#every so often ill reach a breaking point with Everything and then work myself to even further burn out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzsauce01 · 3 years

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Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #guardian angel au #anniversary special #20210816

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thisbeatchachinglikemoney · 3 years

Text

Danger

Part 12 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Yoonkook make up and the search for Y/N is underway (this one will just be from the members point of view)

Warnings: Self harm, suicidal thoughts, Jungkook is in quite a dark place

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles, @aclowe13

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys!

Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

It had been a few days since Y/N had been taken and Jungkook had not come out of his room. Not even to eat. It was worrying Jin that his youngest boyfriend had shut himself off from everyone. Jin was actually reaching his limit. His baby needed to come out soon or else he would break down the door.

Namjoon was right - they all needed to stick together. It would make the whole ordeal a lot easier to go through with as they had each other to lean on. Y/N had no one which was something Jin was worried about. Yoongi had told them all about the conversation he had had with Y/N after Jackson had found her at Disneyland, and Jin was worried. They all were. The police had been informed of the possible intentions and Y/N’s case was a top priority. They had people working on it day and night.

Jin sighed as he knocked on Jungkook’s door. “Kookie, please, let me in.” He begged. “Hyung needs to talk to you. To know you are okay. Please baby. Please.” There was still no answer. If Jin pressed his ear to the door and listened hard enough, he was able to hear soft sobs. He was scared for Jungkook. The boy had been close to self-harming a few years ago, and he didn’t want that to happen again.

He remembered when they found out. It was the second year of their relationship and Jungkook, who was usually the cuddly fluffball of the group, was withdrawn and quiet, often speeding up to his room and locking the door whenever they came back from dance practices and recordings. Yoongi had been telling them that something felt off, but whenever they confronted the maknae about it, he would dismiss it as not feeling well, or would even go as far as to ignore them completely.

It had gotten to the point where Yoongi insisted that they get inside Jungkook’s room and adjoining bathroom. The night they did that, using Namjoon to break down the door after Jungkook would not open, they discovered Jungkook stood with a razor blade hovered above his wrist. Yoongi had wasted no time and had knocked the razor out of his hand, bundling the younger up in his arms and whisking him away to talk. Yoongi was always the best at this, being experienced himself in the matter of depression. Yoongi still had his bad days, but he would spend them curled up next to either Hoseok or Jin while he voiced his feelings to the whole group.

And Jin was now feeling that exact same feeling. He needed to get to Jungkook. He needed to know he was okay. “Jungkook, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to have to break it down myself.” There was still no answer.

Jin was terrified. What if the maknae had cut too deep and had been bleeding out in the bathroom for the past few hours? What if he had tried to kill himself and been injured badly? What if he had killed himself?

“Joon!” Jin called out for the younger member as he ran to the man’s studio, banging on the door. Namjoon opened the door, looking both hopeful and scared.

“Have they found her? Is she alive?” Jin felt his heart break at the look on Namjoon’s face.

“Oh, Joonie, no, I’m sorry. They haven’t found her yet.” He said, pulling the younger into a hug. “But it’s Kook. I’m worried about him. I’m getting the same feeling I did before. I’m scared Joon. I can’t lose two of them.”

“What do you need me to do?”

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

Taehyung was curled up in Hoseok’s side, tear tracks running down his sleep-swollen cheeks. Every single night, he had cried himself to sleep for the loss of Y/N, as well as Yoongi and Jungkook, and it broke Hoseok’s heart at how hurt they all were. He wanted to kill Jackson for putting them all through this. The police were in the process of locating him - they were getting in touch with the tracking company to request the location of the phone, but it was taking longer than wanted as the company was not open on the weekend. This had made Bang PD-nim start to look into other tracking companies that were open 24/7 just in case this happened again, which Hoseok prayed it didn’t.

He glanced over at the clock and saw it was almost time for dinner. Taehyung had completely lost his appetite, so Hoseok had been forcing him to eat to keep himself healthy. They had all been forcing themselves to eat, apart from Jungkook who had locked his bedroom door and was not coming out at all.

He rubbed a hand over Tae’s back gently, a faint smile ghosting over his lips when he felt his hand tighten on his shirt, the longer fingers twisting the fabric.

“Tae baby, you need to wake up. We need to go and eat.” Hoseok said softly, making Taehyung whine and nestle into him.

“No Hobi hyung, I’m not hungry.” He said, his deep voice scratchy and slurred.

“I know, baby, but we have to. We need to keep healthy. It’s what Y/N would want.” Hoseok reminded him. Taehyung shook his head.

“I’m not hungry! I don’t want to eat! I just want Y/N back!” Taehyung cried. Hoseok sighed sympathetically and pulled the younger on top of him, wrapping his arms around his back.

“I know, baby, I know. So do I. But if we aren’t healthy, we could be in hospital when they find her, okay? She wouldn’t want us to hurt ourselves.” Hoseok said softly. “So let’s go down and have some ramen and then we can come back here and cuddle okay?”

“Can we see if Jungkookie wants to come eat with us?” Taehyung looked at his hyung. Hoseok nodded and stroked his cheek gently.

“Of course we can.” He kissed Tae’s forehead. “Come on, let’s go.”

----------

Jimin pushed open Yoongi’s bedroom door with his foot, his hands carrying two bowls of rice and kimchi. Yoongi hadn’t been doing too well; the pain of losing Y/N as well as the guilt of hurting Jungkook had not settled with him at all and continuously made him feel worse as the days dragged on. Jimin hoped that it would be over soon.

“Hyung, I’ve got us some food.” Jimin said softly, setting the bowls down on the bedside table before climbing onto the bed. Yoongi hummed and pulled the younger onto his lap. “How are you feeling?” He asked, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Not good.” Yoongi replied. “I feel awful, actually. I just wish Jungkookie would let me talk to him. That’s one thing I can fix.” Jimin nodded and grabbed the bowls.

“It’s okay, hyung. It will all be okay.” The smaller boy comforted him before lifting some rice to his hyung’s mouth. “Now eat something, please.”

“I’m really not hungry, Jiminie.” Yoongi said, glancing at the chopsticks in front of him.

“I know, but Hobi hyung said we need to eat to stay healthy because that’s what Y/N would want.” Jimin said, holding the chopsticks in front of his mouth. “Just a few mouthfuls, please, I don’t want you to get ill.”

“Fine.” Yoongi opened his mouth and allowed Jimin to feed him. “You know, I should be the one taking care of you because I’m older.”

“But you’re my boyfriend and I love you.” Jimin reminded him. “So I’m allowed to take care of you.”

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asked, taking the bowl out of Jimin’s hands and putting his hands on his waist. Jimin stilled. He hadn’t admitted how he was feeling just yet. Not even to himself. He had pushed his feelings down so he could take care of Yoongi.

“I...” Jimin trailed off, making Yoongi narrow his eyes at him. “I don’t know...”

“Okay, Jiminie. That’s okay. You’re probably feeling so many things that you can’t distinguish between each one.” Yoongi said. He reached over and took some rice out of the bowl with the chopsticks. “Your turn.” Jimin opened his mouth and ate the rice.

“Hyung? Why don’t you go and see if Jungkookie will talk to you? Jin hyung said he hadn’t left his room in ages. I’m scared for him.” Jimin said after swallowing his mouthful of rice.

“I can try, baby. After we finish eating I’ll try and talk to him, okay?” Yoongi stroked Jimin’s hair out of his face. “You eat too, little one.”

“I’m only one centimetre shorter than you, Min Yoongi!” Jimin playfully hit Yoongi’s arm.

“Yeah but you’re still my little one since you’re younger than me and everything about you is tiny and cute.” Yoongi said taking Jimin’s smaller hands in his.

“My dick isn’t small, hyung!” Jimin whined. Yoongi hummed and kissed Jimin’s forehead.

“Yes, but it is smaller than everyone else.” Yoongi pointed out. “But I love each and every part of you.” He leaned up and pecked Jimin on the lips. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“I love you.” Jimin grabbed his bowl and began to eat. “I miss Y/N, though. I’m worried for her.”

“I miss her too.” Yoongi replied, a frown on his face. “I want to kill him for taking her. I need her back with me.”

“She needs to be back with all of us. I don’t even want to think about what’s happening to her. She must be in so much pain.” Jimin set down his bowl.

“But the police are finding their location as soon as they can and as soon as that has been found, we will have Y/N back with us.” Yoongi said. Jimin knew that he was seeing the positive side of things, and trying not to think of the worst-case scenario.

“Okay, I’m going to go and talk to Jungkook.” Yoongi finished his rice and set the bowl aside. “Why don’t you go and have a shower? I’ll be back soon.”

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

Everything felt grey to Jungkook. Just grey. One of the seven lights of his life were gone and the others had dimmed to nothing, leaving everything murky shades of grey. He was wearing one of his tshirts that Y/N would always wear for bed. It smelt like her and that helped the aching hole inside of me, but it did nothing for the endless amounts of guilt he felt.

This was all his fault. If only he had gone home with her, then she would still be with them. He was stupid and not worthy of being her soulmate.

His door had been locked since she had been taken and every so often one of his hyungs would knock and beg him to open. But he couldn’t let them in. He didn’t want to be met with their disappointed faces. He probably wouldn’t be able to ever face them again.

He stretched his arms, ignoring the pain that lanced from his wrists and the growling of his empty stomach. He looked down at his forearms and saw his bandages had become bloody. Time to change them. The cuts would only fuel his hyungs disappointment in him if they found out.

He shuffled into the bathroom, avoiding his image in the mirror, knowing that he looked awful with an unshaved face and unwashed hair. He unwrapped the bandages and rinsed his arms under the water to wash off the blood.

Cut more You deserve it You deserve this pain It’s all your fault

Ever since Y/N had been taken the voices had come back and Jungkook had succumbed to what they were telling him to do. He looked at his arms, the red lines criss-crossing the lengths of his forearms, slashing through some of his tattoos.

That’s it Jungkook Let yourself feel what Y/N is feeling Your hyungs are so disappointed in you You should just end it all now

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the bloodied razor he had been using. He slashed it over his wrists again.

Go deeper Jungkook Deep enough to kill But not yet You still have to suffer

Jungkook pressed harder, his skin splitting apart and blood running out, streaming down his arms. He sobbed to himself, the neverending pressure of the guilt weighing down on him, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. He slammed his hands onto the sink, leaving bloodied handprints and smears on the white porcelain before staggering over to his room and collapsing on the bed, letting him exhaustion wash over him. He hadn’t cut deep enough to kill himself. He had to suffer more first.

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

Yoongi could feel something was wrong. Very wrong. Wrong enough to make his stomach churn and his heart pound faster. He sat up quickly, accidentally waking up Jimin who hummed and looked around sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, Min.” Yoongi said softly. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to check on Jungkook.” He kissed Jimin softly and gently pushed him down so he was lying down. Jimin hummed and closed his eyes, a hand clutching at the blankets surrounding him. He smiled at the younger boy before slipping out the room and making his way over to Jungkook’s room.

When he got there, he saw Jin and Namjoon attempting to break down the door. Yoongi looked at the pair of them with an eyebrow raised.

“He’s been in there too long, Yoongs. This ends now. He needs to know that we all love him and want him around and that we don’t blame him. He needs to know that you don’t blame him.” Jin said, stepping back as Namjoon rammed his shoulder into the door, a loud bang echoing through the house. Namjoon hissed but ignored the apparent pain as he continued to bang into the door. There was a loud crack and the door swung open.

“Oh God!” Jin screamed, hands covering his mouth. Yoongi’s heart stopped. No. Not Jungkook too. He couldn’t lose both of them.

He pushed Jin out of the way and was met with the sight of blood. So much blood. Jungkook was lying on his bed, eyes closed. Yoongi watched closely hoping and praying to see the rise and fall of his chest. He saw Jungkook breathe and it was steady.

“Joon, take Jin hyung somewhere else. I’ve got this.” Yoongi said, rubbing Namjoon’s shoulder. The younger looked hesitant but led Jin away. Yoongi took a deep breath and entered the room. There was a lot of blood, covering the bedsheets and Kookie’s arms. There were smears on the wall in the shapes of fingers and hands, where he had clearly dragged himself to bed. Yoongi felt his heart break. Not his Kookie. His happy bunny.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I am so so sorry.” He said, stroking the youngest’s hair before going into the bathroom to get some warm water and disinfectant and bandages. They needed to be careful with Jungkook now. He gently reached out and took hold of Jungkook’s hand, straightening out his arm so he could clean away all the blood and germs. He dipped one of the towels into the water and squeezed it before wiping it over the maknae’s arms.

“Oh, Kookie.” He sighed, seeing the numerous cuts that were still healing - some being scabbed over, but others still open. He sprayed some disinfectant over his arms and wrapped bandages around them. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hyung is so sorry.” Yoongi felt awful. If only he hadn’t yelled at Jungkook then this would not have happened.

He quickly cleaned up the room before collapsing on the bed next to the younger boy. “I love you so much, Jeon Jungkook.” He whispered before closing his eyes and pulling the younger closer to him. He kissed his forehead before allowing himself to fall asleep next to the maknae.

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

When Jungkook woke up he could feel arms around his waist which was strange considering he had locked his door. He frowned as he opened his eyes, looking around his room to figure out what was going on. His arms had been bandaged and cleaned which he didn’t remember doing, and his door was open. He paused. They must have knocked down the door.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the sleeping face and faded blond hair of his hyung, Yoongi. He gulped. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now, and if he got his way, not ever. He should just run away from them and never return. Then he would never have to face them for what he has done.

He pushed himself out of Yoongi’s arms and walked over to his wardrobe, throwing his clothes into some bags.

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” He heard a sleepy yet stern voice ask from behind him.

“Noth-nothing?” Jungkook winced as his voice rose in pitch at the end, making it sound like he wasn’t sure about what he was saying.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you’re packing a bag of clothes.” Yoongi sat up in the bed, the sheets rustling. “Now put it down and come here.” Jungkook paused and reluctantly set down the bag before shuffling over to the bed and perching on the end.

“Look, hyung, I know it’s all my fault, can you please just leave me alone.” Jungkook said, but Yoongi ignored him and pulled him closer by his waist, being wary of his injured arms.

“Just listen to me, Koo, please.” Koo. He hadn’t been called that since Y/N had been taken. He felt a pang in his heart as he sniffled. He sighed and wiped his eyes as he looked at his hyung. Yoongi’s eyes softened as he reached out and wiped a stray tear from Jungkook’s cheek.

“I am so sorry I said that to you. I should never have said that. I was just angry and upset and I know that this is not a good excuse, but I just took it out on you. It’s not your fault. You were looking out for her and called someone to bring her home. How would you know that Sejin would have been intercepted and his phone stolen?”

Jungkook pursed his lips. He could hear what Yoongi was saying to him, but it wasn’t sinking in. He didn’t feel any less guilty. “But I should have gone home with her! I should have walked her to the car and made sure that it was actually Sejin. We all know how many people are out there to hurt us and I let my guard down, thinking that for one day there wouldn’t be hate or someone that wanted to hurt her, and look what happened!”

“Jungkook, stop, please!” Yoongi pulled the younger onto his lap, so Jungkook was facing him, legs either side of his hyung’s lap. “Stop beating yourself up about this. This is not your fault. It will never be your fault. None of us blame you. So, please, stop blaming yourself.”

“But-” Jungkook was quietened by Yoongi pressing a finger to his lips.

“So just stop blaming yourself. No buts, okay? We all love you, so much, and we were so worried when you didn’t come out of your room for days.” Yoongi gently lifted up Jungkook’s arm. “And now we know that this is one of the reasons for your hiding...” He trailed off, looking pointedly at the bandages on Jungkook’s arms.

“I’m sorry, hyung, I just, I needed to.” Jungkook sobbed.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby, please don’t cry.” Yoongi’s voice cracked as he pulled Jungkook into his chest. “We’ve got you. We’re always going to be here for you, okay? We can talk to you, be there for you, give you all of the cuddles in the world. Just please, don’t hurt yourself again. It’s dangerous and it could kill you, Koo.”

“That’s what I wanted.” Jungkook whispered.

“Shit, Kook.” Yoongi froze and stiffened. “No, no, no, baby, no.” He held onto Jungkook’s jaw, his thumb stroking gently. “Just talk to us, don’t lock yourself away. We’re going to help you through this, okay? It’s all going to be okay.”

“But I’m not okay, hyung. And I don’t think I ever will be until she’s back with us.” Jungkook had tears running down his cheeks. Yoongi did too.

“Neither am I, baby. But if we stick together, we should be alright.” Yoongi said. “I love you, so much, Jeon Jungkook. I hope you know that.”

“I love you more, Min Yoongi.” Jungkook leaned his forehead against Yoongi’s.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible, baby boy.” Yoongi kissed his lips. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook said, resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome, little prince.” Yoongi kissed his forehead. They cuddled for a while before Jimin. burst into the room.

“Hyung, they found her!”

#sub!reader #sub!taehyung #sub!jimin #sub!jungkook #switch!jin #dom!hoseok #dom!yoongi #dom!namjoon #bts #bts ot7 #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #boys with luv #soulmate au #danger #bts angst

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thecolordemon · 4 years

Note

Haha hi :) I already asked but I wanna do it properly here. So, can I request headcanons abt the brothers reactions after knowing that MC had an incurable disease and they're gonna die soon? Thanks! 💕 (Btw I LOVE ur drawing)

Of course you can😊 It will be my first time writing Angst in the english language🤣😅 but I hope you'll enjoy it either way because who doesn't like to suffer a little bit? @flyme--tothemoon I added some shortstorys to the headcanon because...I couldn't help myself.

Request: Headcanons-How would the brothers react after knowing that MC had an incurable disease and that they're gonna die soon?🥺😭

⚠️Angst, Sadness, mentions of illness and death⚠️

*Lucifer*:

he noticed some sickenly sweet scent lingering over your small frame since you arrived in Devildom

but he couldn't put his finger on it

he never lived among humans how could he know?

he couldn't

and that's the whole point

he asks you about it during having dinner with all of the brothers

when your laughter dies down everything else turns quiet too

he knows immediately that something is wrong

"Did someone else noticed it too?" you ask without looking up

they nod

"Well...I guess...I have to tell you something."

Angsty/Sad Short story (other brothers below):

They all looked at you with big eyes. Filled with questions and worries because of the sad little smile that crept on your face and conquered your lips like a dark sky swallowing the sun. All of them noticed that sickenly sweet scent over your normal aroma. They just didn't thought that it would be such a big deal... "Well...I guess...I have to tell you something."

You cleared your throat and put down your cutlery. It was weird...I kind of felt like the day where you got your deadly diagnosis.

But this time you were the doctor.

And your beloved demons were the patients.

You knew that you couldn't hide it from them forever. Being here was like a daydream and it made you forget your disease a little bit more every day. Living with the demons brought so much new adventures in your life that the illness seemed so far away. It was like you left it at home. In the human world. Somewhere where it couldn't reach you. Throughout the day you never wasted a single thought about your approaching death. And why would you? Death was unavoidable. In the end everbody dies...Just for you it meant, that death would greet you a little bit sooner.

"Two years ago...I fainted. I was not feeling good for a...very, very long time after this. And it did not get better. I thought I hit my head a little bit to hard on the concrete. I...vomited very often and that one night my parents took me to a hospital because of it. They wanted to make sure that I'm okay..." You stopped and looked down at you fingers which were intertwined with the black tablecloth. This night was branded inside your mind like a tattoo you never asked for. Neither did you like it. The brothers did not dare to interrupt you. You could just feel them all staring at you. It was so quiet...so terribly quiet.

"It truned out that...I have a very dangerous disease." you continued. The swallowing felt so much harder now...like something big and bitter was stuck in your throat. "And...sadly...there is no cure..." The bitterness stung in your eyes and you had to fight back the hot upcoming tears. The hopeless and shocked faces of your family were something you could never possibly forget. And right now all of the brothers had this exact same shattered expression on their faces. You bit your bottom lip and your nails digged into the soft skin of you thighs.

"...Is it...deadly?" Lucifer asked and his voice sounded oddly thin. For a little while you did nothing but to stare into space. You did not want them to see you cry. Not when you had to be strong for them again...but then you nodded.

"yes." you breathed. "Yes, it's deadly. They said I have 3 years left-"

The following opressive silence was broken when some of the brothers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. One of them dropped a knife. But nobody saied something. It was like some higher power turned the volume of the universe down. 'Well-' you thought to yourself. 'Maybe this is what shock sounds like...' When you forced yourself to look up, the effects of your confession showed.

All of them were pale. Nobody seemed to breath. Nobody talked. You could see them falling when you looked into their eyes. They were all being swallowed by the big black hole that was your disease and there was no safe shore in sight. You broke them...

All of them.

"I'm so sorry-" you whispered. "I'm sorry for doing this to you." None of them reacted. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks anymore. The salty liquid dribbled over your warm skin like raindrops over glass and ran down to your chin. "I wanted to tell you but--I couldn't-you all made me feel so good that finally I stopped worrying about it-I didn't mean to hurt you--please forgive me-" The sobs came out of your mouth like little hickups.

'They hate me--they hate me for breaking them-I'm a terrible person-'

Lucifer suddenly stood up. His jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists. He shoved his chair back and walked around the dinner table until he stood before you. Sadness and anger radiated of him like a upcoming thunderstorm and it scared you.

Would he hurt you? Would he send you back? Would he banish you from the Devildom?

You thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly embraced you in a very thight hug. His fingertips digged deep into the flesh of you back and he hold you so close as if you were going to disappear right on the spot. It took your breath away. "L-Lucifer?-"

The avatar of pride trembled. And there was something wet in your hair...was he crying?! Finally he spoke. His voice broken like a shattered mirror. "You're--telling us--that you're going to die--and still you're-apologizing for it?!-" His grip thightend. "I thought you would hate me now--" you cried desperately. His hug send shivers down your spine. "MC, you're part of our family-We could never hate you-" His voice broke again. "I'm the one who needs to apologize! I ripped you away from your human family! While you have such little time left-I brought you here without checking your whole background-my research was horrible and icomplete-I am the one who has to apologize! Not you! Not you!!" He grabbed you by your shoulders and now you were able to see it. He was really crying. Lucifer, the avatar of pride, was crying. His crimson red eyes were glassy and shimmered with so much regret.

"No-No don't say this Lucifer, please--I'm so happy here--this is my home too-I'm so glad I got the chance to meet all of you-" Your hand reached his wet cheek and he shivered when you did so. "You all made my time so much better than I could've ever imagined-And I'm so grateful-" You whimpered and burried your face in Lucifer's red tie. Your attention was pulled towards Mammon when you heared his sobbing.

*Mammon*:

"This--this is not fair--" Mammon stood up too and he trembled like an earthquake was running through his body. "Finally I meet someone who is nice to me-someone who listens to me-someone who doesn't treat me like shit or like I'm dump--and now-" His thin voice broke in a shaky cry. "I fucking love you-" He broke down and fell to his knees, his face twisted in deep hurt and despair. His glasses and cheeks were already covered in hot, steamy tears and his hands fisted into the rough carpet. Satans hand touched his back but even he did not know what to do. It was a sad single try to calm Mamon down but it didn't work. "Mammon--" you breathed with a hitching voice while still beeing hugged by Lucifer. "I'm sorry-"

"QUIET APOLOGIZING, WILL YA?!" he screamed and then went back to crying hopelessly. His horns showed. He was interrupted by Leviathan's weak voice.

*Leviathan*:

"I-I don't understand-", he whispered and stood next to the quivering Mammon. He looked like he saw a ghost. He was so pale that it looked like he was starting to disappear. His eyes were red and the tears streamed down like little waterfalls. His small frame trembled uncontrollably and his hands were deep inside his pockets. "We were having so much fun together-we were staying up all night together to play videogames-and now this all is--ending?" A new wave of tears gushed over his face. "This wasn't healthy at all--I hurt you-I didn't knew--I-I'm sorry-" His fingers fisted into his lilac hair and he pulled harshly as if he tried to wake himself from this nightmare. "You're my friend---" Asmodeus tried to stop him. "You will get bold-stop-" But he was also not in a good condition. Neither was Satan.

*Satan*:

He normally really payed close attention to his mimic and gesture. But right now...He couldn't even think straight. It was clearly visible that he was deeply upset and his left hand massages his torso like he had a heart attack. "MC-why didn't you tell us sooner?-" There were tears appearing in the corner of his eyes. "I read so much--maybe we could find a magic cure-I newly read a paragraph about-" But you interrupted him right away. "Satan--I know you want to stop it but--there is no solution in no book-I talked with Simeon about it-I asked if he could miracle it away--but he couldn't. He said that only guardian angles are allowed to do such a thing--and they have to be very powerful to do that-and since there are people on earth living under worse conditions-" Your voice broke and Satan looked away in shame when he couldn't stop the tears anymore. He hated not being in control-He would lose you-.

*Asmodeus*:

"God does not throw dice-" Asmodeus whimpered and everyone looked at him. His beautiful eyes were red and puffy from all the crying and not beautiful at all. It looked like he had a terrible allergy against something unknown. But right now he couldn't care less about his appearance. "That's something I always hated about god--They say there is a reason for everything but they won't tell you an actual reason--and then you're still stuck with your problems all by yourself-" He cried out in despair and hid his face behind his fingers. "-without a solution-" he added with a very thin voice. That was just to much for him and he had to cuddle up to Satan for more support. "How can they leave you to die--you-such a perfect human being like you-you should be the top of their creation-how is this possible-." His pink painted fingernails clawed over his flawless skin and left red stripes. He looked like a locked up animal-trying to break free.

*Beelzebub*:

Beelzebub is a quiet soul by nature. Not a man of big and a lot words. And now he seems even more quiet than before. He can't wrap his head around this new, horrible informations. He grew so fond of you, he needs you, you make him feel better-Fuck it all you brought his brother back! And now you're going to be punished with-Death?! That's not fair at all-that's not okay-he can't lose you-not like he lost Belphie-not like he lost Lillith-he-. With big steps he walked towards you and Lucifer. He towers above both of you like a big mountain that's ready to collapse. Without hestiation he pulls you and his oldest brother into a crushing hug. Tears dribble down from his face into your hair and mix with Lucifer's tears. "We can't lose you MC-your family-family means that nobody gets left behind-."

*Belphegor*:

He is the calmest of his brothers. At least it seems like that. He is just sitting there processing what you just said. You are going to die. In less than a year actually. You're going to die and this means that you're going to leave. His eyes flutter in confusion. He was never upset about humans dying. That's what they do. They live, they die. It's that simple. He knew that. He always knew that. He also knew that you were going to die. One day.

...But why so fast?! Why so damn fast?! His heart beats harder, nearly bursting with anger. His tail and horns appear and his whole demon form starts to mainfest in front of you and his brothers. "No!!", he shouts. "I'm not having this! We need to do something-we-" His eyes land on you and that's just to much. "Who do you think you are?! Huh?! You come down here and wreck our worlds, you live with us, you eat with us-you improve our lifes-and-now--" His tail flinches with agression. Belphie's eyes are drowing in tears as his angers makes place for the deep grief that takes over his whole body. He also, like Mammon, falls to his knees. "You can't leave Mc--I need you-"

(Okay I'm gonna leave now, I cried a little bit while writing and...yeah...maybe I'm just sensitive🥺 I hope it's angsty enough though...)

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defectivehero · 4 years

Note

Hellooo, love your writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write something about a villain taking care of a depressed hero (or it can be the other way around!)?

hey thanks!! i’m gonna do it the other way around- i hope you don’t mind!

tw: depression, suicidal thoughts, swearing, all that jazz ;(

Alex hadn’t been outside in a whole week. An ordinary person would be a bit concerned, perhaps putting it down as a sudden illness or a death in the family. But, no. Alex wasn’t sick. Alex wasn't grieving over the loss of a family member.

He looked up what he was feeling on Google, and got a wide variety of results. Suggestions for how to handle heartbreak, getting over the loss of a loved one, a survey about depression... Alex stopped reading after that.

He had been sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, when a loud buzzing sound made him look down at his phone. He rolled his eyes when he saw who was calling him. Cameron. Ugh.

Alex and Cameron had a quite complicated relationship, that was for sure. They were mortal enemies, or, at least, they were supposed to be. Alex was a villain, and Cameron was a hero. So why was Cameron calling him?

The phone continued ringing, and Alex clenched his teeth in annoyance. He pressed the ‘decline call’ button, then threw his phone onto the coffee table in front of the couch. The phone landed with a slam, nearly cracking the glass. He probably broke his phone, and yet, he couldn’t even find the energy to care. Tears streamed down his face, glistening against his tanned skin.

Everything felt like a chore- eating, brushing his teeth... Even getting out of bed was a challenge. More often than not, Alex would spend the day laying under his covers, holding back tears. It was quite a crushing feeling, to be completely honest. He had never felt so weak. It had gotten to the point where he hadn’t done any sort of villain work in weeks. It’s not like you were going to succeed anyways, a small voice in the back of his head said. His laptop was sitting on his nightstand, untouched from when he last set it down a month ago. He couldn’t help but think of that laptop as some sort of barrier- a constant reminder of his failure to truly accomplish anything. It was just barely within reach, so close and yet so far. Every time he thought of reaching out for it, he just couldn’t. His body wouldn’t let him. His mind wouldn't let him.

He heard a strange rapping-like noise, and glanced at the front door. There didn't seem to be anyone there. He looked down at his hands. What was he doing? Why was he here? Another rapping noise. He ignored it, shaking his head. Probably just the rain.

A couple seconds later, his front door burst open, and a cold draft flew through the house. “C-Cameron?” Alex whispered, shock evident in his voice. “Did you break in-”

“I just used your key,” Cameron grinned, holding up the key that Alex kept hidden on the front porch. The blond ran a hand through his wet hair, wiping his shoes against the carpet in the entryway before walking in. Alex followed the man’s gaze, his heart dropping to his stomach.

His apartment looked like shit. There were clothes everywhere- draped over the couch, piled on the floor... A pile of dirty dishes was balanced precariously in the stainless steel sink. There were papers scattered all over the table.

“Wait, it’s not-”

The hero looked at him, then scanned the room. Alex felt a pit of shame setting in the bottom of his stomach. Was Cameron here to gloat? Was that what he wanted? After all, they were always trying to one-up each other. Alex felt his eyes burning, and rubbed at them roughly, willing for the tears to stop streaming down his face.

“Go away,” Alex muttered. Cameron completely ignored him, continuing to amble around the room. Alex sighed, sitting back down on the couch and putting his head in his hands. He had never felt so embarrassed.

Alex wasn’t sure how long he sat there, closing his eyes and willing his mortification to go away. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours...

A tap on his shoulder made him jolt, whipping his head up and subsequently nearly head-butting Cameron. “S-sorry,” he muttered, getting up dizzily. He stumbled a bit, and Cameron reached his hand out to steady him. Once he steadied himself, he looked at the room around him and gasped.

The entire room was clean. All the dishes were gone, the clothes neatly folded in the corner, and all the other clutter was nowhere to be found. Alex felt a warm feeling spread to his chest. “I... Thank you,” Alex whispered, bringing a hand to his face in shock.

“No problem,” the blond smiled sweetly. “Now, how about some dinner?”

Alex found himself sitting down at his dining table an hour later, a steaming bowl of pasta in front of him. He glanced up at Cameron, who was sitting across from him. The blond nodded, and started eating. Alex had a bite, skeptical about Cameron’s cooking skills. But, he was pleasantly surprised. The pasta was quite good.

“So..” Cameron started hesitantly, waving his fork around. Alex glared at him. “You know what I’m going to ask,” he continued.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” “You need to,” the blond argued, shaking his head in exasperation. “I’m the perfect person to talk to.”

Alex snorted, rolling his eyes. “And why is that, may I ask?” he quipped.

“I’m a therapist, duh.”

“Oh.”

“I’m fairly decent, as I’ve been told,” Cameron mentioned nonchalantly, poking his fork into his pasta. Alex sighed, grabbing his water glass chugging it.

“If you tell me, I won’t bother you about it again,” Cameron offered, raising his hands in mock surrender. Alex sighed. He really wouldn’t be able to get out of this, would he?

“Alright, fine,” he groaned, averting his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Okay, so tell me,” Cameron started, putting his folded hands under his chin in contemplation, “when did all this start?”

“A couple weeks ago,” Alex replied, thinking back.

Cameron nodded, “How have you been feeling, exactly?” Alex sighed. Exactly how did he get himself into this situation? Oh right, his mortal enemy/friend broke into his apartment, went on a cleaning spree, and then somehow managed to cook dinner with the zero ingredients in his pantry.

“Fine.” Cameron gave him a death glare, and he felt himself start to sweat. “Alright, alright. I just feel empty, I guess,” Alex sighed. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel like myself. I’m really tired, and I can’t find the motivation to do anything?” he met Cameron’s eyes.

Cameron stared at him for a second, studying his face. “Have you been struggling to sleep lately? Struggling to find pleasure in activities that you normally enjoy to do? Poor appetite? Feelings of hopelessness?”

Alex dropped his fork with a clang, jaw falling open. How did Cameron know? He had been experiencing all of those things! He nodded briefly, not able to find the words he wanted to say.

“Any thoughts of wanting to harm yourself, or thinking you would be better off dead?” Cameron asked, and Alex felt his eyes begin to burn again. He blinked rapidly. He really didn’t want to cry in front of Cameron.

“Yeah,” Alex whispered, clenching his fists in his lap. His lip quivered, and he felt incredibly embarrassed. He looked over at Cameron, who had a dejected expression on his face. That only made him feel worse. He was an expert at fucking things up, wasn’t he?

“Alex, you have depression,” Cameron mentioned, clear voice cutting through the air.

“No, I don’t,” Alex immediately replied, adrenaline coursing through him. “No way,”

“’Lex, there’s nothing to be ashamed of,”

“Of course not!” Alex exclaimed, breathing hard. “Of course you wouldn’t care! Perfect Cameron, such the perfect hero!” he hissed, hands trembling. “Taking pity on those below him, how kind of him,”

“Are you done yet?” Cameron asked, completely unfazed by his sudden outburst.

Alex blushed, remembering himself. “Yeah, I am,” he confessed, looking down at his feet in embarrassment. He was still in shock. There was a name for what he was feeling? He wasn’t sick, broken...?

“I think you should start seeing a therapist,” Cameron declared, breaking the silence. Alex was, admittedly, not opposed to the idea. He’d try almost anything, at this point.

“Here,” Cameron said, shoving the piece of paper into his hand. “I wrote down the name for our offices. Call the number here, it should bring you to our receptionist. They’ll set an appointment up for you,” he continued.

“Now, I’ll make sure to get you a different therapist,” the blonde mentioned offhandedly, “because I can’t be yours- I’m probably the reason you’re going to therapy anyways,”

Alex whipped his head up. What? “No, you’re not,” Alex denied adamantly. For whatever reason, he felt the need to reassure Cameron that it wasn’t his fault. Why? He had no idea. Cameron raised his eyebrows, looking at Alex as if he hadn’t expected him to say anything. An awkward silence befell the room.

Cameron looked away, leaning back into his chair and looking at the ceiling. Alex watched him close his eyes, as if in deep thought. He took a sharp breath, watching the blond’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. Cameron’s thin, defined collarbones peeked out from the collar of his shirt. Alex bit his lip unconsciously.

“What’s wrong?” Cameron asked, blinking his eyes open. Alex swore he saw the hero’s eyes flit down to his lips for a brief second, but when he looked at the blond again, he was looking at the ground.

Alex shook his head. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he huffed.

“Hm, okay,” the hero replied, clearly not buying his excuse. “Anyways, I better get going,” he said, grimacing as if he didn’t want to leave. Alex raised an eyebrow at that. Wouldn’t he be happy to leave? He doubted anyone would want to spend time with him in this state. He dragged his shoes along the floor, hands tightening on arms of the chair he was sitting in.

Cameron put a hand on his shoulder, pressing his lips together in a hesitant smile. “Call me if you need me, okay?” he said. Alex nodded, meeting his eyes. Cameron nodded at that, thoughtful gray eyes scanning his face as if in search of something. Alex felt his cheeks darken, as Cameron’s face was only inches from his. The blond had a conflicted expression on his face, as if he was debating whether he should do something or not. Eventually, Alex felt Cameron’s arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. The pair stayed there for a bit, clutching onto each other.

Alex pulled away. “You better get going, Cameron. It’s late,” he whispered, secretly wishing he could stay.

“Alright,” the blond replied. “Good night, Alex,” he mumbled, walking towards the door.

“Good night.”

Alex watched him leave, smiling to himself. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Maybe he really would be okay.

#NOT A PROMPT #DONT STEAL PLS #IM REALLY PROUD OF THIS ONE #hero x villain #hero and villain #writing #writblr #writeblr #short fic #snippet

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acesydneysage · 3 years

Text

A Sydney and Eddie retrospective

@vablappreciationweek Favorite familial relationship: The Melrose Twins

Part 2, Books 4-6: The Heartbreaking Trilogy, Why Are You Doing This To Me This Is So Sad

Part 1 here

In The Fiery Heart, Sydney and Eddie definitely already love each othe like siblings. By the end of the book they prove that in the most painful way possible, but let's ge through some cuteness first while I steel my heart.

We get Adrian's perspective on this book, so it's nice to see Eddie talking about Sydney when she isn't around:

“Because it’s Sydney,”said Eddie from the backseat. In the rearview mirror, I could see an easy smile on his face, though there was a perpetual sharpness in his eyes as he scanned the world for danger. He and Neil had been trained by the guardians, the dhampir organization of badasses that protected the Moroi. “Giving one hundred percent to a task is slacking for her.”

When Sydney wants to soften Zoe's extreme opinions on vampires, she picks Eddie to be Zoe's driving instructor because she wants "someone approachable and friendly who’d show her not all dhampirs were evil creatures of the night."

When Sydney is being a sappy romantic and describes what love is to the group, Eddie is the one who lingers looking at her the longest, he can tell something is different about her. They really know each other by now. When Eddie let's Zoe drive outside of the parking lot, he knows Sydney so well that he knows what she's going to say, and what to say to make it better:

“I can’t believe Eddie of all people would do that. It’s irresponsible.”She nodded. “He said you’d say that and that I should tell you, ‘At least it wasn’t Angeline.’”I couldn’t help it. I laughed at that. “That’s true. He does have limits.”

Later when she tells Zoe frivolity might not be such a bad thing, they have a sweet little moment:

“Sometimes frivolity isn’t a bad thing.” Eddie, who didn’t seem put out about the dance, grinned. “Sydney, when we first met, I never would’ve thought those words could come out of your mouth. What happened to you?” Everything, I thought. I met his grin with one of my own. “We all need some fun. We should forget that dance and go out and see a movie that night. When was the last time we all did that?”“I think the answer is ‘never,’” said Jill.

When Neil comes up with his crazy plan to test the Stigoi vaccine, Eddie is very shaken up by the similarities to the event in Spokane that lead to Mason's death. While Sydney thinks that "if Eddie was involved, one Strigoi seemed feasible", what finally convinces Eddie to go is her magic. Although Neil puts her on the spot, she does ultimately make the choice to trust him with this dangerous knowledge about her:

Eddie wasn’t swayed, and there was a look on his face I’d never seen before. “I’m not denying the principles, but it’s too dangerous. And not just to you. I did something like this once . . .” A pain so intense that it tore at my heart crossed Eddie’s features. “Me and some friends. We thought we could take on Strigoi . . . and my best friend ended up dead. No matter how prepared you think you are, even against only one, the unexpected can happen.” [...] The more this got out, the more trouble I was in. And yet, as I looked into Eddie’s steady gaze, I was reminded of our friendship and all we’d been through. In a world of secrets and lies, there were few I could thoroughly trust anymore, but I knew then, without a doubt, that Eddie was one I could. Taking a deep breath, hoping I wasn’t being a fool, I held out my hand. A nervous glance around confirmed we were alone, and I brought forth a spark of fire in my palm that soon grew into the size of a tennis ball. Eddie leaned over and gasped, the orange flames reflecting off his face. “Maybe . . . maybe our odds have gotten better,” he said.

During the fight with the Strigoi they go after, we get a little more about their similarities, how they're both so dedicated to helping others, and they both seriously admire each other so much. You get a bit of that from Sydney's perspective,and how much she cares about Eddie:

I knew what agony Eddie had to be in because I shared it. We both wanted to help Neil. Doing nothing, even for a handful of seconds, went against every part of our beings. [...] For his part, Eddie was magnificent. It had been a while since I’d seen him fight, and I’d nearly forgotten that the adopted brother I joked and ate lunch with was a lethal warrior. [...] I had to act. I couldn’t just stand by and let Eddie be annihilated, not if there was anything I could do.

After the fight, Sydney is caught up in the euphoria of surviving a near death experience, and she makes pretty much zero effort to hide her relationship with Adrian from Eddie:

As soon as I was on the road with Eddie and Jill, I told them, “I need to see Adrian. Drop me off and take my car. He’ll give me a ride back.” Eddie looked totally surprised by that. “Why do you need to see him?” “I just do.” I didn’t feel like attempting an excuse, and Eddie wasn’t the type to badger me. The most I got was a curious look when we reached the apartment. His curiosity turned to panic when he realized I’d be leaving him alone with Jill. “Good luck,”I said as I got out, not entirely sure who needed it the most.

When Eddie figures out that they're together she tries to avoid the conversation, expecting condemnation, but he's very supportive. This is the last conversation they have before everything falls apart, and everything I tried to remove to shorten it felt like an important character moment, but the most relevant parts are bolded:

“Sydney . . .”Eddie’s light mood vanished, and even with my eyes on the road, his tone tipped me off that something serious was about to happen. “About that. About you going to Adrian’s . . .”I felt a tightening of my throat and couldn’t answer immediately. “Don’t talk about that,” I said. “Please.” “No, we need to.” Eddie knew. Eddie knew, and if the subject wasn’t so dire, I would’ve laughed. He was oblivious to his own social affairs, but guardians were trained to watch and observe. Eddie did that, and no doubt he’d picked up all sorts of little things between Adrian and me. We tried so hard to hide from the Alchemists, but hiding from our friends, who knew us and loved us, was impossible. “Are you going to lecture me?” I asked stiffly. “Tell me I’m breaking taboos that have been in place for centuries to preserve the purity of our races?” “What?” He was aghast. “No, of course not.” I dared a look. “What do you mean ‘of course not’?” “Sydney, I’m your friend. I’m his friend. I’d never judge you, and I’d certainly never condemn you.” “A lot of people think what we’re doing is wrong.” It felt strange and oddly relieving to acknowledge my relationship with Adrian to another person. “Well, I’m not one of them. If you guys want it . . . that’s your business.” “Everyone’s suddenly very liberal about this,” I said with wonder. “I just heard a similar thing from Trey and Angeline—about their own relationship, that is. Not about . . . other people’s.” “I think my ill-fated time with Angeline may be part of it,” he said, with more humor than I expected, considering she’d cheated on him. “She talked enough about her people that after a while, it didn’t seem that weird. And, well, my race exists because humans and Moroi got together and had kids way back when.”I felt a smile start to grow on my lips. “Adrian says it wouldn’t be fair to the world if he and I had kids, what with the overwhelming power of our collective charm, brains, and good looks.” Eddie laughed outright, not something I heard very often, and I found myself laughing too. “Yeah, I can see him saying something like that. And that’s the thing, I think . . . the real reason I’m not that weirded out by you two. It goes against all sound logic, but somehow, you two together . . . it just works.” “‘Against all sound logic,’” I repeated. “Isn’t that the truth.” A little of his amusement faded. “But that’s not what worries me. Or the morality of it. It’s your own people I’m worried about. How long are you going to be able to go on like this?” I sighed as I took the exit for the meeting spot. “As long as the center holds.”

Eddie thinks Sydney and Adrian make sense. Obviously I agree that they absolutely do, but on a surface level it doesn't look like it. You have to know them and have a better understanding of their personalities to figure out how they actually fit together. What he's worried about is the Alchemists. Of course, by this point, since the ending of TFH is a sadistically drawn out torture, we already know from the ending of the last chapter that she's about to be captured.

I made it the door first... and found Eddie. His clothes were dirty and torn, and the right side of his face was swollen and red. There was a wild, half-crazed look in his eyes I’d never seen before. A feeling of dread settled over me, and the darkness and despair and fear that had left me alone for so long began to rear their collective ugly head. I knew, even without Eddie saying a word, what had to have happened. I knew because of that terrible look of pain on his face, a pain similar to when he hadn’t been able to save Mason. [...] “Adrian,” he gasped out. “I tried, I tried. There were too many. I couldn’t stop them.” He came forward and gripped my arm. “I tried, but they took her. It was a setup. I don’t know where she is. She tricked me, damn it! I never would have left her if she hadn’t tricked me!”

When they figure out it's a trap and he tells her to run, her first instinct was that she couldn't leave him behind. When they're running together through the woods the Alchemists start shooting at Eddie, specifically. He's running at Sydney's pace and she knows he would never leave her, the he would die to save her. And she knows she could not let him die.

Eddie won’t leave me, I thought frantically. He’ll never leave me. They want me, but they don’t care about him. He can live or die, and it won’t matter to them. But if he’s what’s keeping them away, they’ll shoot him and destroy his body. “Eddie,”I said, panting. “We need to split up.” “Never.” That answer wasn’t a surprise. What was a surprise was that out of all the things rattling around in my mind, Abe Mazur’s words popped up in the forefront:. Don’t think for an instant that I wouldn’t do terrible, unspeakable things if it could save someone I love. Because it was Abe, I’d naturally assumed he was talking about doing terrible, unspeakable things to other people. But as Eddie and I held on to each other, the words took on a whole different meaning. In that moment, I knew I would do anything to save Eddie—my friend—whom I loved. Even if it meant doing something terrible and unspeakable to myself.

The first thing established in the first paragraph of Bloodlines is that re-education is Sydney's greatest fear, literally her worst nightmare. But she faces that, she walks right back and turns herself in in order to keep Eddie safe. She tricks him into spliting up by claiming that it's part of a spell, and he believes her because he's seen her do extraordinary things.

“I tried,” he whispered. “Adrian, I tried. I never would have ever left her if I’d known. I would have stayed with her to the end. I would have laid down my life and—” I had to forcibly hit the pause button on my own feelings as I dealt with his. Eddie had lost another person. It was bad luck, that was all. He was one of the most badass , capable guardians out there, but he couldn’t believe that about himself, not when he kept seeing these failures laid at his feet. Looking into his eyes, I recognized the intense self-loathing consuming him. I knew the feeling well because I was carrying around a fair amount of it myself. “I know you would have,” I said. “There was nothing you could do.” He shook his head and stared off with a haunted look. “I was an idiot. I never should’ve bought into that spell stuff. After what I’d seen her do with fire, it just seemed so . . . well, real. I believed her. It made sense.” I smiled without humor. “Because that’s what she does. She’s trained to make people believe things. And outsmart them. You didn’t have a chance.” She also was willing to trade her own life to save her friend’s, but no one had trained her to do that. It was just something within her. Eddie wasn’t going to be swayed so easily, and I left him to his grief as I huddled with mine.

When Sydney's captured, Eddie feels like he failed her, just as he'd failed Mason in Spokane, and Jill when the rebels killed her. But still, he has faith in her, that she can hold on to herself:

“How much can they really change her, though?” asked Eddie. “I mean . . . she’s Sydney. She’ll be the same . . . right? She can fight them.”

In Silver Shadows,Sydney is in re-education, and she still finds it in her to be worried about her friends on the outside. Eddie's humiliation and guilt over having lost Sydney killed the kindling romance he had with Jill. There isn't much he can do to help find her at this point.

Once they find a lead on where she is, going to her rescue is very important to Eddie, but he also feels conflicted about leaving Jill with less protection. When the time comes, Jill convinces them to take Eddie because he needed to be part of her rescue, he'd been consumed by guilt this whole time, and that might be the only thing that would allow him to feel redeemed.

With some urging from Jill, he leaves her behind, and goes off to break into a prison again, to rescue a much worthier prisoner this time. After getting mostof the prisoners out, Eddie and Adrian go back into the burning building to get Sydney and the remaining people. After they bring her out to freedom, they have this moment where they hold each other and cry, it always makes me so emotional:

Eddie came last, and as we sized each other up, the tears hovering in my eyes finally spilled. “Eddie, I’m so sorry I lied to you that night.” He shook his head and pulled me to him. I heard tears choke up his voice. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I wasn’t protection enough.” “Oh, Eddie,” I said, sniffling. “You’re the best protection. No one could have a better guardian than you. Or a better friend.”

I hope Eddie did feel redeemed, because Sydney pretty much immediately tricks him, and gives him the slip again. She does take the time to try to nudge his love life again first. Then she goes off with Adrian, going against the plan, because she thinks the other fugitives will be safer without her.

"Eddie shot me one last parting smile that nearly choked me up again." “I never thought I’d see Castile brought to tears,” said Adrian as he started up the Mustang. “This really hit him hard. Hell, it hit all of us hard, but he really beat himself up for it. He never forgave himself for you giving him the slip.” “Let’s hope he can,” I said, putting my seatbelt on. “Because it’s about to happen again. We aren’t meeting them at the safe house.”

Eddie was furious about this, but at least this time she didn't get captured. And soon enough he had something else to feel bad about, since Jill went missing right after he got back to her. She disppeared without a trace in the middle of the night, and there's another failure laid at Eddie's feet.

He's not in a great state in the beginning of The Ruby Circle:

Eddie appeared in the doorway. Seeing him almost always brought a smile to my face. In Palm Springs, we’d passed ourselves off as twins, sharing similar dark blond hair and brown eyes. But over time, he’d truly come to feel like a brother to me. I knew few others with such courage and loyalty. I was proud to call him my friend, and as such, it hurt me to see all the pain he felt over Jill’s disappearance. There was always a haunted look about him now, and sometimes I worried whether he was really taking care of himself. He hardly ever shaved anymore, and I had a feeling the only reason he bothered eating was so that he could keep training and stay in shape for when he located Jill’s abductors.

Sydney isn't doing all that great either, stuck in a hostile environment while she deals with her trauma and worries about Jill. When Sydney and Eddie sneak out of court to look for Jill, the power of Raptorbot can make him smile:

“It couldn’t have been that unexpected,” I argued. “I mean, why did he build a dinosaur body for her? Why not something more human? Or at least a more friendly animal?” “Because then there wouldn’t have been much of a movie,” said Eddie. “There’s still got to be a plausible backstory …” I said. A wry smile crossed Eddie’s features, and although the entire topic was absurd, I realized I’d hardly ever seen anything but a grim expression on his face since Jill had been taken. “I don’t think you can really sit down with a movie called Raptorbot Rampage and expect a plausible backstory,” he said. The attendant looked offended. “What are you suggesting? It was a fine piece of film. When the sequel comes out, people will be lined up out the doors to see this exhibit!” “Sequel?” Eddie and I asked in unison.

I love it when the twins talkin unison, even if they probably had opposite tones. And I really love Eddie being a fan of Raptorbot I'm sorry. He and Declan have matching Raptorbot pajamas, you can't change my mind. This is another exchange that screams siblings to me:

“We were probably his only customers today,” I remarked. “That’ll make us memorable—that and having someone who’s actually seen and liked Raptorbot Rampage.” “Hey,” warned Eddie. “Don’t judge until you’ve watched it.”

Later Sydney tries to tease him about it again, but he's focused on the search so his good humor doesn't come back. I think it's very sweet thet she saw something that had made him momentarily happy through the pain, and tried to press that button again.

Eddie is understandably very protective throughout this book. It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you, they actually run into Sydney's family, while they're trying to stay off the Alchemists' radar:

“Then get out of here. Hurry—before he comes out. Both of you.” I was stunned at this complete reversal in her behavior, but Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He took hold of my arm and nearly dragged me to the car. “We’re going—now,” he ordered. I caught one last glimpse of Zoe before Eddie shoved me in the car, where Ms. Terwilliger sat waiting for us. A thousand emotions played over Zoe’s face as we peeled out, but I could only interpret a few. Sadness. Longing. As we quickly got back on the road, I found myself shaking. Eddie was driving and kept anxiously checking the rearview mirror. “No sign of pursuit,” he said. “She must not have been able to see which direction we went to tell him.” I slowly shook my head. “No … she didn’t tell him at all. She helped us.” “Sydney,” said Eddie, in a stern-but-trying-to-sound-kind voice, “she’s the one who turned you in the first time! The one who started that whole re-education nightmare.”

He doesn't really belive that Zoe had a change of heart, and he tries to be so gentle with Sydney, while anxiously trying to get her away.

With how sad he is in this TRC (he even has broody beard to show it), the bits where he gets excited about things are really adorable. He's very enthusiastic about meeting Malachi Wolfe:

“Are the Chihuahuas really trained to attack?” he asked. I couldn’t help but grin. “That’s what Wolfe claims. We’ve never seen them in action, though.” “I can’t wait to see his nunchucks.” “Do not touch them,” I warned. “Or any weapon, without permission. If he approves of you, he might lend you something too.” [...] “Oh, man,” breathed Eddie. “There really is a herd of them.” I’d seen Eddie fearlessly face down an attacking Strigoi, but he took an uneasy step back at the sound of the canine charge. I grinned and turned toward the door, waiting for Malachi Wolfe himself to answer.

There's a lot of hugging after Sydney leaves re-education. Sydney and Eddie hug a lot, but just in general. Good for her it's what she deserves. "“Eddie,” Sydney exclaimed, running to give him a hug. He grinned back. “You guys okay?” "

When Sydney and Eddie are preparing to infiltrate the Warriors of Light as recruits, she gets a super strength spell while he gets super excited about it, and they have the cutest arm wrestle in history:

“And how much stronger?” asked Eddie eagerly. “Like lift-up-a-car stronger?” Maude smiled. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. [...]” She glanced between Eddie and Sydney speculatively, her smile growing. “I’d say you’re strong enough to hold your own with a dhampir in an arm wrestling match.” “I would kind of love to see that,” I admitted. Eddie’s face said he would as well. Sydney groaned. “Really? That’s so barbaric.” Eddie leaned over and propped his arm up on the table that had previously held the canteen. “Come on, Mrs. Ivashkov. Let’s do this. Besides, if you’re squeamish about arm wrestling, how are you going to handle going head-to-head with the Warriors?” [...] Ultimately, Eddie pushed his strength to its limit and finally defeated her, but not without her holding her own for a while. I held up her arm triumphantly, like a victor at a boxing match. “My wife, ladies and gentlemen. Beauty, brains, and now brawn.” “Awesome,” said Eddie, in a rare moment of delight.

He's really excited about human magic in general, such an adorable nerd. And again, they really do admire each other so much. Following Sydney's blackmailing the Alchemists: "I hung up, and Eddie regarded me with awe. “That was pretty badass. But do you actually think it’ll work?”"

In the epilogue, Eddie pulled strings to live with Sydney and Adrian as a Guardian, and he's one of the people who's in on Declan's secret. He even chooses to sleepin Declan's room.

I sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, to the bedroom that doubled as both a nursery and Eddie’s room. I had high enough royal rank to finally be assigned my own guardian, and Eddie, in that noble way of his, had pulled strings to be assigned to us. I’d initially protested because I wanted him to stay at Court and have a semi-normal dating life with Jill. Eddie, however, felt obligated to be with us—both out of friendship to Sydney and me and for all the times Neil had helped him. We’d offered to turn the house’s small study into Eddie’s own bedroom, but he always ended up sleeping in Declan’s room anyway.

I'm really glad they didn't get separated by the end, it always makes me happy to think about them living together.

#Rapha's Bloodlines Tag #sydney sage #eddie castile #bloodlines series #vampire academy #melrose twins #va #bloodlines #vablappreciationweek #I think I'm late even in Honolulu #I'm incapable of keeping things short and simple #my outline for both these posts had one sentence per book

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Seven: Stolen Moments

Series Masterlist

Plot: Good, bad, lighthearted, heavy. Laughter, tears, passion and fear. Battles are only a part of the war, but the lives of the people who fight are where the true stories lie.

Warnings: language, night terrors, anxiety, fluff, angst, suggestive activity, we do it all in this chapter...

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Here lies a collection of oneshots of our favorite pieces of rebel scum. Savor it because this is the last piece of lighthearted content you’ll be getting for a while...We’ve got one last chapter before we head into TROS...Enjoy! (Apologies to scrollers, I posted this from my mobile!)

————

“Black Leader to base.” “Base to Black Leader,” I said into my headset, “This is Commander Solo.” “Commander Solo? What are you doing on comms?” “Hello to you too,” I laughed softly, “I’m filling in.” It was the middle of the night, the only time where the base was fairly quiet. There were always people on duty but for the most part, there was rare silence in our corner of the jungle. The comms officer assigned to Poe for his mission had fallen ill so I immediately volunteered to take over. It wasn’t a difficult task, I never slept well when Poe was away anyways so at least I was being productive.

“Are we alone, Commander?”

“Yes, so stop calling me Commander,” I ordered, shifting in my uncomfortable seat, “You’re the one that likes that.” Poe chortled slightly, “I’ve never heard you complaining about it or anything that follows…” I was glad no one was around to see just how quickly my boyfriend could make me blush. The only reason I wasn’t indulging him was purely because of how tired I was. “It’s far too late for that kind of talk, Black Leader.” “Why’d you volunteer to take over? You sound exhausted.” I shrugged as I leaned back further in my chair, “I don’t sleep well when you’re gone.” “Still…” Poe trailed off, a loud yawn crackled through the headset, “Go to bed now, I’m gonna be landing in the next few minutes. Highly doubtful I’ll run into any trouble.” “I’m not ending this comm until I see your X-Wing on the ground,” I stated in a tone that left no room for argument, “If I left, it would end up being the time that Hugs and his armada of star destroyers would be waiting for you to come out of hyperspace and blow you out of the system.” “...Have you like thought this through or something? You came up with that scenario a little too fast…” I snickered to myself, “Just fly faster so I can stop missing you.” “You want me to fly faster than lightspeed?” “If anyone can do it, it’s you…”I smiled, fiddling with the cord of the headset that ran to the computer. “That sounds like an admission that I’m a better pilot than you are…”

“Where did you hear those words, Dameron? Cause I sure as hell didn’t saying them.” “Oh, you said enough,” Poe chuckled, “And you’re right on both counts.” I smiled lazily, “That’s right…” I hadn’t registered that my eyelids were beginning to shut, shaking myself awake I returned to the conversation, “Wait, what was my other count?” “I would break every principle of flying just to get home to you quicker.” A second blush heated my face as I let the sentiment seep into my veins. “You’re a charmer, Black Leader. Whoever your girlfriend is, she’s a lucky lady.”

“Trust me, I’m the one who’s lucky. She puts up with way too much shit from me.” “Something tells me that you’re worth it,” I said softly, unable to keep the lovestruck grin from my face.

I heard the distant sound of a ship and caught the long-awaited sight of Poe’s X-Wing coming onto the scanner. My body relaxed as I could finally sense Poe’s presence again. He was home.

“Permission to land, Solo?”

“Granted,” I lazily smiled, “Welcome home, Dameron.”

————

It was a stupid fight that we shouldn’t have been having.

Date nights were hard to come by, especially for people like us who were working constantly. But by some miracle, Poe and I had found a block of time one evening to have dinner together for longer than ten minutes. I’d set it up in our room, dimming the lights and arranging the table till it met my approval. I’d even changed out of my work clothes to the one pair of fatigues I owned. Everything was going to be perfect.

Till Poe didn’t show up.

I sat at the table with tears of anger pooling in my eyes, my gaze flicking between the door and the ever-changing clock. Just as my anger couldn’t possibly grow any further, the door slid open and in came Poe. Sweaty, stained with oil and curls completely out of place. Some of the new recruits had asked Poe to give them a few tips on their flying techniques and he’d gotten caught up in it. What started as discussion had climbed to practice dogfights above base.

Soft spoken anger quickly turned to raised voices until we were yelling at one another.

I accused him of caring more about the Resistance than about me.

He accused me of not placing enough importance on the war.

He could’ve reached me over the comms to tell me.

I could’ve not overreacted over missing one dinner.

I stormed out of the room.

He didn’t follow.

That was how I’d ended up on the Falcon. I didn’t want to shed tears in front of Poe, so I’d saved them for the privacy of my ship. I was all cried out as I sat silently in the captain’s chair, absentmindedly flipping a switch on the control board on and off. Poe and I didn’t fight often, not like this at least. So on the occasions it did happen, it wrecked both of us until someone conceded because they simply couldn’t take the separation any longer. I knew I’d been a little dramatic in my accusations, but I’d looked forward to the night for days. But that was only a piece of what was bothering me about the whole thing. I had operated purely from anger, the thing I’d been striving so hard to purge from me. It was reopening every fear I had about myself and my powers. I felt the resentment towards Poe swirling inside of me and there was a part of me that wanted to let it fester. It was eating me alive that despite all the training I was going through, I still didn’t have a handle on my emotions.

“Hey…” I turned around at the voice to see a sleep deprived Poe standing a cautious distance away from me. His hair was in further disarray, his eyes wearing dark bags from lack of rest and his gaze focused on the ground. I didn’t want to speak first, I was too afraid of what might fly out of my mouth. He hesitantly looked up at me and met my eyes, even after a fight he still looked at me with a softness in his stare. Unable to stay on the receiving end any longer without feeling worse, I turned back around in my seat. His footsteps moved closer until he came to sit next to me in the co-pilot’s chair. We sat in silence for a moment, readjusting to one another’s presence before voicing our thoughts.

Poe was the first one to speak, “I’m sorry, I was an asshole.” “No more so than me,” I said, still unable to look at him without feeling a thrum of anxiety run through my body.

“You were justified in your anger-“ Poe leaned forward and reached his hand out toward my knee.

“No,” I jerked my body away from his loving touch, “Poe, I’m not. I mean, yes, I’m mad at you but I didn’t even hear you out. The only reason you got your explanation in is because I ran out of breath berating you. Yes, I’m right to be upset but not to this extent…” Poe sighed and hung his head down, running a hand through his unkempt hair. He didn’t see me like this often, but the times he did hurt him almost as much as they hurt me.

“Y/n,” he said softly, “That was a pretty standard fight. I missed a date, you yelled and now we’re talking it through. Your reaction’s no different than anyone else’s.” “That’s the point,” I leaned on my knees and pinched the bridge of my nose, “I’m not supposed to be like everyone else. I’m a Jedi, I’m supposed to have a better grip on my emotions and not fly off the handle every time we have a fight.” “Y/n, Jedis are human too,” Poe challenged with a hint of a smile, “You don’t have to be as perfect as you think you need to be.” I rubbed my hands over my face nervously and scooted forward in my chair. Poe’s hands were already waiting to take hold of mine, the rough calloused tips of his fingers from years of flying stroking over my palms gently.

“I know you know you messed up, and I’m sorry for trying to make you feel worse about it,” I said quietly, sliding one of my hands up to hold the back of his neck, “I don’t think my expectations were realistic for what a relationship looks like in the middle of a war.” “I think we both are finding that out,” Poe agreed, stroking my knee with his free hand, “Sometimes I catch myself acting like I’m still single. I schedule my day without leaving any room for time with you and like tonight, I majorly screwed up.” Our lives were changing along with the war and we needed to find our middle ground. It required constant adjustment and work, but it was worth it. And we’d been through too much to let our relationship suffer at the hands of our own carelessness.

“So we try harder,” I suggested, running my fingers through a few runaway curls, “And we try to have a little more understanding towards one another. Our priority is each other but this fight,” I turned my gaze to the cockpit window, “It’s going to have to come before what we want sometimes.” I turned back to Poe who was watching me with a soft intensity that only he could possess. The hand I had on his neck pulled him down to lean our foreheads against one another. His warm palms slid up my legs to my sides, holding them loosly. We leaned into one another’s lips at the same time, moving together slowly and softly to make up for the harsh words spoken earlier in the evening. Even after we pulled away, Poe pressed several featherlight kisses to the corners of my lips. “I love you more than anything else,” Poe whispered, his hot breath hovering over my lips, “You know that right?” “I do,” I replied quietly, in no need to disturb the tender quiet we’d found, “And I don’t think I could love you any more than I already do.”

————

There was an unofficial day in the Resistance that had been going for quite a few years.

Prank Day.

One day where we played harmless practical jokes on one another. As long as it didn’t endanger anyone’s safety or get in the way of doing our jobs, anything was fair game. The higher ranking officers, including Mom, knew about it and had never made any effort to put a stop to it. Privately, Mom actually enjoyed seeing what people pulled off.

“Finn, I’m his girlfriend, I don’t know if I can go along with this,” I told my friend as we carried recently delivered cargo through base.

“Y/n, c’mon, you’re the only one who has access to the room,” Finn urged, “You don’t even have to do it, just conveniently leave your door open and if I happen to wander in…” My friend was trying his hardest to get me involved in whatever prank he had planned for Poe. He hadn’t even told me what it was, only that it was too good to not be a part of.

“If I say I’ll consider it, will you leave it alone?” I asked.

“Yes,” Finn adjusted the crate to carry it with one hand, pointing his finger at me, “But only if you actually consider it. I swear, you’ll love it…”

I didn’t actually consider it, Prank Day was the furthest thing from my mind. Between training and my duties as a commander, I had enough on my plate.

Until I woke up on said day unable to find my lightsaber.

Poe had left our room before I’d started my day so my only option was to comm him. It wasn’t until my fifth attempt at reaching him on the comms that he answered…

“Maybe you left it hanging around outside…” His cryptic answer resulted in me standing underneath Tantive IV craning my neck to stare at my lightsaber taped to the underside of the ship. How he had gotten it up there, I didn’t know and didn’t care. All I knew was payback was well and truly deserved.

“I’m in,” I plopped down next to Finn as he sat eating lunch in Rey’s corner of base, “What do you need from me?” Finn pumped his fist before filling me in on the details of the prank.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Rey asked, she’d had her head buried in one of the Jedi texts and had only heard a few words of Finn’s plan. Once he had explained it to both of us, she was practically snorting with laughter. “Oh, please let me witness this.” “I’ve got a little something extra to add to it, but I’m gonna need your help, Finn...” I said with a sly grin.

Later that day, I was sitting in my and Poe’s quarters awaiting his return. He waltzed through the door casually, a hint of smugness in his smile.

“How’s your day been?” he asked innocently.

“Nothing new to report,” I shrugged, “Still haven’t found my lightsaber though.” “I’m sure it’ll turn up,” he responded plainly, leaning down to kiss the top of my head, “I’m gonna shower then we can grab dinner. Finn and I were working on something earlier and he got some oil in my hair.” “Well, we all know how protective you are of your hair…” I sighed, earning myself a chuckle before he headed into the refresher.

As soon as I heard the sound of water, I bolted for the door. As I ran down the hall, I raised the comlink I’d been hiding in my hand. “He just got in,” I reported. “Copy that,” Finn replied, “On our way.”

I hurried toward the exit of the ship just as Finn and Rey sped in the opposite direction.

“Hurry,” Rey urged as we passed one another. “On it.” I bounded for the spot where Poe had taped my lightsaber, standing directly under it. It didn’t take much effort as I extended my hand and broke the “foolproof” seal, the weapon flying into my palm. As I sprinted back into the ship, I peeled off the tape until it was restored to its proper state. I made it back to the room with Finn and Rey already standing outside. I punched in the code quickly and the door flew open.

“He should be almost done,” I breathed, listening to the sounds of the sanisteamer still going.

After a moment, the noise stopped and was replaced with Poe humming some song to himself. The three of us waited with bated breath for the explosive reaction that was surely to come.

“What the hell?!”

We tried to stifle our giggles to no avail knowing what Poe was seeing right now. He flew out the door calling my name with a towel wrapped around his waist, only to be met by Finn, Rey and I laughing hysterically.

Poe’s hair was bright blue.

“Did you three do this?” he cried, still clutching the shampoo bottle in a hand and pointing to his head with the other. Our shrieks of laughter and nods were the only answer he received.

“I have a late meeting tonight and I have to go looking like this?” Poe asked, pulling on his damp curls to amplify his point. “I’ve always thought you looked good in blue,” I said as I tried to catch my breath, still clutching my stomach.

“You’ve always had the best hair in the Resistance, Poe,” Finn replied, gesturing to the blue mop in question, “Now you can wear that title with extra pride.” “I’m serious, guys,” Poe said frustratedly, “This comes out, right?” “Yes, it comes out,” I answered with another small laugh, “I’d help you wash it out but,” I held up my lightsaber casually, “I really need to get some practice time in.” Poe gave a sigh of defeat and took a step towards us, “Okay, that’s fair. It’s pretty good actually. How’d you pull it off?”

Finn took the reins, “I snuck Y/n the dye and she-“

We were interrupted by Poe squirting the remains of the blue shampoo on our heads. Finn, Rey and I shot down the hall and out of his range as he chased the three of us down the thankfully empty hall.

————

Supply closets, as I quickly found out, were not built for two people.

Poe had been away on a weeklong mission and had just returned. Making it back to our room to welcome him home properly wasn’t going to happen so he’d pulled me into the nearest room. Our lips were currently battling for dominance as our hands found purchase in the others clothing.

“I missed you,” Poe mumbled against my mouth.

“I missed you too,” I whispered in between kisses, “I hate when you’re gone this long.” “Yeah, but you gotta admit,” Poe breathed as he trailed his kisses across my face till he hit my jaw, “It makes our reunions all that sweeter.” My breathy laugh turned to a soft groan as his lips travelled down to my neck. My hands moved frantically against his flight suit, internally cursing whoever had made them so damn complicated to get off. All actions ceased as Poe began to suck a mark onto the delicate patch of skin, I threw one arm around his shoulders and reached a hand up to grip his hair. With each ministration of his mouth, a gentle moan escaped my lips that would encourage him to keep going.

“I’m gonna be wearing high collared shirts in a jungle for days thanks to you,” I breathed, still holding his head to the juncture between my neck and shoulder. “You want me to stop?” Poe teased against my skin, his voice low and husky. His hands had found their way under my shirt and were rubbing circles against my hips.

My hum of pleasure was all the invitation he needed to dive back in, pressing me back into the wall and aggressively attacking the skin again. I wrapped a leg around his back to push him further against me, needing to feel him as close as possible. I reached down blindly and found the zipper to his flight suit, tugging it down forcefully and slipping it off his shoulders.

Suddenly, the dark room flooded with light. Poe and I broke from each other to see a maintenance worker standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Uh, sorry, Commanders…” he sputtered, “I-I just came to get something but, uh, I’ll come back later.” Before I could protest and come up with an excuse for our suggestive position, he’d quickly shut the door in embarrassment. I threw my head back against the wall and groaned while Poe snickered to himself.

“You do realize the entire base is going to hear about this right?” I asked, unable to see him clearly in the darkness but picturing his smug smile.

“So?” Poe said, I felt him shrug his shoulders, “Every couple’s snuck off like this, trust me.”

Just as I began to push him off me, he tightened his grip on my waist and eased me back against the wall. One of his hands left my body and I heard a click of the door’s lock before the pressure returned. I felt his hot breath against my collarbone, pulling me back down into his orbit and surrendering to the sensation. “Gotta finish what we started, sweetheart…”

————

Mine and Poe’s schedules exhausted us enough that sleep almost always came easy to us. But sound slumber was a gift neither of us typically received.

I woke up to the sound of distressed moans and the absence of Poe’s arms wrapped around me. Sitting up and blinking my eyes in the darkness, I caught the silhouette of Poe from the soft light we kept turned on. He was rolled over onto his side, clutching the blankets in his fists and whimpering.

“Poe,” I whispered, shifting to kneel beside him and gently gripping his shoulder, “Baby, wake up.” “Mmphf,” he moaned, “No, no, get out.” “Poe, wake up,” I raised my voice slightly, “You’re having a nightmare, wake up.”

“No, get-get out of my head,” he breathed, his voice saturated with desperation, “Don’t hurt her.” I knew exactly what nightmare he was having.

“Baby, I’m okay,” I urged, shaking his shoulder with both hands, “Wake up.” His eyes flew open and he shot up in bed with a cry, I could make out the single tear trail down his cheek. Unfortunately, this was nothing new to me. Much like myself, Poe suffered from the same horrible dream night after night.

“Poe, you’re okay,” I said soothingly, running my hands down his arm, “It was a nightmare.” His chest rose and fell as he fought to catch his breath, he ran a hand over his face and sniffled. He turned to me and gripped both my wrists gently, looking me over to make sure I was real. “I’m okay,” I assured, turning my hand over to lace my fingers with his.

He breathlessly nodded, his eyes frantically searching my face for reassurance. “He was in my head, Y/n, he went in and the first thing he saw was you.” “I know, I know,” I hummed, pushing myself into his lap where he usually needed me on the bad nights, “But he didn’t get me. I’m here, he can’t hurt either of us.” As Poe’s racing thoughts slowed down and he processed what I was saying, he surged forward and collected me in his arms. His grip was tighter on nights like this, in his nightmare he faced the reality of some horrible fate befalling me. He needed more than my verbal reassurance, he needed to feel me to quell the lingering panic. Whether he needed to be held, to be kissed or to lose himself in me, I gave him whatever would return him to me fully. This particular night, all he needed was to be close. We fell asleep with Poe’s head resting on my chest as I soothingly ran my fingers through his curls.

The next night wasn’t any easier.

The thickness of the smoke had decreased since the last time I’d visited the familiar nightmare. Things were becoming clearer, metaphorically and literally.

I stood amidst the flames, finally able to make out where I was. After so many years, I should have been able to recognize the location. Perhaps I’d been in denial…

It was my uncle’s former training temple.

The wound I continuously tried so hard to close threatened to open up again. For once in the years of being plagued by the dream, I kept calm. Even at the sight of the location where through the cruelest circumstances, I’d been set on my path to become a Jedi, I held firm to my peace.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice called, I turned around to see a face I’d never seen before. Not in this form at least…

Obi-Wan.

He’d been the figure clothed in brown all these years.

He was so much younger, his white head of hair and beard a sandy shade of brown. His tan robes shorter than that ones I’d seen him in, but his dark brown cloak the exact same. Just like the soft expression on his face as our eyes met.

He’d been calling out to me this whole time.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, “You’re stronger than you know.” “Of what?” I asked as I walked with urgency towards him, “You’ve been saying that to me for years now and I still don’t know what it’s meant.” My grandfather’s gaze was no longer on me, but something behind me. I didn’t need to look to know exactly who stood firmly planted in my subconscious state, just as he did in my conscious.

“Don’t be afraid,” Ren said, his voice cool and balanced, so unlike him in reality. He spoke with a knowledgable authority that send a chill down my spine. “There’s more darkness in you than you know, just think of what you can do with it.” I was prepared to verbally strike him down and wield my Jedi status over him. I was ready to tell him he’d lost, till I turned to see bodies strewn across the ground. Soldiers. Resistance soldiers. Pilots. Maintenance workers. Strategists. Seemingly everyone that made up our band of rebels was strewn on the ground motionless. Worse…Taking one look at their wounds told me they had not died by blaster, but by lightsaber.

My hands trembled as they flew to cover my mouth, tears trailing down my cheeks as if they’d been waiting to fall. I was overcome. “Y/n,” my grandfather came to stand next to me, “Don’t listen to him. You know who you are.” Any other time I’d have listened to him. But at the sight of my comrades dead, I couldn’t be reasoned with. I fell to my knees with a shriek of horror, ignoring as Obi-Wan dropped alongside me and placed his hands on my shoulders. It didn’t matter how far I ran or how hard I tried, the fear I’d fought my entire life would always find me…

“Y/n, wake up. Sweetheart, you’re dreaming!” I startled awake with the same wet cheeks and thin layer of sweat across my brow that I’d gained in the nightmare. My chest heaved as I struggled to regain a normal breathing pattern. I turned onto my back and fell against Poe’s arm, he was caging me in and staring down at me. “You’re okay, it was just a dream,” he whispered, one of his hands coming to stroke a strand of hair out of my face.

I scrunched my eyes shut and nodded, trying to erase the image of so many good people dead at my hand. It wasn’t reality, I knew that, but it didn’t change the simple fact that my fear was. There was no escaping my mind.

“What do you need?” Poe asked softly.

“You.”

I gripped his biceps and pulled him down on top of me, our lips melting together blissfully. As hard as Poe would try if I asked, he couldn’t fix me. He couldn’t erase my anxieties, couldn’t go back in time and change my journey to where I’d ended up. But just him being there, willing to try and see me through the bad nights was enough. It was so much more than enough.

————

Cantina trips had always been something to look forward to. Shots and cocktails would flow freely and bring an immense amount of regret the next day, but we’d still repeat the cycle the next time around.

We never went in with the fear of possible death or capture.

Rey, Finn, Poe and I had been dispatched to Coruscant to a high end bar. We were supposed to meet an informant who had information on the First Order’s most recent weapon dealings. It was too good a chance to pass up, assuming he was even telling the truth.

“I feel ridiculous in this get-up,” Rey’s voice whispered in my ear through the hidden comms device.

“Be thankful you have pants at least,” I chuckled softly as I sipped my drink, sneaking a peek across the room at her table. She was dressed in the tightest leather pants I’d ever seen and a long sleeved top with a plunging neckline. A stark contrast from her usual beige and white Jedi robes. I had been sewn into a strapless dress that only covered what it absolutely had to, including my lightsaber. “But we’re all in agreement that I look great, right?” Poe chimed in, he was seated at the opposite end of the bar. He’d exchanged his worn leather jacket for a sleek new neon colored one, a sheer shirt and pants just as tight as Rey’s. We weren’t supposed to be acknowledging each other’s presence but I’d snuck a few quick glances at his ass.

“How’d you fit that ego through the door, Dameron?” Finn asked, he was nursing an ale near the entrance to the bar. His stylish jumpsuit, even with a few buttons undone, was the least revealing outfit out of the four of us.

“Just fine, thanks for the concern, buddy,” Poe replied dryly before clearing his throat, “We know what this guy looks like?” “Nope,” I said with my lips to my glass, “All we know is that he’ll be carrying a cane. Not a very common feature so he shouldn’t be hard to spot.”

“Excuse me?” a voice from behind me spoke up, I turned to see a groomed gentleman gesturing to the stool next to me, “Is this seat taken?” I scanned him quickly, no cane. “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone.”

“A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be kept waiting,” the man said as he defiantly took the seat, “I pity whoever decided they had better things to do than have a drink with you.” I had to stop from laughing at the lines he was using, coming from the right guy would’ve made them sound smooth. But this one just came off sounding like a cocky asshole and not the kind that I had a penchant for. “Do I need to come over and kick that guy’s ass?” Poe’s voice rang in my earpiece.

“Trust me,” I smiled politely at the man, “Your pity would be better spent elsewhere.” He nodded and smirked, his eyes drinking in my exposed body so intensely that I started to squirm. My senses were telling me that he was bad news. “I haven’t seen you around here, what brings you to Coruscant?” “Business,” I replied evenly, trying to figure out how to get him to leave.

“Let me guess,” the guy rubbed his chin before snapping his fingers, “You’re a model.” “Something like that,” I said with a small smile that he wouldn’t understand, “My face is all over the galaxy.” “What a lucky galaxy,” he responded, I had to physically stop my face from scrunching into a cringe.

“What a charmer,” I chuckled before taking a final sip of my drink, “It’s been lovely chatting with you but I really am waiting on a friend.” The man held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I understand. But you can’t blame a guy for taking a shot. Hope you have a fun night.” He stuck his hand out as he rose to his feet, I foolishly took it and shook it. As soon as we touched, he whipped out a blaster and pressed the barrel of it to my neck.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Solo,” he smirked.

Other patrons were shrieking at the scene that had been started. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to get any better where we were concerned…

“Let her go!” Poe ordered, he’d made his way from across the bar in a flash and had his blaster aimed in record time.

“Guys, we’ve got stormtroopers headed our way,” Finn announced in our earpieces, “This is about to get ugly.” “Y/n has been made,” Rey reported, “It’s about to get uglier than you think.” “This is your lucky day, Miss Solo,” my wannabe assassin said cooly, “The Supreme Leader has been looking for you. He’ll be so happy to hear that we’ve found you.”

“Do me a favor and give him a message,” I smiled, my eyes flicking to Finn and Rey whose hands were ghosting over their hidden weapons. Poe gave me a nod to signal they were ready. “He’s going to have to try harder than this.” Poe used the butt of his blaster to hit the guy’s head, instantly knocking him out as he dropped to the ground. I unholstered my lightsaber from under my dress just as stormtroopers flooded through the bar’s doors. Rey launched herself off of her table and activated her saber while Finn was already shooting troopers down. Screams erupted from all around us and the innocent bystanders were taking cover underneath tables and behind the bar. Poe and Finn joined them in seeking cover but never stopped firing shots. Rey and I deflected the trooper’s attempts to take us down, some of their shots bouncing off our lightsabers and hitting them.

“Ready?” I raised my voice so she could hear me over the gunfire.

“Ready,” she replied, making her way to stand at my side.

We extended our hands at the same time and used our combined power to send the group of troops tumbling through the doorway and crashing through the glass windows.

“Everybody out,” Poe shouted, sliding back out from behind the bar with Finn. The customers listened and began flooding out both the back door of the building. The remaining stormtroopers were scrambling back to their feet to search for us, but we blended into the crowd easily. We pushed our way out into the chilly night air with the fearful people who were regretting their decision to go for a drink.

“That went well,” Rey breathed as we ran through the alleyway behind the bar. “Either the contact was lying the whole time or they got word of the meeting and killed him,” Poe theorized as we navigated our path with only the neon lighting of the building fronts as our guide.

“Chewie, get the ship ready to go,” I said into the comlink, receiving an agreeable roar in response. Luckily the bar was located on the edge of the main part of the city. The Falcon was too easily recognized to land in a hanger so Chewie had it parked on the outskirts of the city, anxiously awaiting our return.

As the Falcon came into sight, blaster fire flew past us. I spared a glance behind us to see a few stray stormtroopers chasing after us. Finn, who was an exceptional shot, took care of as many as he could and succeeded in protecting our group as we hurried aboard the ship.

“Finn and Rey on guns,” I directed as we sprinted down the hallway, “Chewie, I need you to keep an eye on the hyperdrive. It gave us trouble getting here. Poe, with me.” Poe and I dashed to the cockpit and settled into our seats, I gave him credit for not taking the pilot’s seat. He knew it was my ship thus, I was calling the shots. “How you feeling about this?” he asked as I lifted the ship off the ground and flew us above the city. He already knew what trouble we were going to be flying into.

“Considering the hyperdrive is on the fritz meaning lightspeed is a question mark and we’re almost definitely going to have First Order ships waiting for us,” I said, giving him a quick smile, “Never better.” I didn’t have time to see the smirk I know I’d earned as I maneuvered us out of the atmosphere where surprise surprise, there was a small fleet of TIE Fighter’s awaiting us.

“We’ve got company,” I reported into my headset, “I’m going in.” Poe adjusted the necessary controls as I flew headfirst into the center of the group of ships. They started firing, shaking the ship every few seconds when they actually managed to make a hit. There were six TIE’s that I now had following me in a neat line.

“If you swing around,” Rey said over the headset, “Finn and I can handle it from there.” “You read my mind,” I replied, hanging a sharp left so us and the line of ships were parallel. I watched as Finn and Rey perfectly executed the idea and took out four of the six.

“Chewie, how we looking?” Poe shouted to the back of the ship, a barrage of muffled wookie roars coming in reply, “I have no idea what he just said. “Not my fault you haven’t learned Wookie yet,” I said as I dodged what would’ve been a critical shot if I’d been a second late, “He said he thinks he’s almost done.” “Think?” The remaining two TIE’s had managed to get in front of us and were flying straight towards us. Instinct, and a bit of the signature Solo recklessness, took over my body and I flew faster toward them before turning the ship on its side.

“Guys, I’m gonna set you guys up,” I called to Finn and Rey first, “Chewie, you better hope that hyperdrive works. Poe, get ready to take us to lightspeed.” “When do you want me to do that?”

“You’ll know when,” I said before slipping between the two ships. Quick as I could, I turned the Falcon upside down and dove straight down. As the fighters turned and made the mistake of flying parallel to one another, I timed it perfectly and pulled back up while underneath them. Like we were functioning as one body, Finn and Rey took their shots and blew up the ships simultaneously seconds before Poe took his cue to successfully send us to lightspeed.

As soon as I’d set our course for Ajan Kloss, Poe and I sunk back into our seats. “Will you do something for me?” “Anything,” Poe replied, brushing his fingers against my hand.

“Will you admit that I could give you a run for your money at the title of ‘Best Pilot?”

Poe retracted his hand immediately and stood up, “Except that.”

I laughed out loud as he retreated from the cockpit, “I just saved your ass, Dameron.” “Thank you,” he called from the hallways, I snickered as I got up to follow him.

————

Days after the failed mission, I was settled in mine and Poe’s room buried in my data pad. It had been raining all day so Rey and I were excused from training which gave me a chance to catch up on my clerical work. Everything was as normal as normal could be.

I crossed the room to retrieve something.

I stopped in my tracks.

Someone was there, but not in the room.

In my mind.

Y/n.

The data pad fell from my hands, the glass screen shattering around my feet.

Ren.

————

A/N: Did you honestly think I was going to let this end on a happy note? 😂 We got angst for days coming up... Hope you enjoyed, let me know if you’d like to be tagged! ✨

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #poe dameron

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murdertoothpick · 3 years

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Do you have any tips for someone who's trying to write because I don't know how you do it, I've got so may ideas but I can't seem to finish any of them and your writing is so compelling and good but mine just doesn't seem to work and every time I start to write something good it ends up way too long.

brb hardcore gonna cry and i hope you know how warm this made me //// here's my two cents i guess.

writing is hard, period. even if some people make it look easy. (sometimes it can be). ive always been better at writing essays and textual analysis, and i'm very much still learning the ropes to creative writing.

most of the time, ill be working on 3-4 fics at once. i have them lined up in my drafts and i try to add at least 1-3 small paragraphs to each one every day. maybe that's chaotic, but it prevents me from focusing too hard on a fic i might scrap or need to take a break from. plus, it always helps to step away and return to a wip with fresh eyes!

sometimes ill have an idea as to how i want my story to go, but maybe as im writing ill reach a point where im like,,, actually, this is a good place to end it,,, not because the story is getting long or i just want to finish it, but maybe it just felt right or better to end it at that moment. sometimes things don't go to plan, and i could always put aside a really good idea for future use.

and to me- writing longer works are hard so i guess props to you! obviously length isn't everything though. but maybe try writing drabbles? I've only recently opened myself up to writing drabbles (<200 words for me but it varies for each person) more often and I've really enjoyed it! it's a great challenge and a lil quicker (and you can do it as a warmup) and it gives me just as great a sense of accomplishment as if i were to write a longer piece.

how do i do it? with all the self doubt a person can have. look, it's totally normal to not be confident in your writing or unsure of its delivery. i have a few works on here im not proud of, but i also acknowledge that I've grown as a writer and have improved. (surely, right?). so those fics (under my tag murder toothpick archive), are not representative of my writing, especially not now, but more indicate me trying to find my footing here (and we'll all stumble sometimes). when you consume fanfic (if you're like me, then its a lot), be aware of some good phrasing and writing styles or features. everyone's style is unique, of course, and most of the time we're figuring out how to shape our own. find out what you're good at, and what you're not good at. don't be afraid to draw from personal experience, or do research if your knowledge is lacking.

and this community is really supportive! ask for help, feedback or suggestions maybe? my dms and inbox are open (and im a hs eng and lit tutor, though that's pretty irrelevant when it comes to creative writing)

if anybody has other things to add please reblog or comment !!!

anyways, good luck! and take your time figuring things out

#disclaimer: diff things work for diff people #be open to trying new things #i struggle to write as well #writing is hard but its become really cathartic #and just a great outlet

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pagesfromthevoid · 4 years

Text

It Takes Time | 6 | g.w.

George Weasley x Tonks!reader

Word Count: 1,781

Warning: Mentions of suicide, depression

A/N: Not me, posting after like two months of being absent. Absolutely not.

Do not repost my work without my permission

* * * * *

It didn’t take long for George to become a staple part of Y/N’s life. In only a short few weeks, he spent much of his time at their flat with them and Teddy. They enjoyed each other’s company, and the two would spend every night talking until Y/N reminded him that they needed to sleep too. The two never talked about Fred or Dora, but they talked about other things. Their families, their time at school. They’d reminisce about their Hogwarts lives. At one point, Y/N admitted to having a brief crush on him in their third year, but it didn’t last longer than a week or so. There were a few occasions where they almost kissed; almost moved past the “will they, won’t they” phase. But it never did, and neither one of them seemed keen on ruining what good thing they had.

It made more sense for him to go to them --less breaking up Teddy’s usual routine and more to get the baby accustomed to George’s presence. Though Teddy didn’t seem bothered by George being in his life; on the contrary, the child adored George and the little toys he’d bring by. Y/N also quite enjoyed his presence too, though. While they worked and minded Teddy in between baking, George spent most of his day cleaning and handling the shop. And then, in the evenings, he would walk down the road to join the two for dinner. Sometimes he’d cook, sometimes they would. It was a nice new routine for the three of them.

Tonight was no different.

George was the one cooking this round, humming to himself as he stirred a pot of pasta. Y/N was in the living room, rocking Teddy in his little swing as the baby giggled. The child was mimicking George’s hair and freckles once again, clapping his hands together happily as his aunt played with him. Every so often, George would peak around the corner to see the commotion, and it made his heart lurch to see Y/N and Teddy, looking like a proper Weasley. What a sight; it was like seeing a future without a teacup. But the thought was always pushed aside because George wasn’t trying to rush into a marriage or into fatherhood. No, no. He needed to get the shop opened before he turned his attention to any of that.

But dating...dating was okay. At least, whatever he and Y/N had currently was. They hadn’t labelled it but he didn’t mind so much. It made life easier, and he had someone who didn’t look at him and start crying. Really, there wasn’t much more he could ask for at the moment. He hadn’t told anyone they were seeing one another, though Lee had a pretty good idea. But Lee was good at not asking questions unless he really needed to. George wasn’t quite ready to make the world --or more specifically, his family --aware that he was seeing anyone. Not yet, anyway.

You don’t usually go this slow, Fred teased as George moved throughout the kitchen looking for spices. The living twin rolled his eyes. Not even a kiss; a proper gentleman, aren’t you?

“Shove off,” George murmured back, keeping his voice low to avoid Y/N hearing him. “I’m enjoying myself. They’re good company.”

Pretty company too, mate. If I were alive…George’s stomach dropped at the comment and Fred’s disembodied voice disappeared. If I was alive, he said. It was such an innocent comment, but it caused George’s limbs to go limp at his sides. His vision tunnelled and he couldn’t breathe.

Fred was dead.

Fred was dead and George was hearing his voice in his head while cooking in the kitchen of the first person to show George positive attention since the war.

Merlin’s beard, he was drowning suddenly.

He gripped the counter for a moment, trying to ground himself back into reality. But George felt sick; it had been so long since he had properly thought about Fred and his death. He hadn’t been sleeping as much but he wasn’t having nightmares when he did. He was blissfully ignorant and distracted by Y/N and Teddy, and the sudden reminder that Fred was dead just threw everything into a tailspin and he couldn’t breathe. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks and onto the countertop as he tried to keep his sudden despair quiet. Y/N was still laughing in the living room, they were still playing with Teddy and everything was still there. Everything but his brother, and the sanity that George was slowly losing.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, George took a deep breath and finally was able to stabilize himself. The pot had boiled over and he stared at it for a moment, blinking slowly as he considered how to clean up the hot water. Running a hand over his face and through his hair, he took another breath and turned off the stove, moving the pot aside. The water ran over the burner and sizzled, but enough was left over that he needed a towel still.

He’d become familiarized with Y/N’s kitchen pretty easily, but his head was spinning and he couldn’t think of where to find towels. So he simply started opening drawers until he found them. Most of their towels were little dish towels on top, and he wanted something a little thicker to keep the water from burning him. He dug through the drawer absently until his hand hit something cold and hard, and his brow furrowed as he pulled out a glass vial from the towels.

It was clearly hidden in there, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was --a potion, obviously, but he wasn’t familiar with the color. Distracted by the vial, George tossed the towel on the counter and popped the top open. It didn’t need to get too close though, because even a foot away, the stench was overwhelming and caused George to dry heave. The smell was hard to describe; something like burning hair and that iron smell of blood. And the sickness that George was overwhelmed with only got worse as he realized what it was.

Baneberry.

Baneberry Potion was a very poisonous concoction, one that caused almost instant death if the entire thing is consumed and one that caused unimaginable pain and illness if even just a drop was taken. George stared at the vial in his hands, slowly coming to the realization that Y/N had the potion in the cupboard for themselves. That they had the poison to end their own life at any given moment. It made him angry --genuinely enraged, actually. How could they promise him that they’d never kill themselves, that they’d never leave Teddy alone but have bloody Baneberry Potion just sitting in their cabinets? He could feel his cheeks heating up from anger as he heard them coming into the kitchen.

“George, how’s dinner coming?” they asked, running a hand through their hair as they walked into the kitchen.

The wizard turned, holding the vial in his hands as he looked directly at them. Y/N’s eyes fell on the vial in his hands and they felt the blood drain from their face, their mouth opening slightly.

“Why?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Their mouth opened and closed, unable to respond. George set the container on the counter and stepped towards them in one long stride. “Y/N, why? After dinner that night…I thought that everything was okay, I thought you were fine...I thought…” His anger slowly faded back into the despair, and now concern for their wellbeing. He just got them; he couldn’t lose them.

Taking a deep breath, the other wizard looked down and swallowed hard. “The first few months...they were so hard,” they murmured. “I let Harry take Teddy for the weekend...I just...I didn’t think I could do it…” Slowly they looked up at him, eyes watering and tears threatening. “But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because of Dora. Because...Because of that little boy.”

“Then why keep it?”

“I...I don’t know.”

George picked up the vial carefully and held it out to them. Y/N stared up at him, tears in their eyes and confusion clear in their expression, not making a move to take it from him.

“Take it,” he commanded, pushing it into their hands. “Pour it out.”

The distraught wizard before him stared for a long moment before slowly reaching out to pour the potion into the sink. They watched each other as they did so, never taking their eyes off of each other.

“If this...if this is going to work, Y/N, we need to be honest. We need to try to get better and not just pretend we’re okay,” George explained, turning on the water to ensure that the potion was cleared away entirely. “I...I care about you a lot and I don’t know what this is, or what we’re doing, but I don’t want to lose it. I don’t...I can’t lose you too.”

He watched their E/C eyes drop to the floor and tears began hitting the ground. Without a second thought, George pulled them into his arms and hugged them tightly against his chest. He needed this. Y/N needed this. They needed physical contact, from anyone or anything, and this embrace meant more to him than anything else could at that moment. Y/N hugged him back immediately, as if their life depended on it, thanking him over and over again. The redhead rested his chin on top of their head, holding them there just a little bit longer before finally letting them go. Y/N wiped their eyes and sniffled, looking down once more.

“I think I ruined dinner,” he murmured as they pulled apart, though his hands rested on their hips. Y/N’s hands were on his biceps, and they gave them a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll send for take out, then.”

George moved to pull away but Y/N’s grip on his arms tightened. He looked down at them, to ask if they needed something else, but Y/N’s lips were on his without warning. It took a moment to process but George returned the kiss with excitement, returning his hands to their hips to pull them closer to him. He pushed them back against the sink gently, as a way to keep themselves steady. Y/N’s hands slid up, resting now to cup his cheeks as they shared a proper first kiss.

When they finally pulled away, they kept close to one another, holding each other with eyes closed and basking in the afterglow of the emotional roller coaster they had just experienced. Y/N opened their eyes, looking up at George with a small smile.

“I don’t want to lose you either, George.”

—————————

Taglist: @l0vege0rgie @sunles

#it takes time #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #harry potter

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tooft · 3 years

Text

It isn't surprising that death hides itself behind the countless names we have created for it. Few like to think about their supposed end, and so those that have died will be spoken of in hushed tones, described as having passed on, or more commonly, that they are resting, at peace as they sleep beneath the earth. Eternal rest from the calamity and chaos that is living, with many choosing to think that it is a welcome respite from the world that is constantly changing and shifting. In a way, they're not fully incorrect, but their reasoning for why the dead rest so soundly is not quite right either.

See, what people don't know (or the living ones at least), is that death is utterly and exasperatingly exhausting.

To be dead is to be tired, adrift in a haze as you struggle to keep your spirit, soul, whatever it is, from fading too much. Without the energy that comes with having a physical vessel, the dead are perpetually on the edge of burnout, with newly deceased barely able to handle a few hours at a time. It does get easier as one adjusts to the afterlife, able to stay up for weeks or even months, but the desire to just drift off into blissful unconsciousness never eases up. It just is a matter of building up one's ability to resist it.

Most can't be bothered, and I can't say I blame them. Unless someone was murdered, or has some other form of dramatic, unfinished business there's little reason to stay aware of the passage of time at all. The mortal world has little impact on that of the dead, and most are content to just catch up on any important events that happened during their rest the next time they're able to shake off sleep.

I suppose that the dead being buried in cemeteries both helps and hinders the eternal rest that so many choose to turn to. A comfortable place to sleep is hard to pass up, especially when it's conveniently arranged so that there's little interaction with the more rowdy aspects of living society. Definitely makes it harder to motivate themselves to get up, but then when they've been dead long enough to see the world they lived in disappear into modern day society then there's little reason to hang around. So, they rest, deep within the earth where few can bother them. And the few that do... well that's why I'm around.

Now, given what I've just told you, it might sound like a contradiction when I say that I am the barrier between the living and the dead. Surely a job like that is difficult to accomplish when one spends their days struggling to resist a rather comfortable nap in the dirt. Still, it's true. Anyone trying to start trouble in my cemetery will have to go through me first, and I've yet to find the desire to sleep stronger than my desire to protect those under my care.

There is a reason I'm awake, beyond my overprotectiveness of my charges of course, and that is that this cemetery also happens to be where I died. It was rather dramatic, an ill-planned tryst with a lover that got a bit too stabby near the end. Guess I should have known that any relationship involving a person who wants to meet in a cemetery in the dead of night was not going to end well. I did get over it eventually, once the first few decades had past and I was able to think beyond my anger and exhaustion. Even then I didn't need to sleep as often as those who had been dead far longer than I, though I didn't understand why until one of the older spirits awoke for long enough to explain it to me.

Your site of death has power, one stronger than almost any other force I've come across. It's a gateway between you and the life you once had, a literal crossroad that you passed over to reach the inevitable end. Even if you're body no longer inhabits it, your death site holds the memory of who you once were, and with that comes a well of power and energy that fuels those still close enough to access it. So, unlike everyone else here, I am able to stay up for years before I need to rest, and even then it's only for a few hours.

So, given that I had ample time to do things, and my only friends were asleep 90% of the time, I decided that I would need to find my own ways to entertain myself. You would not believe how many games of solitaire I have played here. I like to think that all that time was useful, but I still somehow suck at that game. I find my other job a lot more productive, even if it doesn't happen all that often.

See, I work to scare the shit out of the living.

Not all of them of course, not even most of those that come to visit. Many are just here to see those long gone from their lives, to reminisce and honor the dead who sleep below them. Bothering them would be a waste of time, not to mention rude, and if I tried scaring off every single person who came through those gates I would not have enough energy to even speak with you now. No, my targets are those that come with hopes of bothering the dead, though they might not know that's what they're doing at the time.

The living tend to have respect for the dead, but not everyone does. Mainly kids, teenagers who are bored and angry with the world, or just those that think the remote nature of a cemetery means that no one will be bothered by something that their doing. They arrive and cause whatever ruckus they're seeking out, and oftentimes waking up a lot of people who have more than earned a peaceful rest.

Some are easier to deal with than others. I like the ones that come with their boards and pendants, rituals to speak to those that can barely keep their eyes open. They're easy to mess with, you just need to knock over a couple of things and poke the planchette around enough to get the threat of retribution across. Maybe throw in a few whispered words and far off cackles to be caught by the wind that just so happens to creep into their heads. They tend to leave in a hurry, to which I say good riddance. They're better off trying to talk to some pissed off spirit or poltergeist in a house somewhere, those that want to talk and oftentimes rarely stop doing so once you get them started.

Others are... interesting to say the least. While annoying, at least most of those trying to communicate with us are respectful about it. Those who just come to a cemetery to raise hell or to have a seemingly empty location to perform acts away from living eyes are quite different in that regard. If they do acknowledge us, it's in passing, and more than often with laughter as they taunt the scary ghosts that apparently "haunt" this location. It's all rather rude if you ask me, especially since if anyone's haunting somewhere they're not meant to be it's them. I'm a bit less creative when it comes to bothering these types of folk, I prefer to just make my presence impossible to ignore. You know those times when it feels like the air itself is pressing down on you, to the point where it's hard to breathe? While often that's just anxiety, it could also be that you managed to piss off some spirit or another, and that just happens to be the best way for them to tell you to leave.

It doesn't always work, of course. The living can be remarkably dense to the desires of the dead, even when they claim to know what we would have wanted were we still alive. They just ignore whatever signals I'm sending them, going about their business as if a cemetery isn't a place of peace. That's when I have to get a bit more aggressive.

It's a lot of work showing ourselves to the living. Even if you died in the place you're occupying in death, it can take a lot out of you to physically manifest yourself in such a way that the living can see you at all. I try to stick to more simpler methods, pushing or throwing objects or even telling them to leave. But some just don't want to listen, even when I know they're scared, they act as though they have a right to be there. So, physical manifestation becomes a lot more appealing.

Even those who take pride in their bravery find it more than a bit unsettling when a young woman dripping with blood rushes them from the shadows of the trees, screaming bloody murder. If they don't take off immediately, cackling maniacally as I wield the knife my lover left me tends to do the trick. I've yet to meet anyone whose stuck around after that, though it does tend to result in the police having to make sure that there isn't an actual murderer roaming the gravestones. I don't mind though, especially since it seems the police are getting used to such reports and don't stay long. Plus I'm usually asleep long before they arrive, since such matters are rather tiring.

It's a job I enjoy, and a job that's necessary for those who live (or "live") here. With that said, it is a lonely occupation. Any friends I've made are more often than not using their eternity to dream, which I don't mind, but it does make it harder to drift alone day after day. I've learned everything there is to know about this place, every tree and every stone. I love it more than anything, but the monotony does take its toll.

You, however, are certainly a break from the usual.

Don't get me wrong, I would have much preferred if we weren't having this conversation at all, given that doing so confirms the awful truth of the matter. But it's not like there's anything we can do to change it now. I do apologize for not intervening, but I had thought the two of you were just another pair that had come to pay their respects. By the time I saw the gun, there was little I could do to help you.

If it helps at all, they should find your body fairly quickly once someone does arrive. Hard to miss the bloodstains when they are such a contrast to the snowy winter landscape. What are the odds that another person would be murdered here? I appreciate you letting me blather on like this, it's so rare I get to talk to someone new. Usually anyone arriving here is asleep for a good few years, and even then we haven't had anyone new since the last plot was filled ten years ago. But then, I shouldn't keep you awake any longer.

I'm honestly impressed that you're still conscious, not many people tend to be at this point. I hope I've answered any of the urgent questions you might have. The rest can wait until after you've slept. There's a few places I'd highly recommend for napping, I'll take you to my favorite now! It's just over the hill there, can you walk? Wonderful, right this way.

I'm sure everyone will be happy to meet you, whenever that ends up happening. Not like we don't have time for that in any case. I do hope you like it here, moving resting spots can be a bit of a nightmare. Lots of energy needed, though I guess you could just follow your body if you truly wanted. I'll keep an eye out for anyone nearby who might be able to help. Whatever happens next, I'm sure it will be interesting if nothing else.

Sleep well, for you are among friends, my dear.

Goodnight.

#my writing #response to a prompt #short story #ghost story #technically anyways #haunting is a subjective term #writing #story

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

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I know requests are closed but I’m obsessed with this Olympic ice dancing duo, they’ve been skating for 20 years since they were 7 and 9 and the guy is always saying she’s his favourite person and how beautiful she is and their chemistry is so intense and their body language just says they’re in love but it was announced that he is engaged to another woman and I’m sad and waiting for them to realise they’re in love! I was wondering if you could write something along these lines with Tom? Ily 💙

I love this idea. I pulled inspiration from Scott Moir and Tessa Virtue interviews and from Little Women.

One Man Cult

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You and Tom are inseparable ice skating duo who aren’t as inseparable as you thought

Masterlist

“This unrequited love, to me it’s nothing but a one man cult.” - Frank Ocean

Tom had been your ice skating partner for 20 years now. You’d come a long way from the frozen pond behind your house to an Olympic ice skating rink. The way you two skated was pure art. You moved impossibly in synch as you floated over the ice together, winning competition after competition together. Tom had never once dropped you or let you down due to your powerful connection to each other. He was always there to lift you, dip you, spin you, and you carry you around the ice as you danced to the music. Your undeniable chemistry and endearing friendship made you and Tom the most popular team in the Olympics on social media, but it was your powerful skating that made you the most decorated skaters in history.

After every competition, with the medals you wore around your neck clanging together, Tom always picked you up bridal style to carry you off the ice. He’d been doing it since he was nine and he’d do it until the last day he ever skated. You were always met with a rush of cameras and microphones from journalists who wanted to know just as much about your relationship as they did your performance.

Your most notable interview was when you appeared on Ellen together after winning gold medals in the Olympics. Your fans campaigned for you to be on the show and Ellen happily complied. Despite the large couch, you and Tom sat practically on top of each other. He had one arm secure around your waist and the other resting on your knee. In return, you had both hands on top of his, giving them a gentle squeeze whenever you felt butterflies in your tummy.

“Y/n, Tom, how did you two meet?” Ellen began the interview.

“We met when I was 7 and he was 9 because we were neighbors. We formed this unbreakable connection and we’ve been best friends since then.” You answered, looking at Tom for most of your speech. “I honestly don’t even remember my life before him. We started skating on the pond outside our houses and realized we both had a love as well as a talent for it.”

“Wow. That’s 20 years now.” Ellen nodded in admiration. “You guys must be very close.”

“Oh, definitely. I know everything about him and he knows everything about me. I can’t imagine not being with him everyday. We’re a family.” You smiled as Tom squeezed your hip, feeling the nerves melt away at his touch.

“Yeah, we’re very very close. I live for Y/n.” Tom chimed in and the audience melted.

“And there was never a romance? No feelings for the other?” Ellen asked skeptically.

“Uh-“ Tom scratched his neck, looking at you.

“Nope. Just a really close friendship.” You nodded.

“Does Tom know that?” Ellen teased and both your faces flushed as the audience laughed.

“I ask because you guys clearly have a lot a chemistry together as we see on the ice but your fans see a little more than just chemistry. They see a romance between the two of you.” Ellen said as a picture of you and Tom flashed on the screen. It was a photo of your last performance, and you were sitting on his knee with your hands pressing his forehead against yours. He had one hand around you waist and the other gripping your thigh. The audience laughed and ooo’d at the picture and you hid your face in Toms neck for a moment.

“Oh shoot. Maybe we are a couple.” You joked and felt Tom laugh beside you.

“Did you know we were a couple? That’s crazy. I had no idea.” Tom teased back. You laughed at his joke and he smiled at your laughter, throwing an arm around your shoulders and kissing your temple.

“So you are a couple?” Ellen asked as a different picture came on screen, a close up this time. You had both hands on Toms face and he had his firmly on your back with your legs wrapped around his waist, lips almost touching. The audience laughed again and Ellen’s point was made.

“No. We’re not. We’re just a really great team.” Tom confirmed as he looked at you. “Y/n is my favorite person in the world. There is no one I admire or love more. I mean, I’ve loved this girl since I was 9. We have such a deep love for each other and an unbreakable connection that I know I could never find anywhere else. She’s my soulmate, really. I’m so lucky I get to spend 23 hours a day with her.”

“What’s the other hour?” Ellen asked.

“Icing wounds and bathroom breaks.” You and Tom said in unison, earning a chuckle from Ellen and the audience.

“We really do take it as a compliment though. If that many people see us performing and think we’re a couple in love, then I think we’re doing something right.” Tom continued. “I think all the romance rumors speak to our chemistry and ability to portray a romance as we skate together.”

“Exactly. And we really do love each other.” You said as a third picture came up, you and Tom hugging tightly after a performance. You and your arms secure around his neck and he was lifting you off the ground. “We’ve spent the last 20 years building this partnership and it’s so rewarding to see where it’s taken us. I’m just really lucky I could go on this journey with Tom at my side. My favorite moments are always after the performance, when the crowd is cheering and the music stopped and it feels like there’s no one in the world but me and Tom.” You said as you gazed into Toms eyes. He couldn’t resist kissing your forehead, in no way helping the conversation.

“So you are a couple?” Ellen repeated and the audience chuckled again.

That’s how interviews often went, but some reporters wanted a different story.

“Where’s your other half?” A reporter asked when Tom came off the ice rink alone. He was met with a dozen more reporters and took a seat on a foldable chair to answer the questions.

“I know!” He laughed. “She’s getting changed. It feels so weird to be interviewed without her. Don’t worry though, she’ll be here shortly.”

“While we have you, we do have some questions.” Another reporter spoke up.

“Go for it.” Tom smiled.

“What makes Y/n a good partner?” They asked.

“Y/n is honestly just a perfect person. I love everything about her. She’s my best friend in the entire world. She’s so beautiful and so so dedicated to our work. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.” Tom said sincerely into a camera.

“You never considered trying you luck as a solo act?” A different reporter tried to instigate drama and Tom quickly shut him down.

“I couldn’t go solo because I myself am not a solo act. Y/n is my other half on and off of the ice. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.” Tom replied suavely.

“Hi! Am I interrupting?” You asked as you walked over to Tom. He smiled happily as the sight of you and reached out a hand to guide you over to where he was.

“Here, we can pull up a chair for you.” A reporter offered but you politely held up a hand.

“That’s okay.” You shook your head as you sat comfortably on Toms lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“We were just asking Tom if either of you ever considered going solo?” You were asked.

“Oh, never.” You laughed. “I don’t exist if I’m not with Tom. We’re connected. I could never not be with him.” You turned over your shoulder to look at him and he smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You two seem very close. Y/n, you wouldn’t date him?” A reporter asked and you laughed in surprise.

“Maybe.” You shrugged to appease them.

“Wow. I’ve known her for 20 years and we’ve been getting interviewed for maybe 10 now and that’s the first time I’ve gotten a “maybe”. Must be my lucky day.” Tom joked and squeezed you tightly. His answer seemed to satisfy the reporters and they left you alone.

A rough patch of ice and a broken ankle sent you to the hospital for a week and benched from the ice for two months. Unfortunately, the injury came in June, right as Tom was scheduled to return home for a holiday with his family. It killed him to leave you alone, but he knew with his busy schedule he’d never be able to reschedule.

“Go. Your family is counting on you.” You promised him from your hospital bed. He shook his head at you.

“You’re my family.” He insisted.

“I’ll be fine. Go. Be with them.” You told him, but he still looked unsure.”

“I’ll miss you. Can’t you come with me?” He whined. You laughed at his childish behavior.

“The doctor said I can’t fly with my cast.” You reminded him as you looked down at your bright pink cast. It had one signature, Toms name is a big heart. “It’ll be okay. We’re not attached at the hip. We can handle a few weeks apart.” You assured him.

“I don’t know if I can.” Tom laughed sadly and took your hand.

“You’ll survive.” You touched his cheek and he leaned into your palm.

“Without you? Impossible.” He smirked and pressed a kiss to your palm.

The three week vacation was extended by four weeks when Toms grandmother fell ill. Still not able to fly with your cast, you had to result to FaceTiming at 4 am just to get a hold of him. Being without Tom was strange enough, but he was acting stranger. His brothers told you he went out most nights and came back at odd times. His mom told you he wasn’t looking well, but brushed it off as a minor cold.

“I’m sure he’s just used to you keeping him in check, making sure he’s hydrated and getting enough sleep and all that. He’s probably just overwhelmed and being without you is making it harder. I wouldn’t worry too much.” His mother assured you but you still worried. It’s been 7 weeks since you’d seen him and you hated every second of it.

The day your cast was taken off, you got on the first flight to the UK. You didn’t get to Toms house until late, but Harry told you he was home. You climbed into his first story window and he jumped in surprise when he saw you

“Y/n?” Tom asked in shock at the sight of you.

“Hi Tommy.” You kept your voice low so you wouldn’t disturb his family as you jumped into his arms.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t fly?” He asked as he held you tightly, taking in your scent once again.

“Doctor cleared me this morning.” You held up you healed foot with a proud smile.

“I didn’t know you’d gotten your cast taken off.” Tom said, a little disappointed he wasn’t aware of all the details of your life anymore.

“Well, it’s been pretty hard to get a hold of you lately.” You said a little sadly. “God, what’s it been, like two months? I’ve missed you so much. Sit, tell me everything.” You guided him to his bed and sat down with him.

“My grandmothers doing a lot better. They’re gonna release her from the hospital soon.” Tom said and you noticed he was beginning to sweat.

“That’s great Tom. I’m so happy to hear that.” You ignored his stiffness and rubbed his shoulder.

“Thanks.” He sighed and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, looking incredibly torn with himself. “Y/n-“

“I’m really happy to see you, Tommy.” You interrupted him. “I know I was the one saying we could stand being apart for a few weeks, but I honestly couldn’t last another day of this. I never realized how much I wanted to see you everyday. You’re a huge part of my life and it’s been so weird not seeing y-“

“I’m engaged.” He blurted, cutting you off. You blinked in surprise at his sudden announcement.

“What?” You laughed shortly, trying to read his face but the room was too dark.

“I met her over the summer when I came home and she fell in love with me. She asked if I wanted to get married and I said yes.” Tom continued in the same flat, emotionless tone. “She’s going to be my wife.”

“What?” You repeated, still not believing him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but my mind is made up.” Tom continued as if he wasn’t telling you the most outrageous thing you’d ever heard. He stood up, unable to look at you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, can we go back a second?” You got up as well and walked to him. “You’ve known her what, two months? Three?”

“One. We met in July.” Tom said quietly and you scoffed.

“You can’t possibly be serious.” You said gravely. Tom wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded.

“I am.” He told you, a sad gleam in his eyes. “She wants to be married by Christmas.”

“Well what do you want?” You asked, looking for a different answer then what you were getting.

“Whatever she wants is fine by me.” He said robotically and you felt nauseous.

“I’ve never even met her.” You pointed out. More importantly, she’d never met you. You exactly a minor note in Toms symphony. You guys lived as a duet and now he was trying to rewrite the chorus without asking you first.

“You will. I’m going to introduce to her everyone. My family, my friends, you. You’ll get to know her.” Tom said as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Oh so your family hasn’t met her either?” You laughed bitterly. “Do they even know she exists?”

“I’ll tell them.” He said, and you knew he was ashamed.

“Tom, what?” You asked gently, going easier on him now that you know he was upset. “Your family doesn’t even know? What’s going on? This isn’t like you.” You tilted his chin towards you and made him look at you. As soon as his eyes met yours, they filled with tears.

“What, just because I’ve never had a girlfriend before means I can’t have one now?” He asked with a defeated shrug.

“You have had girlfriends before.” You reminded him and he shook his head.

“Have I?” He laughed sadly. “I’ve tried, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t date anyone else knowing that they’d never…”

“Never what?” You stroked his cheek lightly, pleading with him for an answer to his madness. “Tom.” You urged when he hesitated to answer.

“Never compare to you.” He gripped your wrist as teared ran down his cheeks. You looked at him in confusion and tried to search his face again. He was making less and less sense.

“What are you talking about?” You whispered and Toms lip trembled.

“If you’re gonna stand in front of me right now and pretend there hasn’t been something between us for the last 20 years then you might as well just leave now.” Tom said through gritted teeth. You felt the wind knocked out of you and took a step back, withdrawing your hands and holding yourself tightly.

“Thomas…” You breathed.

“I can’t find another my heart will beat for. I can’t do it.” Tom cried in pain. “I have loved you since I was nine years old and it’s killing me. I can’t move on. I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. This unrequited love is destroying me.” He sobbed. “And I swear to you, I will never love anyone more and nothing has to change between us as partners but…” ,his lip trembled as he hesitated, “but I’m lonely! We spend all day together but I want to spend the nights too. I’m in love with you, Y/n. We have something incredibly rare between us. Can’t you see that? Please tell me you see that.”

You stayed silent as tears slipped out of his eyes, not having any clue what to say.

“Please?” He whispered at your silence.

“I do see it.” You touched his cheek lightly and he smiled in hope. “I see a beautiful and loving friendship between two people, Tom I’m sorry-“ he threw your hands off his cheeks and turned his back to you.

“I thought you felt the same. You’re always going on about the connection we have. Every friend of mine, all my brothers even your own mother told me there was no way you didn’t feel the same.” Tom sniffled. “The whole world sees something between us. They’ve seen it since we were kids. How is it that everyone sees it but you?” He looked at you over his shoulder.

“I just don’t, Tom. I’m sorry. If I could change it, I would.” You put a hand on his back and rubbed his shoulder blade with your thumb. “I love you so much, but not in that way. Not in the way you want me too. Not in the way you deserve.”

“You tell me I deserve it but then tell me not to marry this girl?” He turned around again and you saw how red and puffy his face was. You tried to reach out to him but he pushed your hands away.

“You don’t deserve a half baked engagement to some girl you met a month ago.” You said. “You deserve someone who knows everything about you, little things and big things, and someone loves you deeply and unconditionally. Someone you have a connection with.” You were as upset as he was now.

“Is that not you?” He cocked his head.

“Of course it’s me. Just not romantically. You have all my love, Thomas. I swear to you, my hearts beats just for you. Is that not enough?” You cried and he looked down at the floor.

“I would have you.” He said in defeat, nodding his head as he looked up at you. “If it were enough, I would have you.”

“You’re always gonna have me-“

“-I love you.” He cut in.

“-maybe not in the way that you want but that doesn’t mean-“

“-I love you.” He said again, as if he was accepting it.

“-we can’t continue being friends. You’re still my favorite person-“

“Just not the person you want to be with?” He asked with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could give him.

“Don’t be. My bad for assuming, right?” He shuffled his feet and you felt more tears rising in your eyes.

“Can we talk about this? Please?” You begged, worrying if you ended this conversation it’d be the last one you ever had with him.

“I’ve said all I’ve had to say. What about you?” Tom shrugged and wiped his eyes.

“We need to be adults about this, Tom.” You grabbed his hand to keep him in the room. He looked down at your hands for a long time before squeezing yours and looking at you tearfully in the eyes.

“I can’t be anything but in love with you.” He said with a sad smile.

“Then why are you marrying her?” You asked him desperately.

“Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.” He told you.

“You’re not alone. You have me.” You held your intertwined hands against your chest, kissing the back of his hand.

“Do I?” He asked and dropped your hand, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

The next few months leading up to Christmas had an ice between you and Tom that chilled the country. The distance between the two of you wasn’t noticeable enough to hurt your scores on the ice, but it was unbearable when you weren’t working. He wouldn’t talk to you, wouldn’t even look at you. Conversations never lead back to that night in his bedroom, no matter how hard you tried to lead them there. Tom went on as if it never happened, as if he never confessed his feelings for you.

You on the other hand, were given plenty of time to reflect. In those few months, you realized you’d never love anyone as you loved Tom, and in return, no one would ever love you the way he always had. You’d been so consumed in being his best friend that you hadn’t realized you wanted to be more. You knew there was no one in the world you could imagine spending the rest of your life with other than Tom. He was your soulmate, and you were his. Your heart broke as you knew you came to the conclusion too late. He was engaged to another girl. He was happy now, or so he claimed. So instead of confessing your feelings, you kept your mouth shut and let him distance himself from you.

It was different on the ice. Neither of you could conceal how you felt. Your chemistry was still evident and radiated off every leap and turn. With your newly realized love for him, your skating became even cleaner and more passionate. You were at the lowest point in your relationship but at the highest in your careers. You spend endless hours with Tom, practicing, performing, and being interviewed. Interviews turned awkward fast whenever Toms engagement was brought up. The rest of the world was as confused as you were.

“So Tom, you’re engaged?” A reporter asked and the room quieted down.

“Yes, I am.” Tom said stiffly. You tended up at his side and faked a smile.

“And not to Y/n?” The reporter joked. You felt your face flush, and not in the wya it usually did when you were questioned about your relationship with Tom.

“I was just was surprised as you were.” Tom said with sad laughter. You wanted to place a hand on his knee but decided against it in fear of rejection.

“How did you react, Y/n?” The reporter asked you.

“Yeah, I was surprised too. When I thought about my future with Tom and all the milestones I imagined we’d reach together, this was never a apart of the plan.” You laughed nervously. “I never saw this coming.”

On December 19, the church was set for Toms wedding. You sat in your seat with your leg bouncing nervously as his bride walked down the isle.

You couldn’t handle the smug look she gave you as she passed.

You couldn’t handle the stares of pity from everyone around you.

You couldn’t handle the somber look Tom had on his face as his eyes bore into yours.

You really couldn’t handle the feeling inside of you that told you you were making a terrible mistake.

Unable to handle being silent about your feelings anymore, you stood up. You locked eyes with Tom and gave him the most sincere look of an apology you could give him. He nodded and you took that as your cue to run out of the church.

“If anyone has any objections as to why these two should wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The priest read.

“I do.” Tom blurted.

“No no, you don’t say that yet, son.” The priest chuckled.

“No, I do. I object.” Tom said and dropped the girls hands like they were poison. “I can’t marry you, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” His bride, no longer to be, demanded. Tom looked at the priest apologetically and then at his family.

“Because I’m in love with someone else.” He said as he stared at your vacant seat. There were no gasps of shock, just sighs of relief.

“I’m sorry everyone.” He said and then gave one last look at the girl. “I’m so sorry.”

Tom ran down the steps on the alter and out the doors, laughing a little as he went.

“Y/n? Y/n, wait!” Tom screamed once he was out of the church. He slowed down to a halt and looked around for you, but didn’t see you anywhere. He blew out a breath of defeat, knowing he was too late. You didn’t wait. You hadn’t run for him. You just ran.

Tom dragged his feet as he made his way to his car. There was no way he could go back into the church. His only option was to go home. Once Tom approached his car, he could hear someone jiggling the door handle on the passenger side. Suddenly, an all too familiar friend of his popped up from behind the car.

“What took you so long? We gotta go.” You urged in a panic. Toms entire face lit up at the sight of you. He smiled fondly, just taking you in.

You had waited.

But it didn’t seem like you could wait much longer. Tom unlocked the car and hopped inside. You bunched up your dress and did the same. Tom started the car and you drove off without another word. Once you had left the church parking lot, he looked back and laughed.

“I can’t believe I just did that! I left a girl on the alter. ” Toms smile quickly faded. “Can you imagine how that must feel? She must be devastated. Oh my God, should we go back?” Tom was experiencing excitement, confusion and guilt all at once.

“You can turn back if you want.” You said calmly. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you’d do it for him.

“No. No of course we can’t go back. I can’t marry her just because I feel guilty.” Tom said mostly to himself. “Especially when I don’t love her.”

“You don’t?” You asked, having already suspected that he didn’t.

“I never did. And I don’t suppose she loved me either.” He laughed softly. “We were just two lonely people who didn’t want to be lonely anymore.”

“You don’t have to be lonely ever again.” You put one of your hands on his thigh. Tom looked at you before picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. You smiled slightly as he continued to drive.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom said, breaking the silence.

“Anything.” You replied.

“How’d you know I’d run after you?” He wondered. “I could’ve gone through with it. I could’ve married her. You must’ve waited by my car for a reason. How did you know I’d come after you?”

“It was that look.” You admitted. “I saw it in your eyes when you were on the alter. You know how we always say we have a connection?”

“Yeah?” He asked with a shy smile.

“That was it. It was our connection. You knew I’d run. I knew you’d follow.” You explained before quieting down. “Why did you run?“ You asked timidly.

"I couldn’t have what I really wanted, so I settled for whatever girl let me put a ring on her finger.” Tom confessed as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I see.” You nodded, also looking ahead.

“What about you? Why did you run?” He snuck a glance at you.

“I guess I couldn’t have what I really wanted either, and I couldn’t sit around and pretend to be happy for someone else when I was miserable.” You told him. “It hurt too much. Especially when it was my fault that I was miserable.”

"What is it that you really wanted?” Tom questioned and you looked out the window.

“Poor girl is probably so embarrassed.” You mumbled, feeling genuinely sorry for the girl he left at the alter. “The whole country was rooting against her and they won. She didn’t get what she wanted either.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Tom said, feeling his heart pick up speed when a tiny smirk appeared on your face.

“What was it again?” You asked, shifting to face Tom. If he wanted to go all those months avoiding the conversation, you weren’t gonna let him have it when it was finally convenient for him. He needed to work for it.

“You said you couldn’t have what you really wanted, so you were miserable. What was it that you really wanted?” Tom asked, looking at you for answers. It was the first time you had made and held eye contact since you both ran.

“What I wanted was you.” You confessed, and Tom slammed on his breaks.

“Get out of the car.” He ordered.

“What? Why?” You asked as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Out. Now.” He repeated.

You hastily got out of the car, seeing that he had stopped at a small elevated platform that looked over a river. You walked over to the railing and waited for Tom as he slammed his door shut and made his way over to you.

“Look, Tommy, I didn’t mean to upset you and if you could just let me explain-” Tom cut you off by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into a long awaited kiss. You froze at this unexpected sign of affection, but quickly put your arms around his neck, where they belonged. Tom hugged you closer until there was no space between you.

You only broke apart to gasp for air. Tom smiled and pulled you into a hug, pressing a light kiss to your temple and holding you tight.

“I’ve missed you.” He said softly into your hair.

“I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry we fought.” You cried into his chest.

"Me too. I shouldn’t have sprung all that information on you at once. And I’m sorry I got mad for expecting you to figure out your feelings right away. I should’ve given you time.” He sniffled as he rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry too. And I do feel the same.” You pushed away from him a little so you could see him. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.

"Let’s put that in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is you and I, here and now.” Tom answered as he brushed your hair off your forehead.

“You look great, by the way. I never got to tell you that.” You complimented Tom as you fixed his tie.

“Thanks. I was more excited for the suit than I was for the wedding. It’s a shame it’s gonna go to waste.” He laughed lightly as an idea popped into your head.

“It doesn’t have to.” You realized.

“What do you mean?” He asked curiously.

“There’s a chapel about five miles from here.” Was all you said. Tom knew exactly what you were thinking. You grabbed his hand and you both ran for the car. Before you took off, Tom ran back to the railing and threw the flower in his lapel into the river, the flower that matched the brides bouquet. You laughed and applauded him as he got back into the car.

An hour later, you were officially married. You were slightly disappointed that your families couldn’t be there to see it, but Tom promised you that you could throw a huge wedding reception to celebrate your newly realized love later on. Before getting back into Tom’s jeep, you pulled your husband into a hug. Tom smiled and put his arms around his bride. You stayed in each other’s embrace for as long as you could, swaying gently as Tom hummed your favorite song. You were used to performing the most elaborate dance routines together, so this simple slow dance was nice. He was about to pull away when you hugged him tighter.

“Wait. Don’t let go.” You said and Tom put his arms back around you.

“I won’t.” He promised. “I won’t ever.”

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