#he's a sneaky little bastard but i will stand by that he deserved better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

A continuation of NHS invites WWX to JYL's wedding, and what happened there? Perhaps about how the estemed Hanguang Jun ended up running off and eloping with the Nie sect heir's intended?

continuation of that short fic, now it’s own fic on ao3

Plus One - Chapter 2

“So,” Nie Huaisang said, sidling up to his brother and his two sworn brothers now that they’d finally gotten to the party part of the wedding and they could all huddle up in a corner to be anti-social together.

Or, well, for Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to be anti-social and for Jin Guangyao to be forcefully restrained from attempting to perform hosting duties, which he incessantly tried to do - it was like he had no idea what servants were for. Which Nie Huaisang supposed was understandable, given everything, but the way Jin Guangshan encouraged him to do it certainly wasn’t.

“So,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice only mildly ominous in a way that suggested, to Nie Huaisang at least, that he was still finding this whole thing incredibly funny.

Accordingly, Nie Huaisang ignored him. “How much do you think I can milk being horribly dumped?” he asked. “Because I think I’m about to be horribly dumped.”

“By your new ‘intended’?” Lan Xichen said, looking amused. “Really, Huaisang, I don’t know what you were thinking by bringing him.”

“Uh, that he deserves to attend his shijie’s wedding? Obviously?”

“But to bring him to Lanling…”

“He’s my guest,” Nie Huaisang said haughtily, bringing out his fan and doing his best ‘rich young master who is better than this and is most certainly above your petty questions’ Jin sect impression. “You aren’t suggesting that the Jin sect would take back an invitation they freely issued, would they? Or breach the rules of hospitality?”

“Huaisang, Xichen didn’t mean it that way and you know it,” his brother said, sounding annoyed, but in his relaxed run-of-the-mill ‘I hate parties’ type of annoyance, rather than specifically about his behavior. “Obviously the Jin sect won’t do anything about it. Regardless of any other considerations, anything they did would be refusing to show our Nie sect face, and then I’d have to make an issue of it.”

He sounded wistful. Probably thinking about how he could use it as an excuse to storm out and go home early.

“We’re only worried about you, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao murmured, looking remarkably calm for someone who was definitely (if unobtrusively) being blocked from leaving by two very tall men with excessive mother hen tendencies. “You’re all grown up now, not a child – you need to think about the political implications your actions might have. Aren’t you concerned about your brother’s reaction?”

Huaisang was about to explain that he’d gotten his brother’s permission, but then he remembered that they were in Lanling, full of spies, so he decided to tell Jin Guangyao about that later.

“It’s not my problem that Sect Leader Nie has to think about politics at what should be a happy family event,” he said instead, nose in the air, and Lan Xichen frowned even as Nie Mingjue sighed, probably at Nie Huaisang’s total lack of caring about even the basic obligations of etiquette. Or possibly his reference to their little inside joke, but these were his sworn brothers, so they’d have to figure out sooner or later that Sect Leader Nie and Nie Mingjue weren’t always the same. “Besides, that isn’t what I asked. I asked about how long I can milk my terrible heartbreaking break up.”

“I thought you were getting dumped?” his brother asked, passing him a jar of wine. A good brother, even if he was mocking him.

“Getting dumped leads to a break-up,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Wei-xiong is a thankless white-eyed wolf who was just using me with absolutely no consideration of my tender feelings.”

“You have tender feelings?” his brother said. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

Nie Huaisang kicked him in the shin.

As usual, it had no impact whatsoever on his brother and only hurt his own toes, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said, his voice oddly gentle, even softer than normal. “Did you – really – for Wei Wuxian –”

Nie Huaisang, who’d been taking a drink of wine, nearly choked. “Er-ge,” he said, mildly horrified. “Please. Wei-xiong is a very handsome gentleman, fearless and dashing, with all the skills one might ask for in a son-in-law –”

“Brother-in-law,” his brother muttered, as if he hadn’t been Nie Huaisang’s de facto father figure for years.

“– and, yes, I suppose we have similar tastes in drinking, carousing, and pornography –”

“Of course you do,” Jin Guangyao said, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hide how his lips were twitching.

“– but let us not forget: he lives in a trash heap. With Wen sect. I have standards!”

“I thought he was marrying in?” Lan Xichen asked, smiling again now that he had confirmed that there was no actual heart-breaking occurring in the vicinity. “He’d live in the Unclean Realm that way, wouldn’t he?”

“He would not,” Nie Mingjue put in. “I don’t care if they’re all enlightened saints that do nothing but charity all day, no one surnamed Wen is living in my home.”

“You see what I’m up against?” Nie Huaisang said, holding out his hands in appeal to his brother’s sworn brothers. “My da-ge doesn’t understand, he’s only good for swinging a saber! How cruel and heartless must a man be to stand in the way of true love?”

Lan Xichen covered his smile with his sleeve. Jin Guangyao pressed his lips together in such a way that made his cheeks especially round and quivering with suppressed laughter, like a mouse stuffing its face to bulging with rice.

“Er-ge, you wouldn’t be nearly this cruel if it were you, would you?” Nie Huaisang asked, reaching out and tugging said sleeve. “You’d be kind and generous about it – I bet you’d find them a nice little place to live, maybe next to those foothills you’re always saying you want someone to use but that you’re not willing to sell…”

“Were you planning on moving in with er-ge after your marriage, then?” Jin Guangyao asked. He looked much more amused and relaxed now – maybe he’d been stressing over this being some sort of scheme and was feeling much better now that he realized it was actually just Nie Huaisang’s nonsense. His paranoia had always been deeply endearing. “I don’t think your brother will like that.”

“Not me,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes at him. “But if it was Lan Zhan sweeping him away, er-ge would definitely support him. Right, er-ge?”

“I always support my brother,” Lan Xichen said with a smile.

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said, taking another swallow of wine. “Because he and Wei Wuxian just had a very intense conversation in a secluded corner that ended with them kissing and running off together, so it’s about to become your problem.”

Nie Mingjue choked, Jin Guangyao’s jaw dropped, and Lan Xichen’s eyes got really big.

“Not joking,” Nie Huaisang clarified cheerfully. “Totally serious.”

“Excuse me,” Lan Xichen said, getting up very quickly. “I need to – go see –”

He didn’t even bother finishing the sentence before rushing off.

“Go with him,” Nie Mingjue said to Jin Guangyao, who blinked owlishly at him. “It’s going to be a shitshow, isn’t it? Politically, I mean.”

“Uh,” Jin Guangyao said.

“Really, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “The notorious ostracized-by-the-cultivation-world demonic cultivator Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, is abruptly reintroduced to society as my intended bride, only to be stolen away by the Lan sect’s Second Jade, the second most desirable bachelor in the cultivation world, in the middle of a wedding party thrown by Lanling Jin? I have no idea why you think this would so much as raise an eyebrow.”

“That’s a lot of words to say ‘shitshow’, which is why I didn’t,” Nie Mingjue said. “Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – oh, fuck it, A-Yao, someone is going to need to keep their head about them and think about the political implications long enough to keep Xichen from getting himself into serious trouble, and you’re better at it than I am. Go help him. I’ll cover for you two here.”

Jin Guangyao still looked torn.

“Don’t listen to da-ge, he’s worrying too much,” Nie Huaisang volunteered his own opinion. “How much trouble can the Lan sect really get into over a matter of love?”

“I’m going at once,” Jin Guangyao said, and ran after Lan Xichen.

A moment later, Nie Huaisang handed the jar of wine back to his brother.

“Well done,” he said, voice much more neutral than it had been a moment before. “Assuming your goal was to deprive Sect Leader Jin of san-ge’s assistance while we define the situation to make it come out the way we want.”

“Couldn’t have done it without your timely assist,” Nie Mingjue said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did so hate politics, and he hated being good at it even more. Truly there was nothing better, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion, than forcing his brother to relent and give in to the sneaky bastard half of his heritage. “Anyway, Sect Leader Jin is drunk and his heir is the groom, and thus occupied. It’s only reasonable that I, as the person with the next highest status, take charge of dispersing the news.”

“And by ‘dispersing the news’ you mean rehabilitate Wei-xiong’s reputation, get him reinstated in the Jiang sect, and arrange an appropriate marriage between him and Lan Zhan before anyone can complain about an inappropriate elopement, of course.”

“It’s called being efficient, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said.

“It’s called creating a countervailing alliance to the Jiang-Jin sect connection, getting both the Jiang sect and the Yiling Patriarch to owe our sect a favor – not to mention the Lan sect, too! – and conveniently also undercutting Sect Leader Jin’s authority just at the moment he’s trying to install himself as the new ruler of the cultivation world.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, finishing off the jar and putting it down. “I’m far too stupid to be considering any of that. Only good for swinging a saber, remember?”

Nie Huaisang sniggered.

“Yes, I remember,” he said. “You won a whole war against a much stronger, more numerous, and more unified force on Baxia’s strength alone, no brains required. How can I help? You want me crying or excited?”

“Whatever you think is best, Huaisang.” His brother solidified his scowling angry face, just the sort of thing a dumb brute might wear when dealing with politics that he was far too ignorant to understand. “Let’s go right some injustices, shall we?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #plus one #mentalcarebear

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archvillain · 2 years

Note

Kyouraku and Ukitake for the character bingo please! (btw I'm absolutely in love with your Mayuri art)

omg teehee thank you for looking at it -//w//-(\ lessgooooo

starting with the obvious:

they are so cool looking: kyoraku is hot, ok? he's just a handsome guy. he's got everything in the world going for him and i'd probably fall prey to his wiles... i do wish kubo would've made more outfits for him, though, he really looks good in everything

they work better as part of a dynamic: with ukitake, kyoraku is a wonderful character. i looooved the regai filler with the evil gay clones fighting closely in sync and checking in on each other constantly. that being said, while kyoraku can stand on his own as a character, i feel like he just does better with a straight man to riff off...

nothing i like about them is technically canon: ...which is why him letting ukitake slip through his fingers with little fanfare rubs me the wrong fucking way. i get it; kyoraku is a self-sabotaging pity party on two legs at the worst of times, & he's always scummy and a little sneaky, but damn, that would've been an excellent place for fanfare that just got passed up. -_- that was your husband, dude! you just let him die & go to hell! this would be a radically different anime if he was the main character. it'd be a LOT gayer

they are a horrible person: kyoraku's vibes are rancid, almost as bad as isshin's (but not quite). the way he seamlessly blends the trope of "embarrassingly drunk uncle who can chess you under the table" and "creep hitting on you at a bar" in a way that's somehow both charming and loveable... this guy gives me iroh vibes something fierce i wish his backup straight man waifu was not his FUCKING niece however!!! kubo's obsession with fucked up relationships makes bleach so so interesting but the way kyoraku treats her is downright insane. the way that she never even seems to know that he's her uncle... imagine finding out your scumbag man baby of a boss is actually your BLOOD RELATIVE. EUGH

(a lot of this creep factor comes from the extra-canon omake collection from color bleach. the anime goes lighter on it! which is funny, because the anime's filler is MORE incesty with diff characters than the manga in places...)

they're like a blorbo to me: ....i still wuv him tho <3 i hemmed and haw'd about "deeper than they seem" and "not as deep as they seem" but i think all his depth is basically canon text. his depth is actually something i love about him

(climbs up the side of my soapbox with a knife in my teeth) im coming for you jushiro ukitake you son of a BITCH--

they're cool looking: he is so pretty. just getting that out of the way

they got done DIRTY by fans/everybody but me is wrong about them <3: since ukitake is basically what i'd like to call the ambassador of the bastards, the nicest cop in the regime, the poster boy for good boy did nothing wrong. he gets a reputation for being a saint. and that is both in canon and fanon! there's a LOT of angel fluff on this boy, because being the best of the worst still has to count for something? right?

wow! they are a horrible person: AND THEN THERE'S KAIEN'S DEATH. the way that ukitake stakes honor over life, the way that he lets rukia burden herself with the sole ownership of his death to the point that she feels like she deserves death for it... this man is both doing the most and also never ever doing enough. he practically orders kaien's death in the most sinister flashback, and then is never held accountable, leaving rukia to hold herself accountable instead... not to mention the way that he insists on sheltering his underlings & being kind and respectful and honorable, while coexisting like ROYAL GRADE A FREAKS like MAYURI KUROTSUCHI, and seemingly never noticing the blood on the hands of the system he upholds!!!!

wasted potential: this makes him SO INTERESTING. i wish i could crack him open and read his bones like tea leaves. his flaws make him so much more interesting than the candy floss man he tries to present himself as, but then he dies in a really predictable and unhelpful way, which is absolutely fucking tragic, but it doesn't really go anywhere.... gah!!! i have high hopes for this to change in the hell arc, but not... that high

not as deep as they seem/they got too much screen time: in spite of all of this deliciously interesting flawed material sitting seemingly just beneath the surface, ukitake then goes on to become Nice Guy: The Husband for a lot of his appearances. it's like the royal court guard squads are introduced as villains and then becomes the protag cast, and their war crimes are just like... funny. cute. the murders were justified in fact ect. kubo loves the deaths actually. i'm starting to sound like a broken record here: the first arc of the gotei is heinously interesting, but after that bleach loses a lot of steam in general. the blorboification of the gotei did almost every one of them a massive disservice to their complexity, as bleach moved from a story to a serialized performance. i know a lot of this is in fact the pressure of kubo's studio's fault, but it still is tragic

i'm mentally ill about them: ^^^^

they're like a blorbo to me: in spite of all of this i really do like him. he's cute. i like watching him do things on screen even if his flaws got lost in the gotei's move from "flawed military institution we must fight" to "it's fine they were just a little confused we love them now!!". like, what was THAT about

#spoilers for: bleach #i maybe came off as really critical of these two but they are in fact my little guys. little gay guys. i care them really i do

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heavenseed76 · 3 years

Text

The Sweater

Ezra/Prospect & Female OC (can be read as reader)

Summary: I made something for Ezra’s birthday - he deserves a gift

Just a fluffy thought I had.

Rating: T (mentions of heterosexual intercourse, nothing explicit)

It was difficult to hide, having only so much space and so much privacy, but I managed. I gave up a whole set of blacks to fit it on our next job on the Green Moon. This time it would just be Ezra and I, and I was thankful. We’d been on so many jobs together since we’d met, working with other prospectors, sometimes parties as big as six. We never had any time or privacy until this job.

We had thirty cycles before we were meant to catch the slingback. Thirty cycles to pull as many gems as possible from the belly of the Green before we took to the black again. Ezra’s name day fell in those thirty cycles, and I had already started on his gift. I swore to Kevva I would finish it. When Ezra told me he’d never been given a gift, I knew I had to rectify such a travesty.

“There is no greater gift than that of your heart, sweet thing.” He’d said with a smile. He was so humble.

But when my name day came, he woke me with his warm lips against my temple, stubble tickling my ear, a hot cup of real coffee in hand. “Happy name day, sweet thing.” He held a little origami box made of real paper in his other hand and he was blushing. “In all my years in the Green I have never found so rare a gem as you. It’s not much, but I fashioned it with my own hands. It is a trinket made from the pod where we first met.”

The tiny bulb from the dashboard of that pod still sits at the hollow of my throat, a constant reminder of Ezra’s eyes watching me pull apart the origami to find the trinket inside, sparkling with mischief and mirth, and not a small amount of trepidation. The thin leather cord holding it about my neck echoes his large, deft fingers tying it so it lay just right, admiring it where it rests on my skin. It wasn’t until later that I realized it’s placement was intentional as I caught his stare, half-lidded in desire as I keened above him, my gift dangling, and my coffee grown cold.

I’ve worked on it when he’s out of the pod. I’ve been able to get a few rows in when he’s entirely spent, rolling away from his hold and pulling it out from beneath our shared cot. I watch him sleep while my hands work. Years of prospecting, muscle memory kicks in and I can watch his broad chest rise and fall, never dropping a stitch. I wait until he’s showering to compare my work to his compression shirts to determine how long it needs to be, nearly ruining the surprise in the process.

He deserves this and more. This gift of time, my devotion to detail, just for him. No one has ever taken the time to give that to to Ezra. When he cares for something he shines it, cares for it like a precious gem. He holds me, loves me with reverence, delicate and fragile. I have never felt as precious and wanted as I do under his honeyed gaze. And the prose he whispers into my skin when he’s inside me… perhaps a tale for another day.

Being lovers and partners isn’t always easy. We argue. As verbose as he is, Ezra goes quiet when we’re at odds. We walk amongst the trees and vegetation in humid silence, stewing in our anger, hauling our tools back to camp. I want to talk.

“Ez. I’m sorry. I should have let you take the lead on this one. But I need you to trust my judgement. That’s all I want.” I say, leaving it be and starting to strip down to my base layers. I’ve said my piece.

Ezra just stands inside the tent, hands on his hips. He watches me. I can see the fight leave his body as he sees that I’ve moved on. I’m taking apart my air filter, taking off my boots, digging through the ration packs. He finally relents. When we both have hot food in front of us, he breaks.

“I’m sorry too, sweet thing.” He doesn’t meet my eye. “It was not like me to have raised my voice and I apologize. You deserve better from me. I vow to give you the courtesy of my time and attention if you’ll do the same. Our partnership can only work if our communication is clear. Agreed?” He looks up. He looks scared.

My smile always seems to soften him, to give him strength. “Yes, Ez. Agreed.” I reach for him and he reaches back. We hold on. He’s all I have on this Kevva forsaken moon.

Three days before his name day, he catches me marking off the days in my notebook. The sneaky bastard wraps those big arms around me and tucks his face into my neck from behind. He loves making me laugh. He can envelop me completely, I’m so much shorter and smaller than him. It makes harvesting in small spaces that much easier for me. “What in Kevva’s name are you doin’ with that, woman?”

“Just keepin track of the cycles.” I try to be nonchalant. It doesn’t work.

He spins me, face stern and worried. “What for?”

All manner of panicked thoughts go through my mind. And his.

“Please tell me your implant’s still creamy. I have no designs on parenthood, Sweet Thing. And, no offense, but I thought we were on the same page on this.” He’s dead serious, thinking I’m tracking my menstrual cycle, worried I’m pregnant.

I laugh until I cry, until my knees give out and Ezra has to bear my weight while I cough out the real reason. “Kevva, no! I’m counting down until your name day, Ez!”

“Thank fuck!” Ezra laughs. Then he thanked me right there on the floor of the tent for good measure.

I work on his gift until the night before his name day.

On his name day, I let him sleep in and wake him up by pressing my entire body against his from behind. He’s my safe, warm place and I can feel his heartbeat against my palm where I try to press him closer to me, wrapping an arm around his broad chest. I know he’s awake when he reaches back and grabs my thigh, knowing that what I want is friction and warmth. I place a soft kiss at his hairline, the top of his spine and watch the shiver as it moves down his body.

“To what do I owe this delectable wake-up call?” He asks, turning to me. I love when he pulls me closer and tangles our legs, like aurelac veins in the soil. His voice is raspy and low, still full of sleep. I can’t help but nibble that little patch of skin on his chin where his stubble never grows in. It makes him purr like an over fed cat.

“It’s your name day.”

He sighs dramatically. “Another day older, another day wiser.” He smiles tiredly and lets me play with that curious patch of blonde hair.

“I made you something.” I can’t hide my nervous pride. He pulls away to really look at me properly.

“A gift? What’s a more precious gift than having you at my side? I want for nothing now that I have you, sweet thing.” He’s deflecting; he’s nervous too. He’s blushing.

I bring my gift from under the cot, wrapped in a foil heat blanket and tied with a length of the brown yarn I used, the last few yards left, in fact.

“I didn’t have a box.”

Ezra sits up on the cot and regards the package with a raised eyebrow. He slowly opens it, the lump of brown falling unceremoniously into his lap. He holds it up between us. I can’t see his reaction.

“You made this with your own two hands?” His voice is reverent, a near whisper.

“I hope it fits. I had to guess the size and compare it -”

He jumps off the cot and tugs it on, his broad chest disappearing behind the intricate cables and stitches, the sleeves wrapping his biceps in wool and time and patience. He looks down at himself, wearing only the sweater and his boxer briefs, then up at me, his eyes sparkling, smiling like a goon. “I think it fits perfect.” He says.

And it does.

#pedro pascal #ezra fanfiction #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #prospect movie fanfiction #Prospect movie #ezra deserves move soft!ezra

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seoracle · 4 years

Text

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame.

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real.

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back.

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist.

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that.

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face.

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.”

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy.

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.”

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!” You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain.

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager).

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind.

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea. “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo.

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu.

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed.

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face.

“Y/N?”

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever.

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.”

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect.

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat.

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long.

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her.

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.”

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.”

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.”

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop.

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

#i'm sorry in advance #however thoughts are welcomed #skz chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #skz blurbs #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan blurbs #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

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allhailthewicked · 3 years

Text

Random JATP Headcannon: Reggie Pep-Talking Julie

Disclaimer: Hey y’all there’s a lotta negative self-talk and body image stuff in this long and chonky puppy (like a dachshund). Am I just simply projecting in this headcannon? Si señores, señoras, y señoritas ...umm chile anyway so... on to the angst and fluff.

Julie is a bad bitch.

And we love that for her. But every bad bitch has a few weaknesses. Like popping balloons or falling for a ghost who died in 1995 or being afraid that you are going to lose everyone you’ve ever cared about. But there are days when Julie’s biggest weakness is her body. Then again Julie loves her body, she loves how her hair curls and how it frames her, and even though it can be a pain in the ass, she loves it. She also loves her smile and the gap between her teeth and how musical her laugh is. She loves how she can pull off a blazer and a dress and how her eyes sparkle in the sun. She loves how clear her skin is and her brows and her height and everything but some days she doesn't. But some days she looks in the mirror and cringes at what she sees.

Ha, it's funny to think that I can pull this off.

I'm too much of this and not enough that.

I don't really love how I look in this.

Maybe I should just change

These thoughts often seem to be swirling around in Julie's brain. But sadly those aren't the worse thoughts she has that award goes to thoughts like:

Luke would never fall for a lifer like you.

and

He’s way too good for you. Maybe you'll have better luck if you're prettier

Julie sighs flattening her crop top grabbing her sides before quickly opting to change into a longer looser shirt. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand shooting a text to Flynn.

Trouble #1💜: hey love! you free rn? i’m having a terrible bbd today and i need a distraction and a hug

Trouble #1💜: and maybe a good cry

Trouble #2💕: aww girlie i would love to but i’m in colorado at my aunt’s wedding reception

Trouble #1💜: oh shit. i’m sry i forgot.

Trouble #1💜: no thoughts head empty only body negativity

Trouble #1💜: how’s the wedding? did stacy cry when your aunt came down the aisle?

Trouble #2💕: don’t worry about it jules. a certain dead ghost boy has haunted your brain cells maybe you can go to him. i’m sure he’ll love the cuddles 😉😉😉

Trouble #2💕: stacy bawled btw but so did aunt hilda and dad pretended that he didn’t, but we all know he loves seeing hilda happy.

Trouble #2💕: it’s so fucking freezing. but the dress was absolutely gorgeous tho

Trouble #1💜: cuuuteee love that for them. well, i have to go guys maybe practice a song or two. but luke was kind of the one who started this. idk i’m just going to try and get through the day so i can rush back to my room and rewatch New Girl or something

Trouble #2💕: WHAT DID THAT BASTARD DO?!?!?!

Trouble #2💕: I WILL COME DOWN FROM COLORADO TO BEAT HIS ASS!!!

Trouble #1💜: He did nothing. I’m just overthinking ya know. Like I’m not worth it. He doesn’t need me. I don’t deserve him

Trouble #2💕: jules i’m going to be real with you. HONESTLY HE DOESN’T DESERVE YOU!!!! but he does look at you like you’re his source of life so don’t let this dead, paler than wonder bread boy hurt you!!! he’s so lucky to have you in his life.

Trouble #2💕: you are a gorgeous girl!!!! stunning. an absolutely beautiful, smart, and amazing person!! everybody lights up when you walk into the room. but you know who lights up the most. mr. boo-berry music man simping cute bright dead eyes looking ass.

Trouble #2💕: but maybe you should talk to alex if you don’t believe me. sadly he seems like the himbo with the most emotional knowledge. so maybe talking to him will help. but promise me you’ll take care of yourself love

Trouble #1💜: I promise. flynn imma just wear a bigger sweatshirt and pretend that i’m okay instead of feeling like I want to wrap myself in a blanket. it’ll be all good. gtg bye love you :)

Trouble #2💕 : THAT’S NOT HEALTHY!!! but please do take care of yourself. i’ll be back soon and i’ll talk to you later💕.

Julie grabs an old Orphuem hoodie that belonged to her mom, slipping it on noticing how she still hasn’t quite grown into it. Walking past her mirror one more time Julie scrunches her nose not appreciating how her tight jeans look on her. In fact, she doesn’t like how her nose looks today.

Fuck I hate when I feel like this. Maybe Flynn is right. I should probably talk to Alex and at least try to avoid Luke. He doesn’t need to see me like this.

Sighing, she makes her way over to the garage. She opens the door only to see Reggie intensely focused on playing the riff he was working on for their new song.

“Is Luke around? I need to snatch up Alex, but I don’t want him to see me and worry,” she asked, starting to giggle when he snapped out of his trace as a small yelp left his lip.

Reggie spotted Julie’s Orpheum hoodie not noticing how much his eyes widened.

Julie cocks her head at the gaping Reginald before realizing he was staring at her hoodie. “It was my mom’s,” Julie whispered as Reggie nodded along, “she used to work there in college. Mom and her best friend, my Tia Maria were waitresses there. But I’m getting distracted, is Alex here? I just really need to talk to him and his dumb emotional availability.”

“Well, it’s Alex and Willie’s 6-month anniversary, so I hope he’s not around here. But he’s like at the beach with Willie being all mushy.”

“Oh wow, they’re so cute together! He’s definitely seemed so happy since he met him,” Julie said, truly proud of her drummer but not completely masking her disappointment of not having anyone to talk to.

“Yeah, he's more free now. Plus it gives me and Luke the opportunity to rag on him on how easily he flushes when Willie teases him. But you don’t need to worry about lover boy or your lover boy,” he says while waggling his eyebrows at her.

Julie sadly laughs trying to hide her face from the boy. As Reggie seemingly oblivious continued “Luke is at his parents. He’s been going more often trying to find sneaky ways to leave his song. Some unpublished songs Julie. He has never done anything like that since you went to his parent’s house with him. The closure is cathartic for him,” he whispered, putting down his bass. “He loves seeing his mom’s face light up when she finds another song. But you seem down Julie, what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing Reggie don’t worry about it,” Reggie cocks an eyebrow at her with a concerned look on his face. Julie looked away sighing, putting on her hood before continuing on, “I’m just a little under the weather and just needed someone to talk to, but it’s fine. I’ll be fine. I will be fine in a few hours. But don’t worry, and please don’t tell Luke.”

“Well Julie you can talk to me,” Reggie pauses puts down his bass putting his hands behind his head, legs cross, frowning slightly, “Believe it or not I can be a little insightful but seriously Julie you’re like my little sister and I hate to see you like this.”

Reggie taps on the spot on the couch next to him motioning for Julie to sit down.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me anything but if you need someone to talk I here when you are ready,” And with that, Reggie picked up his bass and started to work on what seems like a new song.

Together they sit in this calming silence as Reggie starts to pluck away at this melody taking notes of what chord progressions work and what doesn’t while Julie quietly points at chords. This goes on for about five minutes until Julie finally says something.

“Fine okay you need to promise me that you won’t tell Luke because he’ll try and fix this, and he’ll probably make me feel worse,” Reggie quickly nods before putting his fist out giving her a promise fist bump. Julie wetly laughs at this before taking her hood off, running her hands through her hair.

“You know for years I’ve waked up and then immediately looked in the mirror and some days I loved what I see those days are good. I love how I look and how I feel, and I’m just happy. But some days I don’t... some days I look in the mirror and I just see every single flaw I have, and I just want to hide in my bed and not let anyone see me. Some days I feel like I don’t deserve you or Luke or Alex or Flynn or even my family. I just look into the mirror, and I’m like why would anyone stand to look at me. And you know today is one of those days. When Mami was alive she would call a day like today a BBD. It was a code for bad body day or day when we would just wear matching hoodies, cuddle, and binged movies without telling Dad what was wrong. But he understood, he understood that Mami would take care of it and that she understood what I was going through. We did it so often until she you know... that I don’t know how to tell my dad about it. Like him making me hot chocolate like he used to won’t make going away,” Julie sighed wiping the quickly forming tears from her eyes. Julie turned away from the concerned, so he couldn’t see how close she is to completely breaking down.

Reggie wrap his fettuccine arms around Julie pulling her into a warm hug that smelled like the lemon-lavender bath and body works body wash she bought him for the shower in the garage. The was comforting which led to Julie letting her guard down, shoulders shaking as she heavily sobbed into her undead friend’s shoulder as he rubbed her back. After she was seemingly cried out she looked up at Reggie, who looked wide eyed at her.

“I’m sorry I snotted all over your flannel. God that’s so disgusting. I’m just going to go to bed and just mope and watch Netflix. Thank for being a shoulder I could lean on. I’m sorry that I was just being annoying,” Julie whispered as she tried to wipe away the snot only to make a bigger mess.

"Hey hey hey it's okay Julie I can just wash it or like blame it on ghost ectoplasm. Julie do we leak ectoplasm?"

Julie laughed wetly as Reggie frantically looked to see if he was oozing before realizing that he was getting distracted. She quickly noticed the major shift in demeanor change as he seriously looked at her.

"Julie you are beautiful and I know that you don't feel like that now but you will eventually. And I know that you don't want me to fix you and I won't because I can't. And I know you might want to try to impress Luke with how you look or just think that your looks are all that Luke that think about, but I am his best friend and I know that he would be head over fucking heels gone for you. Even if you look like whatever a Jar-Jar looks like he would see you as the light of his world. He is in love with you and your soul and you deserve that love. But you deserve self love even more. Julie you are not a thing to be looked at then judged. You are a person with feelings and personality and a story, a story to tell. Your body looks the way it does because of all the things you've experienced in life. Julie I know this all may sound meaningless coming from me but you are literally one of the strongest people I know and I know you can through. You will not be less strong if you reach out for help. You might be my favorite Molina but talking to Ray is smarter than you think and he can help. I just hate seeing my sister hurt like this," Reggie said before yelping as he noticed that Julie had started to bawl again.

"Wait Julie no I'm sorry. Was that too much. God I know you said I shouldn't try to fix things. I should've kept my dumb mouth closed and not bring up Ray. I'm sorry Julie don't cry," Reggie rambled nervously rubbing her back

“No no no no Reggie you didn’t say too much. You just shocked me honestly but like in a good way. I mean I can’t say that I will believe everything you said. But thank you Reg. Thank you I am so glad that you are in my life. You’re my favorite Peters and you are much smarter than other people give you credit for,” Julie says laughing at Reggie’s bright smile.

“I mean need them to underestimate me sometimes. But let’s watch something together to at least make your BBD a little better.”

Julie smilies quickly nodding before putting on the first episode of the Mandalorian and snuggling close to the older brother that she never had.

Julie felt okay to say the least for the next couple of weeks her next BBD hit her. Julie sighed pushing herself off the bed looking in the mirror that is covered in encouraging notes from her Dad, Reggie, and Flynn. She sighed about to leave her room to go talk to her Dad again about what was going on before she notice a hoodie on the bed. It was a fleece lined hoodie that was left on her bed folded her bed saying ‘Uke I’m your father’ on it.

Reggie Julie sighed shaking her head smiling as she picked up the little note that was left with it

‘I knew that you said that you and mom had matching hoodies for your BBD’s so here’s one that we can wear together. I mean only if you want to I know it was something you and your mom did so I don’t want to butt in on a tradition. But it could be like a signal that you’re having a BBD. I don’t know it might be stupid but I hope you like it.’

Julie smiles at the slight awkwardness of the note before slipping on the hoodie

A/N: HEY IT’S ME AGAIN WITH THE ANGST FOR THE SECOND TIME IN LESS THAN A WEEK!!! Idk what it is but every time I write something for this fandom it turns into angst. Am I sadist? Ehhh wouldn’t be surprised but idk I think I went through something writing this lol. Also I’m sorry if some the dialouge is cringe I’m tired and I really wanted to post befire I got distracted. Anyway please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist down below by either replying to this post, reblogging this post, or sending me an ask! I would appreciate reblogs and feedback because I love reading your guy's comments and tags they seriously make my day!!! but it's fine if you don't want to :)

~✨My Taglist Isn’t Under the Cut Tonight Lol✨~

@poppin-peters, @sunset-bobby, @theobligatedklutz, @soupforfree, @iamthefryiestfrench-blog, @fiddlepickdouglas, @gay-ghosts-committing-crimes

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mrsbarnes107 · 4 years

Text

Secret of the Widow

-part four-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot.

Six sets of eyes darted between me and Fury. A different emotion flashing in each one. The eyes that concerned me most stared right back into mine, unblinking and silent.

"You're a Romanoff? Like- like Nats sister?" Banner barely managed to stutter it out. I knew his eyes held a deep sadness, but I didn't look away from the man that witnessed her death, the man that carries it every second of the day.

Tilting my head in the doctors direction I answer him steadily. "Romanoff. Like Natashas daughter."

The typically docile man slams his fits on the table, standing fast enough to send his chair flying into the wall. "No. Fury how dare you come in here- how dare you bring her up like this. Nat couldn't have children. Why are you really here?" The doctors voice rose with every sentence he ground out, his voice dropping an octave with each heaving breath he took. The other team members shock soon gave way to concern as they look to their green friend. Bucky and Fury both angling their bodies slightly in-front of mine.

I finally broke connection with Clint to look at Banner. "Doc you need to cool down. You might be Banner and Hulk, but don't let the rage control you."

Before Banner can reply I glance around the group and address them. "If you don't believe me, or Fury, or even Wanda.. ask Clint." My eyes find his again. "Hawky, you've been silent this whole meeting, studying me since you walked in here." I tilt my head and squint my eyes in curiosity. "You knew Nat better than anyone in the world. Do you think I'm lying?"

The room collectively held their breath. Besides Banner who was still trying to reign Hulks rage back in.

Clints pain was written across his face, yet his eyes held questions, held the hurt of not knowing this piece of Natasha. "You're not lying sweetie. The second I saw you, I thought I was looking at Natasha fifteen years ago." His breath hitched and he cleared his throat, apparently he wasn't finished. "You look so much like her, I've been trying to figure out how it was possible. Why she never told me." He shakes his head, the smallest hint of a smile gracing his lips for a moment as he huffs out a laugh. "Man, you even sound like her you know? Same fire, same wit. I see it in your eyes."

Banner has effectively calmed himself back down, having gone to retrieve his chair that he is now slumped over in.

Clint clears his throat loudly, all trace of sadness hidden for the moment. "Hm unfortunately I can also see Stark in you too. You've got his sass and wise cracking attitude it seems." He smirks as he says this, making the somber mood dissipate.

"Thankfully that's not all I got from him, also have a killer mind and good music taste if I do say so myself." Seeing Fury's nod the room chuckles a bit remembering the two Avengers they lost not too long ago.

Banner seems to have shut down, barely getting out his question. "If you're your Nats daughter, why all the secrecy about your identity?"

This prompted Sam to add on to what Banner said. "I don't understand that either. You spent years with Tony and he never said a word to anyone, he cared for you just as Fury seems to. Nat obviously knew of your existence. So why spend years working alone, knowing all of us yet never allowing us the same to you."

Fury took over from there.

"When Natasha was fifteen, she secretly gave birth to a baby girl. That little girl was left outside a hospital with only a name. At this time, Natasha wasn't on SHIELDS radar, so the baby was lost to the world." Fury sets his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, before he starts a slow walk around the room, ever the drama king.

"A few years later Natasha is pulled from the fire and becomes our top agent. We learned of the baby and spent weeks tracking her down. We found this tiny, red headed girl in the middle of nowhere Romania. I adopted her."

An authoritative glance around the room kept the occupants attention as I took sip of water, hiding the stuttering of my heart. Buckys eyes strayed to my chest for a moment, then my face. His curiosity and concern ran deep with the watery depths of his eyes. As I met his gaze all I could think of was how sad it was to have those eyes not recognize me.

I turn back to Fury as he continues, still feeling Buckys gaze.

"You see, Natasha wanted to protect her child, save her from the torment she herself was about to go through. So she gave her up. And it almost destroyed her. When Natasha came to SHIELD Ali was only five, she asked me to make sure her daughter was safe, that she was happy." He looked to me for a moment before pressing on.

"Natasha has seen the darkest parts of this world, and she didn't believe she would be a good enough mother. She didn't believe she deserved the love of her daughter. Ali met her mother only once, the moment Natasha looked into her eyes, as her baby ran forward and hugged her legs, she couldn't bare to put her in the line of danger. Natasha knew what her life had become, so she entrusted me."

Fury came over and swiped my glass, chugging my water, chuckling quietly as I roll my eyes at him. "Natasha had made a lot of enemies at that point. She wanted me to raise Ali in a safe environment, nurture her joy and her mind, and she wanted her to be trained to protect herself. Natasha oversaw everyone who had access to her: teachers, trainers, guards. She had to approve all of them. She told them what to teach her and scared them to death if they even looked at Ali wrong. Her top priority was keeping her out of the public eye and unknown to her mother's enemies and past. So she was deemed classified."

My breath hitches the tiniest bit at this. I never knew she watched over me to that extent. All these years she had been there, in the shadows of my life, the mother I always wanted and never knew I truly had, in our own little way.

I stop that dangerous line of thought before my eyes can mist over, not paying attention to the sharp eyes set upon me.

"Once Stark found out, the sneaky bastard, Natasha about strangled him to the grave. But he convinced her, he said that her daughter had the makings of greatness, but her mind needed nurtured as well as her spirit and body. He told her that Ali was combat ready, but she needed his guidance and his friendship to thrive. Natasha eventually relented. Ali was raised by two unqualified men and the ghost of her mother. Hidden away until she was old enough to fight this worlds battles."

Clints piercing gaze swept across my features then up to Fury. "Was she ever going to tell us?"

Fury looked to me, giving me a silent nod when he saw my clenched jaw and closed expression. He knew this was a touchy subject. "Natasha decided to bring Ali into the open, she wanted to introduce her to you all, to herself officially. After years of watching her train and grow, years of reading her mission logs, and then finding out about her year of taming the super soldier-" at this Fury sends me a glare, this was in fact a touchy subject for him as well. I gave him a small smile and a shrug, wanting him to continue. "-Natasha decided she was ready for the team."

He looked to Clint now. "Then the snap happened." At that everyone turned to look at you.

#avengers #avengers fic #black widow #bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #captain america #endgame #marvel #spiderman #the falcon #enemies to lovers #bucky x oc #iron man #thor #wanda maximoff #tony stark

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sammy-gvf · 4 years

Text

We get along (for the most part)

Chapter 2

OC X Lee Bodecker

———————————-

Warnings- a little angst and cursing.

Plot- The local rebel badass girl and Lee Bodecker have had run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we?

Word count : 2,705

MINORS DNI! THIS STORY WILL EVENTUALLY GET 18+. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. I DO NOT FEEL LIKE GETTING IN TROUBLE FOR YOU BEING STUPID. THANKS.

CHAPTER ONE IS PINNED ON MY PROFILE!

Sunday morning.

Slowly, I woke from my slumber hoping that I slept through church. Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps coming towards my door tells me differently. Knocking at the door, I hear a quiet voice come through the crack of my door.

“Maggy, are you up? Mamas goin have a fit if you aint up for church.”

That's my brother John, he is always there to wake me up on sundays. He enjoys going to church. I’m not really into it, i usually try to go back to sleep but my parents barely ever let me sleep through church, small town equals gossip. No matter what you do, someone is always talking about you. Sat the wrong way? Gossiped about. Sneezed during church? Gossiped about. Literally anything you do is talked about among the town residents. I was the talk of the town when I was in high school, everyone knew I was sneakin around with Arvin. No one liked it obviously, bein called every name in the book. I didn't care clearly, it didn't bother me or Arvin.

I groan and slowly get out of bed, stretching and looking out of my window. It's a beautiful sunny day in Knockemstiff, I never thought I would ever describe this run down town like that, it's quite beautiful here though. Open fields for miles, I could see why no one would want to leave. I mean in old age, you could just do anything with your land and live off it.

Getting up, I feel my feet hit the cold wood floor of my room. Everyday, I hope I don't get a splinter from the floor so I wear slippers throughout the house. I head to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. My hair is disheveled and almost out of the bun that I had it in the night before, my eyebrows are out of place and the bags underneath my eyes are prominent. I sigh and splash some cold water on my warm face. I grab my toothbrush and go for it, spitting out the toothpaste and flashing my teeth in the mirror to make sure I didn't miss a spot.

I heard my parents and brother moving around pretty quickly so I looked at the clock near my bed. It's 9:30 am, church starts in about 20 minutes and it takes 10 to get there. Quickly, I put my hair in a low bun, slapped on some powder and a plain lip color, a rose color to compliment my fair skin. Hopping around, I grab a plain flowy blue dress that goes up to about the middle of my thigh and a pair of white keds, quick and simple.

I step out of my room and grab my clutch so I have something to hold while in church, I usually can't keep my hands still. I shut the door behind me and head out to the living room to see everyone quickly eating some toast off their plates in the kitchen, I hop over and steal a piece of toast and bacon off Johns plate and then we are out the door.

Hopping in my dads truck, the ride there is quiet. We don't talk much in my family, only at dinner once and a while and sometimes when my father drinks. Which is only when he is done work on Fridays. I make sure I'm out of the house on fridays, he never stops talking when he is drinking. My parents and I have never been that close really, kind of an unspoken family thing. Mother stays quiet and does her motherly duties as us women are expected to do once we pop out a few puppies. I refuse to be like that.

The ride to church is scenic,open fields for miles and so many animals to look at. I enjoy the breeze coming through my hair but I just wish it was from me driving my car out somewhere I have never been. Like maybe California, it's probably beautiful. I have never been to a beach, as a matter of fact I've never been out of Knockemstiff before. I envy everyone who leaves this place and never comes back. As soon as I can get out of here, I will. I swear on everything I love.

The car stops and I get out, my feet hitting the dirt road below me. My keds are gonna need a cleaning after this. Stepping around the car, I separate from my family and hop around the back of the church to smoke a quick cig before I go through the church doors to act like I'm holy for 2 hours.

Stepping to the left side of the church, I put my clutch on a bush and grabbed a cigarette from the pack stuffed in my bag. Quickly I light it and suck on it as quickly as I possibly can to just get a moment to myself. Looking out into the distance, I always forget that the cemetery is this close to the church. Graves for as far as the eyes can see. That distracted me to the point where I forgot how quick I was smoking and ended up inhaling too much smoke at one time, leading me to cough quite loud. I throw the cigarette on the floor below my foot and crush it quickly.

I hear an oh so familiar voice in the distance as I finish my coughing fit.

“ Ms. Lane, what a pleasure to see you on this fine sunday.” He says, walking towards me with his fingers hooked around the belt loops of his pants.

Same uniform everyday, never fails.

“Say, what are you doin here behind the church all by your lonesome? “ Lee says as he stands next to me, I can smell the tobacco and mint on him the same as I did last night. I look over at Lee with an exhausted look on my face from the coughing fit I just had.

Lee looks down at the ground and a grin forms on his face, sneaky bastard never misses a beat.

“Ms.Lane-” Lee begins to say and I stop him

“Please, for the love of christ call me Maggy. I am not 16 anymore, Lee.” You say as you start to walk past him. He grabs your arm and stops you.

“Maggy Lane, just know I know about your little reputation.” Lee says as he still has you by the arm, kind of digging his nails into your soft skin as you try to pull away a bit.

“As a matter of fact, I was there when you began your little shenanigans. Be careful of how you talk to your sheriff, little lady.” You look at him in disgust as he tries to intimidate you.

“ Also, I told you those cigarettes was bad news, you're lucky I don't stop on over and talk to your pop about your little habit.” Lee says with a smirk on his face. You finally wiggle out of his grip, your arm dropping to your side with crescent shaped marks on your arm. You rub the spots where Lee's fingers were just digging into your upper arm.

Looking up at him, he tips his hat at you and starts to walk away. You spit on the ground near his feet and he turns around on his feet, quick.

“ I hope you know you're a prick, Bodecker.” You spit out at him.

Immediately, you are backed up against the wood boards of the church, both of Lee's arms on either side of your head. Your heart is racing and your breath is hitching. You're frozen.

“Listen to me, you little bitch.” Lee inches closer to your face, your noses almost touching. You turn your head to the side hoping that he won't really notice but he grabs your face and holds it so you are looking him directly in the eyes.

“Your little mouth will get you in trouble, especially with me.” Your breath hitches as he gets closer. Your heart could explode. You were terrified.

“ Lee, church is starting. We better get in there before we miss anything” A voice in the distance yells.

Instantly, Lee lets you go and strides back to the unknown voice.

You stand there with a shocked look on your face, as if you had just seen the devil up close. You were frozen in your current position but as soon as people started going in the building you sank to your feet and sat there for a minute breathing heavily. You fixed yourself up and stood outside the door of the old church, taking a deep breath before going in and finding your seat next to your family.

Church dragged on and on, I felt like I was going to fall asleep. A screaming preacher, so many people in such a small space. Half way through, I got up to go to the bathroom and caught Lee staring at me and he gave me a small smirk. Creep.

Stepping into the bathroom, I look at my face in the mirror. It's still slightly red from where Lee had his disgusting hand around my chin. I pushed on the spot and it felt like it was going to bruise.

“ Fuck” I whispered to myself as I turned my head side to side to look at the red around my lips and on my chin. This is for sure going to bruise.

I splash some water on my face to refresh myself and then I step out of the bathroom to bump into something in front of me.

“Shit, I am so sorry” You say as you back up into the oak door and look at the person in front of you.

“ Oh, no worries hun.” the woman in front of you says.

You look at her quickly as you step aside, sticking out your hand and you say “I don't think I have met you before, I’m Maggy Lane.”

She sticks out her hand and shakes yours firmly, she is a very pretty woman with short brown curly hair.

Thin and very well put together, can't be more than 25 years old.

“ It’s very nice to meet you sweetheart, I’m Ruth Har- I mean Bodecker.” She says smiling as she pulls her hand back from the handshake and puts it back on her clutch bag.

“You the sheriff's wife?” you say as you cock your head to the side questioningly.

“Yes, I am.” she smiles, “ We've been married now for about a year, a very fine man he is.” She says as she steps aside to talk to you for a minute before she steps into the bathroom.

You were shocked, Lee actually was married? He was such an asshole, you didn't think anyone would want him. As you had said the previous night, you would tell his wife if he had called you another pet name but she looks so sweet. He doesn't deserve her. You had just said that assumin he even had a woman at home.

“ Thats nice, say you ain't from around here, are ya?” You say in a little southern drawl, she aint from these parts. You can tell by the way she says certain words.

“ No darlin, i'm from Tennessee.” she smiled “Met Lee out there while I was workin in a bar.” she blushed a bit.

“ Huh, well look at that.” you say as you cross your arms and lean against the doorframe of the bathroom. “ Lee does get out of town then.”

She chuckles and you look at the time, church is going to be over soon.

“ Well, it was very nice meeting you, Mrs.Bodecker.” You say as you turn your back and start walking towards the stairs to go back to the chapel area.

“ You too, darlin.” She says waving at you.

“ See you around” You say as you head back up the stairs.

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

Chapter 2 already? I’m crankin shit out lol

Hope yous like it so far! Dont forget to leave opinons/replys and as always dont forget to like/reblog!

tag list : @ladyfallonavenger

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#sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #chapter #the devil all the time #sebastian stan #tdatt fic #tdatt fanfiction #ongoing fic

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monomas-a-smug-bih · 4 years

Text

villain!deku corrupts hero!reader ask

Okay it’s like villain deku x hero reader and their dating but he’s trying to corrupt her and there on the field fighting and to finally get her to switch he hurts himself bad but made it look like it was a hero idk all might or something and she goes to him to see if he’s okay and they snap and turn on them (and like reader had a really powerful quirk idk like scarlet which) and takes them all out and leaves with the league

Oooooh juicy

...

Just a few hours ago, you were inside your calm and comfortable home, giving IZUKU a peck on the cheek with his arms wound around your waist from behind you, a curly head of hair digging into your shoulder.

You really did wonder if someone so sweet and caring on the inside could really truly be a criminal.

Sure, looking at it from a career standpoint, any kind of involvement with the wrong things, and one is automatically deemed evil. They don’t get to choose to pay attention to the motivations behind wrong actions or false front a villain may put on. It was a part of the many parts you hated about your job. Like every other system, the hero world had its holes, it’s flaws. And because of that, someone like Izuku would be waved off as easily as any other victim to criminality.

Then again, isn’t that what he deserved?

As you heard Izuku let out a troubled sigh, as he placed a light kiss on your shoulder, you weren’t sure, not sure at all.

Izuku wasn’t evil at heart, you knew that. Though, as ridiculous as that may sound with the amount the boy has done... he was just that, a boy. A boy who couldn’t be saved. There was plenty of them, abandoned by their heroes, you knew that; maybe that’s why you were so damn uncertain all the time.

Just a few hours ago, you were inside your calm and comfortable home, giving Izuku a peck on the cheek with his arms wound around your waist from behind you, a curly head of hair digging into your shoulder.

And now he was on the ground, bloodied and hurt. Your heart couldn’t help but stop.

By the strong punch of his own idol, All Might, who had given up on him all those years ago, Izuku was flung towards a wall, and within seconds the boy crumpled to the ground.

By the look on even All Might’s face you were sure Izuku should’ve been able to dodge that, with all his swiftness from earlier, you wondered where it all went. After a few minutes, Izuku worryingly immobile, you felt the atmosphere drop among the heroes. All Might, sensing this battle was over, turned to leave, also leaving us with Izuku to promptly shackle up. Which, you had no intention of doing.

Actually, you weren’t sure what to do. Izuku was always better than this, if on the odd chance you did end up running into him on a mission, he was always sneaky enough to wriggle his way out of the situation before things got deadly. And now he was a ball on the floor, what the hell were you supposed to do now?

Rationality was hard to hold onto in a situation like this. You thought you’d finally gotten a grip as your love got up off the ground, but you were wrong...oh so wrong. Before he made it passed his knees a hero loomed over him, kicking him to the ground and planting him there with an condescending foot on his back, mossy hair sweeping the dirt once again. Once he hit the ground a second time, you snapped.

You were sick of this. All you saw was red, and it was getting difficult to keep from losing control.

You marched over to the two boys, a frustrating foot still pressing into the center of your lovers back. You tried your best to ignore the triumphant look on your younger colleague’s face while you snapped, hoping to startle him.

“Get off of him! That’s enough!”

He wasn’t shaken, but foolish instead.

“Enough? You sure?” He taunted. The grin growing across his face sickened you, another stomp landing on the Izuku’s helpless spine.

You felt yourself fuming, eyes burning with rage as he went on with a chuckle, so obliviously, so carelessly. “Do you have any idea who we’re dealing with? How hard this guy was to-” The look on the hero’s face seemed to get more irritating by the second, and the grinding of his heel made your heart quicken. You felt your hair begin to lift from your shoulders, your whole being surging with suppressed power and anger.

You’d had enough.

With a swift raise of your fist, the boy stumbled back in surprise. He whined and his hands flew to the blood forming under his nose. The action got your blood pumping, and you let out a grateful breath that you could finally wipe that grin off his face. You hated how good it had felt, and loomed over him like he had Izuku, the boy beneath you now a frightened and confused soul. Your other colleagues gasped behind you, questioning your actions.

“L-look out!” Turning to your right, you see Izuku had finally gotten up, rolling and cracking his shoulders with that dazzling smile. Cheeky bastard, he had me worried. Your relief was evident on your face, to the confusion of your colleagues. Though his snarky attitude was defused quickly, the air being stolen from his lungs.

“Ugh-” His emerald eyes and freckled cheeks disappeared under curly hair, ribs aching from an earlier punch. With a wheezing cough, the boy fell forward. You caught him of course, rubbing his back as he coughed some more.

You were glad he was alright, though it’d clicked a little earlier this wasn’t totally an accident on his part. What was the point of this mess? What the hell were you supposed to do now?

When the other boy before you rose again, blood wiped from his nose across his face, it became pretty clear. Your stomach burned with the urge to hit him again, as much as you hated it, craving violence, you hated this fool a lot more.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing y/n?” His words were slurred from your punch, for some reason you were glad. A scarlet aura returned to your form, a hard boot stomping the earth beneath it to pieces easily. Instead of getting him to back off, he only persisted. “How stupid are you?” For what you were thinking of doing right now, you’d have to agree with him.

The only option you could see was fighting, making a run for it, or both. There was no win-win scenario, either you stayed with the boy you loved, the boy leaning into you, or you handed him over, and stayed with your colleagues instead.

You refused the latter, and thought on your first option. Voices around you sunk into you head like the unpleasant squawks of crows.

“Y/n...”

“Who’s side are you on?”

“Yeah! Let’s take him back already.”

“Hurry it up y/n!”

“I’m not sure she’s even listening.”

“Y/n-”

You couldn’t take it anymore. the questions bombarding you. You just wanted to leave, run away. But logic told you otherwise, or at least, what you had to do first.

You placed your beloved to lean against a wall, sharp green eyes tracing you in anticipation. You left a peck on his forehead and muttered, “You suck.”

Disbelief hit your colleagues’ faces, though some among them were friends, you’d never been as close to someone as you had Izuku, ruling them out was never a decision you wanted to make. With a quiet apology only meant for some of the group, you blocked out the swearing of the boy from earlier, the panic of your teammates, and rose your magenta glowing palms.

It had been an easy fight, only a couple of pros and mostly rookies were in your group for the patrol today. Those who charged at you were shoved away by your power, those who didn’t simply stayed back. Your energy was gone, the adrenaline flooding from your system. As a result your hands landed on your knees, your breaths longer as you panted.

A wolf-whistle reaches your ears.

You looked to Izuku, standing idly in the alleyway, he seemed impressed. Though the thought of this situation stressed you to no end, the smile on his face seemed to calm you in a way.

“I knew how bad you wanted to punch that guy,” Izuku stated, like he’d been hoping all along he was right. It’s true you’d been ranting to him about work, mostly workers, so you weren’t that surprised he picked him out among your group as the culprit of your stress over this week. “It feels good doesn’t it?” You couldn’t disagree, it had honestly felt plenty nice. The green-eyed boy came closer, placing his hands your your cheeks, and that felt plenty nice too. You’d never realized how easy it was to break rules, being constructed to them your entire life, those around you afraid of your quirk were strict with you.

A change like this might be what you needed, yet as you should’ve been, you still had your worries. You stared deeply into emerald eyes.

“Where will I go?” The smile on his face made his freckles bounce, you couldn’t help but soften at his touch.

“With me.” His voice was soft too, and you leaned into him; partially due to exhaustion, partially to the need for comfort. Clinging to him, you sighed heavily, and enjoyed his curls tickling the back of your neck. Izuku planted a kiss onto your head. He was warm, and it made you forget that the people you’d been working with minutes ago were on the ground unconscious and battered. He continued,

“You can stay with us.”

...

anotha one~

#bnha #boku no hero academia #villain deku #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #villain izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya bnha #my hero academia #bnha scenario #imagine #deku

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doubleoh7q · 4 years

Text

Tables, Walthers, and Rodents

(1024 words, no warnings)

Q would challenge anyone who thought James Bond was the bravest man alive to see him now.

He’d come home from work to find his husband on their dining room table. Not at the table but standing on it and frantically looking for something on the floor.

“James, honey. Are you alright?” Maybe this was one of those breakdowns that medical said agents were prone too once they’d reached their limit.

“Q! Get up here!”

To Q’s credit he hadn’t laughed yet, and he managed to get on the table rather gracefully. By which rather gracefully means he only wobbled a little as opposed to falling flat on his face trying to balance on the turning stool. Once he was up, his husband immediately grasped his hand and Q felt himself looking around the floor of their house as well, though he had no idea what for.

“James?” Q said softly, not wanting James to snap completely if this was indeed a breakdown. “What are we looking for?”

James barely glanced at him before going back to look at the floor as he answered. “There’s a mouse.”

“A mouse?” Q parroted. This could still be a breakdown, he’s a double-oh agent, surely he is not afraid of a tiny mouse.

“Yes, a mouse. With the beady eyes and the spindly tail and the gross germs and the cheese.” James shuddered as he mentioned the tails.

“Right, and we have a better view from the table to find him, I suppose?” That would make some sense, Q thought. Though he still wasn’t sure the mouse would stay in this room if it thought they were a danger to it.

“Yes, it can’t get us up here.” James answered. Confirming that he was apparently concerned that the mouse itself was a danger to the two of them.

“James,” Q started slowly, he didn’t want to embarrass his husband, but he really did need to ask. “Are you afraid of mice?”

“Of course I am! Sneaky little bastards, hiding in walls, eating our foods. Probably terrorising the cats.”

He rants on for a while longer, leaving Q to wonder where exactly the cats were. He would have thought at least one of them would have come in to see what all the commotion was.

“James,” He says, interrupting the still ranting agent beside him. “I’m going to go find the cats.”

“You can’t go down there!” James whisper shouts back. Sounding unsuitably horrified by the very idea.

“I can and I will.” Q asserts. He does not often get a chance to be one leaving someone else in the ‘safe spot’. “You stay up here. I’ll sort the mouse.”

“Fine,” James relented, realising they couldn’t stay on the table forever. “But take this.” He said, handing Q the Walther he had in his shoulder holster. “Just in case.”

Q takes the gun, more because he was expected to than out of any delusion he would need it. Once the weight of it was settled in his hand he wondered if his husband actually expected him to shoot the mouse on sight. More importantly if James thought he would risk putting a bullet hole in their new flooring.

“I’ll come back.” Q assured before leaving his husband standing on the dining table so he could find his cats.

First though, Q headed to their bedroom and emptied out a shoe box, on the off chance that he wasn’t, as James thought, going to shoot the mouse. Then he ventured off into the living room, no cats or mice in sight, though he noted that James had, once again, three separate cups of tea on the go. No doubt James had forgotten about them the moment a little mouse had scampered across his vision.

Eventually, Q could hear a soft meowing coming from the study. Moving closer he started to feel the anticipation of finding the object of his husbands fears. Though what he actually found was both his cats meowing and hissing and scratching at the windowsill where the mouse was very calmly sat nibbling on half a biscuit.

The cats knew they weren’t supposed to sit on that particular windowsill because James kept a little collection of souvenirs on it. Apparently, that had overridden their want to get the mouse. And the mouse had worked out they wouldn’t reach him and was rather content to eat his spoils while the cats watched on.

“Alright, alright, let me through.” Q said gently nudging the cats aside to move his shoebox to just under the sill. He pushed the biscuit into the box using the lid and when the mouse followed his dinner in, Q gently placed the lid over him. “Hardly worth all that fuss, was it?”

The cats followed him back into the kitchen where he convinced his husband that it was safe to come down from the table.

“You’re sure it can’t get out?” Bond checks, warily eyeing them shoe box that housed the beady eyed, spindly tailed, germ filled, cheese eating rodent.

“Very sure, I’m going to go outside and take care of this and you take the Walther, put it in the safe and have one of the three teas I saw in the living room.

Q eventually reappeared after releasing the mouse into the house next door - Q would swear up and down that man deserved a rodent infestation after kicking Q’s cat when it was exploring the neighborhood their first week. And when he found his husband in the living room he saw that James had made a fourth cup of tea and they both made an unspoken agreement that no one would ever find out the great James Bond was afraid of mice.

Except maybe Moneypenny. And Tanner. And anyone else Q could get his hands on because the whole notion that a man could jump off planes without a parachute, fight on top of a moving train, diffuse bombs with seconds to spare and risk his life daily at work only to come home and be petrified of an itty bitty mouse was just too good not to share.

#james bond #quartermaster #00q #fic #doubleoh7q writes #mine

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trensu · 4 years

Text

Episode 43: The One where WWX is Soft for Children and Bunnies

we're still in the forbidden chamber

wwx has his detective cap on and is being clever

the lan bros are listening attentively as they should be

wwx: jgy is a sneaky conniving bastard blah blah he vandalizes evil music books blah blah

lots of boring plot talk basically

i'm sitting here like, *sigh* so pretty wwx so pretty

which is what i imagine lwj does all the time...

lol wwx goes to lxc and is like, no offense bro but jgy was a skilled spy during the war who was able to infiltrate and memorize wen ruohan's stuff in their secret chamber. invading this one would've been a piece of cake for him

and lxc is like well damn, guess i better test out all this evil music and see if it actually works

lxc: i'll just test the evil magic music on myself. yep. that way no one gets hurt and that couldn't possibly backfire on me at all

lwj: bro

lxc: bro. i gotta do this bro to clear my bae’s i mean friend's name

LOL lxc is like you all see jgy this way but i see him in a totally different way

YEAH WE KNOW, THAT'S THE PROBLEM

LOLOLOL OMG

lxc turns to gaze off into the middle distance and is like, the jgy in my heart is kind and benevolent blah blah

and behind him wwx crosses his arms and all but rolls his eyes LIKE DUDE YOU'RE COMING TO THE WRONG PERSON FOR SYMPATHY. I'M THE ONE THAT GOT KILLED FOR THINGS YOUR BF DID

oh this moment's interesting

lxc is like, can't you allow me to be cautious about making this decision?

and lwj takes a step towards him, ready to speak but wwx grabs his upper arm and stops him with a shake of his head

the look lwj gives him just before that was like why are you stopping me?

but wwx knows this isn't something you can push

lwj trusts wwx's judgment and holds back whatever he was going to say

i'm curious as to what he WAS going to tell his brother tho

now lwj is leaving to talk to their uncle and lxc is like, sure i'll take your soulmate back to your room for you

WE'RE GONNA GET SOME BABY!LWJ FLASHBACKS SOON OMG

IT'S GONNA HURT

wwx: since lan zhan isn't here, i wanna ask you about something

lxc: tell me

wwx: what are the whipping scars on lan zhan?

lxc: you don't know?

AND THEIR SONG STARTS PLAYING

wwx: i asked him but he didn't wanna say, so i'm asking you

lxc: yeah, if he doesn't think it's necessary he'll probably never talk about it so i'll tell you instead of respecting my little brother's decisions about his personal life

AND OKAY I'M GLAD HE DID BC IT GIVES US WANGXIAN MOMENTS BUT STILL!!

lxc: do you remember that one time when wn shot and killed your sister's husband?

on the one hand, HOW COULD HE FORGET but on the other hand, he forgets quite a lot of things actually...

lxc: after wq and the others turned themselves in...*cue flashback*

we're at the burial mounds, lwj is standing by himself before wwx's cave facing down a whole freaking squadron of cultivators

su she: *runs his mouth as if we actually care what he has to say*

lwj: *completely unfazed and expressionless* you are not qualified to speak to me

HELL FUCKING YEAH

WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW EPIC THIS MOMENT IS

LOOK AT LWJ OWN THAT ICE PRINCE PERSONA TO STRIKE DOWN AN IMPUDENT ANT OF A PERSON

su she goes to draw his sword AS IF HE HAS ANY REAL CHANCE OF DEFEATING HANGUANG JUN IN A SWORD FIGHT

but jgy shows up with even MORE cultivators and then does that thing where he compliments the person inconveniencing him and takes control of the situation

jgy: oh hanguang jun is so honorable let's not search wwx's secret cave lab right now

BUT THE GREAT THING IS THAT LWJ DOESN'T EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE HIS PRESENCE

HE DOESN'T LOOK AT HIM OR SU SHE AT ALL

bc lwj is forever Better Than You.

fuck jgy

jgy: even if wwx is alive, the burial mounds is surrounded so there's no way he could come here without us noticing

he says this to lwj all mildly BUT YOU KNOW IT'S A THREAT

He bows (lwj STILL doesn't acknowledge him and it's GREAT) and walks away

then pauses (bc Drama) and is like oh, almost forgot, your uncle is waiting for you at the cloud recesses. And then he just leaves with all his cultivators

this is when lwj finally looks at jgy (or his back, at least since jgy is leaving)

We cut to the next scene that has lwj slamming the point of bichen in the the stone ground, arm bleeding

HE IS VISIBLY SWEATING AND TREMBLING

lxc: lwj made a mess and fought against everyone there

AND WE SEE LWJ FALL TO HIS KNEE, ONE ARM USING BICHEN AS SUPPORT WHILE THE OTHER RESTS ON THE GROUND

but the fall was gradual and jerky, like he was fighting it the whole way down.

As if the only reason he fell is bc he's used up every ounce his strength and energy he had in his body

lxc: uncle burst into anger and took him back home, punishing him with 300 lashes and repenting in the cold pond cave for 3 years

we cut to the cloud recesses, camera shot from above making lwj, who is kneeling before his uncle and surrounded by disciples, look small AS ~THEIR SONG~ STARTS PLAYING ON THE CELLO

his uncle orders them to start beating lwj

AND LWJ TAKES IT LIKE A CHAMP

he barely moves with each strike and MAN THAT DISCIPLE IS NOT HOLDING BACK

oooh, we see him do that fist clench thing which looks even more painful without bichen to grip tbh

dude lwj is clenching his jaw so hard.

like, he refuses to cry out in pain and it's gotta hurt bc he's bleeding already

lqr: what is rule 52 of the lan clan?

lwj: do not befriend evil

NO HESITATION. SAID IN A STRONG FIRM VOICE

AS IF HE WASN'T CURRENTLY GETTING BEATEN WITH A NIGHTMARE STICK

and lqr is all you have forgotten the fundamental laws of our clan, how can you have the nerve to face your ancestors like this!!

BUT LWJ IS NOT HAVING THAT

HE'LL TAKE THE BEATING BUT HE'S GOING TO MAKE HIS POINT

lwj: i dare ask you, grandmaster, who is right? who is wrong? what is black? what is white?

Bc our boy has learned! He’s learned NUANCE and CRITICAL THINKING and the existence of GRAY AREAS

BC WTF IS THE POINT OF ALL OF THESE STUPID RULES IF THEY DON'T PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND DEFENSELESS?

Bc his soulmate was right all along and he didn’t stand by him when he needed him most and now his soulmate is gone. His soulmate is gone. He’s GONE.

I'M GONNA MAKE MYSELF CRY

lqr: perfect! that's my good student

he does not say this happily. he is in fact SHOUTING this VERY ANGRILY

and here i wanna say, hey lqr, what's that rule about excessive noise...?

cue lwj's fist clench again, which sounds just as painful as the beating tbh

lqr: wangji, you have disappointed me

NOT AS MUCH AS YOU AND YOUR DAMN RULE-BOOK HAVE DISAPPOINTED HIM, YOU JERK

and here we see an ACTUAL VISIBLE SCOWL on our beautiful hanguang jun's face as he continues to be beaten

HOW ANGRY AND TORN UP MUST HE BE TO ACTUALLY SCOWL LIKE THAT??

cut to lwj kneeling at the ice table thing in the cold pond cave, robed in white and face blank but somehow still projecting an aura of cold fury

probably bc the rulebook open in front of him says "eradicate evil, establish laws, and goodness will be everlasting" and he knows that’s bullshit now

but actually this scene is visually very beautiful.

It’s all in misty shades of pale cold blue and white and everything’s spaced out in a way to emphasize how very very alone lwj is

cut back to the present with wwx and lxc

wwx grips his flute with both hands and looks down like he can't believe what he's hearing

lxc: when lwj was imprisoned i tried to persuade him...but he told me he considered you his confidant soulmate and believed in your integrity

wwx: why would he bother…?

his brow is furrowed and his voice is soft like he truly doesn't seem to understand why lwj would bother to do all that

and on the one hand i wanna scream IT'S BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU, YOU MORON

but on the other hand, everybody else in wwx's life, everyone else he loved, turned on him or died

and he probably truly believes he deserved all that, and that he is undeserving of lwj's unwavering faith

and then i cry

lxc: do you know what this place is?

shot of the entrance to the silence room aka the jingshi aka lwj's room

wwx: i don't

lxc: it's where our mother lived

wwx is hanging off his every word

lxc: you might find it strange that the wife of the clan leader didn't live with her husband in the frigid chamber

with a name like that i wouldn't want to live there either...

lxc: you might know that our father used to isolate himself for years, not caring about anything...

Not even his sons, apparently!

wwx: i do

and he explains that his father isolated himself bc of his mother or whatever

lxc: this place was more of a prison than a home

It was his mother’s prison. When did he figure that out? Was it when HE WAS STILL A KID??

DID HE FEEL GUILTY FOR SPENDING TIME WITH HIS MOTHER KNOWING SHE WAS LOCKED UP AGAINST HER WILL??

THE LAN FAM IS SO FUCKED UP OMG

now he's telling us the whole tragic love story

it was love at first sight, he says and wwx is like ah yes, a typical romance

and lxc is like, uh no, she didn't love him back and she murdered his teacher, idk why tho

lxc: but i guess it's all about right and wrong, love and hate

Which is a major theme of the whole show, tbh

OH DAMN

now he's telling wwx about how his dad took his mom to cloud recesses and married her against the clan's approval and that he told them that this was the person he would love for a lifetime, that “whoever tried to drive her out would have to go through him first"

DOES ANY OF THIS SOUND FAMILIAR TO YOU, WWX?

RINGING ANY (WEDDING) BELLS?

DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF ANYTHING AT ALL, WWX?

"after the wedding my father built this house, and locked my mother up"

lxc says this all so calmly and gently, as if he were reading from a story book rather than reciting his immediate family's history

Which is probably a coping mechanism, tbh

this fam is so fucked up, have i mentioned?

lxc: do you understand why my father did all this?

wwx: *nod*

lxc: and do you think he did the right thing?

wwx: i don't know

well, i mean, he married her and locked her up against her will

granted she did murder someone but i get the feeling she probably had good reason to

and now he's telling wwx that they basically had no parents bc they were given off to others to raise them until they were old enough to attend their uncle's lessons

FLASHBACK TO BABY!LWJ READING TO HIS MAMA FROM A LAN CLAN BOOK

HE'S SO CUTE AND TINY AND HIS MAMA IS SO SOFT AND PRETTY.

SHE LOOKS AT HIM WITH SUCH LOVE, AND RUNS HER HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR SO GENTLY

lxc makes a point here to say that their mother never complained about her imprisonment or how painful it must've been to be trapped like that

BC THEIR MAMA LOVED THEM

lxc: lwj never said anything, but i knew he looked forward to the day we visited mother every month

HOW AWFUL IS THAT, TO BE RESTRICTED TO ONE DAY A MONTH TO SPEND WITH SOMEONE YOU LOVE???

Lxc: he did (look forward to seeing mom). and so did i.

cut to baby lwj kneeling in the snow, all little and by himself IN FRONT OF THE JINGSHI, AKA HIS MOM’S PRISON AKA PROBABLY HIS FAVORITE PLACE IN ALL THE CLOUD RECESSES

lxc: one day, uncle told us that we didn't need to go there anymore. mother had gone.

I'M GONNA CRY

HE'S SO LITTLE AND SAD AND HE'S KNEELING SO STILL WITH HIS TINY HANDS IN HIS LAP

like even lqr is moved bc he goes and puts a hand on his shoulder

lxc: we were too young to understand what that meant.

lxc: no matter how others consoled us or how uncle scolded him, lwj still came here every month. he would sit on that porch and wait for someone to open the door.

I'M SOBBING

LWJ HAS SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE WAITING FOR THE PEOPLE HE LOVES

He’s kept himself still and stalwart ever since he was a kid so that if his loved one chose to come back, he’d still be there for them

I'M HURTING SO MUCH

HE JUST WANTED THEM TO COME BACK AND THINK HE WAS WORTH STAYING FOR.

GOD I HATE CRYING. I'M A SNOTTY MESS RN

Lxc: when we got older we realized that she would never come back. that no one would ever open the door for him. but he still came.

FUCK

GOD DAMN IT

STOP HURTING ME SO MUCH, WHAT THE HELL

lxc: lwj has always been stubborn since he was very young

lxc: back then, he watched you learn crafty tricks. he didn't say anything, but i knew...that the pain and confusion in his heart was the same as what he felt for our mother

MY GOD, JUST BEAT ME WITH THOSE NIGHTMARE STICKS INSTEAD. THAT WOULD HURT LESS THAN THIS.

wwx's eyes are all red-rimmed and his brow is all pinches and HE JUST SWALLOWED BACK THE LUMP IN HIS THROAT

THE SAME ONE I HAVE RIGHT NOW AS I CRY AND CRY AND CRY

and lxc is like, well, that's enough intense conversation for now, imma do a flute solo

~flute sounds~

and now he's like i tried to persuade lwj before but now that i'm in his shoes it turns out making a decision isn't actually easy to do?? who'd have thought?

oh here comes lwj, all straight-backed and regal as always but no jewelry in his hair! no topknot! he looks so different this way

AND HE HAS TWO JARS OF EMPEROR'S SMILE WITH HIM

AND ~THEIR SONG~ IS PLAYING AGAIN

oh, the way he holds it out to wwx, like an offering at an altar...

cut to inside the jingshi, we get to see him uncap one of the jars and pour a drink out for his soulmate.

like, the camera is specifically focused on his hands

which, hey, i’ve seen the tags ppl, i know some of you are Into That so take the time to enjoy this

then we get a shot of all of him and he looks so so soft and exposed and vulnerable here?? with his hair down in his own room, pouring a drink for his wei ying

it's beautiful

wwx walks in and watches as lwj starts to pour himself a cup of tea

THIS IS A LOT.

~Their Song~ playing sweetly, no other sounds except the quiet clinks of the cups and teapot. And all of lwj’s actions are just...light

wwx: lan zhan…

GOD I JUST WANT TO SCREENCAP THIS WHOLE SCENE

the shot of lwj here, while he’s focused on pouring his tea.

the way his head is angled and the wisps of his hair frame his face.

he takes up a good portion of the screen without seeming domineering or forceful, just...peacefully existing in the space

and then we cut back to wwx's face, his mouth open as he takes a breath

He wants to say something, anything, but you can see on his face that he can't make the words come

Like he doesn’t want to disturb the moment with whatever he was going to say, bc it’s a fragile moment

and then this brief literally-2-seconds shot of lwj to the right, sitting at the table

the table is set up so beautifully with the jars of emperor's smile and their cups. and he's looking up and the lighting AND AHHHHHH

IT'S JUST A VERY BEAUTIFUL TWO SECONDS AND I'VE STARED AT IT FOR MUCH TOO LONG ALREADY

lwj: what?

and wwx can't even really return his gaze. he looks just as vulnerable here but, unlike lwj, he also looks awkward, like he’s nervous in his vulnerability same ,wwx, same

wwx tries to say thank you but it comes out stuttered and soft while lwj watches him patiently

wwx mumbles to himself "it's awkward to say it out loud" and his eyes flicker back and forth for a second as his mouth pinches, agitated

BC IT IS MEGA AWKWARD

FEELINGS ARE AWKWARD

AND AS LOUD AND OBNOXIOUS WWX CAN BE, IT'S NEVER ABOUT HIS FEELINGS.

wwx: *clears throat* i mean...the burden on your brother's shoulders is tremendous

smooth transition, wwx, very smooth

but at least it allowed him the chance to sit at the table with lwj

wwx: after all, jgy is his sworn brother. if i were him...

he trails off awkwardly and it feels even MORE awkward bc the background music just ends suddenly and it's silent for us, the audience

lwj doesn't say anything and instead gently moves the cup of wine towards wwx.

once that's done he says "if there's evidence, my brother won't tolerate it."

but he doesn't look at wwx and his face is somber

wwx: that's true. he's got his principles

finally lwj looks at him

lwj: you didn't tell him.

wwx: tell him what?

lwj: about the flute on qiongqi way

wwx: you know about that?

lwj: i asked wen ning. he said he heard a second flute

wwx: i thought i was hearing things until nightless city *insert flashback here*

cut to next scene. wwx is standing just outside the jingshi doors with a jar in his hand as it snows

lwj steps up next to him and ~THEIR SONG~ STARTS PLAYING

they're still talking about the flute and how wwx is confident now that there was a second one used to frame him basically. he's quietly angry here.

lwj immediately says it was jgy but wwx responds with "maybe, maybe not"

lwj looks at him, "you don't want to know the answer?"

bc lwj does. he wants to know who framed his soulmate, causing the suffering that lead to his death

wwx: at first i really wanted to but now i just want to say, 'whatever. screw it!'

he says with a laugh and then takes a swig from his wine jar

wwx put down that wine jar, you've obviously had too much already.

wwx: lan zhan, i actually think whether i know the answer or not won't be of much importance for me. after all, in ppl's minds, the yiling patriarch did bad things. even if i expressed my grievances, people still won't trust me

and he smiles

MY POOR SUNSHINE BOY

He says, "Sometimes the world only needs an excuse or target that everyone can hate"

PAINFULLY TRUE

and then he says something along the lines that it doesn't matter, if he wasn't made the target, someone else would have been

BASICALLY HE'S JUST VERY DISILLUSIONED HERE

THE WORLD SHOULD FEEL ASHAMED FOR DISAPPOINTING HIM

now we hear the sound of a guqin playing ~Their Song~

lwj at his guqin playing their song to soothe his soulmate

wwx: *voiceover* i was lonely back then. the few who believed in me were dead, wen ning, jyl. Luckily…

and here we get the crescendo of the opening theme as we cut to lwj.

the voiceover changes from wwx to lwj

lwj: in this world, there is still someone who trust you

I'M HAVING A LOT OF FEELINGS RIGHT NOW

voiceover switches back to wwx and we get a shot of wwx watching lwj play

wwx: lan zhan, i toast to you. i'm glad to have one true friend

SO MANY FEELINGS

and then i get distracted as wwx does that thing where he pours wine into his mouth and spills half of it down his VERY INDECENTLY EXPOSED THROAT

shot of lwj thinking: for nothing else but a clean conscience

shot of wwx thinking: no matter how they slander me, i know i have a clean conscience

EVEN THEIR THOUGHTS ARE IN SYNC OMG

AND ~THEIR SONG~ IS STILL PLAYING BUT NOW IT'S THE GUQIN AND THE FLUTE COMING TOGETHER

wwx gazes tenderly at lwj and whispers: lan zhan. i'm sorry...and thank you

AND WE GET THE ACTORS’ VOCALS ADDED IN TO ~THEIR SONG~ AS LWJ LOOKS UP AND SEES WWX WATCHING HIM

AND I'M HAVING SO MANY FEELINGS

I WOULD LIKE TO GET DISTRACTED BY WWX'S INDECENTLY EXPOSED THROAT AGIAN PLZ

cut to the next day with lxc meditating and our boys hiding behind a privacy screen

lwj is in perfect posture, eyes closed and meditating calmly while wwx keeps listing to the side and jolting awake bc meditating IS FOR NERDS

lol except this time he lists to the opposite side and falls into lwj's shoulder with a cute little gasp

lwj gives him a look and wwx quickly arranges himself into a sloppy lotus pose

jgy walks in and our boys are immediately on alert peeking through the privacy screen

(which actually isn't all that private. you can see through half of it??)

now we get a moment for lxc and jgy in which jgy returns the jade token and it’s, like, a Thing

BUT WE DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM

LET'S SEE OUR BOYS' REACTION TO WHAT JGY HAS TO SAY

wwx is watching lwj as jgy says something about how they don't have info on lwj and wwx yet and lwj closes his eyes against the news

i think he's upset he's placed his brother in this position...

now we're informed that there are active puppets in the burial mounds

lxc is like, well it can't be wwx bc he was stabbed

and jgy is like he's been stabbed before and controlled puppets alright then!

meanwhile wwx behind the screen scoffs and thinks "they think too highly of me"

also, like, jgy was trying to get lxc to give them up by saying how lwj would be safe bc of his great reputation

Honestly, it really just goes to show that these people don't actually care about your actions. they've made their assumptions and they'll stick to them no matter what and IT'S SUPER FRUSTRATING

plot talk plot talk sworn trio moment plot talk

now lxc is off to carp tower while our boys prepare for a field trip to the burial mounds

LIL APPLE AND THE BUNNIES!!

our boys are by a stream and there's bunnies all over the place and wwx is telling lil apple they're leaving

~THEIR SONG~ STARTS UP AGAIN

AHHHHHHHHH, LOOOK!!! THERE’S TEENY TINY SMILE ON LWJ'S FACE AS HE PUTS DOWN BICHEN TO PICK UP ONE OF THE BUNNIES

EVERYTHING IS ADORABLE

WWX GETS THAT LITTLE MISCHIEVOUS SMILE ON HIS FACE AS HE GOES TO POKE THE BUNNY

AND HE MAKES SILLY NOISES AT IT AND IS ALL INSULTED THAT THE BUNNY DOESN'T REACT

SO CUTE!!

wwx: see? they only like you *pout* they're only loyal to their owner

so lwj wordlessly hands over the bunny BC IF HIS SOULMATE WANTS BUNNIES, HIS SOULMATE IS GETTING BUNNIES

the bunny wriggles and wwx is like "don't try to run. you can never run away from me. stay here bunny!"

IT'S SO CUTE I'M GONNA DIE

HE'S JUST PETTING THE BUNNY ALL OVER AND USING A PLAYFUL VOICE WHILE TALKING TO IT AND EVERYTHING IS WONDERFUL

Don’t be jealous of a bunny don’t be jealous of a bunny don’t be jealous of a bunny

wwx looks over to lwj: lan zhan, it's so strange. i know we're going on a dangerous mission but i don't feel scared at all

then he goes back to the bunny and wiggles it around SO CUTELY: do you think it's strange too? what do you think?

AND HE'S GOT THE BIGGEST SMILE

lwj: it's getting late. let's go

wwx: okay *pets bunny* little bunny, we're leaving~

THIS SHOW SHOULD ONLY EVER BE ABOUT BUNNIES, I'VE DECIDED

BUNNIES DON'T HURT ME

now we cut to them at the entrance of the cloud recesses

lil apple is being stubborn and the bunnies are on the steps

wwx: they hate to see you go.

and wwx looks at lwj all playfully

wwx: i never thought that hanguang jun would be so popular among the little animals

and then he finishes with AN ADORABLE LITTLE POUT: bc i'm not

lwj: why not?

wwx: all little animals regardless of their habitat run when they see me. isn't that right lil apple? *proceeds to bully the donkey*

lwj: *walks off bc he does not condone animal abuse or smth*

wwx: wait for me hanguang jun!!

NOW WE'RE ON A DIRT PATH

LWJ IS HOLDING THE LIL APPLE'S LEAD WHILE WWX RIDES LIL APPLE

HE’S PLAYING HIS FLUTE AND THEN STARTS PLAYING ~THEIR SONG~!!!!

AND LWJ LOOKS TOWARDS HIM HIS EYES ALL TENDER AND FULL OF LOVE

WWX IS SMILING WHILE HE PLAYS

EVERYTHING IS STILL WONDERFUL

LWJ HAS ONE OF HIS ALMOST-SMILES ON HIS FACE

wwx: lan zhan, i wanna know, back in the murder turtle cave, what was the name of the song you sang to me?

lwj: why do you ask?

wwx: just tell me the name. i think i've figured out how you recognized me

wwx: tell me what song it is. who's the composer?

lwj: me

wwx: so you composed it?!

lwj: hm

wwx: what's the name then?

THIS IS SUCH A CAREFREE PLEASANT CONVERSATION AND I LOVE IT

lwj: what do you think?

wwx: you're asking my opinion?

he gets this huge smile on his face and giggles

wwx: i think i'll call it...

lwj: i'm thirsty, let's look for water

IT'S RUDE TO INTERRUPT LWJ

they find a random house and wwx proceeds to steal a melon

but they're interrupted so they hide like the CRIMINALS THEY ARE lol

and we see mr & mrs mianmian with little mianmian!!

mr mianmian is all if you run off again the yiling patriarch will eat you!

little mianmian is like I'M NOT SCARED, mama says the yiling patriarch doesn’t bully good people

and that's how mianmian and her husband and daughter get guaranteed invites to their future wedding

we cut to wwx and lwj

wwx is nodding enthusiastically like THAT'S RIGHT, I DON'T HURT INNOCENT PEOPLE, IT'S ABOUT TIME THAT'S ACKNOWLEDGED

ohhhhh really liking how mianmian draws her sword and demands the criminals to show themselves

Lol, she's like WHO'S THERE? and wwx literally answers, UM, NO ONE??

lwj purses his lips like, really?? and comes out of hiding

Mianmian is shocked to find hanguang jun hiding on her property obvs, but is also excited to recognize wwx

wwx: *internally* why does this lady know me?? did she have a problem with me or did i provoke her??

then wwx recognizes her!! he's very excited about it!

and we end the episode on a high note there!!

We get to see the only functional, happy (and alive) marriage in the entire cultivation world!!

And yeah, we got our hearts torn out by kid!lwj but we were rewarded with soft domesticity AND bunnies right after!!!

Overall good quality wangxiantics

Return to Masterpost

#WangXiantics #wangxian #the untamed #cql

104 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years

Text

Love Her (Part 8)

Summary: Dean and the reader are recovering at home when they start to look over the paperwork for her to leave the system. Dean has a strange feeling though and when Sam takes a look, more than a few bombshells are dropped and the reader learns Dean’s still haunts him deeply...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,400ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death/fire, so much angst

______

“Y/N,” said Ana, rushing into your room early the next morning. You took a deep breath and rubbed your face in the dark room. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” you said, laying back down, staring at the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“About seven thirty. Why don’t you go back to sleep? Dean’s still passed out in bed,” she said.

“Are the twins up?” you asked.

“They’re finishing breakfast and then I’ll drop them off. You need something? You want some water?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, rolling to your side, back to her. You felt the bed dip and you sighed. “I’m not in the mood for a talk.”

“You know, everyone in this house has nightmares. Everyone here has some kind of trauma. It sucks but those are the cards we all got dealt. But somehow we all wound up together.”

“Your point?” you asked.

“You have three people you trust. Rae and Ryan you know would never hurt you. Dean, you trust him to protect you, even if you’re not willing to admit it to yourself yet. I understand that I’ll have to earn it with you. But give me a little to work with,” she said.

“I don’t have much faith in people anymore,” you said.

“Yeah. I didn’t used to either. Then I met my husband Dan and he reminded me that there are good people out there. He died four years ago. Dean was…” she trailed off. You looked back over your shoulder at her.

“What?”

“He’s just a good man. He’ll put you three kids before the world,” she said. “I know how much he’s done for me. I hope you can put everything that happened behind the two of you and just be family.”

“Do you take care of him?” you asked. She nodded. “Good. I know there’s other things that happened to him. He deserves to be taken care of too.”

“I know you were eavesdropping the other night. Well, I figured it out eventually but those other things Dean and I might have discussed, let him bring them up,” she said.

“He and his dad used to fight a lot, right?” you asked.

“I’ll just say, you kids, and especially the fact that you are back, have helped him heal more than anything,” she said.

“Ana,” you said. “I do like you. Be patient with me is all.”

“Y/N, I will be as patient as you need me to be,” she said, giving you a smile. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on you. I’m sure we can get to the point of doing our hair and gossiping and eating too much cheese and chocolate in our sweatpants. You two hang out and recover for now, okay?”

“Mhm,” you said.

“Alright. Head back to sleep for me. You need it.”

“Alright, you’re doing better,” said Dean after lunch, putting his flashlight away after checking your concussion again.

“You are such a worrier,” you said as you finished off the last of your ice tea.

“You took a hit that would have landed me on my ass. I’m just a tad concerned,” he said.

“Hey, when I’m all better, can I box again?” you asked.

“Yeah. I missed doing that with you,” he said. “I’m guessing you never kept up with it then.”

“No. I didn’t want to,” you said with a shrug. “Just did school and read a lot. Anything happen around here I don’t know about?”

“I don’t think so. Ryan and Rae play soccer. They’re advanced readers in school which is pretty awesome. Sam got a girlfriend, Eileen. I asked him to hold off on introducing you guys yet. I thought it was a lot of new at once,” said Dean.

“Thanks,” you said. The doorbell rang and you both turned your heads, Dean frowning. He walked over and you followed, Dean opening it to reveal Paula standing there.

“Dean,” she said, stepping inside.

“Paula. Your unannounced visits don’t have the best track record with us,” said Dean, narrowing his eyes at her.

“This is a routine conversation I have with any foster that turns eighteen,” she said. “May I?”

Dean waved his hands and she walked over to the living room, taking a seat on the couch as you crossed your arms in the chair, Dean walking over and standing behind you.

“Well you two look chipper today, don’t you,” she said.

“Whatever you’re talking about, she ain’t leaving,” said Dean.

“Y/N,” said Paula, opening up her bag and ignoring him. “I know your original intention was to stay in foster care as long as you were able to. However, this leaves you in the system technically and given your desire to stay with Dean, I’d recommend you leave the service. As you’re eighteen, you don’t have to have the requirements such as a home or income or-”

“Give me whatever I have to sign. I want out,” you said.

“I figured you’d want that,” she said, sliding over some papers. Dean picked them up off the coffee table. “Your signature isn’t required.”

“I want Sam to read these over first,” said Dean.

“It’s all perfectly standard,” she said.

“Paula. I’m having a lawyer look at these before Y/N signs anything,” he said.

“Fine,” she said. “Call my office when she’s ready.”

Paula left without another word and Dean frowned.

“That was weird,” you said.

“You ever get a bad feeling about her?” Dean asked you.

“She’s not my favorite person in the world but I guess I don’t really know. Why?” you asked.

“She was always telling me not to contact you and not to tell you about your dad’s custody terms. The stuff with Rae and Ryan getting ripped apart shouldn’t have been that much of a possibility if she was willing to fight it. I always had this weird feeling about her after she took you away that night,” he said. “Even like with the doctor’s office thing. It all seemed odd to me.”

“Maybe you’re just worried,” you said.

“I hope so. We’ll have Sam look at this just to be sure.”

“Y/N, you didn’t sign anything, correct?” asked Sam in Dean’s office that night.

“No,” you said, giving him a look. “Why?”

“There’s a clause in here, a sneaky little one that would block all future adoption attempts, even as an adult. You could always fight back but it would likely take years if you’d...Dean,” said Sam, getting up when Dean left the room.

“I’m gonna kill her,” said Dean when you both caught up with him in the foyer, Sam grabbing his arm but Dean shrugged away and started pacing. “I’m gonna kill the bitch, I swear...she stole Y/N from me, from us.”

“We don’t know-”

“She stole her!” said Dean, fuming as Ana came out from their room and into the foyer. “She along with that asshole murdering convict hurt my kid.”

“Dean-”

“My daughter, Sam! For what? So the sick bastard could keep her? No, he wants to control her. I’d kill him too if I could get to him but I’ll settle for-”

“Dean,” said Ana, looking at you. “Calm down.”

Dean stared at her and laughed, throwing his hands up. You looked to Sam who was shaking his head.

“Last time I calmed down, my brother died,” said Dean, his face hard but you all heard the light waiver to his voice.

“Brother?” you asked. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“We had a half brother,” said Sam quietly. “Dad…”

“Dad snuck out on mom once when we were kids. He got some other woman pregnant. No one knew until this other woman got cancer and died and here’s five year old Adam coming to live with us,” said Dean.

“That’s why you fought with your dad,” you said, Dean nodding.

“Couldn’t even wrap it up when he had to cheat. But mom was a saint through it all and by then, they’d worked their crap out so Adam became our brother. I was so angry with dad, we didn’t speak a whole lot for a few years. When I was twenty, us boys went camping. Adam was only eight at the time,” said Dean, swallowing hard. He opened his mouth to speak but you saw him hesitate.

“We got lost and we ended up getting separated,” said Sam. “I broke an arm, Dean dislocated his shoulder and Adam…”

“Adam fell,” said Dean. “And he got hurt and he didn’t wake up.”

Dean bit his bottom lip and looked away, putting his back to you when you saw him shudder.

“Things got bad,” said Sam.

“Dad thought I did it on purpose,” said Dean, his voice high and cracking a bit. You figured he was crying, even if you couldn’t see. “He was my little brother. I got one killed and nearly got Sam killed too.”

“Dean kind of stopped talking to us after he and dad had their blowout. I got a phone call every once in a while but that was it. It wasn’t until Joanna had her accident that everyone made up again,” said Sam.

“You’re forgetting the part where dad thought I did it as payback because he got you out of the house first when it caught on fire when Sam was a baby,” said Dean. “I was fucking four and he thought…”

The house was quiet aside from Dean crying into Ana’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around him.

“He’s wrong,” you said, Dean wiping off his face before he looked back at you. “Your dad was wrong. I think he was angry and took it out on you. I’m sorry. I don’t think he thinks that anymore but he was wrong to ever say that. You’re kind and understanding and you care about people. You didn’t deserve any of those bad things to happen to you, no one in this room did. Everyone’s got their own fucked up shit to deal with and you could have forgotten about me. But you didn’t. You protect me and you make sure I’m safe and I know it’s okay to be a complete mess because you’re always there for me and I think your dad should realize that you’re the kind of parent every kid needs. I need you.”

He gave you a smile, one you remembered seeing when Ryan called him dad for the first time. You weren’t ready for that but for the first time since your mom had died, you knew it in your core that someone loved you unconditionally.

“So listen to Ana and just take a breather. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’ll talk to the office and get it all worked out,” you said. He nodded and Ana took him by his arm back to their room, Sam looking down at you.

“Let’s make her life hell,” said Sam. You blinked slowly at him. “She fucked with you, she fucked with all of us. She’s gonna pay for that.”

“Is he okay?” you asked.

“No,” said Sam. “No, he’s not. He doesn’t talk about Adam. It’s too raw for him. But what you said meant the world to him. He will be eventually. I can guarantee he’s going to be holding onto what you said while he rides through this one though.”

“Can you stay over tonight?” you asked.

“Yeah. I wasn’t really planning on going anywhere, kiddo,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, giving him a hug.

“We have to talk some more about this stuff so I can start to work a timeline. You okay to do that now or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” he asked.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m not in the mood right now,” you said.

“Alright. I’m not much either,” he said. “Why don’t you take a hot shower and call it an early night? I’ll be up in the guest room if you need me.”

After your shower, you lay in bed for awhile, watching the clock tick by until it was after eleven. You got out of bed and wandered down to Dean’s room. The door was open a crack and you caught Ana’s face, getting a wave inside from her. Dean was passed out beside her with his head buried in her side, her hand in his hair.

“You guys okay?” you whispered. She nodded and smiled.

“He’ll be okay. I’m going to stay home tomorrow. You?” she said back.

“I’m okay,” you said, giving her a smile. “I just wanted to check.”

You turned around and left, just out of their side of the house when you felt arms wrap around you.

“S’not your job to worry about me, sweetheart,” said Dean quietly.

“We’re family. It’s always my job,” you said. You felt a half-laugh, half shaky breath against your back. He kissed the top of your head and gave you a big hug.

“Thank you for checking on me,” he said. “Now go to bed for me unless you need me for something.”

“I’m okay, Dean,” you said.

“You sure? That was some pretty big news we found out tonight about Paula,” he said.

“I’m more concerned with you,” you said.

“I’m okay. I will be,” he said. “I never wanted to tell you like that. It’s not something I talk about really.”

“It’s okay. I cry too,” you said.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he said. “Go on now. Bedtime.”

He dropped his arms away and you headed down the hall, spinning back around quickly. He was already gone though and you went back to your room, climbing under the covers.

“Good morning,” you said when Ana and Dean walked into the kitchen. “Sam took the twins to school and I helped make breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart,” said Dean as he went past and ruffled your head.

“Sam did most of it,” you said as Ana grabbed herself a few plates for her and Dean.

“Well thank you sweetheart,” he said, taking a seat at the counter.

“He looks better,” you said quietly as you got him some coffee.

“He is. Mostly. Still upset about the whole Paula situation for the most part,” said Ana.

“I know you two are talking about me,” said Dean.

“Periods, babe,” she said as she spun around.

“Oh,” he said, Ana smirking when her back was to him. “I mean...is something wrong? I’m a doctor and a big boy. You guys can talk about that in front of me.”

“Yes, we were talking about you,” laughed Ana. “Take the hint next time, De.”

“I was buying tampons for her before you,” said Dean.

“I didn’t realize you were an expert,” said Ana. “You guys go bra shopping too?”

“He hid outside the store,” you said.

“Listen, that I have no medical expertise on,” said Dean.

“He tried,” you said with a smile, setting his coffee down in front of him.

“Yeah, I tried,” he said, curling an arm around you waist as he took a sip, giving you a side hug.

“Dean,” said Ana, sliding a plate of food over to him. “Eat some food.”

He released you and you walked around to sit up on the kitchen island, your own coffee in your hands as you watched them eat.

“Are you two gonna stare at me all day?” he said with a mouthful of eggs.

“You got hedgehog hair,” you said, staring at him as he chewed slowly.

“Rabbit,” he said.

“How is that even a tease?” you asked.

“You both look like hedgehogs,” mumbled Ana.

“You’re one to speak,” said Dean.

“I better be a cute hedgehog,” she said. “Wait, I thought I was a fox.”

“Cause you got red hair and foxes are cute but you know, it could kill you if it wanted to,” said Dean.

“I’m okay with a fox,” she said. “You know foxes come in more than just red. Y/N could be a baby fox.”

“I ain’t a baby fox,” you said.

“That’s right, she’s a baby wolf,” said Dean.

“Why am I baby? I am quite literally an adult now,” you said. They looked at one another and then back at you.

“Baby,” they both said, breaking into smiles.

“I’m not a baby!” you said.

“You’re cute like a baby,” said Ana.

“Come on, baby wolf. Still badass,” said Dean.

“Can I at least be like, teenage wolf?” you asked.

“Baby wolf. You don’t get to pick your own animal kid,” said Dean.

“At least I’m not a baby sloth,” you said.

“Ryan’s a goat,” said Ana.

“Naturally,” you said with a laugh. “He still loves his goats?”

“Oh yeah. I think we’ve gone to the fall festival like every weekend so far this year,” said Dean. “What did we pick for Rae? Crocodile?”

“Yeah. She bit a boy at the park,” said Ana as she ate.

“I was proud but had to pretend to be mad,” said Dean. “Some kid was bullying her so she showed him who’s boss.”

“A bully?” you asked.

“I mean, it wasn’t too long after you left. She and Ry were complaining to another kid that they missed you and the kid started to make fun of them and Ryan started crying and he ran over to me and I just saw Rae bite this kids arm and yeah, our baby of the family is a scrapper apparently,” he said.

“She’s tough,” you said.

“I always thought Ryan was the hard one until you left,” said Dean. “Turns out they’re both hard.”

“Do you still read to them?” you asked. Ana smiled and took a sip of her coffee, glancing at Dean.

“No, not so much anymore. They like to read on their own. They’re both very good. They’re always coming home with books from school,” he said.

“Dean says you’re a big reader,” said Ana.

“The foster kid normally doesn’t get to pick what to watch on TV. Books are free from the library,” you said.

“You want a TV for your room?” asked Dean.

“You don’t have to,” you said.

“We’ll get you one. Unless you’re a fan of constant cartoons,” said Dean. You nodded and they returned to eating, Ana eyeing Dean every so often.

“Yes, honey?” he asked.

“If I leave you two alone to run to the grocery store for an hour are you good with that?” she asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed.

“We’ll be okay,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll try not to be too long,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later the house was quiet and you’d gotten dressed, in a pair of leggings and a baggy shirt, wandering down to Dean’s room to find him lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey.”

You climbed on top next to him, rolling onto your side.

“How’s the cheek today, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you said. “Are you okay?”

He turned his head and shook it.

“Not really. Go get your jacket,” he said. “I want to go somewhere.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 9 here!

#spn #supernatural #dean x foster daughter!reader #series #au #dean winchester

429 notes · View notes

drbibliophile · 3 years

Text

Sunday Romance 04-05-21

Prompt: You found me

Word count: 1395

Tagging: @sunday-romance @sophiaroe @viawrites-andacts

I finally got started on Camp Nanowrimo which is occupying my mind more. However, here’s a little something. It sounded better in my head, but so it goes.

Christian unlocked the apartment door and tossed his keys onto the side table. He locked the door securely behind him before he flipped on the hall light. Another wild and exciting evening of takeout Indian and doom scrolling either through the TV or on his phone. Phone. He could call Jocelyn. He could try to explain, but he wasn’t sure that she would listen. He wasn’t sure he’d listen if he was in her shoes either. Christ, it was all completely fucked up and he knew it.

He headed for the combination kitchen, living, and dining room. The apartment wasn’t large, but it was clean and cheap. He could stay here incognito for a while as he and Nick figured out what to do. It would’ve been nice to have better internet. Then he could’ve spent some time mindlessly gaming. However, the connection here was wonky and he didn’t have his gaming machine. Probably for the best anyway. He put the takeout bag on the counter and opened up the fridge.

“For tonight’s choice of a lovely beverage we have either unsweet iced tea or sweet iced tea or water.” He practiced his announcing voice. “It’s a challenge, of course, but one I’m certain that our hero can muddle through.” He leaned down to reach into the fridge. “Let us see what he decides.”

“I’d go for the sweet iced tea.”

Jocelyn’s voice shocked him. He tried to stand, but instead he managed to slam his head into the fridge. “Ow! Shit!”

He backed out of the fridge and stood cautiously. He rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. Jocelyn. She was here, sitting in one of the dining table chairs. It was turned away from the table and faced the kitchen. She was leaning back in her chair, her dark colored duster still around her. She had one leg crossed over the other while one hand rested on the table top. Her other arm slung over and behind the chair. She had a neutral expression on her face, but he doubted that she was neutral.

“Joce.” He managed to say her name without squeaking.

“Christian.”

She was mad. She only called him by his full name when she was angry with him. “You found me.” She shrugged, the dangerous No, Really, Tell Me Something I Don’t Already Know Shrug. “I mean, how?”

She smirked, the Angry as Fuck Smirk, another sign that boded poorly for him. “Wasn’t too hard. You aren’t as sneaky as you think.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flooded him.

“Though choosing a big city was smart. You’d stick out like a sore thumb in a smaller place. Also choosing this part of town was good. People like to keep themselves, don’t care too much about what their neighbors are doing.”

“It was clean and cheap.”

“Amazingly enough.”

“Anything else I should know in case I want to go on the lam again?”

She glanced away, but she couldn’t completely squelch her snort. “No. You actually did a decent job. Probably would’ve taken me longer to find you if I hadn’t gone straight to Plan B.”

That surprised him. “Which was?”

She settled a lethal gaze on him. “Threatening Nicholas with bodily harm if he didn’t tell me where you were.” “And he gave me up?”

“Yes, and pretty quickly too.”

“Damn.” He looked down at the formica counter. “So much for having my back.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too hard on him.” He heard the chair move and creak as she stood. “I can be pretty intimidating.”

He looked up to find her standing on the other side of the counter from him. “Yes, you can be.” He meant for it to sound light, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

She smirked again, but this was more the I’m Supposed to Be Annoyed But Instead I Am Amused smirk. That was at least something positive. “Glad we can agree on that.”

He smiled back at her, but the smile faded swiftly. “So, what are you doing here?” he asked cautiously. “Here to kick my ass?”

She shrugged, the Trying to Keep All the Emotions Under Control Shrug. “Thought about it. Thought about it a lot. Nate was definitely in favor of that option.”

“Big brothers tend to be.”

“Yes. M couldn’t decide if I should or not.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Thought she’d be calling for my head on a silver platter.”

“She was, but then she thought that maybe I should listen to your side of the story.” She paused, looking away as she did. “Before I kicked your ass.”

“So the general consensus is that I need an ass-kicking.”

“So it would seem.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Uncertainty and apprehension dried his mouth as he waited for her answer.

Jocelyn faced him. She wasn’t smirking. There was no anger to her expression at all. She wore all her hurt on her face. His chest clenched and his stomach churned in ways that made him nauseous. Christ, this was worse than her being angry at him. Anger he could manage, but this hurt? This incredibly vulnerable and painful look on her face? That he had caused because he was an idiot? It slayed him, hitting him like a combination punch to the gut and heat.

She swallowed hard. “Ask you why you were so uncertain of me that you couldn’t tell me the truth.”

He closed his eyes, his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe. Of course she would see it that way. He should’ve known, should’ve said something, but he hadn’t so here they were. He looked up at her, wincing at her continued hurt. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again, desperate for the words that wouldn’t send her to the door. He had so many lines memorized, but none of them would work. Because none of them were the truth and if anything, that was what she deserved. The truth.

“I wasn’t uncertain of you,” he finally managed.

“Then what?”

He looked away. “More I was uncertain of me.”

That surprised her. “Meaning?”

He swallowed, trying to find a way to ease the pressure in his chest. It wasn’t coming. “Meaning I wasn’t sure if you’d believe me.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. Most people haven’t.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No, you’re not.” He studied her, wanting desperately to believe that she did believe him. “So you believe me?”

“Dangerous question.”

He winced. “You don’t believe me?”

“Didn’t say that either.”

“Then what?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s a hard story to swallow and honestly, I was going to cut you loose because getting cheated on by a movie star is awfully cliche and I’m so not into cliches.”

“But…”

She stopped him by holding her hand up. “Then I decided that I couldn’t do that until I had the chance to kick your ass as thoroughly as it needed to be kicked which meant finding you for said ass-kicking which meant I had to talk to Nicholas since had decided to try and disappear.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “That gave him the chance to corroborate your side of the story, that it’s all some frame-up.”

There was that damn hope again easing up the pressure in his chest. “So you do believe me?” She just studied him, tilting her head as she did. “Joce,” he growled as she didn’t answer. Then she smiled, that special I Adore You Even If You Are an Idiot smile, and his chest lost its ache. “You believe me.”

“Yes.” She moved to the same side of the counter as him. “Because while you’re a brilliant actor, the rest of you is too much of a himbo to cheat on anyone.”

He looked at her skeptically even as he pulled her to him. “Thanks, I think.”

She grinned. “Take it as a compliment. It’s the only reason I believe you.”

“Done.” He kissed her hard, eager for the feel of her against him again. She kissed him back, no hesitation that he could sense. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be.” Her hand caressed over his cheek.

“So now what?” She grinned. “We eat, we have some sexy times, and then we figure out how to take the bastards out.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

#sunday romance #sunday love #sundaylove #my writing #jocelyn and christian #I never could figure out his transgression #thought about rewriting but am lacking the time #it is what it is

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sideblogformindtrash · 4 years

Text

CW: NSFW no-con, abusive relationship dynamic, reluctant whumper, physical abuse, emotional abuse(?), mentions of death, murder and trauma; grabbing; swearing, screaming; mentions of breaking bones/restraints.

Y’all want more random oc whump with no context? Also this one was supposed to be part of a VN plot that I scrapped bc was nervous about letting people actually see it, so It branches out a lot all the time and I kind of just reunited the pieces I liked more for this part. Sorry it’s long and angst. Also not pet whump, they just have dumb animal codenames ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

…Crow reaches the building reception. It’s darkish in there, as the only light comes from the setting sun. This part of the building does not receive electrical power. Most of The City doesn’t, anwyay. He is about to leave, but notices some movement behind him.

He turns abruptly. Bunny is standing on the base of the stairs. Crow clenches his fists. Bunny is not allowed to leave their apartment. On the other hand, he was one sneaky little bastard. He wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t intentionally made noise.

“What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to leave the apartment.”

“Yeah I… I know.”

“Than what the hell are you standing there for? Run back upstairs before I beat you and drag you there myself.”

“No, just… Just listen.”

Listen. Crow crosses his arm and stares, a face that says ‘better be worth it.’

“You shouldn’t go outside today.”

Bunny is struggling to make sense of his own words. Crow lifts an eyebrow.

“Because…?”

“It’s just… I feel something bad will happen to you if you go out.”

“…And why would you care? I’ve given you plenty of reasons to not give a fuck about my safety. Thought you would be happy if I died, actually”

“NO!” It’s a half scream, as he goes down the last two steps of the staircase “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I don’t want you to die!”

…He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. What a fucking joke. When Crow closes his eyes, he can almost see her again, her head cracked open on the pavement. One moment she was there and then… Gone.

“Yeah now you care about us.”

Bunny shakes his head, looking at the floor.

“I never wanted it to end that way.”

“You are a fucking liar, that’s what you are Bunny.”

“It’s not… I didn’t knew. I swear.” Little tears starting to form on the corners of that pretty face “Won’t you ever forgive me?”

“Maybe when you learn to raise up the dead. You are seriously upsetting me. Go back upstairs. Now.”

“No!” He dares “I-I might not be worthy of forgiveness but I am trying to help you now, please.”

“Yeah, sure you are.”

“Please… Can’t you see I just… I want you to be safe?”

“I don’t know? Can’t you see I’m about to punch your stupid face if you don’t get out of here?”

“…Fine. You are right anyway” Bunny clenches his fists and puffs his chest, as if that could make him look threatening. “I do hope you fucking die!”

…He must have noticed the sparkle that lit up Crown’s face, showing that he had gone too far. Immediately he cowered again, and turned to run upstairs. Crow advances like an arrow, covering the distance between the two and blocking his path.

Bunny changes direction before Crow could grab him and tries to run outside. Again, Crow only need a moment to be over him,, this time grabbing his wrist and throwing him against the reception desk.

“N-No! Stop it!”

Bunny tries to push him away, so he punches him on the stomach. He gasps, out of air, but keeps trying to fight. Grabbing him by the hair, Crow pulls his head backwards until he lets out a cry. He tries to claw at Crow’s hands, only to get punched again.

“Just stop struggling, you’ll only make things worse on yourself”

He is mostly immobilized now, and starts to hyperventilate. He pulls his face as far from Crow as he can manage… And gives up, letting his body go limp.

“P-please…”

Crow nuzzles at his neck and runs his tongue through it, giving kisses and bites.

“Crow… Crow don’t…” He tries again “C-Can we just… Later… Please. I’ll… I’ll do it later just not-“

Crow pushes him further against the table and pulls his shirt off. He sobs a bit, while Crow slides his hands down his pants.

“Not like this. Not when you are angry…” sobs “Not just because you want to hurt me.”

Just because you want to hurt him. As if that would make him feel any better. Slowly, Crow lets go of him. They stare at each other for a moment… Bunny pushes Crow and runs out the door.

…Just like that he is gone. Crow pulls his legs closer, into a hug, silently staring, wondering if he should follow. Can’t even feel angry about this just… Numb. After a while, Crow gets back on his feet and lay down on the old sofa of the reception, a cloud of dust lifting once he falls there. Everything is dark and silent now.

He closes his eyes, hoping to dose off and get a break from his thoughts. Maybe he had really gone too far. He tried to remember what it felt like to be the one getting hurt. He had promised his younger self that he would be better than those people. That he would be a hero. What a fucking joke.

He wondered if that was an idea he had brought from the Crystal World. His home. The only thing he had left of that place was a tiny statue of a crow and that stupid City Patch, where he had come from. No one else had ever come from there, he was the only one of his kind. All alone.

Memories of childhood among huge crystal spires, ever-changing colors and cold breeze nurse him to sleep.

The feeling of being watched wakes him up again. Eyes in the dark watching him, Bunny nervously holding his shirt.

“So… You will break my legs now?” He asks, nervously twisting the fabric.

“Huh?”

“…Coyote said I’d have my legs broken if I tried to run away again. That I’d be chained to the wall.”

“Hm. Yeah, no. You came back.”

The first time it happened, Coyote had broken one of his arms. He was by far the most aggressive and vicious of the group. Crow was too angry, too sad and too lost to care, and just let the man do about anything he wanted to Bunny. But nowadays… Well, he was keeping an eye on them so that it wouldn’t go too far.

Crow sighs. He felt apologies were worthless, but…

“I guess you really wanted to help me this time, for some reason. I pushed you to it. I’m… Hm, I’m sorry.”

“I…” Bunny looks down “Thank you.”

Crow signals for Bunny to come closer. Reluctant, he does. Crow pulls Bunny over him. He flinches, but…

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just… Just stay with me. Please.”

Bunny nods, and let’s himself rest on top of Crow, laying his head on the man’s chest, hearing his heart. They both stay together as stars appear on the sky, silence and stillness cover that world like a thick dust.

“Crow?” Bunny says finally “You…. You still want to have sex?”

“That… wasn’t the point. You were right. I only wanted to hurt you.”

“I know…” he sighs “But it’s okay now. I think. Or… are you still angry?”

Bunny lifts his head, Crow pushes away a lock of hair out of the tear-stained face.

“I’m… Always angry I guess. Not at you just… At everything” Crow sighs, not wanting to hold eye contact “You don’t have to do it.”

“… Not being angry… Doesn’t mean you have forgiven me”

He leans his head on Crow chest again, quietly weeping. Crow pets his head. No, he hasn’t. But his forgiveness wasn’t worth much of anything anyways.

“The worst isn’t that you hurt me Crow” he whispers “The worst part is that I feel like I deserve it. You think so too, don’t you? You all do. But I can’t fix what I did.”

He sits over Crow, now trying to wipe away the angry tears.

“And later you regret hurting me or something and try to act nice to appease your consciousness or something, and I’ll believe you because I’m so desperate for things to get any better! Shit… You… You are doing that right now, but tomorrow will be the same shit all over again because just like everything on this stupid fucking planet, time is standing still. And there is no way for this to change because I can’t undo what I did.”

Crow tries to hug him again, but slapping Crow’s hands to the side, he falls into a much more desperate cry, hiding his face on his hands.

“I… I wish you’d love me again. Like you did before all this”

Crow’s chest tightens a little. Back then… things indeed seemed much better. And Crow did love him, and so did Ferret. But that’s what made the betrayal so much worse.

“Why would you want me to love you, I’ve done nothing but hurt you… For months now”

“Everyone has hurt me.” His sobs turn to screams that cut the heavy silence of that world “My entire fucking life I’ve been thrown around by people who didn’t care about me beyond whatever they wanted to use me for. But you are the only one that made me feel like can’t live without you… And I fucking hate you for that.”

Bunny cries louder, gasps for air and eventually… Calms down. Crow waits, patiently, lost in thought.

“…I hate myself for it too. I wish I could bring her back. I wish I hadn’t fucked up the only good thing I ever had. But I can’t”

“Bunny… Do you want to leave?”

Bunny frowns, eyes red from crying. He cleans the tears, and thinks for the longest time.

“If I say I do… Will you really let me leave?”

Crow nods.

“…No… I don’t. But you know that already, don’t you? If I wanted to go… I wouldn’t have come back”

“Did you come back because… Because of the things you just told me?”

“Yeah. I guess. But also… Where would I even go?”

And that was the question that plagues everyone on that City, all struggling for shreds of normalcy that had been stolen from them by some cruel trick of the universe.

He seems so tired, standing there, chest moving slowly, the pale skin marked by bruises. Crown envies him for his looks, skin that is still soft and not completely covered in scars like his own.

“…You and the others… Are the closest I’ve had from a family in years. And it hurts because I still love you.” He shakes his head “… I wish you would love me back or… Or just hate me all at once. I’m just so… So tired of having you toy with me like this.”

Bunny lays down again, head against his heart.

“You think you could ever love me again, Crow?”

Crow stares away into the ceiling. Loving him again meant taking responsibility for the pain he caused him. For every. Single. Bruise. Every. Single. Tear. And more importantly, never ever doing it again.

…It meant forgiving him.

“It’s too much to ask for, isn’t it?” Bunny seems to be shivering, fighting his tears again “I get it. But… Is it okay if I pretend you still do? At least… At least maybe now?”

“Yeah” Crow says, wrapping him on a tight hug “For now, is okay if you do.”

#whump #oc whump #whump writing #crow and bunny

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