#Anyway not that it negated anything I’ve felt and still feel about her personal life and the pain of it and the way that fame | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chateautae · 3 years

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maybe i do | kth. III

➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)

➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!

chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”

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“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.

How incredibly wrong that was.

“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned.

“Good. You?”

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.

“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.

“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.

Anything but you.

“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.

You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.

Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice.

“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.

Disappointment.

She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter.

Typical.

“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?”

“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase.

And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater.

Your mother.

“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother.

“What do you mean?”

“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you.

“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting.

You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes.

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.

“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago.

“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into.

An argument.

“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated.

“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”

“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.”

“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.”

“Excuse me? Definition?”

“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two.

“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back.

“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!”

“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”

“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt.

You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier.

“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering.

“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?”

“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.

“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.

“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it.

“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air.

Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.”

If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.

Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided.

But this, this was where your mother won.

Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading.

To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours.

It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable.

“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!”

“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!”

“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression.

You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”

This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face.

You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound.

It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known.

“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this.

Not at something as undeserving as your mother.

“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you.

A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke.

“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.”

Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?”

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.”

“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended.

“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way.

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands.

She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face.

It was too much, she was too much.

Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.

Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life.

Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.

It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother.

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm.

Taehyung.

You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying.

Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you.

And it didn’t work.

Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door.

He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity.

He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home.

Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study.

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home.

More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways.

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of.

He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you.

“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature.

Taehyung grimaced.

“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.

He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.

“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.

“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”

Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good.

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him.

He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother?

This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true.

They simply weren’t.

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest.

There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you?

It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true.

Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”

“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”

And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer.

Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it.

Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you.

What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now.

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all.

It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife.

Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this.

He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce.

Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy.

He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.

He knew nothing about you.

He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to.

He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.

And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him.

So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened.

But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you.

So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase.

You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them.

You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride.

Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this.

Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.

“Y/N?”

You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?”

Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air.

“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.

“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.

“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.

“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.

And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.

Until your last braincell kicked in.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.

And you knew he knew.

“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest.

It was fucking poetic.

“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.”

“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.

It was odd.

“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.

“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.

You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression.

“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge.

He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.

It couldn’t be real.

But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.

You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side.

“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.

So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.

Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t.

“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless.

“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered.

“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”

“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true.

Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away.

And he still fucking hated it.

Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so.

“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.

You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.

Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.

“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.

“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-”

“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar.

And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago. You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.

Especially if it meant him.

“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word.

Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before.

And you really did like the way he smiled.

He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.”

“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again.

“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.”

You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted.

“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you.

Did he just call you pretty?

You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face.

Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this.

“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.

“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.

Those fucking eyes.

Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.

He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was.

And he suppressed a stupid grin.

Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.

Cute, he thought.

He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.

He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.

He was just so beautiful.

You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.

“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms.

You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.

Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work.

You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.

You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.

That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.”

“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.

It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling.

“Hm?” You looked up.

“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news.

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.

You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”

You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event.

“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.

“I know, I bought one for you.”

You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?”

“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”

You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.

“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.

“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”

“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife.

“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered.

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.”

“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.

“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time.

“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself.

“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”

“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence.

Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late.

“Oh shit, I have to go.”

“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name.

“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving.

“Yes?”

“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house.

Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it.

You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed.

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label.

Chanel.

You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain.

It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp.

Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear.

You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt.

Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it.

Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead.

It was bordering 6:30 now.

You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people.

It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding.

And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos.

Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.

You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’.

It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife.

So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung.

You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves.

The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin.

You couldn’t stop blushing at all.

Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.

“I’m in our room!”

He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it.

He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through.

He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly.

His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone.

And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life.

He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.”

You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.

“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?”

“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung.

You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.”

You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches.

He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.

And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other.

He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment.

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe.

“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too.

“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off.

“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent.

Peonies.

He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.

“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome.

This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.

“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.

“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.

You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car.

He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete.

You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.

You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people.

Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check.

“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene.

“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you.

You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again.

And again, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers.

You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown.

He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today.

It was probably better to stay silent.

So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you.

This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway.

And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?

You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.

“Kiss her!”

It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.

“Y/N, look at me.”

“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.

He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile.

And it damn well worked.

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala.

Huge.

It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected.

It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you.

You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.

He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies.

Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs.

“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.”

Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.

“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark.

“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his.

“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.” A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.

“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted.

“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one.

“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly.

“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.

“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit.

“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy.

“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious.

He almost felt like the sun.

“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information.

“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two.

“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.

“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark.

“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest.

He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy.

The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun.

“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun.

“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised.

“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back.

“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.”

“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized.

“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.”

“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.

“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.

“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed.

You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?”

“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point.

“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect.

“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes.

“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone.

“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled.

“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group.

You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly.

Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.

“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation.

“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered.

“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone.

“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered.

Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose.

It was refreshing.

“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker.

“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others.

“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical.

“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi.

“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along.

“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush.

“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased.

“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing.

“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you.

You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him.

You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident.

Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether.

He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you.

“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering.

What would you say?

“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again.

He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned.

And he oddly felt.. nice.

“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction.

“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him.

“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully.

“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting.

“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.

Until Taehyung spoke.

“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.”

The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you.

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side.

“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!”

And it only made the men crack up even harder.

It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant.

It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall.

You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met.

Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings.

It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles.

That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura.

“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard.

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself.

“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed.

“Taehyung, who?”

“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up.

Something was seriously wrong.

You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him.

“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies.

Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type.

“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.

It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand.

“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever.

Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.

“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you.

“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both.

“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly.

“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.

“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice.

“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him.

“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy.

“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.

“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.

“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?”

Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.

You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety.

Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.”

This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Oh, so she talks.”

You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.

“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that.

“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.

“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.”

“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash.

“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes.

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot.

Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened.

“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins.

But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name.

“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.

Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible.

He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.

“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him.

Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve.

You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move.

“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.

“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.”

Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.

“Tae-”

“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it.

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves.

“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”

“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly.

Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady.

“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?”

“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again.

Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you.

“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly.

“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.

“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him.

“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass.

“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”

“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.

“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said.

And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought.

“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face.

“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?”

“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth.

Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest.

You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.

It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it

You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now.

Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.

It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries.

But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips.

He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk.

Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway.

“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?”

“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you.

“Okay, we’re coming.”

“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it.

Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully.

“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.

“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt.

You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were.

Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it?

Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips.

Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes.

He said they were nice.

You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.

It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it.

And you already felt doomed.

You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy.

“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired.

You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.”

“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up.

“..Yes.” You answered confused.

The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.”

Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever.

You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.”

“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together.

“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond.

They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought.

“What exactly are you trying to get at?”

“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.”

You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up.

“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened.

“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation.

With a snarky last word.

“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething.

You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth.

“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.”

“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood.

Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table.

Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes.

Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.

“I said nothing.”

Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.

And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces.

Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you.

He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him.

He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid.

“Nothing, Taehyung.”

Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?”

“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter.

Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason.

Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan.

It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.

“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them.

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?”

“Yeah, too long!”

“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them.

The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully.

“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face.

“Actually, I didn’t.”

Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?”

“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”

“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous.

“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.”

Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.

“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave.

“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them.

Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”

Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself.

You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.”

You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.

And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.

So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you.

“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think.

Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now.

He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it.

“People are watching?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self.

“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second.

Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace.

You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips.

Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks.

You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened.

Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue.

He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him.

“You called me Tae, you know.”

“What?”

“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.”

And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot.

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ao3komorii · 3 years

Text

About Time (Timeskip Dimitri/Reader)

Decided to start transferring my works over, starting with my oldest oneshot from ao3 with Dimitri! It’s technically Dimileth since I like the Dimitri pairing from Byleth’s position, but it’s fully in 2nd person and I don’t use any names for Reader or anything.

This oneshot was entirely born from having a thought of “what if Dimitri accidentally saw Byleth’s boobs and then freaked out.” Also, this one is set after Dimitri comes out of his emo phase, but before the final battle in the BL route. Just a note, there is sex at the end. Enjoy :)

----

You did not find yourself in over your head much anymore these days, but you also had a talent for finding new trouble.

You had been backed into a corner by multiple soldiers, and a horrible giant beast. The beast’s jaw opened slowly, revealing its gleaming teeth, dripping with a black substance as the soldiers by its side advanced, lances drawn and all pointed towards you. The Sword of the Creator at your side was growing weary, and you knew that it would not be enough to defeat the enemies in front of you.

You knew that your former students were on the battlefield somewhere, but you couldn’t see them beyond the great beast that caged you in by the wall. Either way, this was too dangerous a situation for them anyways. You could only hope they would stay away. Use the chance to escape while this creature feasted on your flesh and gnawed on your bones. You didn’t want to die, but you would not allow yourself to be the cause of any of your students’ deaths. It would break you. If anyone had to die, it should be you.

You held up your sword, ready to fight back, but the onslaught still overwhelmed you. You were able to quickly take out a few soldiers with the last remaining swipe of your mythic sword’s power before their lances got too close to you. You had no time to bask in your small victory as your sword refused to spring into action after your first swipe, only functioning as an average sword, and a dull one at that, as it lost all its power. And with its elongation use now locked away from you, you would only be able to defend yourself from close range.

This immediately proved deadly for you, as you swerved to avoid the creature’s teeth, but found yourself on the receiving end of an enemy’s lance as it sunk in and out of your shoulder. You screamed with pain and shock as you sunk down to your knees, dropping your sword to press a hand over your wound. It hurt so badly, and you looked up as a shadow loomed over you to see the monster and remaining soldiers all radiating with the satisfaction that they were about to snuff your life out. You couldn’t even gather the strength to pick your sword back up, the pain in your shoulder was too great. Even moving your hand sent unbearable jolts of pain up and down your arm. You could do nothing but watch, eyes drawn to the lance of the soldier that had stabbed you, what must be your blood dripping off the tip and onto the ground.

You felt all hope leave your mind as the abomination’s jaw opened wide, preparing to blast you with fire. Too weary to continue looking up, you turned your head down in defeat, hoping that your death would at least come fast. You heard a loud shout, but it was not enough to keep you from falling on your side, no strength left in your body to allow you to remain up. Your eyes slid closed, and death felt imminent.

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. There were sounds of screams and horrible growls, but you didn’t know what they meant, and couldn’t really rationalize anything but the extreme pain you felt. There was so much screaming and so much pain. It was hard to even think at all.

“Professor!”

A voice broke through your haze at about the same time you felt the pain lessen by a small fraction. You heard your name called, with more insistency, and you felt annoyed. You just wanted the pain to end so you could sleep. The pain was so great that in that moment you didn’t mind dying if it would end the pain.

“If she falls unconscious, we won’t be able to save her!” You heard a soft-voiced woman assert.

“Professor!” the calls of your name and title got louder, and more insistent, and your forehead felt wet as one voice rang out louder than the rest. “Please, Professor, I can’t lose you too...”

The pain lessened a little more, becoming less all-encompassing, and you allowed your eyes to open. You found your vision blurry until a warmth took over the feeling of pain in your shoulder. A call of your name focused your attention directly above you.

Dimitri was crying. It was the first thing that struck you as you gazed up at him, tears freely flowing from his uncovered eye. His eye lit up when you looked at him, and you felt the world beneath you shift.

“Dimitri!” an airy voice angrily broke the quiet. “Don’t move!”

You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your shoulder and sending a wave of pain through it as you went limp against Dimitri’s lap, where you found yourself realizing that your head was resting in. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before.

“Professor, not you too! You must not move!” the woman insisted.

Your mind felt clearer once the pain faded again to a dull ache and the warm feeling took over. You realized at once who that voice was, and you opened your eyes to look at Mercedes, who was by your injured shoulder sending healing magic into the wound. That explained the familiar feeling that you couldn’t place. She met your gaze, unable to form her usual smile as she turned back to focusing on your wound. That confused you, and you turned your head ever so slightly to look at your injury without agitating it again.

You understood Mercedes’ current urgency. Your shoulder looked horrible. There was a large rip in the shoulder of your cloak, likely ripped further by Mercedes in an effort to get better access to the wound. There was so much blood, it matted the ripped fabric around your wound to your skin, making the area feel sticky.

Most worrying was the blood nearest to the wound, if it was even your blood, was bleeding an oily black. Mercedes wiped a hand over the wound, clearing it to reveal a patch of gray skin surrounding the stab wound.

“What is that?” Came Ashe’s panicked voice.

“The enemy’s lance was poisoned, clearly,” Felix stated with a short glance behind him.

You looked beyond where you were to realize that the area behind where you lay was covered in the bodies of the enemies that had just been closing in on you. The great beast was killed with no mercy, some of its limbs meters away from its actual body. You couldn’t stand to look at what was done to the Imperial soldiers; some with deep slashes, charred, or with arrows sticking out of their heads. It looked horrible, but not unusual for the battles you regularly faced.

“But poison couldn’t work this fast!” Annette protested.

“I’ve heard of weapons being enchanted with poison before,” Ashe explained.

“Enchanted with poison...” Dimitri echoed, expression tense. “What does it look like to you, Mercedes?”

Mercedes looked up from your wound to meet Dimitri’s eyes, but quickly looked back down. “Her wound isn’t responding to my magic. If we don’t do something, I fear she may die.”

Mercedes looked sad and scared, but Dimitri’s growl brought your attention back to him in an instant.

“There has to be something we can do to save her!” His desperate gaze morphed into one of hatred, one you thought you had seen the last of after Rodrigue’s death. “Tell me who I must kill and I will do it.”

“Spoken like a boar,” Felix interjected. “You think she has the time for you to go on a murderous rampage?”

“Felix...” Ingrid protested lowly and sadly.

“Then what would you have me do, Felix?” Dimitri replied, anger clear in his voice. “She is dying, you can’t expect us to do nothing!”

“I expect you not to-” Felix started.

“Stop it!” Annette cried. “You guys need to listen to Mercie!”

Mercedes nodded toward her best friend as Felix and Dimitri reluctantly went quiet. “There is one way to save her, but we will need everyone’s help.”

“Me and Mercie came up with a plan!” Annette smiled softly at Mercedes, expression belying a reluctant confidence. “Healing magic can��t touch it, but regular magic should be able to negate its effects enough for healing to work on it again!”

“And the only magic strong enough to fend off this dark poison is Annie’s fire,” Mercedes explained. “Annie will burn off the infection, and then I will heal the wound.”

“You want to burn her?” Sylvain implored, shocked. “I know she’s tough, but...”

“We don’t have the time to think of any other solution,” Ingrid said sadly, gesturing towards you. “Grey is spreading down her arm.”

Everyone’s eyes shot over to your arm, and you lazily swept your gaze over as well to see that the grey skin tone had travelled down your arm, halfway towards your elbow. The grey patches looked rough, and unlike any affliction you had ever seen before. You wondered if the Imperial army had been exploring darker methods to kill than simple weaponry and monsters. It didn’t surprise you, but you should have seen it coming.

“What do we do...?” Ashe asked quietly, as if he wasn’t ready to hear the answer.

“You all must hold her down while Annette burns the infection away,” Mercedes answered. “It will be very painful, but if she moves, she could get hurt, so you must keep her still.”

Dimitri looked torn as he brushed some stray hairs from your face. Even through the excruciating pain, the gesture embarrassed you. Dimitri looked to be mentally weighing options as a stray tear slipped from his chin to drop on your neck. The tear was a momentary relief, a distraction, but Mercedes couldn’t keep you from feeling all the pain in your shoulder, her healing magic seemingly less and less effective by the second as the pain began to grow stronger.

“Professor,” Dimitri said, trying but failing to keep emotion out of his voice. “What do you want us to do?”

You didn’t trust your ability to talk at the moment, and so you kept eye contact with him and nodded the best you could, which ended up being two slow rises and falls of your head. You could only hope that he understood what you were trying to say. He stared at you for a few seconds before he broke eye contact.

“Dedue, Felix, take her legs,” he instructed, and the two men moved quickly towards your lower half. “Ingrid, Sylvain, take an arm each.”

The four requested students each their place at one of your limbs, and Dimitri slowly let you out of his lap, your head now resting on the ground as he made his way over to Annette and Mercedes by your injured shoulder. “I will ensure she does not move her shoulders.”

“Um...” Ashe spoke up hesitantly. “It’s not much, but I brought along a book I’ve been reading, and she might need something to bite down on, so she doesn’t bite off her tongue.”

He offered the book to Dimitri, who accepted it gratefully, and with no choice, you bit down on it when Dimitri brought it to your mouth. You would have been embarrassed if you weren’t so anxious about the somehow worse pain to come. At Dimitri’s signal, your legs and arms were restrained, ensuring that you could not move them at all. When he checked that everyone had a secure hold on you, Dimitri put one hand on your uninjured shoulder, and one on your upper chest, just above your breasts. His head was just above yours, his long hair tickling your cheeks.

“Just keep looking at me,” he whispered, voice then rising in volume. “Annette, now.”

Annette didn’t reply, but she didn’t have to. Seconds after Dimitri’s words, you felt the worst pain you have ever felt in your entire life, putting the extreme pain from before to shame. You wanted to scream, but you knew you shouldn’t, even in your haze of pain. You just bit down on the book as hard as you could to compensate. Someone held one of your hands and you squeezed their hand as hard as you could, which must have been painful, but they didn’t pull away or let go of your hand.

A whisper of your name had you looking back up to Dimitri’s face. He looked fairly upset, but the intense levels of pain you were experiencing kept you from being able to reassure him. He smiled, a clearly forced smile, but didn’t look away from you at all, which gave you no insight into how it was going with your shoulder aside from the momentous pain, which was so hot that it now felt cold. The pain was so white hot that you had to close your eyes, teeth digging into the book’s cover.

“You’ll be alright, professor,” Dimitri said quietly. “We can’t lose you.”

You knew that your students would be destroyed if you died here. You knew that they would all fall apart. So you endured the pain quietly, you had no other choice. You couldn’t leave them alone after all you had all been through. You tried to stay still, but suddenly the brutal pain increased tenfold. You screamed around the book, trying to thrash your limbs, but your students remained steadfast, restricting your movement.

“Annette!” Dimitri barked, taking his gaze from you but not his hands, which kept you pressed down.

“I’m sorry, it’s... it’s fighting against my magic! Professor, I’m so sorry!” she replied tearfully.

“We have to keep going, Annie,” Mercedes’ voice broke through the panic. “She has no chance if we don’t keep trying!”

With that, the incredible pain returned, and you once again regained the unpleasant taste of the book cover in your mouth as your teeth sank into the dents you had made previously. Everyone was so quiet while Annette and Mercedes worked that you could hear everyone’s breathing, and Dimitri sounded close to hyperventilating with how heavy his breaths sounded. You looked up at him, but he was looking over at your injury, not at you. He looked like he was about to cry again, and it being due to your strategic negligence was weighing on you at the moment.

He wouldn’t look at you and looked openly panicked. You thought he would eventually feel your eyes on him, but he didn’t. He just continued to stare at the work being done on your shoulder, which you couldn’t see yourself because Mercedes and Annette blocked your sight of it entirely. You were getting used to the horrific pain at this point, so you managed to remain still. Maybe Sothis helped with your pain tolerance, since you knew that even with the pain levels you had experienced in your life, an average person could not possibly remain as still as you were able to during this kind of a procedure.

“Mercie!” Annette cried.

At once, the burning started to fade, as the familiar feeling of Mercedes’ magic took over, engulfing your shoulder in a light so bright that you turned your head away from it and closed your eyes. There were gasps and murmured words all around you and all at once you had a range of movement in your limbs again as everyone released their tight holds on you. Dimitri, however, kept his hands where they were, and you assumed he would wait until he knew that you would be okay.

Annette and Mercedes finally backed up from your sider, allowing you a glance at your shoulder. There was nothing, not even a scratch, or the third-degree burns you were expecting from the fire magic. The grey patches of skin had receded entirely with Annette’s eradication of the strange poison magic. You were in awe of Mercedes’ magic, but you were far from the only one who was.

“Remind me not to get too far away from you on the battlefield, Mercedes!” Sylvain joked.

Sylvain’s words brought Dimitri out of his stupor and he finally released his hold on you as you reached a hand up to remove the now soggy and dented book from your mouth. You weren’t sure what to do with it since Ashe would clearly not want it back now.

You sat up as everyone else began standing up, your muscles screaming in protest. From the pain that riddled your shoulder from all that had been done to it to the soreness in your limbs from being held down by people who put all of their strength into keeping you still, you were in pain, but not deathly pain. You waved off the chorus of worried voices asking if you were okay; you were just sore, not dying!

Ignoring their protests, you slowly stood up, only for an arm to slide around your waist. Ready to scold Sylvain for choosing now of all times to flirt, you looked over to see a stubborn Dimitri gazing back at you, frowning with concern. It wasn’t like he had no caring before you were able to bring him out of his ten-year thirst for revenge, but he almost went overboard with how much he showed that everyone mattered to him now. And with that knowledge, you knew you weren’t about to win whatever argument he was about to start about your safety.

“Be careful, Professor!” he chided, refusing to let go of your waist even as were found you were able to stand properly. Not without soreness, but properly enough. “You can ride back to the monastery with me.”

You could walk just fine... probably. Your hesitation to accept must have shown on your face, because it started another bickering war.

“She’s fine without you being a mother hen,” Felix stated dryly.

“Felix!” Dimitri admonished, not removing his hold on you. “She was barely alive moments ago, and you want her to walk all the way back to the monastery?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, her shoulder is fine. Do you think she wants you to baby her when she spent months trying to get you to behave like a person and not an animal?” Felix retorted.

You would rather try to walk, to help preserve your pride, but you didn’t have the chance to speak up before the two started fighting. You weren’t sure how to break up this fight before it got worse, but luckily it was resolved for you.

“And you two think arguing about this is going to make her feel better?” Ingrid said angrily, making her way over to you. “She will ride back with me.”

Felix scoffed and turned away, while Dimitri went silent, allowing Ingrid to put your arm around her neck as she led you over to her waiting pegasus. You would have time to thank everyone for their help later. The whole experience and then the arguing had tired you out, and you just wanted to rest. So you got on the pegasus ahead of Ingrid and allowed her to take you back to the monastery, where you could get some sleep and recover.

You were pushing yourself too hard and you knew it. You were still unhappy with how you had fared in the battle with Imperial troops a week before.

And here you were, a few days later, training in the rain in the forest just outside the monastery. You had been swarmed by the students worrying about you, and your sword hand was itching to get back into practice. Nobody would agree to train with you due to your being in recovery, and Dimitri had insisted that you rest immediately, somehow even more protective of you than he had been when you were actually injured. You understood their worry, but it was getting tiring being told to rest, so you went to practice outside of the monastery to avoid everyone’s worry.

Just your luck that it was raining, but there were battles still to be fought, so you couldn’t slack on your training. You were going stir crazy, and so you found a dead tree and began practice. The dead tree was considerably more dead looking several hours later, now bearing many stabs and slashes across it. You finally took a break and sat against the tree, surrounded by bark that littered the ground around you, dislodged from your training.

You swiped a hand under your bangs with disgust. You hadn’t realized how sweaty you had gotten, but it felt nice to do some solo training the way you used to before you became a teacher. You were tired but felt assured that you were maintaining your sword skills even after sustaining such an injury. The rain was pouring even harder now, though you hadn’t noticed until you took a break. It must have been evening now, but with the harsh weather, it was hard for you to tell at all. The rain didn’t bother you, so you continued to lean against the tree, clothes totally soaked, but feeling at peace in that moment.

You knew you couldn’t stay out there forever, and so you finally sheathed your sword and stood up. Casting one last glance at the dead and beaten tree, you set back off towards the monastery. Nobody else was outside due to the awful rain, and even the merchants had temporarily closed shop. The gatekeeper, determined to do his job regardless of weather, was just under the archway and greeted you with surprise, noting your soaking wet form. You gave him a smile and reassured him that you were alright, and then continued on your way back to your room to rest for the night.

Your route back to your room took you through the entryway where you were greeted by various students and members of the church alike, who all noticed your current condition. You walked by them with a smile, brushing off their questions, until you passed by Dedue, who was just outside the dining hall. Or you tried to, as he casually stepped in your way, causing you to stop short to avoid bumping into him. You looked up at him, confused.

“Professor,” he greeted. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, not sure where this was going as you went to go into the dining hall, and he moved to block your way again. “His Highness has been looking for you.”

“...why?” you asked. You had seen Dimitri earlier, so what had happened in the past few hours that he needed you for?

“No one has been able to find you for the past eight hours,” Dedue answered. “His Highness is worried.”

Past eight hours? It had only been a few hours... at least, that was what you had thought. You had been told before that you got really focused when you trained, but you didn’t think you had taken four hours, let alone double that time!

You thanked Dedue for the information, and he only moved out of your way when you agreed that you would go meet Dimitri immediately outside your room, where Dedue told you the king had decided to wait for your return. Heaving a mental sigh, you crossed through the crowd of people getting a late dinner and made your way to your room. Just getting to the block of rooms, you noticed the broad figure with unruly blonde hair right where Dedue said he would be. Looking at his figure, you remembered your initial shock at his transformation, but it had been overpowered at the time with relief that he was still alive after five years of war. As if he could hear your footsteps over the sound of the rain, he turned his head to face you as you made your way over to him.

“Professor... where were you?” he asked, and you couldn’t think of what to reply, so he pressed onward. “You think me reckless, but you go out to train in the pouring rain when you are not yet fully recovered?”

You were surprised; how did he know? You must have looked startled because his serious expression melted away with a genuine laugh as he reached a hand out to brush along your hair, or so you thought. He brought his hand away from your hair to show you and you stared at the twig that he held in his hand, the bark of the twig rotten and dead, much like the tree it had come from.

“I can’t think of any other activities you would do in the rain with your sword at your side and end up with this twig in your hair,” he remarked. “You know, it usually is the professor that lectures their students about working too hard.”

“You haven’t been my student in a long time,” you mused.

“You may not be officially our professor, but we all rely on you for so much,” he replied thoughtfully. “You cannot expect us to not worry when our professor works herself to the point where she is liable to pass out from exhaustion in the woods without telling anyone where she has gone.”

You immediately felt sheepish. He really had you there. You wouldn’t be able to face them if you had been abducted or killed when you had told nobody where you were going or what you were doing.

“Please don’t look like that,” he implored you. “I am not mad. We just don’t want anything to happen to our favorite professor.”

It seemed like they would all keep calling you professor, even though you were all equals now. You had some really stubborn former students, you mused with a smile. Dimitri then reluctantly allowed you off the hook so you could get some rest. You both said your goodnights as you went into your room and Dimitri left for his. As you stripped yourself of your heavy, wet cloak and armor and climbed into your bed, you resolved to be a little less reckless with your training. You also wondered how long you could keep such a promise in times such as this.

It was hot. So hot. It was all that consumed your mind and body. Suddenly you realized that you had woken up. And you were only wearing a top and shorts, but you were burning up. With a groan, you assessed the situation. You felt sluggish, and so, so warm. Your throat felt sore and sitting up in your bed made you feel nauseous, so you quickly laid back down. You had to face facts; you were clearly sick.

You knew it had to be the rain. You were outside in the rain for eight hours and overexerted yourself. The combination was a bad idea, but unfortunately you did not see it like that at the time, so here you were. Sick and feeling miserable, unable to get out of bed for fear of throwing up. You didn’t even know what time it was, but you knew that being awake was doing you no favors. You didn’t feel like being awake in this state anyways, so you had only one choice. Gardening and tea parties would have to wait until you didn’t feel like you had just drank poison.

The feverish heat you felt kept you from sleeping however, which made you even more miserable. Feverish and now irritated that you couldn’t get to sleep, you decided to just remove your top and chest wrappings, your shorts taken off as well for good measure. You had never slept in just your underwear at the monastery before for fear of someone barging in your room without knocking, but at this point you didn’t care. Seteth’s lectures about propriety be damned. You just wanted to be less overwhelmingly warm, and so you laid back down in just your underwear, not bothering to put the blanket back on and curling up in the hopes that sleep would finally come.

“I’ve had that one before! Remember when we had that visiting professor at the sorcery school? I think she made these for us!” Annette exclaimed excitedly.

Mercedes nodded as she flipped the page of the new sweets book they had purchased at the market, and they both stared curiously at the next page.

“Ooh, I always wanted to make some of those!” Annette said, pointing at the colorful pastries that were illustrated on the page.

“Me too, Annie! We really should make some to share with everyone,” Mercedes replied.

Their excited chatter was interrupted as Dimitri strode by their table in the dining room for what Annette estimated was likely the fifteenth time that day. He had hardly eaten what would be considered a basic nutritional amount of dinner before he resumed his cycles around the monastery.

“Dimitri!” Annette called out to him as he was about to pass them to leave the dining hall, and he stopped in front of them. “ Mercie and I were thinking of making some sweets and having a little party with everyone!”

Dimitri seemed distracted as he responded. “Oh, Annette... that would be...”

“Are you alright, Dimitri?” Mercedes interjected. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

“Oh...” Dimitri replied stiffly, coming out of his thoughts for a moment. “Has the professor been by here?”

“No,” Mercedes shook her head. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Is she okay? Do you want us to help look for her?” Annette pressed, sweets book all but forgotten in worry.

“She should be fine...” Dimitri trailed off. “Sorry for bothering you both, your idea sounds wonderful.”

And before either woman could protest, Dimitri exited the dining hall in a hurry, not even glancing behind him, cape fluttering with his movement. Mercedes and Annette could only watch in a haze of confusion and concern, their questions unanswered.

If you were out training in secret again after overworking yourself in the rain the previous day... no, Dimitri dismissed the thought. He had already looked in the forest and located the tree that you had cut to ribbons the day before. You could have gone farther into the forest, but he thought that unlikely as well. You had seemed regretful when the two of you had spoken at your door the night before, and he thought it unlikely that you would immediately break a promise to him, especially after he had told you how much you and your health mattered to all of them.

It occurred to him just then that he had neglected to check your room. It should have been the first place he checked, but it had slipped his mind. He would have to go check now. You may have decided to relax in your room for the day, and then he would have been worrying for nothing. Although he knew that you had a healthy appetite, but nobody had seen you in the dining hall at all, which was very strange.

There was nobody at the dorms, or if they were, they must have been inside their rooms. Dimitri was able to arrive at your door with no hassle, but he couldn’t hear any sounds from inside. He knocked politely, but to no response at all.

“Professor?” he called out as he knocked again, louder this time.

There was still no reply, which vexed him. If you didn’t want to see anyone, you would have replied to inform him of that. Which left only one thought running wild in his mind; you must have gone out to train and been injured. Or been injured yesterday and were now in too bad or a state to even talk. Once the thought entered his mind, he was consumed with worry. Reaching out and finding the door locked, he did not spare any thought before he slammed his shoulder into the door, bursting open the lock. Without a moment to spare, he thrust open the door and rushed into your room.

“Professor-” Dimitri exclaimed, but his eye widened in shock as he took in the scene in front of him.

The room looked fairly normal , a similar state of cleanliness to what it had been the last time he had visited you here for tea. Your blanket was half draped on the end of the bed and half on the floor, but none of your sparse belongings were out of place.

Dimitri found you immediately, and his cheeks immediately felt hot. You did not appear to be injured, and he was easily able to discern this because of your lack of clothes. You were curled up on your bed... in only your smallclothes. Dimitri’s mind went blank as his focus was drawn to your bare breasts. He didn’t know what to do, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He knew what breasts looked like, but he couldn’t remember seeing any bare but yours at this exact moment. He was transfixed, even though every instinct of his was telling him he had to look away, to protect your modesty.

And then you moaned and brought him out of his stupor. Now that he thought about it, you did not look very well. Still unsure if he was making the right decision, he closed the door behind him before making his way over to you. He removed a glove and placed his hand on your forehead, having his suspicions confirmed. You were burning up, clearly sick from training in the rain for so long the day before. He presumed that you had not left your room the entire day, which did not seem good, considering you must have spent the entire day unconscious and fevered.

He wanted to cover you up, for the sake of his waning composure, but you didn’t have the time for that and he didn’t want to overheat you further. He would have to try to disregard his embarrassment for the moment, because you needed his help, and he didn’t know how to explain to one of the women around the monastery that he had busted down your door and found you nearly naked. And you would never forgive him if he had others see you compromised like this. It was already bad enough that he had seen you like this.

He quietly left your room, glancing around to confirm that nobody was around to see him coming and going from your room so late. It was a cold night, but it did nothing to calm him down at all. Your body was beautiful, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind as he fetched a small bucket of water and a cloth before returning to your room. He mentally braced himself before opening the door to find you in pretty much the same position you had been in, laying on your back.

Prioritizing his worry for you over his shyness, he closed the door gently behind him and walked over to your bedside. He carefully wet the cloth, wringing some of the excess water out before moving your bangs to the side and placing the cloth on your forehead. You exhaled loudly but evenly in your sleep, which he took to be a positive sign.

He ended up not getting a lot of sleep that night. He stayed in your room for quite a while into the early hours of the morning, dunking the cloth in the cold water again whenever it began to be overcome by your body temperature. He never felt his lack of sleep at all, practice, he assumed, from all of his sleepless nights spent longing for revenge. He had never slept as well as he had since he had allowed himself to be free of the burdens of his dead loved ones. Not free from his obligations to them, but now he would channel his resolve into freeing Fódlan from Edelgard’s tyranny as opposed to the mindless bloodshed that he had surrounded himself with for the majority of the past five years.

You were such a comfort to him, one he thought he had lost a long time ago. You had supported him and been by his side, and he was too consumed to appreciate it until after he lost Rodrigue. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with you and all of his former classmates and friends surrounding him. They did not want him to be consumed and lost to revenge, and now he understood that the dead did not want that either. But he was not free from the choices he knew he would have to make soon, it was something that weighed on his mind. He did not want to kill his stepsister, but as he went to wet the cloth again, he was glad you would be with him when he made that decision. He needed your support, and he resolved to support you as well as he could, especially given your recent hobby of being reckless with your own health and safety.

Feeling your forehead, he was relieved to discover that your fever had finally broken. You may not have been fully healthy again, but if you were at least a normal temperature now, then he knew that he had done his job. You were still nearly naked though, and he would likely be an unwelcome sight when you woke up, and so he took the cloth and bucket and stood up. Better that you did not know he had been here; it would spare at least you of the embarrassment. But as he quickly fixed the lock back into place before opening the door and closing it behind him, he knew it would be a difficult feat to erase the sight of your uncovered body from his mind any time soon. You were so pretty, and it was all he could think about the entire way back to his room.

You woke up slowly, eyes still closed but aware that you were now awake. Your middle of the night wakeup felt almost like a dream compared to how you felt now. You felt somewhat bad still, your throat not fully better and limbs still feeling a bit heavy, but the incredible fever you had felt earlier had all but faded. You must have really been doing poorly, because a glance outside the window told you that it was morning.

You supposed that you might as well get up; there was no way to assuage worry except going to interact with everyone. You would feel better eventually. You knew that the students would worry about you. Getting up and checking with your calendar, you discovered that you had spent an entire day and night in bed.

You slowly put your clothing back on, happy to discover that it had dried all the way, pretty much a given as it had lain in a heap for over a full day on your floor. You probably looked awful after your high fever, so you headed out of your room and towards the bathhouse to freshen yourself up. Just as you went to enter, Ingrid was leaving, her hair obviously wet, and you exchanged smiles as you passed by each other.

The bathhouse was almost completely empty, save a few women, but none of your students. It made sense that there weren’t a lot of people up this early in the morning. There had just been a big battle, and there were still more to come. Everyone worked so hard, so you felt that they more than deserved to sleep in if they wanted to. But you were more than happy to finally be free from your bed, and so you stripped down and got into the water in just your towel.

You took your time to wash your hair and body, happy to not feel gross for the first time in a while. Only after scrubbing yourself to your utmost satisfaction did you relent and get redressed, leaving the bathhouse behind and feeling fully refreshed. Stifling a yawn, you decided to head over to the dining hall as your stomach yearned for food after so long without.

“Good morning, Professor,” Mercedes greeted you as you both entered the dining hall together. “Did you also hear that they would be including sugar scones in today’s breakfast menu?”

You hadn’t heard anything about menus at all, but any food sounded good to you at this point. You couldn’t remember if you had eaten sugar scones before, but they sounded like something you would like. You and Mercedes walked up to the front of the hall together, both accepting a plate of assorted muffins and colorful scones that were sparkling with sugar.

“Oh, I just love these!” Mercedes spoke cheerily as the two of you found a free section of table and sat down across from each other. “Have you had sugar scones before, Professor?”

You shook your head no and she giggled. “Well, I would recommend spreading some Albenian berry jam on them,” she informed you happily, gesturing to the small dish of red jelly that was situated in the middle of your plate. “These are one of Annie’s favorites, so I thought she would be here by now…”

As if on cue, Annette burst through the doorway to the dining hall, almost tripping as she skidded to a stop just in time to turn and rush towards the dining hall staff for her tray of breakfast sweets. She waved happily at you and Mercedes as she passed you to get to the front. The two of you watched, amused, as Annette was scolded by the head chef for running in the dining hall. She sheepishly apologized and received her tray of sweets, which brought a smile back onto her face as she turned and made her way over to you, taking a seat next to Mercedes.

“Sorry I’m late! I thought scone day was tomorrow!” Annette explained as she took in the sight of her breakfast tray.

“You’re so forgetful, Annie,” Mercedes teased with a smile.

“Well at least I got here in time!” Annette huffed, wasting no time in smearing jam all over one of her scones and taking a big bite out of it.

“That is true,” Mercedes agreed, before turning her head to look at you. “Do you like them, Professor?”

You had tried a bite while they were talking, spreading the jam like Mercedes had suggested, and found that you did like them. You must have missed it when these had been served in the dining hall before. You had eaten an entire scone by the time Mercedes had asked the question, and you were interrupted before you could answer her.

“Mind if I join you ladies?” Sylvain asked from behind you.

“Of course, Sylvain,” Mercedes replied, and he slid in right next to you with his own plate of food that he placed down in front of himself.

“I feel like I missed seeing your pretty face around here the past few days,” Sylvain said, popping an entire scone in his mouth as he looked over at you.

“You never change, do you?” Ingrid said wearingly as she sat down on your other side. “You think that she hasn’t had enough of your behavior already?”

“Ingrid…” Sylvain groaned. “She got a hole cut out of her not that long ago, I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“And you thought your flirting would heal her wounds?” Felix raised an eyebrow as he sat down next to Mercedes. “You delusions never end.”

“Hey, why is everyone turning on me?” Sylvain complained, and you laughed. “Not you too, Professor! You wound me!”

Now Annette and Mercedes laughed, while Felix rolled his eyes and Ingrid smiled and shook her head. You all ate your breakfast while chatting, slowly adding Ashe and Dedue to your midst. Even when Dedue didn’t appear to be coming to sit with your group, Annette called his name and beckoned him over to join your table, while Ashe was convinced as soon as he saw your group all together. It was very lively, and almost made you forget that there was a war looming over you all. But just because you would soon have to kill or be killed yet again did not mean that you couldn’t enjoy the company of your lively house members.

“Hey, shouldn’t Dimitri be up by now?” Annette wondered out loud.

“That’s true,” Ingrid agreed. “He’s never been one to sleep in.”

“I can go and check his room,” Dedue volunteered. “If he is not there, then he may-”

“No need!” Annette replied. “I see him now! Dimitri, over here!”

The tall blonde king had just walked into the dining hall, and looked your way at Annette’s call, noticing your entire group all sitting together and walking over to approach you all. Before anyone could stop him or insist that he didn’t have to, Dedue was up from his seat to grab Dimitri a plate of breakfast from the cooks at the front. Some other people stopped Dimitri to talk quickly or greet him, and so he arrived at your table just as Dedue had brought back a plate for him, which he accepted gratefully, knowing better than to try to dissuade his friend from performing errands without being asked by this point. He sat down next to Dedue, and Annette got up to bring over some tea to share with everyone. It was the most cheerful that you all had been during this time of war, and you could not recall a time when you had been happier.

You talked with Ingrid about how her pegasus was doing, and she happily invited you to come flying with her if you would like, to which Mercedes and Annette chimed in that they would love to fly with her as well. Meanwhile, Sylvain on your other side informed you that his horse was available for riding lessons as well, to which Ashe mentioned that he wanted to improve his riding skills, and Sylvain looked marginally defeated. You were having so much fun talking with everyone that you didn’t notice anything amiss with Dimitri at all.

“Are you ill, Your Highness?” Dedue said, with no intentions of being discreet with his volume management. “You have not touched your food.”

Everyone paused their conversations to stare at the king, who had been staring at his plate until Dedue had spoken up to him. He looked up at the sudden silence, surprised to see everyone’s eyes on him. He gave Dedue a small smile, assuring him that he was alright, which Dedue reluctantly accepted, but it was not good enough for Ingrid.

“You don’t look very well, Dimitri,” she insisted, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at him. “Have you been sleeping alright?”

He looked over, meeting your eyes for a very brief moment before immediately looking at Ingrid, ignoring your confused stare. “I am fine,” he said reassuringly, shaking his head with a laugh when Ingrid gave him a hard look. “Really, Ingrid. I am alright.”

“If you don’t sleep, you’re just making it easier for the enemy to cut you down,” Felix said sharply.

“I bought some tea at the market that is supposed to help with sleeping problems if you would like to try some,” Mercedes offered.

“I promise you all that I am alright,” Dimitri insisted with a smile.

Sensing that a change of mood was in order, you offered the last remaining thing on your plate, a Dagda fruit muffin, to Sylvain. You found that you did not like Dadga fruit tea, and so you figured that it would be better to give it to someone who would appreciate it more. And it didn’t hurt as a conversation swap either.

“You don’t want it, Professor?” he asked, blinking at you, surprised.

You shook your head, holding the plate a little closer to him, and he shrugged, grinning at you. “Who am I to refuse you? Thanks for the muffin.”

Sylvain ate the muffin in a few bites as Dimitri finally began to pick at his own tray. You tried again to catch his eye, but he was determined to stare down at his plate. Conversation began to pick up again as Annette started to tell a story from back when they were all students. The conversation took a nostalgic turn as everyone then began sharing stories from their school lives five years prior.

“Not to be rude, but I thought you hated us at first!” Annette told you, blushing slightly with embarrassment.

“I must confess that I felt the same at the start,” Ashe agreed, quickly adding, “but we couldn’t be where we are now without you.”

“I do remember calling you beautiful and you just stared at me... I thought you didn’t hear me for a second,” Sylvain recalled.

“How is that any different from now?” Felix sneered.

“That is true,” Mercedes agreed. “Just the other day I saw a village girl just turn around and leave without saying anything.”

“Mercedes!” Sylvain’s jaw went slack. “You saw that?”

“I see your success rate hasn’t changed,” Felix scoffed.

Sylvain really had no comeback for that, and you were far from the only one at the table to laugh at his plight. Giggling, you locked eyes with Annette, who you noticed had also finished her plate. Nodding at each other, you both got up from the table to take your empty plates back.

“I feel like I’ve got my muffin fix for a while!” she joked as you handed your empty plates to the dining hall staff.

“What are your plans for the day?” you asked her, and she smiled.

“Don’t tell Mercie, but she was talking about how she missed these sweet ginger cakes we had when we were younger, and I was going to make some to surprise her with!” she whispered excitedly.

You were glad that Annette was such an endless supply of joy and kindness. You knew how much everyone appreciated any distractions from the mounting scale of war you were faced with, and so you also would have to do your best to keep a happy demeanor about yourself. Annette’s eyes drifted from yours as you both got back to the table as she stared ahead.

“Hey, where did Dimitri go?” she asked.

You looked over to where Annette had her eyes set and noticed that your table was missing its blonde king. You both must have looked incredibly confused, because Dedue decided to put you out of your misery.

“His Highness… had something to attend to.” Even Dedue sounded puzzled.

“Yeah, he just said that he had forgotten to do something and left…” Ingrid added, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Maybe he just had a bad reaction to the muffins?” Sylvain suggested, but one look at Dimitri’s plate told you that he hadn’t eaten a single thing from his plate.

He was acting weird, but he didn’t seem to be sliding back into his darkness again. Even so, you would have to check on him later, just to make sure. You had abandoned him for five years, even if it wasn’t by choice, and you would never leave his side again until the day came when he no longer needed you. You wouldn’t lose him again, not when everyone, when Faerghus, needed him.

Dimitri walked briskly to the cathedral, taking up his usual spot in front of the rubble that had once been a proud altar. He knew that he was clearly acting off, and his friends would eventually come and make sure he was okay. And he knew that he was not doing well, but it was not the type of problem that he imagined that they thought that he was dealing with. He had never dealt with anything like this before, and he didn’t know what to do. And so, he stared at the rubble, but too lost in thoughts to take in the scenery.

He couldn’t sleep at all the night before, and he didn’t know how he would get any sleep tonight. Seeing your mostly nude body had awoken within him feelings that he had kept himself from feeling for so long. He had been so focused on revenge for the entirety of his developing years that he had never allowed himself to think of romance as more than a faraway concept. He had sheltered himself for so long, and now the reality of his situation was hitting him with the full force that it would have had he allowed himself when he was a teenager. Instead, he was an adult man who was only now realizing the depths that his feelings could reach. He loved you, and it scared him.

He knew that he couldn’t avoid you forever. You had a war to win, and he couldn’t avoid his closest ally, even if he happened to just discover his feelings for you. He wanted desperately to be near you, but even with your widening range of emotions, he had seen no indication that you had any romantic feelings towards him. And besides, you would never talk to him again if you found out that he had stayed in your room while you were not fully dressed, even if it was to help you recover from your fever. He would live with his shame and hide his feelings, and would channel his energy into the war. Although that still didn’t resolve how he was going to sleep tonight, since he knew that every time he closed his eyes that night he would see your perfect breasts or your kind smile.

He had spent the last few hours of the night after he had returned to his room staring out of his window into the night sky. He had wrestled with his longing to go back there and tell you how he felt, kiss you… but you were sick. You needed rest. And you certainly did not need to have to deal with this new revelation of his. He relied on you for so much that he would crumble without your support, and so he just had to accept that your support would never be that of a wife’s to him.

He felt like a preteen boy. He couldn’t even stand to meet eyes with you in the dining hall earlier. He was so focused on staring at his plate that he could barely hear what anyone else had said. He had met your eyes for only half a second and even that was too much for him in his current state. You had looked worried for him, worries that he didn’t feel that he could assuage. He would have to keep his distance from you until he could resolve this within himself.

He must have been lost in thought for a while because eventually, he realized that Dedue was by his side. He gave Dedue a nod and then turned back to face the rubble, but a call of his title had him looking back to his stoic friend.

“Is everything alright, Your Highness?” Dedue asked simply.

“I…” Dimitri was not sure what to say.

“When I pledged myself to you, I intended to ensure that no harm came to you,” Dedue explained. “If anyone has been upsetting you, or you are suffering a cursed ailment, you need only to tell me and I will scourge whoever dared to curse you.”

Dimitri could never have a normal conversation with him during this war, could he? There were so many threats to his life, he was willing to admit, but Dedue never ceased to worry, even when everything was stable for the moment. He knew that Dedue cared about him, but he always thought the worst of things when it concerned his king.

“I have no injuries or curses, my friend,” he told Dedue who looked entirely unconvinced.

“If it is something that you feel that you cannot tell the others…” Dedue’s offer was implied. He was concerned, that much Dimitri could tell easily.

“For now, it is something that I must handle on my own,” Dimitri said, not meeting his friend’s eyes.

It took some convincing, but Dedue finally relented in his insistence that he walk the king back to his room, despite the fact that they were on entirely different floors. He also rebuffed Dedue’s offer to stand guard outside his room the entire night to defend him from attackers. Dedue had finally, reluctantly relented and allowed Dimitri to finally return to his room alone. He was careful to check that he hadn’t been followed; Dedue had done it before, after all. But he saw no signs of anyone following him and arrived on the second floor of the dormitories, not meeting anyone on the way down the hall and to his room.

It was early in the night, he discovered as he returned to his room. It was earlier than he usually went to sleep, but being awake for closing in on thirty or so hours was wearing on him. With getting some rest potentially in sight, he sat on his bed and began the painstaking process of removing his armor. He let out a tired sigh as his leg armor came off, and he carefully placed it aside before repeating the process on his upper armor, removing his cape and furs as well when he had taken his armor off. He was left in just his long black undershirt and black pants, which was all he wore when he slept these days. Although he did recall that he had previously pushed himself to the point of collapse when in his full armor before, and waking up from that had never felt pleasant on his body. But given his state of mind at the time, he simply got up and continued to do the work he felt needed to be done; being sore never kept him from the slaughter. But as he was now, he appreciated that he could take his armor off at the end of the day and rest. He never knew how nice it would feel to let down his last layer of defense and truly be himself around his friends with nothing to hide. Well, he thought, nothing to hide but his attraction to you that refused to wane.

He would try to sleep; at least now he was in his room, where he was not likely to run into you. His onset affection for you was so strong that he didn’t think it would go away, and he did not know if that was a good thing or not. He took off his shoes, setting them down before laying down on his bed and closing his eyes in the hope that sleep would find him.

You had spent your day talking to the other occupants of the monastery, doing your best to confirm that everyone was doing alright. You knew that this war weighed on everyone’s souls, and if you could do anything to help, you would. And so, you did some light training with Felix, went to the marketplace with Ashe, and ended up helping Annette do some baking for Mercedes, which did not result in any kitchen disasters for once, which was a relief. You had seen Dimitri in the cathedral earlier, in that same place he had always gone before he had broken free of his darkness. You decided to give him some space, but when you passed by the cathedral again later in the evening, he was no longer in his usual spot in front of the rubble.

Whatever was wrong with him, you wanted to give him time. You really did. But if he was sinking back into his inner darkness, then you couldn’t stand by and let it happen again. You walked around the monastery grounds but were unable to find him. As a last ditch effort, you decided to head to the second floor of the dormitories to check and see if he was in his room. You passed various people as they headed to their own rooms to retire for the night, smiling as Flayn excitedly wished you a good night as you passed by her. Finally, you arrived at what you recalled to be Dimitri’s bedroom door.

You raised a hand and lightly knocked on the door. No answer. Maybe he had gone for a late night walk and you had just missed him on your walk around the monastery. You knocked one more time, slightly louder, but still got no response. You couldn’t hear any sounds from at all from the other side of the door. Having no choice, you reluctantly decided to leave and head back to your own room. You could talk with Dimitri the next time you saw him, you reassured yourself. And so, you began to retreat the way that you had come, off to get some sleep and hopefully wake up fully free from your sickness.

“Professor…”

It was so quiet that you almost didn’t detect it, but you supposed your sensitivity on the battlefield allowed you to pick up the muted whisper of your old title. You turned your head back, not sure what to expect, but found Dimitri in only pants and a long-sleeved shirt, both in black, staring at you from just outside his room. He met your gaze with a look of surprise on his face, almost as if he had not expected you to hear him or turn back to look. You made your way back over to him, and he opened his door wider and gestured for you to accompany him inside.

He walked all the way to his window before turning only his head back to face you. His expression was unreadable, but yours certainly wasn’t, and he immediately saw the worry on your face.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly. You knew that you couldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to but you needed him to know that you were here for him.

“You never let up, do you?” he asked, and you vaguely recalled him saying something like that to you in the past. Before you could reply, he continued. “I could not be who I am today without your help.”

Why was he saying that now, and then why did he look so troubled? You didn’t understand where he was going with this, and were about to tell him so.

“I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, finally turning around fully and stepping slightly closer to you. “But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

“That is not possible,” you countered, staring him down sternly.

Dimitri only grew a small sad smile at your words. He looked to be waging a mental war on himself, but you bridged the gap that was still between you and forced him to look at you in the eyes. You looked at him with all the seriousness you could manage in an attempt to convey to him that you would listen to anything that he had to say. He broke eye contact with you almost immediately, staring at the floor as he spoke quietly.

“You had a fever,” he explained. “Nobody had seen you the day after you were out in the rain. I went to check on you, and you were not answering your door and I…”

Your eyes went wide in surprise. That night, you were…

“I am so sorry, Professor!” he spoke, sounding upset as he hung his head in shame. “I saw you in a state that only your husband should see you in and I-”

His rambling cut off and you looked at him, trying desperately to have him meet your eyes, but he continued to look at the floor, so you took a second to reevaluate these new revelations. Dimitri had not fully explained, but from what you had pieced together, he had been worried about you and came into your room, which must have been after you had stripped down to only your underwear, based on Dimitri’s odd husband comment. You felt a rush of embarrassment that he had seen you like that, but you found that you were more bothered that he had seen you looking so weak rather than the fact that he had seen you nearly naked. But you also found that you didn’t really mind that it was him that had seen you that way.

“I… I did not leave you be. I could not. I stayed with you and kept a cold cloth on your forehead until your fever broke. I should have left, but I could not just leave you like that,” Dimitri spoke up again.

He was so earnest that it was cute. Apologizing for seeing you nearly nude was one thing, but you stifled a laugh as he was for some reason apologizing for staying with you and taking care of you while you were sick. He was fiercely intelligent, brave in the face of the hardships of war, but looking at him now, he looked like an awkward teenager trapped in the body of a grown man. You could no longer help yourself, and you let out a quiet giggle.

“Professor?” Dimitri uttered as he looked at you in shock and you laughed at his expression.

“You’re so cute,” you told him, and watched as your words sent a pink flush to his cheeks as he stared at you in disbelief.

You knew that you should do something to put him out of his misery, but you weren’t sure what. You reached a hand up to cup one of his cheeks, and he looked at you unsteadily, closing his eye as he leaned into your touch. You weren’t sure why you had decided to reach out for him physically, but staring at his handsome face, so close to your own, you felt the most comfortable and safe you had ever felt. You closed your eyes too to bask in the moment, but then he said your name, not your title, but your actual name. You opened your eyes again and the two of you stared at each other and he raised his own hand to cover yours that was still on his cheek. He had an urgency in his eyes that you could not place.

“I need to kiss you,” he said, not breaking eye contact, unwavering under your surprised look.

You really shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, given how physically close the two of you were now, and how emotionally close you had been to each other for so long, but you hadn’t had the time to think that this was even a possibility. Overpowering all of your mind was the sense that this was all that you wanted in this moment. He was different than he had been when you had reunited with him, but he had broken free of his darkness, and had become the kind, strong leader that his people needed. That you all needed. He was your dearest friend, but right now you wanted him to kiss you more than anything, and so you nodded.

He didn’t waste any more than a few seconds before bending down and connecting your lips as your eyes slid closed as the same time. You adjusted your chin so you would be better locked together as your other hand weakly grasped at the material of his shirt, just above his chest. The kiss felt so effortless, as you both adjusted to the other’s rhythm and Dimitri’s other hand came up to rest on the back of your head, keeping you close together.

The kiss stayed simple, but it was making you feel lightheaded with the intensity that you were both putting into it. You pulled away, not confident in your ability to breathe at the moment and he followed, gently steering you back until the back of your knees hit his bed and you allowed him to push you back down onto it.

You found yourself laying on your back as Dimitri hovered over you, his legs on either side of you. He was upright with his knees pressed against your upper thighs, looking at you with want but unsure of how to proceed. While he sat there in a daze, you shrugged your coat off and gently removed your gauntlets, letting it all fall down in a heap by the bedside, and as you did, you noticed a pile of Dimitri’s own clothing and armor only a few feet away.

When you looked back up, you noticed that Dimitri had been following you with his gaze, but he still looked unsure. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what had happened to his confidence, but you decided that you would have to make it abundantly clear that you would like this to continue. And so, you lifted your torso up from the bed and wriggled out of your shirt, throwing everything that covered your upper body onto the floor and watching Dimitri’s eye widen and cheeks turned red as he once again took in the sight of your bare breasts. You were just happy that you were conscious this time so you could enjoy his very honest reaction.

He was still staring, this time he had switched back to look you in the eyes and you couldn’t help but tease him. “Dimitri, your shirt…”

He finally relaxed a bit and smiled so sweetly down at you. “I suppose I should make it even.”

You had never seen him shirtless before, but the scars on his body told you what he could never bring himself to about what had happened to him over the past ten years. He gave you no explanation, and did not give you the time to fully examine all of his scars as he lowered his head down and kissed you again, feeding in your boldness as he supported himself with one hand, bringing his other hand up to feel one breast. The shock of his sudden movements had you moaning in surprise, and the kiss transitioned further as you both allowed your tongues to meet as well.

You cradled his head in your hands, bringing one hand through his hair, so much longer than it had been five years earlier. Finding yourself wanting to be even closer to him, you brought one leg out from under him and wrapped it around his hip. The position allowed you to grind up against him, and he met your hips excitedly as you kissed and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you realized how much he wanted this, your hips so close together that you could not miss how hard he had become in such little time. The friction was exactly where you wanted it, but it began to not feel like anywhere close to enough.

He pulled back from you by a few centimeters, nose still touching yours, and his hand that was not supporting his weight drifted from your breast to brush a hand through your hair. “I love you,” he said sincerely, chuckling as you looked up at him in shock. “You did not think I loved you?”

He seemed amused by your lack of response, and in truth you did not know, you had been so happy to be like this with him that you hadn’t even considered the feelings that were obviously involved. But you could not deny how happy those words made you, and he leaned down to kiss you again as a smile lit up your face. He gave you a few short kisses before he disengaged himself from you, sitting at the side of the bed, and you hastened to join him. He looked over as you hesitantly placed your head on his shoulder, and he readily accepted the contact.

“I did not think that I would ever feel like this… that I deserved to feel this way with you. I escaped the darkness that I had been trapped in, but I know there are those who will never forgive me for the sins I have committed. But you stuck by my side when I treated you so poorly. I don’t deserve you… any of you,” he said, staring at the wall but wrapping an arm around your naked back.

“You are indispensable to me,” he said as he leaned over to kiss your hair. “I knew that I would not be here without you, but I did not realize my feelings until that night.”

You knew which night he meant, but you had taken even longer than him to discover your own feelings, but you knew now. You loved him, and there was no going back now, even if you wanted to. Which, sitting side by side in this moment, you knew that you only wanted to experience even more with this man who was so dear to you.

“I wanted to wait until after the war, until we had peace. But after that night, I could not look back at you without seeing your bare form. It is shameful, but I cannot hold back any longer, especially now that I know it is mutual,” he explained, adjusting the both of you so that you were facing each other. “I want to be with you.”

He was looking at you expectantly, but kindly. You realized that he needed you to also affirm that this was real, that you loved him as well. He believed in you, but you knew that you should put the poor boy out of his misery. You leaned in to kiss him and he reciprocated happily, pulling back after a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to look at Dimitri, who looked so content in that moment.

“I love you,” you told him, truly meaning it. “I want to be with you.”

Dimitri looked so happy, but with a glance downwards, you saw that he was no less hard. It looked rather painful, and couldn’t be comfortable for him. You were not as subtle as you thought you had been, and he caught your glance downwards on his form.

“I… it is okay, I would never pressure you. You do not have to worry about me,” he said quickly, face flushing pink.

He was about to get up and put some distance between you, but you would not let that happen. You stood up with him and spoke his name softly as you slipped your hands into the sides of your shorts, pulling them down along with your tights and slipping out of them and your boots. It was not a particularly graceful or sexy stripping of your last articles of clothing, but it got the job done. You crossed the room to where he was standing and he allowed you to begin the process of removing the clothes covering his lower half.

“If this is what you really want,” his growled words sent your cheeks aflame. “I will not hold back, my love.”

He helped you by kicking his pants and underwear off, and as soon as you were both fully naked, he picked you up, his hands grasping your thighs to support you. You hastily wrapped your legs and arms around him so you wouldn’t fall, and he grinned at you as he placed you down on the bed, following you down so he could kiss you again. Dimitri kissed you for only a moment longer as you desperately tried to keep up with his pace. You were so ready for what was to come, and you pulled back from the kiss and gazed up at him with longing.

Dimitri swallowed as he looked down at you, and you spread your legs as he reached down to his achingly hard cock. You were embarrassed to discover that you were easily wet enough from just kisses and simple groping that Dimitri was able to rub himself against you before he began to slide himself inside with ease. You let out a breathy moan as you tried not to squirm at the foreign feeling. Dimitri’s eyes closed as he dropped down to rest his head on your shoulder, his deep groan right by your ear as he pushed further inside you. Finally, your hips fully met as he was seated fully within you, and you knew that you had never felt anything like this before. You knew what sex was, your father had been too awkward to give you the talk himself and had a female village chief explain to it to you after you had saved their village, so you knew the basics. But no explanation could match up with how good it felt to be so intimate with the man you loved.

You felt his breath tickle your ear as he pulled himself back up, his eyes half lidded. “You feel so good… forgive me, but it is hard for me to focus on anything else.”

You felt the same way, but you didn’t have the patience for him to wait and adjust to this feeling, so you decided to force the issue by squeezing your inner muscles and watching as he shuddered, eye fluttering closed for a moment with a groan. He opened his eye to glare halfheartedly at you, obviously too pleased at the moment for you to believe that he was actually angry with you.

“You are so impatient,” he teased, but complied with your wishes as he pulled ever so slightly out of you before canting his hips back into yours.

He didn’t waste a second in continuing the movement, and his gentle rocking was driving you crazy. You were completely naked, and it had been a cold month, but you were so, so warm. There was a pleasant burn that was slowly ebbing away to just feel good in a way that you had never felt before. Evidently this was new to Dimitri as well, because he was in no better of a state than you were, panting against your skin as he leaned down to kiss at your neck. You were content to lay like that, your arms around his neck and feeling his hair tickle your face, but a well-timed thrust had you unexpectedly crying out with the sudden spike of pleasure.

Dimitri couldn’t suppress his own groan as he was able to reach deeper within you. And when you rolled your hips up to meet him, he almost stopped his momentum to bask in how good it felt. He once again palmed your breasts and stifled your moan as he kissed you again. He closed his eye as he kissed you because he feared that if he was to keep it open and take in the way you looked right now, this would end far sooner than he wanted. You were so beautiful like this, and his heart stuttered with every sound that left your mouth.

He wanted this to last, but he could no longer be satisfied with the current pace. He began to pull out more swiftly and push back in with a new speed and intensity. He felt pride surge up in him as you squirmed and broke the kiss to let out another cute cry. Your next cry was of his name, which set his pace on fire as you both rapidly tried to meet your ends as you both connected in a desperate clashing of tongues, both groping at any inch of the other’s skin that you could reach.

“I fear this will not last much longer, beloved,” Dimitri panted. “But we have so much more time ahead of us.”

You weren’t fully sure what he meant by that, but at this point you were so close to reaching your peak that you could do no more than moan and grasp weakly onto his neck and back, tangling one hand in his hair. You closed your eyes tightly as Dimitri held you as close to him as he could, his chest brushing against yours in tandem with his thrusting. It only took a bit more of his harsh, fast pace before you lost yourself in pleasure. Dimitri continued to move, prolonging your orgasm as you moaned and squeezed around him. He could only hold out for so long and he was finally pushed over the edge with a strained groan of your name. The two of you stayed joined for a moment before Dimitri gently moved off of you, giving you a shy smile. You went to get up with him, but he stopped you with a hand on your arm and you obeyed, laying back down, but looked at him quizzically.

“You may not want to get up. We have made quite a mess,” Dimitri said reluctantly.

He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the feeling to distract you, you realized just how gross you were feeling… down there. You closed your legs tightly in embarrassment, and in the hopes that you wouldn’t ruin Dimitri’s sheets. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

Dimitri laughed at your sudden shyness. “I will go fetch something to clean you up with,” he explained, beginning to dress himself to his first layer of clothing, foregoing his armor.

He bent down to kiss one of your flushed cheeks, and then he was gone out the door. Once the door had been closed and you were alone, you felt all of your remaining composure slip away. You and Dimitri had… you had no idea how he was so much more composed than you were, easily leaving the room to bring back something to clean you up. You felt too embarrassed to leave this room for a month, let alone right after you had been so intimate for the first time. You did not even know what to say to Dimitri when he got back, but you would dare to hope he had meant what he said, implying that he wanted to do this again. That he loved you. But for now, all you could do was wait for him to return.

Dimitri kept a relatively quick pace to fetch a cloth, although for a much different reason than the previous time. He still had a hard time believing that had just happened, that you and he were… he loved you, and he would not deny it even if being open about it was so new for him. Smiling to himself, he wistfully hoped that you would agree to spend the night in his room. He would not force you, but he could not deny that the idea of waking up and seeing your beautiful face first thing in the morning set his heart aflutter.

Dimitri had gotten to the middle of the hallway before he noticed someone waving at him just past his room, standing at the end of the hallway. Sylvain grinned at him as Dimitri walked past his own room to meet his friend just outside the redhead’s room.

“Late night walk, Your Highness?” Sylvain quipped, eyes briefly darting down to the towel in Dimitri’s grasp.

Dimitri was silent for a moment too long, wondering what to respond, and Sylvain laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Just one thing though, you might want to noise-proof your room.”

“Sylvain!” Dimitri admonished, shocked.

“Hey!” Sylvain waved his hands in a defensive manner. “It wasn’t me! But, uh, Felix was just here complaining that you and the Professor were interrupting his sleep…”

Dimitri was not sure what to say to that, and immediately felt bad because he was sure that you would be embarrassed if you knew that you two had been heard. Dimitri turned a hard gaze to Sylvain; his childhood friend had not been known to be the most trustworthy with gossip, but Sylvain immediately knew what Dimitri was thinking, and what he was likely about to say.

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone, relax!” Sylvain stated quickly. “Just be careful, ladies don’t really like having an audience.”

Dimitri scoffed, but smiled at his friend. “I will keep that in mind, Sylvain.”

Relieved that Dimitri was not mad at him, he clasped one of his friend’s shoulders. “I won’t keep you from her, but I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy, Dimitri. Just don’t let her get away!” he joked.

Both men having said their piece, turned to go to their respective rooms. Dimitri could only hope that you hadn’t heard any of their conversation. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you away or make you uncomfortable. But as he opened the door, he found you still on his bed, shutting the door behind him without looking back because he could not stand to look away from the smile you gave him upon seeing him return.

It hadn’t been long, but you felt happiness surge up in you at the sight of him. He briskly made his way over to you and handed you the towel he had brought, to your great relief. It would be too embarrassing to have him clean you, and so you accepted the towel gratefully, cleaning yourself as he turned his back to give you some privacy. You made quick work of cleaning yourself, feeling less of a mess immediately, other than your hair still being slightly matted to your forehead with sweat. You wanted to savor this moment, but you also wanted to know if he had really meant what he had said earlier.

Dimitri, not noticing the shift in your mood, leaned down onto the bed just as you sat up so he could give you a light kiss. He looked so happy when he pulled away from you, his smile unwavering. It was only then that he noticed how strained your small smile was. “My love…?”

“…you said we would have more time,” you said quietly, and his brows drew together in confusion, before nodding affirmatively.

“You have not figured it out yet?” Dimitri teased, reaching down to hold your hand. “I would hope that this was not the only time we would be together like this.”

You were still confused, and he noticed immediately. “I do not mean only in a carnal sense. This is a rather unusual setting, but I have no regrets. I want to marry you.”

Oh... You stared at him in shock. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, only just nervous that he would tell you to leave, that this was a one-time thing. But he had gone in the farthest direction possible from what you had feared. You found that you really wanted this, you wanted to marry him, wanted to stay by his side forever. None of your thoughts made it to your face, your expression blank as you stared at him. Dimitri didn’t seem to understand what you were thinking, and got a little anxious himself.

“If you do not want to, of course…” he muttered. “I do not have a ring, yet I decided to ask this of you. I understand if you do not want this with me.”

He had seemingly already decided his fate, and you smiled softly at him. “I accept.”

“You… you do?” he sounded surprised, and you weren’t quite sure why. He was a wonderful man, and you loved him so much. He was a fool to think anything otherwise. Especially after what you had just done together, and all you both had been through.

He had finally seemed to get the message, and practically lunged towards you, connecting your lips together in a rough kiss. This war would end, you knew, and then the two of you could build a peaceful world together. You looked forward to that, but you knew that you would have Dimitri at your side for anything that came your way, and that gave you all the confidence you could ever need.

#reader insert #xreader #fire emblem #fire emblem 3h #fire emblem three houses #dimileth #dimitri x reader #fe3h x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #smut at the end #smut

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alittlewhump · 3 years

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Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 8

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Content warnings: death mention, possible minor body horror with regards to injury

It had been a fortnight since Andariel. Morgan was adjusting to his new reality, one where speaking much louder than a whisper for more than a few sentences made it feel like he'd been screaming his throat raw. Where pain was out of proportion to the damage that caused it. Where his left arm was all but useless. Although he felt well enough to get up and move around, the wound on his arm showed no signs of closing. An inky colouration had spread out from the puncture, extending up above his elbow and down to his wrist. It turned his stomach to look at it. Any remaining strength in the limb was negated by the pain that shot through it at the slightest jostle or pull. Akara's expertise in the healing arts was not sufficient to handle a wound like this, caused by a demon queen and determined to linger. She had offered her sympathies and a supply of bandages, which at least allowed him to bind the damned thing so he didn't have to see it. His own limited knowledge of medicine did not extend to this manner of injury either, so simply keeping it covered and clean seemed like the best option available.

Morgan had been spending most of his time and energy on meditation and geomancy. Physical pursuits were not very attractive at the moment, so instead he focused on improving his magic. He would need it more than ever now, given the state of his arm. Eventually he would return to the graveyard he'd marked, to check on the restless spirits there, but he wasn't yet well enough for that journey.

The ground around the encampment was largely untended, but the soil was good. Morgan had been using it to flex his magical abilities cautiously, not wanting them to suffer from disuse. He turned small patches at a time, shuffling the richer earth up toward the surface bit by bit, until eventually there was a respectable area prepared. Nobody had asked him to install a garden, but it felt like it might be a useful contribution. It also helped to ground him. He had often tended the gardens back home, and found now that he was missing that work.

Short forays into the surrounding fields were still within the scope of Morgan's ability. Over the course of about a week, he'd managed to successfully transplant a reasonable variety of usable plants. Comfrey, feverfew, yarrow, and chamomile had all been easy enough to spot, and each had at least one medicinal use. They also had the benefit of being reasonably hardy, taking root well in the freshly turned earth. He had also experimented a little with some preparations of other plants he'd found - an outcrop of sway grass by a small lake, some sage nestled in among a patch of bright trefoil, a little bark from the willow just outside the encampment - but despite following standard procedures for preparation, none of the resultant concoctions did anything to relieve the pain of his injury. He took some fruits from what looked like an oleaster, intending to dry them for another attempt in the future, but he kept his expectations low. If the wound wasn't going to heal properly, it stood to reason that the other effects would also linger.

Cain had been good company, stopping by often. He inquired about the garden as it was talking shape and seemed legitimately interested in the various applications of the plants filling it. Morgan took care not to speak at too much length on any one topic, endlessly interesting though they were. Equally fascinating were the tales Cain had to share in exchange. The story of Tristram had been a sobering one, between the king's corruption by Diablo and the destruction it had wrought. And it seemed that it was not yet concluded, given the hero-turned-dark-wanderer who had fled. It would be worth pursuing that tale to its conclusion; Morgan's original request had been duly fulfilled, but the evident threat to the Balance was more pressing than returning to the Necropolis.

He'd also been alternating between meditating on ways to improve his clay golems and creating small versions to test the changes he'd thought of. So far he had come up with a lot of failed designs, going too far to the extremes to test the boundaries. A build with above average mobility that would crumble in combat, a strong and sturdy make that could absorb a great deal of punishment but would be too slow to hit anything that wasn't standing still. Now it was time to rein it in, to tinker with proportions and the flow of magic through the construct until something better emerged. Morgan slipped easily into the in-between state, retreating into his mind while his body rested in a comfortable cross-legged position. A pleasant breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree he was leaning against. Today would be good for focusing on the smaller details. He lost himself for a time in the contemplation of his designs.

A crawling, prickling discomfort pulled him back into reality. The sun was getting low in the sky. Someone had put their hand on his shoulder, and they were speaking to him.

"- word I've said, have you?" It was Blaise, looking annoyed.

Morgan shifted away from her, and she let her hand fall. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't hear you. I was meditating." The rough sound of his voice was another thing he was still getting used to. He rubbed his throat gingerly. Should have thought to keep some water nearby.

"Of course you were. I said, I talked to Kashya and she's agreed to give you some training. If you're going to keep fighting monsters and demons, you'll need some help. With your swordplay. It's not very good."

She was right, of course. Now that he could no longer hold a shield, his sword would have to be defensive as well - and magic had always been his strength, not actual physical strength or coordination. He'd been planning to refocus himself entirely on the magical side of things, but this was undeniably a good idea even if he didn't relish the prospect of physical training. Any formal instruction in the use of a sword would be useful.

"When?"

"You're welcome. Whenever you're ready. As soon as tomorrow." Instead of turning to go, she sat next to him. He expected her to keep talking, but she didn't. Maybe she was working up to something. The silence stretched uncomfortably. She didn't like him, she'd often said as much - so why was she staying so near? He'd been doing his best to be avoidable, true to his word. She hadn't been taking advantage of it, instead crossing his path at least once a day. Probably some sort of sense of obligation. The Sisterhood had been treating him with a cautious, grudging respect since Andariel's defeat. It was... strange.

That reminded him of a question he'd been meaning to ask. Now seemed as good a time as any, so he turned to study her. "Blaise. Why did you tell everyone I killed Andariel?"

She startled visibly and raised a hand to shush him. "What the hell, Morgan," she hissed, "you can't just say-" she cut herself off, looking around furtively. Apparently satisfied that nobody was eavesdropping, she continued in hushed tones. "Look, if Akara and Kashya knew I killed that big ugly bitch, they'd never let me get away from this backwater. It's different for you. They're expecting you to go. And when you leave, I'm going with you. At least until I'm well away from here. This place... I'm not really cut out to be part of something like this."

"Ah." That explanation made enough sense. He hadn't realized she wanted to leave, but then he often didn't realize things about other people. Perhaps he'd misinterpreted her loyalty as fondness. There wasn't always a correlation there. She hadn't exactly been talkative during their time together - not to him, not about personal wishes and desires. It also explained the closeness; by spending time around him, she was putting on a front, laying the groundwork that would justify her departure. Satisfied, he turned away to look at the sky. It was starting to be tinged with pink, and it was lovely to see.

"How do you do it?" Now it was her turn to scrutinize him. She was staring intently at his face as though it was going to hold anything other than confusion. Do what? Had he slipped back into his thoughts and missed part of the conversation? "I mean, doesn't it bother you?" That clarified nothing. He stared blankly, and she huffed. "People don't like you. As a necromancer. I mean, we didn't exactly give you a warm welcome. But there's no way it's just us. Your kind are... well, hated."

Oh, that. It was just a fact. He'd come to accept it easily enough. People didn't usually take kindly to him even before they knew his particular area of specialization. He shrugged, wondering idly what had lead to the question. She didn't seem to like that response.

"It's normal," he offered.

"It's not normal! How could you think that's normal? How do you... live with it?" She gesticulated, as though the waving of her hands might clarify her meaning. It did not. How else would he live? He took a moment to search for the words to frame it.

"As followers of Rathma, we are driven by pursuit of the Balance. What others think of us is not important."

"Not im- Morgan, of course it's important! The way people treat you matters. You have to rely on other people all the time."

"I try not to."

Blaise pinched the bridge of her nose as though the conversation was giving her a headache. "Yeah, I know you do. But sometimes you don't have a choice. Like - there's no way you could have gone up against Andariel alone, she would have killed you in a second."

"Mm." While certainly true, it didn't change much. Alone, he would have been more cautious, planned better. Probably died anyway. Others would have come to take his place. His individual life only held value in the contribution it could make toward the Balance. Death came inevitably to all things; to die in service was at least honourable.

Blaise seemed agitated. "I don't think you understand - this is life and death stuff. For fuck's sake, you nearly did die! When-" she lowered her voice, which had risen in frustration. It shook a little. "When I brought you to Akara, she argued with me. She didn't want to waste her supplies on you. She was just going to let you die on her doorstep, because she doesn't like you. That's not normal. You can't just think that's okay."

It certainly wasn't extraordinary. That was why necromancers generally brewed their own potions, not that he'd had either the time or the forethought to reach for his own during the encounter. He started to shrug again. Akara had been pleasant enough since - oh. All the pieces came together suddenly, but the picture they formed didn't quite make sense. Blaise had lied to save him. She'd decided, probably on an impulse, out of desperation, to frame him as the hero because the healer wasn't going to touch him otherwise. She had wanted him to live, and had sacrificed her own part in the story to ensure his survival.

Of course, that type of instinctively selfless behaviour was part of the reason he'd decided she was a genuinely good person. But having that kindness extended to him - that was new. He didn't quite know what to make of it. People weren't kind to him, as a rule. That was familiar, at least, predictable. It didn't feel like he'd done anything to earn this special treatment. He'd have to tread carefully.

"It's what I'm used to," he said quietly. "Death comes to all things. We do not expect others to delay it for us. But you... are extraordinary." It didn't really feel adequate, but he would need some time to process this new information, and the moment would be long past by then. "Thank you," he added. That also felt shallow. He had no reference to draw from - what was the appropriate way to convey this tangle of feelings? Indebtedness, surprise, gratitude, admiration, and those were just the aspects he had names for. He purposely held her gaze for a moment, hoping she would be able to glean something from that since his words weren't doing the job.

Blaise opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Instead, she stood and stretched. "I bet you haven't even eaten today. Come on, Charsi made these beautiful rabbit pies. You have to try them." She extended her hand toward him. He didn't especially want to join a communal meal, but it would be rude to refuse such a rare offer. And he had, in fact, neglected to eat. He took her hand to pull himself up. Tomorrow he would attempt to train with Kashya, but right now he wouldn't worry about it.

#my writing #story: unbidden #death mention tw #body horror tw

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letteredlettered · 3 years

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Absolutely no pressure to answer if u don't want to but how did u and ur girlfriend meet? U guys seem really cute together.

We are insanely cute together.

This is a long story that doesn’t need to be this long, but whatever. I love my girlfriend and you asked, so here you go.

Last spring I was writing That Lesson Alone, which was making me rethink a lot of things I’d already thought a lot about before. That rethinking made me promise myself to be more open to new experiences, which I try to be, but I do let my social anxiety drive quite a bit of what I do.

So, when I got an email from a fan who said she was going to be in what she thought was my hometown, and she loved my fics, and was I interested in meeting, I said yes. She mentioned she had left a comment on one fic and that we had had a little conversation; I remembered this comment in particular because the personal story in the comment was rather sensational and quite interesting. Still, I might not have agreed to meet, because it could be very awkward. I don’t like talking to strangers with faces. However, because of That Lesson Alone, and because she was fannish, I agreed to the meeting. (I like meeting strangers who are fannish far more than strangers in any other circumstance. At least you can talk about fandom with strangers who are fannish, and I’m very interested in fandom. You can talk about work with work strangers or the bus with strangers you meet at the bus, but most real things bore me so I struggle with these conversations.)

This person sent me another email in another language, which stymied me for a little while about how to reply, but then she quickly sent me another email saying the first email was meant for someone else; the someone else also sounded sensational. When she got to my hometown, she emailed to say she had arrived, but only had a vague idea of when she was leaving, and she had no concrete plans so could meet any time. I began to get the impression that this person was, how do you say, A Ride, by which I mean one of those people who is interesting and clever and sensational but also extremely non-linear and flighty and difficult to understand. I mean she was halfway around the world and didn’t know when she was leaving; she sent the wrong people emails; the people she told me she knew were sensational; she was perfectly bilingual; she was totally down for meeting random strangers. I have a friend who is A Ride. She is what the Sisters at the Abby would call a flibberty-gibbet, a will-o-the-wisp, a darling, a demon, a lamb.

I wanted to meet on a weeknight (I don’t know if you know this, honey, but I told you I wanted to meet on a weeknight because I was busy, but although I can always be busy, so it wasn’t strictly a lie, this wasn’t my main motivation. I wanted to have an excuse to only have a small window of time to meet so that I could get away if it was too awkward), but on the night we arranged to meet, I was unwell. I was in fact entering the worse part of what I have now learned is a chronic illness. Usually this would be enough to convince me to cancel altogether, and to this day I’m shocked that I didn’t. Is it becoming clear that I don’t like meeting anyone and never ever date? Anyway, because of That Lesson Alone and my determination to be open to new experiences, we rescheduled.

I bused to the restaurant where we met after work and then walked from the bus. I remember this walk. I remember doing the thing that I do to prepare myself for social situations I don’t like, which is not letting myself dwell on it too much, reminding myself that I am actually rather good at making other people feel comfortable when I make the effort, reminding myself to ask questions, reminding myself I could get away, reminding myself that people actually find me quite personable and even vivacious, because I am, but if it’s with strangers, only if I fake it hard enough. These little reminders get me into game face, the face I use for dealing with other people.

Anyway, when I met her, she was very tall. This immediately made me more comfortable, as I am very tall and often feel awkwardly large around other people. And then the first thing she told me was that she had been watching something happy and queer, which meant we could not only talk about fannish things but also queer things. But was she going to be one of those people who just went on about straight things being dull? That always makes me uncomfortable.

Luckily, she doesn’t talk that way, and it was such an amazing conversation, the kind of conversation you dream about having with the love of your life, but the one you doubt you’ll have when you actually meet the love of your life. You imagine when you meet the love of your life you’ll have a conversation that goes, “Pass the salt,” and maybe you’ll talk about the weather, and then a few weeks later you meet them again and talk a little more about something equally uninteresting. Not until months pass by do you realize how much you have in common and how much you like being near them, and then you will start to talk about the things that truly interest you, and after years, you realize they’re the love of your life.

Most of the time, when you have a really stunningly good conversation, you don’t assume you’re talking to the love of your life. You assume it’s a once in a lifetime conversation, with a once in a lifetime person, and you never see them again, because they are too smart and too cool and too tall for you. Or, you do see them again, and you keep seeing them, because they are so mystic, so magical; they are so stunning and intelligent and intellectual; they make you feel so much, you just want to talk to them and talk to them and talk to them. And the more you talk, the more you find out that behind the magic, there’s actually not much that you have in common. Sometimes you find out that they trot out the same sensational stories on every occasion; they make the same jokes you found so witty over and over; you find out that everything that was glossy and new about them is something old that has been polished to shine, with very little you can hold on to and firmly understand underneath. Other times you just learn that your moral centers diverge, or you don’t actually like them. There is no fire beyond the initial spark.

This is just not true of my girlfriend. She is still smart and still cool and still sensational and, very importantly, still tall. I would not describe her as A Ride. She’s not one of those people who makes you feel like you have to sit back and hold on; though she’s endlessly clever, she can explain her thought processes and likes to; she thinks deeply about herself and others and listens. She’s so thoughtful and interesting and clever and also deeply passionate and exuberant about so many things that when you’re with her you can create a ride together that both of you drive or both of you sit back and enjoy. (She didn’t know when she was leaving my hometown because her flight back wasn’t for a long while, but she was traveling down to Oregon and California, and hadn’t bought train tickets yet, and we solved how the mistake was made on the email. We are guessing it was an autofill accident, since the person she was trying to email has a name that starts with the same letter).

She is reliable. She has a whiz-bang, knock-you-flat kind of memory, that not only remembers facts and conversations and locations but that remembers how you are feeling, and remembers to ask. She has the kind of broad-yet-also-piercing intellect that can follow an abstract conversation and build on it, even when you’re in the territory of feelings and concepts without names. She always wants to talk about her feelings, which makes me want to genuflect with gratitude, and she’s so hot she’d probably light a candle if she touched its wick. Like definitely keep her away from flammable substances. She’s creative and theatric and theatrically creative. She has big dark hair and curvy hips. She’s generous and accommodating and care-taking in a way that doesn’t negate her own self-interest. She’s gentle. She’s kind.

But anyway, so we got to talking, and it was one of the best conversations of my life, and I got on a bus and went home, very proud of myself for having accomplished A Social Thing, and telling myself, “See? Social Things are not always bad.” She had mentioned that she would be in town a little longer if I wanted to hang out again, but that would just be crazy, as having to do anything social twice in one week is a strain for me, much less with someone I don’t know. But the truth is, I already felt like I knew her, and leave yourself open to new experiences, said That Lesson Alone, and when else was I going to meet a magic person?

Also, I should mention, which I’m not sure I’ve mentioned to her, but I am suspicious of magical people. When I meet magical people I assume they are vampires underneath, by which I mean they are putting on an act, as I said above, or they are one day going to get you in a very difficult situation, because they are A Free Spirit, which, eventually, you find out means they think crime is fun, or something. I’m just a suspicious person, okay.

But we did hang out again. And that was also magical. And I invited her to my apartment, something I’ve barely done with anybody and never ever ever in my whole life with someone I’ve just met. And then I thought about having sex with her, which is something I basically never think about. And then she left town and said she might be in love with me, but at this point I still A LITTLE BIT thought she might be A Ride, in which case she probably fell in love with people all the time.

Usually when I meet someone very cool I assume they don’t want to pursue friendship with me, because they probably have way too many other friends. I think we’ve all been in the situation of knowing someone very popular and realizing that we do not mean as much to them as they do to us. I am always wary of investing too much emotion in someone who does not have the capacity to equally invest in me. However, because investing time in people I don’t know well is such a commitment for me, I’m also frequently guilty of just ghosting people. I often don’t respond to texts or emails. I often just drop people, without ever really meaning to. Part of it is how intently I focus on things—it’s difficult for me to be pulled in many directions at once, so it’s easier to have a few good friends rather than many casual ones. But part of it really is self-confidence, assuming people don’t want to know me.

However, writing That Lesson Alone reminded me that I am allowed to pursue friendships. It made me realize that a lot of my assumptions about people not wanting to know me are my own self-confidence issues, and not actually other people not wanting to know me. Writing That Lesson Alone reminded me I was worth knowing.

So, we kept talking. I was still late to replying to some emails, but I eventually did reply. I even got a new messenger app just to talk to her. We both have an interest in theater. I was directing a play. She expressed interest in seeing it. She was going to be in Canada when it opened. I told her if she wanted to see it she could stay with me if she wanted. I’d never really done anything like that before. She said yes. I still didn’t really think it would happen—but it did. She came to stay with me for a week that summer. I remembered thinking about having sex with her. I remembered thinking she might be open to it.

One of the things I wanted to be open to when I was writing That Lesson Alone was the idea of dating. I used to think that if I was open to dating, I would have to be open to dating lots of people I didn’t want to date; I thought dating meant you had to give everyone “a chance” and suffer through a lot of “pass the salt” just In Case. That’s why I didn’t date. I have actually been happy being mostly single most of my life. I never really felt a strong need for a partner, except in some sadder lonely moments, and even then, I wanted to be alone more than with someone who was just “pass the salt” okay. But one revelation I had writing That Lesson Alone was that I didn’t have to give everyone “a chance.” I didn’t have to give anyone a chance. I could just be open to dating, and look at what was out there (OK Cupid), but if nothing appealed, I didn’t actually have to do anything, since I already knew I was happy being alone. So, I thought more about what would be appealing, so I could know what I was open to.

I realized the person I wanted was tall (natch). With big dark hair. They like reading and talking about fiction and fictional characters. They can have abstract conversations about philosophical topics. And they are caring and accommodating in a way that can deal with an acerbic nature like mine, but they are also self-aware enough and assertive enough to be honest when I’ve hurt them. And they aren’t acerbic back.

This is a tall order. (hahaha) I thought about it a lot, because I really am harsh sometimes. I try not to be. I try very hard. I just get snappy when I’m tired or stressed, and even though I think about it deeply and put measures in place so that it won’t hurt other people, and I reflect on my own behavior and make apologies, I still hurt people. And despite all of this I’m still hurt by anyone that acts like me. I can deal with it! In fact, lots of times I like it, as lots of people like that (myself included) tend to be blunt and I love blunt, because I love knowing where I stand with people. But I also know that, as a rule, I just cannot be extremely close and spend my life with someone who will snap at me. I’m just too sensitive.

Anyway, over this week she stayed with me, I realized she actually was the only person I’d ever met who fit all of these qualifications. She was someone I would date if she was local. Meanwhile, she made it pretty clear she was really, really into me, which was also something that had never really happened to me before. If people have been into me before (which I still doubt, but who knows), they haven’t made it clear. If they thought they were making it clear, they didn’t realize that I am someone who needs heavy, heavy hints in order to understand flirting, even when I see it happening to other people. But luckily my girlfriend is pretty great at making what she wants clear. She made it really clear she wanted me.

So, well, things happened. I told her I wished that we could date and she could be my girlfriend. She asked why we couldn’t. I told her I thought the distance thing was an obvious problem. She didn’t think it was. So then I had a girlfriend, and she did too.

The end.

PS I love her.

#z #i love you!!!#Anonymous

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

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Supernatural Series Finale

It took me a couple days to collect my thoughts on one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch in my life. Like I said a few days ago, I cried even harder watching it the second time around. But now that I’ve had a chance to process and also see what other people were saying, I think I can finally put into words my impression of the finale.

Buckle up, this is a long one....

Let me preface this first off by saying that as an adamant Dean girl that has said numerous times over the years that all I’ve ever wanted was to wrap Dean in a blanket and give him some forehead kisses and tell him everything is going to be fine, this episode gutted me. I fully believe that my boy did not deserve to fight so hard for so long to just die as soon as he was free. He deserved a lifetime of truly enjoying time with his baby brother, the person he loved most in the whole world.

Now with that being said, having watched this series so many numerous times, I truly don’t believe that the show could have ended any other way. It’s something that has been pointed out by the creator, the writers, the actors, and even the characters themselves in the show. Dean never saw anything else for himself than dying doing the one thing he knows best, hunting. I saw a post that discussed how this would have happened numerous times already had Chuck not been interfering in their lives, and I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment.

And Dean had been raised to never think anything of that. It goes back to Cas’ declaration that he is “the most loving human he has ever met”. Dean is and always has been a man of duty. He would gladly die at the end of a blade if it meant he saved someone from the fate his family was ‘destined’ to live. He has always cared more about other people than he ever has himself. It part of the reason that his freak out in 15.17 didn’t throw me because for fuck’s sake wasn’t it his turn to be a little bit selfish for once?

Anyway, I digress. Dean has been fighting for others his whole life. And as stated in 15.19, him and Sam were free to finally write their own story. Is it not 100% on character that Dean would die a hunter’s death? As we see in the beginning of the episode, the Winchesters could have chosen to walk away from the life then. They could have chose the apple pie life, a wife and 2.5 kids. But they didn’t, they chose to continue saving people, hunting things. They were writing their own story, even if it ended tragically. But that’s life, it’s messy and depressing, but it’s also beautiful and even if Dean only got a small taste of that, I can be happy.

I know a lot of people feel like that negates their character growth throughout the seasons, but I disagree. I think that the way this ended shows just how much both of them had grown. Sam very well could have went to Jack and begged him to bring Dean back and Dean could have asked him to. But neither felt that it was necessary any longer. Without Chuck pulling the strings, that scary, neurotic, codependence they used to hold was gone. Dean was okay with dying and Sam let him go. Dean told him how much he loved him and how scared he had been to go get him at school. Dean opened up, something that season 1 Dean never would have done. Just look back at “Faith”, the episode where Dean makes every joke in the book about dying instead of facing the truth that his time was up and Sam refuses to accept it so much that his one source to save him (unwittingly) is black magic. The men I saw in 15.20 were far from the men we met in season one.

Coming back to finally being free, I have to talk about the dammed paperwork in Dean’s room. I’ve seen the speculation about that. But that’s all it is, speculation. We have no idea what that was supposed to be about. If they had meant for us to see it, they would have shown it to use like they showed us the “Dean’s other other phone” sticker. But they didn’t. So it’s perfectly fine to speculate about it, that all a part of art interpretation, but in my opinion, even if Dean was working on ‘something else’ I don’t think he ever could have fully walked away from hunting. This ending was for all intents and purposes, inevitable.

For all the rest, as a writer, I fully understand the way that they chose to do this episode. Sure covid played a role but the boys had said that the crux of what the episode was did not change. There is a certain nuance to storytelling, like I posted back on Thursday and something that is probably one of the most famous lines from this show. Endings are hard. Writing is hard. It’s impossible to please everyone and even harder to tie up all loose ends. At the end of the day, the writers had to be satisfied with the story that they put out, irregardless of what you or I think. As Jensen so beautifully puts it, Supernatural is a piece of art, one that has numerous hands in the pot. From writers to actors and directors. And art is always up for interpretation. But that’s the beauty in it.

I talked to a dear friend, @waywardbeanie after the episode and was like “I want to know x.y.and z” because a part of me wanted all the answers from them. I’ve always been a person so very deeply rooted in canon (I know as a fanfic author that sounds weird but stay with me). I trust the information given to me and take it as face value. I seen my stories as an extension to canon, not trying to rewrite it. So it took me a few days, and more conversations with other fans of the show, like @winchest09 , to understand that the facts left out of the final were most likely intentional.

This is a show that has such a passionate and loving (mostly) fandom. Together we have done so much good for the world, and that is something even if you hated the finale, you can’t take back. The writers left the ending open for us, to write our own stories, whether it’s just your thoughts or if you actually write a piece of fanfiction. There is so little about what happens after Sam leaves, presumably for Austin (don’t even get me started on the essence of that cause I might cry again), because it’s our job to decide. Did Sam quite hunting all together or was he a pseudo Bobby, manning the phones for other hunters? Did he finally go to law school or end up getting some other mundane job? Who was his wife or girlfriend or baby momma in the background? Was it Eileen? If not did she know about his life? One could drive themselves crazy answering these questions, and it’s your right to do so however it will make you happy. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter to the story.

At the end of the day, what mattered was the peace that the boys found together, in heaven. Sure Dean missed Sammy when he first got there, but he didn’t fuss, because as Bobby said “he would be along”. So Dean did what he’s always done, he took a drive in Baby, and Sam was there when he finally brought her to a stop. In the end their story ended just as it had started, our boys together.

And I know a lot of people are angry because one of the big themes this show touched on was that family doesn’t end in blood. And I agree wholeheartedly that I would have loved more familiar faces or even the mention of them (I screamed when Donna was mentioned), but at the end of the day, something Eric Kripke has been saying since season one, this show is and always has been about the brothers and their relationship. I in no way think that this negates the family they found along the way or how they could not have done a lot of it without them but, it’s not their story. I’m sorry but it’s true.

It’s not about Cas, Jack, Bobby, Crowley, Ellen, Jo, Mary, Eileen, etc. It’s about Sam and Dean and it sucks that people can’t let that go, but I get it. I can’t imagine putting so much time into something to let something like that ruin the whole experience for you. I hope that you can find peace eventually. I guess that’s my blessing, that I never really cared for anyone besides Dean. Which isn’t to say I didn’t like characters but what happened to them never mattered to me, as bitchy as that sounds.

I’m at peace with this ending, no matter how much it hurts me. And I think it’s just the finality of it that hurts. Jensen and Jared and Kripke are satisfied with their little show that could and that’s what matters most to me. Because those are the real people with real feelings that I care about.

So there you have it. I have zero tolerance for negativity, so please keep your comments off this posts. You are free to your opinion but I don’t want to see it and put any seed of doubt in my acceptance of this ending. I’ll be the first to admit I’m too easily swayed, ha!

But if you need to talk, my inbox is always open. I’m still coping with the loss of this show and everything that comes with it. I don’t do well with change or facing my own mortality, something that has rattle me these past few days. I feel a million years older and that scares me. So know your feelings are valid and I’m here.

#supernatural #spoilers #dont spoil the final hunt #spn finale #supernatural finale

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melforbes · 3 years

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seaglass blue annotations

hello! i just posted the last chapter and thought i’d put together some ~fun context~ for that fic. it got way way more attention than i ever expected and for something i feel i didn’t put that much effort into i think i did in the end put a lot of effort into it so i might as well talk about it and answer some potential questions.

my favorite book of all time is the sunlit night by rebecca dinerstein (yes, that one) and something i find really compelling about that book is how sparing the prose is, forcing the reader to fill in certain gaps, and i think having to fill in those gaps makes the book a really acquired taste with which either you love it or hate it and there’s not really an in-between

i also really adore how in that book the natural world backdrop comes to life, something i find really challenging to write. recently i even read into thin air, the book about the 1996 mount everest disaster, and even though the writing was superb, i still had to google what the hillary step was because i couldn’t picture it on my own. i don’t know how people write nature because to me it feels damn near impossible, but this sparing approach really worked, so i thought i might try it out. i tend to be longwinded (gestures vaguely at this post) and wanted to have certain parts of this be a lot smaller and more contained without negating impact. whether or not i made it work is anyone’s guess. definitely not my normal style, so to speak

based on the comments i’ve received i think this might be everyone’s favorite part. in my mind age of consent by new order was playing in the background. in pretty much every fic i have a scene like this one and all of them are based on the poem first base gold by rh*annon mcg*vin from her book branches (censored because she has a tumblr and i don’t want her seeing this haha)

i absolutely can’t do the poem justice by describing what it’s about, but the simplest, most basic interpretation of the poem is that there is no better place to kiss than right here, right now, because of the past. i really like that imagery and tend to use it a lot. she as a writer has been a big inspiration for me and if you’ve read my fic true minds i should add that the nonfiction inspiration for that was directly as a result of one of her youtube videos. i particularly love how the last paragraph (stanza? im not a poet) is one big run-on sentence that’s jovial and tongue-in-cheek and colloquial and straightforward. it feels triumphant in a quiet way to me and i love how it’s done. obviously my attempts at something similar are nowhere near as insightful, but still, the most basic image of this is that there is no better place to kiss, and that’s how i felt about the two of them finding pudding in the supermarket

this part is autobiographical; while writing this last year, i went through six months of intravenous drug treatment, a month and a half of which involved long days of doctor visits on every weekday. when you’re on stuff like that for a long time you end up with a central line for better access (potential plot hole in all of this: scully never had one) but for a month and a half i got poked almost every day and strangely enough it got harder over time. the first couple you never feel, but a week or two later you start flinching, and if the needle goes in the same vein each time, it hurts the more it gets prodded. i reached a point toward the end of the in-office visits in which i would bleed a lot every time i got poked, and i can’t watch anything like that happen to me so i was looking away each time, and when i felt that the nurse was done, i would look back over, and sometimes i would be looking down at a pool of blood that i hadn’t expected to see. it’s weird, you don’t actually feel yourself bleeding, i would’ve expected a hot bloody feeling but instead it felt like nothing. and when i say a pool i mean that it would drip down beneath my elbow, stain the sheet they’d put underneath, and i wouldn’t get all of it off until i showered. i didn’t necessarily find it scary, but it was surreal and kind of pulled me out of normalizing the experience i was having. for a very long time needing iv drugs was my greatest fear and i was surrounded by that then and fine, and then, there was blood all over my arm, and like, haha, this is actually not fine. you’d think something else would’ve been scarier, but it wasn’t. and now looking back at this paragraph i wish i’d edited it differently but hey that’s life

i’d never really understood the purpose of religion as a self-driven part of life until i took anatomy in college. i was raised catholic and though culturally i understand having a religion and being raised with one, i’ve never really reached for religion when i wanted answers, and i haven’t personally understood why that’s someone’s first option. and i know there’s been plenty of commentary on the hypocrisy of dana scully as a catholic who believes in science, yada yada yada, i think everyone has read all of that by now. but what struck me while learning anatomy is that there is a kind of neuron we don’t know the function of. there are four kinds of neurons, and one of them is still a mystery to us. and then, there’s all of these different parts of human bodies that exist in a certain perfect way, but why do they exist like that? to support life, yes, but why is it that we can make comparisons? why were irises not the same color? and we name valves of the heart after religious figures. we are so hell-bent on meaning that something literal will never be enough. and all of that made me think that dana scully has god to fill in what science won’t answer, at least not yet. and there’s definitely a bigger conversation about science as denial of indigenous cultures that i am nowhere near qualified to start. after taking those classes, i think i would be more shocked if she wasn’t religious. you can ignore pretty much all of the paragraph above but it was important to me that at some point in this fic she willingly conceded that she didn’t know what would happen and that she didn’t have answers. with illness, there is no logic, there’s no thinking your way out of it, and i think that would plague her for a long time. to me, she only would accept her death when she could say she had no idea what would happen, she has no answers, there’s nothing filling in her gaps anymore, and she’s comfortable with that. and i put all of that in a paragraph about my thoughts on god because it made sense to me. there are times that just feel like you’re in a movie and there’s no one else you can say caused them. it’s not enough to build belief on but it’s enough to bring a certain kind of wonder. also one time my parents insisted on watching stripes because it was so funny and when watching it none of us found it funny at all and my parents grimaced and were like what were we on that made that good back in the day so that’s in here now haha

and now, the biggest question: does she die at the end? when i came up with the idea for this fic, i knew the beginning and ending but not the middle, and i posted this as a smaller project (ie: chapters below 3,000 words) while illness made my bigger projects harder to work on and essentially flew by the seat of my pants the whole time. i wrote the last line a long long time ago and have always seen the ending as written as the concrete ending. when i started writing this, i never intended for there to be a definitive answer to whether or not she dies. i like premature endings (the ending of girls burn brighter comes to mind) and i think that this works better without saying whether or not she lives. and i also have a hard time with giving a definitive answer because this fic very much is about death and having her die would, of course, be traumatic, but showing her living instead i think ruins any takeaways people could have. i’ve never had cancer but as a chronically ill person i think i can speak to how you never actually win with illness; the best you can do is tie, and sometimes, no matter how much effort you put in, you “lose” anyway, you lose spectacularly, and all of your effort was for nothing. i wholeheartedly believe that humans can’t emotionally or logically process natural disasters or illness, hence why much of the talk about illness in this is from mulder’s perspective as he experiences her terminal illness secondhand; that way, he doesn’t need to (but still likely will) find logic or reason or meaning for death from a terminal illness, so his discoveries and his coping mechanisms aren’t as urgently needed. had i written a chapter that describes how she lives, i think that the discussion of death in this would be voided altogether. and i also don’t believe the ending would be much different whether she lives or dies; there’s still the need for death acceptance and talking about dying, whether or not she lives, and none of the story in this fic would have happened had the characters known she would live. the whole point is not knowing.

for a little while i toyed with writing an unofficial sequel of sorts in which i spelled out what i think happens after the ending, but after realizing that that would end up being longer than the original fic and would also have some massive plot holes, i decided against it. i do have my own version and i don’t want to share that version because i never really intended for my version to be some kind of genuine sequel in which every question gets answered and everything is wrapped up and happy ever after and whatnot. it was just where my brain wandered in the same way it wanders when i watch an open-ended movie. all of that to say, if you think she lives, then she lives. if you think she dies, then she dies. it’s your decision. i’d much rather you choose than me. i never marked this as “major character” death on ao3 because, well, she doesn’t die in this fic. whether or not she dies after the fic ends, that’s for you to decide.

thank you for taking the time to read my writing. i never expected this to blow up (it blew up for me at least, for a while it was my most popular fic ever, with i think thousands more hits than anything else i’d written) and the response has been mind-boggling and wonderful. i don’t respond to comments often because it makes me feel like a pompous jerk (”thank you for enjoying this! i, too, enjoy this thing i have written! oh ho ho!” is how it sounds to me in my head, whereas when other writers respond to comments to me it just looks like thanks man have a good day, feel free to call me a weenie) but i’ve appreciated all of them very much. THANK YOU! i hope your new year is a Whole Lot Less Shit than 2020. i don’t plan on writing more msr because i don’t really have any ideas for them. thank you for making my last time special <3

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the-final-sif · 4 years

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Just read you recent think on Mitsuki, and while I agree with some things, you're forgetting a lot. Like how Mitsuki is so ready to trust UA cuz Aizawa seems to understand Katsuki. Or how, in the first ep flashback, Katsuki just got praise for his 'stupid awesome quirk' without deserving that praise. Or, you know, how Katsuki got to the point in middle school where he was telling Izuku to jump off a building? And the sports festival? Katsuki probably would have laughed if it hadn't been him.

I’m not forgetting any of that, they’re all things that have been taken into consideration and either aren’t important to the situation, or are part of what I’m talking about.

To break this down,

I don’t care if she thinks that UA “understands” Katsuki, her child was kidnapped and held hostage for 2 days, and forced to fight for his life multiple times against several adult villains. The only thing that stopped the villians from murdering/torturing/turning Katsuki into a nomu/etc, was that they decided not to during that 2 day period. Even if she’s willing to forgive UA/Aizawa and understands that the situation was bad by all accounts, she could still show at least a little concern for her child’s physical and mental safety after he was kidnapped. The idea that she really believes a school “understanding” Katsuki and not praising him too much is more important then the fact he got kidnapped for and was held by villains for 2 days, speaks volumes on it’s own.

Also, it’s worth noting that Aizawa and UA do not understand Katsuki. They fail him multiple times, and call out in canon that they did so. Including; The Sports Festival, The kidnapping, & the aftermath of the kidnapping. Even going so far as to say that they neglected his mental health, in canon. They’ve messed up with him multiple times, and while it’s good that Aizawa doesn’t let him get away with bullshit, that doesn’t mean that they’ve done much to help him either.

Yes, Katsuki got a lot of praise as a child. I could talk for ages about gifted child syndrome and how that built up unrealistic expectations on him such that he believes he’s not allowed to make mistakes and takes responsibility for way to much as a result. However, this isn’t something I forgot in my original post. In my original post, the point was that Mitsuki acts/talks about it in such a way that implies that just sort of happened, when in reality that is on her and Marasu for not parenting Katsuki correctly. If they had raised him better, taught him to be kinder to others, put him into anger management/therapy, taught him how to handle his emotions in a health way, etc, he would be a much different person. But they didn’t, yet she still talks about it like she had no hand in it.

Also, again, as I said in my original post, a big part of this is timing. If this was just a PTA meeting or something, I’d have a very different opinion on this entire thing. But that’s not what this is. This is a meeting right after he got kidnapped, at a point where he likely still very shaken from the experience, and where he’s likely being dealing with a lot of negative media attention online. If there is any point in his life where he needs support from his parents, this is that time. I don’t care if he’s been a shitty kid in his life, right after he just got kidnapped is a time when he needs love and support from his parents. Not them talking about how shitty he is to his teachers while he’s still trying to recover from that.

That really has no baring on the conversation, at all. Was Katsuki telling Izuku to jump off a building unacceptable? Yes. However, neither Katsuki’s parents, nor Aizawa/All-Might have any idea that that event transpired. It’s called out in canon that what happened that day was unusual for Katsuki, that was not a normal interaction between him and Izuku. It was also something that happened when Katsuki was 14, ~2 ish years prior to the conversation I’m talking about.

Katsuki was an asshole, particularly to Izuku, when he was a kid. He still has a lot of those tendencies. That in no way negates the fact that after he was kidnapped is a wildly inappropriate time to start ragging on his flaws, alongside blaming him for getting kidnapped in the first place. Instead, that’s the sort of thing to be worked on through therapy and teaching over time. Or just, to be talked about at any other time besides right after he got kidnapped.

Also, it might be worth reflecting on why he was an asshole, where he learned to behave that way, and why he considers his own words/actions acceptable. Because as it turns out, kids don’t develop those habits out of thin air.

Here’s the thing, you can say that Katsuki would be laughing if it was anyone but him chained up at the sports festival, but I’d argue that he wouldn’t, because nobody else would ever be chained up at the sports festival. Neither the school, nor the author, could ever get away with that for any other student in class 1-A. If Shouto had refused to use his fire on Izuku, causing Izuku to win the fight and Izuku to follow him out of bounds in frustration and reject the first place medal, we all know damn well that he would’ve been allowed to walk away from it. Hell, we actually see Ojiro resigning after round 2 because he felt like he hadn’t earned his win, and he was allowed to do that without any issue. The only one who isn’t given the right to say no, and the only one who would ever be chained up to that podium is Katsuki.

And that comes down to the fact that because Katsuki refuses a lot of things, both on a character and reader level, people stop caring about whether or not he consents to things. They get used to forcing him to do things, and so that becomes normal and acceptable. He’s seen and portrayed as inheritable violent, uncontrollable, and “bad” which means they treat him in ways that would never be acceptable for other characters, and it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy as he sees himself that way. This happens on every level, be it touch, the sports festival, izuku following him around, etc. Katsuki is basically never respected when he tries to say no to something unless he steadfastly enforces that boundary through physical force.

That’s why Aizawa calls out what happened at the sports festival as a failure on UA’s part. Because that’s what it was.

That’s also why we see Tomura with the photo of Katsuki at the sports festival, and why Tomura thought Katsuki would join him. Tomura understands what it’s like to be seen and treated as monstrous, to be seen and treated as fundamentally destructive and dangerous, and he assumed that Katsuki would want to join him to be free of that.

When Tomura has restraints taken off Katsuki when asking him to make his choice, it’s because he understands how Katsuki’s been treated, and he’s playing to that. He explicitly says that they need to treat Katsuki as an equal, and to prove that he means that, the restraints have to come off. He also calls out that he’s not worried about Katsuki fighting back, because he believes Katsuki is smarter then that (which was a miscalculation on his part, not because Katsuki isn’t smart enough to know not to fight back, but because he underestimated Katsuki’s convictions and personal morals).

What Tomura is doing there is a very significant and important demonstration. He’s showing Katsuki through actions, that he is willing to treat him like a human being, even if the heroes aren’t. Tomura is showing basic respect for Katsuki, however undermined by the kidnapping it may be, moreso then his teachers/the heroes did, by allowing him his freedom when making a choice. Perhaps even more important, he’s showing that he sees Katsuki as capable of restraining himself, and of being non-destructive. What he’s really offering Katsuki there is proof that he is willing to treat him better then the heroes did, and that’s why he believes Katsuki will join him.

Anyways, the long and the short of it is that no, I did not forget any of that when I was making my prior post. I did consider all of those things on some level, and they don’t change my opinion that how Mitsuki behaved after the kidnapping is indicative of her being a bad parent, and that were this another character or if the gender roles of the situation were reversed, then I feel strongly that this wouldn’t even be a debate in the fandom.

That being said, who knows what direction canon will takes this. I’m hopeful that the issue will be explored more thoroughly, but we may very well never see Mitsuki in canon again. I’m also not saying that anyone else has to agree with me. My own opinions are not universal truth, and we really have very little canon interactions with Mitsuki and know so little about Katsuki’s childhood in general that nearly anything is possible. I can definitely appreciate Good Parent Mitsuki headcanons, and I’ve read some great fics with those sorts of takes. But my opinion on the matter is the above.

#katsuki bakugou #mitsuki bakugou #masaru bakugou #bnha #mha #character analysis #sif speaks #sif answers #my headcanons #mysticwolfshadows

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

OC test:Speech!

[everyone shall be put in front of crowd and say something. Think of it like rallying troops, orientation, declaring war, whatever. The crowd is 500 strong.]

All the characters stand on a stage, overlooking the wave of people. Jacquelyn stands behind a podium with a microphone while everyone waits their turn.

Jacquelyn:Ummmm, sup? Not much for speeches so I’ll keep this brief. I don’t know what problems you all have, your background, or where you’re heading. What I do know is I’m down to listen to all of it. A traveler loves a good story, so make it your best.

The crowd of people seem a bit caught off gaurd, yet enlightened. They lightly clap and nod as she bows before letting Sienna take the spotlight.

Jacquelyn:Good luck!

Sienna:(How the hell do I follow that up!?)

Sienna:*clears throat* Yo, my name is Sienna Frost. The lovely lady before me was my mother if anyone was wondering. I might have two sets of ears but I assure you, story time isn’t my favorite thing. You wanna show me who you are, then do it instead. As far as mine goes, don’t worry where I’ve been. Just watch where I’m headed. I just might surprise you.

She held up a peace sign and made her exit, leaving the crowd with nothing to say. It would’ve felt like going against her words. Jael came up next. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The girl chose to back away then began to float up to draw everyone’s direction.

Jael:Remember, on the ground or in the air, look up to me.

That’s all she said before leaving. All the characters were absolutely stunned. Even Carmine. She was sure she’d be the only one to say something wild. Yujin awkwardly walked up next. People immediately started to smile and seem pleasantly surprised.

Yujin:By the looks of some of you, I take it you see my mother’s face in me? That’s fine, it’ll make this easier. Yujin Xiao Long, the girl that’ll be in future text books. Until then, watch me do my thang!

She gave the crowd a prideful smile and a fist bump into the air to hype them up. The crowd did it back and cheered. Tenzen used that energy and added it to his own charisma, choosing to stand on the podium.

Tenzen:Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about. Those with heart of fire and wild dreams, stick around! We’ll have the time of our lives! Never stop doing what you want!

The crowd got even more hyped as him and Yujin high fived before running off stage into the crowd itself. Everybody was given a high five and watched both leave as they laughed. Nick was next to go up. To get their attention, Nick made a glyph in the sky that made it snow. A quick change in the crowds attitude was immediately noticed as they stared at the dignified young man show his usual charming smile and kind eyes that made the women blush and most of the men jealous.

Nick:Good evening, I’m glad to see everyone so lively. As heir to a company you would think I’d be good a speeches. To be honest, I’m panicking inside right now. I made it snow, who just does that!?

The question got the crowd to laugh a little. Jealous faces unknowingly got a little softer.

Nick:Anyways, I just wanna tell everyone here that no matter the situation, lean on me. If not, then those you care about and have better spending habits. Hehe, I think I’ve said enough. Thanks and I hope you all have a good time listening to everyone else.

Crowd:(He’s so polite...)

Snowflakes crew:(There he goes, charming the masses like usual.)

Summer walked up next. Much like her twin brother, a glyph formed in her hand that quickly mixed with fire dust in her clothing. The warm of brace of embers flew out of it like a flicker camp fire that was drawn toward the snow. The gentle blend of fire and iced danced in air around the crowd, leaving them amazed. Summer was no stranger to a crowd or a stage. This might be her easiest test yet. The girl sung a simple word that enchanted everyone like a siren spell. “Mirror~”

Summer:I hope you all enjoyed that little tease. I typically like to warm my voice before addressing an audience so I though of that on the fly. Anyways-

The crowd interrupted her with applause. She hadn’t even spoken what was on her mind and they were hooked! Summer chose to accept it and made her way off the stage. It was even easier than she thought. She turned to Veronica and stuck her tongue out. The faunus responsed by flipping her off and walking away.

Eliza:You’re not making a speech?

Veronica:No, I hate people and do this sort of thing too much. I’m goons go draw or some shit. (Summer can’t say she had a better speech if I never do one.)

Valerie:Wait, this is optional? Guess I’ll leave too.

Eliza:At least day a sentence you two!

Both girls rolled their eyes and walked up together.

Veronica:Sometimes being the change you want and the change the world needs are two different things entirely; acknowledge way and take the step forward, not backwards.

Valerie:A jack of all trades is an ace to no one. Not that it’s a bad thing. Just find the other playing card.

The girls waved to the crowd and went off. Valerie started thinking, which card was she? Nick clapped for the two of them like he always does. Eliza took the opportunity to step forward. A snap of her fingers negated all the semblances still at play. Eliza took a running start to hop off the stage and land with a mighty thump that started a wave of sprouting flowers. This was beginning to be more of a talent show then a public speaking test. What was once winter had turned into spring!

Eliza:Sorry, but I think being eye level and warm with you all is far more appealing. I doubt many of you have heard of the a Marigolds but that’s fine. All you have to know is I’m the one who will elevate their status. Playing nice with others isn’t my strongest quality but fairness is. If by any miracle fate comes to join us together for a purpose, I promise I’ll stand by to the very end and pull out all the stops. I simply ask to put in all the effort you can as well.

A gust of wind came by and swept petals into the air as Eliza did a curtsy. As far as theatrics go, it was show, but more than that. It was the truth. A fair and honest truth. Like a gentle breeze on a spring day. Sparrow stood up to go next.

Sparrow:I....do not care about outcomes.

Crowd:.....What?

OCs:Yeah, what?

Sparrow:Good, bad, surprising, or boring; those concepts don’t apply whenever I’m sailing across the seas with passengers and crew mates. Everything that happens is apart of epic journey. Now I’m not gonna stand here and act like I’m anything special, because I’m not. All the same I am a captain and a damn good one at that. For those who passing through life with ambition in their hearts and freedom through their veins, sail with me. You might just be surprised. Thank you for your time.

The ex-military man put on his captain’s hat and walked away, never looking back at the crowds faces. All he heard were the footsteps of those who dared to follow him. The allure of his words reached some of the young men and women. 500 became 450. Kovu felt nervous, but a bit more confident as he went up to go next. All the women, children, sons and daughters, he looked at them in a different light because of Sparrow.

Kovu:Before Sparrow went up here I had the idea of talking about my family and how they motivate me to do my best. While that is true, now I can’t help but sing a different tune. This isn’t my first time with a microphone in front of my face and it probably won’t be the last. It’s what happens when you’re a Belladonna and your other mom is a top rate huntress. Still, it doesn’t feel real that I should get a microphone and a podium because of that; I’m just a regular guy. Being down there feels more comfortable to me than being up here ever will. Average strength, intelligence, normal qualities, but I guess that last one is debatable.

Carmine:Yeah, you dork!

The crowd and Kovu chuckled at the call out. Carmine didn’t know people too well, but she knew Kovu well enough to know when he’s being hard on himself. She spoke up more for his benefit than anybody else.

Kovu:The point is I’m stunned that despite me just being some normal person, I’m very thankful for the fact that you all stand before me to listen. That’s what motivates me most. Thanks, I’ll keep doing my best.

The crowd happily applauded for him. No fancy tricks or even something to leave the biggest impression. Just a boy who made a speech. On a stage full of giants in their own right, having Kovu being so relatable was a breath of fresh air in its own way. Carmine gave him a thumbs up and finally stepped forward. She ignored the podium entirely, choosing to project her voice to all who looked. The commanding yet calm presence she gave off was already at play.

Carmine: Once upon a time my mother Ruby Rose saved the world. She did it with strength, intelligence, and kindness above all. Her dream to protect others fueled her keep striving towards a happy ending. That same compassion wasn’t paid forward unfortunately and my mother suffered a loss some time later that nearly broke her. My mother wasn’t a very religious person until that incident from what people tell me, but it helped give her peace of my. Everyday she prayed to her god for the strength to press and breathe new life into her symbolically. Until one day it became literal. She asked her god for strength and he gave her me. I’m hopes and dreams given flesh. Not just hers, but I’m yours too. *points to the crowd* To all of you good people wanting peace and needing a defender of your normal life, pick whatever god you worship and thank him for me. To those who decide to rot the world they live in with hate and malice, choose a god and make your peace when you meet me. My name is Carmine Arc Rose, the greatest huntress, no, the greatest huntsman in general to ever walk Remnant. I’ll move forward first to keep you all safe. See you at the finish line, eventually.

Her body faded away into rose petals that were carried into the wind. She was never there to begin with. Carmine had more important things to do. The crowd once again fell silent as the petals kept scattering. All the other testers were at a loss for words themselves, except Kovu.

Kovu:Oh boy, as blunt as ever. To think she’d declare her standing among them like that? She might’ve just told them out right how far away they are compared to her.

Yujin:That was badass!

Sienna:More like cocky. She said she’s the greatest huntsman ever. What does that make her mom?

Kovu:The greatest hero. There’s a difference between the two in Carmine’s eyes. Try not to bring it up though. It’s a can of worms she won’t answer. Ruby is no doubt a Great huntsman but....Carmine has feelings about that title.

A petal gently fell into his hand before taking flight again. Aero still silently resting in the question tree with Carmine sleeping under it. Her little brother fast asleep in her lap. An exceptional huntsman yes, but an even better big sister.

#rwby #oc test #rwbabies #jacquelyn frost #sienna frost #jael frost #yujin xiao long #lie tenzen #nicholas schnee #eliza marigold #val valkyrie #veronica belladonna #summer schnee #sparrow branwen #carmine arc rose #kovu belladonna

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tsipasce · 4 years

Text

Same Difference, Ch.09

A/N: FYI, this part gets a bit violent. No domestic abuse or anything like that, just a good ol’ fashioned fight scene. Anybutts, hope y'all enjoy~

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

AO3 | Fanfic

Nanami began walking down the now-familiar, winding hallways from her tea break to return to the lab. She wasn’t ready to examine the feelings she’d had after her spat with Overhaul, especially the ones that caused her such sadness at the thought of not seeing him again. In the back of her mind, she knew whatever she was feeling could simply be the result of successful manipulation on his part, but it didn’t change the relief she felt knowing they’d continue working together. Hoping to push away the thoughts before facing him again, she decided to focus on her efforts to find a suitable class for self-defense. Sure, Hitomi had a point in that it would at the very least be a confidence booster, but Nanami felt like she needed more.

I know Kurono said it was a cheap shot in a 1 vs. 30 battle royale, but still. * BANG* If Overhaul, ~*killer extraordinaire*~ can get injured like that, * BANG* I might as well be a sitting duck. Nanami concluded, remembering that she had involved herself in a world much more dangerous than she wanted to acknowledge. But where in the world am I gonna find * BANG* a class that’ll * BANG, BANG* teach me how to survive a fight to * BANG* the * BANG, BANG* death? * BANG, BANG, BANG* Ok, what the hell is making all that noise? Nanami thought now annoyed at whatever had been interrupting her train of thought.

Following the sound, she found the source of the noise: a very large man beating a block of concrete in the training room as though his life depended on it. She watched for a moment in amazement as his fists covered in heavy, metal gauntlets wore down one block of concrete after the next, ignoring the traditional workout equipment. He stopped for a beat, sensing her watching him from the doorway.

“Hey, doc. What brings you here?”

“Hi Rappa, it’s nothing, just heard a lot of commotion and wanted to make sure everything was alright. Don’t mind me!”

Shrugging, he continued training, now moving to weightlifting. Man, this is nothing like the classes I sat in on. I wonder what kind of training you’d have to get to be this proficient… I wish I could… Oh, duh. Nanami thought at the epiphany.

“Hey, Rappa, can I ask you a question?” Nanami asked, with a plan already in mind.

“Who’s gonna stop you?”

“True. Have you ever tried teaching anyone?”

“A couple times, but most don’t last too long. They lack the warrior spirit.”

“So… if someone did have this ‘warrior spirit’, you’d consider taking them on, right?”

“It would be a dream come true, to trade blows with another man, hellbent on victory! They’d have to prove their mettle, but nothing would bring me more joy!” He exclaimed and she could tell he was already daydreaming about the next fight.

“Well, what if there was a person that was hellbent on victory and had a true warrior spirit... but they were a woman. Would you train them?”

“Impossible.” He responded immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Nanami queried, a bit miffed at how sure of his answer he was.

“They don’t have it in their nature. Besides, we yakuza have a code of chivalry. I could never fight a broad.”

“Even if said broad could kick your ass?” Now she was pissed.

He laughed heartily, “The day I meet a woman like that, will be the same day Mimic can keep his mouth shut for more than 5 seconds. Or when hell freezes over, whichever comes first.”

“Well get ready for 5 seconds of bliss and Satan in some long johns because that woman is here.” Nanami said with a renewed sense of resolve.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’ll talk to you later, Rappa.”

“Uh… Ok, see ya later, doc.”

On the remainder of the walk back, Nanami practiced her proposal in her head. She knew it might be a hard sell, but she was determined. Bursting through the door, she saw Overhaul focused on his laptop, going through some data sheets. Aw, he looks so peaceful—no, snap out of it. Back on task. Nanami chastised herself, though she was happy knowing she’d be able to see him like this regularly since they’d done their version of making up earlier. Focusing on the task at hand, she spoke confidently,” Overhaul, I need to borrow one of your bullets.”

“Who do you need taken care of?” he turned to her, a serious look in his eyes.

“Wait what?”

“What?”

They exchanged looks of equal confusion, before realizing what the other meant. “Oh no, no, no—I don’t need anyone ‘taken care of’, I want to take care of them myself—but not like that…”

“It would be clearer if you referred to them as the Eight Bullets or Eight Precepts of Death in the future.”

“Oh, yeah that sounds way cooler.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Tch. Of course, it does.” He said turning and she could tell he was grateful in his own way of the compliment. “What do you need them for?”

“I don’t need all of them, just Rappa. And I want... no, I need him to train me.”

“Why do you need him to train you? It’s you and I who share the same quirk…” He trailed off at the last part.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, it’s just that I... I want to learn hand-to hand combat. I want to protect myself. I need to. You were right earlier when you said I’ve entered a world that prioritizes violence. It’s not that I want to prioritize it myself, but I know it would be naïve of me to be unprepared.” She replied resolutely.

“Of course, I was right.”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“However, I fail to see how this benefits me. Technically speaking, you have yet to rectify the power imbalance between us; you being able to completely negate my attacks is… problematic. Making you stronger would border on foolishness on my part.”

“So, you plan on attacking me in the future?”

“No, but the point still stands and the question remains: what do I have to gain from this?”

Nanami’s resolve did not waiver. She had the answer to this one, “An ally.”

His eyes narrowed at her, almost cautioning her to use her words wisely, but he continued to listen, pushing his laptop to the side. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t serve you or be an accomplice, nor conspirator to any crimes. However, I will not plot against you, attack you without proper provocation, and if you’re in a bind like tonight, I will be there. In addition to this… I’ll tell you how I was able to negate your attack. It’s still a working theory, but I’d be willing to share and practice it with you until it’s fully proven. I can teach you, but only after Rappa has trained me and you teach me a defensive move using Overhaul. This way, we will be equal, for the most part.”

He stared at her searchingly, considering her proposal. After letting her squirm for a bit in suspense, he responded,” It cannot interfere with our organization’s daily dealings or our work in the lab.”

“Of course.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Also, could you talk to Rappa for me? You know the whole chivalry thing…” She trailed off hoping he would catch her drift.

“You’re just full of requests today.” He said, slightly annoyed as she raised her brows waiting for an answer, “He will comply. You may have to prove yourself, but he will comply.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was decided that Nanami would be tested by Rappa a week from the day. If she wasn’t sure about the nature of the test, it was certainly made clear when Rappa explained in a way only he could:

“I’ll take it easy since you’re a woman. If you can make me surrender, I’ll teach you.”

Such a generous soul~ Nanami mused to herself after pushing through the fourth lap. She didn’t expect to become a prize fighter in a week, but not getting winded just by going up the stairs at work was a good start. She’d kept somewhat in shape and had grown up doing club sports in school, but nothing she could think of that would constitute a “warrior spirit”. Looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this…

Checking her watch, she realized she had just enough time to make an important call before her next appointment. “Hey Miki, how’ve you been?... That’s awesome, I’m doing alright myself… Hm? No, no we’re still on for dinner Thursday, I just had a favor to ask… Could I join you for some freerunning this week?... Nevermind why I’m breathing so heavy! Can I come? ...Thank you, Thank you, Thank you—I’ll see you at the station by your place. Bye!” The phone clicked.

She wouldn’t become a master in a week—maybe not even an intermediate level fighter—but at least she could have a sliver of a chance at winning Rappa over. With her plan coming together, she pushed for another lap, a little more confidence in her step than before.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A week came and went, now Nanami stood in front of her closet, unsure of what to wear.

“What do you usually wear to a fight anyway…” She pondered, remembering what every fighting person she knew wore on a regular basis. Rappa wore jeans and a t-shirt, “If I can’t sleep in jeans, how the hell am I supposed to fight in them? Next.” Overhaul wore business attire, “The man’s an enigma, not even realistic to compare wardrobe choices there…Wait.” Nanami had an epiphany. Her fighting style, if she could call it that yet, wasn’t much like either of theirs from what she knew. Deciding it would be smartest to wear what she’d been training in that week of preparation, she got changed and hurried over.

Rushing her park job, she sat in her car for a beat, trying to catch her breath. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been a nervous wreck anticipating her “trial by fire” today. Even with a plan, it would be hard to predict how she’d react in the moment when her safety was on the line. After rejecting her quirk and consequently, her body, for such a long time, it seemed like an impossible task to lean on it completely, to trust it, but what choice do I have? Nanami asked herself with equal measures of resignation and resolve. Deciding it was do or di—nope, gotta use a better phrase. We are not speaking the possibility of death into existence. Not today. Deciding it was now or never, Nanami took a deep breath, centering herself as she worked up the nerve to exit her car and march to the base and down to the training room.

Stopping in front of the entrance, she exhaled deeply once again, pushing the large door open. Upon opening it, she saw Rappa rotating his shoulders and stretching his arms. She gulped heavily, remembering his quirk, Strongarm, would soon be used on her. Focusing on her opponent, she hadn’t noticed someone else standing in the corner by the door.

“If you focus any harder, you’ll pop a blood vessel.” Said a familiar voice, startling her from her thoughts.

She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm down, “Oh my gosh you scared the shit out of me… and leave me alone. Everyone has their own way of preparing, I’m just… figuring mine out.”

“That and your sparring attire.” Overhaul responded too quickly for her liking, giving her a once over.

Defensively pulling her tracksuit closed, she gave him a look,” Did you come to roast me or root for me?”

“Neither. I am merely here to supervise. Whether you win or not is none of my concern.”

“Aaaand this is why I didn’t ask you to train me. If you need me, I’ll be stretching over there, ref.”

Nanami rolled her eyes, making her way to what she figured would be her side of the arena. The training room was large with two sections; one part took up a third of the room, hosting a myriad of traditional gym equipment and weights. The other part which was the arena, took up the remaining two thirds and was outlined on the floor in white with room on the sidelines for observers …and sassy referees. Nanami thought, remembering his dig from earlier.

Removing her tracksuit, she donned black leggings and a matching, sleeveless workout top. It was sleek and formfitting, maximizing her range of mobility. After she completed a couple toe touches, lunges and back stretches, Rappa took a step forward into the ring, “Alright, you know the rules! I’m making it easy on you by only asking for a surrender, but I won’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t want you too. Let’s do this.” Nanami said, her game face on and her voice confident in an effort to override the doubts she had in her head.

“Now that’s the spirit! Come at me, doc!”

Getting into a stance, Nanami made a B-line towards Rappa, sprinting at full speed. He braced himself in a defensive stance, ready to attack when she came within striking distance. He was wearing his mask, but she could feel how serious the mood of the room had gotten. Just stick to the plan, it’ll all be ok, she said, steeling herself from further doubt. Focusing, she saw the second he was readying himself to take his first swing. Just then, she slid and dodged, slapping her hand firmly on the ground as she slid, sending a ripple in the direction she was headed, a pillar forming. She then slid past the new structure, extended her arms, and grabbed onto the pillar to swing herself back in his direction at full force. Keeping both her feet together she surprised him, landing a solid kick to the face. She followed through as he staggered, and she landed, rolling to minimize the impact. Before she could appreciate the look of surprise on Overhaul’s face, Rappa had recovered. Her refresher course on parkour with Miki had paid off and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“Now that was good. Give me more!” He exclaimed, punching the ground, barely missing her head as she dodged. Nanami had been fast, but Rappa was much more agile than he looked. She’d done some research on his quirk, but no amount of reading could have prepared her for the reality of it. Though it probably wouldn’t have seemed threatening if it had belonged to someone else, it suited him perfectly. He didn’t just have a quirk, he had a set of skills and used it to amplify them. Even without the added power, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Before she had the chance to think too much, he struck again and again, dodging becoming more difficult with each blow. Deciding to act, she erected more pillars.

“Putting up a wall for protection won’t gain you a surrender—come and fight me!” He warned, charging towards her.

“Who said these were for my protection?” Nanami responded as she ran. She launched herself to gain enough momentum, bouncing between the pillars, she managed to land a punch to his side, just beneath his ribs, earning her a grunt. Now more confident, she went in for a second attack, this time she was going to aim for his chin, hoping to knock him out. In this movement, her lack of combat training caused her to make a grave error: she was wide open. By the time she saw Rappa winding up for an uppercut, it was too late to react. He landed a solid blow to her abdomen before grabbing her like a ragdoll, tossing her clear across the room and into the wall on the opposite side of the arena. Her back hit the wall with a thud, and she gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of her. She was certain she’d broken a rib or two. She fell on all fours, heaving as she grasped at the broken parts of her rib cage. She coughed up blood, accepting the consequences of being hit in real combat. When she expelled more of the red liquid from her mouth, she could’ve sworn she saw Overhaul reflexively lunge towards her. Without thinking she raised a hand motioning him to stop whatever he planned on doing, the other still clutching her side. Looking over to him, her expression must have relayed her determination. He took a step back, his face expressionless once again.

Reaching under her shirt to the affected area, she felt for a moment and healed herself, the sound of bones cracking back into place echoing throughout the room. She rose again, steadying herself as she took up her stance once again, “I’m not done yet.” Nanami gritted.

His mask was now ripped from her previous blows she could see a large smile forming. “Now that’s the look I want to see. IF YOU WANT VICTORY, COME AND TAKE IT WITH YOUR FISTS!”

Nanami charged forward, landing some solid blows as using her ability to manipulate the arena to her advantage. Though she’d used her quirk on their surroundings, she’d yet to use it on her opponent directly. Deep down, she was still too afraid to use it in that way. The only “fight” she’d ever used it against someone was when Overhaul and her first met, but really it was just a means to escape. Even in the face of danger, she found herself more afraid of losing control like she had all those years ago. As she hesitated, Rappa landed another solid blow, this time to her shoulder, dislocating it. She managed to stifle a scream of pain, but she knew this was bad. Before she had time to heal, he was charging towards her once again. She had enough mobility to dodge some of his blows, but not all of them. She couldn’t heal herself quickly enough to keep up with his attacks. He landed another to her ribs, a fist to her back and a knee to her abdomen. Rappa was enjoying himself and she was becoming less and less sure that he remembered this was a duel to a surrender and not to the death.

Completely forgetting where she was in her panic, an immense sense of danger crashed over her, the adrenaline taking over giving her tunnel vision. Judging by how he wound up, the next blow could have certainly killed her. She braced for impact, no longer thinking strategy and then… nothing. All she felt was the gust of wind that came from his fist stopping near her face and his breath on the back of her hand. Focusing her vision, she realized she had her finger pointed, mere inches from his neck and Rappa was frozen in his place, careful not to even clear his throat. Nanami hadn’t realized it, but her eyes were almost black and her face that of a cornered animal. She would have obliterated him had he not stopped short, an experience he wasn’t quick to relive a sixth time.

A smile slowly crept back across his face and Nanami was snapped out of her trance by the sound of jovial laughter. “I surrender, doc. THAT WAS GREAT! The look on your face right now, it’s perfect! I’ll see ya Thursday for training.” He boomed before shaking her hand that was aimed to kill him mere seconds ago. “I gotta make my rounds, but I’m looking forward to working with ya, doc. You’re one tough broad!” He said as he continued laughing to himself, exiting the room.

This whole place is just a dozen different flavors of crazy… I almost killed him, Nanami thought to herself, happy to have passed his trial, but terrified at the possibility of repeating “the incident”. Losing control scared her more than anything, but deep down she knew in order to master her quirk, she would have to take the risk and use it first. One step at a time, Nanami reassured herself, quelling the effects of the traumatic memories. In reality, she knew whatever training he could give her would far surpass any of the self-defense classes she was going to settle for before. She wasn’t just going to be confident; she was going to be prepared. Just as she was riding the waves of her victory, the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain came washed over her like a tsunami. It left her breathless for a moment and all she wanted was to cry out but couldn’t as she felt one of her ribs pushing into her lung. Now laying on her back, she focused on moving the arm that wasn’t dislocated to her side, repairing her ribs and internal organs.

As she sat up to kneel on the floor and heal her shoulder, she heard footsteps coming towards her. “You’re going to have to get quicker at recovering if you plan on standing a chance the next time.” He said, looking down at her exhausted form still seated on the floor.

“I know.” Nanami sighed, reflecting on her sluggish reflexes with a bit of disappointment.

He stood in place, examining her for a beat. Suddenly something white entered her line of sight. Lifting her gaze, she saw his gloved hand extended to help her up, though his face was turned away. Quickly brushing off her surprise at his gesture, she patted her palms on her sides, before clasping his hand. He lifted her up with ease, and had she not already tempted death once today, she would have jokingly asked for a piggyback ride. Now standing close, their hands remained clasped between them longer than she expected. Craning her neck to make eye contact, she could tell he was thinking, his gaze unwavering with an emotion she couldn’t name. Just as she was about to get lost in those golden eyes, he spoke “You smell terrible.”

Ah. The ~emotion~ was in fact just stank face. Should’ve known he’d say something like that... She thought as her face dropped into one of exasperation.

“That, my very rude friend, is the smell of victory, so take a big whiff.” She retorted, moving past him, flipping her hair as she sashayed over to her bag to collect her things.

“Still wreaks… however, your performance was impressive, for an amateur.” The last part added as though it would break the very laws of nature itself to award a compliment without a catch. “See you tomorrow.” He remarked, leaving the room.

Her back was still turned as she zipped her bag, trying her best to hide the small smile that rested on her now proud face. “See you tomorrow.”

#overhaul #overhaul x oc #overhaul fanfiction #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #kendo rappa #bnha fanfic #mha oc #mha overhaul #mha fanfic #overhaul fanfic

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thisselflovecamebacktome · 3 years

Text

My personal connection with Taylor’s discography, part eleven: Happiness

Basically this is just a series I’m doing where I write down my feelings on what each of the Taylor songs means to me personally on a line to line basis both for my own sake to have it somewhere and for anyone who wants to know anything further about me.

So with that in mind, let’s get started.

Happiness

So much like the majority of Evermore and Folklore, Happiness reminds me of my family and the trauma of losing them which I’m trying to move past. Particularly, Happiness is the connecting point of the progress I’ve made moving forth and the reality that there’s still a long way to go and wishing I was further along the recovery road.

Honey, when I'm above the trees I see this for what it is

I feel like this lyric is pretty much what it’s like on ‘good’ days. Like when I have removed myself enough from the situation and pain, I can rationalise to myself that what happened to my family wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just a bunch of well meaning people who made choices they thought were for the best but ultimately did more harm than good. I can also acknowledge that what happened was probably for the best and that while I’m in pain now, it probably would have been worse otherwise.

But now I'm right down in it, all the years I've given is just shit we're dividin' up

But most days aren’t ‘good’ days. Most days, it feels inescapable that I gave between 16 to 23 years to these people that were meant to love me unconditionally for my whole lifetime just for them to decide that what we had wasn’t worth sticking around for. Most days, I can’t move past the bitterness that I have knowing that I feel like I’ve wasted my life because genuinely lived my life as a mirrorball and gave my all to make these people happy and keep us together just for it all to fall apart anyway.

Showed you all of my hiding spots

I’ve always been an oversharer that kept her heart on her sleeve. I genuinely feel like I showed my family, and especially my immediate family, every version of myself. My highs, my lows, my strengths, my weaknesses, my likes and dislikes; I showed it all.

I was dancing when the music stopped

I’ve mentioned this a few times in this project, but despite the issues my family had, I really fucking believed we’d get out of this okay and that the others wanted to. And I wore rose coloured glasses as things were ending and people were showing their true colours because I wanted so badly to believe that it was just a bad fight and once things cooled down, everyone would pitch in to fix things. So when it finally hit that none of them truly wanted to fix things, I realised that the music had stopped years beforehand and I had just been living in my own fantasy world dancing to a beat that wasn’t there.

And in the disbelief, I can't face reinvention. I haven’t met the new me yet

I saw a post recently that said this line is pretty much Right Where You Left Me condensed into one lyric and genuinely I have not seen anything more correct in years. Like I am still sitting here nearly six years after this started and nearly four years since I finally accepted it (god realising it’s been that long hit me like a fucking truck, not gonna lie) wondering who the fuck am I meant to be now? Like even without feeling like I devoted my life/existence for these people, who are you meant to be if not a reflection of the people who raised you and were meant to love you unconditionally?

There'll be happiness after you

I know I will get my balance back one day and be happy. There’s a lot of practical steps that need to happen first, but I know I’ll get there. And even though I wish it was with my family, I’ve accepted that it won’t be and it can’t be dependent on them or else I’m going to end up like my mother and never happy.

But there was happiness because of you

As much as I still cuss out my family, particularly my father, I grew up as a daddy’s girl and family orientated person and not all of that was negative. Though I can’t currently look back at them without crying, I have photos of birthdays, concerts, events, holidays and even just random day to day life at home that brought me so much joy. Likewise, though not directly involved, I would not have had one of the best experiences in my life of going to Japan with my school had my parents not cared enough to work their ass off for it. And though it’s hard to remember at times, especially on bad days, that is just as important to remember as the fact I’m going to be happy one day if I truly want to heal.

Both of these things can be true

Like I said, both past and future happiness is important and doesn’t negate each other. I can accept that someone from my past that made me happy isn’t going to be the one that does it in my future without either being more or lesser than the other.

There is happiness past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall

Growing up in a mentally, emotionally and at times physically abusively household has left me with a lot of scars and while there’s no way to ‘prove’ it, I genuinely believe was the start of my then undiagnosed PTSD as opposed to the events of 2011. While ‘terror in the nightfall’ can directly be linked with the PTSD symptom of having chronic nightmares, I also link it just as strongly with general self doubting thoughts. Like I am very much still in a place where despite wanting to, I constantly question whether I should get married and have children or even just make new friends because I don’t feel worthy of it. All it would do is fuck over these other people. Because like end of the day, if the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally for my whole life didn’t, why the hell would anyone else?

Haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime

I will love my family forever. And genuinely, if they hadn’t of left, I would have done anything to make them happy for the rest of my life. And the fact that I do not get the chance to do that haunts me, and while I can never know for sure, I genuinely think it haunts them too.

Leave it all behind and there is happiness

Though it’s been hard, I’ve reached a point where I recognise that if I want to be happy, I need to leave behind the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what’s “meant” to be’ and focus on what is and the people who want to be in my life.

Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?

Like I mentioned, I grew up as a daddy’s girl. Growing up, he was always the ‘fun’ parent. The one who was smiling and laughing all the time. The one who propped me up when I felt down. The one I really thought believed in me. But somewhere along the lines, he took offence to me wanting him to step up and face his choices so that we could fix our family. And as a result, he took joy in, in his own words, turning my sister against my mother and I and pushing me to still see him in order for mum to get spousal payments before the legal settlement out of spite. So I spent years begging him to be different, really thinking it was just a moment of hurt just for him to take pleasure in it.

When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

I’ve hinted at the fact that my mother is still less willing to recover and move past what happened with my family. Consequently, she’s spent the last 5 ½ years being like a bull seeing red at all times. And though I’ve tried everything I could to help her (literal hundreds of letters to politicians and other related parties to step in, reaching out to family, constant meetings with lawyers etc), even going as far as to go to law school hoping to find a solution there. But none of it panned out like we hoped. And because richer people with better connections, more money and “smaller” issues that are unrelated to ours won their cases in court and because I’m fighting for future laws to prevent this happening again rather than the unwinnable battle with my now fully adult and moved on family, suddenly it’s my fault things turned out like they did. She genuinely believes I did not try hard enough and did not care enough about my family, and particularly my sister, when in reality, losing her was, is, and always will be the biggest heartbreak of my life.

I hope she'll be your beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you

I’ve mentioned in a few other posts that both of my parents have, in their own way, raised my sister and I to be rivals rather than sisters. And so when my father chose to not reunite our family, it felt like he was picking her over me. And in my bitterness, I spent a long time making comments about how she was either just as bad as he is and using him financially or she was an idiot who couldn’t see through his bullshit and was fine being nothing more than a trophy so long as she was his favourite.

No, I didn't mean that. Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury

With time and distance away from my father and the refusal to constantly lend myself to my mother’s negativity however, I realised that I really had been aiming my anger at the wrong person. My sister was 16 when she left. A literal child. Each and every adult in my family, my then 20 year old self included, owed her more than what happened. Even if she was a “problem child” who physically and verbally lashed out, we owed her more and we failed her. That’s the part about all this that will haunt me forever. It’s not what happened to me. It’s what happened to her and the ways I let my anger and my parents cloud my vision to the point I know in my heart that things would have been different and I could have done more to save this family had I not. And I know that that anger probably traumatised and provoked a lot of my sister’s actions too. And in all honesty? The anger probably came from a place of projection too because in realising my father would rather stick with his lies than his family, I had to accept that I had been the fool that spent years soaking up praise about my achievements just to find out that’s as far as his ‘favouritism’ of me went.

You haven't met the new me yet

I somewhat joke about it, but I genuinely feel like I became a new person in 2019. Though I’m obviously not like magically healed from the trauma or anything, and while I don’t ever see a way I can have these people in my life again, on the most part I have a new outlook on everything. On top of no longer blaming my sister, I’ve been putting the focus back on myself both in terms of things I could have done differently but also doing my best to not see my family’s decision to lie and take the easy way out as being a reflection on me. Because ultimately, it’s not about me; and it took me a long time to realise that. And there’s a sense of peace in that which is the first of many parts that they won’t know about me. And in many ways, that feels like the first step to rebuilding myself.

There'll be happiness after me

Much like how my life has kept going, so has theirs. My now nearly 22 year old sister has a son who’s about to be a toddler. She has friends I’ve probably never met. My other family members probably have just as fulfilling relationships and memories that I’m not part of. It’s sad, but that’s how life goes.

But there was happiness because of me

Again, just like how my anger doesn’t negate the positive memories I’ve had with these people, realistically it’s doubtful that every second of the 16 – 23 years they knew me was neutral at best for them.

Both of these things, I believe

Logically you cannot have one of the above and not the other. Like despite what my mother thinks, you do not just stop being happy one day just because someone, or in this case many people, left. But that new happiness you have doesn’t make the old happiness any less honest. Also just in general In still in a place where like I really have to believe that my family loved and were happy with me but also happy now or else I’ll have a mental breakdown. So yeah…

There is happiness in our history, across our great divide there is a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light from the dress I wore at midnight

Like I’ve said, I have had a lot of good memories with my family, and with them being night owls and our Christmas day events at my uncle’s tending to run for 10 – 12 hours, the use of the time of midnight feels all the more personal to me. And while like I said, these fond memories aren’t enough to go back to that environment, they’re enough to be a light in the dark that reminds me that I’ve been happy before and illuminate the way across the divide to be happy again.

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

Listen, I will probably blame my father and other family members for the rest of my days over what happened. But with the new me that came in 2019, I’ve also accepted that focusing on that both internally and feeling the need to demonise them to everyone by acting like they were the only ones to make bad calls and that some of those calls didn’t come from a well-intentioned but misinformed place doesn’t make any of the pain go away. Even if they were the devil personified, I cannot change what happened. All I can focus on is myself and my future. And that’s the only way I’m going to heal and find peace.

I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven

Despite everything that happened in my childhood before the split, I am someone who got through it still loving my family and not feeling traumatised by them (or at least not processing it as such) until my adulthood. And while that may seem very bare minimum for a lot of people, it’s also a lot better than a lot of people had it.

And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties

I know a lot of people see this as a sexual line, but I gotta be real, from the first listen, I pictured the moments where I held/hugged my sister through anxiety attacks and lash outs and my father did the same for me. And again, despite that intimacy, we’re now in a place where we’re only polite in public (not that I’ve seen them out but if I did) in order to not cause a scene/get chucked out of wherever we were. Also, I can see this being how my father viewed all the awkward silences (which I spoke about in my It’s Time To Go post) and whatever when I did go to see him after my parents separation, because again, it did feel more like obligation than actually wanting to be there and while I know he somewhat caused that by deliberately keeping the family apart, I still feel bad over it.

No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him, too

Even the worst of families never expect things to blow up in the way my family’s relationships did. There isn’t and probably never will be a manual on that shit. And there’s an inherit loneliness about that because while your other loved ones can stand by your side, ultimately you gotta go through that shit alone because no one really knows what to say. So all the guilt, anger, depression and whatever else you’re feeling is exactly that: yours and yours alone. And that makes it all the rougher.

But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head

After my sister and father left, my mother couldn’t bare to sleep in her and my father’s old room nor my sister and my old room; instead opting to sleep in the lounge room. As a result, I moved into my parents’ old room. Though I have all new furniture, it’s set up in much the same way my parents had it and so it’s hard to not think about how my father slept in the same place I am now for 20 years of my life and the same can be said about my sister being in our childhood room for 16 years of her life. And while I’m somebody who has blocked out the ability to cry over most emotions, I’m still someone who cries very easily when I’m frustrated which as much as I wish I wasn’t, I still am frustrated and have cried more tears than I’d like to admit over how easy it should have been to keep our family together and how they just didn’t want to. And because there is that bitterness with the frustration, it does feel far more toxic than regular tears.

After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve blamed myself a lot for decisions I should have made differently in this process, so I see this more as a line to remind myself that I did all I could. Like I took the ‘nice’ route with the adults in my family only to be rejected, I tried the assertive route and was only met with being cut off, and even if I took the ‘nice’ route with my sister, there is no reconnecting people who do not want to be. They all made their choices and could have come back at any time to hear our side even if they didn’t want to at the beginning, but again, taking the easy route was more important to them than taking the right one and no amount of me giving them what they wanted was going to change that.

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness... and I think she'll give you that

This is another fantasy moment for me. Like I really hope that one day I can forgive my family. Not to be in their life or anything, that ship has sailed. But just for my own peace of mind. I feel like I’m almost there with my sister, but honestly? It feels like I’m never going to get there with the rest of them. Alternatively, I see this line as again, being about forgiving myself for the bad calls I made, and while I’m not quite there either, I definitely think I will get there someday.

#about me #happiness #taylor swift #evermore album #ngl kinda hate this because it took so long to do but i also feel like i somehow didn't get it all out despite it being far too long #also this process has shown me that happiness is by far taylor's most devastating song for me personally

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mysticdragon3md3 · 4 years

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The Meaning of Death: BoJack Horseman vs. The Good Place by Wisecrack

When they started talking about “all books have endings”, I couldn’t help but think of comic books, going on and on and on. Before I switched to manga, I read American comic books, americomi. So it was a shock to me, to get into one of my first favorite manga series and reach its end. No rolling into new writers, artists, or storylines. Just “this is the end of the series”. And yes, it was nice to have a story so cohesive---with repeating motifs, foreshadowings, properly placed milestones of emotional progression, a perfectly unfolded theme(s)---because CLAMP had an ending in mind, even when they gave Rayearth a sequel series. But when that first series ended, I didn’t know what to do. Magic Knight Rayearth had taken up so much real estate in my brain’s fangirling, that I didn’t know what to do with it gone. I felt an empty spot, that was pretty big. And years later, when Ranma 1/2 ended, there was melancholy and loss too. ...Though, Ranma 1/2′s open-ended “ending” to the manga felt reassuring, that Ranma and Akane were still out there, up to their antics. But I think when that manga ended, some small part of me was still a little unsatisfied with the lack of finality. Though compared to the vast majority of fans, it was a very small part. I was actually very happy to feel like Ranma and Akane were still out there. Even if their further adventures were only in our imaginations. But yeah, it’s got nothing on americomi that has gone on for years and years and decades. LOL

I watched Bojack but not the Good Place, so I thought I’d stop watching this video before spoilers. But I don’t think this is even the first video essay on The Good Place, that I forgot to check out of before spoilers. Whatever. I used to be immune to spoilers. My immunity has gone down, but I still feel that a series is as good as the experiences of its moments, vs just knowing what happens in the plot and the end. I want a series/movie/story that feels good to re-watch, because the individual scenes are good experiences, in and of themselves. So what do a few little spoilers---like plot points---matter? lol

And maybe that explains why I never liked the idea that death gives life meaning. It sounds like the moment to moment experiences are negated or invalid. If you’re suffering, it “doesn’t matter” because death will make it end and that will be meaningful in some retroactive symbolic way. If you’re enjoying a moment, then it “doesn’t matter” unless it’s eventually ripped away from you, or you or someone else eventually suffers. Maybe it’s the suicidal depressive in me that doesn’t like the invalidation of the hells or heavens of each daily, “mundane” moment.�� Once my sister and I watched a suicide scene in a movie and she didn’t understand why the character did it because he was happy in his relationship. I just told her cryptically, “It’s an artist thing.” Maybe I didn’t want to actually talk about the fear of good moments turning bad or wanting to seemingly stay in good moments by making life cut off right there. Not that I agreed with the character. (Personally, I think death/suicide is for ending and resting from the never-ending suffering that is existence.) He could have continued on, having many more good moments, he couldn’t have possibly imagined with his significant other. My sister was right. Death doesn’t give anything meaning. It’s like what dream-Herb said in Bojack Horseman, “It’s just your brain trying to make sense of things.” That’s just what human brains do. But the comforting interpretations of people left behind doesn’t make anything better or worse for the person who had the actual experiences. Maybe my problem with the idea “can’t enjoy anything without it eventually ending” (or even “no light without darkness and no good without evil”), is because it probably plays into the same anxious insecurity that I have to deal with in real life. I’d like to be able to feel secure in good things/experiences staying and not being called “invalid” unless it has an end in sight. I’d much prefer for things to evolve. Even if they transition so much that they’re no longer recognizable from the original, then at least each state was gradual and the necessary fit for each corresponding situation. I’d prefer that good moments be appreciated, instead of being told they’re invalid unless they have an ending. And I’d prefer bad moments stop, vs being told it has meaning, like the universe giving you “tough love” so you can learn to become “stronger” or whatever. Sometimes shitty situations/feelings are just shitty. And anyway, there’s no guarantee that everyone reacts the same enough to predict whether “tough love” will yield a “toughened up spirit” or a traumatically scarred mentality; the only certainty is that the dispenser of “tough love” is being callous, discompassionate, and often trying to make excuses to “allow” such abuse. If there’s anything that’s given me the closest understanding of objecting to “the ends justify the means”, it’s my objection to the implication that the day-to-day daily moments don’t matter unless Death. Like Cloud said in FF7AC, “There’s nothing that isn’t important.”

Though I can be a little bit of a nihilist about life never having any inherent meaning, I actually just like the ideas that life can be given meaning and that there’s nothing cheap about that manufactured meaning. (Who told that allegory about a man-made fire to sit by, being just as good as a fire that came out of no where?) Even though I haven’t watched The Good Place, I like a lot of stories/series about immortality, my Personal Myth uses it a lot in Thought Experiments, and I do like muddling over such themes accompanying immortality. I feel, just like a truly enjoyable movie/series/manga, the value is in the experiences of scenes and moments. So what if you already have experienced everything for yourself and know how everything is going to end or know what patterns are going to repeat forever? You don’t know what a moment feels like to someone else. One of the tragic failings of language is that humans will still never be able to communicate their exact experiences to each other, no matter what the means of conveyance. Anything short of a psychic hive mind is still inadequate communication, even that could be considered a singular being who doesn’t know how to communicate to other entities. (Not without some trial and error, like in Eureka 7.) It would be just the same as like individual humans to individual humans. But maybe I just find an unusual amount of value and joy in experiencing things by proxy or from the outside. Maybe it’s because I’m oversensitive and the bluntness of actually having first-person experiences is too intense for me. But I enjoy watching someone else having an experience or even just imagining how they experience something, even if I myself have experienced it a zillion times. Like when I watch an anime I already saw, in a video room with other people at a convention, or listen to reaction videos of a scene or movie I’ve already seen. No matter how jaded I’ve become to the event, watching someone else have an experience and me trying to imagine what it must feel like for them, reminds me of how I felt when I first experienced the same thing. But not just a recall; rather, the feelings actually re-manifest as a full emotional experience in and of themselves. Not just a recollection of events in a plot. Of course, a whole group of immortals jaded with their own experiences could become too dependent and addicted to the need for fresh people to have experiences for them to re-experience things freshly, by proxy... ^.^; There’s just something irrevocably new each time, to dealing with someone who isn’t already experienced with everything. And all because no matter how jaded and “been there, done that” you’ve become, you still have to be kind and empathetic to other people. Like when I was a teacher’s aid for 3 year olds, for 6 years. I wonder if empathy is the reason why watching someone else’s experience, second-hand, by proxy, can be just as intense as a first-hand experience. I wonder if the writers of The Good Place or all the philosophers cited would have had the notion that “once you’re jaded to your own experiences, there’s nothing else to experience”, if they were neuroatypical? Where any of them HSPs? And I don’t think that using other people as proxies for reinvigorating re-experiences is the only use of inexperienced people. I think that genuinely caring for their emotions, not knowing what they’re going to do when you interact with them, having hopes that they’ll experience things well, and adjusting your interactive tactics to help guide them to good experiences, is instinctually emotional each time. Or maybe my brain is just weird to care too much whenever someone is standing in front of me in real life. But I really don’t think it’s just me. As proof, there’s a lot of problems in the world caused by people ONLY caring about people in front of them in real life, so it can’t be that uncommon. So then why get so jaded after depleting your own experiences? Am I saying that mentorship is the “ultimate answer”? lol I dunno. But it would explain why people like raising children, even children not their own, when working as teachers. In my Personal Myth, my main character is spiritually dying inside because she’s immortal and life is a never-ending hopeless trudge, that she no longer has the Strength to improve. So she hopes instead for death, as a lazy way out. But continually, new people she meets, and new experiences with old people she’s met before, keep pointing to the answer being to return to the Fight, the everyday battle to continuously improve. After all, even in the jaded mindset, apparently perfection is still unattainable, because even complacency and satisfaction can spoil into stagnation. So the answer was in the “martial arts anime” genre all along. That must be why it always rung true enough for me to encounter it again, seeing the same tenants repeated in the artist community. “Continual self-improvement”, “compare to your past self, not to others”, “progression is only measured by your own path, not someone else’s years of experience or natural talent”, “fear stagnation and complacency”, “be more concerned with self-improvement vs aggrandizing your ego”, “recognize the True Strengths of Compassion vs Power”, etc. Whether art or in anime martial arts, existence is a never-ending battle, constantly teetering on the edge of falling, then gritting your teeth to climb back up, again and again. There’s always so much to do in existence, how can any humans get bored? Maybe being jaded is less about having nothing new left to experience or do. Maybe it’s more about being too tired to contract and expand to adjust to other people? Or just being too tired to overcome the fear that nothing will be different, no matter what you do or what happens, enough to stop trying? Maybe I’m just falling into human cliches to value Evolution. Or maybe that’s just the necessary value of anything living. “Sometimes life is a bitch, but then you keep living,” to paraphrase what Diane said in Bojack Horseman. Believing that Living and being truly Alive has to be about constantly evolving, both spiritually and mentally, is probably necessary for my survival as a living being. Evolved into instinct, out of necessity.

#rambling #personal myth #immortality #jaded #death #video essay #the good place #bojack horseman #analysis #existential #reactions #americomi #spoilers #endings #processing thoughts #confused with myself

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writingwife-83 · 5 years

Note

Are you ready to get a star for that "Director’s Cut" ask? You better be, cause here it comes - 🌌🌠⭐

Im ready, but are you? 😂 I went with one of my personal faves out of the fics that I wrote based on s4- Night Shift. I was thinking you might be cool with something like that since you said you prefer canonverse. :)

First off, can you even imagine how difficult it would be to keep Sherlock Holmes busy, entertained, and away from an addiction? That is some kind of job! And the fact that Molly was one of the few who were enlisted to do it says a lot. It’s a far cry from the original intent of the character named Molly Hooper who appeared in the first episode. Ok, now lets have a little excerpt...

Molly did her best to go back to focusing on the pages of the book as she heard the washroom door close, the shower turn on, and the curtain slide closed. It became a tiny bit harder to ignore what he was doing when she heard…was that humming? Molly clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud, despite being out of earshot. She couldn’t quite make out the tune, but he was most definitely humming in the shower. She shook her head a smiled. How was it possible that even now, even given the circumstances, she found little ways to fall further in love with him?

This sidenote moment felt important to me. Because as Molly says in TFP, it’s always been true. Yeah she’s seen him at his absolute, rock bottom worst. But she really and truly loves him anyway. So even in a moment like this, no doubt he’d still make her heart beat a little faster. Ok, moving on...

"Although," Molly added, feeling the need to clarify a bit even as she cringed in embarrassment at the path her words took. “Sometimes getting the same in return isn’t necessarily the most important thing. When you love someone, I mean.”

"So..." he began slowly, eyes narrowing. “If you love a person, that in itself can be fulfilling?”

She inhaled slowly and deeply while smiling. “Right. Sometimes…in some ways…that’s enough.”

Can we talk about the fact that I wrote this discussion of love and whether or not it’s reciprocated between TLD and TFP, and OMG if ever I had known what was really coming the very next week...lord have mercy lol. But here’s where the feels really amp up...

“Do you know what I thought that day?” Molly asked, going on while twisting one of the buttons on her cardigan. “When Mrs. Hudson called and told me what had happened? She told me everything and I- I though-“ She stopped, feeling her breath catch again, having to whisper her next words. “Thank God he’s alive.”

And soon after, here’s his reply...

He turned and his eyes reached out to her again. “Yes, but don’t you see? Nobody else has said it. They’ve all admitted it can’t be changed, I’ve been helped and supported, and even forgiven and assured I’m not at fault. But I hadn’t heard anything like your words till now…thank God he’s alive,” he said, repeating her wording with a very slight tremor in his voice.

Look, I know there’s only so much time in an episode, and there’s only so much they can focus on, etc. But I really feel like there needed to be more of this. Yes, someone died. But someone else was able to keep living. Sherlock’s life was saved, regardless of how everyone feels about how it happened. I would have loved to see at least one of the people who love him on that show to just express these sentiments, that they’re grateful he’s still alive and with them. Because saying that doesn’t negate the grief over Mary’s death.

Overall I just really enjoyed writing this fic. It felt good to address some of the more raw and uncomfortable emotions that would be reality in these situations. Sherlock’s survivor’s guilt of course, Molly’s conflicting pain for her friend’s loss and her relief to still have the man she loves, and then the fact that they both end up actually making each other feel better just by exchanging some of these feelings.

Thanks for the “director’s cut” ⭐️ ask, it was fun! 😉

#sherlolly #directors cut ask #are you sorry you asked lol?#wifey answers things #and gets long winded

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forthisone · 5 years

Text

Nick & June tag game

I’m late to the party but I found this and I wanted to answer these questions, so here we are. Sorry, I copied and pasted the questions a while ago and now I can’t remember who to credit. My answers are behind the Read more.

1. What’s your favorite Nick x June scene?

2. At what point while watching the show did you realize you were invested in their relationship?

3. If you hadn’t already read the book and knew they would be a thing. When did you say “Oh yeah, something is going to happen with these two?” Or were you kinda caught of guard?

4. What do you think their relationship means to them? For June and Nick as individuals?

5. What was your reaction when it was revealed June was pregnant with Nick’s baby?

6. What do you think their relationship brings to the show overall? And what are some of the things you love most about their relationship?

7. The nursery scene. Discuss.

8. Favorite June moment on the show.

9. Favorite Nick moment on the show.

10. What scene of theirs do you feel is a bit underrated?

Bonus: Is June cheating on Luke?

1. What’s your favorite Nick x June scene?

So hard to pick. But I think it’s when June tells Nick she is pregnant. His reaction is almost so unexpected (especially in this show) and you see a switch flip in his mind. He goes from pushing her away and being guarded, to fully embracing his feelings for her and the baby in a split second. The look on his face when he says “What?” breaks me and then he sinks down to her and nestles into her. You can see him thinking like “Fuck, I’m so sorry for pushing you away. But I’m here now.” It is just so refreshing to see some affection in this world of horror. He gives June back some hope and some fight too in that scene as I think she is pretty broken mentally with the thought of facing a pregnancy alone. And like someone I reblogged said in a post recently… he sees Serena watching them, and he doesn’t even flinch. YES, NICK.

2. At what point while watching the show did you realize you were invested in their relationship?

I watched Seasons 1 & 2 in a matter of days so it is all a bit of a blur. But I remember a scene that stood out to me when I first watched it was the kiss in 2.07 at the hospital. When Nick says he won’t let anything happen to June and she replies “What about you?” and Nick’s just left speechless and looks overcome and then kisses her, I was gone. I loved it because, to me, it’s him finally getting some real acknowledgement from her that she really does care about him and he’s, like, overcome by that feeling because he hasn’t felt like he means something to anyone in so long. There’s a glimmer of it in the previous episode where she says “I think about [the three of us] too” and “I can’t lose you, do you hear me?” but she’s still quite cold with him, after he tells her he loves her. But in the “What about you?” moment she finally gives in to what she’s feeling and he feels it and it really got me emotionally.

The other moment was probably the scene in 1.10 which I spoke about in my previous answer.

3. If you hadn’t already read the book and knew they would be a thing. When did you say “Oh yeah, something is going to happen with these two?” Or were you kinda caught of guard?

I hadn’t read the book but I have now! Again, it was all a blur when I binge-watched so I can’t totally remember. For some reason, I think I didn’t fully realise how close they get in their scene where he brings her the ice. I don’t think I watched that scene properly; if I had, I think it would have been then. I think I kind of felt something from their very first episode though, in the sense of their first scene (about tuna) being played as if Nick was filling the “love interest”/ eye-candy role (he’s a lot more than that of course but that’s what I clocked at the start). And them staring at each other in the garden, him watching from the stairs, I was definitely intrigued.

And yeah, the sex scene was fiiiiire. So that too. But I guess it was pretty obvious by that point.

4. What do you think their relationship means to them? For June and Nick as individuals?

For Nick, I think it gives him a glimmer of hope, which he hasn’t felt in a long time. He finally has a purpose. He’s been alone for so long and finally he has something in his life that means something to him again.

For June, Nick gives her a much-needed escape from this hell that she is in. He gives her a safe haven. He looks out for her. He helps her to survive. We’ve seen in Season 3 how she isn’t coping without love to ground her in this awful place.

5. What was your reaction when it was revealed June was pregnant with Nick’s baby?

Well, I talked about the actual scene above. So I’ll talk about some other stuff around this...

At first, I was not totally sure why it was just assumed it was Nick’s and any thought of it being Waterford’s was dismissed. I understand why Serena and June think that and want to believe it, but I didn’t understand the 100% confidence as it’s never actually confirmed; it’s not like they do a DNA test. Obviously, as a Nick/June shipper I fully accept that he is Holly’s father and I don’t doubt it, but I just felt like that was handled a bit oddly.

I do also wish we knew how much time passed between Episode 5 (when they started having sex) and Episode 10 (when the pregnancy is revealed). I’d like to know when the baby was actually conceived because I’m weird about knowing details and overly invested. I’ve thought too much about this, but I’m assuming too much time passes for it all to be within one month, personally I think it’s more likely conceived around Episode 8 before Nick breaks it off. I wonder what Serena actually thought about this, because if it’s impossible it was conceived in Episode 5 when she was in the apartment with them (because too much time has passed), then she must realise that they’ve been sleeping together without her knowledge. If so I assume the reason she doesn’t say anything (ie. have Nick killed) is because she doesn’t want the parentage of the baby to be questioned; she wants it to be seen to be Waterford’s and “rightfully hers” in the eyes of Gilead. Or whatever bullshit. Unless Serena arranged for them to sleep together for more than just that first time. But my shipper brain doesn’t like to contemplate that and I think June confirms this when she says in a V.O. “So I’ve gone back to Nick, time after time, on my own.”

6. What do you think their relationship brings to the show overall? And what are some of the things you love most about their relationship?

God, what don’t I love about their relationship?

It’s pretty obvious to me that what their relationship brings to the show is a consensual, loving relationship in a world built around the systematic abuse of women. It’s light in the darkness. Love as an act of defiance. Comfort.

I love how their relationship started off as a flirtation, which then grew into sex and June taking back her sexuality, then they both realise how hard they are falling for each other, then there is a BABY, and what started off as this flirtation is just such a powerful force now (or, was, before he disappeared from Season 3). I love how Nick has gone from this pawn in Gilead with a pretty empty existence to someone who loves this woman so much he will literally do anything for her, even if it’s negating his own self-preservation, as Max said. It shows the power of love.

And another thing that sets them apart for me is their frankly ridiculous chemistry and how hot their kissing and/or love scenes are. Consent, tick. Female empowerment, tick. Fucking hot, tick.

7. The nursery scene. Discuss.

It was a beautiful, beautiful, touching scene. And the subtitles, with Nick whispering “Hey, sweetie” and “You’re really cute” were adorable to me.

I love it but it also scares me that it might be the only truly happy moment they ever get. I am worried the writers gave us that because they knew they were just going to rip it all away somewhere down the line.

As with almost all their scenes, it’s not June telling him she loves him that gets me but Nick’s reaction to it. And also the way he smiles and looks at his new daughter. Honestly, Max is amazing in this show and just needs so much more recognition than he gets.

8. Favorite June moment on the show.

Wow, that’s hard. I think it might be in 1.06 when she has the tremendous courage to tell the Mexican ambassador the truth about her reality in Gilead. And she says “Please, don’t be sorry. Do something.” She was awesome in that moment.

9. Favorite Nick moment on the show.

This is even harder because I literally adore him. Apart from the scenes I’ve already mentioned....

2.09 - his selflessness in this episode is just beyond words, both in the scene with Luke and the scene with June. The way he can’t even bear to look at her as he tells her that Luke loves her and always will and he turns away because his heart is literally breaking, but he still tells her anyway because he’s a good fucking man. God. Max kills it in this scene (they both do, to be fair).

2.12 - the scene with him and Eden in the locker room is heart-breaking and it shows that he’s not only a good person when it comes to June, which I think is important. His relationship with Eden is such a difficult one. As horrific a situation as he was in, as much as he was forced into the marriage, she was innocent and he could have been a lot kinder to her in their conversations in the apartment, but I think the fact that he acknowledges this and asks for her forgiveness, means a lot to her (especially in this patriarchal system) and she forgives him, and she is able to get some closure and peace from that admission before she dies. I think it’s an important scene for Nick’s character and very well acted by both Max and Sydney, so it deserves a mention for me.

10. What scene of theirs do you feel is a bit underrated?

All of their scenes are so amazing, I’m not sure if any is underrated by their fans.

Their scene in 2.03 at the Globe is maybe one. Nicks telling her she may be leaving soon, and it’s better for everyone if she goes. He’s essentially trying to convince her that it’s ok for to leave, even without Hannah, but also without him. Even though it means they’ll probably never see each other again. He does it because he wants her safe. Even though he will lose her.

And the way she hugs him at the end... she knows this may be goodbye. She closes her eyes and leans into him.

Also June’s V.O. at the beginning of 1.08 because it’s showing how much Nick is starting to mean to her and occupy the same mental space as Luke does. “I want to know him, memorise him, so I can live on the image later. I should have done that with Luke, because he’s fading…”

And maybe the cassette scene in 3.05. I don’t think it’s underrated by Nick/June fans, because we’ve clung to all we can this season, but maybe by other fans who don’t appreciate the significance in showing that June loves Nick enough to tell Luke about him, even though it may mean the end of her relationship with Luke. Leading me on to the last question...

Bonus: Technically speaking, June’s relationship with Nick can be classified as an affair because she’s married to another man. Do you see their relationship as June cheating given the unique situation they are in? Or do you feel because of the circumstance they are in, it’s a grey area and as such it’s unfair to classify it as straightforward as June is cheating?

I have rewritten this answer a couple of times. It’s a difficult question. If I put myself in Luke’s shoes? If I found out that my husband, even though he knew I was alive, was still sleeping with and had fallen in love with another woman? And that finding out I was alive hadn’t stopped him doing it? Then, yeah, I’d feel like he was being unfaithful. If I’m honest. I may not blame him, but it would still hurt.

But, the key for me with them is this: to me, cheating implies you are lying to the other person. Crucially, because of the situation June is in, separated from him for years, she doesn’t have the opportunity to tell him the truth. And, actually, when she does have that opportunity (the cassette tape), she does tell him. Straight away. Which is huge. So she’s not lied to him. And that for me means this can’t be classed as cheating. She didn’t choose to be separated from Luke. She was lonely for years, thought he was dead for years, and then she grabbed a chance at love and she fell in love with someone who loves her so much he’d die for her. It’s not like it’s just a fling. Is she just meant to be alone in this hell indefinitely?

#nick x june #nick and june #nick blaine #tag game #june x nick #june and nick #i will go down with this ship

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star-spangled-eyes · 5 years

Text

The Royal Romance Deleted Scenes, Alternate Endings & Additions...Book 2, Ch. 16

These “deleted scenes”, alternate endings and additions are from The Royal Romance – a story written and owned by Pixelberry Studios. All main story character names and fictional places are owned and created by Pixelberry Studios. Some content belongs to Pixelberry, whereas the rest is created and written by this author.

Master List of Chapters

Book/Chapter: The Royal Romance, Book 2: Chapter 16 - A Monumental Night (Alternate Ending) “It’s Always Been You”

Content Type: Alternate Ending

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Bragnae Bennett -- *pronounced Brawn-yah)

A/N: I fell in love with this series immediately, and I always envisioned more depth and experiences with the characters to make it more realistic. I had a lot of fun writing these “moments” that we didn’t get to see in the books, especially when giving Drake and the MC a lot more time together to show just how much they care about each other. I do apologize that they are scattered across the series, but I am working to fill in the moments in each chapter. I hope you enjoy what I’ve decided to add to this already amazing series, and stay tuned for more posts!

***These chapters set the foundation for my fanfic series The Royal Couple.

Warnings for deleted scenes, alternate endings and additions: Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex, violence

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex, violence

Word Count for this chapter: 8319

Setting for this chapter: Standing at the base of the Statue of Liberty in New York, the King of Cordonia (Gabriel) has just dropped to one knee with a ring in his hand staring up at the woman he loves, about to ask a very important question.

Bragnae’s heart pounded in her chest as her breathing started to increase. She felt butterflies in her stomach fluttering about in nervous and terrifying ways. Tears started to well in her eyes as she looked at Gabriel holding out a stunning diamond ring.

“Bragnae, will you marry me?” The King asked with love and hope in his eyes.

Bragnae’s breathing became ragged as she mustered up the courage to give her answer to this wonderful man. Gabriel had offered so much to her in the short time that they knew each other. He was the King of Cordonia, a place she felt she could call home. He was strong, charismatic and undeniably gorgeous but above all, he was gentle and kind. Gabriel opened his heart to her ever since the first night they met. She knew him well and was happy to have such an honorable and amazing person as her friend. Well, more than a friend. We have kissed and shared other intimate moments after all.

Bragnae took a deep breath bracing herself for the moment she dreaded for so long.

“Oh Gabriel… I can’t marry you. I’m in love with someone else,” she said finally.

“…What?” Gabriel asked as the smile on his face quickly faded. He stood immediately taking a reflexive step back.

“I came to Cordonia for you, Gabriel, but I found someone else along the way. I’m…I’m so sorry that I waited until now to tell you.” Bragnae felt a burning lump in her throat as she tried to choke back the tears that she knew was undoubtedly going to fall.

Gabriel stood there staring at the ground with a stunned expression on his face as his eyes darted back and forth in confusion trying to comprehend what he just heard. Finally, his eyes found hers again.

“Would you do me the courtesy of telling me who you’re in love with?” Gabriel asked, still unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

Bragnae hesitated for a moment knowing the next thing she said would surely rock him to his core. She couldn’t bear to hurt Gabriel. Even though she knew she wasn’t in love with him she still loved him, and hated the idea of breaking his heart. Oh sweet Gabriel, I’m so sorry.

“I’m in love with Drake.”

“…Drake?” Just when she thought he couldn’t look more hurt, Gabriel managed to find a way to do it.

Oh God, this is awful.

“I know it’s probably a lot to take in…him being your best friend and all,” Bragnae said cautiously.

Gabriel took a deep, cavernous breath as he mulled over the words she just said. His shoulders dropped while he brought a hand to his mouth. He looked utterly distraught. Bragnae could barely look at him as she felt her own heart breaking.

How could I do this to him? How could I let it go this far to the point of him getting down on one knee before I told him how I truly felt? I am a terrible person. Just look at him. This is my fault! I suck as a person. Truly.

“Exactly, he’s my best friend,” Gabriel’s tone was filled with restrained anger as he clenched his fists. He momentarily turned away, presumably to express his true feelings without a direct audience. “I…I won’t lie and say that this is easy for me to hear, but…” Gabriel straightened his postured and regained his composure like the steadfast king that he was. “How can I be anything but happy for him? And for you.”

Bragnae’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Is that really how you feel, Gabriel?”

“It’s…part of how I feel. But it’s the only part that matters right now. How can I be unhappy about my best friend finding love? And with a truly, astonishingly amazing woman.”

Gabriel’s eyes were filled with a mix of emotions, which mesmerized her. She wanted him to be happy for her and Drake, but she knew he was putting up a strong front to spare himself. She desperately wanted this moment to be over, so she could stop hurting him. She wanted to go find Drake and begin the happy part of her night, but still she found herself not wanting to leave Gabriel. After all this time getting to know one another, she couldn’t imagine her life without Gabriel in it. She wondered how long it would be before they could have a normal friendship – one that wasn’t consumed with pain, guilt and faded love. Gabriel was someone she could trust with her life and tell just about anything to. They often made each other laugh and had genuine fun together. She didn’t want this to end.

How could I expect him to look at me in any other way? Will it hurt too much for him to continue to see me? To be around me? To be around Drake and me? Ugh. I hate this.

“Thank you for understanding, Gabriel. I don’t know what will happen between me and Drake, but… I owe it to myself to find out.”

“Does that mean you intend to stay in Cordonia?” A glimpse of hope returned to his eyes as he waited for Bragnae to respond.

“If I can… that is if you’ll allow me to stay. I’ve come to feel as if Cordonia is my home now…” Bragnae replied, almost pleading. The guilt of turning him down still consumed her.

“Bragnae, I’m not sure what the future holds… for either of us. But if you want yours to be in Cordonia, I promise it will be. Had you accepted my proposal, I would have given you an unclaimed duchy as part of becoming a royal,” Gabriel continued. “However, no matter what our relationship is, I firmly believe that your presence and influence at court is good for Cordonia. I can still make arrangements.”

Bragnae noticed that same look of hope and love return to his eyes and she briefly wondered what she did to merit this kind of generosity.

“You would do that for me? I don’t deserve such a high honor, Gabriel.”

He took a step toward her as he picked up her hand. “Bragnae, declining my marriage proposal does not negate all of the wonderful things that you’ve done for my country. And for me. Even if you don’t return my affections, I would never hold that against you. I would be a fool to forget how much you’ve helped me and our friends, as well as all the times you’ve spread your positive and cheerful energy around Cordonia. It’s not just my heart that you’ve captured...” Gabriel looked away for a moment. “You’ve won over the rest of the citizens as well. So, believe me when I say how much good I think you’d bring to Cordonia by being a Duchess. Please tell me you’ll accept.”

“Gabriel, are you sure about this?”

“If this is what it takes to keep you in my life, consider it done.” Gabriel spoke with confidence, but his eyes revealed a vulnerable hope.

Bragnae wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. Was he offering this to her in hopes that she’ll change her mind about being with him? Being a Duchess meant that she’d be at the palace regularly, and would have to work with him often in the name of Cordonia. She worried about how hard it would be for that the guilt and pain that they shared to go away, especially if they were to see each other so often. Still, the thought of becoming nobility excited her.

Do I really deserve this, though? I just broke the man’s heart. But he did say that he was planning to offer this to me anyway, so he must see more in me than the love he had. Is it stupid to say yes? I guess I’ll find out…

“I would be honored to accept this most generous offer. Thank you for your confidence in me, Gabriel. I’m not sure if I deserve it completely, but I hope I won’t let you down.”

“As if you could…” Gabriel said looking intensely into her eyes. He then took a step back as they both realized the irony in what he just said. For just a moment, his expression turned somber, but he a smile quickly adorned his face. “We’ll make the announcement upon our return, at the Homecoming Ball.”

“Wow… I can’t believe I’m going to be a Duchess,” Bragnae returned his smile.

“I did have one final stop in mind for tonight’s adventure if you’re interested. I arranged for a private excursion to the top of the Statue of Liberty. I would still love for you to join me… I want to show my gratitude to you for showing me that I can choose my future for myself. So, what do you say?”

There’s that look again… hope, love, regret… Well, I can’t say no. He went through all this trouble.

“Of course! How can I say no to that?”

Gabriel offered his arm and led her to the entrance to the stairs leading to Lady Liberty herself. They climbed their way to the top leaving them a little breathless as they walked toward a window overlooking the New York City skyline.

“What a view!” Gabriel marveled.

“It certainly is. One that is rivaled by none. I love this city, and everything about it,” Bragnae said as she recalled good memories of growing up in the city that never sleeps.

“Have you ever been to the top of the Statue of Liberty before, Bragnae?”

“Yeah, once or twice. It’s something every New Yorker…well everyone… should do at least one time in their lives. This place is a symbol of freedom and hope to everyone around the world showing them what we stand for as a country, as well as what we can offer those coming here. It’s just incredible.”

Bragnae couldn’t help becoming misty-eyed thinking about the country that she was born into, and how proud she was to call herself an American. The thought of leaving this great country behind was hard, but the thought of not being with the one she loved seemed more difficult.

“Freedom and hope is exactly what I saw too when you first brought me here. And fortunately for me, I feel that I’ve kept those two traits at the forefront of my mind since then. Meeting you was no coincidence. You’ve taught me so much about myself, and who I want to be, rather than who I have to be. I owe so much of that to you, Bragnae.”

Gabriel stood before her gazing into her eyes, leaning into her slightly. “I’m so grateful to have you in my life, so much so that I can’t imagine you not being in it. I’m so glad you accepted my offer to become a Duchess. I have no doubts that you will be amazing at it.”

Bragnae smiled at him finding herself lost in his eyes. He was such a caring and thoughtful person, and she’d be lying to herself if she said there wasn’t some kind of spark between them when they kissed before during the Social Season. It was a very confusing year for her heart. Meeting both Drake and Gabriel on the same night, and liking them both right away…having alone time with both of them and getting to know them individually only made her appreciate them more. When Gabriel kissed her, he did so with affection and excitement. It was thrilling, but perhaps that was because their kisses happened in stolen moments while they were dodging the press and the other ladies vying for his attention.

But when Drake kissed her the world stopped. She felt passion, heat, and forbidden love; she was comfortable, she felt safe and being in his arms felt like home. She could never get enough of the brief moments their lips shared, and for this, Bragnae knew the difference between the two men. She’s known it all along. Gabriel was just a stepping stone leading her to the man of her dreams, the love of her life. Drake.

“Bragnae…” Gabriel said softly bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“You know, the arrangement Madeleine suggested the night before my coronation is actually quite common in Cordonia.”

Oh no…I’m leading him on again.

“What are you saying, Gabriel?”

“I’m saying that many people have affairs with the knowledge of their spouse. If that was something that you were ever interested in, or even now, well… I would be too,” Gabriel looked at her with intense desire.

Bragnae swallowed hard while she looked away from his longing stare.

WHOA! He just asked me to sleep with him! I’ve got to get out of here now before I hurt him more.

“I think I should get going,” she said firmly.

Gabriel straightened himself and took a step back from her. “I’m sorry, Bragnae. I shouldn’t have said that. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“Please don’t apologize, but I really should go.”

“At least allow me to walk you back to the hotel?” Gabriel asked.

“Sure, that’d be great. Thank you.”

As the two departed in the lobby of their hotel, Bragnae headed for the elevators. Once she arrived on her floor, she grabbed her room key and unlocked her door. She flipped on the light, and saw a folded up piece of paper lying on the floor.

What’s this? That wasn’t here before.

She picked up the paper and began to read:

Bennett,

Meet me on the hotel balcony tonight. We need to talk.

-Drake

Bragnae smiled and pulled the letter to her heart. This is it Bragnae. Go tell Drake that you’ve made your decision. Let’s hope he still wants me too. She carefully placed the note on her bedside table, grabbed her purse and headed out the door. Once she reached the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor, she was once again consumed with fluttering butterflies in her stomach. But this time, the butterflies danced around in a happy, harmonious beat, still nervous, but happy and full of hope and excitement. She smiled to herself. I can’t wait to tell him, to kiss him… to make him finally understand that I was his all along.

A few moments later, she emerged onto the balcony only to find it empty. Bragnae looked around, but saw that she was the only one out there.

Maybe he was here and then left when I didn’t show. Maybe he doesn’t want to be with me after all. NO! Stop thinking like that. I know how he feels about me – I’ve seen it. The way he looks at me, kisses me… the way he touches me… there’s no way he bailed on this conversation. Stop being so negative! But I do wonder what he wants to say. Why did he all of a sudden call this meeting? Where is he? Ugh… I wish there was a time stamp on that note, so I knew when he wrote it!

Bragnae walked over to the railing overlooking the busy streets below. Endless structures of steel and glass surrounded her with lights twinkling in every direction. This truly was the city that never sleeps. She smiled to herself taking in the place she once called home. She pulled out her phone to check the time. Hmmm…10:45p.m. Maybe he’s asleep. Should I go to his room and wake him up? No. Just stay here. He said to meet him on the balcony, so just wait here a little longer. If it gets to be 11:00p.m. or after, then maybe give him a call. Bragnae attempted to calm herself by taking a few deep breaths to shun the nervousness away.

Several minutes go by and still no Drake. Bragnae felt a rush of sadness wash over her. Well, maybe I should go back to my room. He’s probably asleep or he decided he didn’t want to talk to me after all.

“Hey, Bennett.”

Bragnae closed her eyes in relief. Oh thank God. She turned around to see Drake standing in front of her with an unreadable expression. Damn it, I never can tell what he’s thinking!

Drake took a few steps forward keeping his eyes locked on her. “We need to talk…about us.”

“Yeah, we do,” she began. “Drake, Gabriel proposed to me tonight.”

“Oh,” Drake gasped.

Bragnae watched Drake as his face fell. She could see the hurt in his eyes, though he quickly tried to hide it.

“Well, I’m hap--”

“I said no,” she said, interrupting him.

“…What?” Drake looked genuinely surprised.

Bragnae took a step toward him. “Drake, you’re the only one I’ve ever cared about.”

“Bennett… do you really mean that? Gabriel is a king. I can’t offer you half of what he can.”

He deserves so much happiness. I need to make him understand that it’s him and only him.

“I didn’t come here looking for a kingdom, Drake. I want to be with you. And I think you invited me out here tonight because you want that too,” Bragnae said with conviction.

Drake stared at her, falling silent for a moment as the disbelief on his face slowly faded into resolve.

“I do. I have for a long time, Bennett. I guess I’ve been afraid of what that would mean. For you, for Gabriel… and for me. But if you…”

“Drake. I’m sure about this,” she stated as a smile blossomed on her face.

He nodded as he ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair. They both stepped closer to each other never breaking eye contact.

Drake smiled, “Is this the part where you tell me to stop talking and kiss you? Because I really want to kiss you.”

“So do I, but aren’t you worried someone will see us?” Bragnae asked, gesturing at the ample buildings and nightlife surrounding them.

Drake looked around briefly before he spoke with more confidence than ever before. “Let ‘em look. I’m tired of being careful.”

With that, he pulled Bragnae toward him, his lips catching hers in a searing kiss as his arms wrapped comfortingly around Bragnae’s waist.

OH. MY. GOD! I’m so happy!!! He wants me too! God, he’s such a great kisser…

When he pulled away, she noticed a look of gentle, astonished joy on his face.

“I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you, Bennett. But I’ll never stop trying to be worthy of it.”

Drake placed a sweet, tender kiss on her lips.

“So, you won’t resent me for being a duchess?” I can’t wait to see his reaction to this.

“I’d never re--… Wait, a what?”

Bragnae chuckled. “It’s been an eventful night. Let me fill you in.”

She proceeded to tell him what transpired between her and Gabriel earlier in the evening.

“I still can’t believe it, Bennett. I feel bad for Gabriel…but not too bad, obviously,” he said with a chuckle. “You look amazing, by the way.”

Drake’s gaze traveled down her floor-length, gray dress along with a slow and deliberate finger trailing in its wake. Bragnae trembled at his touch, but ached for more. She grabbed the back of his neck pulling him into a deep and passionate kiss. She pressed her body against his as he let out a low moan. Drake grabbed her hips pulling her tightly to him bunching up the fabric of her dress in his hands. The kisses only grew in intensity as their breathing increased.

This is amazing… I want him so badly. Oooh… WAIT. We’re still outside.

Bragnae gathered up all of the strength she could to tear herself away from Drake’s luscious lips. “Why don’t we go down to my room, and finish this conversation?”

Drake smiled at her kissing her one more time. “Lead the way.”

The two walked back inside together hand in hand where they waited for the elevator. Their eyes locked on one another still a little breathless – partly from the passionate kiss they just shared, and partly due to the anticipation of getting somewhere private. There was so much desire and intensity in their eyes. Bragnae barely noticed when the elevator doors opened until Drake tugged on her hand to lead her inside.

As the doors shut and the button to Bragnae’s floor was pushed, Drake leaned into Bragnae with a smirk on his face. “I’m really trying hard not to kiss you right now because I’m not going to be able to stop if I do.”

“It’s proving to be quite the challenge, isn’t it?” Bragnae said flirtatiously.

“Oh God, yes,” Drake said in a hoarse whisper leaning even closer to her.

For the excruciatingly long sixty seconds that it took the elevator to arrive at Bragnae’s floor, the world had stopped. She was now backed into the corner of the elevator with Drake pressed up against her. Their lips only inches apart. His hands lightly touched her body, which made him even more irresistible. They continued to stare into each other’s eyes saying nothing, but building the anticipation of finally being able to be with each other in that way. It wasn’t awkward, rather it was hot. It was an unspoken agreement between them to hold off on any further kissing until they were back in her room, and it was driving them crazy.

Ohmygod, I’m going to die if he doesn’t kiss me soon. This is the slowest elevator in the world.

To their relief, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Drake pulled her out of the elevator swiftly while he wrapped an arm around her waist. The two walked briskly down the hall to her door as Bragnae quickly searched her purse to get the room key out. Alas, she found the key and turned to the door to get it unlocked. Drake stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist kissing the back of her neck. Bragnae, of course, fumbled the key card failing to get it in its slot to unlock the door. She closed her eyes and braced her left hand on the door as she relished his lips and hot breath touching her skin.

“Am I distracting you, Bragnae?” Drake whispered in her ear.

Bragnae swung around to face Drake, and in an instant pulled him to her kissing him fiercely. He followed her lead pushing her hard into the door never breaking the kiss. Their hands exploring the other’s body intensely as if they couldn’t get enough. The high slit in Bragnae’s dress made it easy for her to lift her leg and curl it around Drake’s body to bring him even closer. She felt his hard desire leaning against her, which sent a tingling sensation down her spine. Drake dipped his head to kiss her neck stopping to give little, soft bites along the way. The world was melting away and they haven’t even made it inside the room yet.

Just then they heard the elevator chime causing them to pull apart abruptly. Bragnae glanced down the hallway toward the sound, and immediately turned to unlock the door. She and Drake rushed into the room, and shut the door as they leaned against it panting and laughing.

“That was close!” Drake said as he laughed.

“Yes, but so worth it,” Bragnae replied, smiling at him. “How about a drink?” She walked over to the well-stocked mini-bar in her room and went straight for two tiny bottles of Jack Daniels and a couple of glasses. She turned back to Drake who was still leaning against the door watching her.

“How about it, stud? Want to join me over here for some whiskey?” A playful smile danced on her lips.

“You know me so well,” Drake admired as he walked over to the couch where she sat. “Not that I need anything else to make this moment better, but I’ll never turn down whiskey. Especially if it’s you who’s offering it to me.”

Bragnae unscrewed the bottles and poured each of them a glass. She handed one to Drake and the other she hoisted up.

“A toast. Here’s to finally being able to be together in every way.”

“And… to the most beautiful woman in the world who chose me tonight,” Drake added.

They clinked their glasses and took a drink.

“…Which I still can’t believe,” Drake said clearing his throat as he leaned back on the couch.

“Drake, when are you going to see just how amazing you are? You look at this situation like you’re always second best. I mean, I can imagine why you’d feel like that growing up in Gabriel’s shadow, but I just wish you could see it from my perspective.”

“And what would that be?”

I need his undivided attention for this.

Bragnae took their empty glasses and set them on the coffee table. She stood up gently lifting her dress, and climbed on Drake’s lap straddling him.

“Oh… well you’ve certainly got my attention,” he joked.

“Good. So, listen up,” she began, as she laid her hands comfortably on his shoulders. “The night of Gabriel’s bachelor party here in New York, I noticed you first. And before you say, ‘it’s because Gabriel wasn’t in the bar yet’, let me tell you that I saw you and how sexy you were – those beautiful brown eyes and those very toned arms. The moment I laid eyes on you, I thanked God that Daniel had a date that night, and that he asked me to take his table for him. And when Gabriel asked me to tag along with you guys after you left, I agreed hoping to spend some more time with you,” Bragnae continued.

“When Maxwell asked me to come to Cordonia to compete for Gabriel’s hand, well… I said ‘yes’ looking for an adventure, but also for love. I felt something that night. It wasn’t a lot of something because you acted like you wanted nothing to do with me, but it was there. And I needed to find out more. When I told you on the plane that you were more my type than Gabriel, I meant it. And every little instance that we shared together over the course of the Social Season and this engagement tour just made me realize how incredible you are, and how much I just wanted to be with you. There were many occasions when Gabriel asked me to join him for a private moment away, and I simply declined. I was there for you.”

Drake looked at her contemplatively. “But you agreed to compete with the ladies to win his hand. Come on, Bragnae. I know you’re smart, so I know you knew what was at the end of that game. Plus, you knew how much Gabriel liked you.”

Bragnae dropped her gaze briefly. “I cannot begin to describe how awful I feel for leading Gabriel on by being a part of the Social Season. At times, it didn’t feel like that, though. You kept pushing me away, and Gabriel kept pulling me in with his kindness and adoration. Needless to say, my heart was quite confused. I knew in the depths of my soul there was something about you. But with most good things in life, you were worth the wait.”

“And I was such an idiot for pushing you away,” Drake said softly looking up at her.

“No, you were just being a good friend. You are so selfless – you put your own happiness second to those you care about most. You’re so loyal and protective and kind and smart, and oh boy, can you make me laugh! These are just some of the reasons why I chose you. But you have to see, Drake; it was you all along. Please tell me you believe me.” Bragnae’s hands were cupped on each side of his face.

“You’re pretty convincing, Bennett. Of course, I believe you. I trust you with my life. I’m just so glad you didn’t give up on me,” Drake said, as he grabbed one of Bragnae’s hands and kissed it.

“There’s one other thing I need to tell you…” Bragnae began.

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this because I don’t want to cause any further rift between you and Gabriel. But I feel like I need to tell you because I want to be completely open and honest in this relationship.”

“Bennett, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Tonight, after Gabriel proposed, and after I declined and told him I would rather be with you, he propositioned me.”

“What? What did he say?”

“He said that people in Cordonia often have affairs with the knowledge of their spouse, and that if I was ever interested in that in the future or now, he would be willing to do that.”

Drake looked down as his eyes darted back and forth. “And this was after you told him you wanted to be with me?”

Bragnae nodded, “Yes.”

Drake instinctively tightened his grip around her out of anger. “How could he do that to me? After everything I did to make sure he was happy. Hell, I was unhappy and tortured myself just to make sure he could have the future that he wanted with the girl that he loved.”

“I think he was just trying one last ditch effort to keep me close to him. I did just break the guy’s heart while he was on one knee proposing to me. I’m sure I bruised his ego quite a bit.”

“I just… I never thought I was worthy of anything Gabriel did for me or even having the chance to be with you for that matter, but everything I did since the day we met was because I loved you, and I only wanted you and Gabriel to be happy. What the hell did I do that for if he was just going to turn around and stab me in the back when he didn’t get his way?”

Bragnae drew back slightly in surprise. “Drake…what did you just say?”

This question brought Drake out of his raging moment, and back to the woman sitting on his lap. He hesitated before working up the courage to say it again. The right way.

He looked back up at her staring deep into her eyes. “I love you, Bragnae. I always have. And I always will.”

Bragnae drew in a sharp breath as she felt tears well in her eyes. “I love you too, Drake. With all my heart and soul.”

Drake reached up to cup her cheek with his hand speaking only with his eyes. He pulled her slowly to him and kissed her gently on the lips. When they parted, they both had a smile on their face. She pulled him into an embrace, and the two sat there holding each other for a few moments. Bragnae breathed in his delicious aroma as she nuzzled his neck. He wore a fresh cologne with hints of warm, smoky undertones coupled with his natural, incredible Drake scent; it was the most amazing smell she’d ever experienced.

Bragnae sat back to look at him running her hand through his hair. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“Then don’t,” Drake replied, as he pressed her to him again kissing her deeply.

Bragnae melted into his kiss as she always does. Drake was the best kisser that she ever had. She let out a delicate moan as his tongue explored hers, which seemed to excite him as his kisses grew more fervent. Drake’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once moving from her hips, then to her sides, and finally cupping and massaging her breasts. She slowly moved her hips against him feeling him respond beneath her. He let out a gentle moan as he slipped his hands under the fabric of her dress that pooled around her hips. He grabbed her behind hard, but not without pleasure as he pulled her back and forth against him. Drake’s touch consumed her and she wanted nothing more than to be closer to him. She pulled herself away from him with great effort, and lifted her arms toward the ceiling giving Drake an inviting smile. He took the hint, and slowly lifted her dress over her head revealing a matching black laced bra and panties.

Drake blew out a breath shaking his head. “You are so beautiful.” He pulled her back to him lavishly kissing her neck and chest. Bragnae threw her head back closing her eyes allowing herself to enjoy each and every kiss. Soon the heat and passion was causing her to grow impatient. She wanted him. Bragnae put a finger under his chin guiding him to her lips once again. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid it open revealing his impressively toned chest. She ran one hand across his chest, as the other found its way down to his belt buckle. She deftly undid his belt as well as the button and zipper of his jeans. Just then Drake lifted her from the sofa and walked over to the bed still holding her against him. He put one knee on the bed and gently laid her down kissing her every step of the way. Drake’s lips moved swiftly to her neck and chest as he slowly rose up to remove his shirt and jeans completely. He looked down at her and smiled before crawling back on top of her and returning his lips to hers.

Bragnae parted her legs to invite him in even more. She needed him to be closer, to touch her in the most intimate of ways. She had wanted this for so long. Drake started to move rhythmically as he grinded himself against her making her body tremble with pleasure.

“Ohhh, Drake,” she gasped.

His hand slid down her thigh hooking her leg just before her knee, and held it against him as he continued to move above her. Bragnae allowed her hand to travel down to feel how hard he was as she stroked him over his boxers. Drake let go of her leg, and moaned as he buried his face into her neck.

“God, Bragnae, I want you so bad,” Drake managed to say breathlessly.

His arms found their way around her rolling Bragnae slightly on her side, and skillfully unhooking her bra before laying her back down. Just as he was about to peel off her bra for good, the sound of a phone ringing interrupted him.

“Ughhh, who the hell is calling me at a time like this? Don’t they know I’m busy?” Drake asked partially joking, but also frustrated.

Bragnae giggled beneath him. “Just let it ring, Drake.” She trailed her finger across his jawline luring him in for another sultry kiss.

The ringing eventually stopped, as they continued to kiss. Drake removed her bra revealing her impeccably plump breasts to him. She watched him as he gazed at her with admiration.

“You are perfect in every way, Bennett,” he said, biting his lip.

He dipped down to kiss her chest, nibbling and caressing her. Bragnae lost herself in his touch.

“That feels amazing, Drake.”

He moved to her lips once more. “You haven’t felt anything yet,” he said, winking at her with the sexiest smirk he’d ever worn on his face.

Before he could make his next move, the sound of Drake’s phone rang out again. He dropped his head in frustration, but then looked up at the clock on the nightstand.

“Seriously, who’s calling me at 12:30a.m.?” Drake furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Why don’t you just answer it? It’s probably important,” Bragnae encouraged.

Drake gave her an apologetic and questioning look.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right here when you’re done with the call,” she said with a promising smile.

Drake sighed and rolled himself off the bed to retrieve his phone.

“Oh, it’s Bastien! I hope everything’s okay.”

Drake answered the phone, and placed it on speaker. “Hey Bastien, what’s up? Is everything alright?”

“Hey Drake, I apologize if I woke you.”

“No, you didn’t. I was still up. What’s going on?”

“King Gabriel would like to see you.”

Drake swallowed. “Okay… when?”

“Immediately.”

“This can’t wait until morning, Bastien?”

“I’m afraid not. King’s orders. Shall I tell him you’re on your way?”

Drake sighed as he looked at Bragnae. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” he said unenthusiastically into the phone.

“Great. See you then.”

Drake hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed. He brought his hand to his forehead rubbing it as he sighed again.

“I’m sorry, Bennett. But I have to go,” he said, looking at her still laying on the bed where he left her. Drake crawled on top of Bragnae kissing her once, and then looking at her with regret in his eyes. “Believe me, I don’t want to leave.”

“I know. I don’t want you to go either but it does sound important.”

“Yeah… and I think I know exactly what he wants to discuss,” Drake said with a hint of anger in his voice.

“Maybe it’s for the best. Get that talk out of the way with him, so you and I can really have some fun.” Bragnae wrapped her legs around him pulling him in for another kiss.

Drake sank onto her indulging in another fiery kiss. She felt his hands start to explore her body again, and she didn’t want to let him go.

Drake stopped himself abruptly and went to retrieve his clothes. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to. And I don’t want to do this in a hurry, especially knowing Gabriel is waiting for me.”

“I understand,” Bragnae said, offering him a comforting smile. She too got off the bed and threw her dress over her head shimmying it down her body.

Bragnae walked Drake to the door holding his hand the entire way.

“I don’t know how long this is going to take,” he said, looking at her disappointed.

“Why don’t we just plan on meeting up again tomorrow?” Bragnae suggested.

He gave her an appreciative look. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the lips.

“Until next time…” she said with a flirtatious smile. Drake opened the door to step out of the room looking back at her.

“Sweet dreams, Bennett.”

“They always are with you,” she said, blowing him a kiss.

Drake smiled and Bragnae closed the door.

She sulked back to the bed and plopped down on it feeling disappointed and not quite satisfied.

Really, Gabriel? Ugh, we were so close…

Drake leaned against the closed door of Bragnae’s room trying to compose himself before walking away. He was still somewhat erect, and he definitely needed it to go away before heading to Gabriel’s room. He was frustrated with having to leave the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen who was just about to be naked in front of him for the first time, and he had a lot of pent up sexual energy that was not released. Not to mention, he was also angry with Gabriel for more than a couple reasons.

Fucking Gabriel. I bet he did this on purpose. He must have known we’d be together tonight, so he waited just long enough for me to get nice and hard before he pulled the plug. What an asshole. I was so close to being inside her. God damn it. He better have a good reason for calling me in this late.

Drake started walking to the elevators cursing both himself and Gabriel along the way. The anger only raged more inside of him as he made his way to Gabriel’s room. Sitting just outside the door was Bastien.

“Good evening, Drake.”

“Don’t you mean, good morning?” Drake scowled at him.

“I suppose it’s how you look at it. Go on in. He’s expecting you.”

Drake walked through the door and found Gabriel sitting in a chair watching the television. He glanced over at Drake and stood up to greet him.

“Hey Drake, thanks for coming.”

“Sounds like I didn’t really have a choice,” Drake barked back.

“Well, all the same, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you,” Gabriel began. “Please, take a seat.” He motioned toward the sitting area as he turned off the television.

“This couldn’t have waited until morning?” Drake asked, not hiding the disgust in his voice.

“I thought it could, but then I couldn’t sleep. And it appears you were still awake anyway. So, here we are.”

Drake sat down and looked up at Gabriel who had yet to join him in the seating area. He waited a moment to see if he, too, would sit down, but he didn’t.

“Well, you called this meeting, so why don’t you start talking?” Drake snapped, glaring at Gabriel.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Drake, and then he let a brief smile cross his face.

“I’m sure you’re aware that I proposed to Bragnae tonight. And that she turned me down,” Gabriel said, still standing.

What a prick. Is he trying to intimidate me or something? Why won’t he just sit?!

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Drake said curtly.

“I have to say that I was utterly dumbfounded by that response. I truly believed that Bragnae cared for me and wanted to marry me as much as I did. It was shocking to say the least,” Gabriel continued as he moved to sit in the chair next to Drake’s. “But that wasn’t the most surprising part of my night, believe it or not.”

Gabriel paused for a moment waiting for a reaction from Drake that he wouldn’t get.

I can play this game all night, asshole. Just get this over with.

“What shocked me most was when Bragnae told me that she was in love with someone else, and when I dared to ask who it was…well, your name came up. My best friend in the whole world. The one friend that I confide in the most, who I trust with my life and who I depend on to support and guide me when needed.”

“What’s your point, Gabriel?”

Gabriel scoffed. “Don’t play coy with me, Drake. I know you too well. Or at least I thought I did. You never told me you liked her. Why not?” Gabriel demanded.

Drake continued to stare at him until finally he looked away taking in a deep breath. “Because I didn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness. I knew how much you liked her.”

“So, you just listened to me tell you over and over how much I wanted to be with her, and you never once thought to tell me that you also had feelings for her?”

“How could I, Gabriel? She was there for you… to win your hand. I was nobody. I didn’t even think I had a chance with her,” Drake blurted out, but then composed himself before speaking again. “You’re like my brother, Gabriel. I would do anything for you even if that meant I was unhappy, which I was for a very long time.”

Gabriel took a second to let his words soak in. “I just wish I would have known that you cared for her.”

Drake scoffed. “Why? What would you have done, Gabriel? Just step aside and let me have her? Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“I don’t know what I would have done, but all I know is we’re supposed to be best friends. That means something to me. And you kept a big fucking secret from me. One that caused me to be in a very uncomfortable situation that could have been resolved earlier than when I was on my fucking knee!” Gabriel’s voice continued to raise as he lifted himself out of his chair. “Best friends…brothers are supposed to look out for one another. You stole the woman I loved, and you just let me make a fool of myself day in and day out getting my hopes up about marrying her! You knew she liked you this whole time, and yet you couldn’t let me in on the secret, could you?” Gabriel shouted as his eyes filled with pure anger.

Drake stood up and was more than ready to let it all out. Hushed tones be damned. “First of all, I had no idea that she liked me more than she liked you. I was tormented this entire time wondering who she would actually pick after her name was cleared, and resigned myself into thinking that I’d never have her because girls always choose you! Second of all, believe it or not asshole, I kept that secret to spare you, to protect you. I wanted you to be happy regardless of what I wanted. So, yeah, if that makes me a bad friend, then so be it,” Drake said matter-of-factly, but he wasn’t finished.

“And while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about what a real friend truly is. You keep cutting me down like I’m the worst person, but what about you, Gabriel? Huh?”

“What are you referring to, Drake?”

Drake laughed a humorless laugh shaking his head. “It happened only a few hours ago, and you don’t remember? Wow. Well, allow me to enlighten you. You pulled the biggest dick move there is! Even after she told you ‘no’ and said that she was in love with me, you still asked her to have sex with you! What the fuck is that all about? You have no respect for me, do you? I should have known. I pour my heart and soul into this friendship, and now I finally see your true colors when it matters most. Why can’t you be happy for me? Why do you always have to be the one who gets everything? Don’t I deserve to be happy too? Jesus Christ, Gabriel.” Drake stood there shaking his head in frustration. Yet, he still was not finished.

“And by the way, I didn’t steal anyone from you. Bragnae chose me of her own volition. I even pushed her away for as long as I could before I inevitably gave into her. So, don’t you dare blame me for this just because your pride can’t handle the rejection. I bet it felt real nice getting rejected twice in one night, huh Gabriel?” Drake asked with a sarcastic smirk.

Gabriel glared back at him. Drake stood there waiting for his response breathing hard from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He watched as Gabriel went to turn away only to be surprised by Gabriel’s tight fist connecting with his jaw. The blow knocked Drake off his feet as he landed on the coffee table shattering it. Drake instinctively brought his hand to his jaw and glared daggers at Gabriel.

“Who’s surprised now, mother fucker?” Gabriel taunted.

Rage filled Drake’s body has he got up and charged Gabriel knocking him into the nearest wall. He pummeled punch after punch into Gabriel’s stomach before Gabriel used all of his force to push Drake away. The energy behind the push caused Drake to land on his back on the floor, as Gabriel pounced on him hitting Drake over and over. Drake mustered all of his strength to throw Gabriel off of him as they continued to intensely grapple on the floor. Just then Drake felt himself being heaved away from Gabriel while he was still trying to throw a punch and kick in Gabriel’s direction.

“That’s enough!” Bastien screamed. “Your Majesty, are you alright?”

Gabriel and Drake sat on the floor breathing heavily and glaring at each other. Gabriel had blood dripping from his lip as Drake could already feel a bump forming on his jaw where Gabriel clogged him.

“Yes…I’m alright,” Gabriel said, breathlessly.

Bastien looked at Drake with sadness in his eyes, and then back at Gabriel. “Your Majesty, do you want me to arrest him for assaulting you?”

Drake looked at Bastien surprisingly, and then quickly diverted his attention to Gabriel awaiting his answer ready to accept whatever fate he had coming.

“No, Bastien… I punched him first. He was only defending himself. … It’s okay, you can return to your watch now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Bastien eyed both men cautiously, and then stepped out of the room.

Drake got up off the floor, and offered Gabriel a hand. Gabriel stared at him for a second, but accepted his gesture.

“You sure do have a strong, right hook, my friend.” Drake said, giving him a half smile.

Gabriel wiped the blood from his lip chuckling back at him. “I could say the same to you, Drake.” Gabriel patted him on the back before walking over to the bar in his room.

Gabriel pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured two glasses. He offered one to Drake.

“To our friendship. May we always have a bucket of ice and a bottle of whiskey handy,” Gabriel toasted.

“Hear, hear.” Drake replied as the two downed their shot. “I better let you get your beauty sleep, Your Majesty. I think you’re going to need it after tonight.”

“Not as much as you will,” Gabriel retorted, playfully.

Drake smiled at him and walked out the door.

“Goodnight, Bastien,” Drake called over his shoulder as he walked toward the elevators.

“Goodnight, Drake.”

#the royal romance #choices trr #trr #trr fanfic #trr drake #trr liam #drake walker #trr mc #trr book 2

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