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ncitygirls · 3 years

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belong - chan x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.8k

when your lover called on you, the bells in your heart rung. chan invited you to his home for an evening spent together in the sweet peace of the one another’s company. upon your arrival, he greeted you with pure admiration in his eyes, a youthful wonderment sweeping over him as he gazed upon your person, pulling you into his embrace where you belong.

he took your hand, dusting his lips across your knuckles as he whispered, “i missed you, love.”

“and i you.” it’s not often you admit that time spent away from chan adds painfully to your longing, this much is evidenced by his wide eyed surprise. “i have spent every second counting down until we would meet again.”

“oh?” he gasps, believing not a word. “maybe hypnos might finally stop by now that you have come.”

“maybe breath will finally enter my lungs! and food settle in my stomach!”

“my love, if we are of such detriment to ourselves when apart,” he mumbles against your lips as he captures them sweetly. “then perhaps we mustn’t part again.”

“not ever?”

“not ever,” and so, with your indefinite union confirmed, chan ushers you into his home. you quickly note the sheet music that customarily garnishes every corner of the black oak table is now stacked neatly to the side. in their place are gold lined porcelain dinner plates, and sat atop them are a meal you know your lover did not prepare. “i know what you are readying yourself to say, so i feel i must confess something.”

“please do.”

“the lees did assist me with the preparation of this meal,” he lies as you turn to him. “you do not believe me? my love, i take great offence.”

“one can only find offence in the truth, chan.”

“fine,” he sighs, kindly untucking your seat. “the lees prepared the meal.” his confession is rewarded with the softest kiss to his dimpled cheek, deepening the indent greatly. “but i did prepare the table!”

“and had you not, the meal would not look half as inviting,” your praise, though clearly meant in jest, still colours the tips of his ears.

“lest you plan for my head to swell to twice its size, i suggest you stop.”

you press your hand to his cheek, the soft skin warming your palm as you turn his face towards you. “surely that is just more of you to love, is it not?”

“goodness. u are like a god sent spring during drought! love just pours from you. surely i am not this worthy,” he ponders aloud. he rests his forehead on yours, settling his eyes on your lips, he trains his pounding heart to beat in time with your breathless chortles. “what did I do to deserve you?”

as you shrug, you lean up, capturing his lips with yours, offering up the most delicate of pecks. the motion is dizzying, and the pace moreso. his fingers grip your side almost painfully, his wandering thumb finding the skin of your hip, drawing the tiniest circles. your tongue finally slips between his teeth before he pulls away. “the lees would not be happy to learn how we have treated their meal.”

“that you plated,” you remind, squeezing his arms in want. “and a plated meal can be reheated. hell, a plated meal can be unplated!”

“is this a want or a need?” chan suddenly asks, watching your teeth catch your lip. raising his thumb once dragging along the band of your knickers, he tugs at the trapped lip, freeing it from restraint. “i asked you a question.”

“it’s a want,” you admit shamefully, your hunger amplified with another whiff of the cooling dinner.

“a want can wait.” without another word, chan releases you, waiting patiently so he can tuck your seat in. once you are seated, he tucks himself in at the table’s head, reaching for your hand to his right. “go ahead, angel.”

you can only nod as you reach for your polished fork before scooping up the braised pork and buttered mash. he grins as you moan, the sound oddly innocent as you slowly begin to regain your appetite. he frees your hand as you reach for your knife, settling it instead on your knee, squeezing before he attacks his meal. as you make your own ways through dinner, you settle into a comfortable silence, both happily welcoming any intermittent interruptions. he speaks in part of his long work week spent apart from you, you speak in part of the gruelling work week spent apart from him. you both speak of family, sharing thoughtless yet meaningful tidings. you speak of friends, of gossip and news as he updates you on the lees’ plans to finally go into business together.

“how does hyunjin feel about it? he, minho and felix, were they not in talks about a dance company?” you speak with your lips perched on the rim of your glass, never forgetting a detail chan offers up. and though this at times works to his detriment, he cannot help but smile as he nods, gleeful at your continued interest in his companions.

“hyunjin wishes them well. of course he sulked for days, but he sees their passion and respects their wishes.” chan watches as you nod, acquainted well enough with the man to understand. “but he expects shares.”

“as he should!’ you punctuate your point with a final stab at your dinner, chewing the cooling carrot far too aggressively for how well it had been prepared.

“must everyone be compensated for broken promises?” he asks, reaching for your cleared dinner plate. “that hardly seems just.”

“is that not the very underpinnings of law?”

“so that makes it just?” he asks, returning to his seat with wine before pulling you onto his lap.

“well,” you start, grabbing your glass and straddling your lover. “it depends who is profiting.”

“consider this,” placing his wine down, he rests his open hands on your thighs, “when i make you mrs. bang—”

“when?”

“yes, when,” he emphasises with a sweet kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder, trailing his nose up the column of your neck. “should you change your mind, must i hold you accountable?”

“i would never change my mind,” you state, rendering his analogy futile. “being mrs. bang would be the honour of a lifetime.”

“you are insufferable,” he breathes, his warming forehead pressed to your shoulder. “for the sake of my analogy, say that were not the case. say being mrs bang was unliveable, the biggest regret of one’s life. should you be accountable for leaving?”

“annulment is a fickle thing, chan. there are so many other factors involved.” you predict the question on his tongue, so you proceed to list them. “wealth, health, kin, religion, intimacy—”

“we won’t have that problem.”

“we won’t have any of those problems,” you correct. “will we, mr bang?”

“no,’ he agrees, pulling your frame further up his lap, “none.” there’s a pause where he regards you with an insurmountable confusion, as if regarding you for the first time again. “you never did tell me what I did to deserve you?”

“it isn’t for me to tell,” and therein lies his issue, his desperation to remedy his thanklessness, to express his unyielding gratitude for the blessing that is his lover. if he knew what he did, then he might know what to keep doing. “just enjoy me.”

“i intend to do just that,” he breathes against your skin, lips dragging along the bone of your jaw.

it is impossible not to squirm. his touch is at the best of times manageable, yet at the worst, insufferable. his fingernails press moons into your neck and thigh, firming his grip on your nape and dragging your hips down onto his crotch. the friction is hot and reeling, the slide of his cock along your clothed folds, slowly milking him whilst displaying his restraint. you detest his chosen pace, it is all the things you simultaneously love and loathe about your partner. his mature approach to love making and his need to drag out every moment beyond what is absolutely necessary. you begin setting your own pace, digging your heels into the ground as you roll against his length. the pleasure is short lived.

“it would serve you well to hold still,” he pours into your mouth, the beginnings of a smirk tainting even the purest parts of his face. he makes it increasingly difficult to follow his generous warning, as he frees your neck and grabs the table for leverage, dragging his groin against you, readily instigating your demise. “i can be fair, y/n. just tell me what it is you desire?”

“you, chan.”

“but you have all of me,” he reminds, guiding your hand to the warm space between you, tightening your grip around his heavy length. “all of me is yours, so speak plainly.”

“i want you to—“ he lets a single digit pass between your clothed folds, soaking the fabric and the pad of his finger. your eyes slowly follow his movements, the lone finger sucked into the warmth of his mouth. “chan, please.”

“how can you beg for that which you have not asked?”

“fuck me.” he reels at your embarrassment, the warmth on your cheeks warming his neck as you burrow out of view. “please,” your breathy plea fills the shell of his ear as you drag yourself along his lap. “is that not the reason you asked me here?”

his laughter fills the air as he kicks out his chair, your combined weight tugging at the carpet. “not entirely,” he admits candidly, lifting you both in a swift motion. “i do enjoy time spent in your company.”

“well, of course,” you agree, clinging to him as he moves through his home, covering more ground with every kiss he offers to your neck. “but my company can allow for a multitude of activities.”

“a multitude you say?” he places you gently atop his sheets, your weight forcing a sensual warm oak to waft through the room. his hands settle firmly by your head, his elbows collapsing to barely rest his weight on you, eliminating any and all space. his gleaming eyes bore into your own, the tip of his nose gliding along the bridge of your own. “you mightn’t believe it, but I am a simple man. i am happy to settle for one.”

“and which one might that be?”

his head lolls dumbly from left to right, allowing but a second to pass before he gives you his answer. rows of pearl capture his lip as he lowers himself, slow sensual grinds of his hips reveal his thoughts like no words could. his hooded eyes drink the creases in your face, the waves of pleasure coursing through you as he passes between your folds. the air thickens tenfold, your pants fanning his lips as you succumb to the movements of your lover.

“chan—“ your whine draws a devious grin on his face. you feel his palm rest on your cheek, his thumb running along your jaw down to your chin where he tugs, no words nor force required to tell you what he wants.

“may i?” he breathes into your mouth, tongue rolling in his own, collecting what you unknowingly crave. you nod once, leaning up to meet his lips as he leans back. the saliva gathered on his tongue slowly passes from between his lips into your open mouth. his eyes follow the string that connects you both as you swallow, your breath faltering as his eyes drag up to gaze at you. the hunger you’re met with would force your knees together, only his own keep them apart. “i’m going to give you what you want now,” he promises, fingers tugging at your panties. “and I know you can take it,” he affirms as he slides a finger in you, grinning as you whine. “i just need to make sure.”

he pumps his finger slowly, dragging the pad languidly against your walls, his thumb circling your clit. be laughs at the tremble in your thighs, how little restraint you have always exhibited. it has always been this way. your neediness bursting through the seams, rendering his own restraint powerless. especially as your fingers toy with his waistband, fist closing around his leaking tip. your palm rolls against his slit, the heel gathering his precum as you slide against his tip. he struggles with his weight over you, his forehead pressed to your own as he winds his length between your closed fist. his lips suck on your tongue, teeth clashing, when he feels a familiar ripple of heat pass through his veins.

“baby,” he huffs, stills his hips and his fingers. “is this what you want?”

“no,” you whine, humping against his hand and pumping him all the same. “but it is you i want,” you pant, chasing a high you know your lover will never give you. “it’s you i need.”

at that he pulls your hand from him, ready to fulfil his duty as your love, to give you all the things you want and need. he shows no haste removing his clothes, buckle hitting the floor, trousers and undergarments gently kicked down his legs. he takes a modicum of time on you however. his hands glide down your sides as he frees you of your sticky underwear, hiking up your skirt as he pumps his cock. lining himself up with your slit, he gazes down at you, his doting expression in stark contrast with his bare form.

“i love you, angel,” he breathes, eyes shining as he pecks at your cheek, nose, lips.

“and i you,” you breathe in kind, choking up as he sheathes himself within your walls. he sighs as you take him, your hot folds sucking him in as he slips his tongue between your lips, swallowing your whimpers. as he bottoms out he pulls away, watching your eyes gleam in want before he snaps his hips, denouncing all fatigue. “oh, chan—”

he grunts as his name falls off your tongue, your mind and body at a loss for thoughts besides those of your lover. as he pounds into you, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly, forcing your mouth open. unintelligible moans fill the air, though he hears you calling out for him. for the most part, he hears your lustful grumbles of inexplicable pleasure. he needn’t decipher them, nor does he try. he just basks in them, his groans falling into your open mouth, the odd praise passing between your lips as does his tongue, his spit, his praise, his tongue, his spit. he uses you, as you so wish. he fucks harder into you as you fall further into delirium, pleasure rippling through you with every snap of his hips. he watches you gasp for air, gulping around his saliva, watery eyes pleading for him.

“tell me what you want.”

“i want to cum,” you whine, clinging to his tired arms as he deepens his thrusts, rolling his length into you in short, sharp motions. “please, channie.”

he feels you clench around him, his movements growing slow with each passing second. there are moments when he slips, his fist guiding himself back to you, his fingers pressed to your stomach, thumb circling your clit. he feels you teeter to the edge. your pussy closing tighter as he gathers your release, sliding his thumb harshly over your clit, fucking even faster into you as you pass into ecstacsy. his teeth clench at the base of your throat, the combined stimulation drawing your orgasm from you. all that fills the air is your gargles, his name falling off your tongue in a chant, coated in gratitude and adoration. in love. chan follows you to euphoria. his hips stutter as you milk him. His arms weakened, he rests his forehead on your temple, chasing a high only you can conjure. one that draws out grunts of gratitude, of adoration. of love.

moments pass in sticky silence. pants filling the air as the afterglow sets in, the air stagnant as the pungent smell of sex fills the room. he welcomes the short seconds of peace, but he must break it.

“move in with me.” his motives on evenings like this were never too clear, not even to himself. but chan had not lied. every moment in your presence makes your absence all the more unthinkable. sleep comes easy when you are near. he dreams sweetly when you are here. he leans over to remove your blouse, freeing you from the damp material. as he does, he gazes into your eyes, speaking softly of all the nights you could spend doing just this. all the nights you have wasted not doing this. all the ways you could spend the nights in between. all the mornings he could spend with you and you with him. “you belong with me,” he breathes, lips pressed to your knuckles as his fingers trail up and down your arms. he stills, realising he might lull you into slumber, if his words had not already done so when you speak.

“how could i not know?” you ask, splitting his pretty face with a grin. “i belong with you.”

#um illvebangchansomuchomg #bang chan #chan #skz chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #chan fluff #chan smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #skz fluff #skz smut #skz au #ncitygirls #needs a proofread

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euphoricsunflowers · 3 years

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care — monsta x

request: how do you think our boys would take care of and reassure their dom? like, with a domdrop situation, when you're feeling drained or maybe even guilty :'(

a/n: sorry if these seem kind of repetitive but i hope you like them!!! all gifs are by @imnameimss !!

word count: 2.0

content: sub!monsta x, dom!gn!reader, no smut except for the beginning of wonho’s part, usage of safewords (minhyuk and changkyun), lots of mentions and depictions of aftercare obviously, lots of bad feels on the reader’s part obviously

disclaimer: legit just please take care of your partners, whether dom or sub. remember that everyone deserves the ability to use a safeword if they need/want to and everyone deserves aftercare.

—

son hyunwoo/shownu:

he usually doesn’t start or initiate anything, letting you be the one to do it, which is helpful when you don’t want to do anything. he’s not forceful nor do you have to shut down any advances because he’s just not vocal about it when he wants it. you’ve gotten good at spotting when he’s horny, so that’s not even an issue anymore.

but if anything, hyunwoo is attentive. he noticed something was off immediately, even before you had said a word, that this wasn’t just an off day where you were just tired.

“y/n?” you hear him murmur with concern laced in his voice, “is everything- are you okay?”

“what?” you finally meet his eyes, and his heart breaks just a bit, seeing all those bad feelings you’re holding back, “i- yeah, i’m fine, woo. just a bad day.”

“i don’t think is just a bad day, baby,” he reaches out to hold your hand, and you take it hesitantly, letting him pull you a bit closer, “can you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“i’m- am i a bad person?” you blurt out, before backtracking, “and like, don’t lie to make me feel better, but am i a bad person for the things i fantasize about? i mean like, i get pleasure from hurting you! that can’t be good, i must be-”

“honey,” he whispers as he uses his free hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb soothingly, and you realize just how loud you’ve been getting, “you’re not a bad person. a bad person wouldn’t care if they were bad, and they definitely wouldn’t care about me as much as you do. you’re incredible, y/n,” he smiles sadly, “now how about we make some adjustments to our aftercare routine so this doesn’t happen again, okay?”

lee hoseok/wonho:

completely opposite from shownu, wonho is always needy and has no problems initiating, but he’s also incredibly attentive and notices something is wrong rather quickly.

“on your knees, baby,” you murmur, and right away he slides off the bed to fall to his knees, maybe bruising them a bit, but he knows you love to see him bruised up and he’s happy to make his body your canvas. he sits obediently, waiting for his next command, but he doesn’t get it. instead, you just run your fingers through his hair with a distant look on your face.

he knows in a normal situation he should stay silent, but he decides that this isn’t a right situation, “y/n? is- is everything okay?”

you snap out of your daze, “i- yeah, i’m fine. can we… not do this today, though? i’m sorry.”

“of course! that’s okay! do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks as he stands up, climbing back into bed next to you.

you sigh as he pulls you closer, holding you against his chest, “just feeling kinda icky? i’ve been feeling bad about domming for a few days, i guess i can’t hold it in anymore. can you, uhm, can you say nice things? about me?”

he tries to hold in the ‘you should have told me!’ speech that he can feel already coursing through his body because he can tell it’s not what you need nor want, “you’re the most amazing, baby, the most beautiful, the sweetest, the kindest, most loving, you’re my everything, y/n. i love you.”

“i love you too, bunny. thank you.”

lee minhyuk:

he seems like he’d be oblivious, but in fact he’s probably the most attentive to any changes in your mood whether they be sudden or gradual.

and in the moment, where that sudden “what the fuck am i doing?” realization hits you, he spots it immediately. it’s obvious in the shift from that intensely focused and amused look in your eyes to a much more nervous one. it’s obvious in the way you don’t continue your movements, both leaving him physically tense and frustrated but mentally worried out of his mind, “y/n,” he mumbles. not your title or honorific, but just your name.

“i- yeah? what is it, min?” you stutter, but the facade crumbles quickly.

“red,” he whispers like it’s a forbidden word, but it’s for your sake and not his, so there’s no hesitation in his words.

“oh fuck, i’m sorry, min, here let me-”

“wait! listen to me,” he stops you from getting off of him, pulling you close instead, “i’m fine. i’m okay and i feel good and i liked what you were doing. you’re okay, you’re not a monster, you’re not a bad person.”

you don’t ever need to tell him what’s going on in order for him to know exactly the words to say, “really? you’re- you’re okay? then why did you-”

“you needed the scene to stop,” he says, “how about you let me take care of us today? i can clean up, and we can lay in bed for a few hours and cuddle, alright?” you shake your head, trying once again to get off of time, but you should have known that once minhyuk has you in his arms, you’re not getting out, “y/n, sweetie, you always take care of me, and we’ve both failed to meet your needs this time. c’mon, let me at least try and help you feel better, please?”

yoo kihyun:

kihyun makes it a point that you both talk about your feelings constantly regarding the dynamic and before and after scenes, mostly because he had experienced a lot of sub drop over the course of your relationship when he kept trying to hide any bad feelings. so because he expects full honesty from himself, he expects the same from you.

all the bad feelings come to a head when you give in and decide to talk about them, “ki?” you murmur to him next to you, and he hums in response, “can you come here?”

he finally looks up, almost worried he had done something wrong before he sees the melancholic look on your face. he comes close to you, enough for you to pull him in, hold him with every fiber of your being, “honey, what’s wrong?”

you try to be straightforward and honest, just like how he tries to be, “i’ve been feeling bad since yesterday about what i said, about liking it when you cry.”

“are you worried about how i felt about it? or do you feel like a bad person because of it?”

you sigh, “kind of both.”

“first of all, i thought that it was incredibly hot in the moment, so don’t worry at all about that first bit,” he chuckles half-heartedly, holding you tightly against himself in return, “and secondly, you’re not a bad person for enjoying that. you knew i was consenting and we talked about everything beforehand. you didn’t do anything i didn’t want.”

“you’re sure?”

“i wouldn’t lie to you, y/n. i’m sure. now what can i do after a scene to help you feel good? obviously i might need more attention physically, but aftercare is for you too.”

chae hyungwon:

hyungwon is caring in his own little, quiet way. in the way he’ll take care of chores for you or press a kiss to your forehead even as you’re asleep when he leaves or in the way he’ll notice you’re having a bad day and silently ask to hug and hold you until you feel better. he’s quietly caring.

and it’s the same now. he’s silent unless you ask him to talk, holding you quietly as you both sit on the bed, “i’m sorry, wonnie.”

“don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong. just talk to me.”

“i’m so tired,” you groan, feeling his touch on your shoulder to keep you grounded, “i just feel so constantly paranoid that this isn’t what you want and i’m really just hurting you and you don’t actually want this, you’re just saying you do for my sake-”

“y/n,” he whispers, brining you attention back to him, “i have clear hard limits for a reason, and you’ve always respected them. i get that you’re trying to attentive to what i want, but i need you to trust and believe me. anything i let you do or ask you to do to me is something i want. you’re okay.”

“i’m okay, okay, just- just keep holding me. and- and keep reassuring me, please, i need to hear it,” you feel him adjust as you speak, lying down and pulling you to rest against his chest.

“of course, i’ll say those words until my lips are blue.”

lee jooheon:

he’s an angel, if a bit dense, that only wants the best for you both. so it takes him a moment to catch what’s going on, especially because he was incredibly needy for you but he can never stand to see you this messed up yet trying to keep it together.

“baby!” he calls out, hoping to catch your attention, but you’re too into your phone to look at him, “please, y/n, i’m so needy for you. i want to be all yours. so take me please, please don’t ignore me-”

“joo, please leave me be, i want to be alone,” you whisper, but your shaky voice worries him more than your words confuse and upset him.

“darling, talk to me, please,” he pleads, resting his head in your lap in order to make you look at him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“i just- i feel bad, okay? i don’t want this right now,” you try to keep your voice still, but it’s in vain, “fuck, jooheon, i don’t want to do this right now, okay?”

“i wasn’t- i wasn’t pressuring you into doing anything! i’m just worried about you!”

“well i just- the idea of what… i normally do today, makes me feel icky, you know?” you feel him wrap his arms around you in a weird sort of cuddle position, “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head cutely, and you run your fingers through his hair sweetly, “don’t be, let’s just lie here till you feel better. i love you, y/n, i love you so much.”

im changkyun/i.m:

in the moment he says the safeword, changkyun isn’t focused on you, and you’re not focused on you. you’re focused on taking care of him, getting him in a more comfortable position, and asking what happened. you’re not thinking about yourself as you comfort him and lull him to sleep, and you don’t think about yourself until long past he’s fallen asleep.

but then you do think about yourself. it’s so worrying to hear the word in the moment, but once the adrenaline wears off and all there is is the stifulling and suffocating fear of ever doing that again and the cruel shame that it even happened this one time is enough to wreck any chance of falling asleep together you might have.

you sit in the kitchen, drinking a cup of water, when a grumpy and tired changkyun walks out of the bedroom and clings to your back, “why are you out of bed?”

“i wasn’t feeling good, honey. go lie down, i’ll be back soon,” you murmur hushedly, but he doesn’t leave you be.

“please don’t feel bad about earlier. it wasn’t your fault that it was too much for me.”

“baby, it kind of is. i shouldn’t have pushed you that far, and now i just, i don’t feel good. i can't- i can’t sleep. i don’t even want to look at you because i’m too afraid to face it.”

“then don’t look at me, it’s dark anyway. just listen to my voice, let me try to soothe you, okay? we can talk about what happened and how it’ll be handled later on in the morning. for now, let’s go back to bed. do you want me to sing a little bit for you to lull you to sleep?”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @foenixs @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @rosiethefairy and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

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ye0ncore · 3 years

Text

love story - lee heeseung <3

in part of a new series on my blog !

note: hello babies! this is the first fic in the series i have planned!! this one is based on love story by taylor swift! i’m sorry i haven’t written in a while! i’ve been super busy, but i’m trying to get back in the groove of things!!

>> based off of: love story by taylor swift

>> pairing: heeseung x female reader

>> rating and genre: g, fluff, angst

>> warnings: kissing scenes, slight angst

>> word count: 1.2k

“shh, they’re gonna hear you,” heeseung whisper yelled, a small smile on his face. he was doing his best not to get caught by your father, but you were being a little too loud. he led you down the stairs, quietly opening the door and rushing the both of you out. once the door was shut, he took your hand and ran as far as he could by your side, so he could finally have some time alone with you.

once you both finally stopped running, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close, not wasting any time in placing his lips on yours. you melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck. the kiss was desperate, as if it was the first time in years. lipstick was smeared and hair was messy. when air became an issue, you pulled away, heeseung pulling you even closer if that was even possible.

there was a brief moment of silence, before heeseung gently lifted your head so you were looking at him. “i’m tired of sneaking around. i just want to be with you and not have to constantly be in fear of losing you. let’s just run away. let’s be together.”

you cupped his cheek, stroking his cheek, him leaning into your touch. “you won’t ever lose me, hee. i love you and i don’t care what they think. we will tell them soon, love.”

“you already did,” a new voice boomed. you jumped, and heeseung stepped in front of you protectively. you gripped onto his hand when you realized who it was. it was your father. he must have heard the two of you and followed you. “y/n, get home now. heeseung, you’re coming with.” he looked down at you, a comforting smile on his face. he gently squeezed your hand, and began walking to your home, trailing behind your father.

when the three of you finally arrived, you and heeseung walked inside first, your father walking in after, slamming the door shut. you sat on the staircase, heeseung standing beside you. your father walked up to heeseung, arms folded over his chest. “stay away from my daughter. i don’t know how many times i have to tell you.”

he took a deep breath, and smiled down at you before speaking. “sir, with all due respect, i don’t think i can do that. i love her, and i’m telling you now, that i would take care of her. she’s safe with me.”

“no, she’s safe with me. leave my home, before i throw you out myself.” you looked up at your father, shock and hurt written all over your face. heeseung placed a kiss to your knuckles and started to walk to the door.

“heeseung,” you called. he stopped in his tracks, and looked back at you. “please don’t go.” his heart stopped when he heard those words. all he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and run away with you. but, he couldn’t. all he could do, was say a small ‘i’m sorry.’ and with that, he walked out the door, leaving you alone with your father.

“y/n i-”

“no, don’t talk to me. i don’t want to hear it.” you cut him off, anger laced in your tone. you stormed upstairs, and looked out your window. you saw heeseung walking down the street, towards his own home. not even five minutes later, your father walked into your room. you completely ignored him.

“y/n, you don’t understand. i’m doing this to protect you. his family aren’t the nicest of people, and i don’t want you getting hurt. you cant love him.” you had enough. you stood up and stomped over to him.

“don’t you dare try to tell me how to feel. i don’t care who his family is, or might be. i love HIM. he’s my everything and clearly you don’t understand that. just leave. i don’t want to see you.”

you didn’t see heeseung again for the next few days. it’s like he had disappeared. a part of you thought he was upset with you. another part believed that maybe he didn’t want to be with you anymore. you contacted him, and told you to meet him at your normal meeting spot.

when i met you on the outskirts of town, and i said

“romeo save me, i’ve been feeling so alone.”

“i keep waiting for you but you never come.”

“is this in my head i don’t know what to think.”

when he had walked up to you that night, you immediately noticed the happiness on his face. you didn’t think much of it, he always looked like that whenever you saw him. he immediately wrapped you in a hug, rubbing comforting circles on the small of your back. “what did you want to talk about, princess?”

you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “you haven’t been around in a while... i keep waiting for you to show up or come see me like you used to but you just didn’t. are you upset with me? are we okay-” he cut you off, placing a finger on your lips.

“don’t even finish that sentence. of course we’re okay, love. and i’m sorry i haven’t been around, i’ve been a little busy. i’ve been preparing something for you.”

marry me juliet, you’ll never have to be alone

i love you, and that’s all i really know

“y/n... i went and i spoke to your father. we had a long conversation and he finally realized just how much i love you. it took a long time, but i finally got his blessing.” you froze in your spot.

“blessing? blessing for what-”

before you could even finish speaking, heeseung sank down onto one knee and pulled out a small velvet box. he opened it, revealing the most beautiful ring you had ever layed eyes on.

“this is what i got his blessing for. i’m gonna be honest, i had a whole speech planned, but now that i’m here, all i can really say is that i love you. more than absolutely anything. you’re m my entire world and i would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. so, marry me?”

all you could muster up was a nod, and that was all the answer he needed. he stood up and pulled you into a passionate kiss, sparks flying all around you. you were interrupted by clapping, both of you jumping in surprise. you met eyes with your father, a small, proud smile on his face.

“congratulations, you two... i’m sorry for all the trouble i caused for you. i realize now that you two truly love each other, and again, i am truly sorry for trying to get in between you.” you smiled and ran up to your father, hugging him tightly. he hugged you back, placing a kiss to the top of your head. heeseung walked over as well, taking your hand in his.

“heeseung, i am so sorry. it’s clear you love my daughter, and i’m happy she has you. just take care of her for me.” heeseung took his free hand, and shook your fathers hand, a wide smile on his face as well.

“i will sir, i promise. she’ll always be safe with me.”

cause we were both young, when i first saw you...

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what-breaks-my-heart · 3 years

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부담스럽다 (Burdensome)

Burdensome. If I have to choose ONE word to describe episodes 9 and 10 of Doom at Your Service, it’s ‘burdensome’. The story is burdensome on Tak Dong Kyung, her family, Myul Mang, the deity, Na Ji Na, Cha Joo Ik, Lee Hyun Kyu, and even myself as a viewer.

As I pointed out in my first piece of opinion on this drama when I first started it, the literal title — One Day, through the Entrance of My House, Doom Came in — reflects the experience of the character whose perspective we are seeing, i.e., Dong Kyung, through her grief. Her experience so far, is in line with the 5 Stages of Grief Model.

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

Acceptance

This post by @captainstarkky elaborated at length on this, so I recommend checking it out.

Episodes 9 and 10 made me realise that Dong Kyung is not the only one who feels burdened in this drama. From the very beginning, we saw how Dong Kyung has this tendency of giving in and not speaking what’s truly in her mind, because she does not want to be a burden to other people.

She does this not only to strangers, but also to those who love her. Why? Is it because she lacks self-esteem? Is it because she’s still grieving over the death of her parents and her status as an orphan who does not have anyone to rely on? Is it because of her self-assumed responsibility to take care of her little brother? Is it because her aunt Kang Soo Ja who raised her and her little brother was herself financially struggling, hence the motivation to not become a burden on those who love her?

We saw how anytime someone showered Dong Kyung with love or compassion, she looked awkward and uncomfortable, just like when Aunt Soo Ja tried putting on a hat on her.

Quite a number of people around Dong Kyung noticed this. Funnily enough, her walking on eggshells around them made those people walk on eggshells around her too.

Dong Kyung feeling like a burden to the people around her makes those people to be uncomfortable around her, which in itself is a burdensome feeling to have. Her feeling like a burden makes them feel burdened.

Dong Kyung’s refusal to be completely honest with her loved ones, to tell them what’s really on her mind, hurts them more than the actual tragedy that has befallen onto her.

You see here how Dong Kyung understands that the look on someone’s eyes is also a way of communicating without actually talking about it out loud; it’s to be understood and accepted as a way of communication. Thinking back at how difficult it must had been for Aunt Soo Ja to raise both Dong Kyung and Sun Kyung, Dong Kyung must had seen and understood the frustration Aunt Soo Ja had over the years.

So it’s understandable how Dong Kyung goes on believing that communicating only through the look on someone’s eyes is a perfectly sufficient way of communicating. She assumed a burdensome responsibility by herself when she was 10 only years old, and what you learn at such a young age becomes part of your identity.

What Dong Kyung fails to appreciate is the difference between other people’s feelings and what they choose to do with them. Is it a surprise though? She grew up feeling like a burden, so she wouldn’t have been able to understand it.

Feelings come and go. You don’t have complete control over them. As we live our lives, it is completely normal to experience all sorts of feelings. But what makes us human is having the free will to choose what we want to do with them. Dong Kyung’s friends and family can see how hurt Dong Kyung is, but they choose to respect her decision to keep a happy face in front of them.

Aunt Soo Ja is arguably the one person who has seen Dong Kyung’s struggle the most. But what did she choose to do? She embraces Dong Kyung with warm, comforting love, pretending to not know about her struggle.

As @fierycavalier said in one of her numerous tags, when Aunt Soo Ja put not one, but THREE winter accessories which she bought in Canada on Dong Kyung, she did it in a way that you could observe that she physically put the weight of her love over the years around Dong Kyung like a warm blanket so there’s no way Dong Kyung could ignore it.

It’s like the saying, “if you don’t have anything good to say, then say nothing at all”. More often than not, when someone you love is grieving over something, the only thing you can do is just to be there for them in silence, letting them feel your warm presence — whether in person or in spirit — while giving them the space to process their feelings as they grieve.

Nevertheless, this does not mean that it is healthy for someone to keep suppressing what’s on their mind all the time. Not saying their feelings out loud caused Joo Ik, Hyun Kyu, and Ji Na to be entangled in the situation they have been in for the past nine years. As a result, they have been feeling burdened by their past, unable to move on.

We can safely conclude that Dong Kyung, her family, her colleagues, Myul Mang, Na Ji Na, Cha Joo Ik, Lee Hyun Kyu feel even more burdened than they would have theoretically feel had they chosen to be honest and talk about their feelings instead of pretending to be okay.

As they walk on eggshells around each other, cautious not to burden and hurt the other’s feelings, they paradoxically hurt and burden them anyway.

Funny how things come full circle as they try to avoid it in the first place.

Now, that itself feels burdensome.

p/s: I am so sad that my method of embedding Tumblr gifs in my post is currently not working. Otherwise, I would have embedded gifs from @belsmultifandommess which I requested the other day in this post. Do visit the gifset 1, 2, 3, 4 and have fun using your imagination to guess which exact gifs I would have embedded in and where in the post I would place them.

#doom at your service #kdrama #kdrama opinion #while most of my previous essays ended in a hopeful tone I chose a burdensome ending for this #because I can feel my heart heavy with burden as I'm writing this #interestingly I feel less burdened now that I've put this into words

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delphinidin4 · 4 years

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“Abominable neglect and unkindness”: Fanny Price and Trauma

I have C-PTSD, and it’s really been on my mind as I’ve been rereading Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: her heroine of Fanny Price is so OBVIOUSLY traumatized that I started making notes upon notes upon notes in my kindle copy on her symptoms and their causes. A couple of my followers said they’d be interested to read my analysis if I wrote it up, and it doesn’t take much to encourage me to put a few thousand words on the page screen! So below is my (probably WAY too long) analysis of Fanny Price’s emotional trauma and complex PTSD (a form of PTSD often caused by long-term emotional abuse/neglect). It’s hella long. sorrynotsorry lol

*unleashes inner academic*

Part 1: How Fanny Price Was Traumatized

Trauma 1: She is taken from family and home.

Okay, imagine this: You’re ten years old. You grew up in a noisy, lower-middle-class family with multiple little siblings and both your parents. You are the oldest girl, and are important to all the members of your family because you act as “playfellow, instructress, and nurse” to your younger siblings. You are also “exceedingly timid and shy”. And suddenly you find out that your mother is SENDING YOU AWAY--far, far away--to aunts and uncle and cousins you’ve never met before, to be raised by THEM instead of your parents. Leaving everything else out of the equation for a second, that by itself would be ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATING. You would feel like your parents didn’t love you and didn’t want you. You weren’t important to them. You might wonder what you did wrong to be sent away. And THEN it turns out you’re NEVER COMING BACK. EVER. Fanny doesn’t see her family again until she is, I think nineteen years old. At first, she doesn’t even have the means to write to her brother William, which was to be her ONLY connection to her family: it seems her parents don’t write to her at all over the course of the novel.

All of this would be bad enough. But to come to a place that was entirely alien to everything you had known... I mean, think about it. This is Mansfield Park, an ENORMOUS house with MANY servants, a completely different way of doing things. There’s MONEY. Even the items around you are of a totally different quality than you’re used to: Austen says of Fanny’s initial impression of Mansfield, “The grandeur of the house astonished, but could not console her. The rooms were too large for her to move in with ease: whatever she touched she expected to injure, and she crept about in constant terror of something or other; often retreating towards her own chamber to cry.” The accent people speak with is probably different. The vocabulary is probably different. And everybody DEFINITELY thought she was under-educated (more about this in a bit) because she didn’t have the education of a gentleman’s daughter--because she ISN’T a gentleman’s daughter. It must have caused her intense culture shock.

Trauma 2: William’s absence

It’s clear that in her childhood in Portsmouth, William is the dearest member of Fanny’s family (see below for a discussion of her parents). When Fanny first arrives at Mansfield, Edmund discovers that,

dear as all these brothers and sisters generally were, there was one among them who ran more in her thoughts than the rest. It was William whom she talked of most, and wanted most to see. William, the eldest, a year older than herself, her constant companion and friend; her advocate with her mother (of whom he was the darling) in every distress. ‘William did not like she should come away; he had told her he should miss her very much indeed.’

Fanny’s one really warm and loving connection seems to be with William, and she is parted from him, first by her move to Mansfield, and then by his going to sea:

Once, and once only, in the course of many years, had she the happiness of being with William. Of the rest [of her Portsmouth family] she saw nothing: nobody seemed to think of her ever going amongst them again, even for a visit, nobody at home seemed to want her; but William determining, soon after her removal, to be a sailor, was invited to spend a week with his sister in Northamptonshire before he went to sea. Their eager affection in meeting, their exquisite delight in being together, their hours of happy mirth, and moments of serious conference, may be imagined; as well as ...the misery of the girl when he left her. Luckily the visit happened in the Christmas holidays, when she could directly look for comfort to her cousin Edmund.

Fanny continues a correspondence with William when he is at sea, but it’s clear that his long absence from her life is very difficult for her.

One final note on her being parted from her family for long intervals: I think we might actually see a sign of this trauma in an emotional flashback later in the book.

For those unfamiliar with complex PTSD, flashbacks don’t always mean that you have a sort of hallucination of a traumatic experience. In the case of complex PTSD and PTSD from early childhood trauma, flashbacks often occur in the form of “emotional flashbacks”: instead of re-experiencing the sensory input of the traumatic experience (seeing and hearing the experience all over again when triggered), emotional flashbacks consist ONLY of the emotional content of the trauma. They result in sudden rushes of negative emotions such as fear, shame, sorrow, despair, embarrassment, anger, etc. This may be partly because the trigger is acting on so many different traumatic memories at once (the brain can’t just pick out one to show to you) and partly because the traumatic memory being triggered is from so early in your childhood that you don’t have a direct memory of it anymore, just the trauma memory. Emotional flashbacks can be identified by comparing the emotional response to the stimulus: If the emotion is inappropriate for the situation or inappropriately intense, it may well be a flashback.

In this scene, Miss Crawford--whom Fanny does not care for at all--is taking her leave of Fanny: I find it to be illuminating.

And embracing her very affectionately, “Good, gentle Fanny! when I think of this being the last time of seeing you for I do not know how long, I feel it quite impossible to do anything but love you.”

Fanny was affected. She had not foreseen anything of this, and her feelings could seldom withstand the melancholy influence of the word “last.” She cried as if she had loved Miss Crawford more than she possibly could.

It sounds to me as if Fanny is having a negative reaction that is out of proportion for and inappropriate to the situation. Miss Crawford is leaving, and Fanny is GLAD that she is leaving. Nonetheless, she is involuntarily emotionally “affected” by Miss Crawford’s goodbye, and cries far more than is actually in keeping with her feelings. It seems like Fanny is triggered by the leave-taking and “the melancholy influence of the word ‘last’.” Fanny has had traumatic leave-takings from her family and her beloved William; and things like “This is the last time I’ll see you for who knows how long” must have been said to her before in intensely traumatic situations. So it’s no wonder she gets triggered by this situation’s similarity to those and has an out-sized emotional response. Separations from her family and from William were definitely traumatic to her and reminders of them now trigger trauma responses.

Trauma 3: Emotional neglect by parental figures

Fanny might not have been so badly traumatized by leaving her family and being separated from William if she had had emotional support from adult caregivers. Research has shown that if a child has even ONE adult to whom they can talk openly about their feelings, that can insulate them against the effects of trauma.

Fanny doesn’t have this. Both Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram are emotionally neglectful and distant.* Lady Bertram is pleasant, but is entirely self-centered and doesn’t really GAF about anybody or anything that doesn’t directly affect her. While she never abuses or hurts Fanny with unkindness, she also never comforts her, listens to her, or seems to do anything but get Fanny to fetch and carry for her and do half her sewing for her. There is a total lack of emotional connection between them until considerably later in the story.

[*Footnote: Miss Lee is surprisingly absent from the narrative and seems to be of no emotional support to Fanny whatsoever.]

Sir Thomas is worse. While he intends to take good care of Fanny--and to his credit, he does make sure she has her material needs met, is well educated, gets exercise, etc--he cannot be said to be NICE to her. Even when she first arrives, when he is trying his hardest to be kind, Austen says, “Sir Thomas, seeing how much she needed encouragement, tried to be all that was conciliating: but he had to work against a most untoward gravity of deportment.” He’s not good with kids, and he seems to be highly critical of Fanny, especially before his return from Antigua. Apparently he used to terrify her in childhood by catechizing her on her lessons in French in English, which implies he constantly found her wanting. His parting words to her on the beginning of his voyage to Antigua are downright scalding: “If William does come to Mansfield, I hope you may be able to convince him that the many years which have passed since you parted have not been spent on your side entirely without improvement; though, I fear, he must find his sister at sixteen in some respects too much like his sister at ten.”

JFC, Tommy-boy. Throttle back a little, can’t you?

He’s not popular even with his own daughters: Austen says of Maria and Julia, “Their father was no object of love to them; he had never seemed the friend of their pleasures, and his absence was unhappily most welcome. They were relieved by it from all restraint”. Sir Thomas comes across as a bit of a martinet, always finding fault and always saying no. At best, he doesn’t seem to be at all warm and encouraging, and appears to be almost entirely ignorant, not only of what Fanny’s character is like, but also about his own daughters’ characters.

There’s also the problem of his lack of understanding and compassion for Fanny. She describes him as “all that was clever and good,” but both his cleverness and goodness frequently seem to be lacking. He doesn’t understand Fanny’s feelings any more than he understands those of Maria, sending Edmund to sound Fanny out on the subject of Mr. Crawford because he CANNOT understand how a woman might not love a man that was clever, pleasant and rich. While he provided the money to raise Fanny, his disregard of her is clear when he sends her on a long visit to Portsmouth, where her health suffers. Even Crawford recognizes Sir Thomas’s likeliness to neglect her:

I know Mansfield, I know its way, I know its faults towards you. I know the danger of your being so far forgotten, as to have your comforts give way to the imaginary convenience of any single being in the family. I am aware that you may be left here week after week, if Sir Thomas cannot settle everything ... without involving the slightest alteration of the arrangements which he may have laid down for the next quarter of a year.

Sir Thomas, while priding himself (and being praised by others) as being so kind and clever, has low emotional intelligence and too little care for Fanny. Despite his occasional kindnesses, and her claim on his care as his direct dependent, she is not one of his priorities.

Of course, Fanny’s own parents would have had the strongest effects on her earliest years (especially considering the Prices didn’t seem to have a nanny or governess, so Mrs. Price would have been responsible for all her education, as well). It’s clear that Fanny’s mother didn’t show her much love in her early childhood: Mrs. Price is described as

“the ‘mama’ who had certainly shewn no remarkable fondness for her formerly; but this [Fanny] could easily suppose to have been her own fault or her own fancy. She had probably alienated love by the helplessness and fretfulness of a fearful temper, or been unreasonable in wanting a larger share than any one among so many could deserve.”

We can see Fanny here doing what so many emotionally neglected children do, making excuses for their parents and assuming that the emotional neglect and abuse they suffer are somehow THEIR fault. Many emotionally abused or neglected children believe that they’re too loud, too needy, too much, and even ugly, blaming themselves for their parents’ rejecting and disgusted behavior toward them.

It’s proven, however, when Fanny goes home, that her parents are just as neglectful of her as she felt them to be formerly. Her father is “negligent of his family”, and her mother clearly does not really love her:

Mrs. Price was not unkind; but, instead of gaining on her affection and confidence, and becoming more and more dear, her daughter never met with greater kindness from her than on the first day of her arrival. The instinct of nature was soon satisfied, and Mrs. Price’s attachment had no other source. Her heart and her time were already quite full; she had neither leisure nor affection to bestow on Fanny. Her daughters never had been much to her.* She was fond of her sons, especially of William, but Betsey was the first of her girls whom she had ever much regarded. To her she was most injudiciously indulgent. William was her pride; Betsey her darling; and John, Richard, Sam, Tom, and Charles occupied all the rest of her maternal solicitude, alternately her worries and her comforts. These shared her heart: her time was given chiefly to her house and her servants.

[*Footnote: I have to stop here for a moment and mention poor Susan, whom I like better at every reading. With Mrs. Price only loving her sons and Betsy, with Mary dead and Fanny gone, Susan was for years THE ONLY completely unloved child in the house, which must have been pretty awful. It’s clear that Fanny and Susan have suffered rather similar fates in being raised without love, and Susan only responds more with irritation and Fanny more with tears: “Susan was only acting on the same truths, and pursuing the same system, which [Fanny’s] own judgment acknowledged, but which her more supine and yielding temper would have shrunk from asserting. Susan tried to be useful, where she could only have gone away and cried”. Please tell me somebody’s written a sequel about Susan?]

Again, while Mr. and Mrs. Price are not CRUEL, they’re not KIND, either. They are deeply emotionally neglectful toward Susan and Fanny, and Mrs. Price shows favoritism for the rest of her children, thus hurting her daughters further. Fanny’s probable surmise when she was sent away that she was not loved or wanted by her parents unfortunately appears to be very true. While an adult like Fanny can rationalize such behavior by her parents (even if it pains her), a child cannot do so, and the Prices’ lack of love for their own daughter must have been traumatizing and contributed to her belief that she can never matter to anybody (more on this in a bit).

Trauma 4: Lack of Companionship: Maria and Julia (and Miss Lee)

Fanny’s education when she arrives at Mansfield is not that of a gentlewoman--hardly surprising, given both her family’s socioeconomic position and her mother’s busy-ness with her family and general indolence. Maria and Julia’s education on scholarly subjects is clearly much stronger (they’re also 2-3 years older than her), and we know that their moral education was neglected, so that they only care about whether Fanny is rich and well-educated like themselves:

They could not but hold her cheap on finding that she had but two sashes, and had never learned French; and when they perceived her to be little struck with the duet they were so good as to play, they could do no more than make her a generous present of some of their least valued toys, and leave her to herself, while they adjourned to whatever might be the favourite holiday sport of the moment, making artificial flowers or wasting gold paper.

They’re generous enough to give her presents (though their least-valued belongings), but not generous enough to actually spend time with her, and it appears that this pattern holds throughout Fanny’s time at Mansfield.

At first, Mrs. Norris, Sir Thomas, and Miss Lee all think her actually stupid instead of just ill-educated: we are told that not only did Miss Lee “[wonder] at her ignorance,” but

A mean opinion of her abilities was not confined to [Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris]. Fanny could read, work [that means “sew”], and write, but she had been taught nothing more; and as her cousins found her ignorant of many things with which they had been long familiar, they thought her prodigiously stupid, and for the first two or three weeks were continually bringing some fresh report of it into the drawing-room.

You would think that the adults at least would realize that Fanny hadn’t had the opportunity of a gentlewoman’s education, but no, they attribute it to natural stupidity instead of opportunity:

“My dear,” their considerate aunt would reply, “it is very bad, but you must not expect everybody to be as forward and quick at learning as yourself.”

It is only Edmund who perceives that Fanny is not only NOT stupid, she’s actually clever:

He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which, properly directed, must be an education in itself. Miss Lee taught her French, and heard her read the daily portion of history; but he recommended the books which charmed her leisure hours, he encouraged her taste, and corrected her judgment: he made reading useful by talking to her of what she read, and heightened its attraction by judicious praise.

One wonders, if a sixteen-year-old boy hadn’t decided to undertake part of Fanny’s education himself, how much worse off would she have been?

That Fanny’s companionship fell almost entirely to a teenage boy six years her senior who spends most of the year away at boarding school/university, is a ringing indictment of the behavior of Maria and Julia, and of those who should have been encouraging them to make a friend of their cousin.

Trauma 5: Mrs Norris (who gets a fucking section all her own)

Here we are. We’ve finally come to it. The other four traumas would certainly have been sufficient to cause C-PTSD, but JFC, Mrs. Norris could have caused it all by her lonesome. While she comes across as amusing in Austen’s sardonic style, she is absolutely toxic for Fanny’s mental health.

Mrs. Norris seems to have had an out-sized effect on the three Mansfield girls. Generally, mothers were in charge of the education of their daughters (even if indirectly, through a governess), so while Sir Thomas did examine them on their lessons, it was really supposed to be Lady Bertram’s job to see to their practical and moral education. But Lady Bertram is an absolute zero, a completely passive character, and Austen says directly that, “To the education of her daughters Lady Bertram paid not the smallest attention.” So it seems like the much more active Mrs. Norris stepped in, and her influence was extremely strong with all three of them, despite her being married and having her own house and her own concerns for the first seven or so years of Fanny’s time at Mansfield.

We can see her influence with all three in the fact that all three of the Mansfield girls end up evaluating themselves in almost perfect accordance to how Mrs. Norris evaluated them. Maria, the golden child*, became very spoiled and proud and thought she could do almost whatever she wanted. Fanny, the scapegoat, came to believe that her only worth was in being “useful” (Mrs. Norris’s hobby-horse) and that she could never be of any importance to anybody. And Julia, while closer to Maria’s level of treatment than Fanny’s, also suffers from comparisons to the golden child:

That Julia escaped better than Maria was owing, in some measure, to a favourable difference of disposition and circumstance, but in a greater to her having been less the darling of that very aunt, less flattered and less spoilt. Her beauty and acquirements had held but a second place. She had been always used to think herself a little inferior to Maria.

[*footnote: Treating one child as the golden child and one as the scapegoat is a very common tactic of abusive caregivers. The scapegoat becomes entirely worn down in self-esteem so that she is powerless to fight back against the abuse. The golden child and other children see how the scapegoat is treated and try hard not to rock the boat because they don’t want to end up like that.]

Mrs. Norris teaches Fanny from the beginning to judge and reject her own natural emotions. On her first traumatic separation from her family, Mrs. Norris lectures her incessantly on how she ought to be HAPPY, not sad:

Mrs. Norris had been talking to her the whole way from Northampton of her wonderful good fortune, and the extraordinary degree of gratitude and good behaviour which it ought to produce, and her consciousness of misery was therefore increased by the idea of its being a wicked thing for her not to be happy.

Fanny is taught to regard her own natural feelings as “wicked”, especially when they are a negative reaction to how the Bertram/Norris family treats her. While she can see some of her own feelings as just--when they have been sanctioned by Edmund’s judgment--any feeling that tends away from perfect gratitude toward the Bertram/Norris family she immediately rejects as an immoral response. She frequently takes herself to task at these moments. Anger and resentment are natural responses meant to help us protect ourselves against mistreatment from others, and this self-defending response is entirely squelched by Mrs. Norris’s behavior to her.

Mrs. Norris’s behavior toward Fanny is not only emotionally abusive; it is also at least physically neglectful, if not physically abusive. Despite the fact that everyone agrees that Fanny “is not strong”, Mrs. Norris makes a lot of difficulties in Edmund’s attempts to make sure Fanny has a horse to ride, and also refuses to allow Fanny a fire in the East Room, even in the middle of winter, a privation that ever Sir Thomas thinks bad enough that he countermands it--though doing so with a little explanatory disclaimer to Fanny explaining why Mrs. Norris MEANS well and why Fanny shouldn’t dare to be angry, or indeed anything but immensely and forever grateful for their neglectful treatment of her:

Your aunt Norris has always been an advocate, and very judiciously, for young people’s being brought up without unnecessary indulgences; but there should be moderation in everything. She is also very hardy herself, which of course will influence her in her opinion of the wants of others. And on another account, too, I can perfectly comprehend. I know what her sentiments have always been. The principle was good in itself, but it may have been, and I believe has been, carried too far in your case. I am aware that there has been sometimes, in some points, a misplaced distinction; but I think too well of you, Fanny, to suppose you will ever harbour resentment on that account. You have an understanding which will prevent you from receiving things only in part, and judging partially by the event. You will take in the whole of the past, you will consider times, persons, and probabilities, and you will feel that they were not least your friends who were educating and preparing you for that mediocrity of condition which seemed to be your lot. Though their caution may prove eventually unnecessary, it was kindly meant; and of this you may be assured, that every advantage of affluence will be doubled by the little privations and restrictions that may have been imposed. I am sure you will not disappoint my opinion of you, by failing at any time to treat your aunt Norris with the respect and attention that are due to her.

~*GAAASSSSS-LIGHTINNNNGGGGGGG*~

“Oh, shit, you’ve been freezing to death here for years because your aunt’s an abusive asshole. Oh, but there are three million excuses for her, and also you’re SO GOOD AND GRATEFUL that I KNOW you’ll never allow yourself to see it for the abuse it was, and aren’t you so GRATEFUL to us all for everything we’ve done for you? We MEANT well. And being abused was good for you anyway. If you ever get mad at your abusers I’ll treat you with withering criticism.”

*gagggg* I could write an entire essay explicating the gaslighting in that passage ALONE.

I could go on and on about Mrs. Norris’s abusive behavior toward Fanny, but I think most of it’s perfectly obvious to the reader. I think a very interesting argument might be made on whether Mrs. Norris would count as having a form of narcissistic personality disorder--always worried about her own importance, living through her golden child Maria, taking everything out on her scapegoat, insisting always on associating her own value with that of Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram and insisting on Fanny’s status being lower because her own self-esteem is dependent on being as good as her sister Bertram and better than her sister Price. Might be interesting.

Part 2: Fanny Price’s Trauma Responses

Complex emotional trauma expresses itself in a number of symptoms and behaviors. We’ve already talked about emotional flashbacks, and I’m going to look at four more major aspects of Fanny’s trauma responses.

Anxiety and Hypervigilance

People with PTSD often suffer from hypervigilance, where their body is constantly on high alert for threats in their environment. These threats are not only physical threats (resulting in things like jumping really hard at sudden noises) but also interpersonal threats. For instance, whenever I hear people talking really quietly in my house, I stop whatever I’m doing and listen REALLY HARD because I’m worried they’re talking about me and it’s gonna be bad.

Fanny exhibits this same behavior when she has retreated to the East Room when Crawford is in the house to propose to her:

She sat some time in a good deal of agitation, listening, trembling, and fearing to be sent for every moment; but as no footsteps approached the East room, she grew gradually composed, could sit down, and be able to employ herself, and able to hope that Mr. Crawford had come and would go without her being obliged to know anything of the matter.

Nearly half an hour had passed, and she was growing very comfortable, when suddenly the sound of a step in regular approach was heard; a heavy step, an unusual step in that part of the house: it was her uncle’s; she knew it as well as his voice; she had trembled at it as often, and began to tremble again, at the idea of his coming up to speak to her, whatever might be the subject. It was indeed Sir Thomas who opened the door and asked if she were there, and if he might come in. The terror of his former occasional visits to that room seemed all renewed, and she felt as if he were going to examine her again in French and English.

Her trembling at the sound of her uncle’s footsteps looks like hypervigilance, and the fact of her childhood “terror” being “renewed” sounds like she’s having another flashback, since she so strongly associates the presence of her uncle in the East Room with those painful childhood visits. She reacts with physical symptoms of stress, trembling at his approach.

Fanny’s anxiety and hypervigilance also demonstrates itself in her being constantly convinced that people are going to be angry with her. When she turns Mr. Crawford down, for instance, she is CONVINCED that Miss Crawford is going to be furious with her, and fears to meet with her. Edmund tells her Miss Crawford isn’t REALLY angry with her, but cannot convince her:

The promised visit from “her friend,” as Edmund called Miss Crawford, was a formidable threat to Fanny, and she lived in continual terror of it. As a sister, so partial and so angry, and so little scrupulous of what she said... she was in every way an object of painful alarm. ...The dependence of having others present when they met was Fanny’s only support in looking forward to it. She absented herself as little as possible from Lady Bertram, kept away from the East room, and took no solitary walk in the shrubbery, in her caution to avoid any sudden attack.

Fanny is so terrified of a polite confrontation with Miss Crawford, whom she has never seen angry before, that she spends DAYS trying to never be alone so that she’ll feel protected by the presence of company! Of course, when Miss Crawford DOES visit, she’s nothing but friendly. But Fanny’s PTSD couldn’t allow her to believe that until it happened. Her anxiety is intense, and this sort of thing happens repeatedly over the course of the novel.

Over-accommodation of others / people-pleasing

Childhood emotional trauma frequently leads to people-pleasing behavior: doing what you do not want to do simply because someone else wants you to. To understand this, you have to put yourself into the point of view of a very young child or an infant. Children depend entirely on their caregivers for survival: they are aware of this on an instinctive level. If the caregiver shows them very conditional love, only appearing pleased with them when the child does things they like and displeased when the child does things that inconvenience them, the child quickly learns that they need to please their caregivers in order to survive. “Mom gets angry when I cry--Mom doesn’t like me to cry--if Mom gets angry at me, I could starve to death--I need to not cry.” Obviously this line of thinking happens on a subconscious rather than a conscious level, but it’s incredibly powerful nonetheless. I have found myself in situations where a person with some kind of power over me--a doctor, for instance--shows displeasure with something I say to them, and I INSTANTLY find myself backing off, making light of it, taking back everything I said, etc, even though I very much meant it and it needed to be said. The people-pleasing instinct is very strong and difficult to overcome.

In Fanny’s case, it isn’t just a matter of her caregivers showing her inconsistent love in early childhood. Even as an adult, she is fully aware that she needs to please the Bertrams, or she--and her family!--are SCREWED. She is entirely financially dependent on the Bertrams. If she displeases them, not only can they make her life at Mansfield even MORE uncomfortable than it already is, but they can send her back to Portsmouth. Even worse, they could stop their financial support of William and the financial support they are periodically sending to the rest of her family. Huge things hang on Fanny’s pleasing the Bertrams, and it’s small wonder she has developed the habit of trying to please everybody constantly (even her un-pleasable Aunt Norris).

Fanny repeatedly does things she doesn’t want to do, simply because someone asks or tells her to, even if there’s likely to be no major consequences if she doesn’t. One example is on Miss Crawford’s last visit to Mansfield, when Fanny is trying her darnedest to avoid speaking with her alone:

[Miss Crawford] was determined to see Fanny alone, and therefore said to her tolerably soon, in a low voice, “I must speak to you for a few minutes somewhere”; words that Fanny felt all over her, in all her pulses and all her nerves. Denial was impossible. Her habits of ready submission, on the contrary, made her almost instantly rise and lead the way out of the room. She did it with wretched feelings, but it was inevitable.

Fanny doesn’t want to talk to Miss Crawford alone. Fanny doesn’t NEED to talk to Miss Crawford alone. Fanny could stall, perhaps until Miss Crawford left. Nonetheless, the MOMENT Miss Crawford asks it of her, Fanny does it--even though she’s clearly terrified, feeling it “in all her pulses and all her nerves” (more on this physical reaction later). She acts almost like Ella Enchanted: she literally can’t say no.

Likewise, she doesn’t take opportunities she is offered to do things that she DOES wish to do. After a very long description of how much she wants to dance one evening, when her only chance of a partner is Tom, the following exchange occurs:

When he had told of his horse, [Tom] took a newspaper from the table, and looking over it, said in a languid way, “If you want to dance, Fanny, I will stand up with you.” With more than equal civility the offer was declined; she did not wish to dance. “I am glad of it,” said he, in a much brisker tone, and throwing down the newspaper again, “for I am tired to death.”

Fanny DOES want to dance, and the way that he worded the question, she could very well have said, “Yes, please,” and gotten up to dance with him. He has made it obvious that he doesn’t want to dance, and she has picked up on this and said--not only that they don’t have to dance, but the LIE that she doesn’t WANT to dance--in order to please him. Later Austen points Tom out as a hypocrite when he complains, “It raises my spleen more than anything, to have the pretence of being asked, of being given a choice, and at the same time addressed in such a way as to oblige one to do the very thing, whatever it be!” But while it is true that Tom left Fanny LITTLE choice in the matter, it is also true that a stronger character, like Miss Crawford, could probably have found a way to say that she DID want to dance, even with such an unencouraging questioner. Fanny cannot do this: she has been conditioned all her life to give in to people--because her very SURVIVAL has depended on it.

In particular, Mrs. Norris has squelched Fanny’s independence of spirit very firmly. At one point she observes, very unfairly,

There is a something about Fanny, I have often observed it before—she likes to go her own way to work; she does not like to be dictated to; she takes her own independent walk whenever she can; she certainly has a little spirit of secrecy, and independence, and nonsense, about her, which I would advise her to get the better of.”

As a general reflection on Fanny, Sir Thomas thought nothing could be more unjust.

Obviously, Mrs. Norris is completely wrong about this. But as long as she can project* the fault of independence on Fanny, and punish Fanny for this false fault, she can prevent her from ever developing it. By picking on the least little supposed sign of independence and harping on it for ages, Mrs. Norris can prevent Fanny from ever developing a will of her own.

[*Footnote: this is another thing narcissists do: they project their own bad behavior on to others. Mrs. Norris is definitely not secretive, but she is very “independent” and has a lot of “nonsense”--instead of consulting with others about what they actually need in any given situation, she TELLS them. She has no spirit of cooperation, and all her “services” to others tend to be officious and useless.]

Low self-esteem

I thought about putting this together with the section on Mrs. Norris, because Fanny’s self-esteem has been so much shaped by her aunt. This is the kind of message Mrs. Norris is constantly drilling into her about the lowness of her importance:

The nonsense and folly of people’s stepping out of their rank and trying to appear above themselves, makes me think it right to give you a hint, Fanny, now that you are going into company without any of us; and I do beseech and entreat you not to be putting yourself forward, and talking and giving your opinion as if you were one of your cousins—as if you were dear Mrs. Rushworth or Julia. That will never do, believe me. Remember, wherever you are, you must be the lowest and last.

This message is so entirely in keeping with the messages Mrs. Norris has been indoctrinating Fanny with over the years that she has fully internalized it. When a primary caregiver tells you over and over again that you do not matter to anyone, you come to believe it:

[Fanny:] “I can never be important to any one.”

[Edmund:] “What is to prevent you?”

“Everything. My situation, my foolishness and awkwardness.”

“As to your foolishness and awkwardness, my dear Fanny, believe me, you never have a shadow of either, but in using the words so improperly. There is no reason in the world why you should not be important where you are known. You have good sense, and a sweet temper, and I am sure you have a grateful heart, that could never receive kindness without wishing to return it. I do not know any better qualifications for a friend and companion.”

“You are too kind,” said Fanny, colouring at such praise; “how shall I ever thank you as I ought, for thinking so well of me.”

Fanny’s “I can never be important to any one” sounds very much like a triggered teenager sobbing, “Nobody will ever love me!” even while friends next to her are demonstrating that they DO love her. The survivor of this kind of abuse comes to a place where their beliefs do not reflect reality because their beliefs instead reflect the intense emotional rejection they have received from their main caregivers*. Fanny is important to Edmund, William, and Lady Bertram, but is convinced that she not only is NOT important to ANYONE, but never CAN be. She also convinced that she is foolish and awkward, probably by the early experiences at Mansfield when she didn’t know all the intricate rules of high society and was far behind Maria and Julia in her education. Fanny, though she is extremely shy, manages to carry off most things with surprising grace, and she is clever and has a wisdom and common sense in some things far beyond her years. Yet she is CERTAIN that she is “foolish and awkward”, because she has been repeatedly called so by authority figures in her life and almost all of her family at Mansfield.

[*Footnote: these extreme beliefs are often couched in “black-and-white” language: “EVERYBODY hates me, NOBODY loves me, I’ll NEVER be able to do it right, I’ll be alone FOREVER”. We can hear this in Fanny’s “I can NEVER be of importance to ANY ONE”.]

Fanny not only thinks very lowly of herself, she also is afraid of being praised or of anything that could possibly raise her self-esteem. For instance, in a discussion with Edmund, she explains why she never wants anybody to notice her:

[Edmund:] “Your uncle is disposed to be pleased with you in every respect; and I only wish you would talk to him more. You are one of those who are too silent in the evening circle.”

[Fanny:] “But I do talk to him more than I used. I am sure I do. Did not you hear me ask him about the slave-trade last night?”

“I did—and was in hopes the question would be followed up by others. It would have pleased your uncle to be inquired of farther.”

“And I longed to do it—but there was such a dead silence! And while my cousins were sitting by without speaking a word, or seeming at all interested in the subject, I did not like—I thought it would appear as if I wanted to set myself off at their expense, by shewing a curiosity and pleasure in his information which he must wish his own daughters to feel.”

“Miss Crawford was very right in what she said of you the other day: that you seemed almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect.”

She is literally fearful of notice and praise--because Mrs. Norris has told her repeatedly throughout her life that she must NEVER shine more than Maria or Julia, must NEVER take attention away from them--a sort of vicarious narcissism. And Fanny feels that to receive a compliment, to state her own opinions, or even to TALK much in company is “stepping out of her place”, the high crime and misdemeanor of Mrs. Norris’s upbringing.

I was raised by a narcissistic caretaker, and I am sometimes suddenly overwhelmed with terror that I’m taking too much attention to myself and that I’m therefore BAD somehow. Because a narcissist (or their proxy, the golden child) must always be the center of attention, the scapegoat is emotionally punished for ever taking the spotlight. Mrs. Norris is disposed to be upset when Sir Thomas holds a dance in Fanny’s honor, and is only reconciled to it because SHE will be able to make herself the center of attention in the preparations.*

[*Footnote: I think another argument can be made for Mrs. Norris’s narcissism in her response to Crawford’s proposal to Fanny:

Angry she was: bitterly angry; but she was more angry with Fanny for having received such an offer than for refusing it. It was an injury and affront to Julia, who ought to have been Mr. Crawford’s choice; and, independently of that, she disliked Fanny, because she had neglected her; and she would have grudged such an elevation to one whom she had been always trying to depress.

Mrs. Norris is DETERMINED to put Fanny down, as the scapegoat, and is offended that one of her golden children (her emotional stand-in) is shown less honor in this situation than the scapegoat. For the scapegoat to be elevated and her narcissistic stand-in to be neglected induces a narcissistic rage.]

“Sensibility” and High Sensitivity

In the 18th century, a theory and “culture of sensibility” grew up in places like Britain, France, Holland, and the British colonies. Encyclopedia.com’s article on sensibility states, “Sensibility (and ‘sensible’ and ‘sentiment’) connoted the operation of the nervous system, the material basis for consciousness.” But the workings of the nervous system, they believed, affected more than just the physical body. Some people, it was held, had greater sensibility than others: their nerves were more easily affected by not only physical but also emotional and moral input, and they responded accordingly--not just in word and in deed, but in tears, blushes, trembling, fainting, etc. It was believed that people’s emotional responses AND physical responses could tell you something about their physical AND moral makeup. A truly modest woman, for instance, would blush and look confused when confronted with something that offended her maidenly modesty. A woman--or indeed, man--who was truly moral and “sensible” would be emotionally affected by something sad, such as a tale of oppression, to the point of openly weeping. A heroine of sensibility would most likely faint if threatened with something she found, not only physically frightening, but morally abhorrent (such as a forced marriage). This is part of the reason for what seems to use like excessive emotional reactions in some 18th-century novels: the writer is demonstrating her characters’ moral superiority through their physical sensibility.*

[*Footnote: Encyclopedia.com adds, “The coexistence of reason and feeling was assumed, but the proportion of each was endlessly debated, above all because of what many saw as the dangers of unleashed feelings... [After the French Revolution,] The debate over the proportions of reason and feeling in persons of sensibility was politicized, and the need for women to channel their feelings toward moral and domestic goals was reemphasized. The word ‘sentimental,’ which had been used positively, became a label for ‘excessive sensibility’ and self-indulgence.” We can see this conflict clearly in Austen’s Sense and Sensibility!]

There is, in fact, a modern equivalent to the 18th century idea of sensibility: the concept of the Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) or Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS). First proposed by Elaine Aron's book The Highly Sensitive Person (1996), the theory suggests that SPS

is a temperamental or personality trait involving "an increased sensitivity of the central nervous system and a deeper cognitive processing of physical, social and emotional stimuli". The trait is characterized by "a tendency to 'pause to check' in novel situations, greater sensitivity to subtle stimuli, and the engagement of deeper cognitive processing strategies for employing coping actions, all of which is driven by heightened emotional reactivity, both positive and negative". (wikipedia)

While some people have mocked this theory as pseudoscience, Aron is by no means the only researcher to have studied it, and a great many people who suffered from people telling them “You’re too sensitive” when they were hurt have taken comfort in the positive affirmation that high sensitivity is a natural phenomenon and can even at times be regarded as a strength rather than a character flaw.

It seems to me that there is a good deal of overlap between those who self-identify or may be identified as HSPs and those who have C-PTSD. Whether this is because greater emotional sensitivity leads to a greater incidence of traumatic responses to negative experiences, or whether high sensitivity is itself a product of repeated childhood trauma, I can’t say. (Heck, it could even be that the HSP’s belief that they’re over-sensitive comes from childhood gaslighting!)

What I can say is that Fanny Price exhibits, not only hypervigilance, but also what Austen would call “great sensibility” and I would call “SPS”. Fanny has the greatest sensibility of any character in the entire novel, even Edmund: she judges more clearly on moral matters than Edmund or Sir Thomas, and has the strongest physical and emotional reactions to stimuli. She seems to be constantly blushing, trembling, or tearing up. This is not only painful to modern readers (who, if they’re not pained by sympathizing with her, may well be pained by what seems to them a lack of proper 21st-century backbone in a main character) but is clearly highly uncomfortable at times to Fanny herself. She might be able to pride herself on her moral discernment (not that Fanny would EVER pride herself on ANYTHING), and she may be in transports of happiness when something good, like William’s arrival or promotion, occur, but she is often “cast down” as well by things that seem to others like trifles. We see this not only in her hypervigilance but also in the depression and the black-and-white thinking which are often the products of trauma. Edmund observes to her, “It is your disposition to be easily dejected and to fancy difficulties greater than they are.” Fanny’s apparent high sensitivity may be just a natural trait (made worse by trauma) or may itself be a product of trauma.

Conclusions

At the end of all this, I’m really not sure what I think about Fanny’s “happy ending”. On one hand, she gets what she’s always wanted in life: companionate marriage with Edmund, valued by Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram, with Mrs. Norris (and Maria) gone forever, and Julia and Tom chastened and better behaved. It seems perfect for her. But a little voice inside of me keeps saying how very unlikely it is. People rarely change as much as Sir Thomas does in the book--and in fact, we are only assured by Austen that Sir Thomas comes to value Fanny more: we don’t actually SEE it. I can’t help but feel that Fanny must still have been subject to ongoing gaslighting about how she was brought up and about respect toward Mrs. Norris and himself. Fanny got what she thought she wanted, but at the same time, she didn’t get free. Especially considering that Austen goes out of her way to say that things COULD have turned out differently and that Fanny and Crawford COULD have been happy together, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Fanny had ended up with the ONLY person in the entire book who truly recognizes how badly she has been treated at Mansfield Park:

[Crawford]: And they will now see their cousin treated as she ought to be, and I wish they may be heartily ashamed of their own abominable neglect and unkindness.

#jane austen #mansfield park #trauma #c-ptsd #literature #tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk

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night-eagle-flight · 4 years

Text

Hidden Gem Chapter 1

Some characters may be a tad OC but I tried to keep them close to their personalities. Connor will be in this story but he won’t appear for a short sec. Hope you guys enjoy!

You had spent the day wandering the street of New York, carefully avoiding the puddles that were left behind from the recent rain. Your pale (F/C) dress flowed as your pace quickened to get home.

“My lady,” said one of the guards as you arrived outside the gated home, “Master Haytham is waiting for you in his quarters.”

You nodded and thanked him as you rushed inside. The house was an average size and the décor made you cringe slightly due to it collecting some dust over a couple of days. Once you arrived to a highly decorated door, you took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in.”

You opened the door carefully and closed it behind you as you made your way to Haytham.

“Did you enjoy your stroll my dear?” Haytham asked from his freshly polished desk.

“I did.” You spoke softly. “This city is very different from Boston.”

Haytham looked up, “You don’t seem too happy about this move.”

You remained silent causing Haytham to let out a hard sigh, “I understand that leaving Boston was hard,” He stood up and walked towards you placing a finger gently under your chin to make you look at him, “but this will be good for you.”

He showed a small tenderness in his eyes for a split second then leaned to kiss your forehead, “I have done my best to care for you since I found you. You were lost remember?”

Your eyes prickled, “And I thank you everyday for taking me in. If it not been for you I... I probably wouldn’t have survived on my own.”

“I have seen you grow into a fine young woman and I consider you my own.” Haytham stepped away and went back to sit down on his chair, “Which is why I wanted to make sure your future was assured.”

One of your eyebrows raised slightly, “What do you mean by that exactly?”

Haytham intertwined his fingers as he leaned forward on his desk and spoke, “I have arranged for someone to take your hand in marriage.”

Your eyes widened and you dared to not speak less you wanted to anger him. Talking back was something you learned early on never to do.

“He is a good man. One of my subordinates in fact.” He smiled proudly.

You swallowed the knot in your throat but still felt it constricting, “May I ask who it is I am marrying?” Internally your mind yelling, “Please not Lee or Hickey. Please!”

“Now why would I want to spoil the surprise?” He said coyly, “I am sure you can wait a day to find out. He is coming here to meet you, after all this is his home.”

You felt the color on your face drain slightly and quickly bowed your head, “I-I look forward to meeting him.”

Haytham decided to ignore your distaste of the plans that were made and instead stacked his paperwork and stood up once again, this time taking hold of his tricorn hat.

“Let’s head out for a shop to pick out a new dress for you.”

“But this one is my favorite dress.” You thought but opted to say, “It has been a while since you joined me to shop.”

“This is important.” Haytham said matter of factly. He walked passed you and you followed, “Things must go smoothly.”

A carriage was brought out for the both of you and soon you were sitting in comfortable silence.

“(Y/N).”

You looked at Haytham as he spoke, “You must be at your best behavior for this.”

“I will.” You said feeling yourself adjust to sit up properly.

Etiquette. Rules. Order. That’s all you’ve ever known since the day Haytham saved you from starvation as a child. You wanted to speak out from time to time but to go against him made a tinge of guilt rise. He had given you so much and you felt that you owed him your obedience. He could have easily left you in that filthy alley or an orphanage.

“No need to look so grim.”

You snapped out of your daze and smiled, “I apologize. I was only lost in thought.”

Haytham looked out the window for a second, “How would you like to get some chocolate after we pick out your dress. It has been a while since we have treated ourselves.”

You smiled with a matching eagerness on your face, “I would love that.”

Once both of you arrived to the dress shop, you knew you wouldn’t be the one to pick out your dress.

“How about this one?” You asked Haytham.

“I forbid you from showing any ankles, elbows, and.... ABSOLUTELY not that!” Haytham encircled your waist and pulled you away from the newest trend of low cut dresses, “You are a respectable young lady and are to dress like one.”

You sighed in slight annoyance.

“Do not start with that tone again.” His serious tone making your eyes widen and stop immediately.

You bowed your head and spoke softly, “I am sorry. Please. Tell me what you believe is appropriate for me to wear for my husband to be?”

Haytham stared you down, “Look at me when you say that.”

You felt your anger rise but it faltered when you looked at Haytham’s eyes, “I.... I am sorry. P-”

“What are you sorry for?” Haytham asked abruptly.

You felt embarrassed as people began to talk and snicker. You once again swallowed that knot that was forming in your throat, stood tall, looked Haytham in the eyes, and spoke with a bit more firmness, “I am sorry for being ill behaved. Please, tell me what it is that I should wear to meet my husband to be.”

“Better.” Haytham stated as he grabbed a dress that was next to him, “This one here will do.”

Your hand touched the red skirt and your fingers slid over the black embroidery design. A large black bow decorated the back alongside the red straps that crisscrossed towards the top of the dress.

Haytham didn’t wait for your reply and soon you were in the carriage again headed for a small confections shop.

“Thank you for the dress.” You said attempting to break the silence.

“We will be going over how you will act when your fiance arrives once we get home.” He looked at you, “A wife must keep the standards of the house hold and please her husband.”

“I understand.”

“Once we arrive for some confections, I expect you to pick out a proper gift for him.” Haytham at last smiled a bit, “Chocolate helps ease tension wouldn’t you say my dear?”

You put on a fake proper smile, “Yes it does.”

You didn’t think picking out chocolate confections would be hard but you should have known better. Especially with Haytham’s standards.

“That’s too small dear, pick something else.” He said the first time.

“The wrapping is all wrong on this one.” He said the second time.

“Well this looks good enough for a pig.” He said a third time.

You held in your sigh because you knew what he wanted you to ask.

“Can you please help me pick out a gift?” You asked while mentally saying, “Why did you want me to pick if you were going to pick in the first place.”

Haytham smiled and beckoned you to follow, “I believe this would be appropriate.”

You had to admit that the craft of it was impeccable, “I am surprised they managed to make a ship out of chocolate.”

“Yes.” He said beckoning the shop owner, “It’s very similar to the ship he captains.”

Once the purchases were made you both headed back home where it was lesson after lesson about wife etiquette into the early hours of the night for you. Most were things you already knew but at this point it was like they were only trying to drill it further so it became second nature.

As you were brushing your hair in front of a small vanity you saw the dress in the mirror. Slowly you glared at it but the anger slowly dissipated to sorrow. Small tears began to prick in your eyes but your quickly rubbed them away when there was a firm knock on your door.

Haytham strolled in and sat on your bed as he stared at you from your mirror.

“Was there something I missed?” You asked as you turned around to meet his gaze.

“Nothing. Just remembering when you were a child, is all.” He stood up and walked before you, taking the brush from your hands and turning you so he could brush your hair.

Your shock didn’t go unnoticed as you heard a quiet chuckle, “Just remembering old times my dear.”

It remained quiet for a second as Haytham finished brushing your hair. You noticed him pulling something out of his pocket and begin to put it around your neck.

“This necklace was a gift sent ahead of time before your fiance’s arrival.” He placed the clasp and stepped back, “He knows it is you he will marry once he sees it.”

You placed a hand over it, “I’ll thank him properly when I see him.”

Haytham nodded, “Then I bid you goodnight. Rest well.”

“Goodnight.” You said.

When you heard the door click you looked down at the red cross at the end of the necklace. It didn’t take long to realize it was similar to the one Haytham had on his ring since the day you met. You decided to go to bed wearing it so you wouldn’t forget to put it on in the morning, but sleep seemed to evade you for that night. It couldn’t be helped when the tears started rolling down your eyes.

#connor kenway x reader #assassinscreed3 #connor kenway #insert reader #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor x reader

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abrunettefangirlnerd · 4 years

Text

New Years

One-shot

Pairing: George x reader and Draco x reader

Prompt: You’re dating Draco but aren’t happy in the relationship. You’re spending New Years Eve at the burrow, and with your best friend George Weasley. George just so happens to be in love with you.

A/N: This is a change from my normal fandom writings. Hope you enjoy!

I watch as the Weasley’s fuss over each other’s new year resolutions. Every year they all come up with something they want to accomplish the next year. It is more of a muggle tradition but Mr. Weasley loves the idea, and the rest of them decided to go along with it. The twins become so passionate as they explain the plans for the joke shop that they finally have enough money to buy. Molly’s worried look lingers behind her eyes at the possibility of their dream not panning out. She is one of the most loving and caring mother’s I have had the pleasure to meet.

My eyes focus on the fire and my thoughts wander to my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. He was staying with some family nearby where I live to see me over the holidays. Though strangely, in the week he decided to stay I only got to see him twice. I planned both of them, and he didn’t bother to see if I wanted to meet on Christmas or Christmas Eve. He wanted to go back home for New Years. But he hates being home, it’s something I just can’t understand.

Most of my life I wanted to finally have a boyfriend. I always watched the couples in the halls of Hogwarts with a longing heart. Any muggle romance book and movie just continued to make me more picky of who I wanted. Least that is what my friends have always said. Somehow wanting a man who is also my best friend is asking too much. Where we want to spend a lot of time together, but can stand being without each other. I can’t stand clingy, but I do want some attention.

We talked a bit over the summer and went on a few dates. I really liked him, and I thought he really liked me. School starts and we can’t see each other as much, which makes sense. Now anytime we communicate or make plans it is because of me reaching out. I hardly feel like I have a boyfriend these days. Even with my little experience I know I need to talk to him about it, but as soon as the topic is brought up he states he likes the arrangement and then changes the subject. Leaving me with the unspoken words left on my lips. Maybe I am just asking too much?

He is walking me back to my front door after hanging out with some of his friends. We aren’t holding hands, which I think I should want. But this whole night I haven’t wanted to be touched. At some point we ended up at a restaurant and every once in a while Draco’s hand would rub against my upper back. The first time we hung out this week he didn’t touch me till our hugs goodbye. I wonder if the very little interactions has put me off from wanting his touch.

“What is just so great is that you don’t need my attention.” I try not to react. Instead I think about what he has said about his exes texting him until he would answer. “My mom agrees. You’re so independent it is really nice. Oh by the way I’m heading back home in the morning.”

“So you won’t be here for New Years?” I sneak a glance at him to see if he’ll realize. Draco’s face remains neutral, perhaps not realizing that boyfriends and girlfriends usually spend that holiday together.

“Nope, though you’ll be fine.” Draco shrugs his shoulders like he is so sure that I wouldn’t care. I open my mouth to ask why he can’t stay but I’m cut off by him talking about something Blaise said earlier tonight.

Standing in front of my front door and wonder if he’ll try to kiss me, I wonder if I want him to kiss me goodbye. What kind of girl doesn’t know if she wants her boyfriend to kiss her? Her first boyfriend. I thought I’d be giddy.

“Have a good new year’s.” Draco wraps one arm around my waist in a sort of hug. He then heads down the stairs and into the night.

My thoughts are interrupted by a certain red head twin sitting on the arm of the chair I am occupying. George peers down at me with a worried expression. He has quickly become a close friend over the last few months. I’m good friends with Lee Jordan and have known George for a few years. Since dating Draco I’ve seen a bit less of them to make Draco feel more comfortable, but I still hang out with them quite a bit. Have helped devise a few pranks.

“Your mum took the news well I see.” I smile hoping he’ll see my mask and not my conflicted eyes.

George came to me a little while ago saying he has a crush on a girl, but she has a boyfriend. He has been talking to me more often, answering my owls faster than Draco who lives closer. The way he describes this girl, sometimes I think it may be me. Every time that thought crosses my mind I shake it away. There is no way I am the girl. He talks like he is in love, that this is the one and he wants to tell her soon. Do I want it to be me?

“Everything okay, love?” George whispers close to my ear and I instantly nod in response.

“Just thinking about some stuff.” I say, trying to be as vague as possible.

Our conversations about this girl, and just things in general, has me wanting to talk to George more than Draco. George tells me stuff he hasn’t told anyone, other than Fred, and I can barely get Draco to tell me anything about himself of substance. I know Draco’s life at home isn’t great and has put up some walls. But I’ve also known Draco my whole life, we haven’t always been close but I’ve tried to show him that I am here. He won’t let me in and I am getting exhausted of trying with no encouragement or attention from him.

“Where’s Draco?” George asks as he fixes a strand of hair behind my shoulder. A warmth spreads across my face and I have to stop myself from smiling. “Isn’t there a New Year kiss tradition?”

“He went back home.” I manage with little emotion.

“Hmmm,” George’s small smile fades. “Well aren’t we lucky then. We get you this year.”

Hermione turns up the radio and music radiates through the Burrow. In the corner of the living room, I catch Mr. Weasley putting out his hand asking for a dance with Mrs. Weasley. The biggest smile lights up her face as she happily accepts his offer. Their arms wrap around each other as they disappear to their own world. A small dull ache flies through my chest. I finally have a boyfriend but I still feel lonely on holidays.

Through the room I watch people pair up. Ron with Hermione, Ginny with a surprised Harry, Fred even invited Angelina. I think George noticed the coupling up because his posture stiffens slightly. He takes a deep breath before pushing off the chair arm. I find him standing in front of me with his own hand out toward me.

“Would you care for a dance, (Y/N)?” George smiles causing you to smile. People say laughs can be contagious, but his smile is more contagious than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I place my cold hand in his and join him a few feet from the chair. The faster song is finishing up and another song quickly takes its place. Awkwardly, I look at George to see if he still wants to do this. There is no hesitation in his movements, and before I know it his free arm is wrapped around my waist. He pulls me in a respectable distance but you can see some nerves peaking behind his eyes.

He sways me back and forth, nothing special. Every once in a while he will twirl me, remembering how much I liked that during the Yule ball a year back.

A memory of Draco seeps in your mind. Back a few months ago Draco tried slow dancing with you spontaneously. It felt strained, like it wasn’t something he would try to do. I gave him points for trying and remembering how I love to dance. It was a one-time occurrence. I’ve tried to randomly start dancing around him in the hopes he would join in and loosen up, but no such luck. I decided that it just isn’t going to be one of our things.

Even with the initial awkwardness, dancing with George feels natural. Like this is how things are supposed to be. He pulls me back in from a twirl and I rest my head on his chest. I feel a twitch of his muscles and pull away realizing that I am out of line. I am with someone else. It must have just been an impulse right? People normally rest their heads on their partner’s chest, dancing partner that is. That’s it.

“No, it’s okay.” George whispers.

Even with his assurance I restrain myself. I keep my eyes focus on everyone else in the room. I see the way that Ron’s eyes sparkle as he watches Hermione smile as he twirls her. Even Harry seems to be enjoying himself. I know he is technically with Cho but I know he will end up with Ginny. Though I may be biased cause I just adore Ginny.

“If only the timing was right.” I say to myself.

“What?” George’s voice has hint of alarm.

“I’m talking about your siblings, Ron and Ginny. Ron is totally into Hermione, and Ginny has had a thing for Harry since she was eleven. But I don’t think Ron and Hermione are there yet, maybe a year or two. Harry is with Cho, for now. I can see Harry getting his head screwed on straight someday and realizing what has been right in front of him.”

George’s thumb rubs circles against my waist, sending a shiver up my spine. I really need to get a handle on my feelings. I don’t want to hurt George if I’m using him as an emotional filler for my absent boyfriend. On the side of things, I need to figure out if I should still have my boyfriend.

I take a mental note to remind myself to write him in the morning about constituting a weekly date night. It doesn’t have to be anything extravagant. A nice walk with good conversation would suffice. I just want quality time. I need to see if it is possible that I still want to be with him.

What about George? I sneak a glance up at him. He looks perfectly content, slow dancing in silence. His gaze fixed on the snow falling outside the window. My mind wanders to the past letters of conversation we’ve shared. He wants a girl to sit on the porch with during a thunderstorm, one to help carry the kids to bed when they’ve passed out on the couch.

_______ flies through my open window with a letter hanging from her beak. Getting up from my bed I make my way over hoping it is finally from Draco. I told him that since he is going to be in town during his birthday next week that I could spend as much time with him as he wants. I sent that owl, among two short ones about a week ago.

Getting closer though I recognize the address written in George Weasley’s handwriting. I let a sad smile escape my lips as I ignore the annoyance toward Draco building up. Do other girls have to try so hard to get their boyfriend’s attention?

Sitting back on my bed I take a deep breath and open his letter. A giggle stirs in my throat as I take in his messy handwriting. Recalling a time I had to help a professor decipher an assignment of his. They wanted to fail him purely on the untidiness of his letters.

“My Dear Y/N

First off, I have to tell you that in the envelop is a Weasley family Christmas card. My mum wanted to make sure we sent you one.

To answer your last letter. I agree that some girls are expecting a prince charming. Though I think some blokes aren’t willing to treat their girl like a princess either. If I somehow end up with this girl I like I want to try and give her everything she deserves and more.

I want us to carry the kids up to bed after they’ve passed out on the couch. To give her a porch she can read her books on and we can watch storms. I know we could fight like the world is ending but make up just as fast. Randomly dance with her in the kitchen as we make dinner. Make sure we get a date night a few times a month, because you should always date each other.

I am sure (Y/N) that you will find your prince charming. And that you are someone’s princess.

Love, George”

Choking on my breath, I struggle to breathe for a moment. How could any girl say no to that? It sounds like he is about ready to marry this woman one day if given the chance to love her. I feel my heart race at the small possibility that this could be me. Closing my eyes I allow myself to imagine it, everything in his letter.

Little kids running around with shiny red hair, jumping on furniture before calming down to a sleep. Me and George watching from the doorway, trying to be as quiet as possible in hopes of not waking them up. The two of us scooping them up in our arms, carrying them up the stairs into their rooms.

I’m reading on the porch. Book in hand on an outdoor couch with a blanket draped across my legs. A drum of thunder sounds off in the distance as a light rain begins to fall from the sky. Shortly after, George pokes his head out the front door with his signature grin. He asks if he can join me, like every time even though the answer is always yes. George lifts my feet up as he takes a seat and drapes them over his lap. We sit there in silence for a few moments before I slide my body over on his. I tuck my head in the crook of his neck and his arms wrap around me. Occasionally whispering about something funny the boys did, or a legendary prank, about what we love most about each other.

Snapping back to reality I groan as I think of how terrible I am. I am Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend and I am fantasizing a life with George Weasley. There is no one worse than me.

The song ends and I take the opportunity to put some space between me and the ginger. Noise crackles from the radio about the countdown. He announces that we are less than sixty seconds away from midnight. The girls squeal in excitement and Hermione quickly explains to Ron and Hermione about the muggle tradition of kissing at midnight. Of course this was explained earlier but the boys weren’t listening, as usual.

Ron and Harry agree to kiss Hermione on the cheek, but I notice the slight pink hue added to Ron’s complexion. Yeah they are definitely endgame material. Fred and Angelina take a seat on the couch, leaning into each other with the biggest smiles. They will definitely be a pair kissing at midnight.

An overwhelming, but familiar, sadness floods my chest as I take in the fact that I am alone for the New Year countdown. I make my way to the front door to get some fresh air. If I miss the countdown maybe the loneliness won’t feel as strong. It’s not that I miss him. To miss someone means that I had the opportunity to have them in my life in a way that is almost impossible to replace. Closing my eyes I can pretend that I am anywhere else perhaps even in a different time.

“Can I join you?” George’s voice appears from behind. I open my eyes and look up at the stars before nodding my head.

He slowly occupies the space beside me. His warm hand lightly brushes against my own and I have an overwhelming urge to hold it. Before another thought, George does it for me. Fingers intertwine together and I allow my head to rest against his shoulder. Shortly I feel his head rest lightly against my own. He presses a soft kiss to the top of my head causing tears in my eyes to form. Why can’t I figure this out? One problem at a time (Y/N). Figure out how I feel about Draco first.

“FIVE!!”

Their voices filter through the windows causing me to jump from George’s hold. I take a deep breathe remembering where I am.

“FOUR!”

Their shouts get louder and George calling my name gets lost behind their chaos.

“THREE!”

George steps in front of me. His gentle gaze looks onto my paralyzed eyes.

“TWO!”

My eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes. I watch him do the same.

“ONE!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

George’s hand cups my cheek. He leans down as I push up on my toes and circle my arms around his waist. Our lips meet in the middle in a soft and delicate kiss. Showing how scared we are to push our boundaries. Suddenly the cold air enveloping my body disappears and is replaced with this invigorating heat. Starting up in more core, spreading through my limbs and I know George feels it too.

His free hand strokes my hair as he pulls me in close. I reciprocate by pulling him in as well and I can feel the kiss become feverish. Our lips move together in a dance, perfectly mirroring the other’s. His lips are soft and warm, gentle. I can’t help but feel like we were made to fit with each other. That there is no one else we were made for.

Draco. His blonde hair, pale skin, and rare laugh filters through my senses. An overwhelming pressure fills my chest and I can’t breathe. I pull away from George and all the warmth escapes me. Chills run up and down my spine, one right after another with no recovery time. My breath won’t escape past my throat and I can’t manage to breathe in enough to make a difference. I look down at my hands and find them shaking along with my legs and suddenly I am on the snow covered ground.

“I think this is the one.” Draco tells me what Blaise said about us. I hear his voice to the left, but as I turn to look I see nothing but the darkness.

“My mom asked me if I could see you being the one I marry.” Draco’s voice is now to my right. Turning my head again I see nothing.

“This should end in marriage,” it’s Pansy’s voice now. “I’ve been wanting you two together for so long.” Coming from her that is a big complement.

All these people believe that me and Draco are it. The couple that ends up spending forever together. That makes each other happy, who gets married, makes a family, and eventually dies together. But all I feel is completely and utterly alone, even when with him. As far as I can tell he doesn’t feel the same. He likes our arrangement. All these people are counting on this, counting on me to make it work. Have I tried enough? Am I enough? I can’t disappoint them? But could I in turn disappoint George?

“(Y/N),” George’s gentle voice breaks through the noise in my head. I can feel his warm hand on my shoulder and I cling my hand to his. His touch grounding me to reality. “Stop thinking about what everyone wants. Forget about your friends, Draco, your family, and even me.”

His other hand rests under my chin and guides me to look up at him. To look into his beautiful shinning eyes. The eyes that can always look into my soul and never show judgement when others would. He nods his head, signaling for me to do what he says.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I see my friends before me, lined side-by-side. I watch as they progressively appear smaller and smaller, until they are so far away I can’t see them. I do the same with my family and Draco. Seeing George swallowed up by the darkness almost causes me to ache. But he is soon gone too and I am left alone to my mind.

“Think about what you want.” George’s voice sounds far away even though he is right in front of me. As if one of us is underwater and the world around is muffled. “Imagine what will make you happy. Picture what is worth being upset about. Think of what you are willing to fight for. Take your time, and when you’re ready open your eyes.”

I picture myself sitting by the fire with a book in my hand, snuggled up with a blanket. The radio playing in the distance as a waft of the delicious dinner being made in the kitchen. Sleepiness pulls at my eye lids as a pair of smooth lips grace my forehead. He hands me a cup of tea and I watch the steam roll off and into the surrounding air. I can’t see who the man is. His face is fuzzy, confirming that I am not quite sure who I want.

Now I am in the kitchen making dinner. The radio fills the room as two arms circle around my waist. He turns me around and pulls me close to his chest. We don’t speak, instead we enjoy one another’s presence as our bodies drift through the kitchen.

Next I am on the bathroom floor with tears streaming down my face. My throat is raw from our argument. Of shouting over each other as we cried through it. We’ve been fighting recently about his long hours, only wanting to hang out with the guys, and not helping much with the kids. I watch the tears fall down his face and I have an overwhelming urge to hug him. I want him to know how much I love him, how much I want him, that I need him. That I want him to love, want, and need me back. And I do. I head over to him and hug him. At first he is shocked and then hugs me back. We both say we are sorry for hurting the other and decide to work this out.

The only thing that is missing is his face.

I open my eyes and I finally feel the cool wind blow against my tear-stained cheeks. George is still in front of me. I have no idea how long we’ve been in this position but judging by my cold legs it has been a while. Color lights up George’s face as his body attempts to keep him warm, and I suppose mine appears the same.

“Don’t decide now. Think about it more. I want you to be happy, (Y/N). If you choose him, or to be single then I’ll back off. I’ll be your friend if you still want me to. If you choose me though, I will do everything I can to make you happy.” He wipes away fresh tears from my cheeks and places an innocent kiss on my forehead. “We should probably go inside. I don’t want you getting sick from the cold.”

He offers me one of his hands and I gladly take it. As he opens the door the warmth from the fire hits me in the face and I know things will be okay. I will send an owl to Draco in the morning about needing more. I’ll see if he is willing to establish a date night, and see how I feel about him after a few of them. Because of the others I can’t give up without believing I tried. I know if I decide to break up with him that I’ll want to be single for a little while. Straighten out my mind better, make sure I can be what George deserves. And I’ll let him know that, and that he doesn’t have to wait around for me. Even though I’ll secretly will want him to.

What would you decide to do?

#george weasley #george weasley fanfic #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley x you #George Weasley x I #weasley twin #george weasly #Draco malfoy #Draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #hogwarts #hogwarts boys #hogwarts fanfic #gryffindor #weasey x reader #Fred and George Weasley #Fred and George Weasley fanfic

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little-luthottie · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers & Lena Luthor, Querl Dox/Nia Nal, Eliza Danvers & Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers & Eliza Danvers & Kara Danvers Characters: Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Nia Nal, J'onn J'onzz | Hank Henshaw, Eliza Danvers, Brainy, Querl Dox, Lori Luthor, sc oc kid Additional Tags: SuperCorp, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Kidfic, supercorp kidfic, Mild Angst, but I swear it gets fluffy, they just want to have start a family, dansen isnt meantioned but assume that its happening okay, they're in LOVE your honour, Married Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, KARA AND LENA ARE MARRIED AND HAPPY, ...mostly, they sad but then they happy again, mentions of death but nothing graphic, Promise Summary:

"Its just hearing the heartbeat of their child for the first time only for it to slowly give in and there is absolutely nothing they— she with all her superpowers could do, Kara doesn’t feel any bit of the hero she’s come to be. Not a single ounce , not when their child’s vitals were slowly deteriorating and watching as Alex and Eliza flounder around for ways to stop yet another foetus from dying. Lena’s on the medical bed doing all she can to aid in keeping their child alive , even if its just to keep her own heart rate steady."

Kara and Lena are ready to expand their family but complications keep them from it. Kara's at her limit and is so close to losing hope ...

until she finds her

and then everything changes.

_______________________

The heart rate monitors beeps are slow as if trying to tell Kara she can’t stop the inevitable. That again she’ll lose someone dear. Its only their third time and they knew going in this wouldn’t easy. But Lena was determined she could do it and Kara believed in her wife.

Its just hearing the heartbeat of their child for the first time only for it to slowly give in and there is absolutely nothing they— she with all her superpowers could do, Kara doesn’t feel any bit of the hero she’s come to be. Not a single ounce , not when their child’s vitals were slowly deteriorating and watching as Alex and Eliza flounder around for ways to stop yet another foetus from dying. Lena’s on the medical bed doing all she can to aid in keeping their child alive , even if its just to keep her own heart rate steady.

This time around they’ve opted for an artificial womb. One that could support the genes of a half human and half kryptonian baby since the others…failed to. Lena’s idea after their last try and everything seemed to be going well. In fact little Lori survived far longer than her other two siblings had— yes they’d gotten enough hope to name her and now, now it feels like that hope is slowly shattering , another crack for every painfully delayed heartbeat. Its only a matter of moments before she says goodbye to her sweet girl but Kara can’t stomach the idea of being here for another flatline. Another deafening, gut wrenching beep taunting her , ripping away a future she so desperately craves. So leaves , she flies out of there fast enough that when everyone realises she’s gone , she only barely here’s the whisper of her name from Lena’s lips.

It’s the final punch to the dam before the wall completely breaks and out gushes the tears. She’s far away and at a high enough altitude not to be seen , she doesn’t think she could handle the publics questions as to why their golden girl was spotted a sobbing mess in the sky.

In that instance her eyes , though blurred by tears , find the star she once called home. Kara finds herself go silent , her chest still rising and falling rapidly but despite the shallow breaths of all the sobs she’d just erupted , she’s completely still. As if in a weird limbo , floating in the air above the city that’s seemed to have gone silent like its paying its respects to the hero and her losses.

She’s just there. Floating. Staring. Waiting. For what she doesn’t know. Her tears have ceased and its remains slowly drying on her cheeks it feels like there’s a sign waiting to be shown. That if she stays up here long enough she’ll find it , see it , hear it.

And she does. The sound of loud wailing muffled by every other sound of the night which resurfaces right as the wails start. Before Kara knows it she’s following the sound , zipping through the skies , between buildings until she finds it.

Not it, her.

There in a dilapidated cardboard box that looks about ready to fall apart is a bundle wrapped in white cloth. For a moment the blonde just freezes in her tracks , her feet hovering mere inches from the ground as she watches the baby , who seems to be barely older than a few months scream for her missing family. The moment her boots touches the concrete of the alley the child’s crying halts.

And like before there is this moment of silence , a moment of serenity between the two. Its in this moment of what feels like sizing up that Kara notices the golden wisps of blond locks flicked in wayward strands and the most enchanting green eyes. There’s this intelligent curiosity to them , and the blonde kryptonian can’t help but compare them to similar orbs she knows so well and loves.

It becomes abundantly clear what she must do. What she will do. Kara unclips her cape from her shoulders and reaches down to swaddle the bundle who feels alarming cold. However the little girl makes no sound but stares in wonder , green eyes twinkling in the dim florescent light. Once she knows the baby is tucked snuggly in her cape she takes off into the sky ,mindful of the precious cargo.

She lands at the tower once again and watches everyone hault at her presence. There’s a silence once again but this one doesn’t feel as comforting , this one she fears is filled with pity and sorrow. She wants to take off again, she can feel her heart rate start to pick up , especially at the confused and alarmed stares Alex and Eliza are giving her right now. She’s just about to take off when the small bundle shifts in her arms , eyes now closed as she sleeps soundly. For a minute Kara is stunned by how immediate the child had taken to her and couldn’t help but think how perfect she seemed not to mention the physical traits that made her seem as if somehow , in some twisted way the universe had given her , given them this precious gift.

“Kara?” Lena calls , standing a few feet off right before her. She’s in the sweatpants and old college hoodie Lena loves to wear on days she can spare to sleep in.

Karas focus is immediately brought back to reality , back to the point of why she was here , why everyone seemed concerned and she can’t believe she almost forgot. Almost.

“Look Lee just hear me out okay?” the blond says and hovers over to her wife. Lena seems exhausted and all but ready to go home but she still nods , still humours Kara anyways.

“I just- I’m sorry I left but I couldn’t take another second and I just needed a moment by myself to grieve the loss of our baby”

“Kara-“ Lena tries , but Kara’s on a role she needs to vent all of this right now or otherwise she won’t be able to explain herself properly.

“I know I left you alone in that moment and I’m sorry Lena really-“ the blonde steps forward scared Lena might leave because of it. “but I just lost it and I couldn’t understand why we keep losing them. I don’t want to keep losing them!”

Kara stops. Knowing she’s raised her voice , can see the alarm in everyone’s eyes and the sympathy. She shuts her eyes , takes a breath and focuses on the movements of the little one in her arms. When she opens them there are those curious green staring at her and its doubled when she looks from the baby to Lena. She knows Lena finally noticed the bundle , realised what it was and is now worried.

“Kara whose baby..” Lena trails off as if scared to finish that sentence in fear of what the answer will be.

And no! She’s got it all wrong. Kara would never— no matter how distraught.

“No no no! Lee this- that’s what I’m trying to tell you this baby was abandoned in an alley! I heard her cries and immediately rushed over—she was just there in this tattered box. She was confused by why the people who were supposed to love her-“ Kara consciously pulls the bundle closer , “just left and here we are-struggling to just-And I just had to do the right thing and save her but I thought what if. What if this is our chance?”

Kara is now smiling down at the little girl , whose eyes never leave her and misses the way Lena reaches for her stomach and then grabs Kara’s bicep.

“Darling I understand” the brunette says earnestly , unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “we have been through unbearable pain with the last two pregnancies and I understand your pain believe me” a tear slips down Lena’s cheek and the first instinct is to wipe it away. Lena should know its not because of her body , that there’s nothing wrong with it. There’s nothing wrong with her. So she moves in to tell her but Lena just squeezes her bicep. Those green eyes so intelligent and vibrant , shines with a knowingness Kara is so familiar with. As if she had the power to read her mind , Kara wouldn’t be surprised if Lena could though she-

What was that?.

Her train of thought out the window as Lena guides the arm not supporting the bundle to her stomach and- oh.

There it is , loud and persistent as if scolding Kara for doubting it , doubting her.

“Lori?” just the name alone makes the tears fall from Kara’s eyes once again. How could she have missed that? Her daughters heartbeat. That was once so weak is at a steady rate. Their baby made it. They’re going to have a baby!

She finds Lena’s eyes , tears falling as well , the knowingness shining so bright. Kara thinks its more the pure relief of not losing another child. She pulls her wife in , hugs her as tight as is humanly possible with one arm. She feels so happy , so filled with love and hope.

And that’s when their little guest grunts , probably shocked by the sudden confined space and Kara laughs , just pure joy ripping out from her lungs as if it was held captive there for too long.

“I’m sorry little one” the blonde loosens her grip but doesn’t let’s go of Lena. She still keeps her close. Now there’s two pairs of forest green eyes staring at her and she’s surprised by how enraptured she is by both.

“Lee I , I can’t abandon her too. Please-“

“Kara I would never do that.” Lena pushes the sides of the cape aside so she has a view of the cherub face. “its not going to be easy but we can make this work. In any case we did agree on a big family” the grin that splits onto Lena’s face is enough for Kara’s heart to feel as if it just grew that much bigger. After all these years Lena could still make her so happy , feel so loved and understood.

“Now hand her to me so I can check her vitals” Lena takes the bundle from Kara’s arms , cradles her close and steps away towards the medbay Alex and Eliza have been in this whole time eavesdropping.

“What why? Did I hurt her?” Kara immediately frowns and follows , notices now how everyone hadn’t moved since she’d flown in and now seem to have found it in themselves to move and act busy. Shameful.

“No honey but you did say you found her in an Alley and we need to see if she’s suffered any harm from it.”

“oh” is all Kara says , and watches how Lena unwraps the bundle to reveal the baby in a soft pink onesie. She still doesn’t make any cries of protest but just watches Lena with those intelligent eyes.

And Lena’s smiling. Smiling the whole time. From checking her heart rate with the stethoscope to taking her temperature with a thermometer , Lena smiles and is so gentle with the little girl it makes her heart melt.

“So I’ve got two nieces now huh” Alex remarks , nudging her side with an elbow. Kara watches as Eliza goes to aid Lena in her tests and it makes her rock back and forth on her heels for a bit.

“Yeah” Kara grins and looks to her sister with such a wide smile her cheeks are protesting. She’s giddy , she can’t even contain it. At one point tonight she’d thought she would never have this but here they are. Two girls. One on the way and one already here. Granted they would have to go through the right adoption processes but there’s no doubt that, that baby is already theirs. How could there be when Eliza rocks the child gently in her arms while Lena stands at the computer probably waiting for test results, a hand caressing her stomach while her attention is on the blonde little girl whose seem to have everyone gravitating towards her as Nia , Kelly , J'onn and even Brainy enters the room.

“despite it being so early and you guys actually have to legally adopt her still-“

“I know Alex but-“

“Hey I’m not raining on your parade okay? I know how long you’ve been waiting for this and I have every bit of faith you’ll get custody of her” Alex grabs her sisters shoulder and squeezes it gently. Kara needs more than that though , so she pulls her sister in a little too tight of a hug and laughs at the grunts Alex dramatically elates but she hugs her back nonetheless.

“so you have a name yet?” Alex asks after they pull away.

Kara turns to where their family is surrounding Lena , who is now holding the baby.

It’s the purest sight , the most wholesome. A vision of everything she has desired right before her.

“Well I need to run it by Lena first but yeah” she turns back to her sister , eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Elan”

___

hope y’all liked it uwu

#supercorp #sc fic #kidfic #sc kidfic #married supercorp #sc oc kid #lori luthor #lori danvers-luthor #mentioned #supercorp fanfic #mild angst #its soft tho #mentions of death #but nothing graphic

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tjwritesfanfics · 4 years

Text

You’re mine || jhs

+RE-POST+

Summary: BTS has been super busy with their comeback so Hoseok hasn’t seen his girlfriend in a few weeks. After he hears that you want to learn to dance, he takes it upon himself to teach you. Imagine his surprise when he finds you and Stray Kid’s, Lee Felix, in the middle of a dance lesson.

AN: I accidentally posted this when I was working on it （；^ω^）I have never deleted something so quickly while having a mini heart attack ∑(O_O;)

Bold parts are said in English

BTS Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

The new comeback was coming fast and everyone had been on edge for the past few weeks.

Yoongi barked at people for interrupting him, Jimin was pushing himself past his limits, Taehyung and Jungkook got into fights sometimes over the stupidest things, all while Namjoon and Jin tried to keep some form of peace.

Hell even Hoseok was getting frustrated that some of them couldn’t keep up with the dance moves even though they had been working on them for months.

To top it all off Hoseok had been sleeping in the dorms with the guys instead of your apartment with you.

He missed being able to walk into your apartment and you being on the couch, already in your pajamas, welcoming him with a smile and open arms. He could picture how sad you looked in your apartment alone.

Or so he hoped.

Now he didn’t like the idea of his wonderful girlfriend being alone and sad, but for the last three weeks a certain Australian dancer and rapper from another Kpop group had been showing up in all your Instagram photos and stories, even your Snapchats.

You were spending so much time with him that Hoseok was getting worried you were finding comfort in Felix because he was away.

You and Felix had been friends for a month now, after meeting him backstage at an award show. The two of you hit it off instantly, bonding over similar tastes in music and shows. It also helped that Felix speaker fluent English, which was your first language.

You knew how to speak Korean, but not with the fluency and grace of someone who was born there, so being with another English speaker made things easier for you.

After that awards show Felix would start showing up randomly at your apartment, even sometimes your dates with Hoseok, and you were too nice to make him leave. Hoseok ended up feeling like the third wheel on your’s and Felix’s date.

What if you left him for him despite being 4 years older than Felix?

Age didn’t matter to you since you were younger than Hoseok by 2 years, so what was stopping you from being with the adorable Australian with cute freckles?

While stuck in his internal battle, Jimin plopped down on the couch next to him.

“What’s wrong, Hobi-Hyung?”

When Hoseok looked at him, Jimin could have sworn he saw puppy ears that were pulled back sadly to match his pitiful pout. This was the saddest Jimin had ever seen Hoseok so it must be something big.

“(Y/N) is going to leave me.” Hoseok choked the words out. Jimin’s eyes widened.

“What?! Why!!” He just couldn’t believe that you would leave Hoseok for no reason. He had seen the two of you together and it was sickeningly sweet how happy you guys were.

“Since we are so busy I never see her anymore and she’s hanging out with Felix more than ever.”

Jimin knew how much Hoseok hated that you spent so much time with Felix, but also respected you enough to not tell you who to hang out with, even though he wanted to tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.

Jimin also knew that you would never leave Hoseok for another man.

Jimin patted Hoseok’s back. “(Y/N)’s not going to leave you for Felix, Hyung. Trust me. She sees him more as a brother, the way she sees me, Jungkook, and Tae.”

Hoseok looked up at him. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Jimin smiled. “Besides I hear she’s been looking to get into dance, but doesn’t know where to start. Maybe before we leave for tour you could teach her, spend some quality time with her.”

You wanted to learn to dance? Why did Jimin know that, but he didn’t? Hoseok decided not to think about it as he stood to go find you.

He was pretty sure you were hanging or at JYP with Felix because it was all over your Instagram story. You were watching Stay Kids practice.

Why couldn’t you come watch him practice? You wouldn’t get in his way and he would never kick you out.

Hoseok walked into the JYP building and back to the practice rooms. Thankfully no one questioned why he was there. Hoseok heard your laughter, followed by a deeper laugh, coming from the room at the end of the hall. He reached the door and peered through the door.

And he was less than thrilled with what he saw.

Felix was standing behind you, guiding your movements to some dance. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Come on you got this. One two one two.” Felix said in English moving away from you.

“I don’t know about this Felix. I have two left feet.”

“Nonsense! You’re doing great!”

Hoseok wished he could really understand what you two were saying, sure he got a few key words, but that was about it.

He also hated how happy you looked as you danced across the floor to Felix’s voice.

If he wasn’t so mad he would be very impressed with your moves especially for beginners.

You tripped over your foot and Felix caught you instantly, a light blush on his cheeks. That caused Hoseok to snap.

Bursting open the door he startled both of you, causing Felix to drop you.

“Wha- Hobi?! Don’t do that! You scared me shitless.” You rubbed your elbow that hit the ground. “Damn it Felix you didn’t have to drop me so hard.”

“Sorry I was surprised.” He extended his hand to you, which you gladly took, and helped you up.

“The one that should be surprised is me.” Hoseok crossed his arms so that he wouldn’t throw a punch at the Australian.

You and Felix exchanged confused looks.

“You? Why?”

“How do you think I, your boyfriend, feels seeing you all huggy on a cute guy with adorable freckles?”

Your eyes widened.

Hoseok was jealous of Felix.

That thought made you laugh so hard. Hoseok was taken back by your sudden laughter.

“W what’s so funny?! I I don’t think it’s funny t that you’re breaking up with me for him…. It actually makes me really sad.” You saw Hoseok trying not to cry.

You had made your sunshine cry.

Walking over to him, you hugged his chest tight. On instinct Hoseok wrapped his arms back around you.

“Sunshine,” you used his favorite nickname, “I would never leave you, especially for Felix.”

“Hey!”

“Hush.” You sent a playful glare at Felix before looking back up at Hoseok. “I am completely, utterly, stupidly in love with you. Besides I see Felix as nothing more than a little brother.”

“You mean it?” Suddenly Hoseok felt guilty for ever doubting you, but there were still a few questions he needed answered. “But then why are you spending so much time with him? Why didn’t you come to me if you wanted to learn to dance?”

You looked away sheepishly. “I knew how hard you were working and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Hoseok held you closer and kissed the top of your head. “You could never bother me.”

“WELP!” Felix started towards the door. “Guess that’s my cue to leave. See you next week (Y/N)?”

You shook your head. “No I think I’ll stick with Hobi as my dance instructor.”

Felix faked a hurt expression and clutched his heart. “But how will I ever get over you!”

“Guess you’ll have to learn.”

He smiled and left.

“You know I really hate it when you guys do that.” You laughed at his comment.

“I know.” You leaned up and kissed his lips. “So does this mean you’ll teach me the dance to Chicken Noodle Soup?”

“It’s really not that hard.”

“Don’t make me go get Felix again, he was nicer.”

Hoseok picked you up, narrowing his eyes.

“Don’t you dare. You’re mine.”

“Yes Hobi. Yes I am.”

#castlebangtan #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts reactions #bts imagine #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok #hoseok x reader #tbtsstuff #tacoadmin

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alternateafterthought · 4 years

Text

Golden Time - Part 9

> Pairing: Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Reader

> Summary: Y/N has been rescuing and recovering hybrids her entire life. Now she has inherited her grandparents hybrid sanctuary. It was a normal rescue, get the hybrid, recover him and give him a choice, stay on the sanctuary or find a life for himself. Why was this one so different?

> Genre: Hybrid!au, romance, smut, angst, fluff

> Word Count: 1988

> A/N: Hey guys... here is the next part of my Jungkook hybrid fic!! This is a little longer then my normal updates, but I am getting closer to the ending of this fic!! I really do hope you all enjoy this part and the few more until the end! ALSO those who wish to be added to an eventual tag list, please leave a comment or an ask or message me!! Thank you so much for your support!!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 10]

Jungkook was starting to notice. How preoccupied Y/N's mind was the last few days.

After she had finished the driveway with Mr Astor, Y/N had seem to lock herself in her office. And for the first time ever, she locked the door on Jungkook. The first day Jungkook had allowed Y/N her space, occupying his own time. The second day he would pass by her office door, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. On the third day he had planted himself outside her door, hoping she would opening it, even ask him in.

On the forth day, her door finally opened. Jungkook stood up straight and smiled at her. She looked tired, the bags under her eyes were very noticeable, her deep breath letting Jungkook know she hadn't been sleeping much. And from the sounds coming from her stomach, she was hungry too.

"Hey," Jungkook spoke softly, not wanting to do anything to upset her.

"Hey," Y/N smiled softly, her hand reaching out scratch his ear.

For a few moments Jungkook closed his eyes and allowed Y/N to pet him. Loving her warm hands, the heat of her body finally so close to him. Opening his eyes to look back at her, he could see she was almost relieved.

"Sorry about disappearing on you like that." Y/N whispered, hating to have put him through that. "Something came up and I wanted to get on top of it as fast as I could."

"Is everything okay?" Jungkook asked, taking her hands into his larger ones.

"I don't want to lie to you. I don't ever want to keep secrets from you." Y/N admitted. "But it seemed the Bonavich's sent someone to find you."

"Lee?"

Y/N's movement stopped. It seemed Jungkook already knew about this man. Had something happened before?

"Do you know him?" Y/N asked softly.

"He was my..." Jungkook tried to think of the right word to use for such a man. "Handler." Jungkook took a deep breath before continuing. "He made sure nothing happened to me and that I never got out of the prison they made for me."

"You know, I won't let them get you again." Y/N spoke confidently, even if quietly. "You're not going anywhere unless you want to."

"Well there is somewhere I'd like to go." Jungkook smiled now, the thought of Lee and the Bonavich's in the back of his mind for now.

"And where would you like to go?"

"Into town." Y/N was surprised by that, but let Jungkook explain. "We've almost ran out of food, and I want to try again. To go shopping with you."

"Only if your sure?" Y/N asked, taking a step back to really get a look at him.

"There's nothing to be scared of." Jungkook smiled widely, almost cheekily. "I've got you, right?"

"Yeah, you've got me."

It was like a dream. Soon they were in town, Jungkook insisting on opening Y/N's door and helping her out of the car. The swooning comments of an older couple making Jungkook blush as they walked path.

"Young men just don't open doors for their girlfriends anymore." The elder man winked at Jungkook as he opened the door for his own wife. "Keep that up and you'll live a long and happy life, young man."

Y/N allowed Jungkook to hold her hand as they walked into the supermarket, which Jungkook insisted on pushing the trolley. He had make a point that, "When you are with me, you will not have to do this. I will always help you." Y/N smiling widely as she stroked his floppy ear, trying to hide her own blushing cheeks.

Moving through each aisle, Y/N put into the trolley everything they needed, even allowing Jungkook to chose some things he found interesting. The trolley a little fuller then either of them thought it would before going to pay.

A bright familiar face greeted us at the check out. The woman from their last trip together stood in front of them with her own trolley. A man, tall, broad, a defined grey tail and grey ears atop his head, helped to pack all of the things onto the counter. 2 young men, each with a different shade of ears and tails helped the man with giggles and toothy grins. This was the family Y/N's grandfather had helped, it was good to see them.

"Miss Y/N?" The woman caught Y/N's eyes, causing the man and kids to look in her direction. "Oh, it's good to see you again."

The woman wasn't as shy about their encounter this time, wrapping her arms around Y/N. The hug lasted for a few seconds, before Jungkook's fingers intertwined with her own. The woman seemed to smile wider at that, seeing the young hybrid still there, happily.

"It's good to see you to." Y/N smiled back to the woman. "So this must be your family?"

"It is." She looked so proud of her family, looked at them with so much love. "This is my husband, Namjoon. And our sons, Jimin and Taehyung."

"Wait... I know you." Y/N's own smile widen as she looked at Taehyung closer now. The boxy grin, his bright eyes, the stripped orange and black ears and tails. "Are you still eating strawberries by the punnet?"

Taehyung blushed, looking away a little before picking something up from the trolley, a huge bucket of strawberries now in his arms. The quiet laugh to leave his lips only made Y/N's eyes soften.

"I never let go of the habit." His deep voice still caught Y/N off guard.

He couldn't be any older then she was, and yet he sounded like he was well over the age. The young man next to him couldn't have been any older then she was either, his wide eyes looking between her and his brother.

"Well it's good to see you looking so healthy." Y/N could feel Jungkook's hand tighten around hers.

"Wait, are you the Miss Y/N that helped Taehyungie?" The shorter of the brothers asked, his hands wrapping around his brothers arm. "You bought him to us right?"

When Y/N confirmed with a small nod, she was surprised as Jimin wrapped his arms around her. He would have held on longer too, if it wasn't for the bunny next to them grunting. Jimin seemed to be in another world as he looked at Y/N, but he respected the hybrids boundaries. She was his.

"We're finished," Namjoon finally spoke, setting the last back of food in his own trolley. "Would you like us to help?"

"She's fine." Jungkook grunted out, moving to stand in front of the trolley.

"Kook," The small nickname made Jungkook snap his head towards her, she had never called him that before, only ever by his full name. "It's okay."

"We can help." Jimin moved to Jungkook. "If that is alright with you?"

Jimin and Taehyung seemed to ask for Jungkook's permission. Y/N had seen it happen a lot of times, when different species of hybrids meeting, it was the alpha that got the most respect. But when in recovering or having been through recovery as Y/N knew each of these hybrids had been, it was always the prey hybrid that got the respect. To keep them comfortable.

Jungkook only nodded, allowing Jimin and Taehyung to help him unload the groceries onto the counter. Y/N standing back with Namjoon and his wife, who she quickly learnt, and would never forget, her name was Reyna.

"He looks happier." Reyna bumped her shoulder with Y/N's who only smiled.

"He seems to be. He's almost fully recovered." Y/N nodded in confirmation.

"Have you mated?" Namjoon asked, earning a sharp look from his wife. "Sorry that was too personal."

"It's okay. And no we haven't mated." Y/N watched as the 3 boys seemed to have worked out a system to move the groceries and pack them back into the trolley.

"You're questioning whether to or not." Reyna picked up.

Y/N looked from Jungkook to Reyna. She was beautiful, in every way. A kinda and open soul, anyone who came into contact with her would know she was kind. Her long hair, pulled out of her eyes, in a ponytail that went half way down her back, her delicate hand wrapped in her husbands larger one. They looked happy. Completely in love.

"It's just..."

When Y/N couldn't speak, Namjoon seemed to continue for her; "You helped his recovery and constantly wonder if he bonded with you because he really is falling in love with you, or if it's a reaction to being the first person in a long time to give him hope."

Y/N looked wide eyed to the tall wolf hybrid. How could he see all of that, how could he know all of that, from just meeting them?

"Like you, I work with hybrids. And I have seen my fair share of hybrids claim they love a human, just because they helped and showed kindness." Namjoon continued as he looked back to the 3 hybrids, Jungkook who was watching closely as Jimin showed him how to pay with Y/N's card. "Jungkook hasn't fallen for you because you showed him kindness. He has bonded with you, and for a hybrid that is rare in a human."

"You speak from experience?" Y/N found her voice, raising an eyebrow towards the happy couple.

"The best advice anyone can give, is from experience."

Soon Y/N and Jungkook were walking back out into the parking lot to their car. Reyna, Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung offering to help us, funnily enough their car was parked close to theirs. So it all worked out.

What no one expected was the body leaned against Y/N's car, patiently waiting. Y/N felt Jungkook completely tense up as he spotted the person, stopping all movement. Y/N walked a few steps ahead of him as he stood frozen in his spot before turning to look between the scared hybrid and the man who had cause him a lot of hurt.

"Miss Y/N," Lee's voice was loud, drawing their attention. "Fancy running into you here."

"Well it's obvious you were waiting for us." Y/N was quick to speak, used to his kind. "I would appreciate it if you kept some type of honesty with me. I have been nothing but honest with you."

"You caught me." Lee's smile was always too big, always too... murderous. "I have been following you. But you always seem to be... surrounded. Don't you?"

Lee's cold, dead eyes looked over the other 3 hybrids who had formed a makeshift circle around Jungkook. A wolf, a tiger and a fox, Lee looked like he had won the lottery or something.

"Maybe if you won't give me the bunny... I could have my pick of the other 3?" Lee's eyes seem transfixed on Taehyung, a tiger for him was like gold.

"Oh I am sorry to inform you, they are not for sale." Y/N's voice was light, soft, too polite.

"I could make you a great offer."

Lee stepped forward, Y/N noticing his own bodyguards around him stepping forward with him. Y/N counted 6 men, all human, all massive and bulky. Honestly it was a wonder they could move with all that muscle.

"My apologise Mr Lee." Y/N spoke again, taking a stance between Lee and the hybrids. "I didn't realise you had no idea what the word 'No' actually means."

Lee's hand twitched, the corner of his mouth twitched into an almost smirk. He really hadn't been told no much in his life. His poor parents really spoilt him.

"I won't offer again, Miss Y/N." Lee's voice had completely turned, causing a small but very noticeable whimper to leave Jungkook, causing Y/N to completely steel herself. "I will have what I want."

"And I don't bend to the will of every spoilt brat that mummy and daddy never told them no." Y/N's eyes completely turned, causing Lee to step back in his own shock. "Now to keep things simple and honest, if you come back around near my place, near my hybrids, near my family... I will not hesitate to take actions into my own hands." This caused Lee to smirk. "The same laws that keep us safe, also allow me to protect my own. And I will protect what is mine."

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aspoonofsugar · 4 years

Note

I was happy to discover you are in ATLA fandom too. Could you please share your thoughts on Azula? I like your analyses

Hello anon!

Thank you very much for the nice words and for this ask! I love Azula!

I think Azula’s character explores the idea of control:

In The Avatar State, she is shown training to master “lightening”. There, it is shown how losing control of even a small detail, like a lock of hair, is enough to make Azula angry.

It is not by chance that such a scene occurs in an episode focused on the Avatar State. As a matter of fact the Avatar State and the lightening can (partially) be compared when it comes to Aang and Zuko’s stories in book two. This book opens up with Aang trying to enter the Avatar State and with the lightening being introduced thanks to Azula’s character. What is more, both Aang and Zuko try to get a hold of the two different techniques throughout the season. Finally, both skills need for the user to “let go” of their feelings.

In particular, when it comes to the lightening, there are two different ways to interpret this:

Iroh: There is energy all around us. The energy is both Ying and Yang. Positive energy and negative energy. Only a select few firebenders can separate these energies. This creates an imbalance. The energy wants to restore balance and, in the moment the positive and negative energy come pressing back together, you provide release and guidance...creating lightening. (...) Remember, once you separate the energy you do not command it. You are simply its humble guide.”

Iroh: “Lightening is a pure expression of fire-bending without aggression. It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is. Some call lightening the cold blooded fire. It is precise precise and deadly, like Azula. To perform the technique requires peace of mind.”

On one hand Iroh’s description is interesting because it is as if creating lightening is a process of synthesis. You separate opposites and have them come back together, so that they can gain a new form. So it makes sense that, thematically, this new synthesis can happen only if the character overcomes their inner turmoil. This is also why Zuko is not able to learn the skill:

Iroh: “You will not be able to master lightening until you have dealt with the turmoil inside you.”

Zuko: “What turmoil!?”

Iroh: “Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away.”

In order to acquire it, he should let go of his shame, but he can’t do it. The fact that “shame” is what stops Zuko from making progress is interesting. As explained by Guru Pathick, thus, the fire chakra is the chakra of will and it is polluted by shame.

On the other hand the lightening is called cold-blooded firebending because it can be realized only by benders whose emotions are kept in check. I would argue that this is the reason why Azula is able to use this skill. It is not that she has reached a level of emotional maturity which lets her become a “humble guide” to the energy. It is just that she constantly represses her feelings. This repression gives the idea that she is in perfect control, but this impression is a superficial one and it is proven wrong towards the end of the story.

In short, Zuko is not able to use lightening because of his explosive emotions, while Azula is able to because she restricts her feelings. Let’s highlight that this difference between the two siblings comes up again in a key episode aka The Beach:

Once again Zuko’s emotions are in full display. He is angry and nervous. He might not know why, but he is. Moreover he is finally able to express himself thanks to a confrontation with the other members of the group. Finally he does so while a giant fire erupts to highlight the catharsis of the moment. When it comes to Azula, she too opens up a little. In particular, she lets this slip:

Azula: I don't have sob stories like all of you. I could sit here and complain how our mom like Zuko more than me. But I don't really care. My own mother... thought I was a monster... She was right of course, but it still hurt.

Azula thinks that Ursa saw her as a monster. It is clear that the unsolved issues with her mother have left a sign on her. However, when she has the chance to truly let it all out, she does not. She changes the tone of the conversation and immediately leaves the topic. However, this does not mean that she is not troubled. If anything, her emotions keep burning behind a cold exterior, exactly like the fire, which burns under the ashes. Almost invisible, but still there.

About this, let’s consider two things.

1) In The Beach episode, Azula does something similar here:

Azula: “Come down to the beach with me. Come on! This place is depressing.”

Zuko starts talking about their past and their family, but Azula does not engage in the conversation and tells him to leave.

2) When Azula opens up, the others do not challenge her. They do not ask her what she meant nor they try to contradict what she said. This is different from what they have just done with each other. All in all, Zuko openly provokes Ty Lee and Ty Lee, Zuko and Azula all provoke May, until she shouts. Finally, all the girls keep asking Zuko who he is really angry with, until he is finally able to answer.

These two considerations can be linked to more general ideas.

a) Azula is a person who needs to always be in control. This has two consequences. The first is that she never lets herself be vulnerable. She is always on guard and closed up to others. The second is that she is like a fish out of water when there is nothing to control.

This is made clear in the episode The Beach:

Zuko: “Doing nothing is a waste of time. We are being sent a way in a force vacation. I feel like a child.”

In this episode, Azula and the others are given a break. However, Azula, just like Zuko, is not really able to take a break.

She is on an island and should relax, but the only way she manages to do so is by finding new enemies:

She must continually challenge herself and must change everything in a competition (and win it) in order not to face how empty she feels. This is why, in the end, her solution to the insecurities the beach re-awakens in her is to trash a party. She can’t fit in a group of pampered teenagers, so she ruins their evening. However, what Azula should really do is to try to understand why she does not fit.

The episode shows that Azula is ignorant when it comes to casual relationships:

Azula: “I am so used to people worshipping us”.

Ty Lee: “They should!”

Azula: “I know and I love it. But for once I just wanna see how people would react to us if they did not know who we were.”

She says so directly. She has been worshipped all her life. However, this means she does not know how people react to her outside of her role as a princess and a military leader.

The military aspect is especially interesting because, even if she does not disclose her identity as a royal, her attempts to bond are all centered around military topics:

Azula: “That's a sharp outfit, Chan. Careful, you could puncture the hull of an empire-class Fire Nation battle ship, leaving thousands to drown at sea. Because... it's so sharp.”

Azula: “Together you and I will be... THE STRONGEST COUPLE IN THE WHOLE WORLD! We will dominate the Earth!”

Her life has been a long training session for war, so she does not really know anything else. This is obvious both in how she can’t talk about other things and in how she sees others not like people, but like enemies/rivals.

This is also why the vacation in Amber Island could have been very important if Azula had been able to properly capitalize on it. All in all, The Beach is the episode where Azula is shown the most vulnerable (not counting the finale where she has a complete break-down).

She tries to change her approach to go along with others:

Azula: “Well that sounds really shallow and stupid...Let’s try it!

She openly apologizes and shows her insecurities:

“Look...maybe I just said it because I was a little...jealous.”

However, all of this is not enough to change the trajectory of her arc. Why is that so? This has to do with another aspect of Azula’s controlling tendencies. As a matter of fact not only does she controls herself, but also others.

b) Azula is presented since the beginning as a highly manipulative character. Manipulation is at the root of all her major relationships:

Zuko:You lied to me!

Azula: Like I've never done that before.

She lies to Zuko to catch him and forces Ty Lee to join her through manipulation. Moreover most of her plans rely on manipulation and lies. However, if you try to control and manipulate others you are unable to build healthy relationships.

This is what happens to Azula. As stated above, nobody replies to Azula when she opens up. Zuko could have very easily told her Ursa loved them both. May and Ty Lee could have tried to comfort her somehow. However, nobody does. And nobody does because they are all scared of Azula. In her attempt to control everybody, Azula has negated herself the chance to have a relationship among equals.

What is more, it is clear that it is impossible to fully control others. The Beach starts to show this through Azula’s attempts to flirt. Without her status as a princess, her peers do not behave like she wants. She might be able to hook up with a guy by rehearsing and applying a strategy. However, building a relationship is not a military operation. It is not something that can be done through control, but only through respect and trust.

Azula fails to do so and this is why she is left behind by others. She is left behind by Zuko who breaks free from their father. She is left behind by Mai and Ty Lee who choose healthier relationships over the one they have with her. After she loses them, Azula starts spiralling out of control and burns everything around her.

In short, I would say that Azula’s main flaw is “control”. She wants to control everyone, herself included. So in the end she is betrayed and left behind by people and she herself loses control:

Ursa: I think you're confused. All your life you've used fear to control people. Like your friends Mai and Ty Lee.

Azula:Well what choice do I have? Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me.

This is especially tragic because it is clear that Azula’s behaviour is her answer to an environment where a clear line was drawn between winners and losers. Azula has always been Ozai’s favourite, but Ozai has never loved her. He loves Azula’s talent, so Azula cultivates those qualities which make her accepted by her father. What is more, Ozai is not a character who values feelings or emotions, so Azula represses these aspects of herself.

In conclusion, I think Azula is a very tragic character and that her spiral was very well written and realistic. I also think that in the series itself she has shown the potential to change for the better, but this possibility has not been explored. I mean, if she had no guilt nor regrets about her behaviour, she would not have seen the hallucination of her mother calling her out.

These are more or less my major thoughts on Azula. There are probably many other things to add, but as far as my generic impressions of her go, this is what I have to say. Feel free to make more specific questions! I love her!

Thank you for the ask!

#atla #azula #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

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nolongerironicteenwrites · 4 years

Text

three years pt 2

read it here or on my Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolongerironicteen/works or read my other works too

You put your car in park and sighed. Finally, you were home after longer than you wanted to admit. But you were happy nonetheless. Which meant you were finally going to address the elephant in the room with Neji. Instead of texting till three am you could finally discuss what you were. You looked at your parents' house in front of you as you got out of the car.

“(Y/N)!” your mom called from the open kitchen window.

You smiled wide and you trekked up the driveway. The house was quiet save your mom’s washing in the kitchen. You found your way in there and gave her a huge hug.

“Where’s dad?”

“In the backyard, he’s doing some gardening and collecting the vegetables for me. You can go see.”

You figured unpacking your car can wait for later. You wanted to go see your dad. You kissed your mom on the cheek before going outside. You were thrown through a loop to not see your dad, but see your friends all there.

“Welcome home!” they shouted.

You doubled back smiling before rushing to hug them all. You were overwhelmed. You might have only seen them like two weeks ago you were happy to be home. Even if it was only a little while.

“We missed you.” Naruto laughed pulling you in for another hug.

“We saw her like a week ago?” Sai replied, confused.

You ruffled Sai’s hair when a set of arms wrapped around your middle. You tensed up before smelling the familiar smell of cigarettes.

“Traitor.”

“For?” Shikamaru asked.

“Dating my keyboard player. Smoking. Or where you spending time with Azuma seeing your godchild?”

“The latter.”

You rolled your eyes and he let you go but not without rubbing his cheek to yours and pulling away. You huffed and backed away. You didn’t get far before bumping into something cold. A set of hands-on the back of your elbows.

“You got a tattoo?”

Neji.

You spun around and checked out the inside of your elbow blushing.

“I uh yeah. I have four actually.”

He looked impressed. Not deterred, he grabbed your arm and saw the grl pwr tattoo on the inside of your elbow. You and Temari have matching ones since you two were two women who basically front a band. You have three others. You have a paper airplane on the back of your shoulder, a galaxy piece on your side, and on your thigh, there was a storm cloud that under a UV or blacklight made the lighting bolt shine. Neji smiled at you. You heard someone gag behind you. You had the vaguest feeling it was Kiba. You turned around and pulled your eye and stuck your tongue at him. He hugged you and you laughed.

You spent the afternoon with your friends and parents until you were nearly falling asleep where you sat. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you let yourself relax against Neji. The night grew colder and the party moved inside. It quickly became a quiet night after that, movies and drinks and crashing on the couch. Well you crashed on the couch everyone else went home to Shikamaru’s to get their car or ride home. Neji once everyone was ready to go brought you to your bedroom and kissed you goodnight before leaving.

“Are you going to ask her?” Lee asked.

“Ask her what?” Sai asked guiding Ino to Shikamaru’s.

“Ask (Y/N) out properly.”

Neji glared at Lee and pulled his jacket closed. He ignored the question which Shikamaru didn’t like. He imposed himself over Neji but Neji was just slightly, only slightly taller. Shikamaru crossed his arms and glared. Which in itself is nerve-inducing.

“Well, Neji what are your plans with my best friend?”

“If you must know, I like her. Clearly. So I wish to ask her out.”

“Hurt her and your ass is mine.”

“I don’t like you like that at all but I would never, I’m not Koma.”

Shikamaru gave one glare and then nodded. Neji waisted until he looked away to silently release his breath.

“There’s your answer Lee. Be safe getting back you guys text the group when you all make it back home.” Shikamaru waved before going inside.

Neji gathered Hinata, Naruto, Lee, and TenTen and headed to everyone’s respective homes. He and Lee lived together, Hinata and Naruto lived together, and TenTen lived in the same building at Neji and Lee. Neji didn’t let anyone talk on the car ride back. He didn’t wish to speak about his love life with anyone anymore. Once in the comfort of his own apartment he let his hair down and groaned.

“Neji- I’m sorry. You guys were just so cozy.”

“Lee I’m not upset with you. I mean you were just speaking about what you saw.” Neji replied while pulling off his jacket. “She’s back for a year while some of her bandmates finish school. I have time but no time when I can’t even talk to her about my feelings!” Neji flopped onto the sofa neglecting to take off his shoes.

“You could talk maybe Guy and Kakashi-sensei.” Lee sat by him.

Neji didn’t hate that idea. It would have been better than talking to his own father. Not that he didn’t want to, but he didn’t think his dad could help. His mom made the first move on his dad. But with Guy-sensei it was an accident with him and Kakashi but probably better advice than his father so maybe Lee was onto something there.

menace to sobriety

the boulder

Neji and I are home.

tippy

As am I.

eyes

Naruto and me too.

glasses

Kiba is drunk on the floor of his house crying to Akimaru about the boy in facepaint?

fur culture

traitor!

pencil ****

Ino and Sakura are trying to dye their hair.

*eye roll*

They’re getting along?

pencil ***

sauske isn’t here to fight over. i'm on watch duty..

omnipotent friend

dont let them make bad choices they’ll regret in like 5 minutes.

*eye roll*

or you could.

omnipotent friend

ill remove you

*eye roll*

not ur chat

fur culture changed the admin to omnipotent friend

*eye roll*

im in danger

The chat died down after that and you fell back asleep. Neji laughed. This chat has bounced admin to admin and the nicknames change often enough to keep anyone entertained. Neji himself got ready for bed. Rock Lee stayed up a bit longer than him to do some work for his up-and-coming school week. He was student teaching this week.

The next morning everyone woke to a few changes in the group chat. You changed a few nicknames and the title

the void calls me forth

gremlin

(y/n)! how dare you call me a gremlin.

void keeper

bc im not kiba and you will not bully me

pretty boy

im pretty?

sai-duck

i like this more.

fur culture

I deserve this honestly. All though these were good changes. neji is pretty, sai clever pun and shikamaru deserved it. you should have been this admin from the start

whoji

we told you that from the start, and two she came up with half the original nicknames

the boulder

teenagers scare me.

You snorted and walked down the stairs. Kiba just accepted his fate. It was almost perfect. Your mom left you a note about her plans for the day. Your father was there for the day but he was engrossed in work. You ate something quickly and popped your head in to say hello to him. He waved at you and went about your day.

n. hyuuga

Good morning. Can you meet me at The Blossom for coffee?

you

sure. totally. see you in ten?

n. hyuuga

Yes. Of course. Cannot wait.

You smiled to yourself walking down the stairs. Your mom was gone for the day. You could hear the television on. You popped your head in to see your dad watching a show about rocks. You smiled while he just read in his rocker the noise in the background. You leaned on the frame waiting for him to notice you. It takes him a moment before he looks up from his book and he smiles.

“What’s up buttercup?”

“I’m going to get coffee, do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head no.

“Go have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss. Walking into the kitchen you grabbed your jacket and purse off the coat rack. You slipped your phone into your jacket pocket and started on your walk. The great thing is The Blossom was a five-minute walk from your house. The walk, while short, gave you time to reflect. You thought about Neji. You probably always liked him, it went through phases where you liked him more than a friend, but then Koma happened. That six months of your life where Neji didn’t cross your mind. But now it all seems to be falling into place.

As you approached the cafe, Neji was already there. He looked beautifully aloof. You quietly walked up to him while he scrolled on his phone. His light skin contrasting against his dark hair and the bright red t-shirt and checkered pants to match. You honestly were a mixture of both impressed and intimidated by him. He always looked like he had his life together. You looked down at yourself and how you were dressed. You layered tights under overalls with a baggy sweater on top. You felt like you weren’t dressed well enough to compete with him. He looked up at you and smiled. He gently pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. You weren’t sure what you two were but you were content.

“This is my treat, come on.” He smiled opening the door for you, “I picked this place because no one would come here or neither do I think our friends care enough to find us. This place has chai lattes and oat milk which I know are your favorites.”

You smiled, cheeks becoming redder.

“You remembered?”

“Of course,” he responded. It’s because I love you. But he didn’t let her know that.

You held onto the crook of his elbow whilst he ordered. He ended up ordering for both of you while you had a small smile on your features. He ordered the chai latte for you and a simple London fog drink. You weren’t expecting that. As if he read your mind.

“I had a small cup of coffee before I decided to ask you out. Do you want anything else?” he asked.

“Do you want to split a coffee cake?”

Neji nodded. His eyes lit up like you hung the stars in the sky. You felt very on par with Neji, finally. You and he walked over to a table situated in the corner by the window. It was a kind of chilly morning for how early in September that it was. You rested your head on your hand looking between him and the window before you asked.

“Don’t you work on Monday? Like a new startup position at a family-owned accounting firm?” You asked, smirking.

Neji smiled at your question crossing his legs and leaning over to rest his head on his hands, thinking for a moment to formulate an answer for you.

“Yes but technically no. My days got changed because I’m going back to school for my masters so my uncle has me working sparingly.”

“Your masters? That’s great!” you smiled excitedly.

He looked very bemusingly at you. He offered a hand to you to hold across the table. The two of you shared the cake and drinks in silence. No need to talk currently. The two of you spoke sparingly and worked on individual projects. You worked on songs and he worked on some classwork.

“Neji. What are we?” you asked.

The keyboard clicking stopped. You felt your body tense. Had you pushed a boundary? He was hesitating and you were getting progressively more anxious. He started wringing his hands, but you quietly waited for him to answer you. Seconds felt like hours to you waiting.

“I-I knew this was coming but I-” He sighed softly, “I was just trying to feel out how you felt before I spoke to you about me.” Neji explained, “(Y/N) I have liked you probably since I was fifteen. But our lives never seemed to line up. Call it destiny if you will always seem to escape me. I dated, you dated. I got scared of my feelings for you but not anymore I can’t. I don’t want to. I- I want to take care of you, and be with you and support you.” He ended up just muttering to himself.

Your heart clenched watching him. You smiled that he was being honest with you. Even though he was avoiding your eye contact. You reached out to grab his hand to get his attention. He slowly let you coax his hand into yours while you figured out how to respond.

“Thank you, Neji for being honest with me. I know how you feel. You bore your feelings to me for how you feel. I accept your feelings.” you replied, smiling. “And I- I would love nothing more than this to work out. It would need work. Between music and you being in school again it won’t be easy, and I’m sorry for that. I wish I can be more for you.”

“You’re perfect enough.” He brought your hand to his lips to kiss. “You are worth the work.”

Kiba was passing by when he stopped and did a double-take. He was convinced that he saw you and Neji but he wasn’t sure.

the void calls me forth

fur culture

r (y/n) and neji on a date?

ino-yeet-chi

why would that be ur concern if they were kiba?

fur culture

b/c im not being left out of this revelation once it happens like i was when lee came out. also i see them..

Kiba was squinting at the frosted glass window. Neither you nor Neji knew what was going on in that chat; both of you had your phones picked up. Kiba needed to know so he quietly snuck into the cafe and to a booth on the other side of the store from you two. Not that you would have noticed, either way, you and Neji were in your own little world. It looked like a date to Kiba.

the void calls me forth

ino-yeet-chi

KIBA NO. LEAVE THEM ALONE. SHINO GET YOUR BOY

glasses has left the chat

Neji laughed to himself at something you said. He then leaned in to grasp your chin to press a soft kiss to your mouth. Not wanting to push you. Kiba could hardly believe it. He got up and slipped into the bathroom.

the void calls me forth

fur culture

Holy- DUDE

You felt your phone vibrate and Neji felt his too. You both grabbed your phones and checked the messages. His eyes shot up and scanned for Kiba keenly aware. You were confused. You also looked over the messages and glared.

“He’s here somewhere.” you groaned.

Neji pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at you almost apologetically.

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. You grabbed his back and yours and pulled him from the cafe.

“Don’t be sorry. I know where we can go where no one will find us.”

You and Neji dipped through the streets. He allowed himself to be pulled by you while you brought him to a home. He didn’t recognize this house. You explained it was your grandfather’s home, but he wasn’t home. You had a treehouse in the backyard that you wanted to show him. He was surprised to see this.

“Whoa.”

“I know.”

You climbed up the rope ladder and Neji followed closely as you went up. Inside the treehouse, it looked older but sometimes you still come up to be alone or to play music. Neji stood hunched because it was made for you who had never been very tall. He looked around and smiled.

“Finally.” he groaned.

He grabbed your face softly and kissed you properly. You gasped quietly and he kept one hand on your face and the other on your waist to make sure this was real. You both needed air eventually and he actually started to giggle. You laughed and the two of you spent the afternoon in the early fall air laughing, stealing kisses, and being in each other's presence.

#anime images #naruto imagines #naruto reader inserts #naruto #neji hyūga #neji imagine #neji x reader #neji hyuga x y/n #neji hyuuga x reader

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collectsfallenstars · 4 years

Text

Gravity: A Summary of the Development of Jeong TaeEul’s Feelings for Lee Gon in “The King: Eternal Monarch (Part 3 of 3)

EPISODE 7

Back in her world, Jeong Tae-eul plunges into another murder case while still working on her last one. Days, possibly weeks pass without any word from Lee Gon. This is a long distance relationship taken to the extreme, without the comforts of technology to ease the longing. Thankfully, she is kept busy by her work. However, during a quiet night at the precinct while filling out a form, she remembers their first meeting. She smiles and pulls out his old file. It gives her a thrill to see “Name: Unknown, Date of Birth: Unknown, Address: Unkown, Contact: Unknown” because now, she knows all the answer to them. She even tries to fill it out using his name, Lee Gon. She is affirming his existence, and it is now precious to her. This is her missing him.

And then she deletes his file. This is her going from soft and then back to her hard exterior. And Kim Goeun is absolutely wonderful here with the camera up close to her face, catching the minute her soft eyes turn sad, and then hard while she grits her teeth ever so lightly before pressing her lips in a tight line. Jeong Tae-eul is all in in this relationship yes, but she’s still a pragmatist and hasn’t forgotten that they belong to different worlds. And she is bracing herself for the tragedy she senses is just around the corner.

When he returns to her, she realizes how intense her feelings have become after their separation.

“HOW HAVE YOU BEEN? HAVE YOU BEEN WAITING FOR ME?”

She smiles at him when he asks how she’s been. The moment Lee Gon asks her if she waited for him, she gives him a different smile, a sadder one. It was probably the exact moment when she realized she had been waiting for him. And waiting for him meant she had been missing him all this time. She probably never had time to think about it because she had been so busy with murder investigations in her world, and trying to solve the mystery of the unexplainable recordings she suspected was from his world. And when she did have time to think of him, like that time in the precinct with his file, she would only allow herself a few moment of happiness, and them push them down.

So this is what it has come down to. I hear a lot of people saying she went from hating him to suddenly running into his arms. That isn’t the case as you can see. All the development happened beneath the surface, behind the words that they were saying to each other.

After their reunion, they go on their fantasy everyday, normal life of a couple. The have dinner, they have couple phones, they hold hands, they walk with his arm around her, she winds a teddy bear/stuffed lion for him in a shooting gallery – essentially, a date like normal couples do. This is them stealing moments in time.

As Lee Gon says on that fake phone call,

“I ALWAYS WANTED TO TRY THIS WITH YOU. CALL YOU ON THE PHONE. ASK YOU ABOUT YOUR DAY. TELL YOU I MISSED YOU.”

This is them trying to cram in whatever happiness and sweetness they can to make whatever fate has in store for them a little more bearable.

Keep in mind that although this was Jeong Tae-eul showing her softer side, she was still very much like herself. She didn’t turn into a mindless, giggly little doll. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to show it. She got them the couple phones. They went on a date that she thought of. She won the stuffed animal. She was the one who promised him the moon and stars if he asked them. This is not typical k-drama female lead and it is very exciting to have an alternative image of femininity. It’s a good thing Lee Gon’s ego is as big as it is, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to handle someone like Tae-eul.

But in true Jeong Tae-eul fashion, she moves from cool/sweet soft girlfriend to business-like detective. She tells him she had been waiting for him as herself, but half of it she waited as her detective self. They go back to her house and exchange information on their respective cases. And he shares his theory that his power hungry uncle, Lee Lim, has been hiding in her world and building an army. She confirms that a recording from one of her dead bodies is from his world. They agree to cooperate with each other for the sake of both their cases. Now, when Lee Gon notes that this investigation will take her to even more dangerous ground now that they know it involves his world as well and Tae-eul replies,

“THIS WAS MY CASE BEFORE I EVEN MET YOU,” it does three things.

One, it reinforces the idea of fate. Their first meeting at Gwanghwamun Square was not where they first began. Things have been going on in both their lives that wound up putting them in each others’ paths long before they even met. As I said in a previous video of mine, that short meeting on the last 6 minutes of the first episode was deliberately put in last to show how the events of both their worlds have resulted in their fated meeting that night. Everything that happened to them had to happen so that they would meet each other. And it’s the same for Tae-eul with all the cases she had been getting before even meeting Lee Gon.

Second, and makes her realize that her murder investigation and his investigation into the treachery and treason of his uncle are inevitably tied to each other, the way she and Lee Gon are tied to each other. They are each others’ answers to the mysteries they’re trying to solve. As Lee Gon said before, there must be a simple and beautiful formula for how she was involved in saving his life but he is sure that she’s the answer he has been looking for. In the same manner, she could never solve the murders that have been falling into her lap without him and his world. He is also the answer to all the mysteries she is trying to solve.

Which brings us to the third point. Her murder investigation and the evil plot his treasonous uncle are a mirror of their relationship. And this realization plays an important part on why she told him she loved him in the very next episode. When Tae-eul spoke of the dead bodies in her world coming from his world,

“THE TWO WORLDS SHOULDN’T GET MIXED UP LIKE THIS. THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO STAY ON THEIR RESPECTIVE PATHS. BUT, THE TWO WORLDS ARE ALREADY COLLIDING AND I’VE DISCOVERED IT. SO WHAT ELSE COULD I DO? I DECIDED TO INVESTIGATE. I’M A POLICE OFFICER OF THE REPUBLIC OF KOREA.”

she might as well have been talking about the two of them. This is very much a reflection of what she thinks about their relationship. It shouldn’t be happening. But it did. Like all the cross-world murders falling on her lap that she has to solve. In the same manner that she can’t ignore them because it’s her job to solve them, she also can’t ignore this thing she has with Lee Gon. Call it fate, destiny, gravity. But there it is. She’s a detective, she will solve murders, no matter how dangerous they become. She is Jeong Tae-eul and she will love Lee Gon, because she is who she is. She is someone who would choose to love him, no matter how difficult things could get. But then, she ends the statement with,

“I AM A POLICE OFFICER OF THE REPUBLIC OF KOREA.”

This is the equivalent of her seeing Lee Gon in his navy uniform with his imperial robes behind him. She is reminding him that she is still planted firmly in her world, with her own responsibilities. They may not be as big as his, but they’re just as important. She can’t just leave everything and go live with him in his world.

As they enter into a new phase in their relationship, they are now faced with this conflict. Neither of them can just up and leave their world. So they made rules for each other, 2 from Lee Gon, and 17 and pending for Jeong Tae-eul, as a way to bargain with the universe. They’re trying to right the wrongs that have happened prior to them meeting. The only thing they’re asking is that the universe would let them them be together, for now.

The very fact that Lee Gon had only 2 rules and they were what they were is significant, and kind of true to their character. His two rules mean that his solution to their situation is to continue going back and forth between the two worlds. It would be this decision that will be challenged much later I suppose, when the gateway to both dimensions would eventually crack. But as for now, he has decided to split his world into two, a world of responsibility in the Kingdom of Corea, and the world where his only dream and desire resides, Republic of Korea where Jeong Tae-eul is.

Jeong Tae-eul plays it loose by beginning with 5 rules and a pending 13 more, making it up as she goes along. And that’s essentially how she has always been since the beginning of the series. She starts with what she can confirm, what she can believe, and then change by adding or taking from it with every new information she gets as she goes along, just as what she did with Lee Gon. Her route to a decision is circuitous, while Lee Gon’s is a straight line.

At this point, they’ve already solidified their relationship AND their plans to investigate murders and treason. And neither of them have told each other that they love each other. Which bring us to the next episode.

EPISODE 8

They begin to share less screen time here as the reality of their two worlds and Lee Lim’s plans begin catching up to them. More of Lee Lim’s plot is revealed. Jeong Tae-eul slowly begins to unravel their cases. There is no time to cross worlds to go on dates. And I suppose this is one of the major complaints of people – that they don’t spend enough time with each other. At least long enough to give us heart fluttering moments.

Well, the thing is, two parallel worlds are about to collide into each other, there’s a barrier between worlds that freezes time on both sides in the number or seconds of frozen time keep rising, and in the meantime, people are disappearing and getting murdered. We have here two characters who aren’t free to go on dates and flirt whenever they want. You know, like actual adults with real world responsibilities.

But they have done the essentials of a relationship without even doing much of that. They’ve learned each other’s way of thinking and haven’t tried to change each other. They’ve learned how to empathize with each other, which wasn’t that hard considering they’re both emotionally strong people. They’ve gotten to know each other. She knows of his traumatic past that has shaped the kind of king he is now. He knows of her girlhood dreams that have shaped the kind of detective she is now.

They’ve opened their eyes and assessed their impossible situation. They reacted differently, talked it out, and arrived at the conclusion that decisions about the two of them should be made together. They were able to do all that without going on “normal” dates.

She acknowledges how they have done everything in reverse, skipping over some parts and getting right to the nitty-gritty of a relationship that challenges the rules of the universe without even saying things to each other. That’s why she’s now backtracking, and trying to do things properly.

“IN THE BEGINNING, YOU ASK ABOUT EVERYTHING. WE JUST SKIPPED TOO MANY THINGS.”

The only thing left to do, really, is to make it official. To say the words. And even that feels anti-climactic, knowing that everything she has shown him surely let him know how she feels already. And even if he hadn’t literally said the words I love you to her, his entire existence and crossing over to her world was an entire love letter to her. So she knew it was her who had to say it first, just to be as clear, as he always had been with her.

And ultimately, this is what attracts me to her as a viewer. She’s a strong-willed, independent, no nonsense woman. And she’s the same, even in matters of love. She doesn’t suddenly turn into a blushing 13 year old who doesn’t know what to with her feelings. She had doubts about Lee Gon even if something was brewing between them. When the doubts were are dispelled, she dealt with how she felt with him. And when she understood that she loved him, whether by fate or her own decision, she told him. There was no teenage angst of wondering who should say it first, no annoying ancient mindfucks of men should always do the chasing. True to her form and character, Jeong Tae-eul felt it, so then she had to say it. It was that simple. Their situation was complicated enough. There was no need to

So she goes to see him before a stake out on a beautiful sunlit afternoon. There’s nothing more poignant than verbalizing a hopeless love with a slowly setting sun in the background.

She begins it with a string of questions of “What if”? It is her way of questioning the role of human choices when fate is at play. Lee Gon insists that no matter what she would have done, he would still have fallen in love with her. It was his fate to love her. It mirrors what she’s thinking in the voice over that would come next.

She had tried to deny the existence of his world, his feelings for her, and his own very existence. They had all turned out to be true and she had found herself unexplainably drawn into his life. And she couldn’t pull away, even if she had tried. So she had arrived at the same conclusion as well. It was also her fate to love him.

“IT TOOK ME A LONG TIME TO REALIZE THIS. WHEN IT’S FATE, THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES. YOUR FATE IS DETERMINED BY THE CHOICES YOU MAKE, BUT THERE ARE TIMES WHEN YOUR FATE CHOOSES YOU.”

And the thing is, she has never lost track of how dire their circumstances are. She’s fallen in love with her eyes wide open. That’s why, as she walked back to her car, her internal monologue ran,

“THINGS THAT ARE BOUND TO HAPPEN ARE TAKING PLACE EVEN AT THIS MOMENT. I WAS STRUCK WITH A SAD PREMONITION THAT THIS WILL BE SHORT-LIVED, BUT I DECIDED TO LOVE MY FATE THAT CHOSE ME.”

This gut feeling that she has about their love being short-lived didn’t come out of nowhere. Once the murders and treason are solved, they would have to go back to their own lives and worlds, if they don’t die while trying to solve them. At this point in time, she knows she won’t leave her world, and he won’t leave his. She knows heartbreak is waiting for her. And the audience knows too, that if one of them do decide to give up their world, it will create ripples in both timelines, which will no doubt affect them. At every turn, there is heartbreak waiting for them.

That’s why she told him she loved him. She knows every moment they spend could be their last and what was the point of feeling all that love, if she wasn’t going to say it out loud? So, she said it. In the most unromantic tone possible.

“I LOVE YOU.”

And then, Paul Kim’s “Dream” swells in the background. The first two lines say it all, “You are my dream. You are my love.” Because for the longest time, she was all he ever dreamed about. And here she was, finally, telling him and showing him that in loving him, she was surrendering to her fate. But in choosing to surrender to it, she also makes it clear, that it was also a decision on her part.

It took 8 episodes to hand him this gift in small, measly little parts. Theirs was never going to be a love with murder in the background to prevent people from being saturated with sweetness. Theirs was a love that had to bloom in the dark. Their love had to find little spaces in between murders, parallel worlds, and evil plots. The long wait between encounters gives them a sense of urgency, allowing them to dispose of games people play in love and just simply be loving towards each while dead bodies pile up and gateways to other worlds collapse around them. It was an optimal situation for two people who speak plainly, who say what they want to say and mean it. No words are wasted between the two them. Because if their fate is to steal moments in time for them to be together, then there’s really no point

in playing games, pretending to be coy, giving chase, and other expected k-drama behavior between couples. It was also never a journey about discovering how they fell in love with each other and realizing that they were in love. It’s going to be about finding that love and what they’re going to do with it, when murder, treason, an ambitious Prime Minister, powerful magical flutes, parallel worlds, and time challenge that love.

That’s why the love confession happens early on in the middle of the series. The next 8 episodes would then be used to hammer at that love, testing how far it can go and how much it can withstand.

Hopefully, this helps those who are still confused as to how Jeong TaeEul’s character develops romantic feelings for Lee Gon and why she had to verbalize them on the 8th episode.

#the king eternal monarch #jeongtaeeul #jeong tae eul #leegon #lee gon #kimgoeun #kim go eun #leeminho #lee min ho #kim eun sook #kdrama

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cassieschaosdimension · 3 years

Text

The First Train Ride

The first chapter of Snake Befriending Lion by Bookdragonfanish on AO3! Please feel free to check it out to leave a comment or kudo if you haven't already!

*THIS IS NOT EDITED YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!*

Eleven year old Draco Malfoy stands on Platform Nine and Three Quarters hoping for a glimpse of the boy who lived. He, like everyone else in the Wizarding world, had grown up hearing his name. The story was one of legend and he wondered if Harry remembered it all. He was interrupted in his thoughts by two rambunctious red headed boys who brushed past him laughing loudly. He heard his father give a sniff of disapproval.

He pitied the boys even though he knew nothing about them. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was notorious for making sure none of his enemies were around to stop him. Draco had always wondered about the company his parents kept, much preferring to stay in his room whilst they had any visitors at all.

"Draco darling," that was his mother. He sauntered over to where she was and listened to what she had to say. "Draco, Remember no matter what happens at school, your father and I love you very much. We will write you as soon as we get home and eagerly await your owl. Chin up, back straight. Malfoys and Blacks do not slouch."

Nodding his head, Draco says "Yes mother. I love both of you too. And I can't wait to see the castle with the lake and my classes. Mum, do you think people will like me? What if I can't make any friends? I don't want to hang out with Blaise or Crabbe and Goyle or Pansy. They're mean and stuck up to people."

"Just be yourself darling and remember what I told you. Go see your father." Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, formerly known as Black, was a thin woman who demanded respect when she walked into a room. No one ever knew what she was thinking, but one thing they knew was she loved her family dearly. She would do anything to keep her son safe and away from harm.

Draco walks over to his father. "Draco, while you're at Hogwarts please try to remember we are not like the others. We are of noble blood and we must be treated as such. Do not let others get you down. You are a Malfoy and the name of Malfoy has demanded respect for centuries. Do not mess it up. Have fun at Hogwarts, but do not forget what I have told you. Get on the train.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy did not have the best childhood and when Narcissa became pregnant he vowed to protect his son from harm. He did this by only letting him intermingle with those of his own kind. He made sure his son had a normal childhood. Well as normal as he would let him.

After hugging and kissing his mother and shaking hands with his father Draco runs excitedly onto the train waiting to see if he could make any friends before he even got to Hogwarts. After looking into one compartment on the train he shies away from that one. It had really tall, really loud people in it! He didn't want that at all.

Another compartment had only girls. His only experience with girls his own age had been Pansy and he wasn't eager to find out if all girls were like her. She was enough to deal with. He wanted a group of guy friends. Crabbe and Goyle did what he said because his father was the boss of their fathers. They weren't his friends. They had to do whatever he said and he didn't like it. He remembered asking them if they could come out on the moors with him to look for gnomes at four. Crabbe threw an absolute fit. Goyle had to drag Crabbe after Draco as he flounced off to the moors. Draco was extremely put out, but when he looked back and saw the two of them lumbering after him, he brightened up.

Another memory he had was Christmas when he was seven and he wanted to play in the snow after the meal. Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing their faces and didn’t want to leave the food. He went to complain to his mother. What happened next was what he expected, but he felt guilty about it. His mother went over to their mothers and practically demanded their sons play with him. Draco only wanted some real playmates. That was the year he realized he might never have real friends. Crabbe and Goyle weren’t as smart as he was so he could never have the stimulating conversations he had with his mother over their daily afternoon tea.

They weren’t going to have genuine fun with him. This is when he learned he could make the two boys do his bidding. He started to turn from the carefree happy boy he once was in the open into a cold hearted, manipulative person who closed off his emotions to please his father. However, he did keep some of himself when he snuck down into the kitchens for a late night talk with the house elves. They were his only real friends growing up besides his mother.

Whenever Pansy and her parents came over she was so mean to the poor house elves. She was always talking to them as if they were the gum on the bottom of her patent leather flats. The way she ordered them to take her outerwear was shocking to Draco. As she grew up, he watched her parents not able to say no to her. She got everything she asked for. It was sickening for him to watch. Once she got to ten years of age, Draco was spending all of his time with Crabbe and Goyle because two buffoons were better than one spoiled brat. Draco always went and apologized for her behavior to the elves in the dead of night. The house elves were sad to see him go off to school, but they were excited too.

"Excuse me. Coming through. Lee has a tarantula for us to look at. Budge along." It’s the two rambunctious red headed boys who had brushed him going onto the platform. When they get to Draco, their happy looks sour.

The one on the right looks at the one on the left and says "Pardon me your Highness. Will you let us pass to get to our compartment?" Draco doesn't like the tone he uses. He isn't doing anything wrong. The train hasn't even started to move yet!

"Oh yeah," Draco presses himself up against the wall to let the two pass. He doesn't like these two and hopes he won't have to interact with them in class. They looked older, definitely not first years. In fact, all of these people looked a lot older than he was.

Draco was starting to get scared and started to stumble across the long, velvet carpeted, hallway separating the compartments from the platform.

With each peek into a compartment, he starts to worry. He had yet to see any people who looked like first years. At one compartment he sees Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy and immediately lurches past with his head down.

Shaken up at seeing them, he steps into a random compartment and is relieved to see a round faced brown haired boy with a toad sitting next to him. This boy looked like a first year like him.

"May I sit down?" Draco asked politely.

The boy looked to Draco and jumped in surprise. "Yes... yes you can. My name is Neville ummm, Neville Longbottom and this is Trevor." He gestured to the tod sitting next to him. "Sit down and…” He looks at the window with a blush on his cheeks and wide eyes. “Ummm, make yourself comfortable. Please um, please make sure you close the compartment door so Trevor doesn’t escape.”

Grinning at the warm greeting, Draco complies. He sticks out his hand and says, "I'm Draco Malfoy. It's really nice to meet you Neville! I hope we can be friends!"

At the name Malfoy, Neville shoots up in his seat in alarm and starts to look around as if an escape hatch will appear so he can disappear. "M-mal-malfoy?! As in the Death Eaters?!" He started to fidget and panic.

Draco looks at the poor boy in utter confusion. "Former Death Eaters. Are you okay Neville?"

Eyes wide in fright, Neville grabs Trevor and huddles at the furthest edge of the compartment from Draco, as if he has a disease. Draco wants to cry. Here is a first year boy who looks terrified of him because of his name. He doesn't understand why Neville is petrified. His parents weren't Death Eaters anymore and they only did it because He - Who - Must - Be - Named made them! All he wants is a real friend!

Draco on the verge of tears, turns to go. As soon as he opens the door he's met with a mane of brown, frizzy, bushy hair. He falls backwards in shock and hears a whimper from Neville.

"Hello. Everywhere else is full. They're about to depart so would you mind letting me into the compartment? That would be wonderful." The bushy haired girl says with authority. "I would like to be seated when the lurch is felt.” Pushing past an astonished Draco with only an “excuse me”, she falls into the just vacant seat Neville left only moments earlier.

She pushes past him and Draco stands up; when he's turned around the scene he looks at is chaotic.

Neville stands up to leap after Trevor, who with the door open, makes his way, hopping faster than Draco expects towards freedom.

All else forgotten. Neville screams "Grab him!" The bushy haired girl lunges for the toad and misses. Now it's Draco's turn to redeem himself in Neville's eyes. He too lunges for the toad and manages to grasp his left hind leg before he falls flat on his face, his grip loosening on the toad who hops away unaware of the chaos he has caused.

Neville's face is distraught. "My great uncle Algie gave me Trevor when I got accepted into Hogwarts! I’m a pureblood you see and most of my family believed I was a Squib for the longest time until I was eight. Uncle Algie pushed me off the Blackpool Pier.” Gasps are heard throughout the compartment. “Don’t worry. I bounced all the way down. Uncle Algie was so pleased he gave me Trevor! Now, can we please go after him?”

Draco and the girl exchange concerned glances. Draco knows that any Wizarding family will have almost all of their family members accepted unless they're a Squib and he's certain his family tree doesn't have any Squibs.

"You're a pureblood?" Draco cautiously asks, accidentally falling onto the girl who just sat down as the train gives a lurch. He hasn’t looked at the family tree since his father forced him to glance at it when he was six. Draco strains to hear Neville’s answer, but with the train moving steadily now, there’s no way to hear Neville at the volume he speaks at.

The girl huffs and moves to give Draco room to sit and he smiles gratefully at her. He's never seen her before and she seems to give off the same air he does. He wonders if she's a pureblood from another country. As she speaks again, he realizes she doesn’t know a thing about the Wizarding community in Britain and the surrounding areas.

"Oh purebloods! I've read about them. They're the silly witches and wizards who think that half-bloods and Muggleborns are scum. I find that absolutely atrocious as I am a Muggleborn myself," the girl turns to Draco. "My guess is you're a pureblood?"

When he nods she starts to lecture him. "You all should be ashamed of yourselves! I read that if you guys didn't marry outside of your circle you would have died out! The mindset is completely rubbish and shouldn't even be put into practice. And at a school no less!"

Neville and Draco look at her in shock, eyes wide and face awash with horror. For such a tiny girl she can inflict fear into anyone with that tone. "I'm Hermione Granger. And what House do you hope to be in? Personally I want to end up in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor as Slytherin seems filled with selfish and mean people and Hufflepuff seems filled with pushovers."

At this Draco swells. "Excuse me! My whole family has been in Slytherin for centuries and I can tell you we are not selfish and mean people! We care for the greater good!"

Neville seems to shrink into his corner again at the last three words and Draco instantly regrets the words he unconsciously let spill from his mouth. He wants Neville as a friend and now maybe he won't want to be his friend!

Hermione turns towards him so fast her hair slaps him in the face. "You sound like Grindelwald! He sounded like you! Are you a supporter of He Who Must be Named?! They were both awful men! How can you sit there saying that when they did such horrible things!"

An even greater fear starts to creep into his eyes. These two do not like him. He is only repeating what he's heard his parents say! Should he say that? The words pop out before he can stop them. "My parents taught me that and I'm sorry if that was wrong all I want are real friends for once! Please give me a chance!"

Hermione looks at Neville and walks over to him. They converse in hushed voices. Draco's heart begins to sink. Will they give him a chance to be their friend?! All he wants is a real friend he can count on! He doesn't think he wants to be a Malfoy if this is what the name gives him. Why did he have to be born a Malfoy?

The waiting is agonizing. It seems like forever when they suddenly turn to him and Neville says, "How do we know you're not lying? Your mum's sister made my parents insane! "

Hermione rubs his back reassuringly and looks at Draco. "Okay, we don't trust you, but we are willing to give you a chance because we believe you can be good at heart. You get one chance. If you mess up, we won’t be your friend anymore. Now... please help us find Trevor. He's special to Neville and he doesn't want to start Hogwarts without him. Please help us look for him."

Draco senses a wonderful opportunity and stands eagerly with a frantic nod and wide grin. "Where do you want to start? Should we split up or stay together? Personally I think we should stay together because all of those people out there are scary."

The two stare at him in shock. They were not expecting him to jump up so suddenly and agree wholeheartedly.

Hermione says split up and Neville agrees, but then Draco points out no one will tell him anything since almost everyone knows who he is. Finally it’s agreed Neville will go on his own and Draco and Hermione will ask together.

Neville heads off to the left towards the front of the train. Hermione and Draco head towards the back of the train.

In the first few compartments they check, the students seated will only tell Hermione if they saw Trevor and ignored Draco completely. He wants to cry. Is the Malfoy name really making people not like him?! But they don't even know him! How are they supposed to know they don't like him if they don't know him?!

The last compartment holds two boys: one very red headed and one with round glasses and black hair. Draco hangs back behind Hermione’s hair as she asks the boys about Trevor.They respond no and turn away from the two toad hunters. The red headed boy pulls out a wand and Draco inches closer to see what spell he’ll utter. He’s watched Pansy wave her wand around since she went to Diagon Alley the day after she got her acceptance letter. He didn’t watch her because he didn’t want to associate himself with her and her ways. His mother made him promise not to use his wand until his first class because he could hurt people and he agreed.

The red haired boy says something about rats, daisies and yellow. As expected, the rat does not turn yellow. Hermione scoffs and then fixes the black haired boy's glasses.

When the red haired boy introduces himself as Ron Weasley, Draco wrinkles his nose. He can't help it. His father says the Weasleys are blood traitors and Mugglelovers. He was always taught they were bad, but now he's not so sure.

Then when the black haired boy says his name is Harry Potter, Draco surges forward. As he comes into view Ron turns away in disgust and he deflates a little bit. He's going to have to be careful in how he says things. "Hello! My name is Draco Malfoy and I'm also looking for Neville's toad. I'm assuming since this is the last compartment he's not here. Hermione, I'm going to head back to the compartment to see if Neville found him."

Ron stares at him in shock. “You’re a Malfoy? But you’re nice?” Turning to Harry, he whispers audibly, “The Malfoys were the biggest supporters of You - Know - Who.

With a smile and wave goodbye he leaves the three of them stunned into silence. The smile falls off his face as he trudges with a heavy heart towards the compartment to put his robes on. He realizes he should only stick to the people he has already met and he vows to steer clear of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy for as long as he can and since they'll be in Slytherin like him it'll be hard. He'll manage; he always has.

He puts his robes in in the empty compartment and waits for Neville and Hermione to come back. Hopefully they will since their trucks are here. Smiling to himself, he stares out the window, already imaging what fun things he can do with his new friends!

#draco malfoy #draco pov #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #eleven year old draco

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