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stayteezdreams · 11 months

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Special To Me: Part One

Plot: After a long and tiring day, you feel as though the world is against you. And when you get stuck in the rain, you feel it even more so. Until, someone with an umbrella and bright smile comes to your rescue.

-Part Two-

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Gn!Reader

-Meet Cute Series-

Warnings: Brief mention of a toxic ex-boyfriend. PSA I do not condone following random men to their apartment just because they tell you too (but I mean, it's Yunho, so, a bitch just might 👀)

Words: 2.7k

The exhaustion running through you had taken it's toll already. Your steps were slow and a bit clumsy. Your grip was lax on your bag as you made your way towards the bus stop.

First your car broke down, leaving you to ride to work on the bus, causing you to be late. Then your less than understanding boss yelled at you. Later, you were piled with more work than you had time, and you spilled coffee on your top.

Half-way through your day, your ex-boyfriend somehow got a hold of your new phone number and sent you a bunch of toxic and hurtful messages. Only reminding you of just what you escaped from when you had ended your relationship.

And to top it all off, when you had gone outside to take your break, you tripped and dropped your phone, successfully shattering it.

As you approached the bus stop, you tried to remind yourself that soon you'd be home, and soon this horrible day would be over.

Seeing the bus stop ahead of you, you thought it was odd that no one was there. Checking your watch, you frowned. You weren't late. Maybe the people who took the bus got off work later then you?

The reality of what was really happening hit you as you saw the sign above the stop.

'Bus Cancelled due to Delays'

"You've got to be kidding me" You muttered, feeling your chest tighten.

You looked around, seeing no one nearby to tell you if there was another bus stop nearby or if those stops were cancelled too.

Reaching for your phone to call an Uber, you suddenly remembered it was busted. Your chest tightened as you felt emotion welling up in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, trying to push your feelings aside. 'Maybe someone will come by? Or I could walk back to that store down the street and ask to use someone's phone there'

You were going over the options in your head, when you suddenly felt a somehing hit your cheek.

Pausing, you reached up and touched it, feeling the wet drop. Looking up, you noticed the overcast sky had grown significantly darker.

"Don't you dare." You said, a lump forming in your throat just as another rain drop landed on your forehead, followed by another, before the steady sound of light rain surrounded you.

Looking around, you saw nowhere to take shelter, even the bus stop was not a covered one.

"Oh come on!" You said loudly, your voice cracking as you stood there, defeated as the emotion you had tried to push away started to bubble over.

Looking up, as the rain started to slowly soak you, you felt tears start to form in your eyes.

Yunho opened his umbrella the second he felt a raindrop hit his shoulder. He began humming lightly to himself as he headed back to his dorm.

Looking around, his eyes caught on a familiar figure across the road. Yunho stopped, confusion washing over him.

'What are they doing?' He asked himself as he looked at you.

He had seen you on a few occasions near here. Buying flowers, or talking to the bookstore owner. You always had a bright smile and charming demeanor.

Every time he saw you, he felt a smile tug at his lips. He always wondered if one day you'd be on the same side of the road. And if he'd have the courage to say hi to you.

But now, as you stood in the rain, face turned up to the sky you looked so defeated, he almost didn't recognize you.

He wasn't sure why, since it was raining and he couldn't really tell, but he had a feeling you were crying. And his stomach twisted as he watched you.

Before he really realized it, he was crossing the street, and heading right towards you.

'This has got to go down as one of the worst days in my life' You thought to yourself as you remained still, no longer caring that you were soaked, or that you were alone and stranded.

Trying to suppress the tears that continued to spill, you suddenly heard the sound of rain hitting something, as you no longer felt the drops hitting your face.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, and you saw above you, an umbrella. Your eyes moved to the person holding it, and your breath caught.

He was tall, handsome, and you felt as though you had seen him before. He smiled at you, and you felt as though warmth was radiating from him.

You stared at him in silence for a moment, processing what was happening, before you stuttered out "Th-thanks"

When your eyes fluttered open and met his, Yunho felt butterflies in his stomach. And when he noticed your reddened eyes and fallen face, he knew he was right in thinking you had been crying.

His smile widened a bit, and then he spoke, his voice deep, but soft. "Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to speak, ready to smile and lie, pretending as though your day hadn't been plotted by the devil himself.

"Yea-" you scoffed softly, giving in "No not really"

He tilted his head slightly and you saw worry mixed with pity cross his face. His eyes moved to the nearby bus stop and you saw the moment he saw the cancelled sign as he nodded a bit.

His eyes snapped back to you "I'm Yunho."

"Y/n."

Yunho felt his heart tug a bit as he decided that your name fit you perfectly. And he felt the overwhelming desire to hug you as he saw the pure defeat across your features.

Even with the annoyance that would come with a cancelled bus, he could tell there was more to why you looked so dejected.

You watched as Yunho's smile got a little bit brighter before he reached down and wrapped his hand gently around your wrist.

"Come on!" He said with soft enthusiasm before he tugged you long.

Your heart started to pound as you followed, though uncertain why you were "W-what? Where are we going?" You asked with an uncertain tone.

"My apartment is just around the corner, I'll get you a spare umbrella and a cab." he said softly as he looked back at you and smiled.

You let him continue to lead you towards his apartment. Your mind was racing, as you were certain following a stranger to his apartment was never a good idea.

But you weren't sure if it was the exhaustion or general defeat that had washed over you, you weren't afraid. Nothing about Yunho told you to run, so you let him lead you as he held his umbrella over the both of you to shield you from the rain.

If he did turn out to be a creep, you had dealt with enough today you don't think you'd have a problem with hitting him if needed.

Yunho could tell you were confused, and even a bit alarmed at his sudden actions. But you weren't pulling away or showing any real fear, so he hoped you could trust him enough to help you.

"Why are you helping me?" You asked softly after a few moment, as you looked up at him while you continued down the road, his hand still gently wrapped around your wrist.

Looking down at you, his eyes seemed to study you for a moment before he smiled "Because I like it better when you're smiling"

Your heart jolted in your chest as you stared at him, though he turned his face away from you again. What did that mean? Did he know you? Was that why he seemed familiar? Or was it a weird pick up line?

Before you could gather your thoughts and say anything in return, Yunho lead you into an apartment complex.

You stayed silent as you let him lead you into an apartment. Looking around the entry way, you noted it was very nice, and obviously too big for one person. How many roommates did he have? Or maybe it was his families home? Maybe he lived here with his partner?

Slipping off your shoes, you stood in the entry as you watched him walk further into the apartment. After a moment, he stopped and looked back a you, noting how you awkwardly stood there.

He rose his brow a bit and you looked down at yourself "I don't want to get your floor wet."

He chuckled and you felt your lips tug at the sound.

"I'll get you a towel, hold on."

You watched him quickly disappear into the apartment and you looked around. 'I wonder if there is anyone else here? What would they think if they came out and found me here?'

Hearing approaching footsteps, you watched Yunho appear again, a few towels in his hands.

As he handed them to you, you smiled sheepishly at him "Thank you."

Seeing your eyes wander around a bit as you wrapped one of the towels around your shoulder Yunho spoke up "My roommates are all out right now."

You nodded, pretending as though you hadn't been wondering who else lived here.

"Once you dry off a bit, I'll help you get a taxi."

You figured he knew why, but not wanting there to be too much silence, you spoke up "How did you know I needed one?"

"I saw that the bus had been cancelled."

"Oh." You said softly as you nodded "I would have called one myself, but...I dropped my phone earlier, it wont even turn on now."

Yunho winced at bit at this, knowing just how upsetting that could be. He added that to the list of reasons you must seem so down.

"Can I ask you something else?" you added on as you met his eyes.

He nodded encouragingly, as a soft smile crossed his face.

"What did you mean when you said 'I like it better when you're smiling'?"

Yunho chuckled awkwardly as he looked down on his feet. "Uh, I just meant- well, I see you pretty often when I'm walking home and you always seem so happy, but today..." he looked at you as he trailed off.

You looked down at yourself and chuckled "Yeah, you don't need to finish that thought."

He giggled softly, before he tilted his head a bit and spoke softly "Can I ask what happened?"

You hesitated for a moment, but opened your mouth to speak.

Suddenly he rose his hand "Actually, first, come in." He motioned for you to come further.

You hesitated and he smiled "Don't worry about getting anything wet, it's fine, come on, I'll get you some coffee, or tea?" He gestured for you to follow him as he made his way into the apartment.

Slowly, you followed, feeling somewhat as though you were trespassing.

Sitting at the kitchen counter, warm mug in your hands as you now donned clothes that weren't yours, you felt comfortable, yet still troublesome.

As though you were getting in Yunho's way, even though he was the one who insisted on you staying while he dried your clothes. He even gave you some of his clothes to wear while you waited.

After Yunho had made you a hot drink, he sat down across from you and listened patiently as you told him all that had happened to you today. At first you thought of only sharing small details, but quickly, you found yourself telling him everything.

All the while, he listened intently, genuinely curious and empathetic. He gave comments here and there about your boss being too stubborn and not understanding enough when your car breaking down wasn't your fault. And when you brought up your toxic ex, you hesitated before speaking slowly.

"He just...knows exacly what to say to make me feel as bad as possible.

Yunho frowned and shook his head a bit "How did he even get your number?"

You let out a soft sigh "I have a feeling it was a friend of mine. They never really believed all the bad things I said about him. He's good at hiding his true colors around people."

"Well if they were a real friend, they would have believe you, you deserve better."

You let out a soft airy laugh as you looked down into your drink.

"So...do you regularly bring in strays and give them a hot drink and a pep talk?"

Yunho grinned at this, "No, you're the first."

"Ahh" you said softly feeling your ears get warm "I must be special then" You joked as you sipped our drink.

Yunho's smile turned soft as his eyes seemed to glisten a bit "You are." His tone was soft yet genuine.

You felt butterflies in your stomach as your heart raced. It was obvious on your face, this effected you, as you smiled and looked back down into your drink, suddenly finding it very interesting.

Yunho grinned at noticing how his reply effected you. 'Cute' he thought to himself before he stood up straight.

Suddenly feeling an unusual amount of courage, he cleared his throat and spoke "There have been a few times when I saw you at the flower shop when I was walking home. And I almost crossed the street just so I could see you closer. I wanted to talk to you, to maybe have one of those bright smiles directed at me."

You looked back up at him, your eyes widening with his confession. Your heart was pounding, and your ears burning. He really thought that way? You effected him like that?

"But- I wasn't sure if you'd want to talk to me, or if you'd get scared by me approaching you." He admitted, his voice now wavering a bit as he started to feel self-conscious.

You smiled brightly at him and he felt his heart jump "I wouldn't be scared. I mean, I did willingly follow you to your apartment" he chuckled and you continued "And I would have talked with you. I could tell the second I saw you today, you're kind. I would have loved talking to you."

He couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face, and you chuckled, glad you were having a similar effect on him as he had on you.

He leaned down against the counter, leaning on his arms "Does that mean I can cross the street to talk to you now?"

You leaned a bit closer "I think I'd be offended if you didn't."

He laughed as your eyes met, something passing between the two of you you couldn't quite place.

Hearing Yunho's phone go off, your eyes broke away as he looked down. You saw his face fall for a second before he smiled again and looked at you "Your taxi's here."

"Oh." you sat up, having almost forgot he called you one. "My clothes-"

"Aren't done yet" Yunho finished for you as he looked around "Uhh- I could... if you give me your number, oh wait...your phone."

You chuckled awkwardly "Yeah, my phone." After thinking for a second you met his eyes "Are you doing anything tomorrow around two?"

He shook his head "How about we meet at the flower shop and we can trade clothes back?"

Yunho smiled and nodded his head "Alright, sounds good."

As Yunho walked you to the door, handing you and umbrella to take as it was now pouring outside, you looked back up at him and smiled, one of the most genuine smiles you had today.

"Thank you Yunho. For helping me, and caring. You made today about a hundred times better than it could have been."

"Only a hundred?" He asked with a sarcastic tone "I'll try harder next time."

You chuckled your face warming up due to his comment as he grinned down at you.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded "Tomorrow."

As you walked down the hallway, Yunho watched you for a moment, his thoughts already on tomorrow when he'd see you again.

He felt a little guilty at the thought of having lied to you. Your clothes had in fact already finished drying, but he wanted an excuse to see you again.

He felt a little guilty, but only a little.

xx End xx

-Part Two-

Hope you liked it~ If you did, please consider reblogging :)

Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad, @acciocriativity, @soso59love-blog

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cacoetheswriting · 5 months

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pearl: may 1986

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, oblivious idiots in love, emotional hurt / comfort, self-doubt / insecurities, grief, mentions of death / losing a loved one, mentions of recreational drug use, mentions of blood / description of injuries - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist

Grief.

Unfortunately, you knew the feeling all too well.

When your dad passed, you thought the grief would swallow you whole. It embedded itself into your core being and on most days, it fucking consumed you. You lost a parent, a protector, a friend. You lost all of the future possibilities and memories you’ll never get to make. You really lost a piece of yourself.

Then, just as you’d gone through all seven stages of grief and slowly began to pick up the pieces that remained in your life, your dad passed away all over again the night you found out how he really left this earth.

There was also the grief you were experiencing due to your fall out with Eddie. Around this time last year was probably the worst you’ve ever felt and you truly thought you’d be stuck in a never ending cycle of grief, until you reconciled with the metalhead and Eddie’s lovable personality showed you how you could make other memories.

The curly-haired boy became your sun, your moon, and your stars. He was the air you breathed, the reason you got out of bed every morning. You loved him entirely and yet you were too scared to tell him. Not because you feared he didn’t love you back, you knew he did. You delayed because at times, falling in love with Eddie felt like your eighth stage of grief. You were convinced you unintentionally — and frankly unbeknown to the boy — put too much pressure on him. Pressure to fix you. Fix how you were feeling, fix how you were acting. Fix your grief.

More importantly though, admitting out loud how you truly felt made it all a little too real and what if you somehow lost him like you lost your dad?

Reflecting on it now, once again your attempt at self-preservation didn't really matter.

March 1986 happens.

Eddie decides to play hero and despite your pleas and bargains, his mind is set on saving the world. Ever since then, your nightmares feature the horrid memory of Dustin and you carrying Eddie’s bloody, unconscious body through the Upside Down. They feature your screams, Dustin’s cries. They feature you scrambling, trying to lift Eddie through the hole in the ceiling and later into your car as he bled out in your arms.

To this day, you can still smell the blood. The scent overpowers your senses every time you close your eyes and you’re instantly nauseous. Although distractions help — (such as all of Hawkins literally sinking underground).

Miraculously, Eddie survived the whole ordeal.

Dustin was the first to call and say the metalhead’s awake. You tell the young boy you’ll visit that afternoon, but you never do. When Steve stops by your house a couple of days later with an offer of a ride to the hospital, you pretend you’re feeling unwell because even though your brain comprehends Eddie’s okay, the grief has attached itself to your heart like a sweater that you can never take off.

The charade was rather pointless because Wayne was living with you and your mom since March which meant naturally, once Eddie was discharged from the hospital, he moved here too.

Suddenly he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“We should probably talk,” Eddie said after approaching you in the kitchen the day after he was discharged.

You stiffen in his presence and without even looking at him, you say, “I-I don’t— There’s nothing I have to say to you.”

In the space of a heartbeat, he’s next to you, fingers brushing your forearm as if he was debating whether to grab you or not. But you don’t give him a chance to. Instead, you walk out and rush upstairs for your bedroom. Although Eddie is right behind.

He squeezes past you and stops you mid-stairs before grabbing your face in his hands.

“I meant what I said, you know that, right?” Eddie’s desperate. He’s searching your eyes for any sort of indication that you feel the same, but your expression is only one of sorrow.

“I love you,” he says as confidently as he can.

You swallow thickly. “I don’t believe you.”

The sentence comes out in a mere whisper, but Eddie definitely hears you. His shoulders drop and although he’s still holding your face, his grips loosens.

“Don’t say that…”

“I don’t believe you,” you repeat and break yourself free from his embrace.

Despite his best attempts to talk to you after, you didn’t want to be near him. He was like a ghost of the human he used to be before March and you felt just as empty. Truthfully, you didn’t know how to act around him.

“Hey,” your best friend’s soothing tone hails you back to reality, “Is there room for one more on this rooftop?”

You glance back at Eddie, nodding your head, and watch as he climbs out of your bedroom window. He sits next to you, although an arms-length away, quite careful not to brush against any part of you.

A lump forms at the back of your throat at his conscious effort to keep some distance between you ‘cause he knows, at face value, that’s what you think you want, and you force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the night sky.

Then the silence lingers on.

It’s all so tense and you’re grieving again. Grieving what Eddie and you used to have, what you used to be. You are so desperate to return to those days, the sensation is honestly making you sick to your stomach. The boy who was once your rock, feels more like a stranger.

And Eddie must sense your apprehension because the next thing you hear is the flick of his lighter — proving, even now when you’ve never felt more distance between you, exactly why you still love him whole-heartedly. He knows you.

“You know,” he exhales a puff of smoke and you tilt your head to look at you, “The last time we smoked weed on your rooftop, your dad almost caught us. Do you remember? He scared the shit out of me, I damn nearly fell down.”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours.

“He didn’t almost catch us, Eds. He popped his head out that window and for sure knew what we were up to. Let’s be honest, we stank and couldn’t stop giggling.”

The boy shrugs. “Worth it, if you ask me.”

You’re not really sure what to say next and there’s a moment of borderline tense silence, during which your eyes are glued together. Eddie’s chocolate-button gaze is staring deeply into your own and for the first time in a long time, he feels real.

So much so, without really thinking, you extend one hand in his direction and your fingers attach themselves to his like magnets. You squeeze gently. Then again ‘cause they’re warm, unlike your last memory of his touch.

Eddie briefly glances at your sudden hold on him and a timid smile circles his lips.

“You know,” he clears his throat and you know he’s thinking exactly what’s on your mind, “The last time we uhm, we held hands was—”

“Please don’t ruin the moment,” you interrupt in a mere whisper because avoidance is easier. Easier than sadness, than heartbreak. Than grief. Avoidance is a feeling the two of you knew all too well. Avoidance has always been the third wheel in your friendship.

“But we have to talk about it,” Eddie says, cocking his head to the side.

He frees himself from your grasp, but only to put out the joint and place the remainder behind his ear. He then slides closer towards you and reaches for your hands once again.

“When you didn’t come see me at the hospital, I knew we were in trouble.” Eddie’s statement is honest and makes your heart ache. “And ever since I was discharged, we tip-toe around each other and it fucking sucks, princess.”

You shut your eyes, trying to fight back the tears you know are about to come.

“Whether you believe my feelings for you are genuine or not, this is not us. This is not who we are. I feel like you’re slipping through my fingers, like I’m losing you.”

“Eddie, that’s… Fuck.” You clear your throat before looking back into his saddened gaze. “This is hard for me to say, uhm. What happened to you was horrendous, there’s no denying. I’m eternally grateful you’re alive and well, but I-I also can’t help feel this resentment towards you. I-I…”

You exhale.

“You think I’m slipping through your fingers and that’s completely valid since I distanced myself again, which broke us last time,” your voice quivers, “But Eddie, I just don’t think you realise how you actually did that. It physically happened. You were dying in my arms a-and the memory of that experience is making it incredibly hard to look at you.”

The expression on Eddie’s face makes it clear your words gutted him. He’s rendered speechless.

Perhaps it’s because of the sad puppy-dog look he was currently sporting, or because back before this entire ordeal you were an inch away from telling him your heart's true tune and that feeling never really went away, you incline closer and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Please don’t ever do that again, okay?” You mutter into his hair as he returns the hug, squeezing me tight. “I’m gonna be completely selfish here and say, I-I can’t go through that again.”

“I-I just wanted to protect you. I wanted to be your hero,” Eddie admits. He sounds defeated.

You pull back ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see his face. “I don’t need you to be my hero, Eddie. I-I just need you to live.”

He nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Then silence falls upon you again, only this time it’s… different.

Eddie’s gaze is searching your own as if it’s a treasure map he’s trying to understand. His grip on you tightens with every passing second and it feels right. It reminds you that he is indeed real. He did survive.

You both survived.

Eddie proceeds to press his forehead to your own and you realise you’ve been holding your breath.

“I-I need you to promise me something too,” Eddie mutters, your lips now mere inches apart. You’re too lost in the moment to speak so he continues. “Promise me you won’t think what I’m about to do next is anything short of how I’ve felt about you for a real fucking long time.”

Every fiber of your being is tingling.

“Promise me, princess.” Eddie’s voice is a mere whisper.

“I promise.”

One soft inhale later, his lips brush yours lightly. Then again with a little more intent, and again, only deeper.

All of the emotions that had been churning rose to the surface and exploded all at once. With every passing second, you melt into him further and he groans, almost in relief.

The kiss gets rougher. You bite his bottom lip, gripping onto the collar of his t-shirt as if your life depended on it. Your lungs are burning. Your entire body shaking in Eddie’s embrace. He holds you by the jaw, fingernails dig into your cheeks as his tongue breaches through your parted lips. You proceed to moan against him, exploring his mouth the same way he was yours.

Then a shiver runs down your spine, causing you to remember where you are and what you were just talking about so you draw back, albeit still rather unwillingly. Eddie meets your slightly surprised gaze and offers you a smile before pecking the bridge of your nose.

As he sits back, hands still holding your face, your mind is racing: Now what?

He kissed you. You kissed him back

Jesus Christ. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. Nervous, excited. And Eddie’s on cloud nine. You tasted better than he remembers. Like cherry chapstick, the scent of which lingers in the air between you.

Though as he’s looking at you, waiting for some sort of positive reaction, a sign that it was just as good for you as it was for him, you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. Well, fucking shit… Now he’s nervous.

“I have to go,” is all you say in a quiet tone before carefully hurrying inside through the open bedroom window.

Eddie blinks. It takes him a minute to register and when he eventually follows you, you’re pacing around the room with your fingers pressed against your temple, repeatedly rubbing circles into your skin. You stop when Eddie whispers your name and he immediately notices how your eyes are glossed over with tears.

His heart drops.

“Shit, princess…” Eddie takes a step towards you. “I’m sorry. I got lost in the moment a-and I should’ve asked first if it was okay to do that. I know better. Wayne taught me to be a gentleman—”

“Eddie,” you interrupt, “Stop. It’s not that.”

His brows furrow. “Are you sure? ‘Cause something has you freaked and your best friend kissing you is a big enough reason why, even knowing I love you.”

“I swear, Eddie. It’s just…” A soft sigh escapes you, “I literally just told you it was hard to be around you, and then we kissed, and now… I’m just feeling a little confused and kinda overwhelmed ‘cause—”

He takes your face in his hands once again, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones.

“Shh…”

“But Eddie, I-I—”

“Please.”

“I-I just,” you hesitate, “Last we kissed, it almost ruined us, so where do we go from here?”

It’s a loaded question. One Eddie was definitely expecting since it’s also crossed his mind every time he thought about acting on his feelings since July of ‘85. So to be completely honest, he has internally rehearsed this scenario maybe a thousand times. Going over all the different outcomes, good and bad.

Nothing prepared him for the real deal, however.

“Pretty girl,” Eddie begins, almost in a whisper, “Shit… Okay. I admit, I kinda sprung my admission on you and then ran off, not the best timing or decision making on my part. I’m sorry. But I-I’ve known I-I loved you ever since the day we said goodbye as you went off to college, but my feelings for you have been more than friendly for much, much longer than that.”

You raise a curious brow as he continues.

“And yeah, perhaps I should’ve told you sooner. Life just kept getting in the way and frankly, I was so fucking scared. Shit, I’m still scared ‘cause I too don’t know where we go from here. All I know is I want you by my side as more than just my best friend, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Slowly, your lips curl into a timid smile while your hands make home on his chest — and he’s sure you can feel his heart hammering with nerves, anticipation and also pure unfiltered joy.

“Which I’m hoping is forever considering how you signed your old letters.”

“Eddie Munson—”

“Wait,” he interrupts before clearing his throat ‘cause suddenly, as he stares so deeply into your eyes, he knows exactly where to go from here, “Let’s leave.”

A confused look spreads across your face. “What?”

“Let’s leave Hawkins, princess.” Eddie states with a little more confidence. “This town has taken a lot away from us and caused us a lot of pain. I think it’s time we count our blessings and leave before something else happens.”

The plan forms in his mind rather quickly and he begins to get excited. Yes, this was a good idea. You both needed to leave and just be yourselves for a while, take back the time that was taken from you and make memories to outlive the bad ones.

“And where do you propose we go, hot shot?”

“Anywhere you want,” he replies immediately as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “We’ve got some cash saved and we’ve got your car, so let’s do a cross-country road trip.”

“Eddie, that’s crazy,” you half-laugh.

He lets go of you and proceeds to reach for the inside pocket of his jacket. He retrieves the remains of a tape you recognised immediately and a certain glimmer lights up your eyes. Eddie can’t help but smile.

“Unfortunately, Vecna’s cursed bats pretty much destroyed my most prized possession,” he began while holding the album between his fingers and lifting it slightly. “Uhm, as you probably know, most of my favourite memories with you are associated with Pearl, so I think we should continue to make more by travelling down to Kentucky then towards the California sun. Stopping of course in New Orleans.”

You briefly bite down on your bottom lip. “Just like in Me and Bobby McGee,” the sentence is quiet, almost a whisper.

Eddie’s smile widens. “So are you in, princess?”

You simply kiss him in response. It’s softer than the last kiss, but equally as passionate, if not more. Eddie’s eyes close instinctively as he holds you close, tape now pressed to your back as he loses himself in the sensation, thinking about how he wants to be able to kiss you forever. And you want that too.

“Eddie,” you mutter against his lips.

“Mhmmm…”

“I love you too.”

pearl masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys , @kurdtbean

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x best friend reader #pearl (eddies version)

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acaaai-t · 8 months

Text

resurface, my love

03. clued

[fem! reader x villain! scaramouche]

cw: angst, blood, scaramouche uses a sword, violence, cursing, death threats, bits of scaras past, attempted murder lol

‘The Fatui’

Scaramouche felt his blood run cold at the sight of the two words. The organization he works for was the last thing he wanted you to get involved in.

He scanned through the rest of the contents, hoping that it was an error in your writings. Scaramouche knew it was futile. You were bound to investigate The Fatui eventually. It was just a matter of time.

His heart only further sank when he saw the folder you’ve created, storing almost everything you knew about the Fatui. Which if presented to a Harbinger like him, even they would claim it was a dangerous lot.

Scaramouche looked high and low, searching for anything that might contribute to your disappearance. He dug through your desk— or whatever remains of your desk, yet nothing, nothing, was found.

Not a single clue as to your disappearance. Scaramouche punched the table in a fit of frustration, adding an extra hole to your already broken desk. He hated feeling like this.

Anxious helplessness tangled with his emotions. He bit down on his lips, the bitter taste of blood blooming in his mouth.

Kazuha seemed to sense Scaramouche’s restlessness. Even Tomo felt unease at Scaramouche’s presence, clambering back onto Kazuha and tucking his small form inside his jacket.

“Scaramouche.”

“What?” even he was startled at his sharp tone. “What…” he tried again, in a calmer voice.

“I was going to suggest asking her coworkers, maybe they would know something.”

Scaramouche frowned. Why didn’t he think of that? They were someone you see on a daily basis, if you were to suddenly disappear, they would be the one to notice first.

He got up, brushing the dust stuck on his knees away. Even though Scaramouche would have liked to organized your room back to how he remembered it to be, he figured it would be best not to temper with evidence.

“Let’s go,” there was no trace of emotion in his voice as he walked passed Kazuha and down the stairs.

…

The streets of Inazuma hadn’t changed one bit from how it used to be. It’s been a while since Scaramouche had walked through the markets filled with merchants selling all sorts of goods.

He missed the days where he would hold you in his embrace so gently, as if you were porcelain that would shatter in nothingness with the wrongest move.

Those days are long gone, he bitterly thought to himself.

A frightful yelp drew his attention away. Scaramouche scowled in annoyance. There was a person standing in his way, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“That’s him!” the old man screeched. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare. “It’s him! He’s The Balladeer, those crimes that happened in our town is all because of him!”

By now a crowd had gathered to see the unfolding spectacle. Kazuha squeezed his way through the crowd and grabbed Scaramouche’s arm.

“Gotta go, fast.”

Scaramouche didn’t need to be told twice. He shook off Kazuha’s hand and began running after him, but not without the citizens chasing after them with anything they could use to attack.

He scowled again when he felt something— it felt like a potato, hit the back of his head. Kazuha had somehow found his way up to the rooftops, and was now hopping over the gaps, following Scaramouche closely. It seemed that the townspeople was only targeting Scaramouche.

“Fucking bitches…” he muttered, drawing out his weapon from the scabbard. He skidded to a stop and pointed the sword at the crowd.

The mob of people instantly slowed, stumbling onto one another for support.

“Somebody really wants to fucking die,” he mused, the tip of his sword dug into the pavement below. It was an old fashion way to fight, but Scaramouche had long grown use to its constant company.

A tomato flew his way, and Scaramouche, with ease, sliced the vegetable in half with a flick of his wrist. “I’m not here to cause shit here. If I was, all of you,” he pointed at the crowd, nodding. “Will be dead.”

“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s voice was urgent as his voice trailed down from the roof. “The Tenryo Commission is coming, we need to go.”

“To hell with them,” Scaramouche scoffed. “They’re so easily destroyable. Just a tiny step on them and they crush like a bug. Pathetic seeing them try.”

“You’re— you’re a monster,” a fearful voice cried out. It was the same person who had exposed him as the Balladeer.

“So I’ve heard,” Scaramouche grinned, sheathing his sword.

Those who hadn’t already fled the scene beforehand began to slither away. When the old man had found himself standing alone, he too, wavered and broke, scrambling away as Scaramouche stared him down. His purple eyes glinted with amusement and malice.

“How pitiful,” Scaramouche laughed. “Haven’t even done anything and they all ran.”

What once was the bustling streets of people was now empty, not a single soul in sight. Well, expect for the people dressed in black and purple running towards him.

Scaramouche clicked his tongue in disapproval. He pulled out his gun, aimed, and was about to pull the trigger when Kazuha stopped him, grabbing his arm. The serious look in his eyes told him no. Scaramouche rolled his eyes and set his gun aside.

“Whatever,” he said. “Let’s go before I feel the need to kill them.”

Kazuha dragged him over to an empty alleyway and pressed a finger over his lips, signaling for Scaramouche to stay quiet.

The group of Tenryo Commission members thundered past the two, with nobody noticing the two suspicious shadows crouching in the corner of the alleyway.

When Kazuha had made sure the coast was cleared, he motioned for Scaramouche to follow him. He deadpanned at Kazuha, watching him scale the walls and jump onto the rooftop.

“Hurry,” Kazuha hissed.

There really wasn’t an option for him to choose from.

“Why can’t I just use—” his words were cut off when a gust of wind started swirling under him before lifting him off the ground completely. Scaramouche froze, and didn’t move until he was down on solid ground again.

“There, that’ll get your slow ass moving,” Kazuha said. He threw a smile at Scaramouche and turned around, silently trailing away towards the direction of the Tenryo Commission. Particles of Anemo danced around him with every step he took.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes and scoffed. The lingering power of Anemo set his steps light as he sprinted after Kazuha, the slight breeze picking at his hair. Scaramouche glanced down at the empty streets. The pests the Commission sent out must’ve cleared the streets of everyone. Stalls were left unattended, the fire of some still left roaring. How hazardous, Scaramouche thought to himself. Would be a shame if I were to…

He snickered to himself, eventually deciding against his actions. There’s no need for Scaramouche to cause any more trouble for himself.

The sight of the Tenryo Commission building was getting closer. With the building being one of the fanciest things the city has build, it was hard to miss it, even if one was just passing by. It was by far the grandest thing the council had ever invest in.

Scaramouche leaped down from the rooftops and landed with a silent poof of air. The entrance to the Tenryo Commission beckoned at him. There were guards pacing around the premise, but they be easily taken care of.

The sky darkened, and the tingling feeling of electricity hung low in the air. Scaramouche took his time walking to greet the nuisances, wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Meanwhile Kazuha began to investigate the surroundings. He was quite certain that somewhere around this area, he could find a trace of you. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Immediately he picked it up as Scaramouche doing something idiotic, again.

He didn’t tried to interfere with whatever Scaramouche had planned. Not only will Scaramouche beat his ass for interrupting him, but it’ll only add fuel to the flames that is already raging uncontrollably.

Kazuha sniffed the air. There was a familiar scent to the wind. He followed where to the breeze led him, and he ended up in an abandoned part of the town. There, everything was run down. Windows were boarded up, doors were bolted shut.

A glint caught his eyes. It was a broken mirror, with droplets of splattered blood dotting the ground around it. Kazuha looked closer at it.

Ah. So that’s what was familiar scent was.

…

The sparks of electro fizzled away into the air, and with that, the bodies of everyone began to drop, one by one. Weapons clattered to the floor as the numbness overtook their vessels. All expect for one.

Scaramouche chucked, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “Oh relax General, they aren’t dead. I’m not that cruel.”

“Don’t move,” Kujou Sara’s voice was stern, unwavering as she stood a distance away from Scaramouche, her bow raised and aimed. Even with the room being near pitch black, she could still see as clear as day.

Scaramouche grinned. “And what are you going to do? Kill me? You know well enough that even if you tried, you’ll still lose.”

The electro vision strung up by her hips glowed fiercely, a sign that she was beyond pissed. Scaramouche’s grin only grew wider. He took a step forward, holding both hands up in the air mockingly.

“Shoot me,” he said. “Do it.”

Sara let an arrow loose at Scaramouche’s words. Infused with the cackling energy of electro, the power alone was enough to knock out four grown adults. The arrow zipped through the air, it’s tip aimed dead at his head.

A crack of Electro came slashing down, effectively slicing the arrow in half. Sara kissed her teeth and lowered her bow. As expected.

“Good try, general. Better luck next time,” Scaramouche laughed. “Now, I believe I came here asking questions, not a fight.”

“What could the Fatui want with us,” she spat out the word Fatui with distaste, hatred clearly rooted in her tone.

“Oh no, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Scaramouche plopped down on the office chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I didn’t come here on the behalf of the Fatui. Do you by any chance…”

He folded his hands together and leaned forward on the messy desk. “…know where [name] is?”

The main entrance banged loudly, it’s hinges trembling with every slam. Muffled voices could be heard shouting from the outside. Sara narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Oh, General, don’t be so tense. I have no intentions of hurting her.”

“Who am I to trust you?” The lock keeping the door jammed cracked.

“I’ll offer you a deal, how’s that? “ he smiled. “You tell me where she is, and I’ll tell you where that girl of yours you’ve been looking for is.”

Sara’s breath hitched.

“Wonderful deal, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve been looking for her for almost what? Three years?.”

Silence.

“I don’t have all day, General. Pick. Lest you want me to go find it myself.”

Pick..

The lock couldn’t support the battering beating its been receiving, and it finally succumbed under the pressure, the doors crashing down with a loud resonating boom.

Sunlight filtered into the dark empty room.

Sara sat there, not a single word uttered. Her eyes bored holes at where Scaramouche had stood. Whatever remains of her bow laid by her feet, and in her her hands, held a crumpled up sheet of paper.

“General? Are you alright? Do you need to seek a medic?”

Gone with the breeze was he, leaving only papers slowly descending to the ground. The pattering footsteps of her underlings echoed in her head as they began scouting the area.

“… In the left drawer, the third one. It holds her resignation letter there.”

Scaramouche raised a brow. “Resignation letter?”

“It was left on my desk yesterday. No sign of [name] when I went to look.”

“Oh?”

“You can go check her office if you don’t believe me, last door to the right of the hall,” Sara said through gritted teeth. She had given away more information that she had intended to.

“Did the cameras capture footage of her handing in letter?”

“Someone sabotaged the security system a few nights ago, it’s still in the process of getting fixed.”

“I see,” Scaramouche mused, tapping one finger against his cheeks. “Mind sharing the footage of the night when it got sabotaged?”

“Now that I cannot give away—”

In a flash, Scaramouche was out of his seat and had Sara by her throat before she could even finish her sentence. “It wasn’t a question,” he hissed, his nails digging into her skin, deep enough to draw blood. “We can either do this the easy way, or we can go the hard way.”

Sara had known about the evil doings of the man holding her in a chokehold, the stories whispered held enough warning to steer clear, but to experience it herself was terrifying. Black spots danced in her vision as her air was abruptly cut off.

“I— I can get it for you,” Sara gasped.

Releasing the women from his grasp, he stepped back and crossed his arms. Sara rubbed at her neck and winced, trying to brush away the pain prickling at her tiny wounds as she clicked away on the computer.

“Here,” she said, handing Scaramouche a USB drive.

“Thank you, wasn’t that hard at all, was it?” he flashed Sara a cold smile before disappearing all together with a swift swoosh of the wind, leaving no traces of there ever being a second person in the room.

She was left alone.

“A resignation letter,” he said, waving the crinkled piece of paper in the air. “And footage of the night the cameras was messed with.”

Kazuha raised a quizzical brow. “A resignation letter?” he echoed. “That’s out of character for her. Oh yeah here, I found this while searching the area.”

He handed Scaramouche the broken mirror. “It was near the abandoned part of town— quite close to where I saw your lover get taken.”

Quite close to where you disappeared.

Scaramouche shoved the USB drive and the letter into his pockets. “Take me there,” he demanded.

Borrowing in the resonance of Anemo from his friend, Scaramouche surged forward just a few steps behind Kazuha. The wind played at his hair, tossing it to the left then to the right. In less than a minute, Scaramouche arrived at the scene.

“Here?”

He scanned the environment. This area does seem like the type of place where people tend to do the unspeakable.

“Here,” Kazuha led him to where he found the item. “Look, that’s the smell of blood.”

Scaramouche got on one knee and took a closer look. With all his years of experience, he should know better than anyone what a scene of crime looks like— and this place, even without there being actual evidence of what took place, aroused heavy suspicion.

What made it worse was that Scaramouche realized that this part of town is what one would call a ‘ghost town’, a place isolated from everyone else, even when it was so close to the lively city. There were no cameras, nothing to record down what had transpired the night you disappeared other than the small droplets of what Kazuha claimed to be blood. Your blood.

It wasn’t that Scaramouche didn’t trust Kazuha’s senses, he had placed full trust in his keen nose. It was one of the prominent reasons why Scaramouche had spared his life that day and allowed Kazuha to work for him. But the thought of you bleeding— wounded, brought up an uncomfortable sensation.

He checked both the front and the back of the mirror, hoping it would show him something he can’t see with his naked eye. Nothing.

“Let’s go back,” he had tried to mask his bitter disappointment, but it was evident. There was no use trying to hide it.

The journey back to your house was swift, thankfully having nobody starting up any more trouble than they were worth for the two. With the sky being dipped in a golden red hue as the sun slowly sets, Scaramouche pushed open the door and gestured for Kazuha to step in.

The house was cold despite Scaramouche having the heater turned on all the way. Kazuha sat on your couch with his cat curled up on his lap, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he read through the resignation letter you left.

“Kazuha.”

“Hm?”

“Did you bring your laptop with you?”

“…no.”

Scaramouche muttered a curse under his breath. “Well I can’t find a laptop in the house. The only one she had probably got destroyed.”

“It’s quite bold of you to assume I would carry such things with me at all times,” Kazuha chuckled lightheartedly. “I can ask for Xiao to bring it over.”

“How fast can he get it here?”

“Depends on his mood, really. But all in all, he’s pretty fast.”

“Have him bring it over. Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Mmhm.”

Scaramouche trailed back into whatever remains of your bedroom and sat down on the broken bed frame. There, his thoughts slowly began consuming him.

How did he manage to mess up? He was gone for only two days. Two days, and something happened to you.

Scaramouche was a careful man, he knew to steer clear of you as to not place harm over your head. If the past were to ever come to light, it’ll only further damage both of your reputations. He bit down on his tongue. Having to shroud the past wasn’t too difficult, Scaramouche had easily blocked it all out. But to bring it back up again hurts.

He buried his face into the palms of his hands. It hurts.

Meow.

Scaramouche looked up, meeting eye to eye with Kazuha’s cat. The tiny feline jumped up onto his lap and yawned, his sharp fangs peeking out. His claws dug into Scaramouche’s skin as he began kneading.

For the past 24 hours he’d been looking nonstop, searching nonstop— fighting nonstop. He hadn’t allowed himself to rest, no. His muscles ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain that had rooted itself deep within his heart. It hurts.

The night he chose to left was ultimately the hardest decisions he had to made. It broke him, but he knows that it’ll hurt you even more than it’ll ever hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Sorry does nothing— nothing.

He wanted to stay. Stay in your tiny bedroom, cuddling with each other as the night gradually fades away into a new dawn. Sometimes he wonders, would things have gone differently if he had stayed?

Idiot, of course it could’ve gone differently.

He should’ve stayed. God, he hated himself for the decisions he had chose. He missed you.

“Scara,” your voice echoed in his head. “Scaramouche.”

He’s spiraling.

He wanted you to leave, to disappear from his mind— but you lingered there, bounded to be a ghost that roamed in his nightmares. No, Scaramouche cannot forget you even if he tried.

Even if his memories were wiped clean, he knows that somehow— just somehow he’ll still recognize you in the sea of strange faces.

It was unbearable.

“Scara…”

Love. Love hurts.

“… Scaramouche.”

His eyes snapped open. “What?”

Kazuha gave him a worried glance. “Xiao’s he— good god are you alright? You look paler than usual.”

He frowned. “I’m… okay. Just tell him to on leave the computer on the kitchen table.”

“If you say so,” Kazuha spared another worrying look at the violet hair man before disappearing downstairs, his cat trotting right next to him.

Scaramouche ran his hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. He can’t stand this anymore, now he’s more determined than ever to find you and tell you all the words he had meant to say before he left.

The USB sitting in his pocket jabbed at him, and his hands closed around it. First things first, examine the clues.

Scaramouche got up and hurried down the stairs, right into the kitchen, where the laptop Xiao had brought was placed on the island. Kazuha was nowhere to be found, but he was sure that the wanderer wouldn’t be gone for too long. After all, Kazuha does play an important role in his hunt for you.

The laptop brightened to life, and Scaramouche hastily plugged the USB into the port. It took a while for the technology to process the information dump, but eventually a file popped up on screen labeled ‘11/16’.

It was the night you disappeared.

His eyes narrowed as the video footage played on. For such a grand company, the quality of both the camera and the video was absolute shit. The time played all the way until near midnight, and that’s when Scaramouche noticed something amiss. He paused the video and took a closer look.

There was no mistaking it. The black shadow definitely wasn’t just the camera acting up— it was someone. Scaramouche felt his heart skip a beat as he rewinded all the way to the footage of two nights ago. He needed to confirm his arousing suspicion.

Pause.

Right there, at 4:21pm. Yep, that was someone, sneaking around the perimeter of the building, looking through windows. Scaramouche fast forward the video by just a little bit, and the camera screen switched, giving him a perfect view of the suspect.

Dressed in all black— not very conspicuous in board daylight, yet nobody seemed to noticed them. He watched as the stranger unlatched one of the many windows and slipped in, completely oblivious as to the fact that they were being recorded.

Scaramouche didn’t need to have footage to prove that the window the suspect had entered through was your office, it was obvious.

The video sped up once again, and the figure appeared back in the camera frame twenty minutes later, looking to be in a rush. In their arms were a duffel bag containing something— if Scaramouche had to guess, it could’ve been case files on something.

But what would they need with the files?

“Reviewing the camera footage already?”

Kazuha’s sudden reappearance made Scaramouche jump.

“Ah, apologies,” he said. “How’s it going? Got any clues yet?”

“Look,” Scaramouche said, pausing the video and pointing to the black figure. “That happened Tuesday morning. Just three days before she… disappeared. And then the next day, the footage crashed.”

Kazuha frowned. “Isn’t that… her office?”

“That is,” he nodded. “Now I don’t know who that person is, or why they barged into her office, but I know that that has something to do with her disappearance.”

Kazuha zoomed in on the stranger's face. While there were a couple of pixels of their face, it definitely wasn’t enough to do a full face analysis on their identity. The only prominent feature was the tiny tussle of blue hair peeking out from the hood. He paused. “What about their letter? Have you found anything odd about it?”

“Haven't checked yet, but I’ve read through it multiple times. The contents just don’t make sense.”

“Hold on, I’ll go find a recent file of hers. We can compare the handwriting. It is a handwritten letter, right?”

Scaramouche nodded, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Tell Xiao I said thanks.”

Tuesday afternoon, someone broke into your office— what they took was unknown. Their identity cannot be confirmed, for they were covered completely, head to toe in black. That was all he had.

He was at a dead end.

Scaramouche groaned in frustration, slamming the computer shut.

It doesn’t make sense.

Why? Why were they unable to see what went wrong? They’d been with you for years— they should know.

Nothing made sense.

What was the motive behind your kidnapping? The criminals you’ve caught is still locked behind bars, cut off from the outside world, meaning they couldn’t have been the one to sought after you. Could it have been the Fatui?

No… Scaramouche would know if it were to happen under the very organization he works for.

And why hasn’t anyone noticed? Even if you were to resign from your position as a detective, you would still be widely recognized if you were out on the streets walking.

According to what Kazuha had gathered over the past months, you were seen outside taking a stroll atleast once a day, even if you were down with the flu. The locals had long adopted your habit— yet nobody, nobody noticed. Not a single person called out on the strange anomaly of your disappearance.

Fucking dammit.

“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s voice brought him back to the present. “So I did an analysis on both, and I thought maybe you’d want to look at it yourself.”

He handed Scaramouche two pieces of paper. One was the resignation letter, the other was a document written on about the Doctor. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Both handwritings matched near identical to each other.

Scribbled along the margins of both papers was Kazuha’s flawless penmanship.

“I’ve written down the differences I noticed, they may not seem very obvious, but it’s there,” Kazuha said.

Scaramouche scanned through the notes, and his frown deepened as he read through it.

“See what I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s really weird.”

‘Hope this finds you well and alive.’

‘Decided to resign due to personal issues…’

Well and alive? That phrase alone was suspicious enough, almost as if you were expecting death to deliver its final blow towards her. Why would you wish death upon someone who had been looking out for you during the years he cannot?

He reopened the computer and clicked on the footage, then brought out the broken mirror he had been given and placed it next to the computer. Kazuha followed by setting down the two documents side by side next to mirror.

Scaramouche took a hard look at the items placed on the table. While everything seemed to be connected in some way, there was just something missing. A good portion of it was still yet to be discovered, and if Scaramouche were to find it— it’ll connect the dots.

“Let’s get this straight, two nights ago someone broke into her office and took something away. We aren’t sure what it was, but I can always go investigate. The only feature we could find on the said suspect was the tiny pixels of blue hair, and that we can’t even confirm if it’s real or just a trick of the camera,” Kazuha said.

“And then on the night your beloved was taken, I didn’t see anything sort of suspicious, other than a couple of buildings exploding. Which leads us to the mirror I found in where I presumed she was taken,” he pointed to the broken mirror. “And the strangely phrased resignation letter she left.”

“The thing is,” Scaramouche spoke up. “Right after that we reach a dead end. Even if you do go to her office, it won’t be guaranteed that you’d find what’s missing. We’re still not looking hard enough, there’s a large chunk that we’re still missing.”

“Scaramouche.”

A soft thump follow by the light pattering of paws against the hardwood floor was heard as Tomo approached the two men. He dropped something on the floor and meowed as he stared into Scaramouche’s eyes.

Kazuha picked up the item that was dropped, and Scaramouche felt his heart drop and blood run cold once again. The look the two shared said more than enough.

He had hoped it wasn’t, but once the evidence was brought into light— there was really no arguing when the truth was placed right in front of him. Something inside of him snapped, and suddenly a turmoil of emotions raged within his mind. There was only one thought consuming his mind as he ran out the house.

He was going to kill that bitch.

previous || series m.list || next

notes—

— I HAVE SEASON ONE AND TWO PLANNED OUT FINALLY after two months of not updating this series 💀

synopsis —

— you, the hero, disappears overnight, and the only person who looks is the villain. Not your friends, not your family, not the news reporter or any of the people who claimed to love you. Just him, Scaramouche, the very same person who claimed to hate you.

taglist — [CLOSED]

@akairaindrops @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @elernity @shayewrites @angel-suicides @magica-ren @kyouzki @nana-bri @avxntxrine @bleedingwhiteroses222 @rainingduringsummer @darthvada @dan9a-00 @omgblade-starrail @kichiyoshi @inufinuf @vvyeislazzy @alatusorrow @franaby @mellowberrie @sketcheeee @etherisy @crmnic @arizzu @vrisso @id3ru @mochicurls21 @kairuthewriter @suqarlaced @saetorii @anura100000 @divinechicha @starlightaura @karablueyt @supercoolusernameomg @uhh-traashyy @kazuuhhaaaa @lumpywolf @chaosinanutshell @ariilovesmoney @ying-writes @pooonyo @sweetsthetik @i-luvyuu @kunikiss @childeishotasf @scaramochi-lover @eynnwwyjth @liliumaraneae @beriiov @cikolata-kozmozu

95 notes · View notes

sollunaastra · 3 days

Note

What do you think their reconciliation looks like?

The words stuck in Aziraphale’s throat like a toffee swallowed too quickly, and he stuttered, before managing to eek out the thing he'd been meaning to say since his departure to heaven with The Metatron. “You know, Crowley… I have done nothing BUT think of you. I have done nothing else. Every spare, blasted moment, I've thought about you, and my heart has broken every single time!” He sighed and threw his hands up in exasperation, turning on the spot, eyes darting around like he was trying to seek a place to run away to.

There was nowhere to hide, though. Not inside the bandstand nor outside of it. Flat tarmac hardly made a good hiding place, after all.

Crowley pursed his lips. He was exhausted, more tired physically than he'd ever really been before. The weight of heartache wore heavy on him, and yet he had managed somehow to soldier on alone for the past who knows how long. He'd stopped counting the days, the hours, the minutes. Shoulders slumped forwards, Crowley blinked and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. A sniffle, and he was turning to leave, boots clicking on the concrete in a way which almost echoed around them, such was the heaviness of the silence.

In a small burst of speed, Aziraphale stepped after Crowley with purpose, extending his hand and grabbing at the Demon's sleeve, then moving his grip to Crowley's arm.

Crowley made no attempt to move away at first. He felt defeated by the entire fiasco. Maybe he should've arggreed to the whole Archduke of Hell thing after all. Maybe then he'd have had the strength to stop coming back. To the bookshop. To their bench. To the bandstand.

“It's okay. “ Crowley broke the silence, wanting his head to the left slightly as he tugged his arm away and out of Aziraphale’s grip. “I forgive you,” he sneered.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale could feel that burn behind his eyes. Such a human show of emotion, hardly befitting a Supreme Archangel of Heaven. “Why can't you see? Why won't you see?”

Trying to grab Crowley's arm again, Aziraphale felt the fabric slip through his fingers. The Demon began to walk away, and that was when Aziraphale started to walk, (it was more of a stomp in truth,) behind him; he kept pace and then sped up as Crowley neared the edge of the circle of tarmac where the bandstand sat.

This time, instead of gripping his arm or sleeve, Aziraphale lunged forwards and got a grip on Crowleys waist. The Angel stubbornly refused to let go, even when he was pushed away. They struggled silently for a moment, before Crowley spoke once more.

“You were- are, I mean, the most important person, angel, whatever. You left me behind for your precious heaven. They're welcome to you.”

Aziraphale felt his heart aching in his chest, a deep longing urging him forwards until he was close enough to spin Crowley round on the spot.

He lunged forwards again, this time intent on getting his lips against Crowley's, which he managed to do semi-successfully. His lips smudged down Crowley's cheek until he was kissing him properly. Aziraphale felt nauseous, his heart drumming angrily in his chest, and, finally, the tears that had threatened to spill from his eyes leaked down his cheeks in heavy rivulets.

Crowley froze. He swallowed thickly, the tear tracks on his own face becoming wet and shiny again as tears poured forth from his ophidian eyes. He stopped struggling and tried to savour the moment, but instead of the joy he should've felt, he felt a deep sense of pining… and deep, soul destroying loneliness, like someone had cut off his limbs and left him for dead.

Aziraphale pressed against the demon, wrapping his arms around Crowley's waist and shoulder alternately, fingers turning white with the effort of holding onto Crowley as his nails dug little crescents into the leather jacket he was wearing.

“Stay,” Crowley whispered into the kiss, finally allowing himself the kindness of kissing Aziraphale back. It was a slow, firm kiss, but slowly devolved into desperation and over 6000 years of pent up frustration. "Please..."

The Angel eventually pulled back from their kiss, but not before they were both tear streaked and breathless, panting and holding onto each other like the other might discorporate suddenly if either let go.

“I'm not leaving you. Not again. Not ever. I love you, Crowley. I love you so much. It feels like my heart is going to burst. ”

"I love you too, 'Ziraphale, I love you."

#this is soppy as fuck wxcuse me.getting sentimental #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow

22 notes · View notes

kpop-stories-21 · 1 year

Text

Oh, How I Wish That Was Me

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader, Yeosang x Reader

Requested by: @sanjoongie

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres + AUs: Non-Idol AU, Romance AU, Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst

Content & Trigger Warnings: New model!Reader, Famous model!Yeosang, Barista!Wooyoung, strong language, hanahaki disease, jealousy, reader is completely oblivious, Yeosang is a bit stuck up, poor Woo is down bad, pining, poorly handled emotions, heartbreak, broken friendship, small blood and vomit warnings at the end

Summary: Lee Y/N has been Jung Wooyoung's best friend since they were toddlers, and his crush since they were in middle school. Wooyoung's other friends have urged him many times to just tell Y/N how he feels, but Wooyoung is too afraid of losing Y/N as a friend. One day a model named Kang Yeosang catches Y/N's eye, and everything begins to fall apart.

Tags: @kpop---scenarios @umbralhelwolf @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @skeletor-ify @biaswreckingfics @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre

Network pings: @cacaokpop-fics | @kdiarynet

Inspiration: "I Wish" by One Direction (title is from the lyrics)

This oneshot is my entry in @cultofdionysusnet 's Meet Me Under The Cherry Tree event

A/N: If you liked this work and want to request your own oneshot, click the link above to see what prompts are left!

MDNI banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Event Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"A person doesn't know true hurt and suffering until they've felt the pain of falling in love with someone whose affections lie elsewhere." - Rose Gordon

"Yah, Jung Wooyoung, wait for me!" You yelled breathlessly, struggling to keep up with the red-haired male's faster pace.

"Walk faster Y/N-ah!" He called over his shoulder with a teasing grin. "Last one inside has to pay for lunch!"

Breaking into a light jog, you hurried to catch up to your friend, but he was too far ahead and made it into the café first. Letting out a sigh, you slowed your pace a little so you wouldn't slip on an unseen patch of ice. Once you entered the quaint building Wooyoung greeted you with a bright smile.

"Look who finally showed up!"

Upon seeing your glare he burst into cackling laughter, prompting you to whack his arm repeatedly until he calmed down enough that the other patrons stopped staring at him.

"You're such an attention whore, I don't know how we're still friends." You said, only half serious. Wooyoung was an attention whore, but you didn't know how you'd have survived without him as your closest friend.

"You know you love it." He sassed. You just rolled your eyes and left it at that.

After the two of you ordered and received your food, Wooyoung spoke up.

"So, what's it like being a model?"

You felt the beginnings of a giddy grin lift your cheeks. "I love it! Don't get me wrong, it's demanding and stressful, but the fact that this is what I've always wanted to do makes it all worth it."

Pride filled Wooyoung as he listened to you gush about your job; how nice the other models were, how helpful your agent has been, and how much fun you had during the shoots. If only one of you got their dream job, he was glad the universe chose you. You'd worked so hard to get to this point, and you deserved to be this happy.

"Have you made any friends yet?" He inquired after both of you had finished eating.

You nodded enthusiastically. "I have actually! Seonghwa, my agent, introduced me to one of the company's top models. His name is Yeosang and he's actually a year younger than me, believe it or not. He's so hot I thought I was going to melt right then and there, but somehow I managed to keep myself together, and we hit it off right away!"

And there it was: the tightness that manifested in Wooyoung's chest every time you talked about a guy you were interested in. He knew he really didn't have any reason to be jealous when you weren't even aware of his feelings, but he'd liked you for so long that it was almost second nature at this point; you talked about a guy and he was automatically jealous. Most times he hid his reaction behind a joke or a change of subject, and today was no different.

"He's not hotter than me, is he?"

You giggled at the pout on Wooyoung's face and patted his hand reassuringly. "No one could be hotter than you Woo, but Yeosang's a close second."

Wooyoung's heart raced upon hearing you call him hot, but he managed to keep his composure.

"Whew, thank goodness." He said with a grin, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead.

Your laugh was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. The call was from Seonghwa, so you answered it immediately and prayed that he had good news.

“Hey Hwa, what’s up?”

“I have some great news Y/N! Yeosang’s agent saw how well you two got along and has suggested having you do a shoot together.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. A brand new model doing a shoot with the company’s best was practically unheard of, but you knew better than to turn it down. This could be a needed spark to kickstart your own rise in the public eye.

“Wow, that’s awesome!” You exclaimed, lips breaking into a wide grin.

“It’s a wonderful opportunity.” Seonghwa agreed. “Are you able to come back to the company right now? Yunho wants to finalise the details as soon as possible.”

You nodded, then remembered he couldn't see you. “Yeah, I just finished having lunch with Wooyoung. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You hung up and turned to Wooyoung with an apologetic smile. You absolutely hated how little time you had to spend with your friends these days, but you had known when you signed the contract how busy you’d become and you didn’t regret it one bit.

“Duty calls?” Wooyoung questioned.

“Yeah. Remember that model named Yeosang I was telling you about?”

Wooyoung nodded.

“Well, Seonghwa just informed me that Yeosang’s agent wants us to do a shoot together.”

“Wow. That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s a wonderful opportunity.” You told him, echoing Seonghwa. “This could really kick off my career.”

Wooyoung smiled warmly and stood to pull you into a tight hug. “Look at my bestie going places already. You won’t forget little old me once you’re all famous, will you?”

You laughed and lightly punched his shoulder. “As if. You’d never let me.”

Wooyoung’s grin turned mischievous. “True.You need somebody to keep you from getting the big head.”

You punched his shoulder again and grabbed your bag. “I should probably go before Seonghwa sends the cavalry after me. Call you later?”

Wooyoung pocketed his phone and followed you out. “Sure thing. Have fun!”

That evening Wooyoung was hanging out with his friends San, Mingi and Hongjoong when the subject of you and your modelling came up.

“Is she still enjoying it?” Hongjoong asked.

Wooyoung smiled fondly. “Yeah, she loves it. It’s so cute the way she can talk about it nonstop for as long as you let her.”

“You’re so whipped dude.” San declared. “I don’t know how Y/N hasn’t figured it out yet.”

Wooyoung’s smile faded a little. “She’s always been a bit oblivious to things like that…” He was silent a moment before continuing. “She told me today she’s met someone in her modelling company. Apparently he’s their top model and she kept gushing over how hot he was. Then right before we left her agent called saying this guy’s agent wanted them to do a shoot together.”

Hongjoong frowned. “She serious about him yet?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I doubt it, she just met the guy.”

“You should tell her how you feel before she gets really involved with him.” Mingi advised, eyes looking slightly worried. “I hate seeing you mope around whenever she dates someone.”

Wooyoung sighed.”I don’t see the point. It’s unlikely she sees me as anything more than her best friend.”

“You won’t really know till you tell her though.” San pointed out.

Wooyoung just sighed again. “I’ll think about it. Can we change the subject please?”

The three friends exchanged a concerned look over Wooyoung’s head before complying and talking about other things.

A month passed with you and Wooyoung not getting to interact much at all. The photoshoot with Yeosang was a massive success, rocketing you up the ranks as countless brands and companies all fought for a chance to have you model their products.

Wooyoung looked through the released pictures because he knew you would ask his thoughts next time you saw each other, but every minute of it was absolutely painful. You looked so good with Yeosang, who was far more attractive than Wooyoung had imagined. The theme of the shoot was extremely romantic since Valentine’s Day was right around the corner, and the photographers had put you and Yeosang in multiple couple’s poses, even going so far as to have him kiss your cheek. It was all Wooyoung could do not to scroll through the pictures at the speed of light.

A few weeks after the photoshoot Wooyoung was working his usual shift at the café near his apartment when a familiar face appeared. Your style had gotten more polished and expensive since you’d become an ambassador for a couple of popular brands, but he still recognized you. He’d know that heart-stopping smile anywhere.

"Hey there stranger! Long time no see." He greeted you with a smile.

Your head shot up in surprise, probably forgetting this was his shift. “Oh my God, Woo! I totally forgot this was when you worked!” You slipped behind the counter to give him a hug.

Wooyoung laughed. “I don’t blame you one bit, Miss Superstar.”

You blushed at the nickname. Then suddenly, as if remembering something you’d forgotten to tell him, you turned and motioned for a figure near the door to come join you. The red-haired male hadn’t even noticed them at first, but as they came closer Wooyoung was met with none other than the very man who’d held you in his embrace for the whole world to see.

“Wooyoung, I’d like you to meet Yeosang. Yeo, this is Wooyoung. He’s been my best friend since we were little.”

Wooyoung’s teeth caught hold of his cheek as he fought to keep the smile on his face. “So this is the infamous Yeosang. I’ve heard a lot about you” He said, extending his hand. Yeosang shook it, expression unreadable.

“I’ve heard a great deal about you as well.”

God, his way of speaking was as smooth and formal as his looks. No wonder you looked at him like he’d hung the stars. Not for the first time, Wooyoung wished you would look at him like that.

“We’re having a well-deserved coffee date before the next batch of promotions rolls around and we get super busy again.”

Wooyoung tasted blood on his tongue as he bit deeper into his cheek. If you weren't currently busy, why hadn’t you asked to hang out or at the least dropped by his apartment? He’d never classed himself as a particularly clingy friend, but he would’ve liked to see or talk to you at least once after a whole month with little to no contact.

“I see.” Was all he said before asking what you and Yeosang wanted to order. The last thing he wanted was to let his feelings get the better of him and start a whole big fight right there in the café. He pretended not to see your confusion at how stiff he was being, or how one look from Yeosang had you smiling again within seconds.

As he moved about the back preparing things, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Changbin, a friend of his from highschool who also worked at the café.

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

Wooyoung shook his head. “No, but I’ll be alright. Not like I haven’t been through this before.”

Changbin felt for his friend. If didn't know how upset the redhead would get, he’d be very tempted to march right up to you and knock that obliviousness out of your head just so Wooyoung could stop hurting. But Wooyoung had begged Changbin and his other friends not to get involved, saying if he could still be friends with you it would be enough.

“You sure you’re good?” Chan, the café’s owner, piped up as walked over. “She’s never brought a guy here before.”

Changbin glared at the older man, whose ears reddened in embarrassment.

“Right, I’mma just keep my mouth shut and uh…go check our inventory!”

Wooyoung chuckled as he watched Chan flee his boyfriend’s wrath.

“I’ll be fine, Binnie. I promise.”

Changbin eyed him seriously. “If you would just tell her how you feel before they get really serious, you wouldn’t have to go through this again.”

Wooyoung examined his shoes disinterestedly as he repeated what he’d told the guys a month earlier. “I’ll think about it.”

Changbin's eyebrow rose, obviously seeing through the words, but he let Wooyoung go and didn't speak on it.

As he finished up the order for you and Yeosang, Wooyoung found his friend's words echoing in his head. Maybe they were right, maybe confessing to you would change things. It was worth a shot, right? At the very least you would understand why he'd never liked any of the boyfriends you'd had over the years.

The Cherry Blossom Festival was this weekend, he remembered, and decided that would be the perfect way to tell you how he felt. After all, didn't cherry blossoms symbolise new beginnings?

So when you came to get the tray from him, he stopped you.

"Are you free this weekend?" He asked.

"Yeah, schedules don't pick back up till next week. Why?"

"Since we haven't been able to hang out for a while, I was wondering if you would go to the Cherry Blossom Festival with me."

A sweet smile lit your face and Wooyoung felt his heart sing. "Of course Woo. I want to know about everything I missed!"

Wooyoung laughed and released the tray, watching as you returned to the booth with Yeosang. He said a silent prayer to any god who might be listening that things would go smoothly this weekend.

The next day Wooyoung was woken at an obscenely early hour by the ringing of his cell phone. He almost didn't answer it in the haze of being barely awake, but then decided to pick up in case it was you calling for something.

"Hello?"

"Good morning." A crisp, unfamiliar voice filled his ears. "I am trying to reach a Mr. Jung Wooyoung in regards to a job offer."

Wooyoung jolted into a sitting position, feeling suddenly wide awake. "This is Jung Wooyoung." He replied, heart pounding.

"Ah, excellent. Mr. Jung, my name is Lim Inseo and I am the principal of Minjeon Elementary School in Seoul. I am calling to inform you that your teaching application has been accepted and we have a spot waiting for you if you are still interested."

Wooyoung felt a thrill shoot through him, the elation stronger than any caffeine rush. There was just one problem: what if you accepted his confession this weekend? Your modelling career was finally kicking off, you couldn't just pack up and move with him to Seoul on such short notice.

It was with a somewhat heavy heart that he spoke into the phone. "That's wonderful news Mr. Lim. However, a possible conflict has sprung up since I applied for the position. I should know by this weekend if I will be able to accept, would that be too late?"

"Not at all!" Mr. Lim told him. "Classes don't start until next month, so you'll still have plenty of time to put together your lesson plans, should you accept. On behalf of the school, I look forward to hearing from you Mr. Jung. I hope you have a good rest of the day."

Once Wooyoung hung up, he sat on the edge of his bed with a wide grin. Maybe you wouldn't be the only one to get their dream job after all.

After work that day he met up with his friends at Hongjoong's place and told them the good news.

"That's great Woo!" San exclaimed, dimples on display as he grinned broadly.

"What about Y/N?" Chan and Changbin asked almost simultaneously.

"We're going to the Festival this weekend, and I'm gonna tell her. Depending on her answer, I'll either accept or decline the offer."

Cheers and whistles sounded from all of them, thrilled that Wooyoung was finally going to make his feelings known.

"I hope she says yes." Mingi declared. "Even if it means losing the teaching position, you deserve a happy ending as much as the rest of us."

Wooyoung felt his cheeks begin to ache from all the smiling and laughing he'd done that day. He couldn't remember the last time he'd truly been this happy.

Upon returning to his flat, he found a couple of missed texts from you and went to read them right away. The messages were short, just letting him know that Friday wouldn't work because another model had gone into early labour so you were covering her shoot that day. Saturday would still be free for you though, barring some last minute emergency.

Wooyoung texted back, letting you know Saturday worked fine for him and that he would see you then.

That night he slept soundly, his head full of the most wonderful dreams with you at the centre of each one. It seemed like his life was finally starting to come together, and for the first time in years he began to feel as if maybe, just maybe, you liked him as much as he liked you.

He'd give up his dream job a thousand times over if it meant getting to spend the rest of his life with you by his side, starting a family together and living happily ever after like the two of you were in one of those fairytales he'd heard as a kid.

When he awakened Saturday morning the whole thing felt almost too good to be true, as if any moment now he'd truly wake up and find all of this had been just another dream. He made a point not to think about what might happen if you rejected him. The last thing he wanted was to ruin his mood before anything even happened.

Wooyoung spent the morning lazing about, saving his energy for the time spent with you. At ten till four he began to get ready, knowing that it took 30 minutes to get from his place to yours, and another half an hour from your place to where the Festival was being held.

He put on a black button-up, black trousers and black loafers. Examining his reflection in the mirror, he smiled. He looked nice, but still casual. Grabbing his phone and wallet, he locked the door and began the drive to your apartment.

When Wooyoung pulled into the driveway, he found you standing in the doorway expectantly. You wore a pretty pink blouse and soft grey skinny jeans, with white sandals and a white bag completing the look. You looked amazing, and Wooyoung had to work hard not to just sit and stare at you.

You smiled at him as you slid into the passenger seat.

"Ready to go?" He asked. You nodded, and he began backing out of your driveway.

The drive to the Festival was, simply put, torture. Wooyoung had made the mistake of being polite and asking how Yeosang was, and for the entire half hour you spoke endlessly about how much you enjoyed spending time with him, how nice he was to you, and how he was constantly buying expensive things for you.

Every word was like another knife in Wooyoung's already wounded heart, and by the time he parked at the Festival venue he felt ready to fall apart. But the two of you were meant to have fun tonight, so he would do his best to make sure you didn't see his distress.

Despite how the evening began, things quickly began to look up. The Festival turned out to be quite fun, with attractions for people of all ages. By the time the sun went down you and Wooyoung had played several games, eaten delicious food from the food trucks, and participated in several cherry blossom themed activities. With the moon now overhead, there was only one thing left for Wooyoung to do: take you under the cherry blossoms and confess his feelings.

Standing under the many blossoms, now bathed in silver from the celestial lights, Wooyoung felt a surge of courage and opened his mouth to speak. But just then, you interrupted him.

"I know you have something you wanna tell me, I've felt you vibrating all evening, but I have something to tell you too and I'd kinda like to share mine first. If that's okay, of course."

Wooyoung swallowed hard, a pit of dread rising in his stomach. "Sure, go ahead."

You took a deep breath, then blurted out "Yeosang asked me to be his girlfriend!"

Pain. That was the first thing he felt when the words left your lips. The agony of a sensation akin to a thousand burning knives stabbing and tearing through his chest. He coughed, alarmed by the sudden lack of air in his lungs. Wooyoung sucked in a sharp breath, and the pain suddenly evaporated. Straightening, he looked into your concerned eyes and smiled weakly.

"Sorry, a bug flew into my mouth." Taking another breath, he added "I'm so happy for you Y/N. You two will make a great couple."

You smiled broadly. "Thanks. Now, what were you going to tell me?"

He couldn't go through with it now. He could not, in any good conscience, tell you he loved you when you had just become someone else's girlfriend. All he could do now was change what he told you and shove the feelings deep down like he'd always done.

"You remember when I applied for that teaching position? Well I, um, I got the job."

"Oh my God, really? Woo that's amazing! Look at us, both getting our dream jobs. Best friends indeed!"

Best friends. The words stung his ears like an angry wasp and he just wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Looking at the cherry blossoms all around, Wooyoung felt a cynical laugh bubble up in his throat. This was a new beginning alright, just not the one he'd wanted.

"Yeah, I'm excited about it. The only thing is that the school is in Seoul, which means I'll be moving soon."

"Awww I'll miss you." You whined, pouting a little.

"I'll miss you too Y/N." Wooyoung replied, though he wasn't entirely sure he really meant it.

Later that night, after dropping you off and returning home, Wooyoung filled his friends in via a group call while drowning his sorrows in some alcohol he'd found in the fridge. All his friends expressed their sympathy for him not getting to confess to you, and also their excitement over his new job. They all offered to help him pack over the next couple days and he immediately accepted, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts just yet.

Next morning he was awakened by Hongjoong gently shaking him. The older male's hands held some aspirin and a bottle of water, both a welcome sight to Wooyoung's hungover brain. Once the redhead was upright and coherent, Hongjoong smiled softly.

"Ready to start packing?" He asked.

Wooyoung emptied the water bottle and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Three years later

Wooyoung let out a sigh as he entered the small apartment, dropping his keys and briefcase on the counter as he reached up to remove his glasses and loosen his tie.

The children had been more rowdy than usual today, and he was quite ready for a break. Running a hand through hair that was now black as night, he headed to his bedroom for a warm shower and a change to some comfier clothes.

He'd kept close contact with his friends over the years, and maintained some semblance of friendship with you as well. He never gave up hope that things would end up not working between you and Yeosang, so that he could finally tell you how he felt.

Stretched out on the couch, Wooyoung began to scroll through Instagram, liking his friends' pictures as he caught up with the day's news. And then he saw it.

The picture was of your own slender hand, a gorgeous diamond ring decorating the fourth finger. Below it you had added the caption "I said yes!"

It was at that moment that Wooyoung knew for sure: you would never be his.

Pain. It was just like the pain he'd felt under the cherry blossoms all those years ago, only this time it was much worse. He felt something clawing at his throat and the urge to vomit rose within him. He raced to the bathroom, feeling as though he was being torn apart from the inside.

Crouched over the toilet, Wooyoung began to heave and heave until the pain subsided. When he could breathe again, he leaned over to see what had caused such torment and felt his whole body go cold.

There, filling the toilet bowl almost to the brim, was a mass of flower petals and thorny vines. He knew exactly what it meant, and it was yet another confirmation that you and he would never be.

"Hanahaki disease." He muttered, voice raspy from the abuse of the thorns. Dribbles of blood decorated his lips as he smiled wryly. "Three years was good, I guess. My only regret is never telling Y/N I loved her. Maybe in our next life things will be different."

Having made his peace with things, Wooyoung stood to his feet and went to tell his family and friends that he was dying.

29 notes · View notes

ahqkas · 2 years

Text

𝐨𝐨𝐨. PROVING THE POINT ; jill valentine

pairing! jill valentine x fem!reader

synopsis! being stuck in an unfamiliar mansion with your girlfriend while flesh eating creatures were roaming the insides of the building wasn't exactly the most appealing scenery but you and jill always found a way to enjoy each other

warnings! smut !! oral (r recieving), vaginal fingering, praise, gun (trailing down your skin nothing more i swear), swearing, badly written smut scene 🥹🥹 lmk if i missed smth <3

word count! 1.4k

notes! for mari 🫶 liking, reblogging & commenting is deeply appreciated !!

You lost the knowledge of the time but one thing you surely knew was that your life depended on how fast you could run at this moment. Your lungs never inhaled that much air at once, which made them burn and you couldn't feel your legs as they carried you as fast as they could. Hell, the relaxing vacation you're gonna take when you get out of this fucking fantasy world will probably be really expensive, but you deserve it for surviving the pure agony.

Getting stuck in a large mansion wasn't in your plan. Let's be honest, you'd be jumping high into space if you got stuck there with Jill (because who wouldn't, that woman was everyone's dream and fantasy) Valentine by your side but the addition in a form of flesh eating creatures was taking all the joy away, leaving you in your current situation.

It sucked.

While trying to be as quiet as possible, your boots were making it impossible as you ran through the hallway from the unexpected herd that was cornering you just five minutes ago. The groans leaving your lips were echoing in the air as well but you ignored all the noise and focused on breathing while trying to find Jill.

The worst case scenario happened like an hour ago when you and the Valentine woman got separated from each other and you were left alone to worry sick for her and your being. It's not like she couldn't take care of herself, in fact, she was more than capable in doing that. But the thoughts of never seeing her pretty eyes or kissing her full lips were unbearable and it hurt to even think about it. No, Jill was perfectly fine. She was alright and tomorrow you're gonna be together again, the mansion passed quickly in your thoughts behind you like the first snow touching the freezy ground.

You were not focused on the harsh reality and it got you fast when you felt someone's hand tugging at your biceps, pulling you into a storeroom with the sound of closing doors. Your breath got heavier as you leaned your palms onto your knees and bend at your waist, as if it would help catch the large gulps of air into your lungs faster. You felt a hand touch you shoulder and stay there, showing you comfort in the rough moment.

After your breathing slowed down a little, you looked up at the person in front of you and if not for the lack of air a minute ago, it would be gone by now again. Jill Valentine was towering over you with concern in her gentle eyes and her left hand firmly gripping your right shoulder. Your eyes skipped over her face and when you found no serious injuries, you calmed down and raised to your full height. There was a cut adorning her eyebrow but it didn't look serious, along with patches of blood on her clothes that probably weren't hers. Her somehow untamed hair was getting into her eyes and covering her sight of you but she still got a clear view of your frame and the sudden feeling of relief was the best emotion she's got to feel the entire night. The grip on her Beretta tightened, making her knuckles go white and you got the sight of her tensed hands quickly into your mind before they could relax.

"Fucking hell, [Name], you alright? You gave me quite a scare when I couldn't find you."

Jill's words went unnoticed by you and you would feel bad if it wasn't for your near death experience a while ago. This wasn't the best time to feel this way for sure but it was now or maybe never. Who knows, you could be either getting railed by Jill at the end of the week anytime you're in the mood or enjoying yourself in the afterlife with a bunch of idiots on your tail.

"You have no idea how glad I am to have found you."

And with that you grabbed your girlfriend's face into your palms like the most precious thing to ever hold and hovered your lips dangerously close to hers, feeling almost all her desire from her close proximity. Jill's hand found its place on the waistband of your cargo pants and tugged by it so you could be closer than before and let the warmth of her body envelops yours like a blanket.

"Then prove it."

The words of consent dripped from her lips like a fine honey and you wanted to devour the sweet liquid like she deserved. Closing the short distance between you, you pressed your lips against hers in a heated kiss and sealing the promise of tomorrow by the action. Her hands were roaming your figure as if trying to remember the path of your body and you let her because she did it the best. You were sure you were hot on the touch and Jill knew it as well, the only thing keeping you grounded from her was the cold of her gun pressing into the skin of your waist.

You shivered and the meaning of your action didn't go unnoticed by the woman in front of you. She was making you feel this type of a way and she was proud of herself. Her hand, that still wasn't busy holding her beloved gun, went to rest on the side of your neck in a gently hold. "I want you as much as you want me, sweetheart."

"Jill, for the love of gods, don't stop."

Her lips formed a smile on her face, one that you could tell was showing her true happiness, even in the backstory of your situation. You wanted her right now and the room couldn't be more fitting as the restless wouldn't interrupt the time with the joy and pride of your woman.

Your cargo pants were resting at your knees by now and your breathing slowed down like it did before as you watched Jill's fingers disappear in your panties. You pressed your lips against her soft ones once again in a messy kiss, your hands holding her face and directing her to sync with your movements as you felt your girlfriend touch you, bringing you nothing but pure satisfaction.

The moans she got out of you echoed in the storeroom but the sound didn't seem to attract any dead beings so Jill encouraged you softly to continue for her by moving her fingers faster and deeper inside of you, hitting your soft spot every single time with more determination to bring you to heaven. Every time you felt her fingers linger in a second longer than before, every time she kissed you harder and breathed a groan into your mouth with a bunch of curses at how good you were, you really did feel at heaven. And you could thank Jill for that.

You broke away from her lips when you felt like you were reaching your peak and lowered your head with tightly closed eyes, your chest heaving with every breath you took and your legs shook from the pleasure your partner was putting you through. She was so good at this, it should be considered as her talent because the only one you'd come to was Jill and you had no shame in admitting that.

Your mind was shutting down when you felt the liquid of white gushing out of you and covering Jill's fingers. You forgot everything about the background, there were no zombies trying to make a dinner out of you and you weren't fighting for your very own life. You were locked in a picture with Jill and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Bringing you to the reality was the barrel of the cold Berretta under your chin as your head was slowly raised by the gun so you were left staring into Jill's blue eyes. Your head was spinning from the turn of events but you still saw her as clearly as a day. She was smiling lazily and there was a relaxing glimpse in her pretty eyes as she sucked her fingers clean.

"You did so good, [Nickname]."

You secured the pants around your hips with a little struggle. "Always for you, don't want to disappoint you, Valentine."

Jill offered you a chuckle and a shake of her head. "I guess you own me a nice dinner after our little show. You don't want to fall behind, do you?"

"I guess I do."

Now you just have to make it out alive from this hell. And you would.

#jill valentine x fem!reader #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine imagine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine fluff #jill valentine fic #jill valentine blurb #jill valentine resident evil #resident evil jill #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil #resident evil fluff #jill valentine #dahlia.nsfw

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ga-u-1737 · 3 months

Text

The Silent Idol: Stuck in a mind of Stardom

Chapter 3

Crimp placed the cooked syrup pancakes on the table next to Veneer, adding a fruity face of blueberries and cutted strawberries on the top.

“Sorry this took so long, I was trying to make it more appealing and how do I say this…more happy?” Crimp said, hopping off of the table.

The pancakes looked delicious, warm and steaming with the fruit providing the sweetness to compliment the savory batter of the food.

Veneer looked at the dish, hearing his stomach growl and yell with hunger and starvation. He didn’t eat dinner yesterday, still shaking the awful thoughts of the situation his sister is in. But he needs to eat, he can’t leave without an empty stomach, he has to be there for Velvet somehow.

He fixed his posture and slowly ate the pancakes, the flavorful taste filled around his mouth as he tasted every bite. The syrup sweetness mixed with the berries made him slightly better.

He placed his fork down as he finished the last bit of his food. He felt a little better with the breakfast Crimp made lifting his mood up a little He’s still shaken with the vents of the Rage Dome Show, but the pancakes had a slight effect on him and help him calm down his emotions of the whole ordeal

“Thanks for the meal Crimp,” Veneer said, putting down his utilities

He took a sigh of relief and got up from his seat, grabbing his purse and walking towards the door.

He hoped that everything will turn out okay, hoping that Velvet is okay and would make an easy recovery and her injuries aren’t as bad as he thinks.

“Please be okay Velvet, I’m really worried.” Veneer thought to himself, heading out the door.

The busy streets were bustling, speedy cars were racing across the road, people were catching buses trying to get to the place they were heading to. Traffic noise was loud and eerie, with horns and honking and engines driving.

Flying speedy cars were chasing around the unsteady road, which is usually driven by immature teenagers and young adults, it was either frustrating for other Mount Rageons walking

“I’m walking here you know!”

“Slow down, I’m trying to cross!”

“Those damn teenagers...”

The active atmosphere was filled with activity, noise, and movement, the howling wind drifting making the trees swift sway(If there are trees that is), making it difficult to focus sometimes.

Trying to ignore the wild chaos, Veneer slowly walked through the crowded streets; a lot of people noticed him walking around, some were even a bit shocked and surprised.

It was clearly unusual and new for him to walk in the routes of Mount Rageous, he usually drove around his limbo or mostly stayed inside, stepping onto the frantic freeways was quite hard and difficult for him to do.

But that didn’t bother him that much, his mind still filled with Velvet’s condition wondering how she was. He was excited to see her again but was a bit nervous at the same time.

He hadn't seen her since the accident and wasn’t sure if he was ready for him to see her in an injured state. He prayed that everything would be okay for his only sister’s well-being.

"Please be alright...please be alright sis." He thought to himself.

He wasn’t able to think further as he found himself standing in the waiting room, he quietly sat down in an empty chair patiently waiting for an update from his sister

The atmosphere was heavy, making him feel uneasy. He scanned around the room that full of other people either also visiting from their loved ones or friends, or just coming back in after they passed away. Veneer didn't want to go through that, having to see sister again only for her to die on the hospital bed.

He sighed slowly, trapped inside his own thoughts again, everything seemed chaotic and noisy, but his concern was the only thing at the forefront.

The thought of what he might see made him anxious and hesitant, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of not being by her, especially during a event like this. He quickly fixed his composure and grabbed one of the fashion magazines near him, hoping to distract himself for a bit.

“Hey,I’m here to see Velvet?” A random voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The familiar appearance with short purple hair and violet eyes caught his attention. He looked more closely at her, his eyes quenched, he didn’t recognize at first until he realized who it was.

Orchid.

She was standing beside the reception desk, her eyes darting across the room quite frantically, face of worry and troubleness as if she was looking for something important to her.

“Yes, miss?” The receptionist said, typing on her computer, “You wanted to visit who?”

“Um, oh! Yes, I’m here to visit Velvet.” Orchid sputtered,

“Are you a family or close friend or…”

“Partner!” She shouted before she saw everyone looking at her, “Sorry, I’m her girlfriend.”

The receptionist nodded her head, typing quickly on her computer. “You can sit next to him, he’s also visiting her at the moment.”

Orchid immediately spotted Veneer and sat right next to him, she fixed her posture to look nice and kind.

After all, she is visiting one of the two famous superstars and is dating one of them…in secret that is.

It was a bit awkward to say the least, seeing your sibling's partner and being next to each other made it if not a bit uncomfortable. Especially since you and the partner haven't met and talked at all.

But this was a bit surprising to Veneer, first thing he noticed was she wasn’t all crazy and fangirly when she saw him, mostly she was because she was a huge fan of him and his sister like mostly everyone who was at their concerts and meet and greets, and when she realized she was dating her favorite celebrity, she went absolutely feral.

But today? She was not like this, acting calm, hushed and seemed like a different person almost . Of course she was worried and sad after hearing about the Rage Dome Show, but wasn’t hysterically crying or sobbing,

“Hey.” she started, hoping to gain a conversation with him.

“Um…Hey” Veneer spoke quietly, also barely making contact. “I suppose you're also visiting Velvet as well.”

She nodded her head in response, “Of course when I heard about the accident I was shocked like everyone else, I was there seeing it all.” Veneer averted away in embarrassment

“What I mean is that I was definitely upset and saddened about what happened and I wanted to see her to see if she’s alright or at least alive.” Orchid chuckled nervously, she clenched her hands with a bag of flowers, and a ‘Get Well soon’ card stabled on it.

Veneer saw the flowers and the card Orchid had, curious as to why she brought them.

“Is there a reason why you bought those flowers and a card?” he asked.

“I just thought Velvet might like them.” She responded, showing the gifts. “Heard that she likes roses, especially the ones that are blooded red, so I went through a lot of flower shops to find the exact kind of roses she would like, and I made the card myself.”

Veneer took the roses from Orchid, admiring them a bit.

“These roses look lovely Orchid, I'm sure that Velvet would love them” He slightly smiled.

Orchid answered with a nod and a big smile on her face. She hoped that her gift will make Velvet feel better and make her forget about the accident a little bit, even though she obviously won't.

“Do you know if Velvet is gonna be okay?” Orchid asked.

“I don't know.” Veneer answered, “Visiting hours were almost over and the nurse told me that she was gonna update me about her.” He shook his head slightly, worried. “I just hope that she is gonna be okay.”

“Is there a Veneer and Orchid here?” A doctor walked into the waiting room, holding a clipboard full of notes and documents of Velvet and her health, “Veneer and Orchid?”

“We’re here,” Orchid immediately responded, holding Veneer’s hand as approached the doctor, eager to hear about her health.

Veneer took a deep breath, calming down his nerves before asking about Velvet. She didn’t want him to see him full of panic and distress but he also wanted to see if she is at least okay and not dead.

“Are there any updates on my sister?’ He inquired, the worry clearly on his face "Is she gonna be okay?”

The doctor looked down at the notes, reading them carefully. He looked at them with a light expression, “She is stable, is breathing fine, responsive and her vitals are looking good.” He went silent before continuing “But her condition is still serious, she has sustained some pretty major injuries from her brain, and she can’t fully move her head at all times to avoid any complications.”

Veneer sighed again, wiping small tears from his eyes. “Can we see her though?” He pled, desperate to see his sister.

The doctor nodded his head with a faint smile. “You may see her now, her room is 134, please follow me ” He added

Relieved, Orchid and Veneer followed the doctor to Velvet's room, where she was resting for now.

He slightly opened the door to her room, the light was dimmed, the room feeling somber and melancholy, a glass of water and some uneaten food was on the counter with a nurse quickly checking up and writing notes before walking out

"I would like for you to keep the visitation brief, she needs to heal and recover first, and she just got out of surgery a few hours ago." The doctor explained, before letting them be and walking out as well.

In the bed was Velvet, her long green hair was escating down her back, an IV and patient monitor attached to her arm, giving her fluids and checking her vitals and heart rate. Two bandages soaked with dry blood wrapped around her head, one covering her left eye that was left uncovered from the accident.

She herself was lying down on her hospital bed, covering herself with the bedsheets, her eyes red and puffy and her face soaked from crying last night. Her body weak and fragile from surgery, her skin pale and dull, looking lifeless.

Seeing her in agony upsetted Veneer and Orchid.

He rushed to her bed, unable to control his own emotions “Omg Velvet!” He screamed, holding her hand with a few of his own tears falling down his light face. Their eyes meeting each other as she slowly opened hers

"V-Veneer…” Velvet tries to speak, her voice hoarse and raspy almost hard to hear. But seeing her little brother by her side made her weep and sob, and seeing Orchid made more tears go down faster from her eyelids.

“Oh Velvet sweetie.” Orchid soothed, she sat at a nearby chair as she stroked her lime-emerald like hair.

Veneer pulled his sister into a tight hug, her tears falling down on his expensive clothes, he wants to say something that will lighten the darkened mood.

“Velvet, I’m so sorry.” He lamented, wiping her lavender eyes, “Please don’t cry, it's going to be okay, I’m here. He added, hoping to see a small smile from her or atleast seeing her happy.

Velvet didn’t respond, even if she tried to speak she wouldn't be able to let out a word or 2. Instead she just squeezed her brother's hand, as if trying to get comfort and consolation from him.

“I…It…Every-”

“Shh..please don’t talk okay, save your strength. Veneer sighed one more time, brushing her hair softly, soothing her, his voice laced with fear of what was going to come for his sister.

He didn’t want to let go or leave her, having to see her in this much pain upsets him truly. Her breathing was slow, shallow and shaky, still shaken up about the accident and the soreness all over her body itself. He felt the guilt all over again, the whole incident was already painful but her sister covered in aches and discomfort was too harsh and cruel to experience.

He let Velvet lay her head on his chest, silently crying on his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back as she sobbed, he yearned for all of the pain to go away and everything that happened to vanish and to go back to the way it was.

But he knew he couldn’t, if there was a way he would’ve done it already, but in reality it wouldn't be possible to do at all. All he could do right now was to be there for her, wanting her to feel safe and secured.

“I love you sis.” He said, still holding her.

“Be strong for me okay? I Promise I’ll never leave you.”

“Just stay strong”

She's so adorable, I almost feel bad almost killing her 😊😊

Part 4(In progress)

#trolls 3 band together #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #velvet angst #velvet trolls

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hunter-gatherer-11 · 2 months

Text

Injured (Avatar: The Way Of Water)

Prompt: Neteyam almost drowns in the Tulkun Hunter ship. Kiri and Aonung save him.

Pairing: Kiri X Platonic (Obviously) Neteyam.

Yes, I am doing another Neteyam Fix-It One shot. I really wish we'd gotten more Kiri and Nete screen time, so this is where this came from. Also, Kiri goes off on Neteyam, and I think I did it dumbly. Let me know! <3

*********************************************************************

Third Person POV

When Neteyam got shot, he was alone. When Neteyam got shot, he was trying to find the others, trapped in the depths of the ship, right as whatever it was started sinking it. Water was flooding the passageway, and he couldn't find the exit, it was too dark. He didn't want to panic, but the water was up to his hips, and rising fast, and he couldn't find a way out. He swore, trying to run through the water (which, as we know, isn't easy) to the wall, fingers scrabbling for any kind of crack that would say hey, here's a way out, but there was only smooth but rusty metal. "Shit!" His voice was painfully loud. He turned, ears flattening, and tried going the other way. The water was now to his chest, floating him to the ceiling, but it wouldn't last. He heard feet, not caring who's, above him. "Hey!" He screamed, banging his fists on the ceiling until his fists ached. "Help me! Please, I'm stuck!" But no one was coming.

He turned, seeing the water touching the tops of some walls, meaning the ship must've been tilting or something. He felt the panic rising in his throat. "Please!" He shouted, hitting the ceiling again, but nobody, still, was coming. He closed his eyes. I'm gonna die, he thought.

Pictures filled his head: Lo'ak, about ten years old, antagonizing a herd of Hammerhead Titanotheres in the jungle, almost getting trampled before Neteyam yanked him up a tree; Kiri, smiling at him as she explored the reef; Tuk, clinging to him when Aonung called the ilu. And the reef kids, too: Rotxo, his panicked voice filling Neteyam's head after Kiri's frightening seizure ("Is she breathing? Is she breathing?!"). Tsireya, smiling sweetly at him, when she knew no other emotion than kind. And Aonung, his brain supplied, the boy he'd liked since he arrived at the reef. You are in love, His brain said. And that is not wrong, that he is a boy, as you are. I wish I could've told him I loved him, Neteyam thought, the water rushing over his head to the ceiling, cutting off his air. He was underwater, trying to peer through the gloom at anything that could let him escape. He pushed forward, slamming into something, his curse mental as he pushed past it. His fingers were pointed, looking for any other obstacles, and, to his great shock, he found an air pocket. He breached the surface, gasping and coughing, and saw, from a faint, milky glow, that he was pushed against some kind of weird glass sheet, crammed in the hallway, which had allowed the small pocket, because the water was slower to go under it. He glanced down, heart stopping when he realized it was an actual sheet of glass, stretching almost to the floor. The only reason there was water on both sides was the bottom was broken, jagged shards aiming down, and there was barely enough space for him. Maybe Tuk, if she was careful, could've fit, but not Neteyam. He was trapped, and his knife was somehow gone.

The water was swirling, climbing slower than before to fill the hall. How ironic, he thought, tears springing to his eyes. That I die because of glass.

He gasped just as the water closed over his head.

It felt like the pressure was caving his chest in, the water flowing around due to the sinking ship. He slammed his hands on the glass, but his movements were too slow in the water, and he couldn't see and had no weapons. His lungs burned, and he fought against rising panic as he tried using his feet to break the glass, but no luck. His head spun, vision turning light gray at the edges, because he couldn't breathe. Then, he saw a dark, bloody orange. Then dark, buttery gold. It was a glow, becoming brighter and brighter by the second. Then, a million tiny fish, each one glowing until the compartment lit up like a lantern, swam under the glass, around his feet. He saw a shape swimming with them, much too big to be another fish. When it surfaced, he was stunned to see Aonung. Neteyam's heart soared at the sight of the free diver boy. Aonung had a Gill Mantle on his back, and he went under, examining the bottom before punching at the edges. His mouth opened in a hiss, teeth grit, bubbles escaping, as his finger was cut, but he paid no other attention to it and kept punching the glass. Finally, the glass broke, tiny shards floating up. He moved up and up, breaking more and more of the glass, until there was a space big enough for Neteyam, who was losing oxygen in his body, his head seriously spinning now. He swam under, wishing that he could have the broad tail of the Metkayina to make it go faster. He slipped under the glass, wincing as one of the longer shards sticking down gashed his shoulder open, but paying it no mind. He had no time, or he would die.

The fish were streaming around, lighting their way out of the ship. Just as the boys reached the opening, they scattered, and Kiri was hovering over a rock on the seabed, her black hair a soft cloud around her face. Or...maybe that was the black spotting Neteyam's vision. He saw Kiri's eyes widen seconds before the black surged and completely obliterated his eyes, and he was gone.

Time Skip, Kiri Perspective

"Neteyam is still in the ship!" Tuk screamed, gripping her mother tightly.

"Oh, Great Mother," Neytiri covered her mouth. Kiri turned to Aonung. "You guys can hold your breath, right?" He blinked. "Yeah?" "If I can light your way, you must return with my brother." Aonung's eyes narrowed, but he nodded, "Okay."

Kiri and Aonung slipped in the water, and she called the fish with whatever power that drew them, and with a wave, they fled towards the sinking ship, and Aonung followed. She couldn't see what was happening, and she grew worried the more time had passed. She'd gone up twice already for air when she saw the glow returning. If she wasn't underwater, she would've sighed in relief. But that relief was short-lived, seeing how much Neteyam was struggling to swim, and she saw his eyes fluttering. No, no, get him up! Her brain screamed as she moved to grab him. He jerked, eyes closing, and was still.

No!

Kiri and Aonung hauled him to the surface. "Mr. Sully!" Aonung shouted as Kiri and him swam to the rocks, Neteyam's body between them. "He's not breathing!" He cried. Kiri pushed her brother onto the rock, and Jake placed his hands on her brother's chest, something he said was called CPR: Cardiopulmonary resuscitation, meaning that her dad was trying to restart Neteyam's heart. Restart his heart. That sentence alone made Kiri shiver, though she wasn't cold. "C'mon. C'mon!" Jake cried, pushing harder, and there was a snap. "What was that?!" Tuk panicked. "That was his ribs," Kiri realized when Jake winced, not answering, continuing his compressions. "You broke his ribs?!" Lo'ak shrieked. Neytiri grabbed her son, gently pulling him back. "Don't do this," Jake panted. "Don't leave me, kid."

Tsireya had a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, tears in them, as Neteyam's heart refused to beat. Aonung was shivering, too, and he was staring, almost blankly, at the ground. Kiri's eyes slipped shut. Please don't take him, she thought, hoping Eywa could hear her. We need him.

A wet splatter and a cry made her eyes fly open. Neteyam rolled, water spilling from his mouth and lungs, as he coughed, body spasming from the force. "Teyam!" Jake sighed in relief, hugging his son tightly, breathing hard. Tuk was there in seconds, forcing her way under her dad's arms and into Neteyam's, who looked really shaken. "I-I'm okay," He rasped, coughing wetly. He hugged his father and sister, and then Neytiri and Lo'ak when they reached for him, before finally looking at Kiri. "Thank you," He whispered, eyes kind. She hit him. Not, like, punched him in the face or anything. But she slapped his head, then his arm. "YOU SKXAWNG!" She screamed, even as Neytiri had to hold her hands as Neteyam flinched. "What the hell would we have done, you moron, if you died?!" Kiri screamed, voice cracking. "What the fuck--" "Hey!" Jake said sharply, but she wasn't listening.

"What the fuck was Tuk gonna do?! Or what about Lo'ak?!" Kiri was screaming herself hoarse. "When Dad tells you to get out, get the fuck out! What if--what if you had died, what if Dad couldn't fucking bring you back, what---" She was cut off as Neteyam hugged her, and she cried, weakly hitting him, but he didn't care. "I don't want you to die," She whined, hands curled around her brother's waist. "I'm okay, I'm right here," Neteyam whispered.

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orangesunsets12 · 1 year

Text

Everyone in Hawkins believed that Jim Hopper was cursed, and there was no question why.

He had moved to town with a frown on his face, no family beside him. No one dared to question what had happened to his family, if he even had one, but word somehow got out that he had divorced his wife, and lost his daughter to cancer.

It's the story that everyone bought, including Joyce. It was a story that she wished that she dived into more.

It was a nice, cool evening, and Hopper had come over to visit with Joyce. Will and Jonathan were inside as the adults were on the deck. Joyce had begun talking about Will's treatment after being stuck in the Upside Down, and how hard it had been for him to spend his nights there, when Hopper spoke up.

"Did Jonathan spend time with him? At the lab?"

Joyce blinked; the question was so innocent yet so random, especially coming from Hopper's mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, he did. Jonathan has barely left his side."

"Good." Hopper said, looking out at the stars. "Their relationship is really something special. Any sibling relationship is, really, it makes things a lot better. They're lucky to have each other."

Joyce felt a small smile form on her lips. "Do you have siblings, Hop, siblings I don't know about? I could swear that you didn't have any-"

"Oh, me? No. Sara did, though."

"What?" Her voice had become soft, and Hopper sighed, glancing towards her.

"I guess that part of my story didn't get shared around town, huh?"

"You had another kid? Sarah had a sibling?"

"Yeah. A brother. He was 4 years older than her, quiet, shy, the complete opposite of Sara, but he was with her every step of the way when she got sick. He really made her happy."

Joyce could see tears shine in his eyes, tears that came on so suddenly it was scary. She put her hand on his, trying to comfort him in the only way she knew how. She didn't know why he had become sad, until she realized that he was talking in the past tense. His son was gone. Somehow, he was gone. Another person in Hopper's life that Hopper had lost.

The thought broke her heart.

"I remember him putting on puppet shows for her, near the end. She was always laugh, and he would go above and beyond to make her smile." Hopper let out a watery laugh. "One time he snuck worms from the garden into the hospital, the nurses hated it, but Sara loved it."

"He..." Hopper closed his eyes, and, as if he knew the question she wanted to ask, he continued to talk. "He went missing a year after she died. He was just playing outside, Diane was watching him, looked away for a second, and he was gone."

His shoulders began shaking with suppressed emotion, and Joyce wrapped him in a side hug. She wondered if anyone else knew this. If she was the first person he was telling. If it was pain that he didn't share with anyone, pain that had built up and overflowed into this moment.

"Oh, Hop."

"Three months. We looked three months but found nothing. The Police Force gave up. Diane gave up. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to give up on him. But he's gone. He's gone. And I hate it. I hate it so much. Maybe I really am cursed."

The two fell into silence, a silence broken by muffled voices from the inside. Joyce let Hopper cry, providing her presence and gentle touch as support, wishing she could do more, wishing that she would know what words to say, but she didn't.

"Hopper?" She asked after a while, when his tears had slowed, and he looked to her.

"Yeah, Joyce?"

"What was his name? I want to know it so that I can carry him in my heart, so that someone else will remember him, if you'll let me?"

Hopper managed a small smile, tears shining in his eyes yet his gaze reflecting thankfulness.

"Steve. His name was Steve."

#an au i thought of #stranger things #jim hopper #joyce byers #stranger things fanfiction #this was very random but I wanted to write it #idk if i'll continue it #but i needed to share this #steve harrington #angst

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icedcoffeeandsunshine · 1 year

Note

Hello! It’s me again😅

Thank you very much for answering me last time! I’m in love with that work. So… Can I ask for some kind of continuation of a story? Where Gray and Ethernano Dragon Slayer go to a difficult mission together and one of them get injured badly. Only after that they decide to confess. I’m sorry for bothering you with this story😅

hello! i’m so glad you asked because while writing my psychology exam (inspiration strikes me at the worst times) i came up with an idea for this lol also demon slayer gray is FINE AS HELL

i think this kind of really sucks 😃 but i feel like i’ve procrastinated because of college entrance exams so i hope it’s minorly up to par with what you wanted and sorry for making you wait!

Unrequited (Part 2) - Gray Fullbuster

“Lillian! Hi! ”

Fairy Tails Ethernano Dragon Slayer turned around at the sound of her name being called.

Juvia smiled at her.

“Yeah, what’s up?” The Slayer blinked. This was the first time the Water Mage had ever acknowledged, let alone even interacted with her.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go on a job with Gray-sama and I? You don’t look like you have anything better to do, if I’m gonna be blunt and the job requires three people” Juvia shrugged.

Juvia could be slightly naïvely straight-to-the-point and mildly mean at times but she was right. Lillian didn’t really have anything better to do. The rest of team Natsu were out helping Sting and Rogue sort out some mundane guild controversy and the rest of the guild was busy doing…whatever they did throughout the day.

Which is why Lillian found herself third wheeling Gray and Juvia on said job.

Though, it could be noted that something was different. Juvia wasn’t as stuck on to Gray as she usually was. In fact, the both of them felt sort of distant somehow.

Like all Dragon Slayers, Lillian had one special heightened sense. Her specific sense was that she could easily sense the emotions, and in a way, the aura between two or more people. And her sense told her something was definitely off today.

While they were walking towards the borders of Magnolia, Juvia slowed her pace so that Lillian and her were walking together and Gray was a few paces ahead.

“Lillian, can we talk?”

“Hm?” Lillian raised a brow. Two interactions in one day? This was news.

“I think…I’ve come to terms with the fact that Gray and I aren’t meant to be together”

This simple statement nearly made Lillian trip over her own two feet.

“What?”

Juvia stared wistfully at the boy walking in front of her and sighed.

“I see the way he looks at you, and how you look at him. You two clearly have something between you”

“Juvia, that’s not-”

Juvia held up a hand and smiled at Lillian.

“I’m not bothered. Seriously. I think part of growing up is learning acceptance and accepting that Gray doesn’t and will never reciprocate my feelings, and will never feel for me the way he feels for you. It stings, to be honest but accepting it will only be better for me in the end, I think. I’m fine, though.”

Lillian gulped as the blue haired mage’s words sunk in. She hung her head, deep in thought. Did Gray really care for her in that way? Had everyone just been feeding the whole Gray-Juvia agenda down her throat when Gray liked Lillian all along?

She didn’t have much time to think deeper into the topic as a huge snake rose from the ground in front of them and the three mages got into battle stance.

───◌┈┈───♡⃝───┈┈◌───

*timeskip because i suck at writing fight scenes: this part is set in a cave*

“What we’re you thinking?”

Lillian winced as she felt cold fingertips on her cheek.

Her eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the light. Her throat felt like sandpaper and she had a throbbing ache on her waist.

“Oh thank god, you’re up” Gray sighed, removing his hand from her face.

“What-” The Ethernano Dragon Slayer attempted to stand but winced as her legs gave way. Luckily, Gray was able to grab her before she hit the ground.

“What happened is that you threw yourself in front of Juvia and now you’ve got cuts and bruises everywhere. I’ve sent her to go get reinforcements because the job isn’t completed yet and you’re badly injured” The Ice Mage folded his arms over his chest “Again, Lil, what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t…I think”

Gray scoffed “No shit”

“Why are you so pressed about this?”

“I’m not pressed”

“Yeah sure, that’s why you’re YELLING at me”

“I’m not”

“I don’t get it, why are you so concerned? You know I can handle myself”

“Because I care about you, idiot!” Gray froze as the words left his lips on impulse.

Lillian blinked.

“Say what?”

“I…” The Ice Mage averted his gaze from Lillian “I care about you…and not just as a comrade”

The Ethernano Dragon Slayer felt her cheeks heat up.

“I-uh” She gulped.

“You don’t need to say anything, I don’t expect you to”

“I like you too, Gray. I have for a while now”

There it was. Out in the open. The Dragon Slayer hated being vulnerable in any situation and this was no exception.

A moment of comfortable silence ensued before Lillian spoke up.

“Do you think we should go out to see whether the others have come or…”

“Yeah, I think”

They started moving towards the cave entrance when Gray stopped Lillian.

“Hey” He lightly touched her wrist “When this is over, would you like to go out on a date?”

The girl smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek, making the normally stoic wizard blush furiously.

“I’d love that”

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logarhythm-bees · 8 months

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To Unearth and Back Again; ⛅Chapter 15

Chapter Fourteen | Table of Contents | Chapter Sixteen

See ronithesnail's absolutely wonderful art for this story!

And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once everything looks different Now that I see you

-I See The Light, Tangled

“I cannot believe we got lost!” Roman groaned, kicking angrily at the grass. “Stupid quest, stupid brother, making us go on this dumb journey to get lost in these dumb woods!”

Virgil hummed contemplatively, toying with a branch between his fingers where he’s laid down i the grass. Roman watched him think, grumbling next to him as he flopped down with him.

“It’s not so bad,” Virgil said after a couple moments, letting the branch come to a rest in the palm of his hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the bark. “I mean, no fun being stuck in the woods, yeah. But, I mean- I get to hang out with you. I like hanging out with you.” Virgil shrugged, not quite looking at Roman but not entirely looking away. “So, y’know. Not so bad. Being by your side and everything.”

Roman felt his thought processes slow, forgetting his frustration with his brother to turn instead to memories and emotions circling through his head, flipping words over and haphazard feelings and fleeting notions of something more, and realizing that maybe something more wasn’t quite what he had been looking for nearly so much as something different, something special, something Virgil had managed to articulate so instantly despite Roman’s ages and ages of pondering and looking for the answer.

That was what he wanted, really- to be by Virgil’s side, by quest and normal life. It didn’t matter, suddenly, whether he was in love with Virgil, because he loved him- and it didn’t matter just how, just that he did, and that was enough.

The sun was shining in Virgil’s hair, casting him in almost ethereal, an answer to Roman’s questions; not a missing piece to him, but a complementary set.

“-now that I see you,” Roman sang in a gentle whisper to himself that rung too quiet for Virgil to hear, finishing a sentence he’d long forgotten he’d started.

“I do wonder if Remus researched any botany before creating this world, or if it simply created itself like this because he knew how he wanted it to be,” Logan questioned, talking to himself. “It is so curious, the way the imagination works. So many questions, and yet some unanswerable by anything but human creativity.” He felt like he was wandering through the forest, slow in contrast with their daring adventure, but he couldn’t help it. There was so much to see, so much to explore! He had to come back some time and learn about this ecosystem under more freeing circumstances. He’d love to learn about the magic system too, he realized, forming a little ball of light in his hand. His grasp of it was shaky at best, and he’d be pleased to have the opportunity to try to master it.

He was so focused on his observations of the world in front and to the sides of him that he forgot to look down. His foot brushed against something and he jumped involuntarily. Peering at the dirt floor to explain what he’d felt, his eyes caught on a beautiful fuschia blossom. He knelt down to study it, cupping it gently in his hands.

“Beautiful,” he spoke. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It’s almost like a rose, but the petals are different. They appear almost heart-shaped.” He sighed, sitting back on his heels. “It would be nice if I could take a picture, to ask Remus or Roman about later. I’ll have to remember to bring it up.”

Peering around the flower, he brushed at the dirt trying to get a glimpse of the roots when the thread of the path caught his attention. It was circled around the base of the flower, its same vibrant pink color glowing, and it did not continue any further than the flower did, leaving Logan without an obvious path for him to follow.

“Ahh.” Logan said. “This is not the right path, and now the correct way to proceed is up to me to find. I think I understand.”

The wind blew his hair in the direction the thread had been going before it stopped, and Logan huffed in amusement as he continued to continue the suggested way. The dirt path itself continued even though the thread did not, so Logan followed it until he couldn’t anymore. The path was overrun at the bend by a field of flowers, almost thick enough that Logan could not see the soil below it. He bent down, looking at a stem of bluebells and debating picking some for Patton when the realization hit him.

“These are all real flowers.” Logan announced to himself, his eyes wide. “But the flower the thread lead me to was not. If I can find–aha! There!” Logan cheered, picking out the familiar pink heart petals in the doozy of others. From there, a line of them lead the way through the woods, brilliant spots of pink dotted among the flowerbeds, and Logan soon found himself in a clearing, Thomas and Patton standing on a length of fuchsia thread.

“It’s rather nice out here, isn’t it?” Patton commented, swinging his hands back and forwards as they walked. “You’d hardly believe Remus was involved with it, look around.” He jumped on a leaf, hearing it crackle beneath his feet. “It’s breathtaking.”

“It is nice.” Thomas agreed, but his face was worried. “I just…I wonder why Remus would do this? It seems so weird.”

Patton looked at him and put his hand on his shoulder. “Maybe Roman was right, when we first got here. If Remus is already weird, maybe his doing a normal thing is the weird part.” Patton sighed, a hopefulness at the back of his throat. “Besides, maybe this is proof that Remus does have some of our best interests in mind. He may be…disruptive, and kind of gross, and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks.” Patton took Thomas’s hand and swung it between them. “He’s still a part of you though, and I think, in his own weird way, he does like you. Maybe this is just his Remus-y way of showing it.”

“Maybe.” Thomas responded. “I want to think you’re right.”

Patton looked at him a bit sadly, still swinging their hands back and forth as he bumped Thomas’s shoulder. “I can’t say that I know it’s true,” he told him. “But all we can do is hope it is.”

“Yeah.” Thomas replied, leaning his head on Patton’s shoulder. “I do want it to be.”

They walked in silence for the length of the thread until it led them into a wide clearing where the small woods became tall jungle trees, and then they talked about wants and truths until Logan came out of the forest to greet them and tell them about the ecology of this new flower.

#lomoceit #logicaliciet #prinxiety #qpp prinxiety #to unearth and back again

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watchinglikeafangirl · 2 years

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Stranger Things finale

Just gonna say, I am mindblown and now enjoy my rambling haha

This is more a discussion about some writing choices that are complained about and how I see it.

Will

Watched this finale with my best friend and she immediatly pointed out how much the writers mistreated Will, so I'm gonna share my point of view here.

I'm not gonna deny the fact Will was always a mistreated character. There's really not much input coming from him if we look at his story. In season one he was the boy that went missing. We didn't know him. They were going all lengths for someone we didn't know thus didn't have much emotions left for. Season two was about Will being possessed, so he came back but we didn't like him because he wasn't his true self. And then the story took a turn and everything about Will was about Mike, not because they were best friends for life but because Will realized he had a crush. He wanted to spend time with Mike but he was annoyed by him and since Mike is the protagonist, we didn't like Will as well. This season, when El and him were stuck far across the States, it was the first time we ever saw the true Will, something we didn't know. But then Mike turns up and it's all about him again. Will's crush is too deep-rooted.

Many people might (and do) argue that his character has a weird vibe writingwise because he is a queer character without every explicitly adressing this topic. Joyce and Jonathan would just hint "he's different" and accept for Mike's "it's not my fault you don't like girls", we never saw something coming along with those sentences. But I personally think it kinda makes sense, you know. I totally see where the problem lies and the pacing of his story is really slow, not gonna lie. If he gets a love interest in season 5, I'm gonna ask myself why he didn't get it in season 4 at least, but okay, I still try to see it from another perspective. Like I said, we got the vibe of Will having a crush on Mike in season 3. I think it's when he slowly realizes it himself. But like Joyce said before, he is sensitive. Will is shy and unsure. You can see that in his body laguage as he always walks around like he feels misplaced and awkward. That's his whole thing: he feels misplaced. He doesn't tell Mike, he doesn't tell anyone because there's other stuff going on and he feels like he is not really a part of it even though he's right in the middle. He doesn't want to be a burden, so he keeps quiet. Then, they move and it's even worse now that Jonathan fades. The only person Will has such a deep bond with and could talk to whenever is now vanishing. El has her own weight to carry and Joyce is too careful with him, so Will has no one. He is isolated from Hawkins and has no other anchor. It goes on and on. The insecurities and fears and sadness follow him. I mean, he starts crying in that car when he talks to Mike, not able to tell him about his crush. Jonathan steps up again, is in the picture again and reassures Will nothing changed between them, implying that even though Will is gay, nothing is different about him. I think this is all Will needed to be sure there are people with him, important ones, that will no give up on him. He is not a failure and never was. He was punished for nothing he did wrong. I think he can heal from now on. The scene was small and quiet but it was extremely important for Will to hear it.

Eddie

The fan's favourite I always felt would die. Stranger Things always introduces people that don't give much to the story and then die in their last heroic act. Season 2: Bob. Season 3: Alexei. Season 4: Eddie. They all sacrifice themselves in the end because they somehow ended up being involved and as a part of the group that shows less initiative than the others. I always had that feeling about Eddie.

I see many, many people saying his death was meaningless and unnecessary but that's not entirely true. The group of five went into the upside down, following a plan. Eddie and Dustin were the ones to draw attention to the bats, so the others would be left unnoticed. Since all organisms in the upside down are linked, Eddie and Dustin had to stay behind and fight against the bats even when Steve, Robin and Nancy were already in the house. The second, onecof them would have stepped on one tarantula, the bats would have known. So yes, it makes sense Eddie kept fighting them and he didn't die for nothing. He knew that. He knew he had his part and he kept following the plan no matter what, like Nancy said. It wasn't a meaningless death and it was not unhelpful to the others.

I see the time skip can be a problem but have we ever seen grief of other characters who didn't witness the death? Bob died and there was a time jump. Billy died and there was a time jump. Now Eddie died and there was a time jump. It is a pattern really. Yes, we didn't see the other people react to Eddie's death and they seem fine after the two days time jump but Stranger Things was never sincere with all characters. It's sad but well, Eddie was assumed to be too unimportant to have the other characters mourn his death except for Dustin who literally held him in his arms.

Max and El

Both Max and El are captured by Vecna and we once again see their difference. Max was saved by music, saved by memories of her friends but El was saved by Mike alone. This may seem unfair for the other characters because El is as much part of the group as Max but there is a fundamentally difference within the origin of Max and El. Max is in general more social and El always feels like an outsider, like a failure, like a monster. Mike is the only person she trusts to not think bad about her, who makes her feel the most normal. Max treated her no different as well but El is very fixiated on Mike and the love she has for him, so it makes sense he is the one to get her to fight again.

Will and El are pretty similar in that matter. They isolate themselves because they think nobody likes them for real. They can't relax and have one person only they run to and feel the savest with. In Will's case, it's Jonathan and for El, it's Mike. It's always been Mike. He believes in her and though it might be selfish of him to say "fight because I can't live without you" because it seems to be more about him than about El, it mirrors the love they share. Love is always a give and take. Being loved is a feeling one can't describe but you know you don't want it to stop. So in this context, El fights because she doesn't want to loose Mike. She wants to love him still and wants to keep the feeling of being loved. It's a complicated thing to explain but it's not that selfish because once you are in love, your happiness depends on another person. So loving someone is not just about you but the other as well, so saying you can't live without them is more likely implying that you love them and will continue to do so, knowing they want you to do that too.

Max wasn't with Lucas, pushed him away and the first time Vecna got her, she lived through it because of her friends, because she wasn't with Lucas and didn't want to be stuck with these memories when it was her who broke them apart. It was too painful then. In the end, she hides in a memory that includes Lucas, because they bonded again and it's not painful any longer.

El and Max were both nearly dying because of Vecna and they both have their different anchors and ways to cope with it, so saying it doesn't make sense El only needed Mike doesn't add up to me because her character is extremely different from Max's.

#stranger things

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yellowocaballero · 3 years

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Obi-Wan’s a teen dad and Anakin DESPERATELY wants to do crime

A week after Obi-Wan formally took Anakin as his padawan, he left his quarters.

It hadn’t been Obi-Wan’s intention to spend a week lying in bed - or, at times, lying on the living room floor. Or staring blankly at the stove, or holding a toothbrush as he forgot what he was supposed to do with it. It had been his intention to handle the new...arrangements. Put on a brave face. Take care of business. There was so much to do, and Obi-Wan really did want to do it. But he stood in front of the stove staring at its knobs instead, lost.

Anakin had been a good sport about it, at least. He figured out alarmingly quickly how to work the stove and fry up the sliced fruit in their cupboards. Anakin didn’t understand that you didn’t fry fruit, but Obi-Wan ate it with little complaint. He put food in front of Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan ate it. When Anakin asked him, somewhat fearfully, how to use the shower, Obi-Wan showed him and then took one himself. After the third day he left the living quarters semi-frequently, which would have been worrying if Obi-Wan cared.

Obi-Wan’s depressed, grieving, and has an inferiority complex the size of an Alderaanian mountain. Anakin doesn’t know what’s happening, but he does know that the power grid failure was not his fault. Can Obi-Wan ever be a true Jedi and a competent master? Or is his backstory, as told by the Jedi Apprentice novels, too fucking weird?

Rest under the cut.

A week after Obi-Wan formally took Anakin as his padawan, he left his quarters.

On day six, Obi-Wan worked up the energy to turn on his datapad, and was promptly bombarded with messages. They scrolled down the screen, a new one popping up every second.

A lot of them were from his automated specialized education classes. Obi-Wan had finished the required padawan courses when he was sixteen, breezing through each course at his own pace virtually during downtime in transit and on missions. He had signed up for some Knight-level specialized education courses afterwards, loading as many on his plate as he could and managing special permission to complete them all virtually too. Apparently, he had a great deal of assignments due.

Many messages from the Temple administration. Notification for mandatory forms to complete for requisitions, medical care...reports on the Naboo mission...a mountain of forms to complete for the promotion...a mountain of forms for the new padawan...a mountain of forms for processing Qui-gon’s death.

Messages from his friends. How are you doing, Obi-Wan? Are you okay, Obi-Wan? Can we come over and talk, Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, you stupid bastard, how dare you fight a Sith without me?

Disturbingly, even the master of mission assignments had messaged him. Xe wanted to know if Obi-Wan was going to file for extended reprieve from missions to train his underage padawan in the Temple, or if he wanted to continue taking missions. Decide quickly, Knight Kenobi. Xe are willing to grant three years of light to no missions to help ‘facilitate Padawan Skywalker’s integration into the Jedi’.

The thought made Obi-Wan dizzy. No missions for years? He and Qui-Gon had barely gone weeks without a mission. But Obi-Wan had been thirteen, and Qui-Gon had a particular talent of taking an assignment to mediate standard legislative disputes and turn it into a three month embroilment in an endangered animal trafficking scheme. Staying stuck in the Temple for that amount of time made his skin crawl. Staying at home in the Temple so Anakin could integrate into the Jedi, become the Jedi he dreamed of...

Obi-Wan turned off the pad and tossed it across the room, letting it land on Qui-gon’s private meditation mat. Somehow, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

Five hours later, Obi-Wan dragged himself out of Qui-gon’s room to find Anakin lying on the floor with what looked like an entire droid disassembled over the carpet. He was kicking his feet in the air, lying on his stomach, stripping some frayed wire.

Obi-Wan stared at him blankly, forms dancing behind his eyes. Anakin needed clothing. They had already processed him through his vaccinations - thank hell - and prescribed him some antibiotics for his multitude of intestinal parasites, but there was no way he was taking the pills. He needed to teach him how to braid the padawan braid. He needed to get them some food for the cabinets. He needed to…

“Are you hungry?” Obi-Wan rasped. His hair felt disgusting.

Anakin’s head snapped up, eyes widening. He scrambled off the rug, brushing a suspicious amount of dirt off his knees. “Yeah! I’ll make us that green thing!”

He shouldn’t let the nine year old work the stove. But Obi-Wan let him anyway, as he managed to somehow dump water in the kettle and place it on the stove, standing beside Anakin and waiting for it to whistle.

I must be doing very well, Obi-Wan thought hysterically, as he stared at the old-fashioned durasteel kettle that Qui-gon had favored. He was releasing his emotions into the Force with perfection. He wasn’t feeling anything at all. He wasn’t thinking about Qui-gon. He wasn’t thinking about anything at all. His mind was clear and empty, and he was perfectly at peace.

Obi-Wan tried to pour his tea, but he just couldn’t move. He stood and stared at the kettle for so long that Anakin eventually walked in and, straining on his tiptoes, sloshed the steaming water into the plastic white cup.

***

On day seven, Obi-Wan managed to wrangle both himself and Anakin into some semblance of hygiene and clean clothes. Anakin needed a lot of help, which clearly embarrassed him, but Obi-Wan was too dead inside to be frustrated about it.

He ended up tying his obi for him, as Anakin wriggled and tried to turn around to see it on the back. He’d have to show him how to do it himself later, but that was for later.

“Why do I have to wear this?” Anakin whined. “It’s so heavy.”

“I’ll see if I can requisition you an outfit with less layers,” Obi-Wan said. A lighter outfit wouldn’t cut it, as Anakin had ramped up the temperature controls in their quarters a week ago and the rooms haven’t dipped below boiling ever since. “Hold still. Hold - hold still, please.”

“What does requisition mean?”

Anakin held still eventually. He managed to untie the obi in the first ten minutes, but Obi-Wan really couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Then they had to worry about brushing their teeth, and Obi-Wan had to teach him how to do that, and why was this so hard, why was everything so hard -

But when Obi-Wan eventually got them both out the door, he found no relief.The Temple felt different. Obi-Wan didn’t know how; just that it did. It was identical in every worldly way, yet mismatched in the Force. As if it was a different Temple, a pale echo from another dimension, that was the home of a different Obi-Wan. Or maybe Obi-Wan was different: maybe his Force signature was so warped and polluted that he tainted everywhere he went.

They were all parts of the great whole of the Force. The Force was composed of every Jedi, every sentient being and eddy of wind. There were tens of thousands of Jedi in this Temple - how could the death of one man change it so thoroughly? Or had it just changed Obi-Wan?

Somewhat suspiciously, Anakin seemed to know the way out of the dormitories and into the main thoroughfare of the building. Obi-Wan kept a death grip on his little hand the entire time, slowing his steps so Anakin could keep up without having to jog. It didn’t stop him from trying to run forward every few steps, only for Obi-Wan to gently tug him back.

“You weren’t supposed to run around the Temple by yourself,” Obi-Wan said flatly. Anakin grinned sheepishly, in what Obi-Wan was already beginning to recognize as his ‘Busted!’ face.

“Why not?”

“You could have gotten lost.”

“I did get lost,” Anakin said proudly. “But then I found a secret service tunnel for the droids and I crawled through it and I found a server room and -” He stopped abruptly. “But that was way after the power outage yesterday. That I had nothing to do with.”

Obi-Wan...should probably care about this.

He didn’t. He was too busy releasing his emotions into the Force, and returning his dark thoughts to the Force, and maintaining complete control over his body and spirit. There was no room in that for caring about Anakin, maybe, destroying the Temple.

Wasn’t he a teacher? Shouldn’t he be teaching?

“First rule of being a Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, exhausted, “learn to lie.”

There. That was a lesson. Qui-gon had said the same thing to him when he was fourteen. Obi-Wan was doing great at this. Anakin beamed and made a weird motion with his hand, clenching it into a fist and sticking his thumb out. Obi-Wan stared blankly at him until he put his hand down.

Maybe it was because Obi-Wan was releasing all of his feelings and thoughts into the Force so well, but he couldn’t help but feel a constant prickling at the back of his neck. It felt like everybody was looking at them. A group of gossiping knights downright stopped talking when they saw Obi-Wan and Anakin approaching, and they broke out into whispers when they left. Padawans and initiates openly stared. Masters were too polite to stare, but their interest clearly peaked in the Force.

By the time they got to the quartermaster’s and slid in line, Anakin was practically hiding behind Obi-Wan. Anakin had likely gone his entire life without anybody noticing him, blending into the background. Obi-Wan had learned almost a decade ago that it was a useful survival tactic for slaves. Although how he had ever done it, Obi-Wan would never know. The boy was a sun in the Force. Blinding and burnt, as broiling as the temperature he kept their quarters at.

“Oh my. Padawan Kenobi, is that you?” Meela, the Quartermaster’s knight assistant, stopped and stared at both of them. She was carrying a large box of fabrics, and all of the other Jedi waiting in line stopped talking to crane their heads and stare too. “Oh! It’s knight now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, before coughing. He hadn’t realized his voice was so hoarse - he hadn’t spoken to anybody but a nine year old in a week. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Meela.”

“Of course,” Meela said quickly. She was looking openly at Anakin, who was pointedly looking at Obi-Wan’s belt. “And you must be Anakin Skywalker! I had no idea you were so young. Is he even old enough to be a padawan, Knight Kenobi?”

“We determined that the creche wasn’t the best place for him.” Obi-Wan quickly grabbed his datapad, brought up the catalogue of items to requisition, and shoved it Anakin. “Pick out what we’re going to get. I’m certain you must be very busy, Knight Meela, so -”

“My, Padawan Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan refrained from gritting his teeth, before rotating on his heel. He stuck his hands in his sleeves, bowing to the aged Togrutan Jedi behind him. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Master Hashi.”

“My condolences for your master’s death,” Master Hashi said sympathetically. His watery old blue eyes were large and perfectly pitying. “It must be so difficult for you. And taking on a padawan so soon after your knighthood, as well.”

“He’s with the Force now,” Obi-Wan said. Smiling. He was smiling. Turn it down. Just a gentle smile. Remember Rishi. “But I appreciate your condolences.”

As it turns out, half the line just needed to express condolences for Master Jinn’s death, how sad, how tragic, how avoidable. He was so young. Obi-Wan was practically sweating by the time they got to the quartermaster’s desk, at which point he was promptly told that he was missing three forms.

Obi-Wan stood in front of the quartermaster’s desk, gripping Anakin’s hand in his, trying not to unwind. “But I filled out the application on the portal -”

“Yes, but you need your knight’s identification code,” the Quartermaster said briskly. “You input your padawan code.”

“How do I find out my knight’s identification code?”

“It should be on your identification card, son.”

“I was only knighted a week ago.” They were staring. They were all staring - “They haven’t issued me a card yet.”

“I’ll refer you to my assistant, Knight Kenobi.”

Anakin tugged on Obi-Wan’s sleeve. “Are we not getting my new clothing?”

A horrible tremor rose in Obi-Wan’s chest: a choking, sinking feeling. It crawled up his throat, making his trachea burn and his head pound. It felt like a balloon expanding, splintering his chest cavity and threatening to crack him apart.

Everybody was watching. They could not see it. Think about Rishi. Do not let them see it.

After fifteen humiliating minutes sitting at a sympathetic Meela’s desk, Obi-Wan finally managed to secure them some clothes. Anakin also received the standard pack of Jedi personal items, including his own toiletries and datapad. They secured an identification code for Anakin and input him into the database, and gave him his own lanyard and set of cards. Older Jedi tended to keep them in a hidden pocket in their robes, but for obvious reasons they affixed them to the neck of younger children.

But, without the identification code and five hundred more hoops, Obi-Wan couldn’t request a new living quarters and new furniture. He thanked Meela for her time anyway, stopped Anakin from attempting to requisition a B900-A40 droid with HyperFlex specs, and escaped something as simple as the Quartermaster’s trying to avoid rattling apart.

Obi-Wan only exhaled when they were outside, looking at his datapad and marking off the first line. The to-do list scrolled down the screen, and onto another page. Anakin was already shifting from foot to foot, bored.

“One down,” Obi-Wan said. “Three more.”

“Do we have to?” Anakin whined. “Why were the other Jedi so mean?”

Obi-Wan stopped short. He looked down at Anakin, who was fiddling with his obi again. “Stop messing with that. And they weren’t being mean, Anakin, they were just concerned.”

But Anakin just wrinkled his nose. “They were being mean. They were making you feel bad.”

How had he even - “If you keep quiet through the errands, you can have some fruit for lunch at the commissary.”

“Wizard!”

****

It quickly became obvious that nobody approved of Obi-Wan and Anakin.

Whispers followed them everywhere. Masters, old friends of Qui-gon, subtly disapproved of his choices. Which was nothing new - Obi-Wan had silently suffered almost everybody in the Temple disapproving of Qui-gon to him for years - but somehow it made Obi-Wan want to tear his hair out. The knights - the other knights - expressed incredulity that somebody knighted that morning received a padawan that afternoon. The padawans refused to even talk to Anakin, and he very quickly stopped trying.

Obi-Wan’s own friends...he did not have many. He was never in the Temple long enough to significantly interact or make connections with any other padawans or knights. He was never home for longer than a few weeks, and if he was planetside for longer than a month then it was because Qui-gon was recuperating from getting blown up when Obi-Wan hijacked a pirate ship and crash landed it on a small moon.

He used to have friends. Bant and Garen and Reeft and Siri...but a small and horrible part of Obi-Wan hated talking to them. A conversation with them always felt like they were trying to communicate with an Obi-Wan who hadn’t existed for a very long time, crying out over an impassable canyon. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan had begun resenting people who saw through him.

Anakin was a stubborn and implacable kid, but he was very perceptive. He clung tighter and tighter to Obi-Wan’s robes the further they walked into the temple, and eventually Obi-Wan had to disentangle him and give him a quick talk about appropriate behavior. It was his tenth talk to Anakin about appropriate behavior - about everything from using utensils to washing his hair - but this was the first time he seemed to understand why.

“So they don’t like you if you don’t do all the dumb stuff they do?”

“It’s not dumb,” Obi-Wan hissed. “And keep your voice down, this is a library.”

Judging from Anakin’s impressed gawking, this was his first time in a library. He clearly didn’t understand why they were supposed to be quiet either, and Obi-Wan was beginning to understand that Anakin refused to do anything unless you gave him a reason.

Obi-Wan carefully placed him in a small chair in the children’s section, in front of a brightly colored plastic table. Some other initiates were sitting around coloring, or working their way through children’s books. Anakin squinted up at him judgmentally as Obi-Wan frantically grabbed the clunky and friendly library datapad and scrolled through the catalogue until he found a likely suspect. Bugs of Rainforest Planets, light on the words, perfect.

“Just stay here until I come back,” Obi-Wan whispered, after a hurried explanation of why they were quiet in libraries. “Don’t leave this chair. Please.”

“I want more fruit,” Anakin warned.

“You will have more fruit. Now please don’t move.”

This was not how you Jedi masters taught padawans. This was not how it was supposed to work. Obi-Wan was not doing this right. He was doing this terribly. And everybody knew, and everybody was judging him.

The children’s librarian was a kind, plump older Twi’lek with long silver lekku down to her waist. Madame Hallan had been a personal favorite of Obi-Wan’s when he was a youngling, and he knew that she still had a soft spot for him. She was probably the only librarian who didn’t explicitly distrust him.

He easily kidnapped her for a meeting - or, maybe, she took one look at his face and kidnapped him - and she shepherded him into her office. He had never been inside, and Obi-Wan felt weirdly on the other end of the fence of his childhood. It was bright and cheerful and had datapads scattered everywhere with tax forms.

“I understand you have a new padawan,” Madame Hallan said kindly. “I saw him reading. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

She and half the temple understood that he had a new padawan. “I need your help,” Obi-Wan said, excruciatingly impolitely. Since when was Obi-Wan impolite? Since when was he lost? “It’s Anakin - I need to enroll him for lessons and I need some introductory literature for him and -”

“Dear, you’ll want to talk to Master Ravenholme for that.” Master Ravenholme was the Master of Education, and personal blight of many. “He’ll likely ask Anakin to take a placement test to determine which classes he joins.”

“Anakin can’t take a placement test,” Obi-Wan said. “He can’t read.”

To Madame Hallan’s credit, and raising a lot of questions about what exactly the other Jedi knew about Anakin, she accepted the information with a thoughtful look and a nod. “Does he know his letters and some words, or is it total illiteracy?”

Obi-Wan scrubbed his face. He was perched in the uncomfortable metal chair across from her desk, elbows propped on his knees. “It’s sporadic. He’s not totally illiterate, and I think he can read mechanical instruction manuals and labels and signs and that sort of thing...if it has to do with starfighters, he can write the instruction manual...I don’t know, I haven’t checked, but I can’t send him to class like this…”

“Calm yourself, Obi-Wan. Release that tension into the Force. Let’s take this one step at a time,” Madame Hallan said firmly, as Obi-Wan carefully breathed. “I will schedule a reading and writing assessment appointment for Anakin for an assessment. Knight Fu and Knight Kili are available to administer personal tutoring until we get him up to speed.” Fu and Kili were two teachers in the special education department, which was somewhat lean for children over the age of ten or so. Most of the ‘delayed’ children were quickly assigned to the Jedi Corp. Obi-Wan was highly educated on this, and shamefully bitter. “Now, doesn’t that sound like a plan?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Madame Hallen typed something out on her computer, making Obi-Wan’s datapad ping. “I’ve sent you a few of the handbooks that we give new knights and first-time teachers. Hopefully they’ll be of some use to you.” She smiled reassuringly at him, oozing serenity. “I think you will make a wonderful teacher, Obi-Wan. Our Temple’s never seen a young Jedi as dedicated and hardworking as you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And I’m certain that once you and Anakin get settled in, no matter where he came from, he will make an excellent student. We’re all Jedi here, after all.”

Betting was not Jedi-like behavior, despite the fact that Obi-Wan was a world-class betting champion on three Outer Rim worlds (there had been a diamond heist), but Obi-Wan would bet five hundred credits right now that Anakin was not in the chair where he had left him.

In the end, Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised. Anakin, obviously, was not in the chair where Obi-Wan had left him, but he was within easy searching distance and hadn’t destroyed any droids yet. Instead, he had just meandered to the large picture encyclopedia propped up on a wooden stand, flipping through the flimsi with wide eyes.

Obi-Wan stood next to him, unable to smile but amused all the same. “Do you know what that is?”

Anakin nodded fervently. “It’s an encyclopedia! The padawan guy said it has pictures of every smart species in the galaxy.”

There were, of course, digital databases for these things, but kids loved flipping through things. “Sentient species. Did you learn anything?”

“Yeah!” Anakin lingered on a picture of a Togruta before flipping further at light speed. “The padawan guy said that Qui-gon was a ‘rogue Jedi’ and that he taught you how to do crime and conquer planets and backflip and stuff.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard. “Please don’t listen to Temple gossip, Anakin. It’ll jump down Coruscant while the truth takes an airlift.”

“But you can do backflips, I saw it.” Anakin turned to look at him - eyes wide, unjudging. “What does ‘rogue Jedi’ mean?”

What did it mean? Obi-Wan had spent half his life wondering. “It means that Qui-gon and I had a lot of adventures,” Obi-Wan said tactfully. “My training was somewhat unconventional in comparison with many other Jedi.”

But Anakin just beamed. “That’s so cool! Is my training going to be uncon - unconvectional?”

“Unconventional.” Obi-Wan sighed. “And at this point, I’m afraid so.”

Was Anakin going to resent him for this once he grew older? He must. Anakin would never be a real Jedi, a proper one. Just like Obi-Wan wasn’t. And Obi-Wan had spent almost a decade now frantically, fervently, desperately trying. He had done everything: mastered the art of saber-fighting, excelled in as many topics as he could. He was an expert in diplomacy, politics, ecology, and tactics. Everybody who met Obi-Wan found him charming, graceful, and handsome - and nobody who ever met Obi-Wan liked him. He topped his classes, was better at saberplay than most knights, and had personally saved the lives of three princesses and a memorable duchess, and he couldn’t figure out how to be a Jedi.

Obi-Wan couldn’t teach what he didn’t have. And he would never be able to give -

“Cool! I want to backflip and conquer planets too.” Anakin grinned up at him, yellow teeth flashing in the soft library lights. “I already know how to do crime, I’m really good at it!”

“Jedi have diplomatic immunity, so technically I’ve never done a crime,” Obi-Wan said, somewhat testily.

“What’s diplomatic immunity?”

“Lesson number two, padawan, is that it means we can do whatever we want so long as we can justify it in the mission report.”

“Wizard!”

Maybe Obi-Wan should just never repeat anything Qui-gon had ever said to him. Ever.

In a roundabout act of bribery, Obi-Wan finally led Anakin towards the cafeteria. It wasn’t lunchtime, but few Jedi strictly followed the guidelines of breakfast, lunchtime, and dinnertime. This was mostly because the creche and Initiates did, and nobody wanted to be in the cafeteria while children were everywhere. Obi-Wan was somewhat infamous in certain circles for braving the cafeteria at 0500 hours, when the space was completely overtaken by retired and venerated Masters sipping tea and playing intense grudge matches of shogi. Obi-Wan had been forced into the matter by his habit of waking up at 0430, but the shogi skills he learned had once settled a trade negotiation between two tribal groups with an ancestral grudge on a Mid-Rim planet, so he had no regrets.

Anakin was practically crushing his hand in excitement. His head whipped around everywhere, eyes wide and drinking in the sublimely banal and boring sight. There was the salad bar, there was the meat bar, there was the drink fountain...but to Anakin, it was the most amazing thing on Coruscant. It almost made Obi-Wan smile. When was the last time he had that expression on his face? Even the beautiful spires of Naboo were commonplace to him.

“And they just -”

“Yes, they just give you the food.” Obi-Wan stopped in the center of the crowded thoroughfare - where, thankfully, everybody was far too focused on their meal or their friends to care about the Temple’s newest spectacle. “I’m sorry, Anakin. What do you...eat, again?”

Anakin suffered this atrocious act of caretaking patiently. What had he been eating until now? Just the self-stable noodles? Had he been handling boiling water?! “At home we ate jinjaraak and ekijun. People with money had fruit and stuff.” He looked around hopefully. “And they just give you fruit -”

“Right,” Obi-Wan said. He struggled to remember the food Shmi had served them. It had been mostly gruel. Obi-Wan had been around the block enough to see that she had been an adept cook of terrible ingredients. “Could you give me an idea of what those are?”

“Uh…” Anakin made little slapping motions with his hands. “Jinjaraak is from clay and lard and spices. I help Mom make little cakes. Like this, see?” At Obi-Wan’s dubious expression, he quickly clarified, “From the good clay. Near the dried up rivers. Not the bad clay. That stuff makes you sick. O’la’rek ate some of that and she got super sick and she barfed up blue -”

“Let’s get you some fruit,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin got as much fruit as he wanted. Obi-Wan was too busy thinking about what ‘good clay’ could possibly mean to stop him. He could take the extra back to their quarters, anyway.

There was a line for medical diets, and Obi-Wan eventually shuffled an ecstatic fruit-chomping Anakin into that line. He had to present the script the Halls of Healing gave him to the friendly yet belaboured Padawan working the booth that day, and waited patiently as the Padawan squinted at it and ran off to go get his supervisor. Anakin was in Rylothian Heaven, complete with the trees of plenty.

Eventually the supervisor shuffled out, and when Obi-Wan recognized Master Law he bowed. The gruff Patitite squinted at Obi-Wan, then down at the effervescent Anakin with jogan juice staining his sleeve. It was a good thing Obi-Wan thought ahead and ordered extra robes.

“Kenobi,” Master Law finally said, with an air of crisp memory. “Iron deficiency.”

“Yes, Master.” Please don’t remind him. “I’m here with a prescription for my -”

“And the Vitamin D deficiency. And malnutrition?” Master Law squinted further at Obi-Wan, as if half-convinced that he couldn’t possibly be remembering correctly. “I had you eating Lo’rok paste for a month.”

“Yes, Master. After I was stationed on Neskar.”

“How the blazes was a Padawan stationed on -” Master Law cut himself off abruptly, staring down at Anakin instead. He looked him up and down with sharp eyes, seemingly picking out a dozen things that Obi-Wan just couldn’t see. “I’ll get you the nutrient shakes. See that he has one with every meal, three meals a day. I’m prescribing extra vitamin gummies, he’s a bit yellow. Those dietician hacks at the Halls of Healing don’t know anything about real food.”

Obi-Wan really didn’t want to get in the middle of that, so he just nodded. But Anakin blinked up at the man, flecks of seeds caught on the corner of his mouth. “What’s a gummy?”

“A very sweet, tasty candy,” Master Law said gravely. “Which young Padawans only receive when they are very brave.”

Anakin brightened. “What’s candy?”

“The best food in the galaxy.” Master Law’s stern countenance split into a sharp smile. “Seems like that’s just what the doctor ordered. If you’ve never had any, then that means I have to prescribe you a double dose.”

Anakin grinned to match, bright and wide, with yellow teeth and crinkled eyes. “That means I’m brave! I’m super brave! Padme said so, and you said so, so it’s like I’m extra brave!”

For some reason that he just couldn’t parse, Obi-Wan found himself anxiously saying, “I think you’re brave too, Anakin.”

“Triple brave!”

The cafeteria was quickly proving to be Anakin’s favorite place in the Temple. Obi-Wan was reasonably certain that this was a good thing, because it made Anakin happy and happiness was good. That was a reliable fact of the universe: when happiness was scarce, sweet food could usually supply it. Sometimes you took what you could get.

Obi-Wan made an uncharacteristic move and placed a great deal of sugar on his oatmeal. Dumping sugar on oatmeal was crazy. This was probably what going insane felt like. Obi-Wan felt like a criminal.

“You’re very boring, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said judgmentally.

“I’m afraid so,” the ten time war veteran agreed.

It could be worse. Nobody was around to see his shame but Anakin, and the small child wouldn't squeal. All he had to do was ply Anakin with nutrition shakes and fruit, take him back to their quarters, not leave their quarters again for another two weeks in order to recover from this experience, and -

“Obi-Wan! Goodness, Obi-Wan!”

Both Obi-Wan and Anakin jumped a foot in the air, Anakin fighting to keep his food balanced on his child-sized tray. But Obi-Wan recognized the voice, the smooth familiarity soothing his panicking heart and calming down his padawan by connection.

Despite the fact that the voice was the last person he wanted to see.

Bant didn’t run, because she was a respectable Knight, but she did speedwalk in a dignified waddle towards Obi-Wan and Anakin. Anakin subtly slid closer to Obi-Wan, which he should really discourage.

“Obi-Wan! Oh, goodness, you - you jerk, you big jerk!” Bant wrung her flippers, jowls shaking with the clear uge to wrap up Obi-Wan in her patented tight hug and foiled only by the tray that Obi-Wan was holding in front of him like a shield. “You’re an absolute bantha’s - oh!”

She had just noticed Anakin, who held his tray tightly. He was frowning at Bant, and Obi-Wan could feel a twinge of childish bad emotion across their still nascent bond. Wait. What bond?

Bant was oblivious, or put on a good show of it. “You must be Padawan Skywalker,” she said warmly. She bent down a little, and Obi-Wan was struck by nostalgia for her glimmering eyes and bright smile. Bant loved kids. Obi-Wan never had. “It’s so good to meet you! Have you been taking care of your silly master for me?”

Anakin pursed his lips judgmentally. “My teacher’s not silly,” Anakin said, a bit loudly. “He’s great and smart and does backflips. It’s not his fault he’s a jerk!”

Never mind. Obi-Wan was never taking Anakin out in public again. He carefully destroyed the urge to wince, settling for smiling weakly at Anakin. Bant looked a little taken back - shocked by the idea that Anakin could have taken her friendly teasing seriously. Or maybe that he would openly call Obi-Wan a jerk. Obi-Wan wasn’t going to contest it. It was fair.

“Bant’s my best friend, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, with as much warmth as he could muster. His smile was looking more pathetic than anything, so he dropped it. “She knows how good my backflips are.”

“The best in the Temple!” Bant immediately swore up and down. “I’m awfully sorry, Anakin. I think your master’s the coolest guy here. Come on, why don’t you two come eat lunch with me and the rest of Obi-Wan’s friends? We’ve all been dying to meet the newest member of the family!”

A stone sank in Obi-Wan’s gut. He looked over the crowd, effortlessly picking out the familiar table in the back center. Sure enough, he saw the telltale gawks of Siri and Quinlan.

Joy. The two people he wanted to talk to the least. Those two ate Obi-Wan for breakfast on a good day. They would devour him now. They could smell weakness on him. He couldn’t get anything past them. They would take one look at him and know, just know -

“Obi-Wan has friends?” Anakin asked dubiously. “But he just stays in his room all day.” Went tactfully unsaid: and nobody likes him.

Somehow, the emotional obstacle course his friends were going to put him through was more appealing than the cold judgement of the nine year old. “I have plenty of friends,” Obi-Wan lied through his teeth. “Let’s go say hi.”

It felt like walking to the guillotine. Actually, Obi-Wan had walked to a guillotine before, and this was - no, it wasn’t worse. Hadn’t he done it twice? The first time was stressful, because he wasn’t sure if Qui-Gon had seduced the prison guard yet. The second time was fine, since he had hidden his lightsaber in the loose floorboard under the guillotine before he set up his own capture. So - better than the first time, worse than the second time.

Bizarrely, Siri and Quinlan grinned when they saw them. Obi-Wan was actively fighting the urge to hide behind the nine year old. The nine year old who he couldn’t possibly have formed a training bond with - he had been his padawan all of a week, it was impossible - but who had undoubtedly sensed his anxiety anyway.

“Obi-Wan, I can’t fucking believe it,” Quinlan shouted, far too loudly. He and Bant’s trays were empty, while the slow eater Siri’s bowl of grains were half-eaten. They had been there for a while, probably hours, talking about life. He had always left after thirty minutes. He had stuff to do. “I must have left you ten damn voicemails -”

“You son of a varnaak.” Siri had a death grip on her spoon, wielding it like a lightsaber. “I’m strangling you with your intestine. Not inviting me to your own knighting -”

“If you’re going to be mean, we’re leaving!” Anakin interrupted, voice high and reedy. “I already said so! I will stomp your feet!”

“You’re not allowed to stomp their feet, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, exhausted beyond measure. “Hello, all. Save the interrogation for after we’ve eaten, please.”

And maybe it was the sheer power of Anakin and his mighty feet, but his friends quieted enough for Obi-Wan to shove sugary oats into his mouth and for Anakin to polish off his fruit before starting in on his nutrient shake. Obi-Wan had to stop and take a napkin and wipe the seeds off the corner of his mouth, and help him to insert the straw in the protein shake, but the act of sucking on a straw amused Anakin and he didn’t hate the taste. There were friendly animal species on the cup. Special nutrient shake for chronically malnourished children - now with bright colors!

His friends just watched them, without even food to make the environment faux-casual. Their dark eyes seemed to follow him, and Obi-Wan felt his skin crawl. He didn’t want to deal with this. He could barely deal with Quinlan on a good day, much less...today. Any day, lately.

Finally, his grace period seemed to tick down to zero, and Quinlan broke the ice with a fishing spear and an excess of exuberance. “Is this the famous little guy we’ve heard so much about? I hear you’re a good pilot, kid!”

And, just like that, Quinlan was Anakin’s favorite person on Coruscant. “I’m the best pilot,” Anakin asserted arrogantly. Obi-Wan mentally noted the tendency for arrogance and pride down in the ‘Goal Setting!’ part of his brain that was half-heartedly drafting a training curriculum. “I can blow up anything and anyone.”

“Sounds like Quinlan,” Siri snickered. Unlike Bant, she was terrified of children, but she hid it well. “He and your master are Joballian twins that way. Those two could start a fire in deep space.”

“So who are you people?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan put ‘unbelievably blunt’ in his mental training curriculum. “Are you really Obi-Wan’s friends? He doesn’t like you.”

“I like them very much,” Obi-Wan said rotely. Quinlan pantomimed a shot to the heart.

But Bant just smiled down at Anakin, unflappable. “You’re a padawan, young one. You should call Obi-Wan your master. It’s good to be polite.”

“Why should I have to do that?” Anakin’s voice tinged a little louder, and at a pointed look from Obi-Wan he toned it down. Siri’s eyebrows rose. “He’s my teacher, not a master of no one.”

Bant winced a bit, and all three of them rippled discomfort in the Force. So they knew, even though it wasn’t totally public knowledge. Quinlan had undoubtedly used his ridiculous clearance as a Shadow to access the Naboo mission records and spilled the details to them. Keeping it professional, as always.

“Master means something very different to Jedi,” Bant said gently. “It’s a special relationship between two people. Every Jedi teaches and learns from each other, but your master is the person who guides you and makes sure you go to bed on time. It’s just the same word for a very different thing than you’re used to.”

“What do you mean by that?” Anakin gnawed on his straw suspiciously. “I thought Obi-Wan was the one who taught me.”

Quinlan, who had far more experience with the wider world than Siri and Bant, caught on first. He propped his elbows on the table, and Obi-Wan saw him visibly struggle for the ‘wise teacher’ tone before giving up. “The Jedi have different relationships than you’re used to, kid. Who took care of you and watched you all day back home?”

This was heading into dangerous territory, and Obi-Wan frowned dangerously at Quinlan, but Anakin just hummed. “Mom took care of me and we moved around together. But Old Lady Hun watches me and the other kids in the gathering space when Mom’s busy. And when Jipol was sick, Mom and I took care of her two daughters. And Old Man Wa taught me how to fix things. And -”

“Right. So the Jedi are like that. Instead of a very small number of people raising kids, every adult raises every kid. So, for example, any Jedi would tell you to stop running in the halls or stop you from misbehaving -”

“And every Jedi did, with this one,” Siri added.

“ - but any Knight or Master would help you with your homework, too,” Quinlan finished, elbowing Siri. “We all help each other here. We share food, stuff, school, and teachings. That’s why we practice nonattachment - everything’s everybody’s, not just yours. Make sense?”

Anakin’s brow was furrowed. He paid close attention to everything - chewing everything over again and again until it made sense. Obi-Wan shoveled oatmeal in his mouth, glad Quinlan was doing this. “Why does nonattachment mean you don’t get moms or dads?”

Dangerous territory. Bant opened her mouth to say something soothing, but Quinlan beat her to the punch. “Well, to Jedi, we think the idea of just putting two or three people in charge of kids is pretty crazy. Kids are loud and bouncy. One or two people would get totally stressed out and make mistakes. And imagine just a few people teaching you about life. They could believe all this crazy stuff, and then so would you.”

“And what if the parent’s being a total jerk?” Siri pointed out. “Then the kid’s stuck with that. But when there’s other people around, they can stop and tell the parent that they’re being a total jerk. Then they have to cut it out.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “So nobody beats their kids here because the other Jedi would get mad?”

Awkward silence loomed. Finally, Quinlan said, “Yeah, totally. Anyway, that’s why our way rocks and makes sense. Boom. Teaching moment.” Quinlan slapped the table in victory. “We are so good at this. We’re going to be the greatest teachers ever, Anakin. Forget lame old Obi-Wan, he’s going to lead you down the path of boring. Stick with Knight Vos, I’m gonna lead you down the path that rocks.”

At Anakin’s deeply confused expression, Bant put a hand on his back. But when she spoke she spoke to Obi-Wan, gleaming eyes boring into his. “We’re Obi-Wan’s best friends. We’re going to be here for you almost as much as Obi-Wan is. None of us have padawans yet, so we’re all really excited to help you! Did you know I’m a doctor?”

Anakin perked up. He respected doctors highly - apparently it was a very prestigious position on Tatooine. “Wow! Obi-Wan’s friends with a doctor?”

“And I’m a superspy action hero, kid!” Quinlan flexed, tossing his dreads. “I can teach you how to hack into anything!”

“I’m a better pilot than anyone at this table.” Siri awkwardly waved her fist in the air in a pantomime of excitement. “I’ll help you...fly things. Which you can apparently already do. But I’ll teach you how to do it better.”

The idea was heady to Anakin. His eyes widened, filled with possibility and excitement. Of smiling adult faces, wanting to help. But he looked at Obi-Wan instead, fear sneaking in through the gap bored by long experience with misery. “So what does a master do, then?”

Obi-Wan smiled wanly at Anakin. Experimentally, he tried sending him as much warmth as possible. He didn’t have much to spare, but Anakin seemed to appreciate the sentiment. “I’ll protect you, Anakin. And I’d like it if you continued calling me Obi-Wan.”

And he knew that meant more to Anakin than all the rest. At least Obi-Wan won there.

Although Obi-Wan had gone his entire life despairing for Quinlan’s future padawan, he somehow handled Anakin wonderfully. Even Siri awkwardly asked a question about Anakin’s favorite kind of ship - clearly expecting an answer along the lines of ‘a big one!’ or ‘one that shoots lasers!’ - and sat through Anakin’s ten minute scientific dissertations on the difference in engine ports between Genoshian Special X100 and Genoshian Special X200.

When’s the last time Obi-Wan had a long conversation with Anakin, where they just talked about nothing? He’d been so selfish, focusing entirely on himself and not even thinking about Anakin. His friends were doing this a thousand times better than he was. They should be the one with a padawan, not him. Qui-Gon hadn’t thought he was ready for knighthood until - well, until it was convenient, but if it took him this long to be knighted he ought to be forty before he got a padawan.

In a characteristically deft maneuver, Quinlan had flagged down a friend of his - Ku Lun, a friendly face and teacher to the Initiates - and gave Anakin a real world lesson in Jedi togetherness by asking him to walk Anakin back to their quarters. Anakin shot a panicked look at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan deeply wished to send a panicked look back, but he just nodded supportively.

“Don’t you want to ask Knight Lun about lessons?” Obi-Wan said. “You can work together to design your school.”

The concept of school, and the power to choose it, was obviously heady to Anakin, and he jumped off the bench with only a tinge of reluctance. “Come back to the room in thirty minutes or you’re fired,” Anakin told Obi-Wan gravely, yet nonsensically, before running off with Knight Lun.

It wasn’t until the sounds of Anakin’s chattering faded, then disappeared completely, that Obi-Wan turned back to his friends with a sigh. Their plot had worked. Quinlan and Siri’s perfect score in tactics - second only to his more than perfect score - had won again. He was subject to the masses, and the masses were stressed over his wellbeing.

Better make the pre-emptive strike. “Greetings, my honored friends,” Obi-Wan said dully. “My very best friends in the galaxy, whom I have not spoken to in months.”

“And whose fault is that, you asshole!” Quinlan thumped the table, making the plasteelware rattle, and cuing a withering look from Bant. “You drop out of contact. You leave on a routine diplomatic mission. You get wrapped up in an interplanetary war, obviously, because that’s how your routine missions always go. And you come back with a kid and the head of a Sith?”

“You have the situation well in hand, Quinlan. There’s nothing more I can teach you.”

“Idiot! I’m not asking for a mission report, here.” Quinlan set his mouth, as tempestuous as ever. “Are you okay?”

Was he okay?

Maybe Bant caught something on his expression, because she placed a reassuring flipper on his arm. “We’re sorry about Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan. We know how much he meant to you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“You can’t get rid of us just because you don’t talk to us.” Siri scooped the rest of her oats in her mouth, clearly regretful that she no longer had something to hide behind. “Reeft and Garen feel the same way. You’re lucky Garen’s on a mission, or he would have staked out your door.” He would have. Garen was insane. “I know they waived the two weeks in solitude considering your circumstances, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it. Anakin needs -”

“As his master, I have the best idea of what Anakin needs.” Obi-Wan kept his voice flat, dispassionate. He wasn’t a child anymore, not that impetuous Initiate who yelled and stomped and screamed. Obi-Wan had drowned that anger under thick layers of Jedi robe years ago. “I appreciate and understand your concern. However, I ask for faith in my abilities to handle my padawan.”

“Oh, no. Not the ‘I Am A Perfect Jedi And You Are The Irresponsible Bugs Beneath My Feet’ voice.” Siri didn’t sound amused, as she normally would be while making fun of him. What was funny about speaking properly? “Don’t shut down on us.”

“I’ve never understood where you got the impression that Jedi don’t have feelings, Obi-Wan,” Bant scolded, “but you know it’s not true. Jedi feel their feelings. They feel them and release them. This is you repressing them. They’re just going to fester and get worse if you do that.”

“Yes, Bant. I recieved top marks in Philosophy 101, same as you.” Obi-Wan picked at his sealed up, the rims of thick juice sloshing in the corners, before forcing himself to stop. He forced his hands still on the table, pressing them down hard on the linoleum. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what good a confession would do to all of you. Obviously I miss my master. Obviously I’m all…very sad about it.” Obi-Wan jerked his shoulders in a half-shrug, ignoring everyone’s unimpressed looks. “What good will talking about it do? I have to remain focused. In the real world, you don’t get the luxury of hermitage.”

“Luckily, you’re not in the real world.” Bant’s wry tone imparted the air quotes around ‘real world’. “You’re home. You and Anakin are safe here.” Obi-Wan snorted. “Knight Kenobi, what was that?”

Uh oh. But Siri unknowingly came to his rescue, leaning forward with as intent and sympathetic expression as she could wring from her usually severe countenance. “Don’t give me that dung, Obi-Wan. I cried for a month after Master Tahl died. You were there for me every second of it. What, are you so special that you don’t need help? Are you so much better than us that you don’t feel what every sentient feels? Your ‘better than you’ attitude doesn’t make you better than yourself.”

Bant made a warbling sound of frustration. “Siri, let’s not insult the person we are trying to help.”

“It’s not my fault he’s so - look, this is about Anakin -”

A tightly wound rope of...of something bad snapped in Obi-Wan’s gut. “You don’t think I can handle him.”

“Nobody’s saying that, brother,” Quinlan said, placating for the first time in his life, “but it’s like I was just telling the little guy, right? Nobody can do this by themselves. Cultures that try to do it are - they’re just crazy!”

“None of you think I can do this,” Obi-Wan whispered harshly, trying to keep the - the bad thing locked tight inside, incapable. It wouldn’t stop overflowing, a cup that runneth over. “Nobody in this Temple thinks I’m capable of taking care of him. They don’t think he can be a Jedi. It’s my fault. It’s because he has such a fuck-up for a master.”

Everybody around him suddenly radiated extreme alarm in the Force in unison. Was it really that unusual for him to say the words that swirled around in his head every hour of the day?

“Obi-Wan, we’re the fuck-ups. I mean, me and Siri and Garen. You and Bant are the Rylothian angels here.”

“That’s not what everybody else thinks,” Obi-Wan said lowly. “I’ve always been tainted because of Qui-Gon. Now just being around me is going to taint Anakin. Everybody knows it.”

“Tainted?” Bant asked with alarm. What was alarming? “What are you talking about -”

But Obi-Wan barrelled through her, unwilling to hear whatever sweet and placating words she had for him today. He stood up, carefully stepping off the bench and fussily fixing his robes with hands that did not shake. “We are going to prove it to them. Anakin will become a Jedi. I will make Anakin a Jedi, if it’s the last thing I do.”

He swept off, feeling a little bit dramatic, feeling as if he had expelled the smallest amount of emotion he could. That was the least he could give, portioning out bits of himself to the hungry and braying crowd.

Why did they want these pieces of him so desperately? What was valuable about these hideous parts of Obi-Wan - the fear, the insecurity, the nightmares shaking him awake each night? People like Bant and Quinlan dug and dug and dug until they found what they were looking for, as if they wanted to prove something to themselves, to him, to the Jedi.

Prove that he was inferior. Prove that he was just as wild and angry as everybody always said. Prove that his flimsy mask of ‘A Perfect Jedi’ was nothing more than a stage actor placing a pulp-mache bantha’s head mask over his face and strutting about as if he was a king. Prove what Qui-Gon had always thought of him: that any love for him could only be held at arm's length, that a kid who needed to prove himself never required support or a helping hand, that there was no such thing as ‘good enough’ when you lived in competition with ghosts and shadows.

Prove what everybody knew, and what Obi-Wan could not hide.

***

When Obi-Wan got home, Anakin was lying on the ground committing atrocities upon the ravaged corpse of a pilfered library droid.

“Please start putting down a tarp when you do that,” Obi-Wan said. “You’ve been getting oil into the carpet.” He paused a beat. “And please stop sneaking away from chaperones.”

“But I need to practice sneaking away from good guys so I can be good at sneaking away from bad guys! And it’s not like I was caught.” Anakin didn’t look up at him, absorbed in his work. “That’s Jedi lesson three, right? ‘Do whatever you want, just don’t get caught’?”

“When had - why do -” Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, already regretting the one day exposure to Qui-Gon. But..in the face of that logic, Obi-Wan was forced to concede. It was objectively true. “Yes. But make an exception for me. Just don’t get caught by others.”

“You got it! Hey, pinch this wire for me.”

So Obi-Wan lay down on his stomach across from Anakin, staring at him from over a sea of rusty machinery. His round little face, somehow still clinging onto baby fat, was smooth as only a child’s could be. It was flaky and rough from the blistering heat of twin suns, but he had ointment now. His featherly light blonde hair would darken without its sunshine bleach, and it would grow long in limp brown shags. He would look like his mother - if, apparently, there was no father to speak of.

His expression was screwed up in concentration, tongue poking out of his teeth as he carefully screwed in a bolt where it likely was not intended to go. There was something strangely beautiful about him in that moment - an intelligence at work, a powerful focus rarely applied. He glowed in the Force like a sun, overwhelming and breath-taking.

But when Obi-Wan’s breath caught, he wasn’t sure if it was the Force. Maybe it was just Anakin. Could you fall in love like this? Just by looking at somebody, just by feeling how great they could be? Stronger than Obi-Wan, more righteous than Qui-Gon? Kinder than Master Dooku, more vibrant than Grandmaster Yoda?

Could he be better? Or would Obi-Wan only make him worse?

“Do you like my friends?” Obi-Wan whispered.

“Gimmie a min’.” Anakin finished screwing the bolt, huffing at the piece. “Bad. Gotta redo...what didya say?”

“Do you like my friends?”

“Oh!” Anakin brightened. “They’re super cool and awesome Jedi! They’re just like I thought Jedi would be. Bant’s a doctor! Did you know that?”

“I did.” A pang shot through Obi-Wan’s heart. “They’d be better teachers than I. I’m sorry, Anakin. I’m sorry you’re stuck with…”

“No way! I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s expression crumpled a little, although he bravely tried to keep it straight. He was already picking that up from Obi-Wan. “I’m why everybody keeps looking at us weird...it’s all my fault. All the Jedi hate us.”

“Anakin, no. The Jedi love all sentient beings.” Judging from Anakin’s expression, Obi-Wan was speaking straight bantha poodoo and acting as if the Corellian moons were made of cheese. “It’s true. They’d - they’d all help you. You don’t need to rely on me.”

Wires hissed and sparked. Anakin was quiet for a moment, stripping some wires with a deft, chubby hand and tying them together. He reached out to grab a blowtorch, but at Obi-Wan’s dangerous expression he carefully retreated his hand. It was a matter of time until he was using his lightsaber to solder metal. Incorrigible. Finally, Anakin said, “What Mr. Quinlan -”

“Knight Quinlan.”

“Knight Quinlan was talking about how you’re just there to guide me and teach me the Jedi way for a few years. And they all acted like the master and padawan thing is so special and great, but…” His face crumpled a little, overcome by an emotion he couldn’t name. “When we had to leave Mom behind...I thought that meant that you were going to be Mom now. But they aren’t going to let us. They’re going to make other people teach me because they don’t like you, and - and - and!”

Fat tears were rolling down Anakin’s cheeks, no matter how hard he scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Obi-Wan quickly sat up and moved closer to Anakin, wrapping him in a hug and letting Anakin press his head into Obi-Wan’s tunic. He would probably have to get this one cleaned with Anakin’s robe. He didn’t know why he was focusing on that instead of Anakin’s hitched breaths as he tried to control his tears.

“Nobody’s going to take you away from me, Anakin.” That wasn’t what he meant to say. That was far too possessive. That hadn’t come out right. But what had Obi-Wan meant to say? “We all just want what’s best for you. You might be happier with the others.” Obi-Wan faltered. “You could be a normal child here. Take lessons. Play with the other children. Learn and grow and be happy. My padawanship, Anakin...it was dangerous and isolated. That’s the kind of life I’ve always lived. I don’t want to expose you to that.”

Anakin separated from him, eyes red-rimmed but dry. “They aren’t strong! All the kids and the old people here - they’re weak! Nothing bad’s ever happened to them, so they think sad people like us are freaks. But you’re strong, Obi-Wan. I want to be strong and just like you. I’m not embarrassed to be your padawan.” He faltered a little, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s okay that you’re sad and that I had to make food for a little bit. Mom would get sad sometimes too. She couldn’t leave bed and stuff. I would take care of Mom and make her food. I don’t mind making you food. The slaves all had each other, we did, but...Mom and I took care of each other. We can take care of each other. It’s just you and me. Right?”

Obi-Wan embraced Anakin tightly, fighting to control his breathing. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the correct way to do this. He had to be more like Qui-Gon - professional and strong and affectionate. Qui-Gon would have never let Obi-Wan cling to him like this, swearing an oath that neither of them should ever make.

Nobody was going to help them. None of them had ever forgotten how Obi-Wan had been a failure as a child, and none of them were ever going to forget where Anakin came from. No matter what they all said, their bright smiles and helping hands - none of them understood what it was like. It was just Obi-Wan and Anakin from now on.

In some strange way, it felt as if it had always been. As if Obi-Wan had only been alone, because he had not met or loved Anakin yet.

This wasn’t the kind of master Obi-Wan should be. He should be discouraging this desperation and neediness. But he couldn’t discourage it in himself, and he had no idea how to quench it in either of them.

As the Rylothians would say - if this was a sin, then hell had greater need of him than heaven.

He would put in the request for active mission duty. If Anakin grew up like he did - in the midst of adventure and hardship - then he could attain the strength he so desired. That was all Obi-Wan knew how to offer, and that was Qui-Gon’s legacy.

“It’s just you and me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan swore, and damned himself. “It’s just you and me…”

#star wars #sw #star wars fanfic #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #bant eerin #siri tachi #quinlan vos #this is the first and last star wars thing you will ever get from me #please don't ask the rationale i have secrets #i like to think that nothing bad happens in this universe #(it's not an AU but it's not NOT an AU? up to interpretation)#because Obiwan in canon is on anakin's ass about everything #and here he's just one of those single parents who's like 'ok so long as you're fed and not on fire i don't have energy to care #about anything else'#I think this was written from joking about how comedically and weirdly terrible obiwan's childhood was #and from my own personal feelings about the weird way the sw fandom understands communal childcare #and nonattachment #It Does Not Mean What You Think It Means (Because George Lucas Is A White Guy Buddhist!)#if you're wondering if the behavior by the jedi here is realistic or nomal or if it's positive or negative #I have lived in a monastery and it is the most accurate thing you will ever see in a SW fic #my writing

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Snail Mail

Covers the Love Letters Square on thatesqcrush ‘s Valentines Bingo! Casey Novak x fem! Reader Warnings: Language. The tiniest hint of sadness

The day that Casey Novak got suspended broke your damn heart. Not only was she the A.D.A you’d been working with for the past four years, your squad lost a detective the same night, more importantly, you noticed she seemed distant at the crime scene. It was only once you both returned home (at much separate hours) that you realized something was less than okay with your girlfriend. She cried into your arms about the looming threat losing her license, worried that she wasn’t going to be able to do what she loved anymore.

Not that she regretted what lead up to it, she knew she’d been digging herself her own grave with every scoop of the shovel. She’d simply hoped that she would maybe, somehow, be able to get away with it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t so lucky this time. The morning of her hearing you wrapped her in your arms as tightly as you could, wishing her good luck, kissing her gently and reminding her not only how much you loved her, but how wonderful of a prosecutor she was, how much good she had done over the past four years, the amount of victims she’d helped outweighed whatever today brought.

You heart was crushed when you got the text from her halfway through the day, she had been censured, her license suspended for two years, subsequently let go from her position at the D.A’s office. You promptly asked if you could take the rest of the day as a personal, and were thankful when it was allowed, it had been slow after all. You met Casey at home with a bottle of her favourite wine and the best takeout you could find. You listened to everything she had to say, the emotion pouring out of her, the sorrow of being brash enough to make a mistake like that, the anger over the case going south, and the fact that she was just trying to make sure the bad guys didn’t always win. You listened to all of it, and comforted her as you did. She thanked you for every second of it, making sure you knew just how much she loved you.

A month later, your heart was destoryed once more.

You came home from work, exhausted after spending all day with a six year old girl who’s stepfather had been sexually abusing her. She’d stuck to you like glue, you were the only one she would talk to, and started to bawl everytime you tried to leave the room, even if it was just to use the bathroom. You’d finally managed to get her settled with social services, praying that she’d stay asleep at least until they got her into the car. You were mentally and physically drained, it was well past nine p.m. and you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. All you wanted to do was curl up against your girlfriend, shove some pizza in your face and down it with a couple of beers to forget the day.

You were surprised when you got home to Casey at the kitchen island, for a moment, it was almost like old times. She was on her laptop, a legal pad beside her that had a series of scribbles on it. She took a moment, still concentrated on the screen as you rid yourself of your shoes and coat before she greeted you.

“Hey!”

“Someone seems happy.” You smiled, wrapping your hands around her to kiss her softly, humming at the way you sank against her frame.

“I got a job offer today.”

“Really?!” Your previous exhaustion vanished, your head jumping up with a look of glee on your face, “for what?”

“It’s just a paralegal job, but it’ll keep me busy til I can actually work again.”

“Baby! I am so proud of you.” You planted a passionate kiss on her, the smile evident on your lips, “what firm is it with?”

“Uh..” suddenly she ducked away from your gaze, “that’s…the other thing…”

“Case…” you felt your chest tighten, “what?”

“It’s…in Chicago..” she risked a glance up at you, “they offered me a minimum two year contract. It’ll cover my entire censure, and if I don’t get my license back..I’ll still have a job.”

“Yeah…in Chicago.” You dropped your hands from her body, trying to hold back the tears, “are…are you breaking up with me?”

“No! No baby, no!” She hopped off the stool, her hands cupping your cheeks and you could see her own tears pooling in her eyes, “I could never. I…I just need something to keep me going.”

“Am I not enough?”

“Oh babe.” She pulled you to her, kissing your forehead softly, “you’re more than enough, but you know what I mean, don’t you? How would you feel if you lost your shield in New York but Chicago offered you a new one.”

“I’d want to go.” You tearily replied, glancing up at her, you may have agreed but you hated every second of this.

“Know that I wasn’t just going to up and leave, I wanted to talk to you first.” She kissed both your cheeks, then your nose, her thumb swiping at the stray tear, “I love you more than anything. I want to spend my life with you. I’m hoping a few years of long distance won’t change that.”

“I’m…I’m just gonna miss you so fucking much…”

The stress of the day got the best of you, launching into her arms as you practically sobbed against her. Casey was surprised, though she later found out why you’d been so emotional that night. You worked out the agreement over the next couple of weeks. You shared a two bedroom apartment, the second one set up as a guest room, to help with costs you would rent it out so Casey wasn’t paying rent in two cities. You agreed to at least try to fly out to the other person on major holidays, though your anniversary remained the most important (and most unrequested off by your coworkers).

It was as you started to talk about setting up communication that was more than just a facebook like or comment that Casey realized something. There was something so impersonal about social media, or setting up a weekly FaceTime date when both of you were going to be working odd hours at strange jobs. If you set something up to talk, you could be undercover and your phone could blow it. That was when she suggested it, it may take more time to get between Chicago and New York, but why not go old school, write literal letters to each other?

You beamed at the idea, kissing her so passionately she would’ve thought she’d proposed, it was the happiest she’d seen you since the idea of her moving out of state had come up. You loved it, you loved the idea of getting mail, of looking forward to it. Getting to see something Casey had taken the time out of her day to actually hand write, to know that no one else was ever going to see the private words between the two of you, it made you giddy inside.

The day she left you were still heartbroken, tears streaming down your face as you said your goodbye’s at the airport, snuggling against her so deeply you hoped you’d be able to remember it for as long as you needed. Returning home you a an entire pint of ice cream while you marathoned the Bridget Jones movies, this time crying over someone else’s disastrous life. It was the next night as you came home from work, checking the mail that you found the first letter, there was no return address or stamp, meaning Casey had stashed it before she left.

‘Hi my love.

I know things are going to be tough, especially as we adjust to this new phase. I’m so sorry that I was dumb enough to let this happen. Despite all the differences, there is no squad I would rather be working with. I already miss all of them, but I obviously miss you the most. You are my light, my sun, my shining stars, don’t ever forget that. I will miss you so incredibly hard, and I will think of you everyday that we’re apart.

You mean the world to me,

I love you,

Casey.’

It was safe to say you cried a lot of happy and sad tears that day.

‘Case,

Holy fuck do I ever miss you. This new A.D.A is a fucking annoying bitch. And she’s dirty talked you at least twice already. I’m about to throw a punch. The entire squad thinks she’s useless, so believe me, it’s not just me being biased. It’s weird being in the apartment without you, the first week was quiet, too quiet. Then Brandi moved in. It’s like she never stops talking, or singing, even if it’s not to me, she literally never shuts up. I’m so glad she’s only here for a few months. The bed still doesn’t feel right. It’s cold without you, I needed to add an extra blanket to make up for it and even that’s not enough. I ran into Donnelly the other day, she asked about you, I nearly burst into tears. I honestly thought she might’ve thought you were dead for a second before I explained. She said she’s sorry that she had to do it, and hopes you accept her apology in the future.

I can’t wait to see you again,

All my love,

Y/n’

‘Baby,

It sounds like this new A.D.A won’t last long, you shouldn’t have much to worry about. Though you should remember that a lot of the squad hated me when I first started, try to not judge her just quite yet. I’m so sorry the first roomie ended up being garbage, if it makes up for it I’ve been living with third and fourth year law students and it is horrible. Not only do none of them seem to sleep, but they (and all of their friends) constantly have questions for me. I wish I found a place on my own. I know what you mean about the bed, even a smaller one feels absolutely deserted without you my love. Nothing compares to you wrapped around my body. I did get a weighted blanket, and it’s helped me be able to sleep, maybe you could try one? If you see Liz again, tell her I don’t hate her, she was just doing her job, I still respect her.

I miss you terribly, more and more with each day that goes by. I’ve constantly been thinking that maybe this wasn’t the right idea. I just want to be in your arms again.

Love,

Casey’

‘Casey,

You did not make the wrong choice, we’ll work through this, we love each other too much not to. Besides, Christmas is coming up and I want to see real snow for the first time in my life. I hope you’re ready to take a couple days off to make snow men and have snowball fights and snuggle up in your tiny bed with hot chocolate while we watch sappy Christmas movies.

Can’t wait to see you,

I love you my sweet,

Y/N.’

Christmas was spent giggling like goddamn school girls, Casey had practically jumped on you in the airport, happy tears leaking from both of you. She showed you the most impressive Christmas sights of Chicago, but you were much more interested in keeping her otherwise occupied. You didn’t care if her roommates knew the shenanigans going on, you only cared about spending time with your one true love while you had the time together. You spent every second together, thankful the house was finally empty as everyone left for the holidays, being able to bury yourselves in each other’s arms with no judgement. You jokingly told her that the weighted blanket somehow helped and she smiled, knowing what you meant, it was as if someone was hugging you, even if you were alone in bed.

Before you knew it, the holiday was coming to a close, and you were due back in New York, tears brimming both your eyes as Casey dropped you off at the airport. Obviously you kept in touch via texts and calls, but the letters, those were something of love, usually sealed with a lipstick kiss (even if neither of you wore it) or a spray of perfume, there was always something special about receiving a letter. She kissed you passionately, reminding you she’d be back in New York before you knew it, you kissed her once more, your heart nearly going in for seconds before your flight was called and you had to turn away a soft ‘I love you’ echoing from both of you.

Returning to New York was harder than you thought, you should’ve expected it, this time of year, post Christmas, there wasn’t much to look forward to. Crime took a spike on New Year’s Eve, and all things considered you were okay with taking the overnight shift, thankful when you had the free time to FaceTime Casey at midnight both yours and her time to ring in the New Year and blow a kiss.

‘Holy fuck! Case!

You were certainly right about that A.D.A not lasting long! She got sent back to D.C yesterday….and none other than the Alex Cabot is replacing her! I am amazed. Thank fucking god we have someone good again! You never told me how incredible she was. Wow! I’m honestly a little awestruck. How’s Chicago baby? Any interesting cases? I know you never like to celebrate it, but I’m honestly excited about Valentine’s Day coming up. Mark me down as soft, okay? My only wish is that I could spend it with you.

My love,

Y/N’

‘Baby,

You better not be swooning over Alex right now. I get that she’s great, but I’m still better, not to mention…yours…. Chicago’s fine my love. I’m just trying to power through and get back to you as soon as I can. I’m so sorry that they’ve got me trapped working over Vday. All I’d hoped was getting to spend the weekend with you, you mean everything to me, you know that right? Love,

Casey.’

‘Baby!

I could never swoon over another prosecutor, you’re the only one for me, even If you are three states away from me. I know you’d much rather be here to celebrate, and I’d much rather show you how much I love you than anything else,

I know you miss that ;)

Y/N’

Valentine’s Day rolled around and you were thankful for the lack of cases, though, you knew there would probably be an influx the next morning. You gave Fin a wave as he began to ask for the early night off, it wasn’t like you had anywhere to go anyways. A few hours later you finally wrapped up, making sure you had everything before leaving the squad room.

You were more than a little bummed when you got home, the mailbox empty aside from a couple of bills and takeout menus. Trudging upstairs you were at least relieved to remember you were between roomates at the time, meaning you could celebrate the evening in sadness without being interrupted. Shedding your coat and shoes you dumped your bag in a spare chair, pulling out your phone to shoot off a text while you fingered through the take out menus to see if there was anything new.

‘Happy Valentines Day Baby. I miss you so fucking much right now. I hope your card got to you on time. I love you so much. Xo’

Figuring Casey was still at work you didn’t expect a reply right away, instead you placed an order for entirely too much pad Thai and cracked a bottle of wine. The t.v was overrun with cheesy romantic movies and episodes of shows, making you feel even more alone in the chilly apartment. You grabbed your weighted blanket from the bedroom and turned on a sci fi movie to distract you. It was mere seconds after your food arrived that your phone buzzed with a text from Casey.

‘Happy Valentines Baby. I love you so much, the card was wonderful. Did you get yours?’

‘Nothing but bills, maybe it got lost?’

You pouted at the thought, that was the downside to this whole letter thing, the post office was known for losing things, the thought of Casey’s loving words never getting to you stung today in particular.

‘It may have been a package and not just a letter, was there nothing in the hall when you got home?’

‘Nope. :(‘

‘It’s probably too big for the mail box, was there anything on the floor in the vestibule?’

Groaning, you pushed up from the couch, you hadn’t even had time to crack open your food yet, but you told her you’d check. If there was something you��d missed, being too distracted going through the mail you’d hate someone else to snag it. Grabbing your keys you jogged down the stairs, this better be worth it. Pushing open the brown door you shrieked as you saw what, more like, who was on the other side of it.

“Baby!” You launched at Casey, wrapping around her in the tightest hug you could possibly handle. Her heart swelled at your genuine reaction, she’d low key been worried about managing to pull the whole thing off, but just that one moment made it worth it. You oh so slightly pulled away, leaning into her palm as she cupped your cheek as she kissed you. The moment felt like pure heaven, the feeling of her arms around your, lips against yours again.

“Surprise.”

“Best surprise ever.” You giggled, happy tears invading your eyes, unable to resist kissing her again. “What about Chicago? I thought you were swamped with work?”

“Chicago can wait.” She kissed you gently, “I can think of something much more important than work right now.”

“God I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you even more.” She laid her lips to your forehead, “but it’s fucking freezing down here, can we go up?”

Laughing, you detangled yourself from her limbs, making sure to keep your hand linked with hers while you practically dragged her back up to the apartment. You didn’t even give her a choice as you tugged her to the couch and intertwined your limbs into hers, love and peace wrapping around the two of you. And honestly, she wouldn’t have it any other way. She may not have had much time to spare in New York, but she was incredibly happy to get to spend what little time she did with you, munching on takeout and simply enjoying each other’s company, love oozing between you.

Roughly six months later Casey arrived home from work, a tiny parcel in her mailbox with your return address on it. A note scrawled ‘call me one you get this’ placed inside, so she did as you asked, picking up the phone.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi…” she smiled at the sound of your voice, “I…you’ve got me stumped with this one.”

“With what?” You teased back.

“You sent me a ring pop with no context?” Casey laughed as she moved through the house, hoping she could find some privacy from her roomates behind the walls of her room.

“Well I couldn’t possibly send the real one through the mail.” You said it so plainly as if it would make perfect sense to her.

“What?” Her brow furrowed as she turned the corner into her room, freezing at the sight of you perched on the edge of her bed. In return you simply smiled, hanging up the phone and holding up a small box as you stood.

“You’re due home in a month, and all this time apart has made me realize just how much I love you, the lengths we were willing to go to carry our love through hard times. As much as I’d love you home as my girlfriend, I’d much rather have you home as my fiancée.”

“Yes!”

“Case!” You swatted at her arm, “you’re supposed to let me ask first.” Giving you a bashful smile, she dropped her arm, letting you crack open the box as you cupped her face in your hand, “marry me?”

“In a fucking heartbeat.” She tugged you in for a kiss, soft and incredibly gentle, full of adoration. As much as she wished to deepen it, the smiles on both your cheeks were too wide to even attempt it, collapsing in a small fit of giggles as you slid the ring onto her finger.

You spent the next two days in Chicago, happy to have the time to spend with your fiancée, but even more eager for the day she’d be home, and be home for good. You were more than ready to spend your lives together. And this time really together.

#casey novak #casey novak fluff #casey novak x reader #law and order svu #svu #law and order #casey novak one shot

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luvlyrv · 3 years

Text

Uncover | Seulgi x F!Reader

Genre/warnings: fluff, angst, homophobia (religious)

Summary: You quickly learn that while it was easy to be dishonest with yourself, it was nearly impossible to lie to Seulgi.

Word Count: 4.7k A/N: This has been something wracking up in my brain since June. It's kind of embarrassing that it's taken this long but it's a lovechild of my emotions. Enjoy, and I hope you feel things.

Date: 9/21/21

You can't imagine a day without her, because she's always been there. Right from the day you could remember. You bet that she could be your last memory too.

Your first memory has you sitting in the living room playing with your toys as you anxiously eye the other child in the room. Some strangers had rung your doorbell and your mom and dad had welcomed them into the house. Now they were in the kitchen, their voices blending into each other in the background.

The small girl in front of you decided to take the liberty of picking up your toys and playing with them. She ran around playing in the imaginary world in her head. You think that she's having fun and that you want to have fun too, but you can't seem to move from your position. As you slowly try to build up the courage to talk to her she approaches you.

She had been glancing at you from the corner of her eyes too. She watched your shy self idly playing all alone. She found it hard to approach you, scared of you pushing her away or being mean, but she thought maybe it was worth it. You could be a friend.

"Hi!" The strange girl is right in front of you with one of your stuffed toys in hand. "Do you want to play with me? I'm Seulgi!"

"I'm Y/N…"

For the rest of the hour the two of you chased each other in a shared adventure. Enraptured in your own little wonderland until your parents had to pull you apart.

Soon it became a ritual for those strangers, who you later learned to be Mr. and Mrs. Kang, to visit your house. Along them was always their daughter Seulgi, who wouldn't hesitate to pull you into a large hug right before starting a new adventure with you.

You slightly trail behind your best friend. You smile at yourself from the sight of Seulgi happily skipping, somehow filled with even more vigor than she usually has. She's always been filled with much more energy than you, amazed by even the smallest of things. You suppose something truly spectacular must be happening today for her to feel so extra. She turns her head over to look at you, flashing you her perfect smile with her perfect cheeks. The ones you always want to squish when you remind her of how cute she is.

She continues to bounce but slows down to be by your side. One of the favorite parts of your day, and hopefully hers too, would be the peaceful walk the two of you would always share before and after school. It always reminded you of how close you are. How you can always rely on her to listen and to brighten up your day.

She bites her lip while still smiling. She must be thinking about something.

"What's got you so excited today?" You ask her with a giggle.

"Guess!" She pesters leaning into you. A familiar feeling emerges in your chest from the contact.

"You know I'm really bad at guessing…"

"Well why can't you try?"

"All I know is that it has to be something really special, right?" You decide to lean back and push her a little as a tease.

"It is! Mom and dad bought me my favorite ice cream that we can share later today!"

You laugh at her as she continues giving her dumb smile. Seulgi moves in front of you with her eyebrows raised, waiting to hear your opinion about the news.

"Is that it?" You ask still laughing. She pouts a little.

"What do you mean 'is that it'? It's my favorite! And I get to share it with you!" With that you pull Seulgi in for a side hug.

"I'm kidding, I'm excited too."

You enjoy listening to whatever nonsense Seulgi thinks about and decides to spill to you as you guys continue walking. You feel a bit disheartened at the sight of the school building, but looking at Seulgi again is enough to make the disappointment go away.

As much as you wish it did, your schedule wasn't entirely with your best friend. Instead you had to split up as you entered the school grounds to your different classes. Fortunately you shared at least some classes with her, and most importantly lunch. So when you sit down at your desk with nobody talking to you, you don't feel too lonely. The anticipation of being reunited with Seulgi was enough for you.

As usual Seulgi finds your figure sitting down at a lunch table and immediately rushes towards you. She taps your shoulder as she sits down, hurriedly opening up her lunch box, her beastly appetite striking again.

"Oooh." She oogles as the both of you breathe in the sudden aroma of homemade food. You peer over to look at the contents of her lunch box. You swore that you can see the steam coming off of her rice.

"Open up!" Seulgi playfully demands of you. You oblige as she not so carefully throws a grape your way. It would've been lost if you didn't move your head to make up for the completely inaccurate trajectory.

"How are you still bad at this?" You ask her after chewing.

"Maybe I just like to see you work for your food." You laugh at her response as you carefully pick up a spring roll from your box and place it in hers.

"Mom fried it this morning so you better enjoy."

You enjoy the long-time tradition of sharing food and eating in relative silence. That time was short lived though as a small group of girls joined your table. You didn't mind them much, you'd even consider them casual friends. At the same time though, they were bothering you.

You found it strange that despite finally being with Seulgi you felt so lonely. So lost.

Seulgi's popular, you know that. A lot of people try to befriend her and fight for her attention. Being the social butterfly she is she never hesitated to say hello back and return the friendliness. By proxy you met a lot of nice people, a lot of not so nice people, and more. They never really stuck by for you though. They stayed for Seulgi.

You wish you understood why you were so bothered by those that stayed. Why you were always feeling jealous recently. You wonder if it's natural to feel so intensely sick when you watch your best friend's attention be pulled away by several different girls at a time, or laugh at a guys joke. Well, maybe you do know why.

You quietly sigh and push the thought away, instead trying to join in the chatter and laugh with everyone at the table. Just as you were about to calm down and ease into the group a sudden large group of guys and girls approach. One boy in particular seems to be leading the pack. You purse your lips as you silently watch them come over. Seulgi absent-mindedly continues talking, completely unaware of what was about to occur.

You tighten your hands into a ball as a feeling bubbles inside you. You can't place what it is. Is it fear? Anger? Jealously? It's probably both.

The boy also tightens his hands as they grip onto his shirt. You watch him bite his lip and see how a red color crawls up his neck and reaches the tips of his ears. You hold in a breath as he finally arrives at the table and Seulgi looks up at him.

"S-Seulgi." He barely manages to say her name aloud.

"Huh?" She looks at him cluelessly but gives him her full attention anyways.

"I like you! A lot! So if you can, please go out with me!" The boy's words spill out, as if his mouth was a floodgate holding them back. He reaches behinds him and quickly bends over to give Seulgi a piece of red paper, shaped like a heart. He probably wrote about his feelings extensively on it.

Your eyes had been focused on the love-stricken boy. It's hard for you to move your eyes towards Seulgi. You realize now what you're feeling. You fear what you'll see when you look over at Seulgi to see her reaction.

You notice that she's red too, the color slowly blossoming across her cheeks.

Why does this hurt you?

"Erm, ah, thank you." She says out of politeness and bows back. She gives him a smile and that seems to excite him. "I'll think about your confession."

He eagerly nods his head and leaves the table, happy with the results of his actions. The crowd around him seem to think that was a good ending and started whispering and congratulating him. You look back at your table and the girls are murmuring too.

"He's cute, you should definitely go for him!"

"I heard he treated his last girlfriend nicely. They're still on good terms."

"I've never seen you date before. Isn't now your time to explore?"

Seulgi just takes it all in and nods along with what they say. Your head hangs low as you pick at your food. You don't dare look up. You're scared of seeing Seulgi's face again. You're scared that tears will start falling.

It was like the weight of the world had fallen on your chest.

When the bell dismisses you from lunch you quickly go to your next class. You don't say goodbye to Seulgi or any of the other girls. You feel the light graze of Seulgi's fingertips as she tries to stop you, but you're too fast.

The rest of the school day is you trying to focus on studying, and when your last class finishes you're not sure what you'll do. Everybody leaves the classroom before you as you take some time for yourself. Breathing in and out, you mentally prepare yourself to face Seulgi, as if she was some type of monster.

As you exit the building and get near the gates you see a swarm of people with Seulgi in the center. They're probably there to ask about how she feels about the confession that happened. You sigh and almost contemplate leaving without her, but her eyes quickly find yours. Seulgi politely but abruptly says her goodbyes and runs towards you.

As Seulgi's figure grows nearer there's a feeling of satisfaction. It was like you had won some petty fight, and that feeling was able to erase the fear and nerves you had earlier. A smile grows on your face she reaches your side, your bodies automatically matching your steps. You enjoy the warmth when she locks her arm with yours. Not knowing what to say, you let silence fill the space in between the two of you until Seulgi decided to break it.

"So, do you wanna stay at my place for a bit so we can eat that ice cream?"

Seulgi's keys jingle as she unlocks her front door. You follow in after her, putting your shoes away as she dashes towards her refrigerator to retrieve the ice cream from the freezer. You walk up towards her as she hands one to you. Naturally, both of you make your way outside into her backyard.

Her backyard is quaint, housing a nice garden that her mother often tends and one large tree. The two of you rest under it, appreciating the winding arms of the apple tree that has always given you and Seulgi refuge. You enjoy the taste of the ice cream, perhaps the shade was enhancing its flavor. Either way you understood why its Seulgi's favorite. The refreshing taste and Seulgi's presence puts a smile on your face. You feel yourself opening up again as you guys joke and talk about your day in between bites and licks. By the time you finish eating your ice cream she had managed to convince you that she needed your extra help in math. As always you agreed to tutor her.

She argues that you should stay underneath the tree as she gets up to throw away the trash. You watch as she goes back inside the house, coming out again with a shiny apple in hand that was picked only a couple days ago. You laugh a little as you ask,

"Still hungry?"

"Enough for a little snack."

She sits by you and takes a rest on your lap. You brush her hair away as you look into her eyes. You can tell she's thinking about something.

"What's wrong?" You ask her.

"Well, I was just wondering, why were you upset earlier?" She says in a serious tone.

"Huh?"

"You didn't even say goodbye at lunch, and don't pretend I didn't notice you almost leaving without me." There's a hint of hurt in her voice. You feel bad for not keeping your emotions in check better, that you threw a fit over something so small.

"Well," Your voice trails off as your mind struggles to think of a response, "what does that boy mean to you?" You decide to ask.

"Oh so now you want to know about that too?" There's only a slight annoyance in her voice as she gives you an eyeroll.

"I'm your best friend, of course I'm curious." Seulgi huffs at your response. She can't blame you for wondering so she takes a moment to think before answering honestly.

"I mean, I guess they weren't wrong. He's kinda cute, and I know it took a lot for him to say that to me. I admire him for it." She said it in a casual manner, as if it wasn't a big deal. Yet for you it meant everything. And it hurt.

You can't control the frown that found its way on your face.

"Hey…" Seulgi quickly gets up from your lap. She has a confused expression as her eyes scans yours. "Hey, what's wrong?" Her voice is soft as she puts a hand on your shoulder.

Your chest is about to explode.

"Do you like him or something?" She continues to grip onto your shoulder with a confused face. She thinks she was the one who did something wrong. That she's stealing someone away from you, but that was so different from the truth.

"No, Seulgi, I-" You pause to think about what you're going to say. Something was about to come out instinctively, and you don't know whether or not that was the best decision.

"You what?"

She presses you for an answer but you're still thinking. You're thinking about you know you can't handle her possibly being close to someone else. To share all of her laughs with that boy. To smile at him and spend time with him. To do all the things that exists between you and her. Living would feel wrong if you were no longer the one she ran to and spilled her secrets to.

Who are you if not Seulgi's biggest and only confidant? The only one who could soothe her in her darkest moments? The one who understands every feeling and thought just by the way she blinks?

You're intimately familiar with the feeling in your chest now. You think that you know what it is too, but that doesn't make you hate it any less. If you could, you'd sacrifice every fiber of your being to forget that feeling and throw it away. To pretend it doesn't exist. But your wishes don't make it go away.

You can be dishonest with yourself, but it's impossible to lie to Seulgi. Not when she looks at you like that.

"I like you."

The words are barely a whisper but she hears. Seulgi's hand falls off your shoulder and you want to cry again. You said the wrong thing. She was going to think you're disgusting. She would never go on a walk with you again. You'll never smell her perfume again. You'll never hear her laughter again. She'd never touch you again. Never speak to you again.

Her mouth is open slack. Your eyes water and you breathe in, readying yourself to apologize profusely. To rescind the blasphemous words that slipped out of your foul mouth.

"I'm so sorry. Just ignore it. I take it back. I think I'm sick or something, you know, delirious. Just ignore it please. Please." Tears begins to fall down your face as Seulgi seemingly snaps back to reality. She reaches towards you, taking your face in her hands as her thumbs swipe away the tears.

"Oh my god, no, don't cry." She begs you to stop, but you can't.

"I-I'm, I'm sorry." The tears continue to make their way down your face. A horrible sickness wells in your stomach and suddenly it feels below freezing as you shake uncontrollably.

"No, don't be." She hugs you tight and whispers in your ear. "I like you too. So stop crying. For me, please." She strokes your back as you cry, hoping that the touch could settle you down.

It takes a while for you to register what she says, but as soon as you do your body seizes up. You think that maybe your everything, your soul, has shattered into a million pieces from Seulgi's words. How in the world could it be true? It couldn't be, not in this universe, not in this timeline.

Yet it was.

When Seulgi hears your sniffling stop and your body letting go of its tension she separates her body from yours. Her eyes are all you can see, and all you can see in them is pain.

"I'm sorry for making you worried." You felt guilty that she had to see you cry. The outburst at school wasn't great either.

"Don't worry about it" She reassures you by taking a hand in hers, stroking it with her delicate fingers to show you her affection. For several moments you allow yourself to breathe. Seulgi also took the time to process everything, and the two of you stared at each other with the new understanding of your feelings. Time seems to pass so slowly when you observe each other with care.

"Seulgi…" You mumble when what felt like years passed. She understood what you meant when she saw the way you looked at her lips.

In that moment you couldn't care anymore. Neither could Seulgi, it seemed, as you pressed your lips on hers and she pressed back. Greedily, the two of you dived in for a taste. Your lips on hers, her tongue in your mouth, it was something you needed. It was a flavor you could relish forever, perhaps this is what sin tasted like. Yes, this is what they'd call it. A sin.

It feels like everything has changed, but at the same time it hasn't. You still spend every second possible with Seulgi. You spend your time doing the same things. Yet everything feels so different, it feels brand new. Magically, it feels better than before. Is this the power that Seulgi has over you?

Nobody knows, nobody needs to know. After all, you're still Seulgi's bestfriend. Is there really anything different? Maybe just the tighter hugs, the kisses, and the alluring smiles, but that's all. Life is easy this way.

After bidding Seulgi goodbye in front of her house you go home to eat dinner with your family. You come home and greet your parents with a smile as you rush to join them at the dinner table. They share that smile as they take note of your enthusiasm recently. As you eat quietly for a while your mom finally asks you what's been going on to make you shine so much.

"Well..." You debate on what to say. It's been over a month since you confessed to Seulgi but you were still feeling high. You've been holding it for so long you wished you could tell someone. Why not them? You want them to be happy with you too. "I've been dating Seulgi."

"Hm?" Your mom asks you somewhat aggressively for clarification. The sudden stillness in the air alarms you. You look up from your food to see your mom staring as your dad stops eating.

"I-I told her I liked her and she liked me back." You say hoping to clear whatever confusion was occuring. Yet the look on your parents didn't fade.

"What happened?" You father's question sounds more like a statement as he sternly places his utensils down.

"What do you mean what happened? I just told you."

"What happened to make you like this?" His cold voices breaks a little as you notice his eyes tearing up. Was he seriously upset about this?

"You're joking, right?" Your mom joins in with an angry tone.

"Of course I'm not. Mom, she makes me really happy." You struggle to keep yourself composed under the scrutiny of both of your parents.

"Y/N. You are not happy. You're messing with the devil right now and he's fucking up your mind."

"Have you not been doing your prayers?"

You can barely fight for yourself at the dinner table. Your parents argue with and over you, about the causes and the whys. About the signs and what happens next. You cry as you watch your decision unfold into your nightmare.

You knew deep down inside this would happen, but you hoped and prayed that it wasn't true. Perhaps Seulgi made you too happy, too brave. Everything else felt like it was going right so you convinced yourself this would too. You've flown too close to the sun and it backfired. You should've never said anything.

As you try to block out the fight unraveling in front of you you could only scream one thing while crying. "Wouldn't God want to love me? Wouldn't He want you to love me too?"

The scrape of the wooden chair echos as your mom shoots up straight. "I will not house some heathen under my roof. Get out until you realize what you've done to this family."

It's raining. The relentless torrent of water against your body traps in the coldness from the night, leaving you shivering as your feet move on their own. They move to the only other place that feels like home. The only other person that feels like home.

Soon enough you find yourself in front of a familiar door, incessantly knocking. Muffled footsteps come from the other side of the door as you hear locks being undone until the door finally opens. Instantly there's a look of worry on Mr. Kang's face as he takes in the scene in front of him. He quickly ushers you in and shuts the door.

"Who is it?" A voice rings from upstairs.

"It's Y/N!" Mr. Kang yells back, and soon enough you hear a flurry of footsteps coming downstairs. Seulgi, in her tired glory, appears. She rushes towards you as her father went off to find you some towels to dry off with.

"Oh my god, what happened? Why are you here? Are you okay?" Seulgi's honey eyes are glistening with worry. She doesn't seem to care too much about the fact that you're soaked as she embraces you in a hug. Her body soothes you, its warmth penetrating the cold, wet clothes that clung to your body. You let her ground you back to reality before speaking.

"I don't wanna talk about it right now." You barely manage to get the words out. Your throat feels tight, constricted. Throughout the entire time the tears haven't stopped running down your face as it mixed with the rain water. Seulgi rubs your back as her father comes back. Both of them begin patting you dry.

It feels a bit pathetic as you have two people fretting over you so much, but you're too tired to move. Maybe not even tired, but rather stuck in your own thoughts.

"Go get her something to change into. Are you gonna stay the night?" Her dad asks after making Seulgi go back upstairs to find clothes. You just nod in response and follow her.

When you enter Seulgi's room you find her hastily going through her drawers, finding something comfortable for you to wear. After digging through her clothes she hands you some sweatpants and an oversized shirt, much like her own outfit she was sporting. Your hands are in front of you and holding onto the clothing, yet you still can't seem to move much. Instead your lips tremble as you look at the floor. Seulgi sighs as she nears you, unfolding the clothes and looking at your trembling hands.

"Don't make me dress you." She half-teases. When she realizes you can't will yourself to move a grim line stretches across her face. She wonders what has gotten you so riled up to act this way.

Carefully, she removes your clothes and throws them into the laundry pile. Her fingers innocently skim your body as she puts on the clothes for you, with you doing the minimal movements required to help her. Over the years she's already been more than familiar with your body, and the same for you with her touch. Although you can't vocalize it you silently appreciate the care and intimacy she demonstrates.

Soon enough she finishes though and pulls you towards her bed. Sitting you down she places herself behind you after grabbing a dry towel. She begins to dry your hair while letting you stay silent. Another thing you appreciated about her. She let you take your time.

"Seulgi..." Your voice croaks out as if you've aged several decades.

"Yes?" She stops drying off your hair, instead placing the towel down as she wraps her arms behind you and leans forward.

"They know." She doesn't say anything but her body is still for a minute. Afterwards she finishes drying off your hair, at least one of you can stay calm in this situation. That's what you need. "They told me to come back when I come to my senses."

"It's okay. Everything will be okay. We'll figure something out." You let her guide you down on her bed. Your crying had stopped a while back, but the shock coursing through your body didn't. As Seulgi pulled up the sheets and began to hold you you turned around and looked at her. You looked into the eyes that told you everything. Right now they told you that all Seulgi had on her mind was you.

So you think that you should only think of Seulgi too, because you can always forget about the consequences when you're with her. With a kiss on your forehead she tells you to sleep. She gets impossibly closer to you, holding you tight. Holding you as if you are her treasure.

The familiar trees and houses enter your view as you drive down your childhood neighborhood. Your fingers tap on the steering wheel as you listen to the song Seulgi played in the car. Out of the corner of your eye you see her smile at the thought of visiting her parents. It's enough to make you happy as well.

As you near her parent's house you pass by your own. It's been years since you've been inside, years since you even saw it. You're okay with it though, but your mind still wonders how your parents are doing. You wonder if the house is lonelier now, if they ever think about the sparse letters and phone calls you have exchanged and how they always were fights. Do they know you and Seulgi are coming to visit? Will they want to see you?

Whatever the answer is it doesn't matter. The only family you have to worry about is the girl right next to you and her parents. You feel thankful that she's your first love and hopeful that she's your last. Despite how many times your lives have separated you two, how you both dated other people and had your own quarrels, you guys came back to each other in the end. She changed you during your formative years and supported you as the two of you have grown up.

No one else can make you uncover these sides and feelings like she does.

#seulgi x reader #rv seulgi #kang seulgi #red velvet x reader #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #gg imagines #gg scenarios

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