#yes i was so tempted to make a part 2 and have him reject you but no i did not

[cutiedwaekki]

wolfgang

summary : were werewolf chan make sure his human and mate Changbin is well feed for their pup

contain : weight gain , massive weight gain , mpreg , mention of lactation , praising

I decided to combine @jaethecreator and @rafalestorm413 ideas into one

Be prepare , This is my last fic for a while, I'm preparing a very long fic that will deserve all this waiting time 👀

Anyway enjoy ♡

U^ェ^U

—Jagi? I'm home! cried Chan before closing the door behind him. A long silence followed despite his entrance, but he didn't seem bothered by it.

The reason was that, as soon as he entered the living room, he saw his lover, Changbin, asleep on the sofa in front of a random drama, surrounded by the fast-food wrappers Chan had ordered earlier.

–Oh my love, you're beautiful! he exclaimed with a gentle smile as he approached him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. You're getting more beautiful every day, perfect for welcoming our puppies," he added, tenderly caressing his swollen belly as it peeked out from his sweater.

U^ェ^U

And to think that just 2 years ago Changbin didn't look like this. He wasn't thin or fat. Just sort of in between. A chubby muscle body that combined his desire to gain muscle with a healthy appetite.

But when he met Chan, everything changed...

He'd invite her to restaurants, all-you-can-eat buffets, prepare delicious meals and make sure to massage his belly afterwards. The ideal husband, Changbin thought.

For his part, Chan saw in Changbin more than a boyfriend, he saw his mate, the one who would carry his puppies even though it was impossible for Changbin to do so given his human condition.

For yes, one thing that set this couple apart from the others was the fact that Chan is a werewolf.

Don't think of those canine hybrids like in Twillight! Chan gritted his teeth when the cinema portrayed them that way. In reality, they were more like hybrids, capable of transforming into wolves only when the moon was full. Some were able to master their transformation, others like Chan still had trouble controlling it and had to hide every full moon to avoid becoming uncontrollable.

At first, this was how Chan worked. He had been careful to hide his identity from Changbin, for fear that he would reject him and leave him. But he had underestimated that his inner wolf saw Changbin as his mate, often getting the better of him.

We have to feed our mate, he carries our puppies

Changbin must be healthy to carry our puppies

Changbin must be fulfilled

That's what he kept thinking, poking at his lover who obviously didn't mind and liked this form of affection.

Of course, this meant doubling his weight and gorging himself all day non-stop. And yet, he liked it and carried on. It wasn't Chan's affection he was after, but his desire to get bigger, to see how far he could go.

He loved the way Chan looked at him, the way his eyes darted over his belly, the way he rubbed it with affection as if he were pregnant, while the only thing Changbin wore was his obese body and two family-size fast-food menus.

Changbin didn't really know why Chan kept him overfed. He had once told him it was "instinct", but he quickly covered his mouth and refused to give any more details, leaving changbin confused but with ice cream on top.

However, Changbin really didn't care, as he liked not having to worry about watching his weight, as he had to do previously . Having a boyfriend who not only didn't care about his growing size, but actually enjoyed it, was a huge advantage for him.

Until he discovered the secret Chan was hiding.

U^ェ^U

It was one evening, just before the full moon. Chan pretended to be on a business trip, but Changbin was needy that day and wouldn't let his lover go, demanding more hugs and kisses. He even got naked in front of him and waddled around, letting his massive body rub against him.

And yet Chan refused, tempted as he was.

—Are you cheating on me, Channie?

Chan was shocked by this question and immediately replied what? No, I wouldn't dare, Jagi, you're the love of my life!

—so why do you go away every month? I've never been able to watch the full moon with you! What are you, a werewolf or sum'?

Although it was said ironically, Chan swallow , he seemed unable to lie for long, mumbling a light maybe i am that surprised Changbin in his loud reflection.

At first surprised, he didn't believe it and thought it was a joke. But given the serious look on his face, he couldn't think of a joke any longer and took him seriously.

—For real? My Channie is a werewolf? Like in Twilight?

—Don't talk to me about that, they're just feeding useless werewolf clichés!

—So you are one!

—Maybe ... your mad ?

Changbin crossed his arms, pretending to reflect.

—Mmh ... never with my Channie! But you should have told me earlier, my poor Channie you've had to endure this all alone without even me to help you.

He came to his side and embraced him tenderly, Chan didn't hesitate to nestle against him, rubbing his naked skin against his, placing his head against his chest and caressing his belly.

—I just have one question, Channie

—What is it my love?

—What's your fantasy about my belly? I mean, it's really hot and I love it when you touch it, but sometimes it's like you're acting like... like I'm pregnant or something.

Chan glipped before blushing, coming to cacje his face and sticking it on her belly, which he covered with a kiss.

—It's my wolf instinct, it wants to keep you fed so you can carry my puppies, but you've put on weight so easily that my wolf must surely think you're already pregnant.

Faced with this statement, Changbin blushed back, had he really become that fat? When was the last time he saw his feet? When had he ever completed a sports session? When had he accumulated so much fat on his body to start waddling?

When had he become so fat that Chan's wolf thought he was pregnant?

Why was he excited about it?

—I guess it's your fault... you keep me so well fed he said, patting his belly which trembled slightly at the slap

—I like knowing you're healthy and chubby, it's normal.

Changbin laughed, letting his double chin stand out. Channie, I haven't been chubby for a long time and you know it.

—Maybe, but to me it's never enough.

—So go do your werewolf thing, but promise to come back and feed me, I need to be well fed for your puppies.

U^ェ^U

What Changbin didn't know (and Chan even less) was that he was really going to carry Chan's puppies.

In fact, after 5 years of lovemaking, they got married in front of the moon, which accepted this union of human and werewolf by offering a worthy gift to Changbin, who proved himself worthy of carrying cubs.

Despite your human status, you'll have the privilege of giving birth to a prolific descent with your mate.

And so, the day after their wedding night, he became nauseous and hungry.

Much to Chan and his wolf's delight, their wish had finally come true.

—You're finally perfect to carry my pack, Binnie," he said, kissing his double belly.

—I wonder if I'll still be able to walk at nine months pregnant," he exclaimed as he laid his head on the nape of his lover's neck.

—You think I'm going to let you make such a pointless effort? The father of my puppies must be spoiled like a king!

—That's why I love you Channie

—It's not for my werewolf dick?

—Stop you pervert

U^ェ^U

Chan had kept his word: for nine months, Changbin spent most of his time in bed or on the sofa, munching on snacks or any other craving he could think of. As a result, he had become massive, so much so that the sofa and bed were reinforced to resist his weight.

His belly was now huge , resting on her equally massive thighs that Chan loved marked by gentle biting

His only physical efforts were to go to children's stores to buy clothes for their puppies and even that was reward with a bunch of food at Changbin's favorite restaurant.

So, in early autumn, Changbin gave birth to three beautiful puppies. Jisung, Felix and Seungmin all in good health thanks to their father's diet.

If you think that after the puppies' birth, Changbin would have started making more physical efforts, you're wrong.

He'd already got used to this sedentary lifestyle, but also to Chan doing everything for himself. Was he hungry? Chan would feed him directly. Can't reach the remote control in front of him? Chan would give it to him, accusing the stupid remote control of being too far away.

Plus , with puppies to look after, Changbin had to stay well fed to feed them back.

If Seungmin and Felix had normal appetites, Jisung seemed to be in love with his mother's milk, spending his days sucking it, making his brothers jealous of the attention he was getting from their mother.

But changbin loved his three children with the same intensity, and if his little Jisung had a big appetite, he had to satisfy it.

U^ェ^U

—He's going to make me lose weight," joked Changbin as he cradled Jisung.

Chang smilled and patted his belly affectionately.

—Impossible, I've kept you well fed for years.

Changbin chuckled as he looked at his baby. Compared to his brothers, Jisung was the chubbiest of the three, after all, he'd been constantly drinking his father's milk and had ended up this way, with lovely round cheeks that his parents admired and loved to pinch.

—Our children are beautiful, confided Changbin. I love our family.

Chan just smiled, unable to do anything but listen.

U^ェ^U

—Look how cute my family is ~

Today was the triplets' birthday, they were celebrating their first year and to mark the occasion they had organized a picnic in the forest so that the babies could experience their wolf form with their father.

They had run around all afternoon while Changbin sat in a tree reading a book and drinking tea (which contained more sugar than tea, but nobody had to know that).

His babies came back to him, attacking him with kisses, followed by Chan, who watched in admiration.

What did I deserve to have such a beatiful family? he thought, feeling the happiness his family brought him. The laughter emanating from the forest, gave joy and warmth to an atypical family who love each other so much.

[babbelswoofominides]

Ok I was re-watching the last scene of ep6 and I feel like the light of understanding dawned on me, how did I miss so much nuance the first few watches??? Aziraphale and Crowley literally were saying 2 different things: Crowley wants to run from Heaven and Hell ("both toxic"),but Aziraphale only understands that he wants to run away as usual, he doesn't understand Crowley loves him (even Crowley didn't realize it until 5 minutes before).

Not at first. That confession is a mess and from a communicative pov, quite a fail. Basically Crowley is saying "we've always been a team, let's keep being a team by running away like Gabe and Beez run away from their responsibilities". That's what Aziraphale understands, he's so confused when Crowley says "We're a group, a team, an us". That has to be the dumbest (affectionate) confession I've ever seen actually, is he confessing or hyping his team right before a big match?

Aziraphale doesn't understand the love behind the "love confession": he probably still thinks Crowley thinks of him as a "friend" and he still wants him by his side. He loves him so much that he is ready to go back to Heaven and offers him what he thinks is the thing Crowley wants the most: become an angel again. From Az's pov, that's the best thing he could ever give him. Crowley, his nice, dear Crowley, finally safe and happy again. They can finally be safe, together, doing good, making a difference. But Crowley is throwing it all to the wind, choosing to stay a demon instead of choosing Aziraphale and "good, light". Az considers himself to be the good in their "us". Crowley is refusing good, Heaven, him. It stings, that refusal, feels like a betrayal of all those 6000 years where they helped and protected each other. Crowley is always saving him, but is refusing to be saved.

"We could have been us, you idiot". Aziraphale doesn't understand, because the kind of us Crowley was proposing was the same thing of 6000 years. Yes, a beautiful agreement, companionship in their loneliness, but also forced to hide from Hell and Heaven so they don't get killed. Hiding, running away, always a breath away from being together, but never together, because they're so fundamentally apart, demon and angel, always separated by this big rift. That for a moment seemed adjustable, but now no more.

He's not expecting a kiss. He's shocked beyond everything imaginable: he loves Austen, sensible romances, people having misunderstandings but in the end, agreeing and seeing it eye to eye, a sensible marriage/union, chosen together over shared goals/ideals. A kiss is, if anything, the seal of that agreement, the culmination of all that sensible, old timey wooing stuff. Instead, Crowley just rejected the best offer and he's tempting him again, like that night when he offered him the meat and he thought he'd be a fallen angel, after that. But this time he's offering so much more. Something Aziraphale has probably denied himself for centuries. Come with me: you will have me. But choose me, not heaven. It's lonely. It's us. Our own side.

Did he actually understand what Crowley meant? Or is he just hearing "you have to come with me on my own terms and completely give up heaven, the good side and possibly yourself, possibly at the cost of Falling"? Which is also what Aziraphale is asking Crowley: "renounce to who you are and you can be with me, doing good, eradicating the part that is now you forever". A different Falling, a reverse Fall. An ascension to light, pureness, good (very interesting choice of poses, btw).

It's all this and a lot more: there's pride, there's prejudice, there's 2 people who see things differently and have a lot of problems, they're "never saying what they're really thinking" (like Maggie said). Like that night preparing for the West End:

Aziraphale: "thank you for saving my books (why do you keep saving me and being so nice to me?)" Crowley: "shut up (Don't make me say it)". Crowley: "Cheers for getting me off the hook (are you just doing this out of the agreement, for yourself, for me?)" Aziraphale: "Oh don't hank me (don't say it out loud), that's what... friends... are for (we'll always be there for each other, like always, we just can't say it more explicitly than this, me and you, angel and demon, forever bound to suffer because of our natures).

Saying what they really think, for once. That way they could have actually discovered all the things that transpired in the final discussion... a little sooner? Before the Megatron came into the picture meddling, muddling the waters? Who knows.

[steveezekiel]

TEMPTATION

"THEN JESUS WAS LED BY THE SPIRIT into the wilderness TO BE TEMPTED there BY THE DEVIL." Matthew 4:1 (NLT)

Then Jesus was led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit to be tempted by the devil.

The truth is, As it did happen to Jesus, God might allow you to be led into some places to be tempted, persecuted, or tried by the devil and those who are loyal to him.

Jesus did not go into the wilderness by Himself, He was led to go there. Some have the notion that If you are led to do a particular thing, by God, you would not encounter any problem in doing it.

If you are under the leading of the Holy Spirit, you should not be afraid; however, you may encounter problems in a bid to do God's Will—but you will overcome whatever the problem. You may be tempted in your assignment. Temptation is not a Sin, but falling into it is a Sin.

Temptations are part of the growth process designed and usually permitted by God to know those who are serious with their Christian faith. You will be allowed to go through tests from the devil: 9 SATAN REPLIED TO THE LORD, “Yes, but Job has good reason to fear God. 10 You have always put a wall of protection around him and his home and his property. You have made him prosper in everything he does. Look how rich he is! 11 BUT REACH OUT AND TAKE AWAY EVERYTHING HE HAS, AND HE WILL SURELY CURSE YOU TO YOUR FACE!” 12 “ALL RIGHT, YOU MAY TEST HIM,” THE LORD SAID TO SATAN. “DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH EVERYTHING HE POSSESSES, BUT DON'T HARM HIM PHYSICALLY.” SO SATAN LEFT THE LORD'S PRESENCE" (Job 1:9-12).

This mainly is meant to know how strong you are and If you actually can be trusted with certain responsibility.

If you are facing trials because of your faith, do not be discouraged, God knows about It (James 1:2,3). You will not fail or fall in the traps of Temptations in Jesus' name.

If Jesus could be allowed to be tempted, then there is no one that could not be tempted. Even the Bible says Jesus learned Obedience through what He suffered: "JESUS IS GOD'S OWN SON, BUT STILL HE HAD TO SUFFER BEFORE HE COULD LEARN WHAT IT REALLY MEANS TO OBEY GOD" (Hebrews 5:8 Contemporary English Version).

Some Believers think that sufferings are a Curse. Some also think engaging in a fast, or the denying of your flesh of certain comforts, is a kind of suffering or a sign of being cursed or rejected by God: 12 DEAR FRIENDS, DON'T BE SURPRISED AT THE FIERY TRIALS YOU ARE GOING THROUGH, AS IF SOMETHING STRANGE WERE HAPPENING TO YOU. 13 Instead, BE VERY GLAD—FOR THESE TRIALS MAKE YOU PARTNERS WITH CHRIST IN HIS SUFFERING, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory when it is revealed to all the world. 14 IF YOU ARE INSULTED BECAUSE YOU BEAR THE NAME OF CHRIST, YOU WILL BE BLESSED, FOR THE GLORIOUS SPIRIT OF God RESTS UPON YOU. 15 IF YOU SUFFER, HOWEVER, IT MUST NOT BE FOR MURDER, STEALING, MAKING TROUBLE, OR PRYING INTO OTHER PEOPLE'S AFFAIRS. 16 BUT IT IS NO SHAME TO SUFFER FOR BEING A CHRISTIAN. PRAISE GOD FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF BEING CALLED BY HIS NAME!" (1 Peter 4:12-16 NLT).

When Paul had an encounter with Jesus on his way to Damascus which led to his conversion—salvation (Acts 9:1-9).

Jesus said about Paul to Ananias, the disciple who was sent to him in order to pray for him and receive his sight: 15 BUT THE LORD [Jesus] SAID TO HIM [Ananias], “GO, FOR HE [Paul] IS A CHOSEN VESSEL OF MINE TO BEAR MY NAME BEFORE GENTILES, kings, and the children of Israel. 16 FOR I WILL SHOW HIM HOW MANY THINGS HE MUST SUFFER FOR MY NAME'S SAKE" (Act 9:15,16 NKJV).

Suffering for the gospel, or the things of the Kingdom, is not a thing to be sorrowed about (2 Timothy 1:11,12; 1 Peter 4:12-16).

Apostle Paul passed through a lot, in a bid to fulfil the call of God on his life. He never bemoaned his condition once, he saw all that happened to him as a necessity: "FOR IF I PREACH THE GOSPEL, I HAVE NOTHING TO BOAST OF, FOR NECESSITY IS LAID UPON ME [Paul]; YES, WOE IS ME IF I DO NOT PREACH THE GOSPEL!" (1 Corinthians 9:16 NKJV).

9 FOR I THINK THAT GOD HAS DISPLAYED US, the apostles, last, AS MEN CONDEMNED TO DEATH; FOR WE HAVE BEEN MADE A SPECTACLE TO THE WORLD, both to angels and to men. 10 WE ARE FOOLS FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, but you are wise in Christ! WE ARE WEAK, but you are strong! You are distinguished, BUT WE ARE DISHONORED! 11 TO THE PRESENT HOUR WE BOTH HUNGER AND THIRST, AND WE ARE POORLY CLOTHED, AND BEATEN, AND HOMELESS. 12 AND WE LABOUR, working with our own hands. BEING REVILED, WE BLESS; BEING PERSECUTED, WE ENDURE; 13 BEING DEFAMED, WE ENTREAT. WE HAVE BEEN MADE AS THE FILTH OF THE WORLD, THE OFFSCOURING OF ALL THINGS UNTIL NOW." 1 Corinthians 4:9-13 (NKJV)

One thing is sure, because God is a just God, He would not allow you to be tempted or be exposed to the trials which could not be handled by you: "THE only temptation that has come to you is that which everyone HAS. BUT YOU CAN TRUST GOD, WHO WILL NOT PERMIT YOU TO BE TEMPTED MORE THAN YOU CAN STAND. BUT WHEN YOU ARE TEMPTED, HE WILL ALSO GIVE YOU A WAY TO ESCAPE SO THAT YOU WILL BE ABLE TO STAND IT" (1 Corinthians 10:13 New Century Version).

God knows you can handle that Temptation, that is why He has allowed it. Job was tempted by the devil, under the supervision of God. Whatever the temptation being meted or measured out by the devil on a faithful child of God is being supervised by God Himself.

If you passed the test brought your way by the devil, you are a pride to God and His Kingdom. Afterwards, a greater responsibility would be given to you.

Every level which you are moved or promoted to, has Its challenges—the confrontations of the adversary, the devil.

Jesus used the Word of God to flatten, knock down, the devil (Matthew 4:4,7,10). You had to be strong in the Word of God, fastings, and prayers.

The decision and choice to do God's Will would provoke the devil to challenge and fight you (2 Timothy 3:12).

Whenever a decision to live for God is made; to separate or consecrate yourself, pray and fast, the devil would surface to resist, fight, and attempt to stop you.

If you are not strong in the Word of God, If the devil surfaces, how would you handle him? THE devil has set to rise against those who are loyal to God and His Kingdom: "AND THE DRAGON [the devil or Satan] was wroth with the woman, AND WENT TO MAKE WAR WITH THE REMNANT OF HER SEED, WHICH KEEP THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD, AND HAVE THE TESTIMONY OF JESUS CHRIST" (Revelation 12:17 NKJV).

Resist the devil in whatever test, or Temptation, brought your way.

Do not give up. Promotion and Blessings are your lots when you overcome.

You will not be a disappointed to God and His Kingdom on Earth in Jesus' name.

Whatever is contrary to your health is cursed in Jesus' name.

I declare an end to your afflictions and sicknesses in the mighty name of Jesus Christ. Peace!

STEPS TO SALVATION

Take notice of this: IF you are yet to take the step of salvation, that is, yet to be born-again, do it now, tomorrow might be too late (2 Corinthians 6:1,2; Hebrews 3:7,8,15). a. Acknowledge that you are a sinner and confess your Sins (1 John 1:9); And ask Jesus Christ to come into your life (Revelation 3:20). b. Confess that you believe in your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that you confess it with your mouth, Thus, you accept Him As your Lord and Saviour (Romans 10:9,10). c. Ask that He will write your name in the Book of Life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 3:8).

If you took the steps As highlighted above, It means you are saved—born-again. Join a Word based church in your area and Town or city, and be part of whatever they are doing there. Peace!

[junhyukiscute]

(5:27 pm) his pov from part one

jungwon would never admit this to anyone willingly- except for that one time his older sister accidentally found out- that he had a small infatuation with you in the past.

in middle school, you guys had been playing cops and robbers. you, being the weirdo you were, had ran to save him out of jail and failed, which consequently got you stuck in jail with him. he enjoyed the close contact, despite never being good with girls. frankly, you didn’t treat him or any other boy as meanly as the other girls did.

you smelled like fresh lemons on a summers day.

he had moved to the countryside to take care of his mom for a bit since her health was failing. despite everything he did to keep her as healthy as she could be, she had passed away on one afternoon while he was at school. during her funeral which consisted of him, his sister, his father, and his grandma, he was emotionally exhausted and sat outside the funeral home.

if i kept in contact with you, would you be on the other side of the phone and comfort me?

he shook his head at that thought. why was he thinking of you out of all the times?

when his grandma decided to take jungwon back to seoul, she enrolled him into a nearby high school. to say he was surprised at seeing your familiar face in the classroom would be an understatement.

“class, this is our new student, yang jungwon. be nice to him.”

the class had no volunteers to join the classroom rep committee, and this one jeongwoo dude decided to sacrifice jungwon before anyone else would be forced to join (“it’ll allow him to get familiar with his peers!”). immediately after jungwon was chosen, you rose your hand up too and decided to go for it. jungwon turned back to see you smiling brightly. when you guys locked eyes, he saw the same friendliness you held back in middle school. he quickly turned back and tried to calm down his heart that suddenly skipped a beat.

i knew that you must’ve changed somehow, but the familiar sense of nostalgia you gave me hadn’t.

he admitted that even after all these years, he still didn’t know how to act around you. because he was still a developing teen, he was confused on how to treat you. sometimes, he’d smile and call out your name, only to later kick his blankets at night, thinking, “i tried too hard. i probably sounded like a creep to them…” that’s when he decided to play it safe and make sure that he didn’t seem like some lovesick puppy, but instead a handsome yet chill guy. “was i playing it cool enough when they waved at me this morning?”

it was after school when jungwon had noticed that you hadn’t left with the others once the meeting was finished. he was in a dilemma. should he wait for you? should he go home? he looked at the sky to think of an answer, only to realize that he had been standing there for so long that you had been preparing to leave the premise.

“you took a long time,” jungwon said. he decided to take a leap of faith.

“… wanna go to the subway together?”

you said yes. he looked the other way and bit his lip from breaking out into a smile or a sigh of relief (could he do both?).

i wasn’t rejected.

the silence was comfortable. he’d sneak glances at your focused form and wonder what got you thinking so deeply. when the subway came, he stood up in your front view in hopes that you’d snap out of it or else you might miss the train.

“actually, jungwon, i just realized i forgot something back at school. you can go home first.”

“oh, alright,” he replied with, hoping that you wouldn’t notice the disappointment laced in his voice. he took slow steps into the train and the heavy feeling grew only more. he glanced at you one last time.

would they get home safely?

screw it.

before he knew it, his body moved by itself and he quickly jumped out of the train before the doors could close. the feeling of adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he saw that you were standing still in the same position, eyes closed tightly.

he remembered that it was how you looked when you asked him to go with you to the summer festival two years ago. he cancelled last minute due to the appearance of his mom’s declining health. he hated how crushed you must’ve been, standing at the festival entrance for hours without notice. you were hoping for something. what was it?

“... jungwon?” you asked hesitantly.

jungwon gave you a dimpled smile as the you have him the answer he secretly anticipated for. you were hoping for him to stay- afraid of him leaving you like the last time. he brushed your question off by saying he’d accompany you to school. you were still as forgetful as always, he chuckled on the inside. slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking back to school, he noticed you were still in the same place, but with an excited gleam in your eyes that screamed of relief and happiness. 

“are you gonna follow or what? slow poke,” he teased, hoping that you’d stop having that annoyingly cute look on your face. why did you have such an effect on him while doing the absolute minimum? what did you think about? jungwon grew slightly frustrated at how his curiosity on you only deepened. 

is it weird to say that i want to get to know you better?

once he saw the bright smile appear on your face, he turned his head around and kept walking, hearing your increasingly louder footsteps catching up to him. with a smile on his face and bright red ears, jungwon looked up at the clear blue sky.

mom, i think i’ve found a person who i like. i want to make them happy, just like you did for me.

this time, i’m going to stay.

[hollandsmushroom]

A dom tom were the reader find him playing cod and she plays with him but then she say im going to get a snack and then she have an idea and put the song white tee summer Walker and come to tom and gave him. A lap dance. 🌝I hope you understand and yes i forget and then tom fucks her sooooo rough and haaaaarddddd and faaaaast and please let her sqouirt 2 times please ♏♏♏♏

Okay, I really hope that I got this right, and I hope that you like it. I wrote this in what felt like a fucking fever dream, like it just poured out of me.

A/N: This was my first time writing Dom!Tom or really even this rough of sex, I’ve never really written degradation before but I hope you enjoy. 

Request Something(Or tell me your thoughts on this piece)

Masterlist

Summary: Just look at the request

Word Count: 2,417

Warnings: Pure Filth, Degradation, Fingering, Lap dance, spanking(a couple mentions), Overstimulation, Riding, Squirting, internal Orgasm, Dom!Tom, Mean Dom!Tom, Biting, If I missed anything I’m sorry. 

 Silence filled your ears as your feet led you mindlessly down stairs, the knuckle of your thumb rubbing into your eyes as you tried to swipe away the sleep that had built up during your nap. You were in search of your boyfriend, waking up with an insatiable urge to hold him, that wasn’t the only thing that you wanted to do but your intent was not to go for the x-rated part of your needs first, you wanted to see you you could get Tom to initiate it, to tempt him. You followed the only noise you could hear in the house, guiding you to your boyfriend. Small utterances of exasperation leading you to the den. You leaned your shoulder against the door jam, watching Tom where he sat, his thumbs flitting rapidly over the controller, only making you think about how they would feel on your clit, rubbing over the pulsing nub. You shook your head, a physical attempt to shake those filthy thoughts loose from your brain. Your movement caught Tom’s attention, dragging his eyes from the TV to your oversized t-shirt clad frame, hair a mess from your pillow, a lazy smile  adorning his cheeks as he turned back to the screen.

“Afternoon sleepy head” he chided, eyes flitting back to you before scooting over on the couch. “Come sit” he offered, the empty space next to him inviting your form. You shouldered yourself off of the wall, walking towards Tom and picking up your pace for the few steps that you impaired his vision, your body colliding with the soft cushions of the couch as you fell back. You cheek met Tom’s bare shoulder, leaving light kisses in your way of saying Hello to him. 

“Love, you’re distracting me” he hummed, raising his shoulder and pushing you away from him, a small frown developing on your lips as you pouted at him, that hadn’t worked, an immediate and offhanded denial of your affections, this may be a little harder than you had thought. 

“Was only trying to love you but okay then” you bit at him, slightly grumpy at the rejection. 

“Sorry, babes, I’m trying to beat this level” he explained, it made more sense now but it didn’t mean you liked it. 

“Can I play?” you asked, if he was going to deny your affection then maybe you could do something with him, a lay over to your actual intention seeing as you had resolved that you would get dicked down before the sunset. 

“F’course, doll, here” he passed you a controller that was sat on the coffee table in front of you, not making eye contact but you purposely brushed your hand against his as you took the remote out of his hand. You pressed the center button and joined the game, smiling as you began to play alongside Tom. Throughout the game you made moves on him, getting closer to his body, rubbing your bare thigh against his, biting your lip in concentration and he managed to ignore all of it. 

You let out a moan when you character died, under the guise it was a moan of frustration but it came out close to pornographic, making Tom’s ears prick up his eyes moving to watching you next to him, your legs spread and you panty clothed core showing from under the hem of your shirt, a small wet patch catching his eye, a smirk spreading on his lips in realization, you were needy. 

“M’ gonna go get a snack” you mumbled, standing up and stretching your arms above your head, arching your back and sighing in pleasure, the upward motion of your shoulders exposing your panties and the bottom of your stomach. Tom knew what you were doing, and it made something boil inside of him, you were being a little brat, you could just ask for what you wanted, but no, you went about it this way. 

“kay” Tom responded, watching as your hips swayed on your way to the kitchen. He smiled to himself at your actions, proud that he managed to make you as horny as this without even doing anything. He went back to his game but his attention was no longer fully in the graphics that flashed across the screen, his mind now focused on the memory of your tight cunt and how well he filled you as you would scream his name, begging to cum. He noticed the addition of music to the atmosphere as you strutted back into the room, a devilish smile on your face as you fell to your knees in front of Tom, hands resting on his knee caps as you pushed them away from each other to spread his legs. His eyes widened at your bold movements, setting his remote control next to him on the couch and placing his hands behind his head. 

“Watcha’ doing, Love?” he hummed as you began to rise from your place on your knees, your chest brushing against his hardening cock, your pointed nipples poking through your shirt and catching Tom’s eyes as you continued to go up his body. 

“Giving you a show” you spoke as if it was obvious, because, well, it was. Tom captured his lip between his teeth as you put your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your hips down against his, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat as you threw your head back, arching your chest into his face. His hands went to grab your ass, instinct beginning to take hold, his need to dominate the situation, but you slapped his hands away. Crawling off of Tom’s heated body. You stood in front of Tom, stripping your top off and grabbing your breasts in your hands, pinching your nipples and biting your lip, looking Tom in the eye, teasing him. You turned around, bending down as if you were touching your toes and giving your ass a small shake, Tom had to hold his hand back from smacking or biting the supple flesh that was so tauntingly jiggling in front of his face. You sat back, placing your hand on his thighs and your ass on his dick, once again grinding down against him, this time making him moan. You began to move your hips in circles to the final beats of the song that you had been dancing to, your hands going back to behind both yours and Tom’s head, grasping that back of his neck and bringing you back flush to his front, arching your naked chest up as you finished your movements. 

As soon as the last notes of the song played out Tom’s hands were on your breasts, squeezing them harshly and tweaking the nipples aggressively between his fingers. 

“So needy for me, Love, you could have just asked,” Tom teased, his lips moving to just beneath your ear and beginning to suck on your sweet spot, sweet moans falling from your lips. 

“Tommy!” you moaned loudly, but you needed more “I need you Tommy, I need you” you breathed out between sighs of pleasure as the little stimulation he was giving you.

“What do you need, baby?” he wanted to hear you beg, to cry out in need for his cock or tongue or fingers.

“All of you, Tommy” you whimpered pitifully, the squeeze on your nipples nearly becoming too much. 

“Yeah? All of me, huh, how's this?” he asked, his fingers slipping into the front of your soaking wet panties, immediately applying ample pressure to your clit with his thumb and to fingers teased your dripping entrance, he smirked as he realize that your arousal had spread along your thighs and down your taint, pride growing in his chest at just how desperate you were for him. His fingers sank into your core without warning. 

“FUCK” you cried, his fingers beginning to slide in and out of you at a rapid pace, dragging against every ridge of muscle that adorned the walls of your tight cunt. His fingers picked up the pace, the only sounds in the room being your sighs and pants of pleasure and his fingers digging into you as if he was searching for something at your cervix. He bit down on your neck, whispering quietly to you. 

“You take my fingers so well, needy little slut aren’t you” he sucked over the spot he had just bitten, groaning as your hips ground back into his. “My needy little whore, all mine,” he whispered, his words in juxtaposition to the tone of his voice which carried the tone of worship, and it was, just your unique form of it. He curled the tips of his fingers into the soft spongy spot that hid deep within you, your legs trying to clamp around his hand as he repeated the motion. 

“T-T-Tom, I’m g-gonna cum” you managed to get out through the pleasure that was taking hold in every part of your body. His knees hooked in the inside of yours, holding you open for him to continue his assault on your core. 

“Cum for me, let go on my fingers, soak my palm, feel lucky that I’m letting you cum you fucking tease” he encouraged your orgasm, his thumb pushing upwards and harder against your clit, the extra pressuring sending you spinning into your orgasm, your cunt emitting a sloshing noise that made Tom bite his lip, knowing what had just happened as his hand got insanely wet. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from your orgasm, the world around you seeming to still as you felt and uncommon amount of cool between your legs, your soaked panties sticking to your core as Tom withdrew his hand, turning you around in his lap so you faced him, watching as he brought his fingers to his parted lips and sucked them clean of the cum that now graced his pale digits, pulling pack and flattening his tongue against his palm, licking the slickness that had gathered on his palm.

He didn’t let you fully catch your breath, lifting you by your hips, ridding you of your soaked panties and sliding his pants down his hips, positioning his cock with one hand and guiding your hips with the other, slamming you down onto his length, fully sheathing himself in your heat with the first thrust. A scream ripping from the back of your throat as tears pricked your eyes, the stretch nearly too much for you to handle. 

“You’re gonna take what you get, this is what you get for teasing me” he bucked his hips up into yours, your ass slapping his thighs, the impact stinging your cheeks as he continued the motion, the relentless pull of his foreskin against your walls burning through your body as you arched your chest into Tom’s face, his teeth capturing one of your nipples and biting down hard, a mixture of pain and pleasure exploding through your body as you felt another orgasm building up in you. 

“Tom, I-I’m gonna cum again” you panted, it all felt too much but his lips replaced his teeth and he sucked relentlessly on your nub, tears leaking down your face as you came again, squirting onto Tom’s lap, it splashed off of where you skin met and soaked the bottom of Tom’s shirt, something you’re sure he would enjoy and avoid washing it for at least a couple days. Your body shook as everything went fuzzy, your head throwing back in pleasure causing your neck to crack but you didn’t care, too focused on the overstimulation of the fact your boyfriend's thrust had not slowed, in fact they had sped up. 

“Tom, can’t-I can’t, it's too much” you whimpered, your body feeling like an ember as Tom flipped your positions, your back meeting the cushions of the couch as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly. 

“You’re gonna take it baby,” he demanded, knowing that if you really needed it to stop you would say the safe word. “I’m close baby, but I’m gonna make you cum a third time before I fill you with my cum, like the little cum slut you are,” his voice was shaky, he was fighting against his orgasm, wanting to see you fall apart one more time before he came and ceased his movement. Your body hadn’t fully recovered from your last orgasm when you felt your third one building already. 

“Tommy, I’m-” you didn’t finish the sentence, a mixture of cold and warm pleasure beginning to burn in your cunt, overtaking the veins in your lips and spreading down your thighs to your feet, toes curling in response as the feeling moved up as well, igniting your breasts and your mouth falling slack, your whole body going tense and Tom kept thrusting into you, cumming deep inside of your cunt with loud shouts of your name, but you couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. You came back when he pulled all the way out of you, grabbing his wet cock in his hand and jerking the rapidly softening flesh, letting the final spools of cum shoot from the slit in the tip and fall onto your sweaty cum covered frame. You watched as the white ropes landed on your skin, admiring how they looked till you couldn’t hold your head up anymore, letting it fall back into the cushions, eyes falling shut as your body went slack. Tom’s eyes widened as he saw this, worry rising in his body as you lacked motion, your breath too shallow and your sudden collapse leading him to think that something was seriously wrong. 

“Love?” he asked tentatively, praying that you responded. 

“Hmm?” you groaned, eyes fluttering open and meeting his worried orbs, highly contrasting to the pitch black shade of desire that they had been moments before. 

“Oh thank god, I thought I had fucked you to death, and though you brought it upon yourself that isn’t how I was hoping this saturday would end” his words making you giggle.

“I just needed that dick” you spoke as you tried to sit up, only to have Tom wrap his arms around you and pick you up, The cum that was on your torso rubbing against his shirt, now marking it with the both of your guys cum. 

“And you got it, now you need a bath” he kissed the top of you head softly as he lead you to the bathroom. 

Hope you liked it, let me know what you though

@thehumanistsdiary

[deepdarkdelights]

10 Years (Jungkook x Reader) (10 Seconds Part 3)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Manipulation, Murder, scenes of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Past Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Torture (not depicted), Cult Like Activity, Forced Relationships, Smut, Blood (lots of it), Fear, Contraception 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is.

A/N: SURPRISE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABIES! Just for you, here is part three! I spent a whole week dedicating hours to write it so I could have a treat ready for you this Halloween! To date, this is my favorite chapter and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did!

Read Part Here (1) // Read Part Here (2) // Read Part Here (4)

You had pissed him off, that much was obvious. His fingers were still curled into the fabric of your underwear, one flex away from ripping them off. His jaw was tense and his cheeks hallowed in irritation as he fixed you with his intense glare. Jungkook was many things to you, the number one being your source of immeasurable fear. In that moment though, your glare was just as harsh; you were just as angry as he was but for far different reasons. 

You were angry, but you also weren’t stupid. You knew that this could go one of two ways. You could fight back and piss him off further resulting in another punishment or him taking you anyways. Or you could play his game. 

For once, you thanked God that you were such a fucking crybaby because letting all your pent up feelings out was going to be good for what you were going to do next. Your lips trembled as your eyes watered, brimming with tears that threatened to wet your flushed cheeks. You clenched your eyes shut as a choked cry left your lips, your hand coming up to harshly smack his chest. 

“You don’t really love me!” You cried, trying to roll onto your side and away from him while curling your hands into your near naked chest. 

There was a pause of silence between the two of you, his confusion palpable. You pulled your legs free from him and curled up into a ball, loud sobs leaving your chest that sounded more animal than human. As your cries grew louder he finally snapped out of shock, his hands desperately reaching for you as you shrunk away from his touch. 

“Baby, baby!” He called, his voice sounding more hurt each time you rejected him; shrinking into yourself further. “Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?”

“No!” You yelled, sounding more like a petulant child than a scorned lover. “All you want is to use me, you don’t care about me!” You cried dramatically, turning onto your stomach so you could bury your face in your forearms. 

It was like all of the events you had endured were becoming fuel for you, each horrible thing he had done to you spurring tears upon tears to help your performance. You would make him believe you, you had to if it would buy you some time. 

“That’s not true! I love you more than anything, I just wanted to show you how much I love you, baby.” He said, his hands sliding over your waist and under your stomach to turn you over to face him. Your eyes remained clenched shut as he rolled you over, your face wet and hot from the tantrum you had thrown. You almost had him, you could feel him walking straight into your trap. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“You don’t care,” You sobbed, shaking your head. “You only want to have sex with me. You don’t even care about what I want.” You sniffled, bringing your shaking hands up to cover your tear streaked face.

“Fuck, that’s far from the truth. Please tell me what you want, baby. Please, I’ll do anything for you.” He whispered, his much lager hands gently curling around your smaller wrists and prying them from your face so he could catch a glimpse of you. 

Your heart pounded harder at his words, your first thoughts heading towards your freedom. But you quickly stunted that thought, you knew when he said “anything” he meant “anything but that.” You would have to make do with what you had, and your first mission was to keep yourself untouched by him. 

He brought your hand up to his face, pressing light kisses to each finger as soft pleas fell from his lips. He really was at your mercy, intoxicated by your scent, touch, and doe eyes. All it took was a few tears to have him like this for you. But you still knew better, you knew there was a beast lurking beneath the surface of those innocent round eyes and bunny-like smiles. You wouldn’t be fooled by him.

“I-” You began, a hiccup breaking your voice. “I want to save myself for marriage, I always have.” You said, forcing yourself to remain still as he ceased pressing kisses to your knuckles only stopping to raise your hand to cup the smooth flesh of his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as leaned into your palm, breathing in your scent just by your pulse.

“So, you’re my good girl then? No one else has touched you?” He asked, long lashes still grazing the dips beneath his eyes. 

You nodded in affirmation only to realize he still couldn’t see you. “Yes, no one has.” You agreed.

A sigh of relief had him falling limp against you, removing your hand from his cheek so he could press a kiss to the center of your palm. His demeanor had shifted so quickly even you were surprised. He gently looped his arms beneath your waist and dragged the two of you up into a sitting position, sliding you onto his lap with ease and pressing your chest to his own. It was horrifyingly intimate, the feeling of his bare chest flush against your barely clothed one. He was warm and strong and would have been comforting had the circumstances been different.

That was something you thought often: had the circumstances been different. But they weren’t. Jungkook was as selfish as he was lonely, and because of that he was delusional and overbearing. Sometimes his presence closed in so tightly on your own you felt as if you couldn’t get a single breath in. And because of that, you longed to be miles away from him. He was suffocating you so slowly and ever so painfully. 

His fingers wove themselves into your hair, guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder as he held you close. “I'll wait for you, and only for you.”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

He held you to his chest for a while and nothing was said between the two of you. There was only the steady rise and fall of your chests against one another while his fingers carded through your hair. Your eyes had fluttered shut yet your body was still tense, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be touched in this way. But you knew you could never fully let your guard down around him, he was far too unpredictable. But all that time spent with him had been in your favor, now you knew what made him tick. And you were going to exploit that.

Jungkook pulled you away from his body, his eyes tracing your face. He gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss, so light it was barely there, to your lips. You could feel him sigh against your lower lip before he reluctantly pulled away. He had to prove to you now that he wasn’t solely after your body, although that was an added benefit for him. He could wait, just for a little while longer.

He leaned over the side of the bed and scooped up his previously abandoned shirt, guiding your arms through the sleeves and pulling the collar down over your head. He couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your head popping up and out of the shirt, your figure drowning in his clothes. His eyes strayed, following where the hem of his shirt laid at the tops of your thighs. You were so tempting, it was no wonder you thought he was only after your body.

Before he could get too distracted he leaned over you and yanked the chain of the lamp, effectively drowning the two of you in a deep pool of darkness. You froze for a moment, your heart thudding as you lost sight of him and what he was doing. You couldn’t see him, but you could still definitely feel him. His strong arms had already curled around your waist, yanking you down on top of him. You yelped in fear as you once more collided with his chest. The man was like a fucking brick wall. You could feel the ginger brush of his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand to rest on his bare chest as he tucked your head into the crook of his neck. You were sure if anyone were to walk in you would look like lovers. How far from the truth they would be.

You were shaking now, the reality of what has almost happened finding you in the seclusion of the dark. But you had to remind yourself, you had outsmarted him this time. You were finally beginning to understand the game: fake it til you make it. If you could play along for long enough then you could find your way out of here. And you were more determined than ever. 

“You cold, baby?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence first. He must have felt you shaking. 

You nodded in response, trying to play off what you were actually feeling. Fear. Jungkook grasped the edge of the blanket and pulled it up higher, pressing the two of you together beneath the warmth of the covers. You closed your eyes once more, and this time you tried to pretend he was someone else. Anyone else. It was much harder than anticipated, you knew his scent, his touch, and his form. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of him. 

But you would try. 

You could feel sleep coming for you, the crash of emotions you had survived finally taking their toll on you once more. 

You had made it 10 days, how much longer would you have to last? 

“Baby,” Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

Long enough to escape, that was for sure. 

~~~~~~~

The next day, things already seemed to be so different. To say you were surprised was an understatement. The ten days of hell you had endured with Jungkook could have been a dream for all you knew. He still was the same way you remembered him to be, clingy, whiny, and overbearingly affectionate. But for the duration of that day, nothing he did had the same sexual undertone you had dealt with for the past ten days.

You were relieved, it seemed like you were finally getting a hold of your horrible situation. Well, for now at least. Jungkook was going to be far easier to fool than his father. And you couldn’t lie, his father terrified you to no end. He had trained Jungkook’s mother into absolute obedience with his unrelenting and ruthless nature. You were sure that if anyone was going to be able to spot your fakery from a mile away, it was going to be him without a doubt. So you had one choice, you were going to have to sell it good. 

And that meant having to do things you really didn’t want to do. 

Very quickly, you found yourself taking on the role of a traditional housewife. Jungkook had made it clear before that that was something he didn’t expect from you. All he wanted was you, or so he claimed. He said that he liked doing things together, he didn’t want you being forced into the traditional role you never truly wanted. But you knew what his father expected, and if you were going to win this game you were going to have to sacrifice a few of your pieces.

And you also knew that if you could keep this charade up for long enough, you could fool them all. It was only a matter of time, and you were willing to give up a few days, weeks, or months to find your freedom again. And if that meant making meals with Jungkook’s mother, cleaning the house, and folding fucking laundry you would do it all with a smile.

Days were passing faster and melting into weeks, and at this point you couldn’t really tell how long you had been missing. You wondered if your family was looking for you, if your friends missed you, or if everyone assumed you were dead in a ditch at this point, your flesh melting away and returning to the earth from which it came from. Sometimes, you even wondered if that would have been better. To have been discarded and left to disappear if it meant you didn’t have to pretend to be something you weren’t and if it meant that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of being punished for a misstep or cower under the sharp glare of Jungkook’s father. But you were determined, fucking terrified but so determined to make it out of this alive. 

The call of your name pulled you from the lull of your thoughts. You shook your head to clear you from your daze. Your hands were plunged under warm soapy water, a plate held in your motionless hands. 

“There you are, I thought I lost you for a moment.” Jungkook’s mother giggled, her small hands delicately drying the plate in her grasp. 

You gave her a gentle smile in response, lifting the plate from the water and giving it one more rinse before handing it over to her. There was one upside to this endeavor, you had someone you could call a friend. You liked her, it was hard not to with all of the time you spent together. Her warm, motherly nature was comforting in a place like this. And it made you miss your own mom even more.

“Jungkook seems happier lately.” She mused, gazing out of the window above the sink. You followed her line of sight, seeing Jungkook and his father outside on the back deck with the red flare of a cigarette tucked between his father’s lips. 

She wasn’t wrong, ever since you had started playing along he seemed more relaxed, happier even. Even now a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he listened to whatever his father was saying. But you could tell he wasn’t really listening, his eyes had that far off look to them like he was somewhere else entirely.

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” She said softly, setting down the freshly dried plate to turn and look at you. “I’ve never seen him so happy before. Jungkook was always a quiet child, he kept to himself for the most part. But you bring out parts of him I rarely got to see.” She smiled.

Yeah, the depraved parts are what you brought out. You let out a gentle sigh, welcoming the faux smile you had grown accustomed to to settle on your lips. “I wish we could have met on different terms.”

That wasn’t a total lie. 

“I know, sweetie. The first couple years are always the hardest.” She replied, lightly resting her hands on the tops of your shoulders with a tender smile. “It just takes some time for people like us, outsiders, to get used to their way of life.”

This wasn’t the first time she had told you this and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes you forgot she wasn’t just a mother, she was a person who has been brainwashed so meticulously you had no doubt all of the work that had been done on her had no way of coming unraveled. And you would be damned if you were going to let that happen to you too. You liked her a lot, and she liked you too. But you had no doubt in your mind that if it came down to it, she would never help you escape. Most likely, she would turn you over to her husband and son. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even the person who had once been like you.

“I hope so.” You lied through your smile, gently squeezing her wrist in affirmation. Ever since you had stopped crying, it had become easier to lie. 

The sliding glass door off of the kitchen slid open with a click, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting into the kitchen. Jungkook’s father stood in the doorframe, peering into the kitchen and settling his gaze on you and his wife. He fixed you with a stern look, the look in his eyes practically freezing you to your spot like a deer in headlights. 

The only ones you were fooling were Jungkook and his mother. That much was obvious. 

“Baby!” Jungkook called, his bunny smile and doe eyes catching your attention from behind his father's shoulder where he was standing on the porch. 

He looked so relaxed compared to the first few weeks you had spent with him. Had you already lulled him into the belief that you were finally becoming compliant to his demands? You couldn’t be too sure. He was leaned back against the deck fencing, his elbows propped up behind him on the top of the fence. His one leg was a little stretched out in front of the other one as he looked at you, the golden cast of the setting sun bathing his lithe form. He looked like any other normal guy on vacation at the lake: a pair of ripped jeans tucked into thick boots and an open flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes lingered over the tattoos that decorated his arm, he really would have been any girl’s dream guy. It was a shame that he had to warp that into a nightmare.

Jungkook’s smile widened eagerly as he motioned for you to join him. Outside. 

Your heart began to flutter in your chest, it felt like the wings of a hummingbird thrumming in anticipation as the latch of its cage was lifted. You tried your best to calm yourself, you remembered what happened the last time you had fled into the woods, it had only taken mere moments for him to find you once again. You had not a doubt in your mind that Jungkook knew these forests better than anyone. You couldn’t run, not just yet. You hadn’t fooled everyone. You were sure that a better opportunity would arise. 

You took a calming breath and quickly dried your hands off before approaching the door. Jungkook’s father remained in the doorframe, his presence casting a shadow over you. He scared you far more than Jungkook did, and for the first time in your life you were willing to run into the arms of your captor if it meant he would keep you out of the way of his father’s wrath. That was the one thing you were sure of when it came down to it - Jungkook would protect you if he was in love with you like he claimed to be.

Your head was bowed low, your eyes fixed to your bare feet and the tile beneath them. You looked like a rabbit - you remained still like it would stop the curious predator from approaching. 

“Don’t try anything if you know what’s good for you.” He whispered lowly, his voice was gravelly and deep in his chest. The smell of smoke wafted under your nose as he stepped to the side, allowing you access to the deck. You flinched from his sudden movement before hurriedly rushing past him and outside. 

The fleeting sun felt so good against your skin, your chest heaved as you took in a deep inhale of the fresh air. It felt like layers of clothes and weights had been removed from your body and the oppressive weight of Jungkook’s father’s stare was confined to the inside of the lake house. This was the freest you had felt in weeks, or what had most likely turned into months. Time was escaping you faster and faster every day.

You jolted in surprise, your eyes fluttering open as Jungkook’s fingers grazed the smooth skin of your hand. You hadn’t heard him approach in your moment of euphoria. He looked down at you with a gentle smile and a gleam to his chocolate brown eyes. He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is. The last thing you wanted was to fall victim to Stockholm syndrome. And you knew you weren’t, he still made you uncomfortable and he had done awful things to you. Thoughts like those could override any one of his sweet, innocent looks. For now. If you didn’t act faster, time would grasp you in it’s clutches. 

Jungkook raised his hand to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking the flesh of your cheek as his other hand came to rest on your waist. He looked at you like you were the center of the universe, like nothing else mattered to him anymore. His touch was warm but his gaze was uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to look at you like that, like he was in love with you. Not after everything he had done. 

But you also couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that understood him. His father was fucking horrible and he had you, his wife, and his son all under his thumb. Jungkook and his mother were captives just as much as you were. That was the only sympathy you had ever felt for him.

Jungkook’s eyes had slid shut, his large hand encircling your wrist and raising your open palm to his lips to press a light kiss to the center of your hand. That was something he had started doing, but you never dared to ask him about it. You had assumed it was his way of keeping himself together, like he was taking a small hit instead of drowning himself in ecstacy. It was like he was pacing himself with you.

“Walk with me?” He whispered, his eyes slid closed as he breathed in your scent, the two of you encompassed by the light of the setting sun. 

“Okay.” You answered softly, trying to keep your legs cemented to where they were before they took flight and had you fleeing the lake house once again. 

Jungkook smiled at you again, his fingers hastily lacing yours with his own. His tight grip would be enough to keep you grounded for now. 

He led you down the steps until your feet met the soft grass once more. The cuts to your feet had healed and the feeling of the grass between your toes was soothing and comforting. Jungkook’s grip was loosening and  allowing him to gently tug you in the direction of the lake. You had only seen it from the windows of the house and just barely when it was illuminated by the moon that night you had tried to flee for the first time. You pushed down the thoughts of escape as your pace began to match his, your hands hanging between the two of you and swaying gently as you approached the little beach at the edge of the large, blue lake.

Your eyebrows began to knit together in confusion as you caught sight of the full stretch of the beach. There looked to be a little porch that began on the grass and stretched over the sandy beach. It had a wooden terrace stretching overtop decorated with fairy lights and was exposed to the sky above. You could see there was a thin air mattress set on top of the deck area covered in various pillows and blankets with a cooler set aside. It was insanely intimate and bordered on romantic. Had he set this up for the two of you?

You shivered in discomfort, unsure of what to do. Maybe you should suggest walking down by the water, you really didn’t want to go over to that “love nest.”

“Arms out.” Jungkook suddenly said, sliding in front of you. You looked at him in confusion until he set his hands on your arms and raised them up by your sides. He wordlessly slid the flannel off his shoulders and began to help you slip the sleeves onto your bare arms. He thought you were cold again. At least you could use that as an excuse during your ploy.

The shirt was big on you which was no surprise at this point. All of his clothes were baggy on you, most of them were baggy on him too. You looked like a child who had gotten into their parents closet. But the look in Jungkook’s eyes spoke volumes. It was a possessive thing, he liked seeing you in his clothes, he liked it when his scent lingered on you. He liked that he had you where he wanted you. Little did he know, you had him where you wanted him as well. 

Once he was done fixing his shirt around you he smoothed the collar down and sent a smile your way. “Come on.”

Jungkook tried to walk forward, your grip on his hand stopping him short. He pivoted on his heel, the sand kicking up slightly. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your lower lip as your eyes focused on the sight of a little crab crawling quickly across the surface of the sand. “Can we go over there?” You asked, jerking your head in the direction of the lake. 

Jungkook turned, his dark eyes settling on the waves rushing over the shallow drop off of sand. “Hm, not today. It’s pretty cold, I don’t want you to get sick sweetheart.”

“I won't,” You tried once more, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“We’ll go tomorrow.” He cut you off, his eyes boring into your own. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that this wasn’t up for debate. If he wanted to do something that badly, he was going to do it. He gave your hand a firm tug and pulled you into him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders and tuck you into his side.

You didn’t look at him as you walked, your eyes fixed to the sight of your toes turning over the sand as you walked. But you could feel his stare burning into the side of your head like it always was. Every time you thought just maybe he couldn’t be that bad, he reminded you quickly of what your situation was like. He has the final say in everything, whether he agreed or disagreed with you. 

The two of you stepped up onto the little wooden terrace, Jungkook taking a seat on the mattress and pulling you down in between his legs allowing your back to lean up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and set his chin on the top of your head. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon of the lake casting an ethereal glow over the water. 

You were glad you didn’t miss this sight, you supposed. It was probably the most uplifting thing you had seen in a long while. It wouldn’t be long now before the sun disappeared and it would be dark across the lake. Already the lights strung up above you seemed to be growing stronger as the sun faded away. 

You could feel Jungkook’s hand coming up to play with your hair, his touch the most delicate it had ever been. It was so gentle that if you closed your eyes you could pretend it was just the wind ruffling your hair. He spoke your name softly, the hand that had occupied your tresses caressed the length of your arm and settled on the top of your hand. Your brows knitted together in confusion as you felt his other hand flip yours over and settle something in the center of your palm. It was smooth, cold, and metallic to the touch with hard edges. 

You dropped your chin and searched for whatever it was he had just given you. He laughed softly, cupping your palm shut so that you couldn’t see.

“Ask me.” He simply said, his eyes aglow with mischief.

“Let me see.” You said, trying to pry your fingers open beneath his hold. It was no use.

“Try again, maybe a little nicer this time.” He teased.

 You huffed in frustration, already over whatever he was up too. “Jungkook, give me back my hand, please.” You said, adding more emphasis than needed on the “please.”

He chuckled low in his chest and released his grip on your hand. Without thinking you uncurled your fingers and looked at what he had given you. On sight you felt a wave of nausea roll through your stomach, your heart dropping in your chest. 

Sitting delicately on the smooth skin of your palm was an engagement ring. 

You couldn’t move, you were frozen in absolute fear. The only thing you could feel was the violent thudding of your heart in your chest and the beginnings of a cold sweat on your neck. You had either played your part too well, or Jungkook was more than aware of what you had been doing. You couldn’t rule out his father either, he was just as likely as having a hand in this. 

“I’ve waited for ten years to ask you to marry me, and I can’t imagine a better time than now to finally ask you.”

You were spiralling, you could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming. Your vision was focusing and unfocusing, the sound of your rapid heartbeats pounding in your eardrums. Were you having a heart attack? It felt like you were having a heart attack. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your lungs were swelling and cutting off any oxygen that tried to slip into your mouth. 

But there was one thing you could focus on, he said ten years. That math didn’t make sense, when the two of you had first met in highschool and that was only four years ago. 

“Ten years?” You echoed, the panic clear in your voice. How many more secrets was he harboring?

He hummed in response, his slender fingers picking up the diamond embedded ring from your grasp. You hadn’t realized how tightly you had been holding it until he took it from you, the diamond had made little incisions in your palm that were running with specks of blood. 

“I first met you when we were freshmen, but I first saw you when we were little.” He reminisced, a far off look in his eyes as he toyed with the ring. “I just caught a glimpse of you, but that was enough. You were wearing a white sundress and the cutest little butterfly sandals. I remember I asked my mom if you were an angel. She told me no, but I told her that I was going to marry you anyways because you were so pretty. And I kept my promise, didn’t I? 

You could feel yourself fading faster than the sun, you were so confused and panicked your body was on the brink of shutting down. You could feel the burn of bile rising up your throat as he lifted your left hand and gently slid the ring down your ring finger.

“You don’t have to say yes, but you can’t say no.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “That’s how it works in my family.”

~~~~~~~

You don’t remember much of what happened before you passed out, but you did wake up wrapped in Jungkook’s arms in his bed under the blankets. And that goddamn ring was still on your finger. And if things weren’t already bad enough, then they were bound to get worse. You were getting “married” in only a few days. 

To say that was jarring didn’t even cover half of what you were feeling. Not only was Jungkook trying to keep you bound to him in every way possible, but it was going to happen and fast. You tried to calm yourself by remembering whatever ceremony you were going to go through would not be legally binding. You wouldn’t actually be married in the eyes of the law. The two of you would have to get a marriage license and have it approved with witnesses, and there was no way you wouldn’t get help if you were dragged to a courthouse. Jungkook was persistant but he wasn’t stupid. This would be purely symbolic, and nothing more. But that thought did not drive away your stress or the butterflies in your stomach. 

And of course your short days full of trying on various dresses and hairstyles did not help one bit. Jungkook’s mom was excited, her face aglow with pure happiness as she chose dresses on your behalf and made even more decisions regarding  the ceremony on your behalf. Apparently, that was tradition. The “outsider” was rarely involved in situations like these, the mother in law and the prospective spouse took care of everything. You were too sick to your stomach to do anything, no matter what you said you knew that Jungkook wouldn’t listen to you. He had waited ten years to propose he said, there was nothing that would stop him from finally getting what he wanted. And once the two of you were “married” you were out of excuses to deny his advances. You were so fucked. 

Maybe you should have ran into the woods again when he had taken you out of the house. You should have just thrown caution to the wind and tried again. No, Jungkook would have caught you. You knew that. Maybe it would have been better to lay yourself in the lake and float away into nothingness. But you knew, no matter what you did or where you went Jungkook would follow you to the ends of the earth. He was inescapable, and the thought of that left you with an intense feeling of claustrophobia. Much like the prey you were, he would hunt you down and corner you with no possibilities of escape before going in for the kill. 

It still wasn’t time to run yet, you had convinced yourself of that. Now really would be the worst time to flee with the influx of members of Jungkook’s family arriving for the “wedding” that was to take place. Just the thought of that word had your stomach churning in unease.

His family was much larger than you expected and, to your horror, they all were just like him. Every single one of them knew about your predicament, and in fact amongst them were people like you who had been dragged into this life. Amongst the supposed wedding party were kidnappers and victims who were all coming to celebrate another successful hunt and capture of a prize. 

It only took five days to gather everyone and everything for the ceremony. It had all been rushed in order to get you to this point where you were once again in the room you had first woken in when Jungkook had taken you. Or, as his mother liked to call it, the bridal suite. The room itself hadn’t changed though, the walls were still that off white color, the barred windows still surrounded my lacy, gauze curtains, and the bedspread was still baby pink, white, and frilly. The only difference was the wedding gown hanging from a hook on the bedroom door.

You ran your fingers through your freshly washed hair, knotting the tresses in your hold and tugging in anxiety. Your leg was bouncing rapidly, how had it gotten to this point? How were you supposed to go out there and do this? You couldn’t. Not when you were about to be surrounded by kidnappers and their pets kept closely to their side. 

A knock to the door had you rocking back in surprise, your head jerking up to see who was there. The door remained shut and silence followed suit. You looked on in curiosity until a voice called your name through the door. 

“Are you decent, sweetheart?” It was Mrs. Jeon. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice cracking. The shower you had just taken wasn’t enough to hide all of the crying you had been doing all morning. But at least you didn’t have to see Jungkook, that was one upside. He refused to come near you until the ceremony, he was a firm believer that it was bad luck to see you beforehand.

You were grateful. 

You heard the click of the lock being undone before you saw the door swing open and Mrs. Jeon pocket the key she held in her hand. She looked happy, far more excited than you had anticipated. She was already done up for the ceremony, a formal dress laid over her figure and her hair twisted into an updo. She was naturally pretty and you could see what resemblance she had to her son. It sent a chill down your spine.

Not much was said between the two of you as she ushered you over to the vanity, gently gripping the tops of your shoulders and guiding you down onto the stool. Her work was done quietly and delicately. And you were so out of it, you didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were dull and unfocused, staring into the mirror but not processing what you were seeing in the slightest. 

“Sweetheart, what I’m going to tell you will be very important so I need you to listen closely.” She hummed, her hands fluttering around your face as she began to lightly apply makeup. “Have you ever been to a wedding?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as she gently applied eyeshadow to your lids. “Yes.”

“Good, then you already know what to expect. But, there are going to be some changes.” She said, tilting your head back with a feather light touch. “During the ceremony, don’t say anything.”

“What?” You asked, your face tensing in confusion. You felt her hands gently tap your cheeks, a silent way of signaling you needed to relax the muscles of your face. 

“Jungkook will take care of everything, vows and all. You just need to be there as he does so.” She explained. That made sense in some twisted way. If no part of the ceremony involved you talking, then you couldn’t exactly say no. “The objections will be left out as well.”

How ironic. 

“Other than that, things will go exactly how you expect them too. As long as you do your part, everything will be just fine.” She smiled as you opened your eyes once more. 

You felt her hands lightly smoothe your freshly styled hair, a fond look gracing her kind features. You felt a strange connection to her, you supposed it had to do with your shared experiences. She was taking on the role of a twisted mentor, imparting some of her “wisdom” onto you to help you as best she could.

The part you were most scared of came next, the dress. You tried your best not to look at yourself as the chiffon and lace slid smoothly over your bare skin. It was cool to the touch, light and airy unlike most dresses you had seen brides wear. By all rights it was stunning, you only wished you didn’t have to wear it if it meant that you would be walking down the aisle towards a man you never dreamt of being yours.

You wore no veil, and for that you were thankful. You couldn’t stand the thought of Jungkook having to lift it from your face like you had seen done before time and time again. Instead, a halo of white carnations and fabric butterflies graced the crown of your head. They were real, their scent fresh and welcoming. A part of you ached at the thought of them withering away, their stems having been sliced apart. They were beautiful, but would only be that way for a fraction of time.

You seated yourself on the edge of the bed, your bare feet gently grazing the silk of the comforter. Your heart was pounding wildly, this was a different type of fear you had never felt before. It was the anxiety of having to provide a performance for all of Jungkook’s family and the knowledge that you couldn’t run. 

Mrs. Jeon knelt down to the floor, a soft groan falling from her painted lips as she felt the ache in her knees. She reached a slender arm out underneath the bed, retrieving a white box tied closed with a satin ribbon. You looked on in curiosity as she carefully untied the bow and set the ribbon on the mattress.

“I wore these, Jungkook’s grandmother wore them, and the women before her.” She explained as she tugged the lid of the box free.

Upon seeing what laid inside the box, tears immediately began to prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart pounding wildly against your ribcage. Your shaky hand came up to cup your mouth to stifle any cries that attempted to escape. Held between the soft hands of your captor’s mother was a set of leg cuffs, each cuff meant to be sealed around your ankles that were held together by a length of chain that would prevent you from taking the strides you would need to run. They were treating you like a prisoner. 

“I-I can’t put those on,” You choked, “Please, please don’t make me do it.” You sobbed, shuffling away from her as best you could. 

“Oh, sweetie.” She cooed, setting them back down into the box and bringing you into her motherly embrace. “It’s only for a short while, I promise they’ll be off by your first dance. And they’re not as heavy as they look and no one will see them under your dress.”

“I don’t want to.” You sniffled as her fingers gently tapped away the tears in an attempt to stop your makeup from running. 

“I know, neither did I.” She sighed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Jungkook thought you didn’t need them but my husband thought it would be for the best.”

You froze at what she said. His father wanted this. 

“He’s a man of tradition for sure.” She giggled, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to relax you. “It’ll be quicker than you think, trust me.”

There was no room for debate, you had learned that quickly with the Jeon family. They always got their way and never took no for an answer. You experienced that first hand. So, all you could do was close your eyes, clench your fists, and tense your jaw as she snapped the cold metal cuffs around each of your ankles. 

“See? Not so bad.” She hummed before taking your hand and helping you to stand. “Everyone is waiting on us, it’s best we don’t keep them waiting any longer.”

She guided you out of the room, the sound of the chain connecting your anklets dragging over the wood of the floor sent a cringe to your face. They were loud. From what you knew, the ceremony was to take place outside right in the fringe of the forest. At least there would be grass and maybe then they wouldn’t be as distracting or cacophonous as they were now. At least that was what you hoped, it was like if you pretended they weren’t there maybe they would actually disappear. 

You didn’t make it far before you felt that familiar, sharp glare digging into you. His father was already here. 

“Now, since your father won’t be able to give you away we’re going to. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Jeon smiled, a sharp contrast to the stoic face of her husband. 

The thought of having to wrap your arm around his own nauseated you more than anything. Being with Jungkook was like heaven compared to his father. You feared his hold and gaze to the point that you craved Jungkook’s touch. Anything was better than having to be that close to a man so evil. 

You didn’t respond, fear having paralyzed your throat. It didn’t matter what you said, it was going to happen anyways. That much you knew to be true. 

The three of you linked arms, you in the middle of the parents of your kidnapper. Mrs. Jeon held your left arm gently, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your forearm. Mr. Jeon gripped you tightly, his hold unrelenting and harboring a warning. You wouldn’t be surprised if once he released you his fingerprints would be left behind as purple marks to your skin. 

As the three of you began to walk and exit the lake house, your inescapability became far more apparent. You could see the large crowd of people waiting for you, their eyes burning into you. From the large group, everyone was lining the aisle with their arms linked like they were creating a chain of people in preparation for you. With a horrifying realization you came to understand what they were doing. They were forming a wall on either side of you, creating a tunnel to walk through that would prevent you from escaping. 

They had planned everything out perfectly, years of trial and error and countless “weddings” allowing them to perfect their formula. They knew what they were doing and had no intention of letting you go. They were all sick every single one of them. 

And what was most likely the most upsetting sight was the children in the group, even they  

joined in on the human paper chain. They were little blank slates, perfect models that were trained from day one on what their way of life would be. You couldn’t help but see Jungkook reflected in their gaze. In your mind you could picture him as a small boy, large brown doe eyes watching a bound bride floating down the aisle in her white dress. It was no wonder he was so fucked up, and evidently those children would grow up just like he did. 

This was the first time you thought about fixing Jungkook, as you were walking through the tunnel of people, white petals crushing beneath your feet, and the drag of the chain between your legs like a snake slithering through grass. This was the first time you had even considered that to be a possibility. 

Your head lifted as the thought entered your mind, your gaze flicking around until it settled on him at the end of the aisle under an arch of moss and carnations. He was dressed nicely, but not in a tux like many grooms had been. He wore dress pants, held up by a set of suspenders over his shoulders. The top few buttons of his shirt had been left undone and exposed some of the smooth, tan flesh hiding beneath the fabric. He had also rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, his arm of tattoos proudly on display. He looked relaxed despite the excited smile that lit up his face and the gleam of adoration in those dark eyes. Even you couldn’t deny how attractive he looked like that.

A firm squeeze to your arm had your teeth sinking into your lip as the three of you ceased walking, Jungkook mere steps away from you. This was the first time you wanted to run towards him instead of away from him because it meant you would be able to escape his father. 

“Behave.” His father whispered just beside your ear, his voice deep in his chest and laced with warning. 

Without another word, his hand slipped down your wrist and guided your hand into his sons. And just like that, he and his wife turned and took their seat. And you could finally breathe again. For now. 

Jungkook was smiling at you, that familiar bunny like grin gracing his lips. His hands cradled your own, holding them between the two of you. You were sure he thought all of his dreams were coming true. He tense his fingers, giving your hands a firm squeeze of excitement. You had never seen him happier.

You could see an older gentleman beneath the makeshift altar, you assumed he was there to “officiate” the proceedings. You couldn’t help but zone out, the sight before you was distracting. The makeshift wedding his family had created would have been something out of a dream had this all been voluntary on your part. Forest weddings had always appeared to be so beautiful, and now that you were here you couldn’t help but agree. Strands of green moss formed a canopy above the wedding party, delicate vines of white flowers hanging from above and all around you. The aisle you had walked down had been made of moss, grass, ferns, and flat stones littered with white flowers and petals. 

It was absolutely breathtaking, and you knew once the sun went down and the fairy lights flickered to life it would be even more stunning. 

You were suddenly snapped out of your daze as you felt Jungkook's hand cup the side of your face before leaning down to you and pressing his lips tightly to your own. 

You had missed the entire thing. 

You could vaguely hear the cheers of his family behind you as he held you close, kissing you surprisingly hard in front of his entire family. You could feel your stomach tightening in anxiety and your face flushing with heat in embarrassment. You felt him pull back for a moment, hot air brushing over your lips before he reconnected with you again, and again, and again until you grasped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him away. 

He smiled at you in satisfaction as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. He was showing off, letting everyone know that you were his and that there was nothing you could do about. 

Your heart was in your stomach, the dread piling up as you felt him tugging you back down the aisle. He giggled as you almost tripped, his strides too long for you to keep up with when your gate was impaired by the length of chain connecting your ankles. Without a word he turned and scooped you up in his arms, ironically carrying you bridal style back towards the lake house where the “reception” was to be held. 

You turned your head to look over his shoulder, your eyes widening as you watched his family rushing after the two of you in what could have very well been a stampede. Your eyes lingered on a few of the people coming after you, it wasn’t hard to see who was an “outsider” like you. They had that same hopeless hollowness to their eyes, their will having dried up a long time ago. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you caught sight of one woman. She walked quickly, trying to keep up with the man beside her as she adjusted the infant in her arms. She looked tired and depressed beneath her layer of makeup. You could see the strain of her smile smooth away when her eyes connected with yours. You could see the message she was sending you clear as day without saying a word. 

“I’m sorry.” 

~~~~~~~

The reception was the most normal part of the wedding and something you were more familiar with. The only change was instead of the garter removal, your leg cuffs were removed. There was a part of you that was glad you were spared the mortifying experience of watching Jungkook’s head disappear under the chiffon of your skirt and feeling his lips drag across the length of your leg as his teeth pulled the garter free from you. 

Although, the leg cuffs were just as horrible and embarrassing. You were certain if you didn’t calm yourself down you would be throwing up all over the pristine white dress you wore. You could visualize the pure horror that would spread across Mrs. Jeon’s face.

You were sure that that wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened though. But tonight you had been doing your very best to hide your disdain for everyone there, you still had a part to play regardless of the situation you had been put in. You didn’t have to look happy, you just had to hide your fear to the best of your ability. 

That was easier said than done. 

It was when Jungkook left you alone with his sister that your facade began to crumble away. 

“Jimin, Taehyung!” He yelled, his eyes lighting up as he darted away from the table you were seated at in excitement. You watched him race across the room to the two men he had called for, locking them into a tight embrace. 

Your legs twitched, the thought of fleeing always at the back of your mind. Now would be the worst time of all times, who wouldn’t be able to see the only one dressed all in white sprinting into the woods. The last thing you wanted to do was start a hunting trip.

The soft delicate call of your name reminded you that you were still in company. The empty seat that Jungkook once occupied has been filled by the slender form of his sister. She looked just like him, but softer and feminine. She had a gentle smile fixed to her lips that reminded you exactly of her mother. There was not a single bit of her father in her, genetic wise.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She grinned. “All of these years Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you and he only lets me meet you once you’re getting married, that little punk.”

You bit your lip before you could spit anything back. You could feel the blood leave your face as she spoke. It always disturbed you when you remembered for just how long Jungkook had been waiting for you, watching you, longing for you. 

“Hell, he was the first person I introduced to my boyfriend.” She said with a roll of her eyes, “I mean of course I couldn’t take him on my own, he was much too heavy for just me alone.”

Your heart stilled as you slowly turned your head to face her. “Too heavy?” You echoed, hoping she didn’t mean what you thought she did. 

“Mhmm, the first time I saw him was at the gym. He was just so much bigger than me I knew I couldn’t take him home on my own. So, I called Jungkook. He made things so much easier, he really is such a good brother to me.” She said with a fond smile, her eyes seeming to glaze as she reminisced. 

All this time, you had assumed it was only the men of the family that partook in the kidnappings. But no, it was anyone who was an “insider.” Anyone who was born into the family. That explained how Jungkook had made no mistakes when he took you, he had practice with someone much bigger than you were. You quickly reached for your glass of wine, chugging back as much of it as you could to calm yourself before you slipped into another attack. 

“He’s right over there,” She sighed, nodding in his direction. “Jackson and I have been together for about six months now, he’s a tough one to train that's for sure.”

You followed her gaze, your eyes settling on the man that stood mere inches away from her father. He was undeniably handsome, but you could still see the fear etched deep into his face as he stood next to Mr. Jeon. You were confused why he was still there, he was strong so he had to be capable of escape. In fact, you were sure he could take down Jungkook’s father quite easily. That was of course until you realized what his handicap was. You were confused for a moment, it looked like he was wearing a choker perhaps. But, upon further inspection you realized what it was. A collar. 

Jungkook’s sister hummed to herself, setting her clutch down on the table next to you before she undid it and pulled out a small remote. “It’s harder for women like us in this family. Subduing guys like Jackson isn’t easy. But one controlled shock works wonders.” She laughed, a sadistic smile curling into her mouth as she stroked the remote. 

So, that was the part of her father she inherited. 

You could see the horror on Jackson’s face as his dark eyes connected with the remote she held between her dainty fingers. Without her even saying a word he was rushing to her side in fear of her even thinking about pressing a single button on that remote.

You were light headed, the sudden realization of just how horrible this family was allowed the glass of wine to slip from your fingers, the dark red liquid spilling over some of the white carnations that rested in front of you decorating them in jagged, red stripes.

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice called to you, and for the first time that word was comforting to your ears. In comparison to his sister, you had lucked out when it came to the Jeon siblings.

You sent him a strained smile as you lifted the stem of the wine glass and set it back up right. Your gaze lingered on the stained carnations, a sour thought entering your mind as you realized their purity had been stained, and no amount of cleansing would ever get it back. 

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. Your wife and I are going to be best friends.” His sister smiled as her hand curled around Jackson’s.

The two of you looked at one another momentarily, and in his eyes you saw a mutual message. 

“Please, help me.” 

~~~~~~~

You didn’t know how much more you could take, that was for sure. Everyone there was beyond messed up and sent your heart racing just at the sight of them. You were relieved when the crowd began to drain, leaving only a few people loitering around as the night dragged on. 

You had tackled so much in one day, but you knew there was still more to come. 

As the last people headed to their cars, Jungkook’s mother grabbed you by your hand and led you into the house, leaving Jungkook and his father and his two friends outside.

You stumbled after her in confusion, shaken up by the pace she had set. She led you back into what had originally been your room and shut the door tightly behind the two of you. She leaned against it with a gentle smile to her face, but you could see something else in her eyes. She was concerned. 

“I wanted to give you your wedding present here.” She said softly, crossing the room to the dresser pushed up against the wall. 

“I don’t need any presents.” You replied, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip in stress as you thought of what was to come. You knew you couldn’t hold Jungkook back any longer now that you had run out of excuses.

“I think you’ll need this one.” She said, her voice cracking as she slid her hand behind the dresser and pulled something free. She hid the gift behind her back in both hands as she made her way back to you in complete silence. 

Without a word, she raised your hand palm facing the ceiling and set a container in your hand. On sight you immediately recognized what it was. 

It was birth control. 

“What?” You whispered in pure shock, popping it open to make sure it actually was what it appeared to be. 

You raised your head and your eyes connected with hers. She wore no smile like you had seen her with so many times. Her face looked tired and her eyes were clearer than you had ever seen them before. For a moment, she seemed normal. She seemed to be just like you. No words passed between the two of you, all you needed was to see the expression you had witnessed twice earlier that day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, help me.”

And now, “I understand.”

The four of you were all the same, people who were suffering and couldn’t escape. She understood better than anyone what you were going through, and she wasn’t as broken as she had originally let on. Some of the original her was still there, a soft ember of a fire that had been snuffed out years ago.

No words passed between the two of you, none needed to be.

~~~~~~~

You heard Jungkook enter before you saw him, your back facing him as you were settled on the edge of the bed. You could feel the bed dip as he climbed on, crawling over to you until his arms could wrap around your waist and his chin could rest on your shoulder. You could smell the wine on his breath as he chuckled.

“Hello, Mrs. Jeon.” He mumbled, pressing his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder with a hum.

A chill ran down your spine at his words, they were foreign to you, they just didn’t seem right because you knew them to be false. He raised his head, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw and turn your head to face him. His fingers lightly stroked the skin of your cheek as he leaned in uncomfortably close. You could tell he was buzzed, a lazy smile stretching across his face as his eyes traced every curve and detail of your face. He looked positively enamored. 

Without any warning he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own for a moment before pulling back for a breath and leaning in again, and again, and again. 

“I love you.” He whispered against the shape of your lips, his fingers gingerly stroking your cheek as his chest shook with each inhale. It seemed like he could never get used to the feeling of your lips, so warm, soft and wet. How could he not be intoxicated by you?

His tongue gently stroked your lower lip, a whine breaking free from his throat as you kept your lips together, refusing to let him in. Instead of growing frustrated, he let out a soft sigh and pressed another brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, laying a trail of kisses down your cheek and jaw before settling on your neck.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers twisting into his shirt as he began to leave hot, open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, low groans bubbling in his chest from the mere taste of your skin. You could tell how needy he was from the way he harshly sucked purple bruises into your neck, his tongue swiping over each fresh mark with a sweet moan at the end. 

“Love you so, so, so much.” He whispered, his fingers trailing behind your back to pluck at the tiny pearl buttons holding your dress together. You tensed up, but you didn’t push him away. He didn’t stop his assault on your neck as you felt each button springing free, the front of your dress becoming looser and looser with each motion. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips at one particularly harder suck to your throat causing Jungkook to shudder against you as he heard your light cry. He pressed his forehead against your own for a moment, collecting himself while his hands still tried to unloop the back of your dress.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you walking towards me, you looked so perfect, so beautiful. Just like an angel.” He said, his voice shaking as his lips trembled. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you like this, and it was worth the wait.” 

His fingers trailed up the exposed skin of your back, goosebumps raising in their wake. He gently traced the lace of your straps before pulling them down, shimming the delicate fabric free from your torso. His breath caught in chest at the first sight of your bare breasts, the cut of the dress in the back being too low to allow you to wear a bra. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, the tips of his fingers ever so lightly tracing the tops of your breasts. He was pacing himself for your sake, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep a hold of himself, especially with the ever present tightening of his pants at the back of his mind. 

He suddenly pressed his lips back to yours once again, this time more frantically and harder than before. His hands came up to your shoulders, pushing you back down into the mattress beneath you. He was breathing much heavier now, unwilling to part from your lips as he tried to roll the fabric of your dress down your hips without leaving you. 

He groaned in frustration against your mouth, pulling back to roughly pull the dress down your body and toss it over his shoulder into the recesses of the room. He sat on his knees, towering above you and staring down at you with a carnal look in his eyes. He hastily began removing his own shirt, his irritation growing as he struggled with each button in his haste.

With a final grunt, he pulled his shirt free and tossed it to join your discarded dress. You froze as your eyes trailed over his naked torso, your heart thundering as your eyes settled on his chest. A fresh clear wrap was sealed against his chest over his heart. You could feel your body tense up as you took in the new ink that had been etched into his skin. He had tattooed your name on his chest. 

Jungkook looked back at you in confusion, unsure as to what caused the look of pure fear to seep into the once passive and smooth features of your face. He followed your line of sight ending on the new piece he had.

 “Do you like it?” He suddenly smiled. 

“I got it as my gift to you. You’ll always be right here,” He said, interlacing your fingers once more and resting your joined hands on top of his heart. “I’ll always love you, my good girl.”

All you could do was clench your eyes shut, it was your only way of taking yourself out of this situation. You could feel his bare chest press against yours, his long fingers tracing over every curve of your body as he shook in excitement. How long he had waited for this moment. To have you in every way possible. 

“It’s alright, I know what to do.” He whispered as you jolted from the feeling of his hand grazing the hem of your underwear, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You shuddered as he slid them down your legs, another article of clothing that was meant to join the floor. You were tensed up tight, your legs clenched shut in anxiety as you felt his gaze burn into every feature of your naked body. 

“So perfect,” He hummed, “So beautiful.” He cooed, resting his head on your chest as he rubbed slow circles in your thigh, each stroke sending him closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. 

“Jungkook!” You cried as you felt him force your legs open in one strong pull. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied before quickly reaching down and stroking the length of your untouched cored. You shrieked at the unfamiliar feeling, clamping your legs closed around his intruding hand. 

“Come on, baby.” He said, coaxing your legs open. “I need to get you ready.”

All you could do was lean your head back into the pillows, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your jaw as he continued, his fingers ever so lightly coming up to rub firm circles into your clit. You choked a moan back, thighs trembling as you tried your best not to snap them shut once more. 

“So good for me,” He cooed, sucking hickies into the hollow of your collar bone as he pressed his fingers down harder, your hips jerking instinctively up towards the pressure. “So pretty, my wife. Mine.”

He was unrelenting, his tight grip on you sure to reappear as bruises tomorrow morning. He didn’t allow you to hide your desperate whines or shocked gasps from him as he continued to pleasure you, the feeling sending tingles straight from your core all throughout your body. As much as you didn’t want to be with Junhkook, you could admit you were happy he at least knew what a clit was and made this a lot less horrible for you. 

You winced at the feeling of his finger gently prodding at your entrance, a thin layer of wetness coating his finger as he pushed in. You jerked and tensed your muscles at the foreign feeling, trying to pull back and away. 

“Relax. I need to stretch you out.” He said firmly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around one of your sensitive nipples, your tight walls relaxing at the new feeling. And, without warning, he slipped his finger in and began to stroke deep inside you, parts that your own fingers would not be capable of reaching. 

“Fuck!” You cried, tossing your head back as he quickly found that part that made you feel incredibly hot.

“That’s my good girl, fuck.” He groaned into your blushing skin as he thrusted his finger in, grazing that spot that made a new wave of wetness come gushing out. 

“Jungkook!” You groaned, your hand coming between the two of you to lay limply at his chest as you twitched in pleasure. 

He groaned in response, sucking the hardened peak of your chest harder as he continued pumping his fingers, slowly pressing in a second. You whine at the stretch, shaking as you felt his hips begin rutting against your leg, his mouth popping free from you as a needy whimper leaves his throat. 

“I need you so bad, baby.” He whined into your skin, choked groans shaking his chest as he quickened the pace of his hips against your leg and the pace of his fingers strumming against your walls. 

He easily, and embarrassingly, slid his fingers free from your heat, a string of your desire following his retreating digits. Without saying anything he quickly brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck them clean with enthusiasm, his body shaking like he was in ecstasy just from the mere taste.  

“So fucking sweet.” He moaned, his hands frantically grasping the hem of his pants, shuffling them and his underwear down in one motion. 

You could feel the heat rising to your face at the sight of him, your eyes falling shut once more as your thighs fell closed. He was fucking huge and you didn’t think you could take him. That didn’t really matter now though, did it?

His hands slid down your hips, rubbing small circles in the hallows before he gripped each leg and forced them open and around his slender waist. You kept your eyes clenched shut as you felt him reach in between the two of you, the head of his length brushing against your slick entrance. You were tensing again, anxious for what was to come. You were sure it was going to hurt. You felt his hips push forward and the head of dick just barely slip in as you bared down in fear. 

A soft groan escaped him, his head dropping to your throat. “Baby, you gotta relax for me.”

You whined in response, your body still wound up tight. You could feel him sigh into your throat before his hand lightly caressed your leg and made its way back to your core, his fingers returning to rubbing those firm circles into your throbbing clit. Almost immediately, your walls began to flutter around nothing at the sensual touch, your lips parting as you trembled in pleasure.  And, before you knew it, he forced himself all the way in in one motion. A sharp cry left your mouth as you flung your arms around his neck, tears pricking in your eyes at the sudden flash of pain that invaded your senses. 

Jungkook was shaking above you, his eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy as he forced his hips to remain still. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard you could taste your own blood on your tongue. You groaned in discomfort, your cheeks feeling wet as a few tears escaped. You felt incredibly full, so full that it hurt. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing the tears streaked down your face he quickly tried to calm you. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.” He whispered, pressing kisses to each streak of tears. 

“Doing so well for me,” He cooed, his fingers quickly circling around your clit once more to work you through your discomfort with pleasure. “Such a good girl.”

As soon as he felt you begin to relax around him, your hips jerking up into his touch, he began to pull his hips back and slowly slide back in at a frustratingly slow pace. His jaw clenched as he kept himself under control, restraining himself from abandoning all restraint and just railing you like he wanted to.

But, once he felt your hips rolling up into his with that sweet whine of your voice he couldn’t help himself. Before you knew it, his hands were laced with your own and pinned down to the mattress, his pace quickening as higher, breathy moans left his chest, his lips leaving hot, wet, kisses to your neck before he rose his head and connected your lips again. 

You moaned into his mouth, surprising yourself at the sounds you were making. His tongue rolled over your lips and without restraint you parted your lips for him. A deep groan left his mouth as he curled his tongue against your own and pumped his length deep into you with a smooth pace. The only sounds filling the room were choked moans and the slap of skin against skin. 

You were already getting closer, the prepping he had done earlier bringing you to this point, the knot in your stomach tightening with each brush of the head of his dick against that spot deep inside you. Your legs tightened around his waist, your fingers gripping his own tightly as he filled you so good. Your walls were clamping down tightly around him, the feeling just far better than you had expected it to be. 

You could do this, you could use this to your advantage. 

One particularly hard thrust had you crying out against the wet, puffy flesh of his lips. You were sure tomorrow both of you would look like a wreck. Jungkook freed his hand from yours, returning to the soft bundle of nerves that begged for his touch. You cried out at the feeling of his length thrusting in and out of your wet core and his dexterous fingers rubbing firmly into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rambled, snapping into you harder and harder as he felt your warm walls begin to tremble around him. You were going to cum, he could tell. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Show me how good I was, cum all over my cock for me like the good girl I know you are.” He panted into the shell of ear, pressing down harder and fucking into your pliant body faster than before, drawing sharp cries of pleasure from you that you couldn’t keep in any longer.

“Cum for me, please cum for me.” He was practically begging you, you could feel his length twitch inside of you. He was on the edge just like you were, but he wanted you to let go before he did. 

And you did. With a loud cry your back arched, pressing your chest up into his own as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Pleasure shot straight from your core and all throughout every nerve of your body, your walls fluttering helplessly around him. You could feel his thrusts become less paced and more frantic, his eyes clenched shut as he chased his release. And the feeling of you tightening so painfully around him was enough to do him in. With a loud moan he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his hips working himself into you as he came in spurts, your body flinching at the unfamiliar feeling as you tried to catch your breath. 

He whined as he continued to come, filling you up with each pump of his cock. His hips were shuddering with each thrust until he finally fell limp against you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He mumbled, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your already marked up skin. He still hadn’t removed himself from you and you twitched still from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel his cum and his cock still inside you, like he was trying to stop any of it from dripping out. 

“I love you, baby.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next day you were incredibly sore and wrapped up in Jungkook’s embrace. You were sweating, you noticed. Even in his sleep his grip was unrelenting, strong, and inescapable. 

You had hoped after the wedding his parent’s would have finally left, but that was far from the truth. They were still there, and each week you waited for them to come and tell you and Jungkook that they were ready to go home. You wanted them to leave, but another part of you was still deeply worried for his mother. Her behavior had returned to what you knew, she smiled often, she gushed over her husband, and she coddled her son. There was no sight of the woman you had seen the night of your wedding. 

The only reminder you had of your encounter, was the birth control stashed safely behind the dresser in the room that was never used. You snuck in there every day at the same time to take them in secret.

When your period came a few short weeks after your wedding, Jungkook was visibly upset. He didn’t say anything but you knew what he was thinking. He was hoping the various times you had sex between the wedding and your period would have you fall pregnant. He pouted about it, but simply remarked that the two of you would have to try more. He took care of you, bringing you chocolate snacks, heating pads, and plenty of cuddling. Although you never asked for that last part.

You thought you were going to be safe, that this was the one thing you could get away with this time. It only took a few weeks for everything to fall apart.

You were in the shower when the shouting started. You paused for a moment, tilting your head in the direction of the bathroom door. It was a male who was shouting, but over the sound of the water you couldn’t tell who it was. It was the loud shattering that spurred you into action. In seconds you turned the water off and frantically dried your body, throwing on a hoodie and some sweatpants. 

You swung the door open and walked and quietly as you could down the hallway. The yelling was coming from the kitchen. You pressed yourself against the wall and peered into the room.

It was Jungkook’s father screaming at his mother. It looked like she had been making dinner, various pots settled on the stove as well as a kettle. There were ceramic shards littering the floor, you could only assume a plate had been thrown. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you are the only person in this house who could have done this!” He screamed, slamming down a container onto the counter causing his wife to flinch back in fear. 

It was your birth control. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out? It was a little strange that she was going in there every day at the same time wasn’t it?” He asked, his voice deathly calm. His wife didn’t respond, her gaze pinned to the floor. 

“Fucking answer me!” He screamed, whipping another plate at the wall right beside her head and shattering it into pieces. 

“It was strange.” She echoed, her eyes glazing over. 

“Don’t play games with me, I know damn well she didn’t get them, Jungkook didn’t, and neither did I. If you want your punishment to be easier than tell me the goddamn truth right now.” He snapped.

She was already gone, her mind somewhere else as he screamed at her. You couldn’t stop the torrent of tears from rushing down your face as you witnessed her shutting herself off. Years of toture had made her good at dissociating.

The first hit is what broke you. Without thinking you ran right in between the two of them, wrapping your arms around her as the two of you fell to the ground, cries of pain bursting from your mouth at each hit you endured. He was ruthless, his anger quickly being directed at you. Each punch and kick to your body bringing new blossoms of pain. You stayed firm, your body wrapping around hers to stop the torrent of attacks from reaching her. You could do it for her. 

You felt fingers weave into your hair, pulling you sharply to the ground and causing you to cry out. You struggled as he began to drag you away from Jungkook’s mother by your wet tresses, he was heading to the deck. You had no doubt in your mind he was going to take you outside, torture you, murder you, and dipose of you. 

“Jungkook!” You screamed, thrashing around desperately. “Jungkook! Help!”

You never called out to him for help, never. And that was why he came so quickly. The minute he entered the kitchen his demeanor completely flipped. His eyes settled on his mother, her body laid limp to the floor as she gazed off into nothing. And then he found you, your body being dragged and his father's hand knotted in your hair with marks littering your face. He suddenly reminded you of the Jungkook that took you the first night. His eyes were pitch black and the anger was bubbling just under the surface. 

Your head fell as his father released your hair and you quickly began to scoot back and away from him. You settled yourself in the corner, lifted Jungkook’s mother into your embrace and held her tight. 

As soon as the two of you were safe, he snapped. He grabbed his father by the neck and threw him to the ground, the two of them devolving into a writhing mass of punches and kicks. You could see instantly that Jungkook was going to win, there were no doubts in your mind about that. He had his father pinned quickly and was beating the ever loving shit out of him.

“How fucking dare you!” He was yelling, his face red as he repeatedly laid into him, each hit becoming more brutal than the one before. “How dare you hit my wife! My mother! Fuck you!” He screamed, letting out every ounce of rage he had been holding in. 

You could hear the kettle begin to whistle in the background, the pitch slowly rising as your pulse thrummed strongly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight before you, you didn’t know if Jungkook was going to be able to calm down. He was enraged. 

His father was laying still underneath him, his face bloodied and the only sign of him being alive the rise and fall of his chest. Jungkook finally stopped, sniffing as he rolled off of his father, his knuckles split and covered in blood. But he had stopped far too soon. His father suddenly lurched, dragging him to the ground and wrapping his hands tightly around his son’s throat. 

You watched in shock, Jungkook’s body squirming as he tried to escape, his eyes darting around to try and find you. And, for some reason you don’t exactly know, you reached onto the counter, wrapped your fingers around a knife and slid it across the floor into his waiting hand.  

You snapped your eyes shut as you began to hear the loud grunts of pain from his father each time the knife struck his body. You held Jungkook’s mother close, your hands covering her eyes so there would be no chance of her seeing. The kettle was whistling painfully loud, your heart beating violently as you listened to what was happening. 

And soon, silence fell over the room. You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook pushed the lifeless corpse of his father to the floor. He rolled over and looked at you, his face, neck, and hands coated in thick, wet, blood. He was shaking as he came down from his adrenaline high. He dropped the knife from his grip, tears suddenly pouring from his doe eyes as he crawled across the floor to you and his mother. 

Loud, pained sobs wracked his chest as he threw himself at you, crying into your neck as he held you tightly.The scent of blood was thick in the air, the sticky, crimson fluid staining your skin as he gripped you tightly to him. He was inconsolable, sobbing like a child as he refused to let you move. 

There was a corpse in the room, copious amounts of blood, Jungkook, you, and his mother. 

You raised your hand and gently began to stroke his hair, curling your arms around his shaking, blood soaked body. You lightly pressed a kiss to the top of his head in an attempt to soothe him, rocking him back and forth. 

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s okay.”

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song." 

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention. 

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard." 

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night." 

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked. 

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking." 

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band." 

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right." 

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid. 

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!" 

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!" 

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation. 

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover. 

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?" 

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me." 

"What does it look like?" You asked. 

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one." 

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told." 

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it." 

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned? 

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back. 

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine 

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner. 

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table. 

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this." 

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care." 

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-" 

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor. 

"It was a gift." He finished anyway. 

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head. 

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much." 

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered. 

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering." 

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me." 

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage. 

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help? 

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition. 

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly. 

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack. 

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975 

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile. 

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you. 

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?" 

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy." 

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music. 

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush. 

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone." 

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans." 

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?" 

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side. 

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Chapter 25: A Small Dose of Parker Love

Summary: After an intense fight and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else. Betas: @fanboyswhereare-you and @girl-tips-from-satan Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Then Again, Chapter 25: A Small Dose of Parker Love

(Word count: 4,012) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, 

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” The thought of Peter making more of an effort, of him consciously choosing to pay me closer attention with the active intention of improving our friendship— it isn’t the worst idea. If anything, it’s a rather attractive solution to a nonexistent problem. The suggestion alone is already prompting imaginary scenarios I refuse to acknowledge right now; though, inevitably, they’ll become daydream fuel within a couple days. Still, the whole plan is unnecessary, and I know it. I’m not angry with him anymore. I may have a few questions (some I plan on asking, some I’ll keep to myself), but if I do have any hidden resentment for his behavior stowed away in my subconscious, it’s as small and inconsequential as a handful of sand in the sea. Allowing him to carry this plan out would be using him. The pretenses would be false. Even apart from that, though, his texts gave off an odd, metallic aftertaste. The proposal reads mechanically— it’s a scientific study with a simple hypothesis (and a reluctant dependent variable). It’s the idea of being a lab mouse, I think, that earns it the title the dumbest thing in my mind. It’s condescending. Even if tempting. Then again, I know Peter. I understand he doesn’t actually view me as a test subject to analyze and discard after the results come in. We’re friends. He feels bad and tossed out a poorly worded solution because he thinks I’m secretly pissed at him. It’s only an idea he offered, one I have full power to reject. Maybe I’m trying to dismiss it quickly because, if I’m being honest, I’m selfish. Incredibly selfish. I want to say yes despite knowing the sort of negative message it would send to Peter. A small part of me is willing to let him feel worse so I can pretend his own guilty feelings are more significant than they really are. The possibility, the mirage just within reach, of balancing that tightrope between reality and fantasy with him is... alluring, to say the least. And impossible. It would be wrong. Wouldn’t it? Of course it would.

Like blades slicing fruit in a blender, my brain whips through these thoughts within seconds. Across on her bed, Michelle’s expression can only be described as disapproving or faintly disgusted as she too digests Peter’s idea. It’s the male stupidity is endless look we share when near particularly annoying men in public. It’s not often one we have to exchange in reference to the boys; their moronic moments tend to be entertaining rather than obnoxious, ignorant, or misogynistic. She meets my eyes, and I wonder if my face gives anything away. “That feels weird to me.” The sentence is a verbal tiptoe forward, an almost-question probe. “It did sound weird saying it out loud,” I agree. “You know,” she says, her tone mildly serious as she sits up straighter. “You’re not obligated to say yes to everything because you don’t want to disappoint someone. Especially a boy. And especially if he’s trying to fix his dumb mistakes by pressuring you into something you’re not comfortable with.” She pauses, glancing at the ceiling and raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can make him come to his senses.” Michelle tightens her fists and mimes three exaggerated punches. I imagine it, amused: Before the bite, Peter wouldn’t have stood a chance against her if she really meant it; now, he’d probably put his arms up to block her blows, barely annoyed, and wait for her to tire herself out. I roll my eyes and can’t help mirroring her smile. Nevertheless, her wording is…. The same question pops up for the millionth time. Do I want her to know? Should I tell her? “It’s Peter, it’s not, like, ‘a boy,’” I say first, air quoting the last words. No, not yet. Maybe later. For now, I’ll avoid it. “And I’ll pass, but I appreciate the offer. I’m not uncomfortable and he isn’t being pushy or anything. I only meant that the…” nearly impersonal approach to our personal relationship? “the hyper-conscious wording is weird. I wouldn’t turn down free snacks if the offer wasn’t described as a….” situation in which he views us as mere associates or abstract friends— Again, I remind myself he probably doesn’t see it that way. “Monitored social experiment with unequal power dynamics?” she offers. That fits. “Precisely.” She snorts. Shaking her head, Michelle pauses for a few more seconds. Mentally chewing it all over again, her expression bounces from annoyance to curiosity to neutrality to annoyance again to what looks surprisingly close to compromise or understanding. In the meantime, I focus on watching her facial journey and not thinking. In the tune of surrender, she sighs before she speaks. “I’m sure he’s trying his best,” she says reluctantly, her hands opening outward like a shrug, “his best is just bad. If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to refuse and block them. But, as much as it pains me to admit, I think we both know him too well to think his motives are as stupid as his phrasing. If anything, he’s probably excited about his ‘new genius friendship plan.’” Nodding, relief hums under my skin: she’s right. I mean, how many people would fight crime to protect strangers in their city, then turn around and have cold, detached views of their chosen, personal friends? “That’s true,” I say. “I should probably text him back, then.” She holds up a finger as I reach for my phone. “Still,” she adds with a tone of subtle authority, “it’s up to you. I’m not saying you should say yes — no obligations, remember? — I just don’t think you need to worry that he isn’t trying or isn’t being genuine. That’s all.” “Yeah, I know.” Michelle’s stare lasts a moment longer, her sincerity as visible and certain as the brown of her eyes. After a second or two, she sits back onto her pillows and relaxes, turning to face the t.v. once again, leaving me to work out my final decision on my own. As I allow myself to reiterate my own arguments in my head, the Cullen family discusses the mythology of half human, half vampire fetuses with Jacob. It doesn’t take me long to reach a conclusion. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty tired, but the answer seems obvious,

straightforward and simple in logic. I unlock my phone with the feeling Michelle knows exactly what I’m about to type. I begin to write the message I had settled on before: “I’ll think about it.” Simple and honest. And temporary. But then something else pops into my brain, and, foolishly, I write that instead. “What about you? Do you need new reasons to be around me?” I send the text without a moment’s reflection. Rereading it, it sounds a little… coded, to say the least. Like a Freudian slip. Don’t overthink it. God, I hate Freud. But it does sound desperate. And awkward. Damn. It definitely does. It reminds me of the embarrassing things I used to post on social media in middle school, which I really shouldn’t think about either. I only wondered if the idea should go both ways. Instead, the message sounds insecure... which I am, I suppose, but he doesn’t need to know that. Bubbles appear on his side. I resist the urge to send a series of backpedaling messages. They disappear. Again. My self control dissipates and I quickly send the original one: I’ll think about it. Unthinking, I pull the small keychain out of my pocket as I wait for his reply and massage the edge. Sticking the pointed corner into my thumbpad, I accidentally dig it in harder than intended. And I realize something. The keychain was the first. The gifts or incentives or things. A flat click of a nearby door closing snaps my attention. The boys’ room? Glancing up, I see a flash of Edward pleading with Jacob on the t.v. screen, and to my left, a shadow stepping up to the door. A gap in the golden line of outside light. For half a minute, nothing happens. Aside from Rosalie shouldering past Jacob as he walks in to speak to Bella. After that, when it does come, the sound is soft. Knock. Knock knock knock knock, knock knock. It’s Peter. Ned’s knocking pattern is shorter. The sound is like a phantom defibrillator to the heart. Michelle’s head rolls to one side to stare at the hallway, her shoulders slumped in an I’m giving up posture. “That’s very obviously for you,” she says, pushing herself up and tossing the Twizzler bag on the nightstand, “so I’ll let you go deal with it. I think I’ll brush my teeth and get ready for bed.” She hops off the mattress, raises her arms, and stretches them from side to side. “You okay if we call it a night?” “More than okay,” I say, standing up as well, the carpet cool under my toes. Once I speak to Peter, I’ll need to knock out. Otherwise my brain will spiral. And maybe, if all goes well, my dreams tonight will be better than staying up to snicker at this hilariously shitty movie. “But what if it is for you?” She rolls her eyes. “Tell them I’m gone. Missing, dead, whatever.” Michelle clamps her eyes shut and sticks her tongue out to mimic cartoonish death. Then she pops back to life with a fake warning glare. “So long as no one bothers me.” She hits the off button on the remote, Jacob and Bella dissolving into nothing, and as she trudges to the bathroom, I slip the keychain and a keycard back into my pocket before copying her arm stretch to calm my buzzing nerves. Michelle salutes me before turning and closing the bathroom door. I walk to the hallway’s. The handle is cold to the touch. I swing it open. As expected: Peter. The empty space surrounding him is relatively quiet, only muffled laughter and television sounds coming from rooms at the opposite end. The air smells like linens, cleaning supplies, and artificial lavender. This too is as expected: the typical, sanitary comfort of staying in a nice hotel at night. I tell myself it’s a calming environment. Peter’s in his usual pajamas, an old beat up t-shirt and sweatpants, standing slightly to the left, hands clasped in front of him. His height drops a tiny bit at the sound of the door, like he was rocking from heel to toe a second ago, and as his eyes lift from the floor to meet mine, he smiles. A warm swooping sensation envelops my stomach. “Hey! You answered.” He almost sounds surprised. I make a face in response. “You thought I wouldn’t?” I mean

this as a joke, a reference to the couple late nights he’s shown up at my door (window, really) to clean or patch himself up before going home. As he knows, I’m not in the habit of shutting him out. Still, his head tilts and his eyebrows go up into an expression of, Well, you weren’t exactly answering me before. It isn’t a challenging or upset look. If anything, it’s almost flustered. “Fair enough,” I concede, lukewarm guilt sticking in my throat. “I was thinking about it though, I promise, I just hadn’t decided for sure yet.” He nods, fidgeting with his fingernails and glancing at the floor. “Yeah, I get that,” he says, looking back up. His ears redden. “I, uh, phrased it pretty moronically. Or at least that’s what Ned said.” He takes a step or two back, closer to his door. It seems like an invitation to make the conversation more private, so I close mine and Michelle’s and step forward. “All I meant,” he continues, his hands rolling over one another in gesture, “was that I thought it might be helpful if I did a few nice things for you when we get back. Not like I’m actually trying to condition you, like a, like a—” “Dog?” His hands halt and his face pinches into an expression that practically reads I am painfully aware of every mistake I have ever made and how the number continues to grow in marker across his forehead. His eyes retain a lightness though, the sort that suggests he’s able to laugh about it. He runs his right hand through his hair. Mine twinges. “Exactly. I feel like that makes it seem kind of, um—” “Bad?” “Very bad,” he confirms, nodding. He takes a deeper breath, half-smiling in an embarrassed, self pitying way. “I honestly forgot about that Pavlock stuff, I was just trying to use psych terms to make it sound more persuasive and, um, I don’t know, impressive?” He shrugs and offers an I know I’m an idiot, but thank you for being patient smile. I bite my tongue against correcting Pavlov, which he seems incapable of pronouncing properly. Even when we studied for that exam, he only said it properly a handful of times, despite Michelle flicking bits of paper at him each time he said Pavlock. I smile too, noting the irony. And I think of what she said: he’s trying his best, his best is just bad. It doesn’t seem so bad when he’s standing in front of me, though. If anything, it’s easy. “You mean,” I begin to ask, more to tease than to clarify, “as opposed to the highly offensive and much more disagreeable, ‘Hey, I want to make up for being a jerk, so I’m going to stash some snacks for you in my locker’?” He bites his lip as if it’ll keep his grin pinned down, but it doesn’t. A blush spreads across his cheekbones and for a split second, he looks away to the other end of the hall. When he looks back, his smile falters, just a little. The vulnerability reminds me of his apology last night, when he thought I was sleeping. “I was thinking maybe it’d be more than snacks?” he offers. “Like, I don’t know, I don’t really have it figured out yet, but hanging out a bit more? Movie nights and that sort of thing? Or if you have a lot of homework, we could study together and help each other stay focused?” That last suggestion seems like an oxymoron. Study together to keep ourselves on track? It’s a laughable concept. Well, only if it’s— “Just us?” Peter freezes, his shoulders straightening slightly, his height rising a few millimeters. That is the central question, though. Whether it’s a positive or negative point toward my decision, I can’t tell. All the same, it’s been ages since we last tried studying together, just the two of us. It works best with Michelle and Ned there as well, seeing as we tend to get distracted. His eyes move quickly between mine as if he’s trying to read my thoughts before answering. He squints. “Is that okay?” he asks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I understand if not, if it’s uncomfortable or—” I shake my head, putting my hand on his arm to stop him, only realizing it when his eyes flicker to that hand. “Of course not,” I say, removing it. “I mean, of

course it’s okay. We’ve hung out without Ned and MJ tons of times before. It’s been a while but it’s no big deal. That’d be fine.” “Okay, good!” he says, the tension in his body evaporating. “That’s great!” His eyes have lit up. I imagine he’s relieved those two won’t be around the whole time to make fun of his movie choices or whatever he has planned. I try to hold a smile to reassure him and clear his doubts while internally pinching myself to remember to not think too much on this. There’s no need to dust off those old, useless daydreams of movie nights and falling asleep on his shoulder with his head atop mine and May lightly laying a blanket across us and all the rest. Absolutely no need. Shut it down. He runs a hand through his hair, nodding in a way that’s usually accompanied by him saying cool, cool, cool, cool. “Would Fridays be good for movie nights?” I barely register the question before I answer it. “Probably, sure. That should be alright.” His smile widens and he shakes his head once and continues nodding. “Perfect! We can have it at my place.” I nod back, chest tightening as I process. At the same time, I beg my brain not to process. Just for a minute. But then, since I refuse to let them move forward, the gears in my head turn backward, thoughts reeling like a bicycle chain. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, we’re realizing the same thing. “Wait,” he says carefully. “So you’re saying yes? Like, you’re cool with it? You wanna give it a try?” God help me. “I suppose so,” I say. At hearing my own answer, a different type of swooping feeling runs from my feet up. The looking over a high balcony type. “And we’ll figure the rest out later?” he asks. “Peter, really, if you’re still planning on the locker snacks, that’s more than enough.” He laughs. “Yeah, that’s what you think because you’re being lame. And self-limiting. And—” “Leaving?” It’s time, definitely. I’d forgotten how blinding Peter’s excitement and positivity can be without interference. Today has been full enough, I should end this now. “That’s fair,” he says. “I think Ned rubbed off on me. All that obnoxious energy.” He shakes his whole body as if ridding himself of said energy and I restrain myself from making a joke about his word choice. Instead, I nod and with an exasperated “Night, Peter,” and step back toward my room. He does the same, heading toward his. Just as he lifts up his keycard, he pivots back. “Wait! I almost forgot.” I turn around and he’s closer than before. Peter suddenly looks particularly nervous, his head angled to the side like a question, his hands fumbling over themselves. His cheeks are reddening again too, spreading from his cheeks to his hairline. “Yeah?” He steps forward to place himself directly in front of me. His eyes flit a quick path which his hands follow— they reach out to touch my elbows before jumping up to my shoulders, settling there almost steadily before shooting a little higher to suddenly but gently hold my head. And then he leans over and firmly kisses my forehead. As he pulls away, one hand disappears and the other musses up my hair. What is he—? We both take a tiny step back. My pulse pounds as my thoughts blur into nothing but impressions of nonsensical, ridiculous questions my brain won’t dignify with clarity. Peter’s expression is halfway between an apology and.. a dare? His eyes are as wide as I know mine must be, but there’s something playing at his lips. For a second, it feels as though we’re balanced on a challenge neither of us is willing to answer. The bubble of the moment pops as he shakes his head and gestures vaguely to his and Ned’s room, his floundering arm movements returning him to the strong appearance of embarrassment. “May,” he blurts, “Aunt May threatened to, uh, um, well, that part’s not really important, if I didn’t pass that along with ‘all her love.’” The red in his face deepens. “Apparently she’s not too happy I didn’t do that last night too.” Of course. It makes immediate sense. The memory rushes back. She told him to do that to all of us when

she dropped us off at the bus that morning. I’d laugh at my own stupid shock and poor memory but I can’t seem to manage it. “Do you want me to get MJ too?” I ask, realizing May likely demanded that he make the rounds. Maybe this is what started that play fight between him and Ned tonight. Either Ned dodged it or made a joke about wishing May were there to do it herself. It clicks together. “What?” He looks lost, his head tilted to the side, brow knotted up. “What do you mean?” “Unless— do you want me to pass it along from May?” The realization hits across his face. He shakes his head rapidly. “No, no, no, she’d probably kill me if I tried to do that to her. But, I mean, if you want to pass it along— or just tell her to lie if May asks. She probably won’t, honestly, but, you know, just in case.” His shrug and half smile are practically helpless. May ought to have more mercy on him. And me. “Alright.” A grin breaks over my face in a way I don’t quite understand and can’t stop. “I’ll see you in the morning then.” “Right. Goodnight, then. See you in the morning.” “Night, Peter.” Rather than stepping back, as intended though, I rush forward. Involuntarily, or at least I’ll pretend, since it’s just as surprising to me as it is to him, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. Or try to. It happens too quickly to register fully, but I’m almost positive I knick the corner of his mouth? That would definitely be unintentional. “ThatwasforMay,” I explain, stumbling backward. Seeming to sense it, Peter grabs my arm to steady me before I trip outright. He releases his grip and stares, stunned. If I thought his eyes were wide earlier, it turns out they can open much wider. His pupils are comically blown open. “What?” he asks, seeming concerned. “What was that? I, uh, I didn’t catch what you said.” “That was, um, that was for May. You know, in exchange.” That’s perfect. For the first time in a while, my brain saves me. Then a joke comes to me. “I’ve just been waiting so long to do that, I figured I should take the opportunity to practice. You know that song ‘Stacey’s Mom’? I’ve been writing my own verses for ‘Peter’s Aunt,’ but the lyrics aren’t as catchy.” His face, though still flushed red, relaxes. “Get outta here,” he laughs with a wave of his hand. “You’re as bad as Ned, I can’t believe you went there.” His facial muscles twitch as if he’s glitching between bewilderment, amusement, and a flint of mischief. “Oh, come on,” I say, “You know everyone in Queens has a crush on May, including us.” He shakes his head. “Nope. Minus five points!” “Then minus ten points for your lame attitude” I say— and before he can come up with a retort, “Goodnight!” He grins as near as he ever gets to a smirk (a term I associate too closely to ass-hattery to assign to him) and I turn to my room as he repeats it back. We both step to our doors and open them. I glance back just in time to see him practically jump into his room with a speed that reminds me he’s a superhero, even if he’s an idiot. Filled with tangled emotions, I pause, listening or waiting or catching my breath. I only need a moment. Behind his and Ned’s door, there’s a sudden crash, a sound like leaping bedsprings and something smashing, immediately followed by Peter groaning and Ned’s mocking laughter. Right before I go to my own room, I hear Peter’s exasperated voice: “Shit! Dude, can you help me fix it?” The room is dark when I slip back inside but the alarm clock shines enough red to see vague outlines of the walls and dressers and beds. Legs slightly numb, I stumble my way to the small bathroom to get ready for bed. It only takes a couple minutes, distracted as I am. I slip into the blankets of my bed. The warm body heat next to me can only mean one thing: Michelle. I move closer and wrap my arms around her. It’s just one of those unspoken things. Next chapter

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[aspiringauthorintraining]

Sands of Eon (1/2)

(A/N): Buckle your seatbelts, cause this is a long one! Read with sad music to really get in the mood. Cause I wrote this with sad music playing in the background lol.

“Do you have a wish, Xiao? I’ll write it on your lantern.”

“No need. I don’t have a lantern nor do I have the desire to make one.” He quickly shut down your offer, no sound of amusement or humor found in his tone. But unfortunately for him, you were used to his constant rejection and came prepared this time.

Grabbing another lantern from under the table, you pushed it towards him with a smile.

“Well, lucky for you, I already made you one.” you laughed, seeing his surprised reaction at the lantern in his hands. “No need to thank me.” you added.

“I don’t-”

You interrupted him before he could say no. “I already made it, and I don’t need two wishes. And like I said, I’ll even write it for you if you want.” Seeing his hesitation, you offered him a deal. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”

Xiao, knowing you weren’t going to give up until he relented, nodded reluctantly.

You clapped your hands happily at his defeat.

“My wish is to become someone who can protect the great and mighty Xiao!” you exclaimed, showing him your lantern.

    To become someone who can protect the great and mighty Xiao.

                                                                                 - (Y/N)

The adeptus gave you a puzzled look after confirming for himself that you had indeed written the same wish verbatim, onto your lantern.

“Well, you protect Liyue, right? But who protects you?” you asked the yaksha. And you predicted that he would say something along the lines of “not needing the protection of a mere human” or what not, so you chimed in again. “Of course, I’m not as powerful as you are. So my protection will mostly be in the form of Almond Tofus and my company. And I'll always be here for you, whenever you need me.”

“I have no need of you, nor your company.”

You tried not to smile at the fact he didn’t mention not needing Almond Tofus.

“I’m lonely. You’re lonely. So we can be lonely together, then.” Shrugging, you changed the subject before he could retort back. “So, what’s your wish then?”

At the conversation returning back to the topic of his wish, he let out another sigh.

“Hand me the brush, I’ll write it.”

As he silently wrote down his own wish on his lantern, you wondered whether he insisted on writing it himself because he was embarrassed to say his wish out loud. Or was it because he didn’t like your handwriting? You figured it would most likely be the latter. But upon noticing the slight blush dusted onto his cheeks, you couldn't help but second-guess yourself.

And after a short moment later, he handed the writing utensil and lantern back to you.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me to release the lanterns?” you asked him, hopeful that maybe this year would be the year to finally convince the recluse man of joining the festivities. “We can release it on the mountain, instead of in the city if you would feel more comfortable?”

“I would feel more comfortable staying here.” he replied firmly. His tone didn’t give away any leeway of changing his mind, so you decided that the lanterns would have to do this year. But hey, at least he participated.

After gathering your things, you made your way down the steps of the inn, and into the direction of the road leading back to the city. You waved a goodbye up to Xiao, who just watched your retreating figure. It was only when you stopped walking to frantically wave at him, that he gave a half-hearted wave back. He probably breathed a sigh of relief at your absence, once you left his view. But still, the half-hearted action brought a smile to your lips, and it remained with you the rest of the way home.

Once the Lantern Rite festival ended, the Xiao lanterns disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

You had been tempted to keep Xiao's lantern after the festival, knowing it was the first, but you hoped not the last, lantern Xiao had written a wish on. But the lanterns were meant to be released, not kept. And it wasn't hard to keep the wishes written on yours and Xiao's lanterns to your memory.

In the following days after the Lantern Rite festival, you spent your time contemplating how to go about making your lantern wish become a reality. But as you wracked your brain, continuously pondering over the problem, you were left with one resounding question.

What really could you do for Xiao?

You didn’t have much to offer the yaksha. You were neither rich nor someone with immense power that could rival his. Your company, which you weren’t even sure whether he enjoyed or not, was the only thing you had going for you. Well, that and making him Almond Tofus.

So then, nothing, it seemed.

You sure talked big for someone who had nothing to back it up with.

That was until one day, when you came across a certain object in a treasure chest in your adventures.

“It’d be best if you destroy that, and forget you ever saw it, (Y/N).” the archon responded to your question.

“Why? Isn’t it just another hourglass artifact?”

You figured asking Zhongli about the item would be your best bet. With how old he truly was, the Geo Archon had an immense knowledge of everything, and if anyone knew what the artifact was, it would have to be him.

“That’s one of the artifacts that was lost during the Archon War. It’s far more powerful than any used these days.” The funeral parlor owner took another sip of his tea, before continuing. “It’s infused with the raw power of a god, so it has special abilities.”

“Like?”

The man should've known that you weren’t going to follow his advice from the start. He let out a defeated sigh, before elaborating further. “There were rumors that the god who created that specific artifact had received the Sands of Eon from Time itself.”

“Time is a person- I mean a living being?!”

“Again, just rumors.” he noted. “And supposedly, by infusing the artifact with his own power, it could bend the laws of time.”

Your eyes grew wide at the new information. “So you’re saying this artifact could, in theory, turn back time.”

“In theory, yes.”

How could such a powerful artifact have washed up shore and land into your hands?

You decided to ask him one last question, already getting a slight headache at the information just revealed.

“What happened to the god?”

“It was said that the first and only time he used the piece was after watching his people massacred during the Archon War. He used it to save his people; warning them of the future events beforehand, buying them enough time to flee. Consequently, the price he paid for saving all his people was was at the cost of his own life.”

He left you with some parting final words as you left the funeral parlor, to sort out your thoughts.

“There's always a price for changing the past, (Y/N).”

Your first thought had been to give the artifact to Xiao, allowing him to go back in time to when he made a contract with the evil god, Kubira, who used him as a bloodhound. But remembering the fate of the original owner of the artifact prevented you from doing so.

It was then you were reminded of your lantern wish.

To become someone who can protect the great and mighty Xiao.

This was the answer to your wish.

You could use it yourself, and stop Xiao from forming the contract with whatever means necessary. You made a promise to protect him and by doing this you would be able to. There would be no pain or suffering for him to endure if you were successful. And once you realized that this was the the only way to truly protect your friend, you knew there was no turning back.

You gave yourself a month to prepare. Reading up on everything there was to the Archon War to prevent a change into the outcome, with your sudden appearance in the past. It was also meant a month of pestering Zhongli; asking about anything that wasn't recorded or lost in Liyue's history. You researched everything you could about the evil god, Kubira, as well, in order to prevent the infamous past contract that sealed Xiao's fate.

And it was, perhaps, the first time you were ever thankful to have grown up alone. No close ties with anyone, no family to miss once you left. Sure you had friends, but they could continue to live on without you.

The only one person you realized that you would truly miss and regret leaving behind, was the same person you were going back into the past for. You wondered if he would be okay once you left. You were the only one who pushed through his constant rejection and intimidating demeanor to truly get to know him and to be able to call him a friend.

But if you were successful in changing the past, would he even be able remember you?

The night before your departure, you visited Xiao at the Wangshu Inn, with a bowl of his favorite dish.

The adeptus who didn’t know a word about your plan, paused at the forlorn look you had as you watched him eat his food. It was already strange to him that you were just watching him, instead of asking him how his day was or telling him who you had met on your way over like always. And the forced way you nonchalantly brushed off your watering eyes as seasonal allergies confused him even more. Something was off about the way you were acting. And the question you proceeded to ask him was the icing on the cake.

“Hey, Xiao. If I went missing for some time, would you miss me?”

If you had asked this in the first year you met him, he would’ve probably responded with a relieved no. But currently, he remained silent at your question.

Had your efforts to befriend him pay off? Did you actually manage to squeeze into his heart, and make yourself a little home?

“…I would miss your Almond Tofus.” he replied after a long minute, paired with a straight face.

Well, it was better than a no.

During the early stages of your "friendship" with Xiao, the words, "get lost" were thrown in your direction every time you had come to visit. So to you, his current answer was certainly an improvement.

“Is it really that hard to say, “Yes, (Y/N). I would miss you so much. Don’t ever leave me” ?” you drawled, trying not to laugh when he briefly choked on his food at your choice of words.

Gulping down his water, he cleared his throat loudly. “Ehem. F-fine, I guess I would notice your absence.”

Sure, it wasn’t the confession you were hoping for, but you would take it.

You gave him a small smile, turning your attention to the view from the top floor balcony.

Taking in a deep breath, you gathered up the courage to speak your next words.

“Hey, Xiao.”

You looked at him with another smile, this one not quite reaching your eyes. You took a silent moment to memorize his face, down to every detail. When you reached his eyes, you tried to keep yourself from getting lost in the amber pools. But with one look at them, you failed miserably, falling straight into their depths. And with your undivided attention given to his eyes, you failed to notice the slight reddening of his cheeks.

“Thank you for protecting Liyue. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being my first love. And most of all, thank you for always being there for me.”

You stood up quietly, holding onto the same bittersweet smile on your face as you neared him. And before he was given the chance to register your words, you quickly left a soft kiss on his cheek; disappearing down the stairs without another glance back.

Regaining his conscious a moment later, he was about to chase after you, knowing you couldn’t have gone far. But a folded letter on the table in front of him distracted him momentarily, giving you enough time to escape.

Xiao,

I thought long and hard about what I could do for you after saying those big words about protecting you. And I think this is the best way to do that. 

I know you won’t remember any of this once I come back, if I come back. You probably won’t even remember me. But that’s okay. I’ll be fine, being the only one who remembers, if it means you’ll have a better future. So don’t let my efforts go to waste! Eat something other than Almond Tofu and snow. Make and surround yourself with friends. I hope I showed you that humans can be worthwhile friends too. And don’t ever think that you deserve solitude, because you deserve so much more than that. 

Thank you again for everything. I never felt alone when i was with you. I’m still not even sure if you consider us friends, but your friendship meant the world to me. So I’m going to have to insist that we are friends.

I don’t have any regrets leaving. I lived and I loved thanks to you. So now it’s your turn. 

I hope you can live your new life without any regrets or burdens weighing you down.

Love Always,

(Y/N).

Part 2 here!

(A/N): i made it into a two part, because it was taking too much scrolling to read everything lol. Also why is Xiao’s story so sad? I did some research before writing and like I’m crying dude.

Like, comment, subscribe, ring the bell for notifications for more videos. jk lol, this isn’t youtube. Just play some Genshin.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 14

The Darkling x Reader

You felt fine after dinner, the food quickly replenishing your dwindled physique, but you didn't go back to work. You took Aleksander's advice and took the rest of the day to rest and take your mind off the countless tasks you had. There was one thing you needed to do though and that was thank Zoya for today.

She didn't have to do any of it, in fact, you believed she hated you from the minute you interrupted Aleksander's meeting. You were told by a servant she was out training Inferni's and so you made your way down to the Etherialki training grounds. She stood there, the image of a goddess. Her dark hair fell down her blue kefta in defined curls, collecting small snowflakes.

There was no indication she'd been involved in a deadly attack a mere 4 hours ago. Saints, I think I have a crush on Zoya. Nevertheless, you walked over to her, calling out her name to grab her attention.

'Deputy, how are you feeling?' She looked worried yet relieved to see you standing in front of her on both of your legs.

'Y/N will do Zoya.'

'Alright then'

'Thank you for today. I don't know what came over me.'

'We all have our moments. Some of us just hide them better' You couldn't tell whether that was a dig at you or not.

'You're an amazing soldier Zoya. I'm very impressed'

'Well I didn't just sleep my way to the top if that's what you're implying.' She turned her addicting gaze away from you, studying the young Infernis.

'I beg your pardon?' You were taken aback.

'How's your leg?' She tried to change the topic but you weren't ready to.

'What do you mean Zoya, spit it out.'

'You know what I mean Y/N.' Why was she avoiding the conversation if she brought it up in the first place?

'Are you and Gener-' Is this another thing he had lied to me about? You vaguely remember thinking the two had been involved when you seen them in the same room but it passed quickly, surely he would have told you, especially if it was with one of his most trusted Grisha? The thought was another painful blow to your gut. They just kept on coming. You couldn't finish your sentence for she already answered it.

'No.'

'Zoya'

'Not anymore... Alina is here now' The strong feisty woman was gone now, in her place was a hurt and rejected woman. You were old enough to see it, you had been her before, hell you were her now. You looked at her striking beauty, thought about her incredible skills, and then stupidly compared yourself to her. If he rejected her, you're next. Your silence must have comforted her more than words could, for she shrugged her shoulders and said

'He keeps saying she's his equal, the day to his night' His equal. That's what Alina said.

'You don't need anyone Zoya. I can promise you you'll amount to great things on your own.' Despite the hurt you felt, you focused on her.

'Well as of right now I'm stuck to skiff trips and when you request me' You eyed her inquisitively 'Our dear General's doings.' she admitted.

'What gave you such an honor' you teased.

'I got into a riff with the precious Sun-Summoner after she vexed me.' She shut her eyes tightly as if trying to forget the memory.

'She doesn't strike me as the vexing type-' Your conversation was quickly interrupted when an Inferni accidentally set alight more than just the mannequin and Zoya scrambled to put it out, scolding the boy in the process.

'I'll leave you to it then'

You walked away, hurt and on the verge of tears. You needed to speak to Aleksander, you were sick of him lying to you but you were even more tired of feeling that severe urge to cry every time you thought about him. You came here to do your job and to show everyone you had your powers under control, yet all you've done so far is the opposite. Saints be damned you would walk away from your position because of a complicated relationship, you were better than that. But you also recognized that if you confronted Aleksander about all of this, he would either have to tell you about his plans for Alina or lie again, and you knew he would lie. It was a vicious cycle, one that wouldn't end. It was heartbreaking knowing that the man who claimed to never stop loving you could lie to you so easily.

You were right to question your trust in him, he never gave you a reason not to.

***

He was sitting at his desk, back turned towards you. You hesitated, the thought of running out the door and locking yourself in your room sounding pretty attractive. Maybe a good cry will fix this.

'Y/N I thought I told you to rest' He spoke calmly, his hand never dropping the pen. You shut the doors, not wanting the guards outside to hear what you were about to say. This made him turn around.

'We need to talk'

He dropped the pen and paper and stood up, indicating he was all ears. You glued your eyes to his knowing your vulnerability peeked through but you didn't care to hide it.

'What are your plans for me, Aleksander?'

He cocked his head to the side, confused. 'What?'

'Why keep me around when Alina is here?'

You were never the jealous kind, but you came to realize this wasn't jealousy. It was disappointment and aching after being away from him for almost a century. You had built up this life in your head, one where everything was perfect and Aleksander hadn't changed but you raised the bar too high. The bad parts of Aleksander faded away with each year and the best parts of him enhanced in your mind. You had forgotten what he was truly like, plus coming to terms with the fact that he lived a seemingly happy life while you were gone stung a bit too. With each day, the disappointment turned into hurt and anger.

'Y/N I already told you, I have a plan.'

'So you expect me to watch you and Alina fawn over each other while I stay in the shadows being a dutiful Second in Command? I may be loyal but I'm not going to blindly follow along Aleksander, not anymore.' It's making me miserable.

His hands reached out for you but you moved away. 'You know I love you Y/N' He said as if the foolish statement would make your worries and anger melt away.

'Then act like it'

'It's not that simple.'

'It never is, is it?' You bitterly laughed. What's the point of loving somebody if you're not willing to do everything to make them stop hurting?

'Why won't you tell me?' Your voice was a whisper he barely registered. 'Do you not trust me? Cause I'll admit it right now, I may love you, but I don't trust you Aleksander.'

Your admission hit him like a pile of bricks. He was brought back to when you first met, your shaking body radiating hostility as you rode in the carriage with him. He tried to assure you you were safe, you were one of his Grisha now, but you were having none of it. You didn't trust anybody for months after you arrived in the Little Palace, especially him and right now, it was all back to square one.

'Have I really given you that many reasons to not trust me?' It had been so long since he had somebody to care for and love that he forgot how to act around you. Perhaps he was back to square one too.

'Yes. Your sly comments about killing the King and finding the stag, your relationship with Alina, even with Zoya- Aleksander you're lying to me every day and you think I'll still be compliant. I'm not the same Y/N you remember.'

'You know what I want Y/N. You've always known'

'I do, but I need to know how you're going to do it all. How can I be supportive when I don't know what the hell is going on around me. A goodnight kiss every now and then won't fix this if you're doing the same to somebody else'

'Is this what this is? Your way of saying I'm fucking my Sun-Summoner on the side?'

'I never said that. All I wanted to know was why I'm not in on the plan that's supposed to give us more power. Is it because I'm a loose cannon, are you scared of what I'll do if I won't agree with you?'

You were sure of one thing; while you were gone nobody dared to disagree with the Darkling and he had grown to get used to it. Power corrupts, resistance humbles.

Somehow you still held your composure, albeit it was difficult. Aleksander however, was losing his temperate demeanor. He was pacing the lengths of the room and his hand had brushed through his hair countless times, the image of someone who was backed into a corner they couldn't get out of.

'I haven't told you because I don't want you to get burned. If it goes wrong it would be good to have some of us not hanged for treason would it not?' Bullshit. He must've forgotten you had the power of a heartrenderer. Aleksander was lying right through his teeth.

'You and I both know that's not true. If history is any indication then they'll turn on all Grisha.'

'And you'll be here to make sure they don't.' He tried to reason but you let out a loud laugh.

'Up until 2 weeks ago you didn't even consider giving me my old post back, do you really expect me to believe you changed your strategy in a matter of days?'

He stayed silent and settled against his desk. His crossed arms showed he was in no mood to discuss any further but you weren't done. He was going to tell you everything whether he liked it or not. You were sick of being kept in the dark. You had your title of Deputy back now, yet you still had no idea what truly went on and had no real sway against the top-ranking Grisha who no doubt were in on the plans. Power corrupts, resistance humbles, and you were done being humbled.

'Aleksander don't make me force it out of you' As soon as the words left your mouth you tried to find some part of you that regretted them but came up empty-handed.

His head whipped around with whiplash speed. You could see the internal battle going on behind his eyes of whether you would actually make do on your threat. You didn't know whether it was empty or whether you actually would do it but it was tempting.

'You said you changed, but I don't think you did' He retorted, eyeing you up and down with a look of displeasure. The situation was a shift from the usual, this time he was the one losing control and spiraling whereas you were the perfect example of a calm before the storm. The Little Witch he had grown to love and worship.

'I'm stronger, I can be stronger. I am limitless' You prided yourself on the restraint you'd shown thus far. You were in a palace full of Grisha, of Healers, a Tailor, a Sun-Summoner yet you didn't make any moves to take anything. The old Y/N wouldn't hesitate to take what wasn't hers. Maybe that's why you would burn out, lose as you gained. This time you knew how to do it properly, how to be an Elemental who yielded it all.

'Your quench for power is contending mine, Sweet Y/N.' For the second time in your life, you saw fear in Aleksander's eyes. He always had a feeling you yearned to have a stronger grasp of the Second-Army and for so long, even now, you tried to lie to yourself and deny it. But deep down some voices always whispered 'it's only right to have a leader who represents them all'.

'Wrong. I already have it, I just need to use it.' You raised your hands slowly, showing him you meant what you said. I'm really doing this. Your heart dropped when his raised too. He's willing to hurt me to protect his lies.

'There's no going back from this' You felt weirdly ready. Although you had never used your Grisha powers against Aleksander in a fight, you had a hefty slice of hope in you that you could overpower him. You had what he had and more.

'Y/N stop this.'

'Why? So that you'll lie to me again? Make me the other woman? It's inevitable that it comes to this' Your heart picked up in speed as your breathing became rapid. The influx of power at your fingertips itched to get out and make itself useful and containing it was painful.

Shadows pooled on the ground and around your feet yet you didn't know who they belonged to. Technically they're all his, I just know how to control them.

Panic shot through you as you felt a tendril of the black nothingness grasp around your wrist. No. You let yourself go, snapping the shackle and mirroring it on him. He had never experienced cruelty at the hands of his own power until now and was completely powerless as the black restraints rendered him useless. You concentrated on his pulse, soothing it to its normal rate then into a slow hum, relaxing his mind. This all felt so wrong yet so right.

'I'm feeling merciful today. When you feel up to it, tell me everything, or else I promise I won't hesitate Aleksander. We're the same in that manner.'

You watched as he gathered himself, anger rising onto his face. His moves were rigid and stiff despite your previous soothing.

'Time is ticking' Before he could say another word, you left the defeated Darkling, instilled with a sudden sense of pride.

______

Part 15

Here's my masterlist where you can find previous parts of this series!

Taglist (Tell me if u want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

[spacedikut]

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 1

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: spencer makes a confession as you’re doing dishes together. this is from a prompt list but i can’t find it :( 1633 words. part 2 

a/n: this was originally a poe dameron thing but i started thinking about it with spencer and then there were tears streaming down my face then i wrote it

Your favourite memories with the team are always those where you really feel like a family. Most days these are only fleeting moments, less than five minute conversations filled with banter and affectionate insults, but there are times, like now, where you’re all sat around Rossi’s dinner table with too much wine and too much pasta (although there is no such thing), and you feel like you might cry from happiness.

You’re a family.

The downside to being a family is you get treated like a family member, meaning when you and Spencer are assigned to clean dishes, dry them and put them away, you sulk to the kitchen just like you did when you were eleven and your younger sibling got out of helping by claiming he has too tired.

At least you can stare at Spencer as you do it.

In the kitchen, you’re working in perfect harmony – you, elbow deep in somehow tolerable hot water, scrubbing away at the bowls and plates stained with pasta sauce, and Spencer who methodically dries said bowls and plates with a worrying amount of scrutiny.

Right before you open your mouth to ask him if he’s okay, Spencer speaks.

“What do you think of love?”

Huh. Didn’t expect that.

“Love is… is good, I guess.”

You’re not sure what to say, or what he wants you to say. There’s obviously an answer he’s looking for, but you’re not sure you can provide it.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Your brows furrow. The question catches you off guard and your hand freezes mid-wipe. Why is he asking you this? It’s not that you’re not close with Spencer, cause you are, but you feel ill-equipped for this conversation. You wish you could somehow swap positions with Hotch, or Rossi, maybe Derek. Or Emily! Anyone, except you.

“I don’t think so, no, Spence.”

He grimaces.

“Why?”

“Well, because-cause…” He pauses and grits his teeth, as if the words are painful to force out, “I want to love someone and be loved.”

The confusion shines brightly in your eyes, “You are loved, Spence. Everyone in our unit would do anything for you, you know that. I’d go so far as to say you’re the favourite, probably the most loved person in the BAU.”

“No. No.” He shakes his head, “I want someone to love me. Romantically. Not Dr Spencer Reid of the BAU, notorious rambler and know-it-all who’s exceptionally good at pissing people off. I want them to love me – Spencer – the guy who is a technophobe, a pretty bad shot, and secretly wants to be a cowboy. The guy who has a recurring dream that Morgan forces me into a room where I’m plunged into darkness and Doctor Who is playing but it’s in a language I don’t understand. I don’t.. I don’t want someone that’ll make me feel like a baby, like the team sometimes does, you know? I think I’d be a great partner and I just… I just want someone to share something with. Something good, something pure, in this job where we face evil and demise every day.”

You’re in stunned silence when he makes eye contact, hands stilled mid-air as you gape at him.

“Sorry. Totally unloaded a lot of emotional stuff on you there – my bad. Uhh..” He clears his throat.

The air becomes awkward as you figure out how to reply. You flounder. You don’t know what to follow that speech with. It almost feels like the right time to admit your feelings for him, but a second later you realise this conversation sounds a lot like one you’d have with someone you definitely do not have feelings for. You’re just a consultation, you’re not the end goal. Suddenly, you wish you had been assigned to clearing the table rather than washing up.

Swallowing what feels like pure acid, you begin, “That’s sweet, Spence. Genuinely. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting that.” You want to reach out and touch him, but your hands are now submerged in water, and touching him might break you. “So what’s stopping you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s stopping you from getting that?” You ask. “I’ve seen you. When you put your mind to it, you can be preeeetty smooth with the ladies. Remember the magic trick you did for that one girl?” Spencer gives a small, shy smile, “Exactly! So what’s stopping you?”

Spencer looks like a deer in headlights. What is stopping him? He’s proud to say his confidence has exponentially grown since joining the BAU. When he started, his self-esteem was non-existent, but times passed and he’s grown to accept himself the way he is. It helps that you’ve been there, cheering him on and showering him in compliments whenever he starts to doubt himself. Initially, Spencer thought you were doing it just to get on his good side, maybe build some good karma, but somewhere along the line he started to somewhat agree with you. The compliments never ceased.

“Well,” He starts, “I’m picky.”

You scoff, “Yeah, if I was you, I’d be picky.”

You turn and squirt some dish soap into the sink, smiling when Spencer laughs, “What does that mean?!”

“You know what it means! I always say you could be a ladies man if you truly put your mind to it, and I stand by that. You’re a ten out of ten on a bad day so, yeah, you should be picky. I’m tempted to say no one is worthy, but I’ve already inflated your ego too much.”

He grins at your teasing and licks his lips, “There is one person.”

“Oh?” You ask, interest piqued. You ignore the pang in your heart.

“Yeah. She’s really cool. It’s kind of terrifying.”

You giggle at that. There’s a warmth to Spencer’s words, and you realise whoever this girl is is super fucking lucky. He’s completely and utterly smitten and she doesn’t even know it. You kind of hate her.

“So are you gonna tell her?” You ask.

He shrugs, “I guess so. Should I?”

Finally done with the washing up, you move to put the dried plates into their cupboards. With a quizzical look, you say, “You’re really asking me that? Yes, you should tell her.”

“Would you tell her?”

“God, no.”

“What?!”

“I’m shy when it comes to that stuff! I’d rather ferment my feelings and then tell myself to get over it and never think of it again.”

“Sounds healthy.”

You grin, turning to lean against the counter next to Spencer, “I would tell her if I was you, though. You’re sweet, attractive, and you have more than just your looks going for you. If I was you and got rejected I’d be like… okay, cool. I’ll just go bang every one of your friends, then.”

Spencer guffaws, “You’d what?!”

“I’m kidding!” You laugh, a hearty laugh at his expression. The pure shock and borderline disgust makes you oddly proud. It’s a rare reaction from Spencer.

He rolls his eyes but still smiles. His eyes lock on your face and you can’t pinpoint what emotion is pouring out of them, but it’s so strong that it shoots panic through you. You quickly turn and pick up as many glasses as you can, manoeuvring to the opposite side of the kitchen.

You can’t be thinking about him like that if he’s about to admit his feelings for someone else.

“So, you gonna tell her?” You try to sound nonchalant, but you can’t deny you’re unbelievably curious.

Spencer hums, but still sounds unsure, “I think I will.”  

“If she’s as great as you think she is, no matter her response she’ll handle it well. Otherwise, she wasn’t worth your time anyway.”

Behind your back, Spencer barely contains a gentle smile and thinks, yeah, you are pretty great.

“What did you say?” You swing around to face him.

Spencer straightens up and furiously dries the last bowl, “What?”

“You mumbled something.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

You’re visibly bemused but don’t say anything. Spencer opens his mouth to speak, maybe tell you what he should’ve a while ago, when Emily comes sliding in.

“Garcia has had too much wine and I’m one glass away from joining her. Y/N, are you ready to head home?”

You roll your eyes and nod. In hindsight, you’re glad that you refused the big glass of wine Rossi initially offered you because you knew this would happen and you’d be taking drunk girls home. “Yeah, all good. Spence, is it okay if I leave you to put the last few dishes away?”

Spencer nods eagerly and glances at Emily when she sways, “No problem. Drive safe.”

You mumble a thanks and move to the living room to collect your bag. Garcia is splayed across the biggest couch and you can’t help but aww at her sleeping form. Just an hour ago she was giving a sermon on why Hotch is the best dad and how that translates to the bedroom (why did no one stop her), and now she looks at peace with the world in the fluffiest pillows you’ve ever seen. Then she chokes, snorts, and springs upright with a loud “Derek!” and you jump back at her volume. When she sees you, she looks like she’s found the cutest kitten and makes grabby hands, asking for a hug.

Yeah, it’s time to go home.

Just before you leave Rossi’s house, you turn to Spencer and shout across, “Good luck, Spence!”

Morgan turns to Spencer and silently asks what? And Spencer barely acknowledges him, “I’ve got big plans for tomorrow.”

“Big plans, huh?” Morgan teases.

“Yeah. Big plans, big payoff, and all that.”

Looking over your shoulder, you give one final wave after tying Garcia to her seat.

Spencer wonders if you realise you’re his big plan.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You II (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: secret admirer Yamato fic. said that this one would be short, but i once again have gotten carried away. Here is the ending. It should be cute. thanks for reading. 

Word count: 3200

It had been a long day at the bakery, full of kneading breads and selling cupcakes and just generally doing some busy work around the store. Life was uneventful, except for the moments she arrived at her apartment in the evenings just as the sun was setting, and she’d find a new gift lying on the ground or a note taped to her door.

 It was nice, having these little surprises either at the beginning or ending of her day. In fact, she was growing all too used to the confidence boost the sweet love letters gave her. 

Apparently, she was beautiful. She was strong and kind and generous and funny, and so many other things all stated and elaborated on in these notes. She was high off those letters. They made her feel just a bit better about herself. Even after long days of work where her hair was falling out its tie and her skin dusted with flour and chocolate frosting smeared across her dirty apron, she still felt on top of the world.

Every day she grew more and more curious as to who was leaving those notes lying around. It really could be anyone, even someone she barely knew. In that case, she had no idea what she would do. Yes, the person in question seemed nice, but she didn’t exactly feel comfortable dating someone she didn’t know or like. 

And if it was someone she knew, what would she do then? Could they stay friends after all this mess? She would try, but would it be too awkward for them to be around her after spilling their feelings over and over again?

Just thinking about the outcomes of this secret admirer situation was overwhelming and she avoided the thought. She would just enjoy the acts of admiration from the comfort of her own home.

It had actually been three days since the last gift was left outside her door and she was beginning to grow excited. If he was gone for another few days, surely she could go around and figure out who was on a mission for the entire week. The turning point was almost here, she thought. Only a few more days until she could find out. It was both scary and exhilarating to think about.

As she rounded the corner to her apartment, walking up the metal stairs, she expected nothing at her door once again. That only made sense. Definitely not a person standing there, no way.

She certainly did not expect to see Kakashi standing at her doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers. Just as quick as she had seen, she ducked back behind the wall, hand pressed to her mouth to shush her gasp.

What the fuck…

That was definitely him, she confirmed in her mind. The same white hair, mask, jounin vest, everything. Her heart raced and she felt panic creeping up her neck. How could this be? Kakashi was her friend, and only her friend. She thought that had been established a long time ago. There was nothing intimate going on between them, and she never anticipated there would be. 

She waited until he was gone before she walked to her apartment and picked up the flowers and note. She swore that this wasn’t Kakashi’s handwriting, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was and she was just remembering wrong. Why was she even questioning herself though? Right in front of her eyes, she saw Kakashi leaving flowers at her doorstep. The answer was clear as day.

Kakashi was her secret admirer.

The more she thought about it, it made a little sense. He always accepted her free baked goods, but she always just assumed he didn’t feel like buying his own bread. And he walked her home from the store on more than one occasion. He was nice to her every time they hung out. All of those things she always just assumed were normal friendly things to Kakashi, but she found herself questioning his every move now. 

Oh man. Oh shit. How would she even go about confronting him? He was such a cool and collected guy, she would feel awkward rejecting him. Would he be angry? Another thought crossed her mind for a moment. Maybe she shouldn’t reject him. He was a very smart and kind man, and he always knew what to say even in the worst of moments. He was reliable and strong and forgiving.

Maybe she should just go for it. 

Yeah, she cared for Yamato a lot, but why keep trying for someone completely unattainable when another guy she got along with was ready to give her the entire world? From the way he spoke in his letters, he liked her for a long time and intended to make her his long term girlfriend. It broke her heart that the man she spent years longing after didn’t feel the same way, so much time wasted. It really sucked.

She had been lonely for so long that the thought was more than tempting. 

It was all way too much to think about.

She entered her apartment that night with a lot to ponder before she fell asleep, tossing and turning with the knowledge that Kakashi was in love with her. How could she sleep knowing that? She would have to talk to someone else first before deciding what to do about everything. She would wait for Yamato to come back and help her out. He’d know what to do. 

_______

It had been days since she found out about Kakashi and this entire mess. Yamato was due to be back today, and she was counting the minutes. She already asked off work for the rest of the day so she could get all her business sorted out. There was just too much to do and she couldn’t wait until night time to get it all done. 

Awkwardly enough, on her way to see Yamato, she ran right into Kakashi outside the grocery store. He was carrying quite a big bag of food items, and she nearly knocked them all right out of his arms. She yelped, jumping back about two feet to keep her distance. Being so close to him felt nerve-wracking. 

“Y/N, what’s up?” he asked, his eyes scanning her up and down. “You look nervous."

“Me, nervous? Psssshh, of course not. Why would I be nervous?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

She stood there for a silent moment, her eyes drawn right on his face. He didn’t look different. He looked like his normal, cool self, definitely not like a man in love with her. He was damn good at hiding how he felt. She rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes averted now to the wall beside her. “So, uh, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing much, Just got back from a mission and I’m going to be home for a few days so decided to get some groceries.”

“Oh, really? How long were you on that mission?”

“It was only 2 days.”

“I see…”

Why was she asking? She saw him. There was no way he was on a mission that night. He was right there. Maybe all this questioning was a sign that she wished this was all some sort of mistake, that it wasn’t Kakashi at her doorstep, or maybe they were pranking her. A cruel and unlikely prank, but still, it was a possibility.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned and he leaned in just a bit closer to get a look at her face. The woman found herself getting flustered. Quickly, she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him away. 

“I’m fine. Just stay over there.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not fine but whatever you say.”

She bit her lip, not knowing how to diffuse the situation. He was right, as usual. Things were definitely not okay, she just wasn’t ready to face the reality that he loved her, not here in front of the grocery store in the broad daylight. That was meant to be private. She couldn’t reject him like that, it would be humiliating.

“It’s nothing, Kakashi. I’m just...getting sick is all, so you shouldn’t get so close.”

But he persisted. “Sick with what?”

“I don’t know, the flu?”

“Hmm,” he nodded, but his eyes were all knowing and she found herself wanting to slither away on the ground and hide in an alley for a while. “You’re on your way to see Tenzo, right?” How? How could he have known that? She swore, this man was getting on her last nerve with his smartass attitude.

“Yes. How could you tell?”

He smirked through his mask, shifting the weight of his grocery bag to his left side. “Well, he just got home today, and the only reason you’d be walking that fast is so you could see him,” he replied, and she nodded grumpily, her arms moving to cross over her chest.  “I’ll let you go. He should be leaving the Hokage Tower soon, I just saw him heading in that direction.”

She thanked him before continuing on her path to go find Yamato. She was actually glad to be done talking to Kakashi. It felt way too weird talking to him knowing all the things he was secretly thinking about her. Plus, he was getting annoying with all the questions. She just wanted to find her friend and talk through her options.

It saddened her, but Yamato was never going to like her back and maybe Kakashi was the best choice for her. In this town, if you got to 25 without getting married you were pretty weird, especially if you weren’t a shinobi. Villagers get married off so quickly, it’s just part of the small town nature of it all. Parents want grandchildren, and it’s easier to live off a two person income. People got married young. 

Societal pressure would definitely be taken off her back, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t exactly as she had planned. One sided love.

Yamato was indeed walking home from the Hokage Tower when she spotted him after having wallowed in her own thoughts for the entire walk over.

“Yamato!” she called, running up to him. He stopped in his tracks, feeling himself growing warm again. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her, granted that was only a week ago. He wanted to give her a hug, having missed her for the last 7 days and all, but he refrained. He had no idea how she would react. Knowing her kind nature, she would hug him back, but then what would she think? He liked her? It was too embarrassing.

He looked down at the young woman and smiled. “Y/N, did you need something?”

“Yes, it’s really important. Do you think we can sit down somewhere more private?”

Oh God. Whatever she wanted to talk about, it couldn’;t be anything good. She wasn’t smiling, and normally she would have work right now. She wasn’t going to take off work for nothing. He nodded, and she silently dragged him over to the tea shop, her eyes flickering around to make sure Kakashi hadn’t trailed behind her. She took a seat at one of the tables and motioned for him to sit across from her.

He did as she asked, sitting cross legged on the floor, his hands secretly being wrung over and over again under the table. “So what did you need to talk about?”

“I know who my secret admirer is.”

Here it goes…

“Kakashi!”

“Wait, what?” His eyes shot open, and he froze. He was not expecting that, not at all. How could he? Yamato was Y/N’s secret admirer, it didn’t make sense. He made sure Kakashi knew to leave the flowers on her doorstep in secret, there was no way he would mess up something so simple. He was an S-rank ninja for a reason. 

She nodded, her eyes almost as wide as his. “Yeah, I know. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him.”

“What did you see?”

“When I was coming home from work, I saw him outside my door with a bunch of roses and a note. It was in the same handwriting as all the other love notes, so I know it’s the same guy. I-I just can’t believe it’s Kakashi.”

Yamato knew he should have confessed right then instead of asking, but he couldn’t keep himself from knowing the truth. “Well, how do you feel about him? Are you going to accept?”

She sighed, her eyes trailing down to the side. “That’s the hard part. His words, in those letters, they made me feel so special and loved. If Kakashi feels that way about me, surely he can make me happy for a long time,” she told him softly, and he could feel his heart tearing in half with every second that passed. He put in all this effort, and for what? For his friend to steal the girl right from him. He felt a terrible pain in his stomach, and he had to keep the discomfort from reaching his face.

“So, you’re attracted to him?” His worst fear. He knew the ladies liked Kakashi. He was suave and handsome. It would make sense if Y/N liked him. Who didn’t like Kakashi? 

His own self-esteem was diminishing. Out of all the outcomes he had thought up in his head on how this confession would go, he never expected it to end up this way. 

She shook her head. Carefully, she explained, “It’s just that I’ve loved someone else for a long time, and I’m not ready to give up on them. I know I should, but I just can’t.”

It was time to tell her. His hopes were low, but her confession left him feeling like there was a chance. He wasn’t planning on telling her any time soon, not until he was positive she liked him back, or even wait for her to figure it out herself so she could come to him. He really wasn’t one for expressing his feelings like this. He was Anbu, that wasn’t their way of life. 

He was scared. Scared of the rejection and then what would follow. The fallout and the avoidance. The dissolving of their entire friendship. Yamato was afraid of what this one little woman thought of him, and it took everything in him to  muster up his next words.

“Y/N, your secret admirer is not Kakashi, it’s me. It's been me the whole time.”

Her lips quickly fell into a frown, and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. She tilted her head to the side and asked, her brows furrowed deeply, “How could that be? I saw Kakashi with my own eyes.”

“It’s because I asked him to fake it for me until I got back from my mission,” he groaned, “You said you were going to wait until the next time there was a big break in the gifts coming and then figure out what shinobi it was; well, I was just on a week long mission and I didn’t want you figuring it out so soon. I gave Kakashi some flowers and a note and asked him to leave it there sometime in the middle of my mission, to throw you off my scent.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I guess I should have anticipated Kakashi being late and you finding out, but I hadn’t.”

“Yamato-” Y/N felt relief bubble up in her chest. If Yamato was really her secret admirer, then she had nothing to worry about. It seemed things had worked out too perfectly in her favor. She loved him, wanted nothing more than for him to reciprocate her feelings. And he had. He had spent countless hours planning little surprises for her in the hopes that it would make her happy.

Her heart felt over the moon with happiness. No one had ever went out of their way for her, not like this. But Yamato was different.

“Y/N, I care about you. I care about you a lot, as you can tell from all the letters I wrote for you.” He paused, his eyes rolling to stare up at the ceiling, too nervous to meet her own which were filled with shock. “I know we live completely different lives, and I know you’d rather be with that other guy, but that night you got drunk and you told me you wanted a man to sweep you off your feet and that you were lonely, I thought I’d try.”

“I got drunk and told you I was desperate for a man? When...When did this happen?!” Admittedly, she felt a shot to the gut at that one. How embarrassing. Perhaps, that wasn’t the first thing she could have got from his confession, but she needed to know.

“I don’t know. A month ago?”

“Damn, I’m so embarrassed.”

He groaned once again, covering his eyes with his hand and mumbling, “Yeah, me too, Y/N.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” she asked, noticing his red face and neck. “Yamato, I want to be with you. You are the other guy.” 

“You really don’t have to lie to save my feelings.”

“I’m not lying. Admittedly, when the first gift you left was a bonsai, I immediately thought it could be you because 'tree', but I couldn’t be sure so I waited. I wanted it to be you the entire time, but I just couldn’t see someone as strong as you falling for a simple baker. I thought you’d be into other shinobi. I mean, they are more interesting than little old me.”

He reached over the table to grab her hands, and immediately he cringed. All this drama was making his hands sweat, and he didn’t want her to think of him as the sweaty hands guy. He scolded himself immediately after having the thought. She’s not gonna care, don’t be so nervous. Tell her how you feel. 

“Stop. Y/N, all I care about is you. You are the most beautiful, smart, kind, and interesting woman I’ve ever met. You’re amazing. You work so hard at the bakery. You aren’t simple at all.”

“Yama...”

“Please, just be with me. It took me a lot of courage to tell you how I feel, just say yes and accept that I love you for you.”

“O-okay. I’m so happy. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

A smile grew on his lips, and she let a goofy one take over her own expression. He never looked this happy, and she realized it was all because of her. Her heart  jumped in her chest, and she squeezed his hands, feeling herself growing warm with happiness. His sweet words filled her ears and she laughed. “I promise I will treat you like a princess. I will not let you down.”

“Okay. I promise to treat you like my knight in shining armor.” His heart fluttered again. She was the one for him. He was sure of it. His cold exterior had grown soft and warm because of her, and he loved it. He loved her.

“Deal.”

They ordered their tea and sat their just relishing in the fact that for once, everything worked out for the awkward, terribly lightweight baker and her anxious, ungracefully stupid shinobi that she was hoping for all along.

[robininthelabyrinth]

part 3 of Escape Your Destiny (Star Wars Wangxian AU) - on ao3 or tumblr part 1, part 2

-

He had been right to reject seclusion, Lan Wangji thought grimly. The sweet siren call of calm contemplation had nearly seduced him, the Dark Side seeking to eat away at him through other means now that anger and hatred had not done the work – he would have meditated himself into a stupor, becoming little more than a vacuum within the Force, a black hole of deathly intent.

More than that, though, he would have missed – this.

This disaster.

Wei Wuxian’s lips were pale from blood loss and hypothermia. Two of his limbs were at odd angles, probably broken, and Lan Wangji feared that there were more like them beneath the body that was bruised like a tender peach – he had been shielding as many people as he could, Lan Wangji knew, because he knew his Wei Ying too well to think that he might have done anything else.

Lan Wangji still didn’t know all the details, what exactly had been the disaster or why Wei Wuxian’s starfighter had crashed when he knew (with painful recollection) exactly how good a pilot Wei Wuxian was, but it hadn’t really mattered. Xue Yang had rushed into his chamber shouting excitedly - not exactly a rare event - saying something about an alarm and a disaster and a crash and can I have one of these gadgets? possibly two, maybe, I’m thinking two but haven’t really committed yet, it’s a big decision you know, and Lan Wangji’s blood had run cold when he realized what alarm he was referencing.

(A proper Jedi would never have tagged the object of his affections like an endangered bird or a criminal, injecting the tracking chip so deep into bone and muscle that standard scans wouldn’t pick it up and even in-depth scans might register it as a naturally occurring aberration. A proper Jedi would think of such intimate surveillance as cruelty, dehumanization, the caging of a free bird –

A proper Jedi wouldn’t have known what happened.

A proper Jedi wouldn’t have been able to rush over at once, wouldn’t have been in time to retrieve the body from the wreckage, finding it still warm and breathing but swiftly fading into the Force.

A proper Jedi would have been worthless.)

“That looks pretty bad, Master,” Xue Yang said, the comm crackling in his ear, and for once his tone was almost solemn. Perhaps the lessons on empathy were working, following the introduction of the rancor Xue Yang had named Chengmei with an expression so pained and vicious that Lan Wangji had refrained from asking. Perhaps it was that he’d grown so obsessed with his pair of bounty hunters and their foundling assistant, a little not-blind Bothan girl who liked to mouth off at him. Or perhaps it was just something as simple as knowing that if Wei Wuxian were lost, Lan Wangji would have no reason to –

No reason to anything at all.

“It is within the limits of what a bacta tank can heal,” Lan Wangji said, because it was, it would be, as long as he got him there in time. 

Time that was swiftly running out.

Later, when Wei Wuxian was safe, Lan Wangji would return to that obscure little space station that had nearly caused his beloved’s death and he would find out what had happened properly. He would find out, and he would slaughter every one of them that caused it, torment them for days if he needed to in order to know who to blame – it didn’t matter if their contribution were accidental or deliberate, major or slight. He would offer up a sacrifice of their suffering to the Dark Side, as solemn as lighting a stick of incense at a temple –

When Wei Wuxian was safe.

Because he would be. He had to be.

Lan Wangji’s Wei Ying would not die so easily.

“Uh, Master? We don’t have a bacta tank.” Xue Yang was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know that many people around here that do. This is Outer Rim, remember? Not even the Hutts have one.”

“There is one in an outpost in the Quiberon sector,” Lan Wangji said. His attention was split between piloting their stolen ship as fast as he could and monitoring Wei Wuxian’s vital signs. He had transferred a certain amount of energy into him already, but the Dark Side was poisonous in overly large quantities, especially if one was not accustomed to it; a pure Jedi like Wei Wuxian couldn’t tolerate it, and Lan Wangji would not risk making him worse. “Inat Prime system. I’ve entered the coordinates. Set us up for a jump to lightspeed.”

“Inat Prime,” Xue Yang repeated, instead of doing as he was told. “Isn’t that – near Rothana?”

Lan Wangji said nothing.

“Rothana’s a manufacturing planet. Heavy engineering – warships. It used to belong to a subsidy of the Jin Engineering Corps, maybe still does, I don’t know, but either way manufacturing planets like that are where those sleemos keep their precious IP. And that means it’s going to be guarded and booby-trapped up your chubba. Who in their right mind would set up an outpost anywhere near there?”

Xue Yang was descending into Huttese slang again, Lan Wangji noted to himself, keeping his calm only by sheer force of willpower even as the Dark Side screamed in his mind that now was the time for rage and pain and blood. Given his hatred of the entire species, Xue Yang only did that when he was especially anxious and didn’t want to admit it.

Later, when he didn’t have more pressing things on his mind, Lan Wangji would have to inquire of his apprentice – which he had previously believed was as transparent to him as a sheet of transparisteel – how he had learned about things like top-secret Jin Engineering manufacturing planets and IP and such things like that.

Later. Right now, he didn’t care.

“Prepare for jump,” he said again, the threat in his voice clear, and this time Xue Yang scrambled to obey, mumbling curses as he went. This was more typical of Xue Yang, but in this case it signified that he was concentrating, and that was all Lan Wangji cared about.

The rest of the trip passed as if in a daze, time counted in the beats of Wei Wuxian’s heart. Still strong, because Wei Wuxian was strong – this wouldn’t be the end of him. It wouldn’t.

Lan Wangji would make sure of that.

“We’re here,” Xue Yang said, breaking through Lan Wangji’s extreme focus on the rise and fall of Wei Wuxian’s chest. “I’m going to guess that our destination is the third planet? If you can call those other ones planets, they’re barely more than asteroids…”

Lan Wangji hummed, affirming.

“So, you going to tell me what this place is? Some super-secret Sith hideout?”

“No.”

“Smuggler’s base? Bounty hunter lair? Mandalorian terrorist cell? Clone factory?”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. Xue Yang had been reading too many historical action comics again.

“No, but seriously, Master! I deserve to know what we’re getting into, don’t I? What is this place?”

Lan Wangji was tempted to say you deserve nothing but what I give you, you filthy-tongue swamp-rat, but that was the Dark Side speaking, not him, and not only because the Gusu Lan Jedi order in which he had been raised did not permit cursing. It was simply anathema to him - he was Sith, but not a Lord, and he had encouraged this self-same insolence because it was better than having Xue Yang cringe before him like a kicked dog.

No matter how irritating it might be at times like this.

“It’s Jedi,” he said shortly, and to his amusement that actually shut Xue Yang up for a solid minute.

“I’m sorry, Master, I think I temporarily went insane due to Dark Force poisoning,” Xue Yang finally said. “But did you say that we’re planning on popping over and ‘borrowing’ the bacta tank of a bunch of Jedi?”

“Mm.”

“Master. Master. Please tell me you remember that we’re Sith, right? Sort of the sworn enemy of the Jedi? Arrest-on-sight orders? Any of this ringing any bells here? No? In short, have you lost your mind?”

Lan Wangji took Wei Wuxian’s pulse again. It was getting increasingly thready; he frowned.

“Take us in,” he ordered, and Xue Yang made a whining sound not unlike an especially agitated cat, but he obeyed, finding the planetary base and flashing them with a urgent medical attention required signal and transmitting the passcode Lan Wangji recited to him.

The base opened its doors in silent invitation.

Xue Yang took them in, apparently resigned to his fate and determined to pointedly suffer and judge him without saying a word.

This determination cracked the second they passed through the gates.

“Master!” he shrieked. “Master, Master! That’s the Qinghe Nie emblem!”

“It is,” Lan Wangji agreed. Foreseeing Xue Yang’s next question, he added, “It is here because this is an outpost of the Qinghe Nie Jedi order.”

Xue Yang sounded a bit like a rusty door when he hyperventilated, and even more so when he started laughing hysterically. How had he ever survived being a Sith before, if this was how he reacted to stress?

“Great, right, yes,” he said, nearly howling. “Sure, why not? Let’s go knock on the door of some Jedi and ask them for a bacta tank like we’re borrowing a cup of sugar, sure, okay, we can do that. Jedi are chumps, they’re all about mercy and sympathy and bantha fodder like that; we can con ‘em - it’ll be tricky, but it can be done when you’re in a pinch. I’m fine with that, up for it, it’s cool, all cool. You know who we can’t con? Qinghe Nie, that’s who. ‘Suppress evil no matter the cost’ Qinghe karking Nie.”

Lan Wangji ignored him, scooping Wei Wuxian into his arms and heading out into the saber hall.

Three grim-faced Jedi dressed in the immediately identifiable colors of the Qinghe Nie were waiting there, hands on their lightsabers and droids lingering in the corridors, but they did not attack. Instead, they led Lan Wangji, a nervous Xue Yang dogging his heels, to the medical bay, never uttering a single word.

The medical droids took Wei Wuxian from his arms – Lan Wangji forced himself to recall the Lan sect mantras on restraint and allowed them to do so without ripping out their wires for daring to touch him – but it wasn’t until Wei Wuxian was firmly encased in the bacta tank, the oxygen-rich liquid flowing into his lungs to heal him, the colors on all the screens all showing positive signs, that he was finally able to release the breath it felt that he’d been holding since he first saw the broken starfighter that encased Wei Wuxian’s broken body.

This was fine.

“Wangji,” a low voice said from behind him, and Lan Wangji’s back stiffened.

This was not fine.

The Qinghe Nie were a strange order of Jedi – almost heretical, really, by any traditional measure. The orthodox Jedi order, for the most part, valued calm and serenity and selflessness, prioritizing the logic of the mind over the yearning of the heart, preaching detachment from worldly concerns and attachments…

Qinghe Nie, in contrast, valued righteousness, and cultivated rage.

Halfway to Sith, Lan Wangji’s uncle had once remarked after a glass of something stronger than tea. He’d regretted it later, of course, and tried to walk it back, smooth over his uncharacteristic rudeness, but Lan Wangji still remembered.

The adherents of Qinghe Nie were of the view that for every virtue there was a fault – that the Jedi’s emotional remove would at times render them passive, that self-control could too quickly shade into indifference. They argued that it was the duty of the virtuous to be enraged by evil, intolerant of it, and that only through that anger would they be motivated to act to eradicate it.

Their philosophy often led to their deaths, whether through reckless action or through the corruption of rage into madness, but even their harshest critics had to concede that they were devastatingly effective. 

Lan Wangji had always thought that there was something heartbreakingly sincere about all the Jedi that took the harsh vows of Qinghe Nie, each one willingly trading away long lives for the sake of righteousness, for the ability to make a change in the world, each one unable to tolerate life if it meant they weren’t striving to make things better. Perhaps they did not match the Jiang for creativity or the Lan for elegance, perhaps their techniques were more brutish and less refined, their diplomacy little short of appalling, but no other Jedi order could match them for sheer power.

Very few people wanted to be between a Qinghe Nie Jedi and their target, and still less if they had allowed themselves to succumb to the beserker rage that sometimes took them on the battlefield – indeed, in a crisis that called for force of arms, most people who knew what they were about would rather have a single Qinghe Nie on their side than an entire battalion of war-droids from the Jin or Wen engineering corps.

Still, even that efficiency might not have been enough to convince the ancient sticklers of the Jedi Council to condone such a Sith-like view of the Force, but the Qinghe Nie also had an unsurpassed connection to the kyber crystals that were essential to the creation of lightsabers – the mines under their hands were far more numerous and more fruitful than any other order, and for all that they seemed to have dubious connections to the lightsabers they crafted and wielded, with their highly unusual one-sided edge, they were always open-handed and willing to let other Jedi pick freely from their stores. 

With the ancestral weapon of the entire Jedi order at stake, even the Jedi Council unwillingly bowed its head to reality and compromised.

Not very happily. Especially since the fierce young head of the Qinghe Nie order – the great Chifeng-zun, Nie Mingjue – had been constantly causing trouble for them ever since he had been admitted to their deliberations.

More relevantly, though, was that Nie Mingjue was also a good friend of Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji’s elder brother by blood, and it had been the gift of his token, his passcode, never revoked, that they had used to enter through the gates.

(Look what happened to the Twin Jades you prized so much, my old clansmen, Uncle, Father, Grandfather. Look at me now. Begging for scraps from a Nie -)

Lan Wangji turned and saluted, bowing deeply and ignoring Xue Yang, who had progressed so far into hysterical laughter that he was now hiccupping.

Nie Mingjue caught his hands and raised him up, just the way he always had, and that grim face surveyed Lan Wangji from top to bottom, those searing eyes seeming to pierce into the depths of his corrupted soul.

“You look well,” he said, which surprised even Lan Wangji, who had thought himself beyond surprises. “That’s good.”

“What the fuck,” Xue Yang muttered. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck – you guys are with me here, right? This is kriffing insane…”

The Qinghe Nie Jedi ignored him.

“Chifeng-zun,” Lan Wangji said politely, and ignored the man’s raised eyebrow. He was not about to fall back into calling him da-ge the way he’d done back when he was in the Jedi crèche, no matter how tempting – everyone had called Nie Mingjue da-ge back then, too young to be afraid of his fierce and barely leashed energy. “Thank you for lending us temporary use of your base.”

There wasn’t really a polite way to say I wasn’t expecting to run into you here under the circumstances, but from the way Nie Mingjue snorted, Lan Wangji suspected he’d understood regardless.

“Checking up on the Jin,” he said, an explanation that Lan Wangji didn’t deserve to hear. “Treasonous svapers, the lot of them. Is this Wei Wuixan?”

Lan Wangji nodded. His heart was unexpectedly in his throat as Nie Mingjue studied the other Jedi through the glass of the bacta tank, though he wasn’t sure why.

He was Sith now, after all. Why would he care what Nie Mingjue thought?

It would have been easier if Nie Mingjue had been angry at him, full of rage the way he so often was. Easier if he’d turned his tongue as sharp as any lightsaber to scolding him, or turned his face away in coldness. Nie Mingjue notoriously despised the Sith, had probably meant to call the Jin Sithspawn instead of svapers earlier, had probably switched the word only in deference to Lan Wangji’s current occupation – which meant he knew, because of course he knew, there was no way Lan Xichen hadn’t told him even if his position on the Council hadn’t already entitled him to all such secrets.

He knew, and he still persisted in acting like – like –  

“Cute enough,” Nie Mingjue commented, and Lan Wangji covered his suddenly burning face with both hands. “You have good taste.”

“Please stop,” Lan Wangji mumbled, mortified beyond all belief. Xue Yang was looking back and between the two of them with his jaw gaping wider than a Gungan’s.

Nie Mingjue snorted, amused. “I carried you around on my shoulders when you were knee high, Wangji. I think I’m entitled to torment you a bit about your crush.”

Xue Yang looked like he was going to forsake the ways of the Sith, convert to Qinghe Nie, and start logging prayers at the temple of Nie Mingjue, and Lan Wangji couldn’t even blame him.

“Don’t you have anything to say about –” Lan Wangji shut his mouth with a snap. 

He didn’t actually want to hear Nie Mingjue exorcising him for his choices, no matter how little he regretted them.

Nie Mingjue was silent for a moment, contemplative. “No.”

Lan Wangji blinked, not understanding.

“I don’t have anything to say,” Nie Mingjue clarified with a shrug. “I can’t say I entirely understand why you chose what you did, but we all choose our own paths in the Force, Wangji. I have faith that even though your path leads you to the Dark Side now, it will eventually lead you back to us once more. If you keep your sense of righteousness about you and continue to stand up for what you believe is right as you always have – and avoid engaging in the wholesale slaughter of innocents the way so many Sith do – I will never be disappointed in you.”

…maybe Lan Wangji would allow the people in that spaceport to live.

But only because it would hurt Wei Wuxian to know that he had sacrificed so much for nothing, of course. It was pure selfishness, nothing more. 

(The Dark Side hissed in his head, bitter-angry-vicious-hate-hate-hate, but Lan Wangji hadn’t been Hanguang-jun for nothing. He controlled himself, allowing for only the influences he chose to accept – it was his independence that had led him to the Dark Side, and his independence, he believed, that would allow him to forge his own path, as Nie Mingjue had said, even inside the ways of the Sith. His uncle would say that such thoughts were pure arrogance, pride before the fall, but, well. He’d already Fallen, hadn’t he?)

“Would you like to stay with him until his vital signs have recovered?” Nie Mingjue asked, and Lan Wangji nodded, grateful despite himself.

Grateful, too, that Nie Mingjue did not speak of Lan Wangji reconciling with the rest of his old order.

“I will not stay longer,” he added. “I know it must be a burden to you, opening your doors to one such as me –”

“Ridiculous,” Nie Mingjue scoffed. “This is a secret base, Wangji. If you don’t say anything about it, who’ll know? And before you ask, I’m going to tell Wei Wuxian that you saved his life whether you’re here for him waking up or not, so take that into account when selecting your leave time. And I’ll exaggerate.”

He would, too, Lan Wangji thought fondly. Nie Mingjue had always been big brother to all the Jedi younglings, no matter how grown up they eventually got, and he never let them forget it.

“I’ll consider it,” he allowed, and settled into a meditation pose at the side of the room.

“As for you,” Nie Mingjue said to Xue Yang, who straightened up so quickly that he might as well have attached a ruler to his spine. “I hear that you’re the one that’s been attacking Hutt palaces?”

Xue Yang glanced at Lan Wangji, who sighed. 

“You shouldn’t encourage him, da-ge,” he murmured. “He gets into enough trouble as it is.”

“Comradery does more to defeat evil than any amount of solitary philosophizing,” Nie Mingjue proclaimed, certain as ever in his own righteousness. It would be unbearably irritating if it was anyone less sincerely bullheaded about it, earnest but full of flaws. “Anyway, it’d be good for some of our padawans to see a Sith in action without needing to go up against one right off the bat. You in?”

“…in? I don’t – there aren’t any Hutt palaces around here..?”

“They take their travelling palaces on the Quiberon Line,” one of the Qinghe Nie Jedi said, and Xue Yang’s eyes lit up at the promise of what he undoubtedly thought was an opportunity for wholesale slaughter. It wouldn’t be, of course, not when he was going to be fighting alongside the strict Qinghe Nie, but it would keep him busy for the time it took Wei Wuxian to stabilize and recover.

Maybe Lan Wangji would even stay long enough to speak with his Wei Ying before retreating to be his silent and unwanted protector again.

Maybe.

[anasticep]

Why Julie and the Phantoms is a masterpiece of a show. Part 2. Heroes and Villains or Let that foil shine

NOTE: Thanks again for your kind response to Part 1. I never expected that. It being my first tumblr post and a first meta in quite a long time I was blown away. I read all the tags, some were really hilarious. About having more than one brain cell xDDD I laughed so hard. It means a lot.

NOTE2: Please remember that the gifs are made by me, so don't crop, edit or give as yours.

Part 1.

Before diving into meta, I have to mention that the Villain of the story is actually one of the best in the decade. He’s cool, evil from the start, we understand his motives and we certainly are not supposed to love and make excuses for him. The writers made sure of that. So back to the main topic.

A foil is a character who contrasts with another character; typically, a character who contrasts with the protagonist, in order to better highlight or differentiate certain qualities of the protagonist

Foils in literature are not necessarily antagonists. A friend can be a foil or sometimes even a thing, a song. Whatever can make a good and real contrast to the protagonist. But it’s not very simple to use this author’s device and not fall down a deep hole. Because you have to make sure you did just the right amount of work to make it understandable for a reader, the things you want to contrast are definitely there and still you don't waste a character. On TV it can be even harder given limited air time. And, well, I don’t come across this device being used in full very often nowadays. It’s usually good and evil fighting for the plot. That’s why I personally appreciate JaTP so much.

Caleb is clearly a foil to Luke. As much as I’d love to say that Julie also has one, that’s not entirely true, at least not this season. Carrie is not her foil though it may seem so, and I really think that’s cool as Julie’s journey is being presented through her own demons and I'm going to cover that next. That being said, of course Caleb doubles as an antagonist plotwise, but I personally consider him being written more as a contract to Luke so we could see and appreciate his character and journey better.

1. Origins

Caleb and Luke have extremely similar backgrounds. They are both natural performers. They know how to deliver, because c’mon, “Now or Never” is something and so is “The other side of Hollywood”. Stage is their natural habitat, their element, power. Although they channel this power from completely different places.

Let’s start with our little ball of energy. It’s emphasized TWICE that he doesn’t care about the money aka the physical side of art.

All Luke wants is to make music. Connect with people. He is so happy just to be heard despite him loving to perform. Making music is what makes him feel alive and basically that’s enough. I think if there was no “hologram” magic at all, Luke would have still been extremely happy to make music with and for Julie. Because that’s the way he is.

But Caleb doesn’t know that. He knows, and I’m standing by that, right away that Luke is the one to aim at. Because we always feel the similarity in people. If Luke said yes, Reggie and Alex would have followed. So Caleb recognizes the passion and shoots at them what he thinks is appealing. And, oh boy, he delivers.

“The Other Side of Hollywood” is a perfect song to emphasize Luke and Caleb being foils for each other. Follow me here:

But these lines come from very different places. For Caleb the only thing that matters is himself. He owns the show, he IS the show. It’s about being famous, drowning in applause, admiration. Look at how he performs. Confident, yes, but still very much in control. He must keep his perfect face. No flaws, no real emotions, no real connection (Did you miss ME? I did too // This band is back). Whereas Luke is simply living the best time of his life each time he performs. Is it just jamming? Bring it on. Doing fun riffs? He’s all for it. He doesn’t care how he looks (though who could deny gorgeous sweaty Luke), he owns the show just because he is a natural.

So back to the business. Caleb immediately puts the boys in his own shoes:

On the other side we live like kings // Your soulprint on the walk of fame on the boulevard of your wildest dreams // I got your glamour, got your gold, got all you’ll ever need

And, I mean, he is not that wrong. You can see the appeal on the boys’ faces. They are young, passionate, handsome, talented musicians. Of course they wouldn’t deny fame. Of course they would want all that to some extent. And Caleb is very sure he pulled the right strings.

Watch me make a move, I’m your number one choice

Also I have to mention, as we are talking about TOSOH (IKEA name again) and it being a foil for Luke, thy lyrics still don’t forget about what is important for Reggie and Alex (we’ll talk about that just a bit later):

Welcome to the brotherhood -> Reggie

Where you won’t be misunderstood -> Alex

Then again, lots of foreshadowing in the song, if you listen carefully the lyrics are stressing the true colors of the offer:

A tomb with a view

Man, what a metaphor. I would have run out of there the minute I heard this line. But our boys share one brain cell (I can’t get over how funny this is) and it’s currently taken by Julie, so I don’t blame them.

Disappointment is huge. Caleb read it all wrong. So we are moving to the next point in our Heroes and Villains essay.

2. Recruitment

It’s very cool that Caleb offers the boys to join his band right after Luke offers Julie to join Sunset Curve. They both are going out of their ways to get that (although have different budgets apparently. But look, they live in a garage). Luke made a hit with a bunch of Julie’s not very well structured lines (I love Flying Solo with all my heart as a song, but as a poem it just looks weird to me) to impress her, and we all saw the show Caleb had thrown to impress the boys. Plus food. And fancy dancing. But here is where contrast comes again.

Caleb offers to join the band, yes, but only as backup singers. It’s his show, remember? It’s only about him. He doesn’t care if they are even good. He wants their magic under control.

Share the spotlight with ME / How do you like MY new band?!

Luke offering Julie a spot in the band is a completely different story. He saw what she is capable of. He instantly knows she must be the key to a new sound, a new level. And he, a natural performer, frontman, lead guitarist, steps back and gives the spotlight to Julie. To think about it, he could have just got her magic under control by giving her simple lines, incorporating piano in the songs and that’s all. They would be visible, he would still be a center of attention, and Julie herself wouldn't mind that much. But that’s not who Luke is. Yes, there is a funny scene of “Hey, I’m your lead singer” and “you don’t have to be mean”, but it’s just messing around. Because right after that he finishes Flying Solo, writes several other songs with Julie, seeks her approval of Sunset Curve songs and basically follows her around like an adorable excited puppy.

Moving on and back to the rejection. Again the writers are mirroring them. Julie quits the band & the boys decline the offer. What does Luke do? Well, he tries the way he knows: books a gig, makes Reggie and Alex sing in perfect harmonies and does his puppy eyes thing. And it doesn’t work. And Luke goes to reflect and then probably try to come up with a plan. But something tells me he would not have haunted Julie until she joined them.

What does Caleb do after the initial rejection? Puts a cursed stamp that leaves them no choice but to join HGC. You don’t need to say more.

But in fact the more I think about it, the more I suspect Caleb also not possessing enough mental capacity for a human being. Like, if it wasn’t for Willie, how would they even know? Has Caleb planned to simply show up one day and casually explain? Look, foils in everything.

“You’re in a tough spot… So, you wanna join the band?” | “Looked like it hurt… you know where to find me”

But we sidestepped a bit.

3. Pulling the strings

After the song Caleb comes out to consolidate his success. What he does is clever and, btw, that’s the only time he becomes Julie’s foil. They are stating basically the same thing.

Again, Julie is concerned about the band and the boys, while Caleb is only concerned about having them under control. But they both are pulling basically the right strings.

What is interesting, Caleb actually impressed the wrong person (and that person is our sweet Reggie). Luke follows the string Julie pulled. Although the offer is tempting, he insists twice that they are in a band already directly to Caleb and then in Eats&Beats he says "It's like Julie said, we have a new band, a new sound». No matter what Caleb promised, Luke is not affected at all although Caleb’s offer is a very-very safe choice.

Speaking about using friends as foils, Alex and Reggie also serve as contrast characters for Luke at some points. Luke’s indifference to money is first stressed through Alex who is clearly the chief accountant for the band. His lines about not getting tips, living in a garage and «it’s a little bit about the money» are waved aside by Luke. Reggie is clearly the most affected by the whole Bobbie thing. His lines «I don’t care what Julie said, I’m glad we scared Bobbie», «So we’re gonna forget about getting back at Trevor?» are getting a clear contrast by Luke’s «It’s what Julie said, we have a new band, a new sound» and «He has to live with that guilt».

While editing the article I realised a very cool thing I haven't noticed before. How badly Luke wants to go on tour. And again that's another thing Caleb offers as if reading his mind. That's actually brilliant, to think about it.

Caleb is a VERY good reader. He tests the waters with a speech about disappearing from stage and going around the world and all dreams coming true. Still he doesn’t know the boys and especially Luke, so his phrase “no real connection” doesn’t register that much.

But he learns. Remember the lines I’ve marked before?

Reggie is afraid they will not be together after they cross over. He is in desperate need of a family. So wouldn’t it be nice to spend the rest of your afterlife with your brothers? (Reggie's main insecurity is loneliness, feel of a broken family. That's why he is the most concerned about crossing over. Will his family stay intact?)

Alex is insecure, and not being understood by the people closest to him will always hit hard. So welcome to a place where you won’t be misunderstood. And actually we know there is a guy you like and find comfort in. (Alex's insecurity is growing up in times when he could not truly be himself even with his family and for sure not believing he would ever be able to find someone meant just for him)

That mirrors the whole Luke’s beach speech perfectly. Only comparing them we can truly appreciate why Luke is the leader. He shuts down his own demons to make Alex and Reggie remember that they are not alone (“and I believe in you”. sorry. Olicity fan).

Caleb makes them suffer to get what he wants. But this time he is careful with the words aimed at Luke. Yes, he repeats his words about vanishing and applauses BUT he makes sure that his words about CONNECTION are the key words for Luke. Intense look, calming voice, touching - these are all elements of hypnosis. And Luke is in a daze. (Continuing the parents' thing, for Luke the main insecurity is not managing to connect with his mom. Maybe that's such a big thing for him: through all these people he wanted to find that connection with her)

4. The Hero’s journey

That’s the best part actually but I won’t be saying anything new or that you don’t know. Luke is made of lyrics and music. That’s his soul, heart, that’s the feeling running through his veins. He doesn’t need anything other than that in his life. Playing for eternity is “a gift no musician would ever turn down”. But he actually does turn it down. As well as his dream to go see the world with his band (is there covid in jatp universe?). He is the one who resists the hardest to the pull. Luke, who always has a guitar in his hands, doesn't want to play. Because it’s not only about the music now. He has this amazing girl in his afterlife who was willing to accept them for who they were, helped Luke battle his own demons, eased his pain and made him open up. And it doesn’t make sense any longer without her anymore. “And you’re a part of me now till eternity”.

Caleb, being Luke’s foil, completely misses the whole point of connection. It’s not in his nature. His house band are just recruits (Just so happens you’re in luck we’ve got a vacancy). For Luke his band is his family (We are the only family we ever gonna need). The Connection theme is one of the main in the show. And it’s so cool to show it focused through Luke whose best way of interaction is a touch. But not being able to touch Julie Luke has to find other ways, although it’s not that simple for him. And Julie backs that up: We connect in so many other ways. They literally touched each other's souls. Without knowing she put a stamp of her own on Luke, Alex and Reggie. They’ve never felt loved enough, appreciated enough, supported enough. They’ve only had each other. And Julie’s stamp is love. And for Luke (as well as Reggie and Alex) from now on this girl is worth dying for all over again.

_______

So yeah. I hope you enjoyed it, as I for sure enjoyed writing. There is gonna be a part 3 about Julie and a few honorable mentions of parallels of the Pilot and the Finale (I hope at least to do all that). I’ve also figured very very cool connections in the songs and I can’t wait to share.

Also as I was heavily speaking about The Other side of Hollywood, @catty-words has a wonderful meta on rain metaphors here (sorry for tagging, if you don't want to be tagged), check it out if you somehow missed it. It's super clever.

[lunarflux]

han jisung x reader / femme o/c

genre — fluff

cafe!au pt 2

suggested background music: x

9:59pm

Like clockwork, Jisung switched off the lights to The Rose Room. The quaint little cafe he owned with a friend seemed to have the most solemn atmosphere just before closing, and tonight was no exception. The red glow from the streetlights danced along the freshly polished floor like a night light. It was time to lock up and head home.

Jisung polished off the last of his coffee, forever regretting how much caffeine he continuously consumed just before he had to sleep. All the part-timers had gone home for the night, and the only company left in his coffee house was the sound of flickering lights and a symphony of car horns from down the road.

10:05pm

Jisung had his key in the door, but in his head, he was counting down.

Ten seconds.

With a deep breath, he heard the gears click together, and right on time, there she was.

Hyacinth & Holly - that was the name of the flower shop across the way. Jisung had his routine locked down that by the time the doors had shut, you were about to walk out.

Always carrying a fresh bouquet of blue hydrangeas, there you were. Locking up your own little kingdom of hues and aromas, you turned and gave him a small wave.

This was the routine that Jisung always looked forward to at the end of the day - seeing you even if for a moment. You both always walked in opposite directions, but that simple five seconds of eye contact were enough to make him forget his fatigue.

One day, he'll talk to you.

One day.

But this is not that day.

Jisung turned his heel, knowing you'd easily turn yours away from him. The walk back to his apartment was always quiet, but lately, it was even more solemn.

Hyunjin, your last-minute roommate had moved out last week to live with his girlfriend. It was just one less person he interacted with during the day, and it was only then that he realized, he didn't really talk to that many people.

In his head, he would imagine you walking through the doors of the Rose Room.

Strawberry latte? Iced rose tea? - He would guess your favorite drinks in the hopes that one day, you'd walk in, and he could surprise you.

Hyunjin used to tease him.

"Just go over there on your break. You're never gonna know her name unless you just talk to her."

Jisung scoffed at the thought of that conversation, remembering how it took over a month for Hyunjin to confess his own feelings. Then again, the flower shop opened up a few months ago, and still he hasn't spoken to you.

One day.

**

Jisung walked into the Rose Room at 2:00pm.

An unfamiliar vase with two massive sunflowers sat on the bar top.

"What's this?" He picked up one of the yellow stalks and prodded it with a small smile on his face.

Jeongin continued to work on his Americano. "The girl from the shop across the street dropped it off this morning. She said someone canceled their order, and she'd already clipped the stems so it'd be a waste not to put them out."

Jisung felt the lump in his throat expand. She had been in here.

"I was gonna bring her a drink to say thanks, but I didn't ask what she liked." Jeongin slipped off his apron. "I figured an Americano would be okay -"

"I'll do it." Jisung interrupted. "But give that to the next customer, I'll make something."

**

Carrying a small plastic lunch bag, Jisung steadied himself. The strawberries in the sandwich he made had to stay pristine. Paired with the rose tea, he made his way over to the storefront, ready to be either rejected or welcomed.

"Hello!" A part-timer greeted, the name 'Yeji' scribbled on her name tag. "Can I help you?"

"Um -" The familiar lump in his throat was back. "Th-The girl who brought the sunflowers. Is she here?"

Yeji tilted her head, looking over to the sunflowers behind Jisung, not realizing the amount had been altered. "That might have been my boss? But she isn't here."

"Oh." Jisung was almost relieved.

"Is that for her?" Yeji motioned towards the lunch bag.

"No - I mean, yes, but -"

"She'll be back later. She only came in to help prepare an order, but she closes usually." Yeji said with a smile. "Do you want me to leave that in the back -"

"No!" Jisung nearly screamed. "I mean, no, no, I'll come back. If... that's okay?"

The surprised girl nodded quietly.

**

9:48pm

The strawberries in the sandwich got soggy and the rose tea watered down. Jisung slumped his head over the counter, still cringing from today's interaction with the girl who very well knows his crush and could easily ruin his chances.

Why am I so awkward?

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, peering out into the street. He didn't know if you were there. He didn't even know if he could muster up the same courage to go back.

Jisung reached for the door, tempted to just run over if only to catch you before you closed up, but before he could, you emerged.

Holding his breath, he watched as you walked outside - but not alone.

You were with someone. A guy. He patted your head, and you smiled back.

Jisung's grip on the door handle pushed the blood from his knuckles. It was too good to be true. He waited too long.

And just like that, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He didn't even know you, yet he already felt that familiar pang of sadness and disappointment. It wasn't as if he was craving a relationship, and perhaps, he had built you up too much in his head. He didn't know your name or your favorite color. He didn't know the music you liked to listen to on your way to work or the sound of your laugh. He really didn't know anything, and seeing this solidified that thought.

You were a stranger after all.

**

Hyunjin and his girlfriend, the day manager left together today, but not before trying to talk Jisung out of his mood.

"You know that might not be her boyfriend," she shook her head. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"What other guy would meet up with her that late at night?" Hyunjin rolled his eyes. "If you were the closing manager, you know I'd show up to walk you home."

Jisung cringed, seeing the couple exchange loving glances.

"We're just saying not to give up. You can't wait forever."

They weren't wrong. It seemed better to try now and get rejected than to wait and wonder.

**

9:59pm

It seemed automatic now. The counting. Only now, he didn't really know what he was counting down to.

Jisung heaved a heavy sigh as he inserted his key.

9

8

7

"Are you closed?"

5

Wait.

Jisung nearly stumbled down from the small ledge of the door.

There you were. Apron and purse in one hand a fresh bouquet of blue hydrangeas in the other.

"Yeah, we closed -" He cleared his throat. "We closed - I mean, we close at 9:30."

"Oh." You almost looked upset. "I'm sorry, I'm just so used to seeing you leave after ten, so I wasn't sure. I always wake up too late to come here before my shift, and you guys are always so busy.

Jisung put his key back in the lock without thinking. Opening the door, he held his breath.

"I can make you something."

**

You swung your legs under the seat. Jisung quietly steeped the same kind of rose tea he wanted to give to you before. Glancing over, he could see one of the last strawberry sandwiches of the day as if it had been waiting for him to reenter.

"Do you always work late?"

He heard your small voice over the counter. Walking up, you joined him so that the only thing between you was marble. Jisung nodded, setting the glass of tea and sandwich in front of you.

"Yeji told me you stopped by yesterday. I'm sorry, I missed you."

"It's fine." He could feel the cold sweat on the back of his neck. "I would have brought it later, but your boyfriend was there."

"Ex."

"Ex?"

"Ex." You smiled, quietly sipping your tea with a blissful sigh he'd never seen before. "Dropping off my spare work key. I'd forgotten it when I moved out last month."

Ex. Her ex boyfriend. Of course.

"Why did you break up?"

Picking at the edges of the sandwich, you shrugged. "You know how it is. Working adults not working the same schedule. I like working the night shifts. I like closing the store. And he hated how many hydrangeas I brought home. Said it made the apartment smell too much."

"I think they're pretty. The blue ones."

As if you'd forgotten the color already, you giggled. "They're my favorite."

"Mine, too." Jisung could feel the air lessen.

"I can bring you some tomorrow if you'd like."

"That'd be nice." He smiled, genuinely for the first time in what seemed like a long time. "If you want, I could -" He caught himself.

You nodded towards him, midway through your sandwich.

Punching his leg, Jisung quietly scolded himself. "If you want... I could walk you to work. I'd like to see you - the flowers, I mean, and everything tomorrow. Y'know. Before it gets dark."

"You'd wake up early for flowers?"

"W-Well, yes, and I need to wake up earlier anyway - I drink too much caffeine at work, and I need to stop sleeping so late, and -"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'd like that," you beamed.

Jisung almost choked. "I'm sorry, it's just. Well. I don't even know your name."

"y/n." You poked his cheek. "All you had to do was ask."

[sailorshadzter]

Prompt: Joffrey reveals himself to be a monster to her towards the start of the stay at Winterfell .Knowing that her parents cant reject the match between herself and the Crown Prince without repercussions,she stages a kidnapping and slips herself into the group heading to the Wall. Maybe she cuts off her hair/dyes her hair/steals some of Brans clothes.Kinda like a Mulan AU I guess?

OOOOOH WOW

this is one of those asks that i have to scroll for a minute to get to!!! but i got to it!!! IM SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO VERY LONG but inspiration strikes when it strikes. anyways, i might come out with a part 2 / dont tempt me to make this into another au i never finish but man the idea is GOOD.

anyways

i hope it was worth the wait.

As the night begins to dawn, Sansa Stark finds it hard to keep both feet on the ground.

She's lovestruck, falling hard for the golden haired Baratheon prince that's been put before her. With his charming good looks and regal posture, he's enough to make any maiden's heart flutter. In truth, even now with Joffrey and his parents, the King and Queen of the Iron Throne there in her own home, she's finding it hard to believe that she, she, of all people, will be the one to marry the prince. That someday she might be a queen as beautiful as his mother, Cersei Lannister, who smiles so sweetly whenever they meet, who speaks so tenderly, who upon after the betrothal was made official, calls her daughter, as if she so truly were.

"Come my lady, let us take one last walk." It's Joffrey now, bending over his arm in a bow as he approaches where she sits among the other young ladies of Winterfell. They erupt in giggles around her as she blushes to the roots of her hair but nods all the same, reaching out her hand to take his, allowing him to help her up onto her feet. Though she glances towards her mother, who sits engaged in conversation with her father and the King himself, Joffrey tugs on her hand and she can do nothing else besides follow after him. She knows it's inappropriate for her and the prince to sneak off alone like this, but she can't help but to excitedly wonder if he means only to steal her away for a private kiss. Besides, they are to be married in only a few short weeks, so what harm would it do?

They walk together out into the moonlit night, a surprising chill to the air that sends a shiver down her spine. If Joffrey notices, he does not speak on it, rather he continues to lead her through the courtyard where only a handful of guards and nobility mingle. It was astonishing just how many people came along with the King and his family and Sansa isn't certain there would ever be a way to remember all of their names. Along the back, they step into the gardens, the darkening sky pierced by the soft white light of the moon. "I will miss the moonlight of the North," she says as they fall to a stop before the brimming fountain, her lips curving with a smile. "But I suppose I will love it all the more whenever we return."

At her words, Joffrey turns, his expression not one she's seen before. It's not confusion, but rather, it looks like anger. No, it is something far beyond anger, and it frightens her down to her very core. Startled, Sansa begins to stammer an apology, but Joffrey silences her with a wave of his hand. "Return?" He scoffs, looking from her back towards Winterfell and back again. "We'll not be returning here once we leave," he goes on, shaking his head with a scathing sort of laugh that is far more chilling than the wind had been.

"Y-your pardon, I only meant... When we visit..."

"Did you not hear me, my lady... Once we leave here in two days, we shall not be returning. Not you and certainly not me. You will be my queen and you will stay South, where you belong." A strange feeling is creeping up within her; it's cold, it's deep, and it's so very dark. There is something about the way Joffrey says this that she knows it to be true. She realizes then, quite suddenly, that if she leaves with him as intended, she will never again return to Winterfell. She swallows. This isn't right, she thinks, he musn't mean it.

"I know the North is not entirely to your pleasure, but it is my home... I can't imagine never returning," she smiles, hoping her easy going tone is not lost to the shaking of her voice. "You may even grow to enjoy it here, if you give it a chance..." To her horror, Joffrey's hands shoot up and for a single instance, she thinks he means to strike her, but rather he takes hold of her by the upper arms, his grip like a vice. "M-my lord, you're h-hurting me," she whimpers, staring up into Joffrey's blazing eyes.

He leans in close to her, as close as he might have done for the kiss she had once hoped he'd bestow upon her, and breathes a simple reply. "Bid your home farewell, sweetheart, for we ride south in the morning." His grip lessens and then, he lets go entirely, taking a single step back from where she stands. The morning? She thinks, these words sinking in, realizing now that though she'd been told it would be another day before leaving... Evidently, someone had decided that there was no need to stay another night and no one had chosen to tell her. She wonders if this is cruelty on Joffrey's part or kindness of her parents, hoping to spare her the pain of knowing it was her last night home. Either way, it matters not, because she knows there's no way she can go South.

Not ever.

[ x x x ]

As she lays in bed, Sansa can do little else but stare at the ceiling above her bed and wish to be someone else. If she were anybody else, she would not be marrying the prince, and she would not be leaving home. Sansa had tried to explain her feelings to her mother, who had merely laughed and said it was nervous jitters. I had them, too, before I married your father, Cat Stark had said as she brushed out her daughter's hair for bed one last time. The next time she brushed this head of hair, it would be for her wedding day. The longer she spent with her mother that evening, the more Sansa realized she could not simply back out of this wedding. Sansa was not a stupid girl, though Arya might have argued differently, and she knew of the trouble brewing between the families. Between the kingdoms. She's overheard enough whispers and listened to enough speculation between her brothers to know that war was a very real possibility- some said only the good friendship between the Baratheon king and their father was what kept them safe. Sansa also knows, even just from the words spoken during their betrothal, that her marriage with Joffrey solidified the peace between them.

And yet...

The longer she thinks about it, the more she knows that despite it all, she cannot ride South. She knows of the stories, the ones of what happens to Stark men that go to King's Landing... What was stopping something terrible from happening to her as well? There had to be a way, there just had to be a way to free her from this wedding and ultimately, the prison King's Landing was certain to be.

It's just as she's resigning herself to her misery that something comes to her.

One of the stories she had read as a young girl, a story of a princess taken in the dead of night by an evil lord. Said princess was to be rescued by her true love, a shining knight of virtue that rides in on his white horse. And more is coming- it's not just her that is to leave on the morrow- but Jon, as well. Jon, her bastard brother, was being sent to the wall to join the Knight's Watch. He certainly would not be her knight, but if she could somehow slip in among him and the others heading out... Yes, it might possibly work.

But if it's going to work, she must work fast, as she knows the men are set to leave before morning light. And so she leaps from her bed and pulls on her dressing robe. It is late into the night, hours still from the morning call, but there is always the fear of a guard or even her father discovering her out of bed at such an hour. But she says a silent prayer to the Old Gods and then tiptoes from her room.

[ x x x ]

When the morning call comes, she's already gone, a single note hastily scratched in writing she hopes looks entirely unlike her own penmanship.

She's been gone well over an hour by then, for just as she had planned, she manages to slip away among those leaving for the Knight's Watch. With an old cloak draped over her shoulders, she keeps the hood up, shielding from those around her the red hair she's so well known for. Before leaving, she managed to snag some old breeches and shirt from the laundry, and she's braided her hair and tucked it up as much as she could. Luckily for her, she's mostly ignored by the other men, aside from one man who growls at her when she bumps into him halfway into the morning that first day.

The group walks for hours; far longer than she's certainly ever walked at one time. She's tired and she's hungry and she hurts in places she's never hurt before. But, there is a strange sense of warmth comes over her as she settles into a place of her own, away from the others, nearer to the river that runs through the forest. With no knowledge of how to build a fire, Sansa is thankful for the warmth of the summer night and hungry as she is, realizes she's far more tired than anything else. After a sleepless night and endless walking, she will forgo food if only it means she can sleep.

And so she wanders closer to the water's edge, where there beneath the canopy of darkness, she finally lowers her hood.

From where he watches, Jon finds himself intrigued by what he sees.

He can't really say what draws him to follow the hooded figure out to the river beyond simple curioisity. But now as he watches, he sees hands pulling what certainly must be pins from hair and to his shock, long hair comes tumbling down. Now he's really curious.

And just then, a cloud above them shifts and the moonlight illuminates her.

The red hair is vibrant, the pale moonlight weaving between the strands like ribbons. He's stunned, but his foot snaps a twig all the same. When she whips around, it's steel blue eyes he finds himself staring into and Jon wonders, despite sixteen years beneath the same roof as her, he's never noticed that look within her eyes. "Sansa..." Her name is on his lips before he can stop it and he realizes now that she is quite like a deer in the crosshairs, a creature torn between fight and flight.

She can't believe this.

Her fleeting sense of safety has fled, vanished into the night the moment those Stark gray eyes settled upon her. Of course, she can't now understand how she ever expected to avoid Jon forever, but she had hoped to at least be further out than this when they did meet. "Jon," she greets, taking a step away from the river and closer to where he stands. The moonlight is bright and it illuminates Jon in a way that makes her blink, makes her think. "Please..." It's the only plea she can offer, the only words that in this moment, seem right to say.

Jon studies her for a long moment; all things considered, she must have had a good reason to come. Sansa Stark wasn't the type to just... Throw it all away without a reason. Her dream of marriage to a prince was to come true, after all. Her golden haired Prince Joffrey had arrived in Winterfell only days before; a smug, ugly sort of kid that had grown tall, taller than even Robb, but one that had stolen Sansa's heart all the same. Jon wonders what could have made her do what she'd done. "I won't," he promises suddenly, earnestly.

Her face relaxes, she smiles.

She feels safe once again and it is far warmer than it was before.