#truly let my guard down even at 3 am alone in my bedroom with the door locked | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

admiringlove · 3 years

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hurtful things

+synopsis: genshin boys and the hurtful things they said.

+genre: angst; headcanons.

+characters: kaeya; diluc; childe; zhongli.

+warnings: swearing; crying; implied panic attack.

+order: hey bubs! i saw you doing requests and i HAD to ask for genshin angst :) spare me some tears pls <//3 preferably w kaeya or diluc or childe :) [submitted by @crackheadsara]

+author’s note: okay so i included zhongli bc he’s the love of my life, also i needed comfort from him after writing such hurtful things :D

+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.

— KAEYA.

“i’m better off without you.”

you know from the way your door was knocked in the middle of the night on a weekday after months, that it’s kaeya. you rub your eyes sleepily, trudging towards the door as anger and doubt fuse into a nasty green in your mind.

you unlock the door, pulling it open to see the man with the eyepatch tapping his foot on the deck of your home impatiently. he smirks when his eye lands on you, attempting to walk in but stopping himself when he realizes you're standing at the door, unmoving.

"kaeya, it's three in the morning. and it's monday. i have to report to jean in three hours," you mumble tiredly as you look up at him. the lamp grass by your windowsill outside and the moonlit night accentuated his cerulean eyes and contrasting coffee-colored skin. he frowns, peering down at you as he asks, "may i come in?"

you shrug, opening the door wide as you let the man in. he places his sword on the table and proceeds to walk into the bedroom when you ask, "where have you been for the past two weeks?"

"work," his reply is the same. you let out a sigh in impatience as you retort, "that's the same excuse as always."

he was tired and wanted to sleep off the fatigue from his latest mission. but when he hears you say that, something in him snaps and he turns around, his jaw clenched and a fixed glare making you a little agitated. he raises an eyebrow as he says, "well, unlike you, i am an actual important member of the knights of favonius."

"kaeya, all i meant was that you're always gone. you never write a letter back even if i send you one, and you somehow manage to come back every single time, expecting that it doesn't hurt me. what am i supposed to do?" your voice is small as you look down, hair drooping towards the ground. you're not even yelling at him, you're just worried. he always leaves you alone(sometimes you tag along, but you couldn't tell why nowadays he'd leave you alone without some sort of warning).

"does it ever occur to you that you're just a hindrance?" he bites back, thinking that you're trying to put up a front. you flinch at his words, causing him to force a jeer before he starts again, "you always come along, so maybe i wanted to be away from you for a bit. that's why i leave without a warning so i don't have to tend to your yapping all day. because i'm better off without you."

you gasp as you look up to his figure, now retreating to your shared bedroom. you hear him fall onto the bed with a content sigh as you stand there, wiping at your tears incessantly as hiccups escape your lips. you bit your tongue to stop yourself from crying, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle the sounds so you don't disturb kaeya. you get a quick peek in, eyes widening when you see him sound asleep and tucked in.

so that's how it was, you think.

the next morning, kaeya wakes up to a cold bed as his arm reaches out to an empty space. his eyes immediately pry open as he wakes up, to see that you weren't here.

ah, he ponders to himself, you must've gone to tend to your duties.

he stretches, letting out a yawn before walking out to the kitchen. he smiles when he sees a plate of food left for him on the countertop with a note from you. but somehow, something felt very wrong about this whole ordeal. this had happened before—he had come back from insanely long missions to you before, so what felt different?

and then it hits him. the things he said last night. he frantically looks around, his azure eyes completely drowned in horror as he notices small changes in your shared household. a few picture frames are missing on the living room walls, your keychain isn't on the bookshelf anymore, and worst of all, when he runs into the closet, half of your clothes are gone.

did you really feel that bad about what he said?

in panic, he runs out and keeps going till he reaches the headquarters of the knights. he barges in this time, not returning the greetings of the guards upfront as he walks into jean's office.

"where are they?" he pants, "i-i messed up, do you know where they are?"

jean's eyes widen as she says, "our associates were having a hard time handling with the fatui in liyue harbor so they volunteered to go there for sometime."

"how long has it been?"

"they left long ago, it's about to be around ten hours since," she says. kaeya's heart shatters as he hears those words. he hadn't expected you to outright leave like that, but if you had said the same things to him, he definitely would've stormed out. his voice cracks as he looks at the ground in shame, "h-how long until they'll be back?"

"i.. don't know."

he regrets everything he's said. he truly does because he doesn't even notice that tears are streaming down his cheeks until jean comes to his aid. he hates himself for all of it—he hates that he has to live in a home where traces of you are visible everywhere; worst of all, he hates how he knows he lost you for good. even if you come back, he knows you wouldn’t run and melt into his arms like you did before. you’re gone now, fading into the darkness and away from him.

maybe it was for the best.

— DILUC.

“you’re nothing but a burden.”

after taking on a few abyss mages and mitachurls, diluc lets a grunt out in pain before you see the slash on his right arm. you gasp, pulling him to the side of the lake as you pull out a bandage and cotton from your bag to clean his wounds. he's reluctant to it at first, but he sits there quietly and broods as you clean the blood with cotton and some type of healing ointment.

you tie the bandage on his arm, a tiny bit of vermillion liquid seeping through the white cloth before sitting down next to him, finally catching a breath. sighing, you look up at him and say, "that was reckless."

"no, what you did was reckless. who told you to come along with me to dadaupa gorge? you knew what you were getting into when you came along, so don't put this on me," he grumbled, frowning as you look at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. you are sort of hurt, but you know he's only saying this in faux indignation, so it's okay. you chuckle out, beginning, "diluc, i was-"

"i don't know why i even bother with you at this point," he exasperates, looking into the distance behind you. he curses slightly under his breath, his rouge eyes filled to the brim with anger as it finally overflows, "you're nothing but a burden."

your eyes suddenly flick to gape at him in disbelief. you stand up, your voice hitching in your throat as you ask, "diluc, you mean that?"

and it all simmers down into ashes when he mumbles "of course i do" under his breath. your vision is blurry as you walk away from the red-haired man, your body trembling as you almost give away that you're crying your eyes out. you walk back in the direction the two of you came from, leaving your broken heart in the hands of diluc, who sat by the lake not muttering a word after.

he knows he's said things he doesn't mean; he does that all the time, but you probably knew that. he figures you're leaving to catch a breath of fresh air—to be away from the tension-filled environment for a bit, you had a habit of doing that at home. he sighs as he ponders over his words for a bit. he knew it was wrong to display such harshness to you, but you probably knew he didn't mean anything by it. he always bubbled over rash things when he was frustrated.

the sun sets in front of him, painting hues of aubergine and peach as it flows down. he wonders where you are, getting up from his spot by the lake to venture towards the path you walked off.

only when he can't find you, is when he thinks that you might've actually taken offense to his words. although he cares about you sincerely, he finishes his mission first, getting a lead on the abyss order—because protecting monstadt was his first priority. you lingered in his mind every second of every day till he finally got back home. and when he didn't find you there, he asks adelinde about it, who only shakes her head and tells him, "i'm sorry, master diluc, but i haven't seen them come back. i thought they were with you."

it all pieces together in his mind now, how a small gasp had escaped your lips when he had called you a burden. the way you nodded begrudgingly, getting up and walking away from his presence as your shoulders trembled. the way he could hear you choke back a sob, but still ignored it, thinking you had overreacted in the situation.

he searches the whole city for you. he searches every nook and corner, and even walks into the headquarters of the knights of favonius(he ignores kaeya's teases instead of biting back this time). and when he finally sees you, he holds himself back. his hand is suspended awkwardly in the air as he reaches out for you, your back turned towards him.

maybe this was better—maybe it was a good thing that you had walked away from him. this way, the abyss order won't be able to harm you. this way, he won't be able to harm you. this way, you'll be safe and sound, away from the storm known as diluc ragnvindr.

— CHILDE.

“it’s not like you mean anything to me.”

it's not often you see childe. he's always in liyue, and you're here, stuck in monstadt or snezhnaya. it's cold today(as it always is) in snezhnaya, the snow covered almost everything outside as you looked out of your window, sipping on hot coffee as you sigh at the wilting roses on the sill. they'd wilted when you had gone to monstadt and you didn't have the heart to plant new ones.

just thinking about the blue-eyed childish man would make your heart bloom and cheeks flustered. you longed to spend more time with him, really. if only he wasn't affiliated with the fatui, he'd be able to spend more time with you. it had been months since you had seen him, and you longed to be in his arms once again, but who knows when that'll happen again? whenever he comes home, he chooses to spend a night with you and then head back. he'd laugh alongside you, tell you about his adventures, and give small reactions when you told him about yours. and the next morning, you'd wake up to an empty bed with a small note by the table, saying how he has to leave for work.

a knock at your door snaps you out of your entranced state. as you open the lock and look out, you see childe, standing there with a tired grin and disheveled hair as he walks in without a word. he hands you a small paper bag, saying, "i brought you back something from liyue this time."

the same excuse, you think. it's always the same. he brings back small mementos and souvenirs as a pretense for staying, and by the time you think you can forgive him, he's gone. he plops down onto the sofa, stretching his arm out so you could join him. the thought of confronting him crosses your mind, but you shake it off—since he had only just gotten back.

the night is the same as always. talking about each others' adventures, eating dinner by the fireplace, laughing alongside one another until you hit the bed. it's quiet now as you watch over his sleeping figure, his lapis-colored eyes now hidden. you sigh as you lay there for hours on end, twiddling with his brown hair as you wait for him to wake up(so this time you can actually say goodbye).

when his eyes flutter open, he's a little taken aback when he looks over at you to see you wide awake. his brows furrow just a smidge as he says, "you're up."

"well, i wanted to say goodbye this time," you chuckle dryly, "you always leave without waking me up."

"i don't like the way you said that," he says, getting up from his position on the bed. you look away from him, your eyes displaying hurt as you murmur, "i don't like the way you leave."

"well, it's my job. it's not like i'm an adventurer like you, wasting my time around. i'm a harbinger and i have responsibilities," he says. his voice is neither too soft and nor too prickly, and you can tell that he's a little worked up by the way he lightly nips on the skin of his bottom lip as his gaze bores into you.

"i didn't say you don't. all i said was that you could maybe sometimes stay for more than one night. it feels like you're using me, and when you're bored, you leave."

"oh?" he cocks an eyebrow as he stands up, "i'm using you, huh?"

you grimace at the tone of his voice, and when you look at him, you notice the sheer annoyance he puts up towards you. your voice is small when you ask him if he loves you—because you don't know anymore. seeing him once in a few months for the past few years has sure hurt you more than anything, and if you don't tell him now, then you might never get a chance.

"what if i say i don't?" he smirks, walking up to you, "it's not like you mean anything to me. what if i agree that i am using you to make myself happy until i'm bored, so i can then throw you away?"

he doesn't like what he's saying either. his mind is screaming at him to stop, but he's worked up. he's irritated by the way you jabbed at him first thing in the morning, even though he knows you're right. his heart almost stops when he looks at the expression on your face after he says those words, and as he reaches out his hand for you, you turn away.

your voice cracks, and he's sure his heart did as well when you mumble, "i-i'd like you to leave, please."

"wait, i didn't mean-"

"tartaglia," your eyes look into his, perhaps for the last time, as you give him a sad smile, "you don't have to come back to me anymore."

it hurts him as he leaves your home that morning. it hurts him when he comes back months later to see that your home is now empty. it hurts him because he tarnished the you that was once his.

it hurts him, but he thinks it's for the best if you stay away from him if all he does is bring you pain.

— ZHONGLI.

“i’d like you to leave me alone.”

zhongli was never one to pick fights. he was peaceful; his thoughts were positive(most of the time), and he almost always preferred to talk about his problem rather than fighting about it—he believes that fighting will only bring pain, so why not confide in one another about our problems instead?

he's quiet. he's not shy(it's quite the opposite, actually), but he's one to prefer to only talk when absolutely necessary. he's the type to listen rather than speak, saying something like, "we have two ears and one mouth. speak less than you listen."

he smiles when his mind goes back to the time when he said that to you while having a cup of tea together, and you'd replied, "my mother used to tell me that when i was a child."

because it's true; every child in liyue harbor has heard those words at least once in their lives. the quality of listening is appreciated more than the quality of speaking—and zhongli, for one, was a listener.

you, on the other hand, were a speaker. you always woke him up every morning with a smile as bright and everlasting as the sun, babbling about breakfast and tea as he got up from the bed. you were the one that carried conversations on your shoulders on morning walks, you were the one that intertwined your fingers with his as the two of you walked amongst flowers, adoring them as you talked about the contrasting colors of silk flowers and glaze lilies. he loved you for that. he loved you because you were a speaker. he loved you because you were a perfect balance, the only one who could soften his hardened heart. the only one whom he'd chosen to wake up next to in the mornings, the only one whom he'd let ruffle his hair without asking(because he secretly liked it).

so why had he reversed the roles tonight? why was he the one to bubble out his frustrations to you, speaking in a cold and stern manner instead of the loving tone that was only reserved for you? why was he the one to speak tonight, and why were you the one to listen?

it's not like he was actually frustrated—he was only thinking about something else as you asked him what he wanted for dinner. it surely wasn't your fault when he had poured over turbulent words to you. and he knows that the ones that hurt the most probably were, "i'd like you to leave me alone."

he looks up at the stars, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he walks back into his shared home with you. he looks around, and when there's no sign of you, he feels himself break apart even more.

had you actually left? he wants to run to you and tell you he hadn't meant any of those words because he hadn't. he wants to touch you, to caress you, to please you, to make you smile—and he wants to admit he was wrong. he wants to make it right, but he doesn't know where you are.

he walks into the empty bedroom, sitting on the cold mattress as his eyes sting. he doesn't understand what's happening, or why there are small drops of water falling from his eyes. he doesn't understand why everything feels heavy all of a sudden—his heart, his throat his lungs, everything. he doesn't understand why he feels like he's trapped in a box, and the water seems to be filling up more quickly than he'd prefer. he wants to reach for air, but he can't.

he couldn't breathe without you.

he hears the door close and immediately gets up in haste to walk to the living room where he sees you take off your boots. you turn around to see him, his disheveled hair and frantic eyes finally calming as he walks over to you and engulfs you in a warm embrace. his throat cleared up, and so did his heart and lungs as he mumbles against your ear, "i'm so sorry."

you smile smally, looking up at him as you cup his cheeks and wipe a stray tear, and mutter, "it's okay, zhongli. stress gets to the best of us."

god, how he loves you. he places a small peck on the top of your forehead as he feels his lips turn upward at your touch and the scent of glaze lilies lingering over you tells him that you'd been to the flower garden. he sleeps with your fingers weaved with his that night and pulls you even closer if you untangle with him in sleep.

he makes a promise to himself saying he'd never hurt you like that again, and he keeps it.

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

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Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 9

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

“Fuck yeah....” Jungkook’s grip on my thighs tightened, tugging me closer as he slid into me, deeper and i spluttered a bit, spitting water all over him.

“This is a bad idea. “ i choked, blinking the water out of my eyes as the shower overhead kept pouring a whole deluge on top of us and Jungkook frowned, glancing at me in annoyance.

“I’m going to gag you the next time we have sex.” He grunted, pressing me into the tiled wall of the bathroom and I winced when he pulled out fully and rammed back in, clearly pissed.

I pouted.

“I’m not good with water. “ I whined, eyes still closed because the water, Christ. It dripped into my eyes and all over my body and i couldn’t even enjoy being fucked right now because I was mortally afraid that Jungkook’s hands were going to slip, he was going to drop me on my butt and i was going to break my tailbone.

Jungkook groaned, more frustration than pleasure and gripped my ass harder, holding me up at a better angle and fucking right back into me, slide made easier both from his cum from earlier and the water.

“Sera, sweetheart...if you could just shut up for a couple of mutes, I’ll be done. And then i swear I will never try to seduce you in the shower again. Ever.” He begged.

“ Why can’t you wait till i finish showering? We literally had sex ten minutes ago, why are you so thirsty? ” I glared at him. Or tried to . But I couldn’t .

Because water.

‘Okay that’s it,” He pulled out, and I hated that sudden emptiness and this was probably going to be a problem, me being used to having him inside me all the time.

He grabbed the back of my knees, prompting me to get down. But my muscles were still a bit too weary he was dripping wet so I slid down a little, panicking.

I gripped his shoulders hard, and he laughed, shaking his head at the look on my face.

“ I won’t drop you, little one. Stop looking petrified.” He chuckled, before carefully unwrapping my thighs from around his waist and lowering me to the floor.

“You alright?” He brushed the wet hair off my face and I nodded.

“Can we at least kiss in the shower?”

I laughed.

“You can kiss me anywhere you want.” i reached out to press my lips against his and pulled back to smile at him, tilting my head as he ran his fingers down my neck, fingers fluttering against my pulse gently.

“And can I drink from you?” He asked softly and i froze.

The words made me pause.

“Jungkook...” I whispered, staring at my feet.

I couldn’t believe he wanted to.

He knew my secret. Knew that nothing good would come from feeding from me. That my blood in his veins would do nothing but take away his will, and the scent and taste of it all was just a facade.

That everything about me was a lie. The innocence, the beauty , the delicate build...all a distraction from what I truly was : a dangerous, manipulative being. Someone capable of doing a lot of damage.

“Please. When I start courting you, I want to be able to feed from you, angel... It’s how we vampires build our bond. ...”He said gently.

I laughed without really feeling it.

“I would never say no to you. You know that....but... you... you know .” I couldn’t finish.

“What do I know?” He asked gently, running his thumb across my lip.

“ you know what my blood does to vampires. You know that I can use it against you.”

“But I also know that you won’t.” He said simply and I looked up at him.

“I trust you. “ He said simply. i swallowed.

“Besides, most women would be glad that their husbands are terrified of them.” He chuckled.

I knew he was joking but I still felt tears sting.

I couldn’t bear the thought of Jungkook being afraid of me.

“I won’t ever do it you know. “ I choked out. “ Take away your consent... I’ve never done it on anyone who didn’t deserve it...even with those boys in college , I was just scared that they would attack me again... That they would bite me again and i was bleeding out and I felt so cold...and i was so scared so I just did the first thing I could think of... I never meant to hurt them... I was just so scared and...” I sobbed out and his arms came around me , pulling me into a hug and I felt the tears spill over, soaking his chest as i clung to him.

“Baby...no...please don’t cry...it’s alright.. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have joked about that...I’m sorry Sera....”

“I’m not a monster. “ I whispered. “ Please don’t be scared of me Gukkie... I’d never hurt you or Joowon.... I’m not a monster.. I don’t want to be. I just.. I just wanted to be normal. It’s not my fault I’m the way i am.... ”

Jungkook pulled back to cup my face between his hands, I bit my lips, another sob building up when I saw how wet his lashes were.

“Baby look at me...” He smiled, a watery smile , “ I would never think that. I have never for a second considered you as a threat to me or my son.... you’re...”He shook his head, “ Darling, You’re not normal. You’re perfect.”

“Now you’re just mocking me.” I muttered, looking away. But he made a noise of protest.

“I’m not joking. You are easily the most generous person I’ve ever met, Sera... You give so freely of yourself to everyone, whether they are deserving of it or not... You play with the babies , you take Joo Won out on walks and play ball with him, you do things for me even when I push you away and....God, do you not know how amazing and kind and generous you are???!! “ He kissed me on the lips, hard , before pulling back.

I stared at him, laughing a little but he wasn’t done.

“ I’ve never seen anyone as selfless as you. . Just the fact that you’ve given me the privilege to be here, hold you like this, tells me how kind and forgiving you are... You gave a bastard like me a chance, even though I did nothing but hurt you, over and over again.... You’re beautiful , So beautiful, my angel..In fact I was going to wait at least till we were out of the shower, but to hell with it.”

I blinked , surprised , when he grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before rushing out . I grabbed my own robe, surprised, tying it together before following him out to the bedroom.

He was fumbling in his closet and I felt my heart drop when I saw the small red box. He opened it easily pulling out a glittering necklace with a pendant and a small vial hanging off it.

“Is that....?” I couldn’t even say it.

“My birthstone. It’s a sapphire. “ He smiled. “ And this vial has my blood. You put this on and anyone who comes near you will know that you’re being courted. By me. “

“You ... really? You mean this? You really want this?” I asked , nervous and jittery.

He hesitated, coming closer and gently pulling my hand up .

Jungkook placed the necklace on my hand, gently curling my fingers closed.

“Whether you put it on, or not. it’s yours. There’s no one else in this world, I would ever want to give this to.” He smiled softly.

“How dare you!” I bawled. “ I can’t even take a picture because we’re dressed like this!!”

He laughed.

“So, i hope that’s a yes?”

“Yes, you infuriatingly beautiful, beautifully infuriating bastard....! Put it on me!”

Still laughing , he plucked the necklace off my hand and moved behind me. I smiled as he locked it in place behind my neck, pressing a small kiss to my skin.

“Thank you. For giving me the privilege to love you.” He breathed against my skin, wrapping me in a warm hug and i closed my eyes.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook. You’re never getting rid of me now.” I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...I was thinking... .” I began carefully glancing at Jungkook who stood leaning against the bed post, fiddling with his phone while I ran a brush through my hair before tying it up into a messy ponytail. He was already dressed in jeans and a muscle t and I was ogling his nipples through the mirror. Last night, he’d finally let me bite them.

“Yes, princess?” He smiled indulgently, looking up and running his eyes up and down my body as usual. I loved that. Being with Jungkook had taught me a lot of things about myself. Things I never knew I could enjoy.

Like dressing up and being looked at . I’d spent a long time hiding in the shadows, wary of who I was, of letting someone see me for what I was. Feeling beautiful was a distant dream because I just didn’t want to be someone dangerous. Didn’t want anyone to look at me and see a monster.

But standing here, in the comfort of my own room, dressed in a strapless yellow blouse and a flowy white skirt, with his eyes on me, I felt absolutely beautiful. I fixed the necklace around my neck so it shone bright .

“ its Saturday. Not a lot of kids at the day care center so I don’t have to be there at all... Would the five hundred year old vampire be willing to spend a day indulging the twenty one year old human’s love for cotton candy and tandem bike rides by the river?”

Jungkook laughed.

“That’s something Joo Won would come up with. Are the two of you trying to play me again?”

Thwarted, I gave him a pout.

“It’s a beautiful day Jungkook!! Jo o Won loves the river... i took him there with Somi when you you were holed up with my father for two weeks and he had such a good time!! “

“You know...if you’re going to be the parental figure in his life, you need to learn to better resist his puppy dog eyes.” Jungkook said drily. “ Besides, I was hoping it could just be the two of us today. Celebrate our courtship? “

I frowned.

“I’m not leaving Joo Won alone... He’ll be bored.” I said firmly.

“Alright...how about you ask him yourself and let him decide?” He suggested with a smile.

I hesitated , suspicious.

Alright.

i followed Jungkook downstairs to the huge foyer and then past the guards to the dining room for breakfast.

To my surprise, Joo Won sat at the table with my father, both of them dressed in identical outfits. White t shirts, white pants and shoes , digging into toast and eggs.

“Sera !! Sera!! Grandpa Hwang is taking me fishing!!!” Joo Won seemed to be vibrating out of his skin in excitement and i glanced at Jungkook in shock.

“you planned this.” I protested.

He shrugged.

“It was actually I who suggested it. i intend to get to know my grandson better.” My father said with a bright smile and I felt the tears sting again as he looked at me, eyes warm and happy.

“Oh, dad...” I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

“You’re glowing my dearest. And what do I smell?” He pulled back, eyes landing on the necklace. “ Ah. Finally plucked up the courage, have you my boy?”

He gave Jungkook a wink and a grin.

Jungkook bowed respectfully, smiling.

“Excellent. Once all this distressing stuff with Tae Kwan is over, we will celebrate your betrothal in a grand manner. For now, let me take my handsome fishing partner and get out of your hair, with the promise to bring you a delicious catch for dinner tonight. Perhaps together? As a family?” My father smiled wide, eyes trained on Jungkook and he went red.

“Yes, sir.”

My father harrumphed.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to be calling me...”

I laughed as Jungkook went redder.

“Sorry.. I.. yes father. We will join you for dinner. “ He smiled a genuine smile and my father beamed at him.

“Excellent....now sit down and let’s eat.”

We sat next to my father and I remembered the first time my father had invited Jungkook to sit for breakfast with us.

“Honey, would you like a drink?” i teased, fluttering my fingers against my neck and Jungkook flushed. My father guffawed heartily, highly amused.

“Ahh yes... that was the morning i realized my daughter was a complete fool for you, Jungkook ah. “ He chuckled.

“She told me about herself, father.” Jungkook said softly and my father looked surprised. He gave me a smile .

“It is good be honest with each other. I’m glad she did.” He said softly. “You may be overwhelmed by it, Jungkook ah. We have never seen anything like her. I haven’t encouraged her to pursue it because I’m not sure how it would affect her. Her blood is magic....but she herself isn’t. I don’t want her abilities robbing her of her life, especially because we don’t know the true extent of them.”

I bit my lips.

‘I won’t use them .” I said softly .

“You shouldn’t. They take a toll on your mind and I don’t ever want to see you in that condition again.” My father said firmly.

Jungkook gave me a curious glance but I shook my head.

“Please don’t worry about me father . I have Jungkook now. He’s going to keep me safe. Even though you no longer have to pay him for it.” I laughed.

My father chuckled.

We finished breakfast, with Jungkook and my father talking about business while Joo Won told me all the fishes he could name and how their feeding habit varied. He had a great love for books and his birthday was coming up in a few weeks. I had already bulk ordered a bunch of his favorite authors for him.

When we were finally done, we walked out to the driveway where two cars stood, one to take me and Jungkook out for the day and a golf cart for my father to drive Joo Won down to the lake.

“We’ll be home for dinner then.” Jungkook gave my father a hug and my father looked positively ecstatic at the gesture. I knew he had always loved him deeply and as Jungkook moved away to tie Joo Won’s shoe laces, I could help but snuggle up to his side.

“you knew.” I said gently.

My father hummed, ruffling my hair affectionately.

“Knew what , my dearest?”

“That I would fall in love with him. You knew and that’s why you brought her here. You love him deeply and you wanted him by your side. To keep him and Joo Won safe.”

My father smiled.

“you are perceptive. Yes... I have always regarded Jungkook as my son. i wanted him here where I could protect him. And that’s why i brought him here. And i hoped that you would both grow fond of each other.... But it wasn’t because i knew you would fall in love with him.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It was because I knew he would fall in love with you.”

I turned to look up at him and he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“ I told you dearest. i will never settle for anything but your complete happiness. And I think that is with Jungkook.” His eyes shifted away and I followed his gaze to where Jungkook was kneeling in front of his son, nuzzling his hair and hugging him tight.

“They are your family now and I am at peace.” He said softly.

Jungkook and Joo Won straightened and moved towards us, identical grins on their faces.

“He’s all ready .” Jungkook said softly.

“Excellent. Come then young master Jeon...let’s go see what treasures the water fairy will bring us today....” My father took Joo Won’s hand and Joo Won’s eyes went wide. Giving me one last kiss on my cheek, my father led him away.

“The water fairy?”

“Why yes, haven’t you heard of her? come... I’ll tell you all about it.”

I watched the pair of them walk up to the golf cart on the driveway.

I turned back to Jungkook smiling and holding my hand out.

“Looks like You get to have me all to yourself today, Jungk-”

The gunshot rang out behind me, right as my fingers brushed Jungkook’s.

Terror as I’d never known flooded my veins as i froze, eyes trained on Jungkook who was already moving. My fingers shook, breath ripped right out of my lung, blood turning to ice in my veins as I turned around.

The first thing that caught my eye was the commotion across the lawn, guards subduing a man into the ground, a shot gun lying by his side.

And as my eyes finally saw the golf cart, I saw my father, slumped over the wheel, soaked in scarlet.

The scream that got torn out of me was feral.

My throat in agony as I raced to the vehicle. Joo won was on the floor, between my fathers legs and I realized that he had pushed the child down, covering him with his body right before the gunshot had rang out.

Jungkook pulled his son into his arms but I could only crawl over to my father, gripping his face as he gurgled, blood flowing out of him in a torrent.

“Daddy!” i whimpered... “ Oh God..no... Please...” I pressed my wrist to his mouth, but he was too weak to move, the shot gun bullet at such close quarters having left too much damage to his body. i saw the carnage, the blood and the mess and I sobbed in disbelief.

“We need to get him to the clinic...!!” Jungkook’s arms came around me , pulling me away as men crowded my father, lifting him off the seat and onto a stretcher.

“Se....ra...” My father’s broken voice made my knees buckle and I shoved Jungkook away, rushing to his side as they wheeled him to the nearest car.

“Daddy..I’m here... I’m right here... I’m going to fix this....we’re going to fix this...you’re going to be okay... Hang on... “ i begged and he chuckled weakly another spurt of blood dribbling down his lips.

“Wanted...to walk you...down ...”He closed his eyes, “the aisle...”

‘I sobbed out in agony, the pain so heavy and all consuming that i felt like i was being torn to shreds on the inside.

“You are...You are going to daddy...You’re the only one who can...the only one I have... Oh please God...no...”

“I love you...”Take care of her, Jungkook-ah...” He said firmly, eyes blazing red as he stared over me and i realized that Jungkook had followed me, was holding me up as he watched my father die. I saw him reach out and grip my father’s hand squeezing tight.

“They’ll be fine father. All of them. Rest easy...” Jungkook whispered and I felt my heart crack clean in two.

I saw my father’s eyes grow dimmer and felt hope leave my body leaving ice cold grief in its place. . No.. No...

“Dad...” I stopped crying, shock taking over me as i instinctively realized what was happening.

He was dying.

My father was dying.

His hands went up, touching my face gently.

“My favorite... “ He smiled weakly and I watched the light leave his eye forever. He slumped, softly, his hands falling away and I sagged. Jungkook caught me to his body.

“I’m so sorry angel.” i could feel the damp of his tears as he cried into my neck.

I felt the cold in my heart as the bond between my father an I pulsed and burned , really bright for one split second before fading abruptly, leaving icy cold behind.

Screams rang out from all around me, from the windows over head and from across the estate. Somewhere I heard my sister’s roar of rage .

Somi’s screams followed by Jimin’s sobs.

Everyone had felt it.

Everyone in the clan had felt the death of the Hwang clan’s leader, shot dead on his own lawn by some traitor who had managed to break his way in

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m so sorry.

feedback is loved.

Taglist :

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@jiminiscricket @yeotan07

@chimchimmy95bts @jinscharms

@danietoww04 @ jungoodeewani29

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fics #jungkook smut #jungkook vampire au #jungkook vampire #bts vampire au #bts au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts smut #bts fics

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smaidjor · 3 years

Text

i know they're losing (Chapter 1)

hi mothers and fuckers of the jury, this fic is a hot mess but so am I, please appreciate it. Also, obligatory disclaimer this is about the characters not the people, all that important stuff.

Some important notes:

1. You will probably hate Scott just a little at points. He has chronic dumb bitch syndrome and there's a whole lot of bullshit going on in his life that you don't see in this fic because it's not his pov. That being said, he's still a bit of a jerk.

2. This has a lot of lord of the rings lore. A LOT. You may be kinda confused if you're not a lord of the rings fan. It's fine, Jimmy's confused too, and all of it will be explained at some point.

3. The chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films. The general title is from I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski.

4. General content warnings: there is a little blood, and a little violence, and a lot of mentioned death and morbid jokes. If you don't do well with themes involving death this fic is probably not for you. There is also possibly going to be referenced emotional abuse and generally unhealthy ways to raise children, though that will be talked about much further down the line. I will also put specific cws at the start of each chapter, don't worry!

5. The alternate title for this was '10k words of flower husbands being sad'. You have been warned.

Title: i know they're losing

Chapter Title: under clouds, beneath the stars

Current Total Wordcount: 3740

Content Warning: referenced/past character death, very frank discussion of death.

Snippet:

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.”

AO3 Link

Actual fic under the cut

Scott’s hands are cold. That’s the first sign, the chill that’s uncharacteristic of an elf.

Scott’s chest hurts. That’s the second sign, the bone-deep ache he can’t seem to quell.

Scott is weaker than normal, and that’s the third sign, the one that confirms what’s happening beyond a shadow of a doubt. He’s fading, Scott thinks as he leans against a wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. He can’t say he’s surprised, not after all he’s been through; in fact, he’s more astonished it took so long to start.

In another world, it happens like this:

Scott’s hands are cold, and Shubble notices as he shows her around the nether. It’s worrying, a bit, how icy his skin is even in the boiling dimension, but Scott’s empire has always been cold, hasn’t it?

Katherine notices how long it’s been since Scott visited her, one of his few allies, and she worries, a bit. But Scott has always been distant, hasn’t he?

No one notices or worries enough to go check on him, and Scott fades away to nothing, cold and alone in his icy empire.

What actually happens is this:

Katherine has gotten word of the demon that haunts the server, and amongst all her worry, one of her thoughts is ‘has anyone checked on Scott?’. The answer is no, and next time she has a free day, she sets out for Rivendell. It’s not a long trip, not with elytra, anyways, and soon she’s at the doors to his keep.

“I need to see Lord Smajor,” she tells the guards.

“He’s not taking visitors right now.” is the response she gets.

“It’s a vital matter to the safety of both our kingdoms.”

They let her in.

Katherine spends far too long looking around the elegantly decorated downstairs and storage area before she realizes he must be up the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. She’s never been upstairs in Scott’s house before, which makes her a little nervous, but… this is an urgent matter, so she presses on into what turns out to be a very pretty bedroom. Decorated with bookshelves aplenty and gorgeous lanterns, it practically screams Scott.

The man (elf?) himself is harder to spot. At first, Katherine’s worried he isn’t there at all, but eventually she realizes that he’s still in bed despite the fact that it’s a quarter to one, only his pale face sticking out from under the covers.

“Scott?” She asks, cautious. “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her tiredly. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?”

“No, no, stay.” He waves at the sole chair in the room, which is near-enough to the bed. “I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat hesitantly. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Scott laughs, a little bitter. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.”

She obeys, confused, and finds that Scott’s hands are like ice despite the warmth of the room.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott says. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.”

She gasps a little.

“It usually happens to old elves, world-weary,” Scott continues. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

It takes Katherine a moment to process everything, and once she does, she stares at him in horror. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.”

“Oh.” She struggles for words for a moment, settling on “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.”

Try as she might, there’s nothing she can say to that. “Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?”

Something pained and raw flashes through his eyes. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.”

Katherine nods seriously, absorbing the information. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No,” she tells him firmly. “You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.”

Scott stares at her for a long moment, but eventually he takes her outstretched hand. “Alright.” His hand is frozen cold in hers. “We can try.”

Katherine lets him lead her around Rivendell, pointing out the sights. He’s done an impressive job decorating, like her, and an even more impressive job at uniting the elves and building an empire from the ground up. The people of Rivendell are weary and battle-scarred, for the most part, elves who have seen too much, but the children are bright and happy, and the cyan and gold banners wave proudly in the wind.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

Scott nods. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya- well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?”

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer that one.

Katherine leaves feeling unsettled, with more questions than answers. She has new resolve, though, and a new goal: keep Scott from fading. He’s a good friend, though they don’t know each other that well yet, but more than that, he’s a powerful ally. And Katherine can’t afford to lose allies. So while they’re both rulers and busy in their own right, she promises to visit and drag him outside at least once a week.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scott jokes, but his laugh is weak.

Katherine vows to hold herself to it.

The plan works for three entire weeks before Katherine has a week that’s so busy there’s no way she can find the time for a trip to Rivendell. Worse than that, because Scott is so isolated, he has almost no other friends, and many of Katherine’s allies are busy too. She’s a little short of options, to be honest, which is how she finds herself on Jimmy Solidarity’s doorstep that Sunday afternoon.

“Hello?” Jimmy asks as the door swings open. Katherine can see why Lizzie calls him the sweet swamp boy- his confused head tilt is frankly adorable.

“Hi! I know we don’t talk much, but I could use a favor,” she says.

“What can I do for you?”

“I need you to visit Scott.”

Jimmy looks beyond startled. “What- I mean, he doesn’t even like me! I couldn’t possibly.”

“Please?” She wheedles. “I promised him a visitor every week, but I have meetings all week this time.”

He shakes his head, hesitantly at first and then stronger. “No, Katherine. He’d just throw me right out again. I’m his enemy, for goodness sake!”

“If he hates you so much, why do you have his ring?”

Katherine knows she’s won, watching emotions flit across his face too quickly to catch. Grief is what he settles on, and she feels a little bit bad for the ring comment when his voice comes out wobbly.

“I guess I should return that, huh? Alright, I’ll go.”

“Sorry,” she says.

Jimmy brushes it off, saying there’s no need to worry, but he fiddles with the ring on his finger all the more. It’s on his left ring finger, Katherine notes. She wonders if that truly means what it implies.

“I’ll visit him tomorrow,” Jimmy says.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

Jimmy isn’t sure why he agreed to this at all, to be honest. Scott may have given him this ring in another world, another lifetime, but that doesn’t mean Scott doesn’t hate him in this one. What other explanation is there for how all his gifts have been rejected, how cold the elf is? Jimmy would be surprised that Scott’s never tried to take his ring back if it wasn’t for how thoroughly Scott avoids him nowadays. Getting the ring back would require talking to Jimmy, something Scott has made it very clear that he doesn’t want to do. Jimmy doesn’t have another use for it, and try as he might to forget flower fields and warm hands in his, he can’t bear to throw it away. So it’s remained on his hand all this time, a painful reminder of someone who used to love him.

Jimmy tries to avoid looking at it as much as possible, every glimpse bringing back the memory of Scott gently sliding it onto his hand, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Even the faint shimmers in the blue gem remind him of how the starlight seemed to get caught in Scott’s hair when they were out at night. The ring had been one of their most valuable possessions on 3rd Life, the rare silver band and elegant forging more than proof of that. Now, though, the ring has to be one of the least valuable things Jimmy owns; on 3rd Life, they were humble folk in little hobbit holes, their most expensive possessions being their diamond armor and swords, but here, they’re kings and lords. Scott probably has a thousand treasures more valuable in his elven empire, so Jimmy’s not sure why he’s bothering to trek all the way across the world just to return this one.

Then again, it’s not really about the ring, and never has been. It’s about the way starlight used to shine in Scott’s eyes when he smiled, his rare, soft grin that was reserved just for Jimmy, how he gave Jimmy the most valuable thing either of them owned. It’s closure, in a way, giving it back. He won’t have any debt to Scott once this ring is returned, and they can both move on like Scott so clearly wants to.

Shaking off those thoughts, Jimmy slows to a stop in front of Scott’s house. It’s grand, nothing like his old hobbit hole, but still so clearly Scott in the decoration and color schemes. Jimmy would know who built it even if he hadn’t known Scott lived in these mountains.

“I’m here to visit Scott,” he says to the guard stationed outside.

They raise an eyebrow, presumably at the familiar way he refers to Scott. “On formal business or personal?”

“Personal? Sort of? I mean, I don’t have any diplomatic reason for being here.” Truth be told, he has no reason to be here at all, really, but...the ring.

“Then Lord Smajor cannot see you.”

Jimmy grits his teeth, suddenly furious at this whole ordeal. “Then tell Lord Smajor that I need to return his ring.”

“May I see it?”

He sticks his hand out obligingly, and the guard examines the ring, surprise blooming across their face. “I did not realize my Lord had lent you Vilya! My apologies, Lord Codfather, I see the alliance between our kingdoms is stronger than I had assumed. You may pass.”

Vilya? “Thank you, gentle, uh, gentleperson!”

The guard dips their head slightly as he walks by, a gesture of respect that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He shakes off the strangeness of the interaction, though, pushing open the door to Scott’s house.

The inside is beautiful, exactly the kind of decor Scott loves...and empty. There’s no one in the spacious kitchen, the storage room, or anywhere else for that matter. Jimmy’s seconds from giving up and going home when he realizes that there are stairs up to the balcony above. That’s where he goes, finding himself in Scott’s bedroom.

Which is awkward, to say the least. It’s not like they never slept in the same room when they were married, but now that there’s this awkward, painful distance between them, Jimmy feels like he’s intruding. What’s worse is, Scott’s still in bed, laying on his side with his face tilted away from Jimmy’s awkward entrance.

“Hello, Jimmy.”

Jimmy half-jumps, not expecting that. “How’d you know it was me?”

Scott rolls over to face him, and Jimmy notes that his face is too pale for it to be natural or healthy. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He goes on before Jimmy can answer. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?”

Scott’s laugh is bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks, concerned despite himself.

His (ex?)husband doesn’t reply.

“Save you from what?” Jimmy presses, and gets no answer yet again.

Instead, Scott sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You should go.” He stands, and immediately stumbles, Jimmy rushing to steady him on instinct. Scott’s hands are like ice when he grips Jimmy’s arm to regain his balance, taking several deep breaths, and Jimmy’s instantly struck by how wrong that feels. Scott’s hands were always warm, even on the coldest nights in 3rd life. Some elven thing, probably, that Scott didn’t want to talk about or have time to explain to a silly human like Jimmy.

“Scott, what is going on?”

The elf brushes him off again, heading for the stairs, but the regal effect is ruined by how hard he has to grip the railing.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.” Scott turns back to the stairs. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

Jimmy follows, reluctantly, trying to think of something to say that isn’t incoherent sputtering with a bit of ‘why do you hate me now’ added in. “You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!”

“You did ask, to be fair.”

Why oh why is he so stupid around Scott? “I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They start along the path, Scott walking far too quickly for Jimmy’s comfort given how terrible the elf’s balance is currently. He nearly has to jog to keep up, irritatingly, but at least they aren’t snapping at each other for a few precious moments.

Of course, Jimmy has to go and ruin that. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?” He has to hear it from Scott’s own lips that he remembers, that it affected him even half as much as it’s affected Jimmy.

“No.”

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .”

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

Scott freezes, face going icy calm in the way Jimmy knows means he’s actually upset. The elf’s hands grip the fabric of his robes tight, his back going rigid. This is a bad idea, Jimmy knows.

He’s in too deep to back out now, though, the pent-up hurt of the past few months all coming out in a rush. “Tell me I’m wrong, Scott! I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott breathes out slowly, fury gradually building on his face. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died? You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy ?”

Jimmy’s name on Scott’s lips punches all the remaining air out of him, sounding so wrong in that angry, bitter tone. Beneath all the rage, Scott sounds wrecked , and the fight leaves Jimmy’s body abruptly. “No,” he says softly. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

Silence follows those words, only the faint sound of a waterfall in the distance there to break it.

“I buried you on the hill above our houses,” Scott says finally. “I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

Jimmy swallows hard. “Did he?”

“How would I know?” Scott’s tone softens, just a little. “Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now? I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott turns away again, starting down the path a second time. He’s not looking at Jimmy when he says “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” It’s a shock, honestly, given that this is the first time the two of them have really spoken since the beginning of empires. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott still won’t look at him. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says dryly, and Jimmy doesn’t even realize it’s a joke until he looks over at Scott’s wry little grin.

“Scott! That’s not funny!” He scolds, aghast.

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Scott must hear the genuine distress in Jimmy’s voice because he drops the act. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.”

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy demands.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it? But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

Jimmy wants to argue, wants to fight him on this, but there’s nothing he can say. Instead, he puts a hand on Scott’s arm to stop him walking any further. Scott turns to look at him, seemingly startled, and Jimmy throws his arms around the elf.

Scott stiffens before slowly relaxing, arms coming up to wrap around Jimmy in return. It’s not as natural a gesture as it used to be, but it’s warm, gentle in a way Jimmy thought he’d never get again. It reminds him of the soft, starry-eyed boy who put flowers in his hair and laughed at him over a cake. Scott will never be that soft again and Jimmy will never be unscarred, but they’re here. They’re alive, that has to count for something.

Scott pulls back, his expression so achingly tender and heartbroken all at once. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” His voice is raw, a little shaky. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

He’s cut off by Scott shaking his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.”

Jimmy’s in too much shock to speak, the ache in his heart returning tenfold as Scott turns back towards the house.

“Goodbye, Jimmy.” He sweeps away, elegant as ever, but stumbles and nearly falls as he reaches the door. Jimmy’s not there to catch him.

Jimmy stumbles home in a daze. It's somewhat of a miracle that no mob manages to kill him, honestly. To be so close to a resolution, to have the person he wanted most right there in his arms, and then to have all that ripped away- he can’t think of anything that could have hurt more. Even his deaths were less painful than this- at least an arrow through the throat is quicker than feeling like your heart is being ripped out through your ribs, Jimmy thinks, a little bitter. He throws Scott’s stupid ring in a pool in the swamp, watching as it sinks to the bottom of the shallow water with hardly a bubble.

Wait.

The ring.

It’s significant, somehow, according to a Rivendell guard, and more than that, it’s an excuse to see Scott again. One last chance to change his mind about the stupid plan that’s literally killing him.

Jimmy dives in without thinking, scrabbling around until his fingers close around the smooth stone and thin band. When he pulls it out, the gem glitters in the starlight even under the layers of dirt, and it looks like something special. It looks like hope.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #uhh #empires smp #i wont tag 3rd life since its only referenced #my writing

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starbuckie · 4 years

Text

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld

prompt: “we’re divorced?”

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :) this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died.

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England.

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them.

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions.

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.”

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.”

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light.

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel.

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where.

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips.

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice.

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy.

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her.

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity.

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground.

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see.

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.”

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his.

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending.

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky.

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-”

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies.

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’.

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.”

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?”

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?”

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart.

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.”

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.” Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty.

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised.

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.”

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.”

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room.

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!”

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?”

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.”

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed.

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

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eveningsinlondontearsmeapart · 3 years

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Type: One shot about Shawn Mendes Rating: Rated R for Sexual Content Trigger Warning: Death Word Count: 3100+ Part 3/? Enjoy!

His father's guards pulled him away from the king. Shawn pulled away from the guards and picked up her body. Placing her body in the carriage and leaving for the palace. He had the helpers take her body to his bedroom. Locking them into his room so no one could bother them. He wanted her to wake up but honestly, he had no idea what his father did to her. He sat down next to her, taking her hand into his. Kissing her hand softly, brushing the hair from her face.

"I'm so sorry," he said as he fought back tears.

He covered her up with the blankets before heading out of the room. He knew that he had to tell her parents, he didn't know what to say. He made his way to the stables and got his horse. By that time his father just made it back to the palace. Shawn just got onto his horse and left the palace. He made his way to her parent's place, he stood outside for a while trying to figure out what to say. He was just about to get back on his horse when her Isobellas mother came outside.

"Hey Shawn," she said. "Hey," he said. "Where is Isobella?" she questioned. "About that" he rubbed the back of his neck. "I need to tell you something," He said. "Come in please," She said as she held the door open for him. "I don't know how to say this" he took a deep breath in. "Just say it '' she grabbed his hand. "Isobella is dead," he said as his tears slipped from his eyes. "Where is her body?" she questioned. "In the palace, whatever funeral arrangements you want to make, I'll cover it," he said. "Thank you," she said as she started to cry.

Shawn left the house as Isobellas father walked in. He didn't know what to say so he made his way back to the palace. Over the next few days, Isobelals parents made arrangements. Shawn kept his word and covered everything. On the day of the funeral, Shawn was in his room getting ready. He requested a few moments alone with Isabella's body, to say his peace.

"Her body is through those doors," the guard said. "Thank you, please do tell my father that this isn't over '' Shawn said as he entered the room.

He shut the doors behind him and made his way to the coffin. She was laying there so peacefully, he took her hand into his. Kissing her forehead softly, still wishing she would wake up.

"I'm sorry that this happened, I never wanted this," he said as his tears slipped from his eyes. "I love you" he whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her softly before leaving the room. Allowing her parents a few moments with their daughter before the service started. They closed the coffin and started the service, it was a quick one. They took the coffin to the site where she would forever rest. They already had the hole dug, they placed the coffin into the hole. Starting to put the dirt on the coffin to cover it up.

Isobella started to wake up inside the coffin, confused about why it was dark. As she tried to move she slowly started to realize what was going on. She started to panic and scream, just hoping someone was close enough to hear her.

"HELP!" She screamed. "Wait did you guys hear that?" Shawn asked. "What?" the guards said. "Someone was screaming," Shawn said. "SOMEONE HELP ME" Isobella screamed as she tried to get out of the coffin. "It's Isobella," Shawn said as jumped down into the hole.

He cracked open the coffin and sure enough, she was alive. He helped her out of the coffin and got them both out of the hole. She just held onto him as he rested on the ground.

"Shhh I got you" he whispered in her ear as he rocked her in his arms. "W-What happened?" she questioned. "We will talk later, let's get out of here," he said as he stood up. "Ok," she said as she held his hand.

They caught up to her parents, there were a lot of tears but also joy. Her mother didn't want to let her go neither did her dad. She grabbed Shawns hand and they walked off.

"What kind of sorcery was that?" the King asked his guard. "I have no clue, is she a witch?" the guard question. "We need to find out," the king said.

Shawn and Isobella made their way to the palace. He had his cook make her something to eat, pulling out her chair for her to sit. She sat down and he sat next to her, just grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't believe that she was truly right in front of him. He took her hand in his, kissing it softly.

"So what happened?" she questioned. "You left the woods and then by the time I got to the cabin, you were lying there lifeless," he said. "I only remember leaving you in the woods," she said. "So nothing about my father?" he questioned. "I can't remember '' She looked at him. "That's fine, as long as you are fine" he spoke softly. "I'm ok, kind of shaken up but I'm ok," she said. "I'll take care of you," he said as the food was brought to the table.

They ate and once she finished he got up and held his hand out for her. She smiled softly and took his hand, getting up from the table. Leading her up to his room, closing the door behind them. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. He smiled against her lips before kissing her back, resting his hand on her neck. She slowly pulled away as she looked at him.

"Tonight I just want to lay with you," she said. "Of course," he nodded. "Thank you" she smiled softly.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the bed. Laying down with her, she laid her head down on his chest. He covered them up with the blanket before holding her close to him. They both started to drift off to sleep, that was until there was a knock on the door. He gently moved her over so she would stay asleep as he got up. Making his way to the door, opening it slightly, seeing his father standing there.

"What do you want?" Shawn asked. "We need to talk," the king said. "I don't have anything to say to you," Shawn said. "Just come to the courtyard," the king said.

Shawn slipped his shoes on and went out to the courtyard with his father. He could tell his father was concerned but at this point, Shawn didn't want anything to do with his father.

"What is this about?" Shawn asked. "It's about Isobella," the king said. "You are not touching her! Nor or your guards" Shawn said as he crossed his arms. "Or there will be war" Shawn looked at his father. "No one is touching her, we are just concerned," the king said. "About?" Shawn asked. "Don't you think it's weird that she woke up?" the king questioned. "No," Shawn said but then started to think. "It is weird but I'm glad she's back," Shawn said. "We think she's a witch," the king said. "She is not a witch! Stop making shit up!" Shawn said. "Weirdly, she woke up after being dead for three days," the king said. "Maybe she was in just a deep sleep," Shawn said. "Just think about it," the king said before walking off.

Shawn rolled his eyes and made his way back to his room. Slipping back into bed without waking her up. He fell asleep quickly but couldn't seem to stay asleep. In the middle of the night, he got up and went into the kitchen. Fixing himself a hot cup of tea and sitting at the table. Thinking about what his father said, could it be true. He took a sip of his tea as he looked out the window. Even if she was, why would it matter? He knew he was in love with her and didn't want to lose her. He sighed as he sat back in the seat just trying to wrap his mind around it. She shuffled in the bed and noticed that he was gone. She got up and grabbed his robe. Pulling it over her shoulders as she makes her way down towards the kitchen.

"Shawn?" she spoke softly. "I'm in the kitchen," he responded.

She made her way to the kitchen and saw him sitting there. She made her way to him and sat on his lap, placing her hand on his cheek. He looked up at her and brushed the hair from her face. She leaned down and kissed him softly but he hesitated.

"What's wrong?" She looked at him as she pulled away. "Nothing, just stuff on my mind" he nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?" she questioned. "Not really," he said as he rubbed her back. "I'm here if you do," she said as she looked at him. "I know," he nodded. "What are you drinking?" she nodded towards his drink. "Just tea," he said. "Oh," she said as she picked up the cup, taking a small sip. "Strong tea," she said. "How I like it," he said. "Are you angry with me?" she questioned. "No," he responded quickly. "Ok, I'm going back to bed, join me?" she asked as she stood up. "I'll be up shortly," he said. "Ok" She kissed his cheek softly before going back to the bedroom.

She sat on the bed trying to figure out what was going on. She laid back staring into the dark still wondering. She couldn't seem to fall back to sleep and he never came back to the bed. In the morning she got out of bed and got ready for the day, going to the kitchen to get breakfast. The cup of tea was sitting on the table but he was nowhere to be found. He was in the courtyard with his father.

"Hello madam," the maid said. "Good morning," Isobella said. "What do you fancy this morning?" the maid asked. "Oh, just some eggs are fine," Isobella said. "For someone in your condition you need more," the maid said. "Just eggs are fine," Isobella said. "My condition?" she questioned. "Aren't you with child?" the maid asked. "No I am not," Isobella said. "Sorry, my mistake," the maid said before going into the kitchen. "Is that why Shawn was angry?" she asked herself.

The maid brought the food to the table and Isobella started to eat. Once Shawn was finished talking to his father he entered the palace. Making his way to the kitchen and noticing that Isobella was eating. He smiled softly walking over to her, kissing the top of her head. He sat down and the maid brought his food to him. They sat in silence and ate, Isobella was finished first so she got up from the table.

"Hey, where are you off to?" Shawn asked as he grabbed her arm. "I'm going back home" she pulled away from his touch. "Wait what? why?" he asked as he stood up. "It's clear that you are angry with me so I should go," she said. "I'm not angry," he said. "Do you think I'm with child?" she looked at him. "Wait, are you?" he asked. "No! would everyone stop assuming that!" she crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, Who said you were?" he asked. "Your staff," she said. "I'm sorry for their mistake, but I'm not angry with you," he said. "Sure could fool me," she said as she walked away.

He caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She leaned back slightly and placed her hands on his arms. He kissed her cheek and just held her close to him.

"Please don't go," he whispered. "I don't want to," She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. "It's just things with my father," he said. "Let me in," she said as she turned to face him. "Are you a witch?" he questioned. "What type of question is that?" she looked at him. "A question," he said. "A question with no answer," she said as she pulled away from him. "Wait what does that mean?" he asked as he grabbed her hand. "No, I am not a witch," she said. "Oh ok," he sighed "good" he kissed her softly.

She smiled against his lips and gently tugged at his bottom lip. He pushed her against the wall, placing his hands against her cheeks. She lifted her leg and wrapped it around him, just keeping him close to her. She started undoing his shirt as she kept the kiss between them. He reached under her skirt and pulled down her panties. He pushed her leg off of him and went down to take her panties off. She placed her hands on his shoulders and helped him take off her panties. He stood back up and kissed her softly before moving to her neck. Gently sucking against her neck as he ran his leg up to her leg. She moaned and picked her leg up, resting it on his hip. He placed his hand between her legs, pressing his thumb against her clit. She squirmed slightly before he placed his hand on her hip to keep her from moving.

"Shhh," he whispered in her ear. "Baby" She moaned as he moved his finger faster.

He covered her mouth as she edged closer to cumming. He made her climax and held her against the wall. He quickly unbuttoned his pants and picked her up. Allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He laid her down on the kitchen table and took himself out of his pants. Quickly but gently pushing himself into her, leaning down kissing her softly. She kept her legs around him as she started to move her hips towards his. He thrust into her, moving his hands down her side. As she arched her back he started to suck against his neck again. She edged closer to another climax with each thrust. He was close as well, he pulled her up. She held onto him as they both climaxed together. She rested against him as they both tried to catch their breath. He pulled out and pulled his pants up as she fixed her skirt. He helped her down off the table and grabbed her panties off the floor.

"Can I have those back?" She questioned. "No, I like you like this" he smirked as he placed his hand between her legs. "Not fair," she said as she bit her lip. "Just means I can have you whenever I want" he kissed her cheek. "Uh-huh," she rolled her eyes. "So truly are you a witch?" he chuckled slightly. "Can't believe I believed my father" he said. "Wait what?" she looked at him. "My father is the one who questioned if you were a witch," he said. "Oh" She nodded slowly. "Is that a problem?" he asked. "If people believe I'm a witch, that could end badly," she said. "You would be hung," he said. "Yea" she swallowed hard. "Would that change things between us?" she questioned. "No it wouldn't, I still love you" he grabbed her hands. "I love you," she said. "Why am I not getting a straight answer from you?" he asked. "I'm not a witch, but I know one," she said. "Oh, how did you come back from the dead?" he asked. "I can't tell you," she said. "I trust you" he kissed her softly. "No one can know," she said. "Alright," he nodded. "So we were going to take the boat out later," he said. "Who are we?" she questioned. "The family, come with me," he said. "Only for you" she smiled slightly.

He went to his bedroom to collect his things for the boat trip. She rushed out into the courtyard trying to figure out what to do. They were onto her but they couldn't know the truth. She took a deep breath in as she saw Shawn coming out to her. He grabbed her hand and led her outside of the palace. They went down to the dock and got onto the ship, his father and stepmother were already there. She stayed as far away as she could from her father. They sat on the edge of the boat as they went out to see. Shawn pulled her closer to him as she rested her head against his shoulder. As the sun started to set, that's when things started to get weird. Shawn's father kept his eye on Isobella the whole night, while they were eating. With the King's nod, one of his guards started a fight with Shawn. They were arguing and then it got physical. Shawn pulled away and grabbed Isabella's hand and led her to their room. The guard grabbed Shawn pulling him onto the deck. There was more arguing and once again things got physical. Isobella came out trying to get them to stop but there was no stopping them.

"Stop your guard!" Isobella said as she looked at the king. "Not my problem," the king said. "That's your son!" Isobella said.

Before the king could say another word Shawn went overboard. Isobella rushed over to the rail to see if she could see Shawn. She was screaming for him but she couldn't see him.

"Use your powers," the king said. "You are CRAZY" Isobella yelled out. "You are a witch, so use your powers," he said once more. "Go to hell," she said as she jumped off the boat.

She finally found his body, she grabbed him making sure his head was above the water. She pulled him back to the shore, laying him in the sand.

"Come on breath," she said. "SHAWN" she screamed. "HELP" she screamed. "Please" she started crying as she held him close to her.

The wind started to pick up and it became cold. She was shivering but she wasn't going to leave him. She was so tired and cold that she couldn't move him. She covered his body with hers and just hoped that he would wake up. She ended up passing out from the cold.

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #Shawn Mendes Preferences #Shawn Mendes Preference #Shawn Mendes Writing #Shawn Mendes Writings #Shawn Mendes Blurb #Shawn Mendes Blurbs #Shawn Mendes Smut #Shawn Mendes Fanfic

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

Text

ivy- morgan rielly

a/n: i wrote a thing, don’t hate me. very much inspired by ivy from the absolutely incredible new tswift evermore album (you should listen to the whole thing if you havent already and def this song)

warnings: infidelity (it’s a central theme), angst (lots)

-----

The arm draped over her waist tightens just as Ophelia begins to move away. She bites her lip and closes her eyes and she feels Morgan bury his face in her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t go.” He whispers.

“I have to.” She wouldn’t. She’d stay here all night if she could. She’d stay until morning, she’d stay forever...but she can’t. “You know that.” It’s just as quiet, as if they’re both afraid of breaking the spell over them, but by now, they both know that prolonging the inevitable leads only to more pain, more difficulty leaving.

Morgan presses another kiss to the top of her head before rolling away; she feels the cold of his absence immediately, a loss that’s going to stay with her until she manages to find an escape to be with him again.

Her clothes are scattered everywhere tonight, it seems, which merely means she feels Morgan’s eyes following her around his room as she gathers them. “Stop that.”

There’s the smallest of smiles of his face when she looks up at him, after pulling her sweater back on. “Stop looking at you? Never.” And she’s really supposed to be leaving, but how’s Ophelia not supposed to kiss him after that?

Morgan’s thumb strokes over her cheek after they break apart, a gentle caress that expresses so much of all the things she knows he can’t-or won’t-say. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will.” Ophelia squeezes his hand gently, understanding the true message behind his words, the I love you, that’s just too much to say outright. And then, because it’s too much for her to actually say goodbye, she squeezes his hand once more, and then slips out of his room.

It’s dark still when she opens the door to her apartment a few floors down and the silence is deafening. By all accounts, it should be warmer and homier than the bachelor pad she just left. She’d put a lot of work and effort into making it a home, a place for a relationship to grow, to start a family.

Right now, it just felt cold and unwelcoming, and Ophelia drops her keys on the table by the door in their usual spot, making a beeline for the master bathroom, not turning any lights on in the apartment until she makes it there. The sound of the shower finally drowns out the silence that’s ringing around her, stops her thoughts from running wild, and only when she steps inside does she let the tears fall.

-----

Ophelia blinks once, and then again, adjusting her eyes to the bright sun shining in through the windows. The other side of the bed is empty, but warm still, like it’s only been recently vacated, and she musters up the energy to climb out of bed and find her slippers before she wanders out into the kitchen.

“‘Morning.” Jon’s scrolling through his phone at the table, likely checking emails, or possibly moved onto his morning social media read thru, his coffee still steaming in front of him. “There’s more in the pot.”

“Thanks.” She returns the small smile he’d sent her and pours a mug for herself, settling in at the table next to him and taking a moment to get used to the usual silence. “When’d you get in last night?”

Jon hums for a second, like he’s thinking about it. “3, I think?”

“Jesus.” She shakes her head; she doesn’t need to look at the clock to know that it’s too early for him to be up and dressed to go back to the office already then. “You need to sleep more.”

Jon stands up with his mug and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

The thing is, she’s not sure he’s kidding. It’s an attitude that he shares with the rest of his firm, a top financial group filled with people just like Jon, always pushing themselves to do the absolute most. It’s not-she’d never begrudge him his success, but really, how well can he be taking care of himself when all he does is go to work, go to the gym, and travel for days at a time?

“That’ll be sooner than you think if you keep going on four hours of sleep.” Ophelia chides gently, standing to send him off.

Jon laughs. “I’ll be home early tonight; how’s that? We’ll go out somewhere for dinner and then come back to bed,” He waggles his eyebrows. “And then go to bed.”

“Hmm, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ophelia says, and accepts the kiss he presses to her cheek on his way out the door.

(He doesn’t make it to dinner, but Ophelia's not shocked; she hadn’t bothered to change out of her gym clothes and orders takeout for herself instead.)

-----

Probably a long shot, but are you free at 3 to go see a house? Ophelia sends Jon the second their realtor confirms the showing, unsurprised when he sends back a thumbs down emoji. She sighs, and confirms with the realtor that she’ll be attending alone-again-and then scrolls around the neighborhood, looking at other houses for sale. If she’s going all the way out to Etobicoke, she may as well check out a few others while she’s there.

Showings confirmed, she dresses for the spin class she’s hitting first and makes her way downstairs, catching Morgan in the parking garage. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles. He’s got a couple teammates with him, the only thing stopping her from burying her face in his neck and slipping her hands into his hoodie pocket. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” She answers truthfully. It’s been a couple days since they’ve talked, longer since she’s seen him, even just in passing like this; he’s been out of town a lot this month for games. “You happy to be home for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Morgan nods, meeting her eyes, and she hadn’t intended the question to be anything more than what it is, but she catches the double meaning in his answer right away. “I am.”

“Yeah.” She catches herself mindlessly agreeing with him, forgetting about the teammates standing with him watching their every move and smiling gently at Morgan, instead. “It’ll be nice.”

Someone coughs, lightly, but it’s enough to break the moment. She suspects, from the look on Morgan’s face, that whichever one of his friend’s had interrupted had done so on purpose, is putting some kind of story together, and she’s taking that as her cue to go. “I’ll talk to you soon, I’m sure. Catch you in the halls.” She tries to joke, but it falls flat, so she makes her goodbyes instead, and even though they’re not alone, it’s impossible not to reach out and brush her fingers against his arm for just the quickest of touches as she passes.

-----

“What do you think?” Ophelia can feel Pam studying her, but she bites her lip before she answers, knowing that she’s being an absolute pest.

“I just-I don’t really love it.” She says finally, and to her absolute credit, her realtor doesn’t even blink, even though this is the fifth house this afternoon she’s said that exact same thing about.

“What didn’t you love?”

What didn’t she love? Jesus, fucking everything. The bedrooms were too small, the kitchen was laid out terribly, the whole floor plan was a mess. Even petty little things, like the shape of the breakfast nook bothered her about this house. She explains her issues with the house, promising to make a list of what she’s absolutely looking for, and to send over any places she wants to take a look at, before slipping into her car and taking a deep breath.

There’s a text waiting for her from Jon. Going to be late at the office tonight, working on a pitch. Don’t wait up.

Another deep breath. She shoots off a response, a quick ok, and then swipes to another thread. Are you home?

Morgan’s response comes almost immediately. Yeah, just about to order dinner. You want in?

She does, absolutely. Be there in an hour.

Morgan has dinner waiting in takeout containers and plates ready, but Ophelia’s perfectly happy to ignore both of those in favor of pressing herself as close to him as she can and pushing up for a kiss. “Hi.” She says, a little breathlessly.

“I’m certainly not complaining, but what’d I do to deserve that?” He pulls her back in, entangling her fingers with his one hand and using the other to pull her closer. She loves when he holds her like this, keeps her so close that it feels like nothing can come between them, that nothing matters besides the two of them.

She traces a pattern along his hand and feels him pull her in even more tightly. “Just for being you.” It’s a little sappy, too sappy maybe, but she cherishes every moment she’s gotten to spend knowing him and growing with him.

The kiss Morgan pulls her in for at that is soft and promising, but he pulls back, looking as if it almost pains him. “Dinner first?” And because she can hear his stomach rumbling, she nods in agreement, with a smile and the smallest of laughs.

“Dinner first.”

-----

It’s snowing.

It’s snowing and the pond is frozen, but it’s empty, surrounded by evergreens and mountains, already coated in white. The air is crisp, that winter crispness that can only truly be felt in the middle of nowhere, and Ophelia breathes deeply, taking in the distinct scent of winter that she never really gets in Toronto, before it’s overpowered by a familiar one.

When Morgan skates up behind her, he doesn’t stop; instead, he only slows down enough to catch her arm and pull her along with him.

“Morgan!” Ophelia scolds, but she’s laughing when she does, so he can’t possibly take her seriously.

“Ophelia!” He mimics, picking up speed, ignoring her sudden shriek and skating around in front of her to take both of her hands.

“Showoff.” She nods at him, still leading the two of them around the pond, only moving backwards now, so as to still be looking at her.

“Nah, just want to look at that pretty face more.”

When she stops, it doesn’t even catch him off guard; Morgan just glides the half step closer to her, still grinning as she teases him. “You get to look at my face all the time now.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m ever tired of it.” She loves him so much. How open and honest he is, that he always says what he’s thinking, from the sweetest things like that to anything he’s unclear about. His gentle touches, the warm caresses. His stupid dad jokes. She’d spend forever laughing at them just to see the smile on his face when she does.

“Not yet, at least.” She teases. “‘Ever’ is a lot of time.”

“Still not enough.” Morgan says, and then slips one of his hands into his pocket, coming back out with a velvet jewelry box. “Maybe forever?”

“Hey.” It doesn’t sound right, too distant and too unenthusiastic; it doesn’t match the pure joy in Morgan’s eyes looking at her.

“Yes.” She says, smiling and nodding at him.

“Phel,” there’s a gentle nudge against her neck and she blinks awake. There’s Morgan...but…she blinks the fuzziness of the dream away. He looks unhappy, reluctant, and she gets it, suddenly, when he continues. “It’s late.”

“Oh.” She says quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck, another one on the soft skin where it meets her shoulder. “Mo-“ Morgan lifts his head to look at her, but there’s nothing she could say right now that would bring happiness to his face, nothing that would come even close to the unbridled excitement in her dream, so she keeps the memory close to her heart and gives him a soft kiss instead, before she has to go.

-----

“Glass of red, as requested.” Ophelia smiles in thanks as Jon passes her a glass, but her attention is directed at the monstrosity of a tie that his coworker and best friend has shown up to a corporate event wearing.

“Kevin.” She says, and from the grin on his face, her disbelief is clear. “What is that?”

“It’s fashion, Ophelia.” Kevin says, putting an act of superiority on, but then going right back to his usual, kind of goofy, self. “Naw, I found it when we were in Dallas last week. It’s lit, isn’t it?”

“Lit.” She repeats dryly, taking a sip of her wine to hide a smile as he and Jon laugh.

The laughs don’t last long, as the three of them are approached by Jon’s boss, and the small talk begins. There’s a client there they want to land tonight, or at least make dinner plans with for a later date, and that’s top priority, but don’t forget to make time for this person too because their contract is up in March, and of course, you can’t ignore the Leafs, especially not so-and-so from the such-and-such’s office because they’re looking to renew the sponsorship agreement after the season, and...

She blanks on all the names. All she needs to do is smile pretty anyway.

She excuses herself after Keith Williams (the client, who agrees to dinner later in the week, another night she’ll be alone) to refill her wine glass, and is waiting by the bar when she feels someone slide in next to her just a step too close. Instead of feeling tense though, it relaxes her immediately, and she leans against Morgan. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Ophelia’d noticed him the minute he’d walked the door, noticed the way his suit was perfectly cut, that the navy brought out his eyes, had had a hard time looking away. “You look okay, I guess.”

Morgan laughs. “Okay, I guess?” He repeats, nudging her side.

“Very handsome.” She accepts her glass of wine from the bartender and smiles in thanks before he leaves them. “It’s a good suit on you.”

She’s sure he’s going to make a comment about how it’s an even better suit off him, but they’re interrupted. “Mo!” Someone says behind them, and Ophelia hadn’t even realized how close they were standing, that she’s curling into him and he’s leaning back, until they have to separate to turn around.

“Mitchy.” Morgan greets, sounding as calm as usual, while Ophelia feels like her heart’s going to beat out of her chest. “Finally made it, huh?”

“Matts couldn’t decide on what shoes he wanted to wear.” Mitch grumbles as the blonde next to him snickers into her palm.

“Worth the wait.” Ophelia looks over at the voice and realizes it’s one of the teammates Morgan had over the other week. She quickly realizes from the look on his face that he’s putting together the same pieces.

“Was it though?’ Mitch is asking him. “That’s the last time we agree to carpool.”

He’s ignored though. “We’ve met before, yeah?”

Ophelia nods. “Uh yeah, I live in the same building as Morgan.” She transfers her wine glass to her left hand to offer her right hand out to shake, catches the blonde’s eyes immediately go to her ring, and ignores the feeling in her stomach as she introduces herself to them.

They’re all friendly enough-Auston, Mitch, Mitch’s girlfriend-but she can’t help but feel like they’re just trying to feel her out for something; she makes polite chit-chat for a few minutes and then excuses herself away from them to go back to Jon.

“Hey.” She says quietly, slipping back into his side.

“All good?” He asks quietly. “You were gone for a while.”

She nods. “ Just ran into someone I know.” He hums noncommittally and she feels a moment of fear for Morgan, but then they’re moving toward that guy from the Leafs office he’s supposed to be talking with and he’s back to all business.

-----

“Can we talk about this later?” Jon zips his suitcase and then looks over at her. “I’ve got to go.”

“When do you want to talk about it?” Ophelia cries frustratedly. “You’re always fucking going.”

Jon glares at her.” Jesus Christ, Ophelia.” He starts rolling his suitcase down the hall and she follows, unable to resist.

“Should I even bother looking at houses still? Or should we just stay stagnant?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Ophelia. I don’t care right now.” The door slams behind him, but for once, she can’t bring herself to be mad about it, too furious about the fight they just had, shouting in circles about things they’ve already fought about.

Stewing in her anger isn’t going to do her any good, so she changes and heads to the gym, each pounding step on the treadmill relieving the thrumming under her skin. She’s feeling better, by the time she slows it down to her cool down- not quite calm, by any means, but enough that she feels she can run the errands she needs to for the day without snapping at anyone who doesn’t deserve her ire.

She’s in the grocery store when her phone starts ringing. “Hey.” She smiles when she sees it’s Morgan.

“Hey.” She can practically hear him smiling, even through the phone, her airpods still in her ears. “I’m home.”

She’s in the snack aisle at the food store, absolutely beaming at the simplest words, just because he’s been gone for a week. “You are?”

“For a few days now.” He confirms.

“You want to come for dinner tonight?” She studies the cart in front of her. “I’ll cook.”

“You’re cooking? Tell me when to be there.” Morgan already sounds excited. It’s not often she gets a chance to cook for him, but every time she does, he raves about it.

She laughs. “I’m at the store now; I’ll text you when I get home.”

He’s actually waiting for her in the parking garage when she pulls in and she laughs at him fondly as she parks her car. “Welcome back.”

“Hmm, good to be back.” The kiss he gives her in greeting is quick, too quick, but he makes up for it when he pushes her back against the counter as soon as they’re in her kitchen and the groceries are on the counter.

“Do you want risotto tonight or not?” Ophelia laughs against his lips, laughs again as she watches how torn Morgan looks. “We have time.”

He squeezes her hand. “Never enough.” And she kisses him again, because it’s true. These stolen moments, this borrowed time, none of it felt like enough. It wouldn’t ever be enough to show him all the love she has for him, to show him everything he does for her, all the pain he takes away and the joy he brings to her life.

“Could you go pick out a bottle of wine?” She says quietly, nodding toward the wine fridge, instead of saying the things they both know are true, but will only lead to her saying something stupid, like asking him to run away with her.

-----

The house comes in Pam’s daily email and Ophelia loves it from the first picture. She requests a showing for as early as possible and goes through her morning routine, trying not to get overly excited each time her phone buzzes with a new notification, until finally, Pam responds that she’ll meet her there at noon.

It’s only two hours, but it’s two hours that she can’t seem to fill, no matter what she does. Time feels like it’s stopped, until finally she gets in her car and drives over.

The stone exterior is even more beautiful in person than in the pictures. The kitchen is straight out of her dreams. The bedrooms are spacious, the family room is open, the basement is huge. She walks the entire house once, goes through again and again, smile growing wider each time.

Ophelia can picture it perfectly. The laughter filling all these nooks and crannies. A small blue-eyed boy always bouncing around, begging for anyone to play hockey with him. A girl, the shine of her dark hair catching all the natural light, eagerly trying to keep up with him. Morgan throwing his bag down the second he walks in the door and scooping them both into his arms to say hello, before coming to her and a baby, greeting them both just as tenderly.

It’s abrupt, the crash back to reality. This house, this beautiful, gorgeous, house can’t be hers. That life isn’t hers. It can’t be hers. It won’t be theirs.

Ophelia doesn’t feel her legs crumble out from under her, but she finds herself on the floor, hand brushing over the carpet. She doesn’t feel the tears start either, but it’s not long before the sobs are wracking her entire body and she’s unable to stop.

#morgan rielly fanfic #morgan rielly imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #toronto maple leafs imagine #my hockey fics

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rose-lord-of-simps · 4 years

Text

5 Times Mammon Interupted Levy. 1 Time She Didn’t.

Levy x reader! GN reader! Fem Levi! Hi! Uh- NSFW. Also cursing is included! I wanted to write something funny though and this popped in my brain! Enjoy!

Note: normally my stuff doesn’t have many NSFW themes and typically I prefer to keep it more romantic and fluffy but not this time. However this is not smut and is a comedy piece. Enjoy!

Dialogue is colored this time around! Levy Mammon Asmo italics is the person on the phone.

1. When Levy told Mammon to shut up.

“Yes!”

“So close!”

“Almost- almost there!”

“Keep going!”

“Come on, come on!”

Mammon heard Levy through the walls. That’s how loud she was. Mammon didn’t like to be a cock block or anything, especially not to Levy who- wait when was the last time she got laid? Wait... did she ever-? No they’ve been alive for centuries she’s had to! Wait never mind back to the problem at hand.

Mammon normally didn’t care if Levy was loud or not. She usually had her headphones to block out the noise. However, a certain sister was using them without permission and broke them. Stupid Satan, Mammon definetly didn’t steal your headphones.

Without her headphones she was left unprotected to Levy’s loud gaming nights until she got a knew pair. As much as Mammon loves her sister, the noise is getting annoying.

So here Mammon was, bathing into Levy’s room to embarrass her for being so loud then-

“FUCK YEAH EAT SHIT LOSERS EAT MY DUST YOU TWELVE YEAR OLDS!”

“LEVY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”

“SHUT UP IM PLAYING MINECRAFT! Mammon? GET OUT OF MY ROOM! GO! LEAVE!”

“OKAY OKAY BYE!”

Of course the only logical thing when you find your sister in the middle of a game is to leave as she throws various empty soda cans at you.

2. When Levy was on a phone call.

Mammon didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Again. Honest!

But when she hears her shut in sister say the words “I love you” and then another VOICE respond “I love you too” she’s gotta know what’s going on.

“I miss you so much darling, I can’t until I can see you again.”

“I miss you too my star, so much.”

Levy missed someone? Since when!?

“Remember last summer when all we did was go on picnics and have tea? You always found the perfect spot for us to sit.”

“Under the willow trees. Anything for you my star.”

When did Levy leave her room- Wait last summer!? Does Lucy know?

“And next time we see eachother I promise there will be absolutely no interruptions what so ev-“

Mammon just couldn’t take not knowing any longer. She had to know who-

Oh.

Oh she should have expected this.

“MAMMON GET OUT IM ON A PHONE CALL WITH RURI~CHAN!”

It was a game. It was a texting game. Of course it was.

3. When there was almost a first K word.

It was an average day.

Well I mean, they sisters’ new average.

It’s been a few months since the start of the exchange program and you finally managed to worm your way into Levy’s circle of trust.

You two were just in her bedroom binging a new sports anime called “that time sports all changed my life and I had a giant crush on half my team but the one who I ended up loving was my rival the whole time.” Or something.

It was nice. The anime had you two clinging to eachother in excitement.

The emotions each character displayed had the both of you tearing up at points.

Levy was so distracted, it wasn’t u til after the season finale she realized just how close you two were.

Oh boy.

Here we go.

Levy’s brain has been fried, once again, by how cute you are.

She started to move but when you held your grip on her she couldn’t bare to move away from you.

She looked you in your eyes that she always thought were just the perfect color. Not too light or too dark but always the eyes she adores.

She didn’t notice herself lean in. She didn’t notice pulling you closer.

Her hands were cold against your skin, they always were, they always left a chill on you.

One that made you lean into her more and somehow managed to light your soul aflame with want for her.

Levy’s face was closer to you than she’d ever had the courage to keep it before.

And then a pounding on the door.

“MC are you in there! I need your help with something!”

And there the mood went.

Levy realized how close she was to you and backed away immediately, leaving you truly cold.

4. When Levy was having a conversation with Asmo.

“Asmo! This time I have a power point presentation about why you should-... what is going on here?”

Mammon had walked in on a blushing Levy and an elated Asmo.

“Am I... inturupting something?”

“Yes!”

“Not at all!”

“Asmoooo! No we can’t tell her we absolutely can not.”

“But Levy Mammon knows how to do this too and honestly with the me there is no way you could go wrong but a little extra help isn’t a bad thing. Mammon is good at this too!”

“Good at what?”

“Nothing.”

“Sex.”

“ASMO!”

“Oh no Asmo’s right I can help what’s up?”

“No it’s nothing go away you stupid older sister!”

“Levy and MC are getting kinda serious so Levy wanted to talk about how to be more confident initiating intimacy so she came to her dear expert little sister!”

“Awww Levy I’m hurt you didn’t come to me for advice first!”

“SHUT UP I HATE YOU BOTH!

5. When Levy was kinda in the middle of something here.

Levy doesn’t know how she managed this.

She doesn’t even think it’s real.

Here was this gorgeous human kissing her of all demons when there are plenty of others who are a much better choice. Here you were, crawling on top of her and asking her if she wants to go further.

Here you were, asking her if she wanted more.

Clothes were forgotten on the floor.

Hands were desperately feeling for the other’s touch.

This was something new.

And no amount of anxiety or over thinking could of made her pull away.

She adores you with everything she is.

Her confidence was just starting to come to her when-

“Hey Levy did you ever- WOAH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY HUMAN”

Thankfully pants were still on.

However Mammon’s head was about to be off.

+1. When Mammon finally learned.

Since then nothing but snuggles and cuddles has happened between you and Levy.

And to be honest?

You were fed up.

Every time you two would even so much as kiss something would interrupt you.

Levy was going insane.

Everytime she got comfortable and let her guard down, something spooked her.

And you could tell.

But not today.

No to-fucking-day Mammon!

Levy had been out for hours to get a new game she had been wanting forever that was only available in one store.

You stayed home this time, feigning sick. You were fine, obviously, and just told her you are too much.

You got her room ready.

Anime to binge - check.

Fluffy blankets - check.

Nerdy playlist because you’re both in love with anime dorks - check.

No interruptions - working on it.

This is the part where you bursted into Mammon’s room. Blackmail in hand.

Here we go.

“Mammon! I am going to have a nice evening with my girlfriend, Levy, ALONE. And if you so much as think about trying to get to either of us, I will personally hand this folder of evidence to Lucy.”

“Woah human, what evidence and for what crime? You got no proof I did anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me, what was the one prank Lucy never caught you on?”

“The cups in her office. Why?”

“So you admit you were the one who put all those cups in her office and made her lose hours of work time, ultimately making her sleep less and be extra cranky the next day?”

“Yes and it was hilarious! I wish I could’ve seen her face!”

You pull the recording pen out of your pocket. Yes. Yes you did just pull a Judy Hopps.

Mammon’s face looked pail as a ghost.

“Now you’re going to stay out of my room and out of Levy’s room and I will see you tomorrow at breakfast, or this pen will be hand delivered to Lucy.”

“O-Oi you don’t have to go that far! You could of just told me ta leave you alone!”

“Good.” And with that you left.

————

Mammon was bored. Very bored. There had been multiple times she almost got up to go look for you but then she remembered the pen.

And she sat her ass back down.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me genderbend #obey me x mc #obey me x oc #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #leviathan x you #leviathan x mc #leviathan avatar of envy #obey me leviathan

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xmint-conditionx · 4 years

Text

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch3 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 5.3k ❦ summary: after being caught, you and the emperor decide to let some distance come between you. after a week of being along with your thoughts, you finally meet each other again. this time, he has something special in store for you, but by the end of the night, you both find yourself doing something daring. ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, lots of angst in this one, pining, lots of backstory here, outdoor sex, penetrative sex, knife (sword?) play, very brief oral sex (f receiving). ❦ a/n: after literal MONTHS, i have finally added another chapter. this is actually me releasing it for a second time tonight because clearly the first time, tumblr hated it so much that it wouldn’t let it show up in searches. i really hope you all enjoy, and i plan to be uploading a new chapter every three weeks, my schedule permitting. anyway, enjoy the filth! luv yas! and let me know if you’d like to join the taglist; i’d be glad to add you ^_^

- minty <3

taglist: @jiminisnotavirgin @aretha170 @btstrash2013 @bbykoos @aquaalanah

“Your Majesty?” you hear a voice call from the end of the corridor.

It’s Jin.

You both freeze for a beat, and then simultaneously take a step back from each other. You avert your eyes; it feels like you might be spared a harsh reprimanding if you just look in the other direction, for some reason. You’re sure your guilt and embarrassment at being caught is displayed plainly on your face, though, despite your best efforts. You allow your eyes to rake up from the floor, over to Concubine Mother Kim, as he stands firmly in the panel of moonlight shining on the dark wooden floorboards. His hands are placed firmly on his hips and his face is stern; this isn’t a good sign. You gaze up at your emperor, whose embrace just moments ago made you feel so protected and hidden away from the problems of the real world. Who made you feel safe.

And his face is as shocked as yours.

“Concubine Mother,” the emperor says cooly, recovering more quickly than you, though you can see a tinge of pink flush his cheeks. He’s also blinking far too much. Jin regards him for a moment and then turns to speak to you.

“Please tell me that I did not make an exception for you to stay late, only for you to fool around with the king in secret.”

“Concubine Mother,” Emperor Min says, “I was just walking her back to the wing so--”

“Emperor Min, forgive me,” Jin says, not truly asking for forgiveness by the tone he’s carrying, “but you cannot truly believe I don’t see what I see.”

Emperor Min looks down and clenches his jaw.

“Off to bed,” Jin says firmly to you. The sting of forming tears tells you to avoid their gaze as you bow lightly to Jin, and then offer a slightly deeper one to the emperor. Quickly and quietly, you padd off to the bedchambers, not wanting either of them to catch the tear that spilled over. You want to look back so badly, but you stop yourself. You can’t even begin to imagine the trouble you’re both going to be in. You stop behind the archway of the shared bedroom and listen in on the hushed conversation.

“Concubine Mother,” the emperor begins, “she really did stay late at the market. She was walking back through the throne room and I stopped her so that we could speak.”

Jin scoffs, “Speak? Please. Surely you don’t take me as a fool. It has been noticed by a number of certain royal officials that you call on her often…”

The emperor sighs.

“I’ve been careful, Jin,” he assures him.

“Good. One more thing,” he says, “I told her that the guards would be briefed on her situation. There was no need for you to walk her to the dormitories.”

“I… I just wanted to,” the king muttered; you were barely able to hear it.

“I see,” Jin says, with a heavy pause, “Truly. Make no mistake, Your Highness. I see everything. And I understand more than you know.”

Silence.

“I see the way you look at her. The way she looks at you,” he continues, “It would behoove you, Your Majesty, to request some of the others more frequently. Other people… influential people may begin to notice…”

“Understood.”

You don’t know why but suddenly, the thought of the king being with his other concubines makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. This is part of your job; something that you are well used to by now. Or... you were.

“Concubine Mother?” the emperor asks, “Please don’t think she is causing trouble. This is on me.”

“Alright,” he says, “but I have to tell you that I love that girl like she’s my own family. Be careful with her.”

“As long as I am alive, no harm will come to her,” he says more firmly than anything else he’s said so far, “that is a promise.”

“Glad to hear it, Majesty.”

You walk as quickly and as silently as you can back to your bed, grabbing your night clothes from underneath and quickly changing into the loose gown. You put your daytime concubine clothing into the other basket for used clothing beneath the bed frame, and climb into your sheets. Casting a shadow in the moonlight draping on the side of the wall, you see Jin’s form pause for a moment at the open door frame before walking onward to his own private chambers. You really hope you aren’t going to be scolded badly for this.

You don’t sleep well.

The next day, the emperor keeps his distance from you, as expected. He normally keeps himself at arms length from you, but today he spares no suggestive and flirty glances. You can’t possibly be upset at that, given what happened last night, but your stomach does drop a little when you pass him and he purposely avoids your gaze. It looked like he was with officials again; he so easily wears his stress in the creases between his eyebrows.

It’s like this for several days, and you learn to swallow it. The distance is a healthy reminder of what reality is, and it makes the heartache easier.

As before when you wanted to have some distance from everything, you decide to spend your day reading out in the North Gardens. He hasn’t called for you in almost a week, and you’ve temporarily decided to halt lessons as well. It pains you, the separation, but it’s better this way. Safer, this way. The thick novel you hold is helping you escape your own circling thoughts. Although they’ve calmed dramatically over the past few days, they are stirred easily by being busy in the palace. Having to stay vigilant of where the king is at all times, lest you give too much away is exhausting. Seeing the places in the palace that remind you of him is heart-wrenching. Reading next to the soft trickle of the fountain is always a comfort, and it allows you to put your guard down and breathe. You’re deep into your book when the head of the palace guard strolls by.

“Jungkook, hi,” you say, “lovely to see you.”

“Likewise, miss,” the young man says, “I was hoping I would find you out here. I have something for you.”

“Oh?” you ask, leaning forward and marking the spot in your book before putting it down.

He discreetly hands you a scrap of parchment, folded neatly into a small triangle. You know who it’s from, so you slip it into a flap of your dress and tuck it underneath your waist sash without batting an eye. He never sends notes, you think to yourself as you look back up at Jungkook. The only other one you’d received was the first one that he himself had slipped to you.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you say, after realizing that nobody can hear your conversation over the splash of the fountain and the chirp of the birds playing in it. He smiles back down at you, wisps of dark hair falling into his face. He is very young to be head of guard, especially for someplace as important as the royal palace, but he is exceptionally bright and extremely skilled in combat. If anyone had ever deserved a position, Jungkook deserved this one.

Jungkook has been an aide to you and the emperor for weeks now, in secret. He walked unannounced into the emperor’s bedchambers late one night, in an attempt to inform him of an urgent palace security matter, only to find the emperor instructing you with your practice sword how to properly parry to the air.

You had both been struck dumbfounded when the head of the royal palace guard had stopped in his tracks, mouth agape, digesting what was occurring in front of him. You were sure you were as good as dead.

You’ll never forget the feeling of relief when he spoke.

“She’d learn better if she were able to actually physically parry a sword, Your Majesty,” he had said with a cheeky smile.

It seems that more people than you had realized believe that a woman should have the right to defend herself, the head of the palace guard included. Jungkook was more than happy to help the two of you find a place to practice without worry of the noise escaping and exposing you both. You needed a way to practice outside of the palace walls, so that actual sword to sword contact could be made. It was Jungkook’s idea to change the guard routes to provide you both with an easy exit out of the back, but it was the emperor’s idea to meet in a small clearing in the woods, behind the palace and beyond its tall walls. He had confided to you the first night you were able to practice there that this is where he would come as a boy to practice alone. His father never liked for him to disappear, but he hated being watched all the time. This field was the only place he could be himself without the eyes of the whole kingdom on him. He had said it only felt right to teach his first student in this same place.

The first time your practice blade clashed with his under the stars had felt incredible. It was like you were truly learning to fight.

Now, in front of you, Jungkook doesn’t linger. He nods respectfully and continues strolling through the gardens as if he hadn’t come out here looking for you. You’re outside in broad daylight, after all. The man might be the head of the palace guard, but he still doesn’t take chances if he doesn’t have to. You decide to finish the chapter you’re on and then go back inside the palace to read your note, just to ensure you keep suspicion at bay. Even though you’re aching to see what Emperor Min has written to you.

He’s been under so much scrutiny lately that he’s been extremely stressed. That much is visible from his face alone, but there are whispers within the palace among the concubines about how his temper is getting shorter and shorter. You’re afraid of what that might mean for you, and the contents of the note.

What if he’s calling everything off? Could how he cares about you be a shadow to his overall responsibilities and appearance? It wouldn’t be unexpected, you’d just hoped… maybe it was different.

You’re on the end of the Northern Wing balcony when you find yourself alone enough to take the note from your waist sash and read it.

“My dove,” it says, “I hope you’re looking forward to practice this evening. I’ve got something exciting planned for you, since it has been so long since we’ve last practiced. Make sure you drink plenty of water.”

Quickly folding the paper again, you return it to your sash. You run over the possibilities in your mind, trying to imagine what he has thought of for you. A million scenarios rush through your head, each one more exciting than the last. Is he going to challenge you to keep a hand behind your back? What if he starts teaching you disarming techniques? Does he think you’re ready for ground fighting?

Really, none of that matters. You’re just glad to return to your nightly routine. You’ve missed him.

You go back into the concubine wing and conduct the rest of your day in preparation of whatever it is you’re going to have to endure tonight. You go through your tasks almost shaking with excitement. Sending a note is risky, so whatever he has planned must be intense.

You arrive at the clearing a little earlier than usual; your nerves are so on edge that if you had stayed in your bed any longer, you feel like you would have exploded.

You take the moment to enjoy the light breeze and the sound it makes as it rushes through the tall grass and the even taller trees. The sky is beautifully clear, and the moon, though not full, is bright enough to light up everything around you. In the far distance, above the top of the pines, you can just make out the very top of the royal palace. The gold ornamentation gently glimmers in the night.

It’s not long before you spot your emperor’s pale skin as he walks through the clearing. As he emerges from the treeline, you can just make out that he is carrying a large bundle. The way his long cloak sways around him as he walks is enrapturing, the grass parting and bowing to your king as he steps forward.

“I’ll admit,” you say as he gets close enough to hear you speak, “When I read your note, countless scenarios went through my head. None of them involved a package.”

“You’re a bright woman, dove, but I still have tricks up my sleeve,” he says with a wink as he tosses the wrapped bundle lightly onto the grass between you. It’s like nothing at all has changed in the past week. He takes the two sheathed practice swords off of the canvas and drops them down onto the ground at his side.

“Well,” he says, “are you going to open your present?”

“Oh, it’s a present?”

“A reward. You’ve impressed me with your hard work, and you deserve it.”

You stand there dumbfounded.

“Open it, dove,” he says quietly.

Bending down, you remove layers of the tough canvas until you feel something softer. It’s a strange array of padded cloth, in various odd shapes. You look up at your king, standing over you with his hands behind his back, chewing on his lip. Is he… nervous? You dig into the package further and pull out the largest piece. You hold it up and it finally hits you; it looks like a sort of jacket, with two pads on either top side… for arms?

“It’s…?” you start.

“Armor,” he says, almost too quickly, and then hesitates, “for you.”

You’re frozen where you crouch, blinking at the armour set in front of you. The white fabric is edged and trimmed with a fine gold thread, and the padding in the quilting is firmer than one would expect. You give it a good squeeze, and despite its lightweight feel, it’s extremely resilient. It doesn’t bend at all, no matter how much you try to warp it. It’s the best gift you’ve ever received.

In one swift motion, you drop the torso piece into the pile and throw yourself over the package and up onto him. He stumbles back, clearly not expecting the embrace, but it’s only a moment before he melts into it. His arms around your back pull you in tight, and you realize that you’ve missed the way he smells. You almost wish you would have purchased the scent you’d found at the market booth last week. You would have, had you known that he would be gone from you for so long.

“You better hurry and put it on, dove. We don’t have all night,” he says into the shell of your ear. Reluctantly, you pull away and pick up the mound of cloth. You trot to one side of the clearing where there is a particularly large bush. Behind it, you change. Even though the king has seen every last inch of you, it still seems appropriate to change out of sight for this. You don’t even have to remove your gown, but you want it to be a surprise.

Once you have the set on and tied, you walk back out into the clearing. He has his back turned to you, clearly having the same idea, so you call out to him.

“Your Majesty?”

He turns around and takes his time looking at your form. His eyes slowly rake over you, from top to bottom, and a small smile gradually spreads across his face. You wish you could know what he’s thinking, but more than anything, you want him near to you again.

“Aren’t you going to come see how it fits?” you tease. He lowers his gaze and walks slowly to where you stand in the tall grass. He lifts up one of your arms and holds it delicately as he makes a show of examining it.

“Is it too heavy?” he asks, lowering your arm and reaching around your back, barely touching it.

“I don’t think so, Your Highness,” you reply, turning fully around once so that he may see.

“And you wear it well,” he says, landing a peck on the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, “of course you do. Come, let’s begin. Let’s see if it works.”

The night is spent as the other nights in the clearing are. You goad each other into a type of dance, explosively throwing strikes and deftly dodging them. You do feel a slight encumbrance at the addition of the light armor, but it also makes you more bold. You take more chances as the night progresses, knowing that the padding will lessen the blow of the dull practice sword that he swings in your direction. The contact still hurts, though, and you quickly begin to tire. It doesn’t help that you haven’t practiced in over a week, either. Other than pure love for the art, stamina has to be another reason the emperor practices as much as he does. Without constant practice, you can expect to exhaust yourself quickly. And you’re absolutely already there. So you start making desperate moves, just so the match will end and you can rest a moment.

You take the opportunity to use your padded forearm to parry away an overhead strike, and he uses your open body posture to his advantage. He lunges forward, and you find yourself crashing onto the soft ground below, his weight fully on top of you. The practice blade falls out of your hand and topples into the grass. You’re both panting wildly, and you look up into his angry eyes.

“Have you forgotten that a sword has a blade, dove?” he asks, not even trying to hide the anger in his tone.

“No, I…” you begin, but can’t find the words. You know what he’s getting at, but you’re too tired.

“If you were to pull that move in a real fight, with a real blade, you would be missing an arm,” he says coldly. He grabs the forearm you used to block.

“This isn’t metal. It’s cloth. Do you think a real sword could not pierce it?” he asks harshly. You don’t answer.

“Do you?!” he repeats, more forcefully.

“It... could, Your Majesty…” you say, almost in a whisper. You aren’t sure why he’s so upset about this.

“Never do that again. Do you understand? You will never use your own body as a shield.” You can’t take it anymore. It’s been an entire week with not so much as a word, and now that you finally get to see him again, he’s fussing at you.

“I won’t ever have to,” you spit back at him, “I will never be in any real danger. I will never actually wield a true blade against another. Unlike you, I will never have to. This is all just for fun, and you know it. There’s no point in me pretending it’s real when it’s not. There’s no reason for me to treat this seriously when at the end of the day, it’s just a game. This is all just a game. This means nothing. Nothing real will come out of this, you know, because it can’t. It can’t matter. It can’t be real.”

He stands up and walks a few paces away from you. His fingers run through his hair, and you hear him sigh.

“What if it were real?” you barely hear him ask.

What?!

“Your Majesty?”

“Would you like to wield a real blade?”

There’s no point in lying. There’s no reason to hide what you want.

“Yes. I do,” you say. He sighs. Reaching for his own sword in the grass.

“Then do it,” he says, slowly closing the distance between you. He unsheathes his sword, holds the shining blade in his two open palms, and extends it out to you.

“But that’s your blade, My King…” you begin.

“Yes, dove, I am aware,” he replies, “I want you to use it. Tonight. Against me.”\

No. This isn’t fair.

“What will you use, then? It’s not fair if I have a blade and you do not. What if I… kill you?”

The king just chuckles.

“My dear, you have yet to land a strike to me, and you are worried that you’re going to kill me?” he says, rolling his eyes, before looking into yours again. You’re unconvinced. He just sighs.

“I promise, I’ll be fine.”

You take the blade, and tighten your right hand around the tang. Your knuckles turn white under the stress. It’s lighter than you thought it would be. You step back and give it a few swings to test the balance and weight. You look at the glint of the moon on the blade, and then look up to meet the eyes of your king. He’s got the practice sword at the ready, and puts his left foot back into a ready stance. There’s not a drop of fear in his eyes.

In fact, he looks more excited than he’s ever been. You feel a boldness rising through your belly, and you hoist up the blade. Each one of your strikes are met with the clang of his practice blade, and the shrill scrape of blade against metal rips through the night air.

He blocks each of your attacks with precision and ease, and before long, your body begins to betray you. Your dodges become much slower, and soon, you find it hard to take another step. He shows no signs of exhaustion; in fact, his blocks become even more forceful. You let the sword fall gently to the grass at your side, a clear sign to your opponent that you’re done.

He grins and slowly steps to where you stand panting and holds out both of his hands, palms up. You place his sword back into his possession, and crash onto the ground below. You catch your breath as you study the stars. You hear the metal as the emperor sheaths his blade, and you feel the grass shift as he sits next to you.

“How did it feel?” he asks.

“Like…” you begin, before settling on the right word, “I was unstoppable.”

“Oh, I assure you,” he says with a chuckle, “you were quite stoppable.”

“Yes, but that’s not how I felt!” you say, playfully hitting him on the arm.

“Yes, that is one of the blessings and curses of learning this discipline,” he says, running his fingers through your messy hair, “You gain confidence, but it can often be miscalculated.” He lets that sink in. He continues.

“I would be doing you a disservice if I were to simply teach you the technique and forgo the attitude one must have. You see, dove, having the skill to wield a weapon in practice is different than an actual survival situation. Even here, your senses heighten and you feel your body strengthen with nerves, but in a real battle, that heightening of your senses can hold you back. It can cost you a limb. It can cost you your life.”

“Even though you will never see a real opponent, I have an obligation as your teacher to share with you everything I know,” he looks up at you, “I won’t allow for your knowledge to be single sided. A sword’s strength lies in it’s two blades, does it not?” Several beats pass as you take in everything he’s said.

“Thank you,” you say, “for everything. It was exciting to wield a true blade. The danger was… exciting.”

“You know, I had a feeling that you would feel that way. Perhaps I have one additional new thing to introduce you to this evening…”

He reaches over to your arm, where the light armor is fixed in place. He starts to untie the knots at your wrist, kissing the skin once exposed. With every time his lips meet your skin, your heart threatens to come up out of you. But no matter how much you missed him, you can’t stop the brat inside of you from coming out.

“I think I can remove my own armor,” you tease, pulling your arm away from him.

“Yes, but it’s much more fun when I do it,” he replies, grabbing a hold of your other arm. You let him slowly take off each piece of armor, and then your dress, and then your undergarments. He removes his own robe and tosses it to the side, leaving only his undershorts in place.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, wondering what your king has in store for you.

He reaches over and unsheathes his sword, and everything you thought was going to happen melts away.

“The danger excited you, dove?” he asks, casually examining his blade in front of you.

“Yes, My King,” you reply cautiously, and then feel the need to explain yourself, “I... didn’t know if the blade would cut… If it would slash you, or if I would make a mistake and nick myself…”

He slowly inches his blade closer to you, and stops right before making contact with the skin on your leg.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. You nod carefully, and he grins. “Be very still.” He turns his sword so that the flat side of the blade is facing you, and he slowly presses it against the hot skin of your thigh. The cool metal shocks you, but you are able to remain perfectly still, captivated by the danger of the blade. Every inch he drags the blade unearths something deep within your belly.

He finally removes it from your thigh, and places it in the grass to the side of your body as he kneels down. Now between your legs, he takes the tip of his nose and runs it up to the apex of your thighs, warm breath ghosting over where his cool blade had just been. He arrives at your cunt, and takes the tip of his nose to your clit.

“Mmm, you’re already wet… I knew you would enjoy that,” he says into your folds, “Maybe we should do it again.” Even though it doesn’t come out as a question, his eyes look up at you from his place in between your legs as if asking for permission. Mouth agape, you nod your consent.

“Excellent,” he says, licking a stripe up your slit.

He reaches for the sword at your side, and gives your clit one more sloppy kiss. You watch as the edge of the blade glimmers as he lifts himself up. You allow yourself to fully drop to the soft earth below, your messy hair strewn about the grass. He sits above you, and lowers his blade down so that the flat side of the tip barely touches your forehead. He removes it and places it again, but lower, cold and weighty on the pillows of your parted lips.

He removes the blade and presses it lower still, at the dip in your clavicle, and begins to gently drag it down. As the blade slides down your chest, the chilling touch of the metal makes your pussy clench in anticipation. He slides the entire length between the mounds of your breasts, letting the tip trail down to your belly button, and as soon as the tip is about to reach your clit, he picks up the blade. He rotates it tip-side up, so that the hilt is to the ground. He takes the knob of the tang and presses it on your clit, moving in small circles against your bud. The king moves the shaft of the handle down until he’s teasing your entrance with it.

He adds pressure, toying with inserting it into your eager slit. You buck your hips up and throw them in circles, desperately trying to get more friction against the hilt of his sword.

“Do you want something, dove?” the king asks nonchalantly, though his eyes betray him.

“Please, Your Majesty,” you whine, “please fuck me.”

“Hmmm,” he teases, “should I?”

“Please,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. It’s been an entire week. Even though you tried your hardest to push him out of your mind, your nightly dreams betrayed you.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he says, tossing his sword onto the grass to your left and pulling himself out of the top of his shorts. He runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the drops of precum that bead there. He rubs his length up your folds, taking the slick that’s there, before pressing into you.

He doesn't allow you time to adjust to the stretch before he’s thrusting hard into you, but he knows by now that you like your pleasure with a drop of pain.

You buck your hips up into him to meet his thrusts, and reach up to touch his chest. A thin coat of sweat forms under your hand, and you slowly trace your hand down his torso until it meets his cock. He feels better than your dreams depicted, but you want more.

You use the last bit of your strength to sit up and push him down onto his back. The change in position pushes him deeper into you, and you grind hard onto him.

“I think I like when your confidence is boosted, little one..” he says, “But don’t think you’re going to get away with that.”

He grabs your arms and pulls you down onto him, locking you in by wrapping his arms around your back. He pushes his hips up and begins snapping them up into you relentlessly. He moves his arms from securing your back to palming your ass cheeks, spreading them slightly to bring the shock of cool air.

He allows you to sit up, and you support your weight with your knees so that he can continue his pace. It’s not a difficult task, since you have grown in strength. The new angle has him hitting your most sensitive spot, and in seconds, you’re hurtling toward your climax. He reaches up and hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth, and that alone has you tumbling over the edge.

It’s not long before he finishes as well, spilling his seed inside of you. You collapse on top of him, having spent every ounce of energy you have.

You both lay there for a moment, just holding each other. Taking in every detail you can about this moment. His parted lips, how his chest is still rising and falling as he catches his breath, the soft waves of his long, golden hair, how the muscles of his arm flex as he gently rubs your back.

In the arms of your king, the only man in the world who isn’t permitted to love you, you feel at home.

Like a ton of bricks, you remember that you shouldn’t allow yourself this feeling, so you pull away from him. The last time you allowed yourself this luxury, it could have cost you your life. He slips out of you, and his seed begins to spill out as you stand. You go to retrieve your clothes, grabbing the cloth that was used to wrap your armor and using it to clean yourself.

“We should go back,” you say, glancing back at him. His brows are slightly furrowed, and his face drops as you speak.

“Yeah,” he says, focused on the ground and picking at some of the strands of long grass that poke at his arms. Distracting himself.

You turn back around so that he can’t see that your eyes are filling with tears.

“Yeah.”

#bts smut #yoongi smut #emperor!yoongi #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #fantasy!au #emperor!au #the emperor's dagger #xmint-conditionx #knifeplay #swordplay?#dom!yoongi #sub!reader #fem!reader

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 3 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: Gene Page/AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Part three of the savior sessions. Both the reader and Negan open up about their fears on a rainy day.

Word Count: 3130

Warning: Mention of The Governor being a rapist (briefly)

Song I Wrote To: “Rain” by Ben Platt

Note: I am trying to make these as gender-neutral as possible. If you have seen me use specific pronouns or anything that counters that, let me know! Thanks! I am working on my Daryl story, but I wanted to throw this out there as I do.

--------

It was raining when you woke up.

Droplets raced down your windows and thunder rolled in the distance. You knew it would be a day that was spent mostly inside. However, you also knew you had to pay Negan a visit.

It was odd. He had surprised you. You could still see the layers of the man he was years before, but there was something...new that wasn’t there when he stepped out of that RV and introduced himself to your people.

Since you were young, you always believed in second chances. You never really thought anyone was truly evil until the world ended. Then, you had met people like the Governor and Gareth, two men who killed who for fun, who took pleasure in the torture and destruction of others.

While Negan had done evil things, you didn’t think he was evil. If horrific acts categorize someone as unsavable, then those closest to you, and even yourself, would be considered just as bad. Nobody was innocent in the new world, but perhaps some of them could still find redemption.

Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling as the rain pelted the roof. The drumming of it drowned out the world for just a moment and you allowed yourself just a few more seconds of peace before throwing the blanket off and getting up for the day.

You quickly dressed and then made way your way to the window. Few people milled around in the soaked streets. A few kids splashed in puddles as their parents smiled from the cover of their porches. You watched as Gracie ran around as Aaron tried to catch her, both of them laughing the whole time.

Your house was one of the only ones that were left unscathed from the Savior’s attack. You lived next to Rosita who would sometimes use your spare bedroom when she needed a break from her boys. However, you tended to be alone for the most part unless one of the parents asked you to watch the kids. Being a teacher before the turn, you were really the only one who was able to get the little ones to calm down and listen.

Many people figured you would be the one to take over as the full-time teacher in Alexandria, but you couldn’t do it. You loved teaching back then, but now after everything, you were so different. And while you still cared about the kids, you were now more comfortable with a gun on your hip, watching the walls, or now, chatting with a killer.

You grabbed your coat and then headed out of your house, walking towards the infirmary. Siddiq had been experimenting with a new tea that would help improve the immune systems of the Alexandria residents as the weather turned for the worse. Laura had been his last guinea pig for a taste test and the blonde had nearly choked it down while she tried to put on a brave face. However, the doctor had seen right through her and tried again.

You were more than willing to help him out this morning as he had stitched you up enough over the past few years. The rain soaked your hair as you walked down the road, trying to keep your jacket tucked around your neck to keep the bandage that was placed there somewhat dry. Siddiq had patched you up the day before, but you had no desire to get an infection from a ruined bandage.

As you approached the infirmary, Siddiq was already waiting for you on the porch. “I saw you coming,” he said with a warm smile.

“I would have been here sooner, but I slept in,” you said with an apologetic shrug.

“It’s the weather,” Siddiq said as he picked up two mugs from the table by the door. When he handed both of them to you, you rose a brow in question. “It gets cold in that cell,” he said with a shrug of his own. You smiled slightly, oddly touched that Siddiq had thought of Negan. Then again, he was the one who had looked after the man after Rick had opened his throat.

You took a hesitant sip of the sweet-smelling tea and then relaxed as it actually tasted pretty good. “I think you managed to get this one right, Doctor,” you said raising your cup to him.

“Mind telling other people that?” he asked.

“I’ll spread the word, Siddiq,” you said, walking back down his steps.

“Have fun,” he teased.

“If both of my hands weren’t occupied, I would be sending you a very rude gesture right now,” you called over your shoulder as you continued toward the main road that led to Negan’s cell.

The guard waved to you as he left his post. You figured he hadn’t been there long. You were also trying to convince Michonne to drop the guard altogether. Negan knew he would most likely be executed if he broke out and from your conversations with him, you didn’t think he would try anyway.

Balancing the mugs in one hand, you entered the stone building, shoving the door close with your foot. “Someone has their hands full this mornin’,” Negan said as he stood by the bars.

“Courtesy of the good doctor,” you said, approaching him and handing him a steaming mug. “Trust me, I already checked for poison.” You hadn’t but it amused him. Negan took the mug through the bars and enclosed his hands around it.

Not bothering with the chair this time, you sat on the ground by the bars, pulling your knees up. Negan joined you, leaning against the cold wall. “How was your morning?” he asked, pleasantly. You chuckled under your breath. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said shaking your head. “It’s been...wet.” Negan looked at you and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t be gross,” you warned and he raised a hand in surrender.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said.

“No, but you were thinking it,” you said with narrowed eyes.

“Ah, see, would you look at that! We’re so close we can already read each other’s minds.”

“Oh, great,” you said, turning up your nose. Negan mirrored your earlier expression and rolled his own eyes.

“So, you don’t like the rain, then?” he asked.

“I don’t care for the thunderstorms, but I like a little rain. It makes the Walkers slower and freshens up the rotten air,” you explained, sipping on your tea.

“Yeah,” Negan agreed, “I’m not too big on the thunderstorms either. Way back when the world was still somewhat functioning, we had a massive storm that cut the power right in the middle of the school day. Kids are rambunctious enough and then you give the little assholes a power outage and well…”

“Shit hits the fan,” you concluded.

“You sound like you have personal experience,” Negan noticed.

“I used to teach middle and high school English,” you revealed and Negan looked at you in surprise.

“Did you like it?”

“It was better than this,” you said with a snort.

“Fair enough,” Negan said. You let your head fall back and that’s when he noticed the bandage on your neck. “What happened there?” Your hand came up to touch the dressing.

“Oh, I got cut when I was helping Scott with one of the walls. Walkers snuck up on us and I tripped on a piece of metal, scratch it on my way down. No big deal, I’ve had worse.”

“Haven’t we all,” Negan muttered and you saw a flash of something behind his eyes, but it was gone in a second. “Well, you need to be more careful (Y/N), I can’t have my BFF gettin’ munched on by a corpse.”

“BFF?” you asked with raised brows. Negan just winked back. “Alright, Mister, today, I want to hear a story from you.”

“I thought you said you were going to tell me what your vote would be,” Negan said, turning his head to look at you, waiting. You sighed as you remembered promising him that at the end of your last conversation, but you had been doing most of the talking in these sessions and it was his turn.

“Story first,” you told him. “Then I’ll tell you.” He looked at you annoyed for a moment before shrugging.

“As you wish, your majesty,” he said, but then he began his story. “Alright, how about the first time I ran into a herd?”

“Oh? Do tell,” you said, resting your elbow on your knee and watching him.

“Right, so, it wasn’t long after the Turn. Corpses were everywhere and you couldn’t walk out the door without having to bash in some skulls. I was trying to find someplace to hold up for a few days. I was with two other people, both are dead now, but they were decent people to travel with. My wife had just died and I needed to just leave, you know?” you nodded, understanding. “I made it to Richmond and god the number of Walkers was fucking terrifying. At this point, nobody knew what the fuck was going on. Not like we do now, but it was different back then as you remember.

“We moved into the city and then when I headed into the main district, lookin’ for the old FEMA centers, that’s when we saw it. Must have been over five hundred, maybe more. It was like they were all rotating in one big circle and then the bastards saw us and...well shit, I had never run so damn fast in my life. It was like we were magnets for the things and no matter where we turned, there were more and more…” Negan let out a breath as his memories haunted him.

“What did you do to get away?” you asked.

“Managed to get an old tow truck workin’,” he said. “Plowed that sucker right through them until we could find high ground. Wasn’t pretty, but dealing with Walkers never is.”

“I think we all learned not to go to cities again after the first time,” you said, finishing your tea.

“You did it too?”

“Atlanta,” you said with a nod. “Though, I did it multiple times for supplies so I guess I’m the idiot here.”

“These were the runs you went on with Glenn?” he asked and you were surprised to hear him say Glenn’s name, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Right,” you confirmed. “Though, I wasn’t with him the day he found Rick.”

Negan was quiet then and you knew he was thinking about Glenn. A few days before, Gabriel had come to you and told you that he sometimes overheard Negan saying his victims’ names in his sleep. Negan probably didn’t even know he was doing it, but it only added to your theory that Negan felt guilt for what happened at the line-up and everything afterward.

“The fear I felt when all those Walkers were coming for us…” Negan continued. “It was the most primal thing I had ever felt. You know how they talk about fight or flight?”

“Yeah.”

“I never once thought to fight at that moment. All I wanted to do was run and not look back. It wasn’t until weeks later that I got sick of running and I finally made Lucille.”

“‘Lucille, give me strength’,” you quoted and his head whipped towards you. “I told you, I was good at surveillance. I guess she did more for you than we all first thought. Not just a bat after all.”

“Never was that simple,” he said and you could hear the sadness in his voice as he spoke the words.

You were wondering if you could find her out in that field. It had been years, but if by some miracle it was there, you may be able to get it. Not that you were going to give it to Negan, but maybe someday if he was let out and went looking for her, you could give that piece back to him. The thing that was hated by your people but created the resilient man before you. You figured that was something.

“You asked me before who the first person I killed was,” you began. Negan waited patiently. “I never knew his name or if he had a family, but I remember his face and how I felt at that moment. I was terrified. We were under attack by this man who called himself The Governor. This man ran a community, a town, and he was horrible. He was a rapist, a killer, and an overall tyrant. Not somebody that would have been welcomed here or the Sanctuary.”

“Damn right,” Negan sneered.

“We had liberated the town and Michonne had tried to kill him so he was pissed and eventually rolled up to the gates of the prison we were living in. He blasted our towers to rubble and his men and women began killing us. We were lucky enough to be pretty strong then and we killed most of them. Daryl got his hands on some grenades and took the tank out.”

“Tank?” Negan asked.

“I told you, son of a bitch was crazy. His people attacked and we had to defend ourselves. I was trying to wrangle all the kids with a man by the name of Tyreese. He was Sasha’s brother. He and I were almost out when this man came up and tried to kill Tyreese as he held a very young Judith in his arms.”

Taking a breath, you tried to stay calm as you recounted the events. “He was gonna kill the baby and I had one of Daryl’s knife so I just rammed it into the man’s neck. I didn’t think it would be that hard, you know? Walkers are much easier, so when the blade made contact, it almost didn’t go through. Blood flowed all over me from the artery I had severed and Tyreese ran with Judith. I watched the man die at my feet as I collected myself, but it didn’t last long. A second later and an explosion racked the courtyard and I went down. I didn’t see Tyreese or the baby until we were all reunited.”

“You did it to protect your people, to protect a child,” Negan reminded you.

“I wasn’t upset I killed him, Negan,” you said. “I was upset at how easy it was to do it.”

“I get that,” he said and you could tell he was being honest. That was something you admired about him, he never lied if he could help it. “What happened after that?”

“Michonne killed the Governor and I woke up just as a Walker was about to kill me. Then, Glenn came out of nowhere and killed it and I ended up staying with him and Tara as we went to find the others. On the road is where we met Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene. I didn’t know it then, but I would be killing a lot more in the next few weeks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not and you wouldn’t be either if you knew who tried to kill us...who tried to fucking slaughter us like cows…” your fists curled in as the visuals of Terminus flashed behind your eyes.

You hadn’t realized you were shaking until you felt a hand on yours as Negan reached through the bars to calm your hands. You realized then that this was the first time he had touched you and you felt oddly comforted. You patted his hand in thanks and he withdrew it, placing it back in his lap. “So, just know you’re not the only one who has felt fear like you did in that city.”

“But you fought,” he said.

“I did, but all I wanted to do was run. It took me a long time to run towards danger than from it. Rick, Daryl, Carol, Abe, they all taught me to fight.”

“They did a good job,” he complimented. “You are one certified badass (Y/L/N).”

“Who told you my last name?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Judith,” he said with a grin.

“Should have known,” you said with a small smile.

“There it is,” Negan said, pointing at your mouth. “I like seeing you smile.” You went to roll your eyes again, but a loud crash of thunder interrupted you. You jumped.

“Jesus,” you swore under your breath. “That is why I hate storms.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he joked and you pushed his shoulder through the bars, making him laugh. The two of you sat in silence then, listening to the rain. This was only your third time speaking to him, but you were starting to feel a kind of camaraderie between the two of you. It was strange, but it began to feel natural. You wondered if this is how Judith felt when she spoke to him, this kind of calmness. Then again, Judith could make friends with everyone.

Negan’s eyes fell closed as he breathed in deep. In the low light of the cell, you could see the shiny line of the scar that permanently marked his throat and you finally answered his question.

“I would have voted no,” you whispered. His eyes opened slowly and his head rolled to the right to look at you.

“Why?” he simply asked. You kept eye contact as you spoke, making sure he understood every word.

“None of us are saints, Negan,” you began. “All of us, Hilltop, Alexandria, Kingdom, Oceanside, we’ve all killed without a second thought to protect what’s ours. I’m not saying what you did was right, but sometimes I think back to the line-up or when you set the Walkers loose on Hilltop and I can’t help but think that I would’ve done the same if the situation was reversed. Maybe not with a baseball bat, but we’ve tortured and we’ve executed.”

“So, you’re saying that you wouldn’t have killed me because you’ve done shitty things, too?” he asked.

“There is enough death in the world already,” you said with a shrug.

“Unbeing dead isn't being alive,” Negan quotes and you tilted your head slightly.

“E.E. Cummings was a wise man.”

“Indeed he was,” Negan agreed with a smile. “Thanks for saying that.”

“I told you I didn’t hate you and I meant it. To an outsider, we’re both monsters,” you explained. “I imagine that if I had been with the Saviors, I would have seen this side as the villains. All about perception, my friend.”

“Ah, so you agree,” he said with a grin, “we are friends.”

“Oh, shut up.”

TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @sophia-gwendolyn @ritajammer21

#walkerwords #savior sessions #twd #twd imagines #negan imagine #negan x reader #reader insert #The Walking Dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead fanfiction #TWD season 9 #Prison Negan

173 notes · View notes

caxsthetic · 4 years

Text

Lovely Eyes

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Hurtful Truth: Not everyone gets the privilege to be loved by the same person twice.

Pt. 2 < Part 3 > Bonus Chapter

The scent of the burnt cake could be smelled throughout the house. You opened up your eyes immediately, broke free from the arms of your lovers when you remember that you put a cake inside the oven. Your feet dashed to the kitchen, turning it off and checking out the now brown cake.

Akaashi walked drowsily to follow you, and he was sleepy after the morning rendezvous that you two shared around half an hour ago. You were baking this morning when he suddenly wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you to the bedroom once again, didn't know that you already put a cake inside the oven.

"Kaashi! Look at what you've done!" The cake in your hand was now burnt, you whined like a child as you look at the failed masterpiece, "You shouldn't have done that you know, doing it in the morning is a no from now on!"

The black-haired man could only chuckle and walk towards you, kissing your forehead as he stood in front of you. He didn't mind being yelled at, because he knew that it was just a protest, not that you were outraged towards him for real. When his lips grazed on your skin, it's like you forget why you even got angry at him in the first place.

It's been sixteen months since the incident, the incident when you lost the love of your life because of something that human couldn't control. You don't know how mother nature works their charms, but sometimes you didn't know either the event is a blessing or a curse. Maybe, even something in between.

The first three months were a living hell. Everywhere you go, you could always see him at the end side of your gaze. You still remember every syllable that emitted from his lips at your third year anniversary. The night when he said that he didn't love you anymore, made a significant impact on your life.

You loved Bokuto Koutarou for around ten years of your life, and it's something that anyone couldn't forcibly take it off from you so easily. For three months you were devastated, your eyes will always looking at your ring finger, the empty space still reminded you about the drastic change that you never thought would happen.

But you were not alone; you are never alone in this journey of life. There will always be someone who took care of you. Sometimes without you knowing, they are guarding you. And in this particular time, that guardian angel taking a form as your current lovers, Akaashi Keiji.

When one hundred days finally passed, you got the confession that has been held for ten years. Love is not on your radar after losing someone that you truly love to the painful reality. The fact that someone wouldn't stop loving you, made you thought about all of the possibilities if you have never become a Bokuto, but instead, having Akaashi as your last name from the start.

Are you going to still have those heartaches? Would you still crying at the night you were supposed to have fun after three years married to someone that you love? Will someone fall out of love from you as Bokuto did?

Then he came, throwing away all of the doubts. Turning you to always looking forward, forgetting the possibilities from the past and support you to strive for the best version of you. Akaashi Keiji couldn't love someone else once he falls in love, even though that you were out of his grasp before, the thought of loving someone else was just so wrong.

"Everything okay, Kaashi?" Both of you were currently on a night stroll together, enjoying the breeze and the company. You were standing at the top of the hill, wind stroking your cheek as he stood beside you.

You are beautiful, always be in his eyes. Your heart was always out of his grasp, but now, he feels like the world finally gave him the chance to have you. He took a step forward, removing the strand of hair on your face, tugging it behind your ears.

"Not really," He always speaks the truth to you, never hiding any kind of thought. That was actually what brings you two to trust each other so much. Because both of you would never lie to each other, "What are you thinking about falling in love?"

His question was catching you off guard. Akaashi knew you like you shared the same mind, so it's something that he would ask if he didn't feel so sure about it. And in this case, he didn't know for sure what lays inside your heart right now. You took a deep breath, looking at the scenery that unfolded in front of you. Heart beatings a little bit faster,

"The truth? I don't know." You raised your left hand in front of your face, "Right now? I want to wake up and think everything that happened in these past few months was just a dream. Bad dream." Longing smile could be seen from your face, "But actually, I don't know that I miss being Bokuto's wife, or I just miss the feeling to be loved by someone."

Akaashi closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself. His mind still conflicted to either confess his love for you or just waiting for the right time.

But then, when is exactly the right time?

"I love you," You jolted when you heard the three words coming out from his lips, "I love you since you covered for me when I forgot to bring the homework to Miyano-sensei." He remembered the time when you style your hair into a ponytail, loving how your hair seems to bounce every time you moved, "I still love you even when you walked down the aisle with my best friend."

"Keiji..."

"And I still do, after all this time." Your eyes were glossy as he poured all of his love that finally emerged on the surface, "I love you for the longest time, and it never withers." All of those words were now absorbed in your mind completely.

How could someone love another person like this? Aren't they supposed to let them go when someone they love finally out of their grasp? Why didn't Akaashi take that chance? Why would a man like him love you, unconditionally? The man in front of you has been throwing all the love that he supposed to get from someone else that might be better than you.

But Akaashi Keiji only wants you, and he wouldn't love anybody else as long as he lives.

"I couldn't say that I love you too, Kaashi." You were telling the truth. One part of you really wants to say that you love him too, but the other part telling you to wait. It will only become a sweet lie if you say it now. Akaashi nodded at your answer, understanding your feelings as you said that. You took another step towards him, grabbing his hand that produced cold sweat, "But maybe tomorrow I will, or maybe even in an hour. We never know, right?"

"W-What are you trying to say, (Y/n)?" The gunmetal blue eyes looked at you with hope lingering inside. It's something that he never has after Bokuto proposed to you, hope. You gave him a sincere smile, trying to calm down the man that always been there for you. Someone that always love you even when everything's going downhill.

"I have a crush on you, that's for sure." You giggled, feeling like a teenager in love, "If I am a high schooler, I will tell you right now that I love you, Kaashi. But it's not reaching that stage yet." One of your palms was pressed on his cheek, "I need time to heal, and it will be hard coping with my emotion." Your eyes gazing into his loving eyes, "Are you going to be okay with that?" He closed his eyes, feeling the heat of your palm.

"I will take any chance that I have, (Y/n)." He leaned down to kiss the crown of your head, "And if it has the possibility to make you mine. Always." You let out a breath that you unconsciously hold. Then you jumped to his arms, feeling the warmth that started to engulf you. Maybe opening up your heart once again wouldn't be so bad. You just need to be patient as time will take you somewhere. Somewhere better for the two of you.

Here you were now, in the arms of someone that you love. His shirt wrapped your bare skin as his calloused fingers tracing your arms with adoration. You already forgot about the burnt cake that lay on the kitchen island. Since his confession, you have been giving him all of your attention. Remembering every detail and how his eyes never leave your figure.

He was so gentle from what you can conclude after living with him for more than a year. Akaashi will always walk on the dangerous side as you cross the road, he always waited for you when you went inside your office until you were out of sight, he will remind you when you were overworking yourself. Every little thing that he did finally grow the feeling inside your heart into something more.

Like what he promised, he never stops loving you. There were times when he tried to do so in the past years, but it never works. So he decided just to stop trying and embraced the blessing of falling for someone. At the end of the day, his thought will be filled with the memories of you. But now, you were with him to actually make a new memory every day. For him, it feels like a miracle.

"Are we going to watch the final tomorrow?" You looked up to search for his eyes, "We promised Bo to come after all, and I already tell my boss about it. But could you come?" He was now looking at you too, putting his forehead at the top of your hair.

"Hm, I already told everyone that I need to support my best friend on the match." He kissed your forehead before letting you go gently, "It's final tomorrow. We have to come earlier if we want to get the perfect seat." You were leaning on your counter as he grabbed a knife from the shelf, "Help me with this cake, love. We could still save it if we just cut out the top."

Giggling, you walked towards him and kissed his cheek gently before helped him to cut the cake. Like what he said, the inside was still perfect. It's just the outside that was already burnt. Every day, he would surprise you with a little affection and thoughtful act, making you fall harder to the man.

If it takes you the biggest heartbreak that you could ever have to feel his love, maybe, just maybe... Fate is not that cruel towards you.

***

You and Akaashi come around one hour before the match has begun. The whole arena has been filled with spectators. After all, the final is really filled with magnificent players. You got the seat on the front row as always, right near the MSBY spectators. As you wait for the match to start, you excused yourself from Akaashi to go to the restroom. Better go now than leaving in the middle of the match.

As you walked to the restroom, your thought was filled with excitement for the game. Today's final, MSBY will meet a team where they have Oikawa Tooru. After the grand king comeback from Argentine, almost every team want a piece of him. It's not that you didn't believe Miya Atsumu, it's just he needs to be more careful. The entire team need to be more cautious.

Deep in your thought, you didn't realise what stood in front of you. You bumped to someone, but he was tall that made you fall to the ground,

"What the-" The familiar voice made you looked up to see the one that you bumped to, "Whoa! Mom!" Your eyes twitched as you heard the nickname from the MSBY setter, "Sorry, sorry, let me help you." He extended his right hand to help you up, you reached for his hand and dusted your coat as you stood.

"It's not your fault, Atsumu-san." You gave him your usual smile, but that's enough to make him blush a little, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you get prepared for the match?"

"Well, I do." His voice always filled with mischief, "But I want to stroll around first, letting go all the nervousness, you know?" You blinked, someone like Miya Atsumu could be nervous after all. Maybe the pressure of international opponent could do that, "What about you? Are you coming here alone?"

"Ah, I am here with Kaashi, of course. Akaashi Keiji." Miya widened his eyes a little as he saw your expression when you mentioned the name. It was the same expression from around a year ago every time you talked about Bokuto. He immediately shook the thought out of his mind, "Does everyone okay? How is Bo?"

Even if you were no longer his to begin with, you still cared for the hyperactive wing spiker. After all, you once vowed in front of everyone that you will always be there for him. And you are not someone who will back down from your promise under any circumstances.

"Bokkun will always be Bokkun, but he's alright now." You let out a long sigh, that particular owl couldn't be read sometimes. His mood swing is the worst, and no one could predict what possibly made him goes into the dejected mode. Miya's phone vibrates with a lot of messages, he opened it up and found everyone wanting him to prepare for the match, "Ah, I am sorry, but I have to leave."

"Sure! I know everyone will do their best today." You patted his arm, a little affection that you always give to everyone that you cared for, "Go! Don't let they release a search party just to find you!" You waved your hand as Miya nodded and gave you a little salute.

His long legs stride towards the court, but he turned to look at you one more time. Noticing something that made him widened his eyes more while you still smile and waved towards him, "Hey, (N/n)." You stopped your wave mid-air as he stood there not far from your figure. He gave you a sincere smile, something that rarely appeared on his face, "Congratulation."

Before you could answer him, he turned his head and rushed back to the court once again. Leaving you there with a little smile on your face as you realised what's the meaning behind his word. After that, there is no one you were close with that you bumped to. You saw Konoha and the other members from your high school and greet each other as you walked back to sit beside your lovers.

Not long after that, the match has begun. The entire arena was so loud, but somehow you could still hear Bokuto's voice as he let out his famous line. Noting your attention was solely focused on the match, Akaashi leaned his arms to met with yours, wanting to feel the warmth of your body when you two watch the entire set.

He never thought that he would be like this, hooked for your affection. Loving you is enough before, and when you finally let out the word to him, he feels that his life is completed. Akaashi never needed validation when it comes to the relationship. But as time goes by, he couldn't help but loving every affection that you gave. Because of that, he's becoming a little bit needy along the way.

Akaashi's hand grabbing your left hand and put it on his lap, tracing your finger, starting from your thumb. You realised what he's doing, so you kissed his head with your gaze still focused on the court. The delicate touch of his finger always brings a tingle on your heart. He suddenly moved the platinum ring that wrapped on your ring finger. You jolted, wondering why he moves it all of a sudden.

"It's nothing," He knew what's inside your mind, "It's just a little bit tilted, so I correct it." Akaashi kissed your hand and gazed at you. You too, couldn't help but take a look at your fiance. His eyes were so gentle as it falls to your face, faint smile plastering on his face. He can't believe that you would be his after ten years burying his feelings inside.

"What is it, Keiji?" He loves to hear his first name rolled from your lips, "Why are you looking at me like that?" You were actually embarrassed when he started to act like this—just silence and looking at you like there's no one else in this world.

"I love you," Your eyes widened, blush spread on your face as he said it so casually, "Thank you for giving me the chance, (Y/n)." It's like that day when he proposed to you. You were too dumbfounded to let out a word, but he just waited. He waited for minutes just for you, because that's just how much he loves you.

"I love you too, Keiji." He leaned in to kiss your forehead, "And thank you by waiting for me, even if I didn't give any sign of assurance before." His hand still grabbed yours, thumb caressing the back of your hand.

Since the night he confessed his love to you, he never backed down. Not even a little. Akaashi always believes that at the end, he will get his happy ending. When both of your hands interlocked for the first time, he promised he would hold you forever. No matter what happened in the future, he will always be there, loving you with as much as his heart could give.

The two of you were just having dinner in the house. Enjoying the moment together as you two celebrate the huge promotion that Akaashi got the day before. You were wrapped in a blanket with him in front of the fireplace. It's been nine months after he confessed his love towards you at the hill that one night, and everything was looking good for the two of you.

You were pouring a glass of wine that you bought months ago from your boss. But when you are going to give the glass to him, he took it and put it on the table beside him. His eyes suddenly look serious as he gazed it on you, you blinked, wondering the sudden change of atmosphere as you look deep into his eyes.

"(Y/n), I-" He gulped, feeling jittery all of a sudden. But when your hand engulfed him, it feels like he could conquer anything in his way, "I know it's only a year after what happened, and you may feel that this is too fast since we just date each other for like months ago. But, (Y/n) I-"

Akaashi closed his eyes, trying to calm his heart rate as you looked at him with eyes that he couldn't read, "I want you to be mine. God, I always want you to be mine, having my last name on yours..." He gulped, not daring to gaze in your eyes as he looked down to where your hands meet, "I love you too much, (Y/n), I-"

"Keiji," You put your finger on his chin, lifting his head so he will look at you, "Are you... proposing to me?" He bit his lip. Akaashi Keiji was never afraid in his entire life, but the possibility that you will reject him will be his biggest nightmare.

"Y-yes." He never stuttered, but here he was now sitting in front of you like an absolute mess. His black hair was sticking on his forehead because of the sweat that he produces. You didn't really know what to say after all. There's a moment when you are sure that you love Akaashi Keiji, and it grew larger every day. But you are afraid, afraid of another possibility of love.

Then you look at his gunmetal blue eyes, filled with love and adoration. The eyes that have been looking out for you since your high school life. The same eyes who saw every detail of you for the past ten years. The same eyes, who never stopped loving you even when you once belonged to his best friend.

And just like that, you couldn't help but said, "Take me as your wife, then."

He widened his eyes, those beautiful orbs taking one look at you before pressing his lips on yours. After all of these heartaches, he could finally embrace you as someone who will love him too. Both of you shared a lot of soft kisses the entire night, showering each other with adoration. His lips seldom leave yours, and you didn't even realise when he slipped the diamond ring on your finger.

The first set is won by the opponent, making you pout the entire time. Akaashi will give you a kiss on the forehead or squeeze your hand every time the opponent made a score. Your loving act towards each other didn't go unnoticed by a particular wing spiker.

MSBY was now taking a rest to wait for the second match. His golden eyes were searching for your figure and fall towards you. He needed your attention and the loving support that you always gave every time they were taking a break. But nothing prepared him for the sight that created in front of him.

Bokuto dropped his water bottle, too shocked as he saw his best friend kissing your forehead. You two looks so perfect together, hands intertwined and gazing on each other with loving eyes. It's like the oxygen has been pushed out from his body, he falls to the ground all of a sudden, resulting in your gaze to be fixed on him.

His entire team was now trying to find out what happened to the wing spiker. Your eyes were frantic, afraid that something has happened towards Bokuto. No matter what the circumstances are, you will always care and love him, even if it's not the same kind of love that you had for him a year ago. Akaashi patted your back, trying to make you calm down.

You jolted when you feel the vibration on your pocket, courtesy from your phone. When you look at the contact name, you answered it immediately.

"Could you come here now?!" Miya shouted at the other end of the line, "Fuck, I never saw Bokuto looks like this except from that dark days." You know so well what days that he meant, "Come here fast to the locker room near the stairs, please!"

"I am on my way." You are panicked, trying to say something on Akaashi. But when you turned to look at your fiance, he just grabbed on your arms and caressed it for a while to calmed you down.

"I will wait here, go help Bokuto-san." Hearing that, you composed yourself and nodded. Pecking his cheek before dashing out to the locker room. You found Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shouyou standing in front of the door. Their eyes showing relieve when their gaze falls on you. You nodded at them as they step aside to give you the way.

You opened up the locker room, hearing a painful gasp when you enter. Bokuto curled up on the corner of the room, gasping for air like it's not there. You ran to his side, pulling him to your embrace as you cradling him. Your fingers were stroking his hair that was now become a mess.

"I am here, Bo, I am here. You are not going through everything alone." He didn't talk; he just gasped for air. You didn't know what made him like this, but it hurts your heart so much to see him in so much pain, "Kou," You cooed his name again and again. His arms finally wrapped around you after a while, afraid that you will dissipate into thin air if he let it go.

"Why-" His voice cracked, "S-since when that you and Akaashi..." You bit your lips, now understand what made the man in front of you broke down like this, "I thought you love me." His fist clenched hard on your shirt, "I-I am so sorry, it's because I said that I didn't l-love you, right?" He sobbed, wetting your lap as his head was now lying on your stomach.

"Kou, I am sorry if I hurt you for loving Keiji." He knew he started to act selfishly again, just like what he always does before, "When you didn't love me anymore, I thought I would never love someone again." Bokuto listened to your statement, still sobbing here and there, "But he showed me that I could, Kou. You wish that for me, right?"

"Y-yes." He straightened his body to take a look at you, and that feels like the biggest mistake that he is ever done. There on your ring finger, lay an unfamiliar platinum ring with round cut diamond. For three years, a rose gold coloured ring was adorning there. It reminded him that you were no longer his, and he should remember that, "You two... You two are m-married?"

"No, Kou. Not yet." His golden eyes pierced into your soul. For the past months, he tried to find someone. But he still ended up with an empty bed somehow. He missed the warm that you always radiate every morning, "What is it, Kou? Why you-"

"You will leave me." It was the most painful truth that he ever realised, "Y-You will never have the time to spend with me. Either you or Akaashi, both of you will live happily ever after and I would never be there. I will be forgotten," He didn't tremble like before, but the tears were pouring non-stop, "I need you, (Y/n). I am sorry that I ever said that I didn't love you anymore, I-"

"Kou," You cupped his cheek, gazing at the eyes that were filled with hurt, "I would never leave you. You remember the vow that I gave on our wedding day?" He nodded at this, "I said that I would never stop caring for you, I will always be there for you every step of the way, and I will never stop loving you." Your thumb brushed away his tears carefully, "Just because it's not the same kind of love, doesn't mean that I will stop loving you."

Bokuto bit his lip, restraining the tears that still want to get spilt. He must accept this; it's what he wanted after all. For the past few months, he would lay on his bed, tracing the empty side that never filled with warm anymore. No matter how many women throw themselves for him, he just couldn't do it. Every time he gave someone a chance, something will nag at his heart, telling him that it was all wrong.

By the end of the day, he realised that no one else could love him like you do.

You were no longer belong to him, and he kept saying it inside of his head. He would never get the privilege to taste your love in his life ever again. It will be all poured for Akaashi Keiji. It's Bokuto decision to let you go after all, and maybe, having you there for him is enough.

"Okay." He stood up all of a sudden and pulled you up with him. His hand was now grabbing yours, golden eyes locked to your orbs, "Then look at me, okay?" His face showing the usual grin, "Cheer for me! Tell Akaashi to cheer for me too!" Your eyes were brimming with tears as you saw how much he has grown.

For the first time, you didn't need to tell him what to do. You didn't have to sugarcoat him with something. He just realised it all on his own. Somehow, seeing him like this feels like it was your achievement too.

"We will, Kou." You pulled your hand that was interlocked with him to be in front of your gaze, "So, win this! They all have been waiting for you!" Bokuto nodded, pulling you to his embrace one more time. He kissed the crown of your head before letting go,

"Thank you, for ever loving me." He gave you a grin, then bolted out to the door. Ready to come back to the match. You chuckled by his behaviour, feeling glad that maybe, everything will turn out alright after all. Then you follow his action, running towards the stands so you could see the man that will always have a special place in your heart.

Akaashi waved at you when his eyes finally found you on the entrance, you ran and sat down immediately. You gave the man beside you a long kiss, shocking him as you put your forehead on his for seconds,

"Everything's okay?" He asked you with concern lingering on his voice. You nodded with your eyes still closed, taking his hand in your lap.

"Yes," You gave him one more peck on his lips, "Everything is okay now." He smiled to hear your answer. Both of you were now focused on the game, still holding each other hand.

The commentator announced the come back of Bokuto Koutarou to the game. There he is, standing on the sideline while waiting for the right time to go back to the court. Pride engulfed your heart as you saw him there, looking as serious as ever.

Bokuto fingers fiddling with a rose gold wedding ring that he usually put on his pocket, a token that reminded him of your unconditional love towards himself. When the coach told him to come back inside, he kissed the ring and prayed for the best before tugging it back inside his pocket.

Miya and the others have been waiting for him, glad to see their ace looking like he was back to his prime condition as he strode back inside the court. Bokuto looked at your direction. You were cheering on him while Akaashi gave him a smile and a thumbs up. Satisfied, he gazes back to the court, grinning wild when he remembered the two important people in his life.

Akaashi Keiji becomes his best friend since high school, always looking up for him until today. He was the one who introduces you, the love in his life, to be with him. But fate was always unpredictable as he must let you go, to be with someone who could love you back just like how much you love him, and now, you found it on the black-haired man.

He knows that you will always love him, and he realised that it's alright if it's not the same love as they used to. Because he knew, you poured all of your love to his best friend. Bokuto was all out of love without you, feeling so lost at first. But when you remind him about your vow, he realised that to have you in his life was enough, even if it means you will belong to another person.

It's time for Bokuto to serve, he was silent and walked to the right and left, looked to everyone on the stands then started to clap. You know what is he going to do. So you clapped, as loud as you can. You nudge your fiance to clapped louder, he shook his head at your excitement but following your act at the end.

The entire arena was now clapped for him. It was something that he always loves to do since years ago. He did it because he felt like the world are there for him, and knowing you there clapping too, feels like the entire universe is rooting for his serve. So he threw the ball to the sky and jump, hitting the ball hard to the opponent's court. It was so fast that suddenly the ball has landed perfectly. Bokuto just scores a point.

Everyone was silent, too shocked with how powerful the ace could serve. So you stood and clapped, making a chain of sound to the entire arena. You smiled so wide, tears brimming in your eyes because of how proud you are with him. He grinned and absorbed the energy from all of the spectators, raising both of his hands to the sky.

"HEY HEY HEEYYY!!!"

And maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright after all.

#akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#akaashi angst #akaashi fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto #scenario #angst #fluff #bokuto angst #xreader

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snowdice · 4 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 48]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Ugh I have so many boring things to do today, so have this.

Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

“Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

“I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

“That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

“Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

“That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

“You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

“So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

“Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

“Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

“I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

“We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

“Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

“Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

“You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

“There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

“That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

“Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

“I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

“Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

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Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

“It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

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“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

#proofread stories #not writing

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Healing (pt.1/3)

Yandere Chisaki Kai/Overhaul x quirkless!f!Reader

Part 2︱Part 3

a/n: please do not read this piece if themes of poor mental health are upsetting to you. i am in no way attempting to romanticize these issues, having dealt with them in the past and knowing all too well how serious it is. i have never endorsed the harmful actions of people in my work and never will. please take care of yourselves and read at your own discretion. also this is a repost because it disappeared from the tags for some reason?

warnings: mental health problems, injury

4.2k words

_____

This is for your own good, he said.

The world is a disease ridden place, and remaining in it has left you broken.

You weren’t broken, you were fine. Sure, handling the pressures of simply existing as a result of being born without a quirk were tasking. People had not exactly been kind to you growing up, and that may have affected your health significantly. But you were handling it just fine.

While you couldn’t disagree with the fact that people did seem to enjoy using you, whatever had developed as a result of him discovering this reality wasn’t better in the slightest.

He said you needed time to heal, both physically and mentally. You could trust him, he was the only person who saw how faultless your existence was.

At some point you felt like you deserved to be mistreated by everyone around you, given how common of an occurrence it was. So when the yakuza leader came to you himself, going on about how unfairly you’d been handled all your life, it was hard not to trust him.

Now, you realize just how big of a mistake doing so was.

To be fair, he did live up to his promises. Kai said he wanted to help you heal, and what better way to do that than to move in with him. He had all the necessary equipment, and more than enough money to provide for you during your rehabilitation process.

However, he failed to mention the lengths he was willing to go to ensure your ‘good health’. Thinking you would stay with him until you got better, and then go back to living on your own once any pre existing issues had been taken care of slowly started to become an unattainable dream.

Upon arrival at the yakuza’s base, Kai instructed that it’d be in your best interest to not leave the premises. There was plenty of courtyard space for fresh air, and anything you needed would be picked up for you. Your room had been spacious enough, luxurious almost. Aside from the underground network of facilities, you were permitted to have free range of the base. The only condition was that you kept an escort with you at all times. Generally, these terms didn’t seem too bad.

It wasn’t until you sat down in his office to go through the rest of your new living plan that you realized just how committed he was to seeing your health improve.

Everything was planned to a T. When you’d wake up, take medication, bathe, eat, go to bed. He had taken into account any intolerances or allergies and developed a comprehensive meal program that catered to them. The most important element was the checkups scheduled twice a week to monitor your physical health.

While you didn’t enjoy the idea of being examined so regularly, you couldn’t argue that you’d neglected many problems over your lifetime. Sure, blood tests and vaccine administered supplements weren’t fun. But for the sake of rehabilitation you supposed that it was just another necessary evil.

What was concerning was his policy on electronic devices, specifically for recreational use. According to him, having a phone would only hinder the process, and therefore it wasn’t something you needed.

“Should you require anything you need only to ask either myself or a subordinate. Seeming as you should always have an escort there will be no issue with the matter of not being able to contact anyone.”

Kai truly had everything covered, and with how reassuring he was it became hard to see any flaws in the plan.

And so you took up residence in the leader’s base, grateful for the opportunity to live without being weighed down by society's corrupt expectations.

_____

The first few weeks went fairly smoothly, using the time to learn the layout of the establishment. Not that you could ever get lost, with one of his subordinates trailing you in case you required assistance. You quite enjoyed the company of Chisaki’s underlings, along with that of the man himself.

Every day you’d spend time in the courtyard, or go for a walk along the path against the inside edges of the base. Oftentimes Kurono would accompany you, and the two of you would make small talk over menial subjects. Later on you’d return to Kai’s office where you’d sit on the sofa positioned to the side of the room, reading a novel he’d selected while he worked at his desk.

Generally, your experience went fairly smoothly. The distance you’d put between yourself and the reality outside those tall concrete walls had done a lot of good. However, not everything can be solved with simply removing yourself entirely from a bad situation.

Although your living quarters were comfortable and welcoming, there was something unfamiliar about it that was off putting. To combat this, you decided a quick trip home to pick up a few belongings couldn’t hurt.

It’d only taken you roughly twenty-five minutes to travel back on foot to your small, cheap little single floor house on the edge of town. Another ten to gather some items, and then you walked back to the base. However, upon returning you’d come to understand how badly you’d messed up.

It was early in the morning before you’d left, and there were no examinations scheduled either. Not wanting to bother anyone with your needs, you had left the base alone without notifying Chisaki.

That was your first mistake.

He was waiting for you at the front entrance, arms crossed with an aggravated look on his face, although it was hard to read given the mask hiding a good half of his facial features. But if that didn’t give away his anger, then the death grip he placed on your forearm as he dragged you to your designated bedroom did.

He practically threw you inside the room, slamming the doors behind him. He only took a second to compose himself before speaking. “I thought I made it very clear that you were not to leave the premises, let alone by yourself.”

You knew Chisaki was quite the stern man, seeing first hand once or twice with how he treated his subordinates. But this was new, he’d never gotten mad at you, let alone get physically aggressive.

“I didn’t think it’d be a big deal, I was just grabbing some things to make my room a little more comfortable.”

“Did I not tell you that whatever you needed would be picked up for you?”

His demeanour suggested that the question was not rhetorical. “You did, I know. I just didn’t want to bother Kurono or anyone else to go with me so early.”

Something about your open concern for others seemed to pacify his rage, letting out a sigh before moving to sit on the short couch next to him. Leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees, Kai responded. “Staying inside the base is a crucial part to your healing, I can’t let you leave knowing the danger you’d be putting yourself in without protection. You should refrain from doing something so reckless moving forward.”

You moved from your standing position to sit down next to him, of course keeping a respectable distance knowing his abhorrence to bacteria, and generally people as well. “I’m sorry for making you worry, I was just a bit homesick is all.”

The yakuza turned his head to look at you, brows furrowed in a somewhat inquisitive manner. His amber eyes pierced through yours, seemingly searching for answers to questions that couldn’t be asked. “I hope you’re aware of how important someone like yourself is to my cause. Those without quirks are growing increasingly rare, and it’s causing more issues than the world can keep up with.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “I believe it goes without saying that I’d be deeply upset if anything were to happen to you. Normally I couldn’t be bothered with such a thing… but you’re the exception.”

Chisaki stood up and walked toward the bedroom door before facing you again. “Take a bath and then return to my office with your book. Kurono will be waiting outside your door to escort you.”

You watched him leave the room, waiting for the door to completely shut before letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding all this time.

Whatever that was, you never wanted to encounter it again. Maybe, you thought, I’d be better off getting out of here sooner rather than later.

_____

After the first incident occurred you presumed things would return to normal, but of course that would be too convenient. It seemed that there was now a slight increase in security around the base. The development was immediate, making it hard to miss. Any exits leading outside―those literally outside, say to the courtyard―and gates to exit the compound were guarded by one of Chisaki’s underlings.

On top of that, he had one of his men stationed outside your bedroom 24/7, whether you needed an escort or not. He never bothered to notify you of this change in particular. It only came to your attention after hearing the verbal exchange of two men outside your door, doing what you assumed was rotating shifts.

It was unnerving, to say the least. The incident had been minor as far as you perceived it, but the unspoken changes around you demonstrated otherwise.

Aside from that, you thankfully regarded the steady improvement to your health. Your energy had returned significantly, likely thanks to the mandatory eight hours of sleep. The daily walks had eliminated the general weakness and lack of stamina you experienced. Even your face took on a warm glow, eye-bags almost non existent and blemishes quickly fading.

It would seem that your departure from this temporary rehabilitation would come sooner than you expected.

Yet the more your condition improved, the stricter Kai became with your routine. Not only that, but he also seemed to be growing more comfortable having you near him.

Now, with any normal person this familiarness would only be expected. But you knew better, and a voice deep in the back of your mind was telling you that this new predicament wouldn’t end well.

_____

The next incident seemed to be the thing that set him off, solidifying your future.

It had been roughly a month and a half since you accepted being cared for at the yakuza’s compound. By now the problems which put you in this situation were almost entirely taken care of, but that didn’t stop Kai from enforcing his rules more than ever.

Frankly, the repetitive, unwavering routine you’d been following was starting to create its own problems within your health―you were going a bit stir crazy.

After the last warning, you’d be lying if you said the main thing keeping you from leaving was fear for how Chisaki would react. Now however, it’d been too long since you experienced the real world, and even if it was only for an hour, you desperately needed to go outside the walls of the compound.

You took the issue to Kai during the time you spent reading in his office. He was going to have to let you do this, staying cooped up any longer wouldn’t be good for you and even he couldn’t ignore that reality.

After what felt like an endless back and forth discussion, seemingly getting nowhere on either side, you started to believe that he really didn’t think the situation was an actual problem.

But you knew he had a soft spot for you, and eventually the man did cave to your request.

Accompanied by one of his more trusted subordinates, you were allowed to leave the base for two hours. You took this much appreciated freedom to do some window shopping here and there, at one point stopping to buy latte―of course not before fighting with your escort over how Kai would disapprove of you doing so, the caffeine apparently being bad for you.

You were nearing the end of your time limit, and still you remained unsatisfied with what felt like an all too brief reintroduction to society.

Pushing your luck, you headed to the center of the downtown area, hoping the bustling life and bright colours would be enough to satiate your need for external stimulation.

Before you had left the compound that day, Kai had stopped you for a moment at the front entrance. The statement was quick―he advised you to stay out of any heavy populated areas. According to him it posed too high of a risk to your safety, and you should heed his words if you knew what was good for you.

However, now that you were out and getting a taste of everything you didn’t even realize you were missing, those warnings were the last thing to concern you. Oh, how foolish you were to even believe there was nothing wrong with going against him for a second.

You heard the destruction before you felt it. The cause of it was unidentifiable, as before you could steal a glance from the source of exploding brick and concrete next to you, an unseen force sent you flying across the pavement and out onto the road. Thankfully traffic immediately came to a halt once onlookers realized the situation, effectively preventing you from being run over. But that did little to console you as painfully, you comprehended your now significantly injured state.

Giving your body a once over, it was clear that the force that threw you away from the building was from the blast of air pressure likely due to an explosion. The damages weren’t too severe, but you were still now sporting a throbbing headache, and what appeared to be a sprained ankle. Aside from that, only developing bruises remained as evidence of the violent event as far as you could tell in your shock induced state.

Understanding you had to get yourself away from the violent, still ongoing conflict, you feebly attempted to stand up. It was a good effort, and if it weren’t for the head injury that was proving to be much more serious, you most likely would’ve been able to get away.

But luck was never on your side to begin with, and only a few seconds went by before black spots appeared in front of your vision. A moment later and you were out cold.

_____

A hospital room was what you expected, what anyone would expect after being nearly blown to pieces.

Pulling yourself out of unconsciousness to assess exactly where you were was a trying task, but the fear growing in the pit of your stomach served as more than enough motivation.

You remembered being downtown. An explosion. Pain. Then darkness. Taking in your surroundings, you identified the room to be that which you sat through examination after examination in the yakuza’s base.

But Kai was nowhere to be seen, and that only made the feeling of distress worse.

You had no idea how you got there, figuring the likely outcome would be you in the care of an actual doctor. Except that wasn’t the case, and instead you were laying on a bed, wearing clothing that you did not have on before blacking out.

It appeared to be a fairly loose but comfortable sleeveless knee length dress, with a long sleeve sweater overtop of it, both shaded with a pale light blue. In the midst of examining your new outfit, your eyes laid upon a heart monitoring device lightly clipped to your index finger.

Amidst the sudden realization of your current predicament, you failed to notice the steady increase in your heartbeat. But Kai hadn’t.

At that moment one of the two doors of the room, the other attached to a bathroom, swiftly opened. Chisaki stood in the doorway for a moment, seemingly evaluating your now awakened form for a moment before entering, closing the door behind him.

You questioned him before he even had the chance to come near you. “What the hell am I doing here? Why aren’t I in a hospital?” He approached you as you spoke, taking a seat on a wheeled stool next to your bed.

Unfortunately you couldn’t control the shaking in your voice, and it served as a clear indication to the man at just how uneasy you’d grown with the situation.

“My subordinate alerted me of the attack after he found you unconscious. You were brought back here amidst the fighting so I could tend to your injuries, which fortunately are not life threatening.” He spoke in a calm and consistent tone, pausing momentarily before continuing. “There was no need to bring you to a hospital when I’m more than capable of taking care of you.”

Not life threatening? You looked over your body, assessing the damage for yourself. It appeared that you had injured your ankle, as it was now wrapped in some form of brace. Along with that were bandages woven around your knees, and more that you could feel constricting your upper arms where you landed on. Lastly was the dull pain in the back of your head, bringing you back to the moments before blacking out when you experienced a similar sensation.

“I think I should still go see a professional, no offense of course. It’s just I’d feel more comfortable with an expert opinion on the whole thing.” You truly didn’t want to set him off, not after what happened the last time you went against his advice. However, this was not something you could just take lying down, despite the fact that you were literally lying down in bed at the moment.

“I’m going to have to insist that you remain here, it’s the best option for your recovery which may I remind you has not been completed as of yet, and will only be delayed due to this. Not to mention that in your state excessive movement to bring you to a hospital would not only be quite difficult to manage but further damaging to your body as well.”

If it weren’t for the unsettling, stone cold stare he was giving you as he spoke, you would’ve likely retorted with a defense. Yet under that gaze you felt it was impossible to remain strong willed. You’d let him have his way for now, there being only so much time remaining in which his care was necessary.

With that you agreed to his concerns, and perhaps if he wasn’t wearing that obnoxiously large mask you would’ve seen the smirk of satisfaction appear across his face.

_____

Later that day Kai returned with your dinner, a task he normally left for his subordinates to complete. He set down the tray atop the sliding overbed table, a clipboard in his other hand. Sitting down on the rolling stool next to your bed, he began talking, you listening in silence as you ate.

“I hope you don’t mind but I took a blood sample while you were asleep in case your injuries were more severe than outwardly observable.” He flipped through a few pages on the clipboard before continuing. “It would seem that the supplements are steadily improving your overall condition. It’ll still take some time for certain levels to reach a normal amount for someone of your physique, but this is still good news nonetheless.”

You hummed in response, not wanting to be rude by talking with your mouth full. Chisaki moved to place the clipboard on the counter to your left before facing you again.

“I’m sure by now you’ve taken note of the change in your attire from that prior to being injured.”

You stopped chewing, looking worriedly in his direction. You hadn’t forgotten about this reality, it was more like you chose to ignore it for the time being, hoping nothing would come of it between the two of you.

“You should know that I had one of my female underlings do this for me, the fact of the matter being your clothing was partially destroyed from the explosion and was therefore prohibiting necessary medical attention.”

The pulsing of your heartbeat quickened, having an idea of where this conversation was headed, much to your apprehension. You stared down at the meal in front of you to avoid eye contact at all costs.

“I was able to properly tend to your wounds, but I’m sure you understand when I say that I couldn’t help but notice certain… remnants. Those of past trauma, along with others I didn’t directly observe, those that my subordinate notified me of.”

It was obvious that to access the bruises and cuts sustained from being thrown across the pavement, Chisaki would inevitably see parts of your body that you were all too familiar with just a few years ago.

Things had gotten better since then, they really had. You would never even think about using those same coping methods anymore. But that didn’t change the fact that those memories weren’t something that could just fade overnight, nor would the physical damage they left behind.

It was the last thing you wanted to discuss with Kai right now. He already knew, albeit vaguely, that you used to struggle with your mental health. Not that you weren’t still struggling, it was just now you had healthier ways of handling it. The only thing you could do now was deter him from pressing you further on the matter.

“Listen Kai, I know what you’re referring to, and I understand why you’d be concerned. It’s just… you don’t need to bother with it. I’m better now, at least in that regard. I get that you want to help me, and you have, but this isn’t something you need to worry about. I’ve already taken care of it, I promise.”

Glancing up at him after finishing, you saw more emotion than you’d ever thought someone like himself would be capable of. Although to most it would be insignificant, his intense stare coupled with the furrowed eyebrows, looking as if he truly wanted to comfort you in that moment was reassuring.

He exhaled loudly before responding. “That’s fine, (y/n).” You watched as he removed those white gloves that he seemed to wear like a second skin, placing them on the counter. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you during that time. Someone like you should have never been subjected to such treatment, and if I had known you back then I would’ve made sure such an occurrence never took place to begin with.”

Now this was… jarringly out of character.

If there was ever a red flag that you missed before, the ensuing events would surely be enough to make it blatantly obvious what exactly was going on.

Wide-eyed and dinner long forgotten, you followed the movement of his hands as they went to gently hold that of your left.

The yakuza waited for what felt like an eternity before carrying on, doing what you could only assume was anticipating the disgust of coming into contact in such a way with you, absent of his constant protective articles.

But the aversion never came.

“All I can do now is ensure you’re never dealt the same treatment again.”

Another moment of silence, stillness.

He gave your hand a small squeeze before releasing his hold, standing up and retrieving his gloves. You were too dumbfounded by the events that just unfolded to respond, so you continued to sit in silence while Kai gathered his belongings.

“Finish your dinner, Kurono will come later and turn off the heart monitor for you to get ready for bed.” He finished pulling on the gloves, picking up the clipboard once he was done and headed towards the only exit of the room.

“You’ll be remaining in this room while your injuries heal. I’ll keep one of my men posted outside if you need anything.” Kai placed a hand on the doorknob, pausing before looking back in your direction.

“Also, you should know that an alarm will go off if you remove the heart monitoring clip on your finger. There’s a button on the side of the bed you can press if you need assistance turning the machine off, say if you need to get up. Otherwise please leave it as it is.”

At that moment he left the examination room, the door closing with a heavy metallic thud that reverberated off the walls.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach was subtle, almost overshadowed by the persisting hunger from abandoning your dinner. But you knew it well to be fear.

A fear that you only suspected would grow the longer you remained in the confines of Chisaki’s compound, the confines of his so-called ‘care.’

(End of Part 1)

#yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere overhaul #yandere bnha x reader #yandere overhaul x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere chisaki kai #yandere chisaki kai x reader #tw self harm

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ninnodesu · 4 years

Text

The New Matriarch, ch 3.

Tw: - Mentions of sexual abuse/rape - Memories of sexual abuse/rape

Thomas B. Hewitt.

“Mama!”, Charlie’s voice rings out in the giant house. “Mama, where you at? We need your help here!”.

On his way in Thomas shoos some piglets away with his foot as he walks into one of the seating areas where an empty couch sat before putting the strange woman down on it, careful as to not wake her up. “What are you yellin’ about, Charlie?”, their mother walks in but stops dead in her tracks when Thomas turns to her and reveals the sleeping woman on the couch. “Oh my goodness!”, she rushes over to the couch and gently puts her hand on the sleeping girl’s forehead, almost shoving Thomas out of the way making him wobble slightly as he’s caught off guard at his mother’s sudden actions.

“Who’s this?”, her eyes darted between the men standing there dumbfounded. Thomas just shrugs, brows knitting together while looking at her sleeping face before he remembers that she screamed and gripped her shoulder before he carried her in. He kneels next to her head and slowly lifts her up to look for a wound. When he finds it, he nudges his mother and grunts towards it.

“She’s hurt! Charlie, make yourself useful and go grab a towel and some water, boy.” She turns to Thomas. “And you, go grab your sewing supplies! This looks like it needs stitches.”

He nods and gets up, quickly walking over to his corner of the downstairs area where his sewing machine and sewing whatnots is housed. He works in silence, completely zoned out and deep in concentration, his family’s voices but a blurred sound. He fish the bullet out, which he just throws into some dark corner of the room and proceeds to stitch the wound up. Sure, his fingers are massive - like the rest of him - but his touch is delicate, his stitching is neat and thorough. He’s always like working with his hands, it was probably just by chance that he happened to be good at sewing.

That night he decides to keep a close eye on her, moving one of the lounge chairs over to sit in her vicinity. Sleeping people are easier to interact with, he doesn’t have to do much close to them. It’s the awake ones he - usually - has a problem with, except for when this one came running to him.

Usually, people tend to walk away from him, not run towards him. Not cling to his legs, not shaking and hiding behind him. They hide from him. He’s the problem most of the time, not some kind of… savior. He reclines in the chair, leaning his head back, tilting it slightly.

Who are you?

“So.”, Thomas jumps as he hears Charlie's voice at the door. “You’re just gonna’ be a creep and watch’er, aint ya?”, Charlie chuckles as he leans on the door frame. “Never thought ya’ was gonna’ be a creeper, Tommy”, he clicks his tongue before giving one of his crooked sneers..

Thomas rolls his head towards Charlie and just glares at him until he leaves to the porch, probably to drink and harass their uncle, then he just grunts in annoyance and rolls his head back towards the girl.

I’m just keeping an eye on her, ya dumbass. Again, he snorts at his own joke. At least I think I’m hilarious.

As he sits there, having his own inner conversations with himself about nothing in particular, his thoughts start to wander. Thoughts about how she didn’t recognize him, everyone around these parts knows him. He’s the monster , the big nasty man, the diseased freak . But she didn’t care, she clung to him. Like she would float out to sea if she let go of him. Thinking back to earlier, his heart flutters oh so slightly.

Why…?

A huff later and he’s kicked his boots off and laid his feet up on the couch the girl is sleeping on, a long quiet and tired moan escapes his lips as he just slides down the lounge chair. Crossing his arms he leans his head down on his shoulder and just watches her. Watching her relaxed face, tracing the shape of her nose, her slightly parted lips and the way her messy hair falls over her neck. She looks peaceful, the way her chest rises and falls in a calm rhythmic way. It’s when he lazily watches the movement of her chest he feels his own eyes start to feel heavy.

One loud snore is all it takes for him to wake himself up with a jolt which makes one of his heavy feet to slip off the couch and slam onto the floor with a loud thud , he slowly pushes himself up in the seat as he’s laying more on the floor than across his chair and the couch at this point.

Shit…, he stills as he sees her stir a bit on the couch, small sleeping mumbled words escaping as she turns to the side, he lets a breath out that he’d been holding and hangs his head.

Don’t wake up, please, don’t wake up…, he’s suddenly really afraid that she will. Every shred of bravery after what happened at the barn went out the window the moment he got left alone with her. Outside, it’s pitch black.

Must be late. His eyes start searching the room for the clock. 1:45 AM. Even if he’s really tired, even if his work is most likely going to suffer the next day and even if he’s starting to feel nervous about a stranger in his home, he’s determined to stay up to make sure she doesn’t wake up alone. He’s woken up alone and scared too many times through his teenage years, especially when his nose started to fall apart. And even if he doesn’t know her or even as little as just her name, he doesn’t want her to experience the same fear he did.

I need air, I need something to keep awake. His knees crack slightly as he decides to sneak out on the porch, he glances at his boots but decides to ditch them.

The screen door squeaks lightly as he steps out to plant himself on one of the benches, the board bending at his weight. He leans back and sprawls his legs out in front of him, letting his hands flop down on his thighs.

What have you gotten yourself into, Tommy? You know this was a stupid idea. He sighs and rubs his hands over his masked face. You can’t talk to her, and even if you could, she would just run at the sight of you. Besides, there's barely any food as is. Closing his eyes, he decides to just enjoy the silence and occasional chirp of a grasshopper or fox screaming somewhere in the forest before he has to prepare for work.

He’s awoken just as the sun rises by his mother tapping him on the shoulder. “Tommy, ya' can’t be sleepin' on the porch like that. Come on.” He just nods and follows her inside. “Ya' need to put 'er in a bed”, she orders him motioning to the sleeping girl.

Thomas looks at his mother and raises an eyebrow. A bed? We have extra beds?

Almost as she is - actually - able to read his mind, she shakes her head and turns to show him. “Come on, pick 'er up and I’ll show ya'.”, he looks over at the girl and hesitates at first, fingers twitching nervously. “Thomas Brown Hewitt.”, he flinches. He knows she’s serious when she uses his full name and he nods again.

On the second floor his mama unlocks one of the doors that opens up to a small bedroom, or… a big closet, he’s not entirely sure how to categorize it, but it has a bed, a mirror and a small dresser, although the dresser looks more or less like fire wood. He’s seen the door, sure, but honestly never really bothered much since he’s spent more or less all his life in either his room or in the basement.

He grunts and nods towards the bedroom with a raised eyebrow.

In here?, and continue in when his mother nods.

“I made the bed after I saw you fell asleep watchin’ her.” she whispers while pulling the covers off the bed so he can put her on it. “But,ya' need to head off to the slaughterhouse, and she needs sleep.” He looks between his mama and the girl with a frown. “Tommy, you can’t be at home watchin’ this little lady when you have work to do.”, she tells him with her stern motherly voice before turning to leave.

“Besides…”, he looks at her and raises his eyebrow, asking the obvious non-verbal question.

Besides what?

“We need extra if we gonna’ look after ‘er for a while.”, the answer is simple, on point. But has something to it. He hears it, but doesn't follow what she means. So he nodded, and let out a small “Mmh.”

Just before he closes the door he catches one last look at her while his mother has her back turned, brows furrowing when he feels a slight tinge of worry pick in his stomach.

I’ll be back later, I promise.

The door clicks shut and he heads downstairs, pulls his boots on and with a heaving sigh sets off to the place he both likes - and dislikes - at the same time.

The slaughterhouse.

As the giant building comes into view his mood becomes worse and worse. His chest shrinks, shoulders tense and his hands fists at his sides. He never really liked being here, not fully, only reasons for going being his family, and it’s a good place to let off some steam. But it’s also the place where the majority of his school yard bullies followed him. Even here he had to hear their voices behind his back, and all he wanted when he did was to go home and shut himself in his room. Or basement. Wherever he could hide from the world. Inside, it’s empty. He’s always the first one to enter and last one to leave, the hardest worker of them all, and probably the only thing in his entire life he actually took pride in. The fact that he was a hard worker. But they don’t care, no one ever truly does. Well, except his family of course.

He scratches his neck before putting his apron on and readjust his mask before he heads off to his little corner of the butcher floor. I was right, I am sore as all hell today. , he thinks while rolling his shoulders trying to wake tired and sore muscles up. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep on the porch… , he grunts and snarls at his poor choice of sleeping place.

The day goes by at a snail's pace. Countless jokes and laughing directed at him. Snears and hard dunks at his back as an awful attempt at “We’re just messing with you, big man. Relax, jeez” as they continue using him as some kind of comic relief. He hates it when they comment on his build. When he hears them call him “big” or anything relating to his height. When they say it, it never comes from a place of admiration, or as something positive. It’s only meant to ridicule him. He knows he’s huge, a monster. He’s heard it before, all his life.

I'm nothing more than an… an animal.

He’s also fully aware of his own strength. He can break these people's bones with his hands if he wants to. And by god, did he want to at times. Some days he wanted nothing more than to squeeze the next hand that dunked his back until he heard and felt it crack under his fingers. But he never does. He has way too much to lose to mess with people at work.

When he finally arrives home, the house is empty. Charlie and his mother might still be out, possibly off to try and sell some stuff she found after he cleared the barn, before… she showed up. He’s angry, balancing dangerously close to furious and his footsteps are loud.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. That one creaky step on the stairs scream when his angry foot lands on it. This time, he’s fairly certain a huge part of it got loose in the crawl space underneath. Finally reaching his room, he slams his door shut, momentarily forgetting about the sleeping stranger down the hall, the slam being hard enough to elicit a cracking sound, that crack is all he needs to cross the line between angry and furious. He looks back to make sure he didn’t break another thing due to his strength, before pacing back and forth trying to calm himself down.

Just… Leave me ALONE!, he growls as he fists his hands and gently smacks his head to try and silent every and any bad thought that flows his mind. His chest is heaving.

I just want to do my goddamn WORK, you ASSHOLES! In one swift motion he sweeps his arms across his desk to throw every trinket that rests on it down on the floor to try and sate his rage.

It doesn’t take long after the poor subjects of his rage have quiet down in their rolling and clinking, him just standing there, his mask amplifying his breathing, before the sound of a door opening reaches his ears.

Ssh… it., is all he manages to think when he freezes. And she is slowly inched back into his memories, his eyes widening when he realizes one simple thing. I woke her.

He just stares at his own door, eyes wide in horror as if she was some kind of vicious predator coming to end his own life. Not even sure what to do when he hears a small voice ring out.

“H...ello?”

You

You wake with a jolt after hearing a loud slam somewhere. Your head hurts, your shoulder hurts and you have this creeping ache in your stomach that tells you; You. Are. Starving. “Ow…”, you rub your temple before rubbing your eyes awake. Looking around, you’re in a room. On a bed . At first, you’re scared again. This isn’t the Box, where are you? What was that sound? What room is this? Your mind is blank.

“Where am I?”, you shock yourself a bit when you actually clearly hear your own voice, almost as if you’ve forgotten what it sounded like. Someone had given you water. Your captors did let you drink, but only when you’ve been good enough for them. Only when they decided you had earned a reward. After sitting up for a few minutes just looking around the strange room, you decide to try and stand up on your aching legs.

You groan as you stand, your legs are wobbly and you have to support yourself on the nearest wall to regain your balance. Jesus. My legs are so sore, and my feet hurt. You take an experimental step and despite the soreness you manage to keep your weight up. As you shuffle your way around the small room you see a mirror, a dirty and grimy one, but a mirror nonetheless. Stepping up to it and cleaning it to the best of your abilities with your own half-dirty hand, you’re not sure how to react when you see yourself. You can’t fully remember the last time you saw your own reflection clearly like this.

Your hair is long, dirty, full of knots and a murkier version of your natural hair. Your eyes were still slightly swollen, and puffy, the color of them a contrast to the red. You were still wearing that makeshift “dress” made of scraps of several potato sacks. A horrible attempt at covering yourself up during nights when the Box was cold. Over your shoulder and down around your chest you see something graying white with specks of dried crimson and you tilt your head in curiosity.

“Is that… a bandage?”, you pull your dress down to look at the strange piece of fabric wrapped tightly, but somewhat sloppy, around your shoulder more clearly. “Who did this?”

Suddenly, the sound of several small objects flying across the floor reaches your ears, and you jump. Then, silence falls again.

You pull the dress pack in place and turn towards the door in fear, your body tenses and your breathing becomes heavier as all you do is wait for it to burst open. Your mind gets ready for a new awful hour of being rented out like some kind of object, something to be used and then forgotten about in the Box. Even if you can’t fully remember what has happened, your mind only gives you glimpses of you running, looking down the barrel of a gun and… and… a man, you can still feel a creeping anxiety in the pit of your stomach, your nerves are still on alert mode. But nothing happens, no one is coming to drag you away. There’s no voices calling out to that “stupid bitch”, there’s nothing but silence.

After what feels like hours you decide to make a move and start shuffling towards the door. Only dragging your feet in fear that the floor might creak loudly and announce your present to people. You’re scared, but you still want to try the door.

If I’m not tied down, the door has to be locked. But it’s not. The door is unlocked, and you’re not tied down.

Outside, it’s still. The only sound being a small rhythmic tapping sound coming from downstairs. You sneak out as silent as a cat would when sneaking on a prey.

“H...ello?”, you try. No reply. All you can see looking down the hallway are closed doors. Looking around the empty, silent hallway you sneak out, curiosity picking in your mind. You don’t recognise this house, it doesn’t look like any house you’ve been in when you were rented out. It doesn’t have the same lingering feeling of dread or force. It feels… homely.

Going down the hallway you notice pictures on one of the bookshelves and you stop in front of them to look, to try and piece something together as to who lives here. One photograph catches your eyes and you pick it up, examining it further. It’s a picture of a young boy in a striped t-shirt. His hair is dark but his face is covered up by a pair of older hands.

Why would you cover a small kid’s face like that?, you think and shake your head as you put it back.

Shuffling away from the bookshelf you creep towards the stairs, the steps are cool under your feet, in contrast to the warm rug laid out on the second floor. You wince when you accidentally step a bit harsh on one of your wounds. One step creaks loudly and your heart jumps thinking it’ll break, unbeknownst to you how it manages to hold the weight of a 200 lb behemoth of a man and won’t break under your feather light steps.

Just the same as the top floor, the main floor is empty. Only living things here are the piglets, and even those are sleeping in random places around the living room, gentle snoring coming from them. A sound you can’t help but to giggle at.

You’re not entirely sure what to do. You seem to be completely alone in this huge house. Your stomach starts cramping and rumbles again.

I hope they don’t mind if I borrow some food, you think to yourself as you make your way around the house, trying to find the kitchen. What strikes you first is a smell. A smell of uncleanliness. It’s filthy, dirt everywhere. Mason Jars caked with either dust or moldy food. The fridge is just as gross as the rest of the kitchen, smell even worse in that, and it’s mostly empty.

You sigh. “I guess they don’t own much”, you mumble to, as far as you’re concerned, no one at all and close the fridge to proceed to just… stand there. Alone, in a strange family’s kitchen.

Thomas B. Hewitt.

Footsteps. They’re low, but years of bullying has made him hyper aware and vigilant to any and all noises, and he recognizes how the floorboards creak when someone steps on them. He’s learned the pattern

What should I do?, he doesn’t know how to handle strange people. Strangers make him nervous and it’s not like he can knock her out again to make her go back to sleep so he can function. Out of nervous habit he raises his hands and starts fiddling with his fingers, staying put like an unmovable statue. Him, the behemoth they call Tommy, a nervous wreck when faced with a stranger, and a stranger in his home, where he’s supposed the one in charge. He just stands there, listening and following her footsteps and trying to figure out where in the hallway she currently is, waiting for the perfect moment to step out of his bedroom. He can’t stay there forever just because she’s awake, he has to face her at some point. With or without his mama’s help.

His breath hitches slightly when he notices that she’s stopped.

She’s outside…

A minute or two passes, and then he hears that awful cracking sound of that one step on the stairs, and he lets out a shaky breathe when he realizes She’s going downstairs, and Charlie’s not home . A small but noticeable wave of relief rolls over him. If Charlie would’ve been home she would’ve most likely been bombarded with questions and words and god knows what. Maybe even worse things than that if he had been drinking.

It’s only when he can’t hear her footsteps anymore that he manages to sneak his door open and peek outside, hallway empty, but he hears a faint giggle coming from downstairs. He surprises himself with how silent he’s actually being when snaking his way towards the dreaded stairs.

Really, Thomas. It’s a person, not a wild animal, his body and mind fighting in a fierce battle. I just wish mama was home, how am I going to talk to her?

He’s mindful to skip that crackling step at the stairs and keeps onward down. He’s like a shadow floating through his house. Stopping suddenly as he sees her swiftly walk pass him on the main floor. His eyes widen, lips pressed into a thin line, sucking in air into his lungs and lets it rest there, too nervous to let it out until he hears the fridge door open. Then, and only then does he continue down the stars.

In a corner, shrouded by darkness, he stops and stares at her back as she looks into the fridge, his heart drums in his chest. A rapid melody of du-dumdu-dumdu-dumdu-dum… He’s too used to getting ridiculed, and now when she’s awake, and doesn’t seem as frightened and desperate as she did in the barn, his mind races back to everyone else. To everyone in school, or when they’ve seen him when he’s been at the gas station helping his mother. They all just screamed, some even letting out high pitch screeching when they’ve seen him alone by accident. His self image is only made out of broken pieces at this point. Just the sheer fact that he didn’t run into the house when she first came into the barn is a surprise to himself. But now? Now she’s scary.

“I guess they don’t own much”, her voice is sweet now when he hears it clearly, and he tilts his head to the side. Her voice is both warm and smooth. It flows into his ears like honey.

Now I really do feel like a creep…

He keeps standing in the shadows watching her, his eyes dancing over her form. Her hair now resting on her back, with one part falling over her shoulder. A brief thought of how it would feel to brush that part of hair behind her ear flashes by in his mind and he shakes his head as he feels his cheeks heat up.

After closing the fridge door she just… stands there. Looking around, looking lost.

And Thomas? He does the same. Nervous and anxious, hands raised to his midsection to fiddle with his fingers, head hung low and stray hairs falling in front his eyes. He feels as lost as she looks until one of the small piglets running straight into one of his legs elicits a squeal, Thomas grunts slightly and stomps lightly at the floor to scare the piglet away.

Nice going, pig…, after looking at the pig running away in fear he looks up and is met by a pair of surprised eyes looking at him.

“It’s you! ”, he flinches at how she punctuates “you” and his eyes panic like he doesn’t know where to look, his lips becoming a thin line again, his heart beating like a rapid drum and he begins to breathe heavily, making his hands shake and fingers twitch.

No... He panics and turns to leave, heavy boots sounding out through the hallway, with wide steps he aims for the basement.

“Wait!”, her voice rings out again, that smooth velvety honey hits him, but he just ignores it. He can’t. His brain tells him that she’s just like everyone else. Just like the people in the slaughterhouse, just like the people in town, or at his mama’s store, just like his classmates during recess. She’s no different. When she sees him properly, she’ll scream. And realize what a horrible mistake she made by turning to him for help.

She’s just like everyone else.

#The New Matriarch #TNM #thomas hewitt #thomas #thomas leatherface hewitt #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction #slasher

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