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ghostflowerhotpotch · 9 months

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Spiderman Society and Manipulation Part 1

Okay! I had been wanting to do this post for a while, while I don't think we can flat out call the Spiderman Society a cult, the reality is that the more you look at it, the more twisted and crazy the spider society becomes.

I had seen a lot of people complain about the spiders in the society (specially on Gwen,) of how they could let this happen and how could actually believe is a good idea to let people die. And I don't think a lot of these people realize that the organization is operating in a way that is made to manipulate people, and things are far more complicated that what you may realize.

I would estate now that a lot of the things that fall under Cult behaviours are kind of inevitable by the nature of the organization.

I also want to emphasize that I DON'T THINK MIGUEL IS EVIL, or is even aware of the damage he is doing by the way he is running this operation. I truly believe there is no one who believes more in this than him, and all he does is for the common good.

And he is so focused on that goal he doesn't realize the damage he is doing.

WARNING: The following discussion will involve talking about Cults, psychological manipulation, controlling behaviours and such. If you think these topics may be a trigger for you, please consider skipping this.

Levels of Information

It hasn't been flat out say, but you can see in the movie that there are levels to the amount of information each Spider has on the organization.

Pavitr is aware that the Spider's society duty is to stop villains and beings from other dimensions from breaking havoc; these people ended up there by accident and need to be contained and sent to their respective universes.

However, he also says "I can do both," meaning that he has to be unaware about living in a canon event, and most probably, the existence of canon events.

Hobie also, seems to be in a somewhat of an intermediate level.

Here, Hobie says how he actually doesn't have much of an idea of what's going on with the organization.

However, he does appear to know more than Pav and Miles.

Here Hobie confirms that he knows that Miles is an anomaly. At least that's the impression he gave me considering the circumstances.

Now, we need to balance a few possibilities here.

Hobie being aware of anomalies but not canon events isn't exactly the weirdest concept; anomalies are entities from another universes coming in, which is of course, not suppose to be normal occurrence in any universe. Miles being bitten by a spider from another dimension would make him an anomaly just for that alone.

Hobie didn't seem particularly surprised when the canon events conversation came up, but I can buy that 1) He knows how to hide his emotions well, which would make sense if his universe is anything similar to what it is in his comics, 2) He may had suspected something like this was going on with the information he has at hand.

This also makes sense with his character, because I am sorry but I really cannot believe Hobie knew Pav was going to go through something traumatic, and would just let Pavitr suffer. ESPECIALLY for something Miguel says.

There is the possibility that he knows about anomalies from Gwen and not the organization itself, this would track considering he has admitted that the only reason he has been hanging around is because he wants to look after Gwen; and probably Pavitr too. He seems to be the type of person who looks after more vulnerable, young people. Which is pretty punk of him.

I could also believe Gwen at least telling Hobie about anomalies, because they are close friends (FRIENDS, look I like this ghostpunk and other ships because I am like that, but in the movie is obvious Hobie just seems Gwen as a friend. Again, don't bother shippers.) And because Gwen would obviously be upset about not being able to visit Miles, and venting to Hobie (who for sure would not rat her to Miguel, and would understand her situation.) As well as explaining the reasoning of the situation.

Why would she explain that? Well, because she needs to justify this still making sense, being the good guys.

Remember, Gwen ended here not just because she wanted to be with other spiders, but because she thought her home wasn't safe anymore. She needs to justify this being worth it because she is a traumatized teen with not a lot of support and is trying to cope with it until the reality exploits her in the face.

But probably that's a conversation that is better for another day.

I don't think people are realize how absolutely TRUE this rings for Cults.

Independently if this is a religious or other type of cult (because yes, not all of them are religious;) something that tends to happen is that there are levels to what people know; and the longer and more loyal you are to a cult, the more they let you in.

In fact, the loyalty thing is sometimes more important than time; if they see you are committed enough to one level, they may let you in the next bit of information.

This is because most cults start trying to say pretty reasonably things, a lot of them involved the common good and the possibility of a better life; and then the more they convince you to some ideas, the more they let you in the crazy stuff that is actually underneath. And this is on purpose, because a lot of people wouldn't had stayed too long if they knew the bat shit crazy information from the get go.

So they intentionally manipulated you into thinking their side of things first, and then they try to become your new support network and community.

You wouldn't believe an stranger, but your new family, or I don't know, new organization, who welcomes you in when you have nowhere to go, and offer to guide you in a way you desperately wanted help but never had the chance- Why you wouldn't believe them?

Well, I am getting ahead of myself.

This is how you get cults like Scientology, where at first people only had a vague idea of what was going on, until some people got in deep enough to extract some information and reveal to the world how nuts a lot of this sounds.

Preying on those facing difficult times

I will probably had someone mad at me because this title and choosing this particular screenshoot can feel a bit like a reach, but hear me out.

Yes, I understand that neither Miguel nor Jess had bad intentions when they ask her to join, in fact Jess seemed fully worried about Gwen because she had no one.

But again, Jess and Miguel aren't in this to manipulate people for their evil schemes, they fully believe all of the philosophies they are preaching.

While Gwen's case is the most extreme (that we are aware of at least,) this really rings my alarm bells WAY too much if you ask me.

Because of things like this:

Say what you want about the commitment Miguel has with his mission, I am not saying saving the multiverse isn't important (though it would help if Miguel had bothered to double check his theory,) but if you talk to someone who has lived in an abusive household, ask exactly what it did for their mental health being afraid of fucking up because they may get you kick out.

(It's figurative speech, if you have the chance learn about it but don't ask anyone who isn't comfortable talking about the subject.)

Let me tell you something; living afraid of what would happen to you just for existing is not a walk in the park, and while I don't think Gwen is truly walking on eggshells with Miguel; it cannot be easy knowing in the back of your mind that if you mess up badly enough, you will end up in a place where you may risk ending in prison, being homeless, or that your mere presence may make someone you love die.

(After all, technically; ASM-90 can't happen if Spider-Gwen isn't there to fight anyone, right? Yeah I wonder what exactly Miguel would had done about that.)

You saw the amount of spider-people this society has, you also know how spider-man stories work; no freaking way Gwen is the only one in this situation. Maybe Gwen is the one who's situation is most at stake considering Miguel was already wary of her for her relationship with Miles; however I can't imagine that if let's say, a spider doesn't want to go along with a canon event, they wouldn't let them stay.

"But OP! Miguel is just trying to be practical, you can't pretend he let people stay if they are putting in risk the mission."

Yeah here is what I have to say to that: Is absolutely horrible to let this scenario exist in the first place.

There is plenty of resources here; the Spider Society HQ has a weird architecture that couldn't had been cheap, all because is made for spider-people in mind. The place is HUGE, he is on the surface world (because unless I see evidence of otherwise, I bet my laptop that the underworld city is where crime and people without too many resources need to go, for not being able to afford the surface.) Not to mention all the technology they have should open to more possibilities, right? If not health wise (Miguel's world is probably more medically advanced that the ones of many other spiders, for example.)

There is no way, resources couldn't be use to help other spiders. I say it before, I find ludicrous that Jess, Miguel or someone else couldn't talk some sense into Captain Stacy. Or that someone could be supporting Gwen better in an emotional sense, because that poor teen needs some type of parental figure in her life and none of them have interest in it. Which again, is fine, but if you know there is this issue, as an adult who decided to take this teen, you should find someone willing to do it!

I do not give a shit that they are super heroes, is plain as day that Gwen has issues, and is looking for someone older and wiser to be there for her; I am not saying Jess should had done it because I can't blame her for not wanting that role, but if you can't do it and for some reason can't talk some sense into his dad, find someone!

Yes, there is a psych spider-man, but that is clearly not doing enough. Heck I wouldn't be surprised if the guy wasn't even good (like I get that he is a spidey and that he hears these stuff constantly, but imagine telling something that is traumatic to you, and your psych can't give less of a shit or even be sensible about the subject.)

They have these people in a choke hold, either obey, or you would get kicked out to horrible conditions.

I had been reading a few comics; Gwen's world SUCKS, if her world is half as bad as it is in the comics, I wouldn't want her going back, period. Peni also has some horrible circumstances; (her situation is better in the after school saga, but still.) I can't imagine how many others are in this exact boat.

Because is not just that this place is providing a safe heaven for Spiders, is also a community.

Spider-people tend to be lonely, a lot of them are in worlds where they are the only super hero, keeping this a secret for the safety of their love ones.

So you are telling these people who are normally abused in some way or another, who suffer from the loneliness of this job; that unless they behave and obey, they will lose the only community where they can be themselves, where they can ask for help, or have a place to rest.

And I can already see people typing angrily about the multiverse and it's well being, and let me put it this way: In the real world, if an organization (not just a company, but charities and such,) ends up having a work space that puts an unnecessary level of stress and fear for the people in it; wouldn't you be mad about it?

So why exactly I shouldn't want Miguel, someone that should be a good guy, care for the people that he has under his command? Wouldn't make sense that the people that need to take care of the multiverse are doing mentally well, considering that putting that type of strain in someone can also affect how they do their job effectively?

"But Miguel is not thinking about those things, he is focused to the cause! He just has his priorities, and wants his subordinates to understand how important is this too."

Hmm. So what I am hearing is that Miguel wants everyone to be ready to let whoever is necessary die, if not kill (because you cannot tell me Miguel "I don't always like what I have to do." O' Hara hasn't done it.) And leave everything behind for the cause, no feelings involved; and wants teens and young people who had no business being this pressured to do it as well.

Yeah this is not the argument you think it is. There is enough money, resources and people that there is no way this couldn't be run better, but is not.

But I feel I had gone long enough without bringing other sources into the table; so let's start with that shall we?

Understanding Cults: The Basics - Psychology Today

Isn't an interesting coincidence how this fits EXACTLY what happened to Gwen, to a T?

Is approached to, not even shown interested in joining on her own. Look at that screenshot from earlier, Gwen says "I don't know how to fix this," she wants to fix THIS, the things with her dad, to make her situation less messy.

She doesn't know what she is getting into, she doesn't even know that she will not be able to visit Miles yet. Much less canon and all that jazz.

Think about it for a second, Miguel sees a teen who has her own dad try to SHOOT HER, and what he sees is "well, another recruit." Tell me that it isn't a bit fucked up.

You could try to argue that Miguel offered his place so she could have a shelter, except that no, that's not what happens.

This happens after her dad already tried to shoot her, he may had stopped it, but he wasn't interested in recruiting her, not even after Jess is trying to convince him to let her in.

You know what happens? She says "I don't know how to fix this."

That's the catalyst.

I thought of finding a way to explain how, but honestly someone did a MUCH better job than me already.

Miguel's DESTRUCTIVE Idea of "SPIDER-MAN"

If anyone is bothered by me not leaving the explanation behind Miguel's reasoning, is because this conversation isn't about Miguel's mental health and reasoning. Because that's not excuse for this mess regardless.

The point is: Miguel wants people to help him fix this mess, and even if the logical conclusion here would be helping her out with her situation rather than just include her into this mess; Miguel isn't thinking about that.

I will not say is malicious in any way, heck he may think he is doing her a favour like this, but that's another problem, not an excuse. He is so focused on his goal that he leaves behind the well-being of his subordinates.

Which is a problem, by any measure you want to give it.

Let's go back to the sources shall we?

With this at hand, let's review

Do they enlist people without giving the entire story of what's is going on and deceptive ideas? Yes.

Because they enlist people saying they need them to help save more people and the universe, WITHOUT mentioning that some of YOUR love ones need to die.

I feel on this angle, I had already mentioned enough in the rest of the post.

It is authoritarian, with a leader that is controlling? Well what if we see the evidence?

Look how many angles he has here, is not even all of them, there was another with Gwen in another shot. I am not sure what type of camera or device he is using for this, but wouldn't you find it disturbing if your boss had THIS amount of footage of you while walking on your company?

It gets worse.

He is spying them in their downtime.

You could make the argument he had the right to watch over Gwen because she was technically on duty at that moment (it doesn't make it less creepy and honestly unless you are like a cop, I can't imagine too many jobs where is a good idea to have something record what you do at any moment.)

Except that you can see in the superior corner, that he has a video of Hobie playing; he doesn't have his mask so this is clearly not a mission. He is spying on people even OFF the clock.

Do any of you seriously think is a coincidence he did this with Gwen and Hobie, the "problematic" spideys?

Do you think Gwen and Hobie even know to the degree they are being watched?

(Sidenote, Miguel apparently has been looking over Hobie, yet seems unaware that he is making his own watches apparently, and maybe to which extend he steals. Hobie is so smart he fooled Miguel just like that. Another reason why Hobie is the best.)

You know something that bothers me about this? Is why is Gwen asking this?

Gwen is supposedly in the loop, she knows about canon, she knows about the ASM-90, but she is asking this, as if she hasn't been given that hard proof either.

Which goes back to the lack of transparency, but for this part of the discussion, the important thing is what Miguel does next.

Doesn't answer her question, menacingly towers over her until she almost falls back, and then kicks her out.

Do you notice the interesting part about this? He wasn't planning to sent her home, until she QUESTIONED his logic.

It wasn't about she going to see Miles, it wasn't about messing up with the spot; if it was about that he would had decided to get rid of her earlier, even the second she spoke her mind would had justified it, making it remember she was there.

Yet is not until she asks that, that suddenly Miguel decides this is enough.

Wouldn't you call that authoritative?

Let's go to the next part, the disrupt of personality; because maybe you think that's definitely not the case. Well...

You may read this and not think too much about it, but again, when you had been looking into cults and similar stuff before, this starts siren bells in your head as if he was talking about a doomsday.

Miguel is emphasizing how being Spider-man involves sacrifice, it involves pain and losing love ones. And you need to be okay with that.

You can see with Miguel that he prioritizes the job above everything else, he says that much himself really. And he expects everyone else to prioritize it too.

Sure, Peter is a loving father with clearly time for his daughter, Jess is pregnant; but you cannot tell me that if a canon event involved Peter losing his daughter, or Jess losing her kid; Miguel would say something different.

He expects people to follow canon events no matter how painful it is, and his justification for it is that it is part of the job that you signed for, so you need to be okay with this.

Because being a spider-person and the job should be above all else, don't you think that involves forcing an identity onto you so you obey better? Because you are first spider-woman over being Gwen Stacy, for example?

Tell me how much of this applies to the Spider Society, because for what I had gathered? None of this is allowed.

People aren't allowed to interact with who they want (like Gwen being obviously forbidden of seeing Miles,) if you question the leadership you may be kicked out; not complete information until you had proven trustworthy or there is no other choice.

And something interesting about all of this, is that is technically not just preying on the people with difficult circumstances like Gwen, though that is bad enough. But funnily enough...this all also uses the trauma and guilt of its eldest members to justify their actions.

BUT, I think that would go better with a part 2! I feel the topic while part of this discussion, deserves it's own post, specially since I will talk a bit about why I think Miguel believes so far in this theory, even if the evidence shows is flawed.

Look, I really, REALLY, don't want to call the Spider Society a cult; I don't even think the writers had that in mind when they did this; they just wanted to show that Miguel was flawed.

And is for sure, not as bad as other things that I had seen, things that had happened in real life.

However, this isn't a good look, this organization checks way too many boxes, enough to effectively give psychological damage; I can assure if this wasn't a super hero movie Gwen and other people will have to go through therapy for this. Heck even if this trilogy has a happy ending I wouldn't be surprised if the people need some psychological help once they realize they did horrible shit for nothing.

I feel there is another things, minor details that could qualify, but those feels almost nitpicky and inconsequential compared to the rest, and what some of what is left..

I don't think I need to give more reasons anyways; the Spider Society is harmful to their people, feel free to think otherwise but I cannot see an operation with this many red flags and not call it how I see it.

I don't know what's worse, this, or the fact that is not the worse thing I think Miguel has done.

But that's everything for now! Hope you guys like it, and if you have the chance, please donate on my ko-fi or share this post!

#atsv files #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o' hara #spider society #gwen stacy #jessica drew #hobie brown #miles morales

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oblisker · 1 year

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infodump about fred’s autistic traits

This is going to be going over many of Fred’s behaviorisms and things I’ve observed about him, and why I think they add up to the conclusion of him being autistic.

Disclaimer: Some of these things may vary depending on the iteration, being more exaggerated or toned down.

He lacks an understanding of tone and many, many things tend to go over his head. This can lead to other characters being upset with him, and him not understanding why.

He is seen taking things literally or being oblivious to any ulterior implications of other people’s sentences, also leading him to be overly-trusting and, at times, vulnerable to manipulation. Sarcasm usually goes over his head.

Very blunt. He has a tendency to always say what’s on his mind, and as a result, offend those around him. He never seems to have any intention of harming people by doing so, he just doesn’t see any issue with what he’s saying.

Tone often does not match statements; ex. “You seem to have healed well.” “What? …Oh, not my bones!” (Smiling)

Terribly oblivious to Daphne’s advances. This doesn’t even need any examples, because I could give dozens. Actually, in many adaptations where other women come onto him, he is entirely unaware of any romantic implications.

Will say potentially disturbing phrases without an understanding of why they are.

Intense apathy to danger. This goes at the cost of himself, and others. He will repeatedly put his friends in harm’s way, seemingly without a concern that it will endanger them or get them hurt, even though when it does, he feels terribly guilty. His room is full of traps. He trapped his friends’ houses in preparation for any mysteries.

On a related note, he is very goal-oriented, and will go to extreme lengths just to solve a mystery, or even find one.

Back to the apathy to danger, he will interact with dangerous things and be excited about them. Sometimes even if they’re not related to traps. This excitement presents itself in scenes where he may compliment the craftsmanship of a cage, or net, or rope, even if they are at risk of being harmed in the moment.

While he is initially dead-set on rescuing Daphne, in the first episode of Mystery Incorporated, he stops his concern for a moment to compliment the cage, which is, to a lot of people, inappropriate behavior for the direness of the situation.

He has many troubles communicating and distinguishing his and others feelings, medically described as alexithymia. This is very common in autistic people.

One thing that is very apparent about him is that he tends to get attached to inanimate objects. M.r trapples (his childhood teddy bear), traps as a whole, nets, magazines, his ascot, “Tyler” (the moose in his house), and of course, the Mystery Machine. He often treats the Mystery Machine as his child or a loved-one generally, and he is shown to care very deeply about its safety. This may be due to his lack of understanding of other people and feelings of isolation, or simply because he finds an indescribable solace in it, but either of these are autism symptoms.

Now, onto traps. Possibly the most blatantly autistic thing about him of all.

Over the course of many movies and shows, Fred has displayed an intense love and interest in traps, sometimes prioritized at the same level he does his friends. He admits to sleeping with a net in one movie, and in possibly the same one, (I haven’t watched it) here comes a scene that heavily resembles the behavior of an autistic person.

In the scene, Daphne asks him to contribute something to the conversation—Fred excitedly blurts out a fact about nets that he is eager to share, and Daphne says that no one wants to hear his net facts. Fred goes on to drop to his knees, beginning to sob about how much he loves traps.

Autistic people are prone to infodumping and sharing random facts that they have acquired, even if irrelevant to the conversation—as Fred is seen to do many times—and are often disappointed if they are shut down. It is one of the ways that we best communicate.

The thing about special interests is that your entire life revolves around them. It’s not just that you’re always thinking about it, because that’s not always the case, but it can also mean that it’s just something you incorporate into your everyday life because of your intense passion for it. It’s simply a part of living for you.

And that’s exactly what traps, and, even mystery solving, are to Fred. He makes up phrases that no one but he uses, ex. “Trap you later!” or, “It’s trappin’ time!”, as I mentioned before, his room is full of traps, he and his friends’ houses are all covered with traps, it’s just something he tries to fit into every aspect of his life because he enjoys it so much.

And, because he loves traps so much, here’s where his struggle with empathy comes into play. Because of his passion for traps, he is constantly under the assumption that everyone else that he’s friends with enjoys traps as much as he does. He has issues fathoming other people’s perspectives and is often wrapped up in his own head. Some may pass this off as narcissism, but that’s an ableist accusation and ignores how autism affects people.

Something that’s very, very much worth mentioning is how autistic people often lack the tools to understand “normal” communication, therefore giving people the impression that they are unintelligent, but can have “gifted” levels of intelligence when it comes to their special interest. And, yes, that’s exactly Fred. His problems with socially acceptable communication and recognizing tone may make him seem dumb, but he’s just the opposite with a college level understanding of physics, outstanding knowledge of engineering, and intellect regarding all that is traps—which is objectively impressive for a boy that is typically 17 years old.

Fred is someone kind who is constantly looking to do good for the world, however he struggles with allistic communication and perspectives outside of his own, causing him unintentional conflict between he and his loved ones. He is a genuine, honest person, and usually has the best intentions, despite not understanding people all that well.

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everseeking · 4 years

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Hi! Is it okay to ask for a Levi smutxfluff where he's benched from injuring his leg but it's getting a lot better. His fem! S/o is part of his squad and he gets the report that she was in a life threatening situation but she made it safe and he's waiting for the scouts to return. He waits for them and doesn't know what to feel fjejfjs im sorry this is hella long!!! Also no manga spoilers/references please

- hello !! thank you so much for requesting ! that’s totally okay and don’t apologize for the length, it helped me out having details :) there aren’t any manga spoilers or references, but there are season 2 spoilers in case anyone hasn’t finished it yet. i hope you enjoy and thank you again for requesting <3

relief

- levi ackerman x reader

- warnings: season two spoilers, nsfw contains smut; hand job, oral (giving), fingering, cream pie, slight overstimulation but not much, AFAB!reader

once again, levi injured his damn leg.

after being temporarily handicapped from his leg injury when he initially fought the female titan, he made a personal vow to never let an injury like that happen to him again. it was a major setback and seriously hindered his abilities. but unfortunately, titans makes no promises.

it was during an expedition, of course, and things were taking a turn for the worst. levi was unaware that his squad would be needed on an expedition the next day, so he kept them up late the night before to polish their skills as much as possible. during the mission, it was clear they could barely keep their eyes open.

levi was extremely stressed out, worrying about his team as well as what he was going to say to erwin later when he yelled at the commander for such a late notice on the mission. for now, the captain had to make up for much of his team's slack. as much as the kids wanted to put up an argument when he flew in and stole their prey, they kept their mouths shut. there was no way they could’ve finished the job on their own and knew their protests weren't worth it, as it felt kind of wrong to argue with someone who was saving their lives.

it was brutal work since he too was bordering onto exhaustion, but levi pushed through and helped his team clean up the last hoard of titans. just when he thought he was in the clear, a titan came up on sasha and tried to grab her. if he had gone any slower to finding her, he wouldn’t have been able to save her. but thankfully, levi was able to use the last bit of his gas all at once to throw himself forward and push her out of the way.

he seriously couldn’t catch a break as this resulted in him getting himself caught in the titan's grip. his blades weren't drawn prior to being grabbed so cutting himself out was impossible. the giant had levi's entire lower half engulfed in its hand. if his second in command hadn’t been there he would have for sure been a goner.

it was y/n’s turn to play hero, as she flew in and swiftly sliced the titan's nape, freeing not only her captain but also her partner from definite doom.

levi wished he could say it was a clean save, but he couldn't deny the bone crunching he heard below him. they arrived back home in one piece with only levi's broken leg to report.

so not only had he injured his leg again, but it was worse than his sprained ankle from the forest. the captain was even more upset when the medics informed him that he had to be benched for six weeks. that meant no physical activity for six weeks. yes, that includes sex.

over the course of his healing, there were many times when he claimed to be okay so he could accompany his team on expeditions, only to be rushed back to bed by his colleagues. many people even urged y/n to nail down the door to her and levi’s shared room in order to keep him trapped in there. y/n laughed off the idea, not even considering it because she knew levi would only feel more tempted to break out. a few nails wouldn’t stop him. the only thing he could say he enjoyed about his time off was having y/n as his "personal nurse," when she wasn’t off with the rest of the team. she still had to stop things from getting too heated every now and then.

“doctor’s orders !” she’d always say as she stopped a heated make out session or after he had tried to pull her into his lap.

when it came to more domestic care, levi hated having her watch after him. he definitely appreciated it, but the last thing he wanted was to be a burden to her. he wasn’t just burdening her with his personal care, but also the burden of the entire team since she would be his replacement for the time being. many times he tried to wave off his partner and tell her he could manage on his own before he finally told her he didn’t want to have to rely on her. he was surprised when she brushed back the hair in front of his forehead to kiss his forehead, whispering that she wanted to take care of him and help him.

finally, he had reached the sixth week and was ready to hit the sky again. the morning of the latest mission, y/n noticed levi had a bit of a pep in his step as he prepared to venture outside the walls for the first time in a few weeks. she giggled at his poor attempts to get excited since he wasn't the best at expressing his emotions, but she felt a little guilty since she didn't have the heart to tell him that he was once again sitting this one out.

hanji had pulled y/n aside the night before and broken the news to her. she explained that although his road to recovery had been going well, he needed to take one more week to ensure that he was completely healed. it hurt y/n’s heart a little bit to hear this. over the last few weeks she watched her partner practically counting down the days until his return, so she made sure to tell hanji that she wouldn't be the one breaking the news to him.

hanji also knew how restless her friend was and wasn't sure if she would comeback alive after telling him the news, so she waited until the last possible second to tell him. literally, word got around that it was time to make the final preparations before heading off when she pulled him aside and told him.

he was enraged to say the least. he grabbed the front of hanji's shirt and pulled her down to his level as he began to chew her out in front of everyone. the soldiers awkwardly shuffled past the two, definitely not wanting to get involved. it wasn't until y/n came and informed the two of them that it was time to go when he finally let go of her. hanji laughed nervously and decided to give the couple one last minute of alone time as she headed back to her squad.

there was a lot they wanted to say to each other, levi wanting to tell y/n to be careful and y/n wanting to apologize for not telling him sooner, but they both knew this wasn't the time for a conversation. y/n put on a determined face and told him that she would do her best to lead the team in his place, offering him a salute, then headed over to join the others.

levi was super bummed. he waited behind and watched as the horses left to make their way towards the outer walls before he sulked to himself and retreated back to his quarters to finish the less exciting side of his job; paperwork.

it had been a few hours since the cadets had left that morning, so the golden sunlight that was now pouring through levi's windows notified him that they should be back any minute now. he stood up from his small desk and stretched his back that had started to stiffen up from sitting in his chair for the last few hours. many nights had been spent sleeping in the same chair, but he swore it was more comfortable sleeping in it than doing paperwork it in.

he took a look around the room and saw the rays of sun illuminated the dust particles floating through the air. it annoyed him to say the least, as he had yet to find a way to clean the air. for now, he would settle for sweeping the room one last time. just as he was pulling a broom out of the closet, a hard knock came from his door.

"captain levi ?" a young soldier called from the other side. levi was slightly annoyed that he was being interrupted, but he managed to keep the ‘this better be important,’ thoughts to himself.

he placed the broom back in the closet and made his way to the door. upon opening it, he saw the distressed look on the soldier's face.

"what is it ?" levi pryed, not really sure what to expect at this point.

the soldier straightened up and cleared his throat. "the first group from today's expedition has arrived with a report. the rest of the scouts are on their way back now, but i was told to hand you the part of the report that regards the condition of your team." the boy held out the paper in his hand for his superior to take.

levi practically ripped the paper out of the soldier’s hand, causing him to flinch a little, but it was understandable. a million scenarios were playing through levi’s mind about what could have happened. he feared that once again he had lost his entire squad and had to start all over again. it was a pain he never wanted to live through again, especially since his lover was apart of his team this time.

his eyes quickly scanned the clearly hastily scribbled words, searching for words like death, killed, and eaten. the was almost at the end of the page when he realized he hadn’t heard anything terrible yet. eren ended up not needing the use his titan form, mikasa had another impressive kill streak, armin and connie were in a bit of a predicament but got out fine, and jean and sasha were safe too. the only one that had been yet to mentioned was y/n.

in an attempt to distract a group of titans from one of her fellow soldiers whose ODM gear was malfunctioning, y/n l/n used herself as bait. she was successful in saving the soldiers life, but one of the titans caught ahold of one of her gear’s cables and she was thrown to the ground. l/n was found unconscious by armin arlert and she is currently being watched until the group arrives and she can be transported to the infirmary for a full check up.

levi’s heart sank deeper and deeper into his stomach with every word he read. y/n was always putting others first regardless of how dangerous a situation was. she was selfless to a fault. he warned her many times that something like this would happen, but she never listened. her heart would never let her not help someone in need. it was one of the things he loved about her the most.

the awkward shuffling of the messenger soldier’s feet brought levi back to reality. before waving him off, levi asked if there was any more information than what was shared in the report, but he shook his head.

the soldier finally left, leaving levi frozen in the middle of his room. the report was too vague for him to know what to think or do.

how high was she from the ground when she fell ? did she just get knocked out ? or did she hit her head hard enough to cause internal bleeding ?

the thought that her current condition could be much different from the report also crossed his mind. y/n was stated to only be unconscious, but she could have gotten worse since.

there’s no point in pondering the what-ifs, he reminded himself, but it was easier said than done. he moved over to his neatly tucked bed and sat down on the edge of it, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands.

he didn’t know what he would do if he lost her. what the team would do if they lost her. before he could fall back into his dark thoughts about his partner’s condition, a large commotion came from outside alerting him that the cadets were back.

with a small stumble as he jumped up from his bed, levi sprinted out of his room to go outside. there were already a lot of people crowding around the carts and horses, so he did his best to slip past them all. the people in the way that had managed to see his face instantly moved aside, not wanting to anger the captain after seeing the intense look on his face.

after making his way to the front of the crowd, levi scanned the area in search of y/n, having no luck until he heard a familiar voice yelling ‘captain.’

his eyes met with eren’s who was waving frantically in order to flag down his captain who was now quickly making his way over to the group.

“she’s alright,” the titan shifter called out over the other voices in the crowd. levi didn’t want to get his hopes up as he wasn’t sure how accurate eren’s words were, but regardless, a wave of relief came over him.

as he pulled up next to the cart they were sitting in, levi also met armin, who nodded in agreement with what eren was saying. the blond opened his mouth to add onto what his friend had said, when he was interrupted.

“where’s levi ?”

hearing his partner’s voice almost brought levi to his knees. the weight of not knowing her condition finally fell off his shoulders. he peered over the side of the cart to see y/n laying on the ground on her back with a white bandage wrapped around her entire head. her face instantly lit up when she saw him.

the girl jumped up and threw herself onto the captain, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. if this were any other situation he would’ve told her to get off of him, but right now he allowed himself to wrap one arm around her back and placed his free hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer to him.

levi couldnt bring himself to scold her for being too rough while she was injured. instead, he sighed and hugged her tighter.

“thank god you’re okay,” he breathed out against her hair. he felt her smile widen as she nuzzled her head deeper into the crook of his neck.

after the two finally pulled apart from each other, levi immediately took y/n to the infirmary where they confirmed she only had a minor concussion.

the moment they entered their shared room for the night, levi pulled y/n in for another hug. she graciously accepted, wrapping her tired arms around his middle.

he pulled back and brought up a hand to brush her hair away from her face so he could place a soft kiss on her forehead where her bandages previously were.

y/n placed her hands on levi’s cheeks and gently pulled his face down so she could plant a kiss on his lips. levi eagerly kissed back and began taking careful steps backwards to lead her onto the bed.

they now sat on the edge of the bed and kiss turned more passionate, with y/n opening her mouth to swipe her tongue across levi's lower lip asking for entrance into his mouth. he eagerly accepted, greeting her tongue with his own as they made out.

without breaking the kiss, y/n carefully straddled herself onto levi's lap taking extra care to not put too much pressure on his healing leg. however, her plans became a lost cause when he grabbed her hips to meet his. her eyes widened as she felt his bulge between her legs. tension built up in her core as she instinctively rolled her hips forward to grind herself against his clothed crotch.

it was levi's turn for his eyes to widen as a wave of pleasure swept across his body. he broke the kiss to meet his partner's lustful eyes as she recoiled her hips back once again to bring herself more pleasure. he sharply inhaled before kissing her deeply one last time before throwing her off his lap.

y/n flopped down on the bed next to him, laughing, but she took the hint and started undressing herself like he did. once their clothes were in a messy heap on the floor, levi took a moment to pull her head close to him so he could kiss the side of it, worried he had only made her concussion worse when he threw her off of him moments ago.

“are you okay ?” he pressed, lips still against her head.

y/n laughed and placed her hand on top of his that was on the side of her head. “i told you a million times that im okay, my love.”

“and i’ll ask you a million more times just to be sure,” he replied, pulling back.

as he moved away, y/n grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him in for another deep kiss. one of the captain's hands placed itself on the small of her back to pull her closer while the other felt around behind her looking for the bed. once he gripped the sheets, he brought the hand up to the other side of her back and took a step to turn his own back towards the bed, then fell onto it, pulling y/n down with him so she would land on top of him.

he cringed as he remembered her concussion and quickly asked if she was okay, only for her to laugh once again and reassure him she was fine. before levi could ask anymore questions or make anymore quips, she returned her lips to his. their tongues explored each other’s mouths, searching every inch of each other’s caverns.

she pulled her lips away from his to smile at him while she slowed her breathing. the sight alone was enough to make levi fall in love all over again. her messy h/c hair fell perfectly, combined with her eyes filled with pure adoration from looking at him and the goofy smile that was on her lips. no one had ever looked at him the way she had. his eyes tore apart from hers and trailed down to see the rest of her body.

"you're absolutely perfect," he whispered, just loud enough for y/n to hear as he took in every curve on her body. levi thanked the stars that the moon was bright enough tonight to let him see the soft pink hue that spread across her cheeks as he complimented her.

she leaned in close to his ear and whispered "as are you," back to him. each movement of her lips tickled against his earlobe. it sent a shiver down his spine. y/n shifted her body weight so that she was now sitting up and straddling his lap once again. her right hand met his strong chest, then dragging down to his toned abdomen followed by his lower stomach.

y/n scooted back so she could get a full view of his hardened cock. her index finger traced a straight line from the base of his member to the tip. it took a lot of self control for levi keep himself from shuddering as her nail softly grazed the side of his cock.

levi propped himself up with his elbows. to get a good look at what she was doing. he watched as her hand went back to the base of his shaft and her fingers wrapped around it. she started slowly pumping him, resulting in his breaths becoming deeper. he closed his eyes for a mere second when a new wave of pleasure swept across him that made his eyes roll back in his head.

y/n had lowered her face and began sucking on just the head of his cock while her hand's pace quickened. her cheeks hollowed out from the pressure of sucking his tip and he fisted one of his hands into her hair. he didn't push her head down, rather, he gripped it to stimulate pleasure for her as well as to let her know he was enjoying what she was doing.

she hummed against him and started to incorporate her tongue as she swirled it around his head, which sent yet another wave of pleasure throughout his body. when y/n added her free hand to the mix, using it to fondle his balls, the stimulation almost became too much for levi to stand. he used the fist in her hair to pull her off him and up to his face.

a small dribble of spit leaked out of the corner of her mouth. before y/n had a chance to wipe it, levi was pulling her forward and swiping his tongue against her mouth to lick it off, then planted open mouth kisses down her face and up her jawline until he reached her neck where began to suck her skin and create a few hickeys. she slowly leaned her head back to give him better access to her neck.

she said a silent thank you when she realized the marks were placed just low enough to be hidden by the collar of her white shirt so no one would know a thing the next day. everyone already freaked out enough when they found out y/n and levi were a couple.

without removing his lips from her neck, levi lifted y/n from her hips then moved one of his hands to feel the folds of her pussy. she was soaking wet, so all her had to do was cover his index and middle fingers with his slick before he slowly slid them both inside of her. a low moan came from y/n’s parted lips as levi’s fingers went deeper inside of her.

he pumped them slowly, reaching deeper each time until he was knuckles deep into her core. when he curled his fingers to hit her g-spot, she had had enough.

“inside of me...i need you inside of me levi,” y/n moaned, digging her nails into his back. levi laughed to himself at how desperate his lover had become from just his fingers. it was clear to him that he needed to avoid any injuries that could put a halt to his sex life at all costs from now on.

he pulled his wet fingers out of her and gripped his cock, making sure to cover it with her juices that were still on his fingers so it would be easier to push inside of her, then positioned himself with her entrance. y/n moaned once again as his tip rubbed against her folds before sliding into her. she sharply inhaled as his head entered her. levi gave her a moment to signal that she was ready before thrusting deeper inside of her. after a few weeks of abstinence, y/n needed a bit longer to get adjusted.

after about a minute, levi was able to thrust his hips up and push his full length inside of her as she dug her nails deeper into his back. he knew it was payback for him marking up her neck when she broke her hazy gaze to give him a smirk. just for that, he pulled himself almost completely out of her, then thrusted balls deep back into her, hard.

y/n’s hand flew off her partner’s back and onto her mouth to stifle the loud moan that almost escaped. she shot him a fake glare and he returned the smirk she had given him earlier. levi wanted nothing more than to hear her call out his name loudly, but it wasn’t worth the harassment he’d face from his colleagues the next day.

after she had composed herself, y/n removed her hand from her mouth and placed it on her partner’s bicep. he stopped thrusting into her, knowing she wanted to take over. just like he had thought, y/n started to rock her hips so she was grinding on him much like she had done whilst they were still clothed.

the pleasure was much more enjoyable now that he was inside her. each time she rolled her hips forward, his cock hit her cervix. now it was levi’s turn to stifle a moan, as y/n road him into ecstasy. his grip on her hips increased which most definitely left yet another mark on her skin.

the fact that y/n was biting her lower lip also didn’t go unnoticed by the captain. whenever she did this it was a sure fire way of telling him she was close to her release. he wrapped one arm around her back and in a swift motion flippped both of them over so that y/n was on her back and he was hovering over her.

she let out a small squeal at his sudden shift and wanted to scold him for not being careful with his leg, but her words were lost as he snapped his hips against hers. she once again went to cover her mouth to avoid her moans escaping, but levi’s hands interlocking with her own prevented her from doing so. he gave both her hands a quick squeeze before going back to thrusting himself into her. her eyes stayed trained on his, while his watched the way she engulfed his cock. it drove him so crazy she could feel him twitch inside of her. he high was near, but there was no way he was going to let himself finish before his partner.

he focused more on his thrusts, moving his hips better so he would hit her g-spot harder with each thrust. the way he rolled his hips to meet her core finally sent her over the edge. he kissed her deeply as she moaned against his lips while he continued to ride out her climax. even after she had come down from her high, levi kept thrusting into her, chasing his own release.

the overstimulation was enough to send her over the edge again, this time being joined by his own release. he let out a low grunt as he finished inside of her painting her inner walls with his cum.

levi pumped into y/n three more times before he stopped and fell onto her chest, not even bothering to pull out. after six weeks of no sex, their orgasms were both super intense.

“maybe we should wait another six weeks before our next round if it’s gonna be that good again,” y/n teased.

levi’s head shot up so he could see her face. y/n bust out laughing when he finally realized she was kidding. levi rolled his eyes and pushed himself off her so he could slide out of her.

the mix of their juices that escaped her as he unsheathed his cock from her made his member twitch back to life, becoming hard again.

“or i guess we could go again right now,” y/n added after sitting up herself and seeing his hard on.

levi smiled and pushed her back down gently then hovered over top of her once again.

“that’s more like it.”

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

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

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Mace Windu #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Jedha #Jedi #Phoenix Posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

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anon asked: OMG pls pls pls could you write a possessive yandere Diluc??? I'm sorry if this is generic...

[repost because someone mentioned this post wasn’t showing up in tags... tumblr i s2g...]

Diluc:

Diluc has seen the worst and best that humanity has to offer. Regrettably, the worst is what has made a lasting impression, darkness waiting to strike in every crevice. He’s always done his best to protect everyone. This is amplified to a new, unprecedented level when his obsession for you takes root.

There are plenty of threats to be wary of -- Diluc will reason -- but he starts actively looking for them in the wrong places. No longer is he concerned with just making sure you get home safe, unbothered by monsters. Now it starts to seep into your relationships. Innocent gestures are mistaken as malevolent, Diluc stepping in where it’s wholly unnecessary.

Compared to most yanderes, Diluc has commendable self-control. He won’t openly lash out to anyone that speaks to you in a friendly manner. That doesn’t mean he’s not upset about it, he’s just used to hiding his emotions, and has had lots of practice suppressing everything. So while others chat you up, romantic intentions or not, he’ll slink off to sulk.

Surprise surprise, it’s Kaeya who catches onto this hidden behavior before anyone else can. Kaeya actively exacerbates the situation, quite literally adding fuel to the fire, unaware of the monster he’s awakening in the process. To his credit, Kaeye’s intentions would be in good fun. Maybe for some lighthearted teasing to laugh about later over drinks with you and your friends. Instead, he released a burden onto your life.

Kaeya might let a friend or two into Diluc’s “crush” on you, planning to see how far they can push it. He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder, whisper inside jokes into your ear to make you giggle, offer to walk you home, etc. Diluc begins to excuse himself from the room when this happens to get a hold of his kindling fury. Diluc knows Kaeya is just trying to get a rise from him, that he’s giving him what he wants. But god, that twisting sensation in his stomach when Kaeya is the one touching you, getting that melodic laugh, and being the center of your attention... it’s unbearable.

Diluc feels like it’s such a shame. He’s a busy man, so being around the same areas as you is a rare treat, that’s now being tainted. Can he not have this single enjoyment in life? To make matters worse, he’s now hyper-aware of anyone possibly flirting with you. Diluc is growing paranoid that while he’s unsure of how to pursue you, someone else might come along and take you away.

While trying to provoke Diluc, Kaeya tends to be on the receiving end of some biting language. With an unimpressed expression and even tone, Diluc will tear into him for his obnoxious behavior, even if you express that you don’t mind. It’s remarkable he’s managed to control his darker urges for this long. Should Kaeya -- or anyone else for that matter -- not get the hint, Diluc lists some concealed threats.

He’ll start physically blocking anyone’s path to you, looming over almost like a bodyguard. Diluc’s presence is intimidating and effective in warding off people he finds irritating. He’ll act like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about if you mention how close he is, but there’s an almost indiscernible blush on his cheeks.

While you’re not paying attention, Diluc will motion to his weapon, scaring off anyone brave enough to come speak to you. When you turn around he’s back to wiping down glasses. If he needs to distract you, he’ll offer free drinks, not that he ever makes you pay anyway. The few times you do manage to convince him to let you pay for your own tab, the money is “mysteriously” sent back to your residence by mail.

Bonus Childe:

Childe is not held back by the same moral qualms that Diluc is. This, mixed with the extensive network of Fatui agents at his fingertips, makes for a horrific combination. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Whether you’re aware of it or not, he’s already having people keep tabs on you. This includes people that you speak to as well. While the Fatui don’t entirely understand why they’re being asked to watch you, like hell they’re going to question a Harbinger on the bizarre orders.

You’ll be having a pleasant conversation with someone, only to feel a shadow looming over you. Then there’ll be an arm wrapped firmly around your shoulder. Childe would act dismissive of whoever you were speaking to, making up some excuse about why he needs your attention more and whisking you away. All the while looking back and giving the unfortunate individual a soul-shaking look.

He projects a lot into your conversations. Childe asks with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes if you’re trying to make him jealous. “As much as I like you -- and trust me when I say I do -- you should be careful with that.”

Anyone who makes the mistake of flirting with you gets it far worse. Childe will judge them accordingly later when being filled in on your movements for the day, sitting and listening with an eerie calm as his agents detail the person’s description. There’s a myriad of ways the Fatui could make this person’s life a living hell. From the shackles of debt tightening, harassment, to even making them disappear entirely. It all depends on Childe’s mood that day.

Childe would actually find it interesting if the person has a Vision themselves. He views it as a challenge of sorts. Malice would be oozing out of him at the thought of proving his strength to you, that no one else could come close to the claim he has. To avoid any unwanted attention, Childe would wait to strike until the person is traveling alone, channeling his Delusion alongside his Vision. It’d be an awful sight.

When he talks to you next, you’ll notice he looks oddly content. If you’re brave enough to ask why this is, he’ll give some ominous answer, that leaves your body going cold. “Hm, I really need to know. Did you think that they were any match for me? That by batting your eyelashes all prettily, you’d convince them to get rid of me? Well, whatever the case, this should be proof I’m not going anywhere.”

Childe will mention that he even was kind enough to get you a gift. A Fatui agent will reach into their bag, giving him a piece of cloth, which he then pretends to you. You’ll likely be rendered sick by the sight. It’s a torn piece of their outfit, a testimony to Childe’s victory. He’ll tilt his head and playfully ask if you don’t like it, before taking his leave for the night.

If you ever plead with him to leave the people you interact with alone, he might look like he’s giving it some thought. Childe’s suggestion of how you could convince him to do this is equally unpleasant.

“You could always spend your time with me, that way this wouldn’t be an issue. Give it some real thought. I’m looking forward to hearing your answer.”

#if this doesnt fix it ill cry probably #yandere diluc x reader #diluc x reader #diluc genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #childe x reader #childe #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #answered #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Anonymous

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hongism · 3 years

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mists of celeste ➻ 36

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 17.2k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, chapter specific warnings: talks of torture, psychological torture, mentions injuries/infections, mentions of past abuse ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act five ➻ part three

“I need to talk to Jisung. I… I have some questions about my past.”

“I’ll go with you then,” Yeosang offers without missing a beat, and he steps into your space. “That Spectre can’t be trusted enough to be alone with you. It’s bad enough that he’s being left alone right now.”

“Just yesterday you were talking about how much you hate me,” you scoff, turning away from the door to stare him in the eye. “Now you’re wanting to protect my every movement?” A huff of air passes through the man’s lips. For a moment, he refuses to look at you, and you think he’s going to choose to ignore you rather than respond to the question.

“Having Wooyoung speak to me through you put things in perspective a bit,” he admits. He drags his tongue over the front of his teeth, then shifts to face you without resistance this time. “If there is even the slightest chance that your death could negatively affect Wooyoung, I have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Don’t worry, I still hate you. I can’t stand you one bit, and I wish that I had a damn guarantee that you getting hurt wouldn’t risk Wooyoung’s safety because I could care less about looking after you on top of all this mess. Besides Wooyoung — he asked me to look after you, and my feelings about you are meaningless compared to what he wants.”

You haven’t had much of an opportunity to think about all the ways in which you and Wooyoung could be connected. While there is no guarantee that harm to you would harm him physically too, Yeosang does have a point. Just the chance is enough to be wary about. The same could be true the other way around in turn — anything they do to Wooyoung could potentially hurt you too, but there is no possible way of confirming that at this point in time. All you can do is wonder whether you will be able to see him and the others when you sleep next, should you even be able to sleep because it doesn’t sound tempting at all after what you just had to go through.

Your dragging hesitance must bother Yeosang to some degree because he huffs out another sigh and steps around you to lead the way out the door. You shift to follow him, stepping forward into the corridor only to run face-first into the Elitist’s back in less than a second. One peek around the curve of his shoulder tells you why he’s stopped so suddenly, and it’s none other than Jongho who stands before the two of you in the hall.

“Oh good, perfect timing. We need everyone to the medbay immediately,” Jongho says with a short nod, looking past Yeosang to give you a glance as well.

“Did something happen?” You ask in response.

“Hongjoong woke up, and he asked to see everyone.”

“He woke up? Why? No, no — how is he up?” Yeosang is the one to begin rambling, and he doesn’t stop there. “There were no signs of changes in his condition. I thought Yunho said it could be another several days before he woke up?”

“I don’t know either honestly.” Jongho brings a hand up to drag his fingers through his hair, pushing the locks off his forehead for a moment before they fall flat against his face again. “I came straight away the second Hongjoong gave the order. I don’t even know what the situation is quite yet.”

“Your conversation will have to wait then,” Yeosang murmurs. The two of you exchange a small nod, although you can’t say you’re too upset about having to postpone the conversation with Jisung.

“Conversation?” Yeosang steps around Jongho as the Berserker asks the question, and you are left to regard each other with confusion while Yeosang starts a path down the corridor.

“I was going to talk with Jisung about some things,” you explain, ducking your head to avoid the look Jongho gives you. It’s not one that causes any discomfort — moreso there is too much sympathy in that expression he wears, too much underlying pity that makes the pit in your gut deepen further. “Later. It’s fine, nothing pressing.”

Jongho reaches a hand out and takes hold of your elbow. The touch is delicate, probably one meant to offer some sort of comfort and nothing more, and that’s exactly what it does. Moments later, you are walking after Yeosang with a much lighter feeling swelling in your chest that you can’t pinpoint or explain.

When the three of you reach the medbay at last, Yunho stands outside the doors, hands close to his chest as he wrings them together without cease.

“Why aren’t you inside with Seonghwa?” Jongho asks upon seeing the healer.

“Hongjoong asked — he asked for a minute alone with Seonghwa.” Yunho blinks furiously as he speaks, and the motion of his hasty blinks is nearly dizzying in its frequency. “Under normal circumstances, Seonghwa would be the one to inform Hongjoong of the situation but… but Seonghwa still refused to speak even after seeing Hongjoong awake. He — what the fuck happened to the two of you during the night?”

You know the question is directed at you, but it still catches you unaware nonetheless. You can do nothing but stare back at him with wide eyes as the words process along with Yunho’s shaken-up disposition.

“I’m not sure,” you mutter. Yunho purses his lips, and a small exasperated sigh slips through, enough to show his annoyance with your answer, but Jongho steps in front of you before the healer can say anything. “I recall having a nightmare of my own but Seonghwa wasn’t there with me — I, no, that’s not — I mean he wasn’t—”

“Seonghwa had a nightmare,” Yeosang interjects, saving you from the moment of panic and from further fumbling with your words. “I managed to coax a bit out of him while you and Jongho were talking with Y/N. He had a dream that he was choking which is why he stopped breathing, and because he was so deep in the nightmare, he couldn’t wake up when Y/N tried to get him up the first time. You ended up startling him out of the nightmare and back into consciousness.” It could be a complete lie on Yeosang’s part, but it is logical and adds up in your mind to make some amount of sense. It saves your ass for certain, and that’s all you could ask for given your awkward and helpless fumbling. Yunho, however, doesn’t seem pleased with the response based on the way he shakes his head.

“That doesn’t add up,” he mutters, arms coming to fold over his chest. “Whatever he was dreaming about had to have been more traumatic than that since he had no other symptoms that lined up with other causes of shock. Trauma is the only logical option given what state he was in. Shock… it’s not just a quick jolt, it’s a critical condition brought on by a sudden drop in blood flow through the body. So trauma, heatstroke, blood loss, allergic reactions, infections, poisoning, burns, those sorts of things. His organs were not getting enough blood or oxygen, but just physically I could not see any sort of physical causes proving that. I can run some poison checks, but that truly wouldn’t make any amount of sense.”

“Even if it was something merely traumatic, what makes you think that he would ever want to talk about it with someone who always seems to want to pick him apart for every decision he’s made in life?” Yeosang levels Yunho with a glare so intense that you can almost feel the spike of tension in the air between them. “He was unresponsive with you for a reason no doubt. Maybe you shouldn’t have criticized him so much for decisions that didn’t involve you.”

“He involved me the second he started complaining about the arrangement betwe—”

“That’s enough,” Jongho cuts in, and he lifts a hand to rest atop Yunho’s arm. “Let’s not get heated right now. I can confirm that the emotional aura coming off Seonghwa’s body was something far beyond even a moderate level of trauma. Just being with Hongjoong in there is already helping some, but it will likely take some time for him to recover.”

“This is the worst possible timing,” Yunho sighs. “With tensions already high and everything… right when we need Hongjoong and Seonghwa the most, things like this have to happen?”

“Hongjoong is up now though, so that won’t be as much of an issue any longer.” Yeosang has a valid point with that one. Although without Seonghwa… you don’t want to have to think about how things would be without Seonghwa in all honesty, and it’s hard enough to even conjure up the smallest of thoughts about it. “Has anyone had eyes on Han?” Jongho is the first to deny it.

“I still feel his aura in the spare room we gave him. He didn’t budge at all during the night prior to the incident happening so I don’t think he’s behind that either.” Jongho’s words are enough to bring an unsteady silence to the four of you. There is nothing that can be said really, and you understand that better than anyone. How could you even try to explain the things you saw in your dream? You aren’t sure what you thought you would say to Jisung either; that was moreso a spur-of-the-moment decision made in a panic, and it’s probably for the better that you don’t go see him now.

“I hate this,” Yunho mutters after the silence grows unbearable. “It’s too quiet without the others here.”

“We should enact a plan soon, especially with Hongjoong up,” Yeosang says back. “Seonghwa won’t want to take a break or any recovery time, so things should be business as usual from now on. Can’t we hurry this along a bit? I doubt anyone is going back to bed soon, so talking with Hongjoong now would be best, no? Discussing plans so we can catch up to the transport ship the others are on?”

“Just a moment, yeah.” Yunho dips into the medbay. When the door slides open, you catch a glimpse of what’s inside, for better or worse. Seonghwa resides on one of the beds, the one closest to the door actually, and Hongjoong is as well, body draped over Seonghwa’s like an extension of the man, It’s not anything inappropriate, nor does it seem to be in the way the smaller captain straddles his hips and clings to his lieutenant like his life depends on it.

Looking at them like this — something close, intimate, calm, peaceful almost — you nearly feel as though you shouldn’t be present. It’s a crawling sensation that spreads to your stomach and chest, eyes trailing over the places where one man meets the other, and if not for looking so intently at the scene before you, you would miss the hefty tear tracks over Seonghwa’s cheeks. One of Hongjoong’s hands curls through Seonghwa’s hair as the other wraps tightly around one of the lieutenant’s.

Hongjoong pulls his hand down from the other man’s head, brushing over the tear-stricken skin of his cheek. He is clearly looking down at the man but Seonghwa doesn’t look back. Instead, he keeps his eyes shut tight with a few tears spilling out the corners. And in the back of your mind, you barely process how much you hate seeing Seonghwa in such a state, broken and crying without relent, and you hate how you seem to be just fine in comparison to him. The two of you were in the same place, suffering the same fate of being put through nightmares, and yet you came out of it because Wooyoung saved you. Did Seonghwa have anyone there to save him?

It is pointless to think of that now, but it’s all that is on your mind as you watch Hongjoong’s lips move with haste, muttering words that must be meant to comfort under his breath. You are too far away to hear it all clearly, although a few words slip in here and there.

“You’re okay… here… we’re here… together, okay? It wasn’t real… trust… I’m here.”

Yunho clears his throat when Hongjoong still doesn’t pull his attention away from Seonghwa, but even that announcement doesn’t cause the captain to budge even a little bit. Instead, he continues his hushed whispers for a few more moments then lifts the hand that is still tangled with Seonghwa’s in a pausing motion.

“We’ll talk more about it later, yeah?” He murmurs a bit louder as he pulls back to glance over in Yunho’s direction. His gaze slips past the healer’s should to find you in an instant, and you duck your chin in a panic, eyes finding the floor. It’s the feeling of being caught doing something you shouldn’t or watching something you shouldn’t be watching, and seeing Hongjoong atop Seonghwa in such a way is the cause of that. Perhaps he expects you to be jealous and scowl at him, and perhaps that is exactly what you are supposed to feel, but frankly… it doesn’t make you envious in the slightest. You moreso feel content at the sight of them holding each other so closely, like Seonghwa is finally at peace with Hongjoong in his grasp and awake. Hongjoong is finally up, can finally comfort him, and Seonghwa can finally rest easier. Why would you ever want to take that away from him?

The sight of them so closely linked, however, brings up a fleeting memory from your foray in the Dreamscape.

“To think that at the time, my worst nightmare was merely existing.”

“And now?”

“Not being able to save Hongjoong from himself.”

Albeit briefly, you wonder if that might be what Seonghwa saw once the two of you were separated. Even moreso than that though, the more pressing worry on your mind is just how deep Hongjoong’s demons run for Seonghwa to be so concerned that it has become his worst nightmare. You don’t have any more time to think about it as Hongjoong slips off of Seonghwa’s body and props himself on the edge of the bed. Seonghwa moves to sit up as well only to have Hongjoong’s hand slap down on his chest and shove him back to the bed with little effort. They don’t exchange any words, but they don’t need to either with the way one corner of Hongjoong’s lips quirks up in a half-smile as he blinks down at his lieutenant. Perhaps Vladimir had a point in the backhanded comment he made in the arena — when you see the way Hongjoong gazes at Seonghwa, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen or experienced before, like Seonghwa could do no wrong in the captain’s eyes, and like he’s the most precious creature in existence. Hongjoong slips his hand down to the inside of Seonghwa’s thigh, resting his fingers against the fabric of his pants just above the knee. It’s nothing… lewd or suggestive, nor does Seonghwa seem to take it as such, moreso a touch of comfort and nothing more.

“Well, are you all going to get in here or not?” Hongjoong leans to look past Yunho’s shoulder, regarding the rest of you with a stare that is enough to cause you to step inside. Yeosang does the same and comes in behind you, but Jongho doesn’t budge even an inch. Instead, he stays in the corridor with arms crossed over his chest and eyes darting down the hall every so often like he’s expecting Jisung to come bursting out at any second. Hongjoong waits but you have a growing suspicion that he’s not waiting for Jongho to come in necessarily. “I asked for the whole crew, Yunho. Where are the others?”

Does he not… did no one tell him of the situation?

Yunho inhales sharply but doesn’t manage to do anything more than that, teeth sinking into his lower lip. Yeosang, however, doesn’t let any silence drape over the room in the aftermath of Hongjoong’s question. He takes the initiative and steps forward with an expression so flat and even that you nearly believe nothing is wrong in the slightest.

“During the mission at the arena, Mingi, San, and Wooyoung were all taken captive and are currently missing in action. Vladimir was used as an instrument to get the ball rolling, but someone else is behind the incident. The three are aboard a transport vessel that is on its way to Dorado, where Mingi will be sent to a recreational facility to reprogram him back into the Brute of Kebos. San and Wooyoung were not the initial targets, so their fates and what will happen to them are currently unknown. We — we have someone aboard who is acting as a mole for us and gaining information from Vladimir, Han Jisung. He’s also eavesdropped on several meetings to get information about the transport vessel and the plans.

“Oh, I know that part,” Hongjoong hisses through gritted teeth. A flash of panic crosses Yeosang’s gaze for a split second, and the two of you seem to instinctively share in that panic by looking towards each other.

“H-How?” Yunho stammers.

“Why do you think I’m even up in the first place? A certain Han Jisung came in here and woke me up.” Seonghwa sits up without hesitation and latches a hand around Hongjoong’s shoulder. The captain doesn’t even have time to react before both Yeosang and Yunho are suddenly stepping closer to the bed and into his personal space as well. Your first instinct, on the other hand, is to twist at the waist and look towards where Jongho stands in the hallway.

“Did you sense anything? I thought you said he was in his room this whole time.”

“I… No, I truly didn’t sense anything. It must have been during the commotion in Seonghwa’s room. That—” the Berserker cuts himself short there, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he finishes the thought “—that was the only time I didn’t think to check for his heat signature. By the time I was certain the crisis was averted, Jisung must have gotten back to his room.”

Hongjoong shrugs Seonghwa’s touch off as best he can before pushes the man back to the bed with another gentle touch.

“Don’t worry. He didn’t lay a finger on me.” Even though the words are clearly directed at Seonghwa, they hold weight over Yeosang and Yunho as well, bringing both men a few steps back from the bed. “Han Jisung is the one you should worry about.”

And as much as you despise it and wish your brain did not catapult in that direction, you cannot stop the twinge of panic that surges through your veins. It must be strong enough to pique Seonghwa’s interest because however hard you try to conceal the emotion on your face, you cannot keep the Siren from sending a worried glance your way. You don’t wish to care for Jisung still, you wish you could just bury that part of yourself and focus on something else instead — something like Hyunwoo, who deserves more than what you gave him, but your mind clings to Jisung like a parasite. You aren’t sure it will ever let up.

“I left him with several pretty threats that were enough to deter him from doing anything foolish. But he in turn informed me of the situation from his perspective. I merely wanted to hear from you all to make certain he was telling the truth. So thank you, Yeosang, for sharing the information better than this Jisung character did. Although, he did tell me what they intend to do with Wooyoung and San. Wooyoung is set to be sold to the House of Lilies in the Upper Echelon of the capital, Lynder.”

“What the hell is the House of Lilies?” The name itself leaves little to the imagination, but you can’t exactly blame Yeosang for needing the verbal confirmation. This time it isn’t Hongjoong who answers, though, and for what seems to be the first time since waking up, Seonghwa opens his mouth to speak.

“It’s… a whorehouse for the top class of Lynder, typically only used by the military and head councilmen of the city.”

“It’s a fucking what?”

If they’re putting Wooyoung in a place like that, then you don’t want to imagine where they would put San.

“San. Wh-what about San? Do they plan to do the same to him or—”

“No, they have different plans for him,” Hongjoong interjects, cutting your thought into a silent breath of relief. “He’s slated to be put through regression therapy and built into the perfect assassin. After that, he’ll go into the military in the Upper Echelon of the capital. He and Mingi will be put in the same facility for their treatments, but Wooyoung’s deal is supposedly more immediate.”

“Regression therapy? That’s the worse possible treatment San could ever receive!” You don’t really need to hear the panic in Yunho’s tone right now; it only makes the gravity of the situation weigh heavier on your shoulders. If you could sink through the floor and disappear from existence entirely, that would be preferred, but alas, no matter how much you wish for it, you’re stuck in place. “That could undo every ounce of progress he’s made over the years! All that — everything, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong’s tongue flicks out for a second, stabbing the corner of his lips harshly before retreating back into his mouth. He presses his lips into a thin line after that and refuses to respond to Yunho’s words.

Regression therapy. You’d heard of it during your stint with the military, a thing that was merely used as a threat for rowdy and unruly recruits who refused to do as asked. Only a threat because of how awfully traumatic it could be and how inhumane the public thought such a treatment to be. But the point was not to be humane then.

“They’d… use regression therapy to undo all that progress for a reason,” you murmur. The heat of five stares hits your body, and it’s almost overwhelming for a moment but you push forward to finish the thought. “Breaking him down into the husk he used to be is only part of the process. Once he’s put in the military, they’ll just wipe him of it either way, but to seem like they’re doing it consensually, they have to get him to go in there by choice. That’s how things worked on Eros. They threatened to bring back memories from before the wipe if you stepped too far out of line. They’ll break him, turn him into what he used to be, make him as deprived and desperate for even an ounce of freedom, then offer to take it all away.”

You don’t realize how hard you are gripping the inside of your right elbow until the pressure stings, but the moment you release your arm, that temporary grip on reality slips away and you fall into a vague flashback.

“Things will be okay, Y/N, I promise. It’s gonna be okay.”

Hyunwoo is the one to speak to you. Your attempts to reach out and grab him are futile as you quickly find that you are strapped to a cool metal chair that practically burns your skin. Hyunwoo reaches down, lips twisting into a soft pained smile, and he takes one of your hands in his own.

“It’ll only hurt a little bit. We won’t take much, just enough for them not to be able to track it back to you. If you don’t know then they won’t be able to pin the blame on you, and you’ll be safe. So we’ll only take what we need to, okay?”

“I-I don’t know who ‘they’ is.”

“You won’t need to know after this. Jisung is prepping the serum now.”

“I — Hyunwoo, I didn’t even get to say goodbye!”

“I’m sorry. This was the only way I could save you all. Maybe one day you will get to see each other again, and you can tell him the truth. And he can tell you the truth.”

“What fucking truth? You can’t do this now of all times, Hyunwoo! It isn’t the time to be cryptic and mysterious!”

“You’ll understand one day, Y/N. I promise.”

You pull yourself out of the flashback there, mostly because you’re so startled and confused as to why that memory slipped in. You were certain that you shared that conversation with Hyunwoo just before he walked to his death, not strapped to a chair with him saying such startling things.

“You’re right,” Hongjoong mutters, tugging you back to reality so harshly that you flinch. “Once they get on Dorado and conduct Wooyoung’s deal, they’ll separate Mingi and San. Probably place them in separate rooms: San to an isolation chamber, a large one no doubt. Mingi will most likely be placed in a much smaller one that will resemble the underbelly of the arena he grew up in.” Hongjoong pauses his thoughts there and shakes his head. “Han Jisung seems to know far too much about these plans and exactly what is going on. Why isn’t he tied to a chair in the brig right now?” Seonghwa opens his mouth to reply only to have Hongjoong wave his hand and dismiss the question entirely. “That isn’t important right now. What’s important is that we must keep any and all information found from henceforth away from Han Jisung. No plans, no musings, nothing whatsoever. That all stays between us as we cannot trust Jisung no matter what. I would rather keep a gun stuck to the back of that man’s head at all times than risk failure at this. Emergency rescue and recovery mission. We’ll talk further over the details soon. It’s best to get more rest now though.”

“I’d like to run some sleep tests anyways,” Yunho chimes in, and he turns to you before you have a chance to duck out of it. “Both you and Seonghwa. Don’t think I’d let you get out of it. Please just let me run a few tests, if anything only to make sure you’re okay.”

“Fine,” you mutter. Yunho doesn’t wait for you to follow him as he leads the way to another bed further down in the medbay. Sleep is the last thing on your mind right now, but you don’t have much of a choice as the healer sits you down and starts pulling wires and electrodes out. Hongjoong continues to talk to Yeosang a bit more, no doubt to decide on what to do moving forward.

“I’ll be hooking you up to a telemetry machine. It’s just to monitor your heart and see if there are any irregular happenings during the night. I’ll use it mostly to make sure it’s all beating properly and such while you’re asleep, but I’ll also place some sensors on and around your scalp, temples, chest, and legs, along with a small clip on your finger to monitor the oxygen in your blood. I’ll be here the whole night monitoring you both if any issues arise, yeah?”

“Okay.” You don’t make any efforts to hide the slight exasperation in your tone, and Yunho has the decency to at least pick up on that as he connects more of those sensors to your skin.

“I’m… I’m really sorry, you know. It’s — I know I have a lot to be sorry for and this one shitty apology won’t do much, but I am genuinely sorry,” he murmurs quiet enough for just the two of you to hear. “For all the ways in which I have been immature and hurtful. I did not act as a responsible or good doctor shoulder, but also from a deeper standpoint, I didn’t act as a friend should either, so I’m sorry for that as well. I want to do better and fix those mistakes but I don’t know how to right now. With all the stress we are under right now, I don’t want to risk making things worse by any means but... I can promise that I’ll try to do better.”

“I’m not petty like that,” you huff in reply. “Just you admitting that you did wrong and want to do better is enough for me. Just trying is enough. Maybe… try not to be a defensive asshole next time?” You dare to look up at the tall man’s face to gauge his reaction and are pleasantly surprised to be greeted with a smile.

“My goal is to avoid doing that again, yeah,” he laughs. His grin falls within a second, however, and he next brushes a hand over your hair with a small frown painting his thin lips. “You really gave us a scare. Hearing you call us for help only to go in and find you unconscious on the floor? We thought Jisung had gone in there and attacked you both. It was something out of a horror novel.”

You turn away as heat rises on your cheeks, and the only thing you can do to cover your embarrassment is cough awkwardly.

“I-I must have been so stressed and tired that I passed out right after.” That isn’t wholly a lie seeing as that’s what happened to Wooyoung according to Yeosang. Still, that begs a more pressing concern of what exactly happened on Wooyoung’s side of things for him to leave so suddenly. Perhaps the only good thing that could come out of this sleep test Yunho wants so desperately is the possibility of checking on Wooyoung and the others.

“You’re all set up now. You shouldn’t notice a thing unless we run into any issues, but again, I’ll be here to monitor throughout the night, and I’ll write up the scans in the morning.” Yunho pulls back with a smile.

“Thank you,” you mutter, settling back onto the creaky bed without further ado, but you know that sleep won’t come any time soon. So instead, you resort to watching Yunho make his way over to Seonghwa’s bed and repeat the same process he just did with you on the lieutenant. Yeosang dipped out of the medbay at some point apparently because he no longer stands before Hongjoong at the foot of the bed, and Jongho must have gone with him because the doors are now snapped shut. Hongjoong has his fingers curled tight around Seonghwa’s again, and once again that sense of distant longing seems to fall over the captain. He remains silent as he watches Yunho attach pads and wires to Seonghwa’s body. The feeling that next creeps over you isn’t one of jealousy or envy.

Your mind conjures up the image of San sitting at the foot of your bed like Hongjoong does with Seonghwa. San reaching a hand out to take hold of yours as he blinks down at you with concern. San brushing your hair out of your face and murmuring soft encouragements to you. Cat-like eyes and a dimpled grin gleaming above you like a whisper of hope.

It’s a painful reminder of reality: how San isn’t here and can’t be either. It’s a painful reminder that causes the corners of your eyes to sting against your will, emotions welling up so strongly in your chest that you double over to alleviate some of the pain there.

When you dare to look back at the bed, Yunho has walked around the side of the cot to stand before Hongjoong. Hongjoong’s free hand moves up to rest on the dip of Yunho’s hip, falling down to the top of his thigh for a fraction of a second then finding purchase on the mattress once more. Yunho pulls a stool forward and seats himself before the captain.

“I need to do a few more routine checkups on you too, just to make sure you’re okay since you didn’t rest as long as your body wanted. Eyes okay?”

“I can see you just fine if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Any pain in your ears? Ringing? The vibrations from the bomb will have shaken you up quite a bit.”

“No ringing, no pain.”

Yunho lifts a hand and rests it against Hongjoong’s forehead, pushing the blue strands up to lay his hand flat there.

“No fever either, that’s good. How does your throat feel? Your body should have purged the majority of the dust and smoke you inhaled by now, but I’m worried your throat might still be scratched up from it.”

“A little sore but nothing unbearable,” Hongjoong hums. He tilts his head from side to side as Yunho continues to worry over him but other than that, he seems entirely unbothered by the healer’s fretting.

“Ribs hurting at all? And your right hip?”

“Ribs feel okay, hip hurts like a bitch.”

“Yeah because you aren’t supposed to be moving around with a fracture of that degree.”

“I moved less than six feet.”

“You’ll move six feet under if you aren’t careful.”

“Because of the injury or because you’ll put me there for not listening to you?”

“I’m gonna write off that attitude as the concussion talking because I know you aren’t dumb enough to argue with me on this.”

“Head is fine too.”

“Then let me call Jongho back to help you get to your room. You can’t be walking that far on your own and—”

“I need to talk with Seonghwa a bit more first,” Hongjoong interjects, head falling in Seonghwa’s direction. Yunho cuts off with a small ‘o’, and his gaze flits over to where you’re reclining against the pillows of the bed. Hongjoong seems to pick up on that without prompting though. “She can stay in here, it’s fine. I doubt it’ll take longer than a half-hour, if you don’t mind waiting outside that long?”

Yunho pushes back on his stool, slipping away from the bedside. If not for looking so intently at the man, you would have missed the way his hands curl into tight fists against his thighs, but he doesn’t voice whatever is on his mind.

“Right, don’t take too long though; I know you’ve been resting a while but your body still needs to recover before you try to do anything drastic, and knowing you, that’s exactly what you plan to do as soon as you can. Y/N, Seonghwa — you two get some rest soon. I’ll be back to monitor in a bit.”

You don’t wait to watch Yunho leave the room because it doesn’t feel needed, but at the same time, you are trying your best to avoid any eye contact with Seonghwa or Hongjoong as not to intrude on whatever conversation they intend to have. You hear the soft click of the door and its scraping metal as it slides open, then a repeat of the same sound when Yunho steps out. The silence that falls over the room is so thick it could choke you. Hongjoong shifts on the bed again and scoots closer to Seonghwa’s head, a series of creaks following the movements. You crack an eye open to peek over at the pair. Hongjoong doesn’t lie down beside Seonghwa or anything, just sits there with a hand still wrapped around the other’s, and other than that neither move or speak. It’s only after the silence drags on for several minutes that Hongjoong decides he’s had enough and speaks once more.

“Do you want to talk more about it?”

“We should talk about the plan more first. If Jin is truly behind this, then we need something more… just something more.”

“He’s not. It can’t possibly be him behind this because he would have targeted you rather than going after Y/N. I don’t think he has anything to do with this, nor do I think he would stoop to kidnapping to get what he wants.”

“We are down three crewmembers and have an untrustworthy rat aboard,” Seonghwa hisses without missing a beat. “Jin could very well have eyes and ears on us and know how weak we are right now. You might be able to excuse him, but I know for a fact that kidnapping is not the lowest he would stoop to get what he wants. And I will not jeopardize your goals by being captured by him.”

Hongjoong extends his free hand to cup Seonghwa’s cheek, brushing over the smooth expanse of skin there with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t believe that would ever happen. He would sooner have to kill me than capture you.”

“I’m… yeah, sorry, I’m simply worried. We’re headed to Dorado after all. Lynder of all places on that godforsaken planet too.”

“Why are you worried, hm? We shouldn’t be going anywhere near the Lower Echelon.” Seonghwa responds with a sharp shake of his head.

“Mother moved up to the Upper Echelon, remember? Three years back?”

“Are you calling me forgetful then?”

“You’ve always been forgetful, and you know it. You wouldn’t need me around if you could remember things.” That comment earns Seonghwa a smack to the shoulder, but you hear the huff of a laugh fall from Hongjoong’s lips before the lieutenant continues speaking. “The risking of seeing Mother is so high.”

“Are you… still afraid of her?” The question is hesitant in the same way that one would walk around a wild boar, like Hongjoong is afraid to set Seonghwa off in some way with the small question. “Hwa, you’re trembling. Is it too cold in here? I can get you an extra blanket if you—”

“No, no, shush, I’m not cold. I’m n-not afraid of her, I… I don’t want to be afraid of her, but in all those fucking nightmares, all I could see was red. I wanted blood, I wanted to kill, I wanted my hands around her throat so I could strangle her. And in all those dreams, that little voice won.” Seonghwa pauses and lifts a hand to touch Hongjoong’s cheek now, reflecting the other man’s actions from earlier. “I fear seeing the crew fall apart and not being able to save you from yourself more than anything else. Yet in those dreams, it was me who unmade each of them and ruined you. I’m… afraid of going to Dorado and not being able to hold back. I’m scared of killing Mother in a fit of rage and letting the Lieutenant of Death take over. I’m so afraid of hurting anyone on the crew, and I’m so fearful that I’ll bring ruin to you. I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself if that happens.”

Hongjoong’s hand comes down hard on Seonghwa's chin, gripping the skin and bone between lithe fingers, and he forces the man to look him in the eye.

“I won't let that happen. There is no way in hell I would ever let that happen. Even if I have to pry you off your own mother, I will make absolutely sure that that voice doesn't win, that those people who make up those rumors and disdain you so much don't win. I won't let you do anything you regret, Seonghwa.”

“Ha, as though you can promise such a thing,” Seonghwa mutters through a bitter laugh.

“I know. I can't promise much of anything, but I can give you my word and hope. That's enough for now. If all I have to offer you is one more day of hope, then I will continue to give you that for all eternity.”

The shorter man leans over the space between their bodies and presses his lips to Seonghwa's forehead, parting the hair that lies flat there to touch his skin.

“Don’t you ever regret letting me join the crew?”

“When it comes to you, I don’t think the word regret exists.”

It’s spoken with such a raw conviction that you feel your own throat closing up around itself. As your gaze falls over Seonghwa, you can clearly see the way the words affect him, from the way his lips part in wonder as he stares up at the man above him like he hung every star in his universe in the sky. Words fail him, but that doesn’t bother Hongjoong one bit as the captain tries to leave him with one more soft-spoken comment.

“Get some rest.”

He moves to get up and pull away from the bed, but Seonghwa's grip on his hand pulls him right back.

“Please don't go. I... I have both of you here with me for once. Please don't deprive me of this right now. Not when I've gone this long without you.”

“Whatever you wish, Hwa.” Hongjoong doesn’t fight back as Seonghwa tugs him down to his side, resting his head against his lieutenant’s chest once their bodies are pressed close. You don’t know if they’ve fallen asleep — the lights are still on in the medbay so it would be hard to fall asleep anyways — but you rest in the quiet with clouded and foggy thoughts. Twisting to the side, you turn to face the wall rather than look at that vulnerable scene any longer than you have to. You wish that could be the end of it, that the dismal conversations ended there with the two of them going to sleep, but Seonghwa’s tone rising up again in the silence disrupts that hope too.

“How much longer do we have to keep doing this? I get more and more tired with each day that passes.” Hongjoong hums a bit, and his next words come out rather slurred.

“I’m tired too. We’ll rest soon.”

“Aren’t we too young to be feeling this old?” There’s some humor to those words, but what Seonghwa says next eradicates that levity in an instant. “Jongho offered to take it away for me. Jongho, our youngest. He shouldn’t even have to think about taking our burdens.”

“That’s not the world we live in,” Hongjoong sighs. “That’s not a luxury we can afford. There is no normalcy. We don’t have and never will have any sort of normal family.”

“Family? Is that what this is now? The one you talked of wanting to find?”

“Yes… of course, this crew is our family without a doubt. One day when this is all said and done, we can settle down somewhere.”

“But?”

“But can we ever really be happy and content with settling down? I’ve been flying around space since I was born and as long as I can remember. Suddenly not doing that would be odd, wouldn’t it?”

Seonghwa laughs a clear and ringing sound, then seems to catch how loud the noise is and quiets himself to a softer chuckle.

“Then you can fly around space for all eternity if that’s what makes you happy.”

The bed creaks under someone’s movement, and you can only assume that it’s Hongjoong simply because he’s the next one to speak.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Keep doing what?” Seonghwa echoes softly.

“Every time we have this conversation and every time we talk of the future, you talk about it as though you won’t be there for it. Like you won’t see that future with me.”

“Stop saying foolish things, Hongjoong. We should be sleeping.”

“Seonghwa.” This time, Hongjoong’s tone is different. It’s something you’ve never heard from the man: a fragile sound that is on the verge of breaking and one that holds unspoken warning to it.

“Sleep, Hongjoong.”

“Seonghwa.”

That’s your breaking point. It’s too much for you to handle, the tone of their conversation has taken a drastic turn and you don’t want to hear anything else out of either of them simply out of fear. Even though you aren’t tired, you squeeze your eyes shut and internally beg for Wooyoung to let you in tonight.

…

As it turns out, you get your wish. You come to in Wooyoung’s body with a jolt and a gasp, although that sound goes unnoticed because Wooyoung yet again has full control over his body while you are left to sit back and watch through his eyes. The cell you wake up to is starkly different than the last; it’s much larger and brighter, fluorescent lights hanging on the ceiling, but that isn’t what draws your attention. No, the wall that consists only of thick metal bars and rings with the crackles of electricity garners all your attention first simply because of how loud the noise is but also because Wooyoung’s eyes seem to instinctively flit over the bars before turning further left. They are, thankfully, no longer chained to the floor like dogs and now seem to only have wrist and ankle shackles. It’s a significant step up from their last prison, and when Wooyoung finally pushes himself to his feet, you catch sight of Mingi resting on a small cot.

Wooyoung steps over to the Berserker without hesitation, hand dipping into a small bucket that’s full of icy water, and he pulls a rag from the liquid, wringing it a few times before laying the cloth atop Mingi’s head.

“How are you feeling?” Wooyoung asks. Mingi murmurs something in response, but it’s largely unintelligible, and Wooyoung must not pick up on it either because he strains his neck to get closer to the man. “Hm?”

“A b-bit better.”

“That’s g—”

A sharp rattle interrupts Wooyoung’s train of thought, and he jerks to look over at the shock wall. The door at the center swings open without warning, two men stepping through with someone hanging rather limply between their arms. If your heart could plummet right now, it truly would, because you would recognize that patch of white hair anywhere. The two men — guards from the looks of it — shove San into the cell, not caring to be mindful of the sides of the bars before pushing him against them without warning. San’s shoulder knocks roughly into the edge of the fencing as he comes through, and a bolt of shock sears through his body with surprising haste. The force brings him to his knees. Wooyoung lurches forward, darting out to grab hold of his shoulders and keep him somewhat upright.

“Be fucking careful! Are you paid to be idiots?” He shouts as he pulls San closer to his body. The stockier of the two guards sneers back at him.

“You’re next, slave. Watch yourself.”

Wooyoung responds by hurling a glob of spit at the guard’s feet, eyes narrowed to slits.

“You can take me once I’ve seen to my crewmates.” That comment earns him a sharp smack to the side of his head. San curls his fingers tight around Wooyoung’s side.

“Don’t make a scene about it, I’m fine,” he murmurs under his breath. He is far from fine, that much is obvious, because he can’t keep his body upright and his cheek keeps slumping down against Wooyoung’s shoulder no matter how much he tries to keep it up. The stout guard steps closer, arm poised to deliver another blow to Wooyoung, but he’s caught by his taller friend, who grabs him by the wrist before he can do anything else.

“They all need to make it to Dorado relatively unharmed or prices will down and we’ll get less of the cut from Boss.” That’s enough to pull the man away from Wooyoung, and he retreats back to the outside of the cell with his partner.

“You have ten minutes. Five if you make any other snippy remarks.”

Wooyoung exhales a small sigh of relief when the door slams back shut. He helps tug San to his feet and guides him to the bed beside Mingi’s. You’re grateful that Wooyoung won’t take his gaze off him because it gives you a chance to fully examine his current state.

The bruising on his face has gone down quite a bit, and just from that alone, you would say he almost looks okay. Still, his body reeks of exhaustion, and he clutches the shoulder that knocked into the shock wall even as Wooyoung eases him down to the cot. His dark circles are so deep that they almost seem to hollow his face, and you have an instinct to comb your fingers through his hair if you could because it’s a mess and so unkempt that you can barely see the white patch in the front. Wooyoung keeps pushing him down until San lies flat on the bed, and he doesn’t hesitate to peel San’s shirt up to his midsection. It exposes the awful bruising underneath, a colorful array of blues and purples that are ugly to look at.

“They’re gonna snap your ribs in two if they aren’t careful,” Wooyoung grumbles, tracing over the outline of the bruise with his index finger. “It’s already damaged enough.” San chokes out a laugh that has to hurt.

“That’s only the half of it. They could be doing a lot worse. At the very least, they don’t know shit about torturing people. I’ve been through worse and... and seen a lot worse in the past.” San’s hand darts down to the dip of his hip, where there’s a thin scar just by the bone. You recognize it in an instant — the place where Cara stabbed him back on Echidna and left him nearly dead. “They’ll have to work a lot harder to get anything out of me. They don’t like how quiet I am.”

“That doesn’t mean they really should work harder. You won’t survive that much. Did you manage to get anything out of them this time?”

San shakes his head at first then grips the front of Wooyoung’s shirt and pulls him closer.

“They were fumbling a little when I asked what the plans are. Mean one — shorty — he tried to shut me up but the other started asking questions too. Said he was just as confused and didn’t know what the boss plans to do with the two of us. They know exactly what would happen with Mingi but had way too many doubts when it came to us. They had to have wanted someone else. Maybe Scourge since he was in the arena with Mingi?” Hearing San call Hongjoong by that name sounds so foreign and stilted, but you know it’s just a way to protect as much of their identities as possible. Wooyoung draws his lips together.

“That doesn’t sound right. They would have had a clear path to both Mingi and Captain in the arena. Why wouldn’t they grab him then? When… when they take me, I’ll try to get more out of them. Clean — if you can, please clean Mingi’s wound again. The infection is almost fully fleshed out and his fever will break soon, but without anything to sew it up, he can easily get a worse infection if we aren’t careful.”

“Should it be gone within the next two days?”

“That’s up to his body and how it reacts to the rest of this process. Why?”

“I heard them say that we’ll be landing on Dorado in three days,” San mutters. He glances over at Mingi’s reclining body, teeth sinking into his lower lip. “If he’s well enough within two, then maybe we can work out a breakout plan.” Wooyoung glances between the Spectre and Mingi without reacting for a few moments then gives a small nod.

“We’ll talk about it more later. I’ll try to get more information in the meantime.” Wooyoung moves to step away from the bed, but San keeps him in place, fingers curling around the hem of Wooyoung’s shirt.

“Just — please at least cooperate a little bit. You don’t have to tell them shit, but don’t put yourself in danger simply out of pride.”

“I won’t.”

That is what Wooyoung says, at least, but his next action is surely one out of either sheer stupidity or an obscene amount of pride. He steps over to the shock wall and raises a clenched fist to the metal. Without a drop of hesitation and without flinching in the slightest, he raps his knuckles against the metal as though it’s nothing. You would think it’s nothing too if not for the waves of electricity that cascade through his body and in turn, yours. If it were you, you would pull back thanks to the shock, but Wooyoung doesn’t and only wraps his hand around the bars.

“You gonna come get me or not?”

“Fucking brat,” the shorter guard mutters, but he does exactly what Wooyoung wants and approaches the fencing to let him out.

“Try harder on the fences,” Wooyoung remarks, daring to drag his tongue over the front of his bottom row of teeth — a show of smugness that drives the guard mad.

“It’s not meant to incapacitate you, simply to keep little brats like you in check.”

“That was meant to keep me in check? Come on, that little shock didn’t even make me flinch in the slightest.” That comment isn’t what gets Wooyoung smacked upside the head; rather, it’s the huff of laughter that falls from his lips right after that causes the first guard to elbow him in the back of the head.

“Get walking, fucker.”

“When you gonna let me see the big boss?” Wooyoung grumbles as the pair sandwiches him between their bodies.

“He’s not around to have any meetings, especially not with the like of you. Busy with work of his own right now. But maybe one day you’ll mess up enough to get a meeting with the lieutenant thought.”

“What? This disordered bunch of scoundrels has a lieutenant?” Yet again that draws the ire of the stockier guard, and the man slams the butt of his gun into Wooyoung’s stomach. The impact is enough to cause Wooyoung to hunch over, bound hands grabbing the other guard’s thigh for support. The force careens both into the wall on accident, but Wooyoung doesn’t stop there. He fumbles around until his hand slips into the man’s pocket. Cool plastic greets him, something flat and rectangular, and Wooyoung latches onto both that and something else that feels vaguely like metal before pulling his hand out the pocket.

“Stay up, you rat,” the taller hisses. When he knocks his shoulder into Wooyoung’s, Wooyoung lets his hand fall near his own pocket, pushing both items he just lifted into the fabric. You can’t be sure that he knows what he’s just taken or that he has any sort of plan for if he gets caught with the stolen items. He doesn’t let anything slip through his expression though and simply rights himself when the shorter of the pair nudges him forward, continuing to follow them through the narrow corridor. The longer you walk, the more the interior and layout of the ship become familiar to you — from the dark grey walls to the solid doors with no peepholes. Your growing suspicions come to a grinding halt of realization when Wooyoung is shoved into a dark room that has one yellow-tinted light hanging from the ceiling. It sits directly above a reclining chair, and that’s a sight you would recognize anywhere. From the straps on the side down to the flat metal headrest — they must be aboard a military ship, or at least a former one given the pirate crew running it currently. But that chair and this room resemble the one you had your memories wiped in with an uncanny certainty.

Wooyoung doesn’t have a chance to resist before the two guards are shoving him further in and pushing him down onto the chair. Rough leather straps wrap tight around his torso and legs, then two more for each ankle and wrist once the first ones are secured. That, however, is all the men do for the time being. It seems to shock Wooyoung as much as it shocks you because he shifts to watch them as they walk over to the side of the room and lean up against the wall.

“Aren’t you going to do anything else?”

“Be patient.”

Wooyoung squints. His wrists twist a bit in the restraints, testing the tautness of the material, and when it doesn’t give any budge, he jerks harder against them. Two clear and mocking laughs resound in response. Someone comes up on Wooyoung’s left, one of the guards moving without warning to lean over Wooyoung’s body.

“We’ll do a few tester questions just to see how willing you are to talk, how about that? So… who do you work for?”

“Go fuck yourself, how about that?”

“Oh come on, you’re a slave, aren’t you? Why be loyal to a cruel master? Can’t you answer one simple question?” The guard reaches down to toy with the collar around Wooyoung’s neck. In an instant, every muscle in his body seizes up, and Wooyoung goes so far as to stop breathing entirely with the barely brush of contact. The pirate doesn’t stop there, though, and he slips a finger under the metal collar to touch the skin underneath. Pressure invades your head, like someone is grabbing your skull between their hands and squeezing with an obscene amount of force. Wooyoung thrashes and tries to jerk away from the contact, but the guard just loops his finger under the metal and maintains that same level of contact. Your head — or Wooyoung’s rather — begins to tingle and throb, ears ringing loudly with white noise as something else creeps up on you.

Please!

If you had any ounce of control over Wooyoung’s body, you would jerk your head to find the source of the sound, but as it continues, you realize that it’s not real. Not something that is truly resonating around you in the room right now. The voice is too young, too child-like, just a wailing noise that repeats over and over again without cease. A constant prayer of ‘please’ that fades into the background when the guard above Wooyoung speaks again.

“Now who do you work for?”

Please.

“Why the fuck do you want to know?” Wooyoung grits out. “I have nothing to gain from speaking to you about anything.”

Please, please, please.

Finally, the hand slips away, and Wooyoung gasps for breath like he’s never had air in his lungs before. His head lolls to the side almost the same way a ragdoll’s would as a sharp slap echoes. Pain sears over your skin, resonating through Wooyoung’s body to burn you too.

“This is why you’re going to the whorehouse. They can shut you up permanently with other things.”

“That kind of threat won’t work on me,” Wooyoung manages to murmur. His eyes roll back in his head as he slumps back into the metal headrest, chest still heaving to bring in air. “I’m not gonna tell you anything. If your boss w-wants info so badly… he can come take it himself. What’s the point of this anyway? Bring me to a room and ask me pointless questions? You already said you aren’t allowed to hurt the ‘goods’ too badly. And if I’m slated to go to a whorehouse — messing any physical features up would lower your cut dramatically. But the boss probably doesn’t pay you to be smart, huh?”

Red flashes through your vision then a fist careens into Wooyoung’s nose so hard that you’re certain it’s cracked in two. Warmth trickles down his nostrils and trickles into his mouth, leaving the taste of blood on the back of your tongue. The second man in the room pulls forward. He grabs his partner by the arm and tugs him away from Wooyoung as best he can before taking up the same position over Wooyoung’s reclining form.

“Listen here, slave, I really don’t want to be cruel to you, but there are ways to make you talk, ways that won’t… damage the goods as you say and will instead mess up that pretty little head of yours, so let’s just cooperate while you can, yeah?”

A sneer tears through Wooyoung’s lips, but he doesn’t fight back any longer, letting his head drop back to the headrest without complaint.

“You know who I work for already so I don’t need to tell you shit.”

The shorter of the two guards takes another step towards the chair.

“That may be the case, yes, but we aren’t after your captain. We need information on someone else… someone who was seen with you in the streets outside the arena. Someone you seemed to be close to based on the way you were protecting her, and someone who looked an awful lot like the Ghost of Eros.”

You can feel the way Wooyoung’s eyes widen. The same shock that courses through his veins rushes through your own as well. His tongue darts out to moisten his lower lip, dragging over the dry and cracking skin until it stings. He tries his best to hide that shock, but it’s too late, and the guards have already seen the flashes of recognition across Wooyoung’s features.

“So you know Miss Y/N then?”

“Yeah, we’re closer than you might think…” Wooyoung mutters, glancing off to the side and avoiding their prodding stares as best he can.

“Where is she?”

“Hell if I know.” Wooyoung tries his best to shrug with the words, but the restraints around his arms and torso keep him firmly planted to the cold metal chair. “In case you don’t remember, you kinda kidnapped me while I was unconscious and couldn’t see shit. Amazing that you managed to grab my sorry ass yet missed your precious little Ghost entirely, huh?”

That pulls the second guard forward, and he steps into Wooyoung’s space with a sneer of his own that is so vicious it causes Wooyoung to flinch away.

“We weren’t the dipshits in charge of collecting the packages. The ones who were hit a snag.”

Wooyoung manages to roll his eyes even as the guard presses closer.

“There’s nothing I can do to help you then. Your people crushed my earpiece so I don’t even have a way to contact her.” A finger comes down to tap against Wooyoung’s temple. It’s almost gentle in the way it brushes over his skin, but each tap comes harder than the last and you aren’t too foolish to ignore the threat in the touches.

“You will cooperate though, and you will answer our questions. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to crack that pretty little head open and take what we need instead. Unless you’d like to arrive at the whorehouse as a husk? That would make your job easier wouldn’t it?” A cruel grin twists over the man’s lips, one that you can’t bear to look at but you don’t have much of a choice because Wooyoung decides to stare him down with equal ferocity. “Now, when did Miss Y/N join your crew?”

“Who knows?” Wooyoung shrugs within his constraints. “I’ve never been good at keeping track of time.”

“Then what did she do before joining the crew?”

“Never shared any details about her life before meeting us.”

The pirate lifts his hand, and you’re almost certain that he is going to hit Wooyoung again but instead, he presses one index finger back to Wooyoung’s temple.

“You know… the other one was a lot more intense about these questions. Thrashing, angry, fuming at every mention of her name, so upset that we would even dare to ask about the little ghost. Why is that? Are they close?”

Wooyoung arches a brow. It takes a moment for you to realize that this man is talking about San of all people, but when you do, a wave of guilt hits you square in the chest. The thought of San being strapped to a chair like this and probed for answers about you and your past — having to experience it through Wooyoung and knowing that this is all because they captured Wooyoung and San in your place… it’s brutal enough as it is. More than that, it brings you back to that conversation you shared with San in the aftermath of your shared torture — the one where you sat opposite each other on his bed and admitted how afraid both of you were. How you were afraid to ever see San in that position again, and yet somehow… somehow not seeing it is worse. Somehow knowing that he is being put through this sort of hell and you are powerless to do anything to stop it is far worse than lying across from him on a sandy floor in an old warehouse with a crazed Berserker over you.

“Am I supposed to know the intimate details of relationships now? Why does your boss even need to know something of that nature?”

“Quit asking fucking questions.” It’s the more violent of the two guards who says that, and he steps forward to slam his elbow into Wooyoung’s stomach. “Do you wanna know what we did with your friend? Put him on this very chair and told him all the pretty ways we could fuck up that head of his if he didn’t cooperate. People like him… they have a lot of baggage. They carry weights on their shoulders that last a lifetime, and if you know how to manipulate it, then you can get whatever you want from them. And you—”

The man pushes a hand up the expanse of Wooyoung’s chest until he reaches the band of metal around his neck. Two fingers slip under the collar. Wooyoung presses his lips together so tight that they tremble under the force, yet that’s still not enough to keep a whimper from slipping out. It’s a mirror image of the Wooyoung you met upon waking up in the medbay for the first time, a mirror image of the terrified boy who plunged an anesthesia shot into your neck, the one you were certain was weak and fragile. You hadn’t thought of Wooyoung like that since back then, never imagined him to be weak after Yeosang mentioned how much he’s gone through and after witnessing his drive to protect the people around him. But now?

Now it’s just Wooyoung. There is no one in his immediate vicinity to protect, nor is there anyone here to protect him as you are stuck being a helpless bystander with no power or control over his body.

“You’re just like him, aren’t you? Burden after burden on your shoulders. Pretty little traumas to keep you awake at night. That… tough guy act where you pretend to be better than your crewmates — don’t you know how easy it is to see through that? You know your own worth, and that worth amounts to being nothing more than a filthy slave who will soon sell his body to others to get a bite of food at night. Can’t you see yourself doing that for the rest of your life? Why else would a broken collar stay around your neck?”

Broken?

Wooyoung has grown dreadfully quiet, and that tells you that the pirate hit the nail on the head with too much ease. Yet now that you think about it, the collar around Wooyoung’s neck is most definitely a shock collar, but you have never once seen it glowing with electricity or power in the slightest, which can only mean that Wooyoung truly is walking around with a dead shock collar at all times. That reality is haunting on its own, but that coupled with the continuous and monotonous cries in the background that beg ‘please’ over and over only make matters worse.

“We’re getting nowhere with this one. The last one was much more responsive when it came to these questions. We should just bring him back in and leave this one to rot in the cell with the Berserker.”

“O-Okay… yeah… let’s try that.”

Wooyoung doesn’t make some great escape when they pull the restraints loose, and for the first time since waking up in his body, you gain the sense that he is genuinely tired of fighting back against their advances. He lets his body fall slack in their grasp, allowing himself to be pulled from the chair and dragged by the elbows between their bodies. Albeit faint and dying, you swear up and down that you can still hear that faint child-like voice ringing in your ears.

“You really do suck at torture.” A bit of crimson liquid slips out the corner of Wooyoung’s lips as he speaks, leftover residue that dripped from his nose, and he spits it to the floor without a care in the world.

“The goal isn’t to torture. If we could harm you physically, we certainly would.”

Wooyoung doesn’t speak further than that and again you think it’s because he doesn’t have the energy in his body to do so. He settles for glancing around the ship extensively as the two guards drag him back to the cell. That is somewhat odd to you at first seeing as he’s had plenty of opportunities to look around the ship from the inside of his cell, but realization sinks in when Wooyoung nods his head towards an exit door on the way to the cell.

Oh… are you trying to help me? That becomes increasingly apparent when he scans each wall and corner like his life depends on it, and you do your best to commit every inch of the room to memory. If this is something of a military ship, you should be able to figure out a basic layout with Yeosang’s help if he remembers anything too. Wooyoung hums to himself as they reach the electrified gate to the cell, but he doesn’t do anything other than that until the taller guard shoves him to the floor of the cell. San darts forward, nearly tripping over his feet in his rush to get to Wooyoung’s side.

“God, what did they do to you? I told you to be fucking careful!” He hisses under his breath. Wooyoung quirks one corner of his lips up and flashes a quick wink in San’s direction.

“Hold onto this for the time being,” he mutters back, digging the small rectangular card and piece of metal from earlier out of his pocket. Wooyoung only extends the piece of metal, something small and indiscernible practically, but Wooyoung must find some value in it to pass it to San rather than the card, which is clearly a keycard. San takes the item without complaint but his brows are still tightly knit together in concern. “I need more information from the guards. I almost got ‘em.”

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Only a little beat up. Pain… pain is nothing to me, not this kind at least. I’ve felt enough to grow rather used to it after all this time, so don’t worry about me getting hurt. It’s all just my little show so they don’t go harder than I want them to. Just — take the time to care for Mingi’s wound while you can. I’ll be back soon.”

Wooyoung hoists himself up to his feet and presses the keycard between his teeth. He and San maintain eye contact until Wooyoung turns completely around to face the closing door of the cell.

“Can’t even focus long enough to keep track of your belongings, huh? Cheap guards for the big boss?”

There’s a clatter then the slam of the cell door resounds, and both pirates rush in to tackle Wooyoung to the floor. The shorter of the two reaches him first, knocking into Wooyoung so hard and fast that it feels like your brain is rattling against the confines of your skull. San pushes forward as well and intercepts the second guard with his arm.

“Stand down, San, stand down!” Wooyoung shouts, stopping the Spectre at just the last second before he punches the guard in the throat. “It’s okay, just let them take me. It’s okay. They can’t hurt me.”

“We may not be able to, but the Reaper is gonna make you fucking pay for such foolish actions.”

“The Reaper, huh? Is that the infamous big boss?” A hand curls through Wooyoung’s hair. With a sharp tug that nearly pulls the strands right off his scalp, he’s brought up to his knees.

“Yes, it is. You’ve quickly proved that you’re too much of a disobedient brat to be sent to the House of Lilies. Maybe we should send you through some rehabilitation too with your little friends, yeah? We’ll take good care of you until the Reaper comes back to the ship though.”

Wooyoung collects a bit of spit on his tongue then slings it at the guard’s face, a bit of crimson mixing in with the saliva.

“We’re counting on it.”

Right then you feel Wooyoung directly contacting you in his consciousness, a small push and pull on the edges of your mind, and he drops his chin to his chest so quickly that you think he’s passed out on the spot. It’s enough to deter the guards and their focus on him for now, and he cracks an eye open to stare at the floor as they drag him down the hall yet again.

“Y/N…” he whispers under his breath. “Y/N, take that info back to Yeosang. Give him that name too. The Reaper.”

You want more information than that, but Wooyoung’s consciousness knocks hard against yours, and the vision before you fades to black, cutting any hopes of getting more from him drastically short.

All that you’re left with is fogged thoughts and that name shining clearly at the forefront of your mind: The Reaper.

…

Han Jisung.

Never did you think you would see him again, and that still hasn’t sunk into your bones yet. The feeling deep in your gut currently is hard to explain. You aren’t sure you could ever make sense of it, but seeing that man, Han Jisung, a person you relied on so heavily for so long standing over by the observation window on the bridge of The Horizon feels like it should be something of a fever dream. Alas, it’s not, it’s all very real and very tangible, and you don’t realize how long you’ve been glaring holes into the back of Jisung’s head until Yeosang clears his throat from beside you.

The two of you sit near the comms station, and you’ve made a home for yourself sitting atop the desk as Yeosang sits at the chair before it. He has his bound journal set out on the desk, pen in hand as he scribbles over the pages. Jongho is not far away himself: he stands closer to the captain’s seat, and none other than Hongjoong himself sits in that place, back steering the ship as he usually does. Seonghwa is nowhere in sight — still down in the medbay with Yunho for further observation since his condition was much more critical than yours. All you can hear is the faint rumble of the ship’s power systems and air passing through the air filters. The silencing should be deafening, but it gives you more than enough time to process your thoughts while you can.

That blessed silence is interrupted within seconds as Yeosang’s chair scrapes hard against the metal floor and he scoots closer to where you’re perched. You follow his movements, twisting at the waist to lean over the empty space between you and offer some semblance of privacy for the ensuing conversation.

“So, according to what you saw last night, I drew up a basic sketch of what I think the ship’s layout looks like,” Yeosang mutters, exposing the pages of his journal to you. “Two exit doors in the room with the cell. They took Woo to a small room that had a single reclining chair and medical equipment. Potentially a former military ship, although from the sounds of it, it must be a rather old one. Since they’re headed to Dorado, I would assume it’s a Doradian ship that they jacked.” Yeosang pauses to scribble a few more unintelligible words on the paper, writing twisting and curling in a way you’ve never seen before. “We still don’t know why they want you… but San said they’re at least three days out to Dorado. With the speed Hongjoong is flying at, we won’t catch up for another four days though. Most of the flight will be pushing through the celestial barrier between Aurum and Geofflan, but we can’t burn extra fuel without having to tap into emergency reserves.”

“So then what? The exchange is supposed to happen soon after they land so there’s no way we’ll be able to catch up and break them loose before then,” you reason. Yeosang manages a small nod, avoiding the stare you send his way as he continues to scribble in his journal.

“We at least know the main location will be the capital, Lynder. And we know that Wooyoung is slated to go to the House of Lilies — if this Reaper figure doesn’t change his mind, that is — but Mingi and San will be sent to separate rehabilitation facilities.”

“That’s bad for the rest of us then. Once they’re separated, we have a higher risk of failure.”

Yeosang presses his lips into a thin line and hums softly. “But once they’re out of this Reaper’s hands, they won’t be his responsibility anymore. Mingi will, since they plan to transport him back to Kebos once he’s ready, but Woo and San are being sold independently. We should aim to take them back after the deals go through. That way the Reaper can’t cause issues because he will already have his money. A whorehouse won’t mind losing someone unless they pay a great deal for them… I don’t know how Dorado operates in terms of military regulations and such. Or even how important the military is to them. We’ll have to be quick to get San back, won’t we?”

You give a quick shake of your head.

“They plan on putting him through that regression therapy first so we will have time before they try to wipe him.”

“If, and only if he’s strong enough to withstand that torture.”

You ball your fists tight around the leather of your pants.

“He’ll be strong enough.”

“There’s no way of knowing what they’ll do to him once it’s time for that regression therapy, and we won’t be able to do anything for him if he caves early.”

“Then we should prioritize him and get to him first,” you argue, forcing your tone to stay as low as possible. “Either we have faith that he will hold out as long as possible or he’s the first one we rescue.”

“And how confident are you that he can handle that level of torture? I saw many recruits be sent to those wiping chambers in my time as a prince. None of them lasted longer than fourteen hours on the table. Either due to a weak constitution or the sheer level of trauma they were forced to go through. Knowing his past and what traumas they could awaken, how confident can you be that he will last longer than that? I don’t want one slimy fucking mongrel to lay a hand on Woo in that whorehouse, and he will be easiest to recover so we need to prioritize him if that’s the easiest option. If San reaches a point where he wants the serum, then what? We have another Mingi dilemma on our hands?”

That question stops you in your tracks. You hadn’t dared to think that far ahead simply out of fear that it could be a reality. It does take you back to the one and only time you and San spoke about the issue the serum posed though, for better or worse.

“If our positions were switched, would you be okay with it?”

“I can’t pretend to know what that experience was like for you or how deeply it affected you. If I were the one who had used it before, and I was aware of it like you, I know that I would be selfish at the end of the day. I have mentioned it before but I wish to cling to you for as long as I can. And though it’s — though it goes against my morals, I would not want you to take the serum because I can’t bear the thought of you forgetting who I am and how I feel about you. I know that sounds a bit bold, especially given your relations with Seonghwa, but… I would say the same to any member of the crew — save for Yeosang perhaps. You all are special and valuable to me in unique ways, and the thought of any of you losing any memory we share is too much for me.”

“Would you expect the same of me in return?”

“I would only ask that which I would ask any of the crew. To do what is right by your own standards and not by anyone else’s. We’ve all been slaves to other people’s whims and desires for too long. I would never wish to put anyone through that again, and even something as simple as pushing my opinion onto you would be unfair.”

And here you sit now coming to the gross realization that you cannot be okay with the thought of San forgetting who you are. You cannot live in a universe where he loses every ounce of work he’s put in over the years, the relationships he’s built with the crew, the things he has had to survive — you cannot bear the thought of it becoming meaningless and futile in the face of simply forgetting it. Because now, as you struggle on your own with these hazed memories that have no true place in your mind, you know that you could never wish that on anyone. Not knowing your past is a horrid fate, but losing all the pieces you’ve put together is a fate worse than death.

“There’s no way in hell I am ever going to let them give San that serum, even if it’s what he wants.”

Yeosang huffs air through his teeth but doesn’t comment further than that, and you take it as a sign that the conversation is concluded for now. When you lift your head again, movement from near the observation window catches your eye, and none other than Jisung himself stares over at you with eyes wide and searching. Like not a thing has changed in the past few years, and like those broken memories that plagued your dreams were nonexistent altogether.

Whatever comes over you is compelling enough to pull you off the desk. Yeosang follows your movements with his eyes, lips parting to ask what you’re doing, but you stop him by dropping a hand to his shoulder.

“There’s something I can’t wait on anymore,” you murmur. That is all the explanation you give before forcing your feet to move towards Jisung. A soft laugh echoes through the bridge as you draw closer to him, and Jisung greets you with nothing more than that and a rounded smile at first.

“Took you long enough to come speak to me like this. All those years of knowing each other for what?”

“For you to tell me the truth now.”

“Hm?”

“Hyunwoo told me before he went off to die that one day you would tell me the truth. So what is it?”

A frown paints Jisung’s lips.

“What are you talking about? Hyunwoo never said anything of the sort.”

“I distinctly remember it, as well as being strapped to a chair with Hyunwoo over me saying that they would only take a little bit. And I’ve been having odd dreams of memories that I have no recollection of. So just what the fuck happened to me before leaving the military and killing the king? Right now I don’t have anyone alive who can tell me that except for you, Jisung.”

Jisung folds his arms over his chest, eyes turning to narrow slits as he glares forward at you. Then, he slowly extends his right arm and poises to place the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Watch it.” You don’t need to turn to know whose voice that is, and you half-expect to turn and find Jongho at your side in the blink of an eye. However, when you glance back over your shoulder, Jongho is still beside Hongjoong’s chair, and the captain’s hand is placed ever so delicately in front of his chest that it hardly blocks the Berserker from moving. It’s moreso the gesture that keeps Jongho in check, and no matter how unhappy he seems with the order, he follows it without complaint.

“I have no intention of hurting her at all! Come now, would you take me for a fool? You should all know better seeing as the bargain I made in helping you was for her safety.”

“She might have made that bargain with you, but you made no such deal with me,” Hongjoong states without batting an eye. “And I will not allow you to force her to leave my crew, even if you have come to an agreement.”

“She made the agreement knowing full well what it would entail and because it’s what she wanted,” Jisung counters. His arm falls back to his side without touching you in the slightest.

“I didn’t,” you refute immediately. “I am only doing this for the crew, not because I actually want to be near you.” An almost feral noise tears through Jisung’s lips, and you flinch back just to put some distance between your bodies.

“After all the things I’ve done for you, all the sacrifices I’ve made, the risks I took to even make certain that you would make it out of that cell alive—”

Your body reacts before your head can catch up. Next thing you know, you have two fists curled tight around Jisung’s collar and are slamming him up against the observation window with a strength that surprises you as much as it surprises Jisung. Hongjoong must retract his hold on Jongho because suddenly the Berserker is at your side now, hand pressing hard on your shoulder. You knock his grip away without so much as looking at him; there is too much adrenaline running through your body right now, too much heat in your blood and fire in your bones, and nothing is going to stop you from taking out years of bottled-up frustrations on Jisung now.

“You have absolutely no right to dare to say such a thing. You don’t get to talk about sacrifice! The only person who took risks for me was Hyunwoo. The one who died In my place is the only one who gets to talk like that and claim that he’s made sacrifices. I buried you in my past the minute I was forced to dig an empty grave alone. You let me alone on that god-forsaken planet to bury an empty grave without so much as looking back! No matter how hard you try to justify it, there is nothing that will ever convince me that it was the right or fair decision to make! Anything you ever did for me — whether I remember them or not — it all pales in comparison to what Hyunwoo sacrificed.”

“Only people who die for you can sacrifice things? What of the people I killed for you? The innocent people I killed to keep your reputation untarnished? How much blood is on your hands, Y/N? You look at me like I am a monster but I am what you made me! Whether you like it or not, the truth of the matter is that Hyunwoo agreed to my terms. Hyunwoo is just as much at fault for what we did to you as I am. And what we did was necessarily because I guarantee if you remembered all the things you did, you would rather kill yourself than keep on living the way you are now.”

Your momentary shock is enough for Jongho to pull you off Jisung. He wedges himself between you and the Spectre, folding his arms over your hips to guide you further away from the man.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Stand down,” he murmurs. “You need to pick your battles, and this is not one for you to fight right now.” Again you feel that pull of warmth coming from him, like someone is trying to pull something from your chest, but it retracts almost instantaneously. Jongho falters. His eyes squeeze shut harshly, face contorting with something that almost looks like pain in your eyes, but that lasts less than a second before he’s recovered again. It’s not enough to stop the onslaught of emotions coursing through your veins.

“And what exactly is it that you and Hyunwoo did to me? Because I sure as hell don’t remember or understand anything! How long do you plan to lie to my face?”

“I can’t tell you,” Jisung says. There is a sudden drop to his tone, one that hits harder than it should. “As selfish as it may be, that is the one secret I will never disclose, and Hyunwoo would be a fool to ever believe that I would tell you what it is. If he wanted it exposed so desperately, then he can do it himself.”

You see red. It all feels like a blur yet simultaneously like the universe is moving in slow motion around you. You are hyperaware of the way you push Jongho out of the way to get back to Jisung, fist clenching so hard that your knuckles go white just before you sock the man in the jaw. The noise that resounds is disgusting and brutal, a sick crack that echoes in your ears like a battle cry.

“You don’t fucking get to talk about Hyunwoo as though he’s alive,” you growl, curling your fingers through Jisung’s hair and yanking his head back hard enough to make his neck pop. “You dipped off-planet without even seeing the execution through, without even waiting for blood to spill, so you have no right.” Jisung’s tongue darts out and wets the corners of his lips. “You have no right1” You repeat as though it will do any good. “You killed innocent people as though it was nothing! Was that all Hyunwoo was to you too? Just another bump in the road on your path to power?”

You swing for his face once more, but this time Jisung reacts before you can hit him. He pushes your hand to the side, expression relatively neutral compared to your own rage-filled one.

“I bet you couldn’t wait to see Hyunwoo die because that would mean the leader was out of the way and you could finally have that power you wanted! People would finally listen to you? Is that what you wanted? How could you do that to us, Jisung? We were a team, a family, you were all I had. How could you kill people in my name? Innocent people, who did nothing wrong killed for saying something trivial about me? How could you let innocent people be taken in my place? Wooyoung and San did nothing wrong! They don’t have that blood on their hands, they don’t carry the weight of that guilt on their shoulders, they aren’t bad people, Han Jisung! How could you? Why would you let that happen? Why would you put them in a place to be hurt and sold in my place? Who gave you the right to make that decision? You’re not some god!”

Jisung doesn’t move a muscle throughout your tirade, his face doesn’t budge nor does his disposition — it’s almost like yelling at a statue in an eerie and unsettling way. Then he speaks again, and this time it is with a haunting flatness to his tone.

“When have you ever known me to be cruel?”

“I-I thought the answer to that was never bu-but now I don’t know if I can trust that.”

Jisung blinks.

You inhale.

Then something hits your stomach so hard that you double over in pain, blind-sighted by the speed at which Jisung moves, and Jongho doesn’t have time to react either. Jisung doesn’t stop there though; no, he returns the favor and grips your hair close to the scalp to yank you back up to be eye level with him.

“I am merely… a cruel person, Y/N. I have always been cruel. And when it comes to protecting people I care about, there are no morals. There are no grey areas. There are no lines that I am not willing to cross. The universe has made me evil by taking everything from me, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get to have at least one thing I care about. And that one thing is you.”

Silence ensues. You don’t dare speak again; you aren’t sure you could even form words if you wanted to. Out the corner of your eye, you see a flash of metal and the barrel of a gun.

“If you so much as move a muscle, I will shoot you down with no hesitation.” You never saw the man move but that cold tone can only belong to Hongjoong. That suspicion is confirmed when Jisung releases his hold on your hair, letting you pull back and stand up straight once more. Hongjoong doesn’t lower his weapon even as Jisung raises his hands in surrender. “You call yourself cruel. Well, I am evil. Cruel, harsh, cold-hearted, and full of nothing but malice. So you can fucking bet that I won’t let you take her against her will. And if you even for a breath of a moment think otherwise, then I will put a bullet between your eyes and send you off to meet your maker.”

Jisung’s nose twitches as he sneers back at the captain.

“That’s not a risk you would ever take.”

“Ha, then you know fairly little about me, Han Jisung. I could sit here for hours and tell stories about the blood I’ve spilled, the blood my lieutenant has spilled, the things we have done as the most notorious and bloodthirsty pirates in the universe, or I could tell you of my own individual accomplishments. But if you truly think that I won’t do everything in my power to stop you from taking her?”

Hongjoong’s arm shifts and the barrel of the gun finds a new home, a new target.

On you.

Between your eyes.

Hongjoong cocks the hammer back. The click seems ten times louder than it is in reality. Jongho pulls closer to you, eyeing Hongjoong with a wary gaze.

“I can be evil if that is what you want me to be,” Hongjoong whispers, arching a brow at Jisung. “Such a thing would be easy for a man like me. But it comes with a price, and it’s one that you should weigh heavily. Take her against her will, and I’ll make sure the only thing you take is a corpse.”

“Good move, Captain,” Jisung replies. “I do so enjoy playing such mind games with someone who is actually of my caliber and on my level like this. Now, the move is mine to make, no?”

“You would treat her life as something as mundane and childish as a game of chess?”

Jisung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Mind yourself, Captain. All I have to do is give the command, and my dogs will bite.” Hongjoong lets Jisung step around him and make for the edge of the bridge before lowering his pistol and returning it back to its holster.

“Han Jisung.”

Hongjoong’s words stop the man in his tracks, and your eyes find his in the brief moment of hesitation before he turns to look directly at the captain. Hongjoong doesn’t look back, at least not face to face because he merely glances over at Jisung through the reflection of the observation window. It’s an almost haunting sight, one that sends a chill down your spine and makes you stand up a bit straighter as you watch them level each other with glares full of contempt and malice.

“Hungry dogs are never loyal. They’ll eat with anybody who has food. And yours are ravenous.”

“The same could be said for yours, Scourge. Many wonder how much bending that Berserker can take before he breaks. Others say that the slave will turn tail and run the moment the doors of the whorehouse open. My money, on the other hand, is on the Spectre.”

If either man hears the audible gasp of panic that slips between your lips, they opt not to comment on it. Jisung’s lips twist a bit, curving into an ugly smile that makes you sick to your stomach.

“You’d be nothing more than a fool to believe that any of my dogs are not fed well under my care.”

“Is that what happened during your mutiny? Which dog were you, Kim Hongjoong? From the stories I’ve heard, you were starved to the bone.”

Hongjoong shows an admirable sense of restraint in that moment; he barely lets any emotion slip through his features or stance even though you are certain that he is just as shocked as you are.

“The weakest links are always the first to go. The ones with the most to lose, and thus… the Spectre will break first. Because whether you acknowledge it or not, I have something he is desperate to see again.” Jisung shifts to face you. His eyes glint under the fluorescent lights of the bridge. “What happens when you throw a hungry dog a bone?” It’s nothing more than a rhetorical question, one meant to scare you, and that it does because your heart clenches painfully in your chest and squeezes around itself until you can barely stand up straight. “He swallows it whole.”

You watch Jisung leave without daring to speak one more word to him. Hongjoong doesn’t move away from the observation window quite yet, and even as you look over his reflection in the window, you cannot for the life of you gauge what emotions are running through his body.

“Would you truly have shot me?” You ask before you can stop yourself. The adrenaline of having a gun pointed at your head with such little care for your life is not something foreign but to have Hongjoong be the person to do so… you want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his tone was far too resolute for that. But then, he shakes his head in denial.

“Never. I made a promise to keep you safe, and I made similar promises to the rest of the crew that no matter what, I would always do whatever is in my power to keep you all safe. To keep our crew safe. I am not about to let Han Jisung take that from my crew.” Hongjoong folds his hands behind his back. His boots scrape against the floor as he spins on his heel and heads back to the captain’s seat.

“What… what did Jisung mean by his ‘dogs’ if he works under Vladimir?” Jongho is the one to pose the question, and it brings Yeosang away from the comms station to listen in on the conversation better. Hongjoong tilts his head from side to side, letting a quiet hum ring through the room before speaking again.

“Did you truly believe that when Jisung told you that? I thought I taught you all to think more critically than that. After all, who in the universe could want you badly enough to kidnap and work with deadly pirates?” Hongjoong looks you dead in the eye as he asks the question. You scoff to deflect the panic it sends through your system.

“With a bounty like mine, it’s enough for anyone to resort to violence of some sort.”

“Word gets around quickly, and people hear things fast in our little world. Pirates are good at transmitting information swiftly. Which means that everyone already knows you are now employed by the Black Scourge’s crew. So I’ll ask again: who could possibly want you badly enough to cross me of all people?”

There is only one answer to that question, and that answer just walked off the bridge not too long ago. You can’t bring yourself to admit it with your words, although you don’t need to because Hongjoong simply continues speaking without missing a beat.

“Jisung made no mistakes. There were no missteps. When we were in the arena, there was never any intention of kidnapping you. There was no hesitation on his part, he knew what he was doing, he knew how to play into your hands. He made a deal with Vladimir — allow his own crew to get into the arena so that he could take two of my crew, then he would kidnap Mingi for Vladimir as payment. Because Jisung knew there was an easier way to get you since he knew what kind of person you are from time in the military together. He knew that if he took your teammates, you would not hesitate to sacrifice yourself for their safety. And thus, he made his offer: an exchange of you for your crewmate’s recovery. In reality, he was the one who took them intentionally in the first place.”

A smile twists at the man’s lips, one that is almost unsettling and disturbing, and you find yourself shifting your weight from foot to foot as you look down at him.

“I played right into his hands then,” you murmur, glancing away to grant yourself some semblance of peace.

“That may be the case, yes… however, once something is mine, I don’t particularly like letting go of it. If there’s one thing I have in common with such a person, it’s that. I am undeniably selfish, Y/N. And now that you’re here with me, I don’t intend to let anyone take you from my hands. If he wants you so desperately, then he will have to go through hell to get you, and giving people hell is my specialty.”

“Is that the same reason you pointed a gun at my head?”

“Every man has his price. I find threats to be quite effective in securing bargains and deals. Before I placed that gun to your head, he didn’t imagine I could be so cruel. And now… I’ve only confirmed every suspicion that has been eating at my mind since I woke up.”

“And those suspicions would be what?” You dare to ask, leveling the man seated before you with a stare that he regards out the corner of his eye.

“Han Jisung is nothing but a hungry dog, and I intend to make him bite.”

✧✧✧ a/n: haha? 17.2k WHO?! gotta admit this is my fave chapter i’ve ever written the ending hits im v proud of her ! what did i say i said she would be a long one but even i didn’t expect this i cannot lie well as i said i am dropping and yeeting (to sleep) but i’ll be here to watch my chaos unfold a bit first ;3 as ALWAYS let me know what you think, give me the juicy deets, the theories, the screaming, the ‘caly how could you’, and all that jazz it’s SO good to be posting a mists chapter yall have no idea how happy it makes me to do this again fogijdfiogaj, she’s heavily unedited tho so im sorry in advance for grammatical issues

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @okokokok123-45 @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @vampire-jimin @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @felixity @rawrrainn @hewwo-from-the-other-side @icekdy @fuckjoong

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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chroma-ki · 4 years

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What Happens When Society Fails Those Who Could Succeed - A Bakugo Katsuki Analysis

I started this a while ago, but I’ve seen others delve into this topic and I wanted to share as well. This delves into to hero society’s affects on Bakugo Katsuki’s upbringing, his worldview, his self-view, and Izuku’s involvement in breaking down the ideas society has drilled into his head.

A lot of people like to ignore the fact that Katsuki is a 14-year-old kid at the start of the series and that much of his life, attitude and disposition of the world have been completely shaped by the adults and society around him.

What do you expect a kid with potential to turn into when they are warped in such a way by a society that dictates that they need to be strong, or nothing at all? What about when your only value is based around a sliding scale of strength and weakness? What happens when that kid’s only source of help comes in the form of a reckless, selfless child who defies all sense of logic and reason (Izuku)?

Growing up, Bakugo was constantly praised for being strong, having a powerful quirk and being generally the smartest person in the room at any given time. He could arguably be considered a prodigy, and much of what he sees and learns feels beneath him -- because it's already on his mind. He is a kid with natural god-given talent that everyone around him immediately recognizes as above average.

Even as a toddler, he was constantly a step ahead of everyone else. Due to this, people developed a lot of high expectations for him at a young age -- and it doesn't help that he has a naturally competitive streak that makes him constantly want to prove himself and live up to these expectations; even surpass them.

Always being at the top of his class and being ahead of the curve mentally fuel the idea in Katsuki's mind that, in the game of life, he is 'winning'. Yet, at the same time, none of it is ever enough. Other's high expectations of him cause him to build extremely high expectations of himself; expectations that border on unrealistic. They also inflate his ego exponentially when this praise gets reaffirmed time and time again.

Certainly, in a situation where you're raised on other people's praise and validation, it is completely understandable that you would put a lot of emotional emphasis on other people's opinions of you. On top of that, he gives off such a natural and convincing air of confidence that people can't help but feel that he is reliable, despite his attitude. People are awed by him, and all of it feeds into the mental image he has constructed of himself, and the world as a whole. It's the whole reason for a lot of how he acts. He builds an image of himself based on the praise of those around him -- and even Izuku also feeds into this mentality by worshipping the literal ground Katsuki walks on as a kid.

This mentality seems to be working fine for him until Izuku's very presence starts to throw a wrench into everything Katsuki has been raised to believe.

Izuku completely defies logic to Katsuki. Izuku does not fit the societal norm and, beyond what others have taught him, Izuku is Katsuki’s only real hint that the world might not be quite what he thinks it is, and that his idea of what it means to be strong may not be a ‘one-size fits all’ defenition.

Izuku is a quirkless kid; weak and generally mild-mannered. He doesn't have any self-confidence and is a big crybaby. Yet, Izuku still believes that he can be strong and become a hero -- when Katsuki has always been told the opposite. Katsuki recognizes that this may be some version of strength he is unaware of, and it raises BIG RED FLAGS in his mind.

Where many of Katsuki's other childhood friends were barely more than acquaintances who he forgot over time, Izuku immediately caught Katsuki's interest and spiked his curiosity. Like everyone else in his life, Izuku praised Katsuki and told him all the things he wanted to hear -- but Izuku was also unique and intelligent. Izuku was the first person who actually seemed like they could stand near Katsuki's level; like they might be actual competition.

Then, Bakugo got his quirk and Izuku is diagnosed as quirkless. The reactions of everyone around him to this news, including Izuku’s own reaction, only go back to telling him what society has told him all along. Strength is everything, and quirks are a part of that desired strength. This is another moment that reaffirms Katsuki's world view. "I won, you lose. I really am the best."

Though Bakugo is super aggressive on the outside, he is a very self-critical character and often means the opposite of whatever he is saying. Especially when it comes to his self-confidence and bravado.

People often complain when watching the series about him telling people to 'die' and "got to hell", or calling other people "extras", and I don't think enough people understand -- that is just how he speaks. Those are things he says out of reflexive anger. None of those words ever have any real meaning.

It's more important to pay more attention to the moments in which he is more reserved/quiet. He suffers from both a superiority complex and inferiority complex, as well as paranoia (much of which revolves around his warped idea of how Deku, and other people he values, perceive him). Much of what he says is just empty words or him trying to project an image of self-confidence.

He wears his pride like a suit of armor to hide all the things he doesn't want to admit about himself. He attempts to make up for his own insecurities by getting angry. And he learned this at home from his mother, who is much the same as him.

From the little that we have seen of his parents throughout the series so far, his parents love him and provide him with everything he could possibly need -- but his mother often insults him and throws harsh truths in his face to counteract his cocky nature. One of the most notable instances of this is when All Might and Aizawa are talking to his parents about moving the kids to the dorms and his mom says "If you hadn't have gotten yourself caught by the villains in the first place, none of this would have happened".

That comment feeds directly into his mental breakdown in front of Izuku where he blames himself for All Might's downfall, flat out saying that "If I hadn't been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened".

It gets me every time if you go back to the 8th episode of the series, near the VERY BEGINNING -- right after he's defeated by Deku for the first time in combat training -- and the episode literally starts with him having a full on panic attack.

He's trembling, hands shaking, hyperventilating, the whole deal. And that particular incident was triggered not only by Deku defeating him and standing up to him (which completely contradicts the Izuku that Bakugo has grown up with all his life and feeds into Bakugo's own fear that he is weak), but is also brought on by the fact that he notices how severely Deku allowed himself to be injured JUST TO WIN THE EXCERSIZE. Again, this idea that even the weak can be strong. It also doesn’t help that he cares about Izuku and doesn’t want to see him get hurt.

And I'm sorry -- but below does not look like the face of someone who's pissed off to me. He looks PETRIFIED.

Izuku doesn't just piss Bakugo off -- Izuku TERRIFIES him.

There are actually multiple instances of him reacting like this to Izuku injuring himself throughout the series: sludge villain, sports festival fight against Todoroki and the training camp where Bakugo was kidnapped being the major ones I can think of beyond current managa events. Bakugo may claim to ‘hate’ Deku, but he DOES NOT like to see Deku hurt himself to win, or to save.

Bakugo saw this 'self-sacrificing' trait in Izuku even as a young kid, and it freaked him out. It made him feel weak. It made him question himself and the world around him.

This fear starts with the incident where Bakugo fell off the log as a kid.

It wasn't a life threatening situation, but it was the first situation where Izuku rushed to Bakugo's aid with complete disregard to himself AND when everyone else refused to help.

Bakugo's friends, teachers and parents all held him to such high expectations of intelligence, power and strength -- so of course those would be the values that he grows up idolizing. No one ever really offered him help, because they assumed he didn't need it -- and then Izuku comes rushing in offering it to him, risking his life to do so, and Katsuki's only thought is "Why?! Why do you feel like you have to save me when you can't even protect yourself? Needing to be saved means that I'm weak! Do you think that I'm weak?" I have recently watched another show that had a similar scenario and that character explained what I believe Katsuki felt in this situation BEAUTIFULLY. ------ “It felt like [he] was trying to say I was weak or something. [He] was intruding on feelings [he] didn’t have any right to – and I hated it. Then that got me thinking about everyone else in my life. They never treated me like I was a weakling; someone who needed his hand held. They had faith that I would continue to grow and they let me do it; helping me without ever making me feel weak.”

Izuku continues to do this again and again throughout the series when it comes to Bakugo: the slime villain incident, the training camp, etc -- all without fully comprehending how his actions affect Bakugo. Each time this happens, Bakugo feels weak and utterly helpless to save himself OR to stop Izuku. It's all his worst fears realized.

It's like living his worst nightmare over and over without end in sight.

Going back to the concept of him being offered 'help', very few people have offered him this throughout his life -- and they all saw it as something he never really needed. It's like Katsuki's personality and mental state is a huge sign screaming 'I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING MAKES SENSE! IT MAKES ME MAD AND UPSET! SOMEONE, HELP ME.' and everyone just ignores it.

--- During the log incident - all his friends say 'Oh well, he's fine. He'll pick himself back up.' and Izuku is the only one who offers to help.

--- The sludge villain incident - all the pro heroes say "We can't help right now! You'll just have to hold on, kid!" and again Izuku is the only one who offers help.

--- After his and Deku’s first fight at Ground Beta, which utterly breaks him, all the other students just let him leave alone and only Izuku rushes to help. All Might sees him upset and crying after this and says, “Oh, I guess he’s already over it” -- when that obviously wasn’t the case.

--- And then -- to top it all off -- after he was kidnapped by the LOV and held captive for 3 days without help he wasn't even given time to process! He was taken away by police, ridiculed by his mother, forced to go back to school where his teachers acted like nothing happened, jumped into the provisional hero licensing exam with all those helpless feelings rolling around inside of him and on top of it found out that Izuku received All Might's power -- a power that he had spent his whole life putting on a pedestal. And he goes to Izuku for help.

The fact that everyone just brushed him off like he was someone who didn't need help is just disgusting. The only instance where an adult in his life acknowledged that he needed it was AFTER he already had a full on mental breakdown in front of Izuku, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong and thinking that he had somehow been living his life wrong all this time. Only then did All Might and Aizawa think, ‘Yeah, maybe we failed this kid.’

Keep in mind during all of this that he is 15-16-years-old! He's trying to figure out how to deal with this shit all on his own, with the only person he feels comfortable opening up to being Izuku - someone who he has so much trouble understanding.

At the heart of Katsuki is a place of fear. Fear of being weak, fear of being helpless, fear of failure, fear of losing his friends, fear of himself, most certainly fear of Izuku -- and fear FOR IZUKU. He is a boy who lives in a constant state of panic, worry and paranoia. He is lonely and beats down on himself a lot.

The series deals a lot with how hero society has completely failed it's future generations, but Katsuki is a case where they should have succeeded -- yet ultimately they failed him too. He has all the makings of what could be one of the greatest heroes of all time, yet those around him only focused on the parts of him that could make him great and chose to ignore all the parts that would ruin him from the inside out.

They put him high up on a pedestal only to knock him down and refuse to help him back up. They made him feel like even asking for help was something that made him 'lesser', and it caused him to see other people that way too.

Izuku is the heart of Katsuki's growth, because in every way that Izuku succeeds, Katsuki fails.

I would actually argue that out of anyone in the series since coming to UA, Katsuki has experienced the highest amount of personal failure. He has been knocked down time and time again but ultimately wants to pick himself back up to prove that he deserves to be there. He fights for his friends and tries his best at everything he does. He doesn't always get it right, and he says things that might offend others, but other than Izuku, he's the most driven person there and would utterly destroy himself to reach his goals.

#bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #mha #my hero academia #meta analysis #kacchan #deku #bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk

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kittae · 3 years

Text

Win-win

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1256

Disclaimer: dialogue-heavy, foul language

A/N: things are being set in motion!

« previous — next »

— CHAPTER INDEX —

“–All I’m saying is that you’re not Paul Walker in Fast and Furious and you only drive like that when you’re really upset about something, so why can’t you just tell me? What happened? You missed that cat by a hair, by the way, you almost killed that poor animal.”

Yoongi sighs as he shuts the door to his apartment behind them, keys rattling when he pulls it out of the lock. “You’ll get it when you see it for yourself.”

“What could be so bad that you were ready to drive us to our deaths–”

“Taehyung, for the love of god, stop being dramatic and sit down. Please.” Yoongi groans, a hand coming up to press against his pounding temple, his mind going a hundred miles an hour.

“I’m being dramatic? Wow, okay then.” Taehyung complies but raises his eyebrows, mildly offended by the hypocrisy. “Aren’t you even gonna ask about the seminar?”

“Later. I need you to see this first.”

Taehyung frowns when he sees the website opened on his manager’s phone. “Hyung, i just came back from a three hour seminar, I think I’ve watched enough porn for–”

“Just watch it!”

“Okay, okay! fine…” Tae takes the phone in his two hands and lets the video play. “Oh, he’s cute! So handsome… woah, look at that body!” He whistles in appreciation.

Yoongi only grits his teeth in response.

Taehyung watches the entire video, adding some commentary and making acknowledging noises from time to time. “Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen this guy before, is he new?”

“Yeah, he’s new alright.” Yoongi answers, a pinch of bitterness lacing his tone.

“Okay... What was so urgent about this, though?” Tae wonders out loud, still clueless.

His manager sighs from deep inside his chest. “Tae… please, think. What could be urgent about a young, hot, talented newcomer in a very competitive industry?”

Taehyung snorts, waving away his friend’s concern. “Hyung, new people get into porn every day. Does that mean we have to panic like this every day?”

“No, you don’t get it. He’s going to be your direct rival.” Yoongi presses. “Remember why we’re trying to expand your horizons so you can take on more versatile scripts and different genres. We’re trying to get you as many jobs as possible to increase your online presence.”

“Before a rookie with a 7 inch dick comes along?” Taehyung cites the lecture he remembers.

“Exactly. This guy, this Jungkook, is that rookie. He doesn’t shy away from any trope or genre and is already well on his way on catching up to your following on OnlyFans when you’ve been in the industry for a longer time. Look at the number of subscriptions on his video platform, too. He’s massively popular at the moment.”

Taehyung swallows hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. His face must be an open book, because Yoongi quickly adds some nuance.

“He’s not better than you, Tae. He’s new, interesting, maybe a little different but not better. You’re at least as talented as him, but we have to step up our game. You just need to level the playing field. We have to make sure you’re not old news by the time this guy hits his peak.”

“But how can we do it fast enough? I’m trying but… I can’t take hard core degradation scripts and BDSM stuff on yet, you saw what happened yesterday!”

Yoongi goes to sit beside his friend, wrapping a slender arm around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Listen, there’s no need to freak out yet– yes, I know how I reacted and that doesn’t help but I’m just thinking ahead. I need to think about every possible outcome, everything that could happen so we can be prepared. That’s my job. Your job is just being you and doing your best, alright? Got that?”

“What if that’s not enough?” Taehyung murmurs, sadness seeping through his words. “What if I’m not enough anymore, hyung?”

“Stop that. You’re doing great, you’re still in the top 5 of most popular adult actors. You just continue to do what we planned and I’ll take care of the rest. You’re going to be very busy the next couple weeks.”

Tae’s eyebrows crease questioningly. “Why?”

“We need to get our asses in gear. We’re too outdated, too old school. You need to be more active on social media and make a lot more content. People want instant gratification, the ones who want exclusive, luxurious stuff will still pay the right price for it. But we can’t rely on those customers alone anymore.”

Taehyung’s face twists with distaste. “Hyung, please don’t tell me I’ll have to be a camboy…”

“What? No, of course not. I know that’s not romantic enough for you.” Yoongi winks, the younger visibly relaxing. “No, we’re going to do something different. And I know the perfect person to help us with it.”

–––––––––––

“A miniseries? About what?” You squeeze your phone between your ear and your shoulder to prevent it from falling while you pour hot water into your favourite mug. “Yoongi, stop apologising. I can make time. Besides, things are a bit quiet since I’ve finished the Dom & Dommer series with Hoseok, so I could use something small and fun to keep me busy, actually.”

“Well, technically you’re not really asking me for a favour if I’m getting paid while doing it, right? So you can stop feeling bad for asking before you make me feel bad for accepting.” You chuckle, plopping down on your couch next to your cat, whom you absent-mindedly start petting as you listen to your old friend’s voice. You blow on your tea to cool it off while he speaks, Mochi purring happily underneath your fingers.

“No, I swear it’s no trouble at all. It sounds fun, I’m excited!” You shrug, a genuine smile playing on your lips. “Stop it! It’s a win-win situation. Um...what does Taehyung think? No! No, uh, you don’t have to put him through, I was just curious.”

Your cheeks feel hot and you catch yourself biting your nails for a second, an old habit you used to have when you felt nervous. “Okay, that’s good. Good to hear he’s looking forward to it, I’ll be too! Okay. Yeah, just send it to me or my agent when you’re done. Alright. Talk to you later! Bye, Yoongi.”

The call ends and you take a sip of your lavender tea. “Ow, fuck! Ugh…” You curse as the boiling hot water touches your tongue, simmering for a few seconds before the burn subsides. You weren’t paying attention, thoughts elsewhere.

Mochi meows, the sound somewhere between indignant and mocking.

“Watch it,” You warn him, your eyes narrowing to slits, which he only takes as a display of affection, returning the gesture before crawling into your lap.

Murmuring, you scratch Mochi behind his little ear. “A miniseries with Taehyung?”

Unaware of how your breathing becomes more shallow, or your heart beats a little faster than usual, you grab your phone to look him up online. Immediately, you’re met with an influx of images from the man you’ve only just seen yesterday. You don’t know why you’re doing this, but you find yourself browsing through his social media as well. It’s probably just because you haven’t done any new projects with a new co-star in a while.

“I should try to know more about him if we’re going to work together more often, right? I’m just being professional.” You mumble out loud, Mochi perking up questioningly.

#bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #kim taehyung #kim taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #v #bts v #bts x reader #v fanfic #v smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #pornstar!bts #bts au

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obae-me · 4 years

Text

MC With PTSD

Word Count: 5068

Author’s Note: Thank you to the anon who requested this, due to a weird glitch your request got deleted, but I didn’t forget about it! I did my best to do some research since I’m not an expert on PTSD, so I apologize if this is not accurate.

Warning: Possible Trigger Warnings, Read Safely

Lucifer

He didn’t notice the symptoms at first. Don’t get him wrong, he’s highly observant. It’s just, for one, he’s not an expert in human behavior, and two, MC was doing a damn good job keeping themselves under control. If there were any abnormalities in their behavior, he first chalked it up to them getting adjusted to their new environment.

That was, until the little signs didn’t go away with passing days, and they even became more severe. He would be lying if it said it didn’t make him anxious.

He was at RAD with MC during lunch, taking the break to not only get to know them better, but help them study should they need it. They had been perfectly fine then, maybe still not fully looking into his eyes while he talked, but open and content. They then went up to go to the restroom. When they came back, they were almost a different person. Their jaw was clenched, eyes glassy, the skin on their hand red from them scratching.

“MC...is something wrong?”

“No.”

They spit the word out at him, coming out before he had even fully finished his question. He knew they were upset, but he loathed their tone. What had he done to deserve their venom? He straightened up in his seat, eyes lowered in a squint.

“MC-”

“What?”

They hissed, much too jumpy and irritable. He was doing his best to stay level-headed, but it was driving him up a wall. He had done nothing to warrant how they were speaking to him. No one spoke to him like that. But before he could even attempt to lecture them, MC stood up, pushed their seat over, and with their hair balled up in their hands, they ran off. He called out their name, but was too stunned to follow them. He was left dizzy with such a powerful whirlwind of emotions in such a short amount of time.

He gave them time to cool off, packing up their things, trying to ignore the worry starting to build up in his chest. He sighed. He was certain now that, even among humans, this was abnormal behavior. He scolded himself, he should’ve done something about it sooner. He put off his concern for the time being and continued his busy day at RAD, hoping work would distract these feelings of his.

Hours passed, the school day came to a close, and Lucifer still had MC’s bag. He waited by the front door, D.D.D in hand, doing his best not to crush the device in his hands when MC wasn’t returning his multiple texts and calls. He kept tapping his foot against the ground. All of his other brothers confirmed that they hadn’t seen MC since before they went out with him to lunch.

The time for worrying was now.

He would check every office, every room, every corner of RAD if he had to. It took him hours of scouring the school building to find them. They had been in a dark dusty classroom that had been temporarily abandoned to be redecorated. They were under the teacher’s desk, knees into their chest, D.D.D thrown across the room near some flipped over desks. His notifications were all noted on the front screen. When MC heard his sharp footsteps, they tried sneaking further away into the darkness, covering their ears with their hands with a whimper. The closer Lucifer got, the more he could see them shaking.

He got to his knees, calling out their name in a soft voice, hand extended to help them up should they want it. Upon hearing his voice, their head snapped up at him, looking panicked as it took them much too long to recognize who he was.

“L-Lucifer?” Their voice sounded weak. They reached out to take his hand, and once they did, Lucifer gently held them close to his chest. He didn’t know why, he wasn’t one much for physical affection, but, the way they looked, like they weren’t aware of their surroundings...maybe this would help ground them back to place.

In the safety of their home, the warm fire in the study giving off a peaceful glow, MC told him about it. Not everything, they weren’t ready for that yet. The teacup in their hands was still discovering it hard to stay steady. They told him enough, brushing over the traumatic event they experienced in the past, and then the thing in the hallway they saw that triggered them. They even told him how their many sudden and panic-inducing phone notifications made them feel, but then apologized for it.

They...apologized, why? Why indeed when it should’ve been him to say ‘I’m sorry’. The only reason why he hadn’t said it yet was because he was doing his best to stay calm, working hard to not destroy anyone that would dare make them feel like that, not realizing the pen in his hand had already snapped in two.

He got up, putting his coat around their shoulders, sitting down beside them. He was thankful they told him, even though he would’ve loved to be aware of this so much sooner for both of their sake’s. He put a supportive hand on the top of their head, fingers entangled in their hair, and told them to come to him immediately should they ever be triggered or panicked again. It didn’t matter when, where, why, he wanted them to come to him.

He would work on not spamming their phone, and it was his own personal project to ensure that the scum in both the human and demon world were eradicated. He’d use whatever power he had to help them and make them safe. He knows what to look out for now, and it pleases him when MC comes to him for help so he can put his coat around them and bring them in his arms. He hates seeing him like this, but having him be their source of comfort, their safe space, boosts his pride greatly.

Mammon

Of course he didn’t know. How was he supposed to figure it out, on his own? He was just supposed to come to that conclusion based on their actions when he didn’t even know how humans acted in the first place?

This is what he kept telling himself, at least, when he made MC spiral into a panic attack.

He didn’t mean to, seriously, he didn’t. He didn’t know, he didn’t know. He had them in his arms, rocking them back and forth, almost resorting to praying to his own father for them to stop. He didn’t know.

He had been angry. Not quite Satan level angry, but close. He was tired, irritated, and his brother's relentless teasing had crossed the line for the day. His siblings knew when to stop, when they had taken things too far, and left him alone for the time being, but MC was unaware that giving him space was the best choice. They wanted to comfort him, to make him feel better, to bring him back to his usual carefree self. They cared for him.

They approached him from behind in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. It was dark, but they could make out the silhouette of his wings against dim moonlight. He was already in his demon form, having probably been in it all day. An aura of emotions surrounded him, and already MC could feel it. They felt prickling on their skin, their hands already turning clammy. MC reached out to him, calling his name.

Mammon twirled around quickly, his wings puffing up from his hips. He didn’t mean to touch them, but his wings had reacted so suddenly, it knocked their hand back and made them lose balance. They lost their footing and fell back to the floor with a squeak. They looked up at him to only see his eyes glowing, his fists tightened into balls.

“What do you want? Eh? To be like everyone else? Tell me that I’m scummy? Joke about me?”

He took a step toward them in the dim light.

“Tease me?��

He was unaware of their expression still.

“Why don’t you say so-“ He finally stopped, his wings lowering. They had their arms up over their face, their entire body trembling. The noise of buzzing in his ears died down enough to hear that they were only taking gasping breaths like they couldn’t breathe. They started rocking themselves back and forth on the floor, their fingers digging into their own skin. In between breaths they were muttering quietly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He fell to his knees, hesitating about even touching MC after what he’d done to them. Then he wrapped them in a tight hug, not entirely sure what to do. He had to bite his own lip to keep from panicking himself. He buried his head in their shoulder.

“Hey...hey huma-MC-don't be sorry. I’m sorry, please breathe.”

Levi stepped out of his room to get angry at the commotion, but one look at the situation and the death glare from Mammon made him lower his head and leave them alone. When MC finally calmed down, they were exhausted and embarrassed, too numb for any more crying. He took the both of them back to his room to relax and talk things out so both of them could understand each other’s feelings better.

MC told him about it, how because of one event in their life, they were prone to panic attacks and meltdowns. They curled up on his couch and told them how pathetic they were. He had to cling to them, bury his nose in their hair and told them not to worry. If anyone was pathetic and scummy, he was.

He’ll cling to their side much more often. He’ll come to MC whenever he feels like that again so he won’t lash out at them. If any other brother gets riled up and attempts to cross the line, Mammon will be there to stop them. He’d rather have his siblings take out their anger on him than MC.

Levi

He’s typically quite calm in public, most likely due to his social anxiety. He’s quiet, skittish, and shy. He only ever opens up and comes out of his shell when he’s home. Since he also stays in his room alone most of the time, neither him nor MC were aware of how the others acted under stressful situations.

He should’ve noticed the signs since sometimes he exhibited similar symptoms. Avoiding interactions when possible, the anxiety, the isolation. He just couldn’t get out of his own head enough to realize what that meant. He was too focused on his own problems, on comparing himself to others.

It took multiple match losses, cocky rivals, and stupid teammates before he got his reality check. He wanted to get to hang out more with MC. He’d ignore the fact that Lucifer and some of his other brothers had highly encouraged (or threatened) him to spend some time with the human. He thought of it himself. It was most assuredly his plan. So he allowed them to trespass into his room to play some games with him. Maybe something light. Like maybe some high ranked battle-heavy online matches. Something simple.

Whether they were good at gaming or not, the concept and controls were brand new to them, and so they kept dying. Repeatedly. They found out the hard way that demons are even worse sports when it came to losing than humans were. Once Levi had been ridiculed enough and lost some precious ranks along the way, he snapped. MC could feel him start to lose it, and they took it upon themselves to apologize.

“Levi, I’m sorry, I’ll stop playing. I’m no good. I’ll leave, I’ll-“

The room turned colder as he turned demon. The controller in his hands snapped, and then quickly splintered, circuitry and plastic shards falling into his lap. Even if it wasn’t a huge display, even if he wasn’t directing anything towards them, just the sound of something breaking and the look on Levi’s face was enough to send MC into full blown distress.

MC jumped in their seat, letting out a loud scream, covering their ears with their hands at the sound of destruction. Their reaction caused Levi to almost do the same thing, the last thing he expected was to hear MC shriek. He shook his anger and envy out of his head.

“It’s okay, I have plenty of extra controllers!” He did his best to assure them that he was okay, still unable to realize that while he might be fine, MC was not. He went to put a hand on their shoulder. They flinched from his touch, scrambling backwards with their hands towards his door. Once they made it to their feet, they ran away from him. He got up as quick as he could, following them out his door. All sorts of thoughts were running through his head, most of them self destructive ones, but amidst them all, the thought first and foremost was ‘make sure MC is okay.’

Their wobbly and unstable legs had caused them to fall to the floor again, trying to get back up using the wall as support. Once they saw Levi was approaching, they dropped to their hands and knees, unable to say words through their tears and air-deprived lungs.

There were now two sobbing messes on the floor. As if he didn’t hate himself already, now seeing how he made MC feel made the self loathing worse than losing any rank. He apologized profusely, and out of the two of them, MC was actually the first to stop crying.

With Levi and MC wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, on a cold hard floor in the middle of a hallway, MC told him what had happened to them. They discussed who was involved, and how they never were the same since. It was the first time Levi ever dared put himself above someone, above the trash that dared call themselves human. The maggots that ever thought about harming MC. His friend. His best friend.

Toxic gamer who? Levi doesn’t know them. Gaming sessions are much calmer now, and he’ll always make sure he knows trigger warnings on shows or games so he can filter those ones out of the stuff he shares with MC. He’ll do his best to make sure they enjoy themselves and that they’re kind to themselves.

Satan

He had read several books on mental illness, partly because It fascinated him, another part because he liked using his knowledge to figure out how messed up his siblings were. It was a fun dinner discussion. Help them please So he was aware of the symptoms MC possessed. The way they acted, how they spoke to people, how they would avoid specific things. He was still far away from being a psychologist, though, so even he wasn’t sure how severe it was. He did tend to notice that MC shied away from him anytime he got close to raising his voice or losing his temper. So, for that reason, despite being the demon of wrath, anytime MC was around, he’d be better than anyone else at controlling his emotions.

He was unprepared for an actual hands on experience. No matter how many times he had read about it, no matter how descriptive and in depth the words were, real life was vastly different from books. He’d admit it was his fault, he was rarely wrong, but when he was wrong, he wasn’t as prideful as his older brother to apologize.

It had been a day of many firsts. The first day he invited MC to come watch this old documentary with him. The first time he had such an overwhelming emotion other than anger. The first time someone had screamed in terror when he hadn't specifically been the reason why. And it was the first time he had heard MC scream.

It was a simple documentary about history, and he had ensured it was human history not Devildom history. He thought it was easier to swallow and simpler to relate to. While that might’ve been the case, even he was shocked to find that just the simple history of a single statue would have so much death and abuse. He’d have to thoroughly check these from now on. He had no idea the sound of a gunshot through a television screen would do so much damage.

MC shrieked, and I mean banshee style. All the hairs on Satan’s body stood up on ends. Their body convulsed so badly, they smacked their head on the back of the couch, a little bit of blood already clotting. They had their hair balled up in their hands, some loose strands torn free, dangling from their fingers.

“No, no, no!”

They wailed loudly causing Satan, who was usually calm, to panic. He was used to being angry towards people, not comforting them. The first thing he did was cover them with his body, fighting through their flailing and smacking as they continued to howl in distress. He made sure they couldn’t do any more harm to themselves, using his body as a shield. Their episode was a mixture of fear and anger, doing their best to throw Satan off their body. He refused to let them go, his legs wrapped around theirs, and using his arms to best keep their limbs and head from smacking off the surface of more furniture. At one point, MC’s forehead smacked against his temple making a more than concerning sound. He pressed his own head between their neck, his shoulder wedged on the other side to try to keep their head steady.

“MC, MC! Breathe! Breathe…”

He knew how to ground them, how to use their senses to bring them back to him. He made sure they breathed in for four counts, and then out for four. He watched as the thrashing stopped, the screams turned to squeaks as their throat started to give way. He continued to hold onto them, even after their attack had stopped, head buried into their shoulder till he was sure they were okay. He was also busy hiding his glassy eyes in their body, his ears still ringing.

When all was said and done, he asked MC if it was possible to give him a written list of all their triggers. All books, all movies, all forms of entertainment would be going through him first to make sure they were safe for MC. He would be checking their school work, the school’s lesson plans, and it was one of the few times he actively worked with Lucifer on this. Both of them spending hours pouring over the curriculum.

He was going to figure out for himself what had happened to MC, since he didn’t want to bother them or make them upset again. The only one who should be worried was anyone who had thought they had the right to make MC experience something like that. He was going to ensure they went through it ten times worse.

Asmo

He’s an expert in body language, so he knew something was up, he just had no idea what. He noticed how slumped their posture would get around other people, how they used their arms to hug themselves. He could see the way they nervously picked at their skin or hair when someone mentioned stressful exams. He saw how they refused to look in the mirror. It bothered him. He assumed they were uncomfortable in their own body, and he had just the solution. To make sure they loved their body as much as he did.

While he had good intentions, the demonic side of him just took it to a different level. He had invited them to his bedroom, everything nice and cozy, perfect enough for royalty. He made sure he looked great--but he always did--and he wanted MC to feel the same. Surely, the dopamine hit from what he had planned tonight would make them feel better, and make them love their own body all the same.

So he set the mood, maybe flattered them a bit too much, to be fair. He was so overwhelmed with lust, he didn’t notice how uncomfortable they were. He let them sit on his bed, telling him how soft it was and quiet to boot. Then he made a mistake, taking their laughter and compliments too far as he moved in too close to them and reached for their shirt. Their pupils turned into pinpricks, and as their immediate instinct, they brought their legs up to kick him. Before their knee reached his face, he grabbed it, probably too tightly. They shouted, and before he could say anything, they slapped him. It didn’t sting nearly as much as it would’ve on another human, but it did its job. He was stunned, left alone in his room to gawk at his empty bed as MC ran away, pale as a ghost.

Luckily, it didn’t break skin or leave him scarred, just a bit red, so he would survive. He was surprisingly more worried about MC other than his complexion. He followed after them, discovering them in the bathroom, the door still left wide open in a haste. They were vomiting, tears in their eyes, throat scratched up to hell and back, legs shaking. He had been to many parties before, so he knew what to do. He naturally came over, making sure the hair was out of their face, that they had water, that they especially knew how sorry he was. They flinched under his touch at first, their skin burning and tingling with anxiety. Then they let him pet their head as they got it out.

“I’m so sorry, dear, I crossed a line.”

The effort of expulsion had left MC exhausted, and they moved away from him, head low with shame. They attempted to make their way to bed, to put this all behind both of them. He refused to let them go, not until they had brushed their teeth and had something to drink to make sure they stayed healthy. It was the least he could do. He monitored them as they did so, nervously playing with his own hair to keep him distracted. He did this to them, he did. He should’ve been lust, making people fall for him, making people feel good, not terrified. He felt wrong.

“MC...I’m so sorry...can you tell me?”

If they weren’t already weak and dissociated from the situation, they might never have explained to him what happened, what someone had done. They left out explicit details, but he had heard enough. Lust wasn’t like that, was it? He wasn’t like that, was he? He’d change, he’d be better, he promised. He asked MC if it was okay if he gave them a hug. He almost cried when they said yes. He wrapped them up in the sweetest, safest hug a demon could give.

He doesn’t lay a single finger on MC without asking them first. He makes sure all the brothers do the same. Somehow, even when he’s not around, he’ll know if someone even bumped into them at RAD. Consent for everything and everyone, and if someone dares think otherwise, Asmo is not afraid to get his hands dirty. He moisturizes.

Beel

He’s not dumb by any means, but he’s just not the best at human behavior. He’ll associate MC with aspects of his brothers and just think that it’s normal. He loves his brothers, and he loves MC too, so the signs that should’ve been concerning didn’t click. The way MC liked to keep to themselves was just like Levi and Satan. The way they worked themselves too hard and seemingly didn’t have an enjoyment for more entertaining things, just like Lucifer. He’s almost too accepting, taking things that should’ve been problems into quirks, thinking that it just was the way MC was.

Then they exhibited the only symptom that concerned him. They stopped eating. They would have a bite, maybe two, and then pass it off to him. Of course he would eat it, they were putting his sin right in front of him and begging Beel to take it. Surely, humans needed to eat more. Surely they were hungry. After all, he was eating ten times more than them and he was still starving. It made the food in his mouth taste rotten.

He invited them to the gym. They could watch him workout, they would spend time together, and then afterwards he would take them to his favorite restaurants. That would make sure they ate. No one could say no to the kind of food the Ristorante Six figuratively and literally brought to the table. He thought somehow that would cure things. Food was his solution to everything. It made him happy and healthy and he wanted MC to feel the same.

He was thinking about his plan deep in his mind. He could see the both of them enjoying the best meal they would eat in their lives. He missed the sight of MC getting pale, swaying, wilting under the heat of the gym. He watched as they collapsed, and at that point no amount of food could’ve bribed him away from the problem any longer.

He got them home, in bed, trying not to tear himself up inside for not making an action sooner. Why did he not make sure they ate immediately? Why did he have to give in to his sin so easily? Why were they even doing this to themselves in the first place?

When they woke up, the first thing Beel was going to make sure they did was get something--anything--in their body. MC didn’t want that. They had spent days making sure they weren’t eating, they didn’t want it to be ruined. They didn’t want to, they couldn’t, so why was Beel forcing them? They grabbed his clothes and begged, pleaded with him not to make them eat. They were crying now, sending Beel’s mind spiraling. He knew they needed to eat, they needed nourishment, but he didn’t want to say no to them, force them to do something they didn’t want to. He was so torn, confused, why were they upset over something that would help them? All he could do is hold them as they cried, worried about the fact that they barely had the strength left to do so.

He left them momentarily to rest as he headed away to go ask Satan for more information. Turns out humans, in some cases, like to do things that hurt them. Being a demon, a creature that strives and exists for things that fulfill them and help them thrive, this turned his world upside down. First things first, he made sure they ate, whether they liked it or not. He had to do his best to ignore more crying and fighting. He wasn’t happy until something was in their stomach, smiling a bit as color finally returned to their face.

Now he’s aware of everything they do, taking notes of things they like, and relaying it all back to Satan to make sure it was safe. He has a real hard time making them upset, but he needs them to be okay, to be whole and happy. He can’t take food from them anymore. In fact, much to the surprise of the household, he refuses to eat unless MC does so. He won’t hesitate anymore.

Belphie

He knows too much about humans unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately in this case. After the human race’s endearing glow had faded, Belphie became too familiar with the darker and more upsetting parts that came with them. Mental illness being one of them. He remembers Lilith endlessly going on about how sad it was, how she wanted nothing more than to take their pain away. So, yes, he was probably the most aware out of all the brothers concerning MC’s condition.

He saw the same numb nonchalant look in their eyes as he had. The way they slept too much but went to bed much too late, if they even went to bed at all. They both sported the same dark circles under their eyes. MC had too much apathy and not enough energy to follow through with the few things they did care about. Yeah, it sounded just like him, but he was a demon, it almost came with the job. For humans, not only was it worrisome but he knew how dangerous it could be.

Did he do anything about it? No. He was sleeping too much and doing his best to avoid MC anyway. Why should they want help from someone like him in the first place? After what he did? Helping them was the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t want to end up hurting them further. Someone else would take care of it.

That’s what he thought, at least, until Beel invited MC for a sleepover in their room. Beel thought it would be fun for the three of them to hang out more, and Belphie didn’t have the heart nor the energy to say no to his twin. Things had gone fine at first, great even. They shared snacks, Beel going as far as making sure everyone got plenty to eat. They all watched a snooze-inducing amount of movies, Belphie spending most of the time switching between Beel’s and MC’s lap to sleep in. And at the end of it all, even the insomniac MC had gone to bed at a decent time. It was a night of fun with of them in a peaceful rest. Maybe Belphie didn’t have anything to worry about after all.

Until MC started screaming. The noise woke him and his brother up faster than anything ever had. MC had the blanket they were sleeping with tangled tightly around different parts of their body.They were covered in a terrible cold sweat, stuck in their nightmare as they did their best to wake up. They kept screaming someone’s name over and over again along with running ‘sorry’s and ‘no’s.

They ended up accidentally scratching their own face with their fingers in the panicked flailing, the pain still not waking them up from the terror. It took both Belphie and Beel to get them awake, and even then, they still weren’t out of the haze for a good while. Belphie’s chest throbbed in pain when he called out their name and they didn’t respond. When they looked into his face, there was no emotion attached to it. It was like they were somewhere else entirely. It was another few minutes before the look of recollection came back into their eyes, and then just after, those same eyes were filled with tears. While Beel did most of the immediate comforting, Belphie realized that this was the reason why they were tired all the time. It was hard to want to sleep and get good rest when nothing but torment awaited you in the night. He understood all to well, and he was sloth, he knew sleep, he could’ve helped them the most in his own element.

He felt it wasn’t his place, but while Beel had MC tightly in his arms, he came in from behind and rested his head against their back, his fingers digging gently into their pajamas. He buried his face into them, feeling every emotional shudder. MC cried so hard, they ended up falling asleep again, too exhausted to keep themselves conscious any longer. Beel picked them up, preparing to put them in his bed, but Belphie stopped him. He made sure MC was curled up by him, claiming it was only due to his much comfier and agreeable bed. Truth was, he was unable to rest soundly now without making sure MC was sleeping deeply, taking slow and even breaths.

He puts a little more effort into taking care of MC after that. He’s the demon of sloth, so he knows ways to deter night terrors and insomnia. If MC refuses to sleep, whoops he already gave them a bit of sleeping potion for tonight. They're going to have to deal with a demon dragging them into bed, clinging onto them so tightly they can’t move. He’s still learning how to do things a bit less demanding and over the top, but MC has been sleeping better lately.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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kz-i-co · 3 years

Text

Bad Temper

» Request: "Ok, so I was thinking of a One-shot about Reader and Wonho. The reader is part of their make-up team and she and Wonho have confessed to each other that they have mutual feelings, but that they cannot be together due to the circumstances of ruining their professional connections. And they decide to act like nothing happens and hope things just go back to normal. But one day Wonho snaps, because he thinks she is too flirty with Minhyuk and too close to Shownu, and confronts her about it. She gets angry and agues that she feels like Minhyuk is her smaller, Ray of sunshine brother and Shownu is just a very chill shoulder she can count on. That is where Wonho starts feeling bad about what he said and mentally slaps himself. He just destroyed anything he could possibly have with her and doesn't know how to fix it." - BlueOzzyD

» Pairing: Wonho x Reader

» Genre: angst x fluff

» Words: 2.1k

» A/N: PROOF OF HOW BACKED UP I AM WITH MY REQUEST (so embarrassed).......I got this request back when Wonho was still apart of monsta x. I know I'm sorry :( I only have a few left and I promise I'm still working on them. I haven't forgotten anyone.

» m.list | MX masterlist

"Okay take 5." The director spoke as the boys stepped off set.

You and the rest of the makeup artist began to wipe off any excess sweat from their face as the boys started to drink water. Wonho eyed you as you wiped off sweat from Minhyuk.

"Great dancing." You winked.

"Thanks (Y/N)." He smiled still trying to catch his breath.

You pulled out another wipe, patting down Minhyuk's sweaty face. He always had to make your job difficult by moving around.

"Great now you messed me up." You pouted going for another wipe not realizing there was no more. "I need to get more. Be right back."

You went to the storage room quickly and jumped from the sound of the door shutting behind you.

"I need to talk to you." Wonho spoke causing you to stress.

"Can't this wait until later? You guys have to be back on set in 3 minutes."

"Can we go out tonight? I'm off for the night."

You looked at him annoyed taking a deep breath, pulling your mask down. "You know we can't."

"Come on, I promise somewhere private." He begged.

"No I told you we can't. I already got a warning for "wandering off". If they find out, you and I would be screwed."

"I can't get you out of my mind." He leaned in closer.

"Try harder." You grabbed the pack and left him alone.

You hated seeing him so hurt but there was nothing you could do. You both signed a contract of no dating when you started this job. Wonho was at a successful level when it came to his career and you couldn't be the cause of it ending.

You were cleaning your brushes while you had some time before the boys came in. Nothing better then your favorite tunes playing in your ears while you had some alone time.

But your alone time didn't last long as you felt strong arms wrap around you, lift you up as you were spun in circles. You felt shaken as the sudden attack had you frightened from being unaware.

Once you were put down you looked up at your victims laughing only causing you to punch him weakly. "You ever do that again Shownu, I will end you."

You looked passed him as the other boys were watching and you couldn't help but notice Wonho's annoyed expression.

"I thought you were taking off today?"

"Change of plans." You shrugged. "Besides I don't want to miss the rest of your shooting."

"Thank god, and if I'm being honest..." Shownu leaned down closer. "I think you're the best artist here."

.....

"Okay last but not least, sit in my chair buff bunny." You said causing the other guys to laugh except the bunny himself.

"Guys you need to get into costume." The manager came in.

"I just need to finish Wonho's makeup real quick." You spoke as the rest of the guys already got up.

"Okay. No problem."

As soon as you two were alone, you were expecting Wonho to hit on you again but nothing. Nothing but silence.

"What's wrong with you?" You asked as he was blank from you doing his makeup.

He shrugged his shoulders silently.

"You're gonna make me pry."

"I just see how you are with the guys and then you ignore me. It makes me feel like I'm a jerk."

"I ignore you because I'm afraid of what might come out of my mouth." You shrugged. "We're both struggling here."

He grabbed you so you were leaning into him. "Please just give this a chance."

"I can't." You whispered as he came closer about to brush his lips against yours.

Before you could pull away, he desperately collided with you. Ever since the first time you hooked up, you felt like you were suffocating from hiding away your feelings.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you up into his lap as the kiss deepened by the second. His hands comfortably cradled your bottom, locking you in place.

He pulled away quickly and made his way down your neck, already pampering your skin.

"Wonho?" You heard Jooheon at the door.

"Fuck." You jumped off his lap and quickly started to panic. You pulled up your mask turning away from Wonho as Jooheon opened the door.

"We're going on."

"Be right there." You didn't turn towards them as you lowered your head in shame. "(Y/N)-"

"Stop. This can't happen again." You wiped your single tear. You couldn't lose this job, you couldn't.

The boys were lounging in the back and Minhyuk grabbed you forcing you to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you as he thanked the staff for making the shoot close to perfect. "Can you come to my house and do my makeup every day."

"Or I can just teach you how to do it yourself." You looked at him amused.

"(Y/N)....I need to talk to you now." Wonho got up annoyed and you immediately turned your head. "Please."

"What's the matter?" Shownu asked alarmed from the situation.

"It's fine Shownu. I just know how the buff bunny gets if I forget to replace his shakes."

"You make her do that?" Shownu asked.

"Don't worry, it's my job to serve for you guys." You got up following Wonho into the back.

"You can't act like that in front of everyone. They'll know what's up." You said as soon as you were alone.

"What is up with you and Minhyuk?" He asked.

"You're kidding me right?"

"No, I've seen the way you act with him....the way you two flirt together-"

"That's bullshit-"

"The way you two cuddle."

"You're so freaking-"

"And don't think I haven't notice Shownu. What happened the other night when I wanted to spend time with you and you didn't feel good - but then I found out from Shownu you were with him."

"I thought maybe it was nothing but how am I suppose to feel when you're hugging him after each take."

"You are seriously so stupid." You said upset.

"Is this what you do (Y/N), you lead guys on and just use them."

"You are such a jerk." You cried and walked out of the room.

You didn't know where this was coming from. Why was he acting this way? He was twisting everything.

The next few days you stayed away from the company until they granted you a transfer.

"Have you seen (Y/N)?" Shownu asked their manager. "We haven't seen her all week."

"She decided to leave the company."

"What?" Shownu said alarmed as Wonho stood up in shock.

He was quick to leave the room and make his way out of the building, taking the first taxi to your apartment, not even caring to let anyone know. He knocked on your door but it was clear you weren't home. He sat on your steps as he pulled his phone out trying to reach you but it went straight to voicemail.

He couldn't help but run his fingers through his hair frustrated. This was all his fault, he felt. He pushed you away when he was jealous and ignorant.

You sighed as you tugged your heavy purse along, crossing out your last number of the day. Your eyes glanced to your steps seeing Wonho look up suddenly alarmed and confused.

"What are you doing here?" You asked confused.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" He asked first.

"Because I blocked your number."

"Oh." He looked down. "I'm sorry for what I said."

"Thanks." You said sarcastically as you walked passed him unlocking your door.

"Let me help you." He reached for your book that had addresses crossed out as you struggled holding your keys. "You didn't have to leave the company." He noticed that you were job searching.

"Well I was transferred to cube and their management sucks so....-"

"No I mean.....please come back. I was wrong and stupid."

"You know what. Not only was I risking my job for you but to think I was hooking up with Minhyuk AND Shownu. That's pretty pathetic."

"I know and I'm sorry. I just snapped from how you were so open with them and I was jealous."

"You were jealous for nothing. They're like my brothers Wonho. It's obvious I liked you and I was afraid of getting caught."

"Liked?" He said his voice dropping.

"Well.....you hurt me."

"Please forgive me."

You sighed again as you finally got your door open, inviting him inside. "I'm not going back to starship, so don't bother begging me."

"Then let me at least help you find something else, I'll help you with money."

"I don't need your dumb idol reputation to help me find a job. No one's hiring at the moment, that's all."

He followed you to your kitchen. "You haven't touched your wine since that night?" He glanced over to your counter with a tall red wine bottle a quarter full.

Your eyes drifted to where he was referring to. "I don't usually drink so I have no interest in finishing it."

"What about now?" He asked stepping closer to you and you were quick to stop him. "Please."

"What part of no, do you not understand?" You shook your head.

"I understand that if you're not part of the company, what else is standing in our way."

"You don't get to come into my apartme-" He closed your lips with his.

It only took you a second to pull away and push him as far away from you as you could. "You're a jerk."

He looked at you as he was making you feel guilty but yet sensual. He placed his hand where you pushed him and tugged on the button that was already coming undone. You stared frustrated as he knew what he was doing to you. You wanted him and that was clear.

"I know." He whispered close to you as he came closer. "I'm sorry."

"Please go." You whispered.

"Would it help to say I'm im love with you?" He asked only a centimeter away from filling the space.

"You're not."

"I am."

"No because-" He pulled you into him once again not breaking the kiss as sudden.

You hummed to break away but he was quick to shut you down. The kiss grew more desperate the more you let him take control. You were defeated by this point. You loved him too, you always had but the circumstances were far from acceptable but now that you were out of the job, maybe your fantasy could become a reality.

"Please take me back." He broke away from the kiss as you finally could catch your breath.

"I'll support you....support us." He practically begged.

"I can't just not work."

"Then I'll find you something....just give me some time."

"But if you're caught dating at all, you'll-"

"I know. But you're more important." He gently brushed his lips against yours.

"I can't let you do that."

"Then we'll keep it a secret." He was clearly not letting you go.

"Ok." You softly smiled confirming, sending him kissing you once again but with more passion. He lifted you up, gently sitting you on the counter as the kiss grew deeper by the second.

"Please let me take care of you." He kissed down your neck and you nodded in acceptance. He lifted you up once again carrying you to your bedroom.

"I promise.....I'll make you happy." Was the last thing he said before closing your bedroom door and giving you a night to remember.

Sure, you had regrets....but you loved him and he loved you. It was just the risk you had to play with. Is love really worth it?

#wonho scenarios #wonho smut #wonho fanfic #wonho imagines #wonho fluff #ot7 #monsta x fluff #monsta x imagines #monsta x smut #monsta x fanfic

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twdeadfanfic · 4 years

Text

Bonded to you Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Chapter: 1/17

Summary: Daryl and reader had a something while they both stayed at the Sanctuary after the Saviours were defeated, a secret sort of relationship, that reader wanted to make something more. However, after Rick blows the bridge, Daryl leaves her without a word, unaware of her being pregnant with his child and it’s not after almost two years that Daryl finds out he has a child…and his anger at reader for not having told him before, rivals with reader’s anger at having being tossed aside as nothing by him those to years ago.

Dad Daryl, cute fluffy baby-toddler moments, angsty reader relationship.

You can find more Daryl fics in my masterlist.

The warmth of a body next to yours as you woke up was not surprising anymore, but the fact that the warmth came from Daryl always was. You still couldn’t believe that he’d sleep next you night in night out, that you both were…well, you didn’t know what you might be, but still, you appreciated this level of intimacy.

You felt Daryl stir as he woke up, and you tightened your hold on him. He was sleeping curled up, the same way he slept almost every night, and your arm was around him. He turned onto his back, blinking his eyes open and looking at you, grunting quietly something you didn’t understand.

“Morning,” you greeted, smiling. Daryl just nodded, sitting up on the bed and reaching out for his boots. “You’ll be careful today, right?” You asked while he put on his boots, stroking the hair at the back of his head. He was leaving for a run, a big and important one, with lots of other people, to a museum in Atlanta. You knew how skillful he was, but still, you worried nonetheless.

Daryl nodded again, looking at you over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said, voice still raspy. He made to get up, but then he turned to look at you again, leaning to give your cheek a quick, soft peck, before he got up and walked out of your room.

You let out a sigh, covering your eyes with your arm. What were Daryl and you, you wondered…certainly not what you really wanted you both to be…but more than you had dared to hope for, even if you hadn’t been able to stop your daydreams.

You had been living in Alexandria when he arrived, and soon you had found yourself crushing on that quiet, dark, mysterious…and well, really handsome guy. You had overcome your shyness to try to get to know him, half hoping that maybe once you knew him better, it’d break your crush, but oh boy…hadn’t it been the opposite.

It had been difficult and more than once your advances hadn’t seemed too welcomed, but over time, Daryl and you had become friends, and you had won his trust. You had made sure to keep quiet about your crush, though, not wanting to lose his hard-earned trust, sure he wouldn’t return your feelings. At least, until Rick had sent him to the Sanctuary, that horrible place where he had been tortured, and you had known you needed to go with him.

Daryl’s mood hadn’t been the best in there…it still wasn’t, but it was better. He used to snap at everyone, he was always angry, but you also knew he was traumatized, you knew what he had gone through in there, and you hated how you couldn’t do anything to help.

He had snapped at you, once, when you had complained about being scared of the way some saviors looked at you, yelling at you that then maybe you should go back home and, asking why you had gone there in the first place, and to just take your stuff and leave. Now you knew he had been worried, but back then, you had been broken-hearted at his outburst, and trying not to cry you had babbled to him how you were there because you worried for him, because you didn’t want him to be alone in the place where he’d been tortured, and because you’d miss him if he was away.

Daryl had seemed taken aback and you had felt so embarrassed and awkward that you had run away and hid in your room. Later, though, he had gone to your room and had actually apologized for snapping and had even thanked you for being there for him. And you…well, having him talk softly to you, thanking you, looking at you with kindness…you couldn’t help yourself from maybe ruining the situation and confessing that you also were there because you liked him.

It didn��t seem you hadn’t ruined anything, though, Daryl didn’t snap, didn’t seem angry or awkward, even though he was silent, looking down. Anxiously, you had waited for him to say anything, but he didn’t, instead, he walked to you and sat down next to you on the bed, still silent.

You hadn’t known what to say, still nervous, but then Daryl had looked at you and leaned in. You had thought he was going to kiss you, but he hadn’t, instead he had rested his forehead on yours, and it was so sweet, all your nerves had melted away while butterflies danced in your belly…and then, when you had dared to kiss his lips softly and he had kissed back, your heart had gone crazy…

And there you were now…still unsure about what Daryl and you were.

You knew he cared about you, in his own way, he made sure you were alright, and he treated you with care and kindness…but something else, something more? You weren’t sure.

Daryl liked to be with you, and he looked for comfort in you, in that horrible place, you knew it. He looked for you, waited for you two to be alone so you’d kiss him and hug him, and talk to him, listen to him. He joined you in your bed most times, snuggling to you or curling up with you holding him. But you weren’t certain he loved you in the way you loved him, and he didn’t seem interested in having an actual relationship, or that’s how it seemed most of the time. You didn’t even know. Even in the very couple of times that you two had had sex, he’d still seemed to look more from comfort than anything else.

Not that you didn’t enjoy to hold him, comfort him, and take care of him, and in return, having him do the same for you. But you were in love with him, and you couldn’t help but wish to have more. If only you knew what Daryl wanted too, what were his feelings, what he thought of all these…you knew you both needed to talk about it, but you didn’t look forward to it, afraid of how it could go, and of it maybe meaning you’d lose whatever you had with Daryl, and it seemed he didn’t look forward to it either.

You let out a sigh. There was no time to wonder about all that now, there was always shit to do at the Sanctuary, and with Daryl out, you wanted to do as many tasks as possible, take work off his already too heavy shoulders before he came back.

It was late in the day when Daryl came back, but not only him, also Rick, Michonne, Carol, the King, and some others…and looking at their faces and at how Daryl snapped at everyone, something bad must have happened. While Rick was giving one of those speeches of him, you quietly slipped close to Daryl, placing a hand on his arm and startling him until he realized it was you.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

“We lost a kid, from Hilltop,” Daryl rasped back, and you knew he was sad and upset, you could notice it, even if he was trying to contain it. You wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to comfort him, but you two didn’t show that kind of physical affection in front of people, and you still weren’t sure if Daryl didn’t want people to know that you two had…whatever you two had.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, squeezing his arm, your fingers lingering on his skin for a little longer than necessary, and he didn’t say anything else.

You were glad to see your old friends, you barely got to see them anymore now, but everything was tense and awkward after everything that had happened and at the Sanctuary situation, and so soon after dinner, you excused yourself and went to bed.

You waited for Daryl, he usually joined you, and you thought he needed some comfort after what had happened today, but you waited and waited and he didn’t, even when everything went silent around you. Any other night, you might have let him be, but you didn’t want him to be alone when you knew he was upset after a death like that and so you got up, and went looking for him.

As you had done some other times, you found him tinkering with a bike in the garage, doing you didn’t know what. He looked at you when the door opened, relaxing when he saw it was you, focusing back on the bike. You walked behind him and reached up to place your hands on his shoulders, rubbing.

“Are you okay?”

“You ask me that when we just lost a kid,” Daryl snapped and you muttered a sorry, but he looked at you, seeming to regret it, and he leaned to kiss you cheek. You slide your hands from his shoulders down his back, wrapping your arms around his middle, hugging him.

“Come to bed with me,” you whispered. “Please?” Daryl seemed hesitant, but finally he nodded and you held his hand, walking him to your bedroom.

Once there, you pushed him to lie down on the bed and you sat down straddling his hips. You looked at his face illuminated by the candlelight, running your fingers over his cheek, thinking once again how unfair it was that he always looked so handsome. Daryl nuzzled into your touch and you couldn’t help your smile.

“Maggie, she can’t be having-” he began, but you shushed him pressing a finger to his lips.

“No, stop.” You thought Daryl would snap, but he didn’t, not even when you removed your finger from his lips, and you traced his face with it softly. “Don’t think about that now. Just for a few hours. You need to sleep.” He slept too little, and you worried.

Daryl just hummed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again, and you had the feeling his mind wasn’t going to shut down easily that night. You brought your hands to his chest and hesitantly, you toyed with the buttons of his shirt, waiting for Daryl’s reaction. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t push you or stopped you when you began opening the buttons.

You ran your hands over the skin of his belly, up to his chest, looking at him, still unsure about him being on board with this. You leaned over him, kissing his lips softly before whispering into his ear, “Is this okay?” Instead of answering, Daryl sat up with you still on his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a content sigh when Daryl nuzzled into your neck, holding you tight. You thought you would never get used to it, to how tight he held you, the way he liked to snuggle, to be held, things you hadn’t really expected from him, not until you knew him alone like that.

You pushed his shirt off him, brushing one of your hands up his back, stroking warm skin and old scars, humming when he began placing soft kisses across your neck, his hand running under your own shirt…

Later that night, you were snuggled to Daryl’s chest, and you had almost fallen asleep when you heard him speak. “I told Rick I want to leave.”

It was no surprise, you knew how much Daryl hated it in here, what was surprising was why he had said yes to come here in the first place, but you knew he was always trying to help. “And what did he say?”

“Doesn’t want me to, said he ain’t got no one else to spare and sent here, or else wants me to help in Alexandria,” Daryl scoffed…yeah, you knew well why neither him nor Maggie would step in Alexandria.

“He can’t force you to stay here,” you said, looking up from Daryl’s chest. Rick might lead Alexandria, but he couldn’t force Daryl to do something he didn’t want, or you, or anyone else. “If you want to leave, then you should.”

“Yeah? Who’s gonna keep this shit place going then? Ain’t like Rostia and Eugine are here ‘cause they like it either, I go, bet they go too…”

“It’s Rick’s who wants to help this place, hence is problem. Not yours,” you said, and Daryl just hummed. You knew he wouldn’t do something that could damage his friends, though, and so you knew he’d stay, no matter what, and who knew what could happen if you left the saviors on his own again.

“Place’s gonna fall down sooner or later anyway, no matter shit what I do…” He murmured and you took his hand, kissing his knuckles before placing his arm around you and snuggling onto his chest again, caressing his skin gently, you didn’t know what else you could say that could help him, so you hope you could at least bring him some comfort.

Soon, though, you felt Daryl growing restless under you, and then he was carefully shifting you to lie on the pillow. You groaned, opening your sleepy eyes and reaching for him. “Where you going?”

“Smoke,” he rasped. “Sleep.”

You hummed, hugging the pillow to you and letting out a sigh before falling asleep…you didn’t feel like you were making a good job helping Daryl ease his worries that night…

You woke when you felt Daryl getting into the bed again. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you had slept for a long while, and the candles were already off, though for some reason Daryl was lighting them again to illuminate the room. “Took you long enough…” you murmured sleepily, curling up with your back to Daryl so the light of the candles wouldn’t bother you, to try and fall asleep again, but it seemed Daryl had other plans.

“Y/N,” he called quietly, running his fingers through your hair before pulling at you gently to make you roll and look at him. “Hey.”

“What?” You frowned, confused, as you blinked your eyes open.

“I was with Carol, she heard me speaking with Rick. Said she’s gonna stay here, take over the place for me, won’t let me say not.”

“Yeah?” You were sure that Rick would trust Carol to keep the Sanctuary in line. “That’s good.” You reached out to caress Daryl’s cheek, you knew how unhappy he was there, how much he wanted to leave.

“Hhmm hmm.” He nodded. “I’ll leave tomorrow to Hilltop.”

So he’d leave tomorrow…and you? You had gone to the Sanctuary only because of Daryl, you had no business in there, neither you cared for the place. You wanted to be wherever he was, with him. But what did Daryl want? He wasn’t saying anything…

Insecurity crept on you, as so often it did, you couldn’t help it. Yes, you knew you two weren’t a couple, that you two weren’t really together, but still…you slept next to each other, held each other, almost every night. You were there for him when he needed it, and he’d been there for you. Did that mean nothing? He would just leave you there without a second thought? You wanted to know what he thought about the whole thing.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked.

“Whatever you want.” Daryl shrugged without looking at you, doing nothing to ease your insecurities.

“But what you want me to do.” You insisted, more nervous than what you’d realized.

“You gotta do whatever you want.” He was still not looking at you, and it was rubbing you the wrong way.

“Daryl, I’m asking, answer me, what do you want me to do?” You shifted to sit in front of him, trying to get him to look at you, and he did glare at you.

“You want me ordering you around now like I’m your boss?” He scoffed, and insecure or not, you were starting to feel agitated.

“No, Daryl, I’m not saying that, I’m asking you, what do you want me to do!” You snapped.

“And I’m telling you, you do whatever the hell you want!” Daryl snapped back, getting on your nerves.

“Whatever the hell I want, okay, okay, sure…” You kicked the sheet off you, frustrated, and got up, trying to stop all those feelings, all those voices in your head that were making you feel awful, telling you that Daryl didn’t give a shit about what you might do, about not seeing you again. “Could go to Oceanside and sunbathe on the beach, why the hell not…what do I want? I want not to be in this shit place!”

“Then what are you doing here?” Daryl snapped again and you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve as you felt just angrier, your heart filling with sorrow.

“You know what I’m doing here.”

“I never asked you to come!”

“Oh, I know, I do know…” You nodded, turning away from him as you suddenly felt like crying. “You didn’t care what I did, I understand. I was no one.” You had been a friend, sure, but he had better friends. You had just been another Alexandrian. “But I thought things were different now. That you and I…” You shook your head without finishing your sentence. You had been so stupid, thinking Daryl might feel something for you, something else, something more… “But you don’t care, you’d leave and you wouldn’t care about what I do or if we don’t see each other again.”

“You know it ain’t like that…” Daryl murmured but you just scoffed, rubbing your eyes.

“You won’t give a shit what I do.” That was all you knew, all you felt, at that moment.

Daryl didn’t say anything, and you tried to get a hold of you, take control of your emotions. You were about to just leave the room when you heard Daryl letting out a long sigh and getting up from the bed, but you couldn’t look at him. Then you felt his arms around you, pulling you to him until his chest was against you back, his chin on your shoulder. “You know I’m thankful you came with me,” he murmured. “You know I give a shit,” he pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to your shoulder and you wondered if you knew. You guessed you did, but sometimes it was hard.

You turned on his arms to look at him. “Would you care if you leave and I stay here, or if I go to Alexandria or somewhere else where you aren’t?” You asked, voice small and tight. “Would you even miss me?” You forced yourself to ask, even if it made you feel embarrassed, shy, and stupid.

“’course I’d miss you,” Daryl whispered.

“Really? Don’t say it just because…” You couldn’t help but feel insecure, feel as if he might be saying it just so you would stop making a scene, but Daryl nodded, looking at you, eyes sincere. “Okay…” you whispered, giving him a small, sad smile, insecure still.

“But you don’t gotta do shit just because of me. You didn’t have to come to this shit place just ‘cause of me. Don’t have to go anywhere just ‘cause me,” he said, still sounding sincere, and you shook your head, smiling sadly again.

“I know. But I want to…’cause…” Because you loved him, but you weren’t going to say that. “’Cause I like to be with you…and because I care for you…” You shrugged, biting your lip.

“You know I care for you too…” Daryl murmured, taking you by surprise when he leaned to hold his forehead on yours, you couldn’t help but melt whenever he did that, no matter what. “I like to be with you too…” he whispered.

Daryl had said that he’d miss you…that he cared for you, liked to be with you. It was more than you had gotten from him in your time together, even if he showed you that he cared in his way, showed you that he might enjoy your time together, it wasn’t the same reassurance as hearing it. You were sure you’d never stop feeling insecure, you knew you’d never stop feeling that twinge in your heart at his feelings not being the same as yours, you knew that you’d never stop wondering when might be the day he’d decide to move on from you. But you would take whatever he wanted to give you. You would enjoy whatever you had, while it lasted.

You cupped his cheeks to lift his head and look at him. “I want to go to Hilltop with you,” you said quietly and Daryl nodded, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile. “Because I don’t want to be here. But also because I want to still be where you are…wherever that is.”

You felt shy again, embarrassed and a bit like an idiot too, saying something like that, and before Daryl could say anything, you kissed him, afraid of what he might say. He pulled you even closer as he kissed you back in that way he did sometimes that always managed to make you forget all your insecurities, worries, and fears for a while.

Eventually, you pulled back, taking his hand to guide you both back to bed. “Didn’t mean to make you upset,” Daryl murmured as he leaned over you on the bed, running his hand through your hair, looking at you in that soft way, as if he always knew what to do to make you melt, even if you knew he didn’t realize it.

“I know…I’m sorry…I just…” You shrugged, helplessly. You didn’t know how to explain it to him.

“No, I’m sorry,” he apologized too. “I didn’t mean to…to make you feel that way…just…” He seemed helpless too and you placed your finger over his lips. You wanted you both to stop apologizing. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, afraid that all your insecurities would creep right back in…and when Daryl looked at you in that way he did, you just couldn’t stop yourself from believing him when he said he cared, when he said he liked to be with you…you couldn’t help but love him like you did, even if it hurt too.

You removed your finger from his lips, instead running it across his cheek. “I know how you can make it up to me…” You murmured, pulling him closer again to kiss his lips, glad when you felt him smiling as he kissed you back.

First chapter of my new long series! I know, not baby yet, but first I had to get the girl pregnant, haha.

If you liked this and have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in a comment. Your comments, likes and reblogs inspire me to keep going when Iike giving up!

I want to give a special thanks to @ddixons-angel for listening to me when I got stuck writing this and helping me see reader’s side of things when I’m always too much in Daryl’s mind, and for giving me advice and not complaining when I end up doing whatever I want anyway.

As always, excuse my english, is not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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