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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

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The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #the island chapter 8

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illuminatedquill · 3 years

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Nevertheless, An Analysis

Do Hyeok vs Jae Eon

Hello, again. Today I’m going to talk about Do Hyeok versus Jae Eon; specifically how love affects both of their characters relationship with Na Bi. Love, as presented in Nevertheless, is the driving factor behind nearly all the actions and dialogue between our main leads. In this post, we’re going to focus on our two male leads and how love acts as a megaphone for their personalities.

Park Jae Eon, Frankenstein’s Creature

“I have love in me the likes you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy one, I will indulge in the other.”

- Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Jae Eon, at this point in the story, is a man undone. The smooth playboy, content with keeping a safe distance from the women he chases, has crossed numerous lines and broken all his rules for Na Bi. All in the name of love. And Na Bi burned him for it. It was a long time coming and much needed for his growth as a person. Time will tell if he learns from this experience and moves on to a happier, healthier version of himself.

Love, as some people say, is a transformative emotion. I don’t really believe that. I think people can change but not their entire personalities or the core of who they are. I think back to one of my favorite shows, Modern Family, where one of the characters says that people in a relationship can change maybe fifteen percent of their personality. But that fifteen percent can be enough.

Maybe that’s right. But, in my opinion, love is less a transformative element rather than it acts like a megaphone for your personality. It doesn’t give you the ability to do things you couldn’t before but instead allows you to be more of who you are. And that holds true for Park Jae Eon. Love unlocks these deeper parts of him, shedding light on thoughts and emotions long buried from whatever trauma (we still don’t know, thanks writers) he’s experienced.

But does that make him a better person?

No.

It makes him worse. At the end of episode 9, we see him at his lowest; his most manipulative, toxic, and cruel. What he did to Do Hyeok, and how he used Na Bi to do it; it’s not something I could say the Jae Eon from the first half of the series would do. But love makes him desperate and drives him to act on his darker impulses.

He’s become a monster, single minded in his pursuit. He can’t control himself when he’s around her and that does lead to acts of genuine sincerity and kindness. But when she’s not around and spending time with Do Hyeok, that loss of control cuts the other way, leading into possessiveness and rage. There’s no balance with him; it’s all or nothing to get Na Bi back to his side and away from Do Hyeok.

These toxic qualities were always a part of him but they were reigned in because he had not acknowledged his feelings. Jae Eon always kept his distance, preventing something like this. But now he’s drowning in them, lost as Na Bi was (but she had a life raft, a way out: Do Hyeok).

All this leads to his undoing. And the end of his relationship with Na Bi.

Maybe, for a time, his relationship with Na Bi was exactly what she needed; something passionate, stormy, and tumultuous enough to wipe away her pain from her abusive ex. But while storms can clear away anything in their path, they do so by causing massive damage to anything they touch; reducing structures to rubble or uprooting trees from their places and flinging them away. The cure for Na Bi’s pain ended up being worse. She only just managed to avoid the worst of it.

Ultimately it was not meant to be for Jae Eon and Na Bi. They were two people who were unable to find balance with each other and did irreparable damage.

Let’s talk now about his rival, Yang Do Hyeok, and what love’s megaphone reveals about his character. How does his love succeed for Na Bi in a way Park Jae Eon’s didn’t?

Yang Do Hyeok, Love’s Paradox

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt; only more love.”

- Mother Teresa

Yang Do Hyeok is the embodiment of the above quote. He unwittingly joined the rollercoaster ride between Jae Eon and Na Bi but it’s not until episode 8 that he willingly chooses to go for another round. He’s quite possibly the craziest character in the drama; in a sane world, we’d all be advising him to run for the hills while he still has a chance and let Na Bi and Jae Eon’s train wreck of a relationship continue to it’s inevitable conclusion.

But, he’s Do Hyeok and he loves Na Bi. So, he must try.

We see Do Hyeok at his lowest in episode 9; in a similar position to his rival, jealousy and insecurity threaten to overcome him. He can’t focus on his cooking and he’s irritable; his trademark smile is not present. He thinks to himself whether he should give up. Jae Eon’s little trick is hurting him bad and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

So, like Jae Eon, he falls back on what he knows. The hurt is there, but he accepts this is part of the risk in loving Na Bi and he continues to be there for her when she needs him. The megaphone lets Do Hyeok be more of himself, just like Jae Eon, but the qualities that are magnified are his kindness, his sincerity, and his pure, unconditional love for Na Bi.

He bites down on his hurt and continues to love. Where Jae Eon’s hurt poisons his love for Na Bi, Do Hyeok lets the hurt inform of what’s most important to him - Na Bi - and it sharpens his focus and allows him to move past Jae Eon’s trick. He doesn’t hide or shy away from his pain; he reveals it to Na Bi. This further strengthens their friendship to the point that Na Bi, upon discovering Jae Eon’s manipulation, finds the resolve to end it with permanently or else further risk more harm to her relationship with Do Hyeok.

The megaphone reveals something essential about Do Hyeok’s character to us and Na Bi; that in the face of heartbreak like this, the solution isn’t to hide away or hurt those who hurt us. It’s to love more. Trust more. And that’s what he does.

It’s what he’s always done. Because it’s what Na Bi needs and deserves. A partner who reassures and comforts in the worst moments and lifts us up when we feel down.

If Park Jae Eon’s love is the thunderous storm, relentless and all consuming, then Do Hyeok’s is the gentle green of rolling hills and pastures. The storm may come and threaten to shake apart everything but it always passes. And the hills and pastures are still there. And they endure, to grow again and again, no matter the damage.

That is what Na Bi needs. The promise of spring. That life can be good again and that she can be happy, that she deserves to be happy. And her friendship with Do Hyeok is the biggest indication to me that she is going to make it. With him by her side, she can get through this last hurdle.

Do Hyeok’s love is big and selfless. Where Jae Eon wants to possess Na Bi, Do Hyeok wants to simply be the one by her side. And that’s why he’s the last one standing in this rivalry.

#jtbc nevertheless #nevertheless #kdrama #han so hee #chae jong hyeop #song kang #yu na bi #yang do hyeok #park jae eon

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janiedean · 3 years

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I feel bad for all the nice J*nsa shippers who like their ship for whatever reasons (tropes, pretty art, aesthetic appeal, whatever) and know it's not canon but get associated with the misogynistic Dany hating crowd who act like Jon being attracted to Ygritte is J*nsa foreshadowing because red hair (I guess Jon should fuck Edmure Tully too? Omg give me Dark!Jon getting revenge on Catelyn by seducing her brother!) Tell me something. I'm new to the fandom but was J*nsa popular before the show? And I've heard something about the OG J*nsa shippers being alienated by the new shippers who insisted it had to be canon and acted like the series is called, "A song of J*nsa #danysux." I don't find that hard to believe because I know people who are now ashamed of calling themselves J*nsa shippers. Like, at this point, it's not only rival shippers who hate it. Even Gendrya/Braime/Jon stans/etc have started disliking that ship. You know your fandom is a problem when people who have nothing to do with Jnsa have a problem with it.

me: reads this ask

me: iwastheregandalf.gif which I can't find now but

okay anon buckle up because I am sadly well-equipped to answer this ask but before I do lemme tell you dark jon seducing edmure to take revenge on cat is LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD but *clears throat* ALL RIGHT THEN.

disclaimer: as anon says I have no issue with like the shippers mentioned by anon in the beginning and ngl I agree, I have ABSOLUTELY ZERO FUCKING STAKES in the j*nsa vs j*nerys war and the only het jon ship I gaf about is jon/ygritte and we all know where that ended up I just... have been here since 2011/adwd was over and all the fic around was just for the books under secret lj communities and asoiaf qualified for yuletide and I have... seen... things.... and I actually have like uh had... beef... with some people in there and I know things bc ppl who hated those others told me stuff so anyway *sigh* buckle up anon I'mma tell you the story of jon shipwars through the years

in order, the old gods help me here, under the cut bc this is long as fuck

when I got into fandom also given what numbers were on ao3 one ship was popular and it was sansan. no like sansan was lit. the only asoiaf ship on ao3 with more than 200 fics. jb had twenty when i checked first. jc had like around 100-ish because of the show but sansan dwarfed anything. I posted the first jon/ygritte fic on the ao3 tag and the fourth throbb fic and like the others were all reposts from lj kinkmemes. nothing was popular before the show except for sansan when it comes to huge numbers bc grrm doesn't like fic and it was all hush hush until the show made it impossible to control and that ship was the one with a huge enough fanbase it actually had numbers, so like... j*nsa wasn't popular in the way nothing else was popular until it got screentime on the show

now, that stated, j*nsa had a... fair amount of fic for a rareship which was mostly book-based and from og shippers that were there from before the show and liked it for what it was but literally none of them thought it was gonna be canon, like it wasn't huge or anything but it had a small but dedicated fanbase who did their own thing and thought it was fun/liked the idea but that was it

that fandom had their own niche of hcs that they cultivated and shit except that like... at the end of S5/beginning of S6 there was a surge in shipping for... well obvious reasons bc it was obv sansa was getting to the wall and that would have been all nice and good but a) it was the time puritanical shipping was starting to take root and the 'shipping sansa with sandor or tyrion is hella problematic' rhetoric had started to circle coming from sans*ery shippers mostly but I'mma not open that fucking can of worms here, b) while the ending of S5 had more of a theon/sansa spike, the j*nsa stuff started getting big

now here we have to mention my villain origin story ie: j*nsa fandom had this one stan whose name I won't make because honestly it's been years and if she's still around I don't want her to remember I exist who was a bnf, wrote for... the website that created the whole larry/carol thing etc who was really fixed on this thing that j*nsa was actually canon and started writing extremely popular meta about it. now you're gonna ask how do you know, I know because this person once wrote a meta named 'why robb stark is a dick' and I told her that it was really fucking bad meta and she took it so badly she kept on trash talking me on her blog/her podcast (I was apparently the insane robb stark fangirl l m a o good lord) and like that was when some sane ppl who argued with her informed me in pvt that she was basically harping on the CANON thing when they'd have been okay with like... it being crackshipping and that she was basically cultivating a hoarde of followers who were harping on them/the ogs and basically ostracizing them;

I would like to add that this person - before her tumblr got 'accidentally deleted' and remade it therefore deleted most receipts for, er, her so-called meta which included stuff like ned and cat raised sansa as a sexual object and only wanted to sell her like cattle - had at some point started a round robin fic thing where... some of the characters mocked openly said stuff that some of the og fans had said specifically targeting them and people in that side basically went harassing anyone who didn't agree with that specific notion

now never mind that this person basically coined an entire term to describe ppl who liked white guys and excused all their wrongdoings out of my conversation re robb basically lying about everything I said as if I didn't have the receipts and tried to sell shirts with it and it didn't work and like then she got kicked out of her own website because she was telling her commenters disagreeing pretty shitty insults (considering I was called psychotic for disagreeing with her that time I don't doubt it) I think at some point she stepped back from fandom bc idk wtf she's up to these days and I don't want to, but basically at that point the dam was broken and there was a bunch of puritanical shippers harping on anyone who didn't agree with j*nsa is canon endgame stuff

this also includes an incident when those ppl were like... passing themselves as throbb shippers and ended up trying to tell t*hramsay shippers off the theon tag based on moral reasons and I ended up arguing with all of them (and they were all from that crowd) which in turn landed me in contact with other og j*nsa shippers who were like detached from that fandom bc those same people harassed them away as well ssooooo fun

anyway when S6 happened everyone was high on it and whatnot but I wasn't gonna begrudge them that I mean... you shipped it for years, canon is delivering you, good for you, but then j*nerys happened

god j*nerys happened

aaand basically...... I mean personally I was there like are y'all seriously arguing about the best incest jon ship out there but like basically the j*nsa endgame side was like AH JON IS PLAYING DANY SEE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, the j*nerys obv got defensive af and both sides were sort of alternatively shitting on jon/ygritte anyway and depicting any other romantic rship jon could have as abusive™ and during S8 it just got worse and like I tried to stay out of it but basically from what I'm seeing now idk how the j*neryses are doing but on the j*nsa one it's ah jon's gonna play dany anyway and she's going to go insane like in the show so SHOW TRUTHING EVERY OTHER WAY and like again denying that sandor exists or that tyrion exists and like I barely touch my corner (sansan) but I ended up arguing with j*nsa/th*nsa people on twitter who were antis and is2g it was white-hair inducing and I know for sure the sansa/tyrion shippers were harassed to hell and back throughout so FUN

and even if the show didn't go there now since everyone there banked on the jnsa endgame thing and admitting you're wrong is like... not a thing, they still haven't let go of it and attach to that ship any shred of evidence which honestly is grasping at straws half of the time (like... the sansa/alysanne parallels like guys please no) and which is why every other ship is starting to get fed up, attaching canon proof of stuff from other ships onto theirs see that batb argument and jb is platonic but jonsa is not nvm taking all the sansan stuff and throwing it on j*nsa but then denying that sansan has canon evidence (like guys I had to read sansa touching his shoulder when saying gregor wasn't a true knight wasn't meaningful and we were seeing things please) and blah blah blah

this also goes hand in hand with the fixation on like... villanizing dany at all costs and like is2g I have zero investment in dany or her storyline I don't even remember it and I don't particularly care abt her either way and sure af I'm not for j*nerys endgame but like.... some stuff I read is completely excessive esp when fixing on how she's a completely mad tyrant who's gonna have to be put down and like... guys no

(also there's some srs stannis hate in that corner which I honestly don't get why they even care abt stannis but I had to read stuff like ppl don't recognize that dany and stannis are the real villains in this saga and like........ idek)

I think most of the og shippers are gone or don't ship it openly bc they don't want to be attached to the drama but like I also think they're pissing off everyone else bc like... I mean a bunch of them also were down with sansa being paired with other ppl as long as it meant a good ending for her except those ppl were... like everyone but the ppl she has actual contact with in canon which meant that at some point sansa/gendry was a thing and like.... you can imagine why arya/gendry shippers & arya stans were fed up, and there's also this tendency to behave like sansa is the center of the entire saga which like these books is named a song of jon snow basically can we pls make peace with it and personally I've had it with both j*nsa and j*nerys people since they started with that dumbass JON/YGRITTE WAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP rhetoric but I'm also fed up with the total ignoring that sandor exists/depicting us as delusional and honestly I also was by proxy fed up from the harassing of the sansa/tyrion shippers soooooooooooo

there were also instances of 'well theon is an acceptable choice other than jon bc he can't threaten her' which... i mean we all know what that meant and I'm not even commenting it bc it's one AM and I have no force to but I don't have to explain why it's not a progressive take now do I

there were also metas about how cousin incest being legal in half of the world means that jondany is a worse incest and j*nsa doesn't count as such and I was basically there like guys please just fucking own up to it but honestly I chose to forgot where I read that and I couldn't find the link if I tried

tldr: no one wants to admit that it's not gonna be endgame which considering the amount of fic they have on ao3 is imvho useless bc they have more content than like.. anything I ship that's not jb or that's actually like canon *cries in joncon/rhaegar but I mean renly/loras is canon and has less fic than them* so idk what's the problem with enjoying that instead of insisting it's gonna be canon when not even the show validated it while show truthing anyway when the only show truthing that can be truthed is the small council made of minorities and possibly jon eventually fucking off with the wildlings but not like that but like most people who thought it wasn't gonna be endgame had left/were made to leave by the time S7 rolled by and at this point since wow isn't out yet everyone is fandom-grasping at straws to find stuff to discourse on and we're here beating dead horses *shrug*

so that's... how it is but I would again like to point out that I don't judge ppl on their shipping, I don't particularly care about this entire feud bc I only ship jon with ppl he's not related to in whichever way and I try to stay out of this mess bc I don't really care to argue with ppl who have already decided to bend canon to whatever they want and will have to realize that it's not what grrm wrote at some point but like I have a very good memory and the above rant is as objective as possible also bc again I don't literally have a stake in that race I just think romantic/endgame j*nsa is not a thing and that ppl should stay in their lane and not harping on other ppl who ship whatever in general but especially when their ship is the most popular thing in fandom in the first place /two cents

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #anonymous #ask post #anti-jonsa #anti jonsa #anti-jonerys #anti jonerys #both of them for equality

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dalekofchaos · 4 years

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Harmione au & headcanons

My au and headcanons for Harmione 🖤

There was a hint of things to come in their first year. Before they leave. Hermione tells Harry "Harry, you're a great wizard, you know. " "I'm not as good as you." "Me? Books and cleaverness! There are more important things! — Friendship! And Bravery and— love!" Inspiration

Harry fell in love with Hermione the moment they saved Buckbeak together and Hermione has always loved Harry

Before Hermione could ask Viktor to the Yule Ball, she finds out that he has a date. So Hermione and Harry at the same time yell “WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE YULE BALL?” Both of them are redder than their Gryffindor colors.

When Harry witnesses Hermione in her Yule Ball dress, his jaw drops and smiles at her with heart eyes and Hermione looks at Harry like he’s her prince charming.

It was then when they danced together that Harry and Hermione confessed their feelings for each other. Hermione is the one who goes in for the kiss.

Later they find out that Ron asked out Viktor. Ron is happy for his friends, so while all parties are content, there is no drama

During the second task, Harry rescues Hermione

Hermione is there to comfort Harry over Cedric’s death and Voldemort’s return. What it may look like.

As Harry and Hermione bid each other farewell until year 5, Hermione hugs Harry and kisses him on the cheek and Harry embraces Hermione in a kiss. Like so

Hermione would gift Harry her second copy of Hogwarts:A History and makes absolutely clear. “Harry James Potter, after 4 years you will finally read Hogwarts:A History! Do I make myself clear?” A twitch of fear enters Harry’s reality after he saw what Hermione did to Rita. “Yes Hermione”

In Harry’s copy of Hogwarts:A History is a portrait of Harry and Hermione’s dance and first kiss.

Only thoughts of Hermione kept Harry sane from the nightmares of Voldemort and Cedric

Thinking of Hermione allowed Harry to conjure a corporal Patronus to save himself and Dudley

Hermione wakes up after hearing Harry’s night terrors. Hermione cuddles with Harry and that stops Harry’s terrors stop

Other nights, Hermione would read to Harry until he falls asleep

After seeing what Umbridge did to Harry, not only does Hermione tell McGonagall, but Hermione confronts the loathsome toad and makes it explicitly clear that Umbridge’s archaic and medieval practices against students is illegal. Hermione is sentenced to detention for her troubles of course, this later furthers Hermione’s “fuck the rules” mentality

Harry Ron and Hermione would of course found Dumbledore’s Army as per canon

In private, Hermione would ask Harry if he’s read Hogwarts:A History. Harry said yes and loved it and asks Hermione to keep recommending books to him. This would leave Hermione with the biggest smile and blush possible. “Oh Harry”

Harry and Hermione would help Cho through her grief with Cedric

Harry and Hermione cast their patronuses together. Hermione’s Otter loves on Harry’s Stag

Harry and Hermione’s nicknames for each other after seeing their patronus is “Darling Otter” and “Dashing Stag”

Cho would talk to Harry and Hermione in confidence about Marietta sand they are able to get through to her before she talks to Umbridge

Harry and Hermione still fuck up Umbridge’s shit. “I’m sorry professor, we must not tell lies” and they hold hands as Umbridge suffers the consequences

When Hermione was stunned and silenced by Antonin Dolohov, Harry bombarded him with Stupefy

Hermione would be there to comfort Harry after Sirius’ death

During the summer, Harry and Hermione would spend time together. Harry would meet Mr and Mrs Granger, which was lovely. Hermione met the Dursleys. Which was not pleasant. They watched movies together and danced together and skated together before Hermione returned home

Hermione would wear Harry’s Quidditch jerseys and Harry would read Hermione’s books

When Harry arrives at the Burrow, everyone greets him as normally. But Ron has something to tell everyone. Ron is bisexual and in love with Viktor Krum. Everyone is accepting and proud of Ron.

Hermione would try to talk Harry out of spying on Draco, but Harry insists there is something suspicious about Draco

Harry and Hermione go on a date to Slughorn’s Christmas party. Harry and Hermione would kiss under the mistletoe

Instead of Hermione being heartbroken over not being with Ron, it’s Ron who is saddened by not being able to see his boyfriend. So Harry gives Ron Sirius’ old Two-Way Mirror.

Harry and Hermione would dance at Bill and Fleur’s wedding

When Remus asks Harry to be Godson to Teddy, Harry agrees, and so does Hermione.

During the hunt for the Horcruxes, pretty much the same stuff happens

Harry and Hermione have their same moments in Godric Hollow. But I’d also add, “I think my mum and dad would’ve love you, Hermione.”

Rest of the story would remain the same. Ron returns, Hermione would be mad at first and welcome him back. Pretty much the same till Battle Of Hogwarts

Harry and Hermione would be Battle Couple goals in the Battle Of Hogwarts.

As Harry tells Hermione and Ron what he must do after witnessing Snape’s memories. Hermione breaks down. Harry embraces Hermione in a hug and a kiss.

When Voldemort gloats about killing Harry and demands obedience and loyalty. After Neville’s “FUCK YOU! I’LL JOIN YOU WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER, DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY” defiance, Hermione stands defiant and gives a speech, basically saying those who died are not in vain. How she loved Harry, something Voldy could never understand and that Harry is still with her. And basically saying Voldemort will fall as they know his secret and just one more remains. Voldemort absolutely seething with rage. Screams. “You filthy mudblood, AVADA KEDAVRA!” And Harry wakes and casts a shield charm to save Hermione. Voldemort’s full attention is focused on Harry.

Ron and Hermione try to desperately kill Nagini, but fail. Luckily Neville with the sword of Gryffindor kills the snake and the final Horcrux

After the Battle Of Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione begin to plan their life together

When Hermione found out Harry was choosing not to attend Harry’s 7th Year after free from Voldemort and the war. Hermione sent a Howler. “HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU MARCH YOUR ASS TO DIAGON ALLEY AND TO KING’S CROSS STATION AND PREPARE TO ATTEND YOUR 7TH YEAR RIGHT NOW!” Ron thinks he’s in the clear.....until Molly’s letter. Needless to say, Harry and Ron did attend their final year. Kingsley is NOT pulling them out of Hogwarts, cause he does not want to face the wrath of Molly Weasley

Sometime after graduating Hogwarts, Harry proposed to Hermione in Godric’s Hollow. Harry got down on his knee and asked her “Hermione, my Otter and my soul mate. Will you marry me and grow old with me in Godric’s Hollow?” Hermione, smiling with tears of joy shouts “Yes!”

idk the specifics of their vows, but I believe it would end with Harry telling Hermione. “Hermione. in you I found love, peace and Harmony. I love you Hermione Jean Granger and I am complete with you.”

Either they would fix up The Potters’ Cottage in Godric’s Hollow or build their own Cottage

Harry and Hermione would raise Teddy as their own, but always remind him of who Remus and Tonks were and what they sacrificed to keep him safe.

Harry would be an Auror for a time and Hermione would be Deputy Head of the Law Enforcement department. After a time, they would retire and return to Hogwarts as Professors. Harry would be the DADA Professor and Hermione would be the Transfiguration Professor.

Harry and Hermione’s children would be named. James Sirius Potter, Rose Lily Potter and Leo Serpen Potter

All was well

#Harry Potter #Harmione #Harry James Potter #Hermione Granger #HHR #Harmony #harry x hermione

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dearcat1 · 3 years

Note

2,3,6,16,18,20

I have gone totally nuts, but, well, I also want to know 🙈😂

Don't worry! I'm all for being asked questions!

2. Favorite piece overall?

Hu, I think my baby, right now is Ameliorate which is the first part of the contract-verse series. It hasn't been published yet but I've been working on it for about a year, it's like a trilogy. Each part is long enough to be a book and I'm proud of how it's coming along. I like reading the later parts of it and noting just how far both Xanxus and Tsuna evolve in the length of the story.

Published? I think that would be The Dragon Prince and his Consort. I don't even know why, it just brings me so much joy but that one is only in Ko-Fi. If we're going by one that's open to everybody, I think that would be either The Thrill or Isolation. I like the dynamics in them.

3. Which was the hardest to write, in terms of plot?

That'd be Ameliorate, too. Funnily enough, when I first wrote it, it was going to be a 7 chapter long smutty story without much plot. And then, when I read it again my brain went: wait a minute, wait. What about all the political shifts here? The drama? The relationship development? The emotional evolution? So then it became a little bit of a struggle about moving the pieces of all those other points around a story that was going to be only seven chapters long. But then it ended up being too long so I decided that it would be divided into a series.

Which means, 4 plots. One overall plot of the entire story itseld and 3 plots of each part of the series. And so I had to rewrite everything again. Yikes, it's made me scream into the void but I'm also so happy with how it's coming along.

6. Idea that you always wanted to write but could never make work?

I guess there's a lot of somewhat darker themes that I would like to explore. Mostly as I deal with my own mental health and realize some things, I would like to put some of those thoughts into paper and watch them flow, almost like an outsider looking in and yet I have rarely managed to finish a story like that. Mostly because it becomes too much sometimes but also because I get worried that people are going to come after me for 'romanticizing' this or the other. Which it's not, it never is. It's just me trying to work through it, express myself.

16. 3 favorite comments ever received on fanfic.

I answered that one here. I'd answer again but trying to save people from having a truly more monstrously long post in their dash...

18. If you could go back and revise one of your older stories, which would it be?

Mizuiro, the information broker. Without a doubt. I like the story but it feels almost unfinished to me and I feel like my writing has evolved to the point where I could do a much better job of it now.

20. Go nuts, and talk about writing.

Holy shit, why put me in the spotlight like this? Hahahaha.

If I had to babble about writing, I'd complain. I'll be honest, I love writing. It's probably one of the skills I'm the proudest of. I love sharing it with other people and learning just how to convey the image in my head properly. It takes over me, however, which is something that I have a love-hate relationship with. I can be trying to sleep and this entire fully-fledged story decides that nope, it's writing time. And then when you get to writing it, in the hopes of getting to bed at some point, you note that this is scene #37 and you need to somehow write all the other scenes leading up to it and then all the other ones after that.

I think there are people out there that are writers because they sit down and make the conscious decision to do it and then there are writers like me who write out of self-preservation because we started one day and writing didn't let us go after that.

That said, I am thankful for that. During quarantine, writing is the one thing that kept me somewhat sane. It's an interesting ability because depending on which character you're writing, which moment in their life they are in, you have to more or less enter somebody else's mind and try to understand them, deep down. Who are they? What moves them? Why? Are they even making decisions or just reacting to the world around them?

When I write Xanxus, for example, and I'm doing his inner monologue about something that really pulls his strings, sometimes I have to stand up and pace in my room because I get so fucking angry. And yet he's my absolute favourite, I don't know what that says about me. Or Reborn, Reborn's inner thoughts can be so cold. He's an old man, trapped in this body that's not his and he's probably been a hitman for so long that he doesn't really remember how to be anything other than that. I think that even if he can be incredibly kind, in the back of his mind, he always is a hitman. It doesn't get turned off.

So when I try to understand his character, write about him and his thoughts, I tend to think of his love as something cold and possessive, even if the emotion itself is warm. I think he's the sort of person who can look at people around him and make a calculated assessment of those who surround him. Is it worth the inconvenience to kill them? Is the reward worth the unpaid hit? If he lets them die by their own stupidity, what will that mean for him? It takes a special kind of man to be both unaffiliated and so clearly respected by whole ass organizations. So on and so forth.

There's this scene in Ameliorate where Reborn notes that Timoteo just set off a domino event that is going to eventually lead to his death. Not any time soon, Reborn could avoid this, could warn him, could reel his student in. He doesn't even think about the possibility. All he thinks about the matter is that it's a shame. Old friends are hard to come by but Timoteo should have known better.

Human nature, in itself, fascinates me, simply by how diverse it is. So I love that, I play with that. If this happens, how would Xanxus, Tsuna, or whatever character I'm looking at react to that? What would they think? How do they feel about t? To a great extent, that's what my writing is about. That and the fluff. Because it makes me smile while I write it, too.

#ask #wansue-gm #ask away

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cilldaracailin · 3 years

Text

We Are The Champions

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s,

Happy Tuesday except for me it is a Happy Thursday as today is my Thursday as I have a long weekend ahead of me! Woohoo! Can’t wait! Really wanna go and get a new piercing but it is such an effort to get into Dublin now with all the stuff going on... Anywhoo, here is the next part to this story.

So quick question... Who is ready for some drama? Raise your hand.

Oh you are? Brilliant!

Your wish is my command!

Suze xx.

As always, I do not know Taron and this story is all fiction and a story and is not a true representation of Taron and his family. All made up.

“Instead of worrying about what you cannot control, shift your energy to what you can create.”

After nearly two hours of lazing in the sun, Robyn who had been laying on her stomach got to her knees and took the air pod from her ear. She rubbed her eyes and looked to her left, Tina sitting on her deck chair reading a book, Guy and the girls nowhere around. To her right, Taron lay on his back but he wasn’t asleep as she could see him tapping along to the song on his stomach.

“Hey rocketman.” She saw him turn to look at her. “You promised me a laze about, a picnic, a swim but also a stroll. Wanna go for a walk?”

Taron grinned and nodded. “Please.” He sat up. “It is good to stetch out some muscles after sunbathing.”

“Make-up are really going to have tone you down.” Robyn laughed as she stood up, reaching for Taron’s hands to help him up.

“Matthew knew what he was doing letting me go for the weekend. He knew my plans.” He took a step closer to her. “And at last I see those freckles returning.” He tapped her nose. “Only took a year.”

“Don’t get used to them. They will be gone the next time you see me.” She saw his face fall a little. “Come on. You owe me a stroll.” Linking her arm with his, she led him towards his mam.

“Tried of catching some sun?” Tina asked, putting her book down.

“Taron promised me a stroll.” Robyn answered truthfully.

“Guy and the girls went for a walk too. Bit disappointed they never got their second sandcastle.” She grinned. “He told them they needed to search for special stones for their castle so they have wandered off with their buckets.”

“We will help them when we come back.” Robyn replied.

“No rush. The girls will want to search the whole beach for the perfect stones. They will be a while yet. Go. Enjoy a walk. The crowds have whittled down a bit. Lot of people have headed home.”

Making their way to the water, Taron took the inside, closest to the water, Robyn beside him but she ran a few steps away from him when he used his foot to splash her.

“None of that!” Robyn chuckled, keeping her distance from him, but when he grinned reaching out for her hand, she took it and moved back beside him now both walking through the waves a little. “And don’t be sad either.”

“Sad?” He asked, making sure to link his fingers with hers.

“I know we have been quite lucky with how much we have seen each other lately and we just don’t know when it will happen again.”

“And I am so bloody close to you but yet it hasn’t worked at all in our favour.”

“Hey now, you still have lots of time left in Belfast.”

“But it is mixed in with all the travelling back and forth to London.” He laughed as Robyn dropped his hand and gave him a hard push with her two hands, Taron stumbling into the water, his green shorts getting wet.

“Robyn! What was that for?” He shook his wet hands at her, before pulling her into him, the water drops on his skin pressing onto hers, hearing her laugh more. “Seriously? You said stroll.” He rolled his eyes as she still laughed at him and without thinking swung his left arm around her, pulling her close into him. “Evil woman.”

“I want you smiling, not sad.” Robyn answered him, sliding her right arm around his back to his waist, her left hand touching his fingers on her shoulder. “We have been here before. We know we will see each other again and we know we can’t really plan it and it just happens but I don’t want to see you sad because that makes me sad and I have had the best weekend. Best in a long time actually. We will work it out. We always do.”

Taron agreed with a kiss to her temple. “I have loved this weekend.”

“Snowman and all?” Robyn asked laughing.

“I swear, I can pick you up and chuck you in the ocean again.”

“Oh yeah?” Robyn teased, tickling his side.

“Robyn, I will do it.” Taron said as he dropped his arm from her shoulders, stopping their walk suddenly. “You know I will.”

“You gotta catch me first!” Robyn took to a run, a run at full speed, as best she could on the wet sand, her feet sinking into the sand making it hard to run and she knew Taron would be right on her heels and as expected and perhaps quicker than she thought, Taron was right behind her. She heard him laughing and kept on running, dodging people on the water line, which gave her a bit more of an advantage on the gap between them, as Taron had to also avoid colliding with people who were still on the beach. Robyn could feel her heart racing with excitement and kept up her pace with no idea how close or far Taron was from her and she jumped and shouted when he grabbed her right around the waist, lifting her up and against him.

“Got you! And now you are going in!” Taron had chased after Robyn, smiling at her ridiculously silly antics but he loved her for it and eagerly ran after her, cursing as the people in the water got in his way, Robyn getting quite far ahead of him. He picked up some speed and ground when there was a clear path through and even though she was still running, he caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, stopping her, lifting her from the sand with his two arms, cradling her against his chest. “Right. You’re in for it now chicken!”

Taron got three steps into the water when his head turned on hearing someone shouting his name and not just shouting it, but roaring it.

“TARON!”

With Robyn still in his arms, he stopped, the waves lapping at his calves, his head turned to see Guy running his way looking extremely flustered and upset. Taron carefully set Robyn down and met his step-dad on the sand.

“Taron…” Guy was breathless from his run. “Have… you…” He placed his hand on his chest and the other on his step-sons shoulder.

“Guy, take your time.” Taron felt Robyn come and stand beside him.

“Guy?” She asked seeing the distress on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Mari.” Guy managed to get out, finally catching his breathe. “Have either of you seen Mari?”

Robyn looked to Taron and saw his whole face pale, his eyes wide. “Not since the picnic. Mam said you went with the girls to look for stones for a sandcastle.”

“And we did. We were up at the other end of the beach and were looking for the stones and the two girls were right beside me. Rosie found a stone and was showing me and I turned around and Mari was gone.”

“Guy…” Taron placed his two hands on the older man shoulders.

“She has gone wandering and I can’t find her. Your mam is worried sick.”

Robyn could see the worry immediately set hard in Taron’s face, the same fear in Guy’s face too.

“You searched where you were?” Taron asked. “All around the other end of the beach? She didn’t go to mam to show her stones?”

“No Taron!” Guy snapped. “She isn’t there. She isn’t with your mam and Tina even called Eve to see if Mari walked to the café and she isn’t there either. Tina was nearly in the sea searching for Mari until I pulled her out. We can’t find her anywhere.”

“Did you check…”

“Everywhere Taron!” Guy yelled, his hands going to his face.

Robyn stepped in front of Taron and reached back to take his hand, giving it a very reassuring squeeze. “Ok let’s just take thirty seconds.” She kept speaking quickly before Guy got any more upset or angry. “First off, Mari knows not to go near the water. It is something that she was taught from a very early age so I am very sure you can cross that off your list.” She saw Guy’s raised shoulders hitch a little higher. “And second, she is a smart little girl. She knows where your family was sitting, where to go.”

“Because you know my child so well?” Guy said to Robyn, almost spitting the words her way. “You think because you came dressed as a Disney princess and did some face paint, you know my children?”

“Guy!” Taron was taken aback at how he had spoken to Robyn and went to move to stand beside Robyn, giving her hand a very tight squeeze.

“No Taron. My eight-year-old daughter has gone missing and she thinks she can just talk her way…”

“She was trying to help!” Taron replied angrily.

“Ok. Ok enough!” Robyn turned to Taron. “Enough.” She looked to Guy then. “Why don’t you take Taron as you were going to do and I will walk the water up and down and keep an eye out.”

“Robyn…”

“Go with guy Taron. I will walk the water’s edge up and down.” She placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Get your mam to stay at the deck chairs in case she comes back to that spot. Check the bathrooms too.”

Without another look at either of the men, Robyn side stepped around Taron and kept on walking in the direction they had been going, looking left and right for any sign of Mari, Taron watching her walk away from him, before turning back this his step-dad.

“Seriously?” He asked with a clear heated tone. “She was trying to help.”

“I don’t need her help. I need my daughter back.” Guy barked.

“And that was what Robyn was trying to do!” Taron walked around Guy and with speed, headed back along the shore. “Help get your daughter, my sister back with advice and suggestions on finding her. What you said to her, Jesus Guy.” Taron’s speed increased knowing he hadn’t far to go to get back to where their deck chairs were. “Talk about cutting her to the core. Robyn gave her everything to that party yesterday.”

“Takes more than a dress and some flapjacks to raise a family Taron.” Guy replied bitterly

“And it takes her patience, unbelievable kind and caring nature and sane advice to try and help us!” Taron shouted turning on his heels, water splashing around him. “Robyn doesn’t just panic in a situation like this. She stops and thinks it through, putting reasonable logic and perspective on what is going on, trying to keep calm and…”

“My daughter is missing!” Guy yelled.

“And Robyn was helping you find her! I know you are worried and I can understand this is stressful for you and mam but wouldn’t you rather have someone who is calm and composed, coming up with some helpful suggestions on first how to find Mari but second to ease some of your worries. She was helping, trying to alleviate your concerns and she was right. Mari knows well to stay away from the water and has done since she was little. She won’t go near it.”

“Taron, Robyn is not a part of our family and this is something for our family to be involved in.”

He felt his hands curling into fists by his sides and the exhale from his lungs was angry and suddenly Taron was fuming. “She is the reason I am still alive and here and you only have a tiny notion of what she did for me in the 7/11 during the most horrific experience of my life. As far as I am concerned Robyn deserved every right to be a part of my family when she put her hands on my chest, her lips on mine and gave me my life back. You would rather she just walked away when Richard called for help?” Taron took a step closer to Guy, his face just a few centimetres from him. “Robyn is my family and always will be and you will not speak to her like that.” Taron’s voice grew low, almost growling at his step-dad. “When we find Mari, you will apologise to her and apologise sincerely.” Turning around, Taron all but stormed up the beach, seeing his mam standing up, frantically looking around for Mari. Trying to calm himself down, Taron took to a light run to her. “Mam…”

“Oh Taron!” Tina threw her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. “She’s gone missing.” She quickly took her head away from his shoulder and placed her hands on his cheeks. “What has happened?” She saw Taron try to soften his face but his eyes were hard set. “Taron…”

“Nothing mam.”

“Taron…”

“Mam, not now.”

“Where is Robyn?” Tina had been so used to seeing her son stuck to Robyn all weekend, she looked around trying to spot her. She felt her husband come stand beside her and looked at his face and then back to her sons. “Right, what on earth is going on? Robyn?”

“Robyn has continued to walk along the shore towards the rocks, the way we had been walking.” Taron explained. “She is going to stay along the water’s edge and walk up and down.”

“Mari knows to stay away from the water when we are not with her.” Tina said firmly.

“That’s exactly what Robyn told Guy.” Taron answered, staring at his step-dad.

“But she still stayed at the water?” Tina asked.

“She thought maybe Mari would look for some smaller stones at the shore so said she would keep an eye out as she walked up and down.”

“Taron, I am really worried. Eve hasn’t seen her. She has taken Rosie for me to walk along the prom, hoping to catch her from a height. It’s not like Mari to just walk away from her dad.”

Taron reached for his mam’s hands. “Ok first off, let’s not panic. Mari has wandered off somewhere looking for stones and is on the beach. We all know she is not in the water. You have drilled that into all of us. Stay away from the water. Eve and Rosie have the prom covered; Robyn is walking the shore. I will take the left side of the beach and Guy is going to take the right side and we will search up and down both sides. Mam you stay here at the seats.”

“Taron, I can’t. I need to go and look for her.”

“Mam I understand you are worried but if Mari strolls back here and there is no one at the deck chairs, then she will get upset and scared. You stay here and I know it is hard not to look with us but you need to stay here in case she comes back here.”

“Taron is right Tina. If Mari comes back this way and none of us are here waiting for her, she will get upset.” Guy placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders, avoiding Taron’s eyes.

“It was actually Robyn’s suggestion to stay at the chairs.” Taron added quicky, his eyes going to Guy’s for a brief second, then looking back down to his mam. “Mari probably doesn’t even realise she is missing but rather still looking for the stones.” Taron said softly to his mother, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. “We will find her. Guy and I will take our phones.”

“Robyn…”

“If Robyn finds Mari, she will bring her back here and you can call us. Eve has her phone?” Tina nodded. “Just take a breath mam. Mari is on the beach somewhere and we will have her back in no time.”

Without another word, Taron walked past her, dug into Robyn’s bag and pulled out his phone, slipped his feet into his runners and walked around the deck chairs and towards the left side of the beach, staying in the middle between the wall and shore, looking left and right, keeping an eye out for his sister.

When Taron left and was out of ear shot, Tina turned around to her husband. “What happened?” She saw Guy look over her head and with a pinch to his side, he looked to her. “He is pissed. What happened?”

“I am going to go and walk the beach, look for Mari.”

“Guy!” Tina called after her husband as he left her, grabbing his phone from the deck chair on the way past. “Men.” She muttered under her breathe, taking a seat in one of the deck chairs, picking up her phone, gripping it tight in her hands. Looking left, she just caught a glimpse of her son as he slowly walked down the beach and then to her right, her husband doing the same. Thoroughly confused, but very sure there had been a serious argument, Tina pushed it to the back of her mind, her eyes darting left and right, looking at every child who was within her eye line, praying one of them was Mari.

Robyn was desperate to give Taron a hug as she slowly ambled through the lapping waves, looking all around, trying to see if Mari was this far down the beach. She heard his voice travel her way as she walked away from him and heard the angry tone it held as he spoke to Guy and was sure it was for her benefit. As much as she appreciated how Taron had stood up for her, and obviously chastised his step-dad for how he had spoken to her, Robyn didn’t hold it against the older man. He was so clearly anxious and agitated by Mari’s sudden disappearance and in the heat of moment said some things she knew he didn’t mean at all. His little daughter had gone missing so of course his emotions were a little frayed and Taron’s short temper had already been tested over the weekend so both men were overly agitated. All she was worried about was Mari and as she came towards the far end of the beach, the number of people dwindling out, soon she was alone, heading for some large rocks which were clearly the cut-off point and end of the beach.

As she neared the rocks, Robyn stopped in her tracks, her eyes picking up a colourful swimsuit and one little girl standing on top of them, a bucket and spade in her hands.

“Mari.” Robyn sighed, her head shaking a little as she took to a jog but stopping as she was a couple of meters from the pile of stones, her whole face changing from happiness at finding Mari to worry at the amount of water between her and the rocks. “Shit.” At the end of the beach, the rocks on which Mari stood were slowly being covered as the evening tide came in and as Robyn wadded into the water, she could see that when Mari made her way up onto the rocks, the tide had yet to travel so far in and she easily could make her way up onto the stones but now was stuck and cut off from the clear pathway down, cold sea water blocking her way back to the beach.

“Robyn!” Looking up, Robyn heard her name, Mari finally seeing her. “Robyn! I am stuck! I can’t get down.”

“Ok darling. Don’t worry.” Robyn stepped further into the ocean, the water up to her calves. “I am going to come and help you. Stay where you are.” Robyn walked in a straight line until she could see the rocks under the waves and turning, now moved deeper into the ocean so the rocks were on her left side, the level of the water inching up her body until she was chest deep and right beside where Mari was stuck. Using her feet, she felt for some rocks and so very carefully climbed up the slippery stones, using her hands to drag herself up, getting to her knees and finally up beside Mari, the young girl throwing herself at her legs, dropping her bucket and spade, the shovel falling into the ocean, the waves dragging it backwards.

“Robyn!” Mari clung to the older woman; her head tucked into Robyn’s hip. “We always come here to the rock pools and I thought I could find some nice stones for the sandcastles and the water just came in so fast and I wasn’t watching and now I am stuck and the water is everywhere and blocking my way down.”

Crouching down, Robyn took Mari in for a proper hug, feeling the little girl shaking a little. “It’s ok darling. You are going to be just fine.”

“I come up here all the time with Dad and Rosie and we look in the rock pools but never when the water is so high. I climbed up from the bottom and when I looked back, I couldn’t see the end of the rocks any more. It was all just water.”

“You walked away from your dad.” Robyn said to Mari, moving away from her a little but keeping her in a hug. “You didn’t tell him you were going.”

“I only walked away for a minute.”

“Mari,” Said Robyn, her voice very serious. “You always tell your dad or mam if you are going somewhere or leaving them whether it is for a minute or just to wander a tiny bit away. Your parents and Taron are so very worried about you.” She saw her face fall. “I know you didn’t mean to walk away but you have all your family so concerned about you. Your mam thought you went into the water.”

“I would never go into the water.” Mari said her eyes very sad. “It’s dangerous. I didn’t mean to make everyone worry about me. I was just looking for stones for our sandcastle and I know the rock pools have nice ones.”

“Oh Mari.” Robyn hugged the little girl tight again. “I know you didn’t and I am just so glad you are ok and I found you. Now, we need to get back to your parents before they have the whole of Aberystwyth looking for you.” She gave Mari’s cheek a little kiss, her eyes darting to the water as it splashed against the rocks. Even with the few minutes she had been with Mari on the rocks, the incoming tide had travelled far and looking behind her, Robyn could see the only safe way back to the beach was by the way she had reached Mari, through the water. Without being able to see the rocks at the far end, she wouldn’t take the chance of even trying to walk Mari that way, knowing swimming her the short distance back to shore was the safest and easiest option. “Ok so we are going to have a little swim back.”

Mari’s eyes opened wide. “In the deep part?”

“You will be fine. I will hold you the whole time. It will only be a few seconds until we are back on the beach.”

“Can’t we wait for Dad to find us?” Mari asked.

Robyn shook her head. “I don’t know how long it will be before the water covers these rocks Mari or how long it will take your dad or Taron to walk this way and I don’t have a phone to call anybody. We need to get down from the rocks now before the water gets too deep. I promise I will keep you safe and look after you.”

“Like you looked after Taron?” She asked.

“Exactly like that. Now we are going to have to leave the bucket behind.” Robyn stood up and gently gave the red bucket behind Mari a little kick. “I will buy you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one.” Mari said. “I just want my daddy.”

“Oh darling. I know.” Robyn bent down and picked Mari up, giving her a tight squeeze. “I am going to get you back to your daddy and I know you are a little scared about getting in the water but I doubly promise I will get you back to the beach. You just have to trust me, ok?” She felt the smallest shake into her shoulder. “Did Taron ever tell you how I went to go and swim with the dolphins?” She said to the little girl, feeling another shake of her head. “Well the water the dolphins lived in was much deeper than the water beside us and I spent nearly all day swimming in it with no floaties or rings, helping special little children as they swam with the dolphins.”

“You did?” Mari asked lifted her head and looking at Robyn.

“Yep. All day.”

“With no floaties?”

“Not one.”

“Swimming by yourself?”

“Uh-huh. I promise you Mari, nothing is going to happen to you or me. I will keep you so safe and my arms around you all time and if I can’t hold you, you just squeeze your arms around me.” Robyn saw her a little nod. “Ok darling.” Robyn hugged her again. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Still with Mari in her arms, Robyn looked around her to see which was the best way to get back down to the water, which way Mari would be able to follow her down and having already climbed up one part of the rocks, figured it was best to climb down the same ones. She set Mari down and carefully stepped down onto the rock below her, finding her feet and balance on the next one down before she reached out for Mari to join her. With a lot of hesitation and even more encouragement from Robyn, the little girl stepped down, squeezing tight onto Robyn’s hands.

“You are doing great already.” Robyn assured her. “I am going to step down again and you can follow me.” Robyn’s feet stood on a very slippery rock and tried to keep her face straight and confident as Mari depended on her to get her back safely to shore. As she kept Mari steady on the rock above her, Robyn glanced down and couldn’t see the next rock, the white breaking waves now biting at her ankles. “Ok Mari, we are going to have to do a little jump into the water.” She watched Mari’s eyes open wide. “It’s only a small jump and once in, we can be back on the beach really quickly. I am going to go first, hold my arms open for you and you can jump. I will catch you.”

“Ok Robyn.” Although she was frightened, Mari believed Robyn would look after her, keep her safe. She had already kept her brother safe and she absolutely trusted Robyn. She watched as Robyn took one long jump straight into the water, coming to the surface and turning around to her.

“Ok Mari.” Using her legs, to keep herself above the water, Robyn lifted her arms from the water and held them out. “On the count of three, ok? You will have to jump as far as you can.” So wary of the rocks, Robyn moved as far away as she could, still keeping enough distance that she could catch the little girls and then she started to count. She didn’t want a scratch of any sort on Mari, the little girl already being so brave with the mess he had found herself in, so kept as far away from the rocks as she could. “Ok darling, one, two, three.” Robyn had just finished saying three when Mari took a leap off the rocks, into the water and Robyn’s open arms, Robyn catching her tight, keeping the young girls head above the water. “Well done darling. So brave.”

“Can we go now?” Mari asked, her arms around Robyn’s neck. “I wanna see my family.”

“Of course. I am just going to move us away from the rocks and then we are going to swim towards the beach, ok?”

“Ok Robyn.”

“You just keep a tight hold of me Mari.”

Robyn could feel Mari’s arm creep around further her neck, both clasping together, her legs tightening around her hips. Keeping her right arm fixed around Mari’s back, Robyn placed her feet on the rock closest to her and pushed back hard, then kicked her legs, helping them to move away from the rocks, trying to get as much space between them and the sharp hard stones before she even thought about swimming them both back to shore. Taking a glance over her shoulder, Robyn did a double take as she saw a large rolling wave coming their way, one that was surely going to break over both their heads. With a strong kick, she turned them both around so Mari’s back was to the oncoming wave.

“Robyn?”

“There is a big wave coming. Don’t be scared. It is going to go over our heads but only for a second. Hold on tight to me. I am going to lift you up as high as I can and when I say so, you need to take a big deep breath for me and close your eyes.” She could see the panic set in Mari’s face. “Darling it is one wave, that is coming and it will be over before you know it. You go swimming all the time with your dad, right?” Mari nodded. “Ok so it is just like taking a big breath and going under the water. You can do this.”

“I am scared.”

“Me too Mari but it’s one big wave and then we are going to swim back to the beach.” Looking over her head again, Robyn had about ten seconds before the wave hit them. “I will count and you hold your breath, ok?” With the wave only seconds away, Robyn didn’t wait for Mari to answer her and hoisted up her higher, her two arms under her bum, kicking her legs very hard to keep them afloat. “Ok Mari. One, two, three.”

She watched Mari take a big breath, and as the wave hit Mari’s back and flowed over her head, Robyn was so busy concentrating on looking after the little girl, she forgot to take her own breath and wasn’t fully prepared for the force or power of the wave, and it would have flattened her if the rocks hadn’t been behind her. She ended up with a mouthful of seawater, most of which she swallowed as she silently cried out as her left outer thigh and back of her left leg rubbed hard against the sharp rocks, a stinging pain making her grip Mari tighter against her. As the wave rolled back, she managed to gain control of her body and kicked her legs, ignoring how her left leg throbbed and swam as best she could while still carrying Mari up high away from the rocks, finally getting her own head above the water when she was sure she a good two meters away from the rocks. Letting Mari slip down her body, Robyn coughed a little, feeling her stomach turning horribly with the sea water she had swallowed but pushing her own discomfort aside she looked to Mari, whose face was buried under her neck, her arms around her shoulders, her legs around her waist, clinging to her.

“Mari, you ok?” Robyn asked her, her legs kicking furiously under the water to keep them both up.

“I am ok.” She heard.

“Ok darling, let’s get back to the shore. I am going to turn you around and hold you against me and swim backwards.” Robyn carefully moved Mari so her back was against her chest and used her left arm to cross over Mari’s shoulder and once she was secure, kicked her legs moving them both towards the shore.

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desire-tenderness · 3 years

Text

I will return to old Brazil

I’m three weeks away in New York on a laser and independence trip, I miss home. It’s only two days away and soon I’m back in Brazil to meet my family and friends. I was taking the opportunity to organize some of the things, like some clothes and documents, that’s when I missed my passport. “Where did it go, my God?! My credit card was on the cover. I’ve turned this apartment upside down and can’t find it anywhere. There’s no way I lost! This shit only happens to me. I only have two more days stay in this Irbnb, how will I solve the problem of passport loss in two days without my credit card!? I don’t have a penny more.” [ranting, going into outbreak] “OK, relax, I’m smart! I need to raise money for at least another day or two, I have enough for daily meals. Well, didn’t I want to experience something unique and inspiring? Here’s a chance to have a tragic story to tell and laugh at later.” [I thought out loud] “I can manage as a street performer, starting tomorrow. I take my ukulele and some blank sheets of paper and make illustrations of pedestrians, I hope to reap the benefits of that. The last place I remember seeing my passport was yesterday when I was at the MoMA. Now I need to go back there and hope that I find in the "lost and found" of the place.” [The next day] I woke up early today and I’m already on my way to Central Park, hoping to find a space on Bethesda Terrace to play. The first time I went I saw a young man playing the cello so beautifully, it made me overflow with emotion. I played some songs, I noticed that I had a very positive return looking at the cover of Ukulele, I was curious to tell how much money I had made with those 5 songs played. It’s quite amazing the satisfaction of playing there, people seem to want to hear me play. I thought of ending with Naive - The Kooks and so I did. - I'm not saying it was your fault Although you could have done more Oh, you're so naïve, yet so.. {music}

Soon formed a circle of people singing together, I was shivered, did not imagine that The Kooks still had an audience. A little girl left $16 on the cover of the instrument, it made me float. With less than a minute to go, I saw a wonderfully attractive boy, at least 15 feet away, "do I know you?" I thought while I messed up a song. At the end of the last song I thanked him and forced my eyes to reach the boy again, but he was no longer there. The minute I thanked her, the same little girl started pulling a leather saying "one more, one more". I didn’t have a repertoire anymore and I couldn’t think of anything. The sky was with an attractive texture and the climate had a palette of color that sent me the song Postcards From Italy - Beirut and without thinking too much about whether or not it made sense for the moment, I started playing and singing. As I played, I closed my eyes to feel the instrumental climax of the song that was approaching. And when I opened my eyes the same boy I saw from afar was standing in front of me watching my show. Who was he? Timothée Chalamet. My whole body was frozen with the fright, but I didn’t want to leave anything evident. If I showed my anxiety, that space would turn into an afternoon of autographs and I don’t want to take your time. Did he give me money? The cover of the instrument had received more notes of paper, but for being with eyes closed I could not see. He smiled and nodded, turned away. I kept silent. Second then I hurried thanking everyone for my return, guarding my instrument and taking my bag. I run after him. - Hey! Timo! He turned at the same second, confused, trying to find who called him. He must have noticed me tightening my stride to get close to him as soon as possible. - Hi! Our is a pleasure, I can’t believe it’s really you. I let you go so you wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but I needed to talk to you and thank you for listening to me play and a lot of other stuff. Sorry, I’m talking too much, all right? I spoke so fast that I hardly breathed. He laughed. - Hi, Beirut, huh? It goes well with today’s weather. It was nice! Am I well and you? Alias, your name? - Do you like Beirut? Gee. My name is (xxxx) but it doesn’t matter now. - Yes, you do. Are you from New York? - No, I come from Brazil. I’m traveling.. The words were disappearing from my mind as the minutes passed, I was somewhat hypnotized. - Cool! I really want to see Brazil someday. Do you want a photo? - Man I want a photo yes. I never thought that moment would be here and now. We took the photo, he thanked me for coming to him and for me playing with such emotion. He finally said that it was "very harmonious". And with a lot of pain in my heart I let him go. "Gee, I met Timothée chalamet two days before returning to Brazil! I must confess that fate has killed, just bring my passport back." [I thought out loud] Arriving at the Moma I received the terrible news that my passport was not there, it was my only hope going down the drain. I wanted to cry out of desperation, but I was also totally happy to have met Timothée and to have taken a picture that I will keep for the rest of my life. "I wish I’d been calmer and sane, I guess I just thought I was crazy. I hope he hasn’t noticed my despair, anxiety and complete fascination. Well, back to what I need to focus on.. Do I get some freelance work at some designer studio? Well, it could be a coffee shop. " The day has gone by so fast, the clock is almost 4:00 p.m. I think I’ll have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, and I’ll get a job, if that’s not too embarrassing. I thought I’d walk around the West Village and find some cool coffee over there. Said and done, I found a coffee visibly attractive and had a delicious smell coming out the door, but it was empty. I think this is the perfect opportunity for a presentation, so I’m gonna eat something first. I ordered a latte and a lobster, one of my favorite treats. That crispy puff pastry, filled with vanilla cream, caramel and flor de sal makes me roll my eyes. I ate with such desire that I began to remember how surprising my day was. I thought I would make an illustration of the Timothée, a drawing of how I met him, the ambience was delicious to draw in peace and so I did. I noticed that someone came through the cafeteria door, I heard the sound of the door open. It was him, he was again in the same environment as me. The coincidence was so much that I could hardly believe it, I kept my calm. He sat across the room, pretended not to see it.

On the local radio started playing First date - Blink, obviously I started singing and trying to finish my drawing as soon as possible, who knows he could see before going. "Lets go! Don’t Wait! this night’s Almost over Honest, Let’s make this night last Forever' {Music} Suddenly someone came to my table and put a glass of Vanilla Malt and a snack with a great smell. When I looked up he completed the harmony. - Forever and Ever, Let’s make this last Forever. Hi again! "Are you kidding that this is really happening? And if it is not? Well, I will act as if I were dreaming, I can do better in this communication" - I don’t believe it. This is crazy, what are you doing here at my table?! - Would you like me to leave? - You’re crazy, of course not, sit down, please! - So, what are you doing? Wait, that’s... that’s me?! Fuck! [He pointed to the drawing] - hãnn yes, look.. this coincidence I will never live again. Now in my head I go through a cruel dilemma. - Which would it be? Excuse me. [He took the marvelous drawing and took a photo] - Should I finish it and give it to you, or should I ask for an autograph and frame it? - Hmm look.. my autograph is nothing, I would ruin the drawing, but it’s so awesome, I would love it if it was mine, but I took a picture, it’s worth the frame! - Arranged, Mr. Chalamet. I told him about my passport drama and how distressed I was. His face of "Holy shit, I’m sorry, you’ll have a headache" didn’t help. But he offered me real help with this red tape. "Does that mean I’ll see you beyond today?!" - Okay, you’re tense. Let’s break the ice by relaxing with a theatrical technique. I say a word, you think fast and say the first one that pops into your head. -Okay... Can I get started? [What’s going on here? ] -Yes, of course, yes! - Silver - Gold - Desire - Fire - Friend - you - Call me by your name - And I call you by mine. Oh shit! [laughed with his hand in his mouth] - That’s pretty cool hahaha let me ask. What are you going to do now? I’m really surprised to see you "living normally" - It is sometimes I get this feat. But anyway, I have no plans. - Do you want to go to the street cinema and see what classic is going on today? - My God, yes I am, thank you for the suggestion. We left the cafeteria and I didn’t ask for a job, I don’t regret it, my day is being fucking awesome. We went to the cinema of East Village and Singing in the rain was on display, that was perfect! I’ll watch one of my favorite movies with Timothée, it’s the fourth time I’ve pinched myself and I notice it’s not a dream. This day cannot end. We took the tickets and entered without him being stopped or recognized, I was relieved. And sitting next to him in a movie theater, all I could think about was how I wanted to be able to take his hand, kiss it as classically as the movie we’re watching. He made a story, I’m dying to open my phone and see, knowing that I’m next to him and nobody else but me and he knows, fuck!

At the end of the movie we came out, another coincidence or not, it was raining. I had my instrument and drawing sheets in my purse, but I wanted to literally sing in the rain, only without an umbrella. I dropped everything on the stairs and called him into this brief shower of rain. EPIC. I danced and sang in the rain with Timothée Chalamet and he seems absurdly happy about it.

We end with: "Come on with the Rain I have a Smile on my face I walk down the Lane With a happy refrain Just Singin', Singin' in the Rain" - Do you fancy a bagel or something? - I’m in! Tompkins? - Sure, and you have better? I answer, no way. - That’s so sweet, come on! And so we continued, hungry, laughing and wet. I think he appreciates moments like this, you can see in his eyes extreme pleasure and relief, that’s beautiful. The hunger was so great that we ate 3 bagels with bacon, eggs and cheese. We were wet so we ordered for the trip and ate outside. During the final bites we’ll talk about my passport again. - Where was the last time you saw him and when did you realize he was gone? - The last time was in Moma, the day before yesterday. But I went back there and they did not find.. I realized last night when I was starting to leave part of the suitcases ready to "go back to Brazil tomorrow". - Have you looked in the pockets of the clothes you wore when you went to Moma? - I looked at that jacket 10 times and I couldn’t find it. - Why do you think it’s in my jacket? I always carry a full pair of pants. - My God this is so obvious! I took the laundry to the building, if it is there I owe you my life. - Stop it. Can I go with you and film you finding your passport? [He laughed] - That if I find, will know a mix of relief, gratitude and anger. [laughs together] - Come on.

Yes, my passport and credit card were always "with me", were in the inside pocket of the pants as he had said. I was about to explode with relief!

I was ready to corrupt the good impression made during the day, but I was so excited and happy that I jumped in his lap grabbing his neck and kissing his cheeks.

He was silent as he stared at me confused as he held my thighs around his waist. I felt his breath on my neck, I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to.

- I’m sorry, really, I’m just happy. Thank you. - Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m glad you found it. Do you still want that autograph? - Of course! [ He signed my drawing and took another picture of it, but this time with me holding the art. ]

- Sing one last song before I go. - My God that hard, I don’t know. Huh.. Sing with me? - If I know. Then I started singing Marvin Gaye’s Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, he seemed surprised. "Just call my name I’ll be there in a Hurry You don’t have to Worry'Cause, baby, there Ain’t no mountain high enough Ain’t no Valley low enough Ain’t no river wide enough To Keep me from Getting to you, baby" We laughed and finished. I was almost crying. Shame, I’m not a child. - So that’s it, I will be eternally grateful for today. Thank you and good luck girl, it was a pleasure. He turned and opened the door, waved his hand. And I recited.. "Now, when Twilight dims the sky above Recalling Thrills of our love There’s one Thing I’m Certain of I will Return to old Brazil" He smiled and came back to me, kissing my forehead. - Until one day, anywhere in the world. - See you, Timolito. He came out and I cried. {This is a fanfic. All I write about is my feelings and desires. TEXT BY: L.M }

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #fanfic #nova york

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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years

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It certainly would be asking too much of the show (since, apparently, a canon Liz, even as a certified profiler she is, just has to fall for Tom's manipulations time after time again, ugh), but, please, consider this as an AU scenario that would get rid of Tom once and for good and improve relationship between Liz and Red:

In the 2.19, if Liz somehow came back to Tom's warehouse earlier – either with Caul or by agreeing to split with him so he could make a copy of the Fulcrum, just in case – when Red hasn't come to after his surgery yet and, therefore, had an opportunity to have a brief respite from all the turmoil of that day's events and sort through her feelings as she waited anxiously for Red to wake up (because you just know she would be there, not in any other part of the warehouse, not with Tom, but by Red's side, if things went a little differently like that), she would realize whom she truly loves – Tom or Red – because the panic she felt back when Zamani stabbed Tom pales considerably in comparison to the one she felt when she saw Red get shot (that "NO!" of hers will haunt my dreams, I'm telling you... if I didn't know already, when I was watching this episode, that Liz loves Red – Braxton and Kings episodes have good enough evidences of that – this "No!" scream of hers would certainly be that moment that would make me go "Yup, she's in love with him"), the terror she felt in the car and then at the first warehouse – when she saw the surgeon dead – at the though of losing Red, the pang in her heart when Nick updated her on his condition and legitimately told her that there was a bullet-turned-land-mine in his chest, fear and frustration she felt when Nick kept stalling time instead of helping Red and anxiety and bone-deep need to get back to Red's side as soon as possible mixed with fear that she would come back only to find out that he was no longer there she felt while she was away from the warehouse. Having had enough time to come to this startling realization and to calm down (both after this realization and in general) by the time Red comes to, she would tell him, when he tried to explain to her the situation with Tom (because you know he would, as soon as he saw her), that they certainly need to talk about that but later and for now she just wants him to focus on getting better.

And – once she terminated the immediate threat to Red's life by showing the Director the Fulcrum and, as a result, they could finally move him to a proper hospital and didn't need the warehouse anymore – Liz would finally end things with Tom for good and, instead of conspiring with him to find out the answers she seeks, she would spend that time by Red's side, helping him through his recovery in whatever way she can – from keeping him company at the hospital to taking walks with him as a part of his physiotherapy – and strategically avoiding talking about Tom and her mother and anything that has to do with their shared past until she's certain that Red is back to normal.

I can easily imagine her fretting over him more than is necessary simply because she loves him – as she finally admitted to herself but yet to admit to him – and nearly lost him and Red getting a little... overwhelmed because of it – especially, considering the fact that his last clear memory before he woke up after the surgery to her standing over him with genuine concern and breathtaking relief written all over her face is her telling him (or, rather, yelling at him) that she wants it (as in their relationship) to stop right that instant – and wondering quietly as to what could possibly make her change her mind so drastically (not that he minds) but coming up blank because he can't possibly fathom the possibility that she might love him but loving the attention he gets from her nevertheless and trying to enjoy it as much as possible while it lasts because he's certain that she'll eventually go back to how she treated him before.

I can also imagine Liz trying to convince Red to take it easy when he gets discharged from the hospital while he insists that he's right as rain and wants to go straight back to his work as both the Concierge of Crime and FBI's CI as if nothing had happened even though he struggles to catch his breath after as much physical activity as a walk in the park near the hospital and grimaces each time he moves the wrong way or takes too harsh of a breath and tries to sit down or lean against something for support as much as possible and Liz actually sees all that, no matter how good Red thinks he is at keeping his discomfort and clearly far from ideal state of health from her.

Also, Liz freaking out when Dembe informs her – because she made him promise that he would let her know about everything that happens to Red, especially if he makes big or possibly life-threatening decisions, but also because Dembe doesn't like that idea, either, and secretly hopes that Elizabeth will make Red reconsider it – that Red wants to fly to Boston and rushes to reprimand him because "no sane person would get on a plane just five days after being shot in the chest and getting his lung damaged, Red, and frankly I'm surprised I even have to tell you that!" (okay, maybe I'm projecting a little with this last one, because it honestly freaked me out a little when I was watching Quon Zhang, because he certainly shouldn't have been flying for at least a couple of weeks after being shot)

Wow, anon!! 🤯 What a beautiful essay of an ask!! 😍 I love, love, love basically any scenario that involves less T*m & MORE RED & LIZ enjoying a good relationship for once... so this was quite a joy to read!! It's so funny how you can change the one small detail of Liz just having some time to think & - from there - logically spin a much more lovely Lizzington story than anything we ever got on screen... and by "funny", I naturally mean "ridiculous", bc if wonderful fans like you can do it, TPTB should have been more than capable, jfc. BUT I love every detail of this, anon, including but not limited to: Liz analyzing her feelings like the profiler she was supposed to be & realizing both that she cares deeply for Red AND the first second he awakens after life-saving surgery might not be the best time to work through all their drama. Past that, I adore the idea of Liz ignoring their issues while Red gets better, fretting so affectionately over him that Red is thoroughly confused but intensely grateful, vehemently opposing him going back to work, finally opening her eyes enough to observe how Red manages to hide his suffering from her, & - last but not least - absolutely flipping her shit over Red wanting to fly 4 seconds after being shot cause, let's face it, you're right, anon - that shit's just not realistic 😂 Ugh, what a lovely & relatable AU scenario you gave us here, anon, thank you so much for sharing!! 🥰 Much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #thoughts #headcanons #mine #ask #anon #wow #this ask was a journey #and what a better journey it would have been for our crazy kids #thank you anon #:')#much love!!#<3

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 4 years

Text

Superposition

a deancas college roommate AU

Chapter 10 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here.

Wanting is Enough

“You goin’ home for Christmas?” Dean asked.

They were walking back to the dorm after dinner. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, a holiday for which neither Cas nor Dean had bothered to travel home.

“No,” Cas said. “I don’t believe I’m welcome at my father’s house anymore.”

Dean glanced sideways at him as they entered the stairwell. “Why? ‘Cause you’re gay?’ He asked.

Cas shrugged. “If he knows now, from Bartholomew or Hannah, then that certainly doesn’t help my case.” He sighed. “No, when he found out I was attending college and not entering ministry, he told me I shouldn’t come home again.”

Dean held the exit door open as Cas walked onto their floor. “When did that happen?” He asked.

“I kept the entirety of my college application process a secret. Only Anna knew,” Cas said. “She’s the only other sane person in my family. I made the mistake of informing the rest of them about it at dinner sometime in July.” He gave Dean a wry smile as they entered their room. “None of them were particularly thrilled.”

“You told them about the full ride and everything?”

“Yes.”

“And your old man still kicked you out?”

“The same night.”

Dean snorted. “Dumbass.”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips. “You could say that.”

“Where’d you go after that?” Dean asked.

“Well, Anna was already living alone, down in Norman. She was at the University of Oklahoma,” he added by way of explanation. “I just stayed with her until August.”

Dean nodded. “She sounds cool. What’s she doing now?”

Cas broke into a grin. “She lives in North Carolina, now. She’s a therapist.”

Dean smirked at him. “So your ass is constantly getting psychoanalyzed?”

“I suppose.”

Dean slumped into the beanbag with a sigh. Cas remained at the door, leaning his weight against it.

“What about you?” He asked after a beat. “Are you returning home for Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, smiling. “Well, it’s kinda complicated. I am going home, like, my actual home. Lawrence. We spend Christmas with some family friends.” Dean paused, looking thoughtful. “They’re really more family than friends. Bobby and Ellen and Ellen’s kid Jo. Bobby and Ellen were both friends with my dad.”

“Will your father and brother be there?”

Dean’s look darkened, if only slightly. “Dad’s not coming. The whole thing started ‘cause he got tired of trying to pretend to like the holidays after Mom died. Decided to pawn us off on his old friends. But yeah, Sammy’ll be there.”

Cas gave him a nod and pushed off from the door. While he was disappointed that Dean would be gone for winter break, he was relieved, too. That was three weeks sans-Dean, more than enough time for Cas to work through his little crush. The solitude would be good, he told himself. Cas figured he could fast-track the five stages of grief, and by the time Dean returned, Cas would be the best friend he deserved. Cas sighed to himself as he rifled through his closet for a towel and a change of clothes. He was grabbing bottles of shampoo and body wash when Dean cleared his throat.

“You know,” he said slowly, like the words were difficult to force out, “You could… I mean, I’m sure everyone wouldn’t mind if you came to Christmas.”

Cas whirled around to face Dean, who was picking at a loose thread on the beanbag.

“What?” He asked, a little too loudly.

“Since you’re not goin’ home,” Dean said. “You know, it sucks to spend Christmas alone. ‘Specially in this dump,” he added, gesturing generally to the small room.

“Are you inviting me to spend Christmas in Lawrence? With you?”

Dean gave a short laugh. “I guess it is kinda dumb. Yeah, nevermind.”

“No, I’d like that,” Cas rushed out. He blinked at his own words. He was supposed to be avoiding Dean as often as possible, not spending three uninterrupted weeks in his hometown. “It sounds nice,” Cas added weakly, despite the fact that it definitely did not.

Dean looked up at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Dean broke into the biggest grin Cas had ever seen. “Dude, it’s going to be awesome. I can’t wait for everyone to meet you.” Dean stood up with and pulled Cas in for a hug, clapping him on the back twice. Cas winced, letting out a feeble chuckle as he returned the hug reluctantly. He was trying not to notice the warmth of Dean pressed against him, or the absence of it when they parted.

“Are you pissed at me?”

It was the Wednesday before finals started. They were quietly eating dinner when Dean threw the question at Cas, who coughed into his water.

“What?” He sputtered.

Dean rubbed the back of his head. “I dunno, man, I just feel like I never see you anymore.”

Guilt crashed into Cas like a freight train. He had been absent, more absent even than before Thanksgiving. Part of it was out of necessity — finals were fast approaching, and he was intent upon an all-A’s first semester. But the hours at the library were stacked on top of the hours he spent in class and the hours he spent simply staying away from his room.

“I apologize,” Cas said, and he couldn’t keep the earnestness from his voice. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I have two final papers, three exams, and two final projects coming up before the break.”

“No, man, I get it,” Dean said with a shrug. “You’re busy. Sorry, that was kinda uncalled for. All in my head, you know.”

Cas wanted to tell him that it was completely called for, that what Dean was feeling was valid, that he was being selfish and rude and a whole number of terrible things for avoiding Dean. But he couldn’t, because that would mean promptly declaring soul-destroying love for his best friend, right there in the middle of the dining hall. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” he mumbled.

Cas had thought that it was getting easier, being around Dean. He’d basked in the feeling of being not just someone’s best friend, but Dean’s best friend, after Halloween, and that was enough. And while he was still avoiding spending long hours in their room, he felt like he was well on his way to making peace with the unrequited.

But then, they’d gotten drunk on the night of Thanksgiving. Cas didn’t remember much besides waking up in a tangled heap with Dean on the floor of their room. He’d been successful in extricating himself from the strange embrace before Dean regained consciousness, and thank god for that. But the situation lived rent-free in Cas’s mind. It made things considerably more difficult.

And then there was the prospect of travelling to Lawrence to spend Christmas with Dean and his family. Cas really hadn’t wanted to spend the holiday alone, and was, on the one hand, thankful for the invitation. On the other, his anxiety was mounting. That trip meant there was absolutely no avoiding Dean for at least three weeks; not to mention the fact that he was meeting the group of people most important to Dean.

So if Cas was making extra efforts to put space between himself and his roommate, it was not unwarranted.

They finished eating and made their way back to the dorms. Dean was complaining about his own finals, and while Cas tried his hardest to remain engaged, his heart wasn’t in it. He was angry at himself. Even when he felt like he was succeeding, he was failing.

“Cas,” Dean said. Cas had just let them into the room, but Dean was standing resolutely in the hallway.

“Yes?” Cas responded.

“Are you… I know I already asked, but man, something’s off,” Dean rushed out. “Is — Is this about Christmas? ‘Cause —”

Cas interrupted him. “No, Dean. I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”

Dean smiled weakly, but it was brief. “I just — you’re never around, man,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “I feel like I fucked something up somehow.”

Cas knew Dean well enough by now to know there were things he was trying to say without saying them. His heart broke to know that I miss you was likely one of them.

“I promise, you’ve done nothing wrong,” Cas said. “I’m just concerned about my finals.” Lie.

Dean looked at him with skepticism. “Okay,” he said finally.

Another twinge of guilt soared through him, but he didn’t say anything more, just gathered his things for a shower. Dean still hadn’t come into the room when Cas pushed past him and made his way to the bathroom.

When he returned, Dean was gone, but Cas saw a notification on his phone.

DW (7:32 pm)

went out back later

Cas narrowed his eyes at the short message, but typed out a reply anyway.

CN (7:34 p.m.)

Okay. Be safe. Don’t forget, there’s class tomorrow.

He sat down at his desk and opened his computer. He tried studying for his accounting final, but the words and equations might have been hieroglyphics for all that he was absorbing them. Cas sighed and pulled up the final project description for his creative writing class instead.

It was his favorite class by far. In high school, Cas focused on writing short stories, mostly adapted from real life. His notebooks were his confidants, the product of never having a close friend. But now, he was challenged to write other things; poetry, scripts, memoirs. Cas lived for the challenge, finally able to stretch new creative muscles. And while his attempt at drama had received mixed reviews from his professor and peers alike, his other works were well-received. He’d never shared his writing with anyone, and to hear others enjoyed it was something Cas cherished.

But this final project, it was difficult. The professor had tasked them with writing a 1000-word story in prose and adapting it into both a drama and a poem. The goal was to tell the same story in each genre. Cas couldn’t even think of a scene he might want to write, let alone how he was going to move fluidly between genres.

He sighed, and began to list out possible ideas. When it became clear that he wasn’t getting anywhere, he closed his notebook and moved onto something less intense. He reviewed his econ notes for an hour, got started on his final paper for literature.

After hitting a solid halfway point on his first draft, he checked his phone again. It was already midnight. Cas frowned. Dean was known to stay out late on the weekends, but it was Wednesday. Cas knew Dean had a nine-a.m. history class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He also knew that Dean wouldn’t make it to said class if he was out much later. He sent him a text.

CN (12:03 a.m.)

Are you all right?

Cas hit the bathrooms to brush his teeth and get ready for bed before checking his phone. His worry only increased when he saw that Dean hadn’t replied. He sent another text, hoping he didn’t seem too overbearing.

CN (12:11 a.m.)

Just making sure you’re alive.

He decided that if Dean didn’t respond in the next ten minutes, he’d call, regardless of how ridiculous he might sound.

Cas paced around the room, picking up what little stray trash they had left lying out. He was about to take out his phone again to check the time when it started vibrating on his desk. He picked it up eagerly, but frowned at the unknown number. Cas considered letting it ring out, but he hit the “accept” button at the last second. He didn’t say anything as he held the phone up to his ear, expecting a wrong number.

His eyes went wide when Dean rasped, “Cas?”

“Dean?” Cas replied, trying to keep panic out of his voice. “What — Why are you calling me from this number?”

“Phone’s dead,” he said, sounding exhausted. “I hate to do this to you, man, but… Just — goddammit — can you come get me?”

“What?”

“I’m just — I’m at the corner of seventeenth and Gentry.”

“Don’t you have a DD?” Cas asked. Dean had never called him to pick him up from a party. He always made sure someone was sober, or he called an Uber.

“No,” Dean sighed.

“Seventeenth and Gentry?” He repeated, and he heard Dean murmur something in affirmation. Cas made a turn for his car and said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up.

Cas tried to drive at a normal speed, but it was difficult. Dean had left abruptly, and while Cas hadn’t thought to question it, it now seemed glaringly out-of-character. Dean had never partied in the middle of the week, and he certainly had never gone drinking by himself. Every red light kicked his anxiety up a notch.

After the interminable drive, Cas finally arrived at the corner Dean had directed him to, a small bar with WSU flags plastered everywhere. Cas drove past the front of the building slowly, but couldn’t find Dean there. Finally, he saw a phone booth just past the bar’s street parking, and he coaxed the car forward. Dean was leaning against its side, a cigarette in his mouth. He hadn’t brought a jacket, and it was barely thirty degrees out. Cas turned up the heat in the car as he unlocked the passenger door.

Dean put out the cigarette and slid in without a word. Cas hit the gas and started the drive back to the dorms.

Neither said a word in the ten minutes it took Cas to reach campus. The only sounds were the roar of hot air from the vents and the low groan of the engine. Cas kept his eyes in front of him, never once daring to glance at Dean.

When they reached the lot, Cas threw the gear shift into park and folded his hands in his lap. He stared at his own interlaced fingers, willing Dean to speak first, not wanting to ask the question.

Dean didn’t speak, though, just opened the car door and stepped out. Cas saw a light flicker through the passenger window, and suppressed a groan as he realized Dean had lit another cigarette. Typical, Cas thought, and he was suddenly annoyed. It occurred to him that if their places were switched, Dean would be hounding him, demanding that Cas tell him everything, because he always did. Anytime Cas seemed the slightest bit off, Dean was there, asking questions, being the good friend that he was. But now? Now, he expected Cas to leave it alone, to let him suffer with whatever was bothering him. Cas took a few steadying breaths, then turned the engine off and got out.

“Dean,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral, “What the hell?”

Dean didn’t answer, just took a long drag, his gaze aimed resolutely ahead. Cas huffed and crossed his arms.

“You… You can’t just ask me to come pick you up from a bar and not offer an explanation,” Cas said.

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

Cas let out a mirthless laugh. “Oh, well, that’s perfectly adequate,” he scoffed.

“What else am I supposed to say?” Dean demanded.

Cas stared at him, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, his jaw set. “I’m going to bed.

“What?” Dean asked, finally looking at Cas.

Cas shrugged. “I’m obviously wasting my time.”

Another drag. An exhale.

“My dad called while you were in the shower.”

The irritation shifted, almost immediately, to concern. “Your father called you?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

Dean tapped his cigarette against his leg. “Mostly to remind me what a piece of shit I am.”

Cas remained silent, allowing Dean the space to form whatever his next thought might be.

“I guess…” Dean rubbed his free hand over his forehead. “I guess Sam let it slip that I was bringing you to Bobby’s for Christmas.”

Cas cocked his head. “And that’s… Problematic?”

Dean exhaled another plume of smoke. “Yeah,” he said. He let out a mirthless laugh. “He said he didn’t get it, that if I was bringing anyone home, it should be a girlfriend, not…” Dean trailed off.

Cas felt the blood leave his face. “He thinks —”

“Yeah.”

“Dean, I don’t have to come,” Cas said. It would be better for both of us. “I’ll be perfectly fine here. I appreciate the offer, I do, but I don’t want to make life more difficult for you than necessary.”

Dean looked at him, finally, and he was all shadow and exhaustion. “No, he’s not gonna be there. You’re coming,” he said resolutely, and Cas tried not to let the disappointment show. “Plus, that wasn’t all of it. He’s pissed that I didn’t come home for Thanksgiving. Said something about how I was dishonoring my mom’s memory or something.”

Cas was silent for a moment. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“What do you mean?”

“At the bar,” Cas clarified. He couldn’t tell how drunk Dean really was, but based on that recent revelation, he could guess.

Dean furrowed his brow. “What?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I had like three beers. I was planning on going full blackout, but then you reminded me about class.”

Cas almost smiled at that, because it was almost funny. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Decide to get blackout drunk just because your father incorrectly assumed you were bringing me — bringing a male partner to a Christmas he wouldn’t even attend?”

Dean frowned. “I don’t — I don’t know,” he said, and he sounded almost surprised at his own answer.

Cas was treading on thin ice, he knew that. But he kept up anyway. “I don’t want to overstep,” he said slowly, “But, Dean, your father… It doesn’t seem like he’s taken the time to get to know you. The real you, not the version he wants you to be, or the version he projects onto you.”

When Dean didn’t stop him, he continued. “And you don’t owe him anything, not anymore. You’re here, aren’t you? All on your own. He has no power over you. And, I’m only assuming, but I believe that might terrify him. Because not only do you no longer need him, but you may choose not to want him.”

Cas let out a small laugh. “Believe me, I know how difficult it is to stop putting stock in what your father thinks. It took me years to accept that I had done nothing wrong, that my father was, and always would be, a bigot. I… I’m still working on it, even now,” he admitted. Cas sighed. “But my life has been better, easier, since I stopped trying to please someone who hardly even knew me.”

Dean’s expression changed, and he blinked. He was still looking in Cas’s direction, but not at him. Past him, at some unknown subject. Cas took a step toward him.

“Dean?”

“I don’t need him,” Dean whispered.

“Are you all right?” Cas asked, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean let out a huff, overflowing with something like realization. “I never thought about that before. It’s not like he’s ever tried to talk to me.” Dean threw his cigarette on the asphalt and stomped it out. A breathy chuckle escaped his lips, and he wrapped his hands around his midsection. “You know, I used to try so hard to be like him.” Dean tilted his head toward the sky. “I listened to his music, I dressed like him. Hell, I even started talkin’ like him.

“It was never enough, you know? I always fucked up. Sam didn’t get to school on time, or I forgot milk at the grocery store. I just, I dunno. I know he loves me. But I always wanted him to like me, too, you know?”

“I do.”

“Oh man, you should’ve seen him when he found out I’d been hiding money away to go to college,” Dean said, laughing darkly. “I thought I was gonna go to school with a black eye for a week.”

“He hit you?” Cas asked, horrified.

“What? No, no,” Dean said quickly. “I just thought he might.”

Cas let out a breath. There was one crime John Winchester hadn’t committed. “What do you mean, hiding money?”

“Dad never really had a steady job, not after our mom died,” Dean explained. “That’s why we moved around a lot. When I was fourteen, I started working. Chickenshit stuff, mostly. Mowing lawns and detailing cars until I was old enough to start flippin’ burgers.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “The money was supposed to go to rent and food, but I started putting most of it aside, just in case, you know? I had enough for a year of college by the time I was a senior. I figured I could get loans and stuff for the rest.”

“And when you told him, he got angry?”

Dean only nodded, now staring intently at the ground. Cas didn’t say anything more, knowing Dean had probably just unloaded more trauma than he’d even known he had. Finally, though, Dean’s gaze met his.

“But I don’t need him,” he repeated.

“You don’t.”

“He’s nothing, unless I want him to be something,” Dean said slowly, and his eyes were growing triumphant. “Cas, you’re a genius.”

“If you say so.”

“You learn all that stuff from your sister? The one with a degree in ‘dealing with crazy fuckers’?”

Cas smiled. “Maybe,” he said. “And therapy isn’t just for ‘crazy fuckers.’”

Dean smirked at him. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘fuck’.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “It’s cold out here,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, okay.”

As they walked, Cas felt latent anger curl in his stomach. Dean hadn’t told Castiel much about his home life, not until that night. He understood, now, why Dean could so easily take care of others, but needed three beers and a cigarette to show his own vulnerabilities. In his eighteen years, had Dean ever been told that he was enough? The possibility that he hadn’t awakened something in Cas, some righteous fury.

He chided himself internally. How much of his selfish avoidance scheme had contributed to those feelings of inadequacy? He’d rather burn with the pain of unrequited love forever than let Dean think he wasn’t enough.

When they reached the entrance to their dorm, Cas put a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you okay, Dean?” He asked.

Dean let out a long breath. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I’m okay. I really am.” He said it like it might have been the first time he’d ever meant it.

Cas woke up at two in the morning from a particularly vivid dream. His breathing was heavy with the shock of waking up so suddenly. Dean was breathing slow and even across the room, still entirely asleep.

Cas shook his head a little. The dream had felt so real that it had left a residual burning feeling in his hand. He stared at it, but it remained entirely human.

Abruptly, he remembered his creative writing project. A short story, something he could turn into a poem and a stage scene. A lightbulb went off in his brain.

Cas lowered himself from his bed and hurriedly opened his computer. He had to get this down as soon as possible. Cas replayed the dream in his mind as his computer booted up. He supposed it might be a little strange, to turn this story in as his final project, considering it was somewhat of a self-insert. But it had everything he needed.

Finally, he opened a blank document and began to write the first draft. Cas wrote down everything he could remember from the dream, sights and sounds and feelings. With each word, his excitement grew. He’d never felt this way about a writing project, like the story demanded to be told.

Cas hit word count and kept going, because the story was building itself larger and larger. He didn’t even notice how long he’d been working until Dean’s six-a.m. alarm went off.

Dean groaned and rolled over in his bunk. He said something, but Cas didn’t hear, too intent upon getting the words in his head onto the page.

“Hey,” Dean said, raising his voice. “Stephen King, what the hell?”

Cas didn’t turn from the computer screen. “Good morning,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

Dean groaned. “Like the dead,” he said sarcastically. “How long you been up?”

Cas checked the time. “Somewhere around four hours,” he said.

“Four — you’ve been up since two?”

“Yes.”

Dean blanched and swung himself down from his bed. “Dude, that means you got, max, an hour and a half of sleep.” He made his way to Cas’s desk and leaned over his shoulder. Upon seeing the word count on his screen, his eyes widened.

“You wrote all that last night? Or this morning?” He asked.

Cas shrugged, a little sheepishly. “I got inspired.”

Dean blinked at him. “I’m gonna make a pot of coffee,” he said.

Cas wrote a few hundred more words before finding a good stopping point. He scrolled to the top of his document and highlighted the scenes he wanted to use for his project. Dean brought him a cup of coffee, which Cas accepted eagerly, beginning to feel the first twinges of exhaustion through his inspiration-fueled mania.

“What’re you writing over there?” Dean asked after taking a sip from his mug.

“It’s one of my final projects,” Cas replied. He drank from his own mug.

Dean looked at him in horror. “A five-thousand word essay?”

Cas laughed. “No. A thousand-word short story,” he said.

“What, so you’re an over-achiever?”

“No,” Cas said. “I’m only using the first thousand words for my project. But I just couldn’t stop. There was more to tell.” His cheeks flamed. Talking about his creative projects always embarrassed him.

“What’s it about?” Dean asked.

Cas gave him a sideways grin. “You’ll find out when you read it.”

Dean scowled. “At least tell me what you’re calling it.”

Cas looked up thoughtfully. “I don’t know for sure yet,” he said. “That reminds me…” He turned back to his computer to save the document. When faced with the title option, he faltered. He typed in “The Righteous Man.” That would do for now.

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

taglist! @nguyenxtrang @castielsbeeslippers

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #destiel fic

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for-peace-war · 4 years

Text

No, really. Lovecraft Country sucks.

These are spoilers, but I also don’t give a shit because it’s a bad show and I hope you skim enough to fucking skip it. I took a few days to decide if I hated it enough to write this and well, I do.

I will try my best not to say “X is a bad actor,” but instead stick with the characters as they’re intended save for one particular issue.

The Story

It isn’t very Lovecraftian. And don’t take this as me saying Lovecraft was some kind of master of his craft. I think he was an absurd racist that used xenophobia as his guise for what truly horrified the sane mind. That being said, the element of the unknown is definitely the hallmark of his world and that in no way is represented in this show. It could easily be called “Goosebumps: The Black Version” and it’d be just as authentic--if not more so, really.

The story deals with the Bible (?) and magic that comes from uh, knowing the names of things. You speak a made up language and then you do some kind of confusing magic that has no real purpose or point. I sound dismissive of this because I am, to be clear. They could have just as easily had this language be something whites stole from Africans and then perverted into their own means of power (it’d be a pretty easy parralel to any number of imperialist issues left behind in Africa, huh.)

But anyway, it has a tentacle monster. I think we see a big scary octopus at one point. But the monsters are often in your face and it’s probably less scary than Stranger Things S1.

Honestly, the characters repeat “autumnal equinox” so much that I felt I was going to have a fucking breakdown. Just the writing is very empty and no one seems to really care about anyone else on the screen except for in a rare moment between the only two characters that make it far and matter.

Characters

They aren’t very good. There are tropes present, which isn’t bad at all, but the way the characters interact, speak, and in general move us through the story feels stilted, often nonsensical, and entirely reliant on the viewer assuming that the latest sentence spoken is the only one that matters.

Atticus “Tic” Freeman

A war criminal that derives his power from the white blood inside of him. Again, dismissive but true. We see this man struggle to connect pieces to a puzzle and eventually he pays the price for it, but not in the way Lovecraft would have someone pay for endeavoring beyond their realm. Rather, something about fate and a book. Look, honestly? Who gives a shit. Tic murders a woman in coldblood and it’s never really touched on. There’s a lot that could be said about militaries, oppression, etc, but we often see these characters enact violence and then the story skips merrily beyond it. So yeah, he summarily executes a Korean woman and then is later shown torturing another, but it’s okay because he feels a little bad and fucks the Korean sex demon woman. More on that later. I felt nothing for him. He didn’t have some deep animus over being a torturing war criminal. He was just kind of moving through scenes and having confusing fights with his girlfriend/baby mama.

Letitia “Leti” Lewis

This is what empowerment shouldn’t look like. It amuses me that the show claimed to subvert some kind of norms when the primary love interest (and ultimate heroine) remains the lightest skinned sister in the room. She is able to maintain the appeal of the ingenue while at the same time having the understood attractiveness of her complexion. As far as Leti is concerned as a character, she too seems to be a pretty shitty person. We hear that she has “transactional” friendships and she seems pretty much all about self-survival and rarely if ever puts up where others do. She’s a heroine in the sense that the story makes her be heroic, but it never addresses how her flaws are ultimately all self-inflicted and unnecessary. She could just not be a shitty person.

Hippolyta Freeman

Well. Hidden Figures was an excellent film, and I think that’s where Hippolyta came from. In a more serious series, perhaps she and her daughter could have had a very touching arc that would deal with survival and exceptionalism in a world that maligns you for your very being. Unfortunately, in reality she just comes off as a character that’s quirky in a world that’s also quirky and she doesn’t get to harness her power. There’s an entire episode dedicated to how she discovers who she is and the result is well, her hair turns blue and she makes robots? I think the character TYPE is great, but they misused her here in all ways.

George Freeman

Well, well. If the series had remained about George, Tic, and Leti adventuring through America and encountering sundown towns and monsters both human and otherwise, I think it’d have been okay. The issue is, they wrote this series by the numbers so George is immediately thrown away. He’s a wise and circumspect guy that has his own flaws (he has patrarchical notions built around protecting/babying his genius wife, clearly), but the flaws he has are understandable and well reasoned. George dies early on. Then he sort of doesn’t, I guess? But the fact he did was really the nail in the coffin for this series. The moment they did that, the rest just became empty strokes. A story where George witnessed the others dying and going back to his wife and daughter would have had so much more heart to it, but well. Uncle George is literally one of the few bright spots.

Ruby Baptise

Much like her sister, Leti, Ruby is a terrible attempt at showing empowerent on the one hand, and a masterwork on the other. The bad first: she’s a rapist. I’ve been called a nigger before and while it didn’t feel great, I don’t think I’d have been justified in just sodomizing the person that did it. That entire sequence was weird and they tried to hype it as her reclaiming something, when really it spoke to a disgusting and gratuitous tendency toward Ruby: she’s always too much. Ruby, IMO, should have been Tic’s love interest. In a sense. First, because Wunmi Mosaku was a very attractive woman with impressive acting chops (she’s where I’ll break my moratirum, sorry), but also because it wouldn’t be what you’d see in every other show now: light-skinned pretty sister, dark-skinned sexual eikon. And that’s the issue with Ruby there: she’s always too much. She’s sexual by existing and that isn’t necessarily to her benefit since Leti, the good one, is an actual virgin before her sudden period sex. So the narrative has already spoken as to how it views sex. Yet, because they tried to give Ruby these strange strokes, she comes out as an interesting character. She has feelings, aspirations, and dreams that she’s kept from and that’s very real. In a story about the absurd, a sense of realness is a familiar handhold to gather your wits. She’s all that, really. It’s why she has the best relationships in the show, which is AGAIN an issue, but well. I’ll say Ruby was never bad to have on screen though I was disgusted with how often her blackess (and Blackness in general!) became the source of grotesque horror.

Christina Braithewaite

This is where I get annoyed. My issue with Christina is that she should have easily been the most hated character, but they overplayed their hand with not showing how nefarious she was. In fact? Christina and Ruby’s relationship is the only meaningful, real, and understandable one in the entire series. I felt no joy during her downfall, because I didn’t really get to see her doing anything bad? Just, consider what the show is. It’s about Lovecraft’s lore, ostensibly, which treats all non (specific types of) white men like dogs. So Christina comes at it from the “white” but “woman” perspective and you know, she has moments of duality that you can say is she more white or woman here. But they don’t execute on how sinister she should be. She’s a little rude at times? Yet she is the only person to treat Ruby like she should be treated and she’s the only person that seems to have a goal outside of “the quest.” It really bothered me that she came out so well done, because either they needed to have her for two seasons and make her far more nefarious after the first, or to just make her less a force for good. She saves the characters more than a few times and pays for it by being killed when she’s at her lowest. Yeah, it’s... a weird take.

Ji-Ah

What can I say? There are depictions of sex in the series, and they’re all negative: most of Ji-Ah’s scenes, Montrose’s angry self-loathing sex with his boyfriend, Ruby’s morphic horror scenes. In the case of most of those, there’s something being said. Ji-Ah is a monster, literally, that could be seen as Lovecraftian in the sense she’s an exotic Asian woman that kills men that sleep with her. So, HBO was like “we’ll blow our tits and ass budget on her,” and she exists for a series of sex scenes and vague, inscrutable... shit, maybe SHE is the most Lovecraft of all the characters! Anyway at some point she joins the party after confusing drama with Leti because they both fucked Tic. It’s okay though, because Ji-Ah isn’t here for any of that now. She’s the one who had the best friend that had her teeth yanked out by Tic, and also who was there when he shot her other friend in cold blood, but they get over that and she’s now their friendly red panda pal or some shit. It’s fucking trash. Much like the Freemans (sans Tic), I think she’d have done great in another show. But they rushed her story and it felt less Ghost Nation (Westworld) and more Masturbation (Jordan Peele).

Diana Freeman

Confusing. A stock character (quirky kid that does art, is impetuous, and won’t take no for an answer) that is given a lot of screen time. When she sort of hijacks an episode when two ragamuffin girls chase her down and infest her or something because racist cops. Well, the story veers to her direction. What can I say? If you like 11 from Stranger Things but wanted her to have Mike’s attitude, well. Here you go.

Montrose Freeman

He could have been a good character, I guess. He seemed unnecessary and often was there purely for an x-factor of “uh?” Like, his infamous scene where he slits a two-spirit Native American’s throat after we learn that this indigenous person had just been restored after being raped by bad guys. So there’s that. Also I guess he was self-loathing so he beat his son (that may not be his son???) and also liked fucking dudes, which was I think where we were supposed to care about him. It’s like someone saw Omar was a gun-wielding desperado of drug theft and decided, “Well what made him okay is he’s gay!” But it didn’t add much. I get he was angsty but other than Tic calling him a “faggot” (one of the few good scenes between them in terms of emotion), it all seemed empty and kind of meandering. At no point does Montrose seem a part of the team. He just half-mumbles, gets angry, cries, and falls apart.

Captain Seamus Lancaster

He’s barely a character, but I need to include him for another point. He’s the “bad guy.” I guess? He uses the bodies of black men to stay alive, which is actually a really smart reference to black bodies fueling the American system, but it comes off as cheesy because it just never comes up. He’s cartoonishly bad in a way that he’s less sinister than a meme. Compare him to say, Ridgeway from Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad. One’s a sinister representation of an oppressive system and the other’s well, a joke.

Racism

How could this not be a theme? The issue, as was shown with Lancaster, is that it isn’t even remotely handled with seriousness. The best scene of racism is in the first episode when Tic, George, and Leti are forced to leave a Sundown county before they’re lynched by the racist sheriff. The anticipation and animosity lead to some serious anxiety and it was a nailbiter.

But after that? White people say “nigger.” Then they get, I don’t know, raped or spit on or who knows. A lot of black people talk back to the cops anyway in the 50′s and that’s cool.

But the real monsters of the series are all black people. Let’s go through it:

Tic brutalized women in the Korean War.

Montrose killed the two-spirit person.

Ruby rapes the shop owner.

Diane crushes Christina’s throat.

Ruby literally sheds her flesh in repeatedly gratuitous acts of the grotesque.

Even Ji-Ah, who’s not black, is a monster in the literal sense. We do see the doctor that experimented on black people, but that’s about 5 minutes at the end of an episode that has a baby’s head on a man’s body so I was too busy laughing at the absurdity to take any real meaning from it.

The truth is, in Lovecraft Country, white people always should do their best to kill or keep black people down. It definitely doesn’t speak at all to any togetherness or what have you. Just, well. Magical negroes doing bad stuff because nothing can stop them.

The show misses the chances to show real horror in race. Hell, the Tulsa Riots are reduced to a backdrop for a confusing book scene. But then again, Emmett Till becomes a kind of empty reference point that we then see a white woman act out... for some reason?

Again, the only characters with any chemistry are Ruby and Christina, which is very unfortunate for any number of reasons. As far as a statement that racism is bad goes, I mean. I barely saw it. If I was a racist I’d be like hell yeah, Lovecraft was right they are dangerous.

Even when people try to indicate the horrors of it like, “Oh, the Korean War scenes are bad because we see how men are forced into the military complex!” We didn’t see a white officer say “Shoot her, boy,” it was just two black guys killing women with no care at all. And no compeuppance, so that’s cool.

The Music

Sucks. Thanks Peaky Blinders for making modern music over gif sets a thing.

Conclusion

I sure as hell would never watch it again. If I can get one other person not to, then maybe it’d be worth it. It’s not a good show. It’s not “smart,” and there’s no secret subversion in it. It’s just... bad.

I won’t post on it anymore. Please, in true Lovecraft fashion, trust me when I say that this show is so bad it cannot be comprehended.

#lovecraft country

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seulgiswhoreee · 3 years

Text

collab works

this is everything i have ever written or will ever write in regards to collabs, to be updated with every new change <33

format:

member

title of collab (collab link) - title of fic / plot

teaser link | fic link

Taeil

Crimes Through Neo City {Canceled} - All You Can Do Is Run / "Wanna tell me why you keep running from your problems? From him? And while we're at it, explain to him why you packed up and left that day.", "All I can do is run, you know that."

teaser | fic

Hide If You Can - 3, 2, 1, run! (original ik) / "If we're going to be teaming up and surviving together, let's hope you can shoot a gun."

teaser | fic

Hiraeth - greedy / in which you slowly find yourself greedy for more of famous CEO Moon's son, Taeil, touch.

teaser | fic

Johnny

Aether - mirrors / Everything is not what it seems.

teaser | fic

The Music Shop - Looking 4 Myself / Johnny's journey to finding himself, and in retrospect, you.

teaser | fic

Yuta

Traepmora Academy - causa perdida / in which professor'sson!yuta is forced to tutor you and learns what it's like to be a celebrity's daughter, always in the spotlight, always under pressure, he regrets thinking you were a lost cause.

teaser | fic

Kun

Kokuhaku - hit reset / in which kun gets a heavy feeling of deja vu.

teaser | fic

Doyoung

Twisted Eras - Who is in control? / "See you on the other side."

teaser | fic

Jaehyun

Party Time - intoxicated / in which you and jaehyun have a bad habit of only loving each other when intoxicated.

teaser | fic

The Story Of Us - the story that never seemed to end / the story of y/n and jaehyun, the story that never seemed to end, literally.

teaser | fic

Wish We Could Turn Back Time - cotton club affairs / in which jaehyun longs for something more than just your cotton club affairs

teaser | fic

Write Your Own Story - powerful / From the very first time we loved, from the very first time we touched; the stroke of your fingers, the scent of you lingers. It burns like a fire, electricity, when you're close I feel the sparks. When you hold me, when you touch me. It's so powerful.

teaser | fic

Winwin

Like A Dream {Canceled} - the moon & stars / As we sat, silence slowly loomed over us with only the bright moon and twinkling stars to accompany us. And as I locked eyes with him, I knew I was doomed.

teaser | fic

Jungwoo

Lights! Camera! Action! {Canceled} - side character / in which you are the side character in an uprising k-drama starring your crush, jungwoo, and his crush.

teaser | fic

Lucas

All Monsters Are Human {Canceled} - crazy in love / "Did you do it..?", "I did it for love.. for you." His grin widens, he must be crazy.

teaser | fic

Mark

Do You Like Scary Movies? - 13 Cameras / in which someone plants 13 cameras in your house to learn your routine, which ultimately helps in your demise. (loosely based on the movie 13 Cameras but executed differently - would now be a good time to say that i haven't watched that movie in years.)

teaser | fic

Enter: Doom - The Last Option: Gate 11 / in which you have no clue that the world is literally ending and when you do get a clue, you regret not spending every waking moment with the love of your life.

teaser | fic

Superstition Made Me Afraid To Love - chopsticks, chop this / you feel silly to be avoiding mark lee and his love just because of vertically standing chopsticks.

teaser | fic

The Language Of Thorns - unbreak my heart / "oh so you can physically heal wounds but you won't heal my heart?"

teaser | fic

What Lurks In The Dark - poison / stay home with your boring parents or be at a party all weekend with the people in school who used to pick on you, pick your poison.

teaser | fic

Write Your Own Story - guns and knives / the guns and knives are the only thing keeping you from loving mark.

teaser | fic

Hendery

The Thrill Of It All - cotton candy and funnel cakes / your first date with your highschool crush, hendery.

teaser | fic

Renjun

Remember Me For All Centuries - runaways, strays / “Let’s run away together, baby.”

teaser | fic

Jeno

The Lakes - my tears ricochet / my favorite things about you.

teaser | fic

Unsolved - be my bride, till the end of time / welcome to the best and worst 8 days of jeno's life

teaser | fic

Haechan

Lies - bad liar / "your lies can't save you now, you're trapped in them."

teaser | fic

Phantom Of The Opera - want, need, desire / in which donghyuck desires you in ways that scare you.

teaser | fic

The Dark Room - carried away / in which donghyuck gets carried away with his lovin'

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Olympus Is Falling - please, take me home / in which you literally are the goddess sent from heaven to brighten donghyuck's life.

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Jaemin

23 Ways To Fall In Love - beginning, middle, end / The story of you and Jaemin is like a rollercoaster. Bumpy, smooth, high, low, and everything in between but it all starts when you spot Jaemin on the other side of the cafeteria cozying up with the most popular girl in school and your feelings for him start to uncover. Will your newfound and obvious crush on Jaemin catch his attention or is there more to the story?

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Sleep Paralysis - the expressionless / in which you interview and charm a doctor who did the workup for who he thought was the expressionless woman.

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Open Ending - edge of a cliff / loving jaemin is like a cliff. you would haul yourself off of it as soon as you got close enough, letting yourself blissfully fall thinking you would have someone to catch you. loving you is easy. all he has to do is stand there and catch you in his arms, give you the world you deserve. but then why does it feel like such a burdened task?

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Yangyang

Let’s Fake It - dance with me / So move me, baby, shake like the bough of a willow tree.

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Shotaro

Aristocracy - i hate you, i love you / in which you get arranged to marry the one person you hate with all of your life.

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Avenoir - soulmates in crime / you expected to meet your soulmate in a sweet romantic way, like meeting in the coffee shop near your house, eyes turning gold to indicate that this is the person you're destined to love. you certainly did not expect to meet your soulmate during a bank heist, eyes turning gold as you bleed out next to him, bullet wound almost penetrating your left kidney. your soulmate didn't expect to meet his soulmate in this situation either, and he certainly didn't expect you to come back to life after bleeding out in his arms.

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Chenle

Love On The Workfield - like romeo & juliet / "like romeo and juliet, forbidden but forever."

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Jisung

No Promises - promises are meant to be broken / jisung breaks the one promise that kept you sane.

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Strawberries & Cigarettes - kiss me silly / it hurts to hate jisung as much as you do for breaking your heart. it hurts to love him still.

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When You Love Someone - the art of destruction / The Raven is told to be a bird that brings wisdom, affection, and healing. However, Ravens are also told to be birds that bring darkness and great voids. When the lives of two raven-haired teenagers clash, one will love and one will destroy. There is a consequence for loving, for caring but that destruction, that darkness goes unseen by those around them for weeks and when recognized, it might just be too late.

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secret-engima · 5 years

Note

You’re probably gonna be mad I’m asking, but what happens to Cloud-as-Prompto when Cor and the other citadel adults figure out his home situation?

*sigh-laughs* I’m not mad, I’ve known for a while now that Tumblr is filled with enablers and the moment I yote a new AU into existence it would get asks about it XPP. Alright then buckle up NEW FICLET:

-It takes them a while to figure it out, not because Cloud/Prompto is ... particularly hiding it, he just makes sure to never mention it because he doesn’t want any drama and the adults at first assume everything is fine.

-When Prompto stays over for sleepovers with his new friend the Prince, they are mostly concerned with security, not with the boy’s home life. They assume his parents gave permission, because- well- the Citadel, of course their child would be safe there.

-But then he keeps coming over for sleepovers more and more frequently, to the point one day Cor sits up and realizes he hasn’t seen anyone take Prompto HOME in about two weeks now and THAT raises red flags. He discreetly asks around and all the servants confirm that no, Prompto hasn’t gone home in two weeks. He goes to school with Prince Noctis and then comes to the Citadel with him.

-Alarm bells fully ringing now, Cor goes to ask Prompto about it himself, because surely there’s an explanation that isn’t the one poisoning the tip of his tongue.

-Prompto looks up from the video game he’s playing with Noctis when Cor enters, and something in Cor screams. He’s been politely avoiding the boy for the most part, one because his job does genuinely keep him busy and two because he doesn’t want to ... put expectations on the boy that shouldn’t be there. This is not the baby he gave away for the boy’s own safety, not the baby he grew so attached to hauling him out of the lab and to safety in Insomnia over the course of months. This boy is one who has been raised from age 1 in a loving, proper home environment, who has no memory of who Cor is beyond the “Immortal” persona the media touts. Cor SHOULD be looking at a happy, gentle child, if a shy, quiet one from all reports of the servants.

-So why is he looking into the eyes of a soldier?

-Noctis pauses their game and bounds up, eagerly asking why Cor has come to visit. Cor idly pats Noctis’s head without taking his eyes off Prompto, who stares back with assessing blue eyes. There is warmth there, a sort of trust Cor assumes must come from Noctis’s stories (because there is no way the boy remembers those months on the run, no way), but aside from that spark, there is no childishness. No naivety. He doesn’t see the shyness the reports mention, he sees the cool assessment of a soldier, watching the world for threats.

-Cor begins to feel sick.

-He hides it and gently asks Prompto about what he’s noticed, about the two weeks of unbroken sleepover, and does Cor need to call his parents? Is everything alright? They DO know where he is, don’t they?

-Prompto shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. He tells Cor that everything is fine, Zack (Prompto’s nickname for Noctis, though Cor has no clue as to the logic behind it) just wanted him to stay over this long, that’s all. No, Cor doesn’t need to call his parents, everything is fine, he likes being in the Citadel with his friend.

-Prompto doesn’t answer the last question. Cor asks it again. Prompto’s gaze flickers away with something akin to ... hurt. Not the guilt of a child, but the unease and simmering anger of someone who is thinking “why now? Why do you care now?” and Cor feels dread as Prompto shrugs.

-That’s not an answer, he tells Prompto.

-Prompto sighs and shrugs again, “I left them a note. I don’t know if they’ve read it by now or not. Depends on if they came home before heading to their next conference.”

-And Cor’s world drops out from under him.

-Cor asks more questions until Prompto seems to get distressed and suddenly Noctis is there, bristling protectively, a too-old glint of magic in his eyes that only happens when a genuine tantrum of all tantrums is on the way. Noctis tells Cor to get out and Cor evacuates. He has research to do anyway.

-It takes him a week to compile all the clues and reports and evidence (a week Prompto spends with Noctis, a still unbroken “sleepover” that is now alarming in its length). It takes him several hours in the training room before he is sane enough to present his findings to Regis.

-He glares at Regis and Clarus the entire time they read. Tries very, VERY hard not to sound accusing when he asks what they want to do now (tries hard not to let his fury leak into his voice or manner, his urge to scream at them because THEY were the ones who vetted the couple that adopted Prompto, THEY were the ones who were supposed to know what decent parents looked like and pick a good home life for the baby Cor brought home, not the child soldier, not Cor, and look at where it’s led).

-He is mildly gratified by the look of guilt on Clarus’s face and the horrified anger on Regis’s.

-The Argentums are a very respected couple, upstanding members of their community, hard workers, and donators to charity. They are well liked by their colleagues and peers, trusted by their employers to the point they get sent often on business trips on behalf of the company, and while they are by no means RICH, they are comfortably middle class.

-None of the people Cor’s agents had interviewed, not even the ones who considered themselves close friends of the Argentums, even knew they had a child. If it weren’t for the school attendance records, yearly checkups at the local hospital, and periodic purchase of toys for Christmas and birthdays, there would be no evidence that Prompto Argentum even EXISTED.

-Toys were not a replacement for love and presence in a child’s life, and the Argentums were definitely NOT doing that.

-“Cor-” Clarus starts, Cor growls at him, feral and furious and hurting, his fingers itching with the memory of holding the child he saved from that lab, his heart shuddering with the memory of how the boy had reached for him and cried when he handed him off to what Cor had been PROMISED would be loving, gentle parents.

-“You will FIX this,” Cor snarls wetly.

-Regis nods, his magic unfurling to settle on Cor’s shoulders like an apology and sympathetic anger all in one, “We will contact child services immediately and have him removed form their custody. I will personally ensure this is kept quiet and away from the media. The Argentums are not ... unreasonable people. Once they are shown the evidence of their own- their own neglect, I’m certain they will give him up without a fight. We’ll find suitable-.”

-“You will give him to me.” Clarus and Regis stop and stare at Cor. Cor who’s hands are balled into shaking fists and his lungs stinging with the fury he thought he’d worked out in a training room, “We did it your way and Prompto has been neglected all his life. Give him to me.”

-Regis’s lips thin in worry, “Cor, raising a child is- a huge responsibility, they require a great deal of time-,”

-“Time the Argentums never spent?”

-“There is also security to think of, it has been seven years since you broke into that lab, but there is still a chance someone will look at his age and realize what he is.”

-Cor can feel his teeth grinding, “Just say it’s because he’s Noctis’s friend. I took him in for security purposes, to ensure the prince’s best friend was well protected. He can even keep the Argentum surname. He looks like them, no one will think of the lab baby that disappeared.”

-Clarus reached out and gently touched Cor’s shoulder, “And if he does not want to live with you? You’re a stranger to him, Cor. A FAMOUS and intimidating stranger.”

-Cor comes so close to punching Clarus in the mouth it’s a miracle he doesn’t. He shakes off Clarus’s hand and storms out, back to the training rooms to try to get a measure of his sanity back.

-The entire process is kept very, very quiet. With the king himself backing the order and Prompto’s original origins weighing in the back of their minds, the Argentums fold to the claims and give up Prompto without a fight. Cor thinks there is genuine regret and heartbreak in their eyes, genuine surprise and horror when their crimes are listed before them. As if they hadn’t realized until that moment just how MUCH time they spent away from the house and the little boy they claimed to love. Cor feels nothing but anger toward them.

-Prompto is informed of his removal from their custody only after the fact and he goes very, very still. Something cold lingers in blue eyes as he quietly asks if he’s going to be placed in the foster system. Cor is angry again that Prompto doesn’t ask about his parents, doesn’t demand to go back to his “mom” and “dad” (is angry that he calls them “the Argentums”, like he never thought of them as parents in the first place). Noctis is clinging to his best friend with wide eyes and instantly begs Regis to adopt “Cloud” so they can be brothers. Regis smiles sadly and explains he can’t do that, it would put a spotlight on Prompto that he doesn’t need, and that Prompto deserves to go to new parents who can spend time with him.

-“I don’t want them.” Everyone stops and looks at Prompto. Prompto glares at the floor, works his jaw and carefully outlines each word on his tongue before saying it, “I don’t want to go to new parents. My last ones didn’t care, what will make the new ones any different? They’ll keep me away from Zack. Or just want to adopt me for my connection to the royal prince. I don’t want new parents.”

-Regis reaches out a hand and starts to gently explain that Prompto HAS to have parents, that this time will be better, Prompto just hunches his shoulders and glares harder at the floor. There is something cold and broken in those blue eyes, something Cor KNOWS down to the fibers of his soul.

-Why do I bother saying anything when I know no one will listen to what I want anyway? My opinion doesn’t matter.

-I don’t matter.

-He’d seen those eyes in the mirror for a very, very long time until he ran away and joined the Crownsguard at thirteen, desperate enough to MAKE something of himself, to BE someone, that he was willing to risk death in the military. If only because joining was HIS choice, not someone else’s.

-Cor is speaking before he can think better of it, “What do you want then?”

-Every stops and stares at him. Noctis is already beaming hopefully at Cor, and Prompto looks ... surprised, wary. Cor kneels down in front of the seven year old, equalizing their heights as much as he can, and murmurs seriously, “You need a guardian of some kind, it’s the law. But if you don’t want new parents, what DO you want? Is there anyone- is there anyone you would prefer as a caretaker? One of your teachers, or ... even one of the servants here in the Citadel? We could ask if they would be willing to adopt you. At least until your age of majority.”

-Prompto stares at him, the looks down at the floor. He blinks rapidly as tears start to form and mutters something Cor could have sworn was “stupid child hormones” under his breath before sniffling loudly and ....

-Reaching out to tentatively hook his fingers around Cor’s sleeve.

-“Can I ... pick you?” Blue eyes peer at him shyly, cautiously, “Can I pick you as my guardian?” And Cor feels like his chest is going to burst.

-He wants to say yes instantly, but instead he asks, “Are you sure? You don’t know me. I am the Marshal of the Crownsguard, my duties will keep me very busy. I WILL make time for you whenever you need, but I won’t be able to spend as much ... as much time with you as you deserve.”

-Prompto’s lips twitch into something like a smile, “You’re safe,” he whispers and then looks away like he’s embarrassed. Then he opens his mouth and shatters Cor’s world, “You took me away from the- the men in white coats, and the cold, and the green.” The boy shudders with MEMORY that he should have and glances at Cor again, “I trust you.”

-And Cor can’t breathe.

-Regis and Clarus both look like a stiff wind could knock them over (just like how Cor feels) and Regis manages a strangled, “You were just a baby...”

-And Prompto shrugs, lets go of Cor’s jacket to fidget with the band around his wrist (that covers his barcode, covers the one visible remaining sign of the trauma and experiments they had done to him and oh ASTRALS how much does the boy remember), “It hurt a lot. People remember things that hurt better than they remember nice things. It was cold, and ... scary. They kept making me sick. Then Cor came. He picked me up and took me away. He brought me here and ... I know the Argentums weren’t very good parents. But they never hurt me. They never-” Prompto’s eyes blow wide and his breath stutters like he’s remembering something truly terrible and he shrinks mindlessly into Noctis’s tight hug, shaking like a leaf in genuine terror before he shakes his head and looks pleadingly at Cor, “I trust you,” he whispers again and its a knife to Cor’s heart, “please. Don’t send me away this time.”

-Noctis is still clinging to Prompto like a protective limpet, so when Cor reaches out and snatches Prompto against his chest, he’s clutching Noctis as well, but he doesn’t CARE. Because Prompto REMEMBERS the lab and the flight, somehow he remembers (has to remember, because the Argentums were never told any of that, there was no one but Cor to tell Prompto about those things and Cor hadn’t spoken to Prompto in all those seven years) all the trauma and fear and that Cor had LEFT him and Cor knows he will never forgive himself for this.

-But he will make it right.

-“Okay,” he breathes into Prompto’s hair, “You can stay. You can stay with me.” He inhales shakily, raises his head and GLARES at Regis and Clarus, daring them to disagree this time. Oath or no oath, king or no king, Cor will fight them this time if they try to take Prompto away.

-Regis dips his head in a shaky acknowledgement, still off-balance from the revelation that Prompto remembered “I’ll have the paperwork brought up.”

-Cor buries his face in Prompto’s hair again with a shaky sigh and a tight squeeze. Prompto is his.

-He’s never, ever letting go again.

#SE asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse #dad!cor #oh look new ficlet

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

Text

Secret in His Eyes

Spinoff of Sins of the Father

Genre: Mafia Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: A vacation exploring China’s famous city was supposed to be relaxing. When you witness a horrifying murder, you instead find yourself in police custody, unable to run. Trying to stay alive, you meet Luhan, and you believe you can trust him. You never imagined that he might be the one you should be running from.

Part: Prologue I 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final

Your breath caught in your throat.

Run away. That’s what every fiber in your being was screaming at you. But it wasn’t out of fear. No, it was because you knew if you gave in, running away would no longer be the ultimate goal. You knew the strength of your own resolve and it wasn’t much.

At your silence, Luhan let out a sigh and stepped back. “I understand. But I’ll keep my promise to you. I’ll find out who’s behind all of this and I’ll keep you safe.”

Some part of your brain panicked, snapping out your hand and grabbing his wrist to make him stay. Why couldn’t you just walk away? You wouldn’t walk out of the mansion – it still too dangerous for that – but you still had the physical ability to walk out of this room. Yet, here you were, clinging to him.

“I want to hate you so much,” you growled through your teeth. Before he could respond, you pulled him to you, careful not to hurt him further. It didn’t start out as the most romantic kiss, with lips crashing together in a way that sent a minor shockwave through your jaw.

Luhan immediately wrapped his arms around you. You could practically feel his heartbeat against your chest, pounding at the same high speed as yours. As the kiss deepened, you lost control of your own actions and push Luhan back until he collided with the dresser. The momentum of the hit caused the picture frame sitting on top to fall the ground. It landed on the corner, shattering the protective glass.

With a gasp, you pulled away. “Oh, crap! Luhan, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” he said with a slight chuckle. Using the inside of his foot, he kicked the frame under the bed, leaving behind a few specs of glass in its wake. “I should have gotten rid of it a long time ago.” A smile spread across his face as he looked at you.

You sighed. “This doesn’t mean I can stay.”

The grin lost a bit of its shine as he took in your words. “I know,” he said sadly. “But can I be with you as long as you’re here?”

“I think I can do that,” you nodded.

“Now, that the lovey-dovey scene is over, can we get back to what’s really important here?”

You let out a squeak at Tao’s sudden intrusion, making Luhan “oof” when you jumped in closer to him. You threw a mumbled “sorry,” his way and he patted your shoulder in response, letting you know you hadn’t hurt him too much. You were going to have to be more careful around him for the time being. The last thing you needed was to have a clumsy moment and rip his wound back open.

Taking your hand in his, he started leading you towards the door.

“Does the mouse have to come?” Tao sneered.

“She’s involved in this just as much as you and me,” Luhan said. “So, the answer is yes.”

Clearly not happy with that finite statement, Tao rolled his eyes and pushed off the door frame he was leaning on. His stomps down the hallway could be felt a few feet behind, vibrating the walls and floors with each step. Luhan squeezed your hand reassuringly – or, at least, he was trying to be reassuring. If Tao was being hostile towards you like this, you hated what awaited for you from the other one.

Since Luhan’s office was now in shambles, the meeting was to take place in the dining room. Kris was already there, his long frame sitting back on the table, hands shoved into the pockets of his navy slacks. Yixing was seated on the opposite side. His elbows were resting on the table while his folded hands covered his mouth. The tension between his eyebrows and far off look in his eyes told you that he was in deep thought. What about, you weren’t sure, but for him to be frowning so furiously… it had you worried.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Tao said as he sat down in the chair next to Yixing. “The lovebirds got a little distracted.”

Immediately at that comment, you snatched your hand away from Luhan’s and crossed your arms over your chest so he couldn’t take it back. A somewhat hurt look was sent your way before his face hardened on the younger member.

“Watch it, Tao. I’m not in the mood for your stupid attempts at jokes.”

“I don’t care as long as you stay focused during this,” Kris commented. He straightened up, moving out of the way so Luhan could take his seat at the head of the table.

You, on the other hand, stayed back.

“Sit down, (y/n).” Luhan motioned to one of the many empty chairs for you to choose from, but you shook your head.

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

He simply nodded, obviously disappointed that you were pulling away again. You couldn’t help it. Space was the only thing keeping you sane at the moment.

“So, what have you found?” Luhan asked as he turned to Tao.

Tao leaned back in his chair, leaving one hand on the table to rap his knuckles against. “Chan was able to find a majority of the pieces to the bomb. It was small, meant to damage, but not kill. For the most part, anyway. The design is very unique. He traced it back to a man known only as Mr. Eight.”

“Mr. Eight?” Kris snorted. “So terrifying.”

“He’s called that because once his bombs are detonated, you only have eight seconds before you see the last flash of your life,” Yixing explained. “He was most known for working closely with Liang Zheng. Until he died.” His telling gaze flickered over to Luhan.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Yixing was implying: that Luhan was responsible for that man’s death. Just when you were beginning to let yourself forget what exactly his world contained, you were rudely awakened from that dream to realize you were still stuck in the nightmare.

Part of you wanted Lin back, even though you never really had him. With Lin, it was easier to pretend. Easier to imagine him leaving this life behind. Luhan was a constant reminder of what could possibly happen to you if you stayed too long.

Luhan kept his own eyes down on the dark wood table. There was almost a red hue to the stain, making you want to keep away from it even more. “What were the last known whereabouts of Mr. Eight?”

“His last siting was in Qingdao,” Tao answered. “That was about five years ago. No one has seen or heard from him since. Until now.”

“If it really is him who sent the bomb and not someone who might have trained under him,” Kris pointed out.

Luhan shook his head. “No, I think it’s really him. If it was someone who trained under him, they’d have their own signature mixed in there. These kinds of guys can’t stand not getting the credit.”

Straightening up, Yixing moved his hands so they were now laying in his lap. “So, what do you propose we do?”

“We’ll send a few men down to Qingdao to see if they can find some trace of him,” Luhan concluded.

“I’ll go with them,” Tao volunteered. “I know the area well.”

“Going to go see her while you’re at it,” Kris teased with a smirk.

Tao rolled his eyes in annoyance, but the smile on his face was telling a different story.

Your mind recalled the time that Luhan had said you would be surprised about what a romantic Kris could be. Did all of these guys have some sort of romance in their lives? It was hard to picture, apart from Yixing, at least. You could see him as the hero of a love story. But the others? Not so much. The Godfather wasn’t exactly something you’d find in the romance drama section.

“Just do it and try to stay on task.” Luhan groaned. His hand went to his side, cradling the wound that was still trying to heal. You took an involuntary step towards in, but stopped when you saw Yixing already by his side. This man was bringing out your instinct to comfort and take care. Just another reason that he was dangerous for you.

“You should get back to bed,” Yixing told him as he checked his pulse from his wrist. He counted off the seconds with his watch, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as time went on. “This is putting too much stress on you and your body won’t heal if you keep it up.”

When you had expected was another witty one-liner from Luhan, instead he simply smiled, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Okay. I could use some more rest any way.” Then he turned to look at you. “(y/n), will you help me back to my room?”

All eyes turned to you. Well, now you really couldn’t say no, could you?

With a silent nod, you slowly walked over and helped Luhan up to his feet. For a second, he staggered, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it was all for show given that his arm somehow landed around the small of your back. Not exactly the best place for support. Tao must have agreed because he rolled his eyes for the millionth time since you’d met him and stalked out of the room.

“Do you have him, (y/n)?” Yixing asked.

You looked up at Luhan with a slightly annoyed expression. “Yeah, I’ve got him.” To Luhan, you said, “Come on. Let’s go.”

It was a slow journey back to his room – which was surprising since he wasn’t exactly the biggest guy in this mansion - but eventually you were able to get him back, helping him up onto the bed that was sitting way too high off the ground.

“You should think about investing in a lower frame,” you mumbled.

“But I like it. It’s comfortable.” For added emphasis, he patted the space beside him.

A motion which you promptly ignored. You were already starting to regret your earlier kiss, especially now with the new information that another man was dead because of him. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that you didn’t have all the details surrounding his death, so you could imagine Luhan being as disconnected from it as possible. But that didn’t make the regret of the kiss go away. Because it kept you here, despite the boundaries you’d created for yourself. It was a line that you had drawn not too long ago and yet you already crossed it. And the thing is, no matter how thin or poorly drawn that line was, it was nearly impossible to step back over.

“Get some rest,” you told him.

“I’ll sleep better knowing that you’re here,” he threw back at you.

That was nothing more than a line, you were sure of it. But, against your better judgement, you shut the door to his room. You made sure that the most annoyed glare was on your face as crawled up on the bed next to him. He wasted no time pulling you in close so your head was resting on his chest.

“You promised to stay.”

“No, I said I would be with you as long as I was here,” you reminded him. “We both know I can’t stay. If an out comes along, I’ll probably take it.”

Luhan let out a long, burdened sigh as he rubbed your arm up and down with his palm. “I can protect you.”

You sat up and stared down at him in disbelief. “It’s not just about being scared, Luhan. This is your world. Not mine. I’m not built for it.”

He bobbed his head in understanding before reaching out and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I guess that’s the ultimate sacrifice for getting where I am today. I can’t be happy with you and keep my life here. It’s not fair.”

“We all make choices,” you said. You brought up your hand to cover his and leaned into his touch. “But think of it this way. If you’d gone down another path, then you never would have met me.”

“An alternative I’m sure you’re wishing had been.”

You shook your head. “No. I honestly can’t say that I am.”

It was true. Yes, you wished you didn’t have the trauma that came along with everything. Or the horrible memories of blood and bullets. But the man lying in front of you… you couldn’t regret him. You couldn’t bring yourself to wish him out of your life.

What was wrong with you?

Deciding that that was a question you would never be able to answer, you lean forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Get some sleep,” you urged as you lowered his hand to rest on his stomach.

He let the smallest of smiles pull on his lips. “Okay.”

Soon enough, his eyelids closed. You watched a little while longer as his breathing deepened and the softest snore vibrated in his throat. You laughed to yourself quietly before slipping off the bed and leaving the room.

You weren’t sure where you were going, only that you were needing room to breathe, room to think. You couldn’t stay. You had to keep your stand on that. You couldn’t waver after saying so many times that you needed to leave. If only he didn’t make it so hard.

Over and over, you told yourself that it was because he was hurt. If you saw his real self, the notorious leader that was known to strike fear in lower level criminals now that you were privy to the truth, you would probably feel different.

Looking up, you realized you’d somehow came to the back door that Luhan had brought you through a few weeks ago. You glanced around to see if anyone was around. Sure, there were cameras everywhere, but you weren’t running away. Outside just meant fresh air, open space, and relaxation. It was too tempting to resist.

No alarm went off when you opened the door. No one tackled you or ran after you, yelling for you to stop or they’d shoot. So you kept going. The plan was to walk around, let your thoughts collect themselves, and then you’d be right back. You had nowhere else to go right now, so what would be the point in running? You didn’t have a safer option for the moment. You told Luhan that you would stay, until you had a chance to leave. That was your only promise.

“(y/n)!”

You groaned. Barely amongst the trees and you were already caught.

Turning around, your eyes grew wide, nearly falling out of your head at the person running towards you.

Detective Zhuang was dodging branches and leaves as she came to a stop in front of you, huffing to catch her breath.

You gaped at her appearance. “What are you doing here?”

Still hunched over and breathing heavily, she waved away your question. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to you since I found out you were here. I can’t believe my luck.” She stood up and held her hand out for you. “Come with me. Now.”

You took a step back, eyes flickering back at the mansion behind you. Yes, you’d just been wondering about when you’d be able to leave, but her offer felt like trading one cage for another. And you’d already seen how unsafe you were in the hands of the police. “I can’t. I can’t leave.”

Detective Zhuang scoffed. “Why not? This is the perfect time to escape.” Studying your face, she narrowed her eyes at you. “Please, tell me you haven’t grown to sympathize with them. Those are bad men, (y/n). If you haven’t been hurt yet, you will be. Besides, I can get you out of the country.”

Your head snapped up. That changed everything. “What? You can? How?”

A wicked smile grew on her face. “The man who you witness murder that mafia member? He’s dead. We found his body on the banks of the river. The gun used was found on his person. Case closed. The judge said you could go home. You can go home and leave all of this behind.”

It felt too good to be true. Part of you wanted to question it, but if you denied yourself this one chance to go home, you might never get another one. Taking one last glance behind you, you gave a silent farewell to Luhan. You weren’t breaking any promises, only fulfilling it.

I’m sorry, Luhan. Goodbye.

Looking back to Detective Zhuang, you nodded and took her hand, letting her lead you through the trees and finally to freedom.

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