#to give him a family is to give him a background where suddenly his behaviour is much less nature

[fruiteggsaladit]

Every once in a while I'll despair a little at finding so little Hina and/or Rui or Koorime content in general and then I'll recall how in a post asking "whatever character you're drawing their fate is yours now", a description of mine of Hina (I think I said "had illegal sex and will die in illegal childbirth (allegedly, in the manga, but yes does die) or by suicide after having said illegal childbirth (allegedly, in the anime)") picqued someone's interest and they wondered what that character was from. I told them and then they never asked me any further abt that (fair, it's a heavy description to hear on the Internet from a stranger and the yyh fandom is terrifying and Hina's presence in the story as "tragic female character willing to die in childbirth" and it being not left to much speculation Why She Was Willing To Do That aside from the expectant "well she's a female character and she was written by a man so it must've been the ye old ideal and self-sacrificing mother trope" are all fine reasons that come to mind) but I'm carrying that affirmation in my heart! I know that if a character's story is just told in an interesting way, they can in fact become interesting through that interpretation, even if at first they were expected to be boring.

[konmaao3]

What’s Viren’s deal?

All throughout Season 5 he emphasizes that he always did what was necessary to protect his family. And he doesn’t just lie to fool someone here because a lot of the related dialogue takes place in his fever dream (although humans are also perfectly capable of lying to themselves, so that’s no ultimate evidence).

But obviously all of that contradicts his behaviour in the first arc where he repeatedly stated that even family members might have to be sacrificed for the greater good (e.g. when telling Claudia to prioritize the egg over Soren). Where does this change of heart come from?

[pessimistic solution: the writers simply retconned Viren’s motivation so that it aligns with Claudia’s, which makes for interesting parallels]

It has been suggested that dark magic may be morally corrupting in some way, and dying might have cleansed Viren of that corruption.

Of course focusing on the wellbeing of humanity is not necessarily more evil than focusing on the wellbeing of your family, but the first approach is a more utilitarian one that requires a very rational worldview that is to some extent detached from your personal emotions. So perhaps that’s what happened.

However, there are also two other lines I found interesting. When Viren climbs the Storm Spire in S4, he says:

My whole life, I’ve been chasing after things I didn’t have. Influence. Status. Power.

That stood out to me because I hadn’t actually perceived him that way. Power seemed to be just a means to an end, this end being protecting his family humanity. But there is another similar line, this time from Kpp’Ar in Viren’s dream:

You made the choice you’ve always made. The one that gives you power.

And chasing power is very much a thing we tend to associate with moral corruption. Although, as pointed out above, power could simply be a tool. So far that leaves us with three different goals for Viren:

protecting his family

protecting humanity

power [in order to do 1./2.?]

Which brings me to something Viren says towards dream-Harrow:

It is everything to me, to know that I mean something to you, to know that I matter. It's all I ever wanted.

And then this from dream-Kpp’Ar:

It seems you’ve overcome the disadvantages of your upbringing.

That suggests that Viren is from a humble background, but managed to rise in society, befriend a prince, become High Mage ... But you don’t always leave your upbringing behind that easily (as people who escaped poverty but still rather eat moldy bread than throw it away can tell you).

So now my hot take: Perhaps the root for Viren’s motivations is always his deep-rooted insecurity that was caused by a childhood spent in poverty and now also causes him to dress nicely (which both Amaya and dream-Kpp’Arr comment on). He seeks validation, and all of his stated goals are just what he perceives as something that other people would approve of at the time:

While in Katolis he had a good life as High Mage. But things were rather quiet – too quiet –, and the hamster wheel of external validation kept spinning. So he sought power to stand out and get noticed, learning of powerful spells, looking for a way to end a famine ... or, later, for a way to slay the Dragon King.

This eventually led to war with Xadia, so then he stepped up to fight this battle. With the eyes of the whole Pentarchy on him, he took on the role of the altruistic leader who would sacrifice even himself or his family for the greater good.

That didn’t quite work out and in S4 he suddenly found himself all alone with his daughter (and her annoying boyfriend, but he doesn’t count). Claudia, for whom family is everything, became Viren’s only source of validation, and so he donned the cloak of the family man who never actually cared about power and politics and all that nonsense.

And here we are now, Viren lived several different lives, but – oversimplification incoming – in the end he just wanted to be loved because his childhood sucked. He doesn’t have a "true" motivation that is his own, but he just takes on the roles that he thinks the people around him will like.

(note that none of that was necessarily a conscious choice, and Viren might not even be aware of the contradictions. As said above, humans can also lie to themselves)

[longingfornostalgia]

As much as I'm a simp for Itachi Uchiha, I'm fully aware that I would have hated him if he was real.

If Itachi Uchiha were someone I knew in real life, he would be Barbie and I would be Raquelle.

If he were my classmate, I would absolutely HATE him.

I would absolutely despise him for being perfect. I would be so jealous of him because he would have everything that I want. I would see him as a guy with loving parents, good looks, a wealthy background, high social status, a good personality, great propriety, a good social life and someone who is admired by everyone. While I would just be a regular person with average grades, an emotionally absent father, mommy issues, iron deficiency, inferiority complex, unremarkable looks, permanent resting bitch face, no real friends, and someone that people tend to avoid or hate because of her hostile behaviour. Also, I'd be a middle-class girl who is unable to afford the clothes that fit her great fashion sense.

I would desperately try my best to outdo him and still fail. I can't outdo his amazing genetics so I would make an attempt at the sports that he plays, only to realize that my body isn't well nourished. I might even start being unnecessarily rude towards him if we happen to interact and he would've no idea why a classmate he barely knows holds such strong negative feelings towards him.

The only thing that gives me a chance at being better than him would be academics. I would study like crazy till the caffeine overdose puts me in the ER a week before an exam. I might even score more than him once and that would bring me great joy. I'd see it as a step towards my goal of being better than him and see that moment as an opportunity to rub it in his face. But while I'm silently celebrating my "victory", he would come up to me and congratulate me for it. That will be the moment when my happiness disappears, and I will truly understand where I stand. As I rudely turn away from him for the umpteenth time, I'll finally realize that I'll never be better than him.

He is perfect. Someone who has got it all, the perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect family and a perfect life. While I am just another one of his jealous ignoble haters, who is projecting her own problems onto him.

My report card graded more than A+ in all subjects will be shoved into a small pocket in my bag and will be forgotten then. And suddenly, the fruit of my hard work will no longer give me hope for a better life.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – One // Wanda Maximoff

story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter two

author’s note: here’s the long-awaited first chapter! i do hope you all enjoy!

Also a quick one – Y/B/N = your brother’s name, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/D/N = your dad’s name

"You move anymore and you're gonna hit a waiter."

I gave my brother a disapproving look as he grinned at my dismay. "Easy for you to say. You're wearing a suit and not a dress that's heavier than your body."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Y/N, you complain too much. Look where we are! You need to learn to enjoy yourself."

Taking a look around the room, I saw a hall filled with people I didn't know mingling with one another. Flutes of champagne were on almost every hand and laughter filled the air as everybody enjoyed their evening, soaking in the luxuries of a ball somebody I didn't know was hosting. Orchestral music was drowned out by conversations and servers moved through the hall like mice, scuttling around and constantly topping up champagne. I wasn't a fan, as usual.

"Are you both ready? Your father is bringing the Maximoffs here any second," my mother's voice grabbed my attention. "Y/N, at least try to look happy to be here." 

I forced a smile, making her give me a knowing look before looking to my brother and fixing his tie.

"You both know how important this is," she told us for the millionth time, fussing over my brother's appearance. "They're expecting–"

"Well-behaved, respectful individuals," I finished for her. "We know, mum. You've told us only a gazillion times."

She pressed her lips together, hands on her hips as her eyes fell to me, displeased. "If this engagement is to go as planned, I need you on your best behaviour."

"I'm always on my best behaviour," I reassured her. "But okay. I'll lighten up."

"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile, before glancing over her shoulder. "Okay. Here they come. Smiles, please."

My brother looked to me, showing me his teeth. "Is there anything in my teeth?"

I cracked a smile to make myself feel better. "Gums."

He gave me a disappointed look. "You know men don't like women who are smart arses." 

I rolled my eyes at his comment, knowing men didn't like women who didn't like men. But, of course, I didn't say that.

All her and my dad had been talking about for the past few weeks was this engagement. My brother, a very successful author, was to be engaged to his publisher's twin sister, some girl called Wanda. The Maximoffs were an esteemed family and their unification with ours was in everyone's best interests, especially my brother's who was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.

I didn't know much about the Maximoffs, only that their son and my brother's 'boss', if you will, Pietro, ran a successful publishing house. It had been in their family name since their parents emigrated to England from Sokovia when Pietro and Wanda were children. They'd built themselves up from nothing and were now high members of society, the perfect family to be involved with.

Y/B/N was to be engaged to Wanda, their daughter, since she was getting to that age where they wanted to find someone for her. My brother's name was put into the mix when Pietro recommended him and the rest was history.

Tonight was the first unofficial meeting with them and my mother had been nonstop lecturing me on the dos and don't's of how to act, as if I was a child that couldn’t behave. Of course, it was only a mere greeting. The true engagement was to be proposed tomorrow night, but that didn't matter to my fussy mother who was insistent on making a good impression.

I found myself straightening up and pressing my hands down my dress to rid it of creases as my brother adjusted his blazer. The Maximoffs were being led our way by my father, the four of them all with smiles on their lips and flutes of champagne in their hands.

"Dear, I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs Maximoff and their lovely children, Pietro and Wanda," my dad introduced, stopping before us, before looking to the Maximoffs. "This is my family. My wife, Y/M/N, and my children, Y/N and Y/B/N."

"Please, call me Oleg and my wife Iryna," the twins' father, Oleg, said with a kind smile. He held out his hand to my mother, adding, "It's a pleasure, Y/M/N."

They shook hands and then looked to my brother and I, exchanging quick greetings with us. As they were saying something to my brother, probably gushing over his writing as everyone did, I took a look at the quiet twins behind them.

I vaguely recognised the guy and his striking silver hair from my brother's work, knowing he was Pietro. But I'd never seen the girl before and knew immediately that if I had, I wouldn't forget her face. She was stunning, it didn't take a genius to see that. But not the stunning that you glanced once at and forgot about. No, she was the stunning that knocked the breath out of you and made you forget what your name was.

"...lovely to meet you again!" my brother was saying all the right things to impress his soon-to-be in-laws, but it went over me as I found myself unable to tear my gaze from this mystery woman.

Further introductions went on in the background, before the green eyes I was so enthralled with were looking my way, making me blink suddenly. I instantly looked away, afraid I'd been caught, and zoned back into the conversation that was taking place.

"It's great to finally put a name to a face," the girl, Wanda, was saying to my brother with a honey sweet smile and sultry Russian-accented voice, and judging by his expression, he was just as caught up in her beauty as I was. "I look forward to getting to know you more."

"And I you," he returned with his signature grin.

Her eyes fell to mine once again, lips curving into an amused smile. "And of course, Y/B/N's beautiful sister, Y/N. How lucky a man he must be to have a sister as stunning as you."

The others chuckled, clearly taken by Wanda's smooth way with words. In their eyes, it was flattery at its finest. After all, she was to be welcomed into our family and sucking up to the sister was the best way forward. But I guess, I'd like to believe that there was some truth to her words as her entrancing green eyes sparkled with delight.

"You don't need to win over my sister to get on my good side," Y/B/N joked before I could speak, stealing Wanda's attention away momentarily.

She suppressed a laugh, tilting her head as she studied him with an unreadable expression, before looking to me with curious eyes.

"Thank you for your kind words, Wanda," I finally said to her, offering a small smile.

"Anytime," she quipped, biting her lip to contain her smile.

It was oh so wrong of me to even slightly check her out as she did, knowing that it was not only inappropriate since she was to be my brother's bride, but also wrong since she was a girl and I wasn't supposed to do this. A heat crept up neck as I avoided her teasing gaze, wondering if she knew what she was doing or if she was just a naturally flirty person.

"I'm Pietro," her brother spoke, making me look up again. He was directing a charming smile my way as he continued, "It's an honour to finally meet my best author's younger sister."

I put out my hand for him to shake, but he simply grabbed it and pressed a gentle kiss to the top. I flushed at the contact, a nervous smile on my lips.

"Er, it's nice to meet you, too, Pietro," I returned, subtly wiping my hand when he let go of it.

The twins stood side by side, smiling our way, and I realised just why all the chatter in our social circles revolved around them. Charming, distinguished, good-looking – they were the whole package.

Our parents continued to talk, catching up and talking about stuff I didn't care much for. Every now and then, Y/B/N would chime in if a question was directed his way, or Pietro would add his two cents, or Wanda would say something funny, and I would pretend to get along with all of them when I so desperately wished to go home and go to sleep.

Admittedly, my eyes veered over to my soon-to-be sister-in-law every now and then, unable to look away. She was drop dead gorgeous, with bright hazel eyes that looked green like the earth at this moment, and long brown hair that was pulled back out of her face, revealing her charming smile. Sometimes, when she would smile really widely, a dimple would expose itself on her left cheek at the corner of her mouth, and I was sure that nothing else was cuter than that. Y/B/N was one lucky man.

"...would love for you all to come to our home tomorrow evening for dinner," my father was inviting them all over, bringing me back to reality. "It'll be a great way to get to know each other in a more intimate setting. And it'll give the kids a better chance to get to know each other."

Iryna smiled brightly. "We would love to, Y/D/N. Tomorrow evening is great."

"Perfect," my mum said excitedly. "We'll see you all then."

"Do enjoy the rest of your evening," Oleg said, looking to us all, before looking to my brother. "And Y/B/N, it was good to meet you tonight. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow."

"You, too, sir," Y/B/N said, shaking his hand with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Oleg and Iryna gave us all a smile before turning to leave. Pietro and Wanda did the same, though when Wanda's eyes flickered to mine, she waved her fingers slowly and with a playful smile on her lips. My mouth opened slightly, unsure what to do or say, but nobody seemed to notice as she turned and left, leaving me standing there with confusion.

"Well, I think that went well," my mum said, and I tore my gaze from Wanda's retreating form. "Couldn't have gone better actually."

"I agree," my dad said, wrapping an arm around my mum's waist with a smile. "Tomorrow night will be splendid." He looked to Y/B/N. "What did you think of Wanda, son?"

Y/B/N looked like he was on top of the world with his love struck smile and relaxed posture. "She's beautiful. And did you hear that accent? Wonderful."

My mother chuckled. "How sweet. You're already smitten."

"What did you think of her, Y/N?" my brother asked, and all eyes fell to me.

I straightened up. "Oh, I– er– she's very nice. A beautiful young woman."

"Right?" he said in agreement. "I feel like she really likes you, too. How cool is that? You guys can become friends and be, like, close sister-in-laws."

I forced a small smile. "Yeah. Something like that."

Of course, for everyone's benefit, getting along with Wanda Maximoff was the best bet. But something about her was different and I was yet to discover what.

—

The following evening was when we saw the Maximoffs next. As invited, they turned up at our front door dressed less glamorously than last night, given the occasion, but appearing just as excited. Our servants were quick to take their jackets and hang them up elsewhere as we exchanged greetings in the hall.

The Maximoff parents were genuinely kind and humbling people to be around, I'd come to learn that when they thanked our servants for their help and asked them how their day was, making friendly chatter. Not many people did that when entering our home – it was certainly refreshing to see. They greeted Y/B/N and I kindly before moving onto our parents.

The Maximoff children were just as kind, though with a hint of mischief in their stride as they moved to greet my brother and I. Pietro approached me first, lips pulling into a smile as he bowed playfully. In the corner of my eye, I could see Wanda and Y/B/N exchanging greetings.

"It's a pleasure to be in your presence yet again, Y/N," Pietro said generously. "You look lovely this evening."

A smile appeared on my lips at his kind eyes. "Thank you, Pietro. You look very handsome this evening also."

"Apparently it's lamb for dinner, is that true?" he asked, taking me by surprise. I wasn't sure if he was serious, but when his sister slapped him on the arm, I figured he was.

"Don't be greedy, Piet," she scolded him like this was a regular thing.

"What? It was a simple question," he said with a shrug, before looking to my brother with a grin. "Ah, Y/B/N Y/L/N, my favourite writer."

As he moved over to greet him, Wanda looked over to me with a knowing smile.

"It's good to see you again," she said softly, maintaining eye contact.

"You, too," I played along with whatever was happening, the usual script at a time like this. "I'm sure tonight will be something special for you and my brother. It's good to have you here."

She tilted her head intimidatingly. "Bol'shoye tebe spasibo."

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by her ability to change languages so smoothly. Though, it made sense since she was Sokovian, making Russian her first language. Didn't make it any easier to not be attracted to though.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. disguising my attraction with genuine confusion. "What does that mean?"

She smiled, a hint of smugness present as she answered, "Thank you very much. That's what it means."

I pressed my lips together, humming in response. She held my gaze for a second longer than usual and I wanted to look away, but I was drawn in by the beautiful golden flecks swirled into her irises, captivating and chilling all at once. She didn't seem uncomfortable with the eye contact, instead revelling in it with a content smirk when she saw me squirm. I ended up looking away first, unable to hold a pretty girl's gaze for more than a few seconds without panicking.

"I have something to show you!" my brother was saying excitedly to Pietro. "It's in my study, c'mon."

The two of them wandered off before my mum could stop them.

"Don't be too long, boys!" she called after them, before sighing and looking to Wanda and I. "Y/N, dear, why don't you show Wanda around upstairs, maybe? Hopefully the boys should be back after that and we can all eat dinner together."

I swallowed hard, glancing at a still-smirking Wanda, before looking back to my mum. "Erm, are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, go on, it'll give you ladies a chance to get to know each other better!" she insisted, before ushering me away. "Don't take too long though. Dinner will be ready soon."

Licking my lips nervously, I nodded, watching my mum return to the conversation my dad and Wanda's parents were having. They were led into the living room as Wanda and I were left standing in the hall, her waiting for me to say something.

"This way, I guess," I got out awkwardly, purposely avoiding her eyes as I motioned to the grand staircase.

"After you," she said politely, and I said nothing as I took the lead.

I ended up showing her around the upstairs rooms, including the library we had and the many guest rooms. It was a big home with lots to show for it, so the tour wasn't too boring.

Wanda stayed quiet throughout it, sometimes dropping in a comment or question every now and then, but otherwise listening intently as I explained everything as interestingly as I could. When she did speak, she would leave me fumbling for words or forgetting how to speak altogether. I wondered if she was teasing me on purpose, wanting to get a rise out of her soon-to-be sister-in-law, or if she just wasn't aware of what she was doing.

But every time her mischievous gaze fell to me with a matching smile, I knew that she had to be aware of her actions. Nobody was that teasing without wanting to be. So, that led me to my next question. Why?

Eventually, the last room on the tour was my bedroom. I stepped inside first, holding the door open for her as she followed after and looked around with amusement.

"This is your room," she stated, feet taking her further inside as she took in the appearance of my desk, my bed and my wardrobe. "Fascinating."

I was curious to know what she meant by that, but realising that this woman was an enigma in more ways than one, I knew she wouldn't give me a straight answer. So, I said nothing as I followed after her, remaining close as she soaked in my belongings.

Stopping at my desk, her eyes gazed over the papers spilling from closed notebooks, books marked with string and pens littered across the wood. Thankfully, nothing was open and she didn't seem to be the nosy type, so had no intention of going through anything.

"I see you like writing," she noticed, fingers hovering above the notebooks but not quite making a move to touch them. "Runs in the family, doesn't it?"

"I guess," I said, unsure what she wanted to hear.

She looked up at me, smile tugging at her lips. The same damned smile that had been directed at me since she got here.

"Do you write like your brother?"

I tried not to laugh. "More like he writes like me."

She watched me closely, amusement dancing in her eyes. "He's the author in the family."

I mirrored her smile, though mine was fake. "Published author, love. Doesn't make him the only one."

A chuckle flew from her lips as she looked across my messy desk again, clearly not offended by the hint of annoyance in my voice. I shouldn't have been so offended by her words – she didn't know anything about me – but it always ground my gears when people stuck up for Y/B/N like he was God's gift.

"Do you write?" I asked, half interested and half wanting to change the subject. The least I could do was try to get to know her a little better.

"I prefer painting," she answered without mischief. "It's my favourite thing to do."

Her eyes lit up at the mere mention of art, but she did a good job at reigning it in. She was still studying the books on my desk, distracting herself with the spines instead of facing me.

"And what do you like to paint?" I asked, genuinely interested now that I was beginning to see her actually fond of something that didn't involve making me flustered.

She shrugged, but I knew it was a pretence. "Scenery. Landscapes. We have a beautiful garden at home and it's a pleasure to paint." She finally met my eyes again, a smile of adoration on her lips as she continued talking about the garden. "The flowers, the trees, the little pond we have. It's the perfect subject."

The smile that appeared on my lips was automatic as her passion for her hobby was contagious. The way her whole face lit up, eyes bright with excitement and lips unable to do anything but smile, was intoxicating and I tried not to get lost in the moment. It was true though, what people said. Nobody looked more beautiful than when talking about something they loved.

"I’d love to see your work sometime," I told her earnestly.

Playfulness returning, she hummed in agreement. "Only if I can see yours."

I laughed, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe not."

"Well, that's a shame," she said, still playful, though when I looked up, I almost believed her.

She did that thing again, where she stared at me and held my gaze as if reading my innermost private thoughts. Intimidating wasn't the word, yet it was the only one in my mind as I watched her attempt to decipher me. Clearing my throat, I looked away, suddenly aware of how close she was stood.

"So, my brother," I changed the subject yet again, noticing the entertained expression she wore. "You like him?"

"We are to be engaged, are we not?" she asked with a quirked brow, like the answer was obvious.

I hid the smile from my lips. "That's not what I asked, love."

She licked her lips, pursing them as she saw what I was trying to do. My eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth as she did, and I almost forgot to look away until she started speaking again.

"My parents arranged this," she admitted, not losing composure. "Y/B/N is a gentleman and he seems like a kind man."

I noticed how she still avoided answering the question, but decided not to say anything about it. My eyes studied her curiously though, wondering why exactly she'd agreed to the marriage then. Maybe it was a sense of duty, like every woman had nowadays. Eventually my time would come too and maybe I would be stuck in the same position as her.

"I adore his writing though," she added, like she needed to say something genuine to make up for her lack of answer.

"You and every other woman in the city," I mumbled knowingly.

Wanda let out a breathy laugh. "I'm aware of his many admirers, yes, but can you blame them? He has such a fantastic way with words. And don't get me started on that first piece he ever wrote..." Her eyes rolled back with satisfaction. "It's my favourite. I had no idea who he was back then, but the words he wrote were enough to make me fall in love. I guess it's convenient that my new husband is to be your brother, the author."

I crossed my arms as I leaned against the desk, trying not to break out into laughter. Not because of Wanda's words – they were actually quite sweet – but because of the whole situation. It was hilarious to me, since I was the reason Y/B/N got his big break as a writer anyway.

Following in our father's footsteps, Y/B/N wrote manuscript after manuscript with hopes of getting published. But unfortunately, he never got anywhere with it. I was also a writer, having been taught by my father like Y/B/N when I was a young girl, but unlike him, I was told to stop when I got older because it was 'unladylike' and 'not a woman's place'. That didn't stop me however, and I continued to write like no tomorrow.

Y/B/N's big break, and the first manuscript of his that got published by Pietro – ironically the one that Wanda was discussing right now – was written by me. I gave it to my brother, hoping he could get inspiration. He ended up sending that in and getting signed because of my work. And even now, I occasionally helped him work on pieces that otherwise wouldn't see the light of day.

But nobody wanted to hear about the young, unmarried woman who writes about other women like they are God's best creation. So, Y/B/N keeps the fame and credit whilst I write in private, unable to share any of my work with the world unless it's in excerpts of my brother's books with his name on the front cover.

"That first piece was pretty good, wasn't it?" I played along with Wanda's words, a hint of bitterness in my tone of voice.

Wanda studied me up and down, teasing smile tugging at her lips. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya."

I hummed in acknowledgement, feigning a smile in response, though I wasn't sure what that last word meant. Probably another Russian term she was using to throw me off. Of course she'd assume I was jealous of my brother's recognition. She didn't know the truth and she never could. She was also to marry my brother, the perfect author, soon; my bitter state was merely a jealous sibling and maybe it was easier to let her think that way.

"Dinner should be ready now," I told her, straightening up. "Let's head down."

She followed after me and I said nothing else as I led her back downstairs, trying not to think about how much of an ego-boost this dinner would be for my brother.

There was nothing better than hearing everyone gush over the work your brother took credit for that you actually did, right?

"Ah, ladies, perfect timing!" said my mum when we reached the dining room where everyone was taking their seats. "Please, sit and we can get started. It's a lovely roast from the kitchen tonight."

As I made my way to my usual seat opposite my brother, I saw Pietro fist-pump the air at the mention of the lamb roast, making Wanda roll her eyes and me smile at his action. Y//B/N took his seat and Wanda's parents seemed to take the two chairs beside him already. My parents took to each end of the table, leaving the Maximoff twins no choice but to sit beside me. I sat at the same spot as usual, at the edge of the table so my left-handed self wouldn't bother whoever was sat beside me, and take a lucky guess to who sat on my right.

"Wanda, dear, how was your tour?" my mum asked her as she got comfortable beside me, leg and shoulder almost touching mine and making me both nervous and disgruntled.

With a grin wide enough to impress my mother, she answered, "It was great. You have a beautiful home, Mrs Y/L/N. And Y/N was a lovely host."

At that last comment, I felt her eyes glance towards me and I wondered if she was having fun making me squirm because I knew for sure that I was anything but a lovely host.

"That's reassuring to hear," my mother responded as the food was brought out and placed in the centre of the table. She seemed like she was joking, but I knew she was just glad I'd been on my best behaviour. "And please, call me Y/M/N."

Wanda nodded gratefully as my dad began to cut into the roast. Food was served up and drinks were poured as everybody began to dig in. The Maximoffs sent their compliments to the chef, admired our home and were the perfect guests, just as they were expected to be. My family complimented Wanda and Pietro's manners, talked about how business was going and laughed at every joke Oleg and Iryna uttered, just as they were expected to be. It really was a picture-perfect scene and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Okay, maybe I was acting a little cynical. The Maximoffs weren't that bad, at least not as bad I'd assumed they would be compared to my parents' other friends. They were down-to-Earth and humbled people, a welcoming change from the usual. I just hated forced dinners and being scrutinised under my mother's eyes to behave, hence the clipped attitude.

And just on cue, the topic steered towards something lovely.

"We can't forget to talk about Y/B/N, bestselling author over here!" Oleg beamed, motioning to my brother. "I have to admit, son, I'm amazed at your writing. You clearly have your father's talent."

My brother smiled bashfully as I watched on with narrowed eyes and a tight grip on my fork.

"You flatter me," he said, but Iryna shook her head.

"I have to agree with my husband here, Y/B/N," she said. "Your writing is superb. Pietro, obviously, loves it, and Wanda is a huge fan, too."

At this, my brother glanced towards Wanda with excited eyes and she merely smiled and looked elsewhere, either embarrassed to be mentioned or playing coy. Rolling my eyes came naturally at this point.

"Tell me, how did you think of what to write for that first book?" Iryna asked with intrigue. "It was my favourite one."

Ah, yes, the first book. Apparently everyone's favourite one.

"Oh, it's best not to bring all that up–"

"I'd actually like to know, too," Wanda cut him off, her curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned forward onto the palm of her hand and watched him under long eyelashes.

I couldn't keep the smile of delight from my face as I too leaned forward curiously, eyeing my brother. "Yes, dear, brother. Please, do tell us of how you came to write such an honest, heartfelt first book."

At this, I felt both my parents send me a warning look as they knew the truth. But neither of the Maximoffs noticed as their attention was solely on my brother.

Luckily for him, he was a great liar and he smiled his charming smile and nodded, looking between the four guests.

"I guess it started after my third failed manuscript," he began, very believably. "I realised that there was something missing from my pages. Something real and genuine. Something that would appeal to my readers and make them question just how much they were appreciating their partner, you know?"

As he rambled off into another literary spout of nonsense, my smile faded and I gritted my teeth, wondering how he'd gotten so good at lying without giving away a sliver of pretence. The Maximoffs were hanging onto his every word, fascinated by the mind of a writer. I tried not to let it get to me as he butchered the meaning behind everything I had written in that first novel. Some things were better left unsaid.

When he finished, questions were fired his way and my parents watched on with pride in their eyes, as he answered them with ease. I chose to stay quiet, as usual, letting him soak in the credit for something he didn't do.

"And what do you think, Y/N?" Wanda's voice included me in the conversation, and everybody's eyes fell to me. I was only looking at her as her lips were pulled into a wide, suggestive smile and she continued, "How is it being the sister of one of today's bestselling authors?"

The usual forced smile that accompanied my lips whenever talking about Y/B/N because present, but my eyes were questioning Wanda's as she was clearly trying to get a rise out of me yet again, especially now that she assumed I was jealous of her husband-to-be's fame. Her stupid beautiful smile and stupid pretty eyes and stupid attractive accent were all taunting me.

"It makes me proud to know that he's come so far from when we were younger," I said, and though I was irritated by the way it had happened, my words weren't entirely false. "He's a talented man and he clearly has a way with words. What more is there to say?"

The elders seemed touched by my words and when I looked over the table to meet my brother's gaze, I saw the gratitude in his expression, hiding behind his smile and reserved for me. I nodded subtly, letting him know I was happy to keep his secret as long as he wished, just like we'd agreed.

Chatter and compliments soon turned to the real reason for our presence – the engagement. I tucked into my dessert as I let them talk about dates for the engagement party, logistics for guests and all the other details I could care less about. Only when my brother mentioned my name did I look up, surprised to see all eyes on me yet again.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked politely, glancing around.

"Y/N, honey, lay off the chocolate cake, will you?" my mum said with a smile that I knew was code for 'put the bloody fork down'.

I forced a smile of my own as I lowered my fork and sat up straight, very ladylike, and looked to my brother.

"I was saying how I'll be sure to pick a beautiful engagement ring for Wanda here," he no-doubt repeated for my sake. "And maybe you could help me choose, to make sure it's something she may like."

A genuine sarcastic smile broke out on my lips, though not because I was interested in ring shopping with my brother. I knew absolutely nothing about dear Wanda or her taste in jewellery, but a woman was to do what she was best at – shopping! So, without sharing my true thoughts on the situation, I nodded respectfully and hummed in agreement.

"Of course," I said what everybody wanted to hear. "I'm sure we can find something to suit Wanda's taste."

Everybody resumed chatter about the wedding as I sighed quietly and got back to my cake. My right hand rested by my side and I jumped, startled when I made contact with Wanda's fingers.

"Sorry," I apologised, moving my hand a little from hers but keeping it there. "Left-handed an' all. I tend to forget."

Green eyes pierced through me with a matching sly smile. "No problem, milaya."

Again with the 'milaya' talk – what did that even mean? I returned the awkward smile as I continued eating, but I didn't fail to notice the way her hand would brush against mine throughout the rest of the meal.

Either by accident or on purpose, I'd never know, but I had my suspicions.

[ibijau]

Jin Rusong Lives pt 14 / On AO3

today was suspiciously quiet at work, so I managed to finish this chapter, and the epilogue which I’ll post tomorrow /o/

“You’re bad and you killed mommy and daddy,” Jin Rusong shouted, causing Nie Huaisang to freeze on the spot, breathless from horror.

He had known that the secret couldn’t be kept for ever, but Nie Huaisang had hoped that he would get a chance to explain this to Jin Rusong with all the gentleness he could muster. Judging by the terror on the child’s face, there must have been little gentleness when the Qins had revealed the truth to him, and they might have purposefully made a traumatic experience worse, just so Jin Rusong would be more cooperative.

Just behind Nie Huaisang, Jin Rulan was less heartbroken by the fact that Jin Rusong had found out the truth about his parents’ death, and more annoyed that the Qin sect wasn’t even trying to hide that they had the child with them. He walked up to Qin Cangye, a man who could easily have been his grand-father, and started scolding him for kidnapping his little cousin in such a manner.

“Rusong is my grandson,” Qin Cangye cut him, “and that gives me more right over him than a mere cousin, and far more so when that cousin sends him to live with a liar and a murderer.”

Jin Rulan must have protested something, which in turn forced Qin Cangye to continue arguing and start threatening to have them thrown out, so Jin Rulan made a few threats of his own. In some distant way, Nie Huaisang was aware that he should have intervened, but he could think of nothing except the terrified anger on Jin Rusong’s young face. 

It really had been a mistake to let Jiang Cheng trust that child in his care. How could it ever have gone any other way than this?

In spite of Jin Rulan’s protests, they were forced to leave the Qin sect’s home, which closed its doors to their faces and immediately put up every protection it had against intruders. Jin Rulan was ever more furious at Qin Cangye for his behaviour, and since his anger needed a target, he started scolding Nie Huaisang for not helping him.

“Maybe you really are useless after all,” he grumbled. “You were so scary back in the Unclean Realm, but now you’re just going to let Qin zongzhu get away with this?”

“What do you want me to say? He does have a better claim to Rusong than either of us.”

“But he’s not really his grandfather! And you said the rest of Qin zongzhu’s family might try to hurt A-Song! What, A-Song is angry at you, so suddenly you don’t care enough to protect him anymore?”

The remark had Nie Huaisang glaring at Jin Rulan.

“His safety is my priority!” he snapped. “He has every right to hate me, and it doesn’t change the fact I care about him.”

“Good. Then think of something to get him out of here,” Jin Rulan ordered. “Isn’t that what you’re good at? Scheming and making plans?”

Part of Nie Huaisang wanted to reply that his last bit of scheming had taken him a decade to prepare, and had nearly failed a few times. He refrained from making such a comment though, because they were still right at the door of the Qin Sect’s home, and only a fool would have admitted to being powerless within earshot of his enemies.

Besides, this time Nie Huaisang had two things he’d lacked last time: a reputation, and allies.

-

Jin Rulan and Nie Huaisang ended up taking rooms at an inn of Laoling, where both of them tried to rest as well as they could. Late that night, as they were discussing different plans over dinner, they were joined by Jiang Cheng and some of his disciples. Without waiting to be invited, Jiang Cheng sat with them and sent one of his disciples to order more food and wine.

“I can’t believe you’re not even capable of looking after a child,” Jiang Cheng then told Nie Huaisang.

“I can’t believe you didn’t do a background check on Jin Yixin,” Nie Huaisang retorted. “And that you didn’t consult Qin zongzhu at all about his own grandson.”

“I can’t stand the man,” Jiang Cheng said. “Pompous, self-important prick who always thinks he’s right. He’d have demanded to have the child, but Jin Rusong hardly knows him and he’d been crying for you the whole time. I made the most logical choice.”

“So instead, you left him no choice but to kidnap his grandson,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Or he could have just contacted any of us,” Jin Rulan pointed out. “He didn’t have to jump straight away to kidnapping.”

“Entitled asshole,” Jiang Cheng agreed. “And his sons are even worse. The only decent person in that family was Qin Su, and that says more about her temper than her education. We’re getting that kid back.”

It would be best for Jin Rusong to be away from his grandfather, Nie Huaisang thought as he drank some wine. But he doubted that was the only thing at play there. He suspected that for Jiang Cheng and Qin Cangye both, this affair was about more than Jin Ruson’s wellbeing. After all, Lanling Jin was still fragile, Jin Rulan’s grasp on his own sect was shaky at best. If old allies were to turn against him, it might end badly for the Jin sect. Laoling Qin wasn’t the largest of sects, but its sphere of influence would increase instantly if Lanling Jin were to disintegrate due to internal conflicts, and more so if Qin Cangye could be the one to have provoked that fall. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng of course wanted to protect his nephew’s situation, even if he probably had little love for the rest of Lanling Jin, so he had to get involved and prevent any sort of attack against that sect.

It annoyed Nie Huaisang to be forcibly brought into that sort of petty disputes when Qinghe Nie had finally reached a certain balance in that regard, when he’d tried to make it clear after the death of Jin Guangyao that he wouldn’t involve himself in such things again. It annoyed him even more to see Jin Rusong be used as a pawn when the poor child had already suffered so much.

If the only way to protect Jin Rusong was to get involved in politics, then so be it. Nie Huaisang would do what it took.

-

There was something quite enjoyable about being on the right side of things when Jiang Cheng got angry, Nie Huaisang decided as he watched the door of the Qin sect open for them. The way Jiang Cheng refused to take no for an answer and forced others to bend to his will… some might have called him a bully, and he probably was one, but Nie Huaisang was also reminded of his brother, who cared more about doing the right thing than coddling people’s pride.

The resemblance was only superficial of course, because while Nie Mingjue had just acted as his nature pushed him to do, Nie Huaisang knew Jiang Cheng enough to guess he was just pretending not to notice others’ wounded egos. If he hadn’t known who he could offend without risk, Jiang Cheng and his once fragile sect would long ago have become Jin Guangyao’s next target. It would be interesting to see what Jiang Cheng might do, now that he too was free from that threat.

For now, what Jiang Cheng did was to demand and obtain a meeting with Qin Cangye to discuss the future of Jin Rusong. Qin Cangye wasn’t happy to deal with so much interference when he insisted that it was only his right to be raising his own grandson, but Nie Huaisang noticed that his two oldest sons appeared more conflicted about Jiang Cheng’s intervention. It wasn’t to their advantage to keep around a child that threatened their own children’s inheritance, but they had too much pride to want some other sects to order them around. Nie Huaisang couldn’t quite blame them for that, but placing oneself between Jiang Cheng and something he’d decided he wanted was about as likely as hoping to stop a charging bull. Some people might manage it, but it took far greater skill than anyone within the Qin sect had ever shown.

So for most of the day, an intense conversation went on which only barely didn’t explode into an actual argument because Qin Cangye had manners, at least when he wasn’t kidnapping children. Those manners sadly turned against him when Jiang Cheng bullied the man into hosting all three of them for the night if he didn’t want the entire cultivation world to know that Qin Cangye treated his guests with less courtesy than a mere peasant would have shown. At that point Nie Huaisang nearly objected that he wasn’t particularly interested in spending the night in this place, but eventually kept silent to avoid undermining Jiang Cheng.

It really was impressive how that man always got his way. Someday, if they ever reconciled, Nie Huaisang would have to ask Wei Wuxian how he managed to ignore Jiang Cheng’s demands.

For now, after a reluctantly offered dinner that Nie Huaisang only nibbled at to satisfy both Qin Cangye and Jiang Cheng’s egos, they were led to bedrooms where Nie Huaisang quickly realised he wouldn’t manage to sleep. If he struggled to sleep at home, it was far worse away from it, and near impossible when in the house of enemies. Whenever he had to spend the night in Jinlin Tai during Jin Guangyao’s reign, Nie Huaisang usually either wandered in the gardens or made a nuisance of himself to pass the time. Here the second option wasn’t to be considered at the moment. The first, while unwise, could be managed. Nie Huaisang’s carefully crafted bad reputation still allowed him to get away with odd behaviour, while his rank meant that any Qin disciple finding him walking around at night should remember to ask questions before attacking.

Loaling Qin did not have gardens nearly as splendid as Lanling Jin did, but Nie Huaisang wasn’t in a mood to be picky and still enjoyed walking there for a bit. He even found it almost amusing to avoid patrolling disciples, being reminded of easier days in his youth, in the Cloud Recesses. Unlike Wei Wuxian, he’d never been caught by Lan Wangji or anyone else. Then, once the garden had lost what appeal it had, Nie Huaisang walked back toward the main courtyard, thinking it might be interesting to study how it had been decorated and see if he could borrow some ideas. The style of architecture were quite different, but Nie Huaisang liked how certain things had been arranged. It was almost as practical as in his own home, but with a veneer of refinement he hadn’t yet despaired of imposing on the Unclean Realm.

Nie Huaisang hadn’t been in that courtyard for very long when he sensed another person nearby, watching him. He took a second to ground himself and turned to watch the newcomer, ready to play a comedy of some sort to excuse his presence in that place at such a late hour.

Instead, he saw Jin Rusong, watching him with a conflicted expression.

Staring back, Nie Huaisang found himself at a loss for words. Qin Cangye had been careful to keep his grandson away from his unwanted visitor, and Nie Huaisang hadn’t expected to see the child again until his fate had been decided by them, which he thought would take several days. Part of him had expected he might never see Jin Rusong again at all, in fact. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Qin Cangye only agreed to let others raise the little boy if he was promised that Nie Huaisang, the man who had caused his daughter to die, never approached her child again. A price Nie Huaisang would pay, if it was the only way to ensure Jin Rusong could grow somewhere safe.

“I can’t sleep,” Jin Rusong announced after a while.

Nie Huaisang nodded. Without thinking he sat on a nearby bench and opened his arms, silently offering to hug Jin Rusong, the way he would have done just days earlier. But too much had changed in those few days. Jin Rusong’s expression became concerned and Nie Huaisang awkwardly dropped his arms to his side.

“Should we go get someone to take you back to your room?” Nie Huaisang asked, vainly trying to smile. “It is very late for little boys to be up.”

“I don’t like my room. I don’t like sleeping alone, but Jin Yixin says I’m too old to sleep with her, and I can’t sleep with grandpa, and I don’t know anyone else here.”

It had taken so long for Jin Rusong to stop climbing into Nie Huaisang or Lan Xichen’s bed every night, for him to feel comfortable enough to sleep alone. It upset Nie Huaisang to see all that progress lost.

“Then what can I do to help you, SongSong?”

The little boy hesitated, tilting his head to the side. Jin Rusong took a step forward, then stopped for a moment before hesitantly walking closer to Nie Huaisang. He stopped for good just out of reach, and stared at his uncle with determination.

“Did you really do all those bad things?”

Nie Huaisang hesitated and lowered his eyes. He’d never so desperately wanted to lie before, nor been so aware that lying would be the worst thing he could do.

“I don’t know what your grandfather told you, so I can’t say that everything he told you was true,” he explained. “But yes, I’ve done many bad things in my life. For some of them, I still think I was right. For others, I was just angry and wanted to hurt people because someone had hurt me. You know what it’s like to be angry like that, right? So angry it feels like you will explode if you don’t do something.”

Jin Rusong slowly nodded.

“But my Songsong is a good boy,” Nie Huaisang continued with a weak smile. “Even when you’re so angry, you don’t hurt people. You cry and maybe shout a bit, but you’re very good and you’re always careful with others. And even when if you were to hurt someone, I know you would apologise after. Uncle Nie isn’t nearly as good, and so I’ve done many bad things.”

“You killed mommy.”

Nie Huaisang closed his eyes, but that just meant he could see the cold rage on Qin Su’s face, her blood spraying from her neck when she sliced it. He already hadn’t been happy with that when it had happened because she could have testified against her husband, but now, knowing that he’d done this not just to Qin Su but to Jin Rusong as well…

He reopened his eyes but, unable to meet Jin Rusong’s gaze, stared at the ground instead.

“Your mother died because I just wanted to hurt as many people as I could,” he said, “and didn’t think how upset she would get. For this, I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have put her in a position like that. Your mommy was a very good person, and she didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“And daddy?”

Nie Huaisang fell silent for a moment. No matter the love he felt for Jin Rusong, the idea of having to apologize for arranging the death of Jin Guangyao made him furious. This he did not feel sorry for, this he refused to ever regret. They could all hate him for it, Lan Xichen and Jin Rusong and all the others could turn against him and demand his blood if they pleased, but it had only been right that Jin Guangyao should die and nothing would change his mind.

It took some effort for Nie Huaisang to calm down after the moment of red hot rage that spiked through him, but he managed.

“We’ve told you before that your daddy did some bad things too,” he said, his voice colder now, even when he desperately didn’t want to upset Jin Rusong. “One of those bad things is that he killed my brother, who I loved very, very much, and he did it in a manner that was very cruel. He hurt my brother a lot before killing him, and when I realised that, I decided to do the same to him. It’s what people call revenge: someone hurt you, so you decide to hurt them.”

“Grandfather says that I’ll want revenge on you someday,” Jin Rusong whispered. “Does it mean I have to hurt you too?”

“If you want to. I wouldn’t stop you.”

Jin Rusong cried out in horror, and started crying.

“I don’t want to hurt uncle Nie! I don’t want to do revenge! I don’t want, I don’t want!”

Upset to see him crying, Nie Huaisang instinctively reached out toward Jin Rusong to comfort him, but the little boy shook his head and stepped away.

“Hm. SongSong is a good boy like that," Nie Huaisang wistfully whispered instead, almost remembering what it was like to feel like that. There had been a time when he would have thought himself incapable of hatred. Even Wen Ruohan he had never despised the way he eventually did Jin Guangyao. "But maybe it will change as you grow, especially if you stay here with your grandfather. Is that something you want? To stay here?”

“I don’t know!” Jin Rusong sobbed. “Grandfather is nice, but I miss my friends from the Unclean Realm. Here, the other children don’t want to play with me. I also miss you, and uncle Lan. I wish I could be with grandfather and you and uncle Lan, and also with LingLing. Is it spoiled to want that?”

“SongSong isn’t spoiled, but he wants difficult things,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “Your grandfather and I… I don’t think we can ever get along. But maybe you could go live with Uncle Lan, and then it’d be easier for everyone who loves you to come visit you.”

It really would be the best solution at that point. Qin Cangye had argued against it when it was mentioned that afternoon, but he had a pretty decent relationship with Lan Qiren, whose father he’d known well, so that might play in their favour. Gusu was near enough Lanling that Jin Rulan could visit his cousin more easily than in Qinghe. It would be a more neutral place for Jin Rusong to live, until he was old enough to decide for himself. And Lan Xichen, who sadly couldn’t stay forever in the Unclean Realm, would benefit from having the little boy around as he resumed his function as sect leader and continued to recover.

If Qin Cangye could only be convinced, it would satisfy everyone.

“I don’t want to go live in a new place again,” Jin Rusong sniffled. “I don’t want, it’s scary.”

“I know it’s scary,” Nie Huaisang replied, this time resisting the impulse to reach out. “You know, one time when I was older than you, but still not very old, I also had to go live for a time in the place where uncle Lan lives. And I cried about it a lot, too. I was a much bigger boy than you, but I was very scared and I begged my brother to let me stay with him. I thought I was going to die if I had to be in a place I didn’t know, with new people. It made me so afraid I felt very sick, so I understand how you feel.”

“Were you forced to go?” Jin Rusong asked, blinking away his tears. 

“My brother thought it was good for me, so I had to go. And even though I was so very scared, in the end it wasn’t so bad. I made many friends in that new place, like uncle Lan, or uncle Jiang. And even LingLing’s daddy was there, and we all had great fun. Sometimes, we are scared of things that are actually very good, that’s why it’s important to be brave.”

Jin Rusong shook his head, and started crying once more. 

“I don’t want to be brave. I want my mommy.”

“I know, SongSong. I can’t bring back your mommy. I wish I could. I think she would be so happy to see that you’re not sick anymore.”

“I want my mommy.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I want daddy, too.”

To this, Nie Huaisang had nothing to say that wouldn’t be cruel or a lie.

“I want mommy and daddy, and I want a hug, and I don’t like being brave.”

“I can’t help with the rest,” Nie Huaisang said. “But I can give you a hug, if you still want one from me.”

Jin Rusong hesitated, frowning through his tears, but in the end he nodded and ran onto Nie Huaisang’s lap before he really had time to open his arms. The sobbing child pressed his face against Nie Huaisang’s chest, holding his neck uncomfortably tight and getting tears and snot everywhere. Nie Huaisang held him back with all the gentleness he was still capable of, petting and kissing the little boy’s hair to calm him.

They’d all asked so much of that poor child, Nie Huaisang thought as he rocked him slowly, the way he remembered his brother doing for him so long ago. It made him angry at Wei Wuxian for playing with things he didn’t understand and bringing back Jin Rusong among the living, without ever pausing to wonder what impact it would have on a child so young who had lost everything while he slept. But that particular anger didn’t last. It never did, when he could hold that little boy he loved so much, who was so brave even when he didn’t want to be.

It was easier, then, for Nie Huaisang to allow himself to hate Jin Guangyao with renewed strength. Even if he hadn’t been a monstrous father killing his own son to hide the result of incest, he had still put everyone who loved the child through the agony of thinking they had lost him. He could have said that Jin Rusong was sick, he could have said his son needed to be treated for that illness, that Jin Rusong would need to be in stasis until the cure was found, but instead he’d just forced them all to suffer, and used their pain to push his political agenda.

It was easy to hate Jin Guangyao for the situation they were in.

Nie Huaisang wondered if Jin Rusong would one day find it just as easy to hate him for what he’d done.

But for now, the little boy seemed to carry little hate and resentment. After being held and rocked tenderly for a long while, Jin Rusong fell asleep in Nie Huaisang’s arms, showing the same blind trust he’d had before knowing that his uncle Nie had murdered his parents. And Nie Huaisang, knowing he should have looked for someone to take the little boy back to his bed, just sat there and basked in that undeserved trust. 

Just a little longer, he told himself, gently smoothing the child’s hair. Just a few more moments of pretending that this could be salvaged, that he wouldn’t lose the closest thing to a son he was ever likely to have. Just a little longer.

A little longer turned into most of the night without Nie Huaisang really noticing. At some point he had removed his outer robe to wrap it around Jin Rusong, so he would stay warm and safe even if the night was fairly mild. It wasn’t until dawn started colouring the sky that Nie Huaisang truly realised just how long he’d been sitting there on that bench, holding a child he’d made an orphan. He was starting to accept that he really needed to return the little boy to someone from the Qin sect when Qin Cangye ran into that courtyard, looking half panicked until he spotted Nie Huaisang and his grandson.

An array of emotion flashed across Qin Cangye’s face, from surprise to fear, eventually settling for anger. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep speaking, but Nie Huaisang was struck by the certainty that Qin Cangye truly cared about Jin Rusong, that he wasn’t arguing to have him just for the sake of politics or revenge, but because he still thought of the little boy as his grandson, no matter what others might say about his wife and daughter. He, too, had loved that child, and he too had mourned him when Jin Guangyao deceived them all.

Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure he’d ever like Qin Cangye, but he might at least respect him, which didn’t come to him easily these days.

“He was wandering last night, saying he couldn’t sleep,” Nie Huaisang explained, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Jin Rusong. “I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“We just realised now that he was gone,” Qin Cangye said dryly, but his eyes softened when he gazed at his grandson. “He hasn’t been sleeping well so far. I suppose I should be glad he managed with you.”

“I’m not sure I can take much credit. He asked me about his parents, and… well, a few tears were spilled. Many tears. I think he was just exhausted.”

“What did you tell him about his parents?”

“Nothing more than what I thought he could understand. I wish I hadn’t arranged for this story about your wife and Jin Guangshan to be revealed. It’s going to make things harder for him in the future.”

“And that’s a great concern of yours, his future, " Qin Cangye scoffed. 

“It is," Nie Huaisang replied, his eyes falling to the child sleeping in his arms. "I care about him. I know you don’t believe me, but I care about him.”

“Then let me have him. I’m his family, I’m his grandfather. Let me have him. He belongs here.”

“I think you mean that," Nie Huaisang condeded, blaming this sudden sentimentality on the lack of sleep. "If it were only you and him, I’d let you and Jin Rulan come up with something together. But you know he’s hardly safer here than in Jinlin Tai. If something were to happen to you, do you think your children would hesitate to use his parentage to get rid of him and ensure he cannot inherit anything?”

“I’ll take measures so he’s protected even after my death,” Qin Cangye retorted, and Nie Huaisang thought maybe he could like that man after all, just because he was realistic enough to not say some boring lie about his family being actually very kind and united. “I won’t let him go back with you without a fight, Nie zongzhu.”

“And I won’t leave him somewhere he might be in danger. I want Rusong to be happy, Qin zongzhu, and I want him to be safe.”

“Then we have at least one thing in common,” Qin Cangye said with a disgusted expression, as if it were the worst thing in the world to share anything with a man like Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang smiled in spite of himself and carefully stood up, mindful not to wake the child in his arms. Jin Rusong, always a light sleeper, protested upon being handed to his grandfather, but quickly fell back to sleep.

Nie Huaisang loved that child so much, and hoped it would be enough to make up for everything he’d made him suffer through.

It probably wouldn’t be but… but Nie Huaisang wanted to try. He wanted to be part of Jin Rusong’s life, until the day the boy himself decided that he’d put up with his parents’ murderer too long already.

Nie Huaisang wanted Jin Rusong in his life just as fiercely as he wanted Lan Xichen in it, and he was ready to make the efforts necessary to keep both of them.

Qin Cangye could be a reasonable man, at the end of the day, and surely they’d figure out a way to handle this, if they all tried their best.

[sly-merlin]

S A C R I F I C E

SACRIFICE - A STORY OF LOVE, BETRAYAL, REVENGE AND BARGAINING

CHARACTERS : prince jaehyun x princess y/n

GENRE : fluff, angst.

WORD COUNT : 7k

TIME PERIOD : OF SHY GLANCES AND BLOOD BATHS. WHERE LOVE IS FORBIDDEN AND HATRED NOT.

WARNINGS : Includes dirt play, revenge. Major character deaths like MAJOR, mentions of blood, murder, killing, assassination and an explicit scene of killing.  Cw : food mentions  SMUT WARNING : kissing! mentions of undressing.

DISCLAIMER : THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. FICTION. FICTION. NO DESCRIPTION REPRESENTS OR GIVE ANY HINTS TO JAEHYUN'S REAL LIFE CHARACTER. 

a/n : part of heartbreakhotel monthly event by precious network @nct-writers

SUMMARY : heart in one hand, a blade in another. Which one goes down under the weight of other? Who is brave enough to sacrifice the other?

The shimmering, colourful, geometrical patterns of the bronze kaleidoscope motivated your heels to exultant jumps, simply sending tingles to your friend's mind who quietly stood beside you wondering what new pattern had caught your eye this time. She was equally excited yet waited for you to be absolutely gratified. After all, a pattern viewed once could never be seen twice or remembered long enough to be claimed to have hit our eyes.

The light hues of the unreachable sun coloured the small market in its natural glow making terrible winter evening walks a little more bearable .You loved it. You loved the scenery, all the more so because it was deemed to be yours. Every corner of this small kingdom had your father's crown engraved on it yet you weren't permitted to move around in a place you dared to call your own. Hence the poorly patched long cotton skirt and lazily stitched full sleeved shirt covered you like you were a fugitive in disguise or maybe belonged to some impoverished village. Same was the case with your pretty friend who, once averse to your youthful shenanigans, found the silver jewellery most fascinating in the whole market and not to omit the street food that turned the palace food to be flavourless.

 You had never been very keen on lying to your parents, popularly called the rulers of the kingdom and your poor attendants who thought you were busy with your evening naps that you had suddenly taken upon a liking towards since the past month. But it was a necessity for you. Roaming in the same humongous rooms no more satiated your travelling mind. You wanted to be out, to be free, to just breach all the restrictions you were placed under as a princess to satisfy the hollow rules. As much as your morals and conscience despised hiding truth, this little game you played harmed no soul. Your safety was their priority and you were safe and secure as long as you didn’t leave her side. And this excuse inadvertently spiralled you in this endless circle of hide and seek taking control over your better judgement, throwing the need to pause this rendezvous in the background. What once done out of curiosity and to experience the fanatic lives of your subjects, was now a sine qua non. From patiently performing and learning new tasks suiting your position to skillfully diverting your maids, you indeed had all the prerequisites to be the best queen of your future kingdom. Even though the praise of achievement always resided only in your head, you found yourself to be impressively regal.

"Let me have a look too, y/n" zara, your dear friend pleaded not so politely.

Reluctantly removing the device from your eyes, you pushed it onto her hands, backing away slightly, allowing her in the space.

"Why don't you go and look at some silver jewellery instead?" Huffing, you suggested to lure her.

“The new ones arrive next monday!” Not paying heed to your tender, she kept smiling, enthralled by the beauty captured between the pieces of mirrors.

You nudged her playfully, the action meant to drive her to the end of her patience but she dogged your efforts with continuous giggles. Relentless you were too and she was always reminded of that in a hard way. What your elbow failed to do, your fingers completed. As soon as your fingers in her ears, she bitterly pulled herself away to face you.

“This is unfair y/n. This hour of freedom is not for your pleasure only” puckering her lips, she said while her eyes squinted at you. 

Suddenly, her forehead was smeared with thoughtful lines, “y/n! It’s been twenty minutes already. Where is your lover?” surprise rained over her whole face, “Do you think he got caught?”

You were almost ready to refute her former statement that he certainly wasn’t your lover yet but her latter question of suspicion appalled you and there was no need for her to ask you any further as she noticed your face shrinking, distorting your pretty lips into a worrisome pout. She immediately left the metal device, focusing on you.

“hey! I am not serious. I was just trying to distract you” as she cupped your face, a pout of her own greeted you.

Her words were not reassuring at all. There was no unlikelihood of what she said. Jaehyun was, without any doubt, illustrious in the fouled game you both played but neither his family resided here nor was he allowed to enter the premises of your kingdom. The said man was corrupted by his youthful glow that granted him enough courage of frisking around the walls of the forbidden territory.

Inhaling sharply, you uncloaked your worry,

“do you think he real-

“no no absolutely not love. He’s too clever for that and he’s been doing since months, way longer than me and you! Let’s wait for a few more minutes.” Cupping your chin, she jested and cooed, “Also won't he perish without seeing your beautiful face. He would be here any minute!”

 Just when you responded to her with a grim nod, a well acquainted shoulder bumped into you, mitigating your distress with a familiar touch. eyes closed in relief, you looked at zara for approval which was given right away with a playful wink.

Giggling like a little child, you skipped to the back of the market where jaehyun waited for you every evening. Hiding your face in the silk grey scarf, you sneaked away avoiding everyone’s sight and waiting for your arrival, Jaehyun stood there with the lower half of his face concealed with a black cotton headcover. 

As soon as he saw you, the hand glueing the cloth to his face fell down and his face lit up with a smile worthy of putting stars to shame if compared. The wrinkles on his face and the dips in the cheeks had you wanting to hide in those spaces, away from everyone who had heralded this union to be forbidden.

 There you stood, staring into his dark eyes like he wasn't someone you were supposed to keep a good distance from. 

But the light in his eyes diminished on seeing your excited face.

"You did that again! Why don’t you follow anything I say to you? At least, look back and confirm my presence. What if someone had followed me?” deeply whispering, he frowned at you.

And fondly, you smiled at him, something that he never found fascinating but it still left him flustered.

"Don't smile at me like that. I won't melt this ti-

"I apologise?"

You blurted out taking him by surprise. His mouth opened and closed several times, body slightly rocking in confusion. Finally, he spoke, 

"I didn't mean it like that." His voice softened, "i just can't - 

Cleaning his muddy hands on his pajamas, he placed them on your cheeks, engulfing your whole face with his long fingers.

"I just can't see you in danger. If any of my uncle’s spies came wandering and recognised you at this hour, they'd not hesitate to slit your throat y/n" the way his face contorted as he recited the known truth,  it was evident how just the mention of it was painful to him. "Don't follow unless you see my face. I know there's no one harming you in your own country but you never know when odds might defeat you" 

"Do you-

You began but his questioning eyes stopped you. His eyes talked only in worry and love. Both for you. But even if you were content with what he showered you with, greed for little more was something you never deemed unnecessary.

"I what?" 

You wanted to continue but the perpetual worry planted on his face disturbed you as well.

"Jaehyun-'' your fingers brushed away the strand of hair on his face, “I mean don’t you find it tedious? Giving me the same instructions every other day, wasting the ten minutes of the limited time we get.”

He left your face and focused on cleaning the remaining dirt from his hand. To avoid suspicions and blend into the environment, he always covered his hands in mud, giving an impression of a forlorn daily worker. Nobody questioned a person who looked homeless and unhappy, even if he meandered near the barbed wires.

“I got in trouble.”

You hadn’t even sat down on the bench and he was already bombarding you apprehensions.

“how?” inaudibly, you asked.

He broke his eyes away before responding,

“they saw me leaving the palace yesterday. From tomorrow, I shall be accompanying my cousin to verify the supplies in the production department.” his chuckle forced you to let out one as well. his irresponsible behaviour had fables of its own, as jaehyun had told you once. the little penalties he was subjected to weren’t discomforting either but this time it involved you as well.

“for how long?”

 “my family’s care agenda would hopefully end within two weeks and then I shall be free again. but we might need a new place and new time too.”

His words were muffled in the back as your eyes remained transfixed on his hand sheepishly rubbing his neck. Under your inappropriate scrutiny, he found himself tinting and your strong gaze posed more problems for his already thumping heart.

He coughed you out of your daze, eyes wavering everywhere. Picking your lip, you suppressed your giggles.

Finger under your chin, you pretended contemplation. Your comical stance earned a groan from him,

“how about you get serious for once and I’ll buy you steamed food.”

Smiling widely, your greedy stomach took the offer immediately.

“not everyone lacks intelligence, prince jaehyun.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, feigning offence at your statement. “Now what are you implying princess y/n.”

“that I might already have a place decided. So hurry up now and feed me food while telling me about your day.”

“You are impressive, my lady! How am I going to live with your notorious self?”

“you plan on living with this notorious princess?” you clowned even though his question showed you more than just a hope.

“the inquiry hour is closed princess and so would be the shops if you choose to delay more. Soooo, shall we leave?”

Responding to your sharp gaze, he took your hand and pressed his plump lips onto them, disrupting the chain of your rational thoughts.

As the atmosphere tuned cooler and he bid adieu, you went back with a new assurance, ready to put your life on hold for the next few weeks.

lying on your back, you let out muffled giggles to celebrate another successful classified evening. clothes were changed, chess was out. You were prepared for any intrusion.

Zara's laughter soon died down, happy and heavy breaths replacing them. Seated on your bed, she faced you,

"So my courageous y/n, did you confess today?"

Abruptly you raised yourself, looking at her in bewilderment,

“Of course not!”

“What? Why not? What are you waiting for? Time is slipping away love.”

“I know. I just want to be a little more sure before taking this a step further. I do not want to misjudge his momentary affection for a promised future.The detestation our families share for each other has always proven to be deadly. Unless I’m sure that jaehyun’s feelings are indisputable, I shall not be proceeding." Mumbling out the last part, you began playing with the hem of your deep blue skirt to hide the disappointment that settled in within your heart. 

"Okay. I can't force you but do know that saving your heart from misery is better. Oh and does the poor boy have any hint about me." Zara advised lacing her words with a chuckle in the end. 

"Don't worry. You are just a maid friend whom I love and trust the most. He believes each of my pretty lies you know.”

"Oh my love. He truly fancies you. I wish your brother wasn't so incapable of harbouring feelings. How delightful life could have been only if he was like you." She wistfully spoke just like other times. Your heart hurt for her. She never got the love she was capable of giving yet the kindness never withered away. She was just like that. 

Soon your peace was interrupted and you were escorted to the dinner table. 

There sat your parents with their favourite child. You weren't loved any less yet it weakened your heart, watching them walking past your capabilities to applaud his undistinguished skills. His gender screamed for power when his capabilities barely had any knowledge of whispering about them. You abhorred it. Not your brother for he was raised with a rode in his neck but the stars that never aligned in your favour crushing your dream of wearing the crown for your own kingdom, under the grime rules made by those who were dead. Only god and zara knew how much hatred you held for your ruthless ancestors who never favoured women.

Sans any relish, you bit on the food which definitely tasted better for something you were not very fond of. but the almost good meal was ridden of all the salt as you felt conscious of their eyes on your face.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" you asked with a reluctantly polite voice.

That's when you noticed how their attention was divided to both you and zara.  Your brother Donghae’s serious eyes bored into her face as she tried to avoid him while sitting right across him on the dining table.

Finally your mother spoke.

“Donghae was looking for you throughout the whole evening, zara.”

Zara lowered her head, look on her face screaming help which only you understood so you took the charge on her behalf,

“We were in my room.”

“And what is so important in your room that you both chose to ignore constant calls from your maids?”

“After an exhausting and unentertaining day, we both play chess, share all the amusing stories of our respective days, details of which can be given to you if asked with some enthusiasm and then we sleep for an hour, in peace without anyone spitting orders on our faces and since when have my brother changed so much that he actually got some time to look for his wife?”

“May I know from where this disrespectful flow of words is coming through? Is this a way to talk to your elders?”

“I mean no disrespect, mother.”

“This ends today. From tomorrow you shall be spending those two hours with our bakery chef.”

Instead of your mother, you directed your next plead to your father, who was an expert in nodding at household matters

“No! This is the only time I get with zara. within a year or two i’ll be married off to some rude man who won’t even let me put my feet outside the threshold of his palace.” pouting, you said.

Waving his hand, he dismissed the matter that meant whoever got the last sentence was the conqueror of the discussion.

"Why are you here?" Counting and aligning the stars to form another shape, he interestingly asked.

"I wanted to explore this dead garden. What about you? What brings you here in the enemy land?" You jested.

"to meet a very beautiful enemy."

"a woman?"

"Yes yes. She's a woman. A very pretty one I must say but very feisty and dangerous to be around."

"Oh how so?" You asked now genuinely interested in his description of yours.

"I've heard she has a heart of stone."

"Huh? Have you seen her heart to be so sure of your accusation?"

"I've enough instances to prove that."

"Like?"

"She meets a handsome prince, spends an hour staring at his eyes with all but love and still chooses to stay silent. It's a dangerous game she's playing with him. It almost - it hurts him."his fatalistic expression left you stunned. The ancillary confession beleaguered your heart instead of calming the storm.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you tried your best to focus on the constellations instead. you pulled the poor blade of grass harder in a futile attempt of breaking it apart but it was snatched from you.

“answer me.” He demanded the answer that was resting on the tip of your tongue.

"I love you."

He blurted out and you felt his fingers finding home in yours as he interlocked them. the moisture of the grass swamped your hands and you finally found your warmth within each other.

“the whole palace is under your charm y/n” you stopped the stirring at zara’s words.

“how so?”

“they haven’t seen your wrath in the past few weeks. You didn’t shout at minji for throwing your burnt cake either.”

Swatting her hand away from the pot, you replied, “let them enjoy their peace days.”

“may god bless jaehyun! The whole palace is saved until you are happy.” Bumping her shoulders into yours, she took the charge from you. “what about the haunted garden y/n. aren’t you afraid of going there. it’s been weeks and I haven’t heard you screaming about any ghost.”

You scoffed at her naive self, “the only ghost that haunts the garden is in ME!” dragging the last part, you successfully scared her into dropping the ladle in the hot pot. Resultantly, she chases you off in the whole kitchen until you agree to turn the muddle of vegetables into something edible.

Jaehyun’s presence generated so much happiness within your soul that you were afraid one unfortunate day would snatch him from you yet you never fought against the urge to drown in the love he poured on you. He mirrored the boy you met in your books, just as dreamy, if not more. His princely chiselled face was a sight to die for. He was a typical example of a lotus, a beautiful flower born in mud where it lived and died and you wanted to change that for him.

“What do you fear the most?”

Nestling your face in his neck, you couldn’t help but ask the question. He snuggled you closer to him, the sheet beneath you crumpling making the leaves and the grass it covered rustling under you. He shifted his head only to face your hair. Removing his one hand from your waist, he moved your chin to inspect you. He never understood how you came up with most bizzare and inquiring questions. But he was always more than happy to speak or in this case, express.

“that I will forever remain indebted to you.”

grasping his hand that held your chin, you saw him gulp down the words he hesitated to utter. 

"Love is not a debt jae. Just keep loving me like this, make me hap-

Abruptly your view of him changed as he floated over your figure. Resting your head on the sheet, his fingers traced the path along your face, feeling every inch of the skin he had learned to admire from afar. With adoration filled eyes, he drew nearer.

His lips were delicate against yours. Moving gently, he comforted your vulnerable ones, winning a pleased and dry whine from your throat. Hands dropping to your neck, his lips travelled down to your jaw where he sucked lightly at a candied spot and the little tickle kisses he gave you reaching your collarbones left you squealing in its wake. He hovered over your face again, this time to taste the bliss you felt and courageously, you pulled him closer and like it was designed, Mist of delight clouded your minds as  you forgot your fingers in his nape. If finding stars in his eyes was your expression of love then dancing against your pulsating lips, he perfectly found his interpretation as well. 

He drew back when he was done with bruising your skin. Staring into your eyes, he asked for something. With a blink of the same, you conveyed it. 

Curving your back, you allowed him to unzip the lavender dress you were wearing. As he uncovered your skin, he greeted it with beautiful, praiseworthy kisses, covering you with his undying love.

That night he resuscitated you, sending you into an oblivion. 

The reason being the incantations that he served you with.

I wish to give you a ring!

And the simple words resonated the promise that you could hardly wait for him to fulfill.

Sympathy combining some unknown feeling washed over you as you heard your father talking about the neighbouring kingdoms and the pitiful state they were in. you had always known about the lack of resources those people lived with but that was the end. It was just a topic of discussion and theory to learn about the blunders of their ancestors and the brutal history of their treason to an old ally, your father and grandfather.

With a contempt laced tongue, once again, your father recited the story of betrayal of the lees and the jungs. The story was religiously told to every child once they were old enough to understand the terms like loyalty, allegiance, infidelity and betrayal.

You had vowed to change that. a seed of hatred planted in a younger mind would only yield a crop of vengeance. you aspired to end it. Jaehyun, too, wanted to wash the stains of treachery from his family name.  

 To your dismay, the army was out to roam the small towns and villages, looking for trespasser enemies. 

One day, you were resting in jaehyun's arms and the next day, you were left to sulk as the guards had suddenly decided to reaffirm the reliability of all the hinges. The doors were smacked, locked and unlocked, leaving you with million suspicions and a heavy heart. 

The only assurance you had, was in Jaehyun's capability of fooling the security forces. Proud as you were, the unsettling feeling of a blurred future did not let you sleep. For three nights.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly from behind.

“easy jaehyun! it tickles!” you exclaimed while controlling your giggling.

“i thought you won’t be here tonight but yo-

“but i managed to sneak!” you finished, turning in his arms to see his beautiful face glistening in the moonlight. “and i don’t know for how much longer i can fool my attendants, what if one day they got in trouble for negligence. The security is doubled outside all the chambers. If I pulled anything, father would not hesitate to behead them.” your face dimmed with the mere thought of the fate of your precious maids and if anything happened to them, your soul would be forever encumbered with the guilt. 

your worried eyes didn’t escape jaehyun as he leaned forward to give you a small kiss, soothing your nerves. the small peck left you wanting for more as you bit your lower lip in anticipation of his further actions.

“nothing would happen. it’s been 2 months and nobody in the whole kingdom knows where and with whom their gorgeous princess spends her nights! and besides i’m here to ease the worries of your forever wandering mind. "

"Why do you always have to talk in riddles jae!"

He laughed through your smacks before circling your figure twice, leaving you staggered and dumbfounded.

"What are yo-

"I'm serious. I’m just here to fulfil my promise love.” he caught and pulled you again, keeping just a little distance between you both

“what promise? i don’t remember anything!” you asked genuinely perplexed by his words. as far as your memory too you, the only promise he made was-

your eyes widened at the realisation! jaehyun removed his one hand from your waist, putting it inside the pocket of his pants.

at this point, you could hear your own thumping heart whilst looking at him expectantly.

“let’s relieve you of a huge burden my princess!” he said with a smiling face but as you tried to mirror his expression, a sharp pain coursed through your abdomen.

you wobbled as he left your waist, the pain doubling when he pulled the small knife out of your body, a smirk adorning his features instead.

your body felt hotter than ever as the blood slowly oozed out of your abdomen. no scream left your lips as you pressed the wounded area in a try to lessen the ache.

The solemn tears falling down the cheeks were not for the physical damage but for the broken promise Jaehyun had bestowed upon you with.

“wh-why?” was the only word you could form before your other hand went to grab his arm but was only met with air.

jaehyun loomed closer and his knife met your stomach once again, this time a grievous shriek filled the silent garden. 

Your legs lost life, your body finding it harder to withstand the twist of the knife as you fell on the grass, darkness consuming your soul.

“because i couldn’t be on the throne as long as the heir of this kingdom was alive. but your death won’t be worthless love. I shall wear the crown of your sacrifice and reclaim all the lost honour.”

Instead of a deep breath as you had expected, a choked sob left your lips and the whole body convulsed with the painful effort.

Your eyes remained glued to him as he rubbed his face with this sleeve regarding you with the cruelty you never knew he was capable of.

contempt in his orbs served as his last offering towards you as he exited your sight, calling for someone.

After what felt like years, you heard a human voice again but your body gave up before you could comprehend anything. 

“you did it my boy!”

Jinyoung broke his hateful glare from the throne and patted a demented jaehyun on the back, congratulating his prime pawn for the successful acquisition. The so called disqualified heirs were now the rulers, a dream that was once broken by their backstabbing friend, the now murdered king of this kingdom.

“and you shall be rewarded for you have made your deceased father proud.” Hand caressing Jaehyun's shoulder, he pretended to wipe the few tears that escaped due to the bitter memory. Cleaning his eyes with the sleeve of his dusted robe, he took the gold crown from his younger brother, jinseok and ran his eyes from jaehyun to the majestic chair on the silver podium.

With pride clotted blood, Jaehyun bowed to him before taking his seat.

The crown was set atop his head, fitting him without any doubt.

It weighed more than he thought.

With a sinister smile, his uncle ordered the assassination of all the loyal members of court.

Guards were beheaded and bodies were counted.

The palace was foraged, to find and kill all the runaways.

A manhunt was announced for the one who wasn’t found.

Nobody knew there were more to be found.

The triumphant smile lit Jaehyun's face for he lost nothing.

Three weeks later.  

Donghae’s hands lost all the strength, the plastic bag filled with potatoes now rolling down the uneven and mud washed floor of the hut.

The day he had been anticipating with broken hope and glistening eyes was not a dream anymore.

Your fingers finally trembled against the hard, rugged and rough mattress.

You had decided to open your eyes after three weeks.

Finally he allowed himself to cry.

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

Crown hanging between his fingers, his gaze pierced the ground.

You were lying there three weeks ago.

Were you taken away?

Were you no more?

There was no probability of inhaling after how perfectly he had spun his knife.

No man had ever survived his knife, not even his own teacher. There was no way you could have. All the odds were in his favour for all the cards being played with accuracy.

Did he hope for your life?

You were an enemy, just a play. Then why the thought of never beholding you again hurt him so much. 

why the weight of the crown crumbled on him with such intensity.

Why did he choose your chamber to stay in?

Yet Why was he unable to sleep?

He grew up seeking answers and  taking orders and this time there was no one to respond to his cries.

Neither did anyone care enough to ask him the reason for his quotidian visits to the garden.

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

It wasn’t home. But the eyes looking back at you undeniably reminded you of it. A day has passed since you saw the light of the world again but all you did was listen to the gut-wrenching fate your family had met with. Half of the family!

Your parents were murdered in the coup premeditated  by none other than the neighbouring jungs. What was equally agonising was the fact that your brother never got to give your parents a respectable farewell. The troops had charged upon their sleepy selves and the mere hanging crown on the naked and bloodied sword of jin young was enough of a proof of the successful attack. Their escape hadn't been easy either but with a little help from the general, they had managed to flee. Zara had led them to you. 

 Unknown fear consumed you as you read your surroundings. But it was time you admitted to your mistakes and faced the consequences. If there were any brutal ones left. There was nothing you would be unable to endure. So you began with the unanswered questions.

“what is this place?” you asked with a sore throat.

“this is jung’s territory. They are too blinded by their victory that this barren land is the last place they would send their troops to.” donghae replied, feeding you spoonfuls of the soup.

“But how did we reach here?"

"Through the underground war doors. They once joined both of our territories before the jungs were disqualified from trading. This end was opened by our general when we lost too much blood. Their bloody nephew is sitting on the throne, uniting this useless kingdome with ours." He seethed. 

You bit your lip to compose yourself. you knew you had to tell them about jaehyun and a broken trust was the last thing you wanted to inject in him but necessity clawed on your heart to reveal everything.

Caressing your face, he acidly began, 

"We'll take back everything. No one shall be spared. We are contacting our alliances. By next month, our kingdom would be in the state of siege. Every drop of blood shall be avenged. Jaehyun would pay for what he did."

At his mention, you withdrew your sight from him. Guilt crept up within you as you tried to affiliate every past event with the current one. It was clear as day you were a mere instrument to find a place for the entry of their troops. You were just a puppet. Unknowingly, you had allowed them to enter your parent's bedroom too. You had blood on your hands. Of countless people.

A single tear slipped and the lack of his expression on your face scared zara. She ran to occupy the other side of the bed and caught your head before you broke down in her arms. Jaehyun's lies and betrayal of your love was left somewhere in an old rusted chest of your mind and the pure anguish shattered you into millions of pieces.

You wailed yourself to sleep. 

Jaehyun visited you that night. In the form of dust. And he continued breaching your peace as if killing you once wasn't enough.

Now the day bleeds, into nightfall and you are not here, to get me through it all.

Jaehyun woke up in cold sweat. When was the last time he slept with an easy mind? 

Maybe the week before he was ordered to finish off what he had started. 

He changed rooms. 

He changed floors.

But his eyes never closed for even the minor chances of meeting you in the dreamland scared him to death. 

With a trembling hand, he picked up the crown and threw it away.

Amusingly, you were still dead.

Were you really that foolish?

Perhaps you resembled every other weak hearted person for whom a pinch of affection was a desperate call to sell their soul and rationality.

You had just wanted to walk down the markets without any constraints pulling you back in. Skipping in the shadows while hiding from the sun was the only desire you had. 

Why had he bumped his shoulder into yours? Why had he repeated it again and again until had grown to recognise his touch even through the thick layers of clothing and masked faces?

It's amusing how we end up finding each other in the same place at same time everyday

He had said with a sugary tone when you had questioned him sternly. 

You had believed him.

I'm prince Jaehyun, from the other side. I just came here to see the beauty that our place doesn't possess. It's all barren and discarded. No healthy vegetables. No dry fruits. I just enjoy myself every evening and buy some good food for some poor kids. You won't mention this to anyone right? I’ll leave right away if you want though!

How righteous had he sounded!

We'll propose unification and then everything will come to life again. No bloodshed. No backstabbing. No spy plays. We’ll never let history blemish our future.

How had he managed to contradict each and every word he had spoken. 

he just changed like the patterns in the kaleidoscope as if you had never reflected in the mirrors of his heart. 

Perhaps you never did.

You despised his way of fulfilling his Imperishable love for you! 

You were relieved Zara had been the one to inform your brother of this leading cause.

How ruthless he could have been!

You wanted to give his whole kingdom a new life and all he could give you in return was a knife. 

I was getting kinda used to being the someone you loved

Jaehyun's fingers turned green for how harshly he picked at the grass. Picking at those innocent blades didn't bring you back. 

His cries thundered in the air. He begged for the time to turn itself. He yearned for the love you had shown him. He missed your warmth. He missed your careless laughs. His heart shrieked for you. The only person he had ever loved. The only being who had ever loved him.

 Why he couldn't have saved himself from being the traitor of the heart he could've ruled!

You stared at the heavy corset that was made to safeguard you.

You were no expert with a blade but still one was handed over to you as precaution. 

The general read you the instructions, mainly focusing on the need to remain hidden underground until the war was over. You and Zara were to be kept away from the weapons. 

That was what the commandments directed you to follow.

Today, the wind blew harsher. Maybe he was the only one to feel the strange stillness in the disorder. Everything had been imprudently loud for him lately. Even the riots that shook the doors of the palace. How long could they have held onto something that never belonged to them! 

As he dismissed the servant who called him to take charge against your brother, his mind pressed upon bolting all the heavy doors to ignore the murderous stream. He had led one army before but now lacked the courage to pick up his knife and sword, the ones he buried right in the garden where you once laid.

You.

The broken look on your face was the image he wanted to delete from the depths of his mind so desperately yet your presence never left him alone. Maybe it was the sanction of the heavens that you were always there with him. In his days and in his dreams. He got all of your portraits removed yet here you were, standing in front of him with a smile on your face. A quiet rare sight. The radiant face, if not impossible to find, was still very infrequent even in his dreams. The air smelled of you. The atmosphere was enticing. Suddenly, he wanted to chase his dream, to go after you. 

So he followed his heart. 

Your illusion stayed still, with curved lips making you look ethereal. Even in the darkness, your face illuminated the way for him.

His hand rose, hoping to touch you even though the rational part of his head screamed that it was a lie created by him to save himself from another night of misery but he failed to listen and caved in. Like each time, he expected his hand to pass through you, breaking the charm of his fabrication of you. 

But here he was. 

Instead of passing through the smoke that you were supposed to be, his hand rested upon the gentle skin that your face had. Retracting his fingers immediately, he fell back in fear, eyes widening and chest heaving. 

You were anything but an illusion. 

His hand grazed against your cheek before he fell down, stumbling upon his own feet. The crown that decorated his head too withdrew its support, lying on the floor like it had recognised its lawful owner.

"My king." Solemnly, you addressed him. "I hope you are enjoying your new home and title."

As you talked, you watched him collecting himself. As he unclogged the blocks of his mind, awe transformed his face momentarily shaping itself into trepidation. To your disbelief, he brightened up once again. Had he not been liable for the ghastly crimes, you’d have sympathised with the deranged state of the always self possessed jaehyun. Alas! You had nothing to offer him.

Shuffling on his knees, with his head bowed lowly, he spoke with dead voice,

"Forgive me, please." He cried into his joined hands.

"Get up jaehyun. A mighty and worthy king like you doesn't look very honourable bowing to a mere woman like me." Your dangerously honeyed voice resembled the ominous dark clouds brooding atop his head. 

But you admired his valor for he kept apologising, burning himself with the false hope of undoing the indelible smudge he had left on you.

"I thought i never loved you y/n but i was utterly wron-

"You are a deceiver King jaehyun. Do not expect me to believe you." 

"Don't call me that please!" 

"Get up jaehyun." you barked. 

"I hate myself for doing that to you y/n." Getting up slowly, he repeated twice. You were yet to see his face and when he rose to his full height, you were met with his bloodshot eyes that could've ached you if your heart hadn't been damaged to the core.

"Don't hate yourself please. You made your family proud. That is what we kids should be aiming for right. I truly admire you for that King jaehyun." The emotionless stress on the end made him close his eyes in pain as he choked out another heart wrenching sob. 

"I'm truly sorry y/n, please. I can't take your hatred. I don't want this crown nor do i want to live here anymore."

Your stomach churned at his cries. You had truly underestimated his capability to surprise you but it only made you grip harder on the knife that was tucked in your waistband.

“How naive of you to think that I'll fall for your lies again, jaehyun.”

Rubbing his face with his palms, he looked heavenward,

"No no. I love you. I really really love you.I never realised this until now. I just can’t live without you” and continued as his glistened eyes met yours, “Why are you not listening to me?"

"Don't you think you are a bit late for a true confession."

"Yours was true right. Your love was conditionless. I swear on your love! Forgive me once please. Love is the strongest, you told me this right. I just need you y/n. not this crown. Not anyone else. Just you, Please." 

A mean scoff left your lips, "Yes, i was the one who told you about love being the most powerful but that was until you taught me the strength of hatred, jaehyun. You knifed me out of the fairytales i dreamt with you and i don't think i can ever thank you enough for that. The love you are so profoundly swearing to is lying under the debris of the hollow pride and the abhorrence you sheltered for my family. You never once heard my pleas of affection and now you expect me to listen to yours?how can you stoop so low?"

You watched him screaming into the air and crumbling down. You saw him going through the pain you would never recover from yourself and you wanted to end it. For him. It was rather painful to watch him so you mumbled his name. 

With newfound belief, he loomed closer with open arms, anticipating a change of heart from you. Maybe you weren't really as unconcerned to him as he had been with you. 

but the long blade mutilated his lungs and silent gasps of pain escaped his throat. His miserable eyes ruined the shield you wore and you screamed at him while repeating the thrusts of the sharp blade. Droplets of vengeance imbued the chilled air, drizzling down your neck in the form of sweat.

Somehow the hall was lit and you were forced to see what you had done to him. His grip on the ground faltered and the blade slipped through your fingers, the clink dangerously reverberating in the hall. 

Before your hand could reach for him, something pointed grazed your shoulder. You wanted to turn around but more and more spikes pierced through you; the heaviness and the pain that seeped through your back launched you forward and you fell down on another body that had been hosted by the marble a few moments ago. The ache of the arrows left you breathless. Once again, you struggled with your eyelids. within a few seconds, relief padded your back and you discontinued your wrestling. 

and perhaps your dead heart was finally at peace.

[imagineyourworld]

Peer Pressure

Kix x Fem!Princess!Reader 

Summary: Kix finds himself giving the princess medical assistance, and even though the two of them hit it off, no one else seems to like the two of them together

Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of a bombing (happened prior to the story), people being a-holes towards the clones 

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The first time Kix sa you he could have sworn time stopped for a moment. All his bleeding brothers, the destroyed droids and remains of the palace faded into the background the second he laid eyes on you. And when you ended up walking straight towards him his heart skipped a beat. Though he soon scolded himself for this when he saw that you weren’t exactly walking, but rather jumping on one leg, trying your best not to put any pressure on the other. Kix hurried over to you and without either of you having to say a single word he put his arm around your waist and guided you over to one of the makeshift beds along the tent walls.  “Thank you”, you said.  Those two words made Kix turn his attention away from your leg and to your eyes. Even though they haven’t been on this planet for very long, everyone in the 501st could tell that the inhabitants were not big fans of clones, most of them ignored them altogether while others were nothing but mean and cold. Your words might have been the first friendly ones he had heard since their arrival that didn’t come from one of his brothers.  “You’re welcome”, he replied, trying his best to focus on your leg again and not your gorgeous eyes. “What seems to be the problem?”  You shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. I was with my family, trying to escape the palace as soon as the alarms went off, but then there was this loud noise and next thing I knew I was all alone and the walls around me were nothing more than dust and pebbles.  Kix nodded along while you talked.  “Do you mind lifting your dress so I can have a closer look at your leg?” You did as you were told, lifting the hem of your dress inch by inch until Kix told you to stop. He could now see that your knee was at a weird angle and there was a long cut along your calf, which was still bleeding. He studied the dark fabric of your dress for a moment to see if there was any indication as to how much blood you’ve lost, but all he noticed that the dress, though now dirty and torn in some places, seemed incredibly expensive. You must be a very high up servant, or maybe even some kind of noble woman.  “Your knee is dislocated and you have a cut on your calf. It’s bleeding a lot, but not deep, so you should be on your feet in no time”, he explained as he began to disinfect your wound before wrapping it up. “Try not to put too much weight on this leg the next couple of days, a day or two of bedrest would help as well, if that’s possible. And the bandages should be changed once a day until the wound is closed. As for your knee, this will hurt for just a second, you can squeeze my arm, it might help with the pain.”  Once again you were a model patient and did as told while Kix tried not to let your warm hand on his arm affect him. He had put off parts of his armour a while earlier due to the hot climate and now there was only a thin layer of fabric between your skin and his.  “What’s your name?”, you asked as Kix put his hands on your knee, whether because you were really interested or to distract you Kix didn’t know, but he found that it didn’t really matter to him. You had asked for his name, not his number as the few other people he had spoken to on this planet, one of whom had only asked so he could report him for daring to touch him while placing a bacta patch on him.  “Kix. My name’s Kix”, he said and quickly followed up by asking for your name.  “I’m (Y/N)”, you said, though you rather screamed the last syllable in the short moment it took Kix to relocate your knee. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kix. And thank you so much for your help. What can I do to repay you?”  Kix, now finished with his work, looked at you in shock. Surely you had to be joking.  “I... “, he began, not sure what to say. In all his time as a medic, this was a question he had never heard.  “Maybe we could meet again for dinner and you could tell me what you’ve thought of”, you suggested with a bright smile on your lips that made Kix’s mouth dry. Did you just ask him on a date? Were you flirting with him?  “I’d like that. Especially after the day I’ve had”, he finally admitted.  Still smiling you leaned forward, placing your elbows on your legs and your head in your hands until your face was only inches way from Kix, who was still kneeling in front of you.  “Go on, tell me about your day.”  Kix scanned your face, looking for any trace of irony or cruelty, but when he didn’t find anything that might lead him to believe that you weren’t sincere he began.  “Well, it was a long day and a short night. Jesse, that’s one of the brothers I’m closest with, woke me at the crack of dawn because Hardcase had dropped his caf and cut himself on the broken cup trying to pick up the pieces. Once his hand was bandaged Echo and Fives came running through the medbay, trying to hide from Dogma, who they had pulled some sort of prank on. And before that could be settled Rex commed us to get us over here because the palace was under attack.”  Kix surprised himself with how much he had told you, how easy it was for him to talk to you and that you were smiling and laughing as he told his story.  “That sounds like an eventful day, much better than mine. Maybe I’ll get to meet your brothers one day”, you said wistfully.  Before Kix could reply to that he heard voices from the other side of the tent. As he looked over he saw you rolling your eyes out of the corner of his eyes.  “Where is she? Where is our daughter? I demand you bring us to her?”  He saw Rex trying to calm the screaming man down, but the woman next to him then began to yell at the Captain. Luckily just a moment later General Skywalker intervened and much to Kix’s dismay lead the couple over to him.  “Kix, the King and Queen say that their daughter was admitted to the medical tent. Have you by any chance seen the princess?”  Kix shook his head. He was pretty sure he would have noticed if anyone like the two monarchs in front of him would have been anywhere near the tent.  “There you are! (Y/N), we were so worried. What are you doing here? You should be with our own doctors, not this... clone”, the Queen exclaimed while, to Kix’s surprise, put both her hands on your cheeks. Though he didn’t hear your reply, since his attention was now captured by the King who had picked up his wife’s yelling.  “What do you think you were doing with my daughter? Were you trying to kidnap her? You better hope for your own good that you didn’t touch her, or else-”, he began before being interrupted by both you and Anakin.  “Dad!”, you yelled while Anakin told him not to speak to his men like that.  Though neither the King nor the Queen paid any attention to either of you. Instead they both took one of your arms and basically lifted you off the bed. All you could to before they all but carried out the tent was to turn around to look at Kix and mouth a single word.  “Sorry.”  All Kix could do was stare after you, standing completely still and not registering anything around him until he suddenly felt Jesse’s hand on his shoulder.  “Well done, vod. That’s the princess you were just flirting with.” 

-------

A short while later you were sitting in an armchair in the one part of the palace that, by some miracle, was still mostly intact.  The room was smaller than what you were used to, and the clothes you were wearing were a lot less elaborate than your usual dresses, and yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead it felt rather like you weren’t yourself at all, like you could do things you usually couldn’t. The thought brought an idea to your mind. You looked very different in this simple black dress, with no makeup and unstyled hair, if you were to leave the palace no one would stop you, they wouldn’t even recognize you.  Without thinking further about your idea you jerked into action, packing the small dinner on the table next to you in a basket you had found earlier and making your way out of the room and through the halls.  No one stopped you, no one even bothered to look at you until you arrived at your destination.  “Who are you? What do you want?”, a clone with the number five tattooed on his forehead asked. Though his voice was similar to Kix’s, he sounded a lot less friendly.  “I’m looking for a medic. His name is Kix. We met earlier today and I-”  “What? You’re gonna yell at him some more?”, another clone, this one without visible tattoos asked.  You shook your head and lifted the basket in your hands.  “I’m bringing him dinner as a thank you for helping me. And an apology for my parent’s behaviour.”  It seemed to dawn on the clones who you were once you mentioned your parents.  “You’re the princess!”, the tattooed clone exclaimed, though the other elbowed him in the side a moment later.  “Kix should be in the mess. That’s the third door to the right”, the other clone said, his voice a lot friendlier now, before the two of them let you pass onto the ship.  You soon found your way to the mess, though only once you stepped inside did it occur to you that finding Kix amongst all the other clones might be a bit more difficult than anticipated. As you began to look around the room you realized that one after the other all the clones had stopped eating and were now looking at you. You felt heat rising to your cheeks. Maybe you should have thought this through instead of assuming Kix would be around, waiting for you.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity of you looking around the room and every single men inside staring at you, one of the clones walked up to you. He obviously wasn’t Kix, but introduced himself as Jesse, a name you were at least familiar with.  “You must be the princess. If you’re looking for Kix, he just left for the barracks. Down the corridor, then left. If you might still catch him before he hits the ‘fresher.”  Relief flooded through your body.  “Thank you”, you called over your shoulder as you headed out the door to finally find Kix.  You saw him just as he was rounding the corner and called his name. Though you hadn’t expected him to stop dead in his track because as soon as you ran around the corner you ran right into him. Luckily Kix had quick reflexes and caught you before you could fall down.  “You weren’t just running, were you? What part of ‘don’t put weight on your leg’ didn’t you understand?”, he sighed, though there was a grin on his lips.  You shook your head as you tried your best to catch your breath. How dare he talk about your leg now instead of appreciating your grand gesture?  “I know, I’m sorry”, you said, even though you weren’t really, not if running was your way of catching Kix. “And I’m sorry for earlier. My parents... they’re... they can be... I’m sorry. I’m nothing like them, I promise. And look, I even brought the dinner I promised you as proof.”  Without hesitation you thrust the basket in Kix’s hands. He looked inside before turning back to you.  “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to have dinner. Clearly there are a million reasons you should stay away from me.”  You shook your head. How could he say that? Didn’t he notice how much you’ve grown to like him after spending just a few minutes with him and how that could easily turn into something more if he’d just agree to have dinner with you? Hadn’t he felt the sparks earlier?  “Maybe I don’t want to stay away. Maybe I want to have dinner with you, no matter what anyone may say or think.”  Kix simply handed you the basket, but before he could say anything else you tossed it to the side and stepped closer.  “Tell me you don’t want to spend time with me and I’ll leave, but don’t blame it on other people. This isn’t about what my parents think, what your brothers may think, this is about you and me and the fact that I’ve never felt about anyone like I feel about you.”  A loud sigh left Kix’s lips. He reached to take your hands in his and gently stroked along your knuckles.  “You don’t even know me, mesh’la.”  You spoke enough Mando’a for that little word to give you a bit of hope.  “We can change that. We can take it slow, no pressure, no expectations. Just one question: Will you have dinner with me?”  Kix looked deep into your eyes as his answer, one single word, left his lips. 

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I might write two seperate part twos to this story, one in which Kix agrees to dinner and one in which he doesn’t, if that’s something you’d like to read. 

As always, I’d love to hear some thoughts and feedback <3

[stxleslyds]

It’s very interesting to see your thoughts on Winnik cause personally while I like that he made jason a bit unhinged and fun in utrh his other characterizations of his were eh at best. Like why would jason not care about the world and why would he take over the drug trade of all things considering his history. I feel like Winnick had a very surface level understanding of Jason. There was a lot of his past to explore but it wasn’t explored that deeply. Plus I absolutely HATED his Bruce and talia characterization. And how he wrote Talia in both utrh and lost days was absolutely disgusting and his explanation for why he did it was that Jason loves Talia and that they were both messed up ppl??? Which is where I can’t forgive him. I feel like he was a one hit wonder because ever since utrh his Jason story started to go downhill. I also feel like it’s because DC doesn’t know how to write a character that’s from a poor background and that’s a huge disservice to Jason. I do hope that Rosenberg or another writer (hopefully female) does a good job on him. He’s been suffering under shitty writing for so long. Sorry for the long ask I really enjoy reading your posts.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending your ask!

Well, this is a great question because I love giving my opinions on Winick’s UtRH and Lost Days. I know those books (or some moments in them) are not everyone’s cup of tea and I had and have some problems with some of them but I have also come to understand them or even accept them as a writer bringing up a morally grey area in his books and doing it well (or at least I saw it that way after re-reading and researching a bit about his thoughts on those matters).

This is going to be a long post (I suppose) because there is a lot to cover and I want to let you know in a clear way why I think that what Winick wrote works beautifully for Jason. I will try to answer this as coherently as I can, so I will talk about the points you made in your ask separately so I make sure I don’t forget anything.

Let’s begin!

“Why would Jason not care about the world?”

I assume with that you meant about what happened in Bludhaven when Chemo was dropped there by the Society? That is valid but that really wasn’t Winick’s fault (I believe), that whole thing was shown in the book because back then the Bat-related books were more interconnected and that was what was happening in Dick’s Nightwing run at the time, which I think was used to explain why Dick suddenly stopped helping Bruce in Gotham.

And then I think Jason and Bruce watching that happen when they were having that conversation on that roof was very well planned out. I think Winick used that opportunity for Jason to be his peak level of little shit and make Bruce feel bad about not arriving in time to save another one of his kids. Even though Jason later revealed that he never blamed Batman for not arriving in time to save him, I believe Jason said that about Dick to make Bruce hurt more. Jason was trying to make Bruce stay in Gotham so either Bruce or him killed the Joker that night. Winick on the other hand had to finish his story, him branching out and having Batman go to Bludhaven would have benefited absolutely no one either, and it just didn’t fit the story that was being told in Under the Red Hood.

That’s why I think that Jason reacted that way to the Bludhaven and Chemo situation. If by caring about the world you meant something else let me know! (He obviously cared about Gotham in UtRH and other people in Lost Days).

“Why would he take over the drug trade of all things considering his history?”

Well, I have to be honest with you Jason wanting to control the drug trade in Gotham makes absolute sense to me, and even more when I think about Jason’s past history.

Jason and Bruce have always been (to me) clear opposites in various angles, and in UtRH, Winick talks about that a little bit too.

Batman was created to eradicate crime from Gotham after Bruce witnessed the death of his parents, that was the tragedy that set him off, and even though it was tragic and awful he had everything outside of his parents, he had a home, a support system, people that cared and gave him love, and money. He never had to be in contact with the cruel reality that was Gotham. We know through various stories that Gotham is deeply rotten and corrupted.

But Jason did know how corrupted, rotten and devoid of hope his city really was, he lived in the streets and in an abandoned apartment alone because he didn’t trust the police or social workers (he didn’t believe the system was helpful). He had seen his mother die at the hands of drugs after his father was sent to jail due to his criminal behaviour. Probably his father was a drug dealer and was the person that got his mother into drugs, (I believe that was later made canon, I might be wrong). But why did he do that? Maybe because he came from a poor and complicated background and nobody wanted to employ him so the real bad people of Gotham, like Black Mask, Cobblepot and many others, saw his vulnerability and his desperation to make money and they gave him a job as a drug dealer.

Considering that Jason was made out to have very deep problems with people selling drugs in schools and all that, I can estimate that maybe one of the big Drug Lords at the time employed Jason’s father when he was barely a teenager, that way he earned money, he stopped going to school and sold drugs to his peers so the bad people could control more people while they were vulnerable.

If all of that is true then Jason wanting to control the drug trade in Gotham, by becoming a Drug Lord himself, makes perfect sense to me. I mean let’s talk about this, what were his other options?

Kill every drug lord?

What if that set off a gang war in Gotham over who got to be the next big Drug Lord? I mean, it would be like real life, if someone dies in that sort of position there would always be someone else to take their place. Drugs are clearly (in Gotham) a great way to get money and power.

Also, if he killed all the drug lords then what happened to the people that were working for them, how could Jason help them get another job?

Explode every warehouse and facility with drugs in them?

And then what? Wait for Black Mask and the others to buy more and put a target on his back? Maybe kill some innocents so they can send a message to Red Hood that if he keeps destroying their drugs or whatever people will pay for it?

Maybe all the drug lords would come together and kill the Red Hood themselves, what could one man do against everyone else? Black Mask and the others had vulnerable people on a payroll, if they stopped working or went against what their boss said they would have been killed and then families would still be vulnerable and desperate to survive in Gotham.

Come forward as Jason Todd, the not so dead son of Bruce Wayne, and start a campaign against drugs?

Jason would have ended up dead in seconds, everywhere you look there are corrupt people. What could have been the point of that? What could have Jason be able to give families like his so they could stop living under the control of drugs and Drug Lords?

-

Jason being a Drug Lord himself was the best option because Jason KNOWS the reality of Gotham and Gotham’s people. His way of dealing with drugs could control the drug trade in the first 10 years and then eradicate it after that time. His plan was genius!

Jason knew that for people not to suffer as his family did, he had to take the slow and hard path of becoming the thing that he hated the most. He needed to attack the monster from within. So, when he made his first move he controlled the street-level dealers, he told them “I will protect you from both Black Mask and Batman if you stop dealing drugs to kids and in schoolyards if you do that, you are dead”, it is genius! By being clear about not wanting to have kids and high schoolers involved with drugs he set out a new path where those people weren’t forced into drugs and driven away from school. And that’s the way Winick made us see Jason’s not so new morals, he protects Gotham’s kids and he will kill you without hesitation if you endanger them.

From that he built, Winick made it clear, at first Jason would convince the people working for other Drug Lords to work for him if they followed his rules (and he offered them protection!). If Jason worked on the drug trade, he could have controlled who was inserted in the drug life or could have made it exclusive to the rich or club exclusive. In his intention of taking over the drug trade, he could have moved drugs away from Gotham’s most vulnerable.

And if he employed those vulnerable people, he would have made them work for him on other levels, that way those vulnerable people still had jobs and were protected from people like Black Mask. And in due time, fewer young and poor people would be involved with drugs or the drug trade.

Red Hood employs poor people and makes them not sell to other poor people or kids, he pays his employees good money so their families make a better life for themselves and their kids go to school, they are all protected by the Red Hood and his team (Jason could have trained others and make a team or gang that focused entirely on security), those people then get to retire with their families far away from drugs and maybe Gotham too.

I mean, Winick never did those things but I think that was the way he was thinking about it, he really set a golden path for future writers, his story had to finish Jason’s dilemma with Bruce and Joker but then his life as the Red Hood continued. And it could have been good if other writers used the characterization that Winick had given Jason: protector of children, killer of rapists and everyone that endangered women, children and teenagers. All of that was thrown away for a mythical fight with Ra’s al Ghul for people that were as trashy as Ra’s.

“I feel like Winick had a very surface-level understanding of Jason”.

I have to disagree. I think he understood Jason’s character before his death well and then built a grown-up version of him with those morals more developed after he suffered more and then saw how the world and Batman’s ways hadn’t changed after his murder.

We are talking about post-crisis Jason here; he was sweet and he loved being Robin but he also saw the world differently from Bruce and Batman. He lived a very different life than the one that Bruce lived when he was a kid. Jason even said that he “could fend for himself just fine” and that he had “graduated from the streets of crime alley”.

To me Winick understood this completely, he knew that Jason had had close contact with how drugs could affect people and what a criminal record could lead you to, but he also understood that Jason was a survivor of "crime alley" and all its worst people. He probably knew of things that people were doing of he saw them happening. He knew how to protect himself from those things but understood that not everyone could do it. And when Batman took him to Ma Gunn’s school Jason learned that Batman was ignorant of how awful and manipulative Gotham’s people could be. Ma Gunn wasn’t running an orphanage or cool school; she was teaching children how to steal and harm others. He hated it, he was “okay” when he was alone and now, he was locked in with older kids that beat him and Ma Gunn who was exploiting children’s vulnerability.

I assume Winick took that and maybe decided that was the moment when Jason knew that even if Batman was trying to do good, he still didn’t see Gotham (or that side of Gotham) for what it truly was.

When Jason became Robin and worked along with Batman, we could already see that Jason thought very differently about what should be done with rapists, and abusers of all kinds, Jason saw the world differently when he was a kid and a teenager and then after his death, Winick used that to build a Jason Todd that as a young adult still saw Gotham for what it truly was.

“There was a lot of his past to explore but it wasn’t explored that deeply”.

I am really confused by this (and I am very dumb), did you mean that his past before his death wasn’t explored? Because that was not the point of this book, the information was already there with Jason’s previous appearances in comics, and even then, Winick explored through flashbacks in UtRH how he saw Jason and what it was that Jason thought about crime.

If you didn’t mean that and you meant his past before the events of UtRH but after his death then, well, I would say that Winick couldn’t have fit that in UtRH but he did write a story about that time in 2010 when he wrote Red Hood: Lost Days.

“I absolutely hated his Bruce and Talia characterization”

I will only talk about the Bruce part here because you mentioned Talia later in your ask.

To me his Bruce was perfect. I really think that his characterization of him was spot on, but maybe I am biased because I don’t like Bruce at all? I suppose that you are talking about Bruce’s characterization in those last moments in "crime alley" with Jason and Joker? And how he decided that making Jason drop the weapon by throwing a batarang to his throat and saving Joker was a better option than Jason killing the Joker?

If it is that then I would love to see what you think Bruce would have done at that moment because I didn’t really see Bruce using a gun (in any way) as an in-character thing for him, and even though DC has always danced with the idea of Bruce actually killing somebody I know that they wouldn’t have him do it, and even less when it comes to killing the Joker.

I mean, Bruce brought back Joker from the dead when Dick finally killed that piece of shit so, yeah, I don’t know.

I feel like Winick was trying to show just how loyal and squared Bruce is when it comes to his own no killing rule. Jason wasn’t asking for Bruce to go on a killing spree he just wanted Bruce to kill the Joker and he didn’t. Winick even had Bruce say that about him not wanting to kill one person because he felt that if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to stop and I think that’s pretty true. Maybe it is a bit too much but I don’t think it’s a lie.

“How he wrote Talia in both UtRH and Lost Days was absolutely disgusting”

That is absolutely valid, listen, if you didn’t like how he wrote her at all I really can’t say anything against that. My first real and solid contact with Talia’s character was in that book, so when I read UtRH I really liked how he wrote Talia in that, it seemed to have that aspect of Talia’s love for Bruce being so strong that when she saw Jason was alive, she wanted to help him so Bruce could see how much he loved her. It is messed up but I believed it fitted her character, she had good intentions but her reasoning was a little bit wonky.

With Lost Days, I thought that her character was well written, she isn’t a hero and she isn’t a villain, she is just a player in the game that is the League of Assassins and that world. That obviously changed up until we had that scene happen between her and Jason, I was grossed out and I didn’t understand why that had happened which leads me to what you said next in your ask.

“His explanation for why he did it was that Jason loves Talia and that they were both messed up people”.

This is a part of the interview where Judd Winick answered a question about Jason and Talia sleeping together. The interview was done by Sara Lima in ComicVine’s podcast.

“SL: Why did you decide to write the romantic scene between Jason and Talia in Lost Days?

JW: For those playing at home, Jason Todd, at the end of Red Hood: Lost Days, and Talia slept together. I did that because it was really disturbing and to shine a light on the fact that these are not really well people. A lot of people didn’t like that, which was correct. “You weren’t supposed to like that. That was supposed to be, ‘oh God, stop that, what are you doing?’ It really was. As well as, for Talia, her reasons, being that Bruce had wound up inadvertently killing her father and she was ragingly angry with him and went from love to pure hate and still loving him at the same time. And Jason, given the opportunity to have sex with just about the only woman who Bruce has had sex with or really cares about, ‘Yeah, I’ll go there.’

SL: He’s like, ‘yeah, cause I hate that guy.’

JW: Yeah! ‘I hate that guy!’ And I think that Jason probably had the hots for Talia. She’s hot, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of relationships going on – It’s not a good thing for either of them. These are two people who murder people, two people who are screwed up, screwed up emotionally. There’s this question that why would he do that and Talia only loves Bruce. She might only love Bruce, but she does have sex with other people because that’s just sex. And we’re all grown-ups here. I think those who shake their fist and get angry at this kind of thing might be some of our older readers. I’m an older reader, but I acknowledge the fact that people aren’t that chaste and grow up: people have sex. That’s why I ended it like that; It was messed up.

Maybe it was in another interview or something but this is the only time that I have seen Winick talk about that and I don’t think he mentioned Jason loving Talia but he did say said that “These are two people who murder people, two people who are screwed up, screwed up emotionally”.

When I looked it up, I found that someone that is described as screwed up is a person that is “emotionally disturbed”. That description is one that I feel is valid for both Jason and Talia at the time, they both had a lot going on and were fighting some demons so maybe it’s not a nice thing to say but I can’t say that the statement isn’t true. Or at least that’s how I see it.

When I came across that interview for the first time, I wasn’t expecting Winick to apologise for writing that interaction but I did want an explanation so after he said, “A lot of people didn’t like that, which was correct. “You weren’t supposed to like that. That was supposed to be, ‘oh God, stop that, what are you doing?’ It really was” and “for Talia, her reasons, being that Bruce had wound up inadvertently killing her father and she was ragingly angry with him and went from love to pure hate and still loving him at the same time. And Jason, given the opportunity to have sex with just about the only woman who Bruce has had sex with or really cares about, ‘Yeah, I’ll go there.’”

I felt like that was enough, granted I didn’t like it and I still don’t like it but I don’t see it as Winick writing something disturbing with evil intentions, I just see it as him writing these two morally grey people doing some very morally grey stuff.

This is not me saying that this is how things have to be taken, I know and understand many people who absolutely don’t like this at all and that’s valid. I am not here to change your mind about that, personally when I read the why he wrote that I felt like that explanation was enough but that is just me.

“I feel like he was a one-hit-wonder because ever since UtRH his Jason story started to go downhill”

I think Winick was only meant to write Jason’s comeback to comics, around the time he was writing Outsiders and Green Arrow. And there was also the “Infinite Crisis” (Winick wasn’t involved with that one) event going on in the middle that explained some stuff like how Jason was resurrected which was explored in Batman Annual #25 in 2006 (like a year after the UtRH book had come out and it was also written by Winick). Then with the popularity of the UtRH book the animated movie was made (written by Judd Winick) and because that was coming out DC allowed Winick to write the six-issue mini of Red Hood: The Lost Days in 2010.

The UtRH story didn’t go downhill, DC simply couldn’t handle that level of mature storytelling at the time, just after that event ended DC was already planning on changing stuff and then the New 52 came years later.

Winick’s Jason even made an appearance in Outsiders #44-46, there Red Hood wanted to help the Outsiders break out a good man (Black Lightning) out of prison because he hadn’t killed anyone (it had actually been Slade). Jason/Red Hood’s characterization and story going downhill wasn't on Winick, it was on DC and their lack of interest in making their characters complex and dual.

“DC doesn’t know how to write a character that’s from a poor background and that’s a huge disservice to Jason”

Absolutely. But in my case, I do think that Winick did work with Jason’s background very well. To me, he set a path and no one could follow it but I might also be horribly wrong.

-

I also hope that Rosenberg does an amazing job! I absolutely love his work, as I have said before he is super funny and isn’t scared of writing characters who kill. I feel like he will bring back the sarcastic little shit that Jason once was but he will also bring back that sense of seriousness and dedication that Jason has for the work that he is doing. Rosenberg even showed us some of that in that prelude to Task Force Z in Detective Comics, I absolutely recommend them if you haven’t read them, issues #1041 and #1042 were the ones with that backup story.

I can see that we have very different opinions but that’s just a part of the comic world, we all perceive these comics differently and that’s valid! I am glad you enjoy reading my posts and I hope that even though we have those different opinions you were still able to enjoy my answer! If you think that I misunderstood anything that you say please let me know, sometimes my brain just doesn’t click.

Hope you have a fantastic week!

[awhitehead17]

Batfam Alphabet: I - Injuries

Summary: When an offhand comment gets made about who receives the most injuries a big debate takes place to discuss this. Unable to agree on anything, the Bats decide to keep score of who gets the most injuries over the next 12 months. The results may surprise you. 

Enjoy! :D

The blissful silence within his apartment is rudely interrupted by the shrill of his phone suddenly ringing inside his pocket. Jason groans. Five minutes. Why couldn’t he just get five minutes of peace? Was that so much to ask for?

Cursing every god imaginable, Jason digs through his pocket until he finds and receives the device before scowling upon seeing the caller ID. Answering the call, he brings it up to his ear and doesn’t hesitate to snap a greeting, making it clear he isn’t pleased about being disturbed. “What do you want?”

“So there’s been a situation…” a hesitant voice speaks up on the other side of the phone.

Jason reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose. That sentence alone is enough to start giving him a headache.

“How the fuck is there a situation? I left you guys not even fifteen minutes ago! I thought you were heading back to the cave?”

“Yeah, we were, but on the way back we heard gun shots and we found a gang fight happening. We intervened but while fighting Nightwing unfortunately got stabbed.”

Being told his brother has been stabbed makes Jason pause. There’s a remark on the end of his tongue that desperately wants to slip out but he doesn’t know if this is the right time for it. The tone of voice on the other side of the line makes it difficult to determine how serious the situation is.

“How bad is it?”

“Oh not that bad!” Tim chirps, Jason could now hear the amusement lacing his tone. “It’s just a stab wound on the thigh, more of a scratch than anything. Won’t need stitches or nothing. I figured I’d ring you to let you know because this now changes the board.”

Jason breathes out a long sigh and feels the tension leave his body. At least it’s not life threatening. This fucking family, he swears to God, if he hadn’t already been sent to an early grave he certainly would be now.

“So it’s enough to warrant a mark on the board?” Jason questions eagerly, already knowing what impact the answer will have. Now he knows it’s not serious he can think about other things.

“Oh yeah definitely.” Tim claims and Jason could easily hear the smile in his voice. “Even when it happened he muttered a curse and mentioned how it’s unfair because that now puts you ahead of him.”

At that Jason cackles. He bids his brother a goodbye before hanging up. Still laughing Jason moves through his apartment to his kitchen, digging through one of the draws he pulls out a large whiteboard and makes the needed changes to it.

This is something they all came up with at the start of the year from an offhand comment about who gets the most/least injuries out of their family. The comment triggered off a big debate and the result of it was to keep score of who gets the most injuries in the next 12 months.

They do not count life threatening injuries, because believe it or not they are not assholes and it wouldn’t be fair or even funny. Any minor injury can count (or at least minor for them). Any injuries done outside of the costume also count.

There are only a couple months left of the year but it’s currently pretty tight between most of them. Surprisingly Steph is winning with the least number of injuries so far. Following her, again surprisingly, is Damian. After him is Harper, Duke, Tim and then Jason. With his new injury today that puts Dick in last place, officially making Jason second to last. They hadn’t included Cass because firstly she didn’t want to be involved and secondly anytime she does get injured, which is extremely rare, it’s usually serious, so they collectively decided to not have Cass participate. Babs wasn’t interested and made it very clear on what her opinions of the competition was.

Before the new injury, Jason and Dick were in joint last place. His older brother now sustaining a new non-life-threatening injury changes the board. Jason couldn’t be happier, now he just has to make sure to not get injured at all in the next couple of months.

That in itself will be a challenge, but one not to be beaten easily Jason is up for it. He doesn’t care where he comes on the board, just as long as he beats Dick that’s all that matters.

---------

Like most of the year, the last few months fly by and before Jason knows it, it’s New Year’s Eve and he’s attending a party with all of his friends and family.

While the party is being hosted at Wayne Manor, so somewhere familiar, there’s tension in the air which can be felt no matter where you go. To most it’s probably the anticipation of midnight approaching, that excitement that comes along with the clock striking twelve and the supposedly start of something new.

To Jason, however, it’s a count down until the results are revealed.

Jason has a vague idea of what the final results are going to be, after all he kept track of everything himself. Then again, it’s vague because he’s been away on a mission for the last three weeks only having gotten back two days ago. He hasn’t yet had a chance to catch up with everything that may have happened in those weeks he had been gone. For all he knows the board may have changed significantly and he wouldn’t have a clue.

Not long before midnight, Jason soon finds himself in the library with his siblings and friends. They’re scattered around the room sitting on the sofas and the floor with the news on in the background.

Cass stands front and center with a white board in hand ready to announce the results of who has sustained the least and the greatest number of injuries in the past year. They asked Cass to announce it as she hadn’t taken part, that way it’s fair and not biased.

Looking around the room Jason could see a variety of facial expression on his siblings faces. Some wearing smirks, like they know exactly what the results are, while other’s wear an expression of anticipation, clearly unsure on where they’ve come on the board.

Cass announces the names in ascending order, starting with last place first. To Jason’s absolute delight, Dick is in last place. He’s so happy to hear that he had beaten his brother in getting less injuries than him in a year. Dick simply sends Cass a tight smile and nod, obviously knowing he had lost before anything was declared.

After Dick is Jason. If he’s being honest, Jason is actually happier about that than the principle of being second to last, he beat Dick and that’s all that mattered. He certainly made sure Dick was aware of his delight.

After Jason is Duke, followed by Steph which was a surprise considering she had been in first for a really long time. Apparently she had a bad couple of months, reckless behaviour and stupid mistakes eventually added to her total therefore dropping her down the leader board.

Taking third place is Damian. Jason looks over at where he’s sat and he finds the kid fuming, clearly unhappy with his final position. In second place is Tim, which seems to surprise almost everyone, including Tim himself. The teenager sits on the sofa looking completely baffled but thrilled at the news. That finally leaves Harper taking first place as the person to have the least number of injuries in the past year. She jumps up to her feet yelling with joy and dancing around the room excitedly.

After the scores are announced Cass gives out little awards just as something extra which makes it all the more entertaining.

The most out-of-costume injuries award goes to Tim, who instantly claims that most of his injuries are because his best friends are meta’s and because he skateboards. No one believes the excuses however they don’t call him out on it.

The most ridiculous injury goes to Dick, who then explains how he got said injury. Apparently he miscalculated a jump when chasing someone and ended up scraping his side on a metal bin. Everyone stares at him after that story, wondering how such an experienced vigilante and acrobat even does that.

The most badass injury goes to Steph. She had gotten into a fist fight in the middle of the mall after some guys started shouting out vulgar language. Not taking any of their shit Steph beat them all to a pulp but not without taking some collateral damage herself. That award felt well deserved though it could have gone to someone else.

After wrapping up their competition they all decide to stay in the library and chill. They cheer for the new year when the clock strikes twelve and all exchange “happy new year’s.” They don’t go adventuring out to the party again which inevitably leads to Bruce hunting for them, out of worry or suspicion Jason’s not sure but when his adoptive father eventually walks into the library he’s met with a loud chorus of greetings

Bruce studies the group with narrowed eyes in suspicion. He meets each of their gazes before straightening up and leveling them all a glare.

“What’s going on? I haven’t seen any of you in a few hours only to find you all gathered in here, not fighting may I add. What have you done?”

Dick’s the first to respond. Being the oldest of the group he probably feels inclined to, especially when no one else offers up an explanation. “Wow Bruce, give us a benefit of the doubt would you, we’re simply enjoying being with one another for a change. New year and all that. Who knows, this may the start of something new.”

Bruce’s disbelieving expression conveys perfectly what he thinks of that explanation.

The room falls silent as they all stare at one another. Gestures and nods are shared between them as they try to get someone else to speak up but everyone stays silent, no one saying a peep. They never told Bruce about the competition; they really don’t know how the man would take the news but they’re all certain it wouldn’t be taken well. He definitely wouldn’t see the funny side of the whole thing, even if they explain the rules to it and how they’re not actually assholes and wouldn’t include life threatening wounds to the count.

In the end it doesn’t matter because eventually Bruce puts his hands up and shakes his head. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Whatever it is just keep it to yourselves and if you make a mess, clean it up. The less I know the better.”

With no more words Bruce turns around and leaves the room. For several moments after the man’s sudden departure they each exchange baffled looks, silently questioning what just happened. It stays like that for a while until several members of the family simultaneously shrug. The action causes an eruption of laughter and all of them end up cackling until they couldn’t breathe and had tears running down their faces.

[faeriejukyung]

True Beauty’s Gaping Mother Wound

*disclaimer*: I understand that all the listed traits are things which are often very common in Asian households, and it may seem that rather than being concerning, these are just a part of Asian culture. That is why, I feel that it’s necessary for me to make it clear that I am, in fact, Asian (Indian to be specific), and parental abuse is something that is extremely normalized here. As someone who has experienced it firsthand, I want to say that just because something is common/normal, doesn’t necessarily mean that it is correct. If you or anyone you know is in a situation like that, it’s very very important to speak out. And it’s not your fault, i know it’s easier to believe that way but it’s really not. We deserve to be in a loving environment, regardless of what culture we are born in.

Throughout the drama, Jukyung’s mother shows many traits of an abusive mother. I have been able to outline 4 of them. I don’t mean to write her off as an evil character,, because overall she is well intentioned, and just like any other mom, she does love Jukyung. This is shown in episode 8 too, where she shows remorse for her actions. That however, doesn’t justify her abusive behavioral patterns in any way. Because we can see how badly it affects Jukyung, her self esteem and her overall view of herself.

-

Act 1: “I’m going to kill you today and go to jail” -- Physical Violence.

Throughout the series, we see Jukyung's mother being very violent. But one scene which particularly stood out to me was the scene where she finds out about Jukyung's dad getting scammed. (in episode 1). While it is true that her dad caused a huge financial loss to the family, and anyone would feel angry in a situation like that, it is also true that there is never a good reason to physically abuse someone.

After hearing the news, Jukyung's mom is overcome by anger. It's completely okay to feel frustrated, but the way she violently jumped at her husband, clearly intentioned to hurt him, and the way she needed to be held back by juyoung and heekyung highlights her abusive nature. And this isn't a one time thing where she momentarily lost control of herself. She constantly shows similar behavioural traits throughout the drama.

In the scene where we see Jukyung's mom and dad together properly for the first time, their relationship dynamic is established. He's meekly massaging her shoulders while she orders him around. Their is an obvious power imbalance in the relationship, and the way Jukyung's dad cowers in fear around Jukyung's mom is a proof of that.

-

Act 2: "Why would you kill my precious son?" -- Conditional Love.

We see examples of Jukyung’s Mom’s conditional love in the kdrama AND in the webtoon. Conditional love is when a parent or a parental figure makes their child compete for love. They withhold their affection until the kid acts in ways that are desirable to them, and if the kid fails to do so, the parent often punishers them through different methods. This is their way of maintaining control over their children.

Jukyung’s Mom’s conditional love manifests itself in the form of favoritism towards her eldest daughter Heekyung, who’s not only conventionally beautiful but also very smart and has a high paying job, and towards her youngest child and only son, Juyoung, who is also written to be very attractive. Both Juyoung and Heekyung have gifts that Jukyung does not posses -- beauty and brains. The conditions that are established in order to attain their mother’s affection are getting good grades at school, and being conventionally attractive, which is why Jukyung often gets the shorter end of the stick

In the scene where we are first meet Heekyung is the drama, their mom’s affection towards her is very evident.

This is shown in the webtoon too.

She displays this favoritism towards Juyoung too, and even more so. In episode 1 where Jukyung tries makeup for the first time, and gets ridiculed by him for doing a bad job at it, she naturally feels angry and yells at him, “do you want to die?!”, but instead of telling Juyoung to stop, their mother yells at Jukyung for yelling at Juyoung (”why would you kill my precious son? why?”). It’s already very evident that Juyoung has picked up the habit of constantly taunting Jukyung for her face from his mom. In the webtoon, when Jukyung decides that she wants to pursue makeup arts and asks for her mom’s support and fees for academy, her mom flat-out refuses, saying that they don’t have enough money. However as we find out later, money wasn’t the problem, because she had enough money to send Juyoung to a cram school for acting.

I find it hard to believe that any good parent would constantly compare their children and pit them against each other like this. In the webtoon and the kdrama, it is made clear that Juyoung doesn’t have particularly good grades either, but he doesn’t have to face his mother’s wrath by the virtue of being good looking. Jukyung on the other hand, does not have any redeeming qualities.

-

Act 3: “I’m going to throw all your makeup away” --Excessive Anger.

Another sign of parental abuse is display of excessive anger. It’s usually used as an intimidation tactic to keep the child in line. Sometimes, it can simply happen because they lose control of themselves. Either way, parents who get angry more often than what is supposed to be normal, and hurt their children (physically or verbally) in the midst of their anger, repeatedly, are abusive. I feel like I don’t even need to elaborate on this one. Jukyung’s Mom is angry during half of her scenes. And the way she acts upon that anger crosses the limit too. Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to express your the way you feel, but the way Jukyung’s Mom does it, is extremely unhealthy and hurtful to others around her. Whether she’s jumping on Jukyung’s dad or talking down on Im Jukyung, she’s very inconsiderate of how her anger affects others. She almost always expresses herself in an extremely volatile way.

Jukyung described makeup as a hopeful light opening up a new life for her. There’s even a whole music segment of her discovering the powers of makeup, characterized by pastel and bubblegum tones, and the segment has a magical feel to it. Suffice to say that makeup brought an almost magical kind of hope and optimism to her life. In episode 6, Jukyung's Mom goes to her school to get her report card. When she sees her low grades, she gets so angry that she threatens to throw away her makeup, without once considering why Jukyung is so attached to it. In my eyes, she's actually very similar to Soojin's dad who also uses intimidation and physical violence to keep his daughter in line. If we put the same background music for the scenes where we see Jukyung's Mom threatening her, as the ones where Soojin's dad abuses her, they'd practically be identical. The only difference is that the show often plays Jukyung's Mom's behavior as a joke.

In episode 7, after seeing that Jukyung didn't improve as much as she wanted her to, she actually threw away all her makeup. Even though Jukyung did try, and did improve, it still wasn't enough for her mom. Jukyung's restlessness after not seeing her makeup on her table was palpable through the screen. Finding out that her mother threw all her makeup away sort became her breaking point. We see her yell at her mother and express her feelings for the first time.

I think it's important to note that Jukyung, who's already finds it very tough to reach out to her courageous side, was inspired by this incident to stand up to her mom, to express her outrage. Saying that makeup meant a lot to her is an understatement.

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Act 4: "What's the point of looking beautiful with all that makeup on if you're ugly underneath?" -- Verbal Abuse.

We all get into arguments with our parents from time to time, and I’m sure we’ve all been yelled at by them at some point. Verbal abuse however, is not something that is normal, and the two shouldn’t be confused. A parent who constantly humiliates their child, yells and screams at them, talks down on them is in simple terms, an abuser. 

In episode 1, when Jukyung tries makeup on for the first time and goes to school, she gets ridiculed by her bullies and her classmates. Crestfallen, she returns back home after school and goes to her mother for reassurance. Instead of providing that, her mother ridicules her even more and calls her makeup “Ghost Makeup”. This is something abusers often do. Under the guise of teasing the victim, they often attack the victim’s self esteem, appearance etc, to make them feel insecure and to maintain their position of power over them. Jukyung’s mother isn’t very different from those bullies who told Jukyung that she was ugly and made her feel like she could never amount to anything. 

Another example that irks me a lot is from episode 3, when Jukyung’s Mom is chewing her out for being late, and suddenly the conversation turns to cosmetics and makeup. This is also one of the traits of verbal abuse. Instead of arguments surrounding the basic issue, they branch out and turn into character assassination. Her mom accuses Jukyung of wasting all her time on makeup instead of studying, even when Jukyung clarifies that she got late because she missed her bus, not because she was out buying cosmetics. But her mom doesn't listen and says to her, “What’s the point of looking beautiful with all that makeup on when you’re still ugly underneath?” 

Jukyung’s face after hearing her own mother say that was heartbreaking. Unfortunately, this type of mother-daughter relationship dynamic isn’t something  that is rare. Mothers frequently project their own insecurities on their daughters and put them down. Jukyung’s Mother’s behavior explains her self esteem issues, it gives an insight about where her insecurities really stem from. Sometimes our abuser’s thoughts and image of us start maligning our own self image. Frequently hearing them tell us that we are worthless, and that no one will ever marry us or love us, makes us believe that we are in fact, worthless and incapable of being loved unless we change something about ourselves. We frequently get an insight into how Jukyung thinks of herself throughout the drama. 

“It’s not my fault that I was born dumb” (In episode 7, after finding out that her mother threw away her makeup.)

“You know that I’m messed up” (In episode 2, referring to her face, while asking Lee Suho to keep her bare face a secret)

The drama is yet to end so I don’t want to completely write Jukyung’s Mother off as an abuser. I hope she becomes a better mom in the show, I really do. Because Jukyung deserves a loving mother. And Jukyung's mom does in fact have a few redeeming qualities, however, simply love and caring isn’t enough, you need mutual respect, reassurance and effort in each every relationship. We know that Jukyung’s mother is also often labelled as an ugly woman, and she believes that she could only get by through studying well. (“It’s going to be okay as long as you study well” - episode 1). In a world where a woman either has to a exceptionally beautiful to be considered worthy, or be exceptionally intelligent and professional lest she isn’t blessed by beauty, it’s very easy to internalize self hatred and direct it on to other individuals (especially if those individuals are your children). That is why i genuinely find myself rooting for Jukyung’s mother and hoping for a character development arc -- because i understand where she comes from, and because i can empathize with her. 

-

Fin.

[procrastination-queenie]

Baby | JJK

Pairing: husband!au Jeon Jungkook x Wife!au reader.

Warning: c-section surgery, nothing too detailed. Baby fever. Very slight mention of smut. Fluff. The reader is a foreigner. Mentions of cultural differences.

The part written in italics is a flashback

Synopsis: You and Jungkook agreed not to have babies right away after your marriage, yet you find yourself witnessing a cute situation that leaves you thinking otherwise.

A/N: I am begging you guys for the gazillion time to please let me know what you think. Thanks in advance.😊

Word count: 4,178.

This part can be read as a continuation to Marry you.

Babies! Oh God! You cannot express how fed up you were because of that word. After you and Jungkook got married, your family members had nothing to talk about to you except babies. It's like they were pressuring you, well scratch that, they were, but unconsciously though. You couldn't blame them. You grew up in a culture that was not really open to the idea of "we are gonna wait a few years until we feel like we're ready."! Yeah, this ideology does not exist!

"Wait until when? I am not living more than I already am!" Your grandma would say, or "wait for what? Are you still getting to know each other after a five-year relationship?" Your grandpa would scoff, and your favourite one was "Hunny, are you kidding? You'll never be ready! No one is ever really ready! … You think me and my sister had you, kids, because we were ready?" Your auntie would say in disbelief laughing lightly at your logic with said sister, your mum, sitting next to her shaking her head in disappointment with a "can you believe her?" murmured in annoyance.

You didn't have the heart to blame your family that's how they were raised for generations, and for you to try and change their mind-set would be difficult, almost impossible. That is until you and Jungkook refused to talk upon the matter anymore saying that this is your life and you're free to do whatever you both agree on, only then did they stop nagging you; however, you knew they were not happy about it.

Jungkook on the other hand never really minded the idea of babies, in fact, if you told him that you were ready, he would gladly help you right away, if you know what I mean, but knowing your concerns, not only did he comfort you, but also respected that you were not there yet, mentally. You would always tell him "I sometimes think that I am still a baby, myself. How can I have one when I think like that!" He would chuckle, patting your head and cuddling you closely "Baby, it's okay. We don't need to have one right now! Why are you so worried about it?" He asked looking down at you since he was resting his chin on your head. "I mean, aren't you bothered about it? Don't you want to have your own child?" You pouted thinking that maybe you're holding one of Jungkook's wishes back which can make you feel that you're not good enough for him. "Well, baby, of course, I want a child, but I want to have it with you, and if you're not ready that's totally fine! I mean when I think about it, it is a huge deal, you're going to house a human being in your body for 9 long months, and your body would go through drastic changes, plus you'd have to not only take care of yourself but the baby growing inside you, as well!" Jungkook cradled you to his chest moving aside a lock of your hair behind your ear. "It's all amazing, but you're the one who's carrying a baby, I would never pressure you to do that if you're not ready!" He said looking into your eyes sincerely. "Oh, I love you so much!" You said giving him a few repetitive pecks on his lips. "How did I end up with such an amazing man!" Your lips barely meeting his, whispering before you closed the small gap between you, kissing him with all the passion and love you held for this wonderful husband of yours.

That all changed when one day you were at the hairdresser's getting a new hair cut. You were looking through your phone waiting for your turn until you noticed a woman entering the shop. She had this unusual aura to her, like something about her seemed to interest you, she walked around as if she had accomplished something amazing but wouldn't brag about it as if to let her accomplishment speak for itself. You understood why you felt that because minutes later, two identical accomplishments followed her suit. They were two identical boys who were probably 4 or 5 years of age. You were in awe when you saw them following their mummy, like lost puppies. They resembled her greatly, and behaved very well as if their mum promised to buy them Disneyland if they did. They stood next to her looking up at her as if she is their whole world.

For a moment you imagined that with Jungkook, and what would it feel like to have a baby in both of your lives. How would it feel to have a child of your own looking at you the way these boys looked at their mum.

For weeks to follow, you were almost obsessed with the twin boys you saw at the hair salon. How they dressed, how they behaved, how they sat obediently eating their sweets waiting for their mum to finish, how their mother would look at them through the mirror every once in a while to check on them, how they cutely complimented her saying that "mummy is the prettiest girl ever!" With wide eyes looking up in amazement and cute small sticky fingers from the sweets reaching up in the air in excitement. The whole thing kept repeating over and over in your head which led you to look up some photos of babies and reading more about them and what's new in the parenting world that parents try and apply with their kids. You even reached the point where you would stop at the babies section, racking through cute onesies, making Jungkook arch an eyebrow in amazement. "Are you pregnant or something?" He would ask eyeing your belly before looking up at your face trying to see what's going on inside your head. You would shake your head slightly before reluctantly letting go of the tiny baby clothes and taking Jungkook's hand to move to another department of the store.

Jungkook, too, could feel a change in your behaviour, like how you would gaze longingly at kids playing at the park when you had your picnics there, how you would pause to listen to a show that talks about babies and how to care for them, he even caught you reading a book about pregnancy. His heart skipped a beat when you went to visit your brother after his wife delivered a healthy baby girl; you kept holding her the whole time refusing to let anyone hold her unless it was your brother's wife because she needed to feed her. He even took a photo of you, you were looking at your niece so lovingly when you looked up at Jungkook smiling brightly as if she was your own. He put it as a background for his phone.

"Yaaah! If you want a baby that bad make one of your own!" Yoongi yelled playfully at Jungkook who wouldn't stop looking at the photo. "Ay! Don't pressure the kid." Namjoon said looking disappointedly at Yoongi for saying that. "Well, there's no pressure. It's just … I don't know y/n has been acting weird lately!" He took a last look at his phone's background before it displayed his worried features as he closed the screen. "What do you mean weird?" Jimin asked looking at Jungkook quizzically. "I don't know… it's… she'd stare at baby clothes when we go shopping even though there's no one we know who's going to give birth soon. I mean I could have brushed it off thinking that she wants to buy some as a gift or something, but no." Jungkook ruffled his black locks resting his elbows on his knees. "And you know she looks at them as if … as if she's imaging them on a certain baby, not the way she'd look at them as if inspecting the design or something, do you understand what I mean?" He looked up at his hyungs waiting for a confirmation that he's not imagining things. Namjoon nodded "you mean she inspecting the clothes as if she's buying it for her own baby, not just going through them?"

"YES!"Taehyung jumped at Jungkook's sudden outburst. "Sorry Hyung!" Jungkook muttered to Taehyung before focusing on Namjoon again. "Well, it's easy she wants a baby!" Hobi said shrugging and looking at Jungkook as if he's dumb and that this was as obvious as the sun. "No shit Sherlock! I know that. It's just she never said anything about it ." Jungkook was bewildered he didn't understand your sudden change of attitude, and if you had a change of heart about having a baby, then why didn't you tell him? "Just talk to her about it. See if she's ready or not, maybe she is, but something is holding her back, you never know!" Jin said patting Jungkook on the back. "we are definitely having a talk." Jungkook sighed lighting up his phone's screen to look lovingly at your photo holding your niece.

"Baby, you home?" Jungkook looked around the house for you while taking off his shoes and closing the door. "In here!" You answered from your bedroom. You heard his footsteps on the stairs knowing very well from the sound of it that he was skipping some. You rolled your eyes at your husband's child-like behaviour. "BABE!" He suddenly opened the door to your room, a huge smirk on his face as he stepped slowly towards you. "What? What's wrong? Why are you giving me that look?" You looked him up and down as if he's gone mental. Out of nowhere, he pounced on you like a cat making you put your book aside as you squirmed beneath him. "Oh my God, Kook get off. What's wrong with you!" You started laughing because he started leaving small pecks on your neck, and it was ticklish. "Tell me!" He suddenly stopped and looked into your eyes. "Tell you what?" You searched his face thinking that he might be drunk. "Tell me what you're not telling me!" He said, face getting closer to yours as you backed yours from his. "Are you drunk?" You said laughing, again. He was being unusual. "Nah, I am not. I just want to know what's wrong. Lately, you've been acting weird as if you're hiding something." He claimed as he sat beside you, taking you in his arms as your upper half laid on his bent knee; this was your position when you both had deep talks, he'd let you rest your back on his bent knee as he held you closely, usually playing with your hair locks. "You keep on checking baby clothes whenever we go shopping, you're reading a book about pregnancy and parenting, you listen to anything related to babies on the T.V. are you not telling me something?" He asked with concern filling his doe eyes as he caressed your cheek. "I … I've..." You sighed closing your eyes; words were not getting out of your mouth. "What? What is it baby? You can tell me." His thumb brushed your cheek in a soft motion encouraging you to speak up. "I … I want a baby." You said out of nowhere and looked at Jungkook to see his reaction. "Well, baby that's great. You know I don't mind, then what stopped you from telling me?" Jungkook flashed you his bunny smile, happy to know that you're ready to take this step with him. "It... It's just, you know I have been reading about it, pregnancy and stuff." He nodded, a sign for you to go on. "And it's all great and everything, but what if something went wrong?" You looked worriedly into your husband's confused eyes. "Like what if I have a miscarriage? What if something happens to the baby? Like what if …"

"Hold on, hold on … baby why are you trying to predict everything? Why can't you focus on the positive side?" He said trying to calm your raging thoughts. "What if my body is not strong enough to have a baby?"

"Baby,nooo!" Jungkook pulled you closer into his arms. "No, none of this is going to happen, we are going to keep checking up with a doctor, and everything will be fine. I'll always be by your side." He said pulling your head under his chin, then he pulled back to look you in the eyes, "and even if something happens, We will go through it together. I know it will be harder for you, but I swear that there's nothing in this life that could be offered to help you lessen your pain that I won't do it." He whispered sincerely, holding your face between his big warm hands. You hugged him tightly, "I love you so much, I don't even know what I did to deserve you!" You said crying over the fact that a man like Jungkook existed, a man who's willing to do anything for you. "Ah, baby I love you, too so much. I don't want you to doubt us or the future. You know why?" He chuckled feeling you shake your head. "Because the future is never guaranteed, but the only thing that is guaranteed is us, and I know that we're strong enough to face anything life throws at us, together." He said hugging you tighter. "Okay, baby?" He pulled back to look at you. You nodded as he wiped away your tears. "Now, about that baby..." He smirked as you laughed at his goofiness. He always knew how to make you laugh. Always.

Now fast forward a few years, you and Jungkook are parents now. It didn't take that long to get pregnant thanks to Jungkook's stamina. Your pregnancy went on smoothly and nothing bad happened. Just as Jungkook promised, he was always right there for you, for everything; from the moment you both found out, to birth-giving, till now. Speaking of which, the poor thing was so terrified when he knew that your doctor would perform a C-section and that you wouldn't be giving birth naturally.

"Is she supposed to be awake during the surgery?" Jungkook worriedly asked the doctor as he could see that the medication they have given you were not putting you to sleep. "Oh don't worry, Mr Jeon. She won't feel a thing, we drugged the part that we will be working on, and it's normal for her to be awake." Your Doctor smiled kindly at him knowing that this was his first time undergoing something like this. Jungkook was dressed in scrubs holding your hand to keep you from panicking, the doctor also hung up something like a sheet in front of you so you won't see them perform the surgery. "Are you okay?" Jungkook whispered, trying to make small conversation with you as you kept looking at him. You nodded still looking at him as he was getting more anxious by the minute because of your intense staring, "Jungkook why are you panicking, I am the one who's having her stomach open, not you." He laughed squeezing your hand, his nerves easing a bit. "How are you so cool with this?"

"I don't think me panicking right now, would do us any good, you know." Jungkook chuckled then kissed your forehead.

An hour has already passed by when they informed you that you delivered and that the surgery was almost over, they needed to stitch you up. "Jungkook go with the nurse!" You said urgently turning to look at him. "No baby, it's okay, your mum and my mum are waiting outside, I'll wait with you here." He said calming you down, he promised that he won't leave your side until you both get out of the surgery's room together. "But, this means that they'll know!" Jungkook chuckled at your worried expression. "It's okay baby, let them know." He said kissing your forehead. "You did great, and I am so proud of you!" He was tearing up because he could not understand how women could go through all of this, he was truly amazed. "I love you." You said looking into his teary eyes, "I love you, too baby so much!" He pecked your lips before the doctor announced that you were good to go.

It definitely wasn't easy, but with Jungkook there, everything was better.

Right now, you and Jungkook were asleep in each other's arms, appreciating the few hours of silence before everything turns back to its chaotic state in the morning. Since you've given birth, you could swear that you became a light sleeper. Your mum brushed off your marvellous discovery with a laugh claiming that it's normal for most mums to become light sleepers because you're always worried.

Just like now, your ears perked as you felt tiny footsteps softly padding towards your bedroom. And you were right, as you slowly turned in Jungkook's arms, so not to wake him up, you found your 3-year-old, Haneul, standing quietly by the door, sucking on his thumb and trying to search for you in the dark. "Haneul, baby I am here." You whispered and got up to see what's wrong. He padded softly towards you in his Stitch Kigurumi onesies that he insisted you buy from your last trip to Disneyland because that's his favourite character. "Oh baby what's wrong." You picked him up and held him in your arms cradling him as if to protect him from all the world's evil. You already knew what's wrong, he needed to change his diaper. "Come on baby, let's go to your room, daddy's still asleep." You left the room quietly hoping not to wake Jungkook up.

Haneul whimpered lightly in your arms seeing that he was irritated because of his diaper and he was still super sleepy. "Okay baby I'll change it for you, just please be quiet, your brother is still sleeping!" You prayed than Haneul won't throw a fit and wake up his twin, Hyun, from his sleep. It was too early to wake up the whole household right now.

"There, all done!" You whispered enthusiastically as he flashed a bunny-like grin at you just like his father. "Thanks, mummy." He grinned shaking his body cutely from side to side still laying on the changing table. "Anything for you baby!" You dived your head to his stomach attacking him with kisses as he squirmed beneath you. "Come on let's get you back to bed." You said putting him back in his crib and giving him a goodnight kiss. Before you could shut the door to the boys' room, you saw Haneul still standing in his crib giving you puppy eyes as he whimpered. You heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of your baby in discomfort. He wanted to sleep with you and Jungkook, but you can't let them get used to it. "Mummy!" Haneul whimpered reaching his tiny arms out for you. You sighed, your heart was too weak to leave him alone in the dark, you just couldn't do it. His eyes were starting to tear up as you went up to him. "God, you guys are my weakness." You muttered to yourself. As you were about to pick Haneul up, Hyun started to turn in his sleep, slowly waking up. Another pair of doe eyes slowly opened up, fluttering due to the dark smooth locks that were getting in its way. "Mummy!" You sighed great now both of them are awake and they will refuse to go back to sleep in their cribs.

Jungkook woke up to an empty bed, he jolted awake thinking you must be with the kids and that you might need his help, but didn't wake him up. He walked to the kids' bedroom to see you holding Haneul in your arms with him sucking on his thumb, drowsy eyes fighting sleep as you looked at Hyun who was carefully climbing out of his bed. "Careful baby!" You seemed to be fine, but your voice told otherwise, it was laced with worry, fearing that his leg might slip and he would get hurt. Hyun climbed down carefully then went up to you tugging on your nightdress and whimpering grumpily. Jungkook entered the room, "come here, buddy." He said scooping Hyun in his arms. "Baby, you woke up!" You frowned not liking the idea of him getting up so early. Since giving birth to your beautiful baby boys, Jungkook has put you and the boys as his top priority, and he was always there making sure you don't need anything. You didn't want him to wake up so early for once so that he could enjoy his sleep before going to the studio. "I didn't find you in my arms, so I got up to look for you." He said gazing at you lovingly. You kissed him on the cheek, he smiled and told you to go to bed with Haneul "I'll change Hyun's diaper and come right behind you." He said planting a kiss on your forehead. "Okay, baby." You said pulling Haneul closer to your chest.

A few minutes later, Jungkook and Hyun joined you and Haneul in bed. Haneul was fast asleep with his head resting on your chest, and Hyun was still awake looking up at Jungkook. "Come on buddy, go to sleep," Jungkook whispered running his fingers through Hyun's black locks that he inherited from his dad. "Appa!" Jungkook hummed softly in response. "Sing to me." Hyun traced his small fingers over Jungkook's cheek. Jungkook smiled closing his eyes for a few seconds enjoying the feeling as he started singing softly and quietly so that Hyun would go back to sleep.

You smiled, recalling all the things you've been through up until this moment. You remembered how you both were shocked when you found out you were having twins. That day was the best day of your life, you cried in happiness so much that Jungkook thought it was your hormones getting the best of you. "No... I'm just … I'm so happy." You said whipping your tears. That night you sat on the bed with Jungkook holding you in the same position that he would hold you when you're both having a deep conversation. You told him about the twins you saw that day, and how you were so fascinated by them and how they interacted with their mum. Jungkook smiled softly at you as he rubbed your belly. You both decided that you wouldn't tell anyone that you were having twins, and that it would be a surprise to your family and friends. The shock on their faces when they entered the room to congratulate you to find each of you holding a baby was priceless.

"Oh my God, are...are... You gave birth to twins!" Your grandma said in tears astonished by the surprise. "Oh, my dear bless you." She cried as you nodded with a big smile on your face. Your mum and Jungkook's mum were the ones who were in great shock because they were the ones who were waiting in the waiting room to suddenly find two nurses coming out with two babies. "How could you not tell us something like that?" Your mum asked whipping her tears as she looked at Haneul who was sleeping soundly in Jungkook's arms. "We wanted to surprise you." Jungkook replied as your dad smiled with tears in his eyes as he kept looking between you and Jungkook. "Congratulations sweetheart!" He planted a kiss on your forehead, proud of you. "Thanks, dad."

To say that the boys were shocked is an understatement. Poor Hobi kept looking left and right at each baby. "What the … twins?" Jimin burst in excitement as Yoongi grinned down at Haneul and Namjoon patting Jungkook's back smiling at Haneul, too. "They're so cute!" Jimin said excitedly as you handed him Hyun. "Careful, hyung!" Jungkook said worriedly, eyes watching Jimin like a hawk. "Look at our Jungkookie being a protective father," Jin said laughing with Taehyung bursting in laughter.

The boys kept pampering your kids to no end. Jin and Jungkook would even make sure that you and Lilly, Jin's wife, have play dates for the kids, seeing that Jin and Jungkook are the only fathers in the group. Life was treating you good with everyone surrounding you with love and care.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook whispered. You looked at Hyun to find him fast asleep. "Nothing I was just remembering the day the boys blessed us with their existence." You smiled patting Hyun's back as you lifted the blanket to his shoulder. Jungkook's eyes gleamed at you as he smiled, probably remembering that day, too. Having kids is a huge deal to any couple but with Jungkook being there as he promised, you felt that everything is alright, and you didn't have anything to worry about. You and Jungkook fell into a deep sleep holding each other's hands as both Haneul and Hyun slept soundly between the two of you.

A/N:

Haneul means heavenly 🌌

Hyun means bright or intelligent.🤓

[evilzoldyck]

Hell is Other People

Admiring the heavy rock that was tailored perfectly to match your finger in silent awe you gleamed almost as brightly as the diamond which glittered underneath the moonlight. 

You could hear the murmurs of your guests and the faint music of the orchestra playing in the background from afar as you stood in your private balcony to revere the ring that symbolised an emblem of eternal faith and affection. To be quite honest with yourself you hadn’t seen it coming, just earlier in the day you’re mulling over which dress to wear for the evening party that your partner scrupulously planned for since months, now that he had proposed to you in front of all your highly esteemed company it all made sense.

This was your engagement party. 

Pleading with a resolute ‘yes’ for an answer, the colossal baroque hall erupted into an applause at the sight of the new happily engaged couple. Wiping a few tears of joy and sharing quick loving kisses from your partner he proudly showed you around where his parents eagerly took you in as part of the family. His Mother held you tight as if you were her very own and his Father kissed the back of your hand cordially in response. You’ve never felt so welcomed before, the warmth of having a real family was one that was foreign but comforting for you.

Taking a break from meeting all the guests he had personally invited to witness his ardent declaration of love, you stood alone in the cool breeze to process all the adrenaline in blissfully. To think, engaged during a peaceful warm season, you couldn’t believe you’re going to celebrate your anniversary every year on such a beautiful weather, making a special connotation to the word summer now. 

Suddenly feeling an unwanted presence behind you, your face that was once graced with a contented smile had turned into a sour frown. You knew exactly who would turn the most happiest night of your life upside down, trailing after a bloody carpet and reigning chaos until the dawn rises. 

The harbinger of death itself, Chrollo Lucilfer.

“So he’s finally proposed,” his dark timbre voice reverberated through the quiet night, startling such a tranquil silence. “I’d congratulate you on your engagement, but I can’t say I’m quite pleased.” There were hundreds of guards your partner employed on duty at the whole premise, guarding every entrance and exit making sure to keep trespassers at bay to keep this party perfect. Though with all the security money could by at your disposal, you weren’t completely surprised someone like him could get through easily, he is the head of the spider after all, capable of going in and out wherever he pleases.

“Chrollo,” you acknowdleged him with an air of indifference, turning around to the slightly to see him dressed in a fine black suit and tie, oddly appropriate for the occasion. “Where are the rest of the troupe? Couldn’t imagine you pulling off a heist on your own.” It was true, there were many treasures such as valuable paintings and ornaments all held in a considerable amount of monetary value scattered along the place, and even then, there were hidden assets stored deep underground that even you had just learned about, or perhaps he’s come for the family’s precious heirloom?

“No need to be so tense, it’s just me tonight.” He suddenly appeared before you, holding the hand in which the engagement ring was secured onto. Smiling bitterly at the glistening jewellery, he showed no movement or even an ounce of intention to take it away from you, rather he looked to be quite pensive as he studied it with a forlorn expression. “I don’t necessarily like to intrude, but it seems that I was uninvited by your charming fiancé.” 

Taking your hand away from his cold hands without ever leaving your skeptical eyes off of his lackadaisical form, he reluctantly lets it go. “The feeling still stands.” Glaring at him with a scathing passion. “There is nothing for you to take here, nothing that you have not already seen before. Leave this people alone, they have nothing worthy of you to steal from.”

“You seem to be quite fond of them,” Chrollo commented motionlessly, closing the space even closer. “Perhaps even more than me.” A distasteful tone from him had you nearly shivering in your heels, however you needed to stand your ground you couldn’t let him ruin everything you worked so hard for. 

“I’ve let you had your fun, released you from your ties, gave you time for yourself and now what do you do? Run into the arms of another man.” He trapped you in between his body and the stone carved balustrades. “Don’t tell me I’ve been replaced,” he whispered in bitter disbelief before placating himself quickly and placed a gentle hand upon your cheek. “My dearest friend, do I really stand no chance with you? Didn’t you once held me high in the standing of your heart?”

Your throat went completely dry as he bared his unbridled affections for you. “Once,” you answered truthfully. Years before in Meteor City you both shared the same vision, the same utopian perspective of your future filled with comfort through grim determination. However as time progressed he began to stray further away from what you both shared. You watched his avarice grow beyond expectancy, stepping over bodies to get what he desired without a vestige of remorse or empathy. Time turned him to be such a monster, an unrecognisable stranger who’s oddly keeping you alive by his side. “A long time ago, but now I barely remember the traces of where I held you in such position.”

Chrollo smiled sullenly at your response, as if he was expecting the daggers of your tongue into his heart. “You’re too cruel,” he detached the palm of his hand from your soft skin. 

“I can’t help but ask after all this time.” He placed a hand against the railing, thoroughly interrogating you closely. “Was it fun, making me chase after you? Did you enjoy the idea of me grovelling for your attention, for you to spare me a simple kiss? I’ve circled the world for your heart and yet it never seems to be enough.” 

He kept the bitter quirk on his lips as he continued, “like I’m never enough.”

Gripping onto the hard stone you willed yourself not to let your knees give out. Though he didn’t show it, you could see the raging storm of emotions in his eyes, the pain and betrayal he felt when you left and the sliver of intention to hurt you. You wanted to calm him down, pacify his anger like you did before when you were both younger. However you couldn’t reward his behaviour anymore, you couldn’t be on the same side where history would echo the time in which evil was left untamed

“What is it he has that I couldn’t give you?” He spoke so softly you could feel the sincerity in his words. 

“It’s not something you could give me,” your tone as careful and gentle as ever around the capricious being. Unfortunately that set every fibre of his being on fire. 

“Do you even love him?” 

You took his challenging words as a personal affront to your integrity. “I find it hard to see if that is any of your concern.” 

“He’s nearly twice your age.” Chrollo staunchly dismissed. “I see the way you look at me, you look at me with such anger in your eyes, like I’m the lowest being to walk on earth; a vermin with no moral compass.” The warm night air suddenly turned frigid at the sound of his strained voice that was holding back such malice. “And you’re right, but what differentiates me from you is that at least I don’t lie to myself.” 

“And the worst thing is that you don’t even seem to realise it do you? You willingly use others for your own interests and discard them once you no longer had use of them. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you and I both know your true nature. You’re exactly like me- in fact you might even be worse than me, robbing people blind. I do my work in the dark but you do yours in broad daylight,” Chrollo stated. “I’m not the only monster here.”

“Don’t talk to me of hypocrisy when you value those philosophical books so much,” you angrily countered, noting how much time he spent on the ideas and theories discussed in heavy literatures such as the Leviathan. “Never have I met someone so ridiculously obsessed with Western perspectives on rules and regulations and yet completely disregards them in practice.” 

“But isn’t that what’s so appealing about it? Of course I don’t take these words as gospel when there’s so many critiques to each theory. It’s too nuanced and complex to ever rightfully regulate civil society that who could determine what I’m doing is immoral? For Hobbes I’m merely exercising my right of nature as it is ‘the liberty each man hath, to use his own power, as he will for himself, for the preservation of his own nature,’ you remember right?” He quipped, reminding you of the times he shared his esoteric books with you, engaging in meaningful and intellectual thoughts until the candle burned out. 

“I have not consented to the laws of nature and therefore I have yet to surrender my natural rights. Thus the sovereign is illegitimate to me and I’m under no obligation of the state as I have not entered in any form of contract bound by the will and rule of the sovereign. I’m not bound to any laws of this land for I do not conform to the will of others but myself. Plato’s Crito would further support his argument on the laws of consent.”

Scoffing at his misconstrued interpretation you vacantly refuted. “Hobbes also said that if there is reasonable hope in preserving peace to seek and follow it.”

“However I may think it not necessary or the best for my life to be best preserved then I may seek and use all helps and advantages of war.”

“Nevertheless all that is futile for his argument remains that the design of men is the willingness to put restraint upon themselves for a more contented life thereby. We should ultimately consent for the second law of nature requires that we should covenant for peace if others are willing.”

“If others are willing.” He repeated and stressed out the first word. “Do you remember where we lived? No person there would opt for peace, it’s every man for themselves. It is what he hypothetically calls the state of nature, a horrible nasty, brutish and short life, except it’s real. Meteor City is a lawless land and as he states that no contract could be formed in the state of nature. Thus this paradox leaves us in a perpetual natural state of mankind; war.”

“You know there’s more to philosophy than just the Leviathan, Rousseau’s Social Contract and Locke’s Second Treatise of Civil Government has a lot to say on your so called ‘freedom’. There is no advantage to stay in the state of nature, the natural progress of humanity is the establishment of a common political authority for the sake of improving our way of life.”

“Actually Locke and Hobbes states that the state diminishes our sense of freedom but is justified in doing so, by no means did they implied our freedom would be retained, and that, is what I don’t find an improvement.”

“Rousseau would disagree with you, the state is a necessary condition of our freedom for the sovereign is the construction of all through the general will and so is directly exercised by the citizenry. Therefore, this eliminates the tension between political authority and individual freedom.” You sighed, “Chrollo even if you wanted to retain individual autonomy over yourself you’d surely remember Mill’s first sentence on the harm principle, ‘the only freedom which deserves the name is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to attain it.’ In other words, as long as you don’t harm others you can do whatever the fuck you like, but you seem to struggle with that concept of freedom don’t you?”

He suddenly chuckled lightly at your remark. “How are you so quick to mark me wrong as if I had forgotten your favourite book?” You suddenly shifted uncomfortably on your feet as he smirked amusingly at your cornered form. “I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the revered Mary Wollstonecraft, we would often read her passages for hours didn’t we? A Vindication of the Rights of a Woman, well, I guess we’re both hypocrites here.” 

“What was her argument? That women were rendered weak, lacked the use of reason, had no special moral value?” He droned on and looked afar as if he was in deep thought before returning his sharp gaze to yours. “You had a lot to say about the sexist social arrangements in today’s society, you argued that women are deprived of their natural rights to acquire virtue through the use reason. How Wollstonecraft would be so disappointed if she could see you right now, the most passionate proponent of her work devoting her energies in pleasing and making herself attractive to men.”

“Stop it.” You hissed as he jabbed at your pride, mocking your own words of the past to further humiliate your contradicting present.

“What were the words you used to quote to me? ‘Have women so little in ambition as to be satisfied with such a condition? Can they supinely dream life away in the lap of pleasure and render themselves conspicuous by practicing the virtues which signify mankind? Surely she has not an immortal soul who can loiter life away merely employed to adorn her person, that she may amuse the languid hours, and soften the carress of a fellow-creature who is willing to be enlivened by her smiles and tricks, when the serious business of life is over.’ Aren’t you becoming the women she is scathing about?” 

“What’s so wrong with pleasure? Wanting to be taken care of? The want and human need for companionship and love is not one to be jeered at. Might it just even cross your mind that I chose this life instead of ‘building my faculty.’ Those texts described the social conditioning of women back in the eighteen hundreds, women have more options now and are more than capable to choose. Times have changed.” 

“Have they?” Chrollo hummed. “Is the pleasure that you insist on promoting for you, or for him?” He rubbed the silky garment of your dress impassively. “Don’t you wish to be more than a pretty ornament? To have purpose and participate in the natural rights of mankind? ‘Virtue, says reason, must be acquired by rough toils, and useful struggles with worldly cares.’ Sure you are provided with goods and raiment but liberty and virtue are given in exchange. You could build your character by the sense of struggle of living-“

“How can you call that living?!” You exploded abruptly, pausing for a moment to realise that you were shaking all over as you stood in your designer heels before him with glassy eyes. “What we did- to those people, those families, it was never enough for you. I may be what I despised in my youth but I’m better off being an indulgence for others rather than taking account for mass genocide; for what I lack in virtue I make up for my own compassion.”

“How kindly of you,” he nodded absently. “Then perhaps we should test it. Referring back on your comment on Mill’s harm principle, you must know then that the cause of evil not only takes account of a person’s action but also their inaction, and in either case he is justly accountable for the injury.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let’s hypothesise that I would come back on your white wedding day and that I would kill everyone present during the reception, by learning this information, you then would be held responsible for each of their death.” You griped your hand so hard you’re sure that you’ve left specks of bloody crescent moon marks on the palm of your hands. 

“I have no obligation of duty towards you, therefore the harm principle does not apply to me for I am not responsible or related for your actions.” You countered at his allusion to the other-regarding actions where a special role of obligation is placed within the liberty principle.

“No unfortunately you’re not,” he agreed. “But him, would you not protect him at all costs? Surely as your soon to be life long partner you would do whatever it takes to promote his health and well-being. If you would simply come back to me before the day of wedding, denounce your engagement and reinstate your affiliation and loyalty towards the troupe everybody gets their happily ever after.” He finally took a step back. “In failing to meet our obligations to others we are actually harming them.” 

“I’m tired of your philosophical rhapsodies, if you were to kill others or even yourself I would not hold myself accountable so I suggest you’d best return to whatever matters you currently have and leave us alone.” You’ve grown anxious and wary of the dangerous connotation of his words and with the way he was impishly grinning at you suggested that he saw right through your bluff. 

“Its getting late, you should return to your awaiting fiancé before he realises you’ve been gone for too long,” looking back down at the sight of pretty swirls of dresses on the ballroom quietly dwindling down as the night grew longer. “It’s reassuring to see that you haven’t changed at all, I missed our philosophical prattle.” 

“I can hardly say the same, discussing Western philosophers on an engagement party is certainly not in the least enlightening, I suggest you turn to the East for matters such as these.” 

Chrollo gave a half-suppressed laugh and an amused smile, one that was rare and sincere in which held no trace of malice or cruelty. “Before I forget to tell you, you look beautiful.” You didn’t let your hardened expression change when his comment took you by surprise as he slowly backed away from you and into the shadows.

You heard your name being called out by Thomas where he sighed in relief and ran towards you in a light jog before taking you into his arms. “So this is where you’ve been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he playfully chastised with a turn on his lips. He led you back inside the bright chandelier lit hall to bid your guests farewell for the night, however, you couldn’t help but glance back from your shoulders to see that Chrollo had disappeared. 

Though his presence was now absent, his words still rang loudly inside your head. His confrontation of your nature, how the spotlight is too blinding for someone like you and how it’s just a matter of time you would run into the dark once more with your back up against the wall and tangled up in his web seem to be conveyed as a confident prediction rather than insults to your moral character.

Chrollo wasn’t here to steal anything, not even you, he wanted you to come to him on your own accord even if he had to force pieces to make you submit to his will. However, his appearance tonight also wasn’t meant for mere formalities, in fact he made his purpose and intention clear when he first spoke of the day you would finally be wed. 

It was a warning.

[gifted-burnout-archive]

BLUE

Part Three

Day 23/93: Dallas, TX.

Word Count: 7.6K+

Author’s Note: it’s the third installment, and things might be heating up. song in this chapter is ‘Let’s Fall In Love For The Night’ by FINNEAS, it gives me such reggie vibes, and it’s most certainly a reggie x reader song. and if you are wondering why i know so much about dallas, texas and the surrounding area, it’s because i visited! it might be one of my favourite places on earth, and i felt required to include it in one of my stories at some point, so here you go.

Context: This is an AU of Julie and The Phantoms. Here, the boys are now alive again, aging alongside Julie and Y/N, and they are all now in their early twenties: Julie is 19/20, Y/N and the guys are 20/21. Same goes for Flynn and Carlos and Ray and all that jazz, basically everyone is older.

WARNING: abusive behaviours, drinking. Please see this post for more information.

If you are in need of help, please consider reaching out to domestic abuse hotlines in your country. This link leads to a wiki page with a few hotlines sorted by country. Remeber there are people who love you, and who support you.

part one is here - part two is here

--

“Where do I see myself in ten years?” Y/N echoed the question that had been asked of her as the team lounged around the front of the bus. From her spot atop one of the dining tables, sat crossed legged with her camera in hand, she had a view of her entire tour family: from Julie in the kitchenette with Alex, making Poptarts; to Flynn to her right, typing away frantically on her laptop. Luke was the one who asked her the question, sat across from her and throwing an unsolved rubix cube up into the air, and to his right sat Reggie, tucked in the booth seat corner scribbling away at his notebook, a smile on his face that had Y/N warm at the sight. “I asked you a far easier question, Patterson.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. I mean, I can tell you where I’ll be, where the guys and Julie will be. I can guess at Flynn but it depends whether she plucks up the nerve to ask out Carrie or not-” Luke was interrupted by his own chuckle, a reaction to Flynn flipping him off without looking away from her laptop screen. “But you? I don’t know.” He shrugged, catching the rubix a final time before pushing it over the table to Reggie. The dark-haired boy glanced up for a moment, looking Y/N over as she held up her camera and snapped a picture of him.

“Actually, I wanna know the same thing.” Reggie backed up his fellow bandmate, closing over his book and smiling at his friend when she rolled her eyes. “When you’re thirty, Y/N, where do you want to be?”

“Geographically? Emotionally? Ideally?” Y/N found herself avoiding the question because, quite honestly, she wasn’t sure how to answer. She hadn’t really thought what her future might hold, she hadn’t really had the chance to.

But being posed with the question, being asked for an answer, her lips started moving before her brain could register.

“Put me somewhere warm, and green: with enough money to be comfortable, enough friends to be sociable, enough booze to get drunk and enough beautiful things to take pictures of.” She offered, lifting her camera and snapping another picture as Reggie and Luke looked at her with soft smiles. “What about you, Reginald? Luke says he’s got you figured out.”

“I think what you’ve got going sounds pretty good, I might just join you.” Reggie smirked, only taking his eyes off of Y/N to glance over at Luke, the boy’s eyebrow raised and arms folded. “You know, in amongst the fifth album and rock star lifestyle.”

“Would that be the country album no-one expects?” Y/N asked with a grin, and Reggie’s eyes lit up.

“I mean, I’ll still learn fiddle if you’re up for it, Reggie.” Julie commented from the kitchen, returning from her snack making expedition with Alex in tow, the boy munching down on a Poptart like he’d never eat another: the boys had a tendency to eat like it was their last meal. “I mean, perfect place to start learning, Texas bound.” She added, cosying up against Luke, the pair sharing a kiss before she handed over the frosted sweet treat.

“Why didn’t we know you were from Texas?” Flynn questioned, her eyes finally leaving the computer screen to accept a snack Alex offered, who then grabbed another from the plate and handed it to the photographer sat on top of the table. “I mean, I found out from Y/N last week.”

“It never really came up.” Reggie shrugged, sitting up straight to make room for the blonde drummer, their bus taking a sharp turn. “I mean, I only lived here until I was ten: once my dad sold his company off we made the move to California as quickly as possible.” he explained, he and Y/N sharing a small smile.

Their night under the stars had bled into the early morning as they retold their lives to one another, making sure to cover almost every detail: Y/N didn’t mention Stephen, for more obvious reasons than either of them cared to admit. Reggie had told her all about growing up near Dallas, about learning to ride his pony Flash, about his parents thinking the move would fix their marriage, but how it ultimately didn’t. He. Of course, left out some key details too…

The last thing Y/N needed to know about was his dad’s violent fits or his mother’s excessive drinking.

“Glad to be back though… And since we have the whole afternoon and night to ourselves…” Reggie pointed to Flynn for confirmation, her nod causing attention to focus back on the bassist. “Flynn and I have a plan for the night.” Reggie beamed when Y/N clapped her hands in excitement, though his other bandmates looked a little sceptical. “I promise, it’s fun.”

“Reggie, your idea of fun before you met us,” Alex gestured between himself and Luke, who sat across from them, cuddled into Julie’s side. “Was shovelling horse shit at some dilapidated stables and pretending you were a cowboy.”

“Yeah, well, I was supervising.” Flynn sighed happily, closing over the laptop she hadn’t turned off in almost two days. The band wanted to get some recording done in Nashville later on the tour, a surprise they had all constructed for Reggie’s upcoming birthday, but a complication with bookings and the admin over in Tennessee had risked the possibility of it happening. Of course, Flynn hadn’t stopped emailing and calling until it was sorted. “It’s going to be an amazing night. With no horse shit involved, metaphorically and literally.”

“ETA, ten minutes from Dallas folks.” The radio crackled over the sound system, that had spent most of its time being used to play background music as they travelled, with Ronnie sharing their travel information quickly. “Paparazzi inbound, unfortunately.” He added, groans echoing around the cabin.

The last year in particular had been hounded by reporters and gossip columnists looking for the latest rumours to spread about the team. The lies ranged far and wide, from Luke and Julie breaking up to Alex cheating on Willie to them all being part of a cult to Reggie ‘notorious’ love life. The bassist was the last single one of the band, it only made sense that with their rise to fame came constant claims from anonymous girls that Reggie was their boyfriend, their husband, their baby daddy.

“Hotel security say they’ve got it under control, but I doubt it.” Ronnie added, and with that the six set into action to get ready for their swift departing from the bus. Poptarts were quickly eaten before everyone was back on their feet again: Luke and Julie taking on the pre-assigned role of collecting instruments together and packing them away for the moving crew, Alex rushing to his room to grab his last few necessaries that would live in his fanny pack for the next few hours, Flynn disappearing into the back to make one last phone call about interviews happening in Austin two days later with Rolling Stone, leaving Y/N and Reggie alone in the bus’s centre.

“You’ve been looking like Luke the past few days, Reginald.�� Y/N spoke up first, slipping off the table and grabbing her camera bag from the overhead storage, beginning to dismantle her device as Reggie fiddled with the rubix cube Luke had left on the table. “Constantly scribbling… I haven’t seen you ever write as much as you have on the bus these past few weeks.” She remarked again, her hands methodical and practised in her work, quick to pack her camera up and close the casing.

“I found inspiration, what can I say?” Reggie said with a smirk, his fingers flicking the cube round and round with practically no effort, his eyes focused on Y/N instead of the colour puzzle before him. “Did you bring any hoodies with you?” He asked, suddenly changing the topic, and Y/N shook her head. She wasn’t really needing to: after all, their US tour was taking place in the summer, they had planned the route rather meticulously to miss the southern heat of July or the rains and wind chill that came to the north in April and May. Constantly travelling away from bad weather meant the need for anything warm had crossed Y/N’s mind, save for the occasional cardigan or blanket.

“Why would I need one?” She asked, walking towards the back of the bus with her equipment as her phone started to buzz in her back pocket. “Shit…”

“We don’t want the paparazzi seeing your face, do we?” Reggie questioned quickly. “Grab one from my room before we jump off.” He added as Y/N picked up the phone, mouthing a thank you as she answered and disappeared into the back of the bus, slipping into Reggie’s room to locate her disguise and shutting the door quickly.

“So we just don’t talk now, is that it?” The voice that came down the line was angrier than usual, and Y/N took her first chance that day to catch a glimpse of the time, Reggie’s bedside alarm clock reading 4.38 pm.

She had forgotten to call Stephen for the third time that week.

“Babe, babe I’m sorry. We were all just chatting and I got caught up in work and completely forgot.” She tried to explain quickly, her face falling when she heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Did… Did something happen at work?”

“I want to bring you home for a few days.” Stephen spoke up after a moment. “After Nashville. I know you guys are busy with the tour, but do you think you could talk with Flynn? Get someone to cover the Florida and Alabama gigs so we can maybe spend some time together?” His voice was sweet, sincere, and Y/N found herself smiling at the idea. Of course, it wouldn’t be great for the team, but would a few days really hurt?

“I, I think that would be a great idea, babe.” She answered as she opened up Reggie’s drawers, taking a moment to pick out her favourite on his hoodies, one with a rather terrible calculus joke printed on the back, and pulling it on over her travel clothes. By the sound of Reggie’s plans, she’d need to change for their events that night, but she had some clothes laid out in her own room, she could scoop them up and change in the hotel. “I’ll have to make sure with Flynn, it obviously depends on whether we can get one of the assistants to step up for a few days, helping with Julie’s make up and the guys’ clothes and such but-”

“You know Flynn will be alright with it, just say yes already.” Stephen chuckled on the other end of the line, and a part of Y/N wondered if she should just say yes without checking, if she should just this once not fight him on it. Stephen was always in the right on these things, she often challenged him regardless.

Unfortunately, she just couldn’t hold her tongue.

“Babe, that’s not how my job works.” She remarked, walking out Reggie’s room and back to her own with a smile to Alex as she passed by him sifting through some music sheets Y/N didn’t recognise, no doubt new stuff the boys and Julie had been writing. As the bus slowed down a little too suddenly, Y/N grabbed for stability on her wall, waiting to straighten herself back out and continue talking as she collected her necessary items for their evening in Dallas. “I do still need to book time off, to run through procedure with my temporary replacement, to plan ahead at least two weeks in case of an emergency, the whole team do. It’s a lot of work, and I’m happy to do it but-”

“Am I really the bad guy for wanting to bring you home for a few days? So we can sleep in our bed together, so we can see our families?” The heavy sigh from the start of the call came back. “Y/N, you’re acting like you don’t want to spend time with me anymore.”

“I do want to spend time with you, Stephen! You know I do!” Y/N promised it, almost pleading. “But this tour was always going to happen; I skipped out on the last tour to spend time together…” She reminded him. The fact that she had done so, missing on a West Coast trip for two weeks that she wanted to go on, that meant something to Stephen at the time. It was certainly a big decision for her to make, choosing her boyfriend over her friends, her best friends…

“You are coming home after Nashville, alright?!” Stephen snapped, and Y/N had to move the phone away from her ear to stop the harsh noise from echoing around her head. “You are my girlfriend, when I ask you to come home you do it. Or is everyone else in the entire world more important than me?” He asked.

“Of-of course not, baby… I’ll,” Y/N took a deep breath as the bus came to a halt, the sound of her friends outside her door forcing her to quickly roll up her clothes and stuff them into her handbag. “I’ll see you in Nashville, we’ll go home after, we will… I’ll be sure to sort it all out with Flynn and the team.” She conceded, the idea of a week off suddenly sounding like much more of a chore than it had a few minutes ago. “I love y-”

The phone hung up before she managed to finish the words, but a part of her was happy she didn’t have to say it.

“Y/N?” Julie’s voice accompanied a rapping on her bedroom door, Y/N quick to grab her things as it creaked open, the shorter girl looking back into the main area of the bus as she entered. “Are you ready to go?” She asked, stopping dead for a moment once she turned to face Y/N.

“What?” The photographer asked, trying to offset the tension created by Julie’s frown with a soft chuckle, but it did little to assist. Julie took a few paces forward, the girls toe to toe, and reached a hand up to wipe a tear from Y/N’s cheek she didn’t even notice was there.

“IS everything alright, Y/N? Did Stephen do something?” Julie asked with more seriousness than Y/N had heard from her in years: the girl was always playful in her tone, a fan of a joke, but this was new, intense, the concern almost scary.

“Everything’s fine. I had something in my eye.” Y/N lied, putting on her smile and giving a convincing enough performance that Julie seemed to let the subject go, the girl nodding and walking out of Y/N’s room, back to the band and Flynn, prompting Y/N to follow behind before she was left alone. She checked in the mirror to make sure her face was clear of signs of upset before joining the back of the queue.

That was too close for her liking.

“I knew you’d pick that one.” The voice was Reggie’s, a happy remark at her choice of camouflage as he let Julie and Luke pass by him, their four friends heading out into the chaos of camera flashes and loud voices badgering for gossip. Y/N froze a little at the noise, Reggie quick to notice and take her camera bag for her, his free hand offering itself to her. “Grab on, I’ll get you through without a scratch.” He said with that same charming smile she had always found so suiting for him.

“Promise you won’t lose me to the sea?” She asked, half-joking, half-serious. She had been lucky enough to miss most of the band’s brushes with paparazzi, or manage to slip by them without a second glance if she was with the crew: but she was on the bus this time, she was going to pass through them no matter what. It seemed to her better to do it with someone instead of alone.

“I promise.” Reggie recited back to her, and Y/N took his hand tight in her grasp as a response, the feeling sending tingles up Reggie’s arms that he did his best to stifle any physical reaction from. With that, and a shared nod, the pair started in a jog out the bus, into the mayhem.

--

Y/N hadn’t often thought about why she disliked her picture being taken: she wasn’t sure what it was that stopped her from being in front of the camera and instead behind it. And while the utter anarchy of flashes and incessant questioning weren’t the true cause of her strain of scopophobia, Y/N deemed them as reason enough to hate everything about being on camera.

It made her even more grateful to have gotten indoors, the few seconds of exposure from the bus door into the air conditioned hotel lobby feeling like years: gave her an overwhelming sense of relief, after changing into her outfit for the night, a rather lovely white lace dress and  accompanying tennis shoes, to find their mode of transport for the evening in the hotel’s basement, an old blue Cadillac, a 62 series in fact, waiting with an attendant who promised any and all reporters had been cleared off.

The early May weather was ideal for the open topped car drive west from Dallas city centre, Y/N tucked into the front passenger seat as Reggie drove them, Flynn, Julie, Alex and Luke squeezed into the back of the car, singing along to the radio over the sound of the wind rushing past them. It was almost movie-like, ‘Amarillo´ blasting as they drove down the highway, Reggie glancing over at Y/N every once and a while to send a smile her way while he kept an easy control on the wheel, one arm holding the car straight while the other rested on the back of the bench seat, dressed like he belonged at the steering wheel with his black muscle tank on.

Despite the unsure waters she sat in with Stephen, Y/N found herself relaxing into her seat properly, with Reggie’s arm moving down to rest against her shoulder as they drove out of the city, here camera poised and capturing snapshots along the way.

“So, where exactly are we going?” Alex questioned from the back as they passed their second possible turn-off, the mounting suspense too much for the blonde to bear. He had come a long way with dealing with his anxiety, but not that far, and when Reggie and Flynn shared a glance, it seemed high time the truth was revealed about their activities for that night.

“So, obviously this is my home turf.” Reggie started off by saying, taking a moment to remove his arm from Y/N’s shoulder and indicate hi changing lanes before returning it to the preferred spot. “But one place I loved more than anywhere else in Texas is Fort Worth. It’s like, cowboy country.” He had the biggest smile on his face as he revealed their location, Y/N snapping a picture. “They have a stockyard and cattle parades and a cowboy museum and this huge maise maze. Of course, we can’t do all of it, I mean by the time we arrive half the places will have closed for the night, so I’ve compromised and with Flynn’s help, we have two stops tonight.” Reggie pulled off at the correct junction, speeding along the slip road towards Fort Worth.

“We’re going to a rodeo, and a honky tonk.” Flynn informed the group, the four friends without any previous knowledge of the evening’s plans sharing glances.

“Uh, that’s great… But what exactly is a honky tonk?” Luke asked on behalf of the group, the questioned directed at Flynn, but when she just shrugged, as oblivious as the others, all focus was on Reggie for an answer.

“It’s a massive music venue, actually this one is the world’s biggest. They’ve got them all over the south, mainly for country music. Huge dance floor, tons of seating: food, drink, pool. Billy Bob’s is the best, hands down: think of any big country artist, I can guarantee they’ve played there at some point.”

“Billy Ray?” Flynn asked first.

“Yep.”

“Willie Nelson?” Alex next.

“Like, a dozen times.”

“Dolly Parton?” Y/N asked next, Reggie nodding fast and smiling at her.

“We are headed to the home of country music history, folks.” He announced, followed by a whoop that had the whole car laughing away, all smiles and sincerity. There was nothing quite like seeing Reggie happy: he just turned into a sun, their sun, lighting up the entire space around them, his joy infectious and seeping into the cars around them.

The rest of the drive into Fort Worth went by as any car ride the six friends shared often did: with an excessive amount of singing, Alex complaining about Reggie’s speed on turns at least four times, and Luke giving Julie the same lovey dovey expression he had kept plastered on his face for her since high school. By the time they were pulling into parking lot nearest the rodeo, the sun was tickling the horizon, close to dusk, streetlights starting to flicker to life on the nearby streets.

One said streetlight sat right by the rodeo entrance, and under it stood a rather short lady waving enthusiastically at their car.

“I can’t decide whether she’s cute or crazy…” Flynn leaned forward and muttered in Y/N’s ear, causing the girl to try and stifle her giggle at the comment. The boys and Julie were first out of the car, Reggie taking the lead and getting to the woman waiting for them before Y/N had even had time to grab her camera bag, though the girl soon rushed over with Fynn to join the rest of the group.

“Uh, right! Guys, this is Naomi. She is a city coordinator, helps visitors like us feel at home. Naomi, this is Luke, Alex, and Julie, who you probably know of. That’s Flynn, our band manager, and Y/N here is our photographer slash make-up artist slash general beauty guru.” Reggie was quick to introduce, Naomi wasting no time in giving each member of the friendship circle a tight hug.

“Well, welcome y’all.” She said once she had let go of Julie, the last to embrace. “Now, the rodeo has another thirty or forty minutes until it starts, and I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you, Miss Molina?” Her accent was thick, the sort of deep south accent you might expect from the state, with the Texan twang that Y/N could sometimes slip into Reggie’s own cadence.

“Oh, right… I forgot to mention.” Flynn muttered, Julie glancing between her best friend and the older woman with raised eyebrows.

“Well, Julie, we were hoping you might do us the honour of singing the anthem tonight? When we heard Julie and the Phantoms would be visiting, well the whole council just knew we would have to give it a shot and ask.” Naomi explained with the sweetest smile and warmest eyes Y/N had ever seen: they were the sort of deep chocolate brown that, when the light caught them just right, turned into a sea of gold flecks over hazel iris. She lifted her camera, zooming in and capturing the woman’s side profile discreetly as Naomi awaited Julie’s answer.

“I’d love to.” Julie responded to the celebration of the council member before them, who let out a squeak of glee.

“Oh, thank you so much darlin’!” She exclaimed. “Now, the rest of y’all can go have a nose around the area, some of the stores around here might still be open, Cavender’s across the way will be. Get yourselves some souvenirs, some hats, try and blend in with the folk round here.” Naomi offered, and it seemed to be sound advice: for the people starting to arrive for the rodeo that night, almost all of them were wearing the signature cowboy hate one associated with Texas, matched with the boots and buckle belts. Naomi herself had a hat atop her black waves of hair. “I’ll take Miss Julie here in and set her up with her mic and all.” She explained, and with nods of agreement shared amongst the group, alongside a quick kiss between Julie and Luke, the lead singer disappeared into the building.

“You, me.” Flynn said, grabbing onto Y/N’s hand and starting a march around the corner towards the bright shine marking their clothing destination. “I can trust you to pick out the best accessories for everyone, Y/N, and I want some cowboy boots.” Her determination left Y/N’s happily helpless, following after her friend in search of head gear and footwear suitable to the region.

The boys wouldn’t have been too far behind them, the three walking in a lazy line towards the same destination, though their amble compared nothing to Flynn’s near sprint, each of the bandmate’s taking in the atmosphere of the place they had landed themselves in for the night, Reggie most of all. He grew up in the Lone Star state after all, and their walk along the side of the rodeo and the connected Billy Bob’s Honky Tonk brought back memories Reggie had forgotten after almost twenty years since his last visit.

He was reminded of the way everything smelled, of how the air tasted, of how the sound travelled from street to street. He recalled the old junctions, walking the memory alongside his younger self, found himself reminiscing about his fond childhood in the area before his parents’ marriage fell apart.

“You know…” Luke’s words broke Reggie from his day dreams, the guitarist walking backwards in front of Reggie and Alex, pulling his backpack around to the side of his body. “I was hoping you might spare me a minute to talk about your latest work, Casanova?” He continued, coming to a stop and prompting his confused bandmates to do the same, though the words quickly began to make sense when Luke revealed a black notebook from his bag.

A black notebook that wasn’t Luke’s own.

“Really, dude? Taking my shit off the bus?” Reggie reached out to retrieve the journal from Luke’s hands, but the guitarist held it back, opening to the bookmarked page and shaking his head as he read.

“Calm those horses, Reggie… This is really good.” Luke was often one to tease the bassist on his writing ability, Luke was definitely the stronger of the pair, but the compliment caught Reggie quite off-guard. Before he could refute the statement, Alex was by Luke’s side reading, mumbling the words as Luke’s sang out the chords Reggie had scribbled down.

“… That is really good… When did you write this?” Alex asked, looking up at the red cheeked raven-haired boy before him and Luke.

“I just… I was inspired, the touring life certainly helps when I need inspiration.” Reggie shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he did.

“Sure, it’s 100% not Y/N that’s got you writing love songs…” Luke teased a little more, Alex punching the boy’s exposed bicep in response. “Ow?” He questioned, but when Alex shrugged in response, the pair looked back at a now frowning Reggie. “Dude…”

“It’s just songs…” The bassist sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing over towards the nearby store, making sure Y/N was nowhere in sight or earshot when he spoke up again. “Never going to perform them, am I? Not when she’s with him…”

“You say that like we prefer Stephen over you.” Alex snorted, and Reggie glanced up at him in confusion. “What? It’s pretty clear to me who Y/N should be with, think it’s pretty clear to everyone but Y/N who she should be with…” He muttered the last part, arms folding as his head ducked down. The words though, they gave Reggie a sliver of hope he hadn’t been offered before: he had thought his interest in Y/N delusional at best, psychotic and cruel at worst, but knowing his friends thought they were good together, that it wasn’t all in his head, made Reggie feel a little better about the love songs he had found himself writing in the weeks prior.

“What you guys talking about?” A call from across the road had the three boys pretending to act natural: Luke quickly shoving the songbook into his backpack while Alex and Reggie tried to seem innocent, like they weren’t just talking about the girl who had asked the question.

Of course, upon second glance, Reggie was left speechless anyway.

Y/N crossed the road with Flynn by her side, the pair accessorised like true Texans with hats and boots, armed with bags of attire for their friends, but Y/N was more than having fun: she looked absolutely beautiful. Her white sundress with its v neckline pulled taunt against her chest now she had added a brown leather belt to her look at her waist, her tennis shoes swapped for a pair of cowboy boots, a hat finishing the look. She presented herself as a local, and Reggie found himself trying not to gawk too much.

“We have hats to go around.” Flynn announced as they came withing twenty paces of the trio, pulling the first from her bag and tossing it towards Luke, who caught the thing with ease. Y/N passed one to Alex as she came to a stop, Flynn fishing a second from her bag and setting atop her own head.

“And for the homegrown.” Y/N handed over the bag in her hands to Reggie with a smile, watching with eager eyes as he lifted out a deep brown hat that fell somewhere between Wild West Sheriff and Indiana Jones, and a belt with ‘TEXAS’ engraved into the buckle. “Need to rep the home team, Reginald.” She added, clasping her hands in hope of a reaction. “You like it?”

“I love it…” Reggie whispered, nodding his head as he spoke, taking a few seconds to take in the items before putting the first on top of his head, a perfect fit, then standing up to loop the belt through the unused belt loops of his jeans, a silly grin on his face as he caught his reflection in a nearby window. While Alex, Luke and Flynn started their walk back to the rodeo venue, the latter armed with a hat for Julie as well, Y/N feel into place beside Reggie, she too admiring their reflection in the glass surface, taking the hat off her head for a moment to rest her cheek against Reggie’s shoulder.

“We look good, Reginald…”

“We sure do, Bug.”

--

Alcohol and unchecked emotions never really mix. After Julie’s performance, and then a night of Y/N hiding her eyes in Reggie arm as bull riders were bucked from the creatures, and using the complimentary liquor provided to take her mind off of her paranoia, heading over to Billy Bob’s next door shouldn’t have been on her cards. She was already buzzed; she should have taken up the offer from Naomi for a lift to the hotel…

But she didn’t want to miss Reggie.

The pair had been inseparable for the entire night, like they usually were on tour: except Y/N was drunk for the first time in a while, and trying to work off her argument with Stephen earlier in the day, she wasn’t letting her Reginald out of sight. He didn’t mind, of course, he always liked her attention, and if he let his mind wander it felt like, for a moment at least, it felt like they were something more. Y/N cuddled into his side, his arm around her shoulders, their friends around them.

With the bar doors opening came a wave of music and cheers: a local band were playing that night, one Reggie seemed vaguely familiar with as he hummed along to the song.

“Hi, we’ve got a table booked under Naomi’s name?” Luke called over the noise to the hostess by the door, Julie tucked into his side, more in an attempt to keep Luke walking straight. There were plenty of perks to being a resurrected ghost-human hybrid: alcohol tolerance was not one of those perks.

“Indeed you do, folks! Lemme just take y’all over, we can get you some drinks too if you’re up for it?” The hostess offered with a cheery smile, slipping out from behind the bar and beginning a quick walk down towards the dancefloor. Alex and Flynn were hot on her tail, Reggie and Y/N ambling along behind, keeping the lanky blonde in sight for reference, while Luke and Julie abandoned the group altogether for the dancefloor as a slow song came on.

“Could we get four, beers?” Alex asked as he and Flynn sat down, catching Y/N by Reggie’s side about fifteen paces out. “And uh, could you open it under a tab. Luke Patterson.” Alex added, pulling a backpack from his shoulder Y/N didn’t even realise he was in possession of, and retrieving Luke’s card from the front pocket, handing it over to the hostess.

“I sure can do. Can I just say, I love your guys’ music, we have it on in here before we opening almost every night.” The hostess said with a bright smile, a blush rising to her cheeks as Reggie smiled back at her, coming to sit down across from Alex and Flynn. “I’ll get those drinks right away.”

“I forgot that bedroom eyes were a thing…” Flynn mumbled as the hostess left, reaching out and clasping onto Y/N’s hands from across the table. “We should both be in bed. We have actual jobs. These guys can party but just watch what happens when we wake up with hangovers tomorrow and the whole day falls apart.” Flynn prophesised for Y/N, who squeezed her hands in reassurance. The smile on her friend’s face though as her drink arrived told Y/N that they were too far gone to stop at any point soon, and as such, the four friends clinked beer bottles as their night began.

--

Minutes were quick to turn into hours, one bottle of beer equally swift in turning to multiple rounds and shots on the side. Within the first hour, Y/N opted to switch her phone from silent to off, tired of the constant calls from Stephen, no doubt wanting to question her whereabouts. By hour two, she had convinced Reggie to spare her a dance or two. By hour three, that had turned to more than twenty songs on the dancefloor alongside Julie and Luke, the four only stopping to grab their refreshments as Flynn and Alex spent a large portion of their evening winning card games against the table to their right.

“Alright, alright, alright! Hey, thanks guys!” A booming voice called as a man ran up onto the stage, the band disappearing off as he took over the centre mic as hour four came close to finishing up. It was almost one in the morning, by what the rather buzzed tour team could tell, and the night was very much still young. Alex and Flynn had joined them all on the dancefloor, the slow dances and coupled dance offs between Juke and Reggie and Y/N forming into a dance circle of the friends showing off their best line dancing moves: Reggie was quite clearly the winner of that one. “We all having a good night?” The announcer asked again, and the crowd of the honky tonk cheered in response.

The place was deceptively large: it had taken Luke a solid twenty minutes just to find the bathrooms earlier in the night, and he got so lost on the way back, a mixture of his over-friendly nature once a bottle of beer was in him and simply the sheer amount of people in the building, that Flynn had to assist Julie in finding him.

The group all stood together near the centre of the dance hall as they watched the stage over the heads of their fellow patrons, Alex boosting Y/N onto his shoulder so she might see better. As she hugged onto the blonde’s back, another few people pushed through the crowd to ask the band for autographs.

This was the other common occurrence of the night: when they weren’t dancing or winning money off of Texan cowboys, the four band members had been overcome with a wave of people asking for pictures, autographs, or just for them to accept the compliment someone was paying. Y/N forgot just how famous her friends were sometimes, but it was overwhelming clarity, that night, that if her four dearest friends got pestered everywhere from the streets of LA to the honky tonks of Fort Worth, they’d be pestered anywhere.

“Now, for those visiting us tonight, I am your Master of Ceremonies for the evening, the name is Jacob Blythe.” As if on command, the crowd shouted back “Well, howdy Jacob!”, causing the man to chuckle heartily into the mic, the sound echoing around the hall over and over. “I introduce myself because a little birdie told me we have some friends from the Sunshine State with us tonight.” He added, and the crowd cheered. The team’s ‘incognito’ night out was truly public record now, but it was far too fun to really care. “So, our band tonight will be back after their break, we don’t wanna tire them out now. But that does mean we are in need of some musical talent!

“Now, I’m not pressuring none, but if any particular individuals wanna come up and give us a tune, I think we’d all be mighty grateful.” The MC stated, Y/N climbing off of Alex’s back as the four bandmates shared glances. “So, do we have any volunteers?”

Before anyone had a chance to stop him, Reggie suddenly disappeared from his spot amongst the group, appearing a moment on the stage behind the MC, who let out a rather high-pitched scream as Reggie sat his hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“What is he doing?” Y/N found herself asking, watching her friend picking up an acoustic guitar from its stand and fixing the strap around him before he clipped on a capo and stood himself in front of the mic.

“Good evening, Fort Worth. I’m Reggie.” He introduced himself to the cheers of the crowd, a spotlight focusing onto him as he spoke. He wasn’t quite sure why he was up on that stage, in fact every bone in his body seemed against it: but his hands settled into place over the strings and his fingers began to play a sweet arpeggio, getting used to the foreign guitar. He was lost to impulse, no doubt partially thanks to the liquor in his system, but he was confident enough to keep going, maybe too scared to stop.

“I think he’s gonna play.” Julie remarked, stating the obvious as she grabbed Luke’s hand and led him closer to the stage, Flynn doing the same to Y/N as Alex followed behind.

“I uh, I usually leave our band’s songwriting up to Luke, right there.” Reggie added as he continued to play, pointing a hand out towards Luke who waved to the surrounding crowd, another round of whoops sounding. “But I dabble, and since this is my home state… I have something new for you guys tonight.” He finally paused the arpeggio, taking one last sigh before using the same chords and beginning to play the mysterious song.

“Let’s fall in love for the night and forget in the mornin’.” He sang out, his voice so soft and sweet that Y/N found herself instantly fixed on the music. She was often this way with Reggie, whenever he sang she could swear that the rest of the world disappeared. “Play me a song that you like you can bet I'll know every line. 'Cause I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid, don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, stop that noise.” Reggie lifted his hand from the guitar, his eyes scanning the audience to send a wink towards his friends, two of whom recognised the lyrics of his chosen serenade. “I know better than to call you mine.”

“Wow…” Y/N whispered, impressed, lifting her elbow to nudge Alex, but meeting thin air instead.

“You need a pick-me-up?” Reggie sang, Alex appearing at the drumkit on stage behind the raven haired singer and joining in on a drum line, to the cheers of the crowd. “Well, I'll be there in 25. I like to push my luck, so take my hand, let's take a drive.” With a nod towards Julie and Luke, he coaxed the other bandmates onto the stage, leaving Flynn in charge of the entranced Y/N, pushing the girl alongside her towards the front of the crowd. “'Cause I've been livin' in the future hopin' I might see you sooner. I want you ridin' shotgun. I knew when I got one right.” He continued to sing, passing off the guitar to Luke as Julie took her place at the piano and played the chords with a smile Reggie’s way.

“Let's fall in love for the night and forget in the mornin'. Play me a song that you like you can bet I'll know every line.” Reggie sang out, this time accompanied by the harmony of Julie and the backing vocals of Alex and Luke, the four sharing smiles as they performed. “'Cause I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid, don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, stop all that noise. I know better than to call you mine.”

As Y/N watched on, nestled in the crowd, she couldn’t help but wonder when Reggie was struck with such romantic inspiration. She had spent almost every day for the last near month with him, and with his last big hit being ‘Home Is Where My Horse Is’, she allowed herself the curiosity, a beer in hand that she found herself sipping away at as she observed.

“Where’d you get that drink?” Flynn whispered into Y/N’s ear, who shrugged and took another sip.

“I love it when you talk that nerdy shit. We're in our twenties talkin' thirties shit. We're makin' money but we're savin' it, ‘cause talking shit is cheap and we talk a lot of it.” The song continued, the crowd cheering and dancing along to the music while Y/N found herself fixed to her spot, not even noticing as Flynn played safety guard and relieved her of the drink in her hands. “You won't stay with me, I know, but you can have your way with me 'til you go.” Julie and Reggie harmonised on the line, Luke and Alex suddenly disappearing from the stage, Julie taking her leave, quick to pull Flynn away with her and leave Y/N alone in front of the stage. “And if all your kisses turn into bruises, I'm a warnin’.”

And then, Y/N struggled to breathe, completely paralysed when Reggie’s eyes locked with her own.

“Let's fall in love for the night and forget in the mornin'.” Reggie lifted the microphone from its stand, walking round and jumping off the low stage onto the dancefloor as he sang. There was a confidence in the music he couldn’t dispel, emotions he might have never admitted otherwise coming into the open, at least that was what he hoped. His walk was in time to the best of the drums left to echo as he sang acapella, his feet only stopping once they were toe to toe with Y/N’s.

“Play me a song that you like you can bet I'll know every line.” They had been that close all night, dancing away to the sounds of the country band, or when Y/N had spent half the rodeo hiding in his arms fearful for the bull riders in the arena below them. But it felt different, intimate.

“'Cause I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid.” His free hand lifted hers from her side, taking her hand in his and lifting their arms above their heads to spin Y/N on the spot: that action too was slow, something that made the rest of the world outsiders looking into a rare moment. “Don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, fuck that noise.”

“I know better. I know better. I know better than to ever call you mine.” The look the pair shared, Reggie finding himself smirking as he let the mic fall, it was nothing either of them had experienced before, and Reggie vanished into thin air as the crowd erupted into cheers.

It was only once he had disappeared, only once the crowd broke into thunderous applause, that Y/N felt herself breathe again. She was overcome with a dizziness she would equate to the feeling after a rollercoaster ride, paired with the sound of her heart in her ears and near pounding out her chest, and that was before mentioning the flush that coloured her cheeks and nose red. A part of her might have called it fault of the alcohol, but Y/N had never felt more sober. His smirk was sketched into her memory, the feeling of his hand on hers burned in her skin, the smell of his cologne a scent she had never noticed was so very enticing before. It was like she had been transported to some kind of paradisal state of being, the way his eyes held her own like she might drown in the deep sea green irises…

There wasn’t much Y/N could make sense of in the few moments that ended the performance, but she knew, deep in her gut:

This wasn’t good.

--

Y/N’s Instagram Feed: Day 23/93

and the rumours begin...

--

Tags:  @reggiesleatherjacket @bookdealer5 @nerdie20 @epikskool @gabriella-superwholock-universe @midnightpsychic @siennanoelle01 @catwx3 @oswin05 @trxnxtysstuff  @strangermiraculousloser  @izzyhogue @random-thoughts-003 @theatricalfangirl @aliceinemeraldcity @kristencoontz @sunsetpatterson @ghostlyb1tch @caitsymichelle13 @lovesanimals @j-mar-memester @avs-hart @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @eries45 @im-a-writer-right @independentgirl @aberette13 @lord-of-the-fried @ellepscal @korydickson @kcd15 @lukeys-giggle @aunicornmademedoit @carleywhittaker @lolychu @delicatelukepatterson @a-whole-a-lot-of-fandoms @voguesir @reggieandthereggies @overlyhypedup @crappy-unicorn @amortiff @writerinlearning @parkeret @kaylinfayezink @uglypeachh @xxcxrolinexx @writingforphantoms @isabellaskyliner @sophiathefirst @musicconversedance @calicokitkat @nynke2004 @lukesrosetattoo @kiss-themoongoodbye @megnmendes @haydieenzzibug @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @lanasfandoms @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @lazydaisy19 @hologramband @rogersangel @mybrainiswhack @uhmitstori @mon-charmante @mjflower @heimdoodle @-episkey- @simp4madi @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @n0wornever @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @jatpfan99 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @daisiesforlacey @valntynegillespie @ritz-hell-hotel @ssprayberrythings @mishappend @lukespaterson @dovegranger @morganayennefertyrell @queenxxkiller @kmsmedine @parkeret @bookfrog247 @poe30-blog​ @dmcfarland1​ @magnet-girl​

[theodora3022]

Love You To Hell And Back(Yandere Claude)

Pairing: Yandere Claude Faustus x F!reader

Summary: Upon running away from home due to an unwanted arranged marriage, you took up a maid position in the Trancy household. You thought it would be simple, lay low for couple of months then the other family would cancel the engagement. Being a maid should be easy right? Just wash and clean the house and saying yes to their lords. You never thought you would end up in such a bizarre and dangerous household.

Notes: I am a Claude simp. If you do not know before, you do now. Do not get the wrong idea, Sebastien is handsome alright, but there is just something about those golden eyes makes me shiver in the best kind of way. (Also I love the French pronunciation of his name but whatever)

Word count:2k

Warning: Non-con touching, coercion, possessive behaviour, general Yandere content

SFW

As a lady on exile, you do not have many options. Your relatives were out of the question since they could inform your parents of your whereabouts, and so does all of your friends. Luckily, you figured out the perfect solution: disguises! And who is more unnoticeable then a maid? They blend naturally in the background of drawing rooms and parties, no one will bat an eye if there happen to be an extra one. Nobles do not care for servants, so a forged name and documents would get the job done. 

Answering advertisements seems to be a good way to start. Ah, there is one right here. The Trancy Estate? To your knowledge, there is only one young lord there, and you are not acquainted with the family. Seems the ideal choice: “Only for two months, as a replacement.” You know being a servant would be unpleasant, compare to your noble lady life now, but you had chosen between this instead marrying a man you despise.

Packing some essentials, you thrown on a simple cotton dress borrowed from your maids and sneaked out. You thought you had escaped from hell, not knowing you are better off staying. Because, you had quite literally, walked into a spider’s trap.

 A dark-skinned maid welcomed you, explaining how she has to leave the household for some personal business while giving you a small tour of the building. She seems nice enough, although you were curious why her right eye is covered by bandages. The manor is dead quiet and empty, giving you an illusion of how you can hear your own breathing.

“Miss Hannah, where are the other servants?” You shiver, tightening your clock just a bit. Although it is only autumn, the winds are chillier in this house, or so you felt.

“There is only five of us. Me, the triplets, and Sir Claude the butler. Our master can be...difficult, one could say.” Handing you a basket of maid attire, Hannah seem to be terrified of this master she speaks of.  

I wonder why he is so difficult. You thought as you thanked her and settled down in the little servant room you were given. Better put on these maid clothes soon, getting use to them as fast as possible. Blue and white does not look so bad together.

Kitchen duties are not so bad since all you need to do is chopping up vegetables and wash the dishes while the triplets took care of the cooking. Dusting is a nuisance, but with enough efforts it was taken care off. The triplets are an odd flock, as they never speak unless necessary. All your befriend attempts had failed miserably, you felt as if they look down on you somehow? Since you only do backstage work, you had yet to meet the master and his butler. Not that you mind, you want to kept your existence covert, after all!

You were trying to dust off the chandelier in the drawing room when you first met Claude. The stairs you use are a bit unstable, which causes you to have major anxieties about falling.

“Ahh!” You squeal as your staircase finally deciding to let you fall. Closing your eyes in horror, you were certain you are going to suffer at least bruises. But the expected pain never came. Instead, you felt a strong set of arms had caught your body mid-hair.

 Gazing up, what did you see?

Oh did that gorgeous face make this fall worth it. The tall man in black reminds you of those flawless Roman statues, of King David. You never thought humans can be this magnificent.(Well you are still right, as he is no human)

Gently placing you back on your feet, Claude started to examine you behind those clear glasses. You quickly smoothed the wrinkles on your skirt as you dip your head for greeting.

“Greetings, kind Sir. You must be Sir Claude. My pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am (y/n), the new maid.” Gods, he is handsome. You were not even sure words can describe how those golden eyes made you feel. Are you blushing? Ugh, get it together, self! He is only a butler here. It is beneath you to swoon over him. You put on a smile, then courtesies to the stoic man in the most elegant way possible.

The lack of callus on your fingers and your sophisticated manners informs him that you, are no ordinary maid. As a servant to his lord, Claude needs to make sure no sketchy individual can harm him. Some investigation would need to be done.

How interesting...Why would a high-born lady such as yourself ran away from your prestigious noble house, only to serve as a humble servant here? Just where did Hannah dig you up? Ah, that is no matter at present. Surely your cheerful spirts can light up the dull days of this mansion. The only thing Claude need to ensure is you do not expire as quickly as others. Alois can be such a spoiled brat; however no harm should befall to you as long as he can help it.

Your voice reminds the demon of little birds of forest mornings, chirping delightfully to a new day no matter how horrid the night before was. The way you thank him stuttering then trying to go back to your duties are just adorable, and amusing. It is clear as day:you are fascinated by Claude’s pretty face. Quite bold for a lady to do so. Claude had met a lot of people in his long life, but none of them intrigues him so as you do. He cannot grasp what exactly, but there must be something enchanting about you, that makes him want to pull you close and do unspeakable things to your good, pure body.  

Tender and cautious, that is what the knocks on his office door suggests. It is late, way past Alois’s bedtime. Who could have business with him this hour, apart from his demanding lord? “Come in.” Claude’s curiosity had spiked up.

It is you, still dressed and with a plate in your hands. What a pleasant surprise. And are those pastries?

“I...baked these for you, Sir. I want to thank you for your help earlier today.” Looking away, you quickly remind yourself how you should never indulge too much. However you had already spent two hours of your free time trying to bake something decent.

Did your parents taught you it is improper to visit a man’s quarters this late at night, alone? How rebellious of you, not that Claude minds anyway. You might appear to be demure and good at first sight, but under that nice façade is a bold maiden who does not care for modesty, how complex.

Chocolate chip biscuits, but with distorted shapes. “I am not very good at this, so I totally understand if you do not wish to eat them. I jus want to properly show my gratitude, that is all.” Nervously fidgeting your apron corner, you bit your lip when he raises one of them to his lips and took a small bite.

Edible, but has lots of room for improvement. Claude can practically taste your eagerness to please from the chocolate spheres. Seeing your gaze fixated on him, expecting his comments on your work, Claude let out a quiet laugh. Which made heat rush up to your cheeks. Is that a good or a bad response? It cannot be that terrible can it?

“Come.” He signals with a hand wave, and you hesitantly walked beside his chair. How cute, the butler and the little maid. It would be a shame to just give you some half-hearted praises and send you out, wouldn’t it? It is what a gentleman would do, of course. Claude on the other hand, has never been one. He could entertain that appearance for his lord’s sake, but in this little room with just you, there is no need for charades.

You were shocked when one gloved hand pulled you swiftly onto his lap, with the other locked around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Of course, you fantasized the idea of being the lover of such a fine specimen of mankind, but only the idea of it. Even though you are nothing more then a lowly maid now, you are still a lady of nobility with conducts of propriety.

Your shrinking pupils made Claude realize he might be pushing a bit too fast. But human lives are so fragile, so short compare to demon ones. If he does not seize this opportunity, who knows when is next one going to arrive? Whether it is your intention or not, Claude is now mesmerized with you. Now that he is holding you this close, breathing in your intoxicating sweet scent, the old demon had his first epiphany of a millennium: you are lovely, and he intends to keep you this way, one way or the other.

Squirming with protests, you tried to get out of his suffocating embrace. “Sir, this is not proper, please let go of me.” Yet you achieve no results, those iron grips still hold you firmly in place, those same arms that spared you an embarrassing fall this morning.

  “Little bird, finally thinking about propriety? You should know better then coming to my office this late unless you want something to happen.” Claude is close, too close, you can feel his breath fanning your ears gently. Gloved fingers trace down your jawline, making you tremble with fear. “Am I right, Lady (family name)?” You froze. What how did he-how do he know you are not a mere commoner? Had he already done a thorough investigation on you?

“Now, repeat after me, little bird.” His golden eyes shifted its color to pink, round pupils bending into a thin line. In normal circumstances, you would be terrified of how his features suddenly changed, but now you are too possessed by his intense gaze to think of anything else. Those eyes, you felt as if you could drown in those two magenta pools.

“I love Claude Faustus forever and I would do anything should he asks of me.”

“I-I love Claude Faustus f-forever...and I would do anything should....should he-e asks of me.” It is still your voice, although those words are defintely not your own. What is happening? Why do your tongue just moved on its own like man possessed?

“Perfect.” Running his bare fingers through your hair, Claude left a light kiss on your forehead, ignoring the horrid expression you are wearing. “You will behave, right little bird?”

“Of course, Sir Claude.” You did not just say that !There is no way. What has this evil man done to you? You never should have come here. Your terrible fiancée at least could not cast spells on you!

“I’ll take good care of you, my dearest little bird. After all, your fate is defined since the moment I lay my eyes on you. We are destined to be together.”

“Oh, do try to behave. It would be a shame if something should happen to your dear family. I would hate if you end up like your other human predecessors.” His lord, despite his young age, is a master at torture and inflicting suffering. There is a unfortunate reason why there is only a few servants in this manor, and the fact that they are durable demons too. Claude knows exactly where you would end up had he not intervened. Do not worry, he would never let you go. Demons mate for life, didn’t you know that? Why resist?

“I love you my dear, to the hell and back. We shall stay together until the end of time.”

[simply-not-an-egg]

LONG POST AHEAD: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

The fact that I’m making this a word document first I –

Anyway, so I mentioned last night I had finished my deconstruction/analysis of the infamous beach scene from The Karate Kid, and that I was going to post a more in-depth analysis of Johnny and Ali’s feelings throughout. As an added bonus, I will be doing this along with the feelings of Bobby Brown, Dutch, and Daniel LaRusso. This is Part One in a three-part series.

Johnny Lawrence

This is the first scene we ever see Johnny in; this is his introduction into the series. Now, to someone watching this scene for the first time, without any background information gathered from Johnny’s character throughout the assorted Karate Kid Universe (or as I like to call it the KKU – I’m probably not the only one but oh well. I hear a lot of the creators calling it the Miyagi-verse, but I feel like KKU encompasses things in a better way, but anyway, back to the point of this), a viewer would likely think that Johnny Lawrence is a bit of an asshole. I, though, am not one of those people – I have gone into this analysis with the prior knowledge of Johnny’s upbringing, this being a rewatch after having watched Cobra Kai a few weeks ago. And such prior knowledge comes in handy when it comes to discussing these characters, especially Johnny Lawrence.

For some quick context information before I begin to discuss Johnny’s feelings in depth; Johnny Lawrence and Ali Mills had been together for two years prior to this scene, from the summer of 1982 to the summer of 1984. Recently, Ali has broken up with Johnny, due to the fact that, instead of attending her birthday party, he got drunk with his friends at a bar, henceforth forgetting about the birthday. What is important to note here though, before I continue, is that Johnny did not have any intention hurting Ali in such a way, as evidenced by his persistence to talk to her and set things straight, and, at the end of the day, ultimately be her boyfriend again. We also know that Ali was Johnny’s most trusted person in his life at that point, aside from his mother, Laura, and having that suddenly be ripped away, especially considering the fact that it was and is hard for him to make good relationships with anyone due to his history of being abused by family and manipulated by Kreese, would have caused him a great amount of pain and upset, something I can understand on a personal level, as Johnny and I are quite similar in character and the fact that we both share people-related trauma (at varying levels though, his being much more extreme than mine). I know from experience that it is one of the most painful, stressful, anxiety-inducing things to have someone you’ve shared so much of your guarded life with be taken from you all of a sudden, in whatever way you interpret taken to be.

So, the moment Johnny steps, or rather rides, on screen, we know what he is feeling; hurt, upset, scared. That being said, he is also feeling a sense of determination and assuredness, evidenced by the fact that he believes wholeheartedly that he and Ali will talk, and that he will be able to set things straight. This, of course, all comes crashing down when Tommy points Johnny’s focus to the scene unfolding on the beach; some stranger is down there, touching Ali’s arms as the two laugh and smile, before the two fall backwards, one on top of the other. This causes Johnny to feel anger, and I am going to argue here that it is less anger towards this stranger, but more so towards himself; he was too late, and that was his fault.

And the reason I say that this anger was more so directed to himself is because of his behaviour once he and his friends arrive at the beach; he is civil towards Ali, and, even though he knew this stranger was lurking not far away, he was not seeking him out. As Johnny himself states later in the scene, all he wanted to do was talk. Those were his only intentions coming to the beach, no more and no less.

The first thing Johnny does when talking to Ali then, on the beach, is kneeling down in front of her, so that they can be eye-to-eye, and I find this important to note as doing such a thing makes Johnny vulnerable. From someone like him (at least, for the people that have never seen anything in the KKU), one would expect that Johnny would stand while talking to Ali, who is sitting, as this is an intimidation tactic. But he does not, because he does not intend to scare Ali in any way – that’s one of the last things he wants to do – all he wants to do is talk.

In response to Johnny, who has spoken in a neutral tone to Ali when asking to speak to her, Ali is instantly aggressive in tone, telling him that they’ve already been through this, which in turn tells us that they have already talked before, or at least Ali may have (because from this scene alone I am inclined to believe that Ali wouldn’t have been inclined to hear Johnny out the first time, instead just letting her own feelings out and setting them on the table). Asking a second time to talk to Ali then, tone still neutral, Johnny then also turns Ali’s radio off in an attempt to get her to listen to him. Some may argue that this was bad behaviour on his part, but I disagree – he’s still being civil, he hasn’t shown any hint of aggression, again, that isn’t his intention. All he’s trying to do is get Ali’s attention in the nicest way he can, and since just talking to her isn’t working, maybe turning off the radio will.

At this point you’re also probably wondering why Johnny didn’t just leave by this point in time, but in this case one must remember, by nature, Johnny is a very stubborn person, and when his mind is set on doing something, he’ll keep trying until that something gets done (something I can once again relate to, as my personality is the same). It should also be noted that Ali, again, is a very important figure in his life, and he has hurt her, so all he wants to do now is try and make her feel better, or at least to try and fix what he ruined.

In response to Johnny turning the radio off, Ali turns it on again – she is quite set on not talking to him – and it is at this point, Johnny having been ignored in such a way, Johnny stands and takes the radio from Ali, turning it off again. It is then when his mood turns, although, again, upset at being ignored in such a way as he now feels, he is still relatively civil. He does not shout at Ali when he speaks to her again; yes his tone is a little more aggressive, but he refuses to raise his voice at her.

And while we’re here I would also like to quickly discuss the feelings running through Johnny’s head, the main feeling at this point, not being anger, but pain. He’s spent much of his life being ignored by people, being ignored and shunned and turned away, and such a thing takes its toll on the mind. Of course, by now, he’s probably more or less used to it, but in saying that it’s obvious he was also used to Ali always being open to listen to him – after all, as Johnny later says in Cobra Kai, Ali was the only person he ever fully let his guard down on – and her suddenly ignoring him as harshly as she is, would be causing him to feel a lot of pain.

Another thing that only escalates this pain, and brings forward a deep feeling of mistrust, is what happens next; Ali promises that she will talk to Johnny if he returns the radio to her, so he does, he returns the radio to her. She, though, backs out of her promise, instead turning the radio back on and ignoring him again.

It says a lot about Johnny’s character and his relationship with Ali when it comes to how he gave the radio back like that; once again, he doesn’t mean harm, he just wants to talk, and this only re-establishes that fact. But her ignoring him again, and breaking her promise, as I stated before, just goes on to increase the feeling of hurt, dismantle any feeling of hope he may have felt when Ali made that promise, and unearths a feeling of mistrust. And that feeling of pain and mistrust is important and plays a big role in Johnny’s next actions.

This time Johnny takes the radio and throws it on the ground in frustration. This is when he becomes very much uncivil. But bad as his actions are here, I can understand them completely. Aside from all the emotions he’s feeling at the moment, we also need to remember that Johnny doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions in a positive way.

Throughout his childhood he hid them, his anger, his tears, his pain, due to the consistent abuse handed down to him by Sid, and this worsens upon reaching his preteen years, as that is when he joins Cobra Kai and that is when Kreese gets a hold of him, and that is when Kreese begins his manipulations; reinforcing that tears are a sign of weakness, that talking about how you feel is a sign of weakness. This is when Johnny also learns that the only way to deal with his frustrations is in a physical manner – he learns that he needs to hurt others so they can feel his pain too, and so he can feel at least a little better than before (but not really better, because we all know, on the inside, this pain Johnny causes others only gives him a sense of regret because, at his core, he is a good person that bad things have happened to (yes I just used a Sirius Black quote, fight me, uwu). He knows what he is doing his wrong. But he doesn’t know how to stop it).

This is the moment then when Daniel enters the scene. But note, that Johnny does not attack Daniel as soon as he sees him; he gives him a word of warning, telling him to not touch the radio. Even when Daniel does pick up the radio all Johnny does is take it from him and question, in a teasing manner, if he’s deaf. Following that, he then shoves the radio in Daniel’s chest, which causes him to lose his footing and fall on his back. It is from this point on where Johnny thinks of Daniel as a threat.

And again, we can understand why; his emotions are already heighted and raw, and Daniel entering the scene frankly just made those emotions even more raw, if such a thing is possible. Again, Johnny never intended to go after Daniel (his intentions were simply to talk to Ali), but the moment Daniel arrived to the scene, that acted as an invitation for Johnny to let his feelings out on Daniel. Because now he also realises, or at the very least assumes, that Daniel is the problem; he’s now standing in the way of Johnny and Ali, figuratively and literally.

Following this, Daniel then runs to swing at Johnny, and once again, what Johnny does next is very telling of his true personality; Johnny trips Daniel. He goes completely backward on the motto that has constantly been playing in his head (strike first, strike hard, no mercy), and instead does not strike first or hard, and he shows mercy. A second time, Daniel runs at Johnny, and again all Johnny does his trip him.

It is only when Freddy’s gang and Johnny’s gang begin egging the two on, when Johnny makes a move, but for close watchers, it is Daniel who leans into striking first. While it is true he didn’t actually hit or kick Johnny first, he did make the motion to do such a thing, and in response Johnny fought back.

Now, I will say, it was a bit too much, the degree at which Johnny fought back, and it was absolutely wrong of Johnny to be so aggressive towards an amateur, not even, but once again we can understand why he did it. Once again, emotions aside for the moment, he has been thrown into a setting here where he’s supposed to be committing to proper combat, and in his head, I can guarantee, the only thing in there other than how he feels are those teachings from Kreese. Strike First. Strike Hard. No Mercy.

Daniel now on the ground now, Johnny talks to Ali again, telling her this is her fault, and that all he wanted to do was talk. And as aggressively as he delivers that sentence, I believe behind there there is true pain in what he says; we know Johnny, at heart, is a good person, we know that he is going to regret what he’s done to Daniel whether that be sooner or later, and of course he’ll regret what he did to Ali’s radio, and we know that that regret is going to cause Johnny a lot of pain. Because he doesn’t necessarily mean to take his anger out like that, but he doesn’t know how to do it any other way.

For a second time Ali tells Johnny she will talk to him, granted he leaves Daniel alone, but this time Johnny turns down the offer; he doesn’t believe her anymore, not after her broken promise from a few minutes earlier. Following this then Johnny makes his way to Daniel. He delivers a light tease, but does not instigate another fight – again, it was not his intention to fight in the first place and I strongly believe he would have avoided it, if he and Daniel, especially Daniel, hadn’t been peer-pressured and egged on to the degree that they were. In anger, Daniel then stands and punches Johnny in the mouth. In response, Johnny kicks Daniel twice and punches him in the face.

Again, I will say, this is too much on Johnny’s part, but again, I can understand why he did it. He felt the need to defend himself, on top of the fact that he was struggling with all these internal emotions, and didn’t know of any other way to deal with them.

Following this Ali starts hitting Johnny in the chest, quite hard, but again telling of his character, he does not make to defend himself at all when she does this to him. He does though, in anger, say this is Ali’s fault, something again he will later come to regret, whereas she returns his sentiment, saying everything is his fault and questioning why he always has to fight. He does not provide an answer, instead leaving the beach then with a swear, driving over the radio and getting sand in Daniel’s face all the while.

We do not see Johnny again until school the next day.

This scene, to me, is the most telling of Johnny’s personality. This scene, along with the scenes at the All Valley Tournament at the end of the movie. He never intends to be bad, he never intends to misbehave. He just doesn’t understand how to deal with his emotions, due to a life of living with abuse, whether by family or by Kreese. His intentions, as I’ve mentioned throughout, were never to fight Daniel. They were just to talk to Ali. They were just to fix what he had broken.

Like I said before, Johnny Lawrence is not an inherently bad person. On the inside, he’s a good person, who bad things have happened to.

[wayward-dreamer]

If It Was To Work

Title: If It Was To Work

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,949

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, Smut, Fingering, p in v, Happy Ending, SPOILERS FOR 15.08 OUR FATHER WHO AREN’T IN HEAVEN

Summary: Dean gave Sam some great advice. Sam just wishes he’d take his own advice sometimes.They had a lot on their plate with their Chuck situation, but that doesn’t mean they can’t take on an old-fashion, black and white case. That also doesn’t mean they can’t go out and celebrate a job well done afterwards.Walking into that bar and seeing you was the last thing Dean thought was going to happen.Maybe Sam’s right. Maybe he should listen to his own advice.**SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR 15.08 OUR FATHER WHO AREN'T IN HEAVEN**

A/N: My first one-shot on Tumblr! Find it on AO3 too! I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think! :)

Some would probably say that going off to kill some vampires in Iowa while they still have their God problem would be a bad idea.

To Dean, it was the best idea Sam had that week.

He had been itching to get back to a regular, normal, non-Chuck related hunt for weeks and he was very glad to be hacking heads off vamps just outside of Des Moines.

Taking out a cloth from his back pocket, Dean walked towards the Impala as he wiped the cloth down the length of the machete to get the blood off. He dropped the machete into the weapons box, just as Sam came up behind him and did the same. Dean shut the trunk and walked over to the driver’s side, getting in and starting the engine.

“I don’t know about you, but I could go for a cool one” Dean smirked, as the radio started.

Sam nodded. “You know what, let’s do it.”

Dean frowned. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean we haven’t done a victory beer at a bar in a while, so why not?” Sam shrugged.

“Okay.” Dean said, looking between Sam and the road. “Better take this opportunity now before you change your mind.”

Sam rolled his eyes, as he scrolled through his phone. Dean continued to drive for about 15 minutes before they spotted a roadside bar. He pulled the Impala up into an empty spot, before shutting the engine off. He got out of the car, as Sam followed behind him.

“You grab a spot, I’ll get the beers” Sam said, as he took in the large gathering within the bar.

Dean looked around the bar, taking in his surroundings. They hadn’t done this in a long time, and he was glad that they didn’t have to get back to the Bunker straight away. No one had any leads on Chuck, so they could take a day if they wanted to. At this point they needed to. As his eyes roamed over the patrons, they stopped on one person in particular.

She leaned over the pool table, lining up the shot, giving him a great view of her ass in the dark blue jeans that she wore. Round, perky and irresistible. Perfect. As she stood from taking the shot, Dean caught a glimpse of the tattoo she had on her right arm; a sleeve of vines and flowers. She laughed, as the two burly men they were playing with forked over a roll of cash each. The girl had confidence. Dean smirked, already taking out some cash to buy her a drink. Something about her felt familiar, though, as he continued to admire her.

When she turned away from her friend and faced the rest of the bar, it hit him like a fucking Mack Truck. A flood of memories flashed through his mind, all at once, knocking the wind out of him.

Y/N. Y/N was here. In the same bar as him. After all these years of never having run into each other, not even on a hunt, and here she was.

Damn it. This had to be Chuck’s doing, right?

He suddenly heard a snapping sound and saw something waving in front of his face. He shook his head and looked away, facing Sam. His brother was wide-eyed and confused, his forehead creased as he looked at him.

“Dean, where the hell were you?” he asked.

Dean shook his head again, lifting the beer to his lips and taking a large gulp from it. “N-nothing. I mean, nowhere. Nothing. Shut up.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, bewildered by Dean’s sudden odd behaviour. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” Dean started to answer Sam but when he looked up, he saw that Y/N was walking towards the bar.

She was wearing a tight black Led Zeppelin t-shirt, and her Y/C/H flowing behind her as she walked. However, much like him, she took in her surroundings and stopped in her tracks when she saw him. Sam saw Dean go completely still and wondered what was happening. He turned around and knew straight away what was going on. No wonder he was acting strangely. Dean slowly got up from the stool at their high top, leaving his drink behind. As he hesitantly walked closer to Y/N, her eyes widened in shock. He was just a few inches away from her when he took in her features. She hadn’t changed; she was still as beautiful as ever.

Y/N took him in. How was it possible that the man became more attractive with age? She looked past him at Sam, who gave her a small smile. She couldn’t believe that in all the years since she and Dean parted ways, she would be seeing them again now and in the most random of bars.

“H-hi” she squeaked out, as she moved closer to Dean.

Dean nodded. “Hey.”

She brushed her knuckles together, as she looked around the room. She was trying to avoid looking at him too long, for fear that she might burst into tears.

“How are you?” she asked, only glancing at him before looking away again.

A sad smile crossed Dean’s face when he realised what she was doing. She was forgetting how well he knew her.

“Have I really changed that much that you can’t look at me?” he said, in the most light-hearted manner he could muster up, but it still held a sadness behind it.

She finally looked up at him. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You’d be surprised” Dean grimaced, wishing he had brought his drink over with him.

Everything else in that bar faded into the background as Dean and Y/N continued to look at each other. A range of thoughts and emotions flooded Dean’s mind as he thought back on how they had left things the last time they were together. There was so much about that night that he regretted, the most painful of which he knew was something neither of them had gotten over. It was the greatest regret of his life; letting her go. Pushing her away. What he didn’t know was that she completely understood why he did what did. She always understood.

Y/N looked back at her friend who was still preoccupied by the men they were playing pool with. She turned back to Dean and knew she had a couple of options here. She either walked away and went back to her friend, forgetting about him completely. Or… she asked him to have a drink with her, for old times’ sake. She took a deep breath, ready to ask him and possibly open herself up to being heartbroken again.

“Hey, you wanna grab a drink with me and Sammy?” Dean asked, beating her to it. The same thoughts had been running through his head; about whether or not to ask her.

She smiled properly this time, a full wattage smile that reached her shining eyes. “I’d love that.”

Y/N walked over with Dean to their table and smiled at Sam. Sam immediately got up from his seat and hugged her, causing her to laugh.

“I swear you got bigger somehow” she laughed.

“How are you?” he asked, smiling.

“I’m good” she said, simply. “Honestly can’t complain. I know you two have it worse.”

“What? You been keeping tabs on us?” Dean asked, intrigued as to whether she was or not.

“Not really, but… Garth talks. A lot” she replied, laughing again.

Dean scoffed as he smirked. “Figures.”

They all proceeded to catch up on everything from the past years. Y/N told them how she now had a place in town, somewhere to come back to after a hunt. Sam told her about the Bunker and she was suddenly giddy.

“Oh man, I gotta see it” she smiled.

“Yeah, first time we got there… couldn’t really believe that it was real” Sam said, smiling too.

Dean smirked as he watched Y/N. “You should, you know? See it, I mean. You should uh… You should come over some time.”

Y/N looked at him and smiled softly. “I will.”

Sam looked between Dean and Y/N. He remembered Dean telling him about what happened between them and knew there was a lot of things that were left unfinished between them.

“You know, I’m not feeling too great” Sam said, getting up from his seat. “I’m going to get a cab, head back to our motel. Leave you two to catch up.”

Dean glared at Sam while Y/N wasn’t looking. He knew what he was doing.

“Oh okay, well it was good to see you” she smiled, as she hugged him again.

“You too” Sam said.

As he moved behind her, Sam turned around and gestured to her. Getting Dean’s attention, he mouthed “talk” before he gave Dean a knowing smile and walked away. Dean shook his head but quickly turned back to Y/N before she noticed the silent conversation between him and his brother.

“Another round?” he asked.

“Sure” she replied.

Y/N and Dean sat across from each other, each of them had two empty beer bottles in front of them. They had both moved onto whiskey. Dean brought his glass to his lips, taking a large sip. Y/N turned the glass around in her hands, watching the amber liquid move around.

“Never in a million years did I think I’d see you again” she laughed, the sound of it somewhere between sincere and bitter. “I thought you and Sam were so good at hiding… I’d never run into you.”

Dean huffed. “Small world, I guess.”

She nodded and smiled sadly but didn’t say anything else.

“Listen, Y/N-” Dean started but she placed her hand on top of his to stop him. He looked at her and wondered what was wrong but was confused when she smiled at him.

“Dean, I know you’re about to apologise and you shouldn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong” she said.

“Didn’t do anything wrong? Are you kidding me? I left without even saying goodbye. All I gave you was a fucking note saying I had to go, and I was sorry” he said, his voice angry but lowered so no one heard them.

“Don’t you think I knew why? Dean, I knew you had to go back with your dad. I knew you would do anything for him, how important your family is to you. I get it, Dean. I always have. I don’t hold any of it against you, I don’t blame you for what you did. I never have” she explained, tightening her hold on his hand.

Dean looked up at her, his expression sad and yet bewildered by what she just said. She got it, why he had to leave. She understood.

He suddenly remembered the advice he gave Sam recently about Eileen.

She gets it, you know? She gets us, she gets the life.

It was with the same with Y/N.

If it was to work…

Could it work again? For them? Could they go back to what they were with everything that was going on with Chuck?

You don’t ever think about something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

Sam had said that to him once. When he would find himself thinking about Y/N over the years, he always thought about what Sam had said.

Y/N gripped his hand tighter, smiling as she looked down at their hands intertwined. She stroked her thumb over his knuckles, thinking back on all the times she had done it all those years ago.

“I missed you” she said, looking up at him.

Dean looked into her eyes. He could see what she was feeling in that moment because he felt the same. He had a decision to make. Let go of her hand, get in the Impala and drive away, leaving her behind. Or take her hand, go back to her place and pick up where they left off. Option 2 was tempting but he was scared. Scared of what might happen to her if he did. Then the words he said to Sam repeated themselves in his mind. He had to try.

Dean picked up his drink and gulped down the whiskey in one hit. Y/N did the same, knowing what was thinking and being on the same page as him, instantly. He took out a few bills from his wallet and put them under his glass, before taking her hand in his. He led her out of the bar and over to the Impala. Opening the door for her, she sat inside before he walked over to the driver’s side. Getting in behind the wheel, he started up the engine.

“So, where to?” he asked.

She smiled as he turned the radio on. Zeppelin. Just like old times. “Take a left at the exit.”

Dean pulled out of the parking lot and followed Y/N’s directions all the way to her house. When they arrived, he parked outside. It was a small, quaint one-storey, enough for her and maybe even someone else to live in. They got out of the car and he followed behind her as she guided him inside. It was spacious and decorated simply, yet it wasn’t empty by any means. The lounge flowed into the kitchen which had a door to the backyard and outdoor furnishings.

“Nice place” Dean said, looking around.

“It was my parents. When dad died after the ghoul hunt, he gave it to me, but I started hunting instead. When I realised I needed a safe place to come back to, I came back here” she explained.

Y/N walked closer to Dean. “You want another drink?”

He shook his head as she stood in front of him, close enough to smell her perfume.

“No” he replied, simply.

Dean pulled her closer, before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, instantly. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his came around her waist. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips still connected. He felt the same, like nothing had changed, and yet it somehow felt new.

She pulled away from the kiss but still kept her lips against his. “Down the hall, on the right.”

She leaned down to press her lips to neck, as he carried her to the bedroom. He was slightly distracted by her lips as he stumbled down the hallway but made it to the room without crashing into things.

She lowered herself from him, her feet firmly on the floor. They didn’t waste any time, as they kissed heatedly and began to remove their clothes. Dean pulled away to take her in as she stripped down to red bra and panties. She was as beautiful as the first time he saw her.

“Fuck” he groaned, as he leaned in and began kissing her neck.

She took his shirt in her hands and pushed it off, only pulling away from him to lift his black shirt over his head.

“Dean” she moaned as her hands roamed his chest.

Dean gently placed his hand behind her head, until she laid down on her back. He sat up to pull her bra off, and leaned in to place kisses along her breasts. His hand wandered down her body, his fingers feeling how wet she already was through her panties. He wanted her so badly, even after all this time apart. He missed her.

His hands trailed her body, feeling her smooth skin against his calloused hands. She whimpered, feeling his rough yet light, soothing touch. She closed her eyes as she thought about how they were in the past, and how much she still wanted him. So much time had passed since they were last together like this, but he still remembered the right pressure and movements that drove her crazy. He pulled her panties down her legs and slowly ran his fingers along her pussy.

“Dean” she sighed, in a needy whisper. She pushed herself up on her elbows and cupped his cheek in her hand. “Can we… can we do that later? I just…”

Dean smirked and leaned forward, nudging his nose against hers. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

She bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, just as lust blown as hers. “I want you inside me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, passionately, before he shifted back. He wasn’t about to waste any more time with her.

He quickly pushed his boxers down before he moved closer to her. Y/N pulled him as close as she could to her, wrapping her arms around his neck as he settled himself between her legs. He pressed his lips against hers, as his hands moved her legs to wrap around his waist, trying to get even closer to her if that was possible. She reached down between their bodies and took his length in her hand, holding it near her entrance. Dean moved his hips forward as he looked down at her, his cock slowly pressed into her. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, a small smile spread across her face. When he was fully inside her, he waited. He wanted to do this right and not rush things. Apparently Y/N had other ideas though, as she combed her fingers through his hair roughly, and pulled him in with her legs.

“Dean” she gasped against his lips. “Please move.”

Dean chuckled softly, kissing her once. “Someone’s impatient.”

She gripped his hair tighter and groaned. He glared down at her playfully as she winked, her eyes glinting with mischief. He shook his head and smirked, leaning down to kiss her once again.

Dean pushed his hips forward and then back. He set a slow pace, thrusting carefully and taking his time. She leaned up and kissed his neck, biting his collar bone as her arms wrapped tighter around him. They looked into each other’s eyes, seeing all the years of longing for each other and how much they still loved each other.

“Dean” she moaned. “Harder.”

Dean wrapped his arms around her back and sat up. He leaned back and sat her in his lap, looking right into her eyes and their arms came around each other. She moaned into his mouth as his lips captured hers, her hands in his hair as her hips rocked against his. His left hand wandered into her hair as his right held onto her hip, his fingers pressing into her flesh.

“Fuck” he groaned, as her hips came down hard, repeatedly.

“Dean… I love you” she said, a hitch in her voice.

His hips begin to rock harder against her, as he pulled her in even closer. He kissed her fiercely, lightly biting her lip.

“Dean, I… oh my God” she moaned loudly, as she kissed her neck, the spot that always drove her crazy.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he huffed. “You feel so damn good.”

“Dean, I… I’m close” she gasped.

Dean could feel it. Her hips started to move faster, stutter slightly as she became overwhelmed with what she was feeling.

“Let go for me, Y/N” he said, looking up at her.

“Dean, I…” she started but cut herself off as she moaned loudly.

Y/N’s eyes shut tightly, as she moaned his name repeatedly through her climax. Dean’s hips moved faster and harder, as he feels his own release. Y/N placed her hands on his neck, as her thumbs ran along his jaw.

“Dean, baby” she moaned sweetly, as she smiled at him. “Cum for me, Dean. Cum inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/N” he grunted as he came, spilling his seed inside her.

He rode out his climax, resting his forehead against her chest. Y/N held him close, her hands in his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

They came down from their high, breathing heavily. Dean lifted his head and looked up at her, his hand cupping her cheek and bringing her closer. Their lips met in a soft kiss, once, twice. Dean pulled away and looked at her again.

“I love you” he whispered, his breath still laboured from their love making.

Dean slowly pulled out of her, turned and laid down on his back. Y/N laid down next to him and pushed herself closer. He wrapped his arm around her as she laid her head on his chest and hooked her leg around his. They laid there in silence for a while, as they enjoyed the quiet and basked in the afterglow. Dean took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. How he was going to say what he wanted to since they got to her apartment.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, breaking the silence first.

Dean huffed a laugh. Of course, she knew that he wanted to say something.

He took another deep breath. “What would you say… if I said that I… if I said that I wanted to start things up again?” he asked, ripping off the Band-Aid.

Y/N turned and leaned her chin on his chest. Her eyebrows furrowed as she didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“What do you mean?” she asked him.

Dean brushed his hand down her arm, absentmindedly. “I mean that we hunt, together, and then we came back here… or the Bunker… together.”

She smiled softly as she thought about what he meant.

“Some things that have happened recently, they’re… they’re making me think differently about this life. About my life. I just know that now that we’re back here…” Dean explained, taking her hand in his. “I’m not ready to give it up again.”

She sighed as she leaned in and kissed his hand. “Me neither.”

“I know I’m risking everything again, doing this with you. I mean, we’re on God’s radar, and he could strike down at any minute but…” Dean started but stopped when she cut him off with her lips. She kissed him hard, pulling away and leaving him breathless.

“We can do it, Dean. Things are different now… scarier, yeah, sure but… I get it. I know what your life is and what it could mean, I know that joining you means I won’t be a regular, running-after-a-normal-monster hunter anymore. I know it and… I don’t care. Despite everything, despite whatever gets thrown at us… I know we can make it work” she said, as she shifted forward and leaned her forehead against his.

Dean smirked. She gets it. She gets the life. “So… we’re really doing this?”

She grinned back. “Yeah. We are.”

Dean leaned in and kissed her, passionately. He slowly rolled her onto her back, the kiss growing and becoming more intense. They both knew the risks, hell, they knew they could die at any minute, but as long as they had each other they had something more to fight for. The years of missing each other and now finding each other again, it would all be worth it when they got out of this alive. He was determined. They would find a way to get rid of Chuck, they would find a way to live a comfortable life, and when that happened, he wanted Y/N by his side.

The next morning, after the sun had risen and they made love once again, Dean made her breakfast. They ate and laughed together. Dean answered a call from Sam about another hunt he found. Y/N packed up her duffle bag and placed it next to Dean’s in the Impala’s trunk. They smiled at each other as she sat next to him, listening to classic tunes as they went to meet up with Sam and go off on the next hunt.

Together.