#can you tell having a job I don’t cry about daily is making me resent my former employer lol

[singlecrochet]

working with an older guy who is pretty good with the technology he uses daily but not super into other stuff as someone with basic tech literacy and related problem solving skills is making me feel wayyyyy smarter and more knowledgeable than I actually am lol

[iforgetmypasswordsdaily]

I love you. That’s no question. I am begging you to read this & give me a heartfelt response in some way. What I’m really coming to a head with is how you yell at Harper, smack the table etc & literally have her terrified. We have this issue almost daily, every week. She runs from you, covering her ears & is scared of you. I don’t know how much more I, as well as her, can take of it. I know I don’t talk the nicest either. But I am willing to work on that together with you. If you would just talk to her & tell her what you want her to do, even show her but make her do it, that’s so much more productive than scaring the hell out of her. Our parents did that to us & it IS Verbal Abuse that she WILL remember. I’ve been doing some research & I don’t want this for our family. I REALLY need you to work on this. It makes me want to pull away from you because of the anxiety I feel. I’m not supposed to feel like I have to watch her 24/7 around you. How can I live like that? How can I feel safe, in turn, making Harper feel safe? I’m more concerned about her emotional health than anything else. Including our marriage. I don’t want our marriage to suffer because I’m scared. I don’t want to live like that. I don’t want to have so much anxiety leaving her with you in fear of how much she’s going to be scared, crying & you not trying to just talk to her. She is 3. 3. THREE. She has emotions. She’s trying to develop & understand them. We can’t make her feel terrified of us. I can’t have it. I can’t parent like that. I can’t let her be treated like that. Yes, I may ask a few times then I get louder. But I don’t immediately scream at her the first time asking her or telling her XYZ. That’s just wrong. You NEVER take me seriously, not once & that really pisses me off. You say sorry to end the conversation. You mock me about it all. How am I supposed to feel about that? Inferior as hell is how I feel. Gaslit. Makes me feel cold towards you. Makes me not want to be as intimate with you because of how I feel you’re turning me against you. It makes me resentful & thats the last thing I want, is to feel these feelings towards my husband. It makes me so scared. Of how she will turn out. How she will fear you. Never want to be close to you growing up. That was my life with my Dad for 20 something years. What I wouldn’t give to have a Dad who didn’t hit me, who didn’t scream at me constantly. It’s very similar as far as the verbal abuse in the way you act with Harper. What I wouldn’t give to have been able to be a Daddy’s girl. I couldn’t even give him a Father Daughter dance at our wedding. I’m still hurt about how he treated me for so long. I wouldn’t wish that on my girls, ever. You can’t tell me you’d rather her fear you than love you. There’s no way you could actually want that. If so, why have a child? They aren’t our whipping girls. They are a blessing & you should at least try the patience route until you just can’t. It won’t make her weak. Or you. It will make her feel safe. That’s all I want …is her to feel safe. Not be fearful of you. I don’t want to be fearful of you. All of that said, you ARE a good father, you provide more than any man I’ve ever known & I know that deep down you CAN be softer towards her. You take her to Matt’s & I assume play with her. That’s good. I like that & I’m sure she does too. But I need more from you. Starting with Harper. I can put my emotional & physical needs from you on the back burner to make Harper feel safe.

But let me tell you something right now…

I am NOT dramatic.

I am NOT overreacting.

I am being a MOTHER.

And if you cannot respect that then we’ve got some deeper problems. I want the rest of my life with you. With the girls. But I do have a breaking point. We all do. I’ve tried hard to keep up with the house & feel better doing it. I know that’s not some huge thing, but it is for me. Next year, when Harper starts school I will get a job & be able to contribute more financially to help take some of the burden off you.

All I’m asking is to just read this. Take it to heart. Trust me when I say that I can only take so much. I don’t have anywhere to go if it ever came down to us splitting up, which I hope NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER happens & I hope that’s not a reason for you to take my concerns so lightly, knowing I’ve got nowhere to go.

I love you.

Harper loves you.

Believe it or not, Madi loves you too.

[pastelavender88]

Right Person At Maybe The Wrong Time- Chapter 3

Summary:

How will Evan react to the news? What happens when Alex finds out?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

5 Years Ago

"Mama? How come I don't have a dad?" When Alex first asked me that question, I didn't know what to say or do. She was looking at me with those doe eyes, and something inside of me was wanting to break down. I knew if I avoided the question, it would only make her more confused and hurt her later in life. So, I decided to tell Alex the truth, at least as much as I could.

"Well, sweetheart, when I was younger, your daddy and I were dating, and when I became pregnant with you, I was so excited. Your dad was moving, so instead of telling him, I decided that he should move. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" I was hoping that I did a good job explaining, but I knew deep down that I messed that up.

"I think so, but does he miss us?" She was starting to get to me.

"Well, baby, I'm sure he does every day." Eventually, when Alex got older, she understood what I meant. If there was anyone to resent or blame, it was me.

Present Day

"Alex, baby, how about you go with Mr.Diaz and his son, Christopher, while I talk to my friend here. Both of you can pick out any candy you want" I usually didn't trust just anyone with Alex, but Buck trusts Eddie, and he had a kid of his own, so he knew how to take care of kids. I looked over to Buck, and the look on his face was confusing. It seemed like he wanted to kill me, but at the same time, it looked like he was genuinely hurt. "Evan, listen..."

"It's been ten years since I last saw you. 10 years, Y/N! This is how I find out I have a kid. Really? Did you know before I left? Did you know that you were pregnant?" I didn't know what to say, I knew he had every right to be angry, but it still hurt the way he was yelling at me. "Y/N, please, did you know?

"Yes, okay, I knew I was pregnant before you left, but Evan, it's not like I could just tell you. I mean..."

"So what, somehow this is my fault! That you couldn't tell me because I made it impossible! I mean, come on, was this some last attempt to get back at me for leaving, some evil..." Something to over me when he said the last part of that statement. The next thing I knew, I had slapped Evan across the face. It shocked both of us, but my shock was quickly changed to anger.

"How dare you! The whole time we were together, do you honestly think I can do something like that, something so vile! You wanna know why I didn't tell you, Evan. It's because I was scared okay, I was young and naive, and when I needed you, you left." Once I started, I couldn't stop. "4 years we were together, 4 years Evan, and you left because your life was getting harder. Do you think I would honestly try to saddle you with a kid, huh?"

"You could have asked me to stay. You could have told me about Alex." He made it seem like it was that simple like it was a daily crossword puzzle.

"Yeah, Evan, because it's that simple. What would you have done, Evan, huh? Ask me to marry you, live a suburban life with dogs and a nice home owners association. No, Evan, that's not what I wanted. I didn't want Alex or me to be seen as to why you didn't go far in life. Why you became another old has-been. I couldn't do that to myself or Alex, okay? I'm sorry, Evan, I really am, but it really wasn't that simple." By the time I caught my breath, I looked behind me and saw Alex staring back at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"Mom, is this my dad?" Evan and I looked at each other, hoping the other would know the best approach to this, but we were both coming up blank. "Well?"

"Yes, Alex, this is your dad, Evan Buckley." There was a pregnant pause in the aisle, then Alex did the unexpected. She ran to Evan and gave him an air-stopping hug. Buck was swift to return the hug with Alex. I could tell him, and I was both getting emotional.

"It's great to meet you. Don't worry, mom told me the whole story. I know it wasn't your fault, but we have a lot of catching up to do." I looked around the aisle to stop myself from crying. I saw Eddie, who was kind of forgotten until now, but he had the sweetest smile on his face. I felt something inside me start to flutter. I could tell I'm in for a long ride.

[fallenrepublick]

Oof I love suffering I guess so how do you think the zabrak brothers (including Riot, Brutus, and Sunder) would react to having an s/o who is chronically ill and their health is in decline?

I’ve had some long stays in the hospital and I find you can learn a lot about someone when they have to take care of you in those moments.

Thank you for sharing your writing!! I love your blog! Hope you’re having a good week!

Ohhh I see. Well... This is a horribly painful concept, especially if it's particularly serious. And of course I'm going to do that.

Get some tissues

Maul remains strong. He's dutiful, attentive. It's all he can be. It's not combat, there's no danger to protect you from. He can do nothing. And though he's there, watching over you, holding your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles with a silent will not to cry at the sight of you, there's resentment. Not at you, never at you. At himself. At this sickness, at his helplessness. He had promised to always look after you, had sworn up and down that he would ensure nothing happened to you. But he wasn't prepared for this. How could he be? There was no way to prepare, the thought had never crossed his mind.

And yet it dawns on him, should something go wrong, should everything take a turn for the worse, he could lose you. He could come in the medbay to the very thing he fears the most. Even if you look well enough now, how could he be sure? What if it doesn't stay that way? He doesn't want his arms to be left empty, his ear devoid of your voice, the only thing that had ever brought him comfort in life. He can't bear the thought of being left with nothing, not again, not this time, please.

He doesn't leave, he refuses to. He sleeps in the chair beside your bed, hunched over with his head leaning on your mattress. The slightest stir wakes him up, he brings everything to you, brings you to everything that can't be carried. His well being means nothing, nothing, so long as it's for you. Just don't leave him. You promised you wouldn't leave him.

Savage, in that classic way older siblings do, shifts into a responsible mindset. He keeps himself busy, cooking everything and anything he can find that's easy for you to keep down, making sure your room is spotless, keeping up with your medication. He throws himself into his duties as the one you love, promising he'll take care of you. Thoughts of the worst creep into his mind, but at least in the beginning, he pushes them down in favour of keeping you comfortable, keeping you safe.

But pushing down the pain and uncertainties only allows them to fester, to grow and consume his every waking moment. He tries to mask it, tries to stay strong and responsible for you. Still, it becomes easier and easier to see through, and you hold his face, asking what's wrong, what troubles him so often that he's barely slept. Dark circles are painted below his eyes as he stares up at you, and you hold his face, brushing at his cheeks.

And he tells you how he tries not to fear, how he's done everything not to be terrified for what may happen. But it's impossible. You can promise him nothing, nor does he expect you to. Instead, you kiss his forehead. "Whatever happens... it'll be okay."

Feral isn't as good at hiding. He sees you in this state, and while he tries to push down everything, he chokes, and the tears start falling immediately. He doesn't know why. Nothing's for certain. Why does he have to be so weak? So useless? His job is to keep your spirits up, to help you, not fall apart like a coward right in front of you. And yet he's already failed.

His head often rests gently on your torso, feeling you breathe as he trembles, reminding himself that nothing is set in stone. You'll be okay. You'll be okay. That isn't set in stone either, but he has to fool himself. If only for now.

He checks in with you thoroughly and often. There are pangs that strike through his chest when you turn down food more and more often, tension in his hearts like he's never known when the only thing you ever seem to do is sleep. No. You're healing. That's what it is. Sometimes, he'll lay on the bed next to you, holding you to his chest as if it's the last chance he'll get to do so.

You're healing. You're healing.

But Sunder backtracks, just a bit. Perfection. Swallow his feelings, if only for now, do what he was born to do: Protect his mate. What he feels about this doesn't matter. Only you. Do everything you ask of him, bring you comfort when there's little other source. His kisses are often on your forehead, ignoring the fact that he can do nothing in reality. It's cosmetic, all of it. His help is but the tiniest change, practically useless. But he has to.

He forgets often that he himself has to eat, has to sleep. All he can think of is you. You, who's given him so much. Who's taught him about the world. His saviour, his guide from a life he had always thought was the end. He owes you his life. And yet he can't give it. Not like this.

When you sleep, when your slow breaths seem just a bit too slow for it to be right, he holds your hand, he makes wishes, ones impossible to grant. "I would trade my life..." he says tightly, shaking, "I would give everything... Please... Please... Take me instead... I'll do anything..."

Riot tries and tries to lighten your mood when he can. He cares for you as he very well should, yet through it all, there's that classic goofy grin on his face. He can make you laugh, always, even in the worst of times, and he uses it every moment he's in your presence. As long as you're smiling, he can tell himself it'll be fine.

But the smile falters every so slightly sometimes. He doesn't want to hide, doesn't want to wear the mask in front of you like this, yet he can't bring himself to take it off either. He has to see you smile. If you smile, it'll be okay.

He's instructed himself not to break down, not even when others ask how he feels, not even when they offer to help. Even in moments where he's alone, cooking, bringing you your daily medications. Even when you're asleep and he's brushing at the skin of your arms. Even though he's tearing himself apart inside, thinking about how stupid he is, how he could do more, how he's not trying hard enough. No, he has to be fine. So long as you smile, so long as you know he loves you. He will be fine.

Brutus doesn't react for much of it. If anything, he goes about helping you as if it were always the routine. He's got the schedule memorized, trying with hidden desperation to bring a sense of normalcy. But his words carry less bite. Where he once would've said, "Gods, what the hell do you think you're doing, huh Firefly?" he now says, "What are you doing?" It's flatter, his voice softer, and his eyes watch you as if he realizes something, yet you can't quite pin down what it is.

He sits at the side of your bed, listening to you speak, holding your hand in silence, lifted a bit and rubbing at your fingers. You still smile at him, and he can't bring himself to return it. He doesn't scowl anymore, his face brought more to a neutral state, and it remains there no matter the task. Simple conversation, helping you eat if you're particularly weak, lulling you to sleep. His face never changes. He's gone from an open book (at least to you), to completely unreadable.

But it's when you're asleep in the late hours of the night that it unravels. He sits on the floor of the hallway, knees pulled up to his chest, fingers gripping into his head, leaving marks from his nails, and he cries. It's audible, sobbing, his voice bright in the dark, empty hall. The tears are hot on his cheeks, falling to the floor, onto his clothes. He can't stop them. He won't. Because the sound doesn't pass into your room. He thinks you don't know.

But when you see him each morning, it occurs to you that there's only one thing that can leave those kinds of bruises.

[wave0fg00dvibes]

You’re my Home - Spencer Reid x Reader

Murders, betrayal, violence, and corpses. Or, in other words, a typical day at work for Dr. Spencer Reid.

He felt the overwhelming exhaustion of the day start to catch up to him as he climbed the concrete steps to the house. His messenger bag somehow seemed heavier than usual as his limbs began to give in to the stress the day had brought. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, making sure to lock it behind him and reset the alarm system.

The little house was silent. Not eerily so, but peacefully. Spencer closed his eyes, took a deep comforting breath, and smiled. He was home.

Home was the place where he didn’t have to worry about bodies dropping left and right. There was no one to pressure him to work harder or move faster. No profiling, combat, negotiation, or death. His only worries in this house involved toddler meltdowns and diaper changes, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Spencer walked past the living room to the hallway, noticing the many toys and books scattered about. Dirty dishes sat in the sink, and daily crafts were scattered across the kitchen table, long forgotten. He smiled to himself. He could only imagine what destruction your smart, chaotic, beautiful children had caused today.

He slowly made his way down the hall, arriving at the first door and quietly pushing it open. The princess night light cast a pink glow around the room, illuminating the face of his daughter, sleeping soundly.

She was turning 5 soon. Where had the time gone?

He seemingly blinked and Ava had transformed from a fussy baby into a tiny, wildly intelligent human that understood his racing thoughts. Though so very little, she was already discovering the wonders of books and knowledge, and striving to learn all she could get her hands on. He knew from the moment she was born they had a special bond. She is one of the only people who truly understands his mind, because she shares it.

He slowly crept into her room, sitting on her bed gently, as not to wake her. He attempted to subtly kiss her forehead, but she stirred and sleepily opened her eyes, taking a moment to process what was happening.

“Daddy?” She whispered. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi baby. I’m here.”

The excitement in her face was quickly replaced by her small body’s urge to fall asleep again.

“I missed you today.” She drowsily muttered.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back.

“Mommy read me Chaucer, but it wasn’t the same without you. It’s okay though. We can read some different subjects together! I want to learn more math, but she doesn’t like reading those to me as much as you do.”

Spencer felt his eyes slightly water. One of his greatest fears was missing these little moments with his children. He wanted nothing more than to read books and learn with Ava all day.

He also knew that you were an incredible mother who would read the entire phone book to Ava if she asked. You weren’t offended at all by Ava’s requests to read with her Dad. You knew their bond was special, and couldn’t be matched.

“I would love to learn some math with you. We can do that tomorrow though, okay?”

She nodded, smiling brightly as her eyes drifted closed again. His heart could hardly take the amount of love he harbored for that smile.

“Goodnight, Ava.” Spencer whispered, attempting to get up. She grabbed his hand before he could stand.

“Daddy, will you please stay just a little bit longer?”

She had him wrapped around her tiny finger.

“Of course I will.”

He held her hand and smoothed her hair back as she slowly but surely fell back into a deep sleep. Spencer pressed a kiss to her forehead, slowly put her hand back, and tip toed out of her room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Next, he made his way to the nursery.

He crept down the hall and into the baby’s room with ease. Ever so quietly, he leaned over the crib to observe the little boy, sound asleep.

Grayson had just turned 6 months old. It seemed like every time he got home from work his son had grown another inch.

Spencer didn’t want to wake him. Lord knows you had enough on your plate with the little sleep you got. He didn’t want to add to that stress. So, he simply watched Grayson’s tiny, adorable body squirm in his sleep.

It seemed like just yesterday he heard Ava’s first cry. How could time be flying by this quickly?

“Goodnight, Grayson.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead.

As he turned to leave the nursery, an intense feeling of guilt overwhelmed him. Lately, he was so caught up at the bureau that he barely saw his children in the daylight. He wasn’t able to read with Ava, hold Grayson, or spend any time with you, his wife, his life partner.

Spencer would rather die than abandon his family the way his father abandoned him. He couldn’t bear the thought of his babies not knowing him, not trusting him, never knowing how much he would give up for them. He felt his mind begin to spiral. So, as with many other intrusive thoughts, he pushed it away. He could deal with those feelings another time. Right now, he needed to sleep.

He stepped quietly into your bedroom, noticing that you left his lamp on for him. He smiled softly, heavy heart lifting a bit at the thought of you waiting up for him. He quickly put on his night clothes and padded to the bed.

Your shoulders rose and fell with every relaxed breath. Though you were facing away from him, he could tell you were wearing his favorite t-shirt. He smiled again and gently pulled back the covers.

You were pulled from your sleep as you felt your husband slide into the bed beside you. You sleepily, yet excitedly turned your body to face him, smiling and reaching your arms out to hold him.

Spencer surprised you. He gently cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, longingly, passionately.

It must’ve been a really tough day at the BAU.

When he pulled back, his hands didn’t leave your face and you pressed your forehead to his.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You gently asked.

“No.” He stated. Kind, but firm.

You nodded. He would tell you later, when he was ready. He always did.

“Did you say goodnight to the babies?”

“Of course. Always.” You could hear the drowsiness in his voice as you felt the tension in his muscles begin to relax, but there was still something bothering him.

“Hey, what’s up?” You gently prodded, running a hand through his hair. He let out a deep sigh.

“It’s really nothing. I promise.”

You looked him straight in the eye. Your glance saying more to him than your words ever could.

Don’t shut me out, Spencer. I’m here.

He averted his gaze, but you brought your hand to his face, turning it to meet your eyes again. He could see the concern blooming, and was reminded how little he could hide from you. His partner. His person.

He couldn’t help the flurry of loving thoughts running through his mind as his eyes responded.

You are so beautiful.

You smiled. You knew he meant it, but there was something more. However, the bags under his eyes suggested it could be a conversation for another time.

You leaned in and pressed a light, lingering kiss to his lips.

He smiled back at you, thankful for your understanding. He turned his bedside lamp off and promptly pulled you as close to him as possible, limbs intertwining, hearts finally whole again.

You laid like that for a solid couple of minutes before his racing mind couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you think they will resent me for not being around?”

You slowly opened your eyes and pulled back to look him in the eye, not having the faintest idea where he was going with this.

“What?”

Spencer sat up in bed and turned the light on again. He took a deep breath, and all at once you knew what was coming.

“Did you know that children who grow up without a father figure in the house are two times more likely to drop out of high school?”

“Spencer…” You attempted to reach for him, but he was too focused now.

“Or… or what about the fact that they are more likely to have behavioral problems? Or that they are 279% more likely to carry guns and deal drugs than their peers? That’s a HUGE margin!”

“But Spence…” You sat up to face him, knowing this needed to run its course before you could help him. You softly rubbed his back as he continued.

“Children who have father involvement are far less likely to cause trouble. They get better grades in school, have better social skills, have a far greater emotional wellbeing, are less likely to succumb to obesity… the list is endless! And… and boys with absent fathers are more likely to become absent fathers themselves. What if Ava isn’t succeeding as much as she could because I’m not around? And what if I’m scarring Grayson’s idea of a father? And now the pressure of raising our children is all on you and I’m so afraid you’re going to start resenting me and I just…”

“Spencer. Hey.” You turned his head to face you, finally seeing the tears threatening to spill over.

Your heart fractured. How could he not know how much his family loved him? How could he doubt the utter adoration the three of you shared for him?

Your eyes welled up as you realized that this is what his job does to him. He sees violence, destruction, and betrayal every single day. He sees families turn on each other and split apart because of tragedies. He works relentlessly because if he doesn’t, people die.

Of course he questions every aspect of his life.

Words could never convey the magnitude of the love you shared. They couldn’t pull him out of this hole in his mind he had been painstakingly digging. So, you listened to your heart when it told you to kiss him so hard that he forgets why he was ever worried.

You grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his, slowly, but firmly. He responded immediately, but with reservation. A few tears tracked down his face as his arms tensed, holding onto you ever so tightly. You kissed him harder, hands trailing from his neck to the back of his head to get lost in his hair. He followed your lead, reserves fading, walls coming down. Slowly, his hands snaked under your shirt to trace shapes on your back. You smiled into the kiss and felt him do the same.

Before you knew it, his hands were begging you to come closer to him. You swung a leg over his so you were straddling him, holding his face again as his arms enveloped you with full force. He kissed you with the fiery passion you knew he held. He held you as if the universe were going to take you away any second. He showed you just how much he loved you with every frenzied movement, every soft touch, and every crash of your lips.

Impossibly close could never be close enough. Not for two souls intertwined, like yours.

You pulled away and pressed your forehead to his, breathing heavily. His breath matched yours as you both sat there, holding each other, waiting for the world around you to reappear.

When it finally did, you met his eyes again. Hoping to see the unique spark that only your husband possessed.

“I love you, Spencer Reid.”

“I love you too.” He smiled lovingly up at you, and there it was. His spark. Your heart leapt for joy.

“Forever and ever, ‘til death do us part. Right?”

He nodded, breaking your gaze to wipe away stray tears with the back of his hand. You wiped away the rest with your thumbs, softly stroking his face.

“You are a fantastic husband and father. You hear me?” You meant it with your whole heart, but his eyes questioned you.

Yeah?

Yeah. I promise.

He smiled and let out a sigh of complete relief, pulling your body even closer and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You held him, so unbelievably content to give your husband the security he craved. You pressed kisses into his hair as you rubbed his back, feeling him start to relax. He pulled away to look at you, with all the love in the world in his eyes. You smiled back, feeling your heart flip the same way it did the first time you met.

You reached over to turn the lamp off once more, and then settled comfortably into Spencer’s arms. His whole body relaxed as soon as you laid your hand on his chest.

There was so much more to say. So many things he needed to know, to absorb, to be sure of. So much love he needed to take with him to the job that tore him apart. But he was exhausted, and that could all wait until the morning. You snuggled into his chest and felt his arms grow tighter around you.

Just before you were about to fall asleep, you remembered something you knew would ease his troubled mind.

“You know what Ava told me today?”

“Hmm?” He answered, clearly also close to sleep.

“She said she wanted to wait to put the quadratic formula into practice until you got home.”

He let out a joyful laugh, and you joined, holding him tighter.

“Really? She did?”

“Yeah, she did. She loves you. More than anything.”

Nothing could match his smile at that moment. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before letting his head fall back to the pillow.

“I love you.” You heard him whisper.

“We love you too, Spencer. So much.”

You snuggled impossibly closer, and with that you both slipped into a deep, relaxing sleep.

----

A/N: Here we go again, friends. How have I not seen Criminal Mind’s until this quarantine?!? My disguised blessing of Coronavirus. Anyway, thank you for reading, as always. Feel free to comment/critique/roast here or on my AO3 – wave0fg00dvibes. I love feedback! I have some more Reid stuff in the works… let me know if there’s anything specific y’all want to read! Love always. <3

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X13

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Oh my gosh! Wow! There’s so much to say about this episode. I'm so glad that Meredith woke up and appears to be on the mend. As much as I loved the beach, I am ready for Meredith to rejoin society and the land of the living and get back to doing what she does best! I'm glad that Meredith got closure and that we as fans got closure too not just with Derek but with George as well. The beach wedding scene was perfect and the dialogue throughout was great.

I laughed out loud multiple times and Meredith and Derek’s scenes were both funny and bittersweet. I particularly liked Meredith and Derek's lines about how Meredith hates weddings, but Ellis hates the Post It Note story and wishes they had a big wedding. That she would give her that big wedding if she could. I felt like she was also saying she would give Derek that big wedding if she could. I also loved their conversation about Amelia. Derek told her what she needed to hear. Sometimes losing someone close to you at a young age makes you stronger and sometimes it turns you into Amelia.

Amelia has grown so much, but she spent most of her life a mentally unstable drug and alcohol addicted mess spiralling out of control in large part because she witnessed the brutal murder of her father at the age of five. And that’s not to say that Derek wasn’t just as screwed up by what happened to their Dad. He like Amelia became a neurosurgeon always chasing the high. He stayed in a loveless marriage he hated and when Addison cheated on him with Mark he moved to Seattle where he pretended to be single and pursued a relationship with Meredith.

Even after he and Meredith got together, he lied and cheated and repeated that pattern over and over again. First with Nurse Rose and then with Renee his research fellow in D.C. Derek could be selfish, cruel, hypocritical, and jealous. While Amelia’s scars and trauma were more obvious and blatant Derek was just as affected as she was it just showed up differently. Derek makes it clear he does not want that for Zola, Bailey, and Ellis and after talking to him Meredith realizes that she doesn’t either.

I loved seeing Meredith talk about how well Amelia is doing and Derek saying, “I know!” From the moment Derek on the beach I had a feeling they were going to talk about Amelia and the kids and all of that and I’m glad they did. One of my favourite moments of the episode was when Meredith told Derek that Ellis hates the Post It Note story and wishes they had a big wedding and Derek said, "She gets that from my mother!" I loved that they showed Ellis’ drawing on the fridge when Maggie is talking to Winston on the phone.

I love that Meredith and Derek got their beach wedding like Derek talked about in Season 5 when he made Meredith a bed in front of the fireplace. She went from never wanting to get married to marrying Derek on a Post It Note, getting legally married at the court house so that they could adopt Zola, and then marrying him on the beach in her COVID dream and giving Derek and Ellis the big wedding he always wanted and the one Ellis dreams of. So beautiful. I’m glad that they got closure and that Meredith decided to go back and that she knows Derek will be waiting for her when she’s ready, when it’s her time. When she’s old and senile and smelly just like they promised.

But now is not that time. She has kids to raise. Patients to treat. Sisters, friends, and family that need her. And a certain Irish doctor who would very much like to take her for a drink once she’s feeling better. I loved that Meredith realized through talking to Derek that even though her body was tired her soul was still fighting and that she needed to go back to her life. I loved her scene with Zola when she woke up and said, "We love you so much," meaning both her and Derek. That Mommy and Daddy love her so much and that’s why Meredith came back. She gave up on an afterlife with Derek to be with her children, friends, and family in the real world. That was so beautiful.

I loved Maggie's talk with Zola. I love that she took what Catherine gave her about screaming out your feelings and used it to help Zola who has been through so much express her emotions in a healthy way. I really felt Zola's heartbreak and how much she missed her Mom and Dad. I'm glad that Maggie decided to take Zola to visit Meredith. It was risky, but it paid off. The set department did a great job with Zola’s room. When she’s sitting on her bed crying you can see the photo of Meredith and Derek holding her at her first birthday party. You can also see a sock monkey that she had at the dream house.

The slop of the roof indicates that her room is in the attic. At last we saw it Lexie was living in there and Mark was visiting her while they were sneaking around, and it was an unfinished space with wood panelling. It appears that since that time as her family expanded Meredith had the attic finished and turned into a proper bedroom for Zola. We don’t know how big the attic is so it’s possible that there are more rooms up there or that there are more rooms upstairs than what we’ve seen.

I'm glad that Derek was there for Meredith in her time of need and helped her find the will to fight even though she was exhausted. I'm interested to see what's next for Meredith. If we'll see her being discharged in the coming weeks or if they will do a time jump. Will we see her at home with the kids first or back at work? Will her and Hayes finally have that drink? If so, how soon? I want to know more! I’m excited to see Maggie tell her about her engagement to Winston and see her meet Winston properly and get to know him. I’m also excited for what I’m sure will be an emotional scene when she thanks Amelia and Link for taking care of her kids while she’s been sick.

I’m also expecting some very emotional scenes with Richard and Bailey. I’m interested to see how they will address DeLuca’s death. I’d also like to see Jackson’s reaction when he returns from his most recent quest and finds out that Meredith has woken up and is doing better. I’d also like to see someone notify Cristina, Alex, Arizona, Callie, and April that Meredith is doing better. I can’t wait to see Hayes’ reaction to finding out that Meredith is on the mend! My heart!

Now let us turn our attention to the other shenanigans that were going on at Grey Sloan Memorial this week while Meredith was busying getting closure with Derek and waking up. We saw Teddy back at work trying her best to move forward. I was glad to see that she found a therapist that works for her even though it has to be virtual due to the pandemic. I'm glad that Owen was there for her. She really needs a friend right now and as Owen said previously, he's well placed to be that person. I like that he backed her up, but also pointed out that she would be destroyed if something went wrong with Meredith. That lead to her paging Winston to scrub in with her which I think was the right call.  

I think Owen did the right thing by rejecting her kiss but choosing to stay with her and let her cry and breakdown. She needs the support right now and while I’m not usually an Owen fan I think he did a good job supporting her this episode. I also really felt for him when he lost a patient he thought they were going to be able to discharge and struggled to tell the family. As he says to Teddy, they did this all the time during the way, but this is different. They are losing patients on a level that they’ve never experienced before, and they can’t even take a moment to catch their breath because they have more patients to treat and pronounce.

My heart breaks for the real life doctors and nurses who are dealing with stuff on a daily basis. It’s so hard. On a lighter note, I really loved Amelia and Link's patient storyline this week. It was funny and interesting, and it was great to see Amelia back in the OR. While it was wrong of Amelia to steal Link’s patient and I think she did overstep I understand why she was so eager to get back into the OR and she was right about what was wrong with the guy.

I understood Link’s anger and frustration, but I also appreciated that he understood Amelia and was there to support her and build her up. I like that he brought in Tom and had him on standby, but also showed complete confidence in Amelia. His line about how Amelia always likes to raise the stakes was hilarious and accurate. Another scene I loved was when Amelia and Link were leaving the hospital and Link thought she was using sexual innuendo and then she clarified that she needed to get home because her boobs felt like they were going to burst, and she needed to either pump or breastfeed. That one cracked me up!

We also saw some amazing acting by Caterina Scorsone when upon arriving home and finding Link’s parents looking after Bailey and Ellis, they rushed to the hospital thinking something was wrong with Meredith. Amelia was riding high from the surgery that day and when she thought Meredith had gotten worse, she panicked only to realize that Meredith’s condition hadn’t changed. Her sobbing and desperation as she said over and over again that she really needed Meredith to live were gut wrenching. Caterina did an amazing job.

I also really liked Bailey and Levi’s patient storyline. The peanut butter brittle woman who took up roller skating was the best! She was funny and helped Bailey see that you need to rest and also follow your joy. The scenes where the woman gave Levi the brittle and then he was smelling it made me laugh! As a result of treating that patient Bailey decided to reverse her earlier decision and let Jo switch specialities. While I’m not on board with that storyline I'm glad that Bailey decided to support Jo in following her joy. Making someone stay in a role they don't like will only make them resent you and make everyone involved unhappy.

That being said, I hate this career switching storyline. It’s so dumb. I've realized with this episode that my opinion on this storyline isn't ever going to change. If they use it as a segue for Jo adopting Luna that could be interesting, but watching Jo leave general surgery behind and re-specialize in OBGYN so she can stand on the sidelines while all the other characters do ground breaking work and cool procedures just seems dumb to me. I am not invested in this storyline at all.

Levi and Jo have great comedic timing which was on full display in this episode. Jackson was MIA this episode because he went roaring off on another one of his quests leaving the person he’s dating in the lurch and telling them about it after the fact. He took a leave of absence from work and then left Maggie a voicemail back in Season 15 telling her he needed some time to think and then went camping in the woods to look at trees which lead to him talking to April and texting a woman he met on this trip behind Maggie’s back. He then left her in the fog on a dark road in an area with bears at the end of Season 15.

Now he’s left Jo to go on an unknown quest that’s 11 hours away. When did Jackson become the guy that just vanishes at random to go do whatever the heck he wants? I was surprised that Nico asked Levi to move in with him at the end of the episode. That was not at all the answer that Levi was expecting so I understand why he ran off and said he promised Jo he'd do a movie night with her. Levi wanted to move in with Nico last season and Nico didn't want that, but instead of just saying that outright he dodged the topic and was a real jerk about it. That resulted in them breaking up and Levi moving in with Jo.

They only got back together because of the pandemic and in the intervening time Levi has grown as a person and no longer wants that kind of a relationship with Nico. When he told him that him leaving his bathroom bag at his place didn't mean he was going to move in with him he was being sincere. He just didn't want to have to keep carting his toothbrush back and forth all the time. In response Nico realized he's always running away from what scares him and pushing people away when they get too close and he wants to fix that, so he asked Levi to move in with him.

Therein lies their problem. They're never on the same page. When Levi wanted to move forward and take that next step Nico didn't want to. Now that Nico wants to move forward and take the next step Levi is no longer interested. What a dilemma. I also noticed that Jo and Levi had very similar outfits at the beginning of this episode. You know you’re becoming good friends with someone when you start unconsciously matching outfits.

Onto the next episode’s promo! We see Jackson driving in the rain, showing up on someone’s doorstep talking to himself about how his appearance might seem impulsive, but he has thought it through. The door opens to reveal April who is holding Harriet in between clips of his and April’s relationship. I have a few theories about this. First off, I think they are faking us out. If there was trouble in paradise and things weren’t going well with April and Matthew, they wouldn’t have had Jackson make a comment in the first half of the season about how Matthew is spending more time with Harriet then he and April are because they are taking more COVID shifts.

April is a deeply religious Christian woman whose faith is really important to her. She was vehemently opposed to getting a divorce even though her relationship with Jackson was clearly over because of her faith. Marriage is not something she takes lightly so I have a hard time seeing her divorce Matthew out of the blue because Jackson shows back up and is in crisis when her and Matthew have been together for the past three seasons and have been married for two.

Also, they are raising two children together and co-parenting one of those kids with Jackson. A lot of court services were shut down in the first few months of the pandemic for safety reasons which made it difficult to get a divorce and this episode takes place in June of 2020. So even if April and Matthew split up they couldn’t legally get a divorce very easily at this time and if April and Jackson got back together they would still have to interact with Matthew on a regular basis because they are co-parenting kids together and there’s no way that April would walk away from Ruby.

The only way I could see April and Jackson getting back together is if Matthew has died or fallen ill somehow. Otherwise I just don’t see it. I think they’re faking us out. I think the clips in the promo are there to entice japril fans and play into that because logistically I don’t see how a storyline in which April and Matthew suddenly divorce and April and Jackson get back together in one episode is possible.

Until next time!

[yandere-daydreams]

OH MY GOD THEYRE OPENED! Um, can I get something with Kenma with a darling who he considers as “troubled” or “needs help” and how he deals with that?

This is an idea I’ve been playing with, for a while. Kenma’s just so soft, he’d barely be able to train his Darling properly… He still gets the job done, though. Assume this takes place somewhere after the current time-skip.

TW: Emotional Abuse, Sleep Deprivation, and Implied Suicidal Ideation. 

~

This was supposed to teach you a lesson.

That was the part that got to you, the part that hurt. You knew Kenma didn’t think much of you, but every passing minute only cemented the idea that he saw you as a stubborn child in need of instruction, or failing that, a pet who wouldn’t obey his commands. As disorienting, deafening sounds cut through the silence of Kenma’s apartment, whatever game he was playing set to a blaring volume, you couldn’t help but settle into the groove you’d formed in his sofa, resting your head on his thigh. You’d lost track of how long the two of you had been there, Kenma playing the newest survival-release in the same crossed-legged, hunched over position and you laying at his side, squirming uncomfortably whenever his attention strayed from the task at-hand. It must’ve been hours, and it was getting so late…

As soon as your eyes closed, nimble fingers were rooted in your hair, jerking you upward and forcing you to brace yourself on unsupportive cushions. His grip was so tight, so unrelenting, your scalp beginning to ache in a matter of seconds, but your quiet whimpers and murmured excuses did little to satisfy him. Instead, he took to staring, gaze prying through the darkness to better burn into you, only letting up once Kenma had gotten his fill. You could never be sure what he was looking for, but he must’ve found it, letting you go and frowning as he watched you fall back into place. “You’re not allowed to go to sleep,” He explained, bluntly. “Not until you admit you did something wrong.”

“I haven’t done anything,” You spat, not bothering to hide the distaste in your tone. One of you had to be human, and Kenma’d never been very good at it. “I already said I’m sorry, isn’t that enough? If you just told me what you’re mad about--”

“That’s not the point.” He sounded impassive, rational. You wanted to tear his vocal cords out of his stomach and hang yourself with them. “You have to figure it out, or you won’t remember not to do it, next time.”

You sighed, going over the events of that day, as you had countless times already. You’d woken up before Kenma, and started making breakfast while he slept in. You two had talked about nothing in particular, and then he’d left for an interview and you’d began your self-imposed daily chore list. It was a way to drive away the boredom, Kenma’s tablets, consoles and laptops all locked with a passcode you couldn’t seem to guess and books only providing so much entertainment, when you had more than enough time to spare. You’d cleaned, dusting and sweeping and sanitizing until the apartment was as spotless as it’d been before you started, and took a nap before Kenma got home. He was already mad, by then.

You didn’t like thinking about your life, too often. Captivity made everything dull, repetitive, and the tracking chip embedded in your ankle could only keep you on-edge for so long. Most days, you tried to focus on what you’d do when you got away for Kenma. When you found a savings account he hadn’t drained or a friend who wasn’t turned against you, and you finally got to do something without his permission. But, that wasn’t going to happen today and thoughts so hopeful wouldn’t do anything to get you out of tonight. You were too tired to come up with anything new, honestly.

“I don’t know,” You admitted, shrugging half-heartedly. “I just… I don’t know.”

He blinked once, twice, but he didn’t pause his game. “We’ve got time.”

His character snuck up behind one of his blandly designed opponents, the third-person perspective focusing in on both men as one drew a knife across the other’s neck, ending his life in an anti-climatic act of meaningless violence. You couldn’t help but wish Kenma would do the same to you.

You’d woken up an hour before noon, thirty minutes before Kema’s alarm went off. You didn’t bother changing before making breakfast, just brushing your hair and washing your face. You couldn’t remember what you made, something with eggs and bell-peppers, but Kenma liked the recipe. You were happy he did, even if you cursed yourself for it. He said he had an interview for Bouncing Ball that he was going to be late for, but still clung to your side and sulked until you kissed him goodbye. You’d dusted, then you swept, then you sat by one of his windows and stared down at the street until your legs went numb. You remembered your old job, the one you’d been eager to leave when Kenma offered to support you, and you cried for a few minutes. You tried to sleep, but gave up when Kenma burst in to tell you how ungrateful you were.

Did he use the word ungrateful? He might’ve said selfish. That sounded like something he would say.

“Baby,” You whined, picking yourself up. You were so exhausted, it was all you could do not to collapse back into a confused, resentful heap. Still, you drapped yourself gingerly over his shoulders, clinging to a bent arm and nuzzling into his back. You didn’t care what you were pressing against, as long as it got his attention. “I’m bored, Kozume, I’m tired. C’mon, let’s go to bed. We can cuddle, if you want. Don’t you want to cuddle?”

Your display earned a glance from the corner of his eye, a slight shift to let you better slot yourself against him. But, if he was sympathetic, he wasn’t going to admit it. Suddenly, you were aware of just how loud the clicks and snaps from his controller were, how desperately you wanted to smash the thing to bits. “I want you to behave. I don’t care if it takes all night, neither of us are going anywhere until you stop being such a brat.”

You could’ve sobbed. You’d woken an hour before noon. Kenma was next to you, slotted against your back, and you waited for him to roll over before getting up. You thought about changing into street-clothes, but abandoned the idea as soon as you made it back to your closet, just putting on something you’d never leave the house in and making breakfast. Kenma told you about a conversation he’d had with Shoyo and asked if you wanted to go to a match being held nearby, and you pretended you hadn’t heard him. He’d been happy, with that, and changed the topic. When he was getting ready to leave, he threatened to lock you in the supply closet again if you didn’t kiss, laughing like he still believed it was a joke. You kissed him. You dusted the living room, cleaned every surface of the kitchen and polished whatever you could polish, before sitting by the window and crying your eyes out. You got up, after that, passing the front door on your way to the bedroom, and tried to handle to see if it was--

Oh. Right.

You tried the handle.

You almost smiled, melting into Kenma’s sleeve. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, squeezing his arm affectionately. “I shouldn’ve tried to open the front door. It… It wasn’t nice to make you worry.” You paused, more for yourself than for him. You felt him relax, finally pausing that awful, awful game, but you didn’t stop. “I’m not going to leave you, I promise.”

Slowly, he turned towards you, cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead gently, lowering you down onto the plush surface before standing up. You closed your eyes and curled into yourself as he switched off the over-sized monitor, casting the room in blissful, merciful darkness. You didn’t bother trying to go to bed, just listening as Kenma’s footsteps faded into the distance, silently thanking whoever could hear you when those finally stopped, too.

You’d need as much rest as you could get, before he decided it was time for your next lesson.

[petersasteria]

Free - Harry Holland

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Requested? Nah

Harry Holland Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist

Harry and the reader are both 23 x

* * * *

Seven years. You've been dating Harry for seven years and you were now engaged. When you first started dating when you were sixteen and both of you honestly didn't know that you'd last for so long. Now, here you were seven years later; still together and engaged for six months. You loved Harry so much and you knew that he was the one for you. Everyone said that you were a great pair because both of you loved working behind the camera. He was the director and you were the editor. It was perfect.

All good things eventually come to an end, though.

You didn't know when things started to change and you certainly didn't know that things were changing up until Sam told you that he was starting to notice something different about Harry. Of course, you decided to observe Harry. You thought it was ridiculous, but the more you observed, the more Sam was right.

Harry was shooting his newest short film and you noticed that he was starting to get close with the lead actress. You noticed that his smile was brighter around her. He laughed more, he was relaxed, he was carefree, he looked contented. If you weren't dating Harry, everyone would think that Sarah, the other girl, and Harry were dating.

You noticed that Harry was slowly starting to drift away from you. He talked to you less and less. He comes home late and when he's at home, the whole house was quiet. He wasn't present in wedding planning anymore and eventually, he didn't suggest anything anymore; leaving all the planning to you.

Everything started to feel different now. You began to realize that you and Harry weren't perfect for each other after all. As he started to drift away, you didn't put up a fight anymore. Maybe you should've fought for him, but you knew him. You knew him so well that you knew even if you did fight for him, he'd still choose the other girl. It didn't take long for you to find your own place.

You found a small apartment that was just right for one person and you immediately bought it. Whenever Harry wasn't home, you were packing up some of your things and moving it to your new apartment. You started buying new furniture for your new place and there was one weekend where you slept there. As much as you hated to admit it, you sort of liked it.

On Harry's end, he felt guilty for neglecting you. But, we can't help what we feel. He used to love spending time with you and he used to love the daily routine you two shared. Now, it felt like he was moving around because of muscle memory. Sarah was different. She made him feel things. He wasn't numb unlike whenever he's with you.

Harry didn't go on dates with Sarah. He didn't give her a lift in his car and he certainly never went to her apartment. Despite all the things he never did, he still felt like he was cheating on you whenever he spoke to her about her lines or when he would smile at her as he watched her behind the camera.

Sam frowned whenever he'd see it because he saw Harry decline your phone calls and eventually put his phone on silent. Sam watched as Harry texted you his suggestions for your wedding until he started removing the wedding related tabs on Safari. Sam knew that he had to tell you what was going on because he was starting to see that Sarah felt something for Harry.

One night, everything finally came out. You just got home from your new apartment and Harry was on the phone in the living room. You couldn't take it anymore. Harry couldn't take it anymore too. He was texting Sam about how to tell you that he didn't love you anymore and Sam just said: man up and tell her straight to her face. You owe her that.

You entered the living room and cleared your throat. Harry looked up from his phone and said, "I have something to tell you."

"I have something to tell you too." You said and sat next to him on the couch. You made sure there was distance between the two of you and you didn't know where to begin.

"You go first." You said. Harry nodded. He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, "I don't love you anymore."

You looked at him and nodded, "Yeah, I figured. Everything hasn't been in place lately and Sam told me that things were starting to be different. He was right. It's Sarah, isn't it?"

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." Harry turned to you and frowned. "I'm really sorry."

"I have so many questions and I have so many things to say and I don't know where to begin. I lay awake in bed every night just thinking, 'how did things go wrong?'. I honestly didn't know we were falling apart until Sam told me." You cried.

"And to think we were going to get married. I imagine our sad marriage and we probably won't have kids because you don't love me enough to make love to me. When did things change, Harry? When did you stop looking at me like I was the only girl in the world? When did you replace me? When did she take over your heart like I used to?"

"I don't know." Harry sighed.

"I used to be more than enough for you and when did you realize that I wasn't enough anymore? Why didn't you tell me immediately so that you'd never come home to a disappointment such as myself?"

"Hey, don't talk like that." Harry shook his head. "You're not a disappointment. You're more than enough. Not loving you doesn't make your worth any less, alright? Y/N, you're such a huge part of my life. You've been in it for years and we've been together since we were sixteen. Y/N, you're a constant in my life that I'm not willing to let go. I care about you and I need you-"

"But you don't love me." You interrupted.

Harry sighed.

"Can you just tell me where I went wrong so that I know? I don't want to make a mistake for the next guy, so just tell me what I can improve on." You said.

"There's nothing to improve because you're amazing. You're an amazing person to be with and any guy would be luck to have you. I'm lucky."

"Was."

"What?"

"We're done now. So, you're supposed to say, 'I was lucky'." You explained.

Harry didn't bother to correct himself. Whether or not you decided to break up, he wanted you in his life. He couldn't imagine living a life without you and he will forever be lucky to have you in his life.

"You did everything to make me happy and I'm forever grateful for that." Harry said sincerely.

"I'm just so mad at myself that I didn't notice it early on. I feel so stupid. But now I know. I know that whenever you're with me, you're yearning for her. Whenever you hug me, you're thinking of her. All of those are painful, but what hurts the most is that you loved me first and you loved her last and you will love her for the rest of your life." You were sobbing which made Harry cry. He hated hurting you, but it was too late now. The damage was done.

"I know how much she makes you happy, so I won't force myself to stay with you thinking that everything will work out in the end. Look at us right now. Nothing worked out. We're damaged. When did you stop telling the truth?"

"What do you mean?"

"When did you stop saying 'I love you' and meaning it?" You sniffed.

"I don't know." Harry was heartbroken that you were feeling so crestfallen.

"Then why didn't you tell me that you loved someone else?"

Harry stayed quiet. He didn't know the answer to that either.

You wiped your tears, "I feel so stupid for thinking that this would never end." You chuckled humorlessly. You got up from the couch, removed your engagement ring and put it on the coffee table.

"I'm leaving." You said and went upstairs to pack the last of your clothes. You went down with two suitcases and went back to Harry who had his head in his hands.

"I wish you all the best, Holland. I really do. I hope she takes care of you and I hope she never makes you cry. I see it in your eyes, y'know? The eyes, they never lie. The look you give her is more than enough for me to stop fighting. I understand and I don't resent you for it. After all, if you're happy with her, why would I force myself to someone who's not meant for me? Fate is hard to fight with and I surrender." You cried once more. Harry couldn't look at you. He was hurt too.

"All I wanted to do was love you and I don't get to do that anymore. That's someone else's job now. Please don't contact me anymore. It hurts to be with you in the same room and speaking to you is like death. Goodbye, Harry. Thank you for the years we spent as friends that started when we were kids and I especially thank you for being my lover for seven years. It was fun while it lasted." You said and walked out of the house that used to be your home.

Harry looked up when he heard the front door closed and he looked out the window to see you drive off. He hated himself.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way." Harry whispered to himself as he watched your car turn to a corner and never see it again.

"Hey, Sam?" You tried not to breakdown as soon as he answered. You were driving to your apartment and you needed someone to vent to.

"What's up, Y/N? How're you and Harry?" Sam asked nicely.

You chuckled pathetically as tears streamed down your face, "There'll be no wedding, Sam. I'm calling it off tomorrow."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, Y/N." Sam said sadly. He was really rooting for both of you.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." You sniffed. "Things will be fine."

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑...

Things turned out fine for you. At first, you didn't know how to function anymore. Eventually, you got the hang of it and everyday you wake up filled with hope that you'll one day find a man who'll love you and only you.

You never spoke to Harry and he didn't contact you. But he would ask Sam how you were doing and Sam wouldn't tell him. He'd just change the topic. Harry meant it when he said he won't stop caring about you and not knowing how you were doing sent his mind into a frenzy. You were his friend before dating and he still saw you as a friend.

Harry's short film was a success and your earlier edits were kept in the film. Harry didn't want your involvement in the film to be completely scrapped. It was the only thing he had of yours and he cherished it.

Sam was hurt that you don't talk to him as often as before, but he understood. Talking to Sam hurts you too and Sam didn't want you hurt. But everyday Sam would think of you and he'd pray for your health and safety.

You were walking back to your office when you bumped into someone. You looked at the person and smiled when you realized it was Sam.

"Y/N!"

"Sam!"

Both of you immediately hugged each other tightly for about a minute before pulling away. He looked at you and smiled when he realized you were okay.

"I'm so happy to see you! You have no idea. I haven't seen you since-"

"Three years ago." You continued and smiled. "We should catch up, but I have to get back to work. My lunch break just ended."

"Of course! Same number, yeah?"

"Yeah." You grinned and kissed his cheek.

"Sam, we need to- Y/N? Is that you?"

You turned and saw Tom. You chuckled and nodded, "I'd be concerned if I'm not Y/N."

"Oh my god, it is you!" Tom grinned and hugged you tightly. "I missed you!"

He pulled away and spun you around to look at you from head to toe. "Wow, you look good! New haircut, new hair color, new clothes-"

"New style." A voice said. It was Harry. All three of you stared at him but he was only looking at you. "I like it. You're constantly changing your style, but this one's my favorite. It suits you and it has 'you' written all over it."

"Thank you." You gave him a small smile. "I'm glad I found the right style for me."

"I'm glad that you're glad. How are you?" Harry asked.

"I'm good, actually. I recently got a promotion, but I don't know if I'll take it."

"What? Why? Tom asked.

"They're asking me to move to L.A." You said shortly. "I can't stand the thought of staying away from home."

"Oh." Was all Tom said.

"Anyway, how are you?" You asked in general, but only Harry answered.

"I'm engaged. Wedding's next month." Harry said. Sam wanted to hit Harry because it sounded so insensitive.

"Congratulations." You smiled genuinely. "Tell her I said, 'hi'."

"What about you, Y/N? Any special someone?" Sam asked.

"Yes, actually. I'll show you a picture." You smiled and opened your phone to show them a picture of you and your one year old son. "This is my son, Harvey. He's my whole world."

"Who's the father?" Tom asked.

"Not present and he won't ever be present. I was drunk one night and one thing led to another. Harvey's a blessing because just when I thought that I have no hope of finding love, he came along. I love him so much." You gushed and smiled at your phone before putting it in your bag.

"I have to get back to work now, alright? Sam, I'll be waiting for your call. It was nice seeing you all again. Bye!" You walked inside the building of the magazine company you work for and the three men continued on with their day.

"Motherhood suits her." Tom said. "Plus, the little guy is so cute!"

"I agree." Sam nodded. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry smiled and said, "I'm just glad she's alright and happy. That's enough closure for me."

* * * *

I have an alternate ending for this one lmao

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @osterfieldnholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu @justanamesstuff @dudethisvoid

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @parker-potters @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff

[snapeaddict]

I was thinking... one with Mcgonagall and her being incredibly disappointed in him but then learning of everything since I know that Snape and Mcgonagall/Dumbledore is your speciality although I would also like it if it was with Hagrid.

Detention for Severus

"I am very disappointed in you, Mister Snape. I thought a student as gifted as you would not resort to physical violence when you find yourself in a disagreement with your classmates. Mister Lupin, take your friends to the hospital Wing."

Severus watched as Potter and Black departed, pinching their nose so that blood would not fall on their robes. They gave him a vengeful look, and he felt his heart drop: it would get worst... So much worst, and yet, it could never be as worse as what had already happened.

McGonagall spoke again.

"You will serve detention with Hagrid tonight. He needs help with some of the animals. Please be in my office at 6pm."

Severus nodded, glad she finally seemed willing to let him go. He was relieved of his punishment, as Hagrid was kind and he liked animals - he tried hard not to look too relieved. But it was easy in the end, as he felt so angry and humiliated his nails started to dig in his arms' skin: she would never understand.

---

Minerva watched as the 16 years old Slytherin sat on the floor, cleaning a cage Hagrid had been using to keep a litter of hedgehogs he had cared for the whole winter and had recently set free just behind his house. Hedgehogs were adorable animals, but definitely not clean ones unless domesticated. Severus slightly rolled up his sleeves as he reached the bottom, worried he would get his only set of robes dirty.

Minerva was about to turn away, but something caught her eyes; red, thin scares on the boy's skin.

"Yeh are doin' a great job at this, Mister Snape", Hagrid told him, kneeling beside him. "Look what I've got here."

He carefully took something out of his pocket, which Minerva did not recognise at first; it was a small, ginger kitten which Severus slowly put down on his lap. She observed as the boy gently stroke his fur, looking more gentle and vulnerable she had ever seen him before. After ten minutes, she took a few steps forward, interrupting them.

"Hagrid, may I have word with Mister Snape for a moment, if you don't mind?"

Severus looked surprised. The half-giant just smiled.

"O' course, professor," he replied warmly. "You can go into the house if yeh want".

Minerva nodded, waiting for the Slytherin boy to follow her. He looked hesitant.

"Come on, Mister Snape. I'm not going to eat you."

She closed the door behind her, inviting Severus to sit at the big table in the center of the room. The student looked uncomfortable, looking away, absent-mindedly bitting his lower lip.

"Mister Snape", she said gently, "would you... Would you show me your arms?"

She had done it before. She still did not know how it should be done. She had done it with students from her own house and Filius' house; but it was her first time with a Slytherin, and not any Slytherin.

The boy froze.

"No." He told her firmly, taking her by surprise.

It wasn't his refusal that startle her, of course; but his gaze. It had hardened, and his tone was suddenly so cold she thought for a second she was talking to a different person.

She nodded.

"I understand."

It was Severus' turn to look surprised. He was not used to be listened to.

"Would you like to tell me why you are doing this, Mister Snape?" Minerva tried again, her voice softer. "Anything you need to tell me."

The boy blinked. He did not understand what was happening. It was surreal.

He did not know what seemed the most astonishing, that she seemed to care for what he had to say, or that she was genuinely wondering why he felt so... So desperate for relief?

He hated himself. He should have been more careful. He did not need her pity nor did he want to spend one more second in her presence, a presence he had grown to resent.

"I don't want your help", he told her, with so much hate it was as if he had spat in her face.

Despite his behaviour, Minerva did not give up. Her facial expression did not change.

"Why not?" she asked in a neutral voice, watching as the boy grew more and more agitated.

"I thought I was here to serve detention", he replied, his gaze evasive.

"Things have changed", Minerva answered simply. "I am here to help you, Severus."

It was the first time she called him by his first name. Severus could not help but look up. But he did not speak. Minerva could tell by his body language he was anxious - she pursed her lips as the feeling was communicative.

"I am just human, Severus", she said on a defeated tone, looking for any change in his posture. "I make mistakes and there are some things I don't see."

Something in the boy's chest broke. It was anger that came out - fury as he stood there, looking at this woman who had protected his bullies for fives years, turning a blind eye on the daily humiliations and Dumbledore's favoritism and everything - of course she knew. Of course.

"DON'T LIE!" he shouted suddenly, getting up. Minerva did not move. Severus looked straight into her eyes.

"You know everything. You watch them doing it and you don't care. Why would you care after all?! You only have eyes for your precious Gryffindors. Only them! Always them!"

He was out of breath. He felt disgusting and ashamed. He wanted to shout at her, to force her to look away, anywhere else so that her calculating eyes would stop watching him. She had no right to do this.

Minerva wondered how Albus would have reacted had he been her, confronted to this disheveled student shouting at her. But would he... Would he really find a better way to respond to this boy?

She looked at him again.

He would not.

A lump formed in her throat as she felt a terrible feeling of failure spreading in her chest. What had she missed?

It was funny, James and Sirius taught Snape a good lesson. You should have seen him!

She had heard it. She had thought it was another boy fight. No one had came to complain. So she had forgotten about it.

"Tell me what they did to you", she said firmly, hiding her hands under the table. She was nervous.

Severus was trembling, standing beside his chair, his eyes on his feet. He looked at her.

"Tell me", she repeated in a more gentle manner.

She scrutinised his face. Was it... Shame she was reading there? Shame that prevented him from looking right into her eyes and swallow properly?

"You don't have to be ashamed, Severus." She hesitated. "If someone should be, it's certainly me. I have obviously failed to fulfil my duty as your teacher."

All of them had failed to see the despair on that boy's face and the self harm. She had not seen it only a few hours before, and yet some of the scares she had seen were faded; they were not new.

She decided to go on.

"I apologise for not helping your earlier. But if you tell me what's wrong - or what you think is wrong, I will help you. I promise."

There were students she was more fond of than others, she had to admit it. Severus had never been one of them, on the contrary; but no child would suffer under her watch.

The boy swallowed with some difficulty.

"I don't trust you", he told her coldly. There was venom in his voice. "I don't want your promises. Let me go."

"You do not have to trust me. You just have to know that as your teacher I will do anything in my power to help you get better."

It was too much.

"Then EXPELL THEM!" Severus screamed, heading toward the door. "PROTECT US!"

He was almost crying. He felt humiliated yet again,by none other than the head of Gryffindor -

How logical.

"Tell me why you need protection, Severus. I need to hear it from you."

"Oh, I don't know", Severus sneered, feeling out of control. "Because they have been bullying me and others for five years? Because they--they took my clothes off? Because they tried to KILL me?"

Kill?

He opened the door violently. Minerva made a movement, she wanted to stop him; but she decided otherwise. He wasn't finished.

"Slytherins, younger students, poorer students like me... What chance do we have against the golden, rich pureblood from Gryffindors? None. None!"

Severus breathed. He had said it. Finally.

"I hate you", he whispered. "You and all of those who have been protecting them. Being expelled from this hell of a place will be the greatest relief of my life."

He did not care. He did not care anymore. Not after what had happened. Not after Lily had left. Not after Dumbledore had told him to be silent. Not after the student who had tried to murder him was still mercilessly bullying him everyday, while he was the one punished, again, again.

He did not care anymore.

"Anywhere's better than here."

He stormed out.

The tears finally fell on his young face, he wanted to escape - but Hagrid was there. He stopped him, gripping his shoulder firmly: Severus turned to look at him, furious.

"Never be ashamed,’ my ol’ dad used ter sad", he told him. "Never."

Severus tried to stifle his sobs.

Minerva was standing in the doorframe, trembling slightly.

"I am going to talk with professor Dumbledore. I am going to talk with the administration board. I'm going to make things right", she said in a toneless voice, searching for Severus' eyes in the declining light of the evening. "Right now."

And she would.

At Severus' feet, a cat started purring.

---

"It is a beautiful spell", Severus said quietly, watching as the bubble like animals floated around them, glimmering in the afternoon light. He frowned in concentration and a cat appeared at the bottom of his wand, leaving him with a feeling of relief he welcomed with opened arms.

It was Hagrid's ginger kitten.

"Do you promise you will use it if you feel the urge to harm yourself, Severus?" Minerva asked gently. "I know it takes time."

The boy did not look at her, his eyes still following the cat until he disappeared in the window light.

"I'll try", he whispered.

[mymegumi]

GLORY

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader

summary: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god

genre: far cry five au, enemies to not-quite lovers, darker themes, villain au. tbh not really a ship fic </3

word count: 3.7k

warnings: heavy talk of religion, cults, cultish manipulation, dubious morality, use of guns, bad characters, haikyuu!! characters portrayed as villains, fake drugs, mentions of abuse, torture, injuries, implied noncon drug use and swearing

notes: i want to preface this by saying this is much darker than the content i normally write. it is not my normal content, and i am hopeful that i tagged everything properly; please tell me if i didn’t! also i dipped a bit into a character study of the main character’s fetch quest idea, in which you do all the work that other’s in game easily could! nonetheless, if you still wanna read—i hope you enjoy!

Hope’s County was a desolate piece of shit.

It was filled to the brim with cultists that seemed to think the Coming was approaching, in which the Lord would cast down those who did not repent for their sins. Truthfully, you weren’t even all that religious, but finding out about the self-proclaimed Sin family had turned you off to the idea even more, turning your back on the faith of a warped version of Christianity to instead focus on your job.

Called into the deteriorating county, you were a simple deputy—a rookie with barely a few years of work under your belt. You weren’t too keen on your police work, often finding the job as systematically fucked as the government officials that decided to turn a blind eye to the Sin family since the youngest of the bunch had more money to wave around than you did to pay your monthly rent.

“Rook,” an unfortunate nickname that’d stuck around against your protestations, your superior—Daichi was nice, if not a bit too optimistic—called out to you, waving you over to the map of Hope’s County, red marker furiously drawn all over, “you’re still new: y’remember what I told you about Suna?”

“Second oldest of the brothers, he’s considered the least of a threat due to the fact he’s often working in the Bliss fields.” You poke your head out the window a bit, eyes searching over the high reaching tops of ficus trees, “It’s not really known if he ingests the drug and experiences the hallucination of his followers, but it can be assumed that he doesn’t, to maintain the power over those that do.”

Daichi nods his approval at you, and you feel a flare of resentment somewhere deep in your belly. You try not to, really you do, you’re a good person who’s good at your job, and sometimes you go to church when it’s Easter, but in the same breath, you don’t remember the last time you’d ever even considered confessing your so-called sins to a Father.

The number one sin on your list, so Atsumu had taunted to you as he held a knife to your throat, was apparently Pride—too prideful of your supposed Savior of Hope’s County title you’d been given, pride thrummed in your veins after every member of his Father’s cult you wiped out. You don’t really remember what had happened after that, vaguely that his younger twin brother had to all but pry him off of you, reminding the blond of their Father’s purpose for you.

It was the only reason you were still alive, the Father’s so-called purpose for you—the fact he saw in his visions a future where you were a key piece, the final chess piece moving to keep a king in check. Even despite the list of sins Atsumu insisted that you followed, pride seemingly the one that harbored the most space in your person.

You, however, knew what your sin was. It flared red and angry whenever Daichi talked down to you as if your some odd years in the force were wiped clean, and you were a true rookie yet again, no smarter than a civilian to the dark ways the world worked. It made heat run through your body whenever Kita, the Father of the Sin family, called you his greatest masterpiece as if he had any say in the way you were slowly turning into a war machine—plowing through his followers with scary ease and accuracy.

Your greatest sin reared its head whenever you faced Suna, too laid back, too uncaring, and the antithesis of everything that you stood for.

Wrath, you learned, made your hands shake when he smiled at you, edges looping as if the Bliss he grew just poured from every pore of his body.

“Not that one can really want to ingest bliss,” Daichi murmurs into his palm a bit, leaning over his map of Hope’s County, “It’s more you get too close to it and the fumes of it will get you.”

Bliss was, just as the Sin family was, something you’d never even come close to encountering before. It was a drug that they’d found, or crossbred, and it had hallucinogenic effects on whoever inhaled the product it released.

Batches of it were found all over the county, but the root of the source was in Suna’s valley of the land, affectionately known as Heaven Valley by those who couldn’t remember the name, or didn’t try to. You’d seen more than one group of people in hazmat suits having to clear out fields of it, and just watching them made your head dip and spin with the would-be effects if you’d gone any closer than you already were.

Bush of full, green leaves with seemingly innocent white flowers on it, the plant itself was harmless, and yet when allowed to convert carbon dioxide, it made a lethal gas that made anyone who got too close go mad. It was said that the family had even begun experimenting with grinding it into a powder or melting it down to its liquid state.

“Bunch of fucking crazies,” You mutter the words to yourself long after you’d left the solace of Daichi’s office, somewhere out in the valley and far out of earshot of anyone that might wonder which group of people you were referring to—the ones producing cult members at a daily rate that was intensely concerning, or the ones trying to stop them, “God, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“Hey, there, Dep, hope you’re tuned into my channel,” You could honestly groan, but you’re trying to make sure no one finds you on your perch in a tree somewhere, your 308 carbine’s scope not exactly focused on anything in particular, but at the ready. Suna’s voice is light and airy over the radio attached to your hip, though the sound is tuned to the earpiece you’re wearing, “Just wanted to let you know that ‘Tsumu’s missing you an awful lot. Says you left before he could have his fun, won’t stop pouting about it.”

You’re smarter than answering to a taunt that Suna sets out in front of you, and yet you can’t help but feel as if your lack of an answer is him winning. Maybe his so-called brother was right about the sin he’d tried carving into the flesh of your abdomen.

“You’d look real funny if I hadn’t picked up just now, Suna,” you whisper, eyes straying from the scope to the button that’s meant to be an answer to the other person on the line.

Suna’s laugh is a little grainy on the radio channel, but it’s not taunting like it usually is, joy written into the edges of his laugh, “And yet you’re on the other end of the line, answering me, dear Deputy. So who really looks funny in the end, hm?”

Fuck. The brunet had caught you, the lure of an unanswered challenge too much for you to pass up for your pride, a sin in and of itself. Maybe you should offer yourself up to Osamu and Atsumu again to get pride carved into your skin because apparently, your wrath wasn’t enough.

“Touché,” You start to climb down from the tree, slinging the gun over your shoulder as you huff into the receiver of the microphone. Your feet catch in the knots of the tree, and your hands start to blister a bit when you lose your footing, and yet Suna stays silent on the radio.

“Going silent on me, what was the point of the call—just to talk about your brother’s unfortunate hobbies with me?”

“Can’t a guy call out into the void and not expect someone to respond?” His smile is almost palpable over the radio call, however many times he flickers in and out of the call, “You’re always welcome to come visit my cabin, Dep.”

“Not in a million years,” feet now firmly planted on the ground, you have to right yourself a bit in orientation before you head towards the ATV you’d taken out to this part of the woods.

“I wouldn’t say that so definitely.”

Suna, of the Sin family, was often on the radio with you. He wasn’t always talking directly to you, no, sometimes he was just talking about idle parts of his day and there was a part of you that wondered if there was a part of him that just needed someone to talk to.

You always had to push the thoughts aside, however, tucking them somewhere deep into your chest so you wouldn’t sympathize with him. He was the cause for the murder of a multitude of people in Hope’s County, the root of the drug trade that went outside of the otherwise isolated county, and sometimes the despite it all, you sympathized with the man.

The Sin family was notorious in Hope’s County as not only being the leading members of the cult but because of their immigration status. Cast out of Japan in their early teens for following a faith so incorrectly, they found solace in the soil of a town in need of a direction, no matter how far off the beaten path it would take its members.

Kita Shinsuke, also known as the Father by those following their twisted version of Christianity, was the head of the operations. A prophet of fallacies or of forthcoming events, no one truly knew, and yet he claimed the words of God followed him in his sleep, that he couldn’t leave the Lord’s words unanswered.

The next of the group was often on his own, Ojiro Aran an isolated member of the family that preferred to stay in his section of the woods, away from the chaos that seemed to follow the youngest members of their little family. Ojiro was often known as the zookeeper, both for keeping the rowdy Osamu and Atsumu in line, while also because of his secondary role in the family—the trainer and breeder of wolves that were often used as indicators of one’s faith.

The Miya twins seemed to cause the most upfront issues for the Hope County Police Department, causing more than one silo to explode on the otherwise neutral farmlands. They seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, with their sins written on their bodies as if the Lord would accept their souls, rather than just their vessels. Sloth was scrawled across the younger of the two’s chest, with a matching Pride across the other’s, letters both a bit off-kilter.

The final member, of which enjoyed causing you, personally, the most trouble, was Suna Rintarou, genius beyond words and yet lazy beyond belief. For what he lacked in motivation, he made up for in creative and almost barbaric forms of punishment. His words were sharp around the edges, and yet they made everyone listen to the sermons he preached, like a moth drawn to the flame.

“My dear, sweet Rook, you seem to forget that this territory is mine,” you ignore the way he inflicts his claim on the land you’ve no right being on, and yet it sends something akin to fear down the lines of your spine, “You walk among these trees as if you’re hidden, and yet I always know where you are.”

“Sounds less like you know your territory,” you start, always willing to put up a fight with the brunet you’d not seen in at least a week, at this point, “and more like you’re stalking me—got a crush, Rintarou?”

“More like an infatuation,” his voice is just a purr, too velvety to just be jest, and yet there’s a part of you that knows you can’t trust a word this man says, “take what you want from that, darling, I’m not the one going to be thinking about it all night.”

Perhaps Atsumu had gotten your sin wrong, and perhaps there was a second option he’d never even considered—your human nature was multifaceted and ever-changing, and perhaps your sins were available in multitudes, rather than a singularity.

If he catches you again, you’d love to see his reaction to you saying you’d be willing to let him carve lust into your skin with his knife—love it even more if he asked who it was for.

Suna doesn’t say much more after that, just his usual spiel of the fact you need to atone for your sins, and that Osamu’s always willing to wash them from your skin in the river. You forget to mention your latest one isn’t one so easily erased from your skin, too deeply embedded in your bones, and you wear it like a second skin at this point.

That’s why you struggle, sometimes, against the Sin brothers and their outlandish claims of paradise meant for those who atone. You struggle because you know the weight of each sin you’ve ever committed—a book added to an already overflowing backpack of crimes against God.

Suna Rintarou, most of all, makes your blood simmer white-hot with unbridled rage—yet you’re not even sure why. It might be the lackadaisical smile that’s ever-present on his face, edges sloping and curving over his face as he taunts you, knives glinting in the sunlight of day. It might even be the way you want to press as close to him as possible, and run as far away from him as possible at the same time—ever the perfect contradiction, a paradox of which you’ve been unable to solve for your time at Hope’s County.

Perhaps the Sin family is right in the unmaking of the world, but your only proof is that God smites you by making Suna one of the most undeniably attractive men you’ve ever met.

Confident in a way that carries in the gait of his walk, and the way his shoulders settle on his frame, Suna knows that he’s got his claws deep in your skin—gripping you to keep you at a distance, and yet not letting you get any further away from him. As if you’d let him get away, your hands would be wrapped around the column of his neck—intent to kill or to offer pleasure, you’d just have to decide when the time came.

“Howdy, stranger.”

These woods must twist your sense of mind, pushing and pulling at the seams of your existence and the fabric that makes the foundation of your realities—the air must be contaminated. You’re not where you thought you were going: you’d been headed towards the Miyas’ territory with the sole purpose of destroying the sin of wrath that had been crawling its way up your throat, trying to escape at any chance.

Yet, you’ve ended up in Heaven’s Valley, and straight into Suna’s hand.

He stands before you, hands tucked into a pair of dark beige cargo pants with a loose leather vest as his only top, smooth skin covered in scars and tattoos on full display. For all that Atsumu spewed of repenting for your sins, confessions meant to be curled into skin with a blade, you had to admit that he was one hell of a tattoo artist.

Suna’s tattoos were unlike the harsh angles of Osamu’s, forgoing the looping script of the English language for the smooth strokes of Japanese. It was a harsh juxtaposition to the jagged letters of ‘greed’ splayed across the expanse of his lower belly, the bottom of the ‘g’ dipping underneath the waistband of his pants.

“Rintarou, what a surprise.” Your words slur a bit at the edges, and you’re not sure if it’s just from stepping into his land or being in his presence, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that Bliss dances in your system, “Can’t say I’m disappointed to see you.”

“How honest, sweet one,” his smile resembles a wolf, you come to the conclusion because despite the Sin family being described as a pack of foxes, there’s a carnal look in his eyes as he stares at you, “I like when you’re honest with me.”

“I like when you don’t shoot me on sight,” you vaguely remember a pistol at your hip, your carbine left behind in favor of a shotgun, “makes our little talks seem more personal.”

His laugh is clear, a bell in the fog that is your mind, “Do I often shoot at you, sweet one, for I believe it’s you that shoots first.”

“Mm,” you let your eyes flicker to his before you feel a crease form between your brows, “you still shoot back.”

“I never let a favor go unpaid, darling.” He’s closer to you now, a hand sliding along the curve of your arm, before resting just above your pulse point. His hand is warm, opposite of the cooling night air, “Yet you’ve done a favor for me I’ve not yet given anything in return for.”

“What?”

Your confusion is palpable even without your verbal input because Suna’s thumb is smoothing it away from your brow with his free hand. His eyes are darker now with the sun down, only the moonlight illuminating the outline of his face and there’s something about the sight that makes your skin rise, goosebumps lining your arms.

“Deputy,” the moniker is like a velvety purr against the exposed skin of your nape, “I’m a bit hurt that you don’t remember our very first meeting. It holds such a sweet spot in my heart, so for you to forget it cuts me deep to my core.”

You wrack your brain trying to remember the first time you’d met Suna, all those days ago at the beginning of the summer, when you’d been unscarred and unafraid of your allegiances. There was still a hopeful part of you, then, that had been so sure you could be the savior of these people.

“I don’t…” your voice trails off as you watch Suna walk back in front of you, his face calm as you worry at your bottom lip.

“Of course not,” a knife flickers in his hand, the silver blade gleaming in the pale light of the moon, “you were much too blissed out to remember, but there was information you provided that proved most useful.”

His hands trail along your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake as you lean closer to him, drawn in as if connected by an invisible string. Suna’s leaned in closer now, close enough that you can feel his exhales fanning across your face gently; can see when his eyes flicker and dance on the lines of your features.

“Pretty little thing, too pretty to be fighting a war you never signed up for,” he muses softly as the back of his hand eases across your cheek, “my darling deputy, you told me you wished for an escape from the pressures, the responsibilities that the locals had forced upon you. You are but a single piece, yet you’re burdened with the work of a hundred pawns.”

You take a shuddering breath in, and you let the tension leave your body that had settled along the weight of your shoulders as soon as Suna let his presence be known. You let the need to shoot him rest, because despite this man being the suffering and cause of so many downfalls—he understood.

He understood your wrath, the feeling of it tingling in your fingertips whenever Daichi asked you to do a job that could easily be done by someone else. You were just a person who’d stumbled into Hope’s County at a precipice of change—down on your luck and thrust into a job and title that made you feel like an imposter. He knew your fists clenched whenever another civilian came to you, begging you to save their farm when indeed, it would do nothing in the end for the resistance.

Maybe he knew that underneath every mundane task that you helped others with, there was a vexation that ran along the lengths of your body at their inability to do things on their own. You loved the citizens of this county, you swore to protect them when you became a member of the police force, and yet an undeniable thrum of rage would flood your body when they leaned on you more than the other members of the resistance.

How lovely it was that someone else understood you, even if it was Suna Rintarou.

Why were you fighting them so hard? Your mind supplies this thought too easily, like shrugging on a hoodie on a cold night, and it flits around your brain and fills in the empty spaces that Suna keeps tearing in your psyche.

You remember the end of the sermon that Kita had spoken when you first went to arrest him, all those months ago when the summer was licking at spring’s heels. He’d been haloed in the rays of the evening sun that filtered into the partially broken down church, hands spread with a rosary wrapped tightly against his left hand.

“For all have sinned,” he had spoken softly, eyes locking with yours as soon as the doors opened, and you felt panic strike you still, Daichi pressing on your shoulder to make you continue walking, “and fall short of the glory of God.”

If you were a sinner already falling from His good graces, why not enter hell with a list of sins that made the Devil take a breath in? Were you not already marked for damnation—what good would siding with Suna Rintarou and his family of fucked up prophets do for you?

“Rintarou,” his name leaves your mouth breathlessly, “if I’m going to hell, I’m going to drag you and your family with me.”

His eyes flash with something you can’t quite place your finger on, and yet the feeling it gives you runs along your spine with a chill, “You’re making a mistake. My family and I will find you, no matter where you are, and no matter what trouble you kick up.”

You press a kiss along the curve of his jaw, not missing the way his hands clench at his sides, “Then come catch me.”

There’s a part of you that hates that Atsumu was right because pride sinks into your bones with the fact that you leave with the last word. The last laugh is yours as you leave Suna in the dust of your exit, not knowing if there was another way it could have ended, if you’d just taken the hand he’d extended to you.

t.list — @nekomabvc

[nevergiveupneverrun]

Bodyguard - Chapter Sixty-Seven “You will become dust again”

Hello, how are you? Here is chapter Sixty-Seven of my Story Bodyguard, yay!! I hope you will like this chapter. Sorry for not posting yesterday, I didn’t have time…

I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

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- We are gathered today to evoke the memory of a man. Come together to support each other in this ordeal, in the face of absence and pain. The shock is all the more pronounced because this disappearance is done in violent circumstances, for a man who still had his whole life in front of him…but he dedicated his life to others: it’s like a hero that he left us and that’s how we have to remember him and keep him deep in our hearts.

The priest pauses for several long seconds then waves to a person in the front row. The recollection room of the crematorium is occupied by about thirty people who form like a black cloud, while they all wear the same dark and funereal color.

The designated man stands up and walks slowly towards the desk. He turns to face the assembly. And a deep voice echoes in the room.

- I had known Owen for many years…I trained him, I coached him…and as goes by the missions and our collaboration, a real bond has been created between us. He was the best element I have known in my career: surprising for his intelligence, his dexterity, his ability to analyze and act at the right time. He dedicated his life to protect others. His country. And his clients, when he decided to reorient his career to become a bodyguard. Danger and death have been part of hid daily life for the past fifteen years. Thanks to his talent, he escaped many very dangerous situations. But this time, the outcome was different.

He looks down at these words, then after a minute ends up looking up at the assembly.

- Owen left as he would have liked. Saving the life of the one he was protecting. By concluding his mission as always with success. He wanted to feel useful, to make sense of his life, to leave his mark in a certain way. I believe that today from where he looks at us, it is a serene man and satisfied with what he has accomplished who observes us. Without any regrets. Without any resentment.

He then looks for someone in the room and then addresses that person.

- You must not feel guilty. By doing this job, he accepted all the risks. Be ready to die to protect and save a life, he had prepared for it. I, for my part, am proud to have crossed his path. And I will keep him in my memory as he would have liked: a brave man. A beautiful soul who knew how to do good around him.

A nod concludes theses last words and he returns to his place as silently as when he arrived at the desk.

~~~

Another silhouette is already standing out. A man, who turns around in his turn. His features are more drawn, his face clearly revealing a deep pain.

He clears his throat twice, takes a deep breath, and then speaks in a calm and firm voice…in complete contrast to his image.

- I didn’t expect to live this day… when we do this type of job, agent or bodyguard, as I was able to do also, we necessarily think of the outcome that can be ours… but it’s still a concept. A simple possibility. I share so much with Owen…so much that convinced me that he was just too good, too talented to…

He is coughing lightly at this time. His hand is resting on the desk as if he is seeking a balanced that he is about to lose.

- I blame you, Owen, wherever you are. I blame you for proving that I could have been wrong, he continues with a thin smile that doesn’t however win his eyes, still dull and slightly reddened. We were a team, an impressive partnership and life will not be the same without your presence. But you were clearly the hero of the group…and you had demonstrated it until the end. I will miss you, bro.

He looks at the sky for long seconds while uttering this last word. Then, after what seems to be almost a moment of recollection, he leaves the desk to return to his seat in the assembly. As he sits down, a female silhouette leans to his side, then places a hand on his back before holding it against his neck.

~~~~

The priest reappears in front of the first row and whispers a few words to one of the people sitting in front of him. A nod follows his words and he finally helps this person to stand up and take a seat on the small platform. This time it is a woman. She firmly holds a tissue in her left hand which she carries against her chest while positioning herself in front of the desk. Wet highlights are visible on her cheeks, revealing that she couldn’t hold back tears.

The priest whispers a few words in her ear then takes the distance, staying to the side a few steps. Thus, alone in front of the room, she breathed deeply, her eyes closed. Her chest visibly rises several times, then she opens her eyes again. Staring straight ahead…as if she ad a landmark to look out for.

- Owen was…

Her voice resonates weakly and immediately turns off after a few seconds.

She lowers her face and places her tissue against her mouth, seeming to contain sobs that were only trying to escape. 

She recovers in just a few seconds.

Demonstrating an impressive strength of character.

- Owen was like the son I never had…that I never could have. He was a lovely child. Full of life and sweetness. And this sweetness never left him. Despite the trials of life he had to go through, he remained as that little boy was…becoming an impressive man. He never clearly told me his real job…just telling me that he took care of others. But today, I understand he didn’t want me to worry about knowing the truth. He has always been like that…this concern to spare others constantly, to protect them, without ever thinking about what could cost him. Always putting his own well-being last. I had to live the ordeal of the death of his parents who were among my closest friends. Find me here. It’s the worst time of my life…when I only hoped for one thing, and that is to attend only happy moments for Owen. A wedding maybe. The joy of seeing him start a family.

Silent tears slide down both sides of her face. Her voice doesn’t tremble. Only her face betrays her emotion.

- I only hope for one thing. Is that he found the peace that he had been missing for so many years. And especially that they are gathered, all three, in this land of angles. My consolation is to tell me that we will also meet again one day…

A whisper concludes her speech. The priest comes back to her side and places a hand on her back, carefully leading her back to her place. Then he faces the assembly again.

- Amelia, do you want to say a few words finally?

A movement of the head is distinguished in the first row, a slow back and forth, expressing a refusal to this proposition from the priest. The silhouette is marked by a burst of tears while answering to this proposition…emotion is the strongest.

- Fine, we will use your song as you wish to mark a tribute to Owen in your own way. Thank you for all these testimonies and the effort that it represents for everyone to express themselves in this way and remember a being whose absence already touches immensely. Owen was a remarkable man, appreciated and loved by all who crossed his path…and it is the most beautiful image, the most beautiful memory that we must keep each in our hearts. Now, I invite everyone to come and pray one last time and say Goodbye.

He waves to the people in the front row, inviting them to come forward to the coffin posted in the center of the room. The whole room then stands up while guitar notes are heard.

A well-known melody…

“More than Words“ thus sounds, accompanying the silent passage of the members of the assembly in front of the coffin.

~~~~

I distract from this scene, the image is too hard to bear. Too disturbing.

This ebony mass stands out in the center of the room.

These black silhouettes like ghosts advancing obediently, some with difficulty, with measured steps, a white rose in their hand. 

The musical notes sound familiar to me and rightly so when I perceive mingling with Amelia’s voice, my own voice. This is this unexpected duet that we shared when she wanted to rehearse her cover for a future show.

Who could have recorded this moment?

Was there such a system in what was her composition room? Or did she use her phone without me realizing it since we had redone the title a dozen times?

~~~

A time that is difficult for me to estimate is ticking away until I raise my gaze on the second screen in front of me. The majority of people left the room, only 5 people who were in the first row are seated again.

I discover them on this ale of the camera no longer from the back but from the front, their faces being distinguished by the mass of dark ebony which occupies most of the stage.

The priest then waves to the back of the room and a metallic noise is heard.

The coffin gradually lowered as if sucked towards an elsewhere…finally disappearing towards the mechanism of the crematorium. 

A final dry and dull sound rises, symbolically marking the end of the ceremony…the pass from inert flesh to dust.

My eyes are staring intently at the faces watching this scene: and one of them deeply squeezes my heart.

This face.

The one who has haunted my days and my nights for so long months. But it’s like I don’t recognize her. As if she were another.

All shine seems to have evaporated from her features. Marked dark rings under her eyes can be guessed, accentuated by eyes intensely reddened by the sobs that assail her. Messy locks of hair are escaping from an awkwardly put together ponytail.

What I read in that face assails me with an intense puff of guilt: despair, discomfort, gap…I give in to the violence of the image.

My conviction wavers. My heart is racing without me controlling it.

I lower my gaze cowardly and my eyes look on the sheet on the table in front of me.

On this symbol which crystalizes the context where I am now.

The choice I made.

The chance I want to give her. She deserves the best…a best that is elsewhere.

~~~

A door creaking is heard behind my back, but I remain impassive, still confused by the thoughts and reactions I am expressing.

- Did you follow the ceremony?

I nod, my eyes still fixed on this document on the table, and each line is inscribed unconsciously in my mind.

- Owen, there is still time to change your mind. 

~

“I certify to give up all my civil rights“

~

- Will you watch over her?

~

“I renounce my identity to provide all the services related to my missions under the necessary covers and determined by my hierarchy.“

~~

- Nathan, will you watch over her? I repeat softly, my eyes still enthralled on the words breaking away fro the official contract. 

- I will keep an eye on her… she will need time to recover you know…she is devastated… she didn’t lose only her bodyguard…

~

“I ensure that I no longer maintain any lin with relatives, family, friends, and definitively forget about any relationship to ensure my new functions.“

~

- I know…

- Are you well aware of what you meant to her?

- Yes, Nathan, I already told you at the hospital…I heard everything before I lost consciousness…

A pause settles between us, palpable but invisible tension in the air.

~~~

My eyes scan the document from bottom to top, my attention lingering on the title: “Directorate-General for External Security - Secret Services“. My hand automatically reaches for the pen on the table and I grab it, raising the point slightly towards the section I need to sign.

- Owen…

I perceive my first name as the last warning in the vague and fleeting tone of Nathan’s voice.

I raise my attention to my mentor whose eyes I meet for the first time since the start of our exchange.

- Owen Hunt just disappeared, you just attended his funeral.

- Yes, I know, don’t remember me what I just did…the comedy you asked me to play in front of all these people…including in front of Jackson who was very affected as you could see.

- Stop…it’s not the first time you’ve done this…you worked for years in special units…

- Yes, but this is the first time that I know so well the people in front of whom I have to delude.

I put the tip of the pen at the bottom of the document, but I hold my hand in this position for a few moments. My fate will be sealed after this signature. My life will only be a memory.

- The members of the “Phantom“ Services do not usually have your profile… they are orphans, men who have lost everything in their life, who no longer have their family…men who have nothing to tie them to their own life and identity and they abandon it almost with pleasure. But you? You, you have just deliberately chosen to sacrifice your identity, to become a memory for those who know you to be one of the five elite spy members of the Secret Service…What are you running from, Owen?

I take a deep breath, Nathan’s remarks instantly tense me.

- Nathan, I asked you if you wanted to help me…you accepted…I didn’t oblige you. Again, if you don’t understand my choice it’s your right but please respect my decision and don’t make it harder.

I stare at the white cloud under the tip of the pen and without thinking any longer, in a reflex gesture, I blacked the page with my signature.

Thus formalizing my new status.

After having long shadowed my clients as a bodyguard, I became a full shadow. A “ghost“ man who would take on a different identity depending on the missions.

I observe my signature who henceforth dresses this letter of mission and commitment…where I agree to renounce my rights, my past, my entire life.

- Ok, well I have nothing to say than “Congratulations“… Nathan says in a slightly bitter whisper.

~~

I felt he disapproved of this decision I had made.

When I woke up in the hospital in the middle of the night, after several days of convalescence, the choice that I made today had taken shape in my mind.

All the ingredients were there for me to disappear…it became the only outcome that seemed acceptable to me…for all.

- Don’t think it’s easy for me, I retorted weakly.

- I respect your decision Owen and I have helped you in every step…but don’t blame me, if I insist on making sure that you have weighed up the pros and cons… you will not be able to go back…

- I know and this decision is well considered. It may have seemed rushed but it’s better for everyone…

- Do you really think it’s better for her? He supports me, pointing to one of the two screens, where we can make out Amelia, still sitting in the ceremony room. The empty gaze blurred by tears. Absent attention was fixed in front of her. April, in a wheelchair, is present next to her and holds her hand discreetly but firmly.

I remain hypnotized in front of this scene: I can see Amelia’s lips moving to whisper the words she slipped into my ear before I lost consciousness.

April comforts her a little more, giving a kiss on her hand and giving her a few words of encouragement.

I hardly swallow my saliva, taking the pain I inflict on her in the face.

I want to go through the screen. To take her in my arm. To tell her the truth. To see a smile light up her beautiful face.

But a little voice awakens in me as my hands shake and my body is on the alert, ready to step out of this room.

This little voice reassures and calms me, telling me the reasons for my choice and Amelia’s interest…

- It’s better for her…

- Owen…the sorrow you see in her eyes… it’s the pain of a woman in love… she loves you so much…don’t react out of selfishness to protect yourself…

- It’s not out of selfishness that I want to disappear from her life.

- Listen, I know you’ve been hurt in your life, and everyone close to you has abandoned you… that life snatched them from you… or that betrayal struck you down. But do not fall into a blind fatality that will make you see each meeting as doomed in advance.

I take my eyes off the image of Amelia and breathe deeply, before staring at Nathan.

- As weird as it sounds to you, I only think of one person by making this choice…it’s not me, it’s Amelia.

I perceive Nathan’s forehead to wrinkle, denoting his incomprehension at my answer.

- She is not in love with me, Nathan…she is in love with an image. She idealized me. I’m not the one for her. I am unable to give her what she needs, I confess weakly. I will only disappoint her.

I find the image of Amelia on the screen, and discover her slowly leaving the room with April by her side. I realize that they are only a few meters from me, as they reached the corridor. A door separates me from her. An irrational desire to put everything aside and find her again rises in me.

The torture is intense…

But my will and my conviction to have made the right decision are stronger than anything.

- I save her time. I couldn’t bear to read the disappointment in her eyes. Detect that moment when she would have realized that she was wrong. And disappear like that, this is the only way she will understand and forgive me.

I pause for a few seconds before finishing my answer.

- Happiness is elsewhere for her. Someone else is meant for her. Clinging to my mirage would only delay her.

The presence of Nathan is emerging at my side and I perceive a hand to place on my shoulder.

- I wish you a lot of courage for your new functions anyway. Be careful.

I nod, surprised that he so quickly abandons the questions he had about my motivations regarding this drastic choice for my life.

He takes a few steps away, places his hand on the doorknob, and turns around one last time before leaving the room.

- I’ll keep an eye on Amelia, be sure.

He lowers his eyes for a few moments then gazes into mine intensely.

- And I fully understand your decision now…through these few words and what emerges from you…

- Really? I ask, surprised at this sudden revelation.

- Yes, really…I know what you do…you love her like crazy to let her go…

                                                  THE END

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Thank you for reading. But it’s not really the end of the story, I will post two bonus chapters as soon as possible and I hope you will like them. Stay safe and be happy 💛

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Azula’s New Groove (Part 1)

Summary: Literally The Emperor's New Groove except it's Azula and her serving girl. 

As any good story does, this one begins with a koala-sheep, a talking koala-sheep crying in the rain. A vividly silver-blue flash of lightning brightens the jungle, reminding the koala-sheep of what she has lost. Because this particular koala-sheep can not only talk, but also bend lightning. The koala-sheep knows this but has forgotten such in her overwhelming mental distress. Such turmoil is the product of a rather massive ego taking a blow twice its size.

Thunder rumbles, echoing through the trees as rain soaks the wool of the koala-sheep. The camera pans in on the pathetic creature and then it quickly pans out because, have you seen a wet koala!? Those things are horrifying. What is more horrifying is a koala that is also a sheep.

For the sake of a good story, the camera pans back in. The koala-sheep continues to weep to herself as the downpour intensifies. Beneath the jungle’s canopy and with such a heavy curtain of rain, the koala-sheep resides in the semi-dark upon a miniature island--a small hill surrounded by floodwater.

She looks up at the camera, but does not see it. She is alone. Completely and totally isolated beneath a fluttering curtain of spanish moss and dangling ivies.

But this is not where our story beings, dear readers. The story begins in a much more opulent setting. There is a montage here, but our main character isn’t much of a dancer and, despite her graceful firebending, she had tripped during its filming so the montage was cut.  

And so we begin with two old women. Lo looks up at Azula. Azula who is a human being and not a very emotionally tormented koala-sheep. “Fire Lord Azula, it is time to choose your husband.”

“Every Fire Lord needs a harem.” Li adds.

Azula glowers down from her seat. As nice as a harem sounds, her options are limited to Kei Lo, Jet, Chan, Sokka, and Zuko. Azula narrows her eyes at Zuko. “Is this the line for the bathroom?” he asks.

“No.” Lo answers.

“It is the line…” Li adds.

“To be your sister’s husband.” They finish together.

Zuko’s face scrunches in disgust. “These poor men.” He shows himself out.

Azula climbs down from her perch to inspect the miscreants more closely. “I don’t like your face.” She says of Kei Lo. “You are a fuckboi, too much testosterone, and let me guess, you’ve got a good sense of humor.” She points at Jet, Chan, and Sokka in turn. She turns back to Lo and Li, “is this really all you have for me?” She doesn’t see TyLee in this group of suitors.

“Well, we could have done better.” Lo admits.

“But there was a doilie convention in the capital.” Li continues.

“We just had to attend.” Lo confesses and holds up a small, oblong  doilie made of red lace.

“It will be perfect for our sacrificial alter.” Li adds.

“Your what?” Azula quirks a brow, suddenly rather intrigued.

“Our coffee table.” They say in unison.

“Red lace goes nice with polished cherrywood.” Li points out.

“And it will go wonderfully with our ritual dagg--our ruby encrusted teacups.” Lo flashes a toothless smile.

While they ramble on and on, trying to keep their occult practices a secret, it is best to show you readers our other main character. One of the several people involved in dismantling the Fire Lord’s life as she had known it.

Her name is Yoiko, some time ago she had been the servant specifically designated to hold up a bowl of cherries for the Fire Lord. That is still her job but she has been furloughed because the Fire Lord has found out that cherries aren’t supposed to make your mouth burn and your throat close up. She has yet to decide on another fruit to replace the cherries that she is allergic too. Mangos are too large and grapes are cliche.

Newly unemployed, Yoiko finds her way back to the Fire Nation palace. She clears her throat, “Excuse me. I'm here to see Fire Lord Azula. You see, this morning I received an order to…”

The guard cuts him off. “She’s waiting in her throne room. Up six flights of stairs, make three lefts, and then take another flight of stairs down one floor, grab a knife from the kitchen, hand it to Lo and Li, and…”

“I’m not here for the ritual. And I know how to get to the throne room.”

“Right, yes.” The guard replies with an awkward cough.

As Yokio passes she nearly trips over a cabbage.

“My cabbages!” He declares.

Yoiko, deciding to earn herself some virtue points so that she may look holier than thou, picks up the cabbage and hands it to the man with a kind, “here you go.” Though it might just be that she is actually a genuinely nice person.

“Thank you.” The cabbage merchant says.

“You're welcome.” Yoiko smiles. She has to smile before she speaks with Azula and finds herself unable to smile for the next week or so. “Are you okay?” She asks the merchant. “What happened?” Yoiko expects to hear a story about how the merchant had thrown off Azula’s groove. Heaven knows, she has run into quite some trouble for accidentally interrupting Azula’s very rigid daily routines.  

Instead the man says, “I ran into the Avatar.” He shudders. “Evil, evil little arrow headed, ‘pacifist’, monk. And that lemur…” he shudders with a deeper chill coursing through him. “It’s beady little eyes, they stare into your soul. And have you heard its chitters, they’re like the screams of a thousand cabbages.”

Yoiko blinks, she has never heard a cabbage scream. “Well I’m going to see the Fire Lord, not the Avatar.”

“Don’t look into its eyes!”

“I’ve looked into her eyes before.” Yoiko shrugs. “Several times. Most of the time they’re all judgemental and…”

“No! Not the Fire Lord’s! The lemur’s!”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you need help collecting the rest of your cabbages? I have a few minutes before I need to speak with the Fire Lord.” Yoiko offers.

Azula finds her never ending supply of kindness rather appalling. She does not see this small act of kindness, but she senses it. She senses it and it chills her to the core. But nothing is more chilling than our next character.

“And what brings you to the palace?” Zhao asks.

“Well, your highness, I mean...wait, what is your title?” Asks the peasant.

Zhao scowls. A scowl that Azula has long since grown to resent. She looks upon it as she enters the throne room, her throne room. It is a hideous scowl that nearly draw attention away from his obnoxiously groomed sideburns and his collection of wrinkles. Admiral Zhao potantly reminds Azula that man is descended from monkeys. What is more is that the man looks like a corpse. He has the pallor and droopy eyes of one. Next to him stands former Fire Lord Ozai. He had lost to Aang during Sozin’s comet while Azula had won her Agni Kai. Fully anticipating to beat a twelve year old marshmallow of a boy, Ozai had handed his daughter his former title. Decidedly, if he couldn’t manage to beat a twelve year old, he is not fit to run the Fire Nation. So Azula had kept the title for herself and her father could do nothing about it save for snarl at her and remind her that the Avatar will come to dethrone her shortly and put Zuko on the throne. What Ozai is unaware of is that Zuzu does not want the throne, he has a musical career to think about  and she has already made a deal with the Avatar to keep him from being a pest.

Azula has noticed that her father, brimming with resentment, has suddenly grown  rather fond of Zhao. Zhao who goes through right hand men like Zuko goes through hyperfixations. Azula imagines that Ozai will be tossed aside by the time Zuko finishes his mumble rap obsession.

Azula looks from Zhao to the peasant that he is currently quarreling with.  

“But I need food and shelter, I have six children!”

This is the kind of dispute that is usually brought to Azula so that she may dismiss the needy man. Instead, Zhao steals what should have been her line, “you should have thought of that before you became peasants!” He adds a devilish chuckle for good measure before dismissing the man.

“Peasants are tiresome.” Azula remarks, “it’s a shame you don’t have someone else to deal with them, right?”

“Absolutely correct!” Zhao agrees.

Azula clears her throat. “That would be me, Zhao. Your Fire Lord. The one who gets to call people peasants.”

Zhao cuts her a nervous glance. “Right, yes, your majesty.” But Azula has heard more than enough. “You see, it isn’t such a big deal, I was just trying to, ah, free up your busy schedule, so you can go out and have fun with your friends.”

Azula’s eyes narrow. “I like my busy schedule and this is fun for me. There is nothing funner than telling peasants that their needs mean nothing and that their gods can’t protect them from me.” She leaves out that she no longer has friends.

One of Azula’s servants emerges, “Yoiko is here to speak with you.”

“Lovely.” She smiles. This is the very peasant she has been hoping to terrorize. “And you can show yourself out, you are fired!” She holds her chin up and folds her arms over her chest. She has banished far too many people, so this time she will settle for only firing Zhao. Her eyes narrow further as she recalls that she had banished Lo. And further still when she recalls that Zhao is supposed to be dead. She squints at the man; yes he is supposed to be dead. That might explain why he looks like something ten years deceased.

Yes, she has made the right decision in firing him.

“But, princes--Fire Lord Azula, I have been more than loyal to the Fire Nation for decades…”

She thinks that it might have been a few centuries. She looks upon that appalling face, yes definitely centuries.

“I even destroyed the moon…”

“In other words, you have had your moment of glory, it is time to show yourself out.” She looks upon her throne. “You’re even sitting on my throne!”

“I was just keeping it warm for you!”

Azula scowls for nothing is worse than sitting upon a chair that radiates the warmth of someone else’s buttocks. She thinks that this warrants banishment but she is in a merciful mood. “Go on, get out, I’ve got peasant matters to deal with.”

Perhaps she would have banished him if she had known what was to come.

[beautifully-tuan]

for my dream - 2

Mark Tuan x Reader arranged marriage!au , angst, eventual fluff word count: 1920

Masterlist ; Part 1

As soon as Mark gave his agreement, you were named CEO of your father’s company. It should have been the happiest day of your life, since you’ve always wanted this position, but you didn’t want it like this. Yet, as much as you hated this situation, you couldn’t say no, because it was the only way to save the company. If only your stupid brother hadn’t let his stupid girlfriend pry into the family business... She wouldn’t have scammed your father and Mark’s family, leaving the empire they’ve built to the critical state it’s in now. And, cherry on top, your father had initially planned to name your brother as the CEO. You opposed to his decision, reminding him that this whole mess was because of your brother himself. Things could only get worse if you let him step over. You couldn’t let the already declining business fall into such incompetent hands. With the energy of despair, you told your father you were qualified enough to take the lead, to which your father couldn’t argue. Everything you’ve ever done revolved around this company. Your brother was less than incompetent, and you were more than qualified.

And then the marriage deal came up. You knew it would lead to something like that, considering how complex the structure of the company is. The official account, which includes all the company’s acts and budget, is registered in Mark’s family’s name. It’s always been that way: your family deals with management and negotiations, while Mark’s family takes care of everything financial and investments related. Your and Mark’s father being CEO and co-CEO since the company was founded, that’s never been a problem. But due to recent events, and with the need of a new CEO, the latter should be able to run both sides of the company. If your brother had gotten this position, it would’ve been easy to convince the bank for a transfer of account. It’s always been highly considered for a man to run a company. However, you are a woman, and that makes it way more difficult. Nobody would take you seriously and your decisions on the use of the company’s funds would be limited, and that would only make everything worse. The only way to avoid such a disaster is to merge both families into one, so you can have legal access to the account no matter what. That’s why there’s no other alternative for you than to marry Mark. Your father made it clear to you that it was the only condition. You wanted to refuse, God knows you wanted to. But again, you couldn’t. Although you could feel your heart break inside your chest, you agreed.

As selfish as that was, you secretly hoped Mark would say no. If waiting for his response felt like agony, you considered yourself dead when he said yes. Without further awaiting, you took over the company and immediately started to clean after your brother’s mess, while preparing the wedding at the same time. Everyone said you weren’t obligated to help with the preparations, but you did it anyway, and it was honestly a living hell. You didn’t know what you were expecting from Mark in the first place, but he didn’t even try to be a little bit supportive. He despised you, it was written all over his face, and you could understand why. Although you could’ve put up a fight with him for acting as if he was the only one suffering from this situation, you felt too bad for him, so you let him be.

Mark acts no different during the wedding ceremony and reception a few weeks later. He makes a little effort to put on a make-believe happiness in public, and you’re thankful for that, but he’s still dripping with resent and sadness. It’s only normal after all, he doesn’t gain much from this arrangement compared to everything he loses. You both try to put on a good show for all the important personalities attending your wedding, then you head back to your house immediately after it’s finished. You and Mark decided to live in a rather big house, with two bedrooms. Of course, you decided to sleep in separate beds. Actually, to make everything easier for both of you, you separated everything, like roommates would. You would have your own life, and he would have his. He could continue with his job, and you would take care of the company, that’s it. The only requirement between the two of you was to, at least, pretend to be happily married when you were in public.

These rules established, you thought your life would go on as normal, the only difference being your new position and responsibilities in the company. What you didn’t expect was for Mark to still take care of you. Not as a husband, of course, but in subtle ways that you can’t ignore. When he makes dinner, he makes sure to leave some for you to eat when you get home after work. When he goes grocery shopping, he buys stuff for both of you. When you’re not around, he does some cleaning. It’s not rare that he texts you to ask at what time you’re getting home so he can make his plans without bothering you. It’s crazy to you how someone can be mad at you and still take care of you like this, even though he has no obligations towards you. You really wish you could repay him, but there’s not much you can do since you’re at work most of the time and only come home super late at night. You offer to take turns washing the dishes, to which he agrees, but he ends up doing most of it anyways because of your tight schedule. Despite not having the highest opinion of you, he still does all those things because that’s just how good of a person he is.

As incredible as it seems – and as much as you hate to admit it – you’ve grown attached to Mark. Although he barely ever talks to you, you appreciate his little actions a bit more than you should. You even finding yourself daydreaming about what you and Mark would be like together in another life... But daydreams are all about it. You can’t let these feelings take over, because he obviously doesn’t feel the same way. Quite frankly, it might even be the opposite. He seems to have gotten over himself, but still despises you and wishes you hadn’t ruined his life, and that is enough for you to keep your feelings a secret. You’ve mastered the art of repressing your emotions, ever since you were a child, to maintain a certain image. Everyone around you says that bottling things inside is not healthy for you, but you don’t care. With all of your responsibilities, you don’t need to deal with your conflicted emotions on top of that. So you live your life like this for the following months, being as strong as you can. That is until, one night, you inevitably break.

For a woman your age, being a CEO is a lot of pressure. You are in a rowboat barely floating in the middle of the sea, and financial partners and stakeholders are sharks trying to capsize it. They’re constantly pressuring you, aiming for your breaking point, trying to make you bend before them so they can steal your power. Your daily life is composed of disguised threats and improper remarks, added to tons and tons of work and the tiredness that comes with them, and the sadness of coming home to an empty house, without anyone to talk to. Today was just the straw that broke the camel. A representant of your company’s number one competitor came in to talk to you. The lady, like everyone else, was sent to pressure you. You handled the situation perfectly, as usual, until she said:

- “Well... Where’s your husband? I believe he also has some latitude in this company, right. How come we never see him around?”

Normally, you wouldn’t care. But, with the way she said it, you started to worry. She was clearly implying that she – and probably many other people – are fully aware that your marriage is fake, and that they’re going to use that to their advantage.

That thought is still on your mind when you step into your house, exhausted. You slip out of your shoes and jacket, throw your bag onto the table and slump down on the sofa, not even bothering to turn on the lights. How long can you keep up like this? How can you stop them from using your marriage, the only thing you have no control on, against you? And who are you even going to tell all of this? It’s not like you have a lot of friends, and you don’t want to seem weak to the eyes of your family, since you’re the one who fought so hard to get here. But is this really what you wanted? Will you ever be able to keep your promise and save this company? Your insecurities hit you so hard that you break into tears. You let go of months of pent up frustration and sadness, so overwhelmed by your emotions and crying so much that you don’t even hear the front door opening and the lights being turned on.

Mark finds you there, crying your heart out and struggling to breathe. He immediately pours some water into a glass and brings it to you, but you don’t even notice it.

- “Hey, hey, Y/N look at me” he says, trying catch your attention.

His voices rings inside your ears and you try to look up, barely processing what’s happening.

- “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Talk to me.”

His genuinely worried tone makes you feel so safe that, without thinking twice, you immediately start talking. You tell him absolutely everything. Mark listens to you, holds your hand, brings you more water when your glass is empty. He’s so kind and understanding that it takes everything in you not to tell him about your growing feelings for him. After you’re finished, he gives you some great advice and demands that you never keep your problems to yourself like that again.

Since that night, every time you come home, Mark starts asking questions. He asks how you’re doing and how your day has been, asks you to talk about your problems and what you’re planning to do about them. That’s how you and Mark, after seven months of being married, became friends. Mark is determined to make you feel less lonely. He even starts getting himself involved in your work, even if it’s just a tiny little bit. He often passes by your workplace and brings you lunch, making sure he arrives at the exact time you’re having meetings with all those annoying people, just to show them that he’s there and that you’re not alone. If you used to appreciate Mark’s efforts, you’ve come to appreciate his very presence. You cherish the moments you spend with him, even the smallest ones, from small talks around the living room to movie nights on weekends. Your new relationship with your husband makes you feel uncertain. You can’t really tell if it makes things easier or harder for you, because the only thing you’re certain of right now is that you’ve fallen in love with him.

Part 3

a/n: hiii and thanks for reading the second chapter to this series. what do you think of this new chapter? it was tough to write tbh, especially trying to explain the reason behind the arranged marriage. I tried to make it as realistic as possible though. I really REALLY hope you’re enjoying the story so far. Happy holidays and love you all. 💖

[city-of-angel]

Dear Self,

H+1 [sry for being late]

Yeah! Hmm, where do I start? Let’s talk about you!

Congratulations on your reborn! There are 3 important sections that we probably should talk about last year. 

Section 1:

GRACE

Yes, we talked about grace, you mentioned it in the last year’s ‘letter to myself’ that you want to find your grace. You want to be remembered as you, the real you, not the girl who’s been lost. Oh my god, that sounds desperate. Yeah, you sound like a desperate person last year, which is true. Just because you lost your purpose and benchmark of what ideal life is. But month by month, nature spoke to you back. And that feels damn good, when you let go of the negative thought! And yeah, you did go to a therapist once, because you can’t hold the pressure. You loved your job so much, your friends too much, you want to continue to run but you don’t have any energy left. Kinda feel like that! And THANK YOU mostly for my Crewmate for trusting me! HOWEVER, 2020 shocked me more than once. God tested you to give a reaction to an uncomfortable situation. And it kinda personal so you would not share it in detail. But..mmm, in short, you have all the choice and opportunity to drag someone to hell but you prefer not. Because., you already have your grace. Even, you help them up, build their mental health back, cheer them up, listen to them, and give a very honest + positive suggestion and motivation. And you do that for yourself, not for anyone. Because you are you, the real you. Which is good. I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!! REALLY!

Post Credits:

You have found yourself wiser than ever. You are a happy person and you have found your peace without dropping your crown. You are always the Queen, the Princess, and the Silly Girl. 

Reminder:

Always be brave to speak up about your opinion. To share your POV. To be kind without judgment. To be free from world misery by sharing your wisdom and kind words and action. You are not what people did you. You are you. 

Section 2:

VISION

This is gold. Dream. Idea. Destination.Vision. You of all the people in the world who has sooooo many beautiful dreams. There are so many that you want to do. You can feel it like ‘This is your time’. Someone told you that you refer to ‘Death’ Card of Tarot Major Arcana. Why death, you said? ISN’T THAT BAD! To create or manifest something new and pure, you have to die first. Then you reborn as a new person -pure, with a new lifestyle and healthier thought, and a clear head. You feel like it might be the year when your head is so clear like really crystal clear. I mean it was not about improvement. But it was a new thing. You do a lot of yoga last year which makes you improve your inner balance. On your daily exercise, you keep focusing on your destination and you start making day by day plan to reach that destination. To make that vision become the real purpose, not only imaginary. They said if you want to have something. Make it specific, think about it, feel it, plan about it, do progress about it. And every single time you thinking deeply about it, your subconscious will be trying to find the way for you. It will find the answer you are looking for. Do you remember that night? When you were crying because you were so tired of working? But you know you enjoyed and it was kinda slight burnout thing that night but you told yourself that: IN THE END, you will smile and laugh about it. This is only a night. Keep going on. And yeah it was a magical moment when something on your head become something that everyone can see and appreciate, it was from every drop of sweat and sugary drink that keep you up for thinking. I think what the wise man said was true: Opportunity is not luck. Luck is not an opportunity. Luck is when opportunity meets your readiness. So don’t wait for that opportunity to get yourself ready. Be ready first and it will come to you. Manifesting. 

Post Credits:

You made people invest in your thought, which is so illuminated on some point. Thank you sugary drink! You invest your calories to our benefit! Ha!

Reminder:

Don’t get too oversoaked about it. This is a new beginning. You will be tired, out of an idea, and out of place. Take a nap, a day rest, watch something, talk to someone. REST. This is a new path for you that might be a way to open a greater path, so don’t act off guard! 

Section 3:

TRUTH

You always want to feel something. You always want to feel. You always try to find a way to feel something. A good ending. A smooth process. A fairy tale. A good one. But in the truth, there’s always an obstacle. There’s always something’s wrong. You asked yourself “ What did I do? Why I deserved this”, The answer is not about what you did, but how?. The happy ending is intriguing stupid BUT what on criteria you will claim something like a happy ending?. You need to always set your optimism high, you need to dream high because it will triggers your move. When you want to go to the moon, you will build a rocket. When you want to go to the next city, you will build a car. That’s pretty simple. Your action is based on how much you invest and commit to your destination. BUT why the happy ending is stupid? BECAUSE sometimes we never admit or we NEVER REALLY CALCULATE that the worst obstacle will be there, the storm will be there, the burglar will be there. And the most important thing is ABOUT HOW YOU’RE GONNA DO ABOUT IT! Yes, ofc you have to be realistic and accept that probably shit will happen, there’s always a probability. Sometimes, you lower your standard just because you are too insecure and you are just afraid, you have no plan! You think like “Ahh whatever just see what happens later” NO! This year you realize that is a pretty wrong way. Lemme tell you something! THE TRUTH is that a happy ending is not a  destination. The happy ending is enjoying the process, hustling your best, preparing for the worst, and be responsible for your choice. That is a happy ending, dear. Life without regret until the very end. 

Post Credits:

It was amazing seeing you grew. You are the bravest person, the greatest person. One day you will see these words back. Maybe one year later or more if you’re not forgetiing this.  And you will smile because you know you are your own choice. 

Reminder:

You have all the choice in the world. No one gonna picks it for you. You have all the right, all the time in this world to live the life you choose. Remember that. 

BONUS SECTION:

GRATITUDE

Thank God, for letting me live in your cosmos.

Thanks for my family, to be there for me, even sometimes I’m easily stressing out at home and being sassy to you all. I am so sorry and grateful at the same time.

Thanks to Crewmate, amazing team, amazing experience. Thanks for letting me grow with you.

Thanks to My Friends across the world, thanks for sharing your time and let me see your glow and your flaw. Thanks for being my reflection

Thanks to Project Team, trusting me is a gamble right? But here we go, this is our new beginning

last but very not least,

Thanks to my muse, for making me realize that I always can be happy, sad, laugh, cry, drag down, reborn, glowing, loving, loved, resent, broken...almost. Everything. I can go thru it without you. But why am I always searching for something? In my room, in a public place, at 3 AM, every buffer and in missing beat on the song. Why am I always searching for something? Because hope is evil and sweet. Maybe we are poetry to each other in our encounter. And the purpose of your existence is still a mystery to me. Thank you. You are the music to my ear, always be a closure to my poem.

TO ANOTHER GREAT YEAR AHEAD.

THANK YOU, SELF.

[solartranslations]

VF Ash Chapter 4: Closing the Distance

She hurt Ash. Will her heartfelt words reach the lone “magician”…

Gli Amanti: Good evening, Ojou-san. I am the Major Arcana that dwells within you, “Gli Amanti”

Gli Amanti: “Il Bagatto” seems to resent you quite a bit now. I apologize, as my powers may have been the cause

Gli Amanti: As “La Morte” says, my pure-hearted master

Gli Amanti: I wish for you to help those who have been hurt

Gli Amanti: Once you do, the bond between the two of you will allow me to lend you my power…Fortuna’s powers are not to be used lightly after all

Gli Amanti: This will be a small way for you to atone for hurting him

Gli Amanti: When we are hosted in the living…we may cause trouble at times, but we display the characteristics our cards in their upright positions…

Gli Amanti: But should we be hosted in the dead…we will become inverted…and this is not our proper form

Gli Amanti: And that is the cause of “La Giustizia”’s current state…it should be a power that full of light, but now it is a mere shadow if itself and that is saddening to see

Gli Amanti: Please help them, and the lone “Il Bagatto” as well, my kind Ojou-san

~*Scene: VF Deck*~

Nova: Liberta. What evidence do you have that he’ll be on the deck?

Liberta: That’s where we usually go! When people who live at sea are in a bad mood, they usually go there. Especially children!

Nova: *sigh*…That’s not evidence. Isn’t that more of your intuition?

Liberta: Huh? Is it?

Liberta: See, look over there Ojou!

❤≪Liberta≫ Seems excited

Place: I knew it!

Person: Ojou, I was right

>Ash! Please come down!!

>I don’t think he’ll come down if I ask…

Ash: ……

Liberta: Huh!? Don’t tell me you’re going to climb up there?

Nova: With those boots!?

~*Flashback: VF Ash’s Cabin Deck 2*~

Ash: I want to save Joshua as soon as I can

Ash: Does that mean everything you’ve said up until now is just you repeating whatever you saw in my heart?

Ash: This makes me sick…you steal and spy into my heart…Arcana Famiglia seriously is a criminal organization

Ash: I was right to bring the Tarocco back to this ship. It’s impossible for people like you to not have any regrets

~*End Flashback*~

Felicita: *dash*

(*creak)

Liberta: Ojou, don’t! I’ll lower it so just wait!

Nova: Idiot, don’t look up!

(*shaky)

Liberta: But it’s dangerous for Ojou if I don’t keep watch!! Ahh! Nosebleed!

Nova: You’re so immature…

(*creak creak)

(*climbs up)

>Ash, look at me so I can apologize

(+30 Amore)

>I’m sorry

(+20 Amore)

>……

(-10 Amore)

Ash: …Huh?

Ash: You think apologizing is all it takes?

Ash: Forgiving you doesn’t help me at all, and it doesn’t feel genuine either

(Skip the next dialogue choice box)

Ash: ……*sigh*

Ash: You think I’ll just talk to you if you keep quiet?

(Skip the next dialogue choice box)

❤≪Ash≫ Seems irritated ❤≪Ash≫ Doesn’t seem interested ❤≪Ash≫ Seems irritated

Person: You’re looking in my heart anyway, aren’t you?

Person: Just look and be disappointed

???: I can’t see very well here

Person: Just look and be disappointed

Person: I can’t trust what you say

???: I can’t see very well here

Person: So she’s just going to stay quiet

Person: What a joke

???: I can’t see very well here

>I’m sorry for looking into your heart

(+20 Amore)

>I regret looking in your heart without permission

(No Amore)

Ash: …And?

Ash: Then regret it by yourself…

~*Flashback: VF Ash’s Cabin Deck 2*~

Ash: Show me your stigmata

Ash: I see…If you won’t show me then I guess you don’t want to apologize

~*End Flashback*~

Felicita: …

>…I want you to understand, so I’ll prove it…

(No Amore)

>I’m not making excuses, I came to tell you that

(+20 Amore)

Ash: What do you mean?

Ash: Tell me…?

❤≪Ash≫ Seems confused ❤≪Ash≫ Seems concerned

Person: What’s she going to do?

Person: …What a joke

???: I can’t see very well here

Person: What’s she going to do?

Person: …What a joke

???: I can’t see very well here

Felicita: …

(*unties) (*unbuttons)

>I won’t read your heart. So please listen to me

(+15 Amore)

>I want you to answer me in your own words too

(+30 Amore)

>Now you can tell if I’m using my powers

(No Amore)

Ash: It was…there

Ash: Your stigmata…

Ash: Yeah…I can tell but…

Ash: Why are you going so far?

Ash: I took my feelings out on you too! Didn’t that hurt!?

~*Flashback: VF Ash’s Cabin Deck 2*~

Nova: Couldn’t you take this as an opportunity to reflect on using your powers in thoughtless ways?

Nova: We live on our little island…surrounded by a small population of people that understand us

Nova: You shouldn’t think of that as a given

~*End Flashback*~

Felicita: …

>You made me rethink how I use my powers…I’m grateful for that

(+20 Amore)

>I don’t think I would have realized if I didn’t have someone to tell me

(No Amore)

Ash: You sure are honest. That didn’t sound fake at all

Ash: …The hell…You have even more honor than me

Ash: I really was the one in the wrong

Ash: Someone to tell you…

Ash: Yeah. I’ve had my dad and Joshua tell me off about stuff before too

Ash: I hurt you by saying all those things without thinking about your situation too…I’m sorry

Ash: Felicita, I’m moved by your courage

Ash: …And I want give you a proper answer…

Ash: When he died, I promised my father that I would protect this ship

Ash: This ship is a place where souls with regrets caused by the Tarocco can rest when they can’t go to heaven

Ash: And until they can find their way…it’s my family’s duty to watch over them…

Ash: It’s because I made that promise, that my dad was able to leave this ship behind

Ash: I told you about the alchemist who made the Tarocco, right?

Ash: That alchemist took responsibility by making this ship and passed it on to us

Ash: …My dad always sounded so proud when he talked about it…

Ash: And Joshua will also be a passenger on this ship until he disappears

Ash: I have a duty to protect my passengers, and I also think of him as family

>Arcana Famiglia will be victorious

(No Amore)

>Then fight me, and show me that you’re serious!

(+20 Amore)

Ash: Yeah, I get it

Ash: I will…you better not regret this

Ash: If I win, you’ll help me

Ash: If you win…I’ll return the Tarocco. Deal?

Felicita: Yeah

Ash: Then let’s head to the deck

Ash: Sorry…come down after you fix your clothes

~*Scene: VF Deck*~

Nova: It’s great that they worked it out, but why do they have to fight afterwards…

Liberta: Idiot, this is how you avoid future arguments! It makes sense to do what the winner says after they both give it their all!

Nova: But, she’s Papa’s daughter!

Liberta: Yeah! That’s exactly why she would do this!

Nova: …I guess you’re right. It’ll be fine. If she happens to lose, then I’ll just fight him

Liberta: That’s my job! Oh…they’re starting

Ash: So you’re not going to let your friends help you…are you that confident?

❤≪Ash≫ Seems concerned

Link: It was hard to have my trust betrayed

Person: You can’t know unless it’s with one of the living

Link: That’s why…

>There’s no point if it isn’t one on one

(+10 Amore)

>I want to win against you

(+20 Amore)

Ash: Hah…I’ve never met someone like you before

Ash: You’ve peaked my interest

Ash: I’m the one who’s going to win

Ash: …I’m the one who needs to win!

❤≪Ash≫ Seems thrilled ❤≪Ash≫ Seems thrilled

Daily: I’m going to fulfill my goal my way

Person: This is getting interesting

Link: You’re going to help me with Joshua

Daily: I’m going to take back my pride

Link: You’re going to help me with Joshua

Daily: Yeah…

Felicita: …

Ash: …Let’s do this…

❤≪Ash≫ Seems thrilled

Daily: Right now, all I’m going to do—is fight!

(*glare) Ash: I won’t hold back…!! Alright!?

Dodge!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

Felicita: *dodge*

(*whack) Felicita: Ah!

(*slide)

(*bam!) Ash: I’ll end this now!!

(*dodge)

Felicita: Hya!

Attack!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

(*whack) Ash: Ug!

(*dodge) Ash: Haah!

(*shing)

Ash: When I…turn into a tiger, I lose my senses after a period of time…

(*whish) Ash: …My dad’s life ended by my claws…

Dodge!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

Felicita: *dodge*

(*whack) Felicita: Ah!

(*whoosh) Ash: By the time my dad fed me an apple…my hands were covered in blood…

(*step) Ash: And my father’s leg was bleeding badly…

(*whish) Felicita: Hya!

Attack!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

(*whack) Ash: Guh…

(*dodge) Ash: That won’t hit!!

(*glare) Ash: That’s when I promised him…!!

~*Flashback: VF Cabin*~

Sergey: Ash, you don’t need to cry anymore. You’re all grown up, right?

Sergey: If you have time to cry, then go peel me an apple

Ash: But Dad…I, I…

Sergey: Come on, it’s amazing that you can turn into a tiger. Right, Joshua?

Sergey: When he made the tiger transformation elixir a year ago, I thought he was a genius

Joshua: Yes. Ash, you possess extraordinary talent

Ash: Then I’ll use that talent to heal you…

Sergey: You can’t, Ash. This injury won’t heal. Soon, my life will come to an end

Ash: Dad…no!

Sergey: Then promise me

Sergey: Promise me that you’ll watch over the passengers of this ship in my place

Ash: Dad…

Sergey: You’re mastering your alchemy skills so you can take over this ship someday, right?

Sergey: Keep the flame in the power reactor burning. Joshua will be with you, so I have no regrets

Ash: Dad, what about my future…?

Sergey: Don’t worry. You have your promise with me. And Joshua will see it through

Joshua: That’s quite a responsibility…I’m dead, you know

Sergey: Joshua…I have a request

~*End Flashback*~

Ash: Haaah…!!

Felicita: *dodge*

(*whish)

Attack!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

(*slash) Ash: Guh…

(*clang) Ash: Where are you aiming those!? They won’t hit!!

Ash: The sun’s…going down

Ash: We’ve got to settle this…

Ash: I’ll unleash the power of the great Vir Ingeniosus

Ash: Miracolo di Nascita

(*whack) Felicita: Ah!

(*stands)

(*running) Ash: Take this!

Ash: …Uwah!!

Felicita: …/p>

(*step) (*dash)

(*whoosh) Felicita: Hyah!

Attack!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

(*whack) Ash: Guh…agh!

(*dodge) Ash: …!!

Ash: Daaaamn it!! Strawberry Heaaad!!

(*spark)

Felicita: *glare*

(*bam!) Felicita: Hyah!

Ash: …Ugaaaah!!

(*grab) (*slash)

Ash: Guh…ahhhh!

(*shaky) Ash: The hell…Felicita, you’re actually pretty strong…I really thought I was going to win…

❤≪Ash≫ Seems shocked

Link: I wasn’t planning on losing…

Place: I’ll do something about the ship with my powers

Person: Now what…

>I’ll thank you in advance for the Tarocco

(+10 Amore)

>You made me a promise too

(+30 Amore)

Ash: ……What do you mean?

Ash: Yeah…I’ll give you back the Tarocco

❤≪Ash≫ Seems shocked ❤≪Ash≫ Seems concerned

Arcana: I don’t understand

Arcana: I’ll return the Tarocco

Link: I can trust her with it

(*shine) Liberta: Ojou! You did it!

❤≪Liberta≫ Seems excited

Pleasure: Of course she would!

Arcana: And now…

Nova: So, now what do we do?

❤≪Nova≫ Seems concerned

Link: This result is only natural

Arcana: I can guess what she’s going to say

>We’ll return the “Justice” Tarocco to normal

(No Amore)

>Let’s go see Joshua

(+10 Amore)

Ash: You…

Nova: Right. It’s a problem we have to fix

Ash: What…

Liberta: Well, that’s what you asked Ojou right?

❤≪Ash≫ Seems confused ❤≪Ash≫ Seems confused

Arcana: What…

Arcana: What…

❤≪Nova≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Liberta≫ Seems excited

Daily: As expected

Arcana: But it is necessary

Person: They’re on different levels

Daily: Well, we’ll just do what we can!

Felicita: *smile*

Ash: Thank you…Felicita

❤≪Ash≫ Seems concerned

Link: Does that mean…we’re friends now?

Person: I’m grateful

~*End of Scene*~

Special Voice obtained. It can be heard in the Profile section

(Continue to Ash Chapter 5)

(Back to Directory)

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

How Cute

Part of the Tsuredure Seventeen series

Summary:

Everyone is always calling you cute. You hate that. Sure you do a lot of cute things but people always use it as a way to belittle you and you hate it so much.

But, well, if Lee Chan wants to call you cute you suppose that’s okay.

-

There were few things in life that you didn’t like.

You were, for the most part, a bit of an oddball. You were rather patient. Uncharacteristically so in fact. 

You liked your job, you liked pretty much all people. You were a passionate baker, taking the time to find the best recipes and then execute them in the most precise ways possible.

As such, you spent a lot of time experimenting with things. You were used to failure, to feeling disappointed, and most importantly used to have to start over from scratch.

All things that generally frustrated people were things that you participated in every day, multiple times a day in order to maintain the best results possible. Something sweet. Something moist. Something perfect.

Your baking expertise often translated over into your daily life.

You couldn’t have conversations over and over again but you could hope that after all the times you added the eggs and flour you could remember exactly what to add in order to make the perfect conversation.

Your relationships were as such very sensitive. If you accidentally baked the cake for too long it would burn. If you didn’t bake it for long enough you couldn’t feed it to others.

You were meticulous when it came to baking. You sacrificed your night's sleep in order to bake the perfect cake and weren’t afraid to stay home for as long as necessary to ensure that every ingredient was combined perfectly.

Again, it was the same for you when it came to your relationships. You sacrificed so much to keep your friends by your side. Your time, your money, your everything. No matter how inconvenient something was for you, if your friends needed it done, you would get it done.

Because you learned how to bake before you learned how to make friends, and while you knew that a cake would spoil after sitting too long, you knew friendships were meant to last if maintained properly.

You cherished your friendships as much as anyone did, but still, sometimes your friends made you mad.

Like when they called you cute.

It was such a small thing. You knew that other friendships had broken up over less, and honestly over all your anger towards them calling you cute was ridiculous but it was such a degrading word.

You had been called cute all your life. By people who didn’t know you, and by people who did. Any guy around you who wanted to do something that wasn’t platonic and wasn’t romantic either would call you cute as a pick-up line. If people wanted to compliment your looks but couldn’t find the right word to fit your appearance they always defaulted to cute.

And then your friends started calling you cute. When you did something dumb like trip or drop something, you were cute. When you said something stupid you were cute. When you got passionate over something your friends didn’t know much about you were cute. When you dressed a little different then everyone else you were cute.

No matter what you did, no matter what you said, no matter how you acted, or dressed, or did anything you were cute.

God, you were so sick of it. To the point where it took all you had in you to keep from angrily telling the next person who dared to call you cute to your face to shut their stupid mouths.

The school bell rang and you began to pack your things, trying not to think too much about how angry you had been just a second ago. You were just letting small things fester, there was no need to worry so much about something that in the end just wasn’t that important.

“Hey, there cutie, how’s it hanging?”

Cutie.

The word registered in your mind before the voice did. You turned around, half a glare spread over your face when you suddenly saw who had said it in the first place.

The rage died, your anger all but disappeared, and suddenly the nickname you hated so much was less of a hindrance, and more of a comfort.

“Lee Chan,” you said as a greeting. A short smile crossed your lips. “I thought-”

Before you could finish, Chan was flicking you in the forehead.

“Just call me Chan. How many times do I have to tell you that?” He asked an annoyed expression spreading over his face. “C-h-a-n, Chan. It’s not that hard.”

Chan was a friend of yours.

Now that was exciting to say.

For three years he’d just been another classmate. One of your cutest classmates. and you didn’t mean that in the degrading way most people meant when they were talking about you.

Chan had this way of always knowing what to say or do to make someone laugh. He was attractive and nice, and one of the friendliest people you knew. He was just quiet at first. He kept mostly to himself, even when he was with his friends, so at first, most people assumed he didn’t have much of a personality and was therefore expendable.

You had always resented that enough for him. Nobody was expendable. When making buttercream you couldn’t leave out a single ingredient if you wanted to make the perfect frosting. Without butter, it wasn’t buttercream. Without powdered sugar, it wasn’t sweet. No component in any friend group, classroom, or public setting was expendable, because without any one person it just wasn’t the same.

And Lee Chan was the perfect example of that. He was just the kind of person everyone needed in life, and most people had no clue.

“Lee Chan just rolls off the tongue more easily,” you responded defiantly.

For crying out loud, you didn’t call Strawberry Cheesecake, just cheesecake. It left out one of the most important details. Strawberry. You couldn’t just call Lee Chan, Chan when he wasn’t just that. He was all of the components put together.

“Well make it roll off the tongue less easily. You address me like a stranger. I walk up to people and I say this is my friend, y/n, and you say ‘hi. I’m Lee Chan’s friend’ and suddenly it sounds like I hired you,” he protested. As he spoke he draped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to his body.

You didn’t protest the closeness. In fact, you loved it when he did stuff like this. You two had only been close like this for a month or two, so being treated like the two of you had been best friends since day one felt like heaven.

“Who cares if your friends think I hired you?” You mumbled. “You know you didn’t hire me.”

“What if I want you to meet my parents? Huh?” He asked. “I can’t have my parents thinking that you are some kind of personality for sale.”

“And why would I be meeting your parents?” You protested. “Your line of thought is all over the place.”

“It’s because you’re cute,” Chan explained, pursing his lips and using his free hand to rub your cheek somewhat teasingly. “And my parents love cute people. They made me after all.”

You rolled your eyes, but that warm smile spread across your lips once again.

How come when he called you cute, your innate reaction was always to smile so brightly?

“Well, I can't argue with such flawless logic,” you admitted with a shake of your head. “Where are we going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Chan said with a laugh. You frowned deeply.

“Lee Chan, I’m hungry! You can’t take lunch from me,” you said with a pout. He laughed.

“You know you are so cute when you pretend like you aren’t going to do something with me,” Chan responded airily. You scoffed.

“I don-”

“You see that over there?”

Chan pointed across the schoolyard to where a large tree was growing. It was a hugely popular lunch spot, and you almost never went anywhere near it. Only some days after school when a lot of people weren’t around.

“We aren’t going there are we?” You asked him. “There’s too many people around to ea-”

“There’s nothing to worry about, no one will be watching us,” Chan waved off.

“How can you be sure?” You asked uncomfortably. “After all, I’m so cute nobody can even bear to take their eyes off me.”

Chan laughed, his whole body shaking against yours.

You hated it when people used you for support.

You could barely support yourself and your own emotions, so how were you supposed to be able to support anyone around you? It was for some reason, really easy, however, when it came to supporting Chan. Despite the fact he was so obviously heavier then you, it was easy for you to adjust yourself to keep you both up.

“Because we’re going up into the tree.”

You scoffed out loud, but when you looked over at Chan you realized he was serious.

“Lee-”

“Chan. C-h-a-n,” Chan interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mumbled. “We aren’t eating lunch in a tree Lee Chan.”

“Sure we are,” He replied, ignoring the use of his last name again.

You didn’t argue with him again, but you were certainly protesting it in your head. You crossed your arms over your chest and nudged Chan with your shoulder in annoyance.

“You can go up the tree if you want to be up there so badly, but you aren’t getting any of my lunch.”

“What? You’d just let me starve?” Chan asked, just hugging you tighter to him. You sighed and broke free from his arms, looking up the tree defiantly.

“I’m not going up there.”

Chan shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

He shrugged his backpack off his back to the ground and took hold of a low tree branch. He pulled himself up expertly hoisting himself up onto one of the lower branches. He sat comfortably on the branch and waved down at you.

“Lots of space up here,” he said cooly. “And boy oh boy am I hungry.”

He leaned back rubbing his stomach dramatically.

“You sure you won’t join me?” He teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Get down from there, you’re going to fall if you aren’t careful enough,” you chided. Chan laughed.

“Oh is that what you are scared of?” He asked. He stood up and started to walk across the tree branch. “Uh oh, I think I might fall.”

“Stop playing around you jerk,” you blurted, unable to help how nervous you were to watch him teetering up there.

“Then why don’t you get your cute butt up here?”

You huffed and ran your fingers distractedly through the strands of your hair. You didn’t want to climb the tree. Honestly, that was the last place you wanted to be.

But... When you heard that dumb word, you suddenly forgot about all those things you hate so much, and really just started focusing on stepping a little bit out of your comfort zone.

Like those macaroons, you had made the night before...

You had tried to make macaroons four times in your life.

Each and every time you had failed.

They were too hard.

You tried again and again, following the recipe as perfectly as you could but every time your stupid macaroons came out wrong. Flat. Tasteless. No feet. The most important part of the stupid cookies were the feet, and yet you had none.

But last night you had tried to make them again because you were complaining about how hard they were to make and one of your friends had said you were cute for trying so much. Then Chan said that he knew one day you’d get it right and that night... Well, that night you had.

It was partially thanks to him. You had never thought to try again.

You took a hold of the lowest tree branch and hoisted yourself up next to him.

“You’re the worst,” you mumbled, elbowing him lightly in the side. He laughed and then pretended to fall again, but in the process, his shirt caught on something and he actually fell off the branch to the ground.

It wasn’t high up. In fact, it was low enough that you could jump off the tree branch without hurting yourself. But still, you were super worried.

“Lee Chan? Lee Chan? Lee Chan! Say something! Are you okay?” You blurted frantically, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. A couple of your classmates looked your way, but you didn’t care.

Chan had his eyes shut, god had he hit his head wrong on the way down?

You leaned closer to him, trying to see if you put your face close enough to his if you could his breath on your cheeks.

Instead, when you got too close, you felt your shoulders get grabbed and you were pulled down, your lips colliding with Chan’s. You were so surprised that you pulled away, your ears filled with the sound of Chan’s laugher. You smacked his shoulder.

“You’re a jerk, Lee Chan!” You blurted. Chan leaned up, his shoulders still bouncing with laughter.

“And you are the cutest person on the planet,” he said softly.

You rolled your eyes.

“You know...” You started off the sentence as if you were going to actually tell him that you didn’t like being called cute. But, you knew that the sentence would change before you got to the end of it.

“That you don’t like being called cute?” Chan asked. You looked over at him, startled by that response. He rolled his eyes to the side. “Yeah, I know you don’t. The others are just to dumb to notice that you don’t like it.” “But-”

“You don’t hide it as well as you think. You get a bit aggressive when people start calling you cute,” Chan continued, barely taking in account that you were surprised at all.

“I don’t get aggressive,” you grumbled. “But if you know then why...”

“I was trying to get you to admit it yourself,” Chan explained. “Can’t be spoon-feeding you the things that you already know.”

You sighed.

“It’s different with you. That’s why I never said,” you admitted. “When everyone else calls me cute, I get so mad... But when you call me cute-”

“Let’s go out.”

You turned over to him slowly, your eyes taking him in nonchalantly. It wasn’t really a question. It was clear to you that he wasn’t expecting a negative answer for you. In fact, he said it as if you had already answered

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You let your head fall backward and you looked up at the leaves on the tree above you.

“I’m pretty busy baking. I don’t have time to go on dates,” you said softly.

“Then our dates will be me helping you bake,” he responded. You rolled your eyes.

“Do you know your way around a kitchen at all?” You asked. He pretended to be offended, but you knew that he wasn’t really.

“Guess you’ll just have to teach me,” he stated with a laugh. You got to your feet and looked across the field.

“Man, lunch is almost over,” you stated with a groan. “You wasted our entire period.”

Chan got to his feet as well and picked up both of your bags.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste. After all, now you are...” He paused dramatically and leaned closed to you, his breath tickling your ear. “Lee y/n.”

He started laughing and began to run down back across the schoolyard. You groaned and begrudgingly started after him as well.

Even though you knew he was doing it just to provoke you, and even though you knew that he was just trying to make your cheeks red, and your cheeks puff out, you continued to run after him.

There were few things that you would let people do to you without you getting mad at them over it. You weren’t as much of a pushover as people seemed to think you were. In the end, Lee Chan was different. He could do anything he wanted to you you thought, and you would probably still smile in the end.

Maybe it wasn’t too bad to be called cute every once in a while. Especially if it was just by a boyfriend.