo too also seemed to put her on edge. The man was...too peculiar. It waved a few red flags in the air and she clearly saw them. But...She couldn't really afford that hotel either. Where was she supposed to stay? She didn't really have much of a cho-
"MAISON!!"
She flinched snapping out of her thoughts. What?
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU ALL DAY!"
A loud woman's voice called out somewhere behind Mr. Talo clearly angry. The man blinked for a moment before looking over his shoulder and seeming to both perk up and look slightly worried. 
"Ah. My dear provider!" He fully turned around with his back to Fae to now face whomever was yelling at him. "How are you doing this fine day? I've been doing rather well myself! Almost sold to a potential buyer-"
"Don't try to change the subject." Footsteps approached and a figure stopped in front of the taller man. "I tried calling you and walked around the city all day. You know we were supposed to talk about your 'selling strategies' this morning. I knew I should've just followed your lure but unfortunately work took up a few hours of my time."
"Ah. My apologies. You see I was a little preoccupied with a few 'possible sales' and wanted to keep the line open. I hope you can forgive me, my dear." 
This was...awkward. But perhaps now would be a good time to skip away without him noticing. But..why did that new voice sound so familiar? She slowly stepped sideways to look around Maison and froze on the spot when the new figure was revealed.
"You knew I wanted to talk to you this morning! You slipped away from me on purpose again. You know I hate it when you do that!" A red headed woman with blue eyes stood there scowling up at the man. "Are you trying to get me in trouble with the Mayor? He's already on my case about you hanging around the bus stops again when that's off limits to REALTORS." She looked over at Fae. "What's he going to do....if..."
She froze seeing Fae. Fae stared right back silently. Maison blinked confused at the redheads silence suddenly before raising a brow and followed her gaze back to Fae. Curious he continued to look between the two women as the silence continued on.
"Fae?!"
"ROSE?!"
"What are you doing here?!" The woman, her cousin, asked. Suddenly shocked that to see her standing there. "You're supposed to be at your apartment!!"
"I WAS!" Her arms were thrown up in defeat. "But then I got locked out and the stupid company won't let me in until tomorrow morning! What are YOU doing here?! I've been trying to call you!"
"I live here. You're locked out?! Who did that?"
"I dunno! The movers I guess! I can't get in and I couldn't reach you!" She then threw a hand in the man's direction. "And this guy has been trailing me all day trying to sell me a house no matter how many times I say no!"
Again there was silence before her cousin instantly scowled and slowly looked up at the man who instantly strained his smile wider. "Oh. ..So the dear buyer knows you?"
"She's my COUSIN, Maison!," Rose said with a deep scowl, "The one that I had told you was coming soon!"
If possible Mr. Talo looked like he suddenly wanted to disappear as he chuckled nervously. "Oh my. ..What a small world."
"Maison." A voice that sounded threatening with a growl escaped from Rose as she pointed to the house he had previously insisted on selling Fae. "Home! NOW! I'm going to have a VERY serious talk with you later!"
"A haha .. It's not what you think, Dear."
"I. Don't. CARE. You REALLY crossed a line this time!"
The two were arguing so loudly she almost didn't hear the rings of her phone. It startled her and stopped the other two into watching as she fumbled about to grab her ringing phone and hold it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Fae Briar?"
"Yes. Who's this?"
"I'm calling from the Uncanny Valley Housing Office. We solved that little issue we were having, so if you'd like to go ahead and go into the apartment it should be all ready for you!"
Pink eyes widened. "Wait. Really?! That's perfect!" She smiled widely. 
"We apologize for any delays. We look forward to your business and remember! Uncanny Valley Apartment Company is dedicated to finding the perfect home for you! Our REALTOR free guarantee since nineteen ninety two!"
She rolled her eyes at the cheesy catch phrase before simply hanging up and smiling wider. "That was the housing company!" She smiled back to Rose. "I can go back to my apartment right now!"
Rose blinked before nodding with a sigh. "That's good. You should go straight there then and then tomorrow morning I can help you unpack and get settled in. Do you need a ride back there?"
Fae held up the map as her answer. "I can just use this to get back. It's really not that big of a deal." 
Rose slowly nodded before narrowing her eye back to the still nervous looking man. "Ok. But I suggest you go straight back now. It's almost dark. I need to have a talk with Mr. Talo here about sales." Mr. Maison looked uncomfortable now.
Oh well. Not her problem anymore! She had a home now. "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow, Rose. Good night."
Without another word to Maison, she started stepping out towards the direction back towards her apartment building. It felt like hours before she finally made her way back through the city. The sun looked like it was just about to set within an hour.  She was just happy she could go home and rest her weary head and get off her sore feet. Following the map she made sure to keep on course with her route recognizing some of the places that Maison dragged her past. Alright then. Shouldn't be long now. Crossing a street, she looked at the route she intended to take. Passing her by was a random man- Her leg collided with another's and she stumbled a step. However the person who she accidentally tripped over stumbled a few more steps before stopping.
"Crap!" Pink eyes blinked over to the man whom blinked back to her. He was dressed mostly in black clothes and had unkempt long black hair cascading around his shoulders and down his back. "Sorry!" She held up a hand. "I must've not been paying attention. You're not hurt are you?" She looked him up and down. He didn't seem harmed. 
His eyes widened..and he slowly shook his head no. She smiled widely at him.
"I'm happy to hear that. Would've felt bad if I accidentally bowled you over or worse, made you get hurt. Sorry again. Have a good day."
With a small wave his way, she didn't give him another thought as she continued walking. Already her mind had forgotten about him in favor of getting home to the promise of the bed. The man stared at her watching her go...no one had...ever asked him that before. Or had been kind to him other than Ms. Ivy. A smile appeared on his face and pupils beat the symbols of love.
The apartment building was very quiet when she reentered it just as the sun was setting. Her nerves rising up as she made her way to the door. Would it really be open? She hesitated but grabbed it again and turned. There was no resistance and it turned fully allowing the door to swing open surprising her...And she smiled. The home was dimly lit up by the last rays of sunlight shining in through the windows illuminating the inside of the building and what little boxes and furniture was scattered about. It was peaceful and it was hers. 
She entered the apartment swinging the door closed behind her as she just stood there taking in the sights. Finally..Home. A backpack was dropped to the floor with a loud thud and tired footsteps approached the sofa in the middle of the room. She didn't give any other thought as she just threw herself onto the soft cushions. Finally. Peace.
Slowly eyes closed and she allowed sleep to claim her after so long.
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jimlingss · 4 years
Text
Black Waltz [2/2]
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]
➜ Words: 13.6k
➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Butler!AU
➜ Summary: When your parents pass away in an accident, a family secret is revealed. The only person you can trust and rely on is your personal butler, Kim Taehyung.
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The train whistles.   A moment later, the wheels are rolling against the steel rails. It starts slow, a gradual chug like a meander through the street that builds up and races past the town.   You rest your throbbing head against your propped up hand, enduring the nauseating nature of the train. Each breath you take is shallow and you feel your skin warm underneath the pads of your fingers. At the same time, it feels cold and the blanket does little to help.   You haven’t eaten much, not like you could even stomach it now. Taehyung keeps fretting over you — you can tell with the way he glances at you every so often, how he takes your suitcase from your hands, how he asks if you would like tea. You’re too weak to argue with him and insist you’re fine.   So you stay quiet, knowing that soon enough, you’ll be home.   And you bear it for six hours.   “My lady?” Taehyung’s brows furrow and you merely nod as he helps you off the carriage. The coachman is paid and thanked and you’re taking Taehyung’s arm for the walk up the slope to the estate.   “When we get home, draw a bath for me, Taehyung.”   “Will do. You should rest—”   “Y/N!” There’s a shrill shriek of your name that aches your head and you lift your eyes to find your aunt and cousin at the black gates. Aunt Marie grabs fistfuls of her red skirt and stomps over to you. “Where did you go for so long? None of your maids let me inside the house.”   “Good,” you exhale and narrow your eyes at the two of them. It takes each of your laboured breaths to speak. “I thought I told you never to step onto the estate again.”   “Y/N, please.” Hoseok comes forward. “I have something important to talk to you about.”   “Can it wait another day?” You’re about to brush past them, but your aunt doesn’t let you.   “Your father would be disappointed in how you treat your only family, Y/N. You’re not a young child who can throw a tantrum anymore, do you understand the consequences of any of your actions? Yet you have the audacity to try to sever our family ties—”   “Her ladyship has spoken.” Taehyung steps in front of you, shielding you with his larger body. “If you wish to speak to her, come another day.”   Your aunt’s teeth grit and venom-laced words are spat out, “How dare you speak to me this way! You’re a mere butler!”   “Stop.” You grab onto Taehyung’s arm, lids becoming heavy as the seconds pass. But most of all, you’re dizzy. It’s hard to keep upright. “Sto..p.”   “A guard dog!”   There are shouts, but the sounds are intelligible as if they’re farther away from them. As if you’re at the end of a tunnel. Your vision dims, black closing in from all angles to the center of my eyes.   The noise of hitting the ground never comes. Taehyung’s caught you in his arms.   //   When you come to, you’re laying in your bed, dressed in silk sleepwear with the covers wrapped around you. You’re weakened, sweat slipping from your forehead and shivering from chills.   “Miss. Arden.” There’s a doctor looking down at you and once Taehyung hears him call you, he rushes to your side. “Miss. Arden? Are you awake?”   The old man is noisy and you muster the strength to lift your hand mid-air. Taehyung immediately knows what you want and helps you sit upright. You lean on your weight on him. “What happened?”   “You fainted,” he murmurs.   “It’s good to see you’re alert.” The doctor smiles and leans down to his briefcase. He must’ve been called by Taehyung. You hear the clacking of bottles. “Luckily, your illness doesn’t seem to be smallpox. Vicious illness that is. Past the age for scarlet fever as well.”   You wonder if you’ll die. You know your health has never been the greatest. “Is it measles?”   He shakes his head, continuing to ruffle through his belongings. “Fortunately, you don’t have a single rash which tells me it’s not one of the sicknesses out there. Ah! Found it.”    Your eyes dart to how he places a bottle on your bedside table and he closes up the latches on his suitcase. The doctor then takes a seat on the chair beside your bed. “Can I ask if you’ve been...anxious recently, Miss. Arden?”   “Why?”   “I suspect the symptoms are arising from your mind.”   Your brows furrow. “You think I am putting on an act and falsifying my condition?”   “Not quite.” The old man smiles. “I believe the anxiousness and stress from your environment is most likely worsening your naturally weak constitution. Many of my fellow physicians don’t believe that such physical ailments can arise by the mental, but I for one…” He taps his temple. “...think the mind can be quite powerful.”   The doctor takes his suitcase. “I have given you medicine to help with the dizziness and your fever, but you must rest, Miss. Arden. If you wish to live a long life to be as old as I am, you must rest, rest, and rest. And perhaps….have a change of scene.”   He offers a kind smile, but before he can leave, you call out to him. “Please keep this a secret. Unless you want to bear the consequences.”   He nods, still with a warm expression. “I understand.”   The doctor leaves and for once, Taehyung doesn’t see him out. He stays right beside you and the room simmers into a quietness. After a beat, you’re moving, shifting the sheets from your body. But he stops you, placing a hand over your hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”   “My aunt and cousin were here, weren’t they? Something may have happened while I was gone. I should at least write a letter to Min Yoongi and find out if the company—”   “Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? You need rest.”   “He was speaking nonsense. There’s no illness that comes from the mind, Taehyung.”   “He’s one of the best doctors in Trulia,” he deadpans, guiding you down against your will. Taehyung pulls the blankets up to your chin. “So stop being stubborn and listen to him. Nothing will happen if you rest.”   You’re too weak to get up on your own and struggling to only make you more weary. You resort to scoffing at him, eyes pointed in a glare. “You’re stepping over the line, Kim Taehyung. You are supposed to obey my every word.”   “Then punish me.”   You huff out at his challenge. He wants to act like you won’t.    But Taehyung can be even more willful than you and he wins when your eyes start to droop. You hear him tell you to ‘sleep’ and like magic, you fall into a deep slumber.   ...   Unbeknownst to the two of you, Jane is creeping outside the room behind an ornate vase, having eavesdropped on the conversation through the crack of the door.    That night, when not a soul is in the corridor, the girl slips from her room and creeps out of the manor. Her steps quicken down the path leading to the black gates, holding a flickering oil lamp in hand to illuminate the way.   There, outside of the bars separating the world from this estate, is your aunt shrouded in the darkness.   “She’s ill. The doctor said the sickness is from her mind.”   The thin lips of the older woman curls and she snickers before it breaks into a full laugh. “It won’t be long before she’s sent to a madhouse then.” She looks at the maid. “Very good. You’ll be greatly rewarded for this.”   “Thank you, madam.”   //   For the coming days, Taehyung doesn’t allow you out of bed except in times for a bath. If it were anyone else, you’d reprimand them. You hate feeling like a child. You despise being coddled like one. But Taehyung is Taehyung and even he knows that you won’t go against him for long.   Sometimes you wonder who the real master and servant is.   “The cook made you porridge. I told them not to add in any thyme. If you don’t want it, I’ll ask them for something else.”   “It’s fine.” You know Taehyung won’t leave until he sees you eat, so leaning on the headboard, you deadpan to him, “Feed me.”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “If you insist.”   He holds the silver bowl, lightly blowing over the spoonful before it carefully meets your lips.   “It’s bland.”   “Too much seasoning will upset your stomach and you won’t be able to take your medicine.”   “I want that doctor dead.”   Taehyung smiles. “If that’s what you’d like, mistress.”   He blows over another dreadful spoonful and extends his arm. Your lips part to eat and he watches you with a tender expression.   “The household funds need to be looked at.”   “I’ll take care of it tonight.” He feeds you another spoon.   You swallow it gingerly. “The company?”   “I sent a letter to Mr. Min. Your cousin’s taken bigger means to try and take over, but as you let Mr. Min deal with it as he chooses, your cousin went away after a police report was made. It’s been quiet for the past few days.”   “He’ll be back,” you sigh when the spoon is at your mouth, but Taehyung doesn’t give up, so you part your lips. He makes sure to carefully wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “And my aunt?”   “She hasn’t returned. I’ll send her away if she does.”   “I need to speak to Detective Jeon.”   “Then I’ll set up a meeting in the week.”   Once you’ve finish the porridge, Taehyung smiles and leans in close to briefly press the back of his hand to your forehead. “What would I do without you, Taehyung?” you murmur, gazing at him.   “Nothing would change. I’d find you anyhow,” he says. “Now sleep.”   You nod and lay back down with your stomach warm and full.    Your lashes flutter shut and Taehyung slips out with the tray in hand.    Taehyung knows you’ve gotten better. But he needs to keep you from being upset, from having to lash out. And he’ll do whatever it takes.    After all, he doesn’t know how much longer your body or mind will be able to take it.   “B-Butler Kim?” He’s stopped in the middle of the hall as Rose rushes to him. He’s always been able to pick her out in the house. Rose is the shortest and youngest, but also the one who tries her hardest — you weren’t wrong in choosing her.   “What’s the matter?”   The young girl’s voice drops into a whisper. “There’s a man at the front gates…”   He nods, posture straightening, steps becoming firm. The end of his tailcoat slices through the air in his strides and he makes it to the kitchen before walking right out of the manor to the front.    There, Jimin and another maid are at a loss of what to do. But the moment they see Taehyung, there’s almost an audible sigh of relief.   “Butler Kim!” Your uncle is on the other side of the gate, exasperated. “There you are! Tell these servants to let me in! I only want to see my poor, sick niece!”   Taehyung moves his head towards the pair and they take the sign to scurry away while they have the chance.   He opens the latches of the gate and the older man’s eyes light up. But instead of being let in, Taehyung slips out. “My apologies, her ladyship isn’t taking guests at the moment.”   “Guests?!” Seokjin is entirely offended. “I am her only uncle!”   “If there is any message you would like to relay, then please let me know.”   “No, I must see her in person.” He shakes his head adamantly and then dabs the area underneath his eyes with his hand. “Poor, poor, Y/N. I hurried here the moment I heard she was sick. I am the only uncle she has and she is my only niece. Who else will care for her but I?”   Taehyung’s arms are placed behind his back. No one sees the way his white gloved hands curl into tight fists.    Yet he maintains a bright smile. “I’ll let her ladyship know that you send your best wishes then. Although...I’m afraid she may not be able to take your words to heart after you sent a man to try to kill her.”   Seokjin’s eyes widen in shock. His mouth drops. He staggers back.   Taehyung’s height towers over him, his smile frightening.   “Y-You!” Your uncle flounders. “You have no proof!”   “But there are witnesses,” Taehyung bluffs with an unconcerned hum. “I’m sure that man would tell you, right? I may have thrown him off the train, but I believe he is still alive and unfortunately, only severely harmed. But I must say, sir, that you chose the wrong person. He confessed it was you quite easily. Who knows what he would say to policemen.”   The older man is flabbergasted, lurching backwards away from Taehyung as if he’s a monster. Seokjin almost falls down, but grips the brick half-wall as leverage.   “The only reason you have yet to be arrested is due to her ladyship’s utmost compassion. But I must say her tolerance is wearing thin and mine,” Taehyung chimes, “no longer exists!”   “T-T-T-This is outrageous! Outrageous, I say!” Seokjin frantically turns around and hobbles away. He glances over his shoulder and flinches when Taehyung waves.   Taehyung then turns on his heel and closes the gate, strolling back into the manor.    For some reason, he doesn’t think he’ll see your uncle for a while.   //   The next day, there’s a knock at your door while you’re seated at your round table, out of bed against the doctor’s orders and much to Taehyung’s dismay. “Come in.”   A certain maid peeks her head inside. “My lady.”   “Jane.” You perk with a smile. “What is it?”   She grins and enters. “I wanted to ask if you’d like anything.”   “I’m fine, thank you. On the contrary, how are you? Is everyone in this house treating you well?”   “Y-Yes.” She dips. “I’m doing well, my lady. Everyone treats me fairly.”   “Good.” You look at her carefully through sharpened eyes. “If I may comment…”   “Yes?”   “You are quite pretty,” you praise and Jane blushes with a modest ‘thank you’. “It’s not often I have someone so attentive by my side, good work. I’ll call on you when I need you.”   “Yes, my lady.” Jane smiles and leaves.    On her way out, she passes by a familiar doe-eyed man beside Butler Kim in the hall. Yet neither man speaks a single word and as she turns the corner, pressing herself to the wall, the door slams shut. There’s not even a muffle or sound.    She curses underneath her breath and leaves before someone catches her.   “I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been well, Miss Y/N.”    Detective Jeon approaches you, taking off his top hat.    “Yes, well, I’ve been getting better.” You look over at your butler who already has his brows knitted together seeing you up. Your expression warms. “Will you get Detective Jeon and I some tea, Taehyung?”   He bows with a hand over his chest. “Right away, mistress.”   Taehyung swiftly leaves as Detective Jeon takes a seat across from you, placing his briefcase down. “I received your letter. I’m sorry to hear Arthur Kahl wasn’t who you were looking for.”   “What’s done is done. Do you have anything new?”   “Unfortunately I don’t have any leads at the moment. I’m still in the process of tracing your parents’ history and seeing if there is anything unusual.”   “If you ever need something, let me know. I am still willing to pay a generous sum for your services.”   He nods and his doe eyes pin onto you as he leans back into the chair. “I must say there is one thing I am curious about.”   “What is it?”   “If I may pry…” He folds his hands together, brown irises sparkling. “What is your relationship with Butler Kim?”   Your brow cocks. “He’s my most trusted confidant.”   The answer comes to mind without trouble. Taehyung is the only person you can rely on. The person you come to if you have trouble. The person who you know will always be there.    He is your person.   “Is that all?”   You don’t know where he’s trying to get at and your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking?”   The corner of Detective Jeon’s lip curls, melting into a pleasant expression and overly boyish smile. “It’s in a detective’s nature to be curious. It’s the reason I’m good at my job, Miss. Y/N. I just find it unusual considering butlers and mistresses aren’t as close as you two are.”   Your face remains stoic. “What are you implying?”   “You probably know perfectly what I’m implying.” With the vase of flowers set on the table, he leans over to fiddle with a petal.   Detective Jeon doesn’t seem the kind to double-cross you, or at least he would never risk his professional name to spread rumours about your private affairs. He seems to be genuinely curious, so you entertain him. “Since my parents' abrupt passing, I’ve succeeded my father’s position and become the head of the Arden house. I’ve also become the target of countless.”   “With power comes unwanted attention,” he chimes as if he’s seen it many times.   “People are trying to kill me, use me, dispose of me every second of each hour. I won’t endanger anyone unnecessarily. I have to look further than such frivolous emotions.”   Detective Jeon lets go of the flower petal, appearing more amused than before. “Funny. He said something quite similar.”   You frown, not sure what he’s talking about. “Did he also tell you to get out and stop poking your nose into things you’re not getting paid for?”   The man laughs. “Will do.”   He takes his suitcase, tips his hat as a goodbye and opens the door. He passes by the man that the pair of you were just talking about, and grins. “Looks like I won’t be needing that tea, Butler Kim. I’ll come back when I have new information to share. Until then…”   Detective Jeon strolls down the corridor and Taehyung looks at you. “That was quick.”   “Never mind him.” You beckon your butler over with a single gesture. “Taehyung.”   “Yes?”   “I’m hungry.”   He smiles. “What would you like to have, my lady?”   //   The Arden manor is distinct. Not just because of its sheer size and that it sits on a stretch of green behind black gates. Or that it’s hidden on an uphill climb away from the bustle of the city.   The roof is steeply-pitched, arches pointed and the front-facing gables are laden with a wooden trim. Each part of the house’s exterior is narrow with sharp edges. It was built many years ago, yet it looks like it’ll be decades before it falls apart. Rather, much of the colour has washed away from the stone.   The interior is no different, frequently decorated in dark oak or shades of maroon, from the carpet to the walls. Sunlight does little and candlelight only casts more shadows from the flickering flame.   The only real colour on the estate is the gardens outside.   “Jimin!”   The gardener looks up, holding shears in hand. “What are you doing here, Rose?”   Said girl is precariously balancing a silver tray in hand, but she still manages to grin. “I’m bringing tea to her ladyship. I just thought I’d take the path outside. What flowers are you trimming?”   “Oh just pruning the rose bushes of the late madam’s.” His expression softens. “Lady Y/N doesn’t seem to care much for it, but that doesn’t mean I can let it become messy. This is the least I can do.”   The twelve year old admires the older man’s earnest personality. Jimin seems to genuinely like flowers and tending to them. “When will they bloom?”   “Surely in the next few weeks and when they do, it’ll look beautiful.”   She can imagine it already. “Would you like me to bring a snack for you later?”   Jimin’s eyes become enlarged in delight. “Really?”   Rose nods with an enormous smile. “There’s leftover bread and cheese in the kitchen.”   “I...I couldn’t. Isn’t that for her ladyship?”   “She wouldn’t mind,” she insists. At the Arden estate, she’s eaten better than she ever did back at the orphanage. Butler Kim’s quite kind as well. He doesn’t mind what’s taken from the kitchen as long as there’s enough for you which everyone makes sure there always is.   “Well alright then.” The gardener eases. “But you shouldn’t leave her waiting for too long!”   “Right!” She hurries along before the tea gets cold. “I’ll come back later!”   Jimin waves and Rose enters through the other door, up the stairs, and down the corridor. She almost spills the teacup at one point as it’s rattling against the tray, but she finds her balance and knocks.   “Come in.” The door opens and you look up from your desk.   The phonograph in the corner of the room is playing a muffled symphony of violins and trumpets. It sounds beautiful, an entrancing melody that makes her stuck in her spot too long before she snaps out of it.   Rose ducks her head and comes over. “Butler Kim told me it’s time for your afternoon tea.”   “He really is bothersome,” you sigh, putting down the document. It hasn’t even been ten minutes since you entered the study. You’re not sure what the point of trying to work is when he’s constantly distracting you with excuses of teatime or insisting it’s time for a walk.   The young girl smiles. “Butler Kim just cares a lot, my lady.”   “I know.”   She places the porcelain teacup down, and her hand is shaky as she tries to pour the tea. It splashes on the outside saucer and she flinches, but you don’t say anything.   “Do you like it? The music.”   “It’s nice.” She admits, “I never got to listen to music much before.”   “You can come in any time to listen if you’d like.” At your offer, Roses eyes become rounded and your mouth tugs. “If all your duties are done, that is.”   “T-Thank you! I will!”   You sip on your tea while your eyes flicker down to your paper. Then you set the cup down and direct your attention to the girl. “Do you know how to read and write, Rose?”   Her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she shakes her head. “I know the letters but that’s all. Even then, it takes me a long time.”   “Bring that chair over then.”   The young maid is surprised, but follows your instructions, dragging the chair beside you. You smile at her, not wanting to admit that it is nice to take a break. Or that it’s pleasant to help someone as well. “Write out what letters you know for me.”   She nods and awkwardly grips the fountain pen.   “You’re missing a stroke. Right there.”   “Right here?”   “That’s right. There. You have it.”   A grin spreads into her face. “Can you teach me how to write your name?”   “Mine?” Your brows lift yet she bobs her head twice.    You’re not sure how much time passes, how long the two of you are wrapped up, cowering over the desk with pens and papers as the handles of the clock ticks away. But then Taehyung’s peeking in through the gap of the door with a softened expression and he reluctantly knocks.   “My lady,” he interrupts. “Lawyer Kim is here.”   “Let him in.” You turn to the twelve year old girl who’s visibly disheartened and your hand strokes the top of her head gently. “If you have some time, then practice. Next time I’ll teach you how to write your own name and maybe we can read a book together?”   “Next time?” She’s easy to read. You can see the way excitement washes over her, how she lights up as you nod and you watch her in endearment as she scurries away with the promise.   //   Each morning the mail is handed to Taehyung by one of the maids and he sets it on your bedside for you to go through. But today as he’s walking to your room and shuffles through them, he sees a fascinating letter from a man named Mr. Mark Carter. His brow quirks and he opens it. It’s not uncommon to go through your letters considering he writes most of your replies these past few days.   But instead of being business related—   To my dearest, Arden Y/N, My thoughts have been full of you in the past days. You are as beautiful…   Taehyung rips the page before any more is read. There’s no need for you to waste your time.   “Taehyung.” You call from the corner as he enters and he promptly places the letters down. He pockets the shreds of the love letter and attends to you.    Taehyung helps you get dressed in front of the mirrors, his long fingers nimbly tying your corset before he’s draping the champagne gown over your frame. “You really shouldn’t be out of bed.”   “It’s been two weeks since we came home, Taehyung. Do you expect me to stay bedridden forever?”   “I could handle all of your affairs for you.”   “I know.” You turn around to face him. “But I don’t want you to.”   “I wouldn’t want you to faint again.”   “I won’t,” you tell him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “And even if I did, you’d be there to catch me, no?”   Taehyung swallows hard and you freeze when he suddenly reaches out. His arm extends and he gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Taehyung gazes at you tenderly. It’s much too intimate. “What would be the point if I don’t see you into your old age?”   The pad of his thumb draws down your jaw before he lets go.   You smile softly, skin tingling from his affectionate touch. “Would you still be attending to me if I were in my old age?”   “Of course I would be.”   “Wouldn’t you want to be married at some point, Taehyung?” You move past him to the vanity, taking your brush through your hair.   He watches you for a moment before he approaches and steals the brush from your hand. He proceeds to your hair gently, the way he knows you like it best. “Who would I be married to?”   “I could find you a good match.”   “And risk not being there when you might need me?”   You look at his reflection. “Then how long do you plan to be beside me then?”   “Always,” he answers.   Taehyung’s gaze is fixed onto yours through the mirror, his eyes softened, hands grasping the strands of your hair. Your breath hitches in your throat as something squeezes inside your chest.   You swallow hard. “Taehyung.”   The corner of his mouth curls into a sly smile. “Hmm?”   “What’s…” He’s such a handful sometimes, but you know to him you’re two handfuls. “….that noise outside?”   “I think that’s your cousin crying.”   “And why is he crying?”   “He wants to meet with you. Don’t worry. It’s handled. He tried to climb the gate but Jimin used his garden rake to push him off.”   You sigh, pitching the bridge of your nose. “Just let him in. I’ll see him.”   It’s easy to tell that Taehyung is reluctant and even surprised at your defeated response. But unlike your uncle and aunt who have some shame, you’re sure Hoseok would be there day and night sobbing on the ground. There wouldn’t be any good done if outsiders start to take notice.   You leave to the parlor to have your morning cup of tea and surely enough, Hoseok runs in while panting. You sort of wish he would’ve knocked over the statue by the archway. That way, you could make him compensate you with his life’s fortune. It would be a funny story to tell in the future, but alas.   “Y/N! Finally! F-Finally! Those servants of yours...they almost killed me!”   “They were following my instructions.”   He’s dejected and plops down on the sofa, frantically shaking his head. “I know that Uncle Seokjin, my mother and you aren’t on good terms, but please hear me out.”   The taste of earl grey lingers on your palette. “You want to take over the company.”   Hoseok’s spine straightens. “Y/N, Uncle Eugene would’ve wanted someone in the family to take over. I don’t understand how an outsider could be the head of the company!”   “Don’t bring my father into this,” you snap. It’s easier to be direct with your cousin since he’s younger than you are. The idea of disrespect doesn’t have to play a big role in your confrontation. “He’s dead. It doesn’t matter what he wants now. What are your qualifications?”   “What?”   “How are you deserving of the job? How do you expect to run an entire company? What have you ever done in your life that you would be able to do those things?” you question with your arms crossed. Hoseok opens his mouth and then shuts it. He knows it himself. The fact of the matter is— “You’ve accomplished nothing. If you want the job so much, then interview for it and start at the bottom and learn.”   Hoseok stands up abruptly. “That’s not what Uncle Eugene would’ve wanted—!”   You’re forced to your feet. “Don’t speak about my father!”   “But—!”   You grip your temples that’s beginning to throb. Your head aches and you’re becoming dizzy.   Taehyung immediately notices and comes to your side, but you wave him off. “Bring him out.”   Hoseok is escorted by Taehyung. The former sighs lowly and walks away without putting much of a fight. Dragging his legs. Shoulders slugging. It’s not like you wanted it to be like this. Your idea of family was never an image of distrust or exhaustion. But this is what you were born into.   Taehyung comes back after he’s left. He searches your expression sternly and shoulders your weight when you lean on him. “This isn’t good. You should rest.”   “I know.”   But as you take his arm, more noises come from the other room. In particular, it’s a familiar voice that can only belong to— “Y/N!”    Aunt Marie stomps inside with Jane trailing behind her with a distressed expression.   “What is the meaning of this?”   Jane winces at your tone. “I thought...I thought since you let in—”   “I heard you were ill,” your Aunt cuts her off, holding her head high. She must’ve run into Hoseok outside, but she makes no mention of it. He must’ve ignored her. “It was only right that I come see if the rumours are true for myself.”   “Well you’ve seen me, now you can leave. I’m not taking guests at the moment.”   Her mouth opens, but Taehyung’s eyes fix on her, holding an intense stare. “If you’ll excuse us. Jane, please lead out Mrs. Arden immediately.”   “R-Right away, Butler Kim.” The maid bows her head and your aunt scoffs, not bothering to follow you. She stays in her spot, insisting on keeping an utterly offended expression.   The room empties.   “That dog of hers watches her too closely.”   “Don’t worry madam,” Jane quietly whispers with a growing smirk. “He won’t be able to save her this time.”   The older woman snorts. “You remember what I told you?”   “Of course. They won’t see it coming.”   She hums a low note. “Be careful. That guard dog is perceptive.”   //   The kitchen is filled with a flavorsome aroma, but it’s a frenzy as the grandfather clock chimes throughout the manor. The cook is rushing all over the kitchen with the kitchen maid, throwing in the potatoes and finishing the beef stew. Even Jane is beginning to become nervous as she watches them. That damn son of a bitch butler won’t be happy if your dinner is delayed a second and she still has to put it in.   There can’t be any more delay.   “Here it is! Finally, done!”   The cook ladles the stew from the pot into the bowl and Jane finally moves before another maid can. “I’ll take it up for her ladyship,” she loudly volunteers.   “Go quickly!”   “Wait! I have to add the parsley,” the kitchen maid shouts.   In the disorder, no one notices how Jane looks both ways and slips a vial out from her apron pocket. It’s uncapped and the clear liquid poured in, dissolving right into the broth. But by then, the kitchen maid is already pushing her aside to add in the parsley.   “There we go.”   Jane disguises her smirk and swiftly takes the tray. She begins to head down the corridor.   But as she turns the corner, she nearly collides with Butler Kim. Immediately, the maid dips her head with an apology and he takes the tray from her. “There it is. What took so long?”   “The cook had trouble.”   Butler Kim turns and strides down the hall. The corner of her mouth pulls.   Jane doesn’t notice how Taehyung looks down into the bowl for a moment.   With the deed finally done, she makes her way to the small dining room next to the pantry meant for the workers to gather and eat. It’s perfect. It won’t be long now until things start to happen and she gets her reward.   She smiles to herself before she’s abruptly interrupted— “Did something good happen, Jane?”   The maid doesn’t know where the voice is coming from until she looks down and sees the twelve year old who she doesn’t even remember the name of. But looking at her big eyes and hearing her nosy question annoys her. Jane snaps, “It’s none of your business.”   The young girl flinches and quiets.   What Jane doesn’t expect is how minutes later, Butler Kim returns with the tray in hand and the food untouched. The colour immediately drains from her face.   “Is there something wrong?” The cook bumbles over in alarm.   “Her ladyship isn’t hungry,” he informs and Jane breathes a sigh of relief, but is still disappointed. She curses inside her head.   “I see.” The cook sighs. “What a shame, it was the first time I tried to make this kind of stew. I thought I would be able to get her ladyship’s opinion.”   “It would be a waste to dispose of it then.” Butler Kim smiles. “Everyone come give it a try.”   Several turn their heads at one another, visibly confused at his unexpected offer but they happily follow along with his instructions. The kitchen maid is eager, anticipating their responses, and spoons are quickly passed around.    But Jane stays frozen on her spot and the butler’s sharp eyes quickly take notice.   “Is there something wrong?”   “I...I don’t think I’ll eat, sir.”   “Why not?”   “I’m not...feeling well. My apologies. I’ll retire to the quarters—”   “Surely a spoonful wouldn’t hurt.” Taehyung stops Jane before she can move to the doorway. Everyone’s eyes are pinned on them and she’s suddenly presented with a wooden spoon and a bright smile. “Don’t you want to give your thoughts to the cook so he may improve his dishes to her ladyship?”   “I—”   “It’s a part of your duties to look after her ladyship, is it not? That includes testing her food.”    “Well—”   Taehyung scoops a spoonful of the stew’s broth and it’s forcibly brought to her mouth. “There’s no reason why you should refuse.”   “Stop—wait! NO!” Her arm comes out to bat at it away from her. “It’s poisoned!”   The spoon clatters on the ground and the bowl shortly follows. It shatters, shards of porcelain spraying across the floor and the yellow liquid splattering against the wall. There are gasps and Jane’s breath heaves in and out of her chest. Sweat is gathered at her hairline and she feels the scrutinizing eyes of the entire household pinned on her.   Butler Kim cocks his brow. “How do you know that?”   “I...I…” Jane fumbles with her words, heat rising in her face, colour fading from her lips.   “This is actually a new bowl from the pot.” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls. “I would never offer what was supposed to be her ladyship’s to anyone else. So why do you say it’s poisoned?”   She opens her mouth, incoherent words stuttering out, but as she turns her head, searching for an explanation, some sort of excuse, her eyes meet Rose’s.   Jane’s arm instantly extends and she points at the twelve year old. “I saw her put something suspicious into her ladyship’s food! I didn’t know if I saw it correctly, so I didn’t want to say anything. I-I didn’t know she could be capable of doing such a thing….”   “What?” Rose’s eyes enlarge, tears gathering at her lashes. “No! I didn’t!”   “Liar!” Jane screams at her, height looming over the girl. “How could you deny it in front of Butler Kim! Do you have no morals?!”   “Please.” Rose looks at her and then him. “I didn’t do anything like that! Please believe me!”   “What is all this noise?” The shrill cries are intercepted by you entering the room. Jane dips her head as Rose looks to you with pleading eyes. The others ease, knowing you’re here.   Taehyung comes beside you, arm stretched in case you step onto the glass. “One of the maids just admitted something no one else knew.”   “I didn’t do it,” Rose whimpers.   You look around the room and sigh tiredly. You pitch the bridge of your nose and then wave him off. “Leave it be. Surely it’s a misunderstanding.”   “Understood.” Taehyung puts his hand over his chest and bows.   “I’m feeling tired. Bring me to my room, Taehyung.”   He nods and offers you his arm.    Two maids move to clean up the mess as Rose tries to reason with others. Jimin comes to her side, but Jane continues to glare at the young girl. There’s sweat built at Jane’s hairline and her heart is lodged in her throat.   It was close. Too close.   //   For the next few days, you’re afraid Taehyung is becoming more distrustful than you are.   Much to your dismay, he has a bite of your food and a sip of your tea before you get the chance to each time. It’s not as cute as when he did it as a kid — back when he was just trying to get a taste of what he could. Now he’s doing it because he’s overly suspicious.   The last thing you want is for him to become your taster and does in fact become poisoned. There’s not much of a point if he dies and you’re still alive.   But once you make your complaint, he resorts to making all of your food for you, not allowing a single person in the kitchen or to touch your dish. You don’t want to tell him that his cooking is more delicious than the cook’s for fear he’ll continue and overwork himself to death.   “You’re really such a handful,” you mutter, looking up at him.   Taehyung’s brow lifts, wondering where that was coming from.   The pair of you were burning the midnight oil as you were looking over this month’s household expenses and what is left of your personal wealth. He didn’t want you to be here doing work, yet couldn’t protest after your insistence. But in truth, you can’t look over it properly with your mind preoccupied.   You hate seeing Taehyung this way — excessively anxious, on guard, needlessly gluing himself to your side whenever he can. It’s enough that you’re already like that. But you suppose that’s the humorous part. He doesn’t like it when you’re like this either.   You feel like this house is making you both lose your minds.   “Taehyung.”   “Yes, my lady?”   You weakly wave him over. “Carry me to bed. I’m tired.”   “Understood.”   Taehyung leans down and collects you in his arms, an arm beneath your knees and the other around your backside. You lean on his shoulder with your arms looped around his neck, nestling close to him.    He walks to the door, briefly opens it and strides down the hall that’s without a maid or servant in sight.   “How long do you think this will last, Taehyung?”   “What do you mean?”   “Us. Being so afraid and anxious.” You wonder how long you’ll have to be fighting against your relatives and outsiders, if you’ll ever be left alone, if that day will ever come. “Even if I find my older sister or brother, then what?”   “You don’t need to be anxious. I’m here.”   The corner of your lips softly tug and you look up at him through your lashes. Taehyung’s brown irises meet yours in the warm candlelight lamps on the walls. “And let you bear all of my hardships? How could I let that happen?”   “Then don’t bear it all alone.” The timbre of voice is husky. “You can rely on me too.”   “I already do. More than you know.”    If you had no one to truly trust, you would’ve been lost long ago. Taehyung is your saviour.   “You don’t need to worry about what happens afterwards. I’ll go where you go.”   “And if I have no more wealth to my name and I’m unable to pay you?”   “You don’t need to pay me a single cent for me to stay by your side.”   Your gazes meet and his steps slow. It’s much too intimate, and you notice the way his eyes flicker to lips. For a moment it feels like the distance is closing between you and you brace yourself as a kind of sweet anxiousness is sewn inside your chest. But you aren’t afraid.   Then, as your lashes flutter….Taehyung turns away.   His Adam’s apple bobs inside his throat.   Nothing is spoken as the door to your bedroom is opened and closed, and he lays you down onto the bed. “If there’s nothing more you need from me, then rest well, my lady.”   “Taehyung.”   “Yes?”   Your irises connect. There’s pause. A tenseness to the air.    But then you wave him away.    “Never mind. Good night.”   The lights are blown and he leaves while you tug the covers to your chin for warmth.    You’re unaware of how once the door shuts, Taehyung’s back presses against the surface. His eyes close tight and the hands that held you tenderly crumple into fists.   He almost allowed his own desires to overcome his duties to you.   //   The following evening, Rose sits alone in her small room and sighs to herself.    She’s happy that she was brought here to work on the estate. It’s all she could’ve ever wished for — a kind mistress to work for, friends she never knew she’d make, and being able to sleep comfortably with a full stomach. But she didn’t know it could also be this hard.   She really didn’t try to harm you. Why would she when all you’ve been to her is generous and all she waits for are the hours when she’s allowed to sit beside you and taught how to read and write. But she can tell some of the other girls don’t believe her.    She isn’t sure what to say or do to clear her name.   Rose stumbles to her wardrobe and reaches towards the back. Hidden behind a lilac handkerchief is a golden pocket watch. Her thumb runs along the shiny surface and she exhales.   “What should I do, mom?”   The twelve year old doesn’t see the older girl in the hall, chewing on the nail of her thumb, anxious of what to do and how to gain back your favour. And Jane’s eye incidentally turns towards the gap of Rose’s door as she passes.   “What are you doing?”   The door slams against the walls and Rose jolts, startled.   Jane’s eyes dart to the pocket watch. “What is that?”   “It’s nothing!” Rose’s arms jerk behind her back, but it’s too late. The older girl stomps towards her and rips her arm back. She cries out and Jane snatches the golden watch from her grasps.   “You stole this, didn’t you!”   “No! Give it back!”   “Then how do you have something so expensive?! You stole it from her ladyship!”   “I didn’t!”   “Liar. There’s no way you would be able to afford something like this. Your hands are sticky, aren’t they?” A smirk spreads into her cheek. This is it. The way she can gain your trust again. “You’re going to get thrown out tonight on my watch.”   Rose cries as she’s dragged down the hall. She struggles but it’s futile against the older’s strength. Another girl intercepts, asking what’s going on, but Jane pushes them aside.   She’s taken down the corridor, all the way to the study. “Say goodbye to your job, little girl,” Jane mocks and then knocks on the door.   It opens it at your command and Taehyung immediately steps forward the moment he sees Jane yanking Rose’s arm and the latter sobbing. “What is the meaning of this?”   Jane lets go of the twelve year old who has streams of tears staining her cheeks and steps forward. She allows the pocket watch to drop in her hand, holding it by the chain. It catches the light and looks like it glows. “My lady, I just caught this maid stealing from you. I had to report it immediately.”   Upon seeing the pocket watch, you teeter to a stand. The chair screeches against the floorboards.   “Bring it here.”   Taehyung takes it and hands it to you.   It’s a perfectly round contraption, the cover golden, reflecting against the candlelight. But it’s without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. You flip it open to find handles ticking away as seconds and minutes pass. Strangely, on the inside, opposite of the clock is a picture of a beautiful woman you don’t recognize. Most of all, you recognize the surface is worn and there are a few scratches.   Taehyung watches you. Your voice is kept quiet, a mere breath that releases from your lips—   “Where did you get this?”   Jane opens her mouth but your glare flickers to her and the words die on her tongue.    Rose is the one who pipes up, hands scrunched into her dress’ skirt, head ducked down. “It...it was my mother’s.”   “I have a pocket watch like this,” you tell her, rounding the desk and flipping the watch in your hand. “I can tell this is from my father’s company too. At least with the way the handles are crafted and the numbers are written. My father always liked his watches a certain way.”   You continue, “He also never made many golden pocket watches. Certainly not ones without any engravings. It’s much like mine.”   A rush of air escapes Jane’s nose. The corner of her eye moves to the twelve year old who’s quivering in her spot. She is done for.   You step forward, inhaling a breath. “But my pocket watch is cracked.”   Jane’s breath instantly hitches in her throat. Your eyes are pinned on Rose’s face. “I sent Taehyung to fix it for me months ago.”   The pocket watch is not a copy, but a sister to yours.   “Is this really your mother’s?”   Rose nods with a sniffle, unable to understand where this was going.   Taehyung comes beside you, having already caught on to your suspicions. And you lean on him, swallowing hard. “Then if that’s true….you may be the one I’m looking for. You might be my sister.”   “S-Sister?” Rose’s eyes grow wide and a tear hanging off her lash rolls down her cheek. “I….have family?”   It’s all lining up inside your mind and your brows knit together, but you don’t allow it to sink in. Not when you notice Jane’s mouth dropping, how she takes a step back.   “Where do you think you’re going?” you deadpan, turning your head to the older maid and she flinches.   “My lady—”   “You’re fired. Pack your bags. The carriage will take you away.” Your voice drops an octave. “And don’t think of leaving to tell my aunt what you heard here tonight.”   “My lady!” Colour drains from her face. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about!”   “Do you really think I wouldn’t know about you poisoning my food?”   Jane careens backwards while you take a step forward. “I was framed!”   You ignore her plea, eyes narrowing in on her. “Did you really think I would let go of an attempt on my life so easily?”   She’s frightened. You can tell by the way she shakes.   “Did you think I didn’t know how you would sneak out in the middle of the night to meet my aunt outside those gates?” You loom over the conniving girl. “I knew it from the moment you stepped foot into this house and knocked on my door. Did you take me for being a fool? I let you stay so I could keep my eye on you.”   Jane falls down, back against the wall and puts her hands up to protect herself.    You knew the entire time. After all, you and Taehyung don’t keep secrets from one another. It’s easy to fit the puzzle pieces together that way.   “Taehyung.”   His hand is placed over his chest and he bows. “Yes, my lady?”   You swivel on your heel. “Take care of her for me, will you?”   He smirks. “Of course.”    //   “The story fits,” Detective Jeon tells you as you flip through the documents detailing his findings. “Her mother grew up in London but went to Middlesborough to find work in 1868. The same summer your father went to Middlesborough for work. She passed away during childbirth. ”   You can still remember that summer — you were eight and it was the first time your father left for three whole months. You spent your summer with Taehyung and his father.    “How did she end up in Lennox?”   “The orphanage she was left at shut down seven years ago and the orphans were brought to other orphanages in Trulia. In this case, it was St. Andale’s.”   Your father must’ve found out, maybe through a letter the woman sent, perhaps someone told him. But it doesn’t matter. It’s enough to explain why he would donate so much to the orphanage and how she has a twin pocket watch to yours.   You wonder if your mother knew. If she did, she probably wouldn’t have said anything. It’s not like your father tried to bring her home either. Maybe that’s the reason he left everything to her, maybe he felt a sense of guilt and this is his way of repenting and making up for the neglect.   “What do you plan to do now,” Detective Jeon asks.   You turn your head to him. “Do you think I’m going to kill her?”   It goes quiet and the corner of your mouth curls.    You answer your own question. “No. I won’t.”   Perhaps it’s the sympathetic part of you, but she has no part in this. She has no blame.   You always imagined your sibling to have lived a happier life than you, blessed with their ignorance, without the burden of status. Yet, there to receive the wealth you have spent so long protecting. Perhaps it was envy and anger that conjured such an image in your head. But you didn’t expect your sibling to be worth feeling sorry for. She and her mother were abandoned, and she’s been without family her entire life. It’s harder this way — you can’t be angry at her.   The only person to blame is your father.   “I’ll be sending you over a generous sum as promised. Thank you for the work you’ve done.”   The detective smiles boyishly and tips his hat. “Any time. My services will always be available whenever you need it, Miss Y/N.”   “Hopefully I won’t,” you quip back at him. “I’m quite tired of digging into people’s histories.”   “The secrets never end.” Detective Jeon’s doe eyes twinkle and Taehyung sees him out.   Once all said and done, silence fills the room and you find yourself once more at a loss of what to do. It’s not like you had a plan to begin with. You merely wanted to find who your brother or sister was and get to them before your relatives could. Back then, you didn’t know if you wanted to try to cut them from the will or give everything to them. And now, you still don’t know.   There's a timid knock at the door that interrupts your thoughts and the knob turns. The gap remains small, but you see Rose peeking in.   “Is there something the matter?”   She wears a nervous expression, gripping fistfuls of her dress and she hesitantly steps inside the room. “I...just wanted to see you.”   You’re sure this is as hard for her to get used to as it is for you. She never had a family and you never considered your relatives family. Even when your parents were alive, they were distant. To you, family has always been Taehyung.   You never expected you would have a younger sister.   “Follow me.”   Rose’s head whips up as you brush past her and her steps struggle to keep up as you move down the corridor. You turn the corner, come to the door on the left and enter. “Do you know what room this is?”   She’s been in it many times. It’s where she poured tea, where you listened to music and where you taught her reading and writing. “It’s your study…”   “No. It’s our father’s study.” The words are odd on your tongue. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to it. “He used to work in here whenever he got home from work. If you wanted to look for him, he would be here.”   If you shut your eyes, you can still see him behind the desk, never once looking up.   Rose steps forward, able to look around more carefully than when she was just a maid. Her eyes trace against the books on the shelves, the clock on the table, the stacked papers and pens.   “Is there something you want to know about him?”   “Wh..what was he like?”   You lean against the wall, humming a low note. “Everyone called him a respectable man. He was good at what he did. He worked hard, so much so that he never ceased his work. But he was an aloof father.”   The young girl nods slowly and turns around. “Do you hate me?”   You look at your half-sibling, eyes dimmed, expression stoic. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be honest with her. “I did.” She flinches and you look away. “I always imagined I would hate my sibling, but unfortunately, I can’t hate you now that I’ve gotten to know you.”   A cold laugh emits from your mouth and never reaches your eyes. “Funny how fate works that way.”   You stroll to the fireplace, arms hugging your body. “The same day my parents were buried in the ground was the same day I received the will. It promised all the assets, the wealth, the company to you. Do you know what it means to be the inheritor of the Arden family?”   You swivel on your heel, eyes fixed at the twelve year old. “It means people will be coming after you. They’ll speak sweetly, let you hear everything you could ever wish for, and then stab you in the back. Some are more honest than others, but you could potentially fall in love with someone kind and generous, and find out years later it was all a front.”   Her eyes grow wide and you continue, “A maid who saved you today could poison you tomorrow. People are greedy and will do anything to get a step up in life. If there’s anything you know best, it’s the pain of being poor, abandoned by everyone and how desperate that could lead someone to be.”   “I...I don’t want to inherit anything.”   “You have no choice. That’s the way it is.”   “Then what can I do?”   You inhale a deep breath, not sure how to answer. But then your mind strays to a certain man with dark hair, a warm voice and a lean frame who never fails to be by your side. “You find people you can trust.”   “I trust you,” she says within a beat and it startles you. She didn’t blink, didn’t even need a second to think about it. It’s spoken with a kind of sincerity that you aren’t used to from others.   “That’s foolish.”   If there was anyone she should be afraid of, it was you. She’s the black sheep, the illegitimate child, the one who stands in the way of you gaining everything. There are numerous reasons why you should get rid of her and no reason why she should trust you. Yet—   “I don’t think so.” Her gaze is shy but earnest. “You treated me well from the beginning before...all of this.”   “That’s precisely why,” you point out in a cold tone. “I didn’t know who you were. I could just as easily turn my back on you.”   Still, Rose gingerly smiles. Her eyes crinkle and her cheeks puff out. “I have a feeling that won’t happen.”   Your stoic expression wanes away into guilt. She’s naive. But you wonder if it’s such a terrible thing that her world is so rose-coloured when you know what it’s like for everything to have turned gray.   //   Without needing to look up, you can tell Taehyung entered the room. Who else would have permission to come and go without knocking than him, and the way he shuts the door is always soft, his steps even quieter. Your ears are always listening for those small noises.   “Where did you go?”   “I went to pick up the pocket watch from the repair shop. They sent notice that I could come get it.”   “This late at night?”   “Were you waiting for me?”   You can hear the sly smile on Taehyung’s lips and when eyes flicker up towards him, you’re not wrong.   “No.” It’s a lie and by the look on his face, he knows it too. “You’re the one who said you would always be by my side, so I was curious to see you gone.”   Taehyung is amused and you turn your head away from him. “I only left for an hour.”   “You should’ve sent Jimin.”   His smile softens as he approaches with a box in hand and places it on the rounded table you’re sitting by. “They said it was important and if possible, I should come soon, so I thought I would go myself in case something happened.”   “What was it?”   Taehyung gestures for you to open the box. It’s the pocket watch your father gave you in his will and it looks exactly the same as when you first received it. It’s heavy in your hand. “They said while they were repairing the cracked glass, they found out the clock of the watch can be pulled open. There’s a compartment at the back.”   You look up at him, eyes meeting and you pop the front open to the ticking time that’s precise to the second. True as they said, with a bit of effort, the clock opens. And out falls a folded square paper, no smaller than a coin.   Your hand quivers as you rush to unfold it. The letter is aged. It crinkles beneath your fingertips.   You swallow hard, finding your father’s handwriting.   Dear Y/N,   Recently, I went to the funeral of an associate of mine. He was an old friend from back then and helped with the company when it was just myself and your mother. It’s a shame he passed away. Lawyer Kim also has come to ask me about creating a will. I fear I have gotten much older than I realized. Someday, you will come to be surprised at how quickly the years go.   Your mother and I briefly discussed what we wanted for you when the time comes and we are no longer here. It truly made me realize how much of a burden things will be. Your mother reminds me that you have always been a strong child and I must agree. I hope when the time comes and your mother and I are gone, you will know that we have always thought about you.   Arden Eugene    It isn’t an apology letter. It serves little explanation for why things are the way they are.    Your father never makes mention to the half-sibling you had to search for, doesn’t tell you why he left everything for her, doesn’t apologize or express remorse about being so distant.   But the words are sincere, every sentence his own, filled with his spirit. Your eyes sting painfully as the sound of his fading voice echoes in the recesses of your mind and a lump lodges in your throat.   Taehyung softly calls to you and you feel the warmth of his arms.    He’s by your side as you cry.   //   There’s much for you to think about in the days that follow. You’re not sure how many times the grandfather clock chimes and rings throughout the house, how often someone asks you if you’d like to eat something or drink. Of course, Taehyung is the one who always draws your attention and pulls you from your thoughts, insisting that it’s time to go to bed or you should take a walk outside and look at the roses that have bloomed.   Taehyung always takes care of you when you need him most.   And somehow, the spitefulness sewn deep inside of you has lessened. You can feel it when you look around the manor, when you peek outside to the land of the estate, when you wake in the mornings. An exhaustion you thought of as permanent has begun to diminish.   More importantly, you start to worry how you’ll protect Rose. She’s nothing but a scared child and you can only hide this secret for so long. Soon enough, they’ll turn the target onto her.   “Must you protect her?” Taehyung asks.   You know he doesn’t want you to take more onto yourself, to bound yourself to responsibilities that may not be your own. Just as you’d like Taehyung to be free and unrestrained, he wishes the same for you. And it is tempting. To leave her for the wolves, to save yourself, be without obligations, but...   “Yes. I finally found someone stronger than me to continue carrying the Arden name, Taehyung. She can shoulder this burden with me and one day, she’ll be even more powerful than I am.”   It’s simple to assume that she’s an obstacle, in the way of you achieving everything, a smudge to your existence. But after being wrapped in thoughts, you’ve come to understand that the burden of being the sole heir has been lifted from your shoulders. You don’t have to worry if your fragile state ever worsens. With her here, the uneasiness of the future has disappeared.    “Call for Lawyer Kim tomorrow.” The corner of your mouth tugs. “I have a plan.”   He smiles and bows his head. “Understood.”   Your eyes meet again and you place your chin in your palm, arm propped on the table. A smile pulls on your features. “Taehyung.”   “Yes, my lady?”   “How far are you willing to help me?”   “I’ll do anything,” he answers without needing to blink.   Taehyung’s loyalty is undying no matter how many times you ask, but it's been too long since you’ve teased him. He looks far too calm and composed these days for your liking. “Then if I ordered you to strip naked and dance in the city square?”   “I would refuse since it would tarnish your name.”   You scoff lightly and he grins. “If I told you to hold my hand?”   Your arm stretches out towards him and Taehyung closes the distance, coming to cradle your hand gently while he dips his head. “I would be honoured to.”   “What if I wasn’t wealthy, would you still be here?” you ask, voice softening.   “I would.”   “How long are you going to stay here for, Taehyung? I don’t expect you to waste your entire life here.”   His smile is tender, gaze affectionate. “I don’t think it’s a waste at all.”   You scoff again and let go in favour of lifting your arms to squash his cheeks together. His rounded eyes blink and his lips mimic a fish’s.    But rather than a fish, he’s very much like a puppy. Your puppy.   “You know how to sweet talk too well.”   Taehyung’s eyes are the shade of umber. Yet in the candlelight, they warm into a deep hue of honey that you find yourself tempted to stare into for hours on end. Or until midnight when the grandfather clock will chime throughout the manor.   Your hands drop and you lean in to press your lips against his cheek in a soft kiss. You pull away a second later, eyes nervously flickering to him. Taehyung’s visibly taken aback and you clear your throat, diverting your vision elsewhere.    “Carry me to bed.”   It’s just a few steps away — you could walk. But he doesn’t make a single complaint, arms coming to loop around your shoulders and the back of your knees with ease. Taehyung strides over and lays you down on the soft bed, but before he can get far, you tug on the sleeve with a steady command.    “Stay.”   “It wouldn’t be proper.”   “It doesn’t matter.” You muster more of your strength to pull him and he smiles.   “Very well.”    You let him go to blow out the candles and he tugs off his coat, draping it over the back of the chair. You realize it might be uncomfortable for him without his nightshirt, but he doesn’t once protest, so you watch as he loosens the top buttons of his shirt and the ones at his wrist.    You don’t know why you feel so nervous all of a sudden. From time to time, the two of you slept in the same bed as children. But you suppose it’s been a long time since you were children.   The sheets of the bed shift and the bed dips with his weight. You turn your head, vaguely able to see his silhouette with the moon’s cool light coming through the curtains.   You grip the edge of the covers. “Taehyung?”   “Yes?”   “Shall we tell scary tales?”   You savour the sound of his laugh. “So you can’t sleep and I’ll have to be here for the next few nights?”   “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you murmur and turn your body fully to face him, hand pressed underneath your head. “Taehyung?”   “Yes, mistress?”   Your brows furrow and you deadpan, “Call me by my name.”   It’s silent. His breath hitches and you nibble on the bottom of your lip. When you first met, he called you without restraint until he was taught otherwise. It’s been years since you’ve heard the syllables of your name with his husky timbre.   “Properly,” you add.   “Y/N.” Taehyung shifts his head to look at you in the comforting darkness. He enunciates it carefully, in a murmur, as if he’s afraid there won’t be another chance. “Y/N.”   Your chest warms and heat is brought to your cheeks.   The quietness simmers and your lashes flutter, eyes becoming heavier and heavier. “You don’t have to worry about my reputation or tarnishing my name, Taehyung.”   “I don’t want to cause you harm in any way,” he says.   “I know.” Your fingers come out to gently brush the strands of hair away from his forehead. “But soon, we won’t have to be under the scrutiny of so many or worry what will happen tomorrow. Those things will cease to exist. When that happens, will you still be by my side?”   “Of course.”   “Then it’s my promise to you.”   He smiles faintly, trusting in your promise. “I’ll be patiently waiting.”   The two of you doze off and fall asleep. Throughout the night, Taehyung’s arms reach for you and you nuzzle into him for warmth. It’s the best sleep you receive since you can recall.
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The room is large.   You’re not sure if it’s because all the furniture is being taken, or if it’s from the bright sunlight coming through the windows now that the heavy curtains are gone. Perhaps it was always this large and the clutter was simply too much.   “Please watch the vase.” Jimin, the good-natured man, is fretting over the men. “It is very expensive!”   You never liked this house much. It’s always been dark. The wallpaper is a deep shade, black trim that matches the hardwood. Every inch of this place is ridden with wealth, the golden chandeliers, the ornate carpet to the glass cabinets full of antiques. It’s quite unnecessary.    While each room is filled with memories — from your childhood spent with Taehyung chasing your giggles and your parents striding in and out of rooms — you’re glad to leave it all behind.    You can finally let it go and free yourself from its binds.   “Y/N!” There’s a stampede, the familiar voice of your dearest uncle. You come to the entrance where your aunt and cousin are fervently following after him. A maid has a panic-stricken face but you lift your hand, allowing her to be dismissed. They must’ve seen the movement, heard the news. “What is happening?!”   “I’m selling the land.”   Your aunt steps forward, mouth fallen agape. “What?!”   “I’ve decided this estate has gotten old.” You stand tall, arms behind your back and for once your stoic expression is marred by a smile. “Trulia’s not where I want to be anymore either.”   Hoseok’s brows are furrowed deep enough to wrinkle permanently. “How?!”   You look at Uncle Seokjin. “It might be time for you to reconsider who your favourite niece is.” You turn to beckon Rose over who’s peeking out from the corner of the other doorway. “It’s okay. You should meet them at least once.”   She approaches timidly, dressed in a fine pink gown that only wealth could buy and your relatives furrow their brows in confusion. She steps beside you and you finally give her a proper introduction. “This is my younger sister, Rose.”   “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”   Aunt Marie’s eyes widen. “Impossible.”    “No. It actually isn’t.” You squeeze your sister’s shoulder and she glances at you with a small smile. “I managed to find her and I’m handing all the assets and the land to her as planned. I should fulfill my parents’ last wishes, no?”   The surrounding furniture continues to be lifted and taken out by the shuffling workers to be sold and auctioned — from the paintings to the sofa. All you’ll have by the end is a suitcase packed of some clothing and the pocket watch your father gave. You don’t need anything else.   “But it’s still not possible.” Hoseok’s voice quivers. “She’s not married and of age!”   A man you know well interrupts, coming from the dining room. He clears his throat and everyone turns to regard the suited lawyer. “It is quite possible.”   Your aunt meets him within a single stride. “Lawyer Kim! Explain this immediately!”   Lawyer Kim shifts uncomfortable in his spot, putting his weight from one foot to the next. “Well, it wasn’t particularly complicated, but Y/N, here, has become the legal guardian of her younger sister, thereby, allowing her to collect the inheritance. She can liquidate, remove, expand or withdraw as she chooses. That...includes selling the estate and moving elsewhere.”   Aunt Marie swivels on her heel and practically seethes, “She is still unmarried!”   “We’ve gotten married.”   It’s a husky timbre with a certain warmth to the tone that speaks. The room spins around at his voice, commanding the attention of each person, old and young. But Taehyung’s eyes are met with yours and the corner of his mouth is quirked as he descends the stairs, hand skimming along the banister.    For a second — the thinnest handle of the grandfather clock being taken away ticking — no one breathes.   But then Uncle Seokjin breaks out into laughter. Aunt Marie abruptly turns to Lawyer Kim to confirm what was just said. “Is this true?!”   “Yes, I was there as a witness. They wedded three nights ago at the church. It was a brief but intimate ceremony, I must say.”   Your aunt is completely appalled. She blanches, features crumpled and her head slowly turns to face you as if you’ve committed the greatest sin. “You really dared to marry a mere butler? Y-You should be ashamed of yourself! What would your parents say, Y/N?! What would they do?!”    “It doesn’t matter. They’re dead,” you state blankly. “And he is more reliable than any man I would ever come to know. I would appreciate it if you would treat my husband with more respect. He is a member of the Arden family now.”   Taehyung comes to your side and you take a glimpse of him, a small smile emerging on your lips.   Aunt Marie shakes her head, violated and exasperated at your presumptuous behaviour. “I have no words...absolutely...no words. How dare you.”   “I learned from the best.” You smile at her. “Sometimes you must do dire things when the circumstances call for it. Am I wrong, Aunt Marie?”   But really, this is far from dire. You feel like this is the best decision you’ve made since your parents passing. It will be a new start. All the workers will be paid generously for their time spent here. You know many are sad to part, but they’re happy to see you lively again — at least that’s what Jimin told you as he held his hat to his chest and smiled gently.   “And what about the company?” Hoseok rushes to ask.   You shift to him. “There’s no one more suitable than Mr. Min to carry on. So I’ve sold it to him. I trust that he will do great things with the company and he’s promised me to do so as well.”   Hoseok instantly pales.   Your Uncle comes forward with feigned worry. “Where are you going?”   “I haven’t decided. But it will be a place where you’ll never be able to find me.” You want to go far away to a place where no one knows your name. Where they’ll be no scrutiny, no newspapers. Where you’ll be free of the responsibilities that have plagued your mind and made you ill.    “If you wish to contact me, you’ll have to go through Lawyer Kim first,” you deadpan. “I can’t assure my letters will be frequent as I’ll be somewhere distant, where no one will be able to take advantage of my precious younger sister until she becomes of age and naturally marries. They’ll inherit it together without worry that the relationship was built on greed. I’ll make sure I see myself to that.”   You look at your aunt directly. “I’ll ask as well that you not try to plant someone under my roof as I’ll find out.”   Her mouth draws open, face reddened. “You ingrate!”   Her hand raises, arm extending back. But before she can slap you like she wants and knock your head to the side, Taehyung snatches her wrist. He’s faster than anyone can blink and he clutches her back, glare boring into her skin.   Her teeth grit and she rips back her hand to her chest.   You turn on your heel, looking out the window. “I hope you don’t take this all to heart. I’ll always wish the best for you, Aunt Marie, Hoseok, Uncle Seokjin. That’s what my father would’ve wanted.”   Your aunt shakingly exhales, “I can’t believe this.” At the same time, Hoseok collapses against the wall, entirely stunned and your uncle presses his hand to his forehead.   Your hand comes onto Rose’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. You look at Lawyer Kim who smiles and then your smiling eyes meet your husband’s.   Today’s the brightest morning since you can remember. The grass is verdant, air is crisp and the sky is a strong shade of azure with the sunlight piercing through the wispy clouds. It’s noisy, but you don’t mind so much.
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The train whistles.   The wheels are rolling against the steel rails, chugging along. There’s a bustle inside the cart, families and lovers sitting together, children rushing past. But you watch the storm of verdant out the window, the fields and trees flashing by.   You’re not so sure if you’ll stop at the first platform or the second. But when you do, you’ll take your packed suitcases from overhead and be on your merry way, disappearing into the crowd.   Your eyes stray from the window to the pocket watch in hand. You’re loosely holding the golden chain of the watch, studying it as it swings back and forth. It’s like a clam, but without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. It’s heavy, perfectly new and polished, the time precise.   It’s your most prized possession.   It brings memories of the times your father did look up from his desk at you, when your mother would turn with a smile, how that manor allowed you and Taehyung to run through its halls.   Rose is asleep across from you, eyes shut and breaths leaving her parted lips. She’s much too unguarded, but you’re not sure if that’s something you should try to change or protect.    She tired herself out after being excited to leave Trulia. It is her first time leaving the country after all and she was practically pasted to the windows with wide eyes. You’re happy that you can be here to watch her. It’s still difficult for you to get used to the fact that she’s your sister, but you’re sure with time, she’ll become one of the most important people to you. She is your family.    With a soft smile, you stand and slip the pocket watch into your pocket.   You walk down the cart of the train to the door. It’s heavy to open, but once you do, the wind whisks through your hair and Taehyung turns around.   The three of you chose to sit at the end of the train where there’s a proper place to stand outside and watch the tracks fade away over the curves and horizon. But there isn’t anyone out here aside from, probably because of how chilling the wind is.   You wrap the shawl around you tighter.   “What are you doing here?” Taehyung asks with furrowed brows. “Aren’t you cold?”   You shake your head and join his side at the railing.   He looks at you. “Are you feeling nauseous?”    “A little at the beginning, but it feels a lot better today. Maybe I’ve gotten used to it.”   Taehyung smiles, traces of relief on his expression. Your eyes gaze into the profile of his face, from the dark strands of his hair brushing his forehead to the slope of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow. Sometimes you wonder if you’re in a daze, but you realize you married this man.   You held Taehyung to the promise that he would do anything for you. And in return, you’re fulfilling your own promise — by going to a place where you can be together. Where it won’t matter what he was or who you are.   “I didn’t marry you just to get the inheritance, Taehyung,” you tell him while looking ahead at the passing trees. “It was a way to protect everything I care about. Including you.”   His soft smile is heard in his voice. “I know, my lady.”   You shift on your heel, facing him with a hardened expression. “But that’s not all. I married you, Taehyung, because I wanted to go somewhere new with you and escape the titles that have bounded us to our duties. I don’t want to be treated as the lady of the house anymore. I want us to be equals.”   Taehyung sighs lightly and steps closer to you until your bodies are practically pressed together. He has no hesitance. There’s no longer a worry of anyone watching. “That’s impossible.”   Your face falls.   He continues, “I’ll always feel a need to serve and protect you, Y/N. My father left me with that responsibility. It’s a part of my legacy to care for the Arden family.”   You desperately search his expression. “Then is it impossible to be together? Everything that we’ve gone through together. All this time. Everything that I did — is it really impossible?”   “It isn’t,” he murmurs in a warm voice that you’re taken aback by. Taehyung’s face softens and he lifts his finger to gingerly brush away a strand of hair that tickles your cheek. “Those two things don’t have to conflict. And if that’s what you wish for, then I’ll follow you until the end.”   The corners of your lip tug. “Is that a promise?”   “It is.”   You hold out your hand. “Then join me in making my wish come true.”   Taehyung smiles and his plush lips kiss against your knuckles, swearing his loyalty to you. Not just as a butler, but also as your husband.   The two of you gaze at one another as you lean into him and Taehyung’s arms hold you. It feels warmer than you could’ve imagined and it’s all because he’s here by your side forevermore.   The train rides off into the distance until you’ve blended into the scenery.
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alphadaddyderek · 3 years
Text
Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)
Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.
Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.
He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.
Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.
He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.
Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!
Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.
For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.
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After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.
Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?
Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.
“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.
Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”
Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”
Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.
A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”
“That’s intentional.”
Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.
“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”
Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.
“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”
Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.
Ah, Derek. That won’t help.
“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”
Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.
Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.
Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.
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Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.
It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.
A really bad feeling.
Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.
That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.
“Hello, Stiles.”
“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”
“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”
Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.
“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.
“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”
Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.
Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”
Oh god.
“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”
Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.
Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.
Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.
Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.
Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”
It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.
Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”
Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.
Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?
Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.
“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”
Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.
Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.
“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”
Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?
“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”
“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.
“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.
Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”
Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”
Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.
“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”
Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?
“What?”
“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”
“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”
Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.
“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”
Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”
Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?
“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.
“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”
Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?
Apparently in this one.
Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”
Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.
Very, very weak.
“My room or yours?” Derek asks.
“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.
Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.
Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.
Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”
Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.
“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.
“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?
Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”
Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.
“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?
“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”
Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”
Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?
Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.
Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.
Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.
After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.
“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.
Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.
“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”
“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”
That smarmy little bastard.
Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...
Holy mother of god.
Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.
Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.
“You ready baby?” Derek asks.
“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”
Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.
“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.
Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.
Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.
Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.
After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.
“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”
“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”
Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.
“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.
Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.
And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.
Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.
“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.
Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.
Holy (not) mother of god indeed.
142 notes · View notes
flowerwrites06 · 4 years
Text
break my mind’s eye special — jjk
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Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.
Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 
Word Count: 7k+
Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff
Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 
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Walking through the dark halls of permanently stained apartment building, Jungkook finally stood in front of a familiar number written on the text. He rapped at the wooden door a few times hearing a couple of grunts and rummaging from the other side. He sighed. “It’s me, Hoseok, you don’t have to hide the weed.”
“ Oh! ”
A few locks clicked here and there before the door swung open to welcome a light air of smoke mixed with the stench alone that could make Jungkook high. Hoseok gave him a loose smile, holding onto his arm as a wide grin spread across his lips. “You finally made it!”
Jungkook hummed trying not to grimace too much at the smell as the older male closed the door behind them.
“Come on, tell me…” Hoseok patted his back, prancing towards the couch where the coffee table was exuding smoke.
The apartment was miniscule with one bedroom door open on the left and a tiny kitchen on the right with a window next to the fridge. Another one near the dining table. Walls were a gross green tint and the floors a dull brown with black velvet couches that were ripped a little at the edges. But Jungkook could not complain.
“Tell you what?” The younger male dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to him, burying his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
Hoseok picked his joint back up and hovered it near his lips. “What was prison like?” He sucked in his cheeks causing the ambers to light up at the end before he blew the thick smoke away from Jungkook.
“Like living with a bunch of criminals. What else?”
“So just like old times then.” Hoseok smirked.
Jungkook glanced at the male for a moment before scoffing out a chuckle. “Yeah…pretty much.” Except there was one difference. Every time he pranced with criminals like himself in the past, he was a leader. In prison, he was young, fresh meat. Before he would also come back home to a warm embrace in bed instead of a steel bed alone with a stinky roommate.
“Well it’s all over now.” He blew out another puff of smoke, shifting to rest his head back against the couch. “You can start doing something else with your life. Something different. Not a lot of people like us get that chance.”
For the first time, he noticed a slight sadness in Hoseok’s tone despite being pumped with artificial endorphins.
His eyes flickered down to the coffee table, noticing the burger wrappers and scattered newspapers. One of them immediately caught his eye. Jungkook sat up again, pulling one of them out of the pile, the right corner of his lips twitched seeing the familiar face.
‘ FAMED DESIGNER KIM BELLE RULES TOKYO FASHION WEEK ’
A side by side picture of a model wearing violet and gold ensemble which almost resembled the traditional kimono with a modern, royal twist. The picture on the right showed her. Belle wearing a simple black dress with her gorgeous waves out and a gracious smile spread across her lips.
‘ Twenty seven year old fashion designer Kim Belle takes all the popularity and buzz with her winter designs for Tokyo Fashion Week. Showing her long love for traditional Japanese fashion culture along with an inspiring movement for domestic violence and trafficking victims by showcasing broken chains and kimono style gowns. An elegant mix of grace and fight for personal freedom. Truly an impressive successor to the legend that was Madame Saito and we are definitely going to keep an eye out for more of her daring projects. ’
“She made a big damn name of herself.” Hoseok broke through the thick coat of silence Jungkook had around him.
“She deserves it.” More than I ever did.
The older male searched his expression for a moment, scoffing a little. “Dude, I have to ask.”
Jungkook met his gaze as he leaned back onto the couch again with the newspaper still in his hands. “What?”
“Why her?”
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you—literally could’ve had anyone in the entire country to pose as your fake wife or whatever. But you chose a fashion designer who barely knew anything about you to begin with…” Hoseok shook his head with a light wince. “What was your angle?” Some part of him did not want to believe Jungkook simply blackmailed someone for his own amusement because he knew the man was better than that.
Jungkook wished he had a decent reason to blurt out to him. Maybe he was just inherently evil and wanted to hurt Belle for his own pleasure. Maybe he wanted to fuck her one time just for kicks before dragging her out a little further until it was too much. Maybe he was just sick in the head, wanting to claim a girl who could not say a word against him because her and her brother’s life were wrapped around his finger. Except none of them felt like the truth. “I honestly thought she’d say no.”
“Oh fuck off—”
“Seriously I…” He shrugged a little. “I really thought she was going to punch me and storm out of there with her brother.”
“But the guards wouldn’t let her. I mean—no offense, buddy but you would’ve probably killed her. Knowing you from back then.” Hoseok scrunched his nose lightly.
“She did something ten times more dangerous though.” Jungkook couldn’t resist the jolt of pride bursting in him. “I destroyed her—so she waited until she destroyed me.”
Hoseok chortled a little, voice incredibly raspy. “I wouldn’t call going to jail for your crimes destroying you but sure…”
Jungkook shared a small laugh, nodding as he looked at her picture again. He could almost still feel her soft skin underneath his palm. How her hair smelled when he would hug her from behind as they slept, the way it soothed him to a calmer sleep.
“It’s a thing of the past though…” He tilted his head as his expression turned a little more serious. “…right? No more pulling her into shit she doesn’t deserve?”
“Yeah—yeah, of course.”
“Good…cause Belle’s the star of the city now. One wrong move towards her, you’re back in jail or worse.” Hoseok raised his brow a little making sure there was not a hint of determination on that young face of doing anything stupid. “You don’t have guards or power by your side and Taehyung isn’t addicted anymore. Has a wife and kid…he’s got the dad anger. So he will beat the living shit out of you if you give him the motivation.”
“I know, Hobi.” Jungkook chuckled, patting his thigh gently. “I don’t want her to go through it again either.”
Hoseok hummed a little taking another waft from his joint as he looked out the window, the sky tinted purple. “Alright. I’m gonna go and eat my girlfriend out.” He patted his shoulder, walking up to his bedroom.
“You had to look at the time for that?” Jungkook winced despite the grin on his face.
“Brother, when you’re together for this long, things need schedules.” He walked out of the bedroom with a black duffel bag putting out the joint onto the ashtray. “Food’s in the fridge and there’s Netflix open on the laptop.”
Jungkook waved him off before the door clicked close leaving him in his thoughts. For some reason, all he could do was look back at the newspaper and try to salvage that warm feeling again. The feeling of a true home that could never be.
-
Purple faded into a deep blue across the skies as Jungkook paced around the apartment in his bare torso, scattered with more imperfect tattoos. One cellmate liked doing tattoos because it calmed him down so the younger male did not hesitate much to let him use his skin. He was a nice man who had been thrown in jail for being a drug mule all his life and Jungkook could not help but have a nauseating guilt in his stomach.
Drug mules were essentially trafficked human slaves from Jungkooks’ experience. Their owners use their lives and bodies to transport goods without being detected and usually they start off terrifyingly young or desperate or both. All this service was done for almost little to no money. They were more abused victims than criminals but the legal system were not good at telling the difference sometimes.
Jungkook allowed his body to be used as if giving himself some kind of cathartic relief allowing the broken soul to control something else for a while instead of being controlled. Thus his skin now littered with designs of devil horns, tiger flowers and his own personal request was a tiny print font ‘B’ on his collarbone. No one could truly see it up close but he wanted to feel it there.
Chugging a generous sip from his beer bottle, he quietly observed the night sky glimmering with stars while the city shone in neon. The one thing his mansion lacked was the clear view of how alive everything looked at night.
A knock sounded on the door causing his head to shoot to the side.
Hoseok should not have been home at this hour. Even if he was, the man would not knock in his own apartment.
Jungkook opened the kitchen drawer and brandished a knife before making his way over to the door. Another knock sounded again. It was a gentle knock. Almost shy. But he knew better than soften up so easily. Carefully, he peeked through the peephole trying not to make too much of a sound even though the wooden floors creaked far too much.
His heart jumped right up to his throat seeing the familiar face on the other side. Jungkook almost dropped the knife on the floor trying to focus as best as he could. Was he drunk already? Was he dreaming? Gulping down, he placed the knife on the side table along with the beer bottle and opened the door.
When the view became clear to him, Jungkook let out a sharp breath. “Belle.”
Her hair was shorter up to her shoulders compared to the length in the newspaper picture except she still always kept her natural waves. Eyes a little glazed while her flushed lips spread into a weak smile before pressing them together again. “I-I don’t–I don’t know why I’m here.” Belle’s furrowed her brows a little.
“It’s okay.” He whispered. “Come in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Jungkook smiled even though a small tinge of sadness shone in his eyes.
He opened the door further for her to enter before closing it behind him. Eyes flickered down to her grey sweatpants and frilly white socks paired with a thick sweater like she just woke up from a nap.
Belle kept her back to him for a few minutes, pretending to observe the apartment even though she was really just trying to figure out why she was here. Questions muddled her mind over and over again. Any valid or logical answer. There was nothing. No reason to be standing here when she tried so hard to walk away from him. She did everything to get away. Now she walked right back without any coercion.
Jungkook tilted his head attempting to meet her gaze but decided not to force it too much. “You cut your hair.” A smile twitched on his lips. “It looks nice.”
She absentmindedly touched her waves, breathing out a small chuckle. “Thank you.”
“Uh—how did you know I was here?”
“Namjoon helped me track you down.” Belle mumbled, guilt pooling in the pit of her belly going behind Yoongi’s back like this. She still remembered what Namjoon said when he gave her the address.
‘I’m only giving you this because I know you’re tough as nails…no matter what people say to you…but the second anything goes wrong, you call me.’ Namjoon had become a close friend in the last few years. He had been escorting her back and forth from home to work.
Yoongi had been disallowed to see her after being undercover so he could get a proper therapy before doing field work again. So Namjoon seemed the next obvious choice to take care of her.
Finally Belle turned around to face him, eyes raking down his torso and seeing new designs etched on his skin. Not as precise as the phoenix but still beautiful. “The tattoos look good.”
Jungkook glanced down at his torso with a soft grin. “A friend did them for me.” He met her gaze again even though she quickly averted it, plunging silence back into the room as they waited for it to be filled. ��Belle…why are you here?”
Her body deflated as the question lingered in the air, lump growing in her throat while her knees kept trembling. “I—” Belle closed her eyes. “I mis—I missed you.” She smiled sadly before trailing her glossy gaze away again. “It sounds stupid when I say after so long.” Her voice kept getting constricted from the lump, tears filling at the brim of her eyes. “But I still think about you…I still kept that—stupid letter after all these years.”
A familiar warmth seeped through his veins knowing she missed him but it still mixed with dread and guilt. Jungkook scarred her memories forever with his presence and she was so confused on what it meant. He could see the way she shifted and looked away as if trying to push reality away but face it all the same. “I hurt you a lot. I’m so sorry—if I—if I could do it all over again, I’d do it better.”
“How could it have been better?” Belle shook her head. “We met when my brother owed you a debt.”
Jungkook raised his shoulders. “Maybe we’d have met at your boutique.” He attempted to smile a little at the thought of just walking into that boutique and falling in love the normal way. The happy way. “I’d have flirted with you a lot and you’d roll your eyes at me. We’d travel together to Paris or Tokyo, explore the things we love and eat ice-cream until our stomachs ached.” A tiny chuckle passed through his lips.
Belle had to suck in her trembling bottom lip as tears began escaping down her cheeks. “And?”
“We’d get married…properly. Away from my family, we’d relax somewhere at a beach.” The visions in his mind played without any effort causing his eyes to flood knowing it was all an impossible dream now. “We’d have children…we’d love them so much, Belle—”
She couldn’t hold in the sobs that shook through her body. At the very mention of children, Belle felt a tingle under the skin of her belly, memories of the aches still lingering. “Why didn’t you just take the money?”
“What?” He whispered.
“Why didn’t you just take the money? And don’t tell me it was because of business or keeping up appearances. Why? Why me?”
The ever burning question. Even the interrogators asked them the question. What was the motive to taking in Miss Kim? A lot of people owed you debts. Jungkook only answered with a vague, menial answer that had no real connection to his deeds as a boss.
“It was—it was just an impulse…”
Belle’s expression hardened even though her eyes still looked so vulnerable and broken. “An impulse?” Her voice was small and meek. “That’s it?”
“I didn’t think you’d—say yes.”
Saying it to Hoseok was easy. Saying it to Belle felt evil. Jungkook noticed the darkness clouding over her beautiful features, a mixture of heartbreak and pure rage.
“You put my brother’s life on the line and you thought I wasn’t going to say yes?” Belle winced, tone rising back to its original power. A harsh slap of reality learning that one of the most traumatizing experiences of her life happened because one man had an impulse decision to use his power over her.
“Belle, it was years ago—”
“So why am I still getting nightmares about it?!” She shrieked leaving a tense silence to plunge into the room while her voice still echoed through the walls a little. “W-why h-haven’t I stopped seeing t-that mansion every time I close my eyes? Wh-why do I wake u-up scared that I’m still in that room w-while they watch—” Belle let out a loud, trembling breath closing her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping to her chest from her jawline as she hugged herself tightly.
Jungkook stammered, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat as he attempted to keep his composure. “You didn’t have to come and see me.” He whispered.
“I wanted you to see me.” Belle sniffled shakily. “Staying away from you doesn’t help because you could always push it out. I can’t—I can’t push it out because it’s inside me.”
“You think all this has been easy for me? That I just pushed it out?” Jungkook shook his head with a pained expression as their gazes met again. “Yeah our first meeting was an impulse but that didn’t mean it was always like that. I stopped a lot of contact with my family when you told me you were pregnant. That letter was meant to be the last thing I said to my parents before we left.”
Belle wanted to argue that he just started getting sympathetic after her pregnancy but she would be a hypocrite. Even she felt softened knowing a child was growing inside her. “You wanted to kill the mayor too, Jungkook, how long would that have taken?”
“Overnight if it meant I’d be escaping somewhere with you.” Jungkook spoke without hesitation, still remembering all the plans he had in place for their move.
“But I would’ve lost the baby anyway.” She smiled sadly. “It was natural causes.”
The male took a few careful steps forward, trying not to intimidate her but hopefully close a little more distance between them. “I didn’t just do it for the baby, Belle.” Jungkook sighed. “I did it cause I love you…but I knew we couldn’t be happy if we were at that mansion and I was still running the cartel.”
Belle sniffled. “I wish you didn’t love me.” Her chin trembled, her body tired of brewing more sobs as tears filled her eyes again. “I wish I didn’t love you. Maybe all this would be easier.”
“When has it ever been easy between us?”
“That’s the problem.” She pressed her lips together. “Love shouldn’t be this difficult. Maybe sometimes but—every single day wondering whether what you’re feeling is real…or worrying that something terrible is going to happen if I stay with you for too long.” Features contorted in pain as she stumbled on her feet a little.
Jungkook’s inhibitions banished immediately seeing her trip slightly, rushing to her side and gently holding onto her arm. Before he could say anything, he felt Belle rest her head on his chest. A burst of butterflies soared across his belly having that familiar smell touch his nostrils and the warmth of her body radiating onto his cold bare skin.
They didn’t say a single word as Jungkook properly wrapped his arms around her body, fingers brushing through her soft hair. Her sobs were quiet but her body still trembled and his embraced tightened a little. As if praying that all of her pain could be transferred to him so she did not have to suffer through it all.
Belle should have pulled away the moment he touched her but the warmth was too much. Her body felt heavy against his, melting onto his skin almost like they could join as one. Maybe that could repair some of the damage. Breathing became steady as she allowed herself to relax. A protective part of her still tried ensure she was not too vulnerable but another part said it was too late.
In this particular weakened moment, she was his and he was hers.
-
15 unread messages.
Namjoon: How did it go? Are you good?
Namjoon: Taehyung said you didn’t come home last night.
Namjoon: Belle?
Namjoon: I don’t want to have to track you down.
Namjoon: Please tell me if you’re okay.
Namjoon: Yoongi and Taehyung found out, I’m sorry.
Belle: I’m okay.
Namjoon: Jesus, don’t scare me like that.
Namjoon: Where are you?
Belle: I’m still at Jungkooks’ place.
Namjoon: Okay. Is everything alright?
Belle: I don’t know.
Namjoon: What do you mean? Did he hurt you?
Belle: No.
Namjoon: Just tell me what happened.
Namjoon: Look I’m not Yoongi or Taehyung. I won’t get mad, alright? You can tell me.
Belle: I slept with him.
Namjoon: Okay that’s fine.
Belle: No it’s not.
Namjoon: Did he hurt you or force you or anything?
Belle: No, no it was consensual.
Namjoon: Then I don’t see an issue.
Belle: How?
Namjoon: Considering he’s a former drug lord, I expected far worse things done to you then you two just consensually having sex.
Belle: Are they really angry?
Namjoon: I’ll handle Yoongi and Angel’s handling Taehyung. They’re grown men, they’ll get over it.
Namjoon: Just come back up again.
Belle: Okay. Thank you, Joon.
Namjoon: Anytime.
Belle let out a sigh, chest falling a little as she hugged her phone for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. Eyes scanned the ceiling, a few brownish stains here and there but nothing far too putrid. Her old apartment usually had those stains after a storm. She felt Jungkook shift a little, his arm still resting over her body while his face buried into her neck. It was so easy allowing the warmth to coat their little bubble.
Except it was not a bubble of theatrics. She was not pretending to be Mrs. Jeon anymore. She was a fashion designer with her boutique and Jungkook was a regular man trying to get by in the city. They were two normal people with no real threat to be together but they were here.
The ache between her legs still pulsed a little when she remembered the night before.
The very minute she resorted to hugging him, Belle knew it was going to be difficult to turn back from it. Deep recesses of her mind surfacing up to whisper in her ear that it would be okay just this once.
To feel him again.
To have his head between her legs at this moment, kissing and nibbling on all her sensitive nub while his fingers pads dug into her thighs. Jungkook took his time. Licking a stripe tantalizingly slow, tasting her juices until it was the only remnant on his tongue. He let out a breath through his nose as his lips wrapped fully around her clit, suckling passionately until her thighs closed up around his head only making him moan.
Belle whined against the vibrations on her aching, sensitive skin as her fingers found themselves knotting in his hair. Chest rising and falling she faced the ceiling. Lower belly burned and tightened as Jungkooks’ movement did not falter, shaking his head a little to jolt more of that head-spinning heat.
Bed creaked as Belle straddled him, bouncing at a steady pace while her hands rested on his torso. Moonlight painted her sweat glistening skin through the window. As if the whole city could see her relishing in her own guilty pleasure. Except the guilt was nowhere to be found.
His hand trailed up her abdomen to cup her breasts gently, digging a little into her tender skin to earn a small whimper from the woman. Then he moved up to her neck. Jungkook cupped the side, thumb tracing her bottom lip while the other hand gripped at her shaking hips.
Belle suckled on his digit muffling her moans all the while clenching tightly around his member until it sent shivering tingles up her spine. She hummed in satisfaction as Jungkook groaned at the pressure.
“You feel so good.” He pushed in his thumb a little further watching her slightly drenched curls fall over her face. A smile curled up at the corner of his lips hearing the sinfully loud squelch sounds their thrusts emitted. “So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook whispered. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, wanting to take every second of how she tried to suck on his skin harder every time she dropped down roughly.
“I’m close.” Belle’s words were a little muddled against his thumb. Her thrusts grew desperate and relentless, pussy squelching violently as their incessant moans swirled in the sex scented air.
Bursts of searing heat and unbridled pleasure shook through their limbs, pulsing through her veins as Belle’s movements became sloppy. Jungkook had his head pressed deep against the pillow as his muscles tensed feeling her walls clench around him before he pulled himself out, release spewing out onto his belly. Belle cheekily reached down to touch his reddened member, giggling lightly when he jerked against it.
Jungkook followed with a breathless chuckle of his own as she rested back on his chest, uncaring of how messy they were.
It was the first time they laughed after sex.
Granted it was not much but last night gave her a dreamless sleep. A welcomed type of sleep. They cried, hugged, moaned and laughed. So many sensations all at once was bound to make anyone have such a deep sleep that they do not want to wake up the next day. A wonderful feeling. It would be temporary before her other dreams settle in again but Belle was not going to let them get to her this morning. She wanted to relish in this new, momentary peace.
Jungkook began stirring more, light hum under his breath until he finally opened his eyes to a calming sight. Tired vision still a little blurred but he could always make out her face. “Sleep well?” His voice grumbled despite the smile creeping on his lips.
Belle turned to meet his gaze, mimicking his gentle smile. “Really well.” The curl slowly disappeared from her lips as reality seeped through their comfort. “We can’t see each other anymore. You know that, right?”
He nodded although solemnly. “I know.” Whatever red string they forced themselves to tie around their pinky finger had to separate one day. Even when reluctance settled in. “Like you said, love shouldn’t be as difficult as ours was.” Jungkook shifted so he lay down his back, one arm curled so he could rest his head on top of it.
“I don’t have to leave now though.”
“What, you want more?” Jungkook licked the inside of his cheek as a smirk formed, one of his hands reaching out to gently touch her lower belly.
Belle pushed his hand away with a chuckle. “No…I meant something else.” She pulled the sheets up to cover herself a little, goosebumps forming on her skin when the room brushed a little cold. “Ice-cream. We could get ice-cream.”
A jolt of nostalgia burst through him as he remembered the last time that request was passed between them. Despite expecting a child back then, Jungkook preferred this more knowing Belle was sitting here by her own volition. That was what mattered most. “Yeah…we can get ice-cream.”
-
Tiny slab of pink and mint down the food line of the city. Belle somehow managed to make his black T-shirt and her sweatpants look strangely put together while he buried himself in his hoodie. They walked inside the cute parlor immediately greeted by a kind boy at the counter.
Making their orders, the couple took their ice-cream cups to a booth at the corner.
Thankfully the parlor was empty since no one bought ice-cream this early in the morning so it would be difficult for them to be spotted.
Journalists eventually grew bored of doing stories on Jungkook and Belle’s ‘tragic love story’ but she knew the moment, a single person saw them, it would be chaos.
“Did you have any trouble these few years?” Jungkook asked feeling a sense of joy in his mouth as the sweet taste touched his tongue.
Belle shrugged lightly. “Apparently there was a hired hitman for a while but he was quickly detained. Then a stalker which lasted for a few months.”
“What did he want?”
“Namjoon found out he was a spy for a gang called Pogpungu Pa.”
“Fucking tongue twister.” Jungkook scoffed. “They wanted a large percentage of my cocaine supplies in exchange for prostitutes.” He waved his spoon. “Told him I didn’t work in that line of business so the Don got pissed.”
“Well he’s also detained. Namjoon’s been very quick in dealing with them. Probably happy to be out on the field again with Yoongi still at his desk.” Belle suckled the remnants of brownie bits from her spoon.
“Why is he at his desk?” His brows furrowed.
“Standard procedure, I guess. Every detective is meant to have a few months of therapy and leave from field work. But I’m pretty sure it’s a new thing that the mayor advised.”
“They’ve been doing a lot of things.”
“A lot of good things.” Belle corrected, narrowing her gaze even though her expression was not completely serious.
Jungkook smiled lightly picking up another small scoop of his ice-cream. “You’ve been doing a lot of good things. The Tokyo fashion week.”
Her eyes almost immediately lit up when the topic was mentioned and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel accomplished that he initiated it. “You knew about that?”
“Saw it in the newspaper. It looked good.”
Belle grinned from ear to ear, eyes shining in the bright lights of the parlor. “Angel helped me with the movement. She wanted to create a shelter for domestic violence victims like her. So I offered to promote it in the fashion shows.”
“Oh yeah Hoseok told me…Taehyung and Angel, they have a kid, right?”
“Yeah…” She giggled lightly. “A little baby daughter.”
“That’s good.” Jungkook nodded with a wide smile. “He’s all okay now?”
“Clean and sober for four years. He—relapsed another time but when they got married and then started trying for children, he never went back again.” Belle murmured still remembering the happiest look on Taehyung’s teary eyed face when he first held his baby. That was all she ever wanted for her brother. True happiness. “I kind have you to thank for that.”
He hummed in disapproval. “Don’t, please—the way I did it was wrong.”
“Yes but everything happens for a reason. I think if that didn’t happen…he might not be here at all.” Belle shook his head. “He also did technically meet Angel in the Sangria House. The only reason we even had her booked was because I met Seokjin at the party with you.”
Strange how time fools you in that way. It makes you feel regretful of the bad things that happened in the past except you could not possibly take them back because it would mean diminishing the good things along with it. Delicate and strange thing time was.
“I would’ve never been free from that place if you didn’t go behind my back.” Jungkook smiled down at the cup. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“Speaking of which…how is it like being a normal joe in the city?” Belle asked with a cheeky glint in her eye as she tapped her fingers against the ice-cream cup.
“Apparently you have to pay for grocery bags now.” He waved his spoon around.
“Yes for recycling and it’s been happening for a very long time.” She smiled.
His bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. “Not from what I remember.”
“Since when have you ever shopped for groceries?”
Jungkook scrunched his nose a little poking into the mint chocolate ice cream to pick out the chips. “Since yesterday.” He mumbled. “But I’m happy…” He nodded letting his words linger in their comfortable silence. “Or at least now I can do things that make me happy.”
“You could travel to Tokyo and Paris, eat ice-cream until your stomach aches…” Belle grinned. “You can get married to someone you love dearly and have lots of children. No more deals though.” She raised her index fingers as a warning.
Jungkook laughed. “No more deals, I promise.” He mixed around his melting ice-cream for a bit enjoying the little swirl. “What about you? What’re you going to do?”
“My therapist said I should take some time off from the boutique when I get the chance.” Belle quoted her therapist mostly but she never really thought about the prospect on her own until she discussed it with Yoongi. “Yoongi suggested we could go to Norway to disconnect for a little while.”
“Yoongi…wait, are you two—”
“No, silly. As friends.”
“Ah.”
“You think if I had a boyfriend like Yoongi, I’d sleep with you again?” Belle scoffed even though a smile tugged at her lips.
“Hey I’m pretty tempting.”
“Not that tempting.”
Jungkook scrunched his nose at her before chuckling as he practically slurped on his ice-cream at this point.
The couple sat in silence for a few moments finishing their breakfast desserts, unable to keep smiles off their faces.
“We go our separate ways now, yeah?” He spoke the truth this time. The satisfaction in his belly along with the warmth in his heart softly stating to him that it was time.
Belle smiled, a slight twinge in her chest but nothing compared to the relief brewing inside. A whisper in her ear telling her it was okay. It was okay to move on. “Yeah. No more looking back.”
Throwing their empty ice-cream cups away, the pair walked out of the parlor towards Belle’s car. Jungkook’s apartment was a few minutes’ walk away. She wanted to drive because it made it that little bit easier to go back home immediately. At this point, they both deserved one thing to be easy.
Belle gave him one final smile before climbing into the car and driving away.
Jungkook didn’t wait a second as he turned on his heel and walked back to his apartment.
This was the true final time they saw each other. They would not turn back. There was no need to anymore.
-
As soon as Jungkook walked into the room, it smelled a whole lot more different than it did the first time. The only smoke emitting was from the pan exuding a warm, delicious scent. Morning sun beaming through the windows making it look a tad bit brighter and the floors almost shone clean now.
“There you are!” Hoseok announced with a grin. “Did you go out for a jog?”
“Yeah…a little bit.” He answered absentmindedly.
A figure with short, black hair stood at the kitchen counter setting some bacon and eggs up on the plate. She looked up and immediately give him a similar bright smile as Hoseok.
“Ah—this is Rosyne.” Hoseok touched the womans’ shoulder. “Rosyne, Jungkook.” He gestured over to the younger male.
The two exchanged greetings before Hoseok invited him over to the kitchen counter to have breakfast. He wanted to tell them that his stomach was a little full from the ice-cream. But it felt so peaceful when he saw the giggles shared between them while eating, random conversations that no one really cared about but it made them smile.
Jungkook stayed still for a moment watching them so easily be vulnerable and happy around each other. “Hey, you guys want to go to Paris?” He sat down on one of the stools.
Rosyne’s eyes widened a little as the request lingered in the air while Hoseok looked amused but taken aback at the same time.
“Why the sudden interest?” Hoseok chuckled, sticking his fork into some scrambled eggs.
He shrugged. “Might be cool to disconnect for a little while.”
“Prison wasn’t disconnecting enough?”
Jungkook nudged his arm with a light scoff. “You know what I mean. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I’ve—always wanted to see the Louvre in real life.” Rosyne raised her shoulders, giving Hoseok an adorable smile.
“Don’t spoil him, Ros.” Hoseok glanced at the both of them for a few moments before letting out a defeated sigh. “We’ll think about it.”
Jungkook did not argue any further after that and began taking careful bites of the breakfast even though it might give him a stomach ache later. The thought of something actually exciting happening this year or the next year made him happy enough to keep going on this new life.
-
Carefully padding into the apartment, Belle’s footsteps were soft and barely echoed across the walls but there was no use in being discreet. Especially since Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon and Angel were all in the sitting room. Bloom sat on the floor completely focused on banging her little drums that Namjoon gifted her on her first birthday.
Once Angel looked her way, everyone else followed suit. Yoongi was the first one to shoot up to his feet and stomp towards the woman.
“What took you so long?” Yoongis’ words sounded more like pleading than anger. “Are you hurt?” Eyes frantically examined her body until his gaze darkened as he stopped at her neck.
Belle hovered her hand over the patch of skin that definitely had a few purpling marks scattered but she kept a calm expression. “Everything’s fine, okay? Nothing happened.”
“No something happened.”
“Yoongi, fuck off.” Namjoon grabbed his shoulder and led him to the side. “Good to have you back in one piece, B.”
As the two men sat near the paneled windows muttering a few things to each other, Belle caught another figure coming towards her from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath keeping her gaze on her brother.
Taehyung looked so much taller now. Loose emerald shirt with golden vectors as opposed to the old black hoodies, his eyes were a little darkened from exhaustion but this time it was to take care of his baby rather than an accidental bender. The serious expression on his face added more to the fact that Belle had her older brother back. He was sturdy in his appearance and confident in his stance. The look of a man who had gone through a tunnel of hell and found happiness at the end of the trail.
“How’d it go?” He asked.
“Pretty civil…” Belle nodded, playing with her fingers a little. “…considering the circumstances.”
Taehyung hummed in approval. “That’s good. And that?” He waved his index finger across his own bare neck while looking at hers. “Good or bad?”
“Good.” She smiled faintly. “Really good.”
He grimaced a little. “Gross.”
“Shut up.”
Taehyung could not seem to keep his serious expression as a light chuckle broke out of him, shifting on his spot to loosen up. “But—no more, right? We’re gonna try to get back up again? Start over?” He would be the last person to ever judge Belle for her impulses. What he did know is that the impulses were not meant to be a constant.
Belle did not hesitate to nod. “I uh—I wanted to go to Norway. With Yoongi…” She glanced over to the side seeing Yoongi give her a more apologetic look which the woman smiled in response. “And maybe you guys too? Get away from the city for a while.” She shrugged. “Might even give me inspiration on the new line.”
He thought on the idea for a moment but quickly had a wide grin on his lips. “Angel’s been talking about going on a holiday. We could talk about it over breakfast.”
“Let me just go freshen up.” Belle patted him on the shoulder before making her up the top level of the apartment to her bedroom.
Being the owner of a prestigious boutique came with its perks when she managed to get a big enough apartment for three people including safety for children. It was in the highly populated areas of the city which is meant to be the best area for the position they were in. With Angel’s first husband and Belle’s connection to the Jeon Cartel, the more witnesses around them, the better.
Walking into her bedroom, Belle had one thing in mind before going to shower as she opened her walk-in closet. On the top shelves a box had been hidden under some folded sheets. She reached out and pulled it towards her feeling the light trickle of dust flow through the air making her sneeze.
Sniffling a little she brought the brown box and sat down on the bed with it. Belle paused for a moment, a very light tinge of dread brushing through her but there was a strength that seemed to power through it. Taking a deep breath she clicked open the box. Two tiny yellow shoes on the right hand side causing her to let out a shaky sigh, smiling a little as a few tears filled her eyes.
Belle held the shoes gently, hugging them to her chest before placing them on her lap. Then her eyes moved from the bracelet to the piece of folded paper. The warmth in her belly soared again taking the letter, unfolding to reveal the heavy promise scratched across the surface. The promise that kept her up at night for this many years. How much words could impact a mind was both fascinating and terrifying.
No more though. It was time. Something her therapist said to her in one session Belle would never forget.
It’s never about one solid destination of healing. You will never know exactly when you were healed. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important. After that, everything will flow by you…in the future, it will all seem like a dream. But you’ll feel so proud of yourself when you look back, Belle. Even more proud than I am of you now. You’ve done so well and I hope you’ll keep healing.
Belle placed her fingers at the top of the letter and ripped it half, letting out a deep of relief as she put them together, ripping it again. Smaller and smaller the pieces became breaking off like petals from the already withering flowers in her heart. A smile widened on her lips as she let out something in the mixture of a chuckle and a sob, tears freely leaving her eyes. Teeny tiny pieces piled on the bed. Helping to remind her that they were just words after all.
With steady hands she gathered them together and threw it into the bin under her nightstand.
Then Belle took the yellow shoes and walked to the living room.
The group were already settling around the kitchen counter when she arrived. Angel had Bloom in a high chair feeding her some custard looking mush which she seemed to enjoy though slightly confused by the taste.
Belle walked over to where the child was and gently placed the yellow shoes on her socked feet. She could not help but grin seeing how it fit perfectly. Everything happens for a reason.
“Those are beautiful.” Angel gently touched the soft fabric. “Did you make them?”
“I got them from the market years ago.” She softly brushed through Blooms’ thin dark hair as the child tried to peek at what her aunt put on her feet.
“We were just talking about the trip to Norway.” Taehyung spoke up leaning against the counter next to Angel.
“Yeah, why was I not invited?” Namjoon pouted a little.
Belle stammered, chuckling lightly. “It was Yoongi’s suggestion…we can all go together. I thought you wanted to do field work for the rest of the year.”
“Still would’ve liked to be included.”
Bloom squeaked in response to Namjoon’s mumble, bouncing up and down her seat.
“Might need a babysitter if Taehyung wants to get laid.” Yoongi mused.
“Ah, language.” Angel covered Blooms’ ears but the baby only grinned wide looking at Yoongi.
“She’s not going to know what it means.”
“Listen, we’ll go together.” Belle silenced the group for a moment. “Namjoon forgets to take breaks from work anyway so it’d be a good way to force him out somewhere relaxing.”
“Norway does have a low crime rate.” Taehyung spoke.
“So it’s settled. We’re going to Norway and forget about our problems for a month.” Angel announced glancing at each one of them for a nod of approval.
Belle grinned seeing the group dive into their conversations about what to do in Norway and what hotels to book or the sights to see. No worries of any impending problem or event that could ruin everything. It was just peace in the loudest way possible. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important.
She broke for her family once.
Now she was going to keep healing for it too.
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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years
Note
hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!
so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!
Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.
CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3
I've Got You
The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.
You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.
Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.
“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.
“Yeah?”
“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”
You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.
“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”
The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.
“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.
You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.
Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.
A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.
So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.
Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.
The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.
Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.
Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.
“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.
“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”
You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.
“Two. Three.”
Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.
“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”
Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by  tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.
“What?”
“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”
You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.
“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”
Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.
“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”
You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.
“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”
Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.
“Those are the hardest. Kids?”
You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.
“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”
Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.
“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”
“I know.” You lowered your head.
When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.
“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.
“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”
Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.
“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”
You scoffed.
“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”
Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.
“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”
Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”
“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”
You forced yourself to hold her gaze.
“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”
Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.
“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”
A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.
“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”
“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.
Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.
“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.
“What’s happening tonight?”
He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.
“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”
You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.
“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”
“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”
He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.
“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”
Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.
“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.
“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”
Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.
“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”
The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.
“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”
Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.
You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.
“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“Okay. See you later, then.”
“See you.”
Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.
“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.
“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”
“Just a patrol run.”
You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.
“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”
You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.
“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”
“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”
You raised your eyebrows.
“Training to be a soldier?”
“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”
You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.
“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”
“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.
You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.
When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.
-
You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?
It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.
Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.
At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.
Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.
The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.
As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.
Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.
“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”
She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.
“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.
“Y/N… Why?
You sank to your knees.
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”
“You… killed… me.”
She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.
“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”
Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.
“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”
She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.
Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.
Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.
“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”
You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.
“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.
“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”
“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”
The corner of her mouth twitched.
“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.
“Did I scream?”
“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”
You shook your head.
“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”
Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.
“Does this happen a lot?”
You snorted involuntarily.
“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”
“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it��s fine because others have nightmares, too?”
You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.
“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”
She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.
“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”
“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”
You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.
“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?
Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.
“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.
“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.
“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”
Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.
“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”
“You think so?”
“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”
You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.
“Abby?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”
Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.
“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”
The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.
“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”
She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.
“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”
“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”
You rested your head back on her shoulder.
“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”
Abby chuckled.
“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”
You wrapped your arms around her torso.
“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”
She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.
“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”
You smiled to yourself.
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.
At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.
“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.
You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.
You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.
“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”
“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.
It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.
“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.
“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”
“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.
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love-hatred-stuff · 3 years
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Villain's girl } Im Changkyun [monsta x]
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genre: royal/soldier au, vampire au
warning(s): mentions of war(indirect), kind of kidnapping
word count: 1.9k
He, he was perfect, but I just wasn't ready to get involved with him.
I knew I would regret it because we needed each other. But he just hurt me too much. No, actually I really didn't care about myself. Still, I ran away from him again, probably the most unnecessary decision of my life. The only thing that stood in my way was my fear of the gilding of his life. I simply wasn't worth it, was I?
before:...
I was lying on a green meadow that was on a mountain. Hundreds of Lisianthus flowers had grown next to me. I loved them, their scent, their colors and also their sizes. They had a calm effect on me because I had known them since my short childhood.
I've been looking after myself since I was ten years old. My parents? Probably dead. They had left me for a reason unknown to me, but I hadn't thought about it for a long time, because it had racked my mind for the next thirteen years after they disappeared.
Now I was lying here and as far as I knew it was my birthday that day. I couldn't exactly remember that date, but I had celebrated it over and over again on the same day for a long time.
It wasn't a big deal to me as it wouldn't change anything in my life but I was finally eighteen.
The sun had just started to rise, but I wanted to start the day like this, with a quiet hour on my favorite meadow in the morning sun that smiled at me. Unfortunately she was the only one who did that.
Often times I would lie there all night and watch the stars. I was more than lonely, for many years I hadn't met anyone except soldiers who attacked and burned villages, as well as my house eight years ago.
I lost my parents, my house, my food and everything else I owned. Even if it wasn't much, my already small property shrunk even more. But I had to take it for what I was, what I was trying to do.
Despite my health, which had kept up well, I had thoughts of suicide several times. Jumping off a cliff is, eating any branches and herbs. And after a few temptations, I gave up. I couldn't do that to myself yet.
As slowly as possible, I got up to look for something to eat. I didn't really liked to go hunting because I was very fond of animals and hated to hurt them, so I mostly ate berries or mushrooms.
Except once a week, I took my bow with arrow to get me a hearty meal.
When I finally got up on my two legs, I ran and went to my hut, which I had built a long time ago from branches and bushes.
I was there in no time, but something bothered me. Everything was still in its place, but I could make out a musty smell of smoke, which made me cringe.
I looked around silently and indeed, about half a mile away, a huge gray cloud was making its way through the trees.
My heart pounded alarm and without thinking twice, I sprinted in the opposite direction from which the possible fire was coming.
At the moment I didn't care about my growling stomach, nor my hut.
After a while of running I could hear voices in the direction I was walking towards.
I slowly walked slowly in order to be able to listen to every sound, no matter how small. But suddenly a soldier was standing in front of me who looked at me with a grin. I was wearing only a thin, white, yet dirty dress that hung airily up to my knees.
Uncomfortable, that's how I felt. I had never had closer contact with men, how could I (?).
"Well, who do we have here?" The soldier mockingly said.
I just widened my eyes, not to mention my mouth, which had been open since I saw him.
After a short time, more and more soldiers came and looked at me, but I was frozen. People were so fascinating but at the same time so nauseating. The soldier, who was still grinning stupidly at me, stepped closer and grabbed my hand.
"The little one must have forgotten how to speak. But she is breathtakingly beautiful. Take a look at her, guys!" He asked his men to examine me too, which is why they all took a few steps closer.
"Hey!" I heard it from not far away, in the woods.
The one whose voice it was now also ran towards me, which made me take some steps back.
"Don't touch her! She's an innocent one!" The soldier who was now standing in my immediate vicinity.
Fortunately for me, he now attracted the attention that had been on me. He pushed the others away from me, who then stumbled backwards. Then he grabbed my wrist and I felt a heat rise in me instantly, it was a completely new feeling.
I looked into a prominent face with defined cheekbones, which made him look very masculine to me. He looked like someone that could be royal, naturally beautiful.
He looked at me out of his intense brown eyes in which I could have lost myself in, in a matter of seconds.
He raised his hand, pushed a strand of hair out of my face and touched my cheek in the process. All I could do was to stay still like a statue and admire his figure.
His dark black hair that was a little messed up and some strands also graced his face.
A cold but pleasant shiver ran down my spine from his touch. I was fascinated by his looks, it seemed like he looked like a friendly devil. Although his features seemed absolutely flawless, he radiated a dark aura. I couldn't see it but I could sense it. He also had broad shoulders from which two muscular arms protruded. He was looking like a God next to me.
"She really is quite acceptable. Nevertheless, she has to come with me." He pulled me by the arm to the horses, which were not far away at a campsite.
Damn. I should have run faster, now I have to go with them if I don't get a chance to get out of here. I blamed myself silently.
The men were in the majority and clearly superior to me.
The Soldier's grin was quite strong and even when we were already in one of the tents, he was still holding onto my arm tightly. After we I hissed in pain.
Besides all that, I was still totally in shock as it was my first close contact with people in many years.
Suddenly he stopped and took a close look at my body, me not really thinking anything, because I first had to get used to people's behavior and body language.
With his gaze he stopped where he had gripped me tightly to probably prevent me from running away, but slowly the pressure got too big and hurt. Immediately he let go, but he took a closer look at the now yellow spots that adorned my arm.
They weren't the only wounds I had, I kept getting injured and accordingly had blood wounds or scratches all over the place. We were alone in the tent and he finally broke the silence.
"Who did this to you?" He asked, pointing to my wounds, like the blood stain on my dress, over my stomach. At first I didn't know what he meant but then I understood. He meant if I had been hurt by someone else.
"Nobody." I answered clearly and looked up into his wonderful eyes that flashed at me.
"What's your name?" Was his next question.
"Y/n. I think." I guessed to myself.
My name had never been relevant, but I still had vague memories from my childhood and how I was often addressed by that name back then. In the other moment, his gaze softened. He put a strand behind my ear again, as he had earlier. My attention went to his full lips which he twisted into a small grin.
“You are beautiful, Y/n. You will be mine I promise it. Nobody's going to get you." He said with determination.
What did he say? Was that just a compliment? If so, then they sound really nice, but actually I didn't really know what they meant to me. Although I could speak his language fluently and had a good vocabulary to choose from, I wasn't up to date.
"What do you mean?" I was taught to ask when you didn't understand someone, so I did just that.
"Means that we will take you to the palace where you can be sold." He suddenly changed his face and removed his hand from my cheek where it had lingered for a moment.
He had just changed his mind from one second to the other. He wanted me to be his and complimented me, so what now? Now he just wanted to drag me along and let me get sold? Great, I probably wouldn't find a way out on all these soldiers.
"But, to whom should I be sold?" If it was to my advantage I would accept it, then I would no longer be alone and would finally be among people who were equal to me.
"To some rich snob." He simply replied.
I was surprised at his sudden change of heart, but it was the chance for me to finally escape this hole. It had made me sink deeper and deeper until that point. I was redeemed.
"You have to change. We'll stay here one more night before we leave." He stepped away from me and took a white dress down from a kind of drawer, to give it to me afterwards.
A little baffled, I stood there and took the soft fabric towards me. It was soft and embroidered with small flowers.
"Thanks, where should I change and where should I sleep?" I asked briefly.
"Change here. There's a bed back there, behind the curtain. You will sleep with me, I don’t want you to run away." He answered less summarily.
Only after a short moment I could understand what he wanted from me. He was still standing right in front of my feet and looking down at me.
"So I'm supposed to change here and now?" I asked with disbelief in my voice.
"Yes, you should." He persisted.
I suspected he wouldn't give in, so I told him to at least turn around. Then he innocently raised his hands to shoulder height and obeyed my request. When he let his hands fall again, I pushed my dirty dress off my body, which meant that I stood in front of him, completely bare for a moment. Fortunately, he was standing with his back turned to me. But even if not, I would probably have obeyed, because I didn't know whether I corresponded to the typical image of women and had never had unpleasant situations like this before. That's why I never had a reason to be ashamed of my body. But as I stood in front of him I realized how important it actually was to be able to see someone like that.
I quickly slipped into the fresh dress, which clung to my thin body and my delicate curves. It actually looked very pretty, but I could hardly judge it because I still had no taste for fashion.
"You can turn around." I wanted to point out, but my words got stuck in my throat when I noticed that he had already turned around.
I had focused on my dress the whole time and trusted it. Obviously this was a mistake.
-to be continued-
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My Gallant Lad - Part I
So I got a wonderful anon today telling me this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it in 4  parts here. I hope you enjoy it (Lily is very BAMF here but tbh so is James). Set during First Wizarding War...
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James slammed the palms of his hands down on Dumbledore’s desk.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he said, his eyes a hot mess of emotions.
“Get your oafish hands off my desk, now!” Lily said, recovering from the initial shock almost immediately with a flash of anger.
“Your desk?” James said, taking his hands off the desk, nevertheless.
“I’m using it now, yes, I need to get these mission forms finished and signed before bringing them for filing in the Room of Requirement,” Lily said, looking back at James angrily. “What the hell is your problem, Potter?”
“My problem?” James was furious. “I’ll tell you what my problem is, Evans. My problem is that my bloody wife thought it sensible to visit Walburga Black, the same woman who thinks nothing of throwing a Crucio at her children, whose husband tried to kill Sirius, who detests muggleborns, who tried to – oh fucking hell, Lily! What the absolute, ever-living fuck possessed you?”
She had never seen him so angry. She folded her arms defensively and glared back, wondering how he had found out.
“I’ll tell you exactly what possessed me, Potter,” she said coldly. “My problem is my dickhead of a husband who nearly got himself thrown into Azkaban by the Blacks, but then thought it sensible to attend a Black family funeral, and to top it all, decided to call over to chat to Orion’s heir, as you do! Do I need to explain it further? What exactly was I meant to do? Let you read the letter and let you waltz back in there so that bitch could finish you off, once and for all?”
She was standing up now, and he couldn’t quite understand how someone so slender and uncommonly kind could look so intimidating and fierce within the space of a few seconds.
“That letter was addressed to me, damn it!” James said, his voice rising with irritation. “You had no right opening my post!”
“I don’t care!” Lily said, looking more agitated and feeling guilty. “If you think I would have let you just go there, you’re even more stupid than I gave you credit for!”
“You’re a muggleborn, Evans, fucking bloody fucking…” James’ words ran out as he waved his arm about with rage. “You could have been killed, do you understand me? Killed, damn it!”
“Yes, well, so could you, at least I have more sense! Remus and I knew what we were doing!” Lily shot back, feeling angrier by the second.
“You clearly didn’t, Evans! What you did was grossly irresponsible and wilfully sly! I don’t care what you say, you could have been killed, Evans, for fuck’s sake! When I see Moony, I’m going to kill him!”
James made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and slammed his fist against the wall. Damn it, he was furious and livid and scared out of his wits and fucking sick of this shit.
“Remus didn’t have any choice, I told him I was going, and he decided to come with me, surely a safer bet! Don’t you dare drag Remus into this!” Lily said.
“Don’t you dare, ever, ever go behind my back like that again, ever, do you hear me?” he shouted.
“You can scream all you like, Potter, you don’t get to tell me what to do!” Lily said, her voice rising angrily.
“Don’t you dare act like you’re the innocent one in this Evans, for fuck’s sake!” James said.
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Potter!” Lily said. “Get out!”
Her voice was starting to wobble which made her even madder.
“You know what? Fine!” James said, gripping his wand tightly and watching as furious sparks flew from his wand tip. “If you want to tell yourself that this is my fault, if you want to lie to yourself so you can  – ugh! Lily, don’t you dare defend this!”
“I’m not listening to your ranting any longer!” Lily said, slamming the book shut and flinging her quills and parchment into her well-worn bag.
She marched past him, livid and upset and boiling with rage. They hadn’t spoken since. James had slept at his parents’ house for a while and now, with Sirius and Remus gone, James had taken to sleeping in his friends’ bedroom. He didn’t like leaving her with only Wormy for protection. They avoided each other at mealtimes. Peter had cringed and disappeared into the relative safety of his bedroom. There was simply no way he could win if he took sides. They were both still furious.
                                                        ***
“Looks like you swapped into an easy shift,” said Edgar Bones, loosening his collar and placing his cloak over his arm. “Nothing much happening, no handover.”
“Thanks,” said James curtly.
“Lily, James,” Edgar said, tipping his hat at them, sensing something was amiss but too polite to bring it up in conversation.
“Edgar,” said James.
“Bye, Edgar, see you soon,” Lily said, smiling at him half-heartedly.
“If it stays this quiet, I’m going to try going for a kip,” said Frank Longbottom, looking at the fireplace one last time and throwing a blanket over himself.
James nodded absent-mindedly, his left hand restlessly tapping on his thigh, shooting Lily fleeting glances when he knew she wasn’t watching. He hated whenever they fought, and this had been their worst row ever. The night stayed quiet, Lily dozed off on the armchair and James watched her. He was worried about her too, she looked pale and she seemed off her food for weeks now. It added to the leaden feeling of guilt he was carrying. It was his fault. He was right, he was damned well right, and he had nothing to apologise for, but he probably would. Because he knew what he was getting himself into when he married her, didn’t he? And wouldn’t he have done the exact same thing in her place, he told himself for the umpteenth time? He transfigured his jumper into a warm, thick blanket and placed it over her gently, doubling it up and kissing the top of her head tenderly. He watched the magical fairy lights on the tree twinkling merrily. He couldn’t have felt less Christmassy. He fell asleep eventually, having transfigured the rug into a scratchy blanket.
He was woken up by a loud shout emanating from the fireplace.
“You better get your sorry arses down here immediately! I’ve just intercepted intel that a couple of Death Eaters are planning an attack on a muggle school bus in the vicinity of Newcastleton!” Dedalus Diggle’s voice crackled.
“Where’s that?” said James, his voice still croaky from sleep.
“Border between England and Scotland. Dumbledore has left a special portkey in his room that means you should be able to get anywhere, immediately. Hurry! There’s nobody else around.”
“Great!” grumbled Frank, sitting up reluctantly, but shoving his feet into his shoes without hesitation. “Typical Dumbledore, never around when you need him!”
“Get some water and rations and let’s go,” Lily said, standing up and sitting back down rather suddenly.
“Alright, Evans?” James said, with a concerned frown.
“Fine, just feeling a bit sick, probably need to eat something,” she said.
“Maybe you should stay behind?” James said.
“No!” Lily said, forcing herself to stand. “It’s fine. We can’t risk it. It’s children, James!”
James nodded immediately. He wanted to apologise, but not in front of Frank.
“Dedalus, can you try and contact a few of the others in case anyone is available to join us? We’ll be with you in a jiffy,” he said.
“No can do, I’ve also had word of another attack planned in Wales, I’m trying to get in touch with Moody as we speak!”
“Got it,” said Lily, looking at Frank and James. “Don’t worry, we’re on it!”
                                                         ***
“This place gives me the creeps,” said James, peering up at the tall trees.
The air felt thick and heavy, the branches seemed to vie with each other to block out the sunlight, suffocating. Thick moss, grey and faded, clung to everything, dried twigs and branches snapped loudly beneath their feet, disturbing the numerous birds whose harsh cries filled the air, as though spying on them, he thought, watching their acrobatic flight.
“Jackdaws,” he said quietly, moving closer to Lily.
Lily gave him a quizzical look.
“That’s their call - a short, loud, ‘kya’ sound, and they have distinctive, beady white eyes,” he added.
“Is there anything you guys don’t know?” grumbled Frank, shooting James a friendly grin.
“Nope,” James grinned back.
He moved closer to Lily, protectively, feeling a threat in the fabric of the forest, ancient memories, secret and forbidding. He had transfigured the portkey into a muggle leather bracelet, insignificant and worthless to any potential Death-Eaters, which he had placed on Lily’s wrist despite her protestations.
“They must be here somewhere,” Frank whispered, holding his wand aloft. “If we just keep walking, we’ll increase the chances of them seeing us.”
“Let’s split up, I’ll hide in there,” Lily said, pointing to a decrepit, large pine, whose gnarly trunk was rotting and held space for one person. “You two get on higher ground. We can all see the road from here. If you spot anything dangerous, send your signal.”
James’ was an owl hooting, Lily’s was the snort of a frightened deer, Frank’s was the harsh screech of a magpie.
“Alright,” James said, turning to look at Lily, feeling awkward and unsure. “Take care, please.”
“You too,” Lily said, her face unreadable.
“I’m glad Alice isn’t on call today,” Frank whispered after a pause, as they moved on carefully. “We just found out she’s pregnant. Bit of a shock really. Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!”
He looked excited and pleased.
“Frank!” said James. “Wow, that’s… that’s brave of you, and rather wonderful news.”
He didn’t know what to say.
He stopped short.
Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!
The night of Sirius’ twentieth Birthday. They had both forgotten to cast a contraceptive charm. Could that explain…?
“Frank, I forgot something, I need to run back to Lily, go ahead!” James said.
“You okay?” Frank said, seeing James’ face turn grey.
But he was already gone.
                                                       ***
“Lily!” James said, catching his breath.
“What is it?” Lily said, wand ready to shoot.
“Lily, have you done a pregnancy charm?”
“A what?”
“To see if you’re pregnant?”
“No, why?”
They stared at each other for a moment. Understanding dawned on her.
“James,” said Lily, her green eyes searching his anxiously.
“Let me,” James whispered, taking hold of his wife’s slender wrist and turning her palm upwards, he pointed his wand tip at her pulse point. “Gravidam!”
They both watched as James’ wand tip glowed green.
“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, staring at her.
“What does that mean, James?” Lily said.
“It means… it means you’re pregnant,” James said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Fucking bloody fucking…”
Lily’s eyes were wide as his words sank in. As his reaction sank in. She turned away from him and swiped hastily at the tears that fell down her cheeks silently.
“We need to…” James said urgently. “Fucking Merlin… fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Lily’s voice broke as she spoke, her lower lip trembling. “I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean this to happen now, God I really didn’t mean this to… I understand if that’s how you feel, James, but I-“
“What?” James said, turning her around to face him and taking her face in his hands tenderly. “Lily, Merlin, I don’t mean –“
The screech of a magpie rent the air and they both jumped.
“Incarcerous!” numerous voices shouted, as thick ropes coiled themselves swiftly around them, James’ wand dropping to the floor.
“Expelliarmus!” a recognisable voice added, James’ wand flying through the air. “Where’s the other one’s wand?”
“Mulciber,” James said, the blood draining from his face.
“I said, where’s your wand, bitch?” Mulciber said, grabbing Lily by the throat.
“I dropped it earlier on,” Lily rasped, staring back at him defiantly. “I can’t find it.”
“Accio Lily Evans’ wand!” Mulciber ordered, pointing his wand at Lily.
Lily’s wand flew out of the thicket behind them. Mulciber leered at Lily.
“Grab hold of them and set anti-apparition wards around them! And get them to de Soulis Castle, now!” Mulciber said to the other Death-Eaters who surrounded them. “The Dark Lord will be very disappointed to find that it isn’t Sirius Black we have captured, just a useless blood-traitor and a vile mudblood. The information we received must have been incorrect.”
“Shut the fuck up, Mulciber!” James sprang forwards in fury.
“Quiet!” Mulciber said, coming right up in front of Lily and grabbing hold of her Jacket collar. “Or she gets hurt.”
James swallowed.
I tried to laugh about it Cover it all up with lies I tried to laugh about it Hiding the tears in my eyes 'Cause boys don't cry
                                                     ***
The weathered remains of the castle loomed, malevolent, as they crossed the bridge over the moat. Fragments of a tower emerged, the holes in its walls reminiscent of a skull. While the forest around it was dry and parched, wilting and unseasonably warm, as they neared the castle gates mist descended on them. The inside of the castle felt damp and cold. Much colder. Mulciber’s breath condensed in front of him as he spoke, frost clung to the corners of the walls, there were no windows in the great hall.
He had seen this room before… where?
The heavy double doors leading into the main banqueting hall swung open, and four men entered, none of their faces were masked.
“Villiers, Wilkes, Rosier, Snape,” said Mulciber, with a cold laugh. “Your very closest allies, I believe? I failed to retrieve the disowned Black heir, but I found these.”
Villiers and Wilkes giggled. Silence descended as another figure entered the room, the five men bowing immediately. Muciber pushed James and Lily forcefully and they fell forwards onto their knees. James watched as Voldemort approached slowly, with a gleeful expression. He zoned in on Snape, Snape who was watching Lily with terror on his face, before carefully schooling it into neutral.
The room.
McGonagall’s grim tones echoed in his mind.
“So, a group of Death Eaters, who appear to have captured Lily Evans, in an unidentified location?”
Divination class. His vision. He had forseen this.
“Lily,” he said quietly, speaking through his teeth. “Do you trust me to get us out?”
He was sure Voldemort could hear his heart pounding.
“If you have an idea, I’m all in,” Lily murmured, watching Voldemort as he drew nearer.
“Leave it to me,” he whispered.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and locked eyes with Severus Snape.
“Fuck you, Severus Snape! You absolute bastard! Stay the fuck away from my wife, do you hear? Don’t you dare go near her, you fucking piece of shit! I despise you, Snivellus! You fucking coward! Bastard cursed Death Eater! Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” James screamed.
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angstyaches · 3 years
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On Edge
Request from @alliya :
I am loving all your stories! Maybe you could do one with Shayne not feeling good and he has a stomach ache. Hiding it from Charlie and they have a fight since Shayne is super grumpy. Of course they make up and Charlie gives Shayne tummy rubs! 🥰
CW: stomach ache, nausea mention, food mention, disordered eating and past trauma mention, characters having a disagreement (but of course, making up afterwards), bad, BAD self esteem
___
Shayne wanted to throw up so badly. And yet, he really, really didn’t want to. He put one hand on the edge of the bathroom sink – the other was hovering near his mouth – as he tried to steady his breathing. He’d closed his eyes to avoid seeing himself in the mirror; he looked visibly nauseated and didn’t want to psych himself out any further.
Keep it down, he told himself for the fifteenth time. He let out the slowest breath he could manage, waiting for the nausea to pass. Keep it the fuck down.
As soon as it felt safe to open his eyes, he shakily filled his hands with cool water and splashed it on his face. His stomach was killing him – he had to straighten himself slowly to avoid making it hurt more – but at least he couldn’t feel it physically churning anymore. He dried his face and made his way back out to the kitchen, hoping he hadn’t been gone long enough for Charlie to worry.
Charlie was switching on the dishwasher when Shayne stepped onto the kitchen tiles. The air still smelled of the chicken and rice Charlie had made, and Shayne had to slow his breathing again to make sure the nausea didn’t return. As much as he didn’t want to risk Charlie blaming himself – or his cooking – for Shayne’s current state, he was considering telling him about the stomach ache. Sometimes it was hard for him to cope with being fussed over, but Charlie always ended up making him feel better.
“Oh, hey,” Charlie smiled as he turned around. His blue eyes twinkled as he crossed the room. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Shayne replied, panicked. He flinched as he was pulled into a hug. The pressure was unpleasant on his stomach for the first few seconds, but then the warmth from Charlie’s body started to feel good pressed against him, and he leaned into the embrace with a sigh.
“I’m proud of you,” Charlie whispered near his ear.
Shayne’s chest fluttered. “What – why’s that?”
“You sat down to eat with me three times today.” Charlie rubbed his hand over Shayne’s back. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I know it sounds silly, but that feels like progress, right?”
A chill ran down Shayne’s spine, right behind Charlie’s hand.
That was true, even if breakfast had just been coffee and lunch had just been a slice of toast, but the statement still  turned the hug into something invasive and unpleasant. Shayne put his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and pushed him back, putting a few inches between them. A cramp fluttered through his gut and almost made him wince, but he fought through it.
“What the fuck, Charlie?” He felt dizzy as he said it, like he was spinning away from the scene as it was unfolding.
Charlie’s face fell. “What?”
“You’re keeping score of what I eat?”
“I-I – no, I wouldn’t – that’s not what...” A sick, nervous laugh escaped Charlie’s lips as he fumbled a reply. “I’m just keeping an eye on you.”
“No, no, you’re watching how much I eat, and you’re… judging me.”
“Judging?” Charlie scoffed, shrugging helplessly. “All I said was that I was happy –”
“Right, which means that sometimes, you’re not happy with me.” Shayne found himself crossing his arms and pulling them hard against his stomach. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to disappear, he wanted to be gone, he wanted to rewind the past few seconds and start again.
“Look, I’m – I’m sorry,” Charlie exclaimed, though he didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “I just want you to be okay, Shayne! Do you know how much this whole thing scares me? I’ve had nightmares about it, like – like, you have no idea!”
Shayne flinched again, both at his boyfriend’s tone and at the revelation.
“So, yes,” Charlie sighed, a flush of red rising to his cheeks as his eyes started watering. “Yes, I’m keeping an eye on you, and yes, I care about what you’re eating. I’ll be at college soon, and I need to know you’re gonna be okay –”
“If you’re going to treat me like this,” Shayne snapped, fighting to keep his voice from breaking, “then, I might as well be back with…”
He didn’t have to say their names, the vampires who’d raised him, who’d tried to starve him of human food and foster his ability to consume the souls of demons. The people who had made him like this in the first place.
Charlie blinked and choked out a tiny gasp. He looked like Shayne had just driven a knife into his gut. A single tear broke free and lingered high on his cheek.
Fuck. With his arms still held protectively against himself, Shayne turned and left the kitchen, not really sure where he was going to hide. There was nowhere that Charlie wouldn’t find him, if he wanted to. But maybe he wouldn’t find him. Shayne certainly wouldn’t have come looking for himself, after what he’d just said.
He ended up in the front living room, sitting at the edge of the sofa and holding his head in his hands. His chest felt tight and his stomach was knotted in pain, but it was nothing compared to the seared image in his mind, of the look on Charlie’s face when he’d said that awful thing.
If he was left to stew for long, the guilt might have physically dissolved him from the inside out, but he was only there a minute or two before Charlie came through the door.
His socks barely made a sound against the hardwood as he walked, and he was biting his lip.
“Shayne, I’m – I’m sorry for making you feel like I was trying to control you.” He gently sat down on the next couch cushion over, hands in his lap. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m… fucking horrible,” Shayne groaned, rubbing his palms over his face. “I didn’t mean any of that, Charlie, I… I’m sorry. You’re amazing. I love you, and I hate myself, and I shouldn’t take it out on you...”
“No, no, no, stop that.” Charlie turned sideways and opened his arms for another hug, and this time Shayne sank into it like a hot bath. Charlie’s hand went to the back of Shayne’s head, fingers curling into his hair. “I don’t ever want to hear you say you hate yourself, okay? That hurts more than the other stuff because you say it like you really mean it.”
Shayne gulped hard. Why did he always have to make everything so much more difficult than –?
“Okay?” Charlie asked, more sternly this time.
“Okay.” Shayne frowned, feeling another cramp flutter through his stomach. His heart skipped a beat as Charlie pressed a kiss into his hair. What was left of his resolve melted into a puddle. “Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“I… might be slightly on edge because my stomach hurts,” Shayne mumbled, nuzzling his forehead into Charlie’s shoulder.
Charlie let out a sympathetic groan. He was sitting too close to comfortably use his palm, but he brushed the back of his hand over Shayne’s belly. “I mean, you’re entitled to your feelings, lovely, but having a sore tummy never helps. Was dinner too much?”
“Maybe a bit.”
“Okay, that’s useful info for tomorrow,” Charlie sighed, leaning back from the hug so he could see Shayne’s face. He also turned his hand over, so that he was gently cupping Shayne’s belly with his palm. “I’m sorry it hurts now, though. Do you want anything for it?”
“Just you.”
The twinkle appeared in Charlie’s eyes, like it had before things had gotten tense in the kitchen. “You have me, idiot.”
Shayne held Charlie’s hand in place as he sank back into the sofa, tugging Charlie along with him. A soft laugh escaped from Charlie as he got comfortable alongside his boyfriend, fingers tracing gently over his abdomen once his hand was freed.
“Try to relax, if you can,” Charlie urged softly, noticing Shayne was still frowning and gazing into space. “Everything’s okay.”
Even as warmth curled down through the solid mass of pain in the pit of his stomach, Shayne was gritting his teeth against the dark thoughts that tried to tell him he didn’t deserve these gentle, soothing touches. He closed his eyes and breathed through those thoughts, just like he’d breathed through the nausea before; there was a kind, beautiful boy on the sofa with him who believed that he deserved to be taken care of. What right did he have to question him?
He opened his eyes again and gave that boy a tired half-smile.
“What?” Charlie asked, his attention briefly snatched away from his own hands working on Shayne’s belly.
Shayne shook his head. “Nothing, just – thank you for looking after me.”
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whatifxwereyou · 3 years
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Ashes Chapter 14: Calligraphy
Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021
Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader
Warning: This chapter has SPOILERS and some upsetting content (character death) so brace yourself.
A/N: boy oh boy what have we here. smooches, folks. genuinely cried writing this chapter, but also had a ton of fun putting it together! hope you like it!
First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index
You were early to meet with the others in the lobby the next day. You’d finally gotten some greatly needed sleep and felt more like yourself. There was still a cloud hanging over your head of mixed-up emotions but there was no helping that. You’d gotten good at hiding it anyway. No one was there to meet you in the lobby so you went back to the little restaurant attached to the hotel. As you were about to be led to one of the tables, you spotted Cole and Emily waving to you to get your attention.
You thanked the hostess but let her know you would be joining your friends and walked past her.
“Y/N!” Emily beamed and offered you a hug, much to your surprise. You returned it and then took the seat between her and Cole.
“Glad you came to join us.” Allison smiled pleasantly though she looked weary, as if she hadn’t gotten much sleep the last few nights. You imagined this was much more difficult with a family to look after. “We just ordered so if we can catch the waiter then you’ll be right on time with us.”
“Perfect.” You then asked politely how everyone was doing that morning. It was nice to listen to them talk. It was such a normal conversation. Something you’d taken for granted in the past. You’d run from normal conversation for a while there. You’d run from any conversation now that you thought about it. You didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation but that was fine since Cole and his family were happy to talk. Emily showed you pictures that she’d taken while out and about in Los Angeles the afternoon before.
The waiter returned and you ordered granola and yogurt but even as you thought about eating it, your gag reflex kicked in. You just weren’t hungry. In fact, you were a little nauseated at the idea of it. The food was fine and you shoveled it down anyway but weren’t happy about it. It didn’t sit right either.
After you finished eating, Allison and Emily excused themselves to the restroom leaving you and Cole alone and waiting for the check.
“How’s things?”
“They’re about the same as yesterday.” You shrugged.
“How’s nothing?” Cole gave it air quotes this time, a bemused sort of look on his face.
“Are you really bothering me with that nonsense already today?”
“I wasn’t planning to but then…” He pointed to you as though you gave him an obvious reason to. You searched yourself but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.
“What? What is it?”
“I’m pretty sure that nothing left you a souvenir.” He made to push your hair away from your neck and you swatted his hand away. Was he serious? Or was he just giving you a hard time. Had Liu given you a hickey like some horny teenager marking his territory? There was only one real way to find out but any sort of reaction was going to give you away to Cole. Your silence had probably already done that. Cole was looking at you as if to say ‘yeah, nothing’ again. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Hey, I’m not judging.”
“Cole… It’s…”
“I know, I know. It’s none of my business.” He tapped a finger against the table. “Whatever nothing is? It seems complicated. I get that. I’m just trying to help you out before someone with less discretion points it out.”
You sighed heavily and pushed your chair away from the table. “We are going to have words later.” You left money on the table for breakfast. “I have to grab something from my room.”
“Sure you do.” Cole laughed as you walked away. “You’re welcome!” He called after you. You walked into the lobby and found the restroom there, hoping to avoid Allison and Emily in the restaurant. You checked yourself in the mirror which was something you’d avoided doing the past few days.
Huh, funny, you were a little pale even though you felt much better. Maybe you’d hid in the temple too long after everything. You avoided thinking of the reasons behind the word ‘everything’. Sure enough, right on the side of your neck was the bruise-like mark that Cole had pointed out. An unmistakable sign that you’d been making out with Liu Kang. Oh the audacity of that man. After all the drama you had between you, after how complicated it already was, he’d given you a damn hickey.
You laughed, hands on the bathroom counter.
“Fuck.” You had to cover it up. So you went back to your room and covered the mark with makeup. You’d do your best to keep your hair over your neck but changed your jacket to one with a higher collar just in case. Then you made your way back to the lobby and to the restaurant where you found Cole, Allison, and Emily still seated. However, Liu Kang had joined them in the meantime. When you approached, he stood and grabbed a chair for you. Cole couldn’t have looked more amused. Liu bowed to you politely in greeting and then offered you the chair.
“Thanks.” You tried not to sound annoyed but you were annoyed. You couldn’t just yell at Liu Kang for giving you a hickey in front of everyone so you had to pretend you weren’t annoyed which was also annoying. You made casual conversation but you caught Liu throwing you a glance now and then. Eventually you chose to excuse yourself and joined Jax and Sonya in the lobby. Sonya was just as grumpy as you were that morning which was nice. At least it wasn’t just you. She was likely not looking forward to spending more time with Johnny Cage. Jax didn’t seem too keen on it either.
The others joined you in the lobby where Allison and Emily wished you luck and then left to go about their day. Then the group of warriors made their way to meet with Johnny Cage. It wasn’t a particularly long ride but it was long enough that the silence felt awkward. You wondered again why Raiden had sent you all there. There was something he foresaw as a possibility that you didn’t. There had to be. You could see why he would send you and Liu somewhere to sort out your shit but why everyone else?
When you arrived, you found that the house was surprisingly modest. A two-story bungalow standing alone on the side of the highway. Johnny met you out front and greeted you jovially but you checked out pretty quickly. The conversations with everyone were fairly circular. Too many hands in the pot. You enjoyed Johnny for the most part. He was quite funny.
The truth was that your fuse was short that morning and you were better off staying out of the conversation. To you, it didn’t matter how the conversation ended because if Johnny resisted then you were going with the backup plan.
Kidnapping.
A word that you had thought so many times the last few days it was funny. You kind of wanted to make it happen now. Could have been a fun change of pace.
That probably wasn’t healthy.
When you were restless the idea of causing trouble became tempting and this was one of those moments. It was something you could control in a world of things beyond your control. Kung Lao had kept you in check in moments like this. He’d allowed you to cause trouble without actually causing trouble. There was no one there to do that anymore. Except Liu. But causing trouble with Liu was exactly the kind of destructive thing you shouldn’t do.
“It’s beautiful, right?” Johnny beamed next to you, proud of the view of the beach from next to his house. You’d been walking alongside the fence. Where the hell was everyone else? Weren’t they supposed to be talking to Johnny? This was going great. “It’s part of why I bought this place. I know it’s old school for someone like me, but the view? Can’t be beat.” He continued on and on about the things that had drawn him to the house. The smell of the ocean. The moment he’d known it had to be his. The renovations that he’d had to do. It was nice to listen to him drone on, honestly. Had the others already managed to lose him? So much so that he was babbling about nothing to you?
Kidnapping.
You considered this would be a good moment to just knock him the fuck out.
“That’s a great idea. We’ll finish this discussion on the beach. The gate leads right down there.”
“What?”
“You talked me into it, Y/N.” Johnny patted you on the shoulder then walked over to the gate and hollered for the others to follow him. Weather worn wooden stairs led from the gate next to the house and down to the shore. You hadn’t said anything so you had no idea what he was talking about, but fine. The others were soon walking past you. Sonya was grumbling something to Jax who was laughing in response. Liu walked past them all and was the first person down the stairs. Cole stood by the fence, hands in his pockets while he waited for you to join him. He nodded toward the fence. You shrugged and then joined him. You and Cole trailed behind the others.
“Now, hypothetically, if I agree to go on this journey with you then when exactly were you thinking we’d head out? Still unclear how we’re getting there but plane tickets are expensive short notice.”
“Tomorrow. Don’t worry about the flight. We have that handled.” Jax was the sternest negotiator amongst you and had the highest tolerance for Johnny Cage. You thought that Liu was more qualified and understanding at one point, but he was unpredictable now. So Jax it was. He was convincing and for some reason you trusted him immediately. That was not something that often happened for you.
“Yeah, that doesn’t work for me. I’ve got things to reschedule. I’m a busy man, I thought I made that clear.” He went on and on. You were over it. Just knock him out already. You walked past them to an old dusty picnic table in the sand. You’d let the others sort it out. Jax seemed to have it under control for now. Cole joined you at the table.
“Is this about what you expected?”
“Do you think if we let him keep talking until he’s tuckered out then we might get a word in edgewise?”
“I think that motormouth could go on forever if we let him.”
“Well, alternatively, we could just knock him out. Then I’ll call Raiden. Boom. Done. I’ll just drag him.”
Cole chuckled and ran his fingers through his short hair, elbows on his knees. “If it comes to that then I’m happy to help with the dragging.”
“I was hoping.”
Cole clasped his hands together, tapping one foot impatiently. You couldn’t blame him. You’d been given the runaround since you and Liu got there and you were certain it had been more of the same before that. “It’s strange seeing the beach this empty.”
“Rich people.” You gestured to Johnny and Cole chuckled again. “Look at those clouds rolling in. Looks like rain.”
“I didn’t see any in the forecast. Weird.”
“Weirder things have happened.”
Jax, Sonya, and Johnny were arguing. About nothing. You could hear their irate voices from there. Johnny had offended them, apparently. Liu was quietly trying to diffuse the argument but it seemed to be going poorly for him.
“You sneak over there and knock him out. I’ll carry him.” Cole joked. You laughed but when you turned to watch the waves roll out your stomach sunk.
There was a familiarity that you couldn’t shake and you couldn’t turn your gaze away. You got up and walked closer to the water. Even your shoes in the sand felt familiar. You’d walked here before. You’d seen these waves before. Even the clouds were ones you’d seen. Cole was following you.
“What is it?”
“I know this place.” But why? Why did you recognize it? You didn’t know. You just knew that you did. That happened to you sometimes but it had been years. With the visions you’d suffered as a child and the ones you’d had after discovering your arcana it had been a common thing once upon a time. It had been impossible to decipher what was a coincidence or déjà vu without help.
But this didn’t feel right and the drop in your stomach made you concerned enough that you had to say something.
“Liu?” You shouted with some urgency and he snapped his head toward you, stopping the conversation with Johnny with a wave of his hand. He started toward you but before he could ask you what was wrong, what was wrong made itself apparent.
The dark clouds spread unnaturally across the sky and the ocean shrunk back from the shore and crashed against an invisible wall instead of rolling back. Green mist swirled beyond the waves and gathered in a spiral energy. Opening at its center was a mirror of fire and darkness. You could feel the heat of it from there.
Your vision from the roof.
Unlike your vision where there had been a wave of bodies rolling in from the ocean, there were instead monstrous warriors with fire beneath their skin that rushed out of the hellish void behind the dark mirror. Was this why Raiden had sent you all there? Had he foreseen something like this happening? You stepped back into a defensive position and Cole joined you at the ready.
“What the hell is this?” Johnny shouted, lumbering through the sand to your other side, fists in a guard position. You were all ready for a fight. From behind the monstrosities emerging onto the beach an imposing armored man stepped from the portal of fire and green mist. Bald, gray skinned, symbols on his forehead and dark lines traveling up from his eyes, he was intimidating. Power radiated from him.
The monstrous warriors he’d summoned were snapping at you, growling, some holding weapons, others armed only with claws. With a wave of his hand, the monstrosities rushed forward.
You were ready for a fight but stumbled backwards in the sand. The déjà vu left you dizzy. Jax was in front of you smashing the creature that had come for you. You would have rolled out of the way but you appreciated the assist. “Get it together, Y/N!”
You put some distance between you and the others. You could handle the fight but you were better off in the back given what you specialized in. Then it was pure chaos. This was what the vision had warned you about. There was fire and the crashing of metal. Blades sliced and projectiles were thrown. Fingertips turning black, you summoned your arcana into blades and spun them at the ready.
Fire roared from Liu as he fought nearby. Jax was plowing through enemies while Sonya fought back-to-back with Cole who had not yet used his arcana but was doing just fine without it.
One of the monsters came toward you and you ducked beneath its blow then stepped back strategically in the sand. It rushed you and you twisted your blade and sliced the grotesque creature’s face. It roared, spit flying past its lips, then lumbered toward you even as your blade cut through it. You twisted aside and sliced across its chest and the creature fell into a pile of ash but you lost your footing on the sand. What the hell was wrong with you? It was like something had pulled your leg right out from under you but there was nothing there. Johnny helped you to your feet.
The creatures were no match for everyone’s arcana. Even Johnny Cage put up one hell of a fight which you were glad to see. One of the creatures struck him and he faked left, slipped beneath the blow, and then struck it repeatedly then kicked it toward you. “Catch!”
You spun and sliced the creature gracefully, relieved your body was obeying you this time. With a yell, Johnny kicked the creature to the ground. He stepped back into his stance and you grabbed his arm to pull him out of the way of a creature coming from behind him. He stumbled but caught himself quickly. Your blade pierced the monster’s chest and Johnny struck the monster in the face but then shook out his hand in pain. Then with a yell he kicked the creature so it slid off of your blade.
“Chill out, man!” He then targeted the wound your blade left behind and the creature fell to the ground and burst into ash with a comical spin. “Hey, can you do that thing where you duplicate me?” Johnny had nothing but excitement in his eyes.
“Is now really the time?” You laughed, shaking out your blade. Doing so would mean you had to take a back seat to the actual conflict.
“Come on, Y/N! Double Johnny! That’s my next damn movie!” He assured you with a big grin. “It’ll be a hit. No one will know how we did it!” There were more of those creatures coming through the sand toward you.
“You had me at Double Johnny.” You tossed the swords behind you and they disappeared in a spray of ink. Bracing yourself in the sand, you drew Johnny out of ink and had him join him at his side. While you controlled the drawing, you backed up and watched the others to make sure that they were holding their own. Cole had summoned the armor and tonfa of his arcana and was absorbing blow after blow before redirecting that energy back at his attackers.
Liu wielded fire in a graceful dance, holding his own with ease. Jax and Sonya held the front line, trying to make their way toward the man who ordered the monstrosities toward them from the portal by the water.
He made eye contact with you and then a horrible ringing began across the beach. You kept your grasp on the drawing of Johnny but it took tremendous focus not to fall. It was fighting more like you did but it was still doing its job. You dropped to one knee in the sand as the ringing in your head continued. You focused only on your ink and tried to drown out the horrible sound as it deafened you. Then an arm slipped under yours and helped you back to your feet.
“What happened? You hear something?”
“You don’t hear that?” You shouted over the horrid screeching.
“No, just fighting!” He steadied you then let go.
“There’s this ringing!” You shouted.
“There’s no ringing, Y/N!” Cole swung the grip on his tonfa and leapt before you, knocking the creature coming toward you aside, then spinning back and piercing it with the sharp end.
“Fuck this.” You muttered beneath your breath and then, despite the ringing, you drew Cole to join him in battle and together they batted back the flood of creatures rushing toward you. You were going to drive these things back to wherever the hell they’d come from. You stepped further back and drew Liu to join him. There was a deep pain in your chest and you pushed anyway. If you had to sleep for the rest of the evening it would be worth winning the battle.
The ink staining your fingers spread over your wrists and up your arms. You tossed your jacket off and into the sand. You drew Jax and the screeching in your ears was muted by exhaustion. The creatures were falling back, overwhelmed by the duplication of your fellow warriors. You kept scanning the beach to help your creations mimic their fellow warriors. You made to draw Sonya to help finish them off but then something struck you hard in the chest. There was nothing there but the blow was enough to knock you several feet backwards.
As you fell into the sand, you didn’t crash but were instead swallowed by darkness. You tried to fight it but your limbs snapped together and it was like you were bound, floating in a sea of shadow. You could hear combat below you, the grinding of a saw blade, and a familiar voice. It was like someone was controlling your body, guiding you through the wall of shadow against your will. It was like water, you couldn’t breathe.
Then your heart stopped.
You heard Kung Lao.
He was screaming in agony. Screaming for Liu Kang. Your whole body went rigid.
Then you fought to get free. You fought harder than you had ever fought in your entire life. He was screaming in agony and you were in the fight pit, floating above it. Shang Tsung had Kung Lao in his grasp and right before your eyes, you watched the life drain from the face of the man that you loved.
Liu Kang was running to him but it was too late. Anguish radiated from him but as he opened his mouth to scream, you heard nothing but that ringing again. In his last breath, Kung Lao froze. Then, quickly, the scene rewound before your eyes and you were forced to watch it play out again. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. You tried desperately to get to him, but you were trapped.
“You couldn’t save him.” A deep voice whispered, fading from one ear and into the other. “And you won’t be able to save them either.” You wanted to scream, to fight, but you could barely move, could barely breathe. The scene rewound again and you shook all over in terror. Darkness swallowed you and you tried desperately to close your eyes to it, to get away from the screams of the man you loved at the last moments of his life.
You tried to summon your arcana, to lash out like you used to in a panic with spears of ink.
In a burst of energy, you fell through the shadow, limbs free of where they’d been bound. You collapsed in a heap onto something hard and solid but it wasn’t the beach. You weren’t anywhere. You didn’t care where you were. You grasped your hair desperately, sobbing hysterically. Why? Why?
You hadn’t ever wanted to see that!
You didn’t want that in your head!
His last moments alive captured and replayed. You couldn’t help him. You pulled your hair, tried to get a hold of yourself but you couldn’t stop sobbing, couldn’t catch your breath. You were hyperventilating, shaking.
Footsteps approached you but you didn’t get up to greet them. You were helpless, sobbing and curled up on the ground. Whoever it was approaching you stopped right in front of you and crouched. You froze.
It was Kung Lao. You didn’t have to see him to know it was true.
He wrapped his arms around you and you sobbed against him, grasping onto him desperately. He felt so real, warm, and comforting. He was there. But you knew it wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. You could see the last moments of his life repeating in your mind’s eye. His lips brushed against your forehead, one of your fondest memories, something you were sure your subconscious was repeating to comfort you.
“They need you, Y/N.” He whispered. His voice was so familiar and comforting that you clung even tighter to him, your sobs catching in your throat. It hurt. To hear his voice so clearly in your head and know it wasn’t real. “Breathe, please.” His strong hands brushed down your arms to try and soothe you. You nodded and shakily took deep breaths. Even if it was just your subconscious, it felt so real that you took comfort in it.
He left that kiss on your forehead again.
“I didn’t… I didn’t, Kung Lao… I didn’t want to see you die, I… I can’t… I couldn’t… I’m sorry.” You sobbed, covering your mouth. “I miss you so much.”
“I know. I know you do. But you have to wake up, Y/N. I need you to wake up.”
“I don’t know how. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know… I don’t…” You wiped your eyes furiously but couldn’t take your eyes off of him. This was how you wanted to remember him. Not rotting away. “I can’t do this without you.”
“Yes, you can, Y/N. You have to wake up.” He tilted your chin up and just as his lips brushed against yours in a kiss, he was gone and you were alone.
Gasping for breath, you opened your eyes to the tumultuous skies over the beach. Liu Kang was pulling you from the sand and into his arms. It was chaos. There was yelling you couldn’t make out all around you. Green smoke engulfed the beach and your fellow warriors were falling back. Liu scooped you up into his arms but you fought him and he stumbled.
“Y/N! Y/N, don’t! We have to go!” Liu grasped again for you but you fought to get away from him and fell into the sand.
“He’s right, we have to go!” Cole argued and tried to help get you back up. Johnny stopped him.
“Let her do what she needs to do.” Johnny knelt next to you. You were shocked by how much he had chosen to trust you. Now you felt a little bad about the kidnapping thing but you were too emotionally raw to even be sarcastic. The monstrosities were rushing toward you, barely kept back by Sonya’s arcana.
Getting back to your feet, you focused on your arcana. Even if it took every bit of the strength that you had left, you would make them pay. You were furious. The last thing you’d remembered before you fell were the eyes of that man. He’d made you watch Kung Lao die again and again. He had imprisoned you in somewhere dark and he would pay.
You would do this for him.
For Kung Lao.
The ink covered your hands again and spread up your arms. You imagined the world as your canvas, the whole beach your art. You drew around the creatures running toward you and it felt to you that they moved slower than your arcana did. The stone walls that you drew on either side of them popped into existence and then slammed into the sand. They were huge, towering above the creatures. You collapsed to your knees in the sand but Johnny slipped his arm under yours and helped you back up. You made eye contact with the leader of these horrible creatures. He was scowling behind his warriors and then he turned and stepped back into his portal.
With a yell, you slammed your hands together and the stone walls crashed together, crushing every single one of the monstrosities that had come through the portal that was closing behind your arcana. The sound of the ink slamming together was deafening and the ground shook beneath you. Your ears were ringing now for a different reason.
Exhaustion.
You dropped into the sand, only kept upright by Johnny Cage. You sat back on your heels. The ink walls disintegrated and poured like rain into the sand, staining it. The creatures within had fallen to ash. Dark clouds grumbled overhead.
All that remained was the inky silhouette of a man.
Kung Lao.
Vision blurred by tears, you commanded the drawing of him to brush his fingers over his hat in victory. Then he disappeared into nothing. You let your weight fall back against Johnny Cage. He was talking to you but your head was spinning and everything was muted. Liu crouched in front of you and took your hands to help you up. He was talking but you were struggling to even read his lips. You blinked your eyes closed to try and focus. You swatted Liu’s hands away and then pushed Johnny off of you too.
You took deep breaths and regained yourself before getting to your feet. Then there was silence. None of you were sure what had prompted the attack or who had even been behind it. The only thing any of you were sure of was that it was not good.
You were still furious.
“Okay.” Johnny broke the tense silence. “I’ll clear my schedule by the end of the week and we can go. No more questions… well, about that, at least. I have lots of other questions.” He looked to each of you. “That okay?”
“End of the week? Did you see what just happened? We are at war.” Jax argued. You got to your feet and walked a little away from them to let them talk. You shouldn’t have but you didn’t have it in you to listen to them arguing about something that seemed so trivial to you in the moment. You knew it wasn’t trivial but nothing else mattered to you right now.
Sonya joined you closer to the water. “That was impressive.” The blond had her arms folded over her chest. She was scraped up and looked weary but you weren’t worried about her. Sonya had more than proven herself as a warrior.
“Thanks.”
“Couldn’t have done that earlier?”
“Draining.”
“What made you do it?”
“I’m furious.” You didn’t offer any further explanation. The last thing you wanted was to talk about it. You didn’t even want to think about it. But it wasn’t like you could get it out of your head. Who was that man who had done that to you? What were his motives? What good did he think would come of it? Why show you that? Why taunt you? To break you?
“I’d hate to be the one who made you that angry.” Sonya attempted to joke with you but you had zero sense of humor right now.
“I wouldn’t recommend it either.”
Sonya offered you a pat on the back. “Take it easy after that.”
“You too. Clean that up.” You gestured to Sonya’s arm. At least Sonya wasn’t treating you with kid gloves like the guys sometimes did.
“It’s just a scrape.” Sonya assured you. Liu joined you on your other side. The others were close behind now.
“We need to get back to Raiden.” You turned to Liu only for a second. You couldn’t look him in the eyes right now. You could only picture the anguish on his face in those last moments. “They weren’t from Outworld. They were from somewhere else.” Liu was watching you in alarm.
“End of the week is the best I can do.” Johnny spoke over anyone else who may have had something to say on the matter. “It’s only two days away. After that? I’m all yours.”
“That’s fine.” You agreed before the others could argue. If they disagreed then they could argue with you later. You were ready for a fight at this point. You didn’t care what their opinions were on the matter. Johnny had stood by you when you’d needed help even when he didn’t have to. You’d step up for him too. “It’s only two days. He’s right. By then Nightwolf should be up to speed and already training. With any luck it’ll be the leg up we need.”
“Nightwolf? Sounds like a Nordic death metal band or something.”
Sonya swatted Johnny on the back of his head inciting a laugh from Cole.
“Fine. Two days. That’s it. But we’re leaving first thing Saturday morning and if you don’t show up, then so help me, when we find you…” Jax continued to threaten him. Johnny insisted that his word was solid. You didn’t care what either of them said. If Johnny bailed then you would drag him kicking and screaming to China. But you had also accidentally bonded with Johnny Cage and trusted that he would do as he promised. You stepped away from the others, getting closer to the waves.
The ink had faded and so had the ash. The only signs of the battle that had taken place was the dug-up sand from the fighting. You felt Liu walking toward you before he was at your side. His energy was tangible and so uniquely him.
“What is it?” He whispered, voice nervous. “What do you know?”
“I know that I need to talk to Raiden.” You felt heavy, like another version of you sat on your shoulders. Grief. “I don’t know exactly what it is I know. I just know that it’s bad. That man… he’s trouble.” You knew that was vague but you had no other words to describe him without explaining what had happened to you. You knew so little other than a feeling. He had been trying to manipulate you. If that was his intent then he clearly knew nothing about you. All he’d managed to do was make you angrier.
You supposed it had beaten you down but you wouldn’t let it keep you down.
Kung Lao was still alive even if only in your head
Living enough to have comforted you when you’d needed it. The strength that you’d used to crush those creatures had been all because of him. You silently thanked him for watching over you as you admired the waves recovering from the magic of that horrible man.
“I can call Raiden. The others can meet us in China on the weekend.” Liu was terrible at hiding his worry.
You considered his offer but your gut was saying to stay in Los Angeles until you were all leaving. Raiden had to have known that something would happen. He had known you had to be there. Why? You hoped that he could shed some light on the truth of what was happening. This war had become more complex than any of you could have imagined. “No. I think we should wait. But I’m worried, Liu.”
“Yeah, me too.” Liu folded his arms over his chest. The tension in the air couldn’t have been more different than the last time you’d stood together on the shore.
“Are you okay?” You turned to give him a cursory glance. He was covered in soot. No surprise.
“I’m fine.” You felt the smile on his lips. “You’re gray again.”
“Well, I crushed an army.”
“Still.” He wiped the soot off of his shirt fruitlessly. “We should go.”
“I need a minute, Liu.”
“Okay.”
“You can go, Liu.” You didn’t necessarily want him to go but you didn’t want him to sit there worrying about you pointlessly either. You would be okay. Probably could use a nap but you would bounce back from that just fine. It was the rest of what had happened that no one else had seen that would stick with you. Liu bowed his head respectfully but didn’t leave you alone. You had plenty to discuss but you had no words. Cole joined you moments later.
“You okay?” He asked casually and you were grateful that he wasn’t nearly as concerned as Liu was.
“I’m fine. You good?”
“I’ve had worse.” Cole smirked, arms folded over his chest. “You saw something back there, huh?” You supposed that of all the people you owed an explanation to, Cole was pretty up there. He’d been there when you’d realized what was happening and that you’d seen it before.
“Yeah. That happens sometimes.” You weighed whether or not you should elaborate. Later. It wasn’t the time or place.
“Good to know.” Cole offered you his arm. “Come on. We’re heading back. No one feels safe here now.” You took his arm and then started slowly with him back toward the steps leading to the beach house. Liu followed behind you. Your mind was buzzing with anger. He would pay. You would make that man regret putting those visions in your head.
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xbunnybunz · 4 years
Text
always maybe never [wolf keum x reader]
Summary: A story in which you love Wolf Keum, and maybe he likes you back.
Genre: Romance, Angst, One-sided romance
Date: December 27, 2020
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“They took my glasses,” He said.
He looked pissed.
You watched him blankly, taking in his bruises, the scrapes and the blood.
“Did you lose?” It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, and boy does that get him worked up.
“No.” He snaps, louder than before. Maybe be regrets it, maybe he’s tired, but he lowers his volume immediately after. “No. I fucking didn’t.”
Silence falls over the both of you. Over you, drenched, standing over him in a moldy, stinking alley. Over him, shielded from the rain with your umbrella, lip busted and knuckles bruised.
The red and blue lights of a police car soaring through the night carry into the alley. It throws hues of neon colors upon Wolf’s face, he’s so belligerent even like this, you think you might just leave him here.
“If you’re done asking me questions, you can fuck right off now.”
He’s a nasty little thing, but the way his eyes glint like diamonds in the sliver of yellowed streetlights intrigue you.
“How long were you planning to stay here then?”
He doesn’t respond. Shifts half an inch away from you, like he kinda wants you to leave and also not really.
“It’s real cold out tonight.” You say. And he looks seriously hurt, but you don’t say this aloud. You wonder what the fight was about, if it was worth ending up next to a dumpster for.
You move closer, kneel so you’re eye-level with him despite his adamancy to not even glance in your direction. The moon bounces light off his damp hair, first silver, then purple. The city lights tend to play tricks on your eyes.
“Let’s get somewhere warm, alright?”
You present a palm to him, face up and already starting to pool with rainwater.
It hangs in the air for a long moment, long enough for you to begin to retract it. But then he reaches out and grabs it, a large, calloused hand wrapping over your own. Even in the chill of twilight, a warmth blossoms there.
“You’re fucking annoying.” Is all he says.
You roll your eyes and hoist him up to the best of your ability, which included almost dislocating your elbow as he slowly picked himself up. It’s only when the top of his head hits your umbrella do you realize how much bigger he is than you.
“Here, you should take this.” You hold out the umbrella to him. He takes it wordlessly, placing it right between the both of you. He’s shivering, despite his best efforts to hide it, you can feel the tremor of his body when it brushes against yours for that golden split second.
You look up at him, eyeballing the furrow of his brows, the slight twitch of his lip, eyes cast somewhere far into a long distance. Just what was he looking away from?
You make it to a nearby hole-in-the-wall eatery without serious injury. He flops down onto the seat like a wet fish and grills the patrons who look at him funny.
“Play nice.” You hum, moving beside him and drying him out as best you could with takeout napkins.
He grunts and exhales deep and heavy from his nostrils, hair matted to his forehead and neck. You dab at it, wondering if the purple color would bleed like cheap tye-dye. Of course, it doesn’t.
“You have such an interesting taste.” You coo. Fingers find strands of hair and pinch, rolling.
He turns his head slightly to meet your gaze, eyes cold yet burning. Like this hasn’t happened before, like he hasn’t absolutely taken you apart and pieced you back together before.
“I know.”
Just those two words are enough to send electricity down your spine. You pull away before you’re zapped by this high voltage man.
You take a seat but never break eye contact with him.
The low buzz of the yellowed restaurant lights above you hum life into your fingertips, into your ears, into your heart. It’s nauseating to see the dark red and purple bruising on his cheek and browbone.
“You should find some hobbies,” You offer, voice quieter now. “Like knitting, or something.”
Your lips begin to quirk up, but his straight face drains you of that energy.
“Maybe later.” He says, and you remind yourself to start keeping a tally of each time he says that.
“Right.” You look down at your lap and laugh, but it sounds dry. “Let’s eat, and then I’ll bring you home.”
He doesn’t argue.
The next time you see him, he’s got his glasses again. He’s still scuffed from the last fight but at least he can walk straight now.
“Are you alone?” You ask, bumping hips with him behind the slushie machine.
He takes one crinkling bag of chips off the shelf, cellophane crackling under his fingers. There’s a black motorcycle helmet wedged under his arm and he’s got his riding sneakers on.
“Yeah.”
You peek at the door and true to his word, you only spot his motorbike and pedestrians cursing how it was parked.
“That’s rare,” You tease. You’re standing close to him, so you dare to brush your pinky against his. Nearly have a heart attack when he hooks his with yours.
You look up at him but he’s not looking at you. To anyone who wasn’t watching for a sign, he’d just be pondering the selection. But you were watching, always watching for anything. A glance, a flutter, a chance that he was really there with you.
Today, he’s generous. Staring straight ahead, he graces you with a slight upward curve of his lips. Just a bit, just enough to dimple his cheek, just enough for you.
Play it coy. You pull away from him and tiptoe between the fridges with a sway in your step. You pray and pray he’s following you. When you catch sight of his figure in the reflection of a coffee pot, you feel like a million bucks.
“Ah, I wonder what I should get for tonight.”
You don’t mind that you’re in the unthawed hams section because you know he’s not paying attention anyways. He’s just relying on muscle memory while you agonize over all your movements, you’ve both been through this a hundred times.
Right on beat, he asks the question you’ve been praying for.
“Do you need a ride home?”
His shoulders look broader when he rolls them, the red school blazer stretching and falling back into place. He has no idea how mad he drives you.
“Oh, I guess that’d be nice.”
He smirks, a wicked smile.
Or maybe he does.
You love riding on his motorcycle because everything smells like him, but you guess that’s easy when your face is buried in his hair and the crook of his neck.
Every time you wrap your arms around his waist, you hold onto him like you’ll lose him. One of these days, you swear you will. Sometimes you catch him throwing a glance over his shoulder, and sometimes you wonder if today’s the day he’ll finally tell you to let go. But it never is.
The wind whips about the both of you and blisters your cheeks with the cold. He’s slowed down, and you love it because you know he rides like a demon without you.
The city lights zip by you like fireflies in the distance, the glow of commercial buildings dwindling to zero as you enter the residential area. The scrape of rubber tires on concrete pavement makes people peep out their windows, tongue in cheek, before closing the blinds.
“How are you back there?” He asks at a red light, voice muffled from under his helmet.
“Warm.” You lie. Kind of.
His chest moves in rippling motion that might’ve been a chuckle, might’ve been a cough. And he’s off again. Your eyes close and you hold him closer to you, feel his body and heartbeat against yours, breathe in the smell of his cologne, his bodywash. For the few minutes you’re on the back of his bike, there is only you and him in the universe.
It always ends a second sooner than you remember it should, and it makes you wonder if he’s riding faster or if you’re too eager. He shakes out his helmet hair and helps you off the bike like a proper gentleman, rare for someone as unruly as Wolf Keum.
“Thanks.” You say, and peer at him through your lashes, batting them slowly. You’re feeling cold and emboldened tonight, so you’re hoping he’ll take the bait.
He reaches out, long fingers brushing aside your windswept hair. He traces your jaw and it feels like home, like victory, like you’ve almost got him where you want him.
The warm lights of your house illuminate his face softly and silhouettes his more angular, predatory features. It brings out the Wolf Keum you know and you yearn to keep him like this forever, away from the bloody knuckles and broken bones that make him so sharp to hold.
“Do you want to come in?”
His eyes are calm, barely a trace of emotion save for keen interest. You pray to all the gods that he’ll come in just this once, after so many nights of being left empty handed. For a second, you think the heavens have heard you when he misses his cue to shake his head like every other time. His hesitation is dizzying, and the adrenaline that pumps through you overpowers even the motorbike ride.
He ponders for just a second too long, and his phone rings.
It snaps both of you out of the reverie. From where you stand, you can see the caller ID. Donald Na.
Wolf turns away and takes a step towards his bike to pick up the call. You can’t help the hand that goes out after him. When he looks back to you, he gestures to his phone.
“Maybe later.” He mouths.
And you smile and nod, because that’s what you always do. You watch as he pulls on his helmet and gets on the bike, idle chatter falling from his lips and into the receiver. When he drives away, the exhaust from his bike billows behind him and clouds your vision with smoke. You return home without knowing if he’d waved goodbye.
It’s a temperate day when you speak to him next.
You’re sitting in the park waiting for Wolf, shaded by trees and warmed by the sun. You’ve left the remainders of your croissant on the floor and it’s become a meal for a flurry of pigeons, cooing and flocking by our feet. An ant crawls up to your sneaker, confused with the obstruction. You’re entertained by it’s strange dancing for a few moments before a shadow crosses your vision.
“Hey.” He says.
You smile. “Hey yourself.”
He exhales through his nose in a manner that you assume is amusement.
You pat the seat next to you and he eases himself onto it, stretching out his legs and sending some pigeons head-bobbing awkwardly away from him.
Mindlessly, you note that he’s abandoned his blazer today, opting to tie it around his waist instead.
Birds chirp overhead and the grass tickles your ankles. There’s the sound of children laughing and the rushing of a fountain a ways from you.
He’s relaxed. You can tell from the way he’s kicking his feet.
You peek at where his hands are and notice that they’re close enough to feel his warmth, but don’t miss the bandages on his knuckles and forearms.
“You’ve been busy?” You ask. You pretend it’s a joke but it’s not actually.
He raises his arm and regards it as if it doesn’t break your heart to see him like this. “This? It’s nothing. Some shithead thought using a pocket-knife would hold us off.”
Something in your chest twists.
“That’s funny.”
He hums in agreement and you want to choke him for it.
You let the sounds of the park ease your mind and his. Wonder silently if there’s even a point to all of this heartache, this outlandish game of who-gives-less-fucks anymore.
Beside you, Wolf leans back and lets the sunlight wash over his face, his neck, his chest.
His eyes are closed, but you can see his eyelids fluttering slightly, like he wants to look into the sun but the brightness scares him. His messy lavender hair sweeps over his forehead and spills over his ears, just brushing the nape of his neck with soft curls. It’s nearly concealed, but you can see a faint line of a scar peeking out at you. Just past his adams apple, trailing upwards to his jaw. When he first got it, he refused to say where or how it had happened, but you’d be a fool to not know only metal and gems cut so deep.
This isn’t the only scar he adorns. You’ve memorized the marks he has lining his body like constellations; switchblade starry sky and cigarette burn borealis. In the sun, you can see the endless expanse of marks on his skin like a splatter of cursed stars. There’s far too many for you to count, so you turn away and rest your eyes.
It remains like this for a moment longer, but then he says something that surprises you.
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
Your head snaps towards him, blink and situate yourself further in your seat, wondering if you had somehow fallen asleep and wandered into a dream.
Wolf nods once and the action is slow, like he’s still churning the words in his head.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “Everything about this situation is... Strange.”
He picks up a hand and gazes at it, brows furrowed. He clenches a fist and unclenches it, turning it this way and that in the light of the sun.
“But say I do leave, right? Then what will I have left to do? My school life is shot, and no one dares to approach me.”
He drops his hand and looks at the clouds rolling lazily over the blue sky.
“If I leave, what will I have left?”
You almost want to laugh, almost want to cry, or maybe do both at the same time. You want to ask him if he remembers who is speaking to at all, but you cannot find the courage.
Suddenly, he looks in your direction and that peaceful yet painful moment is over. A strange look crosses his face and you can feel him tensing, back becoming just a bit straighter.
As you turn, the sound of a hundred of flapping wings taking off meets your ears. The shadows of pigeons in flight scatter across grass and the park path, crossing over the figures approaching briefly before ascending skyward.
The first foot to emerge from the shadows belongs to a tall blond hair with sharp eyes, followed by three or so other men.
You stare, but he doesn’t spare a glance in your direction.
“Keum, didn’t expect to see you in this part of Yeongduengpo.”
Wolf remains reticent. You look at him but he won’t take his eyes off of Donald.
Donald raises a hand to gesture to Wolf and you don’t miss the way his silver rings glint in the midday sun, all precious metal and shining gemstone. When he speaks, it’s almost a hiss.
“Come, I have last week’s reports to discuss with you.”
He doesn’t move from beside you, but you can hear him swallow thickly.
Donald begins to stroll again, the men beside him following suit. As he passes Wolf, he fails to even regard you and it makes you feel tiny.
A second passes as he holds his gaze with Wolf, it’s a challenge to disobey and it’s not at all unfamiliar to you. Those dreary nights Wolf has spent with you, both a man and a husk of a man, is because of Donald Na. It is within this essential and excruciating second that his behavior either becomes normal or abnormal, dictates whether he steeps deeper into that endless black sea or fights amidst the raging storm.
In this second, you hope he remembers himself, hope he remembers you. Those endless nights you’ve spent picking up pieces of his shattered self, putting him back together and brushing over the cracks with adoration. Those endless nights you’ve spent despairing for him, for yourself, for all the tears you’ve cried when trying to convince yourself this won’t get any better.
You hope that he proves you wrong this one time, hope that in his heart, he knows he’ll always have you.
But when you feel him pull his hand from yours, you already understand his answer.
You’re acquainted with this sensation in your throat, this burning in the back of your eyes. It’s made a home in your heart, barren since the day you ever laid eyes on Wolf Keum.
Still, a final flame of hope flickers within you.
You grab his hand just before he’s out of reach. When he looks back, he’s all sharp teeth and hard eyes but it’s nothing you can’t handle.
“Can we…” You want to speak, but your tongue feels leaden and dry. “Can we speak about this soon?”
Wolf’s face remains the blasé, brows set in a furrow and lips downturned into just the slightest scowl.
To a passerby who wasn’t looking for signs, he may seem apathetic, annoyed, even. But you were no passerby. For Wolf Keum, you’d always be willing. Waiting. Watching. For a glance, for a flutter, for anything that meant you hadn’t been the only one foolishly in love the entire time.
And for a second, you think he regards you with a gleam in his eye, something that resembles sorrow, or regret, or anything else that may ease the stale aching of your heart. But when he opens his mouth, it’s that same damning line again, that empty promise that keeps you stumbling in darkness for a trace of salvation.
“Maybe later.”
It will only ever be Wolf Keum that you allow yourself to be swindled by every time. You promise yourself this. Release his hand, or he pulls it away from you. You cannot tell which came first.
“I understand.” You say, heart breaking again.
You never will.
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madhyanas · 4 years
Text
like the switch to be flicked
“Right,” Din says automatically, not truly believing it — what kind of baby doesn’t cry?
Read this on AO3!
Characters: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Omera.
Rating: G
Word Count: 2k
Warning(s): Implied/Referenced PTSD. Takes place during Chapter 4: Sanctuary. Slight Din/Omera, if you want, but that’s not the focus. No spoilers for S2. 
Notes: this is a prequel to ‘there can be no oceans’, giving context to one specific line. also, not beta-read. :)
masterlist
———
“You’re lucky,” Omera says softly. “He’s an easy baby.”
Din turns his head to her. “What?”
He’s leaning against a wooden post as she sits on the edge of the porch, steadily weaving a new reed-basket. Sorgan’s weather is mild, somehow even milder at dusk, and there’s still enough light that the children are chasing each other around in the grass, shouts of laughter echoing into the blushing sky.
Among them scrambles the kid, squealing at all the attention being lavished upon him. A smile swallows up his wrinkly little face, and Din can see he likes having company to play with.
“Your little one,” she clarifies, without really clarifying anything.
Din thinks he’s missing something. “What do you mean… an ‘easy’ baby?”
Omera turns to look at him curiously, eyes flitting over the helmet. She opens her mouth to speak, before a realisation seems to strike her and she visibly changes tack. Din thinks he’s missing a lot of somethings.
“Oh, it’s nothing. It means he’s a happy child, that’s all. Doesn’t fuss very much.” She gestures her head in the children’s direction. “I haven’t heard him cry since you both arrived.”
Din blinks, taking a second to process that. She’s… right.
The kid hasn’t really cried at all, not even before they landed on this planet. On Arvala-7 or Nevarro. He assumes that the kid’s never been into hyperspace before, so making the jump — a phenomenon he’s seen rattle grown adults — should have bothered him. As it was, all the little womp rat did was stare, transfixed by the blue lights, babbling quietly.
Din frowns. Is— Is that normal? Aren’t babies supposed to cry?
He hadn’t particularly thought anything of it. In the capacity of a distant stranger, Din has heard babies cry before; with their whole body, wailing their lungs out like the galaxy is falling apart right then and there. The Child hasn’t made much noise beyond occasionally cooing and whining to signal what he wants.
Omera has returned to her weaving, concentrating on the basket in her lap. Din is reluctant to ask her, but he needs to know. For the kid’s sake.
“Is he… supposed to?”
“Hm?”
“The kid. I don’t— I don’t know what he’s supposed to be doing.”
Din sighs. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing, either.
This doubt, this blind stumbling through the dark — it weighs heavy on his chest. Stirs something nauseating in his gut, a flash of frozen fear he hasn’t felt since his first shootout, so many years ago. Din doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to the Child. He’s aware of that. But it doesn’t make the feeling any less foreign or worrying, at the very least because he’s dragged this magic-powered lizard child along as a fellow fugitive and he doesn’t even know what to do with him.
He needs to be told what to do.
Humming thoughtfully, Omera doesn’t look up from her weaving. “Well,” she says, “He is a baby. They don’t generally do much. Except sleep, eat and—”
“Cry?”
The interruption is hard, the sharpest he’s spoken in weeks. Din feels sorry as her hands pause in their craft, but he stays quiet. He’ll apologise after dinner.
Omera looks up, her mouth set in a careful line. “Usually, yes.”
Din thinks about that. Usually.
“You don’t need to worry,” she continues. It’s reassuring but Din doesn’t feel reassured. She must be able to tell; her brow falls sympathetically. “He’s of a different species. It’s entirely possible that crying isn’t… the go-to, for younglings of his kind.”
“Right,” Din says automatically, not truly believing it — what kind of baby doesn’t cry? — before realising that must sound curt. “Thank you. That’s… a great help.”
She waves him off with a smile. “I was a new parent too, once.” Her gaze drifts to the children, now enthusiastically teaching the kid some sort of rhythmic clapping game. Her eyes, brown and warm, crinkle affectionately. “We all get the jitters at some point.”
New parent.
Din doesn’t know how to respond to that. So he nods slowly, showing as much gratitude as he can, before getting up and walking away.
———
By nightfall, he’s scooped up the kid from the gaggle of children by the pond to bring him to bed. He was met with resounding complaints, a dozen round faces begging him for five more minutes, until more villagers came to fetch the other children as well.
“Had fun, kid?”
Freshly-bathed and dressed, he gurgles at Din. Din doesn’t trust the little womp rat to somehow pick up his body weight in dust and mud if he’s left on the ground, so he carries him with both hands to the crib carefully.
An empty crib. Omera had been generous, offering it to them with the room. Din remembers how it reflected the morning light; just wiped down, freshly polished. As if it had been collecting dust all this time, and had been dragged out to see daylight once again. There was something wistful in the way she ran a hand over the wooden railing. Smooth, well-carved. Well-loved.
And now it’s theirs. For the time being.
Din leans over the crib, lowering the Child to the blanketed mattress below. But the moment one clawed foot touches the sheets, the kid jolts. Flinches so strongly his ribcage rattles against the leather stretched over Din’s palms, making him freeze too.
The kid whines, his blunt nails scrabbling at Din’s gloves. He lifts his legs as high as he can, half-folding in the man’s hands, apparently desperate not to touch the bed.
“What?” Din asks worriedly. “What is it, what’s wrong?”
The kid’s distress makes him straighten immediately, still holding the Child directly over the crib. The suddenness of the movement makes the muscles in his lower back seize painfully. He ignores it.
Distance soothes the kid somewhat — his legs go back to dangling in mid-air and his ears droop from standing at attention — which is good. Except it isn’t, because Din still doesn’t know what happened.
“Is it the crib?”
He brings the Child closer to his chest, examining the thin bedding carefully. With one hand, the other holding the faintly-shaking child, Din searches through the blankets for anything that could’ve spooked him. Lifts the small mattress for good measure, finding nothing but lint and a sparse wooden pallet.
He hesitates. “There’s… nothing there,” he says slowly, trying not to cause an upset.
The kid shakes his head vehemently into Din’s chest, flopping one ear in a muffled pat against the pauldron.
“No, hey. Look.” As delicately as he can, Din pries the Child off his shoulder and turns him around to face the crib. Slowly, precariously. His hands are almost hovering off the kid’s body.
He angles the Child downwards, but keeps his distance for now. Big, dark eyes glare at the crib distrustfully. Stubby legs start to kick up and down, as if to mechanically propel himself and Din as far away from the contraption as possible.
“That’s not gonna work,” Din explains patiently.
The Child grumbles something under his breath, like he knows. The frown remains.
Din sighs. At least the kid has calmed down somewhat. Cranky is easier to deal with than tears.
Tears. Tears. There aren’t any.
And suddenly, Din feels nervous all over again.
Because there were Mandalorian children who didn’t cry. Other foundlings who, before swearing the Creed, never came close to tears even when they got injured in training. Even when instructors and teachers very gently told them it’s all right to cry if they wanted to. Blank-faced, like a switch was flicked the second they felt any urge to get visibly upset. Some children just… didn’t.
Another thing he hadn’t thought anything of at the time, being just a boy himself. But he thinks about the dusty stronghold where he found the Child, guarded by armed mercenaries. Not even a nanny droid assigned to the crib-pod, just Niktos with blasters. He thinks about the Client sending out the puck, the stormtroopers snatching hold of the pod, the bounty hunters tossed onto their scent.
Fifty years is a long time. And now a stone, sulphurous and sharp, begins to sink in his gut.
Arms outstretched, Din looks at the Child. Face-to-face. Metaphorically speaking.
“It’s…”
Now that he’s started, Din doesn’t really know how to continue. He doesn’t even know if the kid can understand him, tilting his wrinkly head and blinking sweetly. But surely he must. So Din swallows, then decides to rip the bacta patch off.
“It’s okay to cry, you know. If you want to.”
Again, the kid blinks. His dark, shining gaze doesn’t falter. Din chooses to take that as encouragement.
“I know you… don’t, right now. And that’s also okay, if you don’t want to. But if you do, then— then you should.”
This isn’t coming out right at all. Din sighs again; heavier this time, with a longer pause afterwards.
When he finally speaks again, he can hear how tired his voice is. On some level, it feels like a failure. “What I mean is,” he murmurs, bringing the Child a little closer, “Crying is good.”
Three words. He can manage that. He can.
“Crying is good,” he repeats. As if to make them concrete here in this gifted space and borrowed home. There’s something hot and choking resting in his throat. “Crying is… good.”
And maybe three words, three times, is enough. The kid nods.
A little bob of his head, subtle but intentional. Din almost thinks he’s imagining it since the kid has made a comfortable habit of ignoring him at every turn.
Then it happens again. The kid nods again, staring at Din with such pinpointed clarity and understanding that ‘fifty years old’ comes racing back to the forefront of his memory.
For lack of anything else to say — and because he’s reasonably sure that his point has been made — Din says, “All right. Good.”
The Child hums agreeably, swinging his legs in the air. Now it's more idling than protesting. That’s good. “Good,” Din repeats dumbly.
He’s… taught the kid something, here. Hasn’t he? It seems like he has. Or is that not how this works?
In twice as many minutes, Din sighs for the third time. Three seems to be the lucky number tonight. His shoulders are sore. The bed on the other side of the room looks pretty appealing right now.
Taking a step towards the crib, he hopes this little chat has helped the kid work through whatever was bothering him.
Then the kid squeals once he realises where he’s being carried. Apparently not.
“What— No, you have to sleep here.”
Din gets a firm shake of the kid’s head in response. And leaning over the crib once more means his back has decided to protest again too.
“You do.”
He shouldn’t allow it. It’ll make for bad habits. He needs to be strict.
“C’mon, kid—”
A coo, soft and despondent. The Child pouts — which shouldn’t even be possible, since he doesn’t have lips — and those big, big ears drop with the weight of bricks.
It’s for show. It has to be. He’s being manipulated.
(Dank farrik, his back hurts.)
This isn’t setting a good example. But it’s late, and he’s tired, and the kid is too used to getting his own way to back down before an old man like him. Ultimately his resolve gives out with his lumbar, as it had to be.
He retreats to the bed, sitting on the edge. In his hands, the kid tries and fails to hide his excitement, a sharp-fanged smile gracing his face. “Yeah, you little monster, you win.”
A moment of hesitation as he deliberates whether to remove the armour or not. He decides to lie down as it is.
“Just for tonight,” Din warns, reclining on his back with the Child balanced on his stomach. “This can’t be a habit.”
The kid, infinitely satisfied that he’s gotten his way, wriggles under Din’s arm. He lets out something resembling a purr as his ears lower to the sides, flattening out like a parachute. His eyes don’t close, not fully, but his blinks get somewhat sleepier.
“Okay. As long as we’re in agreement.”
With one arm resting loosely over the Child, Din stretches his legs out. One of his knees almost pops, but not quite.
He falls asleep to the kid’s breathing, steady under his palm.
———
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Text
They meet in a cancer support group au.
I was going to tag this as Kegboys but it doesn’t really apply. Tommy and Billy are brothers that share Steve their relationship with one another is purely platonic, so it’s really just Harringrove + Stommy.
Warning for Cancer. Tommy and Billy are both in remission but still attend a support group, Steve is recently diagnosed. As usual no sad ending cuz I refuse. I’m not editing this, it was supposed to just be like 500 words to get the plot out of my head and it’s gone way over that and I’m tired. It just popped in my head and I needed it out. It’s got some smut in the middle. 
Tommy and Billy are step brothers that spend most of their time sniping at each other during their support group. Their parents met in a support group themselves, they get along, they just like to pick at one another. Then Steve shows up at group one day, fairly new to his diagnosis, nauseated and unsure if it is nerves or his most recent bout of chemo trying to make sure the few crackers he managed to eat come back up. 
Billy starts picking on him instantly when he gets asked to introduce himself and share, both because he is cute and because Billy is maybe a little jealous he still has his hair, even though Billy’s own is coming back in, it is still too short for his own comfort. Tommy keeps coming to Steve's aid each time knowing exactly what Billy is doing and finding Steve attractive as well. Joyce heaves an exasperated sigh, when the two share a look, knowing no one is going to get a word in if she does not do something. 
Steve is perplexed when he is asked to move and take a spot between them, Joyce assuring him it will help all while looking apologetic. Billy edges away from hostile, tells Steve he like his shoes or something and Steve is just 😒 "are you trying to be friendly now?" Billy maybe blushes and shrugs, letting Tommy lay the groundwork. 
Tommy chats off and on with Steve throughout the meeting and at the end asks "You want to come over watch a movie and cuddle? You look like you could use a good cuddle." Steve is  just sort of standing there staring because what? But also he absolutely wants a cuddle. 
It is Billy piping in with "Studies show cuddling can improve your health." That has Steve agreeing even if it does sound like bullshit. 
Tommy hooking an arm around Steve’s waist and leading him out after Steve cancels his ride "You hungry I could go for some pancakes." 
Steve is hungry even if he is not sure he can eat but "I don't like pancakes but I like French toast." The smile Tommy shoots him eases the nerves trying to roll his stomach as they head down, Billy sharing their elevator. 
Steve does not question Billy's continued presence until he gets in the driver seat of the car that Tommy is holding the door open for him. "We're brothers and we share an apartment." 
They explain it a little and move back to bickering as Billy drives until Tommy says "Where are you going man, head to the diner." 
"Nah I make better French toast than the diner and pretty boy don't mind do yah?" Billy asks looking at Steve through the rearview mirror tracking Steve’s tongue as it darts out to wet his dry lips. 
"That depends what kind of bread you use" and Billy grins wide and sharp and Steve’s gut is warm as he squirms a little. The look Tommy shoots him only makes it worse. 
"What kind do you want me to make, name it I'll make it happen." Billy swats at Tommy when he mouths 'like a bitch' at him most of his attention on Steve. 
"Sourdough, with lots of egg." Steve says around a yawn cracking his jaw flushing anew when Billy winks in the rearview mirror at him. 
"You got it princess." Groaning at the hand Tommy slaps across his chest and they start picking at each other again while Steve rests his head against the window sleepy.
They live in the stupid expensive part of town the type of place Steve’s parent had been talking about putting him up in before he chose art school and got disowned for it. Now he lives in a sketchy little apartment across town with his best friend Robin just thankful he is still on his parents insurance. He does not know what he would do if he did not have their insurance to rely on, glad they did not go so far as to cancel it on him.
"You want to grab a shower? I'll scrounge up some clothes that should fit you for the cuddling." Tommy offers once they are in the apartment and Steve thinks about refusing because it is kind of weird, they hardly know each other but also he does not want to cuddle in what he is currently wearing and he always feels kind of icky after being out so he just gives a tired nod. 
He is led to one of the bedrooms and let into a big bathroom, Tommy saying he will find him something before disappearing to who knows where. Steve eyes the bathtub with desire, only a standing shower in his apartment but he gets into the shower unwilling to overstep any invisible boundary no matter how lax they appear to be. By the time he gets out he finds clothes waiting for him, a soft pair of sweats and a hoodie that Steve pulls on borrowing the deodorant on the bathroom sink.
Tommy and Billy both are showered and changed by the time Steve ventures out going pink at having taken so long. Billy is in the kitchen cooking up food and Tommy is on the couch flipping through a streaming service waving Steve over as soon as he spots him. Steve walks over, hands hidden under the sleeves nervous and unsure, Tommy just pulls him down and manhandles him with a "This okay?" Steve nodding because yes and just melting into the couch with the weight of another person against his side, one arm thrown over him and Tommy's chin pressed into his hair, it is more than okay its really fucking nice.
Steve is half asleep when Billy settles on the couch and there is a plate full of French toast being waved enticing in front of him. Steve mumbles, he is hungry like actually hungry for the first time in days but he is also so fucking tired and content right where he is. Someone chuckles and there is a hand carding through his hair. "It’s okay pretty boy, I know you're tired, I got you open up."  Steve is confused until there is a tap on his jaw and there is a bite of French toast in his mouth and Steve could not be happier.
Steve does not eat much but it is more than he has been able to manage in days. Tommy and Billy just share a pleased grin as they both finish eating and curl closer to Steve while watching the Hobbit for the hundredth time.
It becomes their thing, they have a meeting and after Steve is always invited to come home with them for a cuddle and food and he always accepts. They still snipe in meetings but it is more just targeted at one another instead of picking on whoever is talking and Steve actually starts looking forward to those meetings. Having Billy and Tommy there, two people he knows helps him feel more comfortable with all of it, makes it not seem so scary every time. 
Until Steve is too sick to go, dead tired from another round and aching miserably tossing and turning in bed instead of comfortably curled up between Tommy and Billy on their couch that is definitely more comfortable than his old bed. Robin has come in and checked on him a few times but no matter how much he wants it he does not ask her to cuddle knowing she is not big on touch and though she would probably do it for him he knows she would be uncomfortable the entire time.
There is a knock on his bedroom door and Steve groans as it opens and light comes in his eyes hurt even with the dull light. "Hey dingus you got company. I know you're not really up for any but I think you'll want me to let them in." Steve does not give an answer, just groans again and tries to bury his head under his pillow until gentle hands are moving him around.
A shuddering breath leaves Steve as he is boxed in-between two walls of heat soothing his aches and hands are carding through his hair. "You didn’t come to group Stevie, we got worried." Tommy mumbled against his cheek.
"Use your phone next time." Billy grumbles arms tight around Steve, face hidden in his hair. 
Steve mumbles out a tired “Sorry” so glad they are there as he finally drifts off to sleep after a night and day full of restless tossing and turning.
They start hanging out more than directly after groups, Steve nearly always at their place, sleeping in one of their beds, more often than not tucked between the two. Steve is tired but he is having a good day when things shift, when Tommy lays kisses against his neck and asks “Is this okay?” 
Steve squeaking out a “yes” trying not to give away how eager he is, how often he has thought about this, trying not to think about Billy who he has thought about just as often somewhere in the apartment. Tommy fucking him hard and fast, clothes still mostly on too excited to get them all off himself or Steve. Steve spills all over the couch and Tommy’s hand, Tommy managing a few more thrusts before he is cumming and sagging over Steve struggling to get out of his sweater much too hot.
“I’m going to get some water for us.” Tommy says helping Steve get the offending garment off, laying a kiss at Steve’s shoulder before moving back.
Steve’s got his face pressed into the cushions still panting, when he feels a tug on the pants trapping his ankles and starts trying to kick them off at the reminder. “Easy pretty boy, I got you.” Steve is startled to hear Billy’s voice followed by a low chuckle, melting as a hand smoothes over his backside “Let me?” 
Steve gulps at the question but he would be lying if he said he did not want it just as much as he wanted Tommy, still he is conflicted until he hears Tommy call from the kitchen “Give him some water first, gonna dehydrate him, for fucks sake you impatient bastard.” the sound of something being caught sounds from above and then Billy has a hand in his hair encouraging him to rise up.
“Dumbass is right, here drink some of this.” Billy says softly, gentler than he normally is as he tips the plastic bottle to pour into Steve mouth and he could do it himself, he is lax but not weak, he could drink himself but it feels nice being taken care off. “Let me?” Billy asks again once the water is settled back on the coffee table, hands petting through Steve’s hair and over his flank, and Steve wants low grade heat burning in his belly.
“Easy, I got you baby, let me take care of you.” It is slower and softer, Billy shifting Steve to his back before pressing in, laying kisses all over Steve as he slides in slow and deep, a contrast to the speed with which Tommy had taken him apart. Heat building between them, Steve a moaning mess, so close kept right on the edge for what seems like forever with Billy refusing to go faster. 
Steve does not realize he is crying until gentle fingers wipe his tears, does not know when Tommy settled by his head on the couch. “It’s okay baby, just ask, Billy will let you.” Tommy instructs and it takes Steve’s brain a little bit to get what he means, he did not realize that is what is keeping him on edge, did not realize that is what he is waiting for.
Steve cries a little harder, embarrassed by how bad he wants it, words stuck in his throat. “Shush, it's okay baby, come on, all you have to do is ask, I won’t deny you.” Billy pants out nuzzling against Steve’s cheek.
“Please, please can I cum.” Steve gets out words broken up by gasping cries.
“Fuck, yeah baby, cum for me, I’ve got you.” Billy keeps saying that keeps reassuring Steve and fuck if that is not as mind numbing as the orgasum that rocks through him. Billy is still murmuring reassurances among praise as Steve cums back down, a little disappointed that he missed Billy cumming to busy being rocked by his own pleasure. Tommy too, hand running through his hair reassuring him of how good he was for both of them before offering him some water and Steve is just a melty gooey contented mess until Billy moves and he can feel the cum dripping out of him.
“Let’s all get cleaned up pretty boy, then we can settle down for a cuddle.” Billy offers scooping him up.
It becomes a thing, on days when Steve is not terribly sick the both of them taking their turns with him, Tommy always a little rough despite his general nicer demeanor and Billy still surprising Steve with how tender and gentle it always is even if he makes Steve beg for release. Steve loves all of it, loves both of them, spends most of his time in their apartment rather than his own.
Things are good, really good and then Billy is in some sort of mood a little gruffer and a little meaner when he is not fucking into Steve and Steve worries about him but know better than to bring it up Billy has a lot of bark. Steve has finals come and he does not get to see them for a whole week busy trying to get as much rest as he can between each test and studying. 
When he gets to the apartment after his last final only Tommy there to greet him and Steve worries when he notices some of Billy’s things missing. “Billy isn’t here?” He asks gut hollow because Billy had been off and now he is not here and Steve’s mind immediately goes to the worst.
“Hey it’s okay, you still got me, come here.” Tommy says, dragging Steve close when he looks like he might cry, he is an easy crier so Tommy does not think too much on it, just assumes Steve is disappointed he will not be getting cuddles from both of them. Assumes he is crying so hard because of the stress of finals week finally being over. 
Tommy does not even think to mention where Billy is, assumes Billy told Steve. He will be back in a week, Billy had lingered as long as he could before having to catch his flight, but unfortunately Steve had not gotten here until an hour later. So Tommy just assumes the sad mood that takes over Steve all week is him missing Billy.
Billy who is off speaking to the mother he has not seen in years after she left him with Neil who thankfully passed shortly after he married Susan the woman who has been raising him since he was ten, who is more of a mother than Lorraine had ever been. He refuses to take calls from anyone, keeps sending Tommy’s to voicemail because he is in a foul mood, he only went looking for her because she might be a match, he might need her bone marrow if his cancer ever decides it is done with remission. He does not call Steve even though he wants to because he knows he will lash out and Steve does not deserve that. 
Steve is a mess and he does not understand why Tommy would not tell him, why he will not talk about Billy being gone, will not tell Steve what took him, if it was cancer related or something more sudden and unexpected. Steve does not even know when the funeral is, but every time he brings up Billy, tears in his eyes, Tommy just drags him close and reassures him that he is still here, that he is not going anywhere, that it is going to be okay. It hurts but he figures Tommy does not want to talk about it, that it is his way of coping and he tries not to bring it up as much. It does not stop him from digging through Billy’s closet and wearing his clothes around the apartment, curling up in Billy’s bed. Tommy coming in and wrapping himself around Steve with a sad look each night. 
Tommy is out getting breakfast hoping to cheer Steve up some from missing Billy, a little wrong footed with how sad Steve is over his absence. Is on his way back when he runs into Billy getting out of a cab nearly losing the coffee. “You didn’t say you were coming back today.” A little more aggression to his tone than necessary Billy catching it as he looks at the baked goods and fancy coffee.
“What did you do?” Billy asks, it looks like an apology breakfast to him.
“I didn’t fucking do anything asshole, he’s been inconsolable since you fucking left.” Tommy grits out as they catch the elevator together. 
“And you think it means he likes me more.” Billy digs with a sharp grin, would be lying if he said he did not like the idea of being the favorite.
“Oh fuck off.” Tommy practically growls because Billy got it in one.
They are still teasing and bickering with one another as they come in until the sound of a mug hitting the ground startles them out of it. Bill has a clinging Steve in his arms before he can blink, sobbing into his neck, arms nearly too tight and Billy just blinks at Tommy confused because this reaction seems way over the top to him. Tommy just stands there pouting.
“Pretty boy, hey what’s wrong what's got you so worked up?” Billy asks because Tommy is an idiot there is clearly more going on than Steve missing him.
“I thought you died.” Steve gets out between sobbing breaths and Billy and Tommy share a wide eyed look both of them trying to figure out when they mentioned to Steve where Billy was going and coming up empty. Mouthing curses at one another over Steve’s head.
“Tommy was supposed to tell you I was going to be away for the week, what the fuck Tommy!” Billy immediately throws him under the bus before cooing at Steve that he is sorry and he is fine while Tommy gapes at him pissed off he did not think to do it to Billy first. He is comforted by the fact that Steve’s devastation has not been about missing his favorite but he feels really guilty that neither of them told Steve about Billy’s trip.
They end up spending the next week trying to make it up to him and outdo one another.
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sebsunset · 4 years
Text
Creation, Both Haunted and Holy - CHAPTER 2!
I’ve been working on this thing for weeks straight, to make it as amazing as possible!
As always, I am dragging @muffinlance‘s AUs into my work
this is the angsty one :) yUP, the year-old au!
and don’t worry, i have another one in progress... also using a muffinlance- inspired au- one of the more obscure ones, i think!
Mother Hama is. Suspiciously nice to write, and very angsty
TRIGGERS: Graphic-ish descriptions of wounds and child abuse! Please beware, my dudes! Things will get better soon, but this is really really bad right now!
LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578904
OR, READ HERE :) 
In the moon’s light, an urutau-vulture screeches out its song, pure and eerie grief ringing out in the wind.
And that’s how Zuko’s mind briefly comes back to reality.
Awareness fading in and out with each breath he wheezes through.
With wakefulness, comes the purest of agonies. A mouth open, voice too hoarse to scream out for help.
The hot pain, all over him, the memories tugging at his head, the memories of-
The burning. A cleanse that felt so dirty, like-
Oh, the sheer smell of it-
Of him.
The smell of cooked meat is his.
He wheezes out a cough, remembers the time Mom had no servants to help her, and had asked Azula to light up the fire for them to cook.
He tries thrashing about, to get a good view.
Mom ought to be around there, around somewhere.
(Even if it’s been so long since she was last around.)
She must be there, somewhere he can’t see, maybe in the blurry shade of the trees. She will bring a bucket and cool water, and she will hold him and-
“W-Where’s mom?” he tries asking, to nothing, to no one.
But only one of his ears hear it, the raspy, damaged sound that he can hardly recognize as his own voice.
He tries to ask again, words broken, tear tracks he can only feel in one cheek.
The burning pain he struggles to breathe over.
He doesn’t know what happened, but he can’t move. Can’t do anything, nothing but begging for it to go away.
“Where?” his voice comes out, finally.
The pain in his throat finally registers with the blabbered words, and suddenly he feels like he’s been screaming for all too long.
I’m sorry, Larva, says the feeling of hands on him. I’m so sorry it came to this.
Ghostly hands that don’t quite hurt when they touch his left side.
There is no shadow to hold him, though.
He can’t remember what happened, but the questions come to his mind nonetheless.
Why does it hurt so much? Why is his arm numb, why can’t-
Go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe, little Vessel.
The voice is soft, warm.
And, as the moon sings her song, his brief moment of awareness fades off.
Only one eye closing, as he breathes out again.
Painful, laboral.
His last thought is that he hates it.
The tone in the voice.
It’s all too-
.
.
.
-
It’s in the way the moon sings, as the boy’s skin peels off.
It’s in the way he doesn’t let any infection set in.
Scabbing away as the days pass, as Vaatu tries to heal him.
But there’s a reason the two of them were together. Glued, some might say.
Possessed, united fully.
He is part of Zuko, he is his mind and he is confined, locked away from seeking any further help. Not while the boy is that hurt, not while he can’t be awake and alive on his own.
Were it not a tragedy of occasion, his tendency to lock himself in the tiniest confides would be quite entertaining to watch.
Maybe, were it not happening to him, of all creatures.
Truly, he has been reduced to cowering on corners, to being not much more than a shadow.
Was it selfish, to wish for freedom when he had given it up to save his Vessel?
The two of them had done it.
An Avatar State of their own volition.
A sacrilege against the nature of a human body, a way to twist and bend their souls, braided together into a necklace of rope.
He doesn’t want to tell his boy what happened.
What the two of them had done.
He was too young to know what their purpose really was.
What would happen next, once he managed to get Zuko awake for more than a few minutes, enough time for them to scavenge, to do anything?
But keeping him awake, at that moment, would be nothing short of insane.
Yes, he must change. But this is too painful. Vaatu can feel the pulsing, the infection begging to seep in, to eat away at their flesh.
The way the dead limb hangs limply, charred black. The way the damaged leg attracts flies, like a plate of fruit slathered in honey, only kept away by him.
Blisters that look like they could open into eyes, watch the world for them all.
And so, Vaatu brushes off the sickness, scares away the vermin.
Lets his presence seep through, for nothing can keep him from affecting the world, not even being tied so deeply to his vessel.
The woods grow around them, thick foliage, colorful flowers in the vines.
No other spirit to bless or curse them.
Just the lonesome pocket of the world to which Vaatu and his Vessel have gone.
He is the eye of the shadow, the chaos that lurks deep in that tiny, undisturbed piece of the world.
He is a warning to the creatures.
He warns the world to stay away, lest it feel his disruption. His returning strength, his effect on the world around them finally taking place again.
Now that they are united, he can see that they could easily become unstoppable.
Rotting limbs thrown into any position, blackened flesh still smelling like it's been cooked.
The way it all brews in the two of them is nauseating.
The sickness is in the bursts of consciousness, when the one eye that can close opens up, blurry from tears.
When his head faces up and he sobs, lonesome and in pain.
Vaatu tries keeping the pain at bay, even if just by lulling him to bed.
Their vengeance is yet to be completed.
Disaster will strike again, he will make sure of it.
He tries telling, he tries consoling.
We will come back, he says. Rest for now, their fate is incoming.
But he is just a voice in his head, the feeling of a ghost-limb that can't really pull back hair, brush away feverish sweat.
Even if their Vessel is growing more powerful, Vaatu feels as weak as he can be.
But, as consciousness slips away again, he can’t help but notice the way the world is shifting around them.
The way the rabbit-mice has started chasing the otter-fox.
It is a victory, but it feels wrong.
-
Unsteady feet, weight put all into one as Zuko drags himself up.
The pain is hot and hard, it almost drives away the overwhelming hunger.
He didn’t think it could get that bad.
It could be worse, Vaatu says, but his voice still sounds angry.
Maybe not at him, but angry nonetheless.
(Angry like-)
When coherency slips away from his mind, when the pain is too much, as each of his slow, measured hops grows more and more exhaustive, he feels something in him beg for destruction.
But he won’t.
In the same way that Vaatu won’t bring him food, in the same way he will stay quiet, never saying a word of what happened to him.
Zuko wants to proclaim that he isn’t forgiven, but for the moment, his focus is on the steps.
Barely more than hops, as his one useful hand hangs onto trees.
Bare feet, grass scratching up against the angry, still-bleeding skin.
The question is pressing, rubbing against the back of his mind, as he cries out and whines, intense pain barely dimmed.
How is he alive?
All firebenders are taught about the sheer power of their fire, about the great deeds and prowesses they can achieve.
About how much damage they can inflict upon their enemies, when they chose not to end their suffering.
It should be infected.
I am trying not to let that happen, Vaatu whispers in his head, like it's a secret, like saying it out loud will destroy their chances of it getting any better.
 He isn’t moving in the shadow.
“The left side feels green.” he says, barely noticing he’s speaking at all.
Sunlight streams in through the gaps in the foliage. The moon is going to rise up soon, and the world is orange and it all feels green.
Find help, the voice instructs. You need someone to help you.
“First, food.” he argues, hearing the rumbling of his stomach. “I mean- Where there is food, there are people.”
You make a surprisingly decent point, he says, and there ought to be some farmhouses around here.
Zuko shudders.
People watched back there, people saw his shame burned into skin, his last rite of passage.
His whining sounds pitiful to his own head, but he can’t make his mouth shut up.
Involuntary sounds, flinches and shudders, as he drifts through.
Tall grass scraping against his wound, every touch sending new jolts of it.
The gentle breeze, the falling petals of flowers, blown away by the wind.
All so gentle. The kind pulsing of the world’s fiery heart, a piece of peace in the battlefield of its little nations.
And all so, so very painful.
Maybe this tells more than it shows, but pain is hard to show through words, hard to show through barely coherent thoughts, by the mind of a child who had never been through such great agony before.
A bad leg that can’t sustain his weight much longer.
Tiny complaints amidst panting.
He feels like he is the only source of noise. The world is eerily still.
Holding its breath.
Zuko shudders, tree bark scraping at tiny hands.
He looks down on himself.
A foot half-blackened. White and violent red, all blistered and-
Cooked. Broken.
Zuko doesn’t look at his left arm.
He is all too broken, all too destroyed by the time he’s been through.
You aren’t, says the voice.
Scabs that peel away too easily, like they were never meant to form.
Droplets of blood calling for any animal. He is prey, and the world is so, so very much now.
The disorganization of the world doesn’t manage to feel quite right, quite how it should be.
Like someone’s disrupted it before, like they’ve re-organized the world into something it shouldn’t be.
Something hangs in the air, hidden but never overshadowed by the smell of his tracks.
Yes, deliberate.
They’re onto something, he realizes.
A pike of wood, somewhere from which a scarecrow once stood.
“A garden.” he says. “I think we’ve found a garden.”
Purring at the back of his head, his blurry eye half-focusing around him.
A bush at the entrance.
Calling to him.
Food.
It has to be food.
Overtaken by hunger, he can only see them.
The rest of the garden is just carrots, little beets and a cabbage or two.
Nothing that looks that sweet.
And so, Zuko drops down, hisses in pain and twitches about, before grabbing a handful of berries in his one hand.
Vaatu takes a minute too long to realize they’re the kind used to make rat poison.
-
Her abode is a humble one.
A tiny inn she’s set up, rooms rarely occupied.
Of course, she has other places for travelers to sleep in.
It’s her lair, made of damp wood, of floorboards that creak comfortably under her old feet. Of roofs that leak, of the smell of a harmless old person.
She has a thousand little closets, a million nooks and crannies.
Hidden memorabilia, memories she’s carved back up for herself.
All wheatered by rain and by soot, but kept clean and tidy, far away from the fire.
She didn’t have many clients, but she had more than enough time to tend to the ones she had.
And so she did, for a time.
She kept herself satisfied, working towards her goals day in and out.
Followed through with a routine, day in and day out. Cooked plenty for herself, made sure she had the energy to follow through with her tasks.
That night, she can feel the full moon.
A welcome presence above her, making the world pulse with her divinity.
She has blessed the woman with her presence, and so, that night, she will go…
Watch the moon.
It’s a nice way to talk about the indulgence in her favourite of all things.
When she can make the world malleable around her, when she can dance and sing, pulling at the strings that bind the world together.
She smiles, feels it pull at her eyes.
That night will be formidable, she thinks
With finality, she treks along.
Yet, she doesn’t feel alone.
How can she, when the full moon rises, making the world finally feel alive again?
 The leaves crackling under her feet as she strides, the roots and branches snapping under her like she is a mighty beast.
Remainders of the sun’s warmth slowly seeping out, Tui taking her rightful place in the throne of the sky.
Her court of stars, rising slow and steady in its march.
And the world is silent around her. She knows it ought to be gawking at her, the last of her kind.
“Oh?” comes out of her mouth, before she can even stop herself.
An ear strained out.
“What is that…” she tsk-s in amusement, looks around with a half-absent mind.
Just what poor creature dares it, to choke in her garden, to foam over the leaves of her poison, to die in Hama’s territory?
-
Wakefulness comes slowly.
 His brow furrows in confusion, only half his vision able to focus.
But he doesn’t need to.
All Zuko sees is darkness.
He shivers, suddenly hit with the sheer cold of the room.
It's eerie.
He doesn’t know where he is.
He lashes out, trashes about.
His feet burn. Tied together with rope.
There are no windows, the space cramped. The sickeningly sweet smell of mold, the only sound meeting his ears, his own panting.
Like a piece of bread that’s been left hanging around for all too long.
Something is wrong.
It’s in the way his tongue feels garbled when he tries to talk, it’s in the way he can’t quite move.
It’s in the involuntary twitching of a dead limb, that he can’t stop, even when it hurts.
He can’t sit up, wouldn’t even if the dizziness would let him.
Vessel, are you okay? comes to his head.
Why didn’t you stop me, he tries asking. Where are we? Why are we here?
There are no little hands in the shadows, no feeling of a ghost hand touching him.
But the pain is dulled, pushed back.
Cloaked.
“Where am I?” he looks around. “Va-Voice, where are we?”
Someone brought us here, Larva. Get up,  I’m curious.
“Then move on your own.” he spits. “I’m tied up. Stupid.”
Regret makes him shake his head, but Vaatu is too old to hold up a grudge.
I can’t. We are united now, Larva. We are one in the same, and wherever you go, I go too.
“Chained?” he remembers. Like he is. Stuck, chained.
Chained. But fret not, my Larva, for stagnation will not come back to us. For now, though, you shall recover your energies.
A groan, as he lifts his hand, swipes a bug from his brow.
You sound like Uncle goes unsaid, but leaves the taste of bile on his mouth nonetheless.
Shudders, head shakes. The feeling of strands of patchy hair brushing against his shoulder.
He may not be alone, but there's no armor, no protection.
Zuko shivers, suddenly cold.
A part of him would give anything for that surge of power, for the feeling of the elements at his will, ready to be summoned up, to be harnessed and used as he deems fit.
For anything that can protect him, even with the collateral damage.
He can’t do anything, but he struggles to turn to his side nonetheless, to crawl out of the pile of rags that was his bed.
He can’t get up, so he drags his body along, pulls it slowly.
A trail of blood from his left side, scraped against the floorboards.
Dragged by his hand, whining and growling.
He can’t untie himself, no matter how much he tries.
Some kind of different knot - intricate, woven tight.
Vaatu guides him slowly, words that barely register to his mind.
Nausea, the feeling of ants crawling at the tips of his fingers as he drags himself to the door.
Get to the door - away from the fabric, it burns too easily - and then you can burn through the rope.
And suddenly, he wants to scream.
“I’m not burning myself. Shut up!” he plops onto his right side, drool pooling at the left corner of his mouth.
Beyond his control.
You know how to control the heat. It wouldn’t hurt. It's like pulling a bandage.
“Shut up.” he tries screaming, but his voice comes off hoarse.
… I apologize. I understand your fear, Vessel.
“I’m not forgiving you.”
I won’t let you stagnate for long, but feel free to stand your ground for a few more days.
“I’ll give you a week.” A bit of snark, that comes off soft.
A dry chuckle that breaks through the darkness.
He rolls his eyes, but can’t bring a smile up. He knows it would hurt. It would sting on his face, it would pull at the burns.
He reaches the door, struggles onto his knees, pulls at the handle.
Rattled, shaken, pulled and pushed with the feeblest of strengths.
Breaths growing quicker, as the weight of what he had done sets onto his shoulders.
Oh, what he did-
You should’ve eaten your vegetables, comes out as a light-hearted attempt, falling so very short.
“Shut up.” he wants to yell, because he’s locked in a strange home and oh Agni-
It’s dawning on him, slowly and steadily, just what he did.
Just what happened.
He hurt them.
(He did much worse.)
Falls to the floor. Looks at his one hand.
Now only one. Covered with little burns, old marks of his failures set onto his wrists. Little reminders of hands that were once there.
His breath, puffing out as smoke in the dark, cold room.
And suddenly, tears are falling down onto his hand.
(Father did that.)
No voice to comfort him. Nothing but the oppressiveness of his lonesome state.
Zuko wants to drown in tears, but his left eye refuses to cry, his bony body refuses to shake with sobs just yet.
So he just shrinks in there, holds himself close through the pain, pretends someone else is there to hold him.
"W-why?" He asks, feeling only half of his mouth move.
Words coming out garbled, blabbered through tears.
No answer comes, and he feels all alone.
He is a big boy, he wants to remind himself.
A big boy indeed, and that's why he cries and cries and cries, ignoring how the hollow place of the moon is soon filled by Agni’s eye.
-
The walks back home tend to be a less than exciting ordeal.
Oh, of course there's glee. Catharsis, even.
But lately, there’s some more than that. There’s the weight of the years on her shoulders, the soreness on her legs, the ache engraved deep into her bones.
That’s the vengeance of her people, of the men and women slain, torn down from the inside, overtaken by insanity.
She was meant to do it. It was why the art had come to her, it was why she had mastered it.
To bring down the rain of vengeance.
Nonetheless, that particular walk was made through with a quicker step, with a less vengeful head.
She had spent so long hurting, and the ones who hurt were the ones who learned how to heal the best.
She knew where to make it ache, and she had studied plenty of how to heal before.
(Kanna and her, studying scrolls that would be burned less than a day later, until late at the night.
Listening to the tribe's men sing and dance around the campfire, laughing and betting. Rolling their eyes, t hey healed eachother with little kisses by the moonlight, as Hama listened to Tui's song, to the calling of the full moon.
And with her friend's mittened hand in hers, she closed her eyes and felt the warm pulse of a world suddenly coming to life.
In the night's light, the cold wind whipping against their warm bodies, they danced together.
A dance that would soon turn into brisk movements, into desperate jabs.
But, at the moment and to that very day, the times before were painted with a rose-tinted glass.)
What mattered was that she had a patient, someone hurt as badly as she once was.
A son of ash and soot, a child with an eye burned open, blinded but still moving.
A child whose mere existence, whose life was astounding to her. How could that little thing keep going, how could he crawl to her and lay by her grassbed?
A little creature that proved her either insane or lucky enough to have a spirit in her hands.
He was going to be useful, she had decided when she found him foaming at the mouth, turning and twisting, rubbing dirt all over the open wound.
She’d cleaned him up, she had left him a nice little room, for an ashmaker that had yet to pay her back.
He would be grateful, that was certain.
And she’d seen first hand, how gratitude could destroy a man. Break down his flesh, make him bow and worship like a dog.
(She'd stood, suspended in her cell, watching an affair below.
The guard with bright yellow eyes, a glint like that of golden daggers, pointed towards her favorite prisoner.
A young woman, barely more than a girl.
She was from a neighboring tribe. Beautiful button nose and plump lips, bowing down low, foreign words slipping off her tongue.
She was meant to sing to the moon and the sea, but she sung their tribe’s songs upon anyone’s request. Danced as well as she could, tied up in chains.
A slap to the back of her head, something in the dirty ashmaker's speech.
A correction, two apologies delivered in a low bow.
Forgiveness in the form of a plump bowl of jook and not much else.)
Her garden blooms around her.
What little use she could make of the soil there. Little plants, poisonous berries. Nothing too beautiful or lavish. She was just a humble old woman, afterall.
She’d been nice, asked around the village. Seeds, some tools. She was sweet and defenseless, and nobody ever dared suspect her to her face.
The village had never been a tribe.
And the house she lived in had always been just that. A house. Some might stretch it and call it a lair.
Not quite a home, as much as she tries to keep it cold, to make it feel like one when she closed her eyes, and look like one when she dared open them up.
That place is still a land of fire. Lava below her, the sun all too hot, not a single break in his wicked reign.
She misses the polar winters. They’d always been so good for weeding out the weak and the fiery alike.
Perhaps her glasses are tinted blue, contrasting all too sharply against the blood-red of that place.
But the point still stands in her mind. That place is no real home.
It doesn't have the foundations to be one.
It doesn't have the people to make it one.
There’s no Kana or Panuk or any of the children running about. There is no tribe to embrace her, no new stories to tell around the campfire. No dealings with the neighbors, and no polar-bear sled dogs to lead to the market every month.
There’s only the oppressive loneliness of a single person lost in the sea of snakes.
But for now, she can rejoice in the luxury of a new toy. One that can be mended, sewn and filled up with the truth. A child of ash, all hers.
(Malleable as the water she’d once sculpted into ice.)
Slow footsteps, steady smile. A bit of excitement, despite the bits of a lazy cat in her demeanor.
The doors of the inn, all open and empty.
Until the locked closet.
It’s their smallest room. It’s perfect for someone that small, that frail.
A plant left in a pot too big will soon spread, grow out of control.
If he grows up well enough, if his leaves twist and bend and his roots stretch out as he tries to reach the sun, she will put him on a leash.
Hama had been wanting something to keep her entertained.
-
He sobs and heaves and nearly vomits once or twice.
Snot and bile, no comfort, no caress.
Not a word amidst the fit. Nothing that he can hear, nothing that can make itself noted in his mind.
His body hurts, but there is no infection to take him away, to lend him a hand.
He can’t think straight. Repulse fills his throat whenever he thinks of himself, whenever he opens his eye for enough time to truly see himself.
And he can’t do this, he thinks.
Like any child does, he slips into a spiral, falls down and down.
Thoughts swirling in his head, screams that his throat can't force out.
Until something breaks through, snaps him out of it.
The sound of a door creaking open.
A tiny stream of the morning’s light drifts into the room, so gentle yet so bright, revealing dust that doesn’t quite form bunnies and mold growing on the walls of a cramped closet.
The decrepit coldness is suddenly accentuated, with the gentle warmth that hits his back.
He shudders, suddenly, as the light is taken away.
When he turns, a figure stands, back-lit in the doorway.
Old and hunched, his blurry eyes barely able to focus on anything but her kind smile.
He turns to her, ready to question why she left his legs tied up, why she locked him there, how long he'd been alone, what she wants to do now-
“Are- Are you-” he tries stuttering out a question, but suddenly, he realizes he doesn’t know just what he wants to ask.
She comes closer, looks down upon him.
“Bow down and ask, young one.” she says, gently. “Be respectful of this old woman, won’t you?”
Vaatu growls at the back of his head, and, for a second, he forgets that his friend is simply locked inside his mind, with no real effect on the world once they’re not alone.
So, he breathes in deep, pretends there’s nothing wrong inside him.
And drops down in a rigit bow, so the kind woman won’t burn him.
“I am Hama. Who are you?” a cane pokes his burnt side, the arm that’s no longer there.
Deep breath. He knows who he is, and so will she.
“I’m Zuko. Son of-”
“Nobody.” she says. The harsh word startles him, slipped in such a gentle voice. “Not anymore. Not after what happened to you.”
He tries again.
“Zuko, son of P-”
A poke from the cane, right in a blister. He flinches and hisses, unable to stop himself.
“You are a son of nobody.” she says, her voice sweet as the smell of moldy grain. “After all that must’ve happened to you, it’s better as that. Poor thing.”
That silence lasts for a few seconds, before her voice returns, kinder, to his sight of nothing but fetid floorboards.
 “Now, young one, tell me, what have they done to you?”
He won’t say. He won’t speak out again.
Not when Vaatu hisses, pure in his anger, taking over his head.
“Don’t you think you owe me that, after all I’ve helped you with?” a cane pokes his head, gently thumping against his skull. No real intention for pain, not on his bad side.
He gulps down something.
A single tear hits his lip, salty against the bitterness in his mouth.
Why does he cry? Why do the tears betray his mind, why does his gut feel so raw?
“I- I was burned.” he says.
“That I can see.” she says, gently. “Now come on, darling. I must know your affliction to heal you.”
“I was burned and banished.” he says. Words spilling out dirty and fetid and spat out like falling teeth.
But he tells no more. Hopefully, she won't see any tales of spirits, any curses or blessings to destroy.
(What if she wants to cleanse him, too?)
“Oh, dear.” she says, voice perfect in compassion.
Be careful, Vessel, Vaatu says in his head. His voice no longer a hiss, just a thought at the back of his mind. Do not trust her. Do not.
“That is very unfortunate.” she says. “Then, you aren’t Zuko, are you? As a banished boy, you have no name.”
“I- I still have my honor.” is the only defense he can give her.
And she laughs.
It would be warm, infectious as any other disease, were it not happening at that moment, when he felt raw and when his vulnerability was so easy to turn into anger.
“I am Hama, and you are Nobody.”
This is the point where the scene should end. Here, it should all fade away to silence, to maybe a sob or two, a twitch or whine at his own discomfort, until he is instructed to get up.
But please, remember just who we are talking about.
Nothing ends when or how it should, down here.
“B-But-” he tries stammering out, his heart thundering in his chest. His voice can’t come out as a scream, but it tries.
Maybe, a part of him thinks, his voice will be heard then.
She pokes him again, straight at the ribs.
“Nobody.” she says. “Nobody, with that attitude.”
If only she knew, he wanted to say.
Be nobody, Vaatu whispers, locked inside his head.
Zuko wants to fight. He wants to bite and gnash and destroy, to bend and twist and fall upon that state again, that state that made him-
“Not nobody,” he says. “I- I’ll prove to you. I’m not nobody. I swear on my honor.”
He can feel her smile.
“Son of nobody, then.” she says. “But make good on that promise, please.”
Hissing in his head, he looks up.
Tap, straight at a hollowed-out cheek.
“Stay down.” she says. “The light might hurt your eyes, so keep down low, son. I’ll get you something to eat.”
-
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