#despite the cliffhanger the next chapter should be less stressful

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See -  Chapter 9

Chapter title: Final Blow

Word count: about 4000 words

Author’s Note: This was originally just going to be an apology for posting this chapter a week late, but now. Now @khinesthetic has made this wonderful, amazing piece of fanart for SYCS, so. This chapter is going to be their appreciation chapter. (Also, please check out the rest of their blog for more cool art!)

Warning for another panic attack on Shadow’s part. If I’ve written something badly in that section, please let me know.

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...

Rouge paced back and forth in the old, tacky motel room that served as the current residence of Team Dark, the worn carpet muffling the clicking of her boots as she moved.

Shadow watched her through vaguely glazed-over eyes, thinking over the basic rudiments of a plan that the bat had laid out for them for the tenth time. The fortress they had in their sights was less than half an hour away- an easy drive compared to some of their extensive cross-country trips. Omega was given the job of getaway driver, despite his protests...unfortunately, a giant five-foot-tall robot was not exactly equipped for this level of stealth.

The two Mobians, then, would have to sneak into one of the most secure facilities on the planet, hack into some of their most secure files without tripping any alarms or otherwise having anybody notice, download all of those files onto their tablet, also without anyone realizing, and get out of said building alive.

This would have been an easy task, usually- the team would have taken it without reservations had it been an assignment from G.U.N. But now, Shadow and Rouge were both heavily underprepared and undersupplied, to say the absolute least. No briefings, no special equipment, and no backup besides Omega. Just them, their wits, and their powers.

And even assuming they survived and escaped capture on the spot...none of them dared to think about what their lives would be like afterwards, if everything went exactly as planned.

As it was, they had tried to get a full nights’ sleep, but they probably wouldn’t be able to get much more rest time than that if they hoped to stay ahead of G.U.N. and successfully complete the mission. So today was the only day to do it.

Right now, the team was just killing time until late afternoon. They thought (or rather hoped) that the guards would be a little more tired by that point, and if the mission took the right amount of time, they might even be able to escape into the night with relative ease. Rouge had planned it all out on the drive over, and sometimes Shadow was truly impressed by her level of tactical skill- especially since she had never had any sort of formal training throughout her line of work. 

Rouge really knew what she was doing.

As time passed, the team tried their best to remain sharp, but it seemed that even resting could become tiring after a while. Eventually, Omega stood up and looked down at both of them. “I have run some calculations. Your mental faculties will continue to deteriorate at a rapid pace if we remain in this room for much longer. This will in turn lower our possible chances of success. We must leave immediately so that our success rate does not fall further, considering it is already dismally low compared to most of our usual missions.”

Shadow frowned, rubbing his brow. Ordinarily, he would have responded to Omega by now, but at the moment, half of the robot’s words had barely even registered. Yet he shouldn’t even be able to get this tired, let alone suffer such consequences from a week or two on high alert.

“Ugh…” Rouge groaned, hauling herself upright. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m too worn out to worry about this anymore. We just do it, and what happens is what happens.”

“Agreed.” Shadow said simply, still trying to ignore the effects of his weariness.

Omega’s eyes turned into their ‘angry’ shapes, but it didn’t seem to be directed at them. “Your cortisol levels have been far above normal for over a week. This level of exposure is highly unhealthy. We must remedy this as soon as the mission is over.”

“Yeah.” Rouge muttered quietly. “If it’s ever over.”

“Studies show that negative thinking precludes negative results. The reverse is also true, for strange reasons unknown to me, as I am not organic. Cease your pessimistic comments, and we will drive to the G.U.N. Fortress immediately.” Omega said firmly, walking out the door. Shadow vaguely realized that the E-series robot had been taking charge more and more over these past few days, and that he’d also become a lot less...enthusiastic around the same time. 

While the hybrid didn’t know if Omega could be worried, the idea that he might be was just a little bit flattering.

…

The drive there was short, barely enough time for Shadow and Rouge to work themselves up into ‘mission mode’. All of the adrenaline that the former had felt last time was barely present now, replaced by a sort of frazzled sensation that made it feel as though every nerve in his body had been overused until it was barely even functional. 

They parked a long ways away to avoid the notice of its various high-tech security measures and just sat there for a second.

The team had been here so many times for various reasons: meetings, briefings, work parties...but this was going to be the first time they entered it illegally. (Or at least, it would be for Shadow. They both suspected that there wasn’t a well-known building in the country that Rouge hadn’t broken into, for kicks if nothing else.)

The robot left the engine running in case of an emergency, switching on his communicator. “Alert me if there are any problems and I will come help you. I will happily destroy this building for a distraction. Or to find you. Or even just for fun.” 

It seemed that Omega had still retained all of his violent tendencies, at least. 

The two rushed over to the entrance, making sure that the guards wouldn’t see them- a practiced maneuver at this point. Rouge carefully turned the two security cameras so that they faced the sky, all without setting off any alarms.

Shadow tucked himself into the niche that held the metal sliding door while Rouge tapped away on the holographic screen near the doorway. His suspicions about the bat having infiltrated this building in the past were confirmed when she whispered to herself, “Let’s see if the backdoor I left is still there...a-ha!” 

She typed in a code on the keypad: 4-8-6-7-8-9. At this point, the entire system automatically let her in- she even had the highest clearance to go with her fake account. Within moments, the door was unlocked with a quiet ‘whoosh’. (Ordinarily, there would have been at least five different checks to pass after this point to get inside, including fingerprint and retina scans.)

Rouge smirked at him before entering the building. “The code is ‘GUN SUX’, in case you’re wondering.”

Shadow could almost have laughed.

They didn’t need to sneak through the halls as much this time, since Shadow decided that it would be better to utilize a few Chaos Controls to get them past some particularly crowded sections. They couldn’t have made it past the ridiculous amounts of security measures- including automated gun turrets- otherwise. This fortress was one of the most protected places on the planet. There was a reason the President had been held there during the Black Arms invasion.

The twisted tangle of halls was specifically designed to confuse intruders, there were cameras to cover nearly all the blind spots, and guards passed every area by in two minute intervals. The hybrid thanked his lucky stars that he was with Rouge, since she seemed to be aware of every tiny flaw in the system, from a glitchy camera that hadn’t been replaced to which guards tended to slack off. He became more and more impressed with his friend’s skills each time she offered him a set of directions that worked without a hitch.

Once, they were nearly discovered, though. A pair of loud footsteps echoed around the metal corridors, sending both Rouge and Shadow into high alert. Quickly, the bat tugged him into an empty room, tucking them both behind a plain desk and out of sight.

“I guess G.U.N. actually switched up the guards for once, ‘cause this guy always used to be paired with another slacker,” she whispered as they walked by, completely oblivious to the two Mobians less than fifteen feet away. They were completely silent, unlike the guards at the old information warehouse- the fortress was much more important to G.U.N. and required a higher level of training and sophistication to maintain its security.

As soon as their steps had faded, the hybrid teleported them both to Rouge’s next location, which was even deeper in the complex. By now, they were several levels below the ground, but they still needed to travel farther to reach the secure servers that comprised G.U.N.’s major database.

Ordinarily, they would have used the elevator, but those didn’t have keypads, just card scanners. If any of the three had attempted to use their cards (which they wouldn’t have anyway, since the system kept track of who scanned their cards at what time) the entire complex would likely have gone into complete lockdown and they would have failed their mission.

Unfortunately, the excessive teleporting left Shadow’s Chaos stores running low, to say the absolute least. He dropped to his knees the second that they entered the main computer room, panting slightly as he leaned his head against the wall while staying out of sight. “You still gonna be good to take care of the rest, honey?” Rouge asked gently, brushing her fingers through the fur on his head. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to pass out on the floor and remain like this forever, but then he paused, bewildered.

“Why am I so tired? I was literally just resting half an hour ago, and now look at me.” he groaned, looking down at his power inhibitors. He hadn’t had access to a Chaos Emerald in ages, so maybe that was the problem? His fingers brushed over one of the golden rings as he considered taking them off- that would provide him with a boost of power…

“No.” Rouge said decisively, holding his wrist so that he couldn’t release the inhibitor. “I’m not having you passing out on me in the middle of our escape, alright? It’s too risky to do that right now.”

“Either way, I’m going to run out of energy soon- wouldn’t it be better to get some more strength?” Shadow asked, his eyes narrowing. 

She tightened her grip on his wrist briefly to make her point before releasing him. “As much as Omega wants to come in and blow this place up...no. There’s so much more that could go wrong, Shadow, and I’m not willing to risk that.” The bat folded her arms, asserting herself as the one in charge...which she always was.

Shadow glowered, frustrated both with himself and the general circumstances. However, he forced himself to listen to her orders, since she usually knew what she was doing- an impressive sign of respect for him. “In that case, I’ll barely be able to do more than a couple of Chaos Spears. You’ll have to move quickly, Rouge.”

They walked among the stacks of black plastic and tiny flickering lights, searching for one specific computer to link into. Within a minute, the bat had discovered exactly what she was looking for and plugged in a cheap second hand tablet that she’d bought with some more of their spare money.

This tall black piece of hardware was part of a stack all the way at the back of the room, shoved into a corner and covered in dust. It looked completely useless and outdated.

At least, if the viewer wasn’t one who could recognize that these models were actually newer than the rest. The dust, the placement, it was all designed to let the computers pass underneath the average person’s radar and keep G.U.N.’s most secret files under high security, multiple firewalls, and the latest in antivirus technology. 

Rouge, however, was by no means an average person.

Meanwhile, Shadow thanked any member of the pantheon that might be listening that they were getting the job done now. Their resources were running low, so he hoped that after this they could go hide somewhere and get a job to survive. Hiding wasn’t ordinarily his preferred reaction (it had never been his preferred reaction, honestly) but it was starting to sound an awful lot better than the current ball of stress that was his life.

“Alright, we’re in.” Rouge whispered quietly, having used her ‘all-access’ password to enter the system yet again. 

The hybrid peered over her shoulder, curious to see what kind of documents she would discover...only to find that most of it was very confusing, to say the least. There seemed to be no sense of organization, to the point where he could barely tell if it was on purpose or just done badly. As a relatively organized person himself, he quickly grew frustrated by the complete lack of any sort of pattern among the various files.

There was at least one part done purposefully, though, because the folder Rouge wanted to access (labeled ‘requisition forms’ in the middle of a video section...suspicious) was blocked by a passcode. The first two tries- TOWERS and CMNDR- didn’t work. 

The bat closed her eyes and bowed her head. To the untrained eye, she might have seemed like someone in defeat, giving up at the first sign of a struggle.

Shadow knew that she was just trying to focus and tap into her skills.

Eventually, she sighed resolutely. “Let’s give this one a go.” She typed in five familiar letters.

M-A-R-I-A.

It seemed that his sister had touched many lives forever, since it worked. Rouge clicked through a few of the files, her eyes widening with each one. Shadow was certain that his own were equal in size, watching as G.U.N. detained people for weeks without trials, arrested innocents doing perfectly legal things, and pulled many others over on the street and forced them to submit to searches without reason.

In short, hurting ordinary people who they were supposed to protect.

It truly felt as though something sick and twisted had taken root inside of the organization, indeed, that it had been allowed (even encouraged) to spread and grow until it choked the life out of every positive reason that had ever been part of G.U.N.’s founding. All that seemed to be left now was a paranoia-ridden, overly-violent military force with little to no conscience or accountability for its actions.

Eventually, the bat closed the folder, downloading the entire thing onto her device. “Let’s go already!” Shadow hissed, hating the idea of staying a moment longer than was absolutely necessary.

“No.” Rouge whispered. “We end this here. Now. Today.”

Then, she maneuvered the folders into a different part of the server, and smiled bitterly. “They can’t claim it’s faked very well if it comes from them.”

And then the master thief uploaded that entire section of their database onto the Internet, through G.U.N.’s website and every single one of their social media accounts, with one short sentence to accompany it: Doesn’t seem like you’re very good at your job, ‘Guardian Units of Nations’.

Shadow grabbed her by the arm as soon as she finished. “Alright, now come on! We have to go, they’ll figure it out soon enough!”

Rouge logged out and unplugged the tablet, and the two of them rushed to the door and peered out of the glass, waiting until the guards had passed. As they rushed outside, the bat remembered to close the door in absolute silence. Then they hurried down the hall, moving as quickly as they could. Rouge flew and Shadow skated to keep the noise level as low as possible, the faint hiss of Chaos energy and the occasional flap of wings the only sound they made as they ran.

They took basically the same route as before, only using a slightly longer path due to the hybrid’s low energy. It still went well at first, as they kept hidden whenever any guards came near. At any rate, there were no shouts of “intruders!” going off as they rushed upwards, through the halls, and towards the exit.

About halfway up a stairwell, though, several things happened in quick succession.

Alarms began to blare throughout the entire building, and red warning lights began to flash all over. The complex began to go into high alert, although the doors remained open to allow the soldiers to get from one place to another quickly. Although the two former agents couldn’t see it, they knew that all important rooms (including the main server area) would have a set of steel guards placed over them by now, so it was good that they had already completed most of their mission. “How did they figure it out that fast?” Rouge gasped, startled. 

That was when they heard the stomping of guards entering the stairwell, heading downwards towards the computer rooms- and their position.

Shadow stumbled on the stairs, the alarms and lights and those sounds triggering his most horrible memory of all. The raid on the ARK had already been brought forcibly to the surface recently, so it was still a particularly raw spot for him. He faintly felt his friend clasp his arm and begin to drag him forward and up, trying to keep him safe despite the walls of his own mind closing in around him. Remembering that he had to flee, the thought across both past and present situations of get out get out get out RIGHT NOW powered him enough to hold on back and even begin to pull her along.

A pair of guards heard him stumbling on the stairwell and began to fire at them as they ran, forcing the two to dodge bullets as they rushed up the stairs. Rouge flew the hedgehog directly up a level of steps before letting him drop and hit the stairwell running, since they didn’t have enough time for her to properly set him down. The gunfire only added to Shadow’s confusion- that and the dark metal walls of the next hall left him blinking and dazed, struggling to recall where he was...or when he was.

This...this is the Fortress, right? No...but that wiring on the walls…

He grabbed someone’s hand- Maria? Rouge? didn’t matter, he had to keep her safe either way- and rushed faster, faster, through the halls and up more stairs, dodged the gunfire, kept running- look there are some doors, why are there doors on the ARK? It looks like Mobius outside- doesn’t matter- we have to get out so let’s go-

They burst through the double doors, Shadow breaking the sound barrier as he did so while Rouge tried to ride the air currents he created as well as she could. It took all of her strength just to cling to his hand so that she wouldn’t be completely blown away by the force of his movement. 

Shadow vaguely heard the screech of car tires and heard Omega shout “I AM ON MY WAY. RUN.” as they blew past him.

His heart was pounding in his chest and his ears and he felt too hot and he could barely breathe, but he had to keep going. His legs were shaking but he pushed onwards through the difficulties, barely even thinking. 

He couldn’t even see the mountains or the sea. His entire world was just the ground ahead of him and the hand in his own.

He had to run.

Eventually, Shadow heard a whirring noise, turning his head to see a helicopter bearing down on them in the sky. The sight of something even more obviously impossible on the ARK than the doors or the grass shook him out of his confused memories slightly, only to leave him out of focus and disoriented. 

Figure it out later, right now you have to move!

Bullets began to spatter across the grass, blasting from double machine guns mounted on the helicopter, and he heard Rouge- yes, it was Rouge, not Maria- yell something along the lines of “What the actual hell?!”.

Shadow didn’t want to know how anyone had ever decided that chasing down two rogue agents, one of whom could break the speed of sound, with a helicopter spraying the entire area with deadly, aerodynamic pieces of steel was the right way to get them back. Or the smart way, honestly. Already, the helicopter’s fuel was running low, considering that their engine had to be supercharged to keep up even for this long.

He rushed into the nearby woods as it fell back, not stopping until they reached the base of the mountains nearby. They crouched underneath a rocky overhang, and Shadow slowly worked to come back to himself fully.

He had escaped with his companion this time…

His unfocused eyes slowly blinked and he shook his head slowly, trying to drive the lingering images from his head. “I’m here, hon, I’m here.” Rouge said softly, and his ears twitched, trying to shake the nagging feeling that this entire situation should be completely different.

“I gotcha, Shadow, but we’re going to have to move eventually...I can hear them starting a search party.” She scoffed. “Stupid of them to be so loud when they’re hunting a bat.”

The hybrid took one deep breath, and then another. “I’ll be alright.” he said quietly, his unwanted thoughts finally receding into the background enough to allow him to focus. He saw Rouge smile at him faintly, squeezing his shoulder once before giving him some space.

A minute or two later, a stick snapped to their left, and both of the highly skilled, rigorously trained Mobians shrieked (in an impressively high register for Shadow especially) and whirled around, ready to fight. Both relaxed, though, upon seeing that it was only Omega, who in turn gave them a quick once-over. “You are both a mess and G.U.N. will be here at any moment. They will begin to sweep this area soon and we must be far away when they do so.”

“Where do we go now?” Shadow asked quietly, his mental capacity strained nearly to its limit.

“Somewhere. Anywhere out of the way, where we can hide out until things quiet down.” Rouge sighed, her eyes downcast.

None of them were looking forward to what came next- a long wait until G.U.N. gave up searching for them, cut off from all of their friends, where they couldn’t go by their real names or enjoy their usual pastimes….

….and that was if they were lucky.

They got back into their car, again, and set off down the highway, again, looking for a place to hide.

Again.

(Shadow was tired of hiding. Sometimes he found himself wondering, as Rouge kept an eye out for nothing more than a sheltered area to pull their car into for the night, if it wouldn’t be better to just give up entirely...but the sheer idea of G.U.N. winning, especially of being put back into stasis, was too horrifying for him to bear.)

He’d rather suffer a lifetime of fear and of looking over shoulders if it meant he could spend it with Rouge and Omega than return to the endless frozen quiet of a stasis pod.

And as they pulled into the woods and began to cover their car with a decent amount of brush and leaves many hours and two states later, he almost felt a sort of resigned peace. Knowing that they had done what was right and that he would get to be with his two closest friends for a while longer was...not bad, all things considered. Sighing, he lay back in his chair, one hand linked with Rouge’s and Omega’s hand resting next to his ears.

They could hide together, at least.

…

In the morning, he woke up to shouting.

“This is the Guardian Units of Nations! Surrender peacefully or we fire!”

Rouge stared at him, her eyes wide.

Shadow was frozen in place- he didn’t think he could have moved had he tried.

Oh, chaos.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song ix.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader   au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, angst, soojung and oc’s mother being the best, minor food mention (not feeling hungry when stressed), hope, the tiniest bit of fluff, a cliffhanger of sorts!  words; 6,161 

Read Seokjin’s chapter ix here

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii  • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Soojung found you curled up on the sofa a few hours later when she came home from work. You’d tried watching television, hoping the distraction would be successful but your mind just wouldn’t switch off, replaying the day’s earlier events. You didn’t want to think just yet but that’s all your mind could do. Going around and around in circles. Hearing Soojung’s keys in the door you felt a wave of nausea knowing you’d have to talk about it. Not that you didn’t want to confide in your best friend, it was just explaining everything meant that it was all real… 

She stuck her head around the door, sounding momentarily confused. “What are you doing back already? I wasn’t expecting you until la– Y/N?” She caught the look on your face immediately and just like she knew something was up. She rushed over. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Instantly you felt your face crumble, tears blurring your vision. “It’s stupid really,” you insisted, wiping your eyes as she came to join you, a protective arm wrapping around your shoulders. The small action at least made you feel a little better. “I don’t understand why I’m crying.” You hadn’t felt the need to cry until now. Maybe it was because you could always be vulnerable with your best friend. You didn’t need to be strong. She’d seen you at your worst. 

“Did…Did you guys argue?” She sounded unsure, confused as to what could be the issue. 

You sniffed, composing yourself. “No. Not really,” you let out a groan, “oh, god, Soo. It was awful. Seokjin’s ex-wife turned up…” 

You spent the next fifteen minutes telling her what happened, although a lot of it was a blur of raised voices and insults. One thing you knew for certain though, was that you’d never felt so awkward in your entire life. You’d watched your boyfriend arguing with his ex-wife feeling so incredibly out of the loop it was embarrassing. 

You’d never demanded to know every single detail about his marriage – you hadn’t even wanted to know. It wasn’t your business after all, nor did you want Seokjin to relive things he didn’t want to, or dwell on the past. You understood that more than anyone, what with your relationship with Donghae, but he’d openly revealed a lot to you. He’d confided in you, shared some hurtful details of his divorce and in turn you had entrusted him with your own past, your own bad memories… 

There had been many surprises this afternoon, but one certain revelation kept replaying in your head. It was all you could think about. To learn he’d left out something as major as getting cheated on… Having to find out like that… You were still reeling from the bombshell. Why hadn’t he told you? You’d both been through the same thing… Didn’t he trust you enough? You didn’t understand and you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling hurt. 

“You don’t think he’s still in love with her, do you?” Soojung asked hesitantly. 

“No,” you shook your head. Regardless of the mess that were your thoughts right now, you didn’t think that at all. Yes, it was easy to let your doubts take over in the first few moments you’d set eyes on Nana, she was beautiful, although you hadn’t expected anything less, but you knew not to feel paranoid when it came to that. Regardless of today’s shock, you didn’t doubt Seokjin’s feelings for you, and you knew very well he no longer loved his ex-wife. 

“I think he’s just very bitter about everything,” you continued. “Mostly about how infrequently she sees Arin.” 

“Do you think it’s a problem?” 

Shrugging slightly, you didn’t really know what to say. “She’s been seeing her quite often lately. There was last weekend, but it shouldn’t have been that much of an issue.” Seokjin hadn’t been angry over that, or at least he hadn’t let on he was… Maybe he had and had just hid it well. With that thought, you remembered something. “It was just her face… while Seokjin was saying all those things to her. She looked so upset… I’ve never seen him like that.” 

It had been jarring seeing him so angry. He was usually soft-spoken and well-mannered. Even when he was irritated he stayed silent. You understood that he was only human, everyone had emotions, and his had bubbled over today, but it was still surprising. You hadn’t been expecting to be in the middle of a shouting match between him and his ex-wife. 

“But you knew they didn’t get on?” Soojung gently prodded, rubbing your upper back. 

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “Just seeing it in person… I can’t believe he didn’t tell her about us.” 

Your mind was all over the place, unable to concentrate on one issue for long enough. You really had been living in your own little world this entire time. So incredibly happy and blissfully content. It had been so easy to forget that Nana existed when it came to your relationship with Seokjin. To you, she was just Arin’s mom, who she spoke about sometimes, but not very often, in your presence. It was easy to put her to the back of your mind, it was easy not to think of her at all. Why would you? You didn’t even know what she looked like until today. All the photos you’d seen of a younger Seokjin, of Arin as a baby, had never once included her. You knew who she was, knew her name, but that was all. 

So you’d just assumed she knew about you too. You’d assumed Seokjin had told her without needing any confirmation. You’d assumed she’d known that you would be looking after Arin last weekend. You’d assumed she was perfectly fine with it. In reality she had no clue you existed. You were almost certain Seokjin hadn’t done it maliciously, he wasn’t that type of man, but seeing him today, how casually he had brushed off her concerns… As much as it had hurt to be thought of as a stranger, you understood why that was the case. Seokjin hadn’t. As stubborn as always, he refused to see where he had done wrong. 

“That is a bit odd,” Soojung agreed. “And even though she was a bitch to you, I guess I’d be pissed too if I found out the way she had.” 

You snorted softly. Soojung had been ready to fight when she’d first heard the things Nana had said to you, but she knew you were fine, you could handle yourself. “Ugh, it’s all such a mess,” you groaned. “I would’ve never looked after Arin last weekend if I’d known Nana had no clue.” You should have made sure. Why hadn’t you?

“I guess Seokjin had his reasons,” Soo reasoned. “Maybe he knew how his ex would react.” 

“Maybe,” you agreed before sighing. “I don’t know. There’s things he never told me either.” Maybe you were finding out that Seokjin was a very secretive person, who knew… “She cheated on him, Soo.” You were back there again. Soojung hummed in understanding. “Is it silly of me to be upset?” 

“No, it’s valid.” 

“I told him about Donghae,” you whispered. “I really opened up to him and he was so sweet and understanding. Why didn’t he tell me he’d been through the same thing?” No matter how many times you went through it in your head you couldn’t think of an answer. It didn’t make sense. Especially because he’d opened up to you so easily in regard to everything else. What made this so different?

“Maybe he just didn’t want to make it about him,” Soojung offered. 

“I don’t know… Maybe.” You groaned, thinking you were being selfish. He probably had a good reason when he didn’t tell you. There were more pressing issues right now anyway… You knew that, and immediately your head begin to spin again. 

“The whole stepmom thing,” you muttered, “it’s left me a little frazzled.” 

Soojung kept up with your disorderly thoughts expertly. “In what way?” 

You gave a little shrug, voice barely there because you didn’t want to admit it out loud. “It made me question things…”

“I thought you liked where things were heading?” Your best friend couldn’t hide the shock from her voice. 

“I do,” you replied, “or at least, I did.” Where were things actually heading? You didn’t know anymore. “I just wasn’t really thinking.”

“Of what it all meant?” 

You nodded slowly. “I lost myself for a while.” 

In a way, you had been in your own little bubble for these past few months – you, Seokjin and Arin. You’d had the most amazing summer, falling harder and harder for Seokjin and in the process Arin had captured your whole heart. She was such a sweet little girl, humorous and thoughtful, Seokjin and Nana had brought her up well. Your time together had been incomparable, your happiness unmatched, but in the process you’d ignored a few things. 

“So what are you saying?” Soojung asked gently. 

Your throat felt dry. “I’m afraid it’s all moving too fast.” 

It was a lot to take in. You had been together barely four months but here you were thinking about the word stepmom. How scary the word sounded, how scary it felt…

“You want to slow it down?”

“It’s probably too late for that,” you chuckled quietly. You felt your heart squeeze. “Soojung, I think I’m in love with him.” 

It felt almost relieving to confess such a thing, despite your heavy heart over today. Your feelings had been harder and harder to ignore these past couple of weeks, but you’d tried your best, not wanting to rush anything. Right now you were confused and hurt, but one thing was blatantly clear. You loved him. 

“It’s scary,” you whispered, feeling Soo rub your back again, listening silently. “Falling so fast.” Especially after everything you’d been through with Donghae. You were scared. Despite opening up your heart to Seokjin easily, this was different. Things seemed so complicated now, when not six hours ago they had been nothing more than simple. 

“Today was a massive reality check,” you scoffed. “I’ve been spending these past few months playing house with Seokjin and Arin, it was bound to catch up with us sometime.” 

“You liked it though,” your best friend encouraged, voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you so happy… Not since… Well, not even then.” 

“Everything just felt so… perfect,” you agreed. Everything had slotted into place easily. “And natural, and just, nice.” For lack of a better word. Your brain was pulp. 

“Arin obviously felt comfortable enough to call you her stepmom in front of her own mom?” You didn’t even notice Soojung’s change of direction. 

“I don’t know, I think she was just confused. You know what kids are like together. She heard her friend talking about it and they probably got excited.”

“Would you like to be her stepmom?”

You paused then, realising what had just happened. She knew you well, knew what was bothering you, conflicting your mind. You gave her a small smile. “She’s a sweet child, but it’s not that simple right now. It’s not only my decision either.” 

Truthfully you hadn’t thought about it before today, but now it was one of the things at the forefront of your mind. If everything worked out okay then you and Seokjin would only grow more serious. From strength to strength and what did that mean? However, now you knew that Nana wasn’t exactly your biggest fan… You felt fresh frustration, deflated yet again. Today had gone terrible. 

“You’re right,” Soojung agreed, “but it’s something you need to be comfortable with too.” 

That was true. These were things you needed to talk about with Seokjin. Then again, maybe you should’ve talked about them before. You had no clue how he felt regarding the topic, well… not explicitly anyway. 

“Seokjin comparing the both of us made me feel horrendous.” You found yourself admitting. “I’m not trying to be Arin’s mother. I wasn’t even trying to be her stepmother. Not yet. I haven’t thought about it until now. I just… I loved being a part of her life in my own little way.” 

You never wanted to replace Nana. You hated thinking like this, but what if Seokjin had been looking for that the whole time? A new mother for his daughter… You were almost positive that wasn’t the case, but you were so drained right now, your mind was all over the place. You kept replaying in your head what he had shouted at Nana over and over again. 

“He can’t expect you to take on that role, not when she already has a mother,” Soojung said carefully. “But you can be there for Arin in other ways – in similar ways. You’ve been teaching and caring for kids for years, so I hope you’re not undermining your capabilities.” 

You smiled then, grateful, leaning on her shoulder. “Thank you.” You definitely weren’t doing that but being a teacher and a mother were two totally different things. Especially when it wasn’t your biological child. 

“Ugh, I’m just exhausted,” you groaned, laying back against the sofa and shutting your eyes. “My head’s a mess.” You didn’t want to talk about it any longer, switching off sounded really good right now and Soojung understood that perfectly. 

She tapped your arm. “I’m going to cancel my plans with Tae.” You opened your eyes, mouth open ready to fight. “He’ll be fine.” She insisted. “Me and you are gonna get takeout and ice cream and just stop thinking. We’re going to pull the One Tree Hill boxset out and pretend we’re still in high school.” 

You weren’t going to lie, that did sound like fun. It was also foolproof. You’d been doing it since you were seventeen, when Soojung had got dumped for the first time. “Great idea.” 

She leaned in for a hug. “You told him you need space to think, so that’s what you’re going to do. But not tonight. No rush.” 

As she pulled back you took her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I love you.” 

“And I love you,” she grinned. “Now, let me grab my phone.”  

You woke up early the next morning, like really early, 5am, which wasn’t ideal seeing as you’d struggled to get to sleep the night before. Your mind and heart felt heavy, but you forced yourself to get up and shower because there was no point trying to fall back to sleep for an hour. You had school, and that meant you had to try your best to look presentable for the kids – and happy. A bunch of 6-7 year olds were scarily talented at reading an adult’s mood you’d come to find out. 

You didn’t eat much of your breakfast, which wasn’t a surprise because when you were stressed or sad you never felt practically hungry anyway, and left for work long before Soojung even had a chance to wake up, thinking your classroom so early in the morning might give you some sense of clarity. Either that or stop the buzzing of your thoughts that couldn’t seem to keep away. The change of scenery would hopefully do you some good.   

You were at your desk trying to organise your planner for the week ahead, 7:04am, when your cell phone began buzzing. You looked across at the device, face up a few inches away from you and felt your stomach squeeze. Filling the screen was a picture of Seokjin and you at an amusement park he’d dragged you to over the summer, like the big kid he was at heart. Seeing his smiley face made your heart hurt. You thought about leaving it ring, you could pretend you were busy and let him leave a message, but no matter how much you wanted to do it, you couldn’t. 

The phone felt heavy in your hand as you picked up. Your voice didn’t sound like yours. “Hello.” 

“Y/N,” he breathed, sounding somewhat relieved. You had taken a while to make your decision. “Are you free to talk?”

He sounded tired and unlike his usual self, and a part of you wanted to rush over and talk to him in person, to check in on him and see how he was doing, because as much as yesterday hadn’t been nice for you, it hadn’t been too great for him either… However, you knew that was a bad idea, you’d said you had needed time. A few hours wasn’t that. 

“Um, yeah,” you replied, opening your mouth again to remind him about what you’d said yesterday, but already he was rushing forward, eager to say his piece. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night, I guess… I guess I needed time too.” He sounded hesitant, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had never been expected (nor wanting) a phone call. “Do you want to meet up for lunch?”

Your voice was gentle. “I don’t think that’s a good idea today.” Maybe he’d misunderstood you, you needed longer, besides, things weren’t going to get sorted out in under an hour during your lunch break from work. It wasn’t as simple as that – you wished it was. 

There was a pause his side, then – “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

“Seokjin, I’m not mad,” you sighed softly. “I’m just…” What were you? Frustrated more than anything. It was hard to explain. In a way you felt sorry for him, but you also felt sorry for Nana. “I have a lot of questions that I don’t think I’m ready to ask just yet.” 

His voice was careful as he asked you, “When do you think you will be ready?”

“I don’t know,” you told him truthfully. “I need time to think and it’s pretty hard when I have work all week.” Neglecting your job was foolish – impossible to think of, actually. 

“I understand.” Of course he did. He was nothing but understanding when it came to you and your relationship together. That’s the Seokjin you knew and adored… the one you loved… 

“Is Arin okay?” You found yourself asking. You knew you should probably say your goodbyes, but you’d woken up feeling terribly guilty that you’d just upped and left her like that yesterday. “I’m sorry I ran off without saying goodbye to her.” 

“She’s doing okay, I tried telling…” He trailed off suddenly, and you guessed he thought he was overstepping the mark. The mark you’d put in place. “She asked where you went, I said something came up.” 

“Oh.” You’d thought about popping your head around the door and saying goodbye yesterday but just couldn’t do it. You hated to think she’d thought you had left her too. “I really am sorry about that.”  

“Y/N, it’s fine. Please never be sorry,” he murmured softly. 

You smiled sadly at his sentiment. “Are you okay?” You shouldn’t really ask, not when you needed to hang up and take that space you both needed, but you couldn’t help yourself. It felt wrong not to check in. 

“Could be better,” he chuckled slightly. You appreciated his honesty. “You?” 

“The same.” There was no point pretending. “I think some space will do us good. Let’s just think about everything and then we can talk.” 

“Okay,” he agreed simply. There wasn’t much else he could say. If he disagreed in any way you knew he would never tell you. He wanted to respect your wishes. 

“I’ll call you towards the end of the week?” You could get through the work week, have some time to yourself in the evenings and then meet up on Saturday. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I agree.” Yet, he sounded a little dejected. 

“Okay.” You had to leave it at that. “I gotta go,” you told him, even though you were in no rush to leave for work, already in your classroom. 

“Of course, bye, Y/N.” You heard some background noise and then a familiar voice in the background – Misook. As it was for you, life went on. Arin had to get ready for school, he had to get ready for work… You couldn’t both wallow in self-pity all day. “Take care,” he told you. It sounded awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say. 

“Bye, Seokjin.” You felt just the same. Even right at the beginning your phone conversations had never been this wooden. 

You hung up first, and then there was silence, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall opposite. You watched the red second hand move, feeling as if it was mocking you.

The week was slow. It was an average one, but it dragged by. On Monday you had to sit through the usual chitchat inside the teacher’s lounge during lunch, catching up on everyone’s weekends. When Eunbi asked how yours had gone you’d breezed past it, expertly changing the subject to her weekend visiting Jungkook’s parents. Other than that, there was really no need for Seokjin to come up in conversation, which you were thankful for. You spent the rest of the week busy with the children, staying behind a lot later than usual just because it was easier inside your classroom. 

At home you found yourself missing Seokjin like crazy. Ever since your first date you’d been in regular contact throughout the week, and then when things had gotten serious, you’d spoken to him every day – even if it was just on the phone in the evenings once school started back. For all contact to be gone was strange. You hated it, felt as if a part of you was missing. But you knew it needed to be done. As the days went (dragged) by you no longer felt overwhelmed by Sunday’s events. The shock had worn off and you had time to dissect it all, whether it be over dinner on your own when Soo was working late, or when you were in bed for the night, waiting to drop off. The more you broke it down the easier it was to place things in different categories. All the things that had shocked you, the things that had hurt you, and then finally, the things that had made you feel guilty. 

On Thursday night you promised your mom you’d have dinner with her. Jonathon was abroad visiting his children and she hadn’t been able to get time off work to join him. She was bored at home all alone, so you really couldn’t say no despite a part of you wanting to. Before you arrived you’d made the decision not to tell her about your…what could you call it? It was hardly an argument with Seokjin. A disagreement..? Whatever it was, you didn’t want to worry her. After all this time she was over the moon you’d finally met someone you really cared about and you knew it was stupid, but you didn’t want to make her worry.  

However, that all went out the window as soon as she opened the door to you. She was your mom for crying out loud, who could you confide in if it wasn’t her? She listened to you attentively. All your thoughts, all your worries – even if the potatoes were at risk of cremating, and it felt good to have your mother by your side. 

“Seokjin is a lovely man, anyone can see that, but he’s allowed his flaws. He’s only human,” she reasoned, your conversation coming back to the way he’d acted around Nana. You knew your mother was right, and you were in no way judging him for it, but it had been very jarring seeing him change so suddenly. “Obviously he and his ex-wife bring out the worst in each other. Sounds to me as if they’re so used to hurting one another it’s become the norm.” 

You nodded in silent agreement, thinking back to them hurling abuse at one another as if it was the most natural thing. In a way it had turned into a competition. Who could hurt one other the most. In the end, Seokjin had dealt the final blow. You. You could still see the hurt on Nana’s face now, even though it was days ago. It made your chest heavy all over again. You told your mom just as much. 

“There’s no need to feel so guilty, love,” she told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “None of this is your fault. Seokjin, whether it was intentionally or unintentionally, used you as a way to hurt Nana, and you need to tell him that you’re not okay with that.” 

That was the part that had hurt the most now that you’d had enough time to think. Above all else, not telling Nana about you, the catalyst that led to his divorce, it was being used as some kind of weapon that stuck out. You had never wanted that. You had never asked for it. 

“You are his girlfriend first and foremost.” Your mom continued. “Yes, you care for Arin but these things need to be spoken about first. You have never wanted to be, nor felt like you were the child’s mother. You know your boundaries and so should he.” 

She was correct. You’d been so hesitant not to overstep the mark these past few months. You’d even been in two minds whether or not to offer to babysit Arin that weekend. You’d thought Seokjin understood that, your cautiousness when it came to the role you played in her life. After all, your relationship was still new, and Nana was very much a part of Arin’s life. However he had disregarded that all to throw a few cheap shots. 

Your conversation shifted to Arin then. It was easy to sympathise with her, after all you’d been in her shoes once. Parents who seemed to fight more than they did talk. It had gotten better for you though, their relationship turning amiable once the divorce had settled. For Arin, it seemed to be only getting worse. You wished you could talk some sense into Seokjin. He might’ve thought that Arin was okay with her parents barely having any contact but you knew that wasn’t the case. It had been very telling to hear that Arin never brought Seokjin up in conversation with her own mother. That’s why it had taken Nana so long to find out about you. Deep down that little girl knew that her mom didn’t want to hear her dad’s name, and that was heart breaking. 

Somewhere along the way, your mom asked you what you thought about Arin calling you her stepmother. Despite it being done innocently, the weight of the word meant so much more to the adults in the situation and you agreed. It had been strange to hear, and not just because it had come from Nana’s mouth. You were serious about Seokjin and could see a future with him, and that meant being in Arin’s life permanently. That word wasn’t so farfetched and you’d had plenty of time to think about it this week. What it meant for you, Arin, and of course Nana. 

“How did you feel when dad first met Dahae?” You asked your mom. These things had never really come up in conversation before, which was surprising, but right now you needed any advice and insight you could get. Your mom had been in Nana’s shoes once after all. All those years ago. 

“I was…happy for him,” she replied hesitantly. “It took time. It’s a confusing thing. I no longer loved your father but it felt strange to see him with someone else. Of course, everyone is different. Not one relationship is the same,” she added. 

You nodded in understanding. Your father had met Dahae, his wife, when you were twelve. You had grown up with her and it didn’t feel odd to think of her as a second mom. You still called her by her name but when in conversation with others you often referred to her as your stepmom. Always had, for as long as you could remember. Maybe it was after the wedding, but you couldn’t be too sure. Definitely before she gave birth to your siblings though. 

It was different with Jonathon. He’d always been “your mother’s husband” and not because you didn’t care for him or think he was a lovely man. He was, and you liked him very much, it was just… You were an adult when you met him, twenty to be exact, living across the country for college. The bond wasn’t quite there like it was with Dahae, but your mom understood that – so did Jonathon. But it made you pause and think. You’d never asked your mom how she felt hearing you call Dahae your stepmother. It had never crossed your mind until now. 

“I didn’t like the idea at first, I have to admit, but who would?” She confessed. “It’s hard not to feel hurt or threatened, a whole load of different emotions,” she gave a small shrug, “but meeting Dahae, and seeing how kind a woman she was, and how much you meant to her made me see things differently.” 

You smiled, silently hoping that one Nana would think and feel the same way when it came to you. You could only cross your fingers and try your best in the meantime. 

Your mom nudged you, a playful lilt to her voice. “I think you’re very lucky to have two wonderful women in your life that love you and want the best for you – and yes, that’s a brag on my part.” 

You laughed with her, but your worries were getting the best of you again, turning you sombre. “What if Nana never accepts me though?” 

“I think you should only think about that if it happens,” she replied. “There’s no point expecting the worst right now.” 

You still didn’t feel very hopeful though, it was probably written all over your face. Sweeping some hair out of your eyes, your mother’s voice was soft. “Love, she had no idea you existed, I think her anger was warranted.” A pause, tone changing. “Although, not at you. I’m not very happy about that.” 

You chuckled at that. “It’s fine. You know I can look after myself.” You were feisty when you wanted to be, or scrappy as Seokjin had so comically put it once. 

Wrapping an arm around you once more, she squeezed you gently. “Talk to him.” She urged. “You miss him. This time apart is getting pointless, you already know how you feel.” 

You did. Your feelings were as strong as ever. 

You had been itching to pick up the phone last night and just call him already, but you’d said Saturday. You only had one day left at work, you could hold out until then. It would be better that way, you didn’t want to interrupt a potentially busy day. Friday’s were often crazy for him, you didn’t want to be a distraction. 

However, come morning break you bumped into Hoseok coming out of your classroom, eager to rush to your car and grab the apple that must have rolled out of your bag and onto the seat. (Hopefully – if it was on the floor it was going in the trash ASAP). 

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He politely asked. 

“Fine, thank you.” Talking with Hoseok always came easily, regardless of his position as the principal. “Glad it’s the weekend tomorrow. How about you?” 

“My thoughts exactly,” he laughed, before adding, “Although, I hear Arin’s started hers early.” 

“Oh?” You were immediately lost. Had you missed something? You hadn’t seen Arin at school all week, which wasn’t strange. Your paths rarely crossed these days unless you were on yard duty, and if you were being honest, you were glad it hadn’t been this week. She must have had an inkling something was wrong right now, she hadn’t seen you at all since Sunday, so you were relieved to know you didn’t have to answer any awkward questions. It was selfish, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. 

Hoseok looked confused by your reaction, but carried on regardless, shaking it off. “Seokjin called up yesterday, said she’d be visiting her mom earlier this weekend if it was possible. I figured maybe you and he had plans for tonight.” 

You froze, forcing yourself to reply because your boss was waiting for one. “Oh, no.” You swallowed, coming up blank. “No plans.” 

If Hoseok noticed your woodenness he didn’t let on. “One day couldn’t possibly hurt her education, right? But don’t tell the board I said that,” he added with a laugh. 

You made yourself join in, although your mind was racing. “Secret’s safe with me.” 

He smiled at you, giving you a nod. “Enjoy your weekend, alright? See you Monday.” 

Thank God he had somewhere to be. You nodded back, watching him already begin to walk away. “And you, Hoseok.” 

You proceeded to sit in your car for twenty minutes, half eaten apple already turning brown as you racked your brain. It wasn’t Nana’s weekend to have Arin. Was something wrong? You were probably being silly, conjuring up the worst case scenarios for no reason. If something had happened, Seokjin would have contacted you. He knew he could always count on you, but… You had told him you needed space and he’d agreed. He was a man of his word, so if something had happened, what if he thought he couldn’t call you?

You pulled your phone out of your bag at the thought, clicking on his contact but stopped yourself when you saw the time. You had just under five minutes to be back at class… I’m being irrational, you told yourself. If something was wrong he would have informed Hoseok, and the principal sounded absolutely fine. You were worrying for no reason. If something had happened, something bad, he wouldn’t hesitate to reach out to you. You knew that, and so did he. Only a few more hours and you’d get to talk to him. Most of those involved sleep. You could wait until tomorrow morning. You could. 

.

.

You couldn’t. 

It was half 9 and you were home alone. It was Soojung and Taehyung’s date night and she was spending the night at his place, so all you had for company were your own thoughts – and RJ, the alpaca plush Seokjin had won for all those months previous. You couldn’t possibly wait until tomorrow, your mom was right, what was the point in waiting when you knew how you felt. You wanted to see Seokjin, to talk to him and feel him. You missed him like crazy. 

Turning the television down low you grabbed for your phone which had slipped in between the sofa cushions. This time you didn’t hesitate, no work commitments calling your name, and dialled Seokjin’s number straight away. He picked up after only two rings. 

 “Y/N,” he breathed, sounding more than surprised. 

“Hey, you,” you smiled into the receiver. It felt good to hear his voice again. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.” 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“Of course not. Well,” he paused to laugh, “I was just about to head to bed.” 

He sounded a lot like his usual self tonight, it eased your mind. You laughed along softly, a confession slipping past your lips. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

You heard a sigh of relief his end. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.” The longing in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you ready to talk? I’m willing to answer any questions you have.” 

“I’m ready,” you nodded. “Should I come over? I don’t want to do this over the phone.” 

“I can come to you?” He suggested instead. “Arin’s with Nana until Sunday.” 

“Oh.” You thought to ask him how come, but stopped yourself, you could get to that in person. He didn’t sound upset, which you took as a good sign. “Okay. Now?” 

“It’s not too late?” He checked. 

“No, it’s fine.” You were eager, shaking you head as you replied, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “I really want to see you.” 

You could hear his smile too. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Really soon.” You heard his footsteps along the floor, the sound of a drawer opening as if he was finding something to wear. 

“Don’t speed,” you added, as a joke more than anything. 

“Of course I won’t,” he laughed. “I’m going to hang up now but I won’t be long.” 

“Okay, see you soon, Seokjin.” It was silly, but you didn’t want the phone call to end even though in under half an hour he’d be here. 

But you could be patient. 

You could. 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for language and blood + references to violence Warning: Lil bit of kisses with dubious consent (initial surprise, then “hmm this is nice, I guess”), as well as a tiny bit of blood. Oh, and, ya know, mild referenced cannibalism. Notes: Still no beta reader, we die like innocent chickens unfortunate enough to be in Ethan Winters’ way. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t too ramble-y, I kinda. Got excited. Maybe sorta stayed up late to write this instead of sleeping, so... PS sorry for the cliffhanger, I could not resist. Next chapter will include the reader earning their PHD in Bullshittery, while also moving us into the, like, actual central plot of Serenade (or at least the part that the romance revolves around). Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne

Chapter 2: Overture

     By the time you made it back to the maidens' quarters, it was nearly half an hour after your "shift" officially ended. Daniela hadn't taken up that much of your time, but her words had instilled a vigorous sense of anxiety in you, which had only drawn out your remaining tasks. You also weren't terribly looking forward to being interrogated by your coworkers. What would you even say? "Oh yeah, I accidentally played a note on the forbidden piano but instead of killing me, Lady Daniela just flirted with me and let me go! Haha smiley face emoji!"

     Yeah, that would definitely go over great with the others. Maybe you could get away with pretending you hadn't been the one to play? Even though, you know, your daily duties were posted on the same wall as everyone else's, and anyone could see that you were the only person working in the music room today. Damnit, you think, everyone is always a bit tense when someone "gets off easy". Not that it happened terribly often. It simply made people nervous, considering they never knew if the Ladies of the house had been denied the "stress relief" they so desired, and whether or not they would want to take it out on someone else.

     Hoping things would sail a little smoother this time, you took a deep breath and pushed the door to your quarters open. As soon as you stepped in you felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way. There had been muffled talking as you approached, but now it was silent, a heavy curtain of discomfort hanging over the room. Well, fuck, you thought, struggling to think of how to react. In the end you settled with a slightly-too-enthusiastic wave and a shy smile.

     “What the hell is wrong with you?” One of the maidens asks, almost instantly, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If you remembered correctly, her name was Cynthia, and she was one of the (currently) longest running survivors. The two of you hadn’t spoken before, which made her next move all the more confusing. Without much of a warning she moved in front of you, reaching out to grab your hands, before gently holding them in front of her chest. When she speaks, it’s with a hushed voice. “How are you not dead right now?”

     “I… have absolutely no idea,” you replied, doing what you could to avoid her gaze, but ending up meeting eyes with the others in the room.

     “When you didn’t get back with everyone else… we assumed the worst,” Daphne, the closest thing you had to a best friend, said. She was towards the front of the small crowd of maidens, all of whom were now gathering around you out of curiosity. “You’re probably just lucky that Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t home while you played, otherwise, well, I think we can all guess what would have happened.”

     “Thank the Mother for that, literally,” Cynthia chimed, dropping your hands as she did. That caught your interest for sure. Despite being part of an eccentric “extended family”, it wasn’t that often that Lady Dimitrescu actually left the castle to visit the other Lords; or their leader, for that matter. Was something big coming? Or was it simply time for a regular check up? You didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as soon Cynthia was speaking again. “Now, please, regale us with your story, dear. It must certainly be interesting… seeing as you escaped unscathed.”

     “Alright, alright,” you said, putting your hands up in a “slow down” motion. Sighing, you moved over to your bed, sitting on the edge, before starting to tell the others what happened. You left out a few details, such as the severity of Daniela’s flirting, as well as the way she touched you. By the time you reached the end of your story, the other maidens had settled in a semi circle around you. A few had started to get ready for the day shift while you spoke, but their movements were deliberately slow, and their gasps let you know they were definitely listening. It was, however, difficult to tell how anyone really felt about what you were saying. Were they looking worried because they were concerned for your safety, or for their own?

     Hard to say. All you knew at the end of night was that no one was looking forward to the following night.

------------------------------------------------

     Every shadow in the corner of your eyes makes your heart skip a beat. All day (night, technically) you’ve been overly paranoid, expecting Daniela or one of her sisters to pop out at any moment, their sickles raised, blood-stained lips pulled up into a grin, promises of violence dripping from their mouths. So far your anxiety had proven irrational. Experience, on the other hand, was reverse-reassuring you with memories of maidens you had hardly had time to get to know. Who were you to avoid such a fate? Could playing a little song really justify your existence to these people? These mutants?

     Distracting thoughts like that swirled around your mind for hours, leaving you feeling faint and dizzy, as you desperately tried to focus on your work. Ironically, it was your tunnel vision on your worries that brought them to life.

     “Humph, you should really pay more attention, sweet thing,” a voice whispers, right besides your ear. Immediately you jump, a little yelp escaping you, and whirl around to see who had crept up on you. Your wide open eyes soon settled on the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. A toothy grin lit up her face as she took you in, leaning in just close enough for you to feel her breath. “Missed me?” She asks, words melting into a fit of giggles. One moment she’s face to face with you, the next she’s evaporating into a swarm of insects, moving around the room with frightening speed before settling on a nearby table. Both her legs dangle off the edge, swinging a little in a childlike manner.

     “Lady Daniela, I-” you stutter, hardly able to will yourself to speak. You can’t help but glance at the table with a feeling of anxiety, knowing that you had just finished cleaning it, and wonder if your work would be for naught. But it seems that Daniela doesn’t appreciate you focusing on something other than her. Again she buzzes into a cloud, this time coming closer to you, the insects circling you, occasionally tugging at your skin. Fight or flight tries to kick in, yet all you manage to do is freeze in place.

     You don’t open your eyes until the sound of hundreds of wings beating dies down. Fresh drops of blood trickle down your brow, as well a few from smaller cuts on your arms. Panic still roots you in place, even as you stare up at Daniela with a frightened expression. At first all she does is laugh. Loudly, with no softness to it at all. This was exactly the sort of thing that you had been afraid of in the first place.

     “Oh, you poor little thing… Did that hurt?” Daniela asks, trailing a hand up your arm, pausing just before her fingers touch blood. Then she leans in, once more putting her lips right next to your ear, slowly pulling off one of her gloves as she does. “Good. Maybe you’ll pay more attention to me now. You really should, being in love with me and all.” She says it so casually, and with such conviction, that you almost wonder if she knew something that you didn’t. Though you try to turn to look at you, you find her gloved hand holding your head in place. The other moves so slowly that you almost don’t notice it until her thumb is sliding across your forehead. Blood smears as she does this, but she doesn’t bother trying to be neat about it.

     Instead she simply brings the finger back towards herself, her other hand turning your face as she does, so that you could make eye contact as she licks her thumb clean. As soon as the blood hits her tongue her eyelids flutter and a soft moan rises in her throat. Astoundedly the sound brought a strong blush to your cheeks. It was less about attraction per se, more about the inherently intimate nature of the moment. Daniela was so close, her hand resting on the back of your head, her eyes slowly returning their focus to you. When she sees you she can’t help but don a prideful grin.

     “You taste even better than I expected, sweet thing- what a fitting nickname, mhmm?” Another giggle, another rush of blood to your cheeks. In the rush of the moment you found your fear fading out, slowly, gradually being replaced by a mix of confusion and… warmth? What is wrong with me, you think, mind racing with countless half-thoughts.

     Suddenly, as quick as the strongest of impulses, you found yourself being pulled closer to Daniela, her bare hand moving to rest on your waist. For once her eyes left your own. Now they drifted lower, to your lips, giving you a single moment to realize her intentions before she acts on them. Your lips collide with hers before you can even think to protest. It’s a million times softer than you would have ever imagined- not that you had imagined. But now that you had felt this… damnit, you know you shouldn’t enjoy it, yet you found yourself kissing back nonetheless. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? Not like you’d have a chance to kiss anyone else around the castle, either.

     Within a couple moments you realize two things: One, Daniela was smiling into the kiss. Two, by Jove (by Miranda?) was she seemingly inexperienced. Based on how much flirting she had done, you had naturally assumed that she was in no way, shape, or form new to this. The kiss was a bit sloppy, although passionate, and Daniela seemed quick to mimic your movements. More than that, it seemed like she was unable to catch her breath (did she even need to breathe? Or were the movements more out of habit than anything else?). By the time she pulls away she needs to gasp, and you’re left absolutely reeling, unsure how to process any of this. On the other hand, Daniela was softly grinning, gently resting her forehead against your own.

     “Delectable, darling,” she murmurs. There’s a softness to her voice that you simply cannot fathom is real, at least not entirely so. Then a pause, with her gently running her fingers through your hair, before she gives you one more little peck on the lips. When she pulls away, just far enough to really look at you, you see something in her eyes that fills you with dread: Hunger. “I think I know what you want, what you need. You want to be with me, forever, a part of me, don’t you? They always do, in the end…” Her eyes shift to your neck, and suddenly her grip on you is dangerously tight.

     Instantly you shift into panic mode, trying to squirm out of her grasp to no avail. This seems to irritate Daniela, who digs her nails into your waist, making you gasp. Without hesitation she seizes the opportunity to push you against the nearest wall, the hand that had caressed you so gently now pinning you down. Your thoughts are racing, desperately searching for anything that might buy you some time to get away, or even dissuade her entirely. But seconds tick by with nothing coming to light, your hope quickly fading. Gulping, you squeeze your eyes shut, ready to accept your fate.

     And then… it hits you. An idea, maybe, that might just be stupid enough to work. Here goes nothing…

     “Wait! Don’t you want me to show you my love?” You ask, somehow managing to mask the pure terror you were feeling. Hell, you slipped in a bit of confidence, sounding far, far more sure of yourself than you really were. Apparently it was enough to give Daniela pause. Her teeth had been mere inches from your neck, but now she was watching you closely, head tilted at a slight angle. “I can hardly do that if you kill me so soon, love. Don’t you want to see everything I have to offer? To know me truly, fully, before we become as one?” Another pause, a little hum from Daniela, then a slow, spine-chilling smile.

      “Go on, then… show me.”

[lizacstuff]

Another very good episode despite the sad ending which was very well executed by hande. What did you think of the episode?

Very good episode. One nice thing about these new writers, so far, is that the episodes flow a bit better than they used to flow. I think the prior team had trouble putting 2+ hour story without it being disjointed.  These guys seem to be able to manage the format better. 

So much to love in this chapter. So much comedy. So much fun. So much ripping my heart out and stopping on it and then kicking it a little and then throwing it into a fiery lava volcano pit for good measure. 

All those emotions were felt. 

Edser to come, but let's start with Babaanne and the Prince.  It really feels like these characters were introduced with another story in mind, and then the show pivoted. Perhaps the new writers wanted something else, or maybe Fox wanted to renew but wanted the show to get back to basics so they changed course to this reset of sorts? It all feels unfinished.

(continued under the cut)

I think we were all expecting more trouble from both characters.  Not that kidnapping Eda isn't causing trouble, it clearly is, but the fact that it was resolved in the first 5 minutes is notable. What was the point? It did give them a cliffhanger, a chance for Serkan to be a hero, a reason for Serkan to fire Balca, and a reason for Babaanne to change her tune, so it wasn't completely pointless, it served some plots, however it was very anticlimactic. 

Babaanne was pretty anticlimactic too. She comes on like a house on fire in 25, having Serkan arrested on serious charges that could have stuck, framing Alptekin, ruining the project the team had won via the tender. She manipulates Eda into breaking Serkan's heart, goes full matchmaker with the Prince, but then when Eda decides, "Nah, I'm not only not going to give up on Serkan, I'm gonna marry him." she backs off all her threats? 

It does make me wonder if both or either (offscreen) the Prince or Babaanne have something to do with Serkan's plane going missing.  Just so they can fulfill their evil potential. Either of them is powerful enough to pull that off, and it makes more sense than either of them giving up so easily. 

As for Aydan and Ayfer, they made for some pretty good laughs this episode. I think the friction caused by their inherent differences is much more funny, than the fighting over Chef Alexander. As I said in another ask, Ayfer worked my last nerve in her very first scene this episode. She wakes up after being dosed by her mother's choice of life-mate for Eda, but immediately blames the Bolats. Fuck off with that. She enabled her mother, she is more to blame for this situation than anyone but the villains. If she would have stood up to her mother and supported Eda instead of choosing to further Babaanne's agenda by opposing the wedding, maybe Eda's life wouldn't have been put in such danger.  I can't with her. She would deserve it if Eda puts a little distance between them.  

GO DETECTIVE MELO! Love her tenacity in putting together the pieces of Henna night and rightly figuring out Balca's duplicity. For a second there I thought they weren't going to tell Serkan what they found, which made me nervous, but then at the first opportunity she blurts it out. Well done!  We should have known Serkan would be two steps ahead of them except that he's been two steps behind when it comes to Balca since the very beginning. It was very satisfying to watch him fire her. Though, I do wish we would have seen him find out she purposely put strawberry in his drink.  Good riddance!   The ILYs between Serkan and Melo were very sweet, it speaks so well of Serkan that he has such a soft spot for her. Of course it is only natural since Melo has been an unwavering supporter of his since the beginning, Serkan picks his allies well. 

Now onto the couples. The tension between all the romantic pairs this episode was fun, and obviously done for over-the-top comic relief, but also very silly, lmao. Those boys are so DUMB!  Engin has the sensibility of a preteen boy and Ferit never knows when to shut up, he's so naive and he can't read a room.  

However, who didn't love the friendship growth between Serkan and Ferit?  They planned a 15-day bike trip? I'm dying! And crying! However, I fully believe that Eda-broke-up-with-me-I-have-a-sad-and-need-a-distraction Serkan planned that trip and I found it preposterous that Serkan would have any desire to still go right after he got married.  We're supposed to believe that schmoopy, smitten, horny Serkan is ready to leave his newlywed bride for that length of time? Puh-lease he's planning every way he's going to sex her up over the next 6 months, and it's going to take every free minute. Also they can't even find time to get to Paris for the night, but he's going away for that?? NOPE.  Maybe next year, Ferit... but also invite the girls to the bike portion.  

The tension between Eda and Serkan in the first half hour of the ep was a nice little truncated story of the stress wedding planning and a looming, giant life change can put on a couple. Edser started the day in a very schmoopy place, but by the time they left Aydan's they were already starting to feel the pressure. The bickering between Ayfer and Aydan felt typical, and I felt myself being more sympathetic with Aydan.  They're rich, why wouldn't they hire a wedding coordinator? That's a helluva lot of work to do in 3 days!  Why would Ayfer want to spent that time doing centerpieces when she could be enjoying the pre wedding festivities? Dumb. The gems as favors do seem a little over-the-top, but I'd like to take home one of those aquamarines when I attend their wedding, so I won't complain. As far as where they're going to live, both ladies need to step off! They need to be at least 15 minutes of driving distance from both of them.  Not living on the Bolat property and not living in Ayfer's neighborhood. Geez. I'm stressed just typing it up, no wonder it set the betrothed couple on edge.  Obviously, they were having a major disconnect when they got to work. Serkan was dealing with a crisis and probably should have just told Eda that instead of burying himself in work, ignoring her, and getting irritated with her. Meanwhile, Eda should have noticed he was more focused than even the typical workaholic robot, and that meant something important. 

The misunderstanding that fueled their full day stand-off was so silly, and preventable, but also led to hilarity and one of my favorite scenes ever so I won't be too hard on how manufactured it was.  Each of these things-- family wedding planning stress, Serkan being inattentive due to work crisis, and Serkan acting a little "the old ball and chain" when Ferit was blundering along about guys trips and postponing the wedding-- all led to an Eda who was already feeling a bit insecure, so when she overheard Serkan's phone conversation it's not shocking she took it the wrong way.  However, it takes a bit more handwaving to believe Serkan took the conversation the wrong way and went right to freezing her out. Come on, Serkan, you're less emotional and have less reasons to be feeling vulnerable at that moment. She was in your office trying to get your attention on wedding planning and your home and future. You were the one too busy to engage!  Though, I suppose it's believable that these two stubborn souls would allow the misunderstanding to fester out of pride, rather than confront it head on and clear it up right away. It's pretty consistent that when one of them gets their feelings hurt and feels rejected by the other, their defensive walls go up and they both revert to pretending they're just fine and the other's rejection can't hurt them. They need to get over this asap.  

That poor wedding planner. She has a couple insisting they get married in 3 days, they're entirely unhelpful and now they aren't even speaking to one another?  I understand her frustration and don't ding her for asking if they're sure they're ready to get married, but her saying that was definitely one of the things that contributed to the insecurities they were both already feeling. They were both so sad when they had the last conversation in the office, each one suggesting the other to take time to think and rest. Their video call that night was equally as fraught and sad. Sweet, dumb babies. 

The entire sequence of the girls stealthing into the hotel and hiding on the couch was hilarious. I love that Eda doesn't realize that crashing the bachelor party could be embarrassing until she's flat on her back on that couch, hiding behind lobby foliage.  As for the boys, they redeemed themselves a little bit, by being too upset to enjoy themselves.  

One of my favorite parts is Eda trying to be breezy as if the girls being there has nothing to do with the bachelor party. I laughed at Melo taking the blame for suggesting the resort. The single gal always takes the blame, just like the unmarried/not engaged Ferit gets the blame later.  This moment (click here) is one of my favorites of the episode. I still am not sure what she's trying to say with her looping gestures and pointing upstairs and then her haughty pose, and I don't think Serkan knows either, but yet he just gets a kick out of her. The guy who Engin said never smiled, smiles pretty damn easily these days. Also j’adored the wardrobe that had them matching perfectly in shades of cream and olive. In sync and gorgeous. 

Speaking of wardrobe, during that fireplace conversation Serkan looked so huggable in that fleece pullover (more casual Serkan, please!) that I felt terrible that they were not in a place where she could cuddle up to him in front of the fire. Come on! We deserved to see that. That was the biggest tragedy in that scene, slightly ahead of them postponing the wedding. As for that, they were both so convinced that the other thinks they're going too fast, that neither of them was listening to how the other positioned it. Each positioning it as the other's preference. That illustrated the trouble that a little insecurity and a lot of pride can cause.  

Now on to my favorite scene of the episode! Seriously, immediately after watching it I mentally vaulted it to my top 10 scenes list (no such list exists, and if it did it would change all the time, lol).  First, can I say how I appreciated that the friends were all shocked at the news they were postponing the wedding? Ferit and Engin couldn't believe it, and Melo, Ceren and Piril all actively questioned the idea that Serkan would want to postpone. Thank you! You just know if Ayfer were there she would have tried to say "Oh, that's too bad, but really for the best, let's celebrate!"  

Anyway, I loved every second from the moment Serkan says, "Eda, can we talk?" until the apology. Finally, instead of being led by their pride, they both show some hurt which is the catalyst for the heated conversation that clears everything up.  

It's impressive how consistent they've been with some characterizations and how Serkan and Eda yin/yang each other. Eda has always had trouble saying, "I love you." It just doesn't come easy to her. She illustrated that in episode 12, she can handle the sentiment and agree with it, "our feelings are mutual" but it's hard for her to say the words. 

Conversely, Serkan has never had that problem. From the minute he confessed he has told her how much he loves her many, many times and in many, many different ways. What Serkan has trouble with is "I'm sorry". It is so hard for him to say those words. In episode 9, all it would have taken to get Eda back was a simple apology, instead he spent an entire episode doing everything to get her back, but the very simple act of saying, "I'm sorry. That is some next level aversion to apologizing. Whereas Eda doesn't have that problem, she can own her mistakes and apologize pretty easily. 

These scenes outside showcased this dynamic beautifully.  After the misunderstanding is rectified, Eda very easily apologizes, but Serkan goes with a "me too" type of response. The sentiment is there, but he doesn't say the words. A few minutes later, after the crew joins them, Serkan goes all romantic robot and tells her how much he loves her, then prompts her, but instead Eda teases and teases until she finally whispers it. 

Obviously, she loves him and obviously he is sorry about the misunderstanding, but I like the consistency that they both still have trouble vocalizing these specific things.

The fact that Serkan was ready to chuck the guys and his bachelor party in order to have a romantic night with her is very sweet, and also points out how silly the notion of him wanting to travel extensively without her right after they get married. I don't mind things that are exaggerated for humor, but still humor shouldn't need you to completely change the attitudes of the characters in order to hit. And playing on jokes about how marriage and a wife might be viewed as a burden, especially in context of a couple who aren't even married yet, isn't awesome. Which I get, the fact that it is a shitty attitude and a crappy joke fueled the fights between the couples, so at least there was that. It wasn't accepted. 

The lovely montage by the lake was a wonderful way to show us some quiet, romantic moments between them. That's one of the great things about this format, they have time to occasionally gift us with scenes that don't drive the plot, don't move forward any story or character development or even have dialogue, they just exist to make us swoon and fall even more in love with this couple. Mission accomplished! The fact that Kerem is the one who found that location just makes it sweeter. 

Engin, Engin, Engin. What makes you think it is a good idea to judge a beauty pageant?  Your wife is in the hotel! Not that she would be jealous, but, you know, assigning a number value to women based on their looks... it's not great. Also I realize that it's a necessity while shooting with Covid, and we just have to suspend disbelief in scenes that should have tons of extras but are barren, but the hotel holding a beauty pageant and the only people in attendance are three dudes who just happened to be bored in the lobby is funny in and of itself.  But glad the girls got a chance to take their revenge and make the boys feel what it's like to be judged in such a way. Plus it was worth some laughs and gave us a way to unite the bachelor party with the pajama party. 

For me the next scenes only exist to have Edser draped all over each other in the bar.  I didn't really pay too much attention, I think Piril/Engin and Ceren/Ferit all made up, but I do know Serkan wanted to ditch everyone and go back to the room and since we know what happened next.... we know why!  Though I did wonder, did he have a massage appointment for like 10pm?  Or was it the next day? It matters not at all, but it did strike me while watching. I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH WE GOT OF THEM IN THE TUB!!!  *flings self into the sun*  That was quite something.  Bless these new writers and their willingness to go there.  I love that scene so much. Serkan's smile is just... something else. 

One nitpick is the lighting. Obviously, with the timeline they shoot on, some production value will go by the wayside, though mostly I think they do a decent job despite all the constraints. However, one place that is consistently lacking is lighting in indoor, one-off locations.  The coffee shop in ep 12 is an example, and this was another one. I can understand they need to get in and out quickly. In this case the crew wouldn't have been able to probably prep as much as they'd like, because you're probably not going to put any stand-ins in the water, and you can't take time to perfect it once your big stars are in the tub, mostly naked, submerged and pruning, but the harsh shadows across each of their faces is distracting. Where were the bounce boards? Even those lines out. 

But obviously we don't care. WE GOT THEM BEING SEXY AND PLAYFUL IN THE TUB! What a bounty. That's all that matters.  Loved all the wedding prep, especially the lovely Aydan and Eda scenes. There was SO MUCH JOY... until there wasn't. 

I'm not going to spend much time on the contrivance that led us to the final scenes. I mean, first, Erdem... why are you so incompetent?  And, second, do they not have E-signature in Turkey? Or scanners? Or even fax machines? The idea of having to fly to Italy just to sign something is ridiculous. Oh well, whatever drives their plot, I guess. 

The final Edser scene was brilliant and beautiful and heartfelt and romantic and ominous and painful. All the things it should have been for what happens next.  Poor Serkan! Poor Eda! Why can't they catch a break? 

[marvelmando]

tempest [p.parker x o.c.] - seven

notes: updating rather quickly because i felt bad about the cliffhanger :) i really enjoy y’all’s feedback, so hit me up!!

contains: discussions of mental illness, angst

pairing: peter parker + fem! o.c.

word count: 3.1k

previous chapter next chapter tempest masterlist

SEVERAL HOURS OF WAITING ON THE ROOF HAD PASSED BEFORE LOGAN SHOWED UP. Marin had stopped crying at some point, eventually began to breathe evenly despite the sharp pain pounding in her ribs every time she inhaled. Her wrist started to throb again and the skin was blooming with dark purple and blue bruises, growing yellow from the swelling.

Getting on the jet and walking back into the Institute was a haze; the last thing she remembered was climbing into her old bed and sinking her face into her pillow. She cried herself to sleep.

She barely got three hours of nightmare-plagued sleep before a pounding at her door woke her up. Without waiting for a response, her door flew open. Lucy was there, storming into her room, eyes quite literally on fire.

"Where the hell were you, Marin Frost?!" Lucy bellowed, flames erupting on her skin.

Despite the growing temperature of the room, Marin felt numb. She shrugged, laying her head back down and pulling her knees into her chest, burrowing into her comforter.

"Answer me!" Lucy continued shouting, to no avail. Eventually, she gave up and stomped right back out of Marin's room in a blaze of heated fury.

Only a minute or two had passed before someone knocked on her door again, except this time, it was gentler. Marin didn't bother looking up to know that it was James, Lucy's boyfriend.

"Marin," James said kindly, but Marin only screwed her eyes shut. James sighed. "Marin, we don't know exactly what happened that morning, but we understand why you left. Even if we aren't really showing it." He paused, presumably giving her the opportunity to speak. She didn't. "When you're ready to talk, you know where to find us."

Marin was glad for James' respect, enough for him not to take a look into Marin's mind and find out for himself. She didn't move as she heard his footsteps recede, or when the door clicked shut behind him. She counted to ten before throwing the covers off of her.

She walked numbly into her bathroom, grabbed the plastic cup she kept on the sink and filled it with water from the tap. She guzzled down three cups before the ringing in her head finally stopped. She raised her eyes to the mirror above the sink.

The first thing she noticed was the large bruise on her cheek, slowly fading as the water she drank stitched together the broken blood vessels. Her eyes were tired, the dark brown of her irises dull and lifeless, and the delicately thin skin under them purplish-black with fatigue and stress. Her cheeks were hollowed, jaw pronounced by sunken jowls. She looked like shit. But at least her wrist didn't hurt anymore.

"Marin, please see me in my office." Professor Xavier's voice echoed between her ears, inducing a long-awaiting migraine and reactivating the tinnitus ringing. Chugging another cup of water for courage, Marin left her room, not bothering to put on a pair of shoes or socks.

It was early enough in the morning that the halls were nearly void of students, but the ones that did pass her gave her looks.

Marin felt a strong wave of déjà-vu as she pushed open the wooden door that separated Charles' office from the main hall.

Marin noticed Charles sitting in his hovering wheelchair by the window this time, eyes glazed and staring out at the bright green front lawn. Marin took the seat farthest from him, remembering the last time she visited his office.

"Did you know that I cannot read your mind?" Charles suddenly said, unprompted. Marin's eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Then why can you speak to me in my mind?"

Charles narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps I should clarify that—it is not that I can't access your mind, I just simply can't access your memories."

Marin's eyes followed him as he moved behind her and to her other side, stopping his wheelchair barely a foot away from her chair.

"Which is why I had no other choice but to believe that you were the cause of your parents' deaths."

Marin tensed, waiting for him to lash out, or something equally as terrifying. But he never did. "I must tell you something, Miss Frost—a confession that has haunted me since I first made the decision to erase any recollection of you having other powers besides your hydrokinesis."

Marin blinked at him. "You what?"

Charles cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning, yes?" Marin just stared at him, and he took her reaction as an ‘okay’.

"Your grandmother was a mutant, Marin." What a hell of a way to break the ice, Professor. "She harnessed the ability to manipulate energy, from what research I could gather. However, she hadn't discovered her powers until long after she gave birth to her son, Jamie—your father—out of wedlock. Your grandfather wasn't an option for your grandmother, and, unable to raise a child on her own, she surrendered him to an orphanage—unaware of her own powers, or the genetics she'd passed along.

"Your father, we believe, was a telepath, much like James and I. But growing up virtually an orphan, with very little education or experience, he didn't recognize his symptoms as a result of his mutant genetics. When he was found talking to himself, around age eleven, he was kicked out of the orphanage out of fear that your father suffered from schizophrenia. He lived on the streets until he was nineteen, where he met your mother and fell in love.

"I'm assuming that once you were born, your father was already very paranoid, and tried to place a mental block on you, despite not knowing what he was doing. The inexperience and lack of control over his powers led to a somewhat permeable blockade, and thus the reason why I can still access your mind. I cannot read your mind, but I can project thoughts to you.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I knew this from the beginning, Miss Frost. I can only assume that as you grow older, your father's influence diminishes with the time that passes; and as of the past couple of months, if projected strongly enough, I'm able to access your dreams." At her suspicious glare, he chuckled. "Don't worry, I still can't read your thoughts just yet."

"That sounds fake but okay." She muttered under her breath. Charles flashed a hint of a smile, but otherwise said nothing of it.

"You have to understand, Marin, that I cannot determine for myself what happened the night your powers emerged." Charles began to look guilty, which surprised Marin slightly. "There is another matter, however, that I think needs to be addressed."

Marin looked expectantly at him.

"When you first arrived at the Institute, your powers were extremely unstable. They were like nothing we'd ever seen before, even by mutants that could manipulate energy, like Mary, or your grandmother." His face grew dark. "We assumed that you were experiencing symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after witnessing your parents' deaths, which was heightening your abilities.

"I should have learned my lesson after Jean, but even she agreed that the best thing to do was erase your memories of your other powers. They were far too dangerous, to yourself and the other students. And seeing them reemerge in the last five months has made me reexamine the ethicality of continuing to keep these powers from you."

Marin stared ahead into blank space. Somehow, she wasn't surprised—as if Charles telling her this was nothing new to her, it only opened her mind to memories long forgotten. But she'd have time to evaluate them later because Charles was still talking.

"So you're not going to make me forget again?" She looked to him, and he frowned.

"No. No, we're going to do what we should've done eight years ago. We're going to train you to control them." He nodded and swiveled his wheelchair to face her again. She didn't know when he'd turned away. "I know now that you aren't responsible for your parents' deaths, Marin. Your powers were not a cause of them, only a byproduct of whatever you witnessed."

Marin averted her gaze down to her hands, which had migrated into her lap.

"Why does everyone else think that I did?" She asked, her voice quiet and broken.

Charles sighed sorrowfully. "Naturally, I'd had to inform the other adults that run the Institute what circumstances you were found in. In my folly, I revealed to them what my conclusions were, and they, too, believed them, none-the-wiser. From there, it may have been overheard by some of the older students, and then spread from there. It also did not help that your decline in control over your powers was well-known amongst the students, and it wouldn't have been difficult to presume that the lies being spread were true."

Processing the heavy load of information being dumped on her, Marin didn't speak for a full thirty seconds. "Why didn't you just tell them you weren't sure? That you couldn't read my mind?" She eventually asked.

The Professor exhaled. "I believed that if it got out, there was someone whose mind I couldn't penetrate, it would've made you a target. Or, with your chaotic powers, it would have made you a potential weapon. At least, it was what I told myself, to save my reputation from scrutiny. Now, I know that it was entirely for selfish reasons, and I am truly sorry for that, as well, Marin." Charles looked sincere. For all the years that Marin had known the man, admitting his own faults was an extremely rare occurrence, and if he was admitting this now, she had little doubt that he was lying. It didn't make the truth any less painful, though. But Marin was tired of all of the negativity, and despite her better judgment, she found herself forgiving him.

"So what now?" Marin crossed her arms over her chest. "Everyone still thinks I killed my parents. Everyone still treats me as though I need to be avoided at all costs." She shook her head. "And after enduring that shit for nine years, I'm frankly fucking sick of it."

If the Professor was affected by her profanity, he didn't show it. (After all, he'd been around Logan's filthily explicit language for decades, now, and was unlikely to be fazed by anything Marin could come up with.)

"Then I believe an announcement is in order."

+++

Marin shuffled to her room that night, emotionally exhausted from the events of the day. Everyone seemed to believe Professor Xavier's claims that she was innocent, and some even approached her afterward to apologize for their less-than-friendly behaviors. Marin was grateful but ultimately disappointed to find that she didn't care as much for their forgiveness as she'd expected. All she could say was that her name was cleared among the mutants. But she found that it wasn't their forgiveness she wanted so desperately.

Right after his speech, Charles called her back into his office, where he began the process of returning the memories he'd kept covered. She spent hours sweating and writhing in his chair as he unveiled one memory right after the other, and by nine that evening, Marin's mind was her own again.

Walking into her bedroom felt different after. It seemed so much smaller, somehow, even though she'd only been out for half of a day. She filled a cup of water, silently mourning her reusable bottle left behind in her duffel bag, still at Peter's apartment. I wonder if he threw it out, she distantly thought. Marin didn't know what she hated more—having to leave before she could explain herself and leaving him to fear her like everyone else had, or knowing that keeping it a secret from him and Tony Stark was the worst thing she could have done, and condemning herself for doing it anyway.

While ruminating, her door opened. It was Lucy again, but this time, she looked calm, and even a bit regretful. "Can I come in?" She timidly asked in the doorway. Marin nodded, and Lucy stepped in, closing the door behind her.

Marin shifted on her bed so her back was supported by the wall, and curled her feet underneath her. Lucy hesitantly sat on the side of the bed, a couple of feet down. She didn't speak for a while, and Marin knew she was thinking of what to say, so she waited for her patiently.

"I'm sorry," Lucy eventually said, looking Marin straight in the eyes as she turned to sit crisscrossed directly facing her. "I'm sorry that everyone believed that shitty rumor—including me. I'm sorry for being a terrible friend, or not a friend at all when you clearly needed someone on your side." What Marin liked about Lucy was that she didn't turn on the theatrics, she didn't blubber and beg for Marin's forgiveness like some others had. But she was rubbing at her wrists, a nervous habit Marin recognized, surprised though because it was a very rare sight. "What I'm trying to say, is that I was wrong about you. In more ways than just your past."

Marin raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

Lucy exhaled through her nose. "I thought you were a reckless, walking dumpster fire, to be honest. With how you constantly acted out—whether it was by disobeying orders to go play hero or refusing to take group training seriously. You're terrible at working in a team, you always used your powers way too often and for the stupidest things, too, and you skipped school so you could go study by yourself. You stole food and hogged the computers, you hated sharing, and you—"

"Okay, I get it." Marin cut her off, growing annoyed.

"I was getting there." Lucy snapped at her impatience. "Marin, I thought you were the worst kind of mutant. Like another Logan or young Cyclops—because we've all heard those stories from Jean—but you're not. You're selfless and principled, and sure, your social skills leave a lot to the imagination, but you're good." Lucy's lips curled into a small, gentle smile. She shook her head, amusedly. "You're not a good mutant, Marin Frost, but you're a hell of a great superhero."

Marin was stunned into silence. Of all the people in Marin's life, Lucy Webb was the last person she expected to say something so nice and genuine. Marin couldn't find the words to respond, but it was fine since apparently Lucy wasn't finished.

"I mean—you're still kind of a shitty superhero, but you've got potential. You definitely need to work on your people skills, and—oof—"

Marin threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Lucy. Though she still rankled to think about the times when Lucy had reprimanded her, hearing such praise now was more than enough for Marin to forgive her. Lucy laughed, hugging her back. They pulled apart after a few seconds.

"And, for the record, I'm sorry for what I said that day." Lucy mentioned sheepishly and didn't need to elaborate for Marin to know what she was referring to. "It was unfair of me and totally uncool—not to mention very unprofessional to say in front of such a young audience."

Marin smiled at the mention of Mary. She made a mental reminder to say hi to the young girl when she got the chance.

"Apology accepted."

"Good." Lucy nodded once, and stared at her for a moment, thinking. "Now... wanna tell me where you've been the past two weeks?"

Marin sighed. With how much she'd yet to unpack herself, she figured that she could use an extra mind. "So, I went back to Queens, right? And the superhero I met from the night in April, Spider-Man, had this really fancy new suit..."

+++

"Well, shit." Lucy said about an hour later. She propped her head up with her hand as she laid on her stomach next to Marin on the bed. "And you really went to D.C.?"

Marin rolled her eyes. "Is that really all you're getting out of all that?"

Lucy waved her hand flippantly. "Nah, I'm just thinking out loud."

"Well, what do I do?" Marin groaned, thumping the back of her head against the wall. "Those weapons dealers are still out there, probably making more alien weapons."

"Well, you said the FBI showed up at the ferry, right?" Lucy wondered. "So don't you think that, knowing they've got the feds on their tail, they plan on laying low for a while?"

Marin pondered the idea. "No... after all, they didn't stop when Spider-Man caught onto them. If anything, they were just bolder than before."

"Yeah, but... no offense to your spider-boyfriend, but he's not exactly as intimidating at the FBI." Lucy pointed out. Marin remembered his conversation with Aaron Davis with a pang in her chest.

"Why does everyone think we're dating? He's not my boyfriend." Marin shook her head. "But I guess that's somewhat true, though it doesn't change the fact that I've got a really bad feeling about it."

Lucy nodded, studying the look on Marin's face. "But you want him to be?"

Marin looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"You like him, don't you?" Lucy grinned knowingly. "You like Spider-Man!"

Marin scoffed. "Please. I've known him for all of two weeks." Her face dropped. "And besides, he thinks I killed my parents. There's no way that he'd want to be anywhere near me right now."

"Oh Mare," Lucy sighed sympathetically, and the nickname sent a new wave of pain into her heart.

"It's tomorrow, you know." She deflected. The space behind her eyes burned with the desire to cry. "The day they died." She sniffed wetly, hugging her knees to her chest. "It's been nine years. Nine years, Lucy. And it still feels like it was yesterday. I can still see my father—"

Lucy sat up, and crawled next to Marin, rubbing her back soothingly as the words got stuck in her throat. "I know, Marin." She shushed. When Marin had calmed down enough, Lucy told her, "My mom died when I was nine, you know."

Marin looked at her in shock. "Really?"

Lucy nodded, giving her an empathetic look. "Yeah. She was sick for a while, but it got really bad, towards the end." Lucy looked off into empty space. "She had a stroke when I was at school. I never said goodbye. When my dad came to get me and told me the news, that's when my powers erupted." She shook her head solemnly. "I was just lucky that no one was killed. My dad got the worst of it—he's blind in one eye because of me."

"Not because of you," Marin assured her. "Because of your powers. You aren't your powers, and you didn't do that to your dad. I promise."

Lucy smiled gratefully and sniffed a bit. She laughed. "God, being a mutant is real shit, isn't it?"

"Probably," Marin grinned. "But I think it's worth it sometimes."

taglist

@dark-night-sky-99​ @pushmeinablackhole​ @demi-starzak​ @-thatgirloverthere-​ @silver-winter-wolf  

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Seven)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are totally going to be annoyed with me for how I left it on a cliffhanger when I totally didn’t have to except to show some character growth and how things change...which I guess is exactly the reason I ended it that way :D

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615@a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera

“Can I come in, son?”

“Yeah, of course,” Killian answers automatically, the shock of his father just showing up at his door stunning him for only a moment. It’s not like he never visits. He usually just calls or texts first. “I didn’t know you were coming over, dad. Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I was visiting the kids and thought I’d drop by since I knew that the two of you had returned home.” His dad steps inside, squeezing his shoulder before leaning down to pet Indy. “Hello, darling,” he then greets Emma, kissing her cheek before wrapping her up in a hug. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good, good,” Emma insists, her eyes still blown wide as if she’s actually been shocked. He knows she’s still a bit rattled from the flight and her nausea. The same thing had happened when they went out sailing the morning of their anniversary, before the disaster of the rest of that day, and even though he had been wary of it, Emma insisted she was fine. She never said she wasn’t, but the green of her face told him otherwise. “How are you?”

“Kicking pretty high for my age.”

“You are not old,” she laughs, tugging on Indy’s leash. “Do you mind if I take Indy for a quick walk? Let her run around a bit. She’s been told she’s going outside, and I’m afraid she’ll freak out if she doesn’t get to go.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll chat with Killian, and the second you two come back inside, I want to hear all about how you’ve been since you left us to go holiday in the warm sunshine. I swear it’s rained for the past week.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Emma takes a step over toward him, leaning up and kissing his cheek, whispering that she’ll be right back before taking a step outside with Indy and leaving him with his dad.

“Do you want something to drink? Eat?”

“I’m fine.” His father begins walking to the living room, settling down into the recliner he prefers when visiting all while Killian sits down on the couch next to him, only a side table between them. “So how was your holiday?”

He almost chokes on his own saliva thinking of all of the things he absolutely cannot tell his father about their holiday as well as wondering if he should bring up the privacy issue just yet. He doesn’t know, is never truly sure about these types of things. He could have a nice, normal conversation with his father or it could turn into another tense, stressful one. He’s had enough of those for a lifetime, but he also knows that he doesn’t have all of the time in the world to fix this. He’s got fewer than four months, really.

“It was wonderful,” he finally answers, his lips ticking up on one side. It really was wonderful to get away with Emma and only have each other for awhile despite the disaster that was their anniversary. It got better, though. It wasn’t completely bad. They had the sailing trip and the takeout meal that was better than anything else they’d eaten if only for how comfortable they both felt. He felt his son move for the first time, which was bloody brilliant and most definitely his new favorite thing. “It’s a gorgeous island. Emma mentioned something about asking you to make our beaches like that.”

Brennan barks out a laugh, the wrinkles on his face all gathering together while his gray hair shakes the slightest bit. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess his dad is getting his hair cut in the next two or three days, keeping up with his lifelong schedule of haircuts. “If only I could. That would be bloody wonderful. But I like the way she thinks.”

“She’s definitely a brilliant dreamer.” He trails off toward the end of his sentence, looking down at his hand and twisting his ring around his finger, his constant physical reminder of his lifelong commitment to Emma, as if he really needs one. “Can I talk to you about something, dad?”

“Of course.”

“I know, well, I know that things were different when I was a kid, that technology wasn’t as advanced, that I was a bit of a surprise child and that you were on the older side when I was born.”

“Well, why don’t you just call me elderly then, Killian? And you have absolutely no proof that you were a surprise child.”

His dad laughs when he speaks, but Killian isn’t finding a lot of humor in it, knowing that he’s likely going to upset Brennan with his words.

“What I mean is, I know you weren’t really, truly involved in my life. And I’m not blaming you or trying to make you feel…upset, but I need a very particular kind of advice that really only you and mum or Liam and Abigail can give. And I’m honestly not even sure you can give it.”

“What’s wrong, Killian?”

He takes a moment to collect himself, hundreds of words on the tip of his tongue but none of them feeling quite right. But he has to say something, so he might as well speak the truth.

“How the hell am I supposed to be a father in a world where I can’t protect the privacy of my wife and my child? There were, um, photographers who rented out a house and used scopes to take pictures of us on the beach. And Emma and I got into a pretty nasty argument about it. She’s worried…I’m worried about Andrew’s privacy. We want him to live a life as normal as possible. We don’t want photographers following him to school or to the park, and I just – I don’t know how to fix it.”

He’s been clenching his fist all while he talks, the tenseness in his hand almost painful while hot tears form in his eyes, every fault and every insecurity he’s had long before the fight with Emma coming back and assaulting his senses, making everything a dark, cloudy blur.

Brennan looks calm, secure, the blue of his eyes not changing while his eyelids rapidly blink, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face increasing. Has he said too much? Shown too much emotion? Asked for the impossible?

“The fact that you have very obviously beaten yourself up about this proves that you are a better dad than I ever have been.”

“That’s not what I meant, dad. I didn’t – ”

“I know, Killian. I’m not taking offense to anything. I was a poor excuse for a father for the majority of your life. I was focused on Liam, on my job, on the protocol and the way that my father raised Albert and me. All I knew was that fathers were not supposed to be close to their children, and as much as that hurt me as a child, I stupidly believed it. The fact that you have forgiven me is something I still can’t believe.”

He leans over and places his hand on Brennan’s knee, patting him before leaning back and wiping at his eyes. “I did it for me, but with the way you’ve worked to change, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, my boy.” His father smiles, settling back into his chair and crossing his hands together in his lap. “But this is not about me. This is about you and your family. So you don’t want Andrew in the public eye? At all? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, we haven’t discussed it in serious length, but yes. I’m sure that Emma will be okay with releasing the occasional photo or having him join us when we go overseas so we don’t have to be apart from him, but I think we’re going to have to take a step back in traditions. And when he gets older, I think we may need to move somewhere much more private.”

The front door opens then, the alarm beep sounding at the same time that he hears the click of nails and the squeak of sneakers as well as Emma’s voice. He straightens up, fixing his hunched back and sitting against the couch in as much of a relaxed position as he can.

“Go find, Killian, girl, yeah,” Emma coos, her voice getting louder the closer she gets to the living room. And then she’s in view, Indy running in first and jumping up on the couch before getting down once she spots Brennan, less familiar people always more exciting than him. Emma walks toward him, sitting down in the seat Indy just vacated and reaching around him to tangle her fingers in his hair, stroking the strands. “What’s wrong? Your shoulders are tensed.”

How the hell does she always know?

“Killian and I,” his father answers for him, seemingly understanding that Killian wasn’t sure what to say, “were simply talking about how you two seem to be suffering from some privacy issues and are worried about your child’s future, that you want Andrew to lead a more private life than normal.”

“Oh,” Emma gulps, her hand stilling in his hair before beginning again, “well, yeah. I know that we all grew up differently and that my childhood isn’t really an option, but that’s what I want, what we want. We want him to be able to be a kid, you know? I don’t want him to be used to cameras everywhere he goes. I don’t know how we’d fix that, but that’s definitely my top priority right now. And forever probably.”

His hand finds Emma’s knee, thumb running back and forth over the material of her leggings while she speaks. He’s here with her, for her, consistently, and he hopes that she knows this.

“Why don’t you two give me some time to think things over? I’ll meet with security. We’ll work out some plans and ideas. You two should probably talk to Liam and Abigail. It’s not, well, it won’t be exactly the same. You have more freedom than them, and they’re not quite as private as the two of you. But they do have experience in all of this.” “Thank you, Brennan,” Emma sighs, leaning back into the couch and scratching at his neck, his eyes fluttering closed for a quick moment.

“Of course, but at the end of the day, above everything else, we’re a family. How you two feel is far more important than any sort of duty and tradition we have, even if I do ask that we stick to the important ones.”

“Actually, I have something else that I want to talk about.”

His head snaps to her, eyes searching for what she has to say, but she’s not looking at him, her gaze trained on the wag of Indy’s tail while her fingers tap over his on her leg, the hand in his hair having stilled.

“What do you want to talk about, love?”

She looks at him then, the smallest of smiles on her face that comforts him the slightest bit, before directing her gaze to Brennan. “I don’t want to walk out of the hospital all made up hours after giving birth. Kudos to Abigail. She is a badass woman for that, but that’s not what I want. Andy doesn’t need to be exposed to so many people as a newborn. I don’t need to be all dressed up when I’ve just given birth. I don’t care about tradition when it comes to this. This is what I’m doing, and I really feel like it’s the first step in taking a stand about him not being some kind of public property.”

He didn’t know she felt that way about any of that, nearly every word she said news to him, but he gets it, supports it. If that’s what Emma wants for this, that’s what they’ll do. He’s never quite understood that tradition anyways, and he likes the idea of a more private celebration with just them and their families while Emma heals and they adjust to the terrifying process of being parents for the first time.

“I’m not sure we can do that, dear.”

“What?” His head snaps over to his dad, trying to process the words. “You literally just said that how we feel is more important than any duty we have.”

“But that we need to stick to the important traditions, yes. New family members are an important tradition.”

“Brennan,” Emma grits, her voice strained as she tries to keep it friendly, “I respect our family and all of the traditions we have, but I am not some kind of human machine who’s only here to produce babies. Yes, of course this is a big deal, but it’s a big deal for us as a personal family, not as some part of the institution. You can still put the sign up, make any and all announcements you want. Hell, I’ll release a picture if we have to, but all I’m asking is that we’re allowed to leave and travel home in peace.”

“I agree, dad. I mean, really. Of all of the things we break and bend, of all of the things we change, surely you can let this one thing go? It’s not hundreds of years ago where people are faking pregnancies and paternities to keep the line intact, which was ridiculous then. I think letting family be family is the most important thing, don’t you?”

“Aye, it’s just…you’ll have to forgive me.” Brennan runs his hand over his face, visibly warring something within himself, the lines on his face stressing. “You were right earlier when you said things are different now. These are not things that I really went through with you, not as prevalent as you. Emma, dear, I’m sorry. I don’t…I shouldn’t have ever considered making you do something you’re not comfortable with. I love you dearly, and you and Killian know what’s best here, not me.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Emma says, getting up from the couch and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table so that she can squeeze Brennan’s hand. “You are so brilliant, and you uphold this family so well. I know that I’m different, that it was difficult to accept me, but change can be good, you know?”

“I know.”

Brennan stays for a little while longer, hashing out a few more details with them before accepting a cup of tea and some food, finally listening to them talk about their holiday all the while scratching behind Indy’s ears, her eyes closed in bliss the entire time. It’s peaceful, relaxing, and he feels his shoulders loosen the longer the conversation goes on, Emma’s laughter and joyful voice sounding throughout the room. In the back of his mind, though, he keeps replaying the conversation, thinking of everything he said, everything they all said, and he’s amazed it all went as smoothly as it did, surprised that his father acquiesced to their private exit from the hospital so easily. He had no idea that Emma wanted that, and he wonders how long she’s been toying with the idea, how many late nights she’s spent worrying about bringing it up. He knows she didn’t just think of it now, that it wasn’t spur of the moment, and he tries to remind himself to ask her about it later, to make sure that there’s nothing else she’s hoarding inside.

She goes through enough, has gone through enough over the years, and she shouldn’t feel like she has to hold things back from him.

But he saves his thoughts for later, letting his dad leave and letting Emma take a nap, her eyes falling shut without her even laying down on the couch. He wakes her before she can get into too deep of a sleep, though, knowing that it’ll hurt her back, and helps her go upstairs to their room, ignoring the curses she’s muttering under her breath about him waking her up. While she sleeps, he goes downstairs to his office, answering emails and clearing out his inbox that he left alone while they were in Spain.

Summer is normally a slow time for them, June and July full of engagements while August is usually taken off to spend in Balmoral. Emma’s due in September, though, a few days after his birthday, and she’s not working after August begins. He is, though, doing his regular work and making a few short trips, making sure never to never travel more than three hours away in case he needs to be home.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have things to do now, organizing his files and reviewing the financials for Kidding a Goal until Indy comes walking into his office, her nails clicking against the wood until she’s staring up at him with her mouth wide open, tongue practically falling out of her mouth. He checks his watch and sees that it’s far past seven. He’s surprised she didn’t come and get him two hours ago.

“You ready to eat, my girl?”

That gets her tail wagging before she takes off, running toward the kitchen at such a pace that she’s probably there before he even gets up from his chair. Sure enough, she’s already waiting next to her bowl like the most well-behaved dog in the world, which is not something he expected when he and Emma decided to get a dog last year. But she’s done well, their training working most of the time, but Indy does have the tendency to lick his face when he’s sleeping. He’s not a fan of that.

But she’s his best bud and a constant companion on his runs, so it all evens out.

After feeding her, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, Emma wandering into the kitchen with sleep-rumpled hair and pillow streaks on her face, her pajama top falling off of one shoulder. She immediately heads toward the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and some yogurt before settling down on a barstool.

“How’d you sleep?”

She grunts in response, opening her yogurt and eating a large spoonful. “I hate being pregnant sometimes.”

“So not well then?”

“Nope. I felt like my guts were all being squeezed out, but do you know who’s not moving now that I’m awake and out of bed?”

“Andy.”

“Yep.”

She keeps eating her yogurt, quickly finishing it up before getting another carton. He should probably fix something for dinner so she doesn’t consume the entire yogurt supply in their fridge.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” she mumbles, pulling her spoon out of her mouth and looking up at him, her hair deflating the slightest bit from when she came down.

“You want to tell me what that was earlier? With my dad. When did you decide you didn’t want to do the public announcement?”

“Oh, um, I first thought about it a few weeks ago, but it was really driven home after last week. Why? You have an issue with it?”

“No,” he laughs, leaning down across from her and propping his elbows on the counter. “I think it’s bloody brilliant, that you are brilliant. I like that you want to do things your way…our way. It’s very sexy.” “Oh boy, if you’re looking to get laid right now that is not happening.”

“Well damn. Now I have no reason to compliment you.”

“Shut up,” she groans, tossing her spoon over into the sink, the metal clanking. “But seriously, you’re okay with all that, right?”

“Of course. I want you to do what makes you comfortable. I’m not the one giving birth.”

“Damn right. I think I’m going to give your dad a heart attack though.”

“Aye, definitely. I know he’s trying and he’s being accommodating, but I could practically see the fear of breaking traditions rolling off of him in anxiety-filled waves. But he’s seventy-three. Some things just aren’t going to change.”

“So basically we hit the jackpot today?”

“Yep.” He walks over to the fridge, opening it up and seeing what they have left over from before they left. “What do you want for dinner?”

-/-

“Bloody buggering hell,” he curses, bringing his thumb to his mouth and soothing where he just jammed his finger on the wood.

Building a crib should not be this difficult, but it apparently is. He’s been following the instructions exactly, making sure that each piece is doubly secure, and he’s not sure how it’s taking this long. He should be finished, this crib should be made, and he should be able to move onto the shelves or Emma’s glider that she was insistent on them getting.

He’s spent more time in this room in the past month than he has in any other room in the house, June somehow running away with itself all while he’s been hidden away within these four walls. It took a month and a half for he and Emma to decide on a simple light gray, one that he’s pretty sure is also in their bedroom, but honestly, once they both agreed on the color (likely because they have agreed on it once before), he wasn’t going to say anything else. He did pick out the gray-ish blue that’s on the wall with the shelves (or at least where they’ll go once he gets to them), so he’s pretty proud of it.

Neither he or Emma are much one for designing, though they have gotten a bit more into it since the remodel of the apartment, but he’s pretty proud of how Andy’s room is shaping up, even if the lad will stay in the bassinet in their room for awhile. It’s a simple room, clean lines and clean colors. All of the furniture are different shades of white and warm browns, woods really, with natural accents. Abigail gifted them a large wooden giraffe along with some leaf and animal prints, so those are sitting in the corner waiting to be placed after all of this furniture is built.

His favorite part, though, is definitely going to be the little sitting area by the shelves and the changing table. He’s not under any impression that this is going to be a calm room, a place to relax, but he figures there have to be times when he’s rocking Andy back to sleep in that very spot, the shelves filled with colorful children’s books that’ll become routine reading one day as well as being filled with several stuffed animals and photo frames that he can’t wait to update with pictures. Of course, the cabinets below will be filled with the essentials, the things no one likes to talk about like diapers and nipple cream (that was something Emma did not want to know about, and he honestly doesn’t blame her), but they’re definitely still in the dreamy, picture perfect nursery phase where the messiness of a child isn’t quite a factor.

Really to him, as much as he knows this is real, as much as he sees the physical proof, feels the physical proof (which holy shit is it incredible to be able to feel his son move), it’s still difficult for him to comprehend that in two months he and Emma will have a child. It’s something they’ve talked about for years, something they were planning on, but it’s difficult to put into words just how much love he has for his son.

And his wife.

She’s a rockstar in every sense of the word, and if he doesn’t mention it enough, Emma sure as hell will. He loves her fiercely, and that love is another thing that he can’t quite put into words. He honestly doesn’t understand men who moan and groan about their wives constantly. If anything, he finds it disgusting. Yes, you’re going to have disagreements with your significant other. That’s natural when you decide to spend your life with someone who has their own wants, needs, and opinions, but at the end of the day, his wife is his best friend. If there’s anyone he wants to spend time with, it’s her. No question.

If the answer to who your best friend isn’t your spouse or the person you’re marrying, he doesn’t understand why the hell you’d bother getting married. His mates are great, but they’re not Emma.

Maybe he is a bit of the cheeseball that Emma always claims him to be, but he likes it that way.

He’s definitely going to embarrass his kids. All of the time. He can’t wait. He’s got a few years, but he can’t wait.

“You know we can hire someone to do this, right?” Emma asks, a bit of laughter in her tone that makes him roll his eyes. His best friend, most definitely. The teasing is just a small part of that.

“Aye, but I’ve started it, and I intend on finishing it.” “Okay, but the crib doesn’t need to fall apart while there’s a baby inside of it, and the glider doesn’t need to fall apart while I’m sitting on it. That’s, like, a double disaster, and I know you lived by yourself for a long time, but I’m pretty sure you’re not capable of that anymore.”

“Oh, really? Because I was just going to make them as unsafe as possible so that I could live by myself again. I miss being able to stretch out in the bed.”

“You’re so funny,” she teases from the other side of the nursery where she’s putting away the washed clothes in the closet, organizing them by size. He swears they have enough clothes to last Andy for the first two years of his life, and that’s not counting the piles of things he knows David and Mary Margaret have at their house. “I think I may have bought him too much stuff. I don’t even think I own this many things.”

“You don’t mess your clothes up multiple times a day.”

“Good point.”

“I tend to make those.”

“Eh. Debatable.”

“Not at all debatable.” He turns back to the crib, looking at the instructions to see if he can remember where he left off before Emma distracted him. “Shit, this is impossible.”

“I can call my dad, babe. It won’t be a problem. He’s a bit handier than you.”

“Please, I am plenty handy.”

“Okay, well being handy with me is not the same as being handy when it comes to building things.”

“If we call your dad, he’s going to take over. I want to do some of this myself.”

“I will tell Dad just to help. Come on, babe, you love spending time with my dad.”

“Only now that he doesn’t give me the scary speeches anymore.”

“Yeah, I bet those were a lot of fun.”

“I mean, it’s been a solid half a decade since I’ve gotten one, but he still shakes me to my core.”

He hears Emma laugh, snort really, before she makes her way over to him, slowly settling down on the floor next to him and waving her hand until he gives her the instructions. She looks over them while looking at the crib, her eyes continuously darting between the two.

“You put part G in backwards. That’s why nothing after that is fitting.”

“Bloody hell,” he curses, reaching over and taking the instructions from her hand and checking to see if she really did just solve his problem, “how did you see that when I’ve been staring at it for the past hour?”

“Fresh eyes, my love. Fresh eyes.” She leans forward and kisses his cheek before falling back against the wall. “And that’s exactly why calling my dad and asking him to come over in the morning will be a great idea. I bet Mom will want to come too, and she does a mean job with a power drill.”

So Emma calls her parents who agree to come over in the morning. On top of moving, they’ve also begun to change around the hours of the pub, opening it earlier and letting Will close it out at night. And it’s because of this that they show up at eight in the morning, he and Emma both still asleep when their doorbell rings. Emma groans when she hears it, burying her face into his chest and making it impossible for him to get up without disturbing her. He can feel Andy summersaulting around in her belly, and he smiles to himself knowing that she’s going to have get up. She can’t sleep when he’s moving around like that.

He can’t sleep when Emma’s basically running marathons in bed, but that’s not something he’s going to voice out loud. He can get up and sleep in a guest room if he needs to. Emma can’t get up and walk away from the person who’s running marathons in her stomach.

There’s two human feet inside of her. That’s pretty weird if he thinks about it too much.

Okay, so really weird.

Slowly but surely he gets out of bed, letting Emma flip over into his spot, and heads downstairs to open the front door. David and Mary Margaret have a key, but they never use it, always waiting for either he or Emma to open the door for them, which he appreciates after one too many times having them walk in on he and Emma.

“Hi,” he greets, opening the door and ushering them inside. “Emma’s still asleep, but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Do you guys want some breakfast?”

“We ate at home, sweetie,” Mary Margaret greets, giving him a quick hug before David does the same. “So Emma said you guys were having some issues in the nursery.”

“I believe that it was more like Killian not being able to put together a crib in under three weeks.”

“So funny, Dave,” he bites, rolling his eyes and locking the door. “I did eventually figure it out. I just think this mid-July heat is obviously getting to me. Or maybe nerves. I’m not too sure.”

“Well, let’s go help then. We’ve got to be at the pub at two, but I think we should be able to get things done.”

After he fixes himself some coffee, not nearly as wide awake as David and Mary Margaret, they head upstairs and begin working in the nursery, assembling the shelves and drilling them into the walls in half the time that it would have taken he and Emma had they done this by themselves. So maybe help isn’t all bad. Before Emma even wakes up, they have the shelves installed and pictures securely nailed on the wall. There are books already being stacked, stuffed animals and knick knacks being placed, and all of the fun nipple creams and breast pumps being placed in the cabinet.

They’re working on the glider when Emma finally wanders in, her hair falling out of its band so that half of it spills down her back while the other half is piled on top of her head, and she’s got her glasses on, something she only does when her eyes feel too puffy to put her contacts in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David greets, finishing tightening the screw he’s working on before getting up to embrace Emma. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough today. I think the little dude’s a giant or something because he crushes my lungs and my bladder at the same time. So I can’t breathe, and I have to pee. So, yeah, it’s fun.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, dad. It looks fantastic in here. You guys have done so much. I feel like we’re not going to have anything to do in the next two months if we finish all of this.”

“That’s kind of the point, love.”

“Yeah,” she yawns, covering her mouth, “I know. Mom, do you want to come and rest with me in my room? My back hurts today, and I just can’t sit on the floor in here with you guys.” “Of course, hon,” Mary Margaret answers, walking away from the closet and stepping over to Emma before she rubs up and down her back. “Are you sure you don’t want Killian to join you? David and I would be fine to work on our own.”

“No, it’s fine. I bug him all day, and I’m kind of thinking that you can paint my toes for me or we can watch movies or something. It’s been awhile since we’ve done that.”

“Text me if you need me, love,” he tells Emma, his eyes tracing over her in a bit of concern. It’s difficult watching her be uncomfortable or miserable on some days when he literally can’t do anything about it.

“Yeah, babe, I will.”

Emma and Mary Margaret walk out of the room, their voices fading away as they walk into their bedroom one room over, and he’s left with just David who promptly gets back to work finishing building the chair. Music plays in the background, an eighties’ playlist he thinks, and it doesn’t take longer before the chair is completely together and he’s sitting in it testing it out. It’s comfortable, probably one of the best seats they have in the house, and he can definitely understand why Emma insisted on this one after shopping around a bit.

“How does someone so small have so much stuff?”

“My child is twenty-eight years old, we don’t even live in her childhood home anymore, and I swear things of hers still pop up all of the time.”

“That’s likely because Emma leaves everything all over the place.”

He folds his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth while Cherry Bomb plays in the background, which is definitely not a nursery appropriate song. Or maybe it is. Who needs Mozart when you can have The Runaways?

“So is Emma like that every day?”

“Like what?” he asks, popping an eye open to look at David who’s sitting against the shelves, which can’t be good for his back. God, how old is he getting if his first concern is for someone else’s back?

“Exhausted.”

“No, not every day. She’s usually got a hell of a lot of energy, even if there’s always a nap. I think she had a restless night. She’ll tell me like it is, though. If she’s having a bad day, she’ll let us know.” “What about you?”

“Well, I don’t have a baby crushing my lungs and my bladder.”

“True,” David laughs, running his hands through his short hair. Killian swears it’s gotten more gray in the past year, the blonde nearly disappearing. David is only fifty-two, so he’s not exactly older. Hell, if it weren’t for the wrinkles on his forehead and the gray hairs outnumbering the blonde, he’d look much younger. “But I remember being a dad for the first time. It’s terrifying, so you’re allowed to be scared.”

“I am. It’s…” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear, his hair getting long enough that he knows he needs to get a haircut soon. “Emma and I try to make sure that we keep up our normal routines, that we have our normal conversations without talking too much about the baby, but it’s kind of hard, you know? It’s like we’ll be talking about going out to eat and two minutes later we’re making a list of middle names or speculating if he’s going to look more like me or Emma.”

“I know. But it’s an exciting time, Killian. There will never be anything like it, and if you want to talk about the fact that you’re having a kid, you should. You and Emma have been together for so long, and I really don’t think your relationship is going to struggle if you’re not sitting around making references no one else understands for hours on end.”

“Oi,” he protests, resisting the urge to pick up the toy elephant next to him and throw it at David, “that is your daughter you’re mocking, and she can still kick your ass.”

“Trust me, I know. Who do you think raised her to be like that?”

“Mary Margaret.”

“You’re walking a thin line.”

He winks at David, his lips ticking up on the right into a smirk. “I know. You and Mary Margaret did such a good job, still do such a good job, and even with all of the times you’ve messed up – ”

“ – which is a lot more often than even Emma has probably told you.”

“I just…you’re a good dad, Dave. To Emma, to me. I hope I can do half as good as a job.”

“You’ll be great, Killian.” David smiles at him, something genuine, and Killian’s reminded of how much David really has impacted his life in all of the best ways. “I promise. And as much as I love you, I do love my little girl more, and she’s going to be amazing. She’s always…she’s never been too open to a lot of people, but the people she loves, she loves so fiercely, you know? And she’s already doing so well at being a mom. She’ll call me at nights, and I can just hear the happiness and excitement in her voice. At the end of the day, that’s all you want, you know? For your kid to be healthy and happy.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiles to himself, thinking of how happy he is. “Also, how dare you imply that you love your own daughter more than me. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought we had something special, man.”

“I can still give you hell. I’d watch yourself.”

He and David finish up in the nursery for the next few hours until David and Mary Margaret have to go to work, leaving after the three of them eat lunch down in the kitchen, Emma staying upstairs for a nap. When the Nolans are gone and he’s finished eating, he heads upstairs, bypassing the nursery and walking into their bedroom where Emma is sitting up on the bed watching TV.

“Your toes look nice,” he compliments, grabbing onto her big toe and moving it back and forth. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, twisting onto her back and scooting up the bed, “it’s just one of those days, you know? I’m not usually this miserable.”

“I know, but it’s okay to have bad days, love.”

“Come here,” she tells him, crooking her fingers and motioning toward him before she turns on her side and wraps her arms around her pillow. He does as she asks, kicking off his sneakers and crawling up into the bed, the mattress moving against his weight until he’s pressed up behind her, his knee stuck between her thighs and his arm wrapped around her waist while the other rests above her head. This is how she’s been comfortable lately, and he can’t say he minds. “Did you guys get a lot done?”

“Aye, it’s almost all finished.” He moves her hair off of her neck, placing a kiss there before resting his chin on her shoulder. “It just needs your finishing touches, I think.”

“And we have to unpack all of the boxes that are in the guest room and put them away in the closet.” “That too, but we’ve got time, Emma.” She hums, and he can feel the vibrations as well as Andy moving around under his touch, the movements following how he taps his fingers. “Has he been active today?”

“Not since I woke up, but he always responds to your voice.” “Yeah, he recognizes me?”

“Of course, you talk so damn much. How could he not?”

He turns his head and presses a kiss against her jaw, biting a bit just to tease her. “You are not a very nice woman, my love.”

“Oh please, I’m, like, the seventh nicest person you know.”

“Seventh?”

“I figured it was conceited to put me at number one.”

“Possibly.” He moves his hand against her stomach again, snaking his fingers up under her pajama top so that he can feel the warmth of her skin. “So he really does get more active when I talk?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird to think about, but it’s true. He likes when you talk. I think it’s because you’re a much better story teller than me.” “I mean, obviously.”

“And that he’s probably just glad to hear someone else besides me. Imagine being stuck with someone for nine months. Good God.”

“Well, I’m stuck with you for forever. Good God.”

She groans and curses him under his breath before she scoots over and turns in his arms, slowly but surely moving to face him. “Don’t be an asshole. Also, so I was talking to mom today, and she wants to be called Mimi. I think Dad wants to be called Papa, which I like as long as that’s not what you want. I know that’s what some kids call their dads.”

“Aye, it’s what Lizzie calls Liam, which is weird since Alex doesn’t do that. But I’m okay with dad or daddy, so David can be called Papa.”

“Yeah, I kind of like it. Mimi and Papa. And then your parents are Gammy and Grandpa, right? That’s what Alex and Lizzie call them.”

“Aye, but I know Mom didn’t want to be Gammy. It’s just what happened. She says it makes her feel old.”

“Your mom is not old.”

“I know, but considering your parents are barely fifty while my parents are in their sixties and seventies, it doesn’t help.”

“I’ll tell my parents to get older then.”

He smiles at her before closing his eyes and settling into his pillow, letting his head sink down into the softness. It’s calming in here, the lights turned off and curtains closed while the ceiling fan hums a steady rhythm above them. He could fall asleep like this even if he’s not the biggest fan of naps, always somehow ending up groggy when he wakes up, and it doesn’t help with the way that Emma is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers scratching into his scalp.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

He pops an eye open, looking at Emma and smiling when her nail hits a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Aye, I’ve got the Investiture ceremony at ten. Why?”

“Just wondering. I was thinking we could go somewhere. Just us. Maybe take Indy to Berkshire and let her run around, spend some time outside.” “We can do it in the afternoon, if you want. I think the weather is supposed to be nice.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, leaning forward and sliding her lips over his for a brief moment, “I think that would be nice.”

The next day after he’s finished with the ceremony, he hurries home, changing out of his suit and into shorts and a t-shirt, slipping a baseball cap onto his head and grabbing something to eat for lunch while Emma does the same, her hair falling out of the back of her hat in a long ponytail. They’ve got all day, but the afternoon’s weather is pleasant enough that he’d like to go now so they can stop by a café for dinner, even if that’s the absolute last thing that Thomas will want them to do.

They want their privacy, but they should be able to go out to dinner.

So he and Emma load up into his car, letting Indy sit in the backseat with the window rolled down so she can feel the mid-July breeze blow through her fur. It doesn’t take long to get to Windsor, pulling into their parking garage less than thirty minutes later, and instead of going inside like they’d usually do, he hooks Indy up to her leash while Emma grabs some water bottles and they head to the private gardens, avoiding the visitors wandering around on tours.

As much as he prefers the spring, mild July days are near the top of his list of favorite things. Everything is brighter, more pleasant. The grass is actually greener, the flowers contrasting against their background to create a landscape of whites and shades of purple, while everything is covered in a clear blue sky, only a few white clouds scattered throughout. New life blooms, and he gets to be the one to appreciate it, to revel in it. England can be so dreary sometimes, the weather somehow reflecting the moods of most people on their morning commute to work, so he appreciates when it’s not. He’s always loved the outdoors, and if there’s any complaint he has about his home, it’s the small private garden that they have to themselves. He’d like something larger, more space to run around, and sometime in the future, he and Emma plan to spend more time in Bucklebury so that they have the privacy.

That’s what they’ve decided on since returning from Spain last month. There’s been more lengthy, draining discussions with his parents and their security team than he’s ever wanted, and as much as he feels like they haven’t really accomplished anything, he knows it’s a slow process. Of course, there are drawbacks to every positive. They’re still going to have to spend most of their time at Kensington. It’s closer to their work, to their families. Hell, Emma’s parents just bought a house so that they could have the ability to spend time with their grandchild, and now they’re going to move away from them. It’s less than an hour drive, but it’s not nearly as close as they currently are.

But everyone understands, and they don’t plan on moving any time soon, not until Andy’s a bit older. They want to be near all of their loved ones when he’s younger, and they’ve spent so much time working on their home, making it exactly how they want. It’d be difficult to leave full time, so it’ll be nice to have the option of both.

It’ll be even nicer to give Andy the most normal life that they can possibly give him.

Emma whistles next to him, her fingers between her lips, while Indy runs back to them from where they let her loose. She was about five seconds away from jumping into a pond full of fish, and as much as they’d usually let her swim, they don’t need to have a wet dog with them for the rest of the day. So she runs back to them as quickly as she can, her legs leaping in the air with her black and white fur bouncing the slightest bit. He’s convinced that she shouldn’t be able to be that quick, but she’s still just a young dog, less than a year old, and though her legs will get longer, he doesn’t think she’ll ever be full of this much energy again.

If she is, he and Emma are definitely in over their heads.

With the dog.

He’s going to choose to not think of what it’ll be like with a toddler than can run and a dog that he can run after.

After she calms from her almost pond dive, Indy walks along in front of the two of them, occasionally wandering off the stone path to sniff around in the plants, nearly tearing up several flowers until they call her back to keep walking. They stay wandering for a little over two hours, not caring where exactly they’re going or if they’re circling back around in the same spots. Indy and Emma get tired around the same time, so they settle down onto a stone bench with a patio cover that’s next to another small pond.

In the distance, he can see the Chapel where they were married, the steeple rising up above the other buildings and stone walls, and he smiles to himself thinking of that day. In the grand scheme of things, he knows that when it comes to he and Emma, as important as it was, they had so many smaller, inconsequential days that he holds just as fondly in his heart.

But that was a pretty damn good day.

He stretches his arm out over the back of the bench, wrapping it around Emma’s shoulder and tangling his fingers into the ends of her ponytail while she leans her head on his shoulder, the bill of her hat hitting him in the chin for a brief moment. He’s glad she suggested them getting away from London for a little bit, for suggesting that they change up the routine and spend a day enjoying summer, especially since they’re missing out on Scotland with the rest of the family.

A month in the same place as everyone is likely a bit long, anyways. He loves his family, but that’s a lot for anyone.

“I love you, you know?” Emma asks out of nowhere, her gaze never falling away from the rippling of the water in front of them, a fish leaping up out of the water while the lily pads float around.

He squeezes her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm and kissing her head even if she can’t feel it through the hat. “I know. I love you too.”

[daisy-chain-gardens]

Exchange Romance - Chapter 19

A/N: Here it is, the final chapter. Sorry for the delay but I hope this makes up for it (and makes up for the cruel cliffhanger I left the last chapter on).

Ginormous thanks to Jenna ( @allskynostars ). You are a true superstar and I love you a lot. Thank you thank you thank you, this fic wouldn't be what it is without you <3

READ IT IN AO3

Betts: Are you free to talk?

Juggie: …

Juggie: Yep. Gimme a minute to set up my laptop

Betts: ok

“Hey Betts. Sorry it took me a bit to reply, I was just having dinner.” Jughead sat down in front of his computer, slightly out of breath after sprinting up the stairs as soon as he saw Betty’s message.

“Don’t worry about it Jug. I just wanted to catch up. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages.” Betty was sitting in her bedroom, hair still wet from the beach as she wrapped her towel tighter around herself, using it as shelter from the cool summer breeze that was drifting through her window.

“It’s only been a week,” Jughead said with a chuckle, reaching up and tugging his beanie off his head before running his fingers through his hair.

“I know, I know,” Betty replied with an exaggerated sigh, rocking onto the hind two legs of her chair as she leant away from the screen. Jughead could tell there was something on her mind, something that she wanted to share. He hadn’t seen her in person in a year and a half but he could still read her like an open book.

“Betts, what’s going on?” His voice was low and teasing, that playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he waited for her reply.

“Well…” she started off, sitting properly on her chair again as she contemplated how to tell him her news. “Guess what came in the mail today.” Jughead’s face immediately lit up, his smile causing his eyes to sparkle as he ran his fingers through his hair again.

“No way! It showed up today?”

“It did! I got home from my exam and it was in the letterbox! Oh my God, Jug, you have no idea how excited I am about this,” Betty squealed as she waved the letter around in front of the screen, jumping up and down while still holding her towel tight.

“Betts, that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you.” She calmed down enough to sit at her desk, the smile on her face was anything but calm. Her eyes skimmed over the letter, despite having memorised it after she’d read over it a hundred times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Dear Ms. Cooper, Congratulations! I am delighted to offer you admission to our Bachelor of Arts course at Victoria University, starting March the 5th, 2019. Your academic accomplishments, extracurriculars…

“How was the beach?” Jughead’s voice broke her out of her daydream as she looked back up at the screen, a confused look on her face.

“Huh?” Betty asked, not quite able to put two and two together.

“How was the beach? Your hair’s all wet and I can see your bathing suit under your towel,” Jughead explained with a light chuckle, shaking his head slightly at her obliviousness.

“Oh, right. It was good, a lot of fun. Kev and I went to celebrate him finishing his last exam. We talked, we swam, we sunbathed. You know, the usual.”

“Say hi to Kevin for me next time you see him. And good luck for your last exam tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad actually. I did pretty good on my mocks and I am kinda good at Media so I’m not stressing out … yet.” They both laughed, knowing she was referring to how she always freaks out at the last minute, worrying she isn’t prepared enough and wishing she’d stayed up an extra half hour the night before, only to walk out of the exam room with an excellence every time.

“Well you would think they wouldn’t let you study it in college if you weren’t amazing at it Betts. Give yourself some credit.” A delicate blush spread across her cheeks at the compliment, her smile softening. She still wasn’t used to the offhand comments Jughead would make that always seemed to make her day just that little bit brighter, her smile that little bit wider. He lived for her smile, and knowing he was the one that caused it made his heart swell.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just looking and memorising, both of them itching to reach out and touch the other, even if only for a second.

“You know what today is, don’t you?” He said it so softly the speaker distorted his voice, forcing Betty to strain to hear the words she didn’t want to, a reminder she didn’t need. She nodded slightly, her eyes never leaving his as they both took a deep breath.

“A whole year Jug.” Betty’s voice was thick with disbelief, the words tumbling out of her mouth before her brain could approve of them.

“We’ve been broken up longer than we were physically together,” Jughead said with a short chuckle, laughing at the irony rather than the situation itself.

“I miss you Jug,” Betty breathed out, knowing that Jughead would hear the I love you hidden in her words.

“I miss you too Betts.”

--------------------

“Merry Christmas!” Betty chirped once Jughead accepted her chat request. His smile instantly lit up the screen as he took her in; her red and white striped top perfectly matching her santa hat.

“Wow, did Santa’s elves kidnap you or are you dressed like that voluntarily?” Jughead teased while wiping his screen.

“Haha very funny. It’s 26 degrees here so Christmas sweaters aren’t really an option,” Betty clarified and she fixed her hat.

“You now that 26 means nothing to me. If you say 26 I’m thinking less than freezing and that's obviously not the case.”

“Right. I forgot. Give me a sec,” Betty said as she pulled out her phone, opening up the conversion app that had gotten a lot of use over the last 18 months. “About 79 fahrenheit. I know that's not super hot but trust me, that’s practically boiling in Wellington when there’s no wind.”

“That whole summer Christmas thing is so strange to me. How do you have snowball fights and hot cocoa and s’mores?” Jughead asked bewilderedly, breaking into a grin once Betty realised he was joking.

“In short, we don’t. We just get to hang out at the beach and have barbeques instead.” Her voice sounded smug and matter of fact as she pulled out the parcel that had been hidden under her desk since the postman had delivered it a week ago.

“Alright Jug, I know this is what you’ve been itching to do since you got yours. You ready to open presents?” His eyes grew wide with excitement as a rushed to the closet and pulled out his own parcel, the one that Betty had wrapped in brown paper and Christmas coloured string.

“I feel like we should be doing a countdown or something,” he heard her mumble light-heartedly as he sat back down in front of his computer.

“No need for that babe, you go first.” That both froze at the endearment; Jughead with a look of terror on his face that he’d overstepped their unspoken boundaries while Betty tried to carry on as if nothing had happened, sending him that soft smile of hers that instantly melted all of his fears.

The tremble in her hand as she carefully unstuck the tape wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Jug, this is beautiful,” Betty exclaimed as she finally unwrapped the festive paper, revealing a brown leather journal.

“Open it,” Jughead instructed quietly as he watched her, trying and failing to anticipate her reaction.

“Oh my goodness.” She was completely out of words as she undid the elastic band and opened up to the middle of the journal, Jughead’s familiar scrawl filling the page in front of her. She flipped through the second half of the pages and found the same thing; black ink in the form of Jughead’s words filling up the white pages.

“Juggie, what is this?” She could feel the tears threatening to spill over the edge as her eyes finally met his. Seeing the confliction in her eyes scared him, made him wonder if he’d done the right thing by sending it to her. He’d written in it most days since that fateful Friday night when everything had changed but somehow nothing did. He’d sent it to her on an impulse, after spending most days over the previous two weeks on the lookout for the perfect present, only to come home empty handed each time.

“It’s … it’s us, it’s our story.” She stayed quiet as she stared down at the journal in her hands, unable to tear her eyes away from the note he’d left for her on the first page.

Betts, Last year I promised to love you and always be there for you. Even without you here with me, I still plan on keeping that promise. This is for us, for you, mostly for you. I miss you, Your Jughead

Her fingers were running over the paper as if it would help her memorise the words, help the soak into her skin so she could wear them forever.

“I’m sorry Betty, I didn’t mean to overstep. I just … I thought you should have it,” He trailed off quietly as she kept staring at the ink stained pages, his fingers relentlessly pulling at that misbehaving strand of hair that refused to leave his forehead.

“No, Jug, this is … I have no words,” she managed out through a hiccup, looking up at him. “This is perfect Jug, really.” He let out the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding at her reassurance, relieved he hadn’t ruined whatever was happening between them.

“Your turn,” she said with a soft smile as she carefully redid the elastic and placed in on the side of her desk, saving it for later. He managed to pull the string apart as he ripped at the paper, Betty laughing at his enthusiasm.

“Betts,” Jughead drawled as he held his gift up to the laptop so she could see it, his smile wide on his face. It was a scrapbook identical to the one he’d given her at the airport, the same picture of them atop the Empire State Building gracing the cover. The only difference was what was inside, his professional looking photos that proved his eye for art were replaced by her photos, the goofy selfies she’d forced him to take and the photos she’d sneaked in when he wasn’t paying attention. This was her version of the story, their story.

“You should have,” he said with a grin as he lay it down on the desk, flipping carefully through the pages as he skimmed over the pictures. “This is great Betts. Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas Jug,” she said with a gentle smile.

“Merry Christmas. I miss you,” he replied, echoing her tone.

“I miss you too.”

--------------------

“Jug, I can’t hear you, there’s too much noise in the background,” Betty yelled to her computer as she watched Jughead turn up the noise on his laptop, people wandering in every direction behind where he sat. “Where are you anyway?”

“Oh um…” Jughead trailed off, looking around him to figure out how much she could see. Everything, she could see everything. “I am, uh, at the, uh, at the airport actually,” Jughead stammered as his hand reached up to run through his hair, twirling the strands determinedly.

“The airport?” He could hear the surprise in Betty’s voice and all he really wanted was to change to subject and stop her from asking anymore questions. He knew her well enough to know that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. “Why are you at the airport?”

“It may be hard for you to believe but I’m actually waiting to get on a plane,” Jughead quipped over the noise, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Haha very funny. I’m not that stupid thank you very much. I mean where are you going?” Now Jughead was really beginning to panic. He couldn’t tell her the truth, could he? No, no he couldn’t.

“Uh, Veronica decided on an impromptu trip to New York but the chauffeur is sick so she booked us on the next flight?” The question in his voice gave him away and as soon as the words fell out of his mouth he wanted to stuff them back in and lock them away.

“Are you asking me if that’s what’s happening or is that what’s actually going on?” Betty teased, that curious glint in her eyes telling Jughead she was onto him.

“Definitely what’s going on. Mhmm. The absolute truth.” Jughead nodded enthusiastically, making him look more like a dog then an actual human being as he tried to convince her of his lie. “Anyways, enough about me. How’s it going for you Betts? You excited for Monday?” Jughead asked quickly, hoping to distract her. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, almost as if she could see the truth swimming around in the depths of her eyes. He could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she tried to figure out what he was up to. Eventually, she seemed to realise he wouldn’t tell her and moved on to answer her question.

“I’m good, always good. I’m super excited for Monday, constant butterflies in my stomach kind of nervous. I can’t believe my first day at university is only a couple of days away, it’s insane.” She settled back into her usual self as she filled him in on everything that had happened since they had talked the week before; moving into her flat, her crazy vegan flatmate who insisted all of their animal products be moved to a seperate fridge so it didn’t ‘contaminate’ her food, various last minute shopping trips, and her time spent with Kevin.

“Well I’m glad you’re happy Betty,” Jughead said softly, Betty hearing the support in his words even over the hustle and bustle of the people in the background.

“I really am Jug. I haven’t felt this way in a while and it’s so … refreshing. I don’t feel like my mother is watching my every move and I got into my top uni and I have a job that doesn’t look like it’ll be going anywhere and I … it’s just really nice, to be independent, you know? I feel like I’m finally doing something purely for me and it’s really exciting.” Her eyes were twinkling as she talked, letting Jughead know that she meant every word of it.

“I just wish you could be here with me.”

It came out as a whisper, a thought spoken aloud as she fiddled with the tassels on one of the pillows on her bed. Such a short confession that almost broke his heart. Almost.

“I do too. I miss you Betts, so much, and I’m super sorry but I have to go because they’re about to call my flight. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Have a good flight, we’ll talk later,” Betty promised as she started shutting her laptop.

“Talk later,” he signed off before the screen went black.

Only one thought was floating around Betty’s usually crowded mind; Riverdale didn’t have an airport.

--------------------

Betty quickly glanced at herself in the mirror before she walked out of the door and towards her first class. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t calm down as she smoothed down her hair and straightened her jacket, took a deep breath, and grabbed her keys off the hook in the hallway before she could psych herself out.

The walk to the campus only took a handful of minutes and Betty spent the whole time caught up in her thoughts, barely noticing the asphalt under her feet or the birds chirping in her ears. She found the right building and walked up the two flights of stairs to her class, a path she’d memorise the night before after spending hours pouring over the maps the university had provided for first-year students.

She was 20 minutes early, perfectly on time for her ‘mental health and disorder: interdisciplinary perspectives’ class. She hadn’t been entirely sure what it was about but after reading through some of the resources that the professor had sent them the week before, Betty was fairly confident she wouldn’t be completely lost during this first class.

She pulled her book out of her bag and started reading, figuring she might as well kill some time and try to distract herself before her other classmates arrived. The words of ‘The Princess Bride’ drawing her in immediately as her eyes flew over the pages, taking comfort in the familiar words.

“This is true love. You think this happens everyday?” A male voice pulled Betty from the pages, forcing her back into the real world as she looked up beside her to where the voice was coming from. And standing right beside her, in the middle of the now fairly crowded corridor, was none other than Jughead Jones.

“Jug?” Betty asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open as she took him in. Before he had a chance to give her a sarcastic response, her arms were thrown around his neck as she crushed herself against him, holding him tightly as though he was going to disappear in the next breath. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered into his ear, immediately making him relax as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Surprise,” he whispered back, feeling her smile into his shoulder. They eventually untangled themselves as someone around them coughed loudly, hinting not-so-subtly that it was time to break things up.

“But - you - what, what are you doing here?” Betty stumbled over her words as she tried to make a mess out of the jumble of thoughts in her mind. Jughead was here, in Wellington, right beside her, in her university? This was going to take a lot of explaining.

“I uh, I’m studying here. I got into the film program on a scholarship and I guess our programs share some courses. I was planning on telling you but then I made the mistake of letting Arch know and, well, you know how it goes. He told Ron and then Ron took it upon herself to watch my every move to make sure I didn’t tell you to keep this a surprise,” Jughead summed up, knowing that wouldn’t be enough of an explanation for Betty but hoping it would be okay for now as the professor was now walking down the corridor towards the class.

“I’m really happy you’re here Jug,” Betty said softly as she slipped her hand into his, letting their fingers intertwine.

“I am too,” Jughead replied as his thumb brushed over the back of her hand, bringing her that certain kind of peace she only felt when she was with him.

“I missed you,” she whispered into his ear as they made their way into the lecture hall, the rustle and bustle of everyone preparing their things giving Jughead enough time to whisper back as they slipped into their seats.

“I missed you too.”

--------------------

As soon as the professor finished his lecture, Betty raced to pack up her things and made her way out the door, dragging Jughead along behind her. She stopped abruptly as soon as they got out of the building, looking around for a moment before finding a park bench nearby and leading him to it, sitting down facing him before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, so Jug, I need you to start from the start and explain this entire thing to me because my head is spinning. This is so insane and I am so happy you’re here with me and that you flew all the way to New Zealand is just unbelievable and I just s-”

“Betty,” Jughead said through a laugh, reaching for her hands to cut off her ramblings before he had to fight any harder to get a word in edgeways. “I will answer all of your questions, I promise. There’s just one little thing I have to do first and then I’m all yours.” Betty’s animated expression sunk a little at his words.

“Oh, yeah, okay. I could meet up with you later at the Mojo on the corner if you want? How about in an hour? Wait, you probably don’t know your way around yet s-” Jughead’s lips came crashing onto hers, his hands now cupping her face so as to pull her closer. Her eyes widened in surprise before fluttering closed once her brain realised what was happening, bringing her own hands up to play with the stray hairs at the nape of his neck.

Jughead pulled away slowly, reluctantly, breathing in as much of Betty in that moment as he possibly could. His hands stayed on her soft skin, gently stroking her blushed cheeks.

“Okay, now I’m all yours,” Jughead announced with a sly smile, proud that he was able to bring up enough courage to actually go through with his plan. Betty sat there, slightly stunned, as she realised that was the thing he said he had to do.

“That was incredibly smug Jones,” Betty shot back, failing to keep any hint of malice in her tone as she failed to control her grin. Jughead stood up and draped his arm across her shoulders, pulling her into his side and placing a kiss on her temple as they started walking towards the exit.

Betty wasn’t exactly sure what would happen, she wasn’t even sure how it happened. All she knew was that she suddenly felt like she could do anything, and with Jughead by her side, she knew she would.

[motherlyra]

Nightmare Midnight

New Sans Days series….? Kinda??? I wanted to write some Gaster-centric fics that were still based in Sans Days, more into the future. Same rules as Sans Nights (Chapters are optionally-canon, reader’s gender will never be specified but genitalia might be mentioned with warnings if necessary, mostly just for smut or non-plot fun), tho added on I suppose Gaster is somewhat in a poly relationship with Reader and Sans. Well, not established in this chapter, but maybe future ones? Idk man, I just felt like writing the Gast-bro.

Main reason I wrote this is that I don’t do well with scary movies and nightmares, and writing this helped me get out of my jitteriness after both encounters lol. The nightmare is 100% an actual nightmare I had- and let me tell you it was The Worst. This chapter was basically self-therapy for me tbh.

Warnings: Haaaaa the nightmare is a metaphor for my life. I’m writing some seriously personal shit down so I hope you all appreciate how fucking terrifying my nightmares are. Body horror, nightmare shit. You should know the drill.

Also this might be like the first writing I've posted that doesn't have a cliffhanger. Don't get me wrong, I originally had one, but I wanted closure for myself lmao. Enjoy!

[Sans Days/Nights]

[Buy me a coffee] [Patreon]

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“You cannot honestly still be thinking about that film.” Gaster’s voice caused you to jump slightly from the bed. You looked over, seeing him standing in the doorway to your room with a judgmental look on his face. “You barely watched ten minutes of it before giving into your fear and claiming you were too tired.”

“How- Whaaa? Nahh...” You tried to play it cool, pushing the blankets so they weren't as bunched close to your chest as you originally had them.

“The past twenty minutes I have been sitting on that couch utterly full of determination, which only happens during times of your adrenaline. I think we both know by this point the only thrill you get nowadays is by being terrified.” Gaster clarified with slight exaggeration and rolling his eye halos. You quickly motioned your hand in a lazy wave and trying to play off the very true statement he just said.

“Pssh. Yeah right. That movie didn’t scare me. It's just... taxes. And things.” You could tell by his face that he wasn't convinced. “Bills. That sort of thing. Normal humans get stressed about that sort of thing.” You continued, seeing that he was even less convinced now. He sighed and walked over to your bed, sitting down next to you but keeping his eyes to the wall.

“You are, by far, the worst liar I have ever met.” He muttered.

“If people knew you were a good liar, wouldn’t that mean you were a bad liar?” You asked, and you saw his eyebrow bone raise ever so slightly. Haha, point one for you.

“Hmm. Valid point. However, I can literally feel how quickly your heart is beating, and I highly doubt ‘taxes and things’ are the cause of that.” He glanced down at you, and you felt static at your toes. “Forgive me for not being my brother in this situation, I am sure he would be much better at comforting you than I would be. Perhaps I could visit his work for you?”

“Oh, no- of course not! He is on bad enough terms with his boss already… Really, I’m fine. You can go back to the movie, sorry I made you worried…” You sat up.

“Incorrect.”

“Huh?” You asked, blinking at his objecting, and not sure what exactly you got wrong.

“You did not make me worried, I was simply concerned about the excessive amounts of fear you were under.” He explained, and to you it sounded like what you just said but with more words. “Perhaps you would get better results for sleeping if you attempted it on the couch. I will put something else on the television for you.” Gaster stood and started walking towards the door.

“What? No it’s okay, you don’t have to-” You quickly objected, pausing when he turned back to face you with glowing haloes. White, so he wasn’t using his magic, but it was still very ominous in the darkness of the room.  

“I know I do not have to do anything you request. However, you did not request this of me, correct?” He offered, slight tilt of his head. “Living room.” He finished, gracefully turning away and walking out of your sight.

Your head spun at the confusing roundabout way Gaster seemed to care about you, and quickly slipped out of your bed and grabbed the blanket and pillow. When you got to the living room, Gaster was sitting on one side of the couch, the rest of it had been cleared. You paused, not exactly knowing how Gaster wanted you to sleep on the couch with him on it. He saw your hesitation and patted the armrest next to him.

“Papyrus told me that humans calm down when their head is being rubbed, similar to dogs, is that correct?” He asked, and you had to hold back your laughter.

“I mean…  I suppose? Last time Papyrus did it to me it really helped, but that was when Sans was… well...” You trailed off, not exactly sure if that was still a touchy subject. Gaster nodded anyway, repeating the patting motion to the armrest.

“Then rest your head here, I shall try my best to comfort despite my inexperience.” His gaze went back to the tv, and you saw that he had just some human show on with the volume low as it possibly could without it being muted, subtitles on. You felt a bit awkward about it but maybe he had a good idea. You placed the pillow on his lap and carefully crawled on, getting your head comfortable on the arm rest.

You felt the blanket adjusted to be more even on you before Gaster’s holed hand rested on top of your head, startling you ever so slightly. Gaster let out a low chuckle.

“Do not be so jumpy with me. The point of this is to calm you down.” Despite what he said, his voice still sounded slightly humored. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thankful that you weren’t facing him. “Go ahead and rest. No aliens from other planets will be after you tonight. I shall fend them off for you.”

You couldn’t help but to give a laugh at that. “Pft. Thanks Gaster... I really appreciate it.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to take comfort in the slow motions Gaster’s hand made atop your head. After a little while he rested his other hand on your back, getting into a more comfortable position himself.

The quiet background noise of the tv helped keep the images of the alien from the movie out of your head, and you felt your breathing slow, and darkness accept you.

.

It is just a game.

It is just a game.

It is just a game.

You had to keep repeating that phrase to yourself as you ran in the office hallways, feeling the panic rising up inside of you. Even though you couldn’t remember how you ended up testing someone’s new Virtual Reality game they made. They didn’t tell you it was a horror game.

They didn’t tell you how realistic everything would seem.

You could see the damp mold along all of the edges of the walls, the spiderwebs that caught the flickering fluorescent lights just right, the sound of something coming from the hallways behind you. You hated it.

Trying to keep whatever was behind you as far back as physically possible, you kept running until you met another hallway intersection. Three choices laid before you, none of them ones you would ever choose in any other circumstances. The one to your left was drenched in darkness, but the bright light further down that way allowed you to see a massive lump silhouette against one of the walls, like a cocoon of some sort. The middle choice had better but still dim lighting, but you could see where the tiles have been broken up and replaced with something lumpy and fleshy, and you could see it pulse and move. The rightmost choice was a hallway that had a flickering light, allowing you to make out scratches and cracks all along it’s floor and walls.

This choice was a lot easier than some of the other hallways, at least. You gritted your teeth and ran through the right hallway, only to notice the bugs crawling out of cracks as you already started making your way down. You smacked your hands over your mouth to keep from screaming as you ran, trying to keep your eyes ahead of you.

Another intersection, another choice. You could feel whatever what was following you though their heavy footsteps, that were steadily getting closer. You stopped considering all of the choices, and settled with just going with the first option that you saw that didn’t look alive.

Left. Right. Straight. Straight. Left.

You refused to look behind you as you charged down the hallways, feeling as if the thing was just feet away from you at this point. But finally, after so many intersections, you noticed a doorway up ahead. You practically cried out of joy when you saw that, so happy to be over with this. You saw more options of doorways down the hall, but you went into the the first room you saw and reached for the door handle.

Only for your hand to grab empty air.

“Wrong choice.” A voice that you couldn’t determine if it was masculine or feminine said almost happily, and the air in the empty room went cold.

The heavy footsteps slowed down, and your breath caught in your throat as you gradually turned to face the monster for the first time.

It was not any monster from the underground.

It was Horror itself.

The entire being looked vaguely humanoid, however about three times as large and made of knotted grey flesh, composed of too many faces and not enough eyes. It was smiling without teeth in any of its mouths, and you could see movement under its skin stretch outwards, like something was trapped inside and reaching for you. It took another step forward, it’s thick feet stomping wetly to the ground at a relaxed, slow pace. It knew it won.

You brought your hands to your mouth as you screamed and backed more into the empty room, watching in terror as the only exit of the room was the one the Horror was using as an entrance.

“I want out. Let me out. I’m done. Game over. Let me out.” You screamed, grabbing at your face and trying to get ahold of the headset, only to not feel anything except yourself. It wasn’t a game. It was too real to be a game. You cried out as you tried grabbing the headset again, knowing you wouldn’t be able to escape from the Horror. You were done for.

“Calm down.” A familiar voice uttered right next to you, and you felt a warm embrace from someone much taller than you. The next moment you felt the sensation of teleporting, and the two of you dropped an inch onto damp carpet. Warm hands grabbed the sides of your face and turned you to face their owner.

“... Gaster?” You whispered, voice strained from your crying. It has been a while since you’ve seen him so serious. “What… What are you doing here? I-I-... I thought-” The floor shook under you, and you could feel the Horror running again, looking for you.

“You are in a dream.” Gaster explained, keeping his hands firm to the sides of your face, making sure you didn’t look anywhere except for at him. The words sounded strange, echoing despite nothing else echoing in the hallway. Dream… Dream…

“A… dream?” You asked, and suddenly felt very aware of everything around you, more in the moment. Your eyes widened, realizing what he said was true. “Wake me up, Gaster, please. I don’t want to be here anymore.” You started sobbing again. Gaster embraced you.

“Shh shh shh…” Gaster’s soft shushing caught you off guard, and you could feel his arms tighten around you, one hand behind your head and keeping you close. “The fact you didn’t immediately wake up at that… means we have to be clever.”

“Just wake me up, please, Gaster.” Your voice strained harder as you felt broken, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the terrible nightmare. He replied with more gentle shushing, slowly releasing you from his tight embrace. The stomping was getting closer.

“Listen to me carefully.” Gaster knelt down to eye level for you- something he has never done before. “I cannot wake you up. We need to finish the dream.” You felt more tears build up at his words, but he brought his hand up and brushed them away with his thumb, ignoring the growing stomps. “It will only come back to haunt you later if we do not finish this now. We need to defeat the nightmare.” He said slowly and clearly, and every time you tried to see past him he would gently bring your attention to him.

“We can’t. Did you see that thing? Its…. its…” You tried explaining, but Gaster only smiled.

“Just a dream.” He finished the sentence for you, slowly standing up and turning to face the hallway. He kept one hand behind him as if to keep you back, and waited.

A silent moment passed. Then another.

Part of the hallway exploded into bits as the Horror crashed into the corner, turning directions too quickly, and quickly righted itself and charged at you. It’s flesh rolled within itself as it stomped closer, making indescribable sounds as it moved. Gaster’s hand swung up and darkness tangled with its feet, tripping it up for just a second before orange lights slashed through the air- cutting the Horror into large pieces that toppled to the ground, no blood to be seen.

Gaster slowly lowered his extended hand back to his side, paused for a moment, before turning back to you with a smile. “See? No big deal.” He knelt down in front of you again. “You do not need to be afraid of monsters when you are surrounded by them.” He said, though most of what he was saying passed right by you as you watched the grey flesh from behind him float up and start stacking on top of the other parts.

“Hhhh… Hhhh….Haaaaahhhhhh…..” You were breathing too hard to form any words, and your legs refused to follow your commands to run. Gaster’s smile dropped when he saw your expression, and turned just in time to react to a fist slamming down to where he was a moment ago.

You would have noted he had extraordinary reflexes, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was now pulling you this way and that, avoiding the attacks of the Horror by inches at a time. He quickly wrapped his arms around you again and once again you two teleported.

Back into the empty room. The stomping starting up again.

You couldn’t take it. You collapsed onto the ground, sobbing into your hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry…” You could feel Gaster’s eyes on you, but you continued with your apology. “I took too long making choices, I kept going safe, I kept choosing comfortable routes and I took too long- if I was faster- if I just went through those stupid ugly halls I could have had more time- time to look at the fucking doors and choose the right room and- and- and- and-”

“...Are you really going through all of that on your own?” Gaster’s quiet voice stopped your thoughts in their place. You looked up at him with your puffy face, seeing him standing with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were trained on you, the halos seemed dull.

“What?” You asked, only to feel the stomping getting closer. You couldn’t help but feel the terror tightening around your heart, and you let out another choked sob. Gaster sat down in front of you and placed his hands on the sides of your face again, this time his brow bones slightly lowered.

“You have been feeling this trapped for this long?” He asked, you didn’t understand. “Do you weigh all of your choices so heavily that you think in the end, you think they will be life or death for you?” He seemed so concerned for you… but you couldn’t figure out what he was getting at. Seeing your confusion, he took a breath and tried again. He quietly said your name, softening his hold on you. “Let us start over. How did you end up here?”

“...Here?” The stomping echoed around the room. “Someone… offered me a game. Then I was trapped- I had no choice but to run and try to get away… but I made the wrong choices and now it’s coming for us because I failed-” Your words were quickly running together as your panic rose, and Gaster placed a finger over your lips.

“It is rigged.”

The words caused time to freeze, and you stared wide-eyed at Gaster. He continued. “The game is rigged. There are no right choices, no happy endings. It is a game that is predetermined to make you suffer, before giving you dissatisfaction. You were trapped in here thinking that there was a way to survive, when there is none.” Each word felt like a punch to the gut as the helplessness set into your bones.

“There are no happy endings…?” You repeated, voice still shaking.

“None. The people that made the game lied about those to trick you into playing it.” He nodded, eyebrow bones lowered. “They wanted you to play for their enjoyment, not yours. Now, is that fair?”

You felt your breath strained as you looked down, thoughts hanging up on the no happy endings. No happy endings. No happy endings. “No… That isn’t fair at all.” You said quietly, feeling the pressure of defeat pressing all around you.

“Then you should not play fair yourself.”

Time became normal again, and you felt the floor shaking as the Horror was closing the distance to you two. Gaster quickly stood up and offered a hand to you. “I know you dislike using Console Commands, but I do think the game needs them this time to be playable.”

You accepted his hand and he pulled you up, only for the Horror to appear in your view behind him in the doorway. You felt the fear tug you backwards again, but Gaster kept a tight grip on your hand, and stepped behind you, giving you a clear view of the Horror and all its grotesqueness.

“Here. I am here to help.” Gaster motioned with his free hand, and a keyboard made of orange light appeared in front of you. The Horror stepped forward, slowly again, thinking it won once more. It just needed a few more steps and it would crush the two of you. “Go on. Show the creators what happens when they make a rigged game.” He urged you to the keyboard.

The Horror took another step forward, and you finally reached for the keyboard and pressed the [~] key. The world shimmered before you, growing slightly brighter, and more of the texture seams became visible. Your fear was still thick in your blood as the Horror took another step closer, but you quickly typed a command onto the keyboard and raised two fingers at the Horror, pressing enter and speaking the command.

“Kill.”

The Horror exploded into dust, turning into bright light before vanishing completely. You felt a smile on your face for the first time since the dream started. Your smile grew slightly as you looked at your hands, wondering what else you could do with the Console Commands while you were here. You quickly typed [tg] and tapped the enter button, and grass immediately grew through the tiled ground. You felt yourself giggle and you found yourself typing one string of commands after another, some that you weren’t even sure if they were real commands, but they all seemed to have an effect on the dream you were in.

You took away ceilings, then walls, then toggled the sun on. Gravity was lowered, and all enemies were removed from area- just for good measure. It was just you and Gaster, in a beautiful valley full of grass in broad daylight. You jumped and turned to face him, and he instinctively grabbed your hand to keep you from floating up too far. You used his hand to pull yourself closer to him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“... Thank you.” You whispered, and it took a moment before Gaster embraced you back.

“I told you I would help fend off any aliens after you tonight.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“I don’t think that was an alien though…”

“It sure was not based off of the alien from the movie, I could tell that much, but I will warn you that I will be insulted if you simply classify that creature as a monster.” Gaster lightly threatened, and you huffed part of a laugh.

“I mean- sure, okay it was an alien. Thank you anyway, Gaster.” You smiled, not able to thank him enough for getting you out of that nightmare. “... How are you here, by the way?” You looked up at him, slowly coming to the conclusion that this was actually Gaster, not just your dream version of him.

“I have a wide range of abilities, including one that allows me to haunt the subconsciousness of others.” He said, keeping his eye halos to the horizon. “When I noticed you having a nightmare, I only meant to observe what it was about- I never intended to get involved.”

“So why did you save me?” You asked, and you could tell he was purposely avoiding looking at you. He was silent for a moment, seeming to choose his words carefully.

“I needed to keep my word, that is all.” He settled with, letting go of the hug. You watched him as he kept his head turned away, and give him a light punch. That startled him and he looked down at you.

“Daw, you care about me.” You smiled, and he tried to mask his face with unamusement, though you could see though it. He raised a finger as if he was going to tell you that you were wrong again.

“Correct.” He smiled at your shock at him actually admitting it, seeming to hold back his own laugh. “Though I must admit, I did not do as much as you think I did. I just bought you time to take control of your own dream.” He looked down and brushed his foot through the lush grass.

“What do you mean? You gave me the keyboard.” You bounced slightly, enjoying the low gravity. He watched you, entertained at your lazy floating.

“I gave you the illusion of a keyboard. Nothing but a light show.” He held out his hands, and more orange lights danced between them. “You believed in it, and willed your actions to change your dream. Think of it as… Kickstarting lucid dreaming.” He offered simply, a rather out of character thing for him to do.

“Huh. Well, thank you for that.” You smiled, tapping a finger on your cheek as you gently bounced on one foot. “Would you do me one more favor, since we are here?”

He nodded, seeming to expect you wanting something more of him. “What is your request?”

“Catch me!” You cheered, leaping up into the air and gradually floating backwards.

You heard Gaster’s breath catch and he jumped after you, expertly catching you in a bridal position mid air. After a moment, the two of you gracefully landed onto the soft grass, and you saw Gaster looking at you as you were having giggling fits. You could see him trying to mask a smile on his face as he sighed and shook his head. “So, now what?” You asked between your giggles. He considered a moment before bringing his mouth close to your ear.

“I think it is time to wake up.”

You felt your leg jerk, and your vision spun for a moment before you realized you were still in the living room. The tv was quiet, and the room had long gone cold. You noticed you were still perfectly warm however, as you felt Gaster’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, a hand placed on the back of your neck, keeping you close to his chest. His grip loosened, and he looked down at you with his bright haloed eyes.

“No more nightmares without me, alright?” He asked.

You nodded.

[sparda3g]

Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 124 Review

In this series, it's tough to be completely happy with whatever that seems good or a moment that the fans have been waiting for. While the last couple of pages are the main highlight that has everyone talking, the chapter itself has a lot to talk about with its moving words, a sudden development, and an eerie foreshadow.

It does surprise me with its direction that I didn't feel cheated or disappointed. It maintains the characters in their rightful track. It's the matter of timing to execute one narrative or another. It also leads up to a different point that I left wondering on what to expect for the next. It does resume the nature of buildup, but it works well since it is building up into a great deciding factor of Tokyo.

I said many times that there's a good chance that Touka would lash out and beat the crap out of Mutsuki. Instead, her character goes into "fight first, emotion later;" meaning she continues to portray the way she has. It's fitting that despite how rash she can be, she's smart enough to maintain her cool, especially this is her best friend we're talking about. Also, Yoriko is under arrest, which I am still worried about her status. Surprised that Mutsuki does maintain order of CCG. I wonder how Takeomi would react.

Despite that Touka plays it like a stranger to Yoriko, that kick of hers and her expression let you know that deep down, she's freaking pissed. I like how this was handled and Mutsuki still couldn't break Touka as much as she wanted to. To make matter worse, Kaneki reminds some fans, who for whatever reason think he's too weak, that he still got it.

It was pretty sweet that Kaneki was just dodging and wait until he can fight again, timing the drug wearing out. You got to love how he called Aura a greenhorn, obviously reference to rookie. It's as if Kaneki heard the comments and respond back with ease. I know that he wasn't that easy to be dealt with. Like I said before, the real trouble is how long he has to wait until he can help again rather than he will get manhandled easily. The problem does arise with Oggai's arrival.

Ever wonder what would have been like if Mumen Rider was in this series? Look no further than Oggai with a funny exchange with Kaneki. He's like, "Seriously..." in which one kid responds, "Yeah, we are under 18." That sense of humor from Ishida is quite something. Maybe he could do a gag manga next. Anyway, those bikes aren't ordinary as wheels can cause explosion or something. That's always nice; all the more reason for me to not ride one.

After many speculations I gone through, this one decides to call the battle off and run away, leaving :re cafe on fire. At least it won't be another raid on a cafe, but it makes me wonder the prime target area. Mutsuki lost her mind that even Oggai calls her scary. It's the best time to calm her down before the next set of action begins, presuming Urie having a chat with her. Otherwise, her destination is going to end at death.

After the action scene, it mellows down with couple of discussion time with various characters; all of which are moving in their own rights and deliver a meaningful insight of life. Tomoe, the girl that Takizawa forced her to assist him back at Rue Island, reappears here. I would admit, I thought Ishida forgot about her since she just disappeared in the last arc. I have to remember that he remembers his characters dearly.

The discussion centers on the cause of destruction and what leads to it. It's a strong message on how everything has its origin. Tatara taught her that the sense of smell is where it begins and from that point on, it leads to the chain of devastation. While it does interpreted on how much of a leader he was, it does give an eerie feeling that the destruction is upon them. All it takes is one tracked location.

It leaves you feeling frightened with the thought of the worst has yet to come. It is true that one small moment of grasp can start a chain that ultimately leads to one of their downfall. Much like learning about your enemy's location, it allows you to update and perhaps gain a huge advantage. That all said this is a reference to the thought that the ghouls may have nowhere to live if Furuta's reign continues.

The cross reference to that is with Suzuya and Urie's conversation. I love how Urie manages to slip in and calls Furuta a piece of shit; such a great way to use the thoughts. This surprisingly has a deep and heartfelt conversation about war especially that it's coming from Suzuya out of all people. I like how Urie joins in as if he needs that comforting as well.

Suzuya has a speech about his point of view on war. The eerie part is that he reflects this moment similar to Anteiku Raid, and that worries me a lot. Because of it, it leaves him thinking that a lot of people are going to die, and coming from him, he knows that. He truly has developed a lot from that time; if he didn't, he probably be hyped about it. Instead, this makes him think if it's fine to keep living the way it is today; just deal with ghouls and proceed on living. Now it feels like extermination is coming.

This troubles me on how it feels like we must expect the next arc to be a massive game changer. I still find it feeling like it's the last arc before we move to the next chapter of the series. The paper airplane is a haunting parallel to Anteiku Raid Arc, so could this really be the arc to change the direction entirely?

The last discussion piece and the main highlight for many is the Touka and Kaneki’s moment. As I said it before, Touka lets out her discomforting feeling about Yoriko, though perhaps holding back some. It's ironic that she's the one that talked about killing a human friend if they are caught being a Ghoul, yet she has to turn to Kaneki and talk about desiring to help one. You can somewhat call it karma.

It's depressing because not only they share the same problem of wanting to see, but Kaneki, looking torn, couldn't answer in a good manner about the desire to see a friend or in his case, Hide. You can tell that although he doesn't want to meet them because he would recklessly lose his sight, he appears that he is hurt by that thought alone. He would sacrifice his friendship if it would mean to keep him safe, even if it does pains him throughout his life. That's hard to accept.

This chapter leans more towards the showcase of emotions when it comes to visual. As solid it is in the action scene, the emotional expression is what compels me and rightfully so. These characters are going through many hardships that begin to question their state of mind. What's right and what's wrong no longer has an easy path to walk through. There's that paper airplane that leaves a frightening note. Kaneki's expression on desire to see a friend is well spot on with the look of pain.

So, let's get to the real meat of the chapter, no pun intended. The cliffhanger has undoubtedly piqued my interest, pairing fan or not. Touka shoves Kaneki and proceed to approach him really close and it ends there. I don't know if this is Ishida's mind game, but it highly suggest that Touka has kiss him off-panel or more like you don't see the kiss, but the position does suggest it. Now, is it really a kiss?

I would say it does appear to be. It's similar to Akira and Amon's intimate moment. I know that the kiss scene has been done "hidden" but what if Ishida is toying with that approach and makes you think that with Touka and Kaneki? I'm not doubting that it is a kiss scene, I'm all in for it, but it could be a troll move on his end. The next chapter's preview suggests the continuation from this, so expect a concrete answer. 

What made Touka to approach him like that? It has been said that love making can calm the stress. In fact, I have seen this act a couple of time in media, including Code Geass. It's understandable since she lost someone and her cafe no less. That really got to put her at an uneasy position. Not to mention, the way of how Kaneki said about friends could have moved her to approach him quick before something worse will happen to one. So if it's a kiss scene, that's great. Unfortunately, there's a huge flag with a skull next to me waving tremendously and I only feel sick. 

This is a moving chapter that ends a fun action and leads to series of deep conversation. Characters begin to doubt their position, life, and feelings. All of which have signify that the next arc will be the moment of their life will change forever. It's a feeling that it wants you to feel happy about a possible dream come true, but in hindsight, we should prepare for a nightmare.