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yourlocaljonghoe · 29 days

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Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part 2 ]

Part 1 here.

Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

Wordcount: 22.7k

Warnings: misogyny, mentions of (domestic) violence, injuries, wounds, scars, lots of tears and trauma, allusions to sex but cuts right before the actual act

A/N: all i have to say is... thank fucking god i finally finished it. i struggled so much, and though i still love it im also so sick of this fic haha. there are so many people i want to thank for listening to my rambling, brainstorming and constantly reassuring me: @ghstzzn, @skteezcursed, @xomakara and also to @pali-writes-atiny-bit who beta read the whole thing <33 please don't forget to reblog and like! divider credits as always to @firefly-graphics!

Available here on AO3.

“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières

The room around you was quiet, save for the distant ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. As a child, you'd hated this clock. Now, as an adult, you despised it.

Your hands rested in your lap, the delicate lace of the dress you loved so much pooling around you like the last remnants of a life that, albeit short, once felt full of promises. The world outside was moving on, the townsfolk bustling about with their daily tasks, their lives seemingly untouched by the darkness that has taken hold of your heart.

It was funny, hilarious even.

Because despite pretending not to, they all knew, bowed their heads in shame whenever you walked by.

Yet not a single soul had ever cared.

Not until a man was dead, and another one was jailed for his murder.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching as the winter sun set over the distant hills, casting a golden glow on the town below. The streets were full of people rushing to finish their errands before nightfall, their faces etched with concern and urgency. None of them spared a glance in the direction of your family's old house, none of them knew the depth of your despair.

Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn't care.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The sound of the door creaking open drew your attention, but you didn't turn to look. You knew who it was. Your mother had a way of entering a room that felt like an invasion, like an unwelcome breeze slipping through a crack in the window.

“You’re still wearing that costume,” she said, voice low and disapproving. “That man. Hongjoong. You shouldn't-”

“Shouldn't what, Mother? Mourn the only person who ever truly cared for me?”

You kept your forehead pressed against the glass, your breath fogging up a small circle. The lace of your dress felt heavy now, like a shroud. Once, you had worn it with pride. It had been a gift from Hongjoong, back when his friendship, care and love felt like a lifeline. Back when you were still able to see him, touch him, kiss him-

“Why do you still have it on?” she continued, stepping further into the room. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate. “It's time to let go of the past.”

You finally turned to face her, your eyes cold. The sight of her stirred a boiling rage within you, a fury that had been simmering for too long. She looked at you with the same passive face she always had, the face of a woman who turned away from the truths she didn't want to see.

“You let him do this to me,” you said, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “You saw the bruises. You heard the screams. And you did nothing.”

She flinched, just slightly, but quickly regained her composure, fidgeting with her hands. You two had that habit in common. “I did what I thought was best. It was a different time-”

“Different time?” you interrupted, standing up. The lace dress flowed around you, the wind making it flare up. “You watched your daughter suffer, and you did nothing. That's not the past. That's just who you are.”

Your mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but you felt no pity for her. Not anymore. The betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.

“E-everything's changed now,” she said softly. “He's gone. You’re free.”

“Free?!” you echoed, laughing bitterly. “Free to live in this prison of horrible memories? Free to be haunted by the faces of all the people who turned away? Free to watch the man I love be behind bars for a crime I committed?”

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed so, so much louder now.

“You need to let go,” she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone.

“And you need to face what you did,” you replied, your voice cold and unwavering. “Or, well, didn't do.”

With that, you turned back to the window, shutting her out once more. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills, casting long shadows across the town.

You wouldn't stay here much longer. You had a plan, and soon, it would be time to carry it out.

But before that, you had to see your entire family again. And tonight, while celebrating another successful harvest season was the perfect opportunity. Even though the bond you once shared was inevitably broken, they were your family, your people, whom you once loved and shared many memories with.

One last time, you wanted to look them right in the eye.

Because afterwards, you vowed to never speak to them again.

“Miyeon isn't coming today?” you asked as you and your eldest sister set the table. Unfortunately for you, you had to take off Hongjoong’s dress for real this time. To keep the peace, your mother insisted.

“She's with child, Y/N. She can't travel that far. Unlike some of us, she actually fulfills her wifely duties”, she remarked snarky, her voice cold and arrogant.

You didn't take her usual bait. “What a shame. May she and her unborn be healthy,” you whispered. You were being honest; you truly wanted that. Your middle sister was a good human, and you knew if she and her husband Gikwang wouldn't be away so much traveling the world, she would probably be the only family member you could truly lean on.

Unlike Jisoo, the eldest of you. Your relationship had always been strained, even as children. While you and Miyeon were close, Jisoo had always thought of herself as the best of the best, thus never bothering to actually spend time with you.

And when she married her wealthy husband, Juwon, her arrogance reached a whole new level. When your family's fortune went downhill and you had to marry below your status, her evil, cruel nature fully revealed itself to you.

While she was always cordial with your parents and sister, in private, you were her personal punching bag.

Your sister's voice snapped you back to the present. “Father's been asking about you,” Jisoo said, arranging the cutlery with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessiveness. “He's worried.”

“Worried?” you echoed, suppressing a bitter laugh. “Funny, he didn't seem worried at all when he handed me over to a monster.”

Jisoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He did what he thought was best for the family. You were meant to secure our future.”

“And look how well that turned out,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “One dead, another imprisoned, and me... here, all alone.”

For a brief moment, you could swear your sister's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing her features. “Y/N...”

But you weren’t in the mood for her half-hearted attempts at empathy. “Save it, Jisoo. You’ve made your feelings clear enough over the years.”

Silence fell over the room as the two of you continued to set the table. God, in moments like these, you really needed Miyeon. Or ‘Always the peacemaker Miyeon’, as you called her. Because now, this large dining room, once a place full of warmth and laughter, felt like a mausoleum, merely filled with the ghosts and memories of happier, easier times. The ornate chandelier above - one of the rare expensive items your family kept after your father lost his job and status -, the polished wooden floors, the family portraits lining the walls - they all seemed to mock the illusion of a perfect family that had long since shattered.

The room fell into an uneasy silence afterwards. Jisoo's meticulously manicured fingers continued moving with precision, setting each fork and knife in its place, perfectly in order.

“Y/N,” Jisoo began again, her voice softer this time. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But we’re still family. We have to… find a way to move forward.”

You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Behind the cold exterior, you saw traces of the sister you once played with in the gardens, the sister that, despite never being interested in the same things as Miyeon and you, tried her best to somewhat bond with you, all for the sake of the family. Before life had driven a wedge between you. Now, all those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, a dream you could barely recall.

“Moving forward,” you repeated, almost to yourself. “It sounds so simple when you say it.”

“It’s not simple,” Jisoo admitted, setting down the last knife and turning to face you fully. “But it’s necessary.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you pause. Your father entered the room, his once robust frame now slightly stooped with age and worry. His eyes, once so full of authority, now seemed to carry the weight of too many regrets.

He looked as miserable as you felt.

“Y/N,” he said, “It’s good to see you. You've been hiding in your room every time I come back from the fields, I thought… I thought you were ignoring me.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak because yes, you totally were ignoring him. Your relationship with your father had always been complicated, and recent events had only made it worse.. He had been the one to arrange your marriage, to send you into the hands of the man who had caused you so much pain. Forgiveness was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not yet.

Not ever, maybe.

“Father,” you finally managed, your voice tight. “Jisoo and I were just finishing setting the table.”

He glanced at the table, then back at you, his eyes searching your face for something, anything - understanding, perhaps, or absolution. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have the family together again, minus your lovely sister of course.”

Jisoo moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Are you worried? She's in good health, father, the delivery will surely go well.”

You tried so hard not to get upset at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seeing him so worried about Miyeon stung, because when has he ever shown you this kind of emotion?

He nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “Where’s your mother?”

“In the sitting room,” you replied. “She’s... resting.”

The truth was, you had left her standing in the middle of that room after yet another argument, lost in her own guilt and sorrow. But you didn’t have the energy to explain that to your father.

“I’ll go get her,” he said, turning to leave. “Dinner will be ready soon. Jisoo, get your sons from the garden.”

As he walked away, you felt a pang of something close to pity. For all his faults, your father was still trying to hold the family together, still clinging to the hope that things could return to some semblance of normalcy. But you knew better.

Jisoo’s voice pulled you back to the present. “We should finish up. Mother won’t be happy if everything isn’t perfect.”

You nodded, moving mechanically as you placed the last of the plates on the table. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the tension in the air. This dinner, this facade of normalcy, felt like a cruel joke. But for now, you played along, if only to keep the peace a little while longer.

Dinner was… a strained affair, to say the least. Your family gathered around the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on faces that had grown distant and unfamiliar. Your mother, seated at the head, looked as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Beside her, your father’s attempts at small talk fell flat, met with monosyllabic responses and uncomfortable silences.

Jisoo, always the dutiful daughter, tried to keep the conversation going. “Father, have you heard from the merchants about the new trade routes? I read that they’re opening up opportunities in the south. It could be good for the farm, we could get more profit and such.”

Your father nodded, seizing on the topic like a lifeline. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with a few of them. They say the prospects are promising. It could be a chance to recover some of what we’ve lost.”

You listened with half an ear, your thoughts all over the place.

You wondered what Hongjoong was doing at this very moment. Was he getting enough food? Was the little prison cell cold? Was he… Was he thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him? All you could think about was the memory of his touch, his voice, once your only source of comfort, now a constant torment. He was the only person who had ever truly understood you, and now he was paying the price for your actions.

“Y/N?” your mother’s voice brought you right back to reality, “Did you hear me?”

You blinked, realizing she had been speaking to you. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

She sighed, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “I asked if you had any plans now that... now that things have changed.”

You knew what she meant. Now that your husband was dead, now that the scandal had rocked your family to its core. “I haven’t decided yet,” you said carefully. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Your mother nodded, her eyes flickering to your father, then back to you. “Just remember, we’re here for you. No matter what.”

You wanted to believe her, but the years of neglect and indifference had built walls that were impossible to tear down. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

As the meal wore on, the conversation thankfully turned to more mundane matters - Jisoo’s children, Miyeon’s pregnancy, the upcoming harvest celebration in town. It was as if everyone was trying to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were still a family bound by more than just blood and obligation.

But you knew better. And as you looked around the table at the faces of your family, you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt that, slowly but surely, you were no longer a part of them.

Later on, as everyone else was lingering in the living room already, you turned around to your mother, now all alone with you in the kitchen. “Mother?” you asked.

“What is it?”

“The bread you made… can I have some more of it? It was… very good.”

For a split second, she looked you right in the eye.

“...Sure, my daughter.”

She knew something was up.

But maybe, maybe, not intervening with your plans was her way of finally apologizing to you.

The small police station was cold and dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. As you stepped inside, Officer Kim, one of only four officers in your town, looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he spotted you.

“Mrs. Y/N,” he greeted, standing up. “What brings you here at this hour?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I need to see him,” you said, your voice cold and determined. “I need to face the man who killed my husband before he is executed.”

Officer Kim’s eyes widened slightly, but after composing himself, he nodded. “Of course. Just... be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.”

You forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Officer Kim. I brought this as a token of my appreciation.” You handed him the neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “It’s from my mother. She insisted.”

He accepted the gift with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”

As he led you down the short hallway to the cells, your heart pounded in your chest. The air grew colder the more you entered the building. At one point, it was so cold you felt multiple shivers run down your spine. God, Hongjoong must have frozen to death here.

You shook your head, taking another deep breath. You had to act, and act well, for your plan to work.

“There he is,” Officer Kim said, nodding toward the second cell. Hongjoong sat on the narrow cot, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. At the sound of your approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours instantly.

You saw the turmoil of emotions behind his eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and so much relief to finally see you again.

“Y/N,” he began, but you cut him off with a glare.

“Don’t you dare say my name,” you hissed, stepping closer to the bars. “You have no right to speak to me.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his emotions. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.

“I needed to see you,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom. “I needed to look into the eyes of the man who murdered my husband.”

Officer Kim shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly uneasy with the tension. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, retreating back to his desk. “But don’t take too long.”

You waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to Hongjoong, your expression softening. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I had to make it convincing.”

Hongjoong reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice trembling. He looked unwell; skinnier than ever before, his eyes sunken in and some torn, old clothes on his shivering frame.

“I have a plan to get you out,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Officer Kim wasn’t coming back just yet. “The bread I gave him... it’s poisoned. Not enough to kill, just enough to make him sick. When he’s down, I’ll get the keys and we’ll leave. Together.”

Hongjoong’s eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “You’re risking everything for me.”

“I’d risk anything for you,” you confirmed, your voice breaking. “You’re the only person who’s ever truly cared for me. I can’t lose you.”

Before he could respond, you heard a muffled groan from the direction of the desk. It seemed as if officer Kim was already feeling the effects of the poison, his footsteps stumbling as he tried to return.

“Now,” you whispered urgently. “We have to go now.”

You hurried back to the entrance of the cells, finding Officer Kim slumped over his desk, groaning in pain. He looked up at you, confusion and betrayal clearly visible in his eyes.

“Mrs. Y/N... what...”

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said softly, reaching for the keys on his belt. “I had to.”

You returned to Hongjoong’s cell, unlocking the door with trembling hands. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped out, his hand immediately finding yours.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him toward the back exit. “We don’t have much time.”

“Wait,” he said, and halted his steps. Before you could fully turn around and ask what's wrong, he was all over you.

His arms wrapped around you in a fierce embrace, pulling you close as if he were afraid you might disappear. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, echoing your own.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You held onto him just as tightly, savoring the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “We don’t have much time,” you whispered, even though you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. “We have to go.”

Hongjoong nodded, pulling back slightly but keeping a firm grip on your hand. Together, you made your way out, your hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The night was cold and still, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted streets..

“We’ll head to the forest,” you said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “I hid a few resources for us by the tree where we first met. Along with… along with some evidence. Against my former husband.”

“You want… you want to prove my innocence?”

You looked at him, and nodded. “You are innocent after all. And… and I am too.”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened on your hand as the two of you made your way through the dark, narrow streets. “I have someone who can help us,” he whispered urgently. “Someone… powerful.”

You glanced at him. “Who?”

“I can't tell you yet. But trust me, she can definitely help us.”

She?

You nodded, but your mind raced. “...Alright, let’s get to the tree first. We need those resources.”

The two of you moved down the all too familiar path. The town was quiet, the only sound the occasional bark of a distant dog or the rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside you, Hongjoong wasn't as quick as he'd usually be; the weeks of solitary confinement, barely enough food and cold temperatures were clearly evident, yet he did not once fall behind. You reached the tree where you and Hongjoong had first met, a towering oak tree.

The place where it all started.

“There,” you whispered, pointing to a hollow at the base of the tree. Hongjoong knelt down, reaching into the hollow and pulling out a small bag. He opened it, revealing the few precious items you had hidden: food, water, a change of clothes, and most importantly, the evidence that could clear Hongjoong’s name.

“These letters,” you said, pulling out a bundle of crumpled papers. “They’re from my husband. Threatening me, detailing his abuse and plans to ruin our family if I didn’t comply. They’ll prove what kind of man he really was.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes hardening. “We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. But first, we need to get out of here.”

“Don't you want to rest?” you asked, clearly worried about his current state.

He just took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. “Later. I have to make sure you're safe first.”

“And you, too,” you added.

“And me too,” he repeated.

So, the two of you set off again, moving through the shadows, your hearts pounding in unison. As you reached the main street, you were determined to make it as far as possible, as quickly as possible. But as you rounded a corner, you came to a sudden halt.

A carriage awaited you, its dark silhouette looming in the moonlight. And standing beside it, his expression grim, was your father.

“Father,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, his eyes locked on yours. “I… had a feeling you’d try to run,” he said quietly. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

You stared at him, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve made many mistakes, Y/N. So, so many mistakes. But letting you suffer in silence was the worst of all. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you. Even if it means I'll never see you again.”

Hongjoong stepped protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you? You never protected her before, why now?”

Your father met his gaze steadily. “Because I love my daughter.”

“You're a liar,” you whispered, hot, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes.

He fiercely shook his head. “I'm a bad person, Y/N. I do not want to earn my forgiveness with this. But I'm not a liar. Never that. Take this carriage and go, wherever you two want to.”

You looked at Hongjoong, then back at your father. “And what about you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay behind and livel with the consequences. It’s the least I can do.”

Tears filled your eyes as you stepped forward, embracing your father tightly. It was the first hug you shared in a long, long time, and also the last one. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He held you close for a moment, then gently pushed you toward the carriage. “Go. Be safe. And don’t look back.”

You and Hongjoong climbed into the carriage, the soft leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you had just left. As the carriage began to move, you looked out the window, watching your father’s figure grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared into the night.

The carriage rattled along the narrow, winding road, the wheels clattering over the uneven stones. The night was cold, the air crisp with the promise of frost. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and Hongjoong, sharing the warmth as best you could. The lantern hanging from the carriage’s front swayed with each bump, casting erratic shadows that danced across the landscape.

The path ahead was long and treacherous, leading through dense forests and over rocky hills. Every so often, the carriage would hit a particularly deep rut, jolting you both almost freaking the horse out numerous times.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong was some kind of animal whisperer and managed to calm the horse pretty quickly each time.

As the hours passed, the moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light filtering through the bare branches of the trees. The forest around you was alive with nocturnal sounds - the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a fox. You kept a wary eye on the shadows, aware that danger could lurk in the darkness.

Dawn was beginning to break when the carriage crested a hill, revealing a panoramic view of the valley below. The first light of day painted the landscape in soft hues of pink and gold, the rolling hills stretching out like a patchwork quilt. It was a moment of fleeting beauty, a reminder of the world beyond your troubles.

“It's so pretty here,” you whispered. Hongjoong hummed in return, his gaze slowly becoming more and more unfocused.

He was tired, and in desperate need for some rest.

“Let me drive for a while,” you said softly, touching Hongjoong's arm. “You need to rest.”

Hongjoong shook his head, though his exhaustion was evident. “I’ll rest later. We need to put as much distance between us and the town as possible.”

“Please,” you insisted, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. Let me take over until we find an inn.”

He hesitated, then finally nodded, knowing you were right. The carriage came to a halt, and you swapped places. As you took the reins, Hongjoong settled into the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. His eyes closed almost immediately, the tension in his body easing as he finally allowed himself to rest a little.

You guided the carriage along the winding road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves a steady, comforting beat. The landscape around you began to change as the sun climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to open fields and distant mountains.

Hours passed, and you kept a vigilant eye on the road ahead. Occasionally, you would glance back at Hongjoong, who slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. The evidence you had gathered against your husband lay safely tucked away, a lifeline that could clear Hongjoong’s name and secure your future together.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the fields, you spotted a small village nestled at the base of the mountains. It was far enough from your town that you felt safe enough to stop for a while. The village appeared peaceful and quiet, only a few people out on the street at this hour.

You gently shook Hongjoong awake as the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the village. He stirred, blinking groggily. “Where are we?”

“A village,” you replied, helping him down from the carriage. “We can rest here for the night.”

He nodded, too tired to argue. The two of you made your way to the inn, a modest building with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows.

The inn's common room was a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of mugs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, greeted you as you approached the counter.

“Good evening, dear,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. “What can I do for you?”

“We need a room for the night,” you replied, glancing back at Hongjoong, who was leaning heavily against the wall, fighting to stay awake.

The older woman nodded, her eyes flickering to Hongjoong before returning to you. "Of course, dear. We have one room available, but it only has one bed. I hope… that’s alright?”

Her eyes flickered towards your hand. There was no ring on it and so, if you took that single bed room, it would be quiet… frivolous.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You yearned to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort, but after everything that happened, the thoughts of sleeping close to someone terrified you. And, most important in this current situation; you weren’t married yet.

Hongjoong, sensing your hesitation, stepped forward. “That will be fine,” he said softly, tired eyes settling upon your figure. “Thank you.”

It seemed you were the only one caring about appearances.

The innkeeper's smile widened, and she quickly handed you a key. “Room 3, just up the stairs. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”

You nodded, taking the key with trembling hands. “Thank you,” you managed.

You carefully led Hongjoong up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. It seemed that with your arrival, the sound of previous laughter had fully died down. Or maybe the ringing in your ears was too loud for you to notice any other noises. When you reached the door to your room, you hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open.

The room was small but cozy, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a small window that offered a view of the village below. The bed was covered with a thick, quilted blanket, and a simple wooden chair sat in the corner.

Hongjoong sank onto the bed with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. You stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice gentle. “You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, you need to rest properly. We'll share the bed. It’s... it’s fine.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and gratitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yes. We'll manage. I trust you.”

And you did. What you did not trust though were your inner demons.

Hongjoong fully collapsed onto the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Rest now,” you whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I'll go ahead and fetch us something to eat, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes already closing. You stayed by his side for a few minutes, then quietly left the room to look for food you both desperately needed.

After finding some bread, cheese, and a couple of apples in the inn's small kitchen, you returned to the room. The scent of the simple meal filled the space, mingling with the comforting warmth of the inn. Hongjoong stirred as you entered, his eyes slowly opening.

“Food,” you announced with a soft smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing him a piece of bread. “It's not much, but it's something.”

He took the bread with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a bite. “This is perfect.”

You both ate in silence for a while. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it felt like a feast after eating little to nothing the past few days. Hongjoong's presence, his gentle smile, and the way he looked at you with such trust and affection made the food taste even better.

As you carefully cut and shared the apples with him, your fingers occasionally brushed against his, each touch sending a small shiver down your spine. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. You found yourself laughing softly at the way Hongjoong tried to juggle the uncut apples, almost dropping them.

“You're hopeless,” you teased, giggling as he finally managed to catch them.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I'm just a man hopelessly in love,” he corrected, his tone playful yet sincere.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound that you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of lightness with him.

As the meal came to an end, you both settled back on the bed, the small space forcing you to be close. Hongjoong's warmth radiated against your side, his arm brushing against yours. Despite the comfort of his presence, your body immediately tensed.

The last time a man laid next to you, he'd done unspeakable things to you.

But this… this was Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong.

You trusted him.

Yet at the same time, you were still terrified.

You tried to focus on his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, but your heart raced, and your skin prickled with unease. You felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach, your muscles tightening involuntarily.

You couldn't breathe.

Hongjoong sensed your discomfort, his hand gently covering yours. “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm here.”

You nodded, but his reassurance did little to calm the storm inside you. Your mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of his body was both a comfort and a reminder of all you had endured. You wanted to relax, to let go and feel safe, but your body wouldn't allow it.

Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, each beat drowning out every other sound. Your hands trembled, and you clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ground yourself.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “Just breathe with me.”

“I can't,” you sobbed.

“Shhh. Just close your eyes.”

You did as he said, focusing on his voice, his warmth. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his. The tension in your muscles began to ease, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind.

Hongjoong's hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “You're safe,” he whispered, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, finding strength in his presence. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest grounding you. “We'll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”

“You know,” you slowly began, carefully turning around. Now, face to face with him, you carefully lifted your fingers and started tracing husband features; his acquainted eyebrows, over husband prominent cheekbones to his soft, plush lips, where you remained a little longer.

“I don't think I'd be alive without you, Kim Hongjoong. For that… for you, coming into my life and selflessly saving me, I am beyond thankful. But at the same time… at the same time, I can't help but think that if you'd never met me… you could still live your normal life. Sometimes… it gets all too much.”

You held his gaze, your fingers repeating your previous actions of lightly tracing the curve of his lips. “You’ve given me so much, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You deserve everything, Y/N. More than I could ever give.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” you said, your voice breaking. “You've been my rock, my savior. I... I don't know if I can ever repay you.”

Hongjoong's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tension there. “You don't need to repay me. Just being with you is enough. Seeing you smile, hearing your laughter... that's all I need for the rest of my life.”

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his touch. His fingers were warm and strong, yet so gentle. It was a stark contrast to the harshness you had known before.

“You shine so bright, Joongie. Like the sun. My sun.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “And you will shine like that too again. Soon,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race, but it wasn't fear this time. It was something else, something deeper.

Something only Kim Hongjoong could make you feel.

You opened your eyes, finding his face so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I'm scared. Not of you, but of losing you. Of the future. Of what might happen if they find us.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “We won't let that happen. We're stronger together. They won't find us. Once we're in the capital, I’ll handle everything, okay?”

His words gave you strength, and you found yourself leaning into him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow and gentle, a silent promise of your love and devotion towards each other. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you close as your lips moved together, exploring and savoring each other.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads still touching. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with pure, raw emotion.

Hongjoong's eyes softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice just as tender. “More than words can say.”

You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. In his embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. The fear and anxiety that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Let’s rest now,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Together,” you echoed, your voice steady.

He gently guided you down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of you. His arms remained around you, holding you close as you settled into the warmth of his embrace.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your heart full.

That night, you finally had a good, peaceful sleep.

“How long until we arrive at the capital?”

Hongjoong was leaning against the carriage window, his eyes scanning the horizon. A storm would be coming soon, he said.

“Two more days, if we keep this pace,” he replied, turning to face you. “The storm may slow us down a bit.”

You nodded. The journey had been long and exhausting, the constant tension of being on the run making you an anxious mess. But with Hongjoong by your side, you felt a strength you had never known before.

The carriage jostled along the uneven road, the sounds of the wheels clattering against the stones a constant reminder of the distance still left to travel. You glanced at Hongjoong, his face etched with determination despite the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes.

“We’ll make it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. “We have to.”

He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We will,” he affirmed, his voice steady. “And once we’re there, we’ll find a way to solve all this mess. To start over.”

You leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence.

You traveled through several more small villages, their inhabitants just beginning to stir. Farmers led their livestock out to pasture, and shopkeepers opened their doors, the smell of fresh bread and morning fires wafting through the air. The sight of these simple, everyday routines filled you with a strange sense of peace, a reminder that life went on, and that, maybe in the future, your life may look like this too.

Simple yet happy and fulfilling.

And then, you arrived.

You gasped as the large gates of the city appeared in front of you.

The capital was a sprawling maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity. Everything here was just so much larger, louder and generally more impressive, a stark contrast to the quiet, simpler life you had known. The noise and commotion seemed to close in around you, but Hongjoong’s steady presence kept you grounded.

“It's a lot to take in, right?” he asked.

You nodded, mouth opened in awe as you took in your surroundings. “It's huge. I can't stop looking everywhere!”

He laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “We'll have plenty of time to explore everything once we've settled in properly. I'll show you all my favorite places, okay?”

You smiled at him. A gentle, real smile. “Okay!”

Hongjoong looked around, his eyes bright with excitement despite the exhaustion. “Luckily for us, two of my closest friends live here. They’re good people, and I’m sure they’ll offer us a place to stay.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. You haven't told me much about your past, so I’m really excited, Joongie.”

“In the future, I'll tell you everything you want to know. My past, present and future are yours, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered, and a deep blush coated your face. A sheepish smile stole its way onto your lips.

Hongjoong led you through the bustling streets, expertly navigating the maze of alleys and markets. After a few twists and turns, you arrived at a modest but welcoming home.

He hastily jumped up the carriage and then held his hand out for you to take it. You smiled at him. Your lover was a true gentleman, and it made you feel all giddy inside, even at such a small gesture.

Hongjoong knocked on the door, and moments later, it swung open to reveal a tall, athletic man with sharp features and an inquisitive look.

“Hongjoong?” the man said in surprise, his eyes widening. The first thing you noticed was his clothes. They looked… expensive. And yet, he lived in such a small home.

You wondered what his story was.

“What are you doing here?”

“San, it’s a long story,” Hongjoong replied, pulling San into a hug. “We need a place to stay. Is Wooyoung home?”

San nodded, stepping aside to let you both in. “He’s in the kitchen. Come in.”

As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. A few moments later, another man appeared, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. He had a playful sparkle in his eyes and a welcoming smile on his face.

“Who do we have here?” Wooyoung asked, setting the tray down and wiping his hands on a towel.

“Wooyoung, this is my friend,” Hongjoong introduced you. “She's been traveling with me.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise and then softened. “Well, any friend of Hongjoong’s is welcome here. Please, make yourself at home.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at their genuine hospitality. San and Wooyoung led you to a cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. You sank into a comfortable chair, letting out a sigh as your aching muscles relaxed.

“Sorry for the sudden arrival,” Hongjoong said, his tone sincere. “We didn’t have time to send word ahead.”

San waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re safe. What’s going on?”

Hongjoong looked at you first, before briefly explaining: “It's too long of a story to share in detail. But, we had to flee from where we came from and are now on a mission to… clear up some misunderstandings. I can promise you two that you'll be kept out of any trouble. I just… need a safe place, especially to keep my woman safe.”

San nodded, curiously glancing towards you as the words ‘my woman’ left Hongjoong’s mouth. You smiled awkwardly at the man. “We have a spare room you can use, Hongjoong.”

Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes. It wasn't much, but just having a place to stay, surrounded by people you knew Hongjoong trusted, was enough to make you feel all sorts of emotions.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Hongjoong squeezed your hand again, his own eyes full of gratitude. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered softly. “Wooyoung and San are good, nice people. How about you just relax and befriend them while I'll do the work, hm?”

“I couldn't possibly-”

“Oh, but you can”, he interrupted you, playfully playing with your hair. “My Y/N should never worry her pretty head about anything again now that she's with me.”

You giggled sheepishly. “Oh Joongie, you're such a flirt!”

“Ahem.” A voice interrupted you and suddenly, the bubble around the two of you burst and you were reminded that you were not alone but, in fact, in the house of two men who were now very openly staring at you.

One who was cackling behind his hand like a menace - Wooyoung - and the other one who did not know where he should look. You, or the very interesting ceiling?

“So, ‘my woman', huh?” Wooyoung teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since when did you become such a romantic, Hongjoong? And most importantly: where’s our invitation to the wedding?”

Hongjoong’s ears turned a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wooyoung, now’s not the time…”

“Oh, but it’s always the time for love, Joongie!” Wooyoung replied with a dramatic flourish. “Here we were, thinking you were just wandering around from city to city and selling your dresses, but no, you were secretly out there sweeping a lovely lady off her feet!”

San tried to interject, a desperate attempt to hold the man beside him back. “Wooyoung, maybe we should-”

“San, don’t be a killjoy,” Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in weeks! Besides, our Hongjoong, who couldn't even look a woman into the eye the last time we saw him, has finally grown up. We must celebrate!”

“I'm older than both of you, Wooyoung!”

Hongjoong buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, feeling a bit more at ease in the presence of the two strangers now.

“Y/N, you should know,” Wooyoung continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “Hongjoong here is quite the catch. He’s a gentleman, a true and talented dressmaker, and apparently, a poet. ‘My woman’, indeed.”

San finally managed to find his voice. “Alright, Wooyoung, give them a break. They’ve had a long journey, and they need rest, not your joking.”

Wooyoung pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over, Hongjoong. We need all the juicy details later.”

Hongjoong groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You never change, do you, Wooyoung?”

“Never,” Wooyoung replied proudly. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

San shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get you both settled in. You can rest, and we’ll talk more later. Until then Wooyoung, behave yourself.”

Wooyoung saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Later that evening, after a hearty meal and much laughter with Wooyoung and San, you were led into a small, cozy room. The modest bed in the corner looked incredibly inviting after the long journey. You quickly freshened up, San kindly lending you some spare clothing for the night, before returning back to the room. Hongjoong was already there, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. You quietly slipped in beside him, the bed creaking softly under your weight.

He turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“Tired,” you admitted, snuggling closer to him.

Only then did you realize that, despite sharing the bed with him multiple times now, this was the first time both of you wore proper sleeping clothing. Therefore, both of you were a bit… more exposed than usual.

Suddenly, you were very, very aware of the naked skin his hand was occasionally touching.

And your heart skipped a beat. This time, not of the usual warmth Hongjoong ignited within you all the time.

No, this time, there was also a hint of fear rushing through your veins.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of his touch, yet the past clung to you like a shroud, and you felt a flicker of hesitation within you.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and soothing, “you can trust me.” There was an earnestness in his tone, a promise that echoed in the silence of the room. He shifted closer, his body radiating heat and a sense of safety that beckoned you to let go of your fears and open your eyes to meet him.

Nothing but sincerity and love greeted you in his gaze.

As his hand traced a gentle path along your arm, you shivered at the sensation. It was a touch that was so different from what you had known, devoid of the harshness that had once marred your skin and spirit. His fingers danced lightly over your wrist, and you felt a rush of warmth that sent a thrill through your heart, igniting a yearning you had thought was lost forever.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded carefully. It was a struggle to separate the innocence of his affection from the painful memories that tainted your every being. You could feel your breath quicken as he leaned closer, the scent of him - fresh and comforting - surrounding you like a soft embrace.

Hongjoong’s fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his. The way he looked at you, with such reverence and care, made your heart ache. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and it felt like a balm to your soul. You had craved this kind of tenderness, and even though the man in front of you was willing to give it to you, to give you his all, a remaining feeling of panic remained deep inside of you.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with this again. One may think that after we slept side by side so many times already I would get used to it. I don't know why I'm so pathe-”

“Princess, don't you dare finish this sentence. You're incredible and don't have to apologize for a single thing.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that said so, so much, a kiss that was patient and completely unhurried. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you like a protective cocoon.

You did your best to believe in his words.

That night, nothing more happened.

Hongjoong knew that it would take you a long while to truly let go of your fears.

And, while tracing more gentle kisses along your skin, all he said was: “I don't need you to give me your body to know that you are already mine and I am yours.”

The next day, as you slowly woke up and blinked the tears away, you noticed two things immediately: winter was coming, and the temperatures were dropping quickly and, most importantly; Hongjoong's side of the bed was empty.

There was no logical explanation for the panic that immediately set in, yet you felt your chest tightening and your heart pounding quickly. You rushed out of bed, almost stumbling over your own feet as you slipped into the soft pantoffels San provided you with, and sprinted down the stairs.

“Woah, what's the rush-”

“Wooyoung”, you interrupted the man with sleepy, still half-closed eyes, “Where's Hongjoong?”

He scratched the back of his hand. “He left when you fell asleep last night. All he said was that he had some matters to take care of and would be back early in the morning. He… isn't back yet?”

The weight of Wooyoung's words hit you like a train. If Hongjoong had promised to be back by morning, then where was he? The sun was already peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and there was still no sign of him. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the panic threatened to overwhelm you. “No… he isn't back yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign on your tongue.

Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to concern. “Maybe he got held up somewhere? You know how he is… always taking on more than he should.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the answer. “He wouldn't just leave without telling me. Not like this.”

But what if he would?

The unease in your chest grew stronger, the fear tightening its grip around your heart.

Wooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's on his way back right now.”

But you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt he was trying so hard to hide. The pit in your stomach deepened, and you knew you couldn't just sit around waiting, hoping that everything would be okay.

“I need to find him,” you said, determination lacing your voice. You quickly turned on your heel, heading for the door without another word.

"Wait!" Wooyoung called after you, but you were already halfway out the door, your mind set on one thing: finding Hongjoong.

And then you pumped head first into San.

“Careful, little one. What's the-”

“Have you seen Hongjoong?” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you nearly collided with San.

San’s usually warm expression was replaced with a frown. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Should you tell them? Would they even understand? Hongjoong hasn't told them anything concrete about your situation as of now, and you weren't sure if you should tell them without him present.

“He’s… He’s not back yet. Wooyoung said he left last night, but he should’ve been back by now.”

San’s eyes widened. “And he hasn't said where he's going?”

You shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “No. But I... I can’t just sit around and wait. I need to find him.”

San looked conflicted, glancing over at Wooyoung, who had followed you outside. “But you don’t know your way around the capital. You could get lost or… worse.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but San gently placed a hand on your arm, stopping you. “I get that you’re worried, but let’s wait a bit longer, okay? He wouldn’t want you getting into trouble trying to find him.”

The thought of sitting around doing nothing while Hongjoong was out there - somewhere - felt unbearable. He was shouldering all your problems alone, and it made you both guilty and mad that he didn't even tell you a single thing.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and San led you back inside the house. The atmosphere was heavy as the three of you settled into the living room, the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes in agonizing slowness.

“So… uh…”

Awkward silence set in, both men looking at each other concerned. Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood, leaned back on the couch and stretched.

“Uh.. Did you know that San literally can't sleep without hugging something? And with something, I mean me - like, this man doesn't know how strong he is and literally suffocates me every night!”, he laughs.

You glanced at San, who looked somewhat mortified, a blush creeping up his neck. “Wooyoung…” he muttered, giving him a half-hearted glare. Unfortunately, his joke did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only made the awkwardness more palpable. “Uh, that's… interesting,” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say. You liked them both, but conversations with them always felt like you were navigating a minefield, unsure of where to step.

Especially now that Hongjoong wasn't here with you.

San rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “It's not like that, really. It's just… a comfort thing, I guess.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, stealing glances at Wooyoung and San, who were both trying, in their own ways, to lighten the atmosphere. They were being so kind, so patient, but it only made you feel worse. You weren’t used to this. It was foreign, almost suffocating, in a way you couldn't quite understand.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, breaking the silence, seemingly ignoring that you still haven't said anything to his joking attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, have you had breakfast yet? I can make something if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head, though the thought of eating made your stomach twist in a knot. “No, I’m… I’m not really hungry.”

“Coffee, then?” San offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “Or tea? I think there’s still some left in the kitchen.”

You hesitated, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Maybe… tea?” It felt like the right thing to say, even if you weren’t sure you could stomach anything right now.

San nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. “Tea it is. I’ll be right back.” He got up, his footsteps almost too loud in the quiet room, leaving you alone with Wooyoung. The silence between you and the other man was thick, both of you unsure of what to say. You could feel his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if you looked up, he’d see just how out of sorts you really were.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, clearly trying to come up with something to break the tension. “You know, I don’t think we’ve really had the chance to talk much… Just us,” he said.

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. You wanted to be able to talk to him, to say something normal, but the words just wouldn’t come. It was frustrating - feeling like you were locked inside your own head, even when you desperately wanted to reach out. He leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I get it, though. Meeting new people can be… overwhelming.”

You looked up at him. “It’s just… I’m not really used to this. To any of this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Wooyoung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. But hey, no pressure. We’re just… trying to make you feel welcome, you know? You're Hongjoong's girl, after all.”

“I know,” you replied quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I really appreciate it. I do. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

He didn’t press you, just nodded again, his eyes soft. “It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. We’ve all got our own issues, you know?”

Before you could respond, San returned, holding a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to you with a small, reassuring smile. “Here you go. It’s chamomile - good for relaxing.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into your skin.

San settled back into his seat, the three of you once again falling into a somewhat awkward silence. You sipped your tea, the warmth soothing your throat, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside you. They were trying so hard, and that only made it worse. You could see the effort in every glance, every word. They didn’t know your past, your struggles, and you didn’t know how to tell them - didn’t even know if you should. And so you stayed quiet, trapped in your own thoughts, feeling like an outsider despite their best efforts.

“I guess… I’m just not good at this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“At what?” San asked gently, leaning forward slightly.

“Talking. Being around people. Making… friends I don’t know how to…” You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, not in a mocking way, but as if he understood more than you realized. “You’re doing just fine. We’re not exactly pros at this either, you know. Most of the time, we’re just winging it.”

San nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s okay to not know what to say. We’re just… glad you’re here.”

Their words made something inside you ache. You still weren’t used to kindness without strings attached, to people caring just because. It felt undeserved, even after Hongjoong showed you that you did in fact deserve it, and that made you even more unsure of how to act.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You wanted to be better at this, for them, for Hongjoong, but you didn’t know how.

Wooyoung grinned, nudging your shoulder lightly. “No need to thank us. We’re all in this together, right?”

You nodded, managing a small smile in return. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.

If someone would've told you that you'd ever be genuinely mad at Kim Hongjoong, you definitely would've laughed right in their face. Because Hongjoong was the kindest, sweetest man you'd ever known, so what would ever make you angry at him?

“Ah, look who's back,” was all you said as you heard the door close behind you.

You had never imagined feeling this way toward Hongjoong, the man who you grew to love so much. But now, as you stood in your shared living room, hearing the door close behind you, that anger burned hotter, fueled by the fear and helplessness that had consumed you all morning.

You didn't turn around to face him immediately, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one only making the knot in your chest tighter.

The sound of his footsteps approaching filled the room, and you could feel his presence behind you, close enough to touch. For a moment, you considered letting it go, just brushing it all under the rug like you’d done with so many things before. But this was different. This problem wasn't just his alone; this was your life too, your problems, your fears, and he had just walked away, leaving you in the dark.

Hongjoong hesitated. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he began, but that was all it took to make you whirl around, your emotions spilling over.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” The words came out harsher than you intended, but you couldn’t stop them. “You left without saying a word, Hongjoong. I don't even know where you went! You promised you’d be back by morning, and then you just… didn’t come back. It's almost midnight now! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, his voice softening, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. “I just had to take care of some things-”

“But why alone?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do you always do this? You think you have to handle everything by yourself, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected. But this is my problem too, Joong! I have a right to know, to help, to be there with you! Because…” your voice broke, and you looked at the floor as you wiped a tear away, “because the guilt is eating me alive, Joong. Without me… without me, none of this would have ever happened. It all began with me, so I should… I should take responsibility too.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, hey, no,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to cup your face, but you took a step back and shook your head silently.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like this is just something we can brush aside, like it’s no big deal. You think you’re protecting me by keeping things from me, but you’re not. You’re only making it worse. I can’t keep doing this, Joong. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay for you to shut me out. For you to shoulder everything alone.”

Hongjoong’s hand dropped to his side, his face crumbling with regret. “I never wanted to shut you out. I just… I didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden. You're still so… hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it on my own.”

“But it’s not just your burden to carry!” you cried, your voice breaking. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Joong. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle. You don’t get to just leave me in the dark, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if you’ll even come back. I was worried sick the whole day!”

His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t know how to make this right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks as you looked at him, at the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who had somehow become a stranger to you in this moment.

“I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. “You may talk to me again when you're finally ready to include me in your plans. Until then… good night, Joong.”

“Y/N, wait-”

But the door shut close behind you before he could finish his sentence.

“H‐hey, I'm sorry, I really didn't want to eavesdrop, but I heard you two arguing...” San’s voice trailed off, his gaze meeting yours. The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check threatened to overflow.

For a second, you hesitated. You weren’t close to San - not really. He was still more of a stranger than a friend, someone who was kind and caring but still somewhat distant. But right now, you felt like you were drowning, and he was the only solid thing within your reach.

Without thinking, you moved towards him. As soon as you reached him, you hesitated again, but before you could pull back, San’s arms wrapped around you in a warm, protective embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and the dam inside you finally broke.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you cried against him, the sobs you’d been holding back all day finally breaking free. San stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly relaxed, his hold tightening slightly as he let you cry it out.

The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear - it was the first comfort you’d felt all day. But even as he stood there comforting you, you still felt torn. The only person you'd ever fully confined in was Hongjoong. This was new territory for you, and it was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

San didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, holding you as you trembled in his arms. His hand moved slowly to your back, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to soothe you. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.

As your sobs subsided, leaving you with shaky breaths and red, tear-streaked cheeks, you slowly pulled back, wiping your eyes. You were still in his arms, but you felt the awkwardness creeping back in, and your gaze wandered again, not knowing where to look.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I didn’t mean to…”

San shook his head, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to break down sometimes.”

You managed a small, shaky smile, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering between you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, San. I feel so lost. Hongjoong… he means everything to me, but he’s shutting me out. I know he has only my best interest at heart, but… This is my story, too. And I don’t know how to handle that.”

San hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what you’re going through,” he began, “but I do know that Hongjoong cares about you - more than you probably realize. He’s just… used to handling things on his own. ”

You nodded.

“You’re… you’re really kind, San,” you murmured, your voice still trembling. “But we barely know each other. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

San’s expression softened even more, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not a burden. We all have our struggles, and sometimes it helps to have someone to lean on, even if it’s someone you’re not that close to… yet.” He added that last word with a gentle emphasis, as if offering a bridge to something more.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a small crack in the walls you've built around yourself.

And so, in the heat of the moment, you told him everything. San brought you to the living room, where he carefully sat you down and wrapped you in a blanket, and as Wooyoung joined you two, you told them everything.

About your marriage, your family, your town - and about the man who took it upon himself to save you from this cruel fate.

The tension between you and Hongjoong had been unbearable for days. Ever since that night, neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other.

You had thrown yourself into anything that could keep your mind busy - cleaning, reading, anything to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and the man you loved.

Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room, lost in thought, you heard the front door creak open. Hongjoong stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart clenched at the sight of him - he looked exhausted, worn down by the stress of the past few days.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, as if trying to gauge your mood, before finally breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, but you nodded, too tired to resist any longer. “Okay,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch and facing him.

Hongjoong swallowed, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’re still angry at me,” he began, his voice low and strained. “And I understand why. I learned my lesson, Y/N. But now… now I wanna include you. If you… if you want that.”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart beating faster as he continued.

“There’s someone we need to see,” he said after a pause, his eyes searching for yours. “Someone who can help us, who can clear my name and… maybe, just maybe, give us a chance at a life without all this running and hiding.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Who… who are you talking about?”

Hongjoong took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “The Queen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the only one powerful enough to undo this mess. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with her for days, but she’s… she’s not easy to reach. But now… now we can finally meet her.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “The Queen? As in… the Queen?”

The Queen was a figure of almost mythical power, someone so far removed from your world that the idea of asking for her help seemed as impossible as wishing on a star.

But Hongjoong’s expression was deadly serious, and you could see the determination burning in his eyes. He wasn’t just grasping at straws - he truly believed this was your last chance, your only hope to end the nightmare that had taken over your lives.

“The Queen,” he confirmed, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly as he reached out to you.

“You know… I… I’ve worked for her for years, Y/N. I made her gowns, her dresses, the wedding dress she wore when she married the King… that was mine. She told me once, when I presented it to her, that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, she would do her best to help me. And I never thought I’d have to take her up on that offer, but now… I have no other choice.”

“The Queen… oh my God,” you whispered. “This is… insane.”

The reality of what Hongjoong was saying began to sink in, and your mind spun with the implications. The Queen, the most powerful woman in the kingdom, someone who could alter the course of your lives with just a single word… It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d grown up hearing stories about her, tales of her beauty, wisdom, and strength. But those were just stories. The idea of meeting her, let alone asking for her help, seemed impossible. Yet here Hongjoong was, standing in front of you, serious and resolute.

“I know it sounds insane,” Hongjoong said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But this is our best chance, Y/N. Maybe our only chance. And we have evidence. The letters, remember?

“-And the scars on my body,” you whispered.

Hongjoong bawled his hands, his jaw clenching immediately. “You never… told me you had remaining scars.”

You nodded. “Ignoring them is easier. I try to… forget them entirely when I can.”

Without a word, he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body making you relax immediately.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. “We need to get ready,” he said, his voice steady. “If we’re going to meet the Queen, we can’t go in looking like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no time to waste. I have to make something for us,” he said, determination flashing in his eyes. “We need to look elegant. I might not have my supplies here, but I can work with what we have.”

Your heart raced at the thought of him making outfits from scratch. “Are you sure you can do that?”

He nodded firmly, already moving toward the small room where you were temporarily staying in Wooyoung and San's house. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a minute to gather some things.”

You watched as he began searching through the limited fabric and materials you had, his hands working swiftly. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out old sheets and any leftover clothing you had brought along. You felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety as you realized the weight of what he was attempting to do.

“What do you need me to do?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“There's a shop nearby that sells fabrics,” he said, already rummaging through his pockets for money, “I need you to buy me some. Can you do that?”

Your heart raced at the urgency in his voice, but a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Uh, sure, but... I’m not sure where it is,” you admitted, glancing out the window. The sun was starting to set, and you were acutely aware of the time slipping away.

“I’ll draw you a quick map,” he said, moving quickly to grab a scrap of paper and a pen. He sketched a simple layout, marking the route to the shop with clear, careful lines. “You can do this, Y/N. Just follow the map, and don’t let anyone see you.”

You nodded. “What do you need me to get?”

“Just some quality fabric, something that looks nice but isn’t too extravagant. Maybe something dark for me, something light and flowing for you,” he instructed, glancing up at you. “Can you remember that?”

You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Great,” he said, folding the paper and handing it to you. “I’ll need you back as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll be quick,” you promised. As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of him, already immersed in his work, the fabric and thread strewn across the table like a chaotic canvas.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. You followed the map he had drawn. The shop wasn’t far, and soon you found yourself standing in front of a small fabric store, the sign creaking softly in the breeze.

Once inside, the overwhelming scent of textiles filled your senses. Bolts of fabric in every color and texture lined the walls, and the shopkeeper gave you a curious look as you stepped in. Remembering Hongjoong’s instructions, you immediately focused on finding something that fit his descriptions.

After scanning the shelves, you spotted a soft, flowing fabric in a light cream color that seemed perfect. You could almost picture how beautiful it would look on you. With that in mind, you also searched for a darker fabric for Hongjoong. You settled on a deep navy blue, rich yet understated, that would complement the cream tone perfectly.

With your choices made, you approached the counter, your heart pounding as you handed over the money Hongjoong had given you. The shopkeeper smiled and carefully wrapped the fabric.

“Thank you,” you said, clutching the bundle tightly as you headed back outside.

As you stepped through the door of Wooyoung and San's house, you saw Hongjoong still working diligently. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw the fabric in your arms. “You did it!” he exclaimed, taking the fabric from you. “This is perfect!”

You smiled, relieved to see his excitement. “I hope it’s what you wanted. I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s exactly what I needed,” he said, moving quickly to lay the fabric out on the table. “Now, we can start putting everything together.”

Hongjoong spread the fabrics across the table, eyes gleaming with purpose. “This is going to be incredible,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. You watched him with admiration as he quickly sketched designs in his notebook, his mind racing with ideas.

The first night stretched on, the room dimly lit by a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You could hear the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine as Hongjoong lost himself in the work.

Time blurred as the night turned into dawn, and you found yourself falling in and out of sleep. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machine and the occasional rustle of fabric. You’d occasionally catch Hongjoong stealing glances at you, and though he was clearly exhausted, there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't die down.

By morning, the first pieces of your outfits began to take shape. “Look at this,” Hongjoong said, holding up the bodice of your gown. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile. “It’s coming together beautifully, don’t you think?”

“It’s stunning, Hongjoong,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration. “I can't wait to see the final piece.”

As he set it down and returned to his work, you noticed how hard he had to concentrate just to keep his eyes open. He was clearly pushing himself to the limit. You wanted to urge him to take a break, to rest for a moment, but you hesitated.

Hongjoong moved with practiced precision, cutting and sewing and cutting and sewing; repeating the same routine over and over again.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, his pace slowed down more and more.

“Hongjoong,” you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for so long.”

He paused, looking at you with those tired yet determined eyes. “I can’t stop now. We’re so close. I just need to finish your gown, and then I’ll rest, I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion when we meet the Queen.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, but the laughter quickly faded as he nodded. “I promise, Y/N. Just a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned out to be one more day full of work.

On the evening of the second day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hongjoong finally stepped back, surveying the gown he had made for you. The fabric flowed beautifully, a soft cream color with delicate embroidery that accentuates your figure. It was breathtaking.

“Look,” he said, gesturing to the dress. “It’s finished.”

“It doesn't matter how many dresses of yours I'll see, I'll always be amazed… you're so talented, Joongie,” you said, slowly stepping between his legs and carefully combing through his hair.

Hongjoong slung his arms around your waist and laid his head on your stomach, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his reassurance settle within you. “So, how exactly will we get to the palace?” you asked, trying to shift the focus from your worries to practical matters.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes brightening as he began to explain. “The Queen’s servants are discreet and efficient. After I sent word to her, she agreed to send a carriage for us. It should arrive tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” The reality sent your heart racing again. “Do we have everything ready? What if something goes wrong?”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. Everything is in place. The only thing we need to do is stay calm.”

The following morning arrived way too fast. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and a warm breeze entering your room through the window.

Hongjoong was already up, carefully folding the outfits he had poured his heart into over the past two days. You stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Are you ready for this?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, offering you a small smile.

You gave him a reassuring nod yourself, though your own nerves were starting to fray. The idea of meeting the Queen, of putting your fate in her hands, felt surreal. But there was no turning back now. You quickly changed into the gown Hongjoong had created for you, the fabric cool against your skin, yet surprisingly comforting. It fit you perfectly, accentuating your form in all the right ways, the soft cream color making you feel both elegant and ethereal.

Though the dress Hongjoong created back in your hometown, the one so blue it reminded you if the sea itself, would always be your favorite, this one was nonetheless nothing but breathtaking.

When you finally emerged, Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a long moment, a proud smile stealing its way on his lips. “You look… beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like I imagined.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You look amazing, too.”

Hongjoong's gaze softened as you stepped closer. All that mattered was him, standing before you, his eyes tracing every curve and line of your face.

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. His breath hitched at the simple touch, and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the love, the desire, and the lingering regret of the days you'd spent apart.

His hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest,

Hongjoong’s eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You didn’t need to say a word - your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

When his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to disappear. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring every second. His lips were soft, warm, and as they moved against yours, you felt a deep, aching need stirring within you, a need that had been building for days, weeks, months.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Hongjoong responded in kind, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as if all the emotions you'd both been holding back were pouring out in this one, desperate act.

You could taste the urgency on his lips, feel the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. His tongue brushed against yours, sending a wave of heat through your body that made you feel like you were melting into him. The kiss was everything - sweet and tender, yet fierce and consuming.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. You could feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, and it only made you want him more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Hongjoong’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that this very moment here was real.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks. “I love you too, Hongjoong. I always have. I always will.”

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to show you just how much he loved you, how much you meant to him.

“You ready?” he asked as he took a step back. You instantly missed his lips on yours, but you nodded nonetheless.

He offered you his hand, and you took it without hesitation.

As you stepped aside, clearly overdressed in this rural neighborhood, the carriage was already waiting, a sleek, black vehicle with the Queen’s crest emblazoned on the side. The horses were well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. A stern-looking driver stood by, his expression unreadable as he held the door open for you. With one last deep breath, you and Hongjoong climbed inside, settling onto the plush seats.

The carriage began to move slowly, the sound of the wheels clattering against the cobblestones filled the silence. You glanced at Hongjoong, who was staring out the window, his jaw clenched.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply watched the world pass by outside.

Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

The question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. But as you met his gaze, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in days.

The sudden shift in conversation caught you off guard, but a small smile crept onto your face as the memory came flooding back. “Of course, I remember,” you replied, chuckling softly. “How could I forget that? Ah, Django… I miss him… And Benji… oh God, my little Benji… I hope they're all well.”

“They are, my love. I'm sure they are.”

And then, as the carriage rounded a final bend, the palace finally came into view. It was a magnificent structure, with its white marble walls glowing in the fading light. The Queen’s residence was every bit as awe-inspiring as the stories had said, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tighten.

As the carriage drew closer, you could see a group of palace guards standing right outside the gates, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns that lined the pathway to the grand entrance. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the driver emerged, opening the door for you and Hongjoong.

You took a deep breath. Hongjoong stepped out first, offering his hand to help you down. As your feet touched the ground, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

The grand doors of the palace opened with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing a tall, elegant woman dressed in a deep burgundy gown. Her presence was commanding, yet her expression was kind as she approached.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and authoritative. “The Queen has been expecting you.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Hongjoong, who gave you a small nod, before you both followed the woman inside. The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with various paintings and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The floor beneath your feet was made of polished marble, and the soft click of your shoes were echoing through the halls.

As you walked deeper into the palace, the grandeur only increased. Walls were lined with portraits of past kings and queens, their eyes seeming to follow you as you passed.

Finally, you were led to a pair of ornately carved doors, which the woman pushed open with ease. Beyond them was a grand chamber, bathed in the warm light of a thousand candles. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne that seemed to be carved out of pure gold, was the Queen herself.

She was as regal as you had imagined, with an aura of quiet power that made the room feel smaller, the air more charged. Her hair was a rich, dark color, intricately braided and adorned with jewels that sparkled with every movement. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, fixed on you and Hongjoong as you entered the room.

“Your Majesty,” Hongjoong said, bowing deeply before you had a chance to follow his lead.

The Queen’s gaze softened as she looked at Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. “Rise, Hongjoong,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It has been a long time.”

Hongjoong straightened up, but his grip on your hand tightened. You could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Queen’s eyes flicked to you, her expression unreadable. “I see you have brought someone with you, Hongjoong. Please, both of you, come closer.”

You nodded, bowing deeply in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that almost made you fall ill.

The Queen studied you for a moment before her gaze returned to Hongjoong. “I understand you’ve come to ask for my help?” she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hongjoong replied. “We’ve found ourselves in desperate need of your help. I’ve brought evidence to prove our case, but… there is also something that only Y/N can show you.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what is this evidence?”

Hongjoong hesitated, glancing at you before speaking. “Your Majesty, before I ask Y/N to show you the evidence, I feel it’s important for you to understand her story - our story - in its entirety.”

The Queen nodded, her expression growing more serious as she settled back into her seat, indicating for him to continue.

Hongjoong took a long, deep breath. “Y/N came from a decent, middle-class family. They lived comfortably - not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Her future should have been secure, perhaps with a marriage that would maintain or even improve her standing in society. But things took a dark turn.”

He paused, glancing at you as if seeking your permission to continue. You gave him a small nod, and he went on, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Her father… he made a decision that changed everything. He married her off to a man well below her status - a drunkard, a violent brute. This man - he was no husband. He was a monster. He raped and beat her almost every day, treating her worse than a common servant. She was trapped in a nightmare, until she… until she had to kill him in self defense to save the both of us.”

“And to protect me,” you chimed in, your desperate gaze finding the woman before you before you continued: “J-joong- I mean, Hongjoong took the blame upon himself. He… he was about to be beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, so I… I took it upon myself to release him and flee with him.”

“We are here to plead our innocence, and to ask for a royal pardon of you, your Majesty,” Hongjoong spoke, standing proud and tall beside you, like the safe haven he always was for you.

“A royal pardon, you say?” she asked.

“Yes. Since no one in our town bothered to even investigate, we ask for you to review all evidence and overturn the decision.”

The Queen’s expression remained inscrutable, giving away nothing of her thoughts. Silence stretched in the grand chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the candles and the distant echo of footsteps in the vast corridors beyond.

At last, the Queen rose from her throne, the jewels in her hair catching the light as she moved. She descended the steps from the throne with grace

“I can see the truth in your eyes, but understand this - granting a royal pardon is not a decision I take lightly. There must be undeniable proof,” she said.

She turned to you, her sharp gaze assessing. “Y/N, I need you to show me the evidence Hongjoong mentioned. Whatever it is, it must be enough to convince me beyond doubt.”

You reached into your cloak, pulling out a stack of worn, yellowed letters tied together with a frayed ribbon. Your hands shook as you untied them, revealing the harsh, almost frenzied handwriting of your late husband. You could feel the Queen’s eyes on you, her gaze intense, as you stepped forward and placed the letters in her outstretched hand.

“These letters,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “are from my deceased husband. In them, he admits to everything - his abuse, his threats, and… even his intent to kill me one day. They are his own words, Your Majesty. Written in moments of drunken rage, or cruel clarity. He was proud of what he did, and he never hid that from anyone. But he was also reckless, and he left these behind, never thinking they might be used against him.”

The Queen’s expression remained unreadable once again as she began to read the letters. The room was silent save for the sound of rustling paper. With each page she turned, you felt your heart pound louder, your hands clasping Hongjoong’s tighter.

After what felt like an eternity, the Queen looked up from the letters. Her gaze was more somber now, tinged with something that might have been pity, or perhaps understanding.

“These letters are indeed compelling,” she said slowly, “but it alone is not enough. The word of a dead man, though through his own admission, cannot fully clear your names. I need more.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Your Majesty,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the whole town knew what was happening. They turned a blind eye, because… because they didn’t want to get involved. I don’t know if I can rely on their testimony. But… my parents, though they looked away for so long, showed great remorse before I fled. They knew what was happening, and they did nothing to stop it. I… though I can never reconcile with them, I have no choice but to trust them this one last time.”

The Queen’s gaze softened slightly as she regarded you. “And you believe they will speak the truth, even now?”

You nodded, though you felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “Yes, Your Majesty. They have to.”

The Queen considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I will send for your parents and have them brought here to testify. But… there's another thing you want to show me, right?”

You swallowed hard. The letters had made an impact, but the Queen needed more, something undeniable. Your heart raced as you prepared to reveal the evidence that you had hidden for so long, even from yourself.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling. “There is… one more thing I can show you.”

The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. You hesitated, glancing at Hongjoong, who was watching you, his eyes telling more than words ever could. His presence gave you the strength to go on.

“My body bears the scars of my husband's cruelty,” you said quietly, “Scars that… tell the story of what he did to me.”

For a small second, something in her eyes flickered - perhaps sympathy, perhaps disgust at the thought of such brutality. But it disappeared as fast as it appeared, and she composed herself quickly. “Very well,” she said, her voice low and measured. “Show me.”

But before you could move, the Queen raised a hand to stop you. “Hongjoong,” she addressed him firmly, “you must wait outside. As you are not married, it would be inappropriate for you to remain here.”

Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught himself, understanding his words would make no impact. He nodded and gave you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right outside,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”

You nodded, trying to offer him a smile. “Thank you, Hongjoong.”

As he was escorted out of the room, the Queen waited until the door closed before turning back to you. The room felt emptier without Hongjoong by your side, but you tried to stay calm nonetheless.

As he left the room, the Queen gestured to a few of her attendants, and a group of maids quickly approached. Your dress was elegant, more elaborate than you were used to, and you realized you would need help to reveal the scars that were hidden beneath its layers.

The maids moved with practiced efficiency, unfastening the intricate clasps and loosening the delicate fabric of your gown. You felt a wave of vulnerability wash over you as they carefully peeled back the layers, revealing the faint, jagged lines etched into your skin.

The Queen stepped closer, her gaze intense as she examined the marks. She didn’t speak, but her silence was heavy.

After a long moment, she stepped back, her eyes closing for a moment. “These scars… they cannot be ignored.” She turned to one of her attendants, a stern-looking guard who had been standing by the door. “Send for a scrivener,” she commanded. “These letters and the scars on her body must be documented.”

The man bowed and hurried out of the chamber, leaving you alone with the Queen and the maids, who carefully refastened your dress. The Queen’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you. “Hongjoong has been a long confidante of mine, so naturally, he has my trust” she said, “But there is still a process that must be followed. The evidence will be recorded, and your parents and anyone else willing to testify will be brought before me. Until then, I must uphold the law.”

Once the scrivener arrived and began documenting the evidence, the Queen addressed you again. “You will be given quarters where you can rest,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “And I will ensure that you have everything you need until the trial begins. Be strong, Y/N. The truth will come to light.”

You bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And with that, the Queen turned and left the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Now all you could do was wait.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong's voice reached you the moment you stepped into the tower room. But before you could even respond, you found yourself distracted by your surroundings. For a place meant to imprison you, the room was unexpectedly luxurious - far more so than anything you'd ever experienced. The walls were draped with rich tapestries and the bed was covered in soft linens. A large, plush rug covered the stone floor, and the air smelled faintly of lavender.

You paused, blinking in surprise at the sight. This was supposed to be your prison? It surely made you feel out of place, like it belonged to a royal guest chamber rather than a cell.

"Are you alright?" Hongjoong’s voice broke through your thoughts, concern etched in his features as he took a step closer to you. But before you could answer, the door behind you creaked open again, and a small group of maids entered.

“Your bath is ready, my lady,” one of them said with a polite bow, her voice soft yet firm. “Please, come with us.”

My lady?

You looked at Hongjoong, startled and confused. He gave you an encouraging nod, though he looked just as confused as you.

“Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Reluctantly, you allowed the maids to lead you away, down a small corridor that connected to an adjoining room. The room was even more elaborate, with a large copper tub set in the center, already filled with steaming water that scented the air with rose petals and herbs. Thick, fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby, and a selection of fine soaps and oils were arranged on a small table besides.

They helped you quickly undress and step into the bath. The warm water immediately melted away the tension from your muscles. As they poured fragrant oils into the water, your eyes closed and you sank deeper into the water. The maids worked in silence, their hands gentle as they washed your hair and scrubbed your skin with fine soaps. Eventually, the bath was over, and you were lifted from the water, wrapped in a thick, warm towel. The maids dried you off and led you to a big mirror where they brushed your hair and dressed you in a white nightgown that felt impossibly soft against your skin.

Once they were done, they stepped back, quietly observing you. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. The nightgown was simple yet elegant, the white fabric almost transparent against your skin. It flowed down to your ankles, delicate lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. It made you look delicate and almost… sensual.

Still deep in thought, you were guided back to the main room where Hongjoong was waiting. As you stepped into the room, you saw him pacing near the window, lost in thought. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw you.

For a long, long moment, he simply stared at you, his eyes wide as they traveled over your figure. His usual calm and collected demeanor seemed to crumble as a faint blush colored his cheeks. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“You-” Hongjoong began, his voice strained as he took a step closer, his gaze flicking back to you before quickly averting again. “You look… beautiful.” His words were quiet, and you could see the internal battle playing out within him as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

You could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he sneaked a glance at you, something that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was holding himself back. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, but the way he avoided your gaze told you that he was struggling. “I… I didn't mean to stare,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. "I just… You-”

You took a step closer. Hongjoong's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something raw and intoxicating in his expression - something that sent a shiver down your spine, something that made your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“Hongjoong,” you said softly, the sound of his name breaking the silence that had settled between you. “I'm fine. You can-”

“Sir, your bath is prepared as well,” one of the maids said with a polite bow. “Please allow us to assist you.”

Hongjoong stiffened slightly at the offer, clearly taken aback. “Uh, that's not necessary,” he stammered, his usual confidence faltering as a blush crept up his neck. “I can manage on my own.”

The maid, seemingly unfazed, simply nodded. “Of course, sir. But if you require anything, we will be right outside.” With that, she and the others gracefully exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at you. “Well, I suppose I should... take that bath now,” he said.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I'll wait here,” you said softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He stood there for another moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply gave you a nod before retreating into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Desperately, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that the man of your dreams was completely bare just a few feet away. But just after a few minutes, you had to admit that it was pointless, and so, your feet took you to the bathroom once again.

You hesitated outside the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were crossing a line, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.

Hongjoong was sitting in the tub, his back to the door, the water lapping gently around his figure. Steam filled the room, the scent of the same herbs and soaps you previously used in the air. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes closed, and he seemed lost in thought, completely unaware of your presence.

For a moment, you just stood there, silently watching him. His usually sharp features were entirely relaxed, his shoulders sacked as he soaked in the water. You couldn’t help but admire the way the droplets clung to his skin, the way the muscles in his back moved with each breath he took.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you silently crossed the room. The soft pads of your feet made no noise on the stone floor as you approached the tub. Without thinking, you reached for a cloth that was hanging nearby, dipping it into the warm water.

He still hadn’t noticed you as you knelt beside the tub. Your hand hovered for a moment before you gathered the courage to press the cloth gently against his back.

Hongjoong stiffened immediately, his eyes snapping open as he realized someone was there. He turned his head sharply, his eyes wide as he met your gaze.

“Y/N?” His voice was breathless, and he immediately tried to shield his naked body from you. “What are you doing?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d help you relax,” you said softly, your voice trembling with nerves.

Hongjoong’s gaze flicked down to the cloth in your hand and then back to your face. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Y/N… you don’t have to…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as you began to gently scrub his back, your movements slow and careful. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away under your touch.

He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward again as he allowed himself to relax. “You don't have to do this,” he murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced either.

You smiled a little, continuing your work, the cloth gliding over his skin in soothing circles. “Maybe not,” you whispered, “but I wanted to.”

Hongjoong’s breathing was uneven, each exhale shaky as you worked your way across his shoulders, the cloth tracing the lines of his muscles. You could see the way his body tensed, his fists clenching against the edge of the tub as if he was trying to control himself.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. “W-we should really stop… I-”

You gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him almost instantly. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, “I want to… I’m ready.”

His eyes found yours, wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. His gaze searched yours, as if he was trying to find any hint of uncertainty, any reason to stop this before it went too far.

But you didn’t waver. You had been through so much, had faced so many demons from your past, and now, standing here with him, you felt a sense of clarity you hadn’t in a long time. You wanted this, wanted him - wanted to break down the walls you had built so carefully around your heart.

Slowly, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, a shiver running through his body. You could feel his resistance, the way he fought to hold himself back, but there was also something in the way he leaned into your touch, a silent plea for more.

Your lips traveled from his temple to his ear, brushing against the sensitive skin as you whispered, “I know you try to hold yourself back for my sake. But I’m not scared, Joongie. Not anymore.”

Hongjoong’s eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, water cascading off his naked, sculpted body, droplets glistening on his skin in the soft, dim light of the room.

Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly from where you stood. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you close, his wet skin soaking through your clothes as he carried you out the room.

He reached the bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin. You looked up at him, your heart racing as he knelt beside you, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and falling into his eyes. He was completely bare, his body on full display, and yet his focus was entirely on you.

Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours, fighting your own in a battle of dominance you quickly lost.

Hongjoong’s hand moved under your gown, and with a gentle tug, he began to lift it, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pulled it over your head. The cool air hit your newly exposed skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his gaze warmed you instantly. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his eyes so full of love and lust it made you ache.

“You’re so, so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses as he made his way to your collarbone. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt him explore your body with his lips, his hands, his entire being.

He moved lower, his hands sliding over your skin, slowly. You shivered under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

His hands moved delicately, tracing the lines of your body, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin. He was in no rush, savoring it all; every moment, every touch, every breath you took. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was as if he was worshiping you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky, filled with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you… for us.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, reassuring smile. “It already is,” you murmured, your voice filled with the same emotion you saw reflected in his eyes. “You make everything perfect for me, Joongie.”

He smiled, a tender, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter. “I’ve wanted this for so long… wanted you for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I’ve wanted this too… I’ve wanted you.”

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more intense. “I’m scared… of hurting you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Of moving too fast.”

You shook your head gently, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You could never hurt me,” you assured him softly. “I trust you, Hongjoong. I’m ready… because I know these hands of yours could never hurt me like he did.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “I want to love you… properly, Y/N.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and adoration for the man above you. “Then love me, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Love me the way you’ve always wanted to. Make me yours.”

He chuckled, before slowly lowering himself into you. “Silly woman. You've been mine the moment I met you.”

If anyone would've told you you'd ever see your parents on their knees, begging for mercy in front of you, you would've laughed right in their face.

But here you were. Witnessing it at this very moment.

Well, technically it wasn't in front of you - but the Queen, who was looking at them with intense, cold eyes.

You stood to the side, Hongjoong right beside you, close enough to witness every detail, yet far enough to keep the emotional distance you needed to not break down in tears.

The Queen's voice cut through the silence. “You have been called before the court to deliver your testimony. If you lie, it will have severe consequences,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We have gathered here today because a man was killed. Without any evidence or witness testimony, it was decided that Kim Hongjoong was the one responsible and would be hanged for it. Now, after careful investigation, I and everyone else here is fairly confident that this is not what happened. The man who died abused his wife L/N Y/N for close to a decade. And everyone supposedly knew. On the night of the alleged crime, it is to be assumed he came home to beat her once again. Kim Hongjoong was just there at the wrong time. Y/N had to kill her husband in self defense to protect the both of them,” the Queen continued.

The whole room was deadly silent. Only the occasional sobs of your mother could be heard.

“Now I ask of you to truthfully answer my questions”, she said, looking at your parents directly, “is it true that you knew your daughter was getting abused?”

The silence that followed the Queen's question was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Your father kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside your mother.

You remembered the last time you saw him. The moment where he apologized, where you saw the pain in his eyes. But would he also admit to his faults in public?

The Queen's eyes bore into them. She was not just asking for a simple answer; she was demanding the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And there was no escaping it.

Your father was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and strained. “We… we knew,” he confessed, the words stumbling out of him like a boulder finally giving way to gravity. “We knew what was happening, Your Majesty.”

A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom, but you remained still, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth you had been denied for so long was finally laid bare. Your mother’s sobs grew louder, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the reality of what was happening.

The Queen’s gaze did not waver. “And yet, you did nothing to help her?” she pressed, her tone hardening. “You allowed your daughter to suffer for years, without lifting a finger to protect her? Knowing that one day she could possibly be killed?”

Your mother finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. “We… we were afraid,” she stammered, her voice shaking with emotion. “We didn’t know what to do… We thought… we thought it would be worse if we intervened.”

A bitter taste filled your mouth as you listened to their excuses. They had left you to fend for yourself in a nightmare, and had turned their backs on you when you needed them the most.

Even after you tried for months, years to come to terms with their betrayal, it still hurt deeply.

The Queen narrowed her eyes, but her expression gave nothing away. “You thought it would be worse?” she repeated, “Worse than watching your daughter endure unimaginable suffering? Worse than allowing her to be beaten, night after night, while you did nothing?”

Your mother’s tears flowed uncontrollably now, her sobs wracking her body as she nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Your father remained silent, his head hanging low, as if the weight of his guilt was too much to bear.

The Queen’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, her expression softening just slightly as she took in the sight of you standing there, silent and strong beside Hongjoong.

This wasn't the first time you saw that expression on her face, and for a second you were left wondering if, maybe, she understood your pain. Really understood.

From woman to woman, from victim to victim.

“Your Majesty,” your father spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We… we failed her. We know that now. We were wrong, and we are deeply sorry.”

For a second, his eyes found yours. And though you knew you could never forgive them, you saw nothing but love and guilt in your father's eyes.

Maybe in another life, where you as a woman would have more rights, you all could have been a happy, normal family.

Maybe.

“But… There is one last thing I want to do for my daughter,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, if I may…?”

Her gaze flicked towards you. You clutched Hongjoong’s hands tighter, before giving her a final nod.

“Go on,” she said.

Your father hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before speaking again. “I brought them here, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “The rest of the people who stayed quiet. I brought all of them here today.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between your father and you. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her decision. Your eyes widened and you immediately felt a lump form in your throat.

Finally, the Queen nodded, “Bring them in.”

She turned towards the grand double doors at the back of the room, and with a slight motion of her hand, the guards opened them. One by one, a dozen people began to file in, their faces pale and solemn. You recognized each one of them - neighbors, former friends, even the local shopkeepers who had all turned a blind eye to your bruises and hushed cries for help. They looked as though they were walking to their own execution, eyes downcast, hands desperately clutching their clothes.

As they entered, they arranged themselves in a line before you, and then, as if guided by an unspoken command, they all began to bow. The sight of it - the people who had once ignored your pain now bowing before you, in front of the Queen herself - struck you like a blow to the heart.

You tightened your grip on Hongjoong’s hand, your breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of the moment began to settle over you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how much you tried to hold them back, they eventually began to spill over, silently tracing lines down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s hand remained warm and steady in yours, his presence grounding you as you struggled to process the scene before you.

Slowly, an elderly woman who had been your neighbor for years, stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N… we have no excuse for what we did, or rather, what we didn’t do. We failed you, just as your parents did. We saw the signs, but we chose to look away, to pretend it wasn’t our business. And for that… we are truly sorry.”

As everyone in line took their turn to speak, offering their apologies, their regrets, and their shame, the emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. You wept openly now, the sound of your sobs filling the otherwise silent courtroom. These were the apologies you had never expected to hear, the recognition of your suffering that had been denied to you for so many years.

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into him, burying your face in his neck. The tears kept coming, and you let them.

After each person spoke to you, they all remained bowed, waiting for your response. The Queen, too, seemed to be waiting, her gaze fixed on you.

You took a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to find the right words. But there were no words that could truly capture the enormity of what you were feeling. So instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging their apologies once and for all.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice raw and hoarse. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear… even if it’s too late.”

There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, but the weight of the moment still pressed down heavily on you. The Queen stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. “You have all acknowledged your failings here today,” she said, “A man has died, and even if Y/N pulled the trigger, everyone here knows that at the end of the day, she remains an innocent woman. A woman who had to save herself because no one else did.”

As her final words settled over the courtroom, you felt a deep, heavy relief wash over you. The people who had failed you had spoken their apologies, and though it could never erase the pain you endured, the recognition of your suffering soothed your wounded soul.

Hongjoong kept a protective arm around you as you walked outside. The air outside the courtroom was crisp, the world feeling both too small and too vast after what had just happened. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned just in time to see your sister Miyeon rushing towards you, tears already streaming down her face. Her belly was still slightly rounded from her recent pregnancy, and in her arms, she cradled her newborn, your tiny niece or nephew, who was bundled up warmly against her chest.

Miyeon threw her arms around you, careful not to hurt her child, pulling you into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs, her voice filled with guilt and anguish. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know everything that was happening. If I had known, I would have been there for you. I should have been there for you!”

You held her tightly, your own tears spilling over once more as you buried your face in her shoulder. “Miyeon, it’s okay,” you whispered, even as your voice trembled. “I know you would’ve helped me if you could. You were far away, and you had no idea. You were also preparing to be a mother… I never wanted to burden you with my pain.”

“But you’re my sister,” she cried, pulling back to look at you with red, puffy eyes. “I should have been here. I should have done something, anything, to protect you. How could I have let this happen to you?”

You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known, Miyeon. None of this was your fault. I don’t blame you, not even for a second.”

Before you could respond, her husband, Gikwang, who had been standing a few steps behind her, joined the two of you. His expression was filled with compassion and guilt as he handed you a small, trembling bundle. “We… we brought something for you,” he said gently. “One of Hongjoong’s neighbors found him in his house and thought you’d want him back.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he placed the tiny, trembling creature in your arms.

“Benji!” you cried out.

The moment he was in your arms, the dam you had been holding back broke entirely. You clutched him to you, your sobs echoing through the quiet corridor as you cried even harder than you just moments before.

Hongjoong stood beside you, his hand on your back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you cradle Benji. Miyeon wrapped her arms around both you and Benji, and for a long, long while, you simply stood there, the three of you wrapped in a comforting embrace. As you finally pulled back, wiping your tears away, you looked at Miyeon and Hongjoong, then down at Benji, who was now purring softly in your arms, and also at Gikwang and their newborn child.

With a trembling but genuine smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Miyeon. Thank you for being here. And thank you for bringing him back to me."

Miyeon nodded, her own smile breaking through her tears. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what. You and I will keep in contact, right? You'll come visit me and I'll visit you, right? And… and you and Hongjoong will be happy together, right?”

As you wiped the last of your tears away, you gave Miyeon a firm nod. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “We will keep in contact. I’ll visit you, and you can come visit us. And yes… Hongjoong and I will be happy together. We’ll find a way to move forward.”

Miyeon smiled through her tears, her grip on her newborn tightening slightly as she nodded back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “That’s all I want for you, Y/N. To be happy. You deserve that more than anything.”

Gikwang placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. “You’re strong, Y/N,” he said softly. “And even if your parents and Jisoo aren't included, you have us that care about you, no matter how far apart we may be.”

You took a long, deep breath before looking down at Benji, who was still purring contentedly in your arms, then up at Hongjoong, who met your gaze with a look of unwavering support and love.

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong murmured, his hand gently squeezing yours. “It’s time to head home.”

You nodded. Turning back to your sister, you reached out and gave her one last, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised, “until then, take care. And also of your bab-”

“Jihoon. His name is Jihoon,” she whispered, carefully cradling the baby in her arms.

You smiled warmly at her and her child. “Take care of Jihoon too, okay?”

With that, you and Hongjoong turned and began to walk away, Benji still cradled safely in your arms.

“Hey, Joongie?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Do you think Django is doing well?

He laughed. “Oh, I know he is. That damn goat is probably terrorizing the whole town by now.”

My Dearest Husband,

I hope this letter finds you well and you are not too weary from your travels. Though I'm proud the Queen has once again asked for one of your dresses, the house feels a little quieter without you here, though Miyeon, Gikwang, and little Jihoon are doing their best to fill the void. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown since you last saw him – he’s already running around like he owns the place. God, I’ve had to take more breaks than usual chasing after him. I’m sure you can guess why.

Miyeon has been a great help, though, and Gikwang even managed to fix the squeaky gate that’s been bothering you for months. We spent yesterday walking along the shore, Jihoon squealing with delight every time the waves came in. It made me think of how much you would’ve enjoyed the sight with him together. The sea is as beautiful as ever, though not nearly as beautiful as it is when I get to share it with you.

Oh, our little shop is thriving more than I could’ve imagined. Your teachings on sewing have paid off wonderfully, and the people can’t seem to get enough of the dresses I make. I'm so honored, though I still try and convince them yours are so much better. They keep saying how elegant the stitching is and how there’s something special about each piece. I always smile and tell them it’s because they were made with love – a love you taught me with every thread and needle. Though I do admit, I’ve had to slow down a bit these days. The shop misses you, too, but it’s running smoothly, and I can’t wait for you to see how well it's been going.

I know you were worried about leaving me alone, but honestly, my love, you overthink too much. I think you forget sometimes just how capable I am. I may be waddling more than walking at this point, but I can still manage just fine, especially with Miyeon here to keep an eye on me. But I can’t help but smile when I think about how you’re already fretting over our little one, even before she’s born. You and your little princess – I can just see it now, the way you’ll spoil her rotten with all those tiny dresses you’ve been making. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to see you two together, hand in hand, as you show her the world.

She’s been kicking more these past few days, and it hurts like crazy. I can't wait to finally meet her. I’m already dreaming of the day when we’ll finally get to meet her. I know you’re just as eager as I am – I can see it in the way you smile whenever you talk about her. Our little princess. I think she knows, too, because she always seems to calm down when I think about you.

So, my love, don’t worry too much about us. We’re safe, happy, and counting down the days until you’re back home. The sea is waiting, the shop is thriving, and most importantly, your little family is here, eagerly anticipating your return. I’ll keep everything running smoothly until you’re back – though I must admit, I’m looking forward to resting when our little one decides it’s time to make her grand entrance.

Take care of yourself, and don’t let business keep you away for too long. We miss you dearly.

With all my love,

Your Wife

137 notes · View notes

twisted-in-the-wind · 3 months

Text

Raphael's Nose

I came across this post and it got me thinking. https://www.tumblr.com/deardarlingdevil/732586051569352704?source=share

In the post, deardarlingdevil, compared Raphael to Haarlep in both the male and female form and suggested that Raphael is insecure about some features including the bump on his nose, the small notch at the tip and his cleft chin. Not needing any excuse, I began to gaze, uh, examine Raphael's face in detail and I had an immediate thought.

Raphael's nose looks like it was broken, like Luke Wilson's nose. It would explain why Haarlep would have a totally different nose, so I looked it up. It is often hereditary but can also be caused by injury. https://www.healthline.com/health/dorsal-hump#causes "Trauma or injury to your nose can also cause a dorsal hump to develop. A bruise on your nose or a broken nose can result in a dorsal hump if the cartilage and bone heal unevenly."

That made me curious so I began to look at other parts of his face and I think, I may be completely wrong of course, but I think Raphael has faint, silvery scars to his forehead and the left side of his face. The right side is clear but the lines go from top of his head to his nose and from the top of his head down to almost his jaw in some places. Also, is his jaw uneven? On the left side of his face as well. Could Haarlep just be an undamaged Raphael?

I zoomed in on my phone which is how I noticed all of this. Am I nuts? I fully believe Raphael has experienced some gnarly shit including whatever made him leave his Dad's Circle of Hell. Cambions also don't have a great experience of life since their mothers often die at birth and their infernal parent usually doesn't give a shit. And then their his Father who can only be described as temperamental. In DnD, Raphael is described as being favoured by his father but by the time of BG3, that's clearly not the case. What kinds of fights has he been in?

What do you think? Am I seeing things that aren't there?

Haarlep for comparison:

EDIT: Hey, I found another high quality pic with a good look at his face and there are no lines. While I love the idea, I don't think I can say that the lines are scars with any certainty unless I find something else in future that corroborates it. I still love it as a headcanon though and I genuinely think that his nose looks broken af. Hopefully the idea is still inspiring to you guys.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #bg3 headcanons #haarlep

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jasonswh0rre · 7 months

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Jason Todd Headcanons

🌸 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 🌸

ꨄ He likes to rub your thighs when he's contemplating sometimes he might do it un subconsciously

ꨄ I think he would like forehead kisses they give him a sense of comfort

ꨄ Better at showing rather then telling his emotions

❥ (for ex: say it’s Valentine’s Day rather then tell you Happy Valentine’s Day he might surprise you with a rose or chocolate and think nothing of it)

ꨄ After care would be him putting the covers on you and kissing your forehead he might rub your shoulders while you rested on his chest

ꨄ Teaches you self defense and how to shoot a gun so you can better protect yourself when he’s not there

ꨄ As a father, Jason's protective instincts are dialed to 100

ꨄ Behind closed doors he can be a teddy bear, and a bit clingy

ꨄ A lazy day for Jason looks like in the bed with you sleeping by his side while he reads a good book

🔥 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 🔥

★ Puts too much pressure and emphasis on the idea of weakness and strength forcing himself to be strong to protect you

★ Panic attacks himself awake

★ He might put you through the ringer to just see if you'll try to leave him, Jason is doing this because after all he's been through he doesn't want to open his heart to the possibility that someone is trying to reach towards him

❥ (So you better keep my man happy 😒)

★ I think possessiveness and abandonment issues play hand in hand like he might not be there for you consistently but he is expecting you to still remain loyal to only him

★ I have this idea that he’d probably have your home bugged so he can see you and know what’s going on should he need to protect you

★ Should there be a moment when you are pregnant he might leave the decision to you but that doesn’t mean he won’t not encourage you to terminate the pregnancy

★ If you keep it he will not be that present physically and when he is it might take him emotionally a while to adjust. He might still try to provide you with the financial aid tho

★ If there was ever a moment where he scared you he would see the fear in your eyes and just leave without saying another word giving you and him space for an unknown prolonged period of time

★ Is prone to dissociation or bursts of rage if he’s reminded of his trauma

☀️ 𝖲𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖾－𝗈𝖿－𝖫𝗂𝖿𝖾 ☀️

★ Smokes when he’s in stressful situations but does tries not to make it a habit

❥ (it’s canon he smokes since it’s implied he was the hooded man in the corner)

★ His go to alcoholic beverage is whiskey

★ Favorite meal: pot roast

★ I know Arkham Jason was never put in the Lazarus pit and never got that white streak we all know and love so I headcanon that instead he probably has peppers of gray hair

I think in the beginning when he checked his reflection seeing that he had gray hair may have left him self-conscious so he'd probably dyed it black but over time he lets it show mainly from just not caring anymore

★ Wears a back brace to correct his posture also has a back brace embedded into his suits

Injuries he potentially could have would be several scars across the body, minor joint pain/swelling, shoulder discomfort

★ If Jason was a father I've always pictured him as a girl dad 🎀 I can't explain it

#red hood #arkhamverse #arkham knight #jason todd #headcanon #red hood x reader #x reader #dc comics #dc universe #2nd robin #arkham batman #jason peter todd

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solangelotus · 13 days

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seven devils (part one)

luke castellan x reader (gender neutral)

my mind (now)

summary: capture the flag brings injuries plus shared feelings and memories between you and luke. you once loved him and try your hardest to understand where you went wrong, all while trying to change his fate. (lovers to enemies series)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: starts right before tlt, apollo!reader, lots of angst, graphic fighting, injury + healing descriptions, fluffy memories, mentions of character deaths (thalia) - also mentions alison, the new character being introduced in s2 of the show and using her as a plot point worked out well

author's note: lovers to enemies fic for luke is just too perfect 🤌 also it’s great because it’s therapeutic for me after going through my own lovers to enemies!

masterlist | series masterlist

there’s a chill in the air that makes it feel like the dead of winter instead of a friday in late may. you suppose you can blame it on the fact that your perch in which you sat during each capture the flag game was high up in the treetops. it was a perfect spot; forty feet above zeus’s fist, and you could see zephyros creek, the boundary.

the flag was wedged into the top of the rock pile, but the game had started over an hour ago and no one was to be seen yet aside from your teammates. sweat beads on your forehead from the red-plumed helmet, but you know if you take it off it will only increase the chill in your bones.

a crunch echoes across the woods, and you spy your brothers, will solace and lee fletcher, hastily grabbing their bows from opposite sides of the woods. you knew michael yew was nearby in a treetop much like you, but you had yet to spot him. he was backup for little will; the eleven-year-old was proving to be an exceptional medic, but he had not inherited great aim like most of your siblings.

you spot a pair of blue plumes by the boundary, one much shorter than the other. annabeth is the shorter one, you can tell from the careful, calculated steps. the only other person who always searches for the flag that would be so careless with his steps is chris rodriguez. but if he was with annabeth, then where was luke?

“fuck,” you mutter and start scaling down the tree as quickly as you can, pulling your bow from over your shoulder. crouching on a branch halfway down the tree, you load a sonic bow and watch the muddy ground. it had rained the day before, which attributed to the chill in the air. you spot the footprints and let the arrow fly before you can think twice.

annabeth wasn’t wearing her cap which meant someone was, and you hear a groan over the loud blast of music that affected the empty ground. will begins to run towards the area, and once you make it to the forest floor, you sprint towards the pile of rocks. will’s small legs fail to carry him as fast as yours and he yells, “y/n, what’s happening?!”

“castellan is,” you yell back and ready another arrow, trying your best to abide by the ten-yard rule. you watch carefully; lee intercepts will and tells him to find michael to distract the others, and then makes his way to your side.

“where is he?” your brother asks and you shake your head. scanning the ground where the footsteps end, you pull another arrow out of your quiver. unfortunately, even after years you still knew his body like the back of your hand.

you had been his doctor from the day he arrived until he was seventeen, but it would be superficial to say that’s why you knew his body so well. a tattoo lay on the inside of his left ankle from when you were fifteen and took fake ids to a sketchy parlor ten miles from camp. a crooked line scarred his upper thigh from one of the first times he gave you sword fighting lessons. just above the mole you used to adore on his right forearm lays a burn mark from the time you attempted to make cookies together.

you sigh and look at a tree behind the spot to confirm the right height you need before you let the arrow fly. worse comes to worse, it just flies over his head. but you knew better, and the arrow did exactly what you planned; it knocked the hat off of his head and into the mud beside him. “always good with a bow, but never with the sword.”

you just shake your head and reach for your dagger-lined belt. lee knocks an arrow but you put your hand out to him. “it’s a diversion, lee. he’s here to distract us so annabeth and chris can swoop in. i’ll fight him off and you stay on guard.”

“still thinking highly of yourself, i see,” luke grumbles. you were both popular at camp to say the least, both for your welcoming personalities but also for your ongoing rivalry. popular for the worst reasons, seeing as you two being anywhere near each other usually leads to chaos.

“i literally heard you and chris talking about it at the campfire last night.”

“it’s kind of old news at this point,” lee shrugs, and you hate that he’s always a voice of reason, “you two always seek each other out, even if it’s not explicitly planned.”

“lee,” you plead, and gesture to the flag. he nods and you turn back to face the son of hermes, taking small strides to him.

“did you hear who’s coming back this summer?” luke asks with a smirk. you start to think throwing one of your daggers at his face might be worth the loss of dessert privileges.

“i’m not here to talk, castellan.”

“alison’s coming back,” he informs, a boyish grin spreads across his face but doesn’t reach his hungry eyes. you gulp and suddenly you feel like you are sixteen again; a joy in the silent pain he can see in you. he knows you see him more clearly than anyone else has.

you feel the dagger in your hand start to shake. love and hate feel too similar; your pulse speeds the longer he looks at you. you hate yourself for the way he can still get under your skin after so many years. “why would i care?” you try your best to sound stern, but the tone of your voice betrays you.

“why wouldn’t you?”

“she’s not my friend.”

“we’re all well aware,” he spits out, his eyes drifting to where lee stands in earshot of you both. “you spoke so highly of her just to abandon her at a time of need. that’s why no one trusts you now.”

“i never did anything to her! you know this! the two of you lied to me, and lied to everyone about me!” you yell at him and tighten your grip on your dagger. he draws his sword and you contemplate pulling your own, but he was right about one thing: you were never good with your sword. you wished you could go back in time and relish the moment you sliced his upper thigh instead of feeling bad for it back then.

“i can’t believe it’s been three years and you’re still so delusional,” he laughs, and you throw your first dagger at the hand that holds his sword. he was caught off guard, but he was relying on the old mindset you had where you hated hurting people. the fact of the matter was you did, and you knew that was why the dagger flew just a few inches from the target. “still can’t aim for shit either.”

“shut up,” you breathe out, and pull your sword from its scabbard at your waist. the bow and daggers had been a gift from your father, and truthfully, you had extremely good aim. you never would have received two gifts from him without such a talent. deep down you were still a medic, and people were so different from bloodthirsty monsters who gave you no choice.

your attempts to deflect luke’s swings are futile, he’s always been quicker, better, and more efficient with a sword. your bow was no match in close-up combat. as a child of apollo, you were born for the outskirts of battle, not for the frontline. but you hated looking like a fool.

like other demigods, your restlessness helped you in battle. sure it helped the children of the war deities more, you had seen the flip switch in clarisse, silena, and annabeth, especially. their godly power filling them has always been fascinating, even when you’re on the receiving end. no one strategized like annabeth, her intelligence with the field and for all weapons was scary. clarisse was passionate, stronger than most, and she was a force just like her father. silena, and all of her siblings, got teased for their bright pink armor and for the vanity that people assumed of them. but you had seen the rage that filled silena’s eyes when she was challenged, the rage that came with being the daughter of the love goddess who was also a war goddess. aphrodite and her children were discounted for their skills, but there’s a reason the team that included cabin 10 usually won. you were thankful the aphrodite cabin adorned the red plumes today.

there was no switch in your siblings. predictability was a blessing and a curse; prophetic thoughts and visions could be hard to interpret. overthinking during a battle affected many of the children of apollo; there was no changing fate.

no one – not even lee who had the best intuition out of anyone – could have predicted your next move as you successfully ducked under luke’s sword as he swung it at your helmeted head. he was the greatest swordsman in 300 years, but he was playing dirty right now. who were you to make that easier?

you realize the scream you hear is luke’s as a dagger in your non-dominant hand stabs into his thigh. when did you grab the blade? when did the flip you didn’t know existed inside you switch?

his sword fell to the ground when he clasped his thigh and you dive to grab for it. you hear lee yell your name, but for once you have the upper hand on luke and you refuse to let it go. “no!”

luke’s voice echoes in your mind as you grab his sword, and he grabs the back of your armor in an attempt to pull you away. he uses his free hand to yank off your helmet, and he pushes you back to the ground. the breath is knocked from your lungs and you roll over onto your back to look at him. the impact had released his sword from your grip and your head swam as he held his sword out towards your face. fear swims within you. how far would he go?

the conch sounds breaks through the camp and you can hear cheering, but you know it’s from your team. will and michael successfully kept chris and annabeth distracted. luke is furious, you can tell from the way his nose crinkles and the furrow between his brows. he stabs his sword into the ground right beside you and you flinch. “we would have fucking won if it wasn’t for you!”

“it’s just a game, luke,” you groan out, your chest and lungs still burning. you try to sit up but you feel so delirious, you knew your head had hit the ground but you didn’t realize you had hit it so hard. where was the adrenaline you had just a few moments ago?

“if it’s just a game, then why would you stab me?!”

“you swung your sword at my head!” you yell, wincing at your volume. you hear footsteps and silently pray that it’s lee coming to intercept after the announcement of your team’s victory.

“because you messed me up, you fucked me over! how dare you?!” he yells at you, the tears begin to well up in your eyes. his narrow at you and you notice him clench his fists; this isn’t about the game.

“how dare i? how dare fucking you?!” you scream back until you feel a hand grab yours. you swear your vision briefly goes out as you quickly turn your head to face your brother. lee is at your side and shushing you as he pushes your hair from your face.

“luke, go,” lee demands, earning himself a scoff and eye roll from the older boy. you close your eyes, trying to steady your persistent, uneven breaths. stomping fills your ears as lee helps you to your feet until your siblings find you and help get you to the infirmary.

the cabins involved on the blue team sulk at the campfire and chris notes the bandage wrapped around luke’s thigh. annabeth is pissed; her hat is muddy and her team lost. “i’m sorry, beth.”

“it’s your fault we lost,” she reminds him, using a rag to get the mud off of the gift from her mother.

“you got distracted too!”

“no,” she narrows her eyes at him, “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to act like it’s my fault too when you have this ridiculous vendetta against y/n. you need to get over whatever happened years ago with them. you suck at games, you are weaker than you used to be, and your only motivation is to get back at them. what happened to glory? to pride?”

“you don’t understand.”

“then make me,” she grits her teeth, shoving the towel and hat into his lap, “and clean my hat. you should have picked it up the second it fell.”

“they cornered me!”

“the best swordsman in centuries supposedly got cornered and failed to defend himself and retrieve his little sister’s most prized possession? if y/n is as horrible at battling as you make everyone believe then you wouldn’t have gotten your butt kicked. get over yourself, luke.”

annabeth rushes away from the fire and towards the infirmary. when the bad blood began between you and luke, annabeth told you both she would never pick sides. she and you grew close after her first night at camp when she was mean and you still showed her nothing but kindness. you filled the older sibling void that she had lost with thalia.

when she enters the infirmary, she sees you laughing while laying in a bed with lee. she smiles at the joy in your face, at the crinkles by your eyes when you laugh. she loves the wide grin the children of apollo have, and how it strikes happiness in all those who experience it. without even looking at the door, you could sense her presence; something you and lee seemed to experience was being able to sense those nearby. you wonder if it’s a gift from your father to be able to sense someone before they can approach you. maybe it’s a gift to prevent the healer from injury in a battle.

annabeth slides into the chair at your bedside and she accepts the hand you stick out for her, “how are you?”

“i’m fine now, much better after some ambrosia and a snack.”

“what happened?”

“nothing, it’s alright.” a sinking feeling fills annabeth’s stomach with your reassurance and forced smile. something is wrong. luke was quick to blame you, to say you tricked him and hurt him without a second glance, but you were the one in the infirmary. he had a singular bandage on his thigh. his anger was getting worse, he wasn’t pulling punches with anyone as he used to. “annabeth, what’s wrong?”

“i’m worried,” her voice trembles and you practically push lee out of bed. he accepts the hint and goes to the office to finish the paperwork that comes each friday night after capture the flag. you pull annabeth’s hand and she crawls into the creaky infirmary bed. “there’s something wrong.”

you wrap your arms around the small girl and press your lips to her hairline. annabeth is strong, both physically and emotionally, but she always holds it in. she guards herself heavily, but you have always been someone she needs not to protect herself against. “i…i know.”

“does lee know his fate?” annabeth questions. she continues to identify the distance in her brother, how he sneaks away alone at night. she used to believe it was to be with someone, but he was too good to cheat on alison; they had been together for three years. annabeth knows lee is the closest camp has to a prophet outside of the oracle.

“no,” you answer truthfully. you hope your expression stays balanced, that she will not see what you omit. that instead of lee, it’s you who sees his fate.

back at the campfire, luke eyes get lost in the flames. his hands move the towel absentmindedly against the gift from athena, and he silently prays to kronos to wish that his weakness can disappear. the warm flicker of light reminds him of sunlight, of the light that everyone sees in you. the light is his weakness, the hurt in your eyes fills him with guilt. but you are too good.

he has always known you were too good. the trust you have in the divine fills him with disgust. he hates that you convinced him to get that stupid wing tattooed on his ankle, and he hates that he convinced you to get a sun on your own. his naivete as a child was blinding.

you fought tooth and nail to convince him of being loved, of being good, and he accepted it. he believed it too. the lord of time could never change his fate, only hasten it with the vow he has taken.

he heard everything you told him, but maybe if he had truly listened then he could be good like you. maybe he could have ended up as kind and loving as the first night you met.

you had snuck away from the campfire when you could sense some commotion. team blue had won capture the flag, but your camp hoodie had gotten dingy – you wanted nothing more than to shower. the big house was just a short walk from the campfire, and inside were extra toiletries that you were going to need.

a commotion at the top of half-blood hill steered your attention away from the prospect of showering. you could see a few shadows in the moonlight and began sprinting towards the hill, pulling your sword from its sheath in the process. you would be the first to admit you were shit with a sword, but your bow and arrows were back in your cabin so you had to make due.

luke was leading a limping annabeth over the border when you arrived on the hill, and he couldn’t focus on anything other than your face. he didn’t care about the beaten-up sweater or the jeans caked in mud; he didn’t even care to draw his weapon when you pointed your sword at him. he saw nothing but you, your essence, and the concern firm in your eyes. there was no malice in the face threatening him with a sword; he knew you could never hurt them.

the moonlight created a soft glow around your face, bouncing off the snowflakes that began littering your hair. he saw your mouth move, but everything was quiet, everything was still. he was sure you were a child of aphrodite; no one could look so perfect and disheveled. his fourteen-year-old self was sure he would never meet anyone so beautiful ever again. “hello?”

“hi,” he breathed out as you walked closer to him. your voice was firm, but the weapon in your hand was beginning to shake. the fearlessness you tried to present yourself with was fading fast, and he was trying hard not to break down at the thought of thalia and grover not being beside him.

“are you okay?”

“did you seriously just ask that?” the small girl beside him asked as tears streamed down her face. your heart hurt for her, she couldn’t have been any older than eight you guessed. you put your sword back in its sheath while she tried her best to keep a stern expression. her stare was harsh but you could tell she was deflecting from something.

“s-sorry. i, uh, mean are you hurt? we have an infirmary.”

“no.”

“yes,” luke corrected, and you gestured toward the building beside the big house. bleating sounds fill the air, and before you can comprehend it, a young satyr runs quickly through the barrier and nearly topples into you. he’s hyperventilating and his face is covered in tears and grime.

“grover?!”

“y/n!” he exclaimed and wrapped you in a hug. he’s still deeply upset and in shock, it doesn’t take a genius to see it.

“grover, are-” you’re cut off with a deafening scream. it wasn’t until later on that you realized it had been your own. lightning struck the ground right at the barrier, and a tree slowly erupted into form and took shape. fear filled your body. you had never been at the scene of new arrivals, let alone at such an event. capture the flag was the extent of the danger you faced – this was beyond it. grover wrapped his arms around you, and you looked at him.

the fear that filled your body was dissipating. it was useless in a time when two demigods were in need right beside you – sobs wracked both of their bodies as they held each other. the girl’s ankle was visibly swollen, and the boy had many gashes all over his body. you and lee had been training for this; this was your moment to put your parentage to use. “grover, if you’re not hurt then go find chiron. tell him what’s happened while i get these two to the infirmary.”

grover trots off in the direction of the campfire, and the boy picks the girl up as you hastily walk toward the infirmary. it was unlocked, thankfully, but you knew your sister, val, was at the campfire. until she, the main healer, came back you were on your own. you introduced yourself, and got both of them onto a bed together.

“i’m luke. luke castellan,” he told you as you inspected the small girl’s ankle. purple bruises began to litter her deep skin and she winced as you pressed lightly on the skin. you grabbed the bandage roll and started to wrap and secure it tightly on her ankle to stabilize it. she held her hand out and you placed a square of ambrosia in it. “this is annabeth chase.”

“you’re brave, annabeth. your ankle is definitely broken but it’ll heal too fast for a cast. the first few days at camp are overwhelming as it is, so i imagine you are going to be forced to take it easy anyway with this injury,” you explained to her, but she continued to glare at you.

luke was a much easier patient. he was silent, only whispering a response to your questioning here and there. you figured it was easier to stay silent while being stitched up anyway, so you gave him some slack for it. you finished stitching a deeper cut on his arm, and moved to a gash on his leg. it was so infected you nearly gagged, so you grabbed a canteen of nectar and began to flush the wound. he sighed in relief and looked down at you. “how old are you?”

“thirteen,” you answered and grabbed a new needle and more surgical thread, “how old are the both of you?”

“she’s seven, and i’m fourteen,” he grimaced as you embedded the needle into his skin. you assumed he was your age, but you were glad your guess was right for the both of them. “how do you know what to do?”

“my dad is apollo.”

“oh, mine is hermes.”

“who’s yours, annabeth?”

“thalia’s was zeus,” she said instead, and your brows furrowed at the both of them.

“who’s thalia?”

“the tree that made you scream,” annabeth huffed and rolled her eyes.

“daughter of athena?”

“how did you know?” she asked and finally her facade fell. she looked startled and like she was ready to start fighting again.

“my best friend is a daughter of athena, so your sister. she’s a lot like you. her name is alison,” she smiled at you. chiron walked in through the infirmary doors with val, lee, and grover hot on his hooves. val quickly started to inspect your work and gave you a high five once she saw how well you had done.

luke watched the smile on your face grow and he felt his heart constrict. he should have known from the second he saw you that you were the child of apollo; it explained the glow and warmth you gave off upon seeing you. he was grateful it was you who stumbled upon them; you were a great distraction from the grief that began to fill him.

“do you still love him?” you think about her words. about the little luke, you knew when you were just thirteen and fourteen, about the luke you met that first night.

annabeth stares at your vacant, slack face with hooded eyes, the tears slowly streaming as she tries to choke back the anxieties that fill her. she’s wisdom’s daughter, yet she feels like she has no idea how to get the answer to this problem. returning your stare to her, you release yourself of the reverie you found yourself in. “i believe it’s my fate.”

↬ next

#tomi writes #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x apollo!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fanfic #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell fanfic #luke fic recs

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perkypeony · 3 months

Text

𝕐𝕆𝕌'ℝ𝔼 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕎𝔼𝔸𝕂

Zeni'n Naoya x girlfriend reader

The mission was tough, but you managed to exorcise the curse. However, you couldn't avoid getting heavily injured. The curse's sharp claw pierced through your body, but you were lucky that it missed your vital organs. You also got a long cut on your forehead along with a few bruises here and there on your body.

"I'm sorry I can't make your scars go away," Shoko said as she finished healing your injuries with her reverse curse technique. "But you may go home now."

"Thanks, Shoko. I'd be a goner without you," you replied with a warm smile.

You then returned to your apartment. You hissed in pain as you bent down to take off your black ankle boots. You stopped by the kitchen for a glass of water before going to the bathroom to take a shower. You sighed when you saw your bloody outfit; you definitely had to use a huge amount of detergent to get rid of the smell and the stains.

You looked at your face in the mirror, slowly unwrapping the bandage from your forehead. You examined the tiny bruise on your jawline and the very visible long scar from the cut on your forehead. "Fuck…" you muttered under your breath. Why, instead of other places, did the curse choose to ruin your beautiful face? After cleaning yourself up, you get into an oversized cartoon T-shirt and black shorts.

You plopped on the bed, phone in hand, planning to order your dinner. Suddenly, a message popped up. It was Naoya. 𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣?

Tonight? Oh, your movie night. But no! He couldn't see you like this. You decided to tell him that you were tired from today's mission and asked him if he could wait until the weekend.

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙚. 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙠𝙖𝙮? 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙞𝙘 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩? 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩.

Shit. You couldn't risk him seeing your injuries. What if he thought you were weak? What if he hated you after this? Would he dump you and leave for someone else?

“Naoya~ Can you still not get over the fact that I kicked your ass yesterday? C’mon, stop training and let’s go grab something to eat!” you teased him as you elbowed his left arm.

“Can't you stop annoying me?” Naoya's face was screaming FUCK OFF at you. You chuckled, loving all his reactions. You had always loved teasing him ever since the first day in Kyoto Jujutsu High. Since Naoya is the next head of the Zenin clan, you have already heard about him and his awful attitude, especially towards women. He despises women and looks down on them; for him, their job is only to please their husbands.

“Okay, okay. Chill. You did great yesterday. It's me who played dirty by tickling you,” you said, worried that you might have pushed the wrong button. “Let me treat you to sushi as an apology.”

“No need. I'll pay,” he replied sternly.

“But—”

“Shut your fucking mouth and let's go.”

You walked behind him, trying to catch up with his long stride. A smile crept on your blushed face. Naoya could be a nice person, at least when he was around you. He just didn't know how to show it, or he just literally sucked at it.

After a few minutes of debating on how you would explain your situation to him, you told him that you were too shy to send him pictures right now.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙙𝙙. 𝙒𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

You palmed your face when you realized how stupid your excuse was. You’d been dating him since the last year of Jujutsu High, and you had exchanged pictures with him so many times before.

You finally told him to give you 30 seconds to snap a picture. You went to a corner of your bedroom where the lighting was bad and used your hair to cover as much of the bandage as you could. You then took a picture with your left hand on your jawline, making it look like you were trying to be cute instead of covering up your bruise. You sent him the picture after you were satisfied that your injuries were barely visible. Now you could only hope that he wouldn't stare at your picture for too long, or worse, zoom in.

𝙄'𝙢 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧.

Panic set in. That wasn't the reply you wanted to see. You began pacing back and forth in your apartment. How could you explain? What would he say?

About 20 minutes later, your doorbell finally rang, and you opened it to find Naoya standing there, his expression unreadable. "Can I come in?"

You made a gesture for him to come inside and closed the door as he walked in. "Naoya, I..." Your voice caught in your throat, and suddenly the truth spilt out. "I got injured during the mission. I didn't want you to see me weak and so pathetic."

He didn't speak for a long moment, his gaze piercing through you. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped forward and pulled you into a gentle embrace. "You're not weak," he murmured against your hair. "You're strong. It's okay to get hurt sometimes. Even I do."

Surprised tears welled in your eyes as relief flooded through you. "You're not mad?"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm proud of you. You know I wouldn't date someone I consider weak."

His fingers brushed lightly over the bandage, his touch surprisingly tender. "Let me take care of you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let me be here for you."

#naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #shoko ieiri

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clare-875 · 8 days

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Until the End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 18

[On the Run]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary:

"You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Seventeen] <--> [Chapter Nineteen]

_____

Warnings: Canonical Violence, Descriptions of Torture, Injuries

You sit in a darkened room, changing out of your torn shirt before replacing it with a new one, glad to see that the cut on your arm was only shallow and had already healed into a scar. The scratch along your cheek had faded the same way as you grabbed some alcohol and a cloth, gently dabbing away at the remaining blood. We were now in a hideout in the woods, a bit away from Trost. In the aftermath of Eren and Historia getting abducted, we interrogated Dimo Reeves, a merchant who led the Reeves Company. He was the man who had captured Jean and Armin, mistaking them for Eren and Historia.

In the integration, we learned that he was forced to help the Military Police as his life and his son's life were put on the line. Levi has used this as leverage, with the proposal that in exchange for their support, we would provide protection and help in the rebuilding of Trost. He had agreed. Dimo and his son Flegel had gone and retrieved two Interior Military Police, Ralph and Sannes, who were primarily responsible for the torture and death of Pastor Nick. They had lured them here in the guise that he knew of Levi's location. Now, they were each locked in a cellar in the basement.

You sigh, stretching above your head in exhaustion; it was going to be another long night. Just as you go to the door of the room, however, it opens, and Levi walks in. He looks up in surprise, not thinking you would be present. You examined his face, and you were glad to see the cut on his forehead was clean and had stopped bleeding. "Hey, there you are [y/n]," he says as his sharp eyes skim your face, landing on the healing scar on your cheek. "Yeah, sorry to keep you waiting, Levi," you say, walking towards him, not missing the brief flash of conflict that lies deep in his eyes. "Are you okay?" you ask, concerned. If someone else had looked at him, he would have seemed like he had the same bored look he had always had. But after knowing him for so long, you could notice the slight change in expression no matter how much he tried to act nonchalant.

He looked up at you, eyes stormy and tense before he sighed. "Nothing," he muttered before his face soured. "Just seeing the old man again..." you nodded, seeing the hatred burning in his eyes. You reached up to touch his face, causing him to look up. "That piece of shit, saying all those damn things about you," Levi gritted his teeth at the memory. You smile at him, shaking your head, "I don't mind, Levi. It doesn't faze me-" Levi cut you off, "I mind," he said, frowning. You look up to see his sharp eyes and the dull light of the moon reflecting off of them. You sigh, "I don't blame you, Levi," you continue when you see the conflict in his eyes. "I was just surprised he actually knew who I was. I guess when he left the Underground, he didn't leave for good." You remember Kenny's words that he had visited; it made you shiver, thinking he was unknowingly watching the both of you in the Underground.

You let your hands fall to his hands as you squeeze them tightly. "I'm going to have to start torturing the damn Military Police soon," Levi mutters as you remember back to the two men captured beneath us. You let out an emotionless laugh at his words and hum back in reply. "You don't have to watch, you know," he says, eyes darkening, no doubt thinking of the men in the basement too. You smile before moving forward and capturing his lips briefly, his stare now soft. "I know."

.....

You lean against the wall as you see Levi tugging at his pair of gloves, ready to continue torturing the man, Sannes, in front of you; he had been at it for ages. Suddenly, you heard a door slam, and you turned, startled, only to see it was Hange who had barged their way in. "Sorry, I'm late! You're still going at it?" Levi turns, looking at Hange with a bored look in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm pretty new to this." Hange steps forward towards the man confined to his chair, "Sannes! You should know I'm also a novice at human torture, so please bear with me!" You sigh at their disturbing words, knowing that despite Levi's constant annoyance at Hange, they complimented each other in a horrifying way. Hange reaches for some tools that were laid out before getting ready.

"Wait! What do you even want!? Who the hell tortures without asking questions?!" Levi looks up at that. "Oh, right... We do have some questions for you." You tense at the tone of his words. "Where are Eren and Historia? Why are you after Historia? What's the Reiss Family?" Hange doesn't even give him a second to answer as they scream out, "Too slow! Can't you see that we're in a hurry!?" They then yank down with a metal tool and grab a fingernail on his left hand before peeling it off. You don't know what to feel as you see them continue to torture Sannes and hear him wail. Just remind me never to get on Hange's bad side...

Hange continues to rip fingernails off until all five on his hand are gone. You resist the urge to wince as you continue to observe. "Sorry, I can't peel nails as well as you," Hange muttered to Sannes. "Just how many did you peel to get so good?" You can hear the darkness in their voice. "Too many to count," the man replies. "Within these cramped walls, do you know why war has never broken out? It's because the First Interior Squad dirtied our hands to protect the peace." Sannes looks up, face bloodied and eyes haunted. "A teacher too smart for their own good... A stupid couple who tried to fly... A whore from some ranch in the sticks... Humanity has only made it this far because we erased them!" He shouts out, tears brimming in one eye as the other remains closed thanks to the bruise from Levi's fist.

"You should be thanking us! I've never seen anyone get more pleasure out of torture than you guys! You're monsters! But I'm not even afraid. I... I have... I have the King, I... I believe in the King and peace in the walls. That all the things we've done were justified... But... To think it hurts this much... Go on and torture me to death already. That's all I ever did with this blood-stained life of mine." You grip your arms tightly at his words and silence envelops us. "Time for a break," Levi mutters tiredly as you walk to his side and out the door. "That's troubling... I'm beginning to feel sorry for him." Hange says from behind. You close the door but open a small gap once they are through.

You look up to see Levi and Hange walk with Ralph, the other man we captured. A knife pushed to his side. "You're pathetic. It only took one nail to make you talk." Levi tells the man, "Sannes has no nails left. You're nothing like him." The man then speaks as he follows a script that Hange shows him, hidden by their bodies. "Like you care? That was his decision. The guy never shuts up about peace and the King. The rest of us hate him. Do us a favour and kill him already." Levi answers him abruptly, "We're not letting it happen until he verifies your story." Hange points to Ralph's lines as he speaks up once again, "You already got what you wanted out of me. Gimme a break. Will I be getting a bed in my cell, or what?" You then see Levi and Hange pull him up the stairs and away. When you open the door as Levi and Hange return to your side, Sannes shouts his next words out defeatedly, as you know he overheard the coerced conversation with Ralph.

"Reiss is the true royal family."

…..

You think back to a few days ago when Historia told us her story. She was born on a small farm in the northern region of Wall Rose on land owned by the noble family of Reiss. Her mother had always read books, whilst Historia had helped with the farm, and every night, a wagon would take her mother away to the city adorned in fancy clothes. But when Historia learned to write and read, she tried to imitate her mother and read her books of stories where parents loved their child; so different to her own experience.

When once she had tried to hug her mother, she had pushed her away, speaking of wanting to have the courage to kill her and then had left. And then five years ago, just days after Wall Maria fell, she had met her father. Rod Reiss. Her mother was also present but frightened. However, they had been surrounded when Rod Reiss led Historia out of her home. Rod Reiss then told the men surrounding them that neither Historia nor her mother had anything to do with him. Her mother had been killed, screaming and wishing Historia had never been born. But before Historia was to die, her father had made a proposal. They could spare her if she lived a quiet life and changed her name to Christa Lenz.

Your eyes widened in realisation as Sannes went on to explain the truth to us. The true royal successor is Historia, and she and Eren are likely captured wherever Rod Reiss is. What's worse is that we later learn that Eren is to be eaten, deduced from the letter he had given Hange of the conversation between Betholdt and Ymir. Apparently, the Titans we had come to fear, the Armoured Titan, Colossal Titan, and Eren's Titan, each held a special ability, along with being able to transform back into humans. Ymir had likely been an ordinary Titan, roaming outside the walls until she had eaten one of their comrades with a Titan ability. That explained why Eren had been sought after by Reiner: to seize his Titan, which can control other Titans with its scream. Eren was a vessel bound to be replaced; if the government had a Titan of their own, he would likely be fed to it, giving them the power: The power to control the Titans.

.....

You sat against a tree next to Levi, now out in the woods, a bit away from Trost. The entire squad had been informed of the situation, and we were on our way to the land owned by Rod Reiss. Hange and Moblit had gone their separate ways as they left to meet with Erwin to consult him about the Reiss family. "Captains! We brought the supplies!" You look up to see that Jean, Armin, and Mikasa had come back from the city, bags of necessities in hand. Armin then walked up to us, giving Levi a piece of paper. "The military Police were handing these out." He says as you lean over Levi's shoulder and take a look.

Your eyes widened; the paper had accused the Scout regiment of murdering a civilian; it was Dimo Reeves. "If this is true, the Scouts will be disbanded. I heard they'll be hunting for us tonight. They're also putting guards on all the vital roads, and it's impossible to get through without a pass. Captains, what now?" Armin asked as he finished informing us of what was happening throughout the walls. "If we don't hurry, Eren..." Mikasa starts to speak before Levi cuts her off as you sense growing tension, "Calm down." You nod, looking at the two who crouched in front of you. "They're using a wagon. It'll take at least a day to reach Reiss' territory. We'll use that time to come up with a plan." The squad seemed to relax at your words before we heard Sasha speak up. "Captains, I hear footsteps. They are coming towards us."

.....

You look down from the trees seeing Armin by the river and acting as a decoy. As planned, two members of the Military approach, guns drawn at the blond boy as he puts his hands up. You nod at Levi, who stands on a tree opposite. You flash down, unsheathing your sword, as you restrain the woman, Levi restraining the man. "That's right... Hand over your guns to the one in front." Levi mutters lowly as the two soldiers are startled in our grasp as they hand their weapons over to Armin. "Not a sound," you add under your breath as the rest of the squad approaches, and Mikasa and Armin restrain the two military soldiers in our hold. You and Levi wander off a bit to the side, assessing the situation.

"Any ideas?" You ask as you look over to Levi. A brief silence takes over before he speaks, "Disguise as Military Police to get by the guards... Then, figure out where Eren was taken by snooping around. To think we'd have no better option..." You frown at him, knowing he is right. "I know it's not ideal, but we don't have time. We have to do it, or it will be a matter of time before we die," You say, looking towards the squad. You squeeze Levi’s shoulder gently in comfort before you see Jean approach, handing Levi a piece of parchment. We stand and walk towards the two Military Police who now sit, hands tied behind their back.

"Stohess District Military Police. Private Marlo Freudenberg. Same assignment. Private Hitch Dreyse." The two soldiers turn stiff at Levi's low words. "As for how we'll dispose of you..." Hitch and Marlo's faces turn into one of shock at his proclamation. "Because of you guys, over 100 people from Stohess District were killed!" Hitch suddenly yells out, causing Levi's eyes to turn to her sharply. "Huh?" But she remains stern as she continues, "You people... You might think you're all heroes of justice, but the victims and their families were dropped straight into hell!" Levi doesn't flinch, "Yeah, I know."

"You there..." Hitch now turns to Mikasa, "You're from the Southern Cadet Corps, yeah? Just like Annie Leonhart. Were you friends of hers?" Silence descends over us before Hitch seems to calm slightly, now looking to the floor as her voice starts to shake. "No... I doubt she had any friends being as gloomy and aloof as she was. It's like she was a kid afraid of other people. I never got the chance to know anything about her. And the reason they still haven't found her... is because she was pulverized by a Titan into a puddle of jelly!" Hitch turns furiously as she faces Levi and you, eyes wide with rage. You can't help but pity her ignorance; she tried not to show it, but she missed a friend who was really the enemy. "No..." you say softly, looking at her form as her eyes flashed to you for the first time, "It's because the Titan in hiding was... Annie Leonhart herself."

Now Marlo turns as well, shock evident on their faces as Hitch takes a sharp intake of breath. "Goddammit, it makes me sick," Levi says, looking to his side. "Nobody knows a damn thing about this world... Not us or anyone else. Except for those bastards at the centre of it all." You see his eyes darken momentarily as he looks back down at the two soldiers before us. "We'll release you both as soon as we get out of here." Hitch looks to the ground, still in disbelief, but you see Marlo turn to us, eyes determined. "Captain [y/n]! Captain Levi! Please let me help you! I don't think what you guys are doing is wrong! If I can help correct this world's injustice, I'll do whatever it takes!" Levi turned sharply towards the man, "What's with this guy?"

"I beg of you, Captains!" Silence descends onto us as Levi turns to you, but you see the same thoughts that cross your mind in his eyes. "We can't," you say, "We don't know how prepared you are about making an enemy of the government." You walk past him with Levi as he speaks to our squad. "Let's go. Sasha, tie them up somewhere nearby." As we walk through to the treeline, Jean speaks up. "Captains! Please let me do it." His face is unyielding, and his eyes are hard; you can't tell what he's thinking. "Knock yourself out," Levi mutters as we continue along.

However, moments later Jean had returned claiming he had tested the loyalties of Hitch and Marlo, and they had been an asset to seeking a path through a checkpoint, the least manned by the Military Police; you were grateful at the very least.

.....

Night fell as you watched Levi beat up a man in front of you. We had successfully fought through the checkpoints and kidnapped one of the men who was with the interior police. "Where are Eren and Christa?" Levi asks the man, but he merely smirks from where blood adorns his face. "Oh, you're so brave. That checkpoint back there was just recruits who could barely wipe their own ass. You think you're some sort of hero, beating them down?" Levi gets up with a bored expression on his face. "What an atrocious thing we've done. But what's more atrocious is this mouth of yours. I recommend you start talking while you're still able to use it." Levi shoves his boot into the mouth of the man, who squirms under the weight of it. "Where are Eren and Christa."

"It's no use," the man says when Levi removes his foot. "All that's left for you now is to run and hide inside these walls, covered in mud and shit! If you don't turn yourselves in, every last Scout we capture will get the noose! Starting with the one most guilty of all, Erwin Smith." At that, you step forward from Levi's side and kick him across the face before keeping your foot firmly planted on his head as he falls to the floor. Levi's eyes flicker slightly in surprise before you mutter lowly, "Answer the damn question. Where are Eren and Christa." The man starts to cry in fear as he looks between you and Levi. "I-I don't know! I'm not allowed to know! Kenny Ackerman is a very cautious man."

You freeze, seeing Levi do the same as you meet his wide eyes. You release the man from under your foot, to which he grasps at his head, still crying. "Ackerman?" Levi asks, his dark eyes turning sharp as we both look at Mikasa, who displays a similar expression. "I know Kenny... Is that his last name?" Levi's eyes continued to sharpen as the man nodded yes to his words. "It's true, there's a lot of things he doesn't divulge... especially the important stuff." you hear Levi mutter before you see him compose himself, needing answers and not the surprising new detail he had just found out. He steps forward past you and towards the man, ready to torture him again, and the man screams out in fear, but we pause at the sound of Sasha's voice. "Someone's coming from that way! More than one!" You and Levi see Sasha pointing towards the open fields. You quickly take shelter behind a tree as Levi forces the man to the floor.

"I told you, Captains, it's no use. One way or another, the Scouts will soon turn to an end!" You hear the man mutter as you grit your teeth at his words. As you look out into the fields, you see two soldiers, covered with hoods, coming towards us with guns in hand. However, as you took a closer look, you froze, seeing Levi do the same. It was Hange and Moblit. They greet us with a wave as you let yourself release a sigh of relief. Hange, however, wastes no time handing Levi a piece of paper. You and the other Scouts quickly surround him to see what's been written. "And there you have it. The coup d'etat was successful. Premier Zachary has control of the capital and administrative district. For the time being, the nobility hasn't rebelled."

Erwin's gamble worked. The gamble that when Erwin was to be sentenced to death for his crimes in concealing Eren, there would be a fake report of Wall Rose being breached; how the "King" and his officials would react determined whether Erwin should live or die. Evidently, the "King" had chosen to act in a way that would've harmed humanity, not saved it. Darius Zachery, along with Commander Pixis, had then risen up, overthrowing the fake King and his subordinates. Of course, had he reacted in a way that had helped humanity, Erwin would have been dead, but it was evident that the gamble had been worth taking.

"What about the Boss Reeves incident?" You hear Armin ask from behind you. "We got a confession that proved the charges unfounded," Hange replies with a smile on their face. "His son Flegel pulled through big time. Just like it's written right there, it shows the charges were bogus, they abused their power, and that King Fritz was a total fake. All our actions were justified in self-defence. In other words, we're free people now." You see the Scouts around you yell and cheer in happiness. They start to run around, spinning and laughing. You join in, a wide grin reaching your features as you pull your arms around Levi in glee. He pauses briefly in surprise at your actions but decides to let you be since the rest of the squad is too caught up in their joy to notice. You see his stare soften as he, meets your shining eyes; it had been a long time since he had seen you so happy.

"By the way, you may have a clue on where Eren and Historia are," Hange says, causing you to break contact with Levi as your smiling face turns into a questioning glance. You see the other Scouts also turn before coming back to our side. Hange holds out a book to Levi, "Let's get there and put an end to this battle."

.....

You sit on a wagon with Levi and Mikasa whilst Hange finishes telling us the story of the incident that happened on Reiss' territory five years ago after Wall Maria had been breached: Before the fall, Rod Reiss wasn't seen as at all bad as the lord of his territory. He had five children; Frieda was the eldest, the most down to earth; even peasants adored her. But five years ago, disaster had stuck. Bandits, using the fall of Wall Maria as a distraction, raided and set fire to the only chapel around. In misfortune, the entire Reiss family had been inside praying together. That night, all but Rod Reiss was massacred by the bandits. The incident only occurred a few days before Historia's mother was killed by the Interior Police. In other words, immediately after losing his family, Rod Reiss sought out Historia.

"There must be a reason he and his lackeys are after Historia," Hange continues as we contemplate her words. "The same bloodline? Is there some secret to their blood?" Levi asks, turning sharply to Hange. "I don't know for sure yet. But what really makes me curious is that some of the Chapel is completely wrecked. The chapel itself is stone. It would take tons of time and effort to destroy it. Bandits would take what they could and quickly get away. Plus, the only one who saw those bandits was Rod Reiss himself. Soon after, he used his own fortune to rebuild the chapel. But why?" The silence hung long before Hange continued with her next words.

"If you think about it, it's actually stranger that there were no traces of Titans. Even if I'm jumping to conclusions, something this suspicious deserves us checking it out." We agree silently as we continue on our path to the location of the church. After a long stretch of silence passes, Levi suddenly speaks up, causing the other Scouts and you to turn to him. Your eyes widen in surprise as he talks to the squad openly about the very man who raised him. "He's Kenny the Ripper. If he's there, he'll be our biggest obstacle. In terms of how much of a threat he is, equate him to you as the enemy. No... with those weapons of his, he's deadlier than me." You tense slightly at the words. Even against you and your speed, Levi would easily dominate with his strength and skill. If we were facing a man more dangerous than that and an Ackerman at that...

"Then he's unbeatable, at least for us..." Sasha mutters from her horse. "If we could meet up with the troops-" Connie starts but is quickly cut off by Mikasa, who swiftly disapproves of that idea, focusing entirely on rescuing Eren... again. "Though, if what the Captain said is true, it's not like he has no weak points," Armin says as you look up to the boy who held onto the reins of the horses that pulled us along. "I'm sure he's trained plenty, but having combat experience is something else." You frowned. It was true, but it was a stretch. "I wonder, though, how is it that you lived with Kenny the Ripper but know nothing about him, Levi?" Hange asks the man, who looks up at them with sharp eyes. "Sorry, but I only found out his full name not too long ago. Apparently, it's Kenny Ackerman. He some relative of yours?" Levi asks Mikasa, who responds after a while.

"I heard from my parents when they were alive that my dad's side, the Ackermans, were persecuted in the cities. My mother's side was oriental, so being a different race meant they didn't fit in anywhere. Both were people chased deep in the mountains near the edge of the walls. So that's how they met and got married. But I never found out why the Ackermans were persecuted. My dad didn't seem like a different race like my mom was." You think back to Levi's words to you a few days ago. The Ackermans and the [l/n] clan were once close to the crown before we were persecuted out of fear... Levi catches your eyes, and you can tell he knows your thoughts, but he decides not to share that information with Mikasa as he asks a completely unrelated question.

"Has there ever been a moment where it felt like power suddenly awakened inside you?" Mikasa looks up as you see her eyes flicker, "There has." There is a pause and a haunting silence before Levi speaks up again. "Kenny Ackerman had a moment like that, too. One time, out of nowhere, he felt an absurd amount of strength surging within him, and he knew exactly what to do." Levi stares darkly at Mikasa as he continues, "I've felt moments like that, too."

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 year

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Note: part 3 of the Fighter fic! what can I say? I just can't help myself.

[part 1] [part 2]

Warnings: mention of selfharm (not suicidal!) brief smut (18+!), hints to panic attack, brain injury, but there is also fluff!!!!

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: Sihtric needed a lot of time to recover,

Word count: 5,7k

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @chompchompluke @willowbrookesblog

'There is a distance between us. And I… I can't… I don't know how to fix it.'

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

A smile appeared on your face and your cheeks flushed, which still happened naturally whenever you saw Sihtric.

His shirtless, muscular, scarred back was turned to you as he was staring outside, leaning one arm against the large window that overlooked his massive garden. You've been finding him at that same spot often lately, ever since the horrible fight at the party a few weeks ago. You'd catch him gazing into the distance, not really being aware of his surroundings, just like today.

Sihtric never had much time to just do nothing and look at his backyard before, but now that he was not allowed to do any form of training because of his concussion, he found himself sitting or standing in front of the window for hours on end every day. He noticed there's all kinds of animals living in the woods, which he had claimed as his land when he bought the place. Together you've been seeing rabbits, a few badgers and a lot of squirrels. And Sihtric had completely lost his mind one morning when he saw two foxes strolling around.

He had woken you up by shouting through the whole house as he came running to you, 'Babe! Babe! There's foxes! I have foxes on my land! Does that mean they are mine? Have you seen them, sweetie? Baby? Babe! Have you seen the foxes? Come! You have to wake up! Here,' he had taken out his phone and showed you the blurriest photo you had ever seen, 'look! There!' Sihtric pointed at a green blurry photo, which was the lawn you understood later. Apparently, in his surprise and shock upon seeing the foxes, he had grabbed his phone to snap a picture, but he also wanted you to see them for yourself, so he already started running to you while he captured the shot. But regardless, he was still proud of the horrible photo, that could've been anything, and at the time you thought he was simply the cutest thing in the world for just that.

You took off your shoes and coat and walked up to Sihtric, circling your arms around his bare waist, to which he left out a soft hum.

'Hey, tiger,' you murmured and kissed his back.

'Hey, baby', Sihtric spoke softly and glanced back over his shoulder to meet your eyes.

'How was your appointment? What did the doctor say?'

Sihtric looked back up, gazing at the lawn which was surrounded by a couple acres of woods.

'It was fine, doctor says the recovery is going as expected.'

'That's so good to hear. And do you feel that too?'

'Yeah.'

'How are the symptoms?' you moved around him and leaned back against the window, letting him tower over you as he looked down into your eyes.

Your fiancé was stunning, as always, but lately his eyes were always tired and it often seemed as if his focus wasn't really there. You knew it was because of his concussion, which had been very severe, so you were happy to hear he seemed to recover as he should.

'Not too bad,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your forehead, then he looked up again and stared outside.

'You sure, babe? No memory problems or extreme dizziness? Balance issues?' you looked up at him, trying to see something in his eyes that would tell you he was being truthful.

'Babe?' you tried again when he didn't seem to hear you.

'Hm? Y-yeah, honey, I don't mind,' he murmured, nodding slowly with his eyes fixated on the backyard, 'I haven't seen those foxes in a few days, almost as if they were never there. Have you seen them, baby?'

'I have, my love,' you reassured him and kissed his cheek.

His eyes were empty, and you had never seen the foxes.

Because there never were any foxes in his backyard.

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

Sihtric had been home for weeks now. He had his regular cleaning lady and people who took care of the garden, so you never had to worry about that. But one thing you both enjoyed doing yourself was cooking, which you did together each night if his schedule allowed it.

Naturally, the past few weeks Sihtric hadn't been up for it. He also wasn't even allowed to move around much, because his balance was off and he'd suddenly become very dizzy. He did like to keep you company when you made dinner and would sit near you at the kitchen island. But more than once you had seen him, without warning, tipping over with the barstool while still being seated on it, as his vision became blurry and everything started to spin. It would knock him down to the ground with whatever he was holding onto or sitting on at that time. Which made him very frustrated.

But Sihtric was also frustrated because he desperately wanted to make love with you. He knows how to please you and knows exactly what you like, he wanted nothing more than to give you pleasure, because you had been taking care of him lately, which hadn't been easy. But even intimacy had been more or less impossible, which frustrated you too of course. Sex had been off the table since that party. You had given him a blowjob several times, which would normally finish him off within minutes, but he just couldn't finish ever since his brain trauma. He couldn't focus on you, no matter how well you treated him, which frustrated him even more and, even if you knew it had nothing to do with you, it made you close off a little because it felt like you couldn't please him.

However, his condition seemed to improve slightly a few days ago, when he started to be more active again. And because he felt bad you had been doing so much for him, while he couldn't do anything to thank you, he said he'd make dinner tonight while you were to take a shower.

As his house was stupidly large, you couldn't hear what was going on downstairs in the kitchen as you took a shower upstairs. So when you came back, you were shocked to see the mess in the kitchen. Sihtric was down on the floor, cleaning up a pool of tomato sauce that had splattered all over the black marble tiles, the huge pot it had been in was right next to him. It looked like a crime scene and would have scared the hell out of you if it weren't for the fact you knew he was making pasta with tomato sauce.

'Sihtric?' when he looked up at you he was greeted by your big eyes, 'what happened here?'

'The fucking pot… I- I picked it up to move it to the table but it fucking slipped out of my hands.'

He threw the cleaning rag with force onto the floor, groaned, and sat back against the kitchen island. 'So much for making you dinner,' he sighed and buried his face in his hands.

'That's okay, babe,' you crouched down next to him, 'we'll order a pizza.'

'Fine,' he sighed, 'just not from that place you ordered last time.'

You thought about the poor kid Sihtric had nearly challenged to a fight, so you agreed. You told him to pick a place and make an order while you cleaned up the spilled food, not knowing that Sihtric had never picked up the pot. He had simply been taken by extreme dizziness, brought off balance and stumbled backwards as he had tried to hold onto whatever was closest, which happened to be the pot full of hot sauce. But Sihtric wouldn't tell you. He didn't want you to know how bad his condition really was, or that the doctor had been seriously concerned about his lack of improvement.

And when you went to throw the dirty towels in the laundry upstairs, Sihtric smacked the back of his head repeatedly against the kitchen island he sat back at. Just to feel something, and to punish himself for getting a concussion that messed his life up in the first place. Which was also something he did everytime after you had pecked his lips and left him to stare out of the window. He'd quietly listen, making sure you had left, and would then use the window as his form of punishment, being smart enough about it to not get any bruises on his head that his hair couldn't hide.

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

The fight was only two weeks away now, and Sihtric had been bulking up to match the weight class for the upcoming fight. It had been months since the tomato sauce incident, and numerous things had happened afterwards, which Sihtric had been able to hide from you. He was also back to regular training in the evening, and you noticed it improved his overall mood. Intimacy had still been nonexistent, but you figured that was also partly because of his crazy training schedule. You had been worried when he went back to the gym at first, but knowing Uhtred and Finan kept an eye on him eased you.

Except that Uhtred and Finan were not aware that Sihtric was training again, because they knew the doctor's advice, and Sihtric had given them some time off because of that. The doctor had said that any form of training was simply a hazard, even now, as his condition was not improving the way it should have, and any form of intense physical activity could trigger his symptoms.

'So is the fight still on? Have you been cleared?'

'Yeah, everything's good,' Sihtric lied as he held you in his arms. His eyes fixated on the tv in the bedroom as he sat back against the headboard. You were texting with some friends while he was watching yet another episode of some medieval kingdom show he got hooked on a few weeks ago.

'Will you be there with me? At the fight?'

'Of course I will,' you smiled at him.

Sihtric paused the tv after a moment and said he wanted you in his lap, to which you gladly obeyed.

'Kiss?'

'Only a kiss?' you smiled.

'You want to try a little more?'

'I'd like that. You?'

'Of course, baby. You know how horny I've been,' Sihtric chuckled lightly, 'I just… worry, you know, it may not go as smoothly. It's been a little while and… you know.'

'We'll just try and see how it goes? If you don't feel well at some point, you just have to say it. It's okay.'

'Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to disappoint you again,' Sihtric mumbled.

'You have never disappointed me.'

And it didn't take long before things, finally, got hot and heavy again. And Sihtric felt just as good as you remembered when you were riding him. He looked relieved and satisfied while he watched you as he was still sitting back against the headboard, his hands on your hips, his eyes looking you up and down.

'Is this good for you?' you asked in between heavy breaths, your hands on his shoulders.

'Yeah, baby, keep it going like that,' he rasped, 'gods, I've missed this, I've missed your body so much,' he rested his head back with a smile.

'Fuck, I've missed you too, Sihtric,' you moaned, 'and your body is so muscular, ah, fuck.'

'You like my body now?' he grunted with a smile.

'I've always like your body, babe, but it's even more delicious now,' you giggled as your hands trailed over his insanely toned chest, 'you're so big now. So hot and strong,' you moaned, 'I need you to flip me over with those arms, babe, please.'

Sihtric hummed and was quick to flip you on your back, underneath him, making you both to chuckle when he flexed his biceps a little for you. And you moved your hands slowly up from his warm wrists, over his veiny biceps to his broad shoulders. Enjoying his body being extra muscular right now.

'You better fuck me good this whole week,' you breathed heavy as your nails ran up and down his back, 'because I can't have you next week before your fight.'

'Fuck, I know, I know. Ah, baby,' he hissed when he felt your hands move up into his hair, touching the slight bruises he had from smacking his own head constantly when something went wrong. His pace suddenly became sloppy and his breathing became panicked before he abruptly pulled out.

'Sihtric?' alarmed at his sudden movements, 'baby? Are you okay?'

Sihtric froze, half on top of you, puffing hard and fast as a look of panic and confusion set on his face.

'Sihtric? Sihtric, say something!'

He struggled to speak and closed his eyes, groaning as if in pain. You immediately sat up and took his face in your hands, 'Sihtric!'

'I- don't… I don't feel well, baby,' he wheezed with strangled breaths, 'I'm… I'm sorry.'

'No, no,' you hushed him and forced him to lay down on his back, 'it's okay, my love, just… just take it easy, okay? Everything's alright. Do you want some water? Should I get you some water?'

'M-maybe,' his voice trembled along with his body.

'Okay, just lay down, don't move, honey. I'll be right back.' You made haste downstairs to the kitchen to grab a cooled bottle of water.

In the meantime, Sihtric covered his face with his hands, dragging his fingers over his skin as he broke down in tears, of both anger and sadness. And, like he had been doing since the party, he couldn't stop inflicting harm upon himself, starting with one hard punch against his own head. Then another. And one more because he wasn't hurting yet, which led to more and constant smashing of his fists against the sides of his own head, while breathing hard and growling with rage, through his tears, at each punch. And that's how you found him when you had made your way back to the bedroom.

Sihtric, one of the best fighters in the world, was a crying and trembling mess in your arms as you had held him all through the night. And he still wouldn't admit a single thing about the state of his condition.

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

The next day Sihtric could barely look at you. He felt ashamed for what had happened, and he felt awful for not being honest with you. But he was so close to his last fight now, so close to being done with that life and leaving it all behind, only to spend the rest of his life with you. Which was all he wanted. He also felt like he couldn't possibly come clean to you anymore now, after he had been lying about his health for nearly half a year. He was terrified you would leave him once you'd find out.

You knew he felt embarrassed about last night, after you had held him in your arms all night until he fell asleep. And when you woke up, he had already left the bed. You found him downstairs, staring out the window again. You once again snuck your arms around his shirtless waist and placed a kiss between his scarred shoulder blades.

'My love,' you whispered as you moved around him, trying to meet his eyes. Sihtric put his arms around you but he simply couldn't look down into your eyes. He looked tired. His face was pale with dark circles around his eyes. His gaze was completely empty while his dark, messy hair fell in his face as he looked down, away from you.

'Do you still want to be with me?' he asked quietly.

'What do you mean?' you frowned, placing your hands on his broad shoulders as you looked up at him. Sihtric sighed softly before he spoke.

'These past months,' he said, looking up, as if his next words would come to him from the ceiling, 'they have been shit, have they not? There is a distance between us. And I… I can't… I don't know how to fix it.'

'There is only a distance between us because you simply need time to heal up. Because clearly you are not healed yet. And I do not understand how on earth you have been cleared to fight in a few days. And I… I am terrified, Sihtric,' your voice started to tremble as your eyes teared up. You took his face in your hands and he finally met your eyes. 'I am so scared, baby. Of what will happen to you in that cage. What will happen if you take one punch to the face. And that is the only reason why there is a distance, if that's even the right word. You just can't do things the way you always used to or want to. It takes time to recover. And I know you worry about the intimacy problem. But babe, I am not going anywhere. Things will be fine again, you just have a lot going on. Don't worry about it. Don't worry about us,' you said and nuzzled his nose softly, 'we will always be fine. We will always be together, no matter what.'

'No matter what?' Sihtric asked, contemplating to just spill the truth now.

'No matter what. I promise.' You pushed his hair out of his face and got up on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead, 'I love you.'

'I love you too.'

You were so close to telling him that you knew about his plan. About how this fight would be his last. But you had been keeping that a secret for almost half a year now, you thought he would lose his trust in you by being able to keep something hidden from him for so long. So you decided not to tell him.

Later that day Sihtric was determined to still go to his gym and train. You asked him if he was sure it was a good idea, but he insisted. You kissed him goodbye and he went on his way. The gym he trained at was his own, so he never had to tell anyone if he was going there or not. Therefore Uhtred and Finan still had no idea that he was working out on his own for months already. No sparring partner, no coach, no one around if he would hit the floor when he got dizzy again. Which had happened on numerous occasions and happened again that night. He managed to get back up on his feet and took a shower, after which he collapsed, smacking his head against the floor and passed out.

You became anxious when Sihtric wasn't home by 10. He always made sure to be home before 10 so he'd have a few hours with you before going to sleep. You called and texted him but he didn't pick up nor replied. Not wanting to stress right away, you gave him another half hour. But then you got a text.

Sihtric: baby please don't freak out okay. I passed out in the gym. hit my head and I'm bleeding a little but it's just a cut eyebrow, nothing more, but it's a bruise. I will be home soon, I promise, I just feel a little dizzy

You immediately called him and, naturally, did freak out. You told him to not drive home, Uhtred or Finan should bring him home. But Sihtric lied and said they had already left and didn't want to bother them this late. He also wanted to drive home himself because he didn't want to leave his car behind at the parking lot.

'Who cares about that stupid car!'

'Baby, it's a Bugatti Veyron! Cost me nearly 2 million!'

'You can easily afford a new one if someone steals it! I can't get a new you if you crash with that thing. I'm picking you up! With my peasant car!'

He knew better than to argue with that.

When you found him, he looked even worse than he had done that same morning. It was true that he, somehow, got lucky and only had a cut eyebrow, which had already stopped bleeding by now.

'Baby, please? please, take the Bugatti back,' he begged as you walked out of the gym to your car.

'No! I can't drive that thing, are you insane?'

'I'll be next to you, I can guide you. Babe, please,' Sihtric got down on his knees, 'baby, I beg you. Do not leave her here.'

'And what if someone steals my car here at night?'

'Surely no one is going to steal that thing.'

'Oh, okay. No need to worry then. My old Volkswagen is not good enough to get stolen, according to Sihtric Kjartansson, the world champion,' you mocked him.

'Do not taunt me right now!'

'Fuck!' you groaned, 'I'll fucking crash that thing!'

'You won't, I promise,' he got up from his knees and cupped your cheeks, 'I promise, baby, I'll tell you what to do. Please, honey?'

You already saw your life flashing by, but you agreed, just to make him happy.

'Thank you! Thank you, babe!' Sihtric pecked your lips quickly and searched his pockets for the keys.

You got in the car, well, nearly fell in the car because it was so low, you wondered if you could ever get out of it again. Sihtric gave you a quick instruction as you started the sports car.

'Okay, easy,' Sihtric said, 'do not hit the gas like you-'

You put your feet on the gas, automatically hitting it like you usually do in your own car, while Sihtric tried to say something about hitting the gas.

'Baby, no!' Sihtric shouted as you almost hit the street while abruptly going 100.

Sihtric immediately pulled the handbrake and held you back with his other arm to avoid you getting a whiplash. It all happened within 3 seconds, and all while you shrieked. You looked at each other with big eyes after the abrupt halt and you both started to laugh nervously.

'Don't… Don't do that again, babe,' Sihtric voice was trembling, 'this car goes from zero to hundred in two seconds. Fuck, baby,' he grabbed his chest, seeing if his heartbeat was still there, and he exhaled slowly.

'I-I'm sorry,' you trembled.

'I know, I know. Just… take it easy, okay? This car works a little differently than yours.'

You nodded, clearly startled as your face was deprived of colour.

'Oh, baby,' Sihtric sighed, feeling bad he made you drive his car, but there was no way he would leave 'his other baby' behind at that parking lot, 'come here, give me a kiss.'

He reassured you again, and you said you'd be more careful. Sihtric said he trusted you, but kept his hand resting on the car's handbrake the whole drive back.

Once back home, you told him to go to bed and get some rest. When he was asleep you emailed his doctor, telling him you want Sihtric to be checked on in the morning because of what had happened, and you said he was in no state to fight in a day.

Early next morning, you woke up because your phone rang. Sihtric's doctor, Aldhelm, had read your email and he wanted to come over immediately. You got dressed and not much later you welcomed Aldhelm and made him some coffee. And while Sihtric was still asleep, you were told that he had never been cleared to fight and was not even allowed to train, as his recovery was concerningly slow. You wept when you heard it and suddenly his behaviour the past months made sense. You told Aldhelm about everything that had happened and he said these were all symptoms that come with such a traumatic brain injury, but he didn't quite understand why Sihtric's recovery went so slow.

After a few hours you heard Sihtric come down the stairs. You excused yourself and ran to the hallway, wanting to warn Sihtric so hopefully he would not get angry when he'd see Aldhelm.

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him. He looked a little better than last night as there was more colour in his face again. You thought he still looked so handsome. His long hair pulled back into a bun and once again shirtless, as usual, because he knows you love to see him like that around the house. He was wearing black Venum sweatpants and black socks, but no flip flops. He thinks he lost them in the garden somewhere a few days ago and claims a fox probably got a hold of them. Truth was Sihtric had kicked them under the bed by accident and just didn't remember. And those foxes? They had been a hallucination, caused by his concussion and repeatedly harming himself.

'Hey, handsome,' you smiled weakly, hoping to not raise concern yet.

'Hey yourself,' Sihtric smiled back and pecked your lips, 'you're up early, bunny.'

'Yeah,' you said as Sihtric tried to walk past you, but you blocked his way, 'no, babe, wait.'

Sihtric frowned, 'is everything okay?'

'Yeah, but… please don't get mad.'

'What?' Sihtric chuckled lightly, 'mad about what?'

'Promise me you won't get mad, honey?'

'Is… is there something with my car?'

'What? No!' you slapped his chest, 'Sihtric, I… I'm sorry…'

'Y-you're scaring me, baby,' he said softly, 'what is going on?'

'You've been scaring me a lot too lately,' you whispered, 'I had no other choice. I… I know about everything, Sihtric. And know that I'm not mad. I'm just concerned.'

'I… I don't understand.'

You took his hand and pulled him into the living room, where he saw Aldhelm.

And then he understood it all.

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

Uhtred, Finan, and everyone else of his team had been called to meet up that same morning. The house was packed, and you finally understood why on earth he needed a living room this big. Aldhelm, you and Sihtric explained everything to everyone. His team was shocked but they couldn't deny they understood his motives, yet Finan still called him a stupid runt and Uhtred said he was a dumb as he looked, but they still loved him. And so did you. And luckily, Sihtric still loved you all the same when you told him you had known about his retirement plan all along.

It had been a long and rough day, and tomorrow was the day of the fight.

'No more secrets, baby,' Sihtric whispered as he held you in his arms the night before, 'I promise.'

'No more secrets, I promise too,' you kissed his lips and asked if he had taken his medication.

Yeah, his goddamn medication. Turns out that the fool that is your fiancé was supposed to be on medication for several months already, which would help with his sudden dizziness, headaches and the trembling. All this time he had been flushing them down the drain, because they made him feel sleepy, but kept getting restocks so it wouldn't cause alarm.

'I took them, I swear, my love,' he spoke the truth.

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

'Are you ready?' you asked Sihtric as you both stared at the octagon.

'Yeah,' Sihtric smiled and squeezed your hand, 'walk with me?'

'Of course. But you have to step into the cage on your own.'

'I know.'

You walked with him. Uhtred, Finan and Aldhelm followed closely behind. The arena was silent. Dead silent. The octagon was lit up with a bright spotlight, and inside, Sigtryggr was already pacing around the canvas as he stared at Sihtric. Sigtryggr had recovered rather well from the incident at the party, except for his nose. Sihtric had broken it so badly, it would never be fully straight again. But you didn't feel bad for him. The UFC officials looked at your fiancé as he closed in on the cage.

'You got this, babe,' you said as you held Sihtric's hands.

'Stay close?' Sihtric asked, cupping your cheeks, 'will you stay close, baby?'

'I will, I'll be right here.'

He kissed you gently and then turned to Uhtred, Aldhelm and Finan, who encouraged him. Sihtric gave you another kiss before he got on the stairs and made his way into the octagon. You watched how the fence door was closed behind him.

Two beasts. Locked in a cage.

'I didn't think you'd show,' Sigtryggr said while Sihtric walked up to him.

'I am here, am I not?' Sihtric held his hands up and Sigtryggr did the same. A threatening energy lingered in the air as both men stared at each other for a long moment, you all held your breath.

And then they embraced.

'I'm sorry, man,' Sigtryggr said, 'I had too much to drink that night.'

'I'm sorry too,' Sihtric said, 'although I do not regret breaking your nose for the way you spoke about my girl.'

'I can accept that,' he laughed and then looked at you, 'I'm sorry, lady. For everything. I had no idea how bad it was until I got the call this morning.'

You smiled and gave him a quick nod. You appreciated the gesture but could not forgive him yet.

'Are you ready for this?' Sigtryggr asked. Sihtric nodded and walked over to a table that was set in the middle of the octagon. They sat down and read a bunch of paperwork in silence. Sigtryggr was quick to sign whatever he had just read, and you anxiously awaited what the deal was they offered them.

'If you sign this,' the UFC official said to Sihtric, 'you agree to pull out of the fight, which was set for tonight, due to health reasons beyond your control. Do you understand and agree?'

'Yes,' Sihtric said and put his signature down.

'Thank you,' the official said and gave the paper to his assistant, 'if you sign this form, you will agree to follow your doctor's orders strictly, to make your recovery as smooth and fast as possible. And also, since the incident happened at one of our events, you will receive the money you were supposed to earn with this fight within the next few weeks. A compensation for your troubles. Do you understand and agree?'

'Yes,' Sihtric said again and signed the paper.

'And this form,' the official showed Sihtric the last piece of paperwork, 'is your new deal. One fight with a maximum of five rounds, five minutes each, one year from today. And as this fight is highly anticipated, your fight money is upped to fifteen million, win or lose. Sigtryggr has been offered the same and already agreed. It is up to you now. You can refuse, leave with six million and retire after today, like we heard you planned on doing. Or you can sign this, leave with six million, have a whole year to prepare for the fight and earn fifteen million that night. Do you understand and agree?'

Sihtric looked at the paper in front of him and clenched his jaw. Then he turned to look back at you.

'Baby?' It was all he said, but you knew he was asking your permission to take the deal.

'Tell me yes or no, do you know the truth about the foxes in the backyard?' you asked. Everyone frowned lightly and some people murmured, but Sihtric smiled at you.

'Yes.'

You smirked slightly and Sihtric knew you had given your answer. Sihtric puckered his lips to you and blew a kiss, before turning back to sign the contract. Everyone in the octagon shook hands and Sihtric was quick to make his way back over to you. And as if he had won the fight, he picked you up again, kissed you and walked out of the empty arena with you in his arms.

'But what about your contract termination?' you suddenly remembered.

'That was a deal with a boxing company,' Sihtric said, 'and that contract will be terminated at midnight. I am not going back to boxing.'

'But… you still fight next year?' you frowned.

'Yes,' Sihtric smiled, 'because I signed a contract with UFC for this fight, a completely different company, my love.'

'So you have a year to get fixed up? Is that enough?'

'More than enough. With the medication and proper rest I should be good as normal within a month or two.'

'So will you finally be home for a few weeks and do nothing at all? Like you should have done in the first place?'

'I will, I promise,' Sihtric chuckled as he put you back on your feet when he reached his car, 'you'll get a little taste of what your life will be like with me after next year.' He winked and kissed your cheek.

'You mean I get to see domestic Sihtric?' you taunted, to which he rolled his eyes with a smile.

'Domestic… yes, my love,' he knew it was best to just agree and opened the car door for you.

'And what about husband Sihtric?' you asked as you got in the over expensive sports car again. Sihtric shrugged with a grin and closed your door. You watched him walk over to the driver side and kept staring at him as he sat down behind the wheel.

'What about him?' he asked and cupped your cheeks.

'When will I see him?' you chuckled and felt yourself blush.

'I was thinking within the next few weeks maybe?'

'You want to plan a whole wedding in only a few weeks? Your concussion is worse than I thought.'

'No,' Sihtric chuckled lightly and pecked your lips, 'I don't want a big wedding. Unless you do, baby. But I… I just want you. With me. Just us,' he looked into your eyes with his own mismatched pair and smiled softly, 'what if we just elope? And throw a small party sometime when I'm fully healed? Would you want that? Would you be okay with that?'

'But where would we go?'

'I don't know,' Sihtric shrugged, 'where would you want us to get married, bunny?'

'Well,' you chuckled and rolled your eyes, 'I always dreamt of getting married in Hawaii, but you know…'

'What do I know?' he smiled and bit down on his lip.

'It's insane,' you laughed, 'so expensive. Maybe for our honeymoon eventually?'

'Yeah, okay. I understand,' Sihtric clicked his tongue and started the car, revving the engine just to spook Finan as he walked past the car, which caused the Irish man to flip you both off when he saw you laughing.

Sihtric took you home where you celebrated his new deal. With pizza, not from that place, and some alcohol free cider while watching Toy Story. Sihtric cuddled you until you fell asleep in his arms in the middle of Toy Story 2, and then carried you to bed and tucked you in.

After that he booked a one way flight to Hawaii for the two of you, and he remembered he had to search for that ugly Hawaiian blouse he had that you hate so much, so he could wash it in time before your flight, which was in two days.

#sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #modern!sihtric

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liaromancewriter · 2 months

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Premise: Sienna realizes her son is more like his father than she’s comfortable with.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x M!OC (Max Valentine); feat. Noah Valentine (M!OC) Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Words: 740

A/N: This fic is from an ask by @jerzwriter, no.20 from this list of kiss prompts.

As a pediatrician, Sienna Valentine (née Trinh) had seen her fair share of scrapes and broken bones. She often reassured the parents of her young patients that children were resilient and that minor injuries were part and parcel of growing up.

However, when the injured child was her own, she found it hard to remain quite so laissez-faire.

Sienna still vividly remembered the day at the playground six weeks ago. She took her eyes off Noah for just five seconds when she heard his scream. Her heart stopped in panic at the loud thud as he fell off the jungle gym, landing awkwardly on his arm.

Now, as she watched the orthopedic surgeon remove the colorful cast, she held her breath, hoping her little man’s wrist had healed properly.

As if sensing her apprehension, Max reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers in comfort. The tension left her shoulders, and she leaned back against him.

She supposed she should be used to this by now. Her husband was no stranger to broken bones, scrapes and sprains. Only after she had asked Max to stop putting her through the stress had he curtailed his more adventurous activities.

Now, their son was following in his father’s footsteps. If there was a monkey bar, he had to climb it. The faster he could ride his bike, the happier he was. Lately, he’d gotten into skateboarding and spent hours looking up moves and tricks on YouTube to practice later.

Now that it was summer vacation, he was itching to head out to a skate park with his friends. A broken wrist had only slowed Noah down, not deterred him. Like another Valentine male she loved.

The orthopedic surgeon carefully cut away the final piece of the cast and gently rotated Noah’s hand, examining the newly freed limb, which was pale from being covered for so long.

“Looks good,” the surgeon said reassuringly, looking over his shoulder at Sienna and Max. "He’ll have a tiny scar, but the bone has healed nicely. Noah, can you try moving your fingers and wrist for me?"

With wide eyes and a mixture of apprehension and excitement, Noah began to wiggle his fingers. Slowly, he flexed his wrist back and forth.

“Does it hurt?” Sienna asked, her voice full of motherly concern.

Noah shook his head, a big smile lighting up his face. “Nope, it feels good. Look, Dad, I’ve got a scar on my hand, just like you!”

Sienna rolled her eyes as Max leaned in closer, exclaiming with exaggerated admiration and comparing whose scar was more impressive. Boys got excited by the strangest things.

The scar on Max’s wrist was from a car accident shortly before they married. She also remembered hearing he had broken the same arm when he was Noah’s age after jumping off the steps of a treehouse.

The surgeon nodded approvingly, pushing back the stool and removing his gloves. “He’ll need to take it easy for a bit, but he can start using his hand normally again. Just avoid any rough play or strenuous activities for a few more weeks.”

“Easier said than done,” Max chuckled knowingly after the surgeon left the room. He was too good at reading her mind.

He ruffled their son’s hair, helped him down from the examination table and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “But Noah’s learned his lesson. Right, buddy?”

Noah nodded eagerly, his bangs flopping across his forehead.

He’s due for a haircut; Sienna smiled softly, brushing the errant locks away.

Max often teased that Noah was a miniature version of her. But while he might resemble her, he was a mirror image of his father in terms of personality. All it took was one look from either of them with that endearing half-grin, and she was a goner.

Unable to resist, she gently lifted his wrist and pressed her lips to the thin scar, ignoring his embarrassed groan, “Mom!”

When he was a toddler, she would kiss his boo-boos away. Now that he was ten, he considered himself much too old for such gestures, but it still made her feel better.

“Sorry, not sorry,” she teased, kissing his forehead next. “Being a mom has its privileges.”

Noah looked up and grinned back. “I’m gonna be super careful next time. I promise!”

Next time. Sienna laughed. How many times had she heard Max say the exact words? Like father, like son.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

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Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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#open heart #choices open heart #sienna trinh #sienna trinh x oc #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #playchoices #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #sienna trinh x max valentine #noah valentine

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catierambles · 3 months

Text

Alternate Instincts Ch.25

They got back to the apartment, Walter having stayed with Mike just in case whatever Mike had felt came there. They jumped up from their seats as they walked in, seeing August, Sy, and Stephanie bruised and bloody, Geralt looking broodier than normal.

"I'm fine, Mike." Stephanie said as he went to her, looking over her injuries.

"Lewis?" Walter asked and they nodded.

"Walter, one of the Omegas, Marianne in 13B, is a nurse." Stephanie said, "Can you get her and tell her what happened?"

"What did happen?" He asked.

"August has a nasty cut on his face and Sy was stabbed with a silver blade." She explained briefly. "Sy will need stitches and we'll see about August."

"I'll get her." Walter said, "Are you all right?"

"Oh please," She said, rolling her eyes, "He hits like a twelve year old girl. Got worse when I was going for my belts."

"Think she broke his nose." Sy said, still holding his shoulder.

"Oh, I definitely broke his nose." She said, "Go get Marianne?"

"Yes, love." He said, touching her gently as he left the apartment.

"Sy, sit down before you fall down, you lost a decent amount of blood." She said, "August, come with me into the bathroom, I need to clean up your face."

"Yes, Steph." He said and followed her into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. "You can stop now."

"Stop what?" She asked, pulling the first aid kit and a couple washcloths from under the sink.

"Pretending you're fine." He said and she looked at him.

"I am fine."

"No, you're not." He said, going to her and holding her arms gently. "Stephanie, it's okay. It's just you and me, I won't tell the others."

"August, I--" Her eyes went to the cut on his face and he had to catch her as she nearly collapsed, easing them both down onto the floor as her body shook in raking sobs. She still held back, kept them quiet, not wanting the others to hear her break down.

"It's okay, you're okay."

"It's all my fault. You all keep getting hurt because of me. Sy got stabbed, August, your face is going to be scarred. Because of me." She sobbed, her fingers twisting in his shirt and he ran his hands over her back.

"You didn't do this, Steph, Lewis did."

"I told you to let him go. If I had just let you do it, you'd both be fine. It's my fault."

"You didn't know he had a second knife. None of us did." August said. "It's not your fault. It'll never be your fault. Markus and I are okay. You're okay. You're safe now, Stephanie."

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"He was going to take me."

"He didn't." August said, "We have you. You're safe."

“We need to get your face cleaned up.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“At least get the blood cleaned away.”

“Steph...”

“Please just let me know you’re okay.” She said and he nodded. Helping her to her feet, he sat on the closed toilet lid as she cleaned the blood from his face, needing to rinse out the washcloth several times until it ran clear. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but I still want Marianne to look at it.”

“Okay.” He said and pulled her into his arms when he stood, laying his uninjured cheek against her hair. “I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I do.” He said, “You should get cleaned up as well.”

“Yeah, I need a shower.” She agreed, “Marianne is probably here by now and waiting on us. Go ahead, I’ll be out once I feel human again.”

“Sure you don’t want company?” He was joking and she snorted.

“Get the fuck out and let me shower in peace.” Touching her face gently one more time, he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She listened to him talk to Marianne and the others for a bit before starting the shower and getting undressed. The hot water stung the scrape on her forehead from where she hit it off the ground and made the burgeoning bruise on her cheekbone throb. Searching with her tongue, she found the cut on the inside of her cheek from when he had backhanded her and made a mental note to swish with some mouthwash to clean it. The small cut on her neck also stung, but it had long since stopped bleeding and felt like more of a papercut when she ran her finger over it.

The rest of the shower was completed with efficiency, washing her hair and body quickly, rinsing just as thoroughly and turning off the shower. Grabbing a towel from a hook outside the stall, she squeezed her hair in the folds before drying off, wrapping the towel around herself. She left her dirty clothes on the bathroom floor as she left, her eyes going to Sy sitting up in bed, his shirt off and his shoulder wrapped.

“No shiftin’, so strenuous activity.” He said when he saw her, “Don’t wanna pop the stitches. They’ll dissolve as it heals.”

“And August?”

“His was no big deal, looked worse than it actually was.” He said, “She put some butterfly bandages on it after cleanin’ it. How you feelin’ though?”

“Hungry.” She said, going over to her dresser and pulling out a change of clothes, letting the towel drop.

“What happened to your side?” He asked, and she looked down, seeing the blossoming bruise on her ribs.

“He kicked me.” She said simply and heard him get off the bed, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. “How’d you know something was wrong?”

“Mikey.” He said simply, “He woke up, realized you were gone, and got the rest of us up, sayin’ he had a bad feelin’. His instincts are usually spot on so we left to look for you and Geralt caught Lewis’ scent. Rest is history.”

"I'll have to thank him." She said and he pulled away so she could get dressed.

"Come on, babe." He said, "There's chicken and mushrooms with your name on it." She helped him put the sling back on that would keep his shoulder immobile and the wound from moving and they left the bedroom, the others sitting out in the living room.

"Mike?" She asked and he went to her. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Trusting your gut." She said and pulled him into a hug. "I love you, my wonderful Beta."

"I love you too, my beautiful Alpha." He said, burying his face in her shoulder. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I’ll be bruised, but I’ll be fine.”

“Shoulda seen her.” Sy said with a small amount of pride in his voice, “Snapped the ties around her wrists, cracked him in the nose, and took him down with a couple good kicks. Thing’a beauty. He never saw it comin’.”

“He’ll see it coming next time.” Geralt said.

“There won’t be a next time.” August said and she looked over at him as she put her food in the microwave to heat it up. His pseudobeard had been trimmed away so the cut on his face could be bandaged and she would have thought it looked ridiculous if he hadn’t been injured. Because of her. It was her fault. His face would be scarred because of her. Sy would be scarred because of her. She should have left when she first tried to, should have not listened to Sy and left them. Yes, it was then that Sy realized that she was his Mate as well, not just Geralt’s, but she’s brought them nothing but pain. ”Steph. Stop.”

“I’m fine, August. Just tired.” She said, “And hungry. And sore. But I’m fine.” Unlike them.

Jordan’s words came to her unbidden, unwanted.

“They don’t love you.”

How could they? All she’s done is hurt them. Gotten them hurt.

“Stephanie.” August said, “I can see you pulling inward. Don’t.”

“Love?” Walter asked.

“She’s blaming herself for what happened to me and Sy.” August explained briefly.

“It ain’t your fault, babe.” Sy said, “You didn’t do this to us. That Feral did.”

“”That Feral” wouldn’t be bothering any of you if it wasn’t for me.” She said, “It would have been better if you guys never came into the campsite that morning. Never came across me and Jordan.”

“Doll, he had somethin’ planned for you that mornin’.” Sy said, “Don’t know what. Don’t wanna know what. But he had somethin’ planned and it wasn’t a romantic getaway. I’m glad we did find you that mornin’, because we found our Mate." Mike went to her again, loosely wrapping his arms around her waist over her stomach, laying his head on her shoulder.

“I found my Alpha.” He said, “My fantastic Alpha who I love.” She immediately started moving her fingers through his hair and he sighed, relaxing into her further.

“You’re our Mate, doll, and we protect our Mate.” Sy said, “We’ll take those hurts for you, if it means you don’t. You don’t like it, we get that, but we protect our Mate. So don’t you blame yourself, ‘cuz we don’t blame you.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #alternate instincts

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soothinglee · 1 year

Text

➣STAB WOUNDS AND A SOMEWHAT GREATFUL PAITENT✓

Joel Miller x platonic! Reader | Ellie Williams x platonic! Reader

summary: after joel gets stabbed back at the university, it's up to you and ellie to try and fix him back together. but what if the actual thing that needs to be fixed is you and joels relationship?

cautions: heavy mentions of blood and injury, some cursing, lowercased words, somewhat bad writing, maybe some spoilers, description based writing, and could be ooc actions/dialogue, angst angst angst, some humor to cover up the big bulge of angst, and I wonder if anyone really reads this section of my writings.

word count: 1,889 words | 9,982 characters.

authors note: f uppercase words. it's been a while since I've watched tlou on hbomax so give me a break will ya? some of it may be inaccurate but I don't think it will kill you. also sorry for being gone for so long lol. if this fic was good, call it my redemption, if it was trash...call it a filler.

prompts: "You deserve a day off. Please, just take it." @creativepromptsforwriting

m.list | request | rules ☆

since joel got stabbed it seemed like everything started to slow down. you and ellie had managed to find an empty house in an abandoned neighborhood after throughly making sure that you were not being followed. after quickly going each floor making sure there weren't any clickers, you settle joel down on a dirty cot in the basement.

ellie looks at you after placing a ragged blanket on the unconscious man, "we need to clean him up."

glancing back at her, you kneel down to his level to peel back the blanket. the flannel he was wearing had rips in multiple places, a huge gap in the spot where he was stabbed. the dried up blood on the fabric had started to crust making the shirt stick to his skin. moving it gently to not hurt him, you take note that blood had no longer flowed from the wound, but there was a thick layer of something over it.

sighing, you place the shirt back and spare ellie a look, "i need you to do me a favor," ellie nods quickly, "i need you to try and find something to help clean up the wound. it most likely needs to be stitched up. i know it's a stretch and everything might be gone but we need to fix it up."

ellie agrees quietly and goes to the staircase leading to the main floor, but hesitates and retreats, "what...am i looking for exactly?"

you grab your discarded bag from next to joel's head where you left it when you first came in and start to rummage through it. your fingers hopefully dance around the limited items in hopes to find him something to eat until you can go out and hunt, "um," you sniffle, taking notice of the breathe in the frigid air, "a needle, scissors, chopsticks, i mean anything will work as long as it's sharp. oh! and some string. just bring me whatever you can find and i'll work with it."

ellie nods and dashes up the stairs, almost tripping on the last step. you roll your eyes and turn your attention back to joel who was still fast asleep. it had been a long time since any of you had the time to stop and rest so you decided it was better to let him replenish his energy rather than run on empty.

you let your fingers softly caress the crown of his head and sigh, grim and healing scars liter his forehead and cheeks, you lightly scratch at the dirt but give up after seeing it wouldn't go without a wash.

underneath your fingers joel shifts underneath the blanket, you retract and replace your hand on his cheek, he groans with every movement. face scrunching, tugging at the pain in his body.

you frantically look towards the stairs, wishing that ellie would hurry up just a little more. "ellie, quickly!" from upstairs a distance voice shouts "i'm coming!" followed by a hollow thud.

you internally cringe. there was a metal canteen tied loosely on the side of your belt loop with a shoe string, you swiftly untie the knot and spare some drips of water on a ripped cloth you found in your sack and drag it lightly above the grays in his eyebrows. a sudden and firm grip finds its way to your wrist, halting your movement. you look down and see joel now wide awake and alert, his bleak eyes staring back at yours.

"where's ellie?" a hiss comes after. unfazed, you remove his hand and drop it to his chest, continuing with the cleaning.

"good morning to you to sunshine," your voice monotone with a unamused smirk, he makes a taunting noise in return as if saying 'how funny', "she's upstairs getting some supplies," you ring out the cloth and dab the dry parts on his now clean forehead, "speaking of which- ellie!"

as if your voice commanded her, she stumbles down the stairs with an arm full of items, but stops short when she sees joel eying you down, “i’m here-! holy shit he's awake."

"yeah," you grumble dropping the cloth on your lap, "come say hi."

she runs over, not before dropping everything in your laps without a second look, and rushes to the old mans side. she takes a good look at his face, moving it around with her hands. a worried glint passes over her face as her eyebrows furrow, then as quickly as it came anger replaces and she weakly slaps him across the face. you suppress a snicker. "don't ever do that again! you know how scared we were?! we had to haul your big ass on top of callus and y/n was worried and frantically looking for a place for you to recover-" joel glances at you, you avoid eye contact, "and don't even get me started about how much blood you lost, we thought you were going to-"

you quickly cut ellie off with a nervous laugh, noticing the quick breaths coming from joels chest, if he didn't die from the infection then he was certainly going to die of high blood pressure, "oh-kay! that's enough from you, how about you go over there and read one of your comics while i fix him up?" you stand up and grasp ellie by her shoulders and start pushing her to a snug corner in the basement.

"but-!" she starts but you lightly shove her.

"that wasn't a choice, go!" you give her one last exasperated shove and turn back towards joel who was struggling to get up. "no!" you shove him back down, keeping a firm hand on his shoulder. in return he gives your hand a bewildered look, "you are hurt, you need to be patched up, or you will die. if you ever try to get up again i assure you that the infection isn't going to be the thing to kill you, you understand me?"

joel shrinks in his place and stares over your face, after a minute he reluctantly nods and his body relaxes. "thank you." a relived sigh leaves your lips, grateful that you don't have to fight him anymore.

you give a look over the items ellie gave you and- god bless, in the pile were a small needle, string, and a small bottle of jack daniels, along with a surprisingly clean dish towel. you give a quick glance at joel to see him looking at you already with a intrigued squint. "don't look at me like that." you mummer. taking the needle you dip it in the bottle of alcohol and place it on the clean rag and move everything to the side where the wound was.

after threading the string through the small loop in the needle, you take the rag and splash the liquor on it. before you could place it on the floor joel stops you and motions towards the bottle, "gimme it."

confused, you slowly had over the drink and he swipes it, chugging half the bottle down. deadpanned, you snatch it back and place it on the floor, "joel."

"what? if you were in my position you'd want to be drunk too."

"why?" you question, pulling the blanket down and pulling his shirt up. "you don't trust me?"

"no."

"remember your life is in my hands." you place you hand just above the wound and look towards him with the needle in the other. grimacing, you press down on his stomach, "brace yourself."

after a couple hours of white knuckles, gritted teeth, incoherent sorries and gut wrenching pain, you had finally finished the stitches. halfway through ellie had taken her spot across from you, occasionally patting joel's temples free of sweat with the rag you abandoned.

without looking at her, you reach out your hand and motion towards the canteen on the floor. getting the memo, she hands it to you and grasps the back of joels head gently, lifting it up for you to better access his face. "joel." you hum quietly, raising the canteen to his lips, pulling at the bottom one, "open up, you need to drink something."

he emits a grunting noise of protest but doesn't fight it when he feels the cool water fill his dry mouth. he was half asleep, the pain from earlier wearing him out, draining him of any energy he gathered form when he passed out before.

he opens his mouth but a hoarse noise replaces any words he tries to form. you give him some more water. he coughs and wets his lips, looking to you, then ellie, then you again. "d...did you search the area?" his voice slightly cracks.

you roll your eyes and drop the canteen, "what do you think i am? a fucking noob? of course i searched the goddamn area."

"did you search the house."

you give him a blank stare, "ellie did."

"did you-"

"why do you doubt me so much?" you wouldn't call your tone annoyed, maybe disappointed, ellie noticed a hint of sorrow, "i mean i got you this far, ellie's not dead, i'm not dead, you're not dead so I honestly don't see what the issue is. do you have something against me?" your voice pitches an octave up like someone about to cry, though there is not a tear in your eyes.

joels face scrunches up, as if he was taken aback and grunts.

ellie abruptly stands and dusts off her pants, "well i'm going to go," she motions to the two of you, "i don't know what the fuck is going on but i don't want any part of it. so i'll be in my corner reading and trying not to cringe."

you watch as she walks off, then look back towards joel with an annoyed glint in your eyes. after a moment of just staring at each other you shake your head towards him, "so?"

he says nothing, and you have to look away. you been with ellie and joel since loosing tess, and that was months ago. after being through everything with joel it wouldn't kill him to be a little kinder. hell you just saved his life and all he does is just stare at you. a wave of emotions comes over you without any caution and you have to cover up an aggressive sob with a cough. "whatever," you go to stand, kicking the items out the way, pushing the almost empty canteen of water towards him. "you've just been through hell, so you deserve a day off. please, just take it."

you over to ellie who was deep in her comic, "ellie, you have a gun right?" she looks up at you, her lips between her teeth and nods, "if he tries to get up shoot him."

her body shakes from her quiet giggle and mumbles nice. you walk to the wooden staircase and pick up the shotgun you left when you first came in. "i’m going hunting, i can imagine we're all hungry."

before you walk up the stairs you spare joel a glance, to find him staring back at you. his eyes furrowed, a deep frown prominent on his lips, his eyes watching you with despair. please don't go, they say but only if you could read eyes.

you sigh and walk out the door.

#Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x platonic reader #Ellie williams x reader #Ellie williams x platonic reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #qizbe #x platonic reader #masterlist #why doesn't he just be nice #I live for angst #angst #fluff

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essayofthoughts · 1 year

Note

how about vex and one of the kids, cure wounds?

Oh oh! This lets me indulge that headcanon of mine that emotionally gutted you! You know - this one.

It isn't often that Gwennie gets injured, surprisingly enough. She's as enamoured with inventing and explosions as Percy is, but she's also much more fireproof and does actually have a modicum of sense - she knows not to pick up anything sharp and look both ways before crossing the street (or, better yet, to cross the street safely on Trinket's back) and besides which, Percy's very good at bandaging the children up from their inevitable cuts and scrapes well before she returns from a patrol.

So it's rare to see Gwen, a little teary eyed and one hand held gingerly, at the door to the library. Even before spotting the tears she knows something's wrong: Trinket's head swings up from where he'd been sprawled in a sleepy pile on the floor, and she knows how protective of his little siblings Trinket is.

"Mummy?" Gwen's voice is quiet and has that little hitching breath that means even though she's not crying now she had been recently. "I hurt myself."

She steps in when Vex gestures, holding out her hand and oh. Oh, that's nasty. It had taken them a bit of time to see how bruises and burns and cuts look on Gwen's scarlet skin, but this is a nasty graze, thickly clotting dark blood across the heel of her palm like someone's tried to crust her skin with living rubies.

Gwen's blood, though, is far more precious to Vex than any ruby she might encounter.

"Oh darling," she says, taking her daughter's hand in hers. Gwen runs warm - just as warm as Percy to the exact same degree - and the first thing Vex does is press a kiss to Gwen's palm. Kiss it better may not really work, but it soothes the children and with Gwen especially she and Percy have gone out of their way to show her that she's loved. "Let me fix that."

Cure Wounds is an old and familiar spell and it's easy to cast, the words a soft murmur against her daughter's skin before the magic takes effect.

"Oh," says Gwen, as the green-gold washes over her hand, catching around the edge of the graze like water at the shore, sparkling instead of frothing and when it finally fades away the start of the scab does too, leaving behind clean, unmarred skin. "Oh!"

"There we go," Vex says and presses a kiss to Gwen's forehead. "All better."

Gwen's silent, examining her hand closely before comparing it to the scar on her arm - the only mark left on her after a playfight with Danny went wrong and a glass had been smashed. Percy had patched the children up, and everything healed fine, but- well. First scars tend to be remembered.

"Mummy," Gwen says slowly. "Daddy has a lot of these." She points to her scar. "But you can heal things so they don't do that."

"Yes," she says, unsure where Gwen's going with this.

"Can you heal them too? These-" She points at the scar again.

"Scars," she says. "They're called scars."

"Scars," Gwen says. "Can you heal them?"

If only. There's a lot Vex would give to have been able to heal Percy of even half of what Ripley had inflicted on him. She'll settle for the bitch being goddamn dead.

"Scars are what happen when you don't heal bad injuries with magic," she says. "They're how the body heals on it's own." She pulls back her sleeve, shows one of the small bitemarks she has from when she'd been raising Trinket. "See?"

"Oh," Gwen says, still frowning, still clearly thinking. "Daddy was hurt a lot then."

Oh. Oh it's this conversation. Vex has managed to avoid this conversation with all of the children so far - they've all taken it to Percy. She'd thought Gwen would too - the two are thick as thieves and it's quite adorable really - but. Well.

"Yes," she says. "By the same people who hurt your Auntie Cass."

"Oh."

Gwen is still thinking. She doesn't seem upset - and Vex credits herself as being very good at reading her children - but she's not entirely sure what Gwen's thinking at all.

"Uncle Tary says people come up with new spells all the time."

... Okay this is a jump.

"Your Uncle Tary likes to make up stories," she says with a smile. "But yes, some people do develop new spells."

"And Daddy invents new techno- technyli- Tek-no-log-gy." Oh Gwen stumbling over long words shouldn't be so cute but it always is. "And Vesper says that people find new things out all the time too."

"Yes."

Gwen nods, simple and determined, clearly to herself, so much her father's daughter. Vex waits for her daughter to look back up at her and lets her have space to speak.

"I'm going to find out how to heal scars," Gwen says. "But you can't tell him. He'll make The Face."

Oh boy will he. Vex is having a hard time not making it herself now, and covers for that by reaching down to hug her daughter.

"I'm sure you will," she says into Gwennie's pigtails. "Shall I help you find some books on it?"

#vex'ahlia #gwendolyn de rolo #rightpastnowhere #cr fic #my fic #ask #ask game

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pentechnics · 1 year

Text

Effort

Chapter 8 of Latch

Summary: Getting ready for a date isn't something you've done in a while. Din can't remember ever going on a date. There are more things to think about than either of you anticipated, and it becomes overwhelming. Can a potential connection be enough to warrant this effort?

Pairing: Firefighter!Din Djarin x f!reader

Series Content: modern AU, firefighter!Din, coffee shop AU, fluff, slowish burn, sexual tension, mentions of fire/burning buildings, mentions of burn injuries/scars, mentions of trauma/PTSD, eventual sexual content (will tag for specific chapters), falling in love, Din is a sexy firefighter, and he’s BI, you’re a cute barista/baker, sweet and spicy, eventual mentions of abandoned children (will tag for specific chapters), some bits will be from Din’s POV but most is from reader’s, ALSO Fennec and Omera are a thing now I’m love them

Notes: She's here and she's looooong I really hope you all enjoy this one, I've been looking forward to writing and sharing it for ages!! It's such a fun one!! Please let me know what you thought -- we're getting there, folks! Much love to you all, as always!

~~~~

Instead of the normal, quiet day off, Din’s apartment was alive and bustling.

Now that Grogu was fever-free and there was just a week to get ready, Luke had burst his way in as early as possible, eager to follow through on his promise to prepare Din for your date. With him was his sister and brother-in-law, each of whom he claimed played an important role in the process.

From his standing position in the middle of the living room, Din let out a sigh.

Luke and Leia each went around his frame with tape measures, positioning him as they wished like he was a life-sized Barbie doll and he had no choice but to comply. Han sat on the sofa with Grogu propped on his lap, a comical expression on his face. Din shot him a glare just as Luke asked him to lift his right arm.

“Is all of this really necessary?” he asked.

“Of course,” Luke said without hesitation. “We can’t get you a custom suit without your measurements.”

“But is a custom suit necessary?”

“Yes!” came the collective response from both twins.

“Now hold still so I can get this one,” Leia scolded as she squatted and stretched the tape up from Din’s heels.

“A nicely-fitted suit is a staple in any wardrobe,” Luke said with a grin. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Din sighed again and glanced at his giggling baby, who looked back at him with a cheek-puffing smile that threatened to make him melt right there.

“And your part in this, Solo?”

Han shrugged and tousled Grogu’s hair.

“I guess it’s baby duty.”

Din let out a small huff. Lucky little shit.

“Okay, that should do,” Luke said, draping his tape around his shoulders. “I think Lando can work with this.”

“Lando?” Din asked.

“A friend of ours. He owns a high-end clothing store,” Leia gave Din a pat on the shoulder. “He’ll make sure your girl never forgets this date.”

She accentuated her words with a wink. Din sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

This was madness. Spending all day trying on different suits and having a bunch of strangers stare at him to evaluate every little thing, it sounded so exhausting. They hadn’t even left yet and he was already done with it.

When the twins left to prepare for departure, Han stood and handed Grogu off to join them. Din cradled the giggly bundle in his arms, gazing into those big brown eyes while Grogu busied himself with sucking on his fingers.

“They’re really something, aren’t they?”

Grogu babbled around his full mouth. Din chuckled and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“You’re right. She is, too.”

While Grogu of course didn’t actually say that, thinking of you had Din’s scrambled, overwhelmed mind unwinding once more. Picturing your bright smile, imagining the sound of your voice, it reminded him of why he was going through all this trouble to begin with.

This was a show of how much value this date held for him: it was a chance to confront his insecurities and give his world the chance to expand. A chance for something new for you both, something that could be truly special. A chance to spend as much time with you as he wanted – no alarms, no emergency calls, nothing to come in between. In the end, the promised wildness of the day would be worth it.

Seeing you smile would make all of this worth it.

As if reading his thoughts, Grogu let out a happy wail and reached up to touch Din’s face with his free hand. The smooth, soft skin of his little appendages gently caressed his scruff, dragging a scene out from deep in the recesses of Din’s memory bank. The small flashback had his eyes growing misty, his breaths deepening, like a dry well replenishing its water supply. He smiled and gave Grogu a little squeeze.

“All right, pal,” Din bounced Grogu in his arms as he made his way to the bedroom. “Let’s give you a change before we go.”

~~~~

Harley was only too thrilled to help you prepare for your date.

They wasted no time dragging you to several stores, determined to find the perfect outfit.

“I could just wear something I already own,” you said with a shrug as they shoved several hangers into your arms.

“No offense, hon, I love you, but your wardrobe is not up to current date code.”

“... Current date code?”

“Exactly.”

“What does that even mean?”

They didn’t answer, instead choosing to continue collecting articles of clothing throughout the store. It was like watching a colorful tornado plunge through each aisle, and you were just the poor cow that got swept up from the field. Once your arms were filled to the brim they used that same force to push you towards the fitting rooms.

“Don’t forget to show me!”

You sighed as the door to the stall shut behind you, unloading your arsenal onto the little bench before sorting through it. Several different dresses and suits made up the pile, all kinds of colors and patterns swimming together before your eyes.

Do I really need to try on all of this, you wondered. We’ll be here for years at this rate.

You made your way through the selection, watching as each garment framed your body in varying ways. But despite Harley’s exclamations punctuating each one, you remained unsure and unconfident.

Some outfits were more exposed to the elements than others; more often than not your shoulders were nice and covered, though your legs were on display. But those scars weren’t as much of a concern — you could always wear tights if you wanted to cover them up. Yet even with that assurance, seeing them in these dressy outfits made something dry and unpleasant sprout in your gut.

After deciding against the purple pants suit you were currently wearing, you moved on, blindly putting on the next garment and then turning to face the mirror.

It turned out to be a lovely slip dress in a dark emerald green, held onto your shoulders by thin spaghetti straps. The fabric reflected against the light, giving it the impression of a finer silk. It fit like a glove, flattered your body, and was actually comfortable compared to some of the other items you’d just tried. In essence, it was perfect.

But your eyes refused to look away from every single little burn that adorned your arms, which were now completely uncovered. Your compression sleeve was on full display, along with the discoloration of your bicep that leaked out from underneath it and made its way down the rest of your arm.

There would be no hiding in this outfit.

A sudden churning sensation sprang to life in your stomach, threatening to fold you over. Your skin crawled against itself as if trying to escape the confines of its current form, and you wanted so desperately to scratch at it to alleviate the sensation. You bit your lip and tried to remember to breathe.

“You ready yet?” Harley called, “I wanna see!”

“Um,” you gulped, wringing your fingers together and forcing your eyes towards the ground. “I-I don’t like this one. I’m not getting it.”

“Which one is it? Come on, at least let me look before you take it off.”

“No!”

You couldn’t help the crack in your voice. The sensations were growing stronger. The familiar fogginess in your throat made your breath hitch, and you fought against your mind with all your might to stay right there in the dressing room instead of being dragged back to that place.

Several slow, silent moments passed. The door felt all at once like a comforting barrier from the world and an isolating cage from any semblance of peace or comfort. The slightest movement from the other side was your only clue that Harley was still there.

“... Can I come in?”

The idea of letting them see you like this was not at all pleasant, but you couldn’t hide in there forever. You opened the door just enough for them to squeeze through before closing and locking it once more, as if danger would follow them in if you didn’t. Harley turned to face you in the small space; their eyes bulged and jaw dropped upon seeing the dress.

“My god, you look incredible in this!”

You shook your head, hands coming up to cover your shoulders and eyes focusing anywhere but that damn mirror. The rough texture of the compression sleeve scraped against your fingertips.

“I can’t do this, Harley,” you whispered, an unexpected wave of panic and sadness washing over you.

“Wait, why not? What’s wrong?”

They led you to the bench with a gentle nudge and knelt in front of you as you sat.

“Talk to me, boo.”

You stared at your lap, your head dizzy with anxious energy. You tried to shake it out, which only served to increase the swirling.

“I can’t… I can’t go out looking like this.”

“What do y-”

“These, Harley.” you extended your arms out, jutting your chin towards your scars. “I can’t just go out with these all over me.”

Harley glanced down at them before their eyes came back up to your face. If they were trying to hide the tiny flinch in their expression, they failed.

“And this,” you brought your sleeved shoulder forward, wincing at the sight of it. “This isn’t…”

You sighed. You couldn’t bring yourself to complete the sentence. Harley’s eyes narrowed.

“... please don’t tell me you were about to say ‘attractive.’”

You bit your lip rather than responding, refusing to look them in the eye. Should you care what others thought? Of course not. But it was a difficult habit to break. They took a deep breath and dipped their head down. The feeling of their eyes on you seemed to somehow highlight the shadow of shame fogging your mind.

“Honey, I can’t blame you for being nervous about that. Especially with what you’ve gone through at work.”

You nodded and relished in the warmth of one of your hands being held in both of theirs.

“And if you’re not ready to wear this dress for your date, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to. But there is one thing I need you to remember.”

You looked up to meet their gaze. They leaned in a bit closer, brows knit together.

“You are one of the most beautiful souls on this planet. You’re fun and kind and super sweet, there’s no one I know who doesn’t absolutely love you after meeting you. No matter what you or your body go through, no matter what anyone says, and no matter how this date goes, that will never change.”

A lump rose in your throat. The genuine concern and love in your friend’s eyes filled you with serenity, as if they were hugging your heart with their words.

“I’m sorry,” they went on, “I didn’t think about the burns when I picked out this stuff. Let’s start over and just focus on making sure you’re comfortable, okay?”

You nodded and wiped away a stray tear.

“I do love this dress, though,” you breathed, running the hem through your fingers and mentally mourning the potential of wearing it again. “I think that’s the worst part.”

Harley fell silent as you admired the garment, eventually getting up and gathering your rejects into their arms.

“C’mon,” they said, “switch back out and let’s go try this again.”

~~~~

“Where are you taking her?”

Luke rode with Din and Grogu while Leia and Han led the way to Lando’s in their car. Din shrugged at the question, giving Luke a quick glance before returning his attention to the road.

“No clue,” he confessed. “I’m not too familiar with the restaurants around here.”

“Do you know what she likes to eat?”

Din tried to think through your conversations, but aside from sweets, nothing came to him. He shook his head.

“Not for dinner, at least.”

Luke sighed and reached for Din’s phone.

“Wh- what are you doing?”

“We’ll text her. And based on her answer, I’ll help you find a place.”

“Wait, why can’t we just find something day-of?”

“Oh, Mr. Djarin,” Luke tisked at him, as if he were a child missing a very obvious point. “You’ve got to plan ahead. Make a reservation. Putting in that effort not only shows you care and that you’re paying attention to what she likes, but it also takes some stress off of you when the time comes. It guarantees you’ll know where to go and that there will be a spot for you.”

Din had never made a reservation at a restaurant before. Hell, he couldn’t even recall the last time he ate at one. Who knew dating had so many rules.

“Just… let me read it before you send it.”

“Of course.”

Luke typed away as Din took a turn into a small parking lot.

“Looks like we’re here,” Din pulled into an empty space and turned to Luke, who held out the phone for approval.

Caught between a few options for dinner. What do you like to eat? Do you have any allergies or anything I should keep in mind?

Din scanned it a few times before giving a small, somewhat reluctant nod.

“... Looks fine.”

“See? No need to worry – I know how to sound like you.”

Din shook his head and grinned before getting out of the car and heading to the backseat to retrieve Grogu.

Upon entering the sizable boutique, the group was soon greeted by a man: sharply dressed with a cape draping behind him, and the tone of his chuckle dripping with charisma. He clapped his hands together as he approached them.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite set of twins,” he greeted Luke and Leia by taking their hands in each of his and flashing a bright smile. He gave Han a mere nod before turning to Din, a certain luster lining his gaze.

“And who do we have here?”

“Lando, this is our friend, Din,” Luke gave Din a pat on his shoulder. “He’s got a big date and needs a nice suit.”

Lando looked Din up and down with a smirk before snapping his fingers and gesturing to the group to follow him.

“This is gonna be a good one, folks!”

Din gave Grogu a little squeeze and sucked in a breath before following.

Lando pulled out several suits in an array of colors for Din to try on, making him stand on a small pedestal surrounded by mirrors after each one. Grogu cooed from his spot on Luke’s lap every time he came out of the dressing room.

He was currently in a suit of deep maroon, staring at his several reflections with furrowed brows and lips in a firm line. The tingling sensation that came from having so many eyes and bright lights on him at once threatened to make him sweat through it.

“What do you think of this color?” Lando asked, smoothing down one of Din’s arms.

Din shrugged.

“How much does the color matter?”

“My friend, nothing impresses a lady more than confidence. And if you’re confident in how you look, the rest will follow. Sometimes the color of your suit can be what helps you get there.”

Din looked at Luke for support through the mirror’s reflection, who merely shrugged while Grogu giggled from his lap.

“He’s right. We can give you our opinions but you have to like it.”

Din gulped and took another look at the maroon suit. His shoulders hardly fit into the jacket, making it puff out. It framed his waist in a way he wasn’t used to: tight and cinched. His stomach jutted out at the bottom, making it flare underneath the one button that was closed. The dress shirt underneath was also stretched out around his pecs and belly, seemingly ready to burst at any given moment. He pulled at the jacket’s tails.

“... Are suits meant to be this tight?”

“In some ways, yes. We’d probably get you a longer jacket, though. And slightly taller pants, since they’re meant to land right around here,” Lando pointed two fingers to Din’s waist. “And the jacket should come down to here,” he adjusted his fingers to point at the top of Din’s hip.

“But this here,” Lando touched a finger to the cascading collar that led to the two buttons below on the suit jacket. “That is the right fit for this style. And for your occasion, this is the style I recommend. Classy, modern, and brings out all the right parts.”

He added a flare to his voice for the last few words. Din’s brow furrowed again as he gave Lando a glare. Right parts? What did that even mean? Lando raised his hands in surrender and turned to his selection of suits.

“Let’s try the navy next.”

~~~~

You helped Harley with picking out the next selection.

They were slower and more deliberate with their methods, making sure to ask your opinions on clothing before deciding you’d try them on. You had significantly less clothing in your arms by the time you went to the fitting room, but knowing what to expect beforehand helped ease your anxiety about closing yourself into the small stall again.

These items were much more doable – they kept you covered enough without being a full frock, and didn’t accentuate anything you were trying to hide.

You were switching out of a nice top and wide-legged slacks when Harley knocked on the door.

“Do you know where he’s taking you, by the way?”

“No clue,” you called, grabbing a dress from the top of the pile. “We just agreed to have dinner.”

You were immediately taken by the texture of the dress: soft and smooth, to the point that it had you relaxing your shoulders. Harley had picked this one out; it didn’t seem too flashy or extravagant on the hanger, but when you slipped it on and turned to face the mirror, it was like the world stopped turning.

You were draped in a lovely deep blue velvet, your body hugged but not suffocated by the material. The pencil-like skirt landed above your knee and a nice wrapped v-neck topped it off. The sleeves ended right at your wrists.

It seemed as though it was made for you.

And while the green one also seemed that way, you didn’t see any fear when you looked in the mirror this time. No – instead there was joy. Excitement. The feeling that everyone needed to see you right then because damn, did you look good.

The jitters in your hands were definitely not from your anxiety. Not in the slightest. They felt way too good.

“Harley,” you called, unable to keep down your grin while you opened the door. “I think this is the one!”

“Oh, fuck yeah it is!”

They ogled at the dress, asking you to twirl so they could see the full thing.

“You make that thing sing, babe.”

You smiled and looked back at the mirror. Even before the accident, how long had it been since you looked in the mirror and saw someone so confident? So pretty? You couldn’t recall.

Hope began to rebuild its fortress in your heart. Slowly, but surely.

The two of you walked out of the store with a bag in hand each, yours containing the dress along with a matching purse and shoes.

“If only that thing had pockets,” Harley huffed. You laughed and gestured to their bag.

“What did you get?”

“I saw this atrocious sweater while you were trying stuff on. A million horrid color combinations, random fruit patches – I just had to have it.”

You laughed even harder. Classic Harley.

~~~~

Din flopped down onto the bench with a huff. Now free from the fourth suit in the lineup, he pressed his face into his hands, taking deep breath after deep breath as a tangled web of nerves made its way up and down his body.

How much longer did he need to do this? How many more times was he going to be subject to certain embarrassment from pants that were too tight or a jacket that almost ripped because of his protruding stomach or thick chest? Lando preached confidence, yet no such sensation had shown itself during the past hour.

This was precisely why he never wore anything tighter than a t-shirt.

Din glanced down at his socked feet before dragging his eyes up to the two remaining suits on the rack. What would he do if he didn’t like any of them? What if this whole thing was just a waste of time that only served to dampen his bodily perception?

A light knock sounded from the other side of the fitting room door.

“Mr. Djarin? You okay in there?”

“‘M fine, Luke,” he gritted, “Just need a minute.”

“I know it’s been a lot today, you’re probably exhausted. We can stop here if you want.”

His voice was soft, brimming with concern. A welcomed reprieve from the hostility of Din’s thoughts.

“We haven’t found anything that works, though. I’m not leaving empty-handed after all this.”

Luke was quiet. Din let out a sigh and sat up.

“Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“You don’t.” Luke shuffled about before he went on. “This is hard, and I’m surprised you’re letting me help, to be honest. But I’m really glad you are.”

He paused. Din closed his eyes, unable to fathom the depths of Luke’s patience.

“This is actually why we did the measurements at your place – otherwise, they’d have taken them here and it would’ve been a longer, more stressful process for you.”

Din cracked a small grin. Damn this kid and his huge, golden heart.

“How about this,” Din could hear the smile in Luke’s voice. “Let’s take a break. We’ll go get some food, take a little walk, then come back and finish this out.”

As if on cue, Din’s stomach voiced its agreement. He chuckled and got to his feet.

“Deal.”

~~~~

When you read Din’s text, it took a moment to remember anything about yourself.

“Harley, what do I like to eat?”

“Why are you asking me?” they gawked at you from the driver’s seat of their car as if you’d grown a third arm. You laughed and shrugged, taking a moment to think before beginning to type out your response.

“It’s really nice of him to ask.” “Very good sign,” Harley said with a pronounced nod. “Ten more points in his favor.”

“Yeah? What’s his total so far?”

Harley hummed in thought, caressing their chin between their fingers.

“Well… he did save your life. That’s like, an automatic ten million points off the bat. So he’s doing pretty good.”

You grinned and shook your head before returning your gaze to the scenery around you. The sun was lower in the sky, sheer washes of yellow mingling with the mellow blue and gray that had dominated most of the day.

“Additionally, he drove you home that one time it rained. And he won you an arcade prize, so combined that’s another good thousand points.”

“What kind of point scale are you using?” you laughed, “These are huge numbers.”

“Why, would you rather he get less? Hm? Don’t you question my methods!”

A point made with humor, but a good point nonetheless.

Harley took a turn before pulling into a parking spot and killing the engine. As quiet took over the car you unbuckled your belt and turned to face them with a smile.

“Thank you again for driving me to work, you’re the best.”

“No problem! I’m glad we got everything done before your shift.”

“Do you want a coffee? I’ll even bring it out to you.”

Harley placed a dramatic hand on their chest and sighed.

“A woman after my own heart.”

You laughed and climbed out of the car, a sense of calmness following you into the front doors of Cal’s. Having all the practicalities for the date in place made room for you to sort through your nerves – you only hoped a week would be enough time.

After delivering the coffee and bidding farewell to an ecstatic and grateful Harley, you got started cleaning the counters and washing the few dishes that were waiting in the sink. The subtle routine of your work was grounding; each little task kept you focused on the moment before you, leaving little room for your mind to wander to bad places.

The sun shone behind the buildings that surrounded Cal’s, filtering out the harsher glares and leaving a soothing yellow-orange sheen behind. People walked to and fro, casting shadows onto the tiled floor. The stoplight twinkled as its colors changed, cars revving away when given the green. Soft music sang from the speakers, mingling with the quiet chatter of the few patrons seated at the tables.

Every now and then the ding of the front door would call your attention to the view, and the cozy joy seeped through you all over again. Kind customers and fun drink orders were the cherry on top to the beginning of what promised to be a lovely shift.

~~~~

With a full belly and a baby strapped to his chest, Din found the thorns surrounding his mood receding.

The group made their way down the block, Grogu kicking and cooing at the four of them as they spoke. Din checked out of the conversation and kept his attention trained on making sure Grogu didn’t accidentally injure anyone.

“I could use some coffee,” Leia said, giving Luke a grin. “Any good places around here?”

“There’s actually one around the block, let’s head there.”

The twins cast a quick glance at Din, only to find him oblivious to their destination.

“Well, this will be fun,” Leia whispered.

“It’ll be good for him. Plus, otherwise I have no idea how long it’ll be before I get to meet her!”

Leia and Han laughed at Luke's enthusiasm.

Luke arrived at the door first and held it open for the rest of the party.

“Welcome! I’ll be with you in a minute!”

Din froze at the sound, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Like a hummingbird taking flight, anxiety began to flutter within him. His eyes darted all about the increasingly familiar landscape until they landed behind the counter: you were standing with your back to him, seemingly preparing a drink.

It was like he’d fallen into a void. All at once everything else fell away until all that was left was you.

Then all too quickly, a chuckle from his side brought the café back into focus. He glared at Luke.

“Wh- when did we end up here?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention. Plus, how else would you want to spend your break?”

With a final grin he joined Leia and Han in line.

Din sighed and glanced down at Grogu.

“For the record,” he said as Grogu sucked on his pacifier. “This is not how I pictured you meeting her.”

~~~~

You almost dropped the drink when you turned around to hand it off to your customer.

How long had it been since you last saw Din? The weeks seemed to blend together. But there he was, in the flesh, making your heart thump slow and deep.

And he wasn’t alone.

You handed off the drink as your eyes drifted down to Din’s chest, where a bjorn was strapped and a little inquisitive head was looking all around with big, bright baby browns, unruly curled hair bouncing about, and teeny hands gripping at the teal pacifier in his mouth.

Your heart instantly liquified. That photo could not have prepared you for how adorable he actually was.

“Oh, my gosh,” you whispered, waving Din to the counter. “Is this Grogu?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, the slightest crack in his voice.

You couldn’t contain the tiny squeal that escaped your throat, your eyes finding Din’s before asking, “Can I say hello?”

He nodded and leaned in further, giving you a chance to lean in closer to Grogu’s chubby little face.

“Hi there,” you cooed, “Aren’t you just the most beautiful baby ever!”

Grogu laughed, his pacifier flopping out of his mouth as he reached out towards you. The sound pierced right through you, warmth blossoming in your chest and rising to your face. You put out a hand for him to grab onto and introduced yourself, the sensation of his soft little fingers against your skin almost bringing you to tears.

Just as Din did when you first met, Grogu encompassed your every sense. You caressed his cheek with your finger, delighting in the sounds he continued to make. A light chuckle from Din made him bounce up and down, and he looked up to his dad with glee.

“Din, he’s incredible,” you looked up with him to find Din’s face plastered in joy.

His brows were relaxed, his smile small, but prominent enough to make the apples of his cheeks pop out. Little crinkles collected beside his hooded eyes. Several little joys coming together like pieces of a puzzle.

“I think he likes you.”

You smiled and stood straight once more. Only then did you catch sight of his other companions, making your heart plummet into your stomach.

“Crap, I’m so sorry!”

You held a hand up towards them and introduced yourself. They laughed while one of them came to stand beside Din.

“Don’t worry, Grogu has that effect on all of us. I’m Luke.”

You shook Luke’s hand as he introduced Leia and her husband, Han.

“I’ve heard great things about you, Luke,” you said with a grin.

“Likewise. You know, as much as one can get from this guy.”

Though you weren’t quite sure what he meant you gave a polite chuckle and waved them all to the register to take their orders: a café au lait for Leia, and an Americano for Han. When it was Luke’s turn he looked at the menu with bewilderment before turning back to you.

“What would you recommend for someone who hates coffee but doesn’t have much of a taste for tea, either?”

“Well, first off, welcome to the club,” you began with a laugh, “And second I’d recommend either the chai or the matcha latte. The chai is really nice and creamy, and is only a little bitter without sugar. That one’s one of my favorites.”

You regarded Luke as you spoke, the way his expression seemed to morph with every word you said. You had a feeling you could predict what he’d pick based on his face alone.

“And the matcha is super nice – very faint, earthy flavor that just has a way of calming you down.”

“That sounds good, let’s go with that.”

Just as you’d predicted. You grinned and added it to the order before turning to Din. He leaned in and glanced at your list of teas.

“What was that one tea you were telling me about, the one you add to the black mango?”

“Oh, the pear ginger!”

“That,” he snapped and pointed at you. “I’ll try that combo today.”

“Excellent! Do you want it with milk?”

He thought for a moment before nodding. A bud of pride swelled within you; that was another one of your favorites, and he’d remembered it enough to want to try it.

“Anything from the bakery for you all?”

The other three were already scoping out options and adding their choices to the order while Din stayed in place. You gave him a look, at which he shook his head. You smiled and proceeded to take out the pastries.

“Okay, we’ve got a muffin and a croissant, an apple fritter fresh from the oven, and…” you trailed off as you slipped a macaron into a fourth bag, gently sliding it towards Din.

“Hey, no-”

“My treat! It’s a new flavor!”

The usual back and forth ended with him reluctantly accepting your gift and glaring at you when you inputted your employee discount again. You made small talk with the group as you began to work, the three of them going to sit at a table after the first two drinks were done. Din took Grogu out of his bjorn and sat him on his lap at the counter.

“You can go sit with your friends, you know. You don’t have to stay here.”

“They have been dragging me around all day, I have had my fill.” Din leaned in closer. “Believe me, I’d much rather be here.”

You giggled to cover up the butterflies those words conjured up and began to pour the matcha latte into a to-go cup. Grogu grabbed at the counter with his teeny hands, babbling about in his own tongue.

“Oh, that’s so true,” you said to him. Din chuckled.

“What’d he say?”

“He said his papa has good taste in friends.”

Din raised a brow and glanced down at the baby.

“Oh? I heard something different.”

“What’s that, then?” you cocked your head to the side and turned to grab the foam for the latte art.

“He said the pretty lady is very nice.”

You stopped in your tracks and fixed your wide eyes on him.

He… He just called you pretty.

You were staring into the most gorgeous pair of eyes on this planet and he called you pretty? Your mind was wiped of all thoughts, your limbs frozen in place. He slowly tilted his head to the side, his intense gaze burning into your retinas like the sun on a summer day.

What you wouldn’t give to be able to kiss him right then and there. You let your eyes drift down to his plump lips for the briefest of seconds before taking a deep breath and resuming your task.

“I think papa bribed him to say that.”

That got a good, albeit short, laugh from Din. Out of the corner of your eye you saw three heads perk up at the sound. Don’t they get to hear that beautiful melody all the time though, you wondered.

You recentered your focus on the latte art, gently pouring the foam in several little increments.

“I just learned how to do this,” you said to Din, “Let’s see how it turns out.”

He and Grogu leaned forward to watch you work. After the larger circles were in place you poured a few streaks down the middle, making them break into leaf shapes.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Din breathed, his voice deep and dry. You tried and severely failed to ignore the tremor it sent down your body.

“He’ll want to see that before you cover it up.” Din turned and waved Luke over.

Upon seeing the leaves, Luke’s eyes lit up and he immediately reached into his pocket to take a photo with his phone. You grew shy from the compliments, waving them off and making your way to the tea counter to prepare Din’s drink.

The familiar tingle of Din’s gaze was like a hug as you scooped the tea leaves into a little bag, wrapping it up before steeping it in the water. You thought about the flavors of these two brews: rich, decadent, bold. If they were a sound they’d take over anything else – a literal din over the crowd.

Wow. As you thought about it, the pieces came together. If you were to describe Din with a drink, he would definitely be this one.

He was quiet, yet somehow took over a space in the most pleasant of ways. He was smooth and warm, with a surprising kick of charm that took different forms: sarcasm, wittiness, even the occasional silent flirting. Possibly more that you had yet to discover. And the dash of vanilla was the sweetness that showed itself in every little action, even if it wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. It came naturally.

You stirred in the milk and closed up the cup before you brought it to him.

“Here we are,” you said with a smile, making sure to put it directly in his grasp to avoid Grogu’s little grabby hands.

You didn’t miss the way he brushed his fingers over yours. Or the way he maintained eye contact as he did it.

God, this man would be the end of you.

“I-it’s hot, you might want to wait a little bit before drinking it.”

“Got it.” He put it onto the counter – careful to keep it out of Grogu’s reach – and returned his attention to you.

You let the silent moment stretch on, sighing at how the low sun reflected off the sharp features of his face and highlighted his brown hair with streaks of gold. The urge to kiss him reared its head once more. But this time it was him who looked down before meeting your gaze again.

“I’m…” Din paused to clear his throat and reposition Grogu. “I’m looking forward to our date.”

You couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face.

“Me, too.”

~~~~

Saying goodbye to little Grogu was nearly impossible.

He clung to your hands with all his might – even with an entire counter separating you – despite Din’s attempts to persuade him. Grogu’s little face crinkled and flustered in frustration, groans of disapproval escaping him.

“Aw, it’s okay, little guy,” you said with a smile, giving his hands a squeeze. “I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

This seemed to calm him down; his features smoothed out the slightest bit, and continued to do so when you ran a hand through his thick, silky curls.

Din peered down at you as you talked to the baby, something akin to wonder in his eyes when you looked at them.

You watched the group walk out the door and make their way past the window. Din gave you a final wave and a smile before disappearing from view.

You released a breath you weren’t aware of holding. What a precious family, you thought.

And seeing Grogu strapped to Din’s chest in a baby bjorn? No other image has ever enabled such a desire to belong. To mean something to someone you hardly knew. To mean something to his baby.

What did that even mean? You had no idea. With few exceptions you spent much of your life alone – no group of confidants stuck around as years went on. Uncle Dave passed, and even folks who worked at the Mark came and went with time. Harley was the closest you had left of a family, and they’d only been in your life for the past few years.

Sure, sometimes that’s all a family was: two people against the world. But meeting Din, and now meeting his constants, it had a wound reopening inside your chest.

Something was still missing. And you hadn’t a clue what it was.

What you did know, though, was that you couldn’t wait to see that man and his child again.

~~~~

Din walked back into the suit shop with a determination he didn’t realize he could muster.

He handed Grogu off to Luke and plunged right back into trying on the remaining suits, even going as far as to let Lando pick out a couple more. The grin that split your face in half upon seeing Grogu’s face, the fact that you didn’t even hesitate to embrace him, it played over and over in his mind.

He would’ve married you on the spot.

As wild as the thought was, he couldn’t help it. Yes, Grogu had a way of stealing the show more often than not, but to see someone gaze at him with such a sense of warm acceptance stirred something deep within him. Something he presumed was long lost.

He let his mind project the image of you grasping Grogu’s little hands again while he suited up, grinning at him and speaking with him as if you could perfectly understand his little spurts of nonsense. You would look up at Din with pure joy in your expression, a smile dripping with excitement and words of sweet honey that melted him from within, the glow from the sun framing you in a delicate primrose yellow and making your eyes shine like stars on a clear night.

He focused in on the details as he finished up, keeping his eyes away from the mirror to avoid distraction from the goal. When he was ready he made his way out to the group.

Eyes turned to him almost immediately, expressions widening and gasps from Leia and Han that made Din wonder if it was all meant to be good or bad. He gulped and glanced at Luke, who wordlessly nodded his head towards the pedestal behind him.

With a sigh and a gaze trained on his shoes, Din climbed up onto it and forced his eyes to the mirror.

And then he couldn’t look away.

Now he understood what Lando had meant by confidence.

The gray suit not only fit so much better than the rest – the pants being high enough for his belly to rest within them without getting crushed, the undershirt not being tugged around with each movement, and the jacket having some more breathing room for his shoulders – but the color… it just looked so right.

It was a darker gray; not so close to black that it didn’t get seen, but dark enough to not make him stick out. A likeness of shaded chrome that made the bronze of his skin pop in contrast and had the brown of his eyes sparkling.

… At least, he agreed in silence when Luke said that last part.

“Honestly, you look stunning.” Leia said with a grin. Han nodded along.

“Very sleek, man.”

Unlike all the other suits, Din was… weirdly excited to have everyone see him like this. The smiles and compliments from everyone, they piled up within him into a stack of warm, light energy that he wasn’t sure how to handle. He fiddled with his hands before catching one more smiling face in the mirror.

He turned around and reached out for Grogu.

“What do you think, kid, is this the one?”

Din received him from Luke’s arms and carried him back to the pedestal, watching him grin upon seeing their several clones in the mirrors. A happy coo filled the space – the last straw that made Din break out into a full grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

****

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin #grogu #fluff #latch

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