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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 2 years

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One Step at a Time (Love’s Wrecks, Part 5.)

Description: Heartbreak is one hell of a bitch. And one Edward Teach could tell you all about it. Yet thanks to Fate being a little trickster, there’s a person who enters his life to remind him of how nice it is of having someone he can confide in, someone he can care about, and someone he can trust. To remind him, what it means to have a friend for better or worse.

Part Summary: After suffering through an emotional breakdown, Edward realizes that you might be a person he can talk to about his feelings, ideas, and everything that is going down inside his head. Meanwhile, the crew tries to guess what happened and even has a very surprising request towards you.

Word counter: 4.5 K

A/N: To explain it: yes, the reader is reading The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen and yes, it mirrors the pilot (when Stede reads them Pinocchio) deliberately. I realize that The Ugly Duckling was written after both Stede and Ed had been dead already, but guess what? Pinocchio is even fucking older, so, please, don’t be negative about small details. Anyway, I love these small bonding scenes and when I’m trying to write down someone’s lines (dialogue), I always imagine how they’d say it. Shit suddenly gets 10 times funnier inside my head.

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @soliyra-the-sunbringer @le--petit--croissant

Series master list: h e r e | Series play list: h e r e

Waking up and laying in an unknown room was one of the wildest things you've done in a long time. Maybe even ever, to be frank. There was this horrendous smell of stale rum lingering about, the dust was settling down with each passing second. God fucking dammit, it honestly was one of the worst smells you woken up to - it was sharing the number one spot right next to John’s farts. With a quiet swear, you managed to sit up and look around you. You've been too sleepy to connect all the dots from the previous evening. You've surely had to be on board the Revenge, but you couldn't name in which part of you currently were. This was some brand-new scenery for you. Clearing your throat, you decided to explore the place a bit.

For a moment, you’ve been looking around a wardrobe that was genuinely impressive in both size and variety - and for a reason, you immediately knew that none of the clothes belonged to Blackbeard himself. There was an enormous amount of luxurious fabrics, from normal linen to some expensive-looking silk; some were exotic with intricate patterns decorated with gold or gemstones. The color pallet was lively, from plain grey or black to teal blue and shiny orange. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air after seeing all the boring, torn, and dirty clothes the boys wore all the time. And more so, all the clothes smelled fresh too. This simply had to be a remnant of Stede Bonnet.

With a small frown, you yawned and stretched your back, almost screaming when something gentle tickled your calves. Looking down on your feet, you’ve noticed that you’ve covered and tugged into a long pink silk robe with an intricate pattern as well. And it was at that moment when your brain started to remember what had even happened the evening before. With each new memory, your eyes were widening in panic; bringing the tea, Blackbeard crying, you trying to comfort him… Fuck you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you moaned inside your head, this is beyond bad. This is horrible. What the fuck have I done?

Now, there was the question of what to do next. You could’ve stayed in the sulking room and panicked for a bit more, you could’ve picked yourself up on your feet and walked out of there, or, also, you could’ve just opened the window behind you and just jump overboard before either of the two idiots (the idiots being the captain and his right hand) will have the chance to execute that stunt themselves. It took you quite a bit to go through all of the options above, but you decided for living (just for now anyway); so you picked yourself up on your feet, hung the rope on one of the hangers, and straightened up. The newfound confidence didn't stick around for too long, though - moments later, you've been walking out of the sulking room hugging yourself, looking around like a hunted animal.

At first, you didn’t see him anywhere; that made you calm down a bit as you crept towards the table to pick all of the dishes up. You’ve been just putting the last bowl onto the tray when the wooden floor crooked right in front of the captain’s bed, making you jump since the sound alone scared you. To be frank, it was amusing to watch you from the shadows. You've been moving at a surprising fact pace, constantly looking left and right. The room was still pretty dark, so you didn’t blame yourself for not seeing Blackbeard earlier - and this time, you could see that it was him operating the body. His eyes were dark once more, the emotions were huddled up and frankly, you haven’t been able to read them; to be honest, it was freaky to look him in the two black holes in the middle of his face. The man was now furrowing as he tilted his head a bit, furrowing while taking in each move you took - his eyes slipped on your parted lips, on your widened eyes and shaking hands. You’ve been the most horrified he had seen you... Even more terrified than when he barely missed your forehead with that empty bottle.

What happened last night? What was that short-circuit you've noticed yesterday? Well, that wasn't that hard to explain. At least inside his head. For you, it must've been unexplainable. Edward was weak. Why was he weak? Because it was the three-month anniversary of Stede simply leaving him alone and about; three months of endless depression, anxiety, and hatred. Sometimes, Blackbeard couldn’t be the default setting, and yesterday, you’ve seen Edward taking control, letting the myth sleep for a bit. The anniversary made an absolute mess out of him, making him unable to control himself, he wasn't able to keep it in. All Edward wanted to do was to drink as much alcohol as he could, his goal was to pass out, to numb the pain for a bit; and you’ve been there to experience it first hand. And not only to see it but to help him go through it.

This was the part that caught Edward off guard. Ever since he started bottling his emotions once more, which happened after Stede disappeared, Edward didn’t have an option to confide in anyone. No one gave two cents about how was he feeling, nobody wanted to listen to his pathetic whining, and anyone on the ship hardly cared for Edward's feelings by now. Well... Not until yesterday. No one except you, it seemed. Maybe that was why Ed gave in so easily once you offered him the option to be vulnerable and broken, to open up without using any words. The man was so deprived, alone, and sad that he jumped after that offer. Now, you knew how weak he could be. What confused him the most was the fact that it… Felt relieving. It made him feel better.

Three months was a long time to lose himself to Blackbeard and to the chaos of the pirate way of living. It was very easy to slip back into the myth, to act as he was supposed to. Violence helped ease things a bit; aggression too, but it wasn't a healthy resolution in the long run. It wasn't any kind of resolution if he had to be frank. Truth be fucking told, Blackbeard wasn’t at all what Edward wanted to be. The day before? Maybe, yeah; did he want to be Blackbeard this morning? No fucking way. You weren’t Stede by no means, you didn’t know Edward well nor did you share any kind of connection to him (you weren’t even attempting to be a pirate), but there was this warm, gentle look in your eyes. And that was why you reminded him of Stede as much, because of that shy, gentle gaze. It was reminiscent of the emotion Edward associated with the word 'safety' - it was the look of friendship. So, Edward took another step forward and furrowed, even more, piercing his eyes through your ashen face and terrified expression. Then, he put one of his thumbs behind his belt and stopped on the other side of the table.

“I told you to leave me alone, didn’t I?” - The man asked, lighting up a smoking pipe while shooting sharp gazes your way. He’d swear you were about to faint; you put a palm on your chest, you started to breathe heavily and your eyes were tearing up. “And if I’m correct, and I know I am, Izzy also told you to leave me alone. And you, against all direct orders, stayed here with me. You’re nothing more than a fucking tea brewer, which isn't any kind of useful position, by the way, and yet, you still managed to ignore us both. The most important men on board this vessel. That’s fucking fierce.” - That was the moment you started to sob, looking at him like a horrified child that was just caught doing something naughty. Blackbeard brought his eyebrows closer together, waiting for your answer; if you’d have known him, you’d surely notice the hint of unsaid admiration in his tone. The man honestly thought that not accepting direct orders just to offer him comfort was fierce and pretty fucking brave.

“I shouldn’t have done that, sir. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’ve sounded so… So lonely and I just think I got caught up in my emotions. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly, ‘cause, you know how women get sometimes, and…” - The gaze you gave him was legitimately heartbreaking. Edward had to stop himself for a moment; what were you thinking about? Wait, what did you think he was going to do? Maybe he frightened you too well the first time and the rest was his reputation? - “Please don’t murder me because of this mistake, sir. I swear that I won’t tell a soul, not even a word. Nothing. I’ll be as silent as a…” - “Thank you.”

The man blurted out so suddenly that your speech halted in a matter of a second. You've been just thinking about various things you could be as silent as to when he repeated himself. - "Thank you." "I thought you were... Angry. Like, very angry." - You mumbled, not sure as to what you were supposed to do. The man thanked you, but what did it mean for you? First and foremost, it had to mean that you were not being killed off that day. Which, as usual, was something you sighed in relief for. To be frank, you noticed you were sighing like that a serious lot in the past few weeks... Was that a bad sign? - "Like murder me angry." "I should be, I suppose. If you want to die this much, I can... Kill you... I suppose." - The man answered with a furrow, barely containing the first waves of laughter shaking his body.

"Oh, if that's not an option, I'd very much prefer to stay alive. That sounds so much better." "Well, glad we have that off the table. On the other hand, I have a favor to ask you." "Oh, anything, captain. You can trust me. Anything you'd need, I'm your man... Woman... Whatever." - You blurted nervously, still shaking like a scared child. Edward didn't quite understand it; you heard it first hand, he had no intentions of killing you. Why were you still scared? Why did you barely look him in the eyes? Why didn't you have a normal, nice conversation with him? And, well, since Edward was never the patient one, his palm suddenly hit the desk of the table, making each piece of the porcelain set shake on the silver tray as well as made you jump a bit. - "Can you stop being so fucking scared? I'm trying to have a conversation with you, woman, relax already! I don't need you to stick your head up my asshole, just talk to me, goddammit!" - The man growled out in a deep voice, making you look him in the eyes again.

He let his palm lay on the desk, closing his eyes as he huffed out the smoke. Great. That much for making you more relaxed, huh? Using violent gestures, being angry, and overall just pissy. It wasn't his fault, that much he was sure of; Edward just forgot how to have a normal conversation. Izzy and he just spat insults into each other's face with Ed threatening to execute Izzy if he says one more word by the end of each interaction the two men had. It was so difficult trying to... Talk to someone again. "Must be my temper issues." - Edward stated with a neutral tone of voice, huffing smoke out once more. The next bit was what made you fully pay attention to the guy, though, simply because you'd never suspect he'd say that. - "Excuse me, Mrs. Trott." "My apologies, captain. What would you like me to do?" - This time, you added a small, sweet smile as you looked him in the face, slowly picking up the tray. The man in front of you was clearly struggling with forming the sentence, but he nodded after a while, looking away from you; this clearly wasn't an easy conversation for him.

"If it wouldn't be too strange, would you, in any case, serve the tea a bit later than usual and... Perhaps stay to have a talk?" - Edward mumbled out silently, so silently that you almost missed it. Oh dear, would you look at that - you were sure he was about to kill you just a minute ago and now you were about to have a tea party in the evening. That was, surely, a strange turn of events. On the other hand, you knew you couldn't exactly refuse this offer... See, you had to bear in mind that the man in front of you, no matter how shy and hurt he seemed to be, still was Blackbeard. Being alone with him still meant a risk; all it could take would be one bad look or a word and he could become agitated in a matter of seconds. But a straightaway refusal would put you in a really bad spot too. So, as usual, you just smiled and bowed a bit. - "It would be my pleasure to accompany you in the evening, sir. Should I bring you your morning brew, as usual?" "That would be nice of you, thanks. See ya." - The captain nodded and walked away from you, hiding in the back of the cabin once more. After that, you finally picked up the tray and waltzed out of the room, taking in a deep breath as you walked out of the small hallways, finally smelling the fresh air with the hint of salt. The weather was just beautiful - there were no clouds in the sky, the sun was shining and the sea was calm. Olivia was sitting on the rudder, right in front of Buttons' face, looking into the distance with her eyes narrowed; Buttons was standing right behind her with his eyes widened and yet, still absent, as usual. Swede was taking care of the rigging and Pete, as usual, was crawling on all fours and polishing the wooden part of the deck. It was yet another beautiful day on the Revenge... Not for too long, though.

As soon as the crew heard the door clicking back into the place, all the men turned their heads your way. Oh, God, yeah... You had some explaining to do, didn't you? You didn't think about what you were gonna say to the boys once you'll see them. The realization hit you as soon as you saw them, doing their daily chores; you had to come up with a story, no matter how stupid the story might be. And, as if this alone wasn't enough to bring your mood down a bit, it wasn't only the boys who saw you - Izzy, as soon as you appeared, cleared his throat and widened his eyes. Oh, fuck, you were in deep trouble, weren't you? ¨

"May I have a word, lady Trott?" - The small scrag called out to you, making you stop with a tensed smile on your lips. - "Why of course, sir." - You answered with a wide smile, following him to the back of the ship. As soon as he was sure you were out earshot, he caught the wooden railing in his palms and clenched his jaws. Izzy was about to lose it at any moment. "What did I ask you to do?" "Not to talk about anything I'd see or hear in the cabin, sir. Not like I planned on it, anyway." "That's cute, but that's not all, is it?" "Ah, I see. In my defense, I acted on the captain's behalf and with his permission..." - "But that's not what you were asked for, you... Moron." - Izzy hissed with his voice so high-pitched that you wondered about how high his testicles had to be. - "I asked you not to react to anything that would be happening in there, does that ring a bell?" "I'm once again telling you that I acted with Blackbeard's personal permission and with his well-being in mind. Do you have any idea about what your captain looked like yesterday, sir? Like a piece of mess." - This time, you stepped closer to Izzy and pushed your face into his personal space, hissing back at him. Being under Edward's wings, in a sense, made you feel confident. Since the captain sure as hell wanted you alive in the evening, that meant that Izzy couldn't get you killed throughout the day. - "How in the hell would you want him to obtain his reputation as Blackbeard if he's barely capable of walking out of his goddamn bedroom? Hm? And guess what, sir? The captain wants to talk to me in the evening, so if even try to lay your dirty rat fingers on me, you will have to explain yourself to him. Now, move out of my way, please. Have a wonderful day, sir."

As you left Izzy standing there, you were grinning to yourself with pride; the idiot was staring at you with his mouth open wide, not understanding anything you were blabbering. Where did that confidence come from? Who were you? A few days back, you'd start shaking just because Izzy would look your way. And now? Now, you were threatening him. - "What the fuck?" - The man mumbled as he watched you open the door leading into the kitchen, disappearing there with the silver tray in your palms. Long story short, you weren't wrong. Each member of the crew was super curious about what had happened the evening before - where were you? Why didn't you come? Why was your spot empty? Swede was so upset by your sudden disappearance that he couldn't shut his eyes the entire time.

As soon as you delivered Edward his morning brew of tea (this time, he was nowhere to be seen or heard), everyone started asking you, telling you their theories; they, in fact, had so many theories that they kept on coming until the very evening. To be honest, you and Jim had the time of your lives laughing at all of the theories; one being more stupid and outrageous than the one before. Wee John thought that you were turned into a mermaid and jumped off the ship to report to King Triton, the king of the seas. Swede was sure that you spent your night tied up to the hull of the ship as a punishment for being a woman (because Izzy sure as hell was that kind of a bastard), Frenchie told you a whole ass story about witches and cats... And the absurdities were becoming more and more absurd.

Only Jim wholeheartedly didn't care about where you've been or what you've been doing; they were enjoying all of the lunatic theories since they had to go through the same experience when the men learned they were not a mute man named Jim. Since you've been going through the theories while eating dinner, you two had been sitting at the head of the table, laughing while eating your goulash. "I think I'm going to disappoint you, guys." - You snickered after Buttons told you his personal theory. It was so crazy and intense that you only barely understood what it had been about. - "What really happened is that... I slipped on a soap bar in the cabin, hit my head, and passed out. As soon as I woke up, I packed everything up and left the cabin. But the witch-slash-cat theory? That's a fire one, Frenchie. Really good." "That's not what happened, is it?" - Oluwande asked with a grin on his face. "No, it's not." - You admitted, snickering as well. "And you're not going to tell us, are you?" - Jim asked with a smile on their face, watching your grin widen as you shook your head. - "But all of the theories were really good and creative. Why aren't you guys storytellers or something? Holy hell, imagine how would it look like if any of you could write."

As you used the phrase, storytellers, everyone's face saddened a bit. Everything that was happening at that table was so reminiscent of the days when Stede was around. The atmosphere was so warm and nice, everyone was a wee bit more careless than usual, and everyone felt nice. And damn, it felt good, to forget everything for a minute and to simply compete about who will come up with the most insane, weird fucking story. They missed the evenings when Stede would just sit down among his men, trying to learn more about them, telling them various stories and laughing at theirs. Suddenly, Swede looked you in the face with his baby-blue eyes and started pleading in a quiet, soothing voice... - "Y/N... You can read and write, right?" "I suppose I can." - With a chuckle, you tipped your bread in the goulash again. The entire crew was watching your face, making you very uncomfortable. With a snort, you jolted a bit. - "Yes. Yes, I can fucking read. Why?"

"Would there be a possibility..." - Pete mumbled, having others joining him. - "Yeah, just a slight one, you see?" - "It's kind of stupid to ask, but it could be really nice." - "And we mean... Very nice." - "Oh it would be great..." - "We would love that, honestly. Isn't that right?" - "Absolutely, man." "All of you, stop. Just tell me what you need me to do. Yes, I can read and I can write too, but how does that help any of you?" "Would you mind reading us a bedtime story?" - Wee John asked all of sudden, catching you off guard. With each passing day, the crew of Revenge surprised you more and more. At first, you thought they had to be joking. All of them were adult men, no shit they'd ask you for a bedtime story, right? Right? The longer you looked around the table, the more obvious it was becoming that none of the men was joking. They seriously wanted you to read them a bedtime story. There were moments in which it was very easy to forget that no matter how tough these men attempted to be, they were still softies on the inside. And so, with a big smile on your lips, you nodded. - "Fine, I'll read you a bedtime story tonight. Did... Did he do that?"

"Every night." - Jim answered, looking into their bowl of goulash. While they were going through memories inside their head, there was a small smile appeared on their lips. - "Back when I was still just... Jim, he read us the fairytale about the wooden boy. That was fun and... Wee John cried like a small girl." "Of course I did, the boy made it! He became life!" - John started defending himself with passion, turning the conversation into an argument rather quickly. So Stede read them bedtime stories... Wow. How much there could be to know about Stede Bonnet? It almost felt as if you were following in his footsteps and no matter what you learned about him, it was always a pleasant surprise. The man seemed to care about his crew so deeply and with so much warmth and love... Why did he leave? What happened? More so, did it have to do anything with the conflict he and Edward had going on? Even if you learned new information each day, it still felt like you barely knew anything about the Gentleman pirate.

An hour later, the tea set was prepared on the silver try; you were sitting on a barrel in the subdeck with a laters swinging above your head, watching the men go to sleep. You chose one of the children's books that you got from the boys; when Lucius heard about this strange request, a painful smile appeared on his face, but he didn't say anything. There was a gentle smile on your face; Wee John was holding a doll in his enormous fist, Roach was hugging a bag of potatoes with a contained smile on his face, Swede was looking up at you and Pete was sort of laying in front of you. - "Everyone tugged in?" - You asked after a few minutes of fuss. Suddenly, the entire underdeck became silent and all eyes were fixed on you. "Alright... Close your eyes now, just like that... That's it... Oi, what's the fuss? Listen, Fang, if you don't close your eyes right now, we ain't starting." - With a portrayed furrow, you pointed your finger at him and warned him. Suddenly, every man in the room was looking at him, telling him to lay down and to close his eyes. Wow, fairy tales were taken rather seriously on this ship, you realized. - "Guys, I think he got the memo. Calm down." - Waiting for a bit longer, the men finally closed their eyes and waited for you to start reading. And so, you decided to finally open the book and started reading. - "Ehm..." - You cleared your throat quickly, finally looking at the first page. - "It was so beautiful out on the country, it was summer - the wheat fields were golden, the oats were green, and down among the green meadows the hay was stacked..."

As you continued on reading, the room was becoming more and more silent; until the first snores disturbed the heavenly peace. Stopping yourself, you put your finger on the word you've been just reading and looked around. The men were all sleeping now, snoring and breathing loudly, farting and slobbering all over the place. You managed to barely read half of the first fairy tale; the ugly duckling was just bumped into the wild ducks who had been wondering about who the hell the creature is. Sighing, you quietly slipped down off the barrel, putting the book on top of it. Tiptoeing on the tips of your feet, you caught the lantern in your fingers and blew the candle before leaving the underdeck altogether. You had a promise to keep.

#blackbeard x fem!reader #edward teach x fem!reader #bi edward teach #our flag means death #our flag means death series/imagine #ofmd #our flag means death hbo #OFMD crew in action #look at all of my boys being sissies #i love the entire crew lmao #they be all stupid but in their own way and that's so cute #izzy be hissing in the background cause reader finally told him to fuck off #oh another wonderful day on board of the revenge #stede bonnet #stede bonnet x edward teach #we are getting there boys #the *drama*

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forestfiremind · 1 year

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nathan

i met nathan when i was 18 year olds. an “adult.” I also met Nathan when i was technically in a relationship. technically. soon after i decided to break up with my bf, a lot of it had to do with nathan. my “boyfriend” desperately didn’t want to break up, i told him i wanted to be done because he wasn’t being a good boyfriend to me. for 2 years. so he proposed that we do a “trial” run of us being together and him being the perfect girlfriend that no girl would ever break up with. little did he know that him trying to be “perfect” was what made me want him less. and no, it’s not one of those self sabotage things. it was the stage where a woman emotionally checks out in the relationship before leaving. at that point when marquise tried to win me back, i was already gone and was ready to move on.

so i am now a ‘plenty of fish in the sea’ type of woman now. i was single. Free. marquise and i had MULTIPLE break ups but this one was different, in a very good way. i felt like exploring and trying something new. nathan was the first guy to ever make me feel that way. i wonder if he knows that. that he had such an impact on my life and didn’t even realize. whether it was good or bad, he did, and he in fact did impact it, good and bad.

i was 18 years old when i met him. i was going to turn 19 in the next 7 months but still, i was 18. i’m 21 right now. even just from 18 to 21 i feel so…different? i feel like the thoughts and emotions i had at 18 were so child’s play but they were so strong.

Nathan was 21 about to be 22 when he met me. his birthday is in march and we met in February. he felt so older to me back then. so adult. so bigger. i felt like i was a little girl compared to him. he had more experience than me in everything. at the job, at sex, at love and at the time everything else. all i knew was marquise. all i knew was high school, which by the way was short lived because of COVID. how much does a girl know at 18? i couldn’t wait to turn 19. it would mean i’ll be closer to being experienced.

now being 21 about to be 22 in 4 months. i’m a little more wiser. i’m more experienced in jobs, at sex, at love and little of everything else. when i think about 18 year old me and how she was so confused about her feelings about this boy i want to hug her. she had so much love to give. so hopeful. sometimes i miss that girl. sometimes i miss nathan.

every little moment i shared with him i kept it like a secret. i tried to lock it in my memory so i’ll never forget. i think deep down i always knew we weren’t gonna last. or that what ever i was feeling for him was going to be tarnished and like every man, was going to disappoint me. i may have been young back then but i wasn’t stupid. i knew the challenges that were destined in front of us. he was a little older. i was going to college. he said he wasn’t ready for a relationship. so why did i still stayed at the store a little longer just to be around him? stayed in the car when he would drop me off when i should’ve just went in the house where my dad was waiting for me. not stay on the phone with him for hours on end when i could’ve hang up and wake up early for work. it was so much that i should’ve done to prevent that heartbreak. but at 21 about to be 22 years old, i don’t regret it.

i remember the first time i decided to stay past a little after midnight with nathan. i was following him around while he put paper towels and tissues on the shelves. this was the first time we were alone. no customers to interrupt and ask stupid questions, no cashiers asking me to check the price on milk or managers asking nathan to do something that could wait. it was just him and i. i remember the store being dark and quiet. the only thing you can pretty much hear is our voices and the other over night crew. i would ask him questions like how long he been here and does he like it here. he transferred from a different store so i would ask to hear about that store. i wanted to know what version of him did they get. was i the only co-worker to be interested in him ever? this was my first job. i didn’t know much about anything to be honest. is it common for co workers to date? to like each other? do i have to announce myself and maybe claim him? being 18 was weird.

that night nathan asked about a male co worker and i. it felt like he wanted to know more about us. he told me he thinks a co worker likes me and it seemed like he wanted to get my pure and raw reaction of hearing that someone might like me. i don’t know what reaction he was looking for. was he hoping that the feelings weren’t mutual? hoping it was? i told him that i knew that our co worker liked me but that he wasn’t my type. i wanted to scream but i want you. he said that dating co workers is messy and wouldn’t recommend it. interesting. he spoke like he knew from experience. my heart dropped once i realized that. what if he does this to every girl he works with? what if i’m not the last? what if he never wants to date a co worker again after the last one? at this time, i didn’t know much about nathan. i didn’t know if another girl was in the picture or if he was even looking. i was just a girl….in the store…..alone….with her crush. afterwards he and i joke and he asked me why not the co worker. this made me happy. i felt like he and i were opening an opportunity for us, even if it was just friends. but god please, let it be more than friends. i told him what i like in a guy without trying to make it obvious on which

co worker i really want. he laughed when i brought up how if the co worker was taller i would maybe give them a chance. i remember vividly that moment. by that time we were by the bakery in the store and only one light was turned on in the right side of the store. nathan laughed and looked at me. this moment i will keep in my memory. he walked up to me and my heart started to beat fast as each step he approaches closer. “you’re not even that tall you’re self, you’re to my chest.” damn he smells good.

i think that night was the start of everything between us, at least for me.

i could go into explicit detail on how everything nathan did or said had such an effect on me. good and bad. back then, my feelings were to intense. i haven’t felt that way about anyone since him. i’m 21 about to be 22. he is 25. sometimes i think nathan had no business entertaining me as much as he did. he knew how much i felt about him. whether he wanted to believe it or not, everyone knew. i decided to write all of this because lately i have been thinking about him a lot. maybe it’s because now i am 21 about to be 22. the age he was when he met me. there was a time when i was 18 and i told nathan that i didn’t want to be friends with him because we didn’t talk for a month straight. at first it was hard. working with someone you no longer want to be around. and i thought it would never happen to us. regardless of my romantic delusions i thought we were at least friends. the moments we shared were precious to me.

i was going through a weird break up when i met nathan. as time grew on and i spent more time with him, the awaited heartbreak from my ex never came. my ex and i broke up in 2020 and it is now 2023 and i don’t regret not rekindling things or crying after that last break up. half was because i was done being second choice and not being appreciated and the other half was because of nathan. i think i needed to meet nathan in order to fully let go of my romantic past. my ex. i needed to meet nathan so i can figure out what i like and not what i think i like. if i look at all the negatives of meeting nathan and how it didn’t turn out how i wanted it to be, i’ll be 18 forever.

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rainydawgradioblog · 1 month

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lyrics to life, a deep dive into the artist and the fan

helloooo!! my name is mya and this is my first RDR blog post!! (i’m super excited if you can’t already tell)

the coolest person i know has been writing for RDR for a while now and when she showed me her article all about the album songs by adrianne lenker, i knew that i wanted to be a part of this community too. sooo this first blog is gonna be about the songs that make up me, so you all can get to know her (spoiler, adrianne lenker makes a heartbreaking appearance on it)!!

1. "true blue" by boygenius

wow. no better way to begin than a song all about female friendship and connection. i grew up with a single mom, my older sister, and two older brothers. my mother and sister serve as power figures in my life and i can’t help but think of them during the line,

your love is tough / your love is tried and true blue.

the past few months living without them has given our love for each other a stronger foundation, and has become even more apparent in the 6 missed calls i get per day. it is an equally irritating yet comforting thought. but this song also pays homage to the lovely friends i’ve made in all seasons of my life. my emilee, my hope, my ify, my carly, and so many more incredible woman that built who i am today become alive in the line,

i remember who i am / when i’m with you.

2. "not a lot, just forever" by adrianne lenker

looking for a painfully heartbreaking song? hey right here!! bonus, this one physcially hurts to listen to!! my roommate once told me that my biggest strength but also weakness is how hard i love. this was after i went on an in depth rant on how the rest of my life would look if my situationship and i admitted our feelings for each other (spoiler, the feelings in question are definitely not reciprocated),

through your eyes i see / a smile you bring to me / to your joy i tether / not a lot, just forever.

despite constant heartbreak, i continue to fall hopelessly in love because one day i’ll get to experience a life resembling this line,

i could be a good mother / and i wanna be your wife.

i just really love LOVE. the idea of falling in love with someone and just being like, “i dont need that much of you, just all of it!!” like yes adrianne, we want every inch of the person we love so we can love them entirely.

3. "gramercy park" by alicia keys

this song is for the people who mold themselves to the ray of someone’s energy so they can feel more loved. unhealthy, i know!! who in their right mind would do that (...),

i’ve been trying to fulfill you with your every need / now you falling for a person that’s not even me.

her performance on tiny desk concert was incredibly moving. alicia keys has been telling it like it is since her first hit fallin’ (also my go-to karaoke song) which she performs for tiny desk beautifully. in this song especially, she describes the inner pleas of needing someone to stay so bad that you lose who you are trying to fit yourself into their narrative,

cause i forgot about the person i used to be.

i found her eventually, but at what cost!!

4. "lifetime" by faye webster

i live through a dreamscape fog called optimism, faye webster does too though so my feelings are valid. the word lifetime is mostly just repeated (honorable mention to the lyric, “can’t imagine me / before you / in a lifetime”), so the main focal point of this song is it’s mellow and rhythmic tone that showcase a seductively lucid-esque tone. lifetime also takes the crown for being so versatile, with making the cut for both my playlists for sex and for crying before bed!

5. "keep the rain" by searows

what if i just love this song!! what if there is no significance to it!!

nothings ever really quiet / when you need distraction to survive.

for my mental stability, lets end it here!!

it’s been fun,

mya

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denimbex1986 · 3 months

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'In the climactic moment of 45 Years, Andrew Haigh’s portrait of an elderly couple whose marriage cracks the week of a milestone anniversary, Kate (Charlotte Rampling) stares through a white bed sheet and into the past. Ever since her husband received news that his ex-girlfriend’s frozen body was discovered in the Swiss Alps from an accident decades ago, he’s been acting strangely. Itching to discover more, she sneaks up to their attic, finds his old projector, and illuminates a worst-case scenario. In an instant, her husband’s photos melt time. Her face, aglow in shock, appears to have just witnessed a ghost.

Indeed, Kate’s obsession with the past and its lack of closure has a haunting effect. She has found a punishing secret she cannot share, cannot escape, isolating and distorting the world around her. It’s a dizzying symptom that Haigh explores more intently in All of Us Strangers, his latest film that functions like a beautiful, gut-wrenching, and disorienting dream. Which is to say, everything feels just slightly elevated—the moods more intense, the colors brighter and somehow hazier, the conversations specifically formatted to reach a distinct destination. The real world, but trapped in a fantasy.

Adam (Andrew Scott), a lonely TV writer, seems to first slip into this fuzzy, liminal state inside his London apartment, starting a screenplay about his childhood set in 1987. Slumped at his computer, he pounces to his keyboard, then pauses and reconsiders, before slumping back and staring into space. Haigh then cuts to him lounging and snacking on the couch, one of the more authentic tongue-in-cheek winks at the writer’s process you will see in a movie. Adam needs inspiration. Instead he receives a strange knock at his door and a drunken advance from Harry (Paul Mescal), his only neighbor in their mostly empty and quiet high-rise. Adam rebuffs him, but won’t be able to much longer.

Eventually, Adam hops on a train to his old neighborhood in Croydon, which might as well be a portal into his adolescence. At a park, he finds his dead father (Jamie Bell), the same age as when Adam last saw him alive, who greets and guides him back home to his worried mother (Claire Foy). It’s been 35 years since his parents slipped out of the house, took a drive, and never returned home. But they welcome him back into their old house so casually, as though no time has passed at all. It’s a delightful surprise to Adam, who spends little time attempting to comprehend the logistics of this inter-dimensional rift. They have no bearing on this unexpected reunion. He is back in their arms again—only much taller and older.

Over dinner, Adam begins to share the details of his modern life, which his parents struggle to comprehend. It’s as though they’ve been preserved in amber, a quality delicately suggested in their dimly-lit kitchen and living room, cloistered by the outside darkness. Haigh’s screenplay is loosely based on the 1987 novel “Strangers” by Taichi Yamada, and the decade’s mores and music (his father plays records from the era) bleed into their conversations during Adam’s frequent visits. Like when his mother innocently asks him if he has a girlfriend, and Adam suddenly realizes she doesn’t know his sexual orientation (he never came out to his parents). The prompt soon begins a series of difficult conversations—about HIV, about being bullied in school, about his father’s absence—that Adam believes will supply him the catharsis he’s been looking for.

As his parents grapple with their past, Adam finds himself more vulnerable to Harry. An initial hook-up slowly develops into a tender romance, though Mescal’s soft and sad features suggest a darkness lurking under the surface. There’s something eerie in the way Adam must relive his childhood traumas and misunderstandings and then explain them all again to Harry, whose self-confidence and self-acceptance challenges Adam’s sheltered and unconsidered sexuality. In one dimension, Adam must modernize and update the people who raised him. “Things are different now,” he tells them. In the other, he explains to Harry the hovering stigma of words like “queer” and “gay” and the internal struggle of using that language. He is eager to build something in an otherwise empty life, but can’t resist his childhood’s glow.

Throughout Adam’s search for resolution (which begins a bit overtly but finds more nuance and self-awareness later), Haigh blurs the boundaries of his portal jumping. When Harry offers Adam a ketamine-spiked bump at a nightclub, his reality collides with neon nightmares and screeching noises that shake the foundations of his two universes. It’s more disorienting than unsettling, though Haigh challenges that distinction with visual elements (an infinity elevator mirror) and a sound design in which songs and score echo into various scenes, like one night, when Adam’s parents break into the Pet Shop Boys’ cover of “Always On My Mind” as they decorate their Christmas tree. It’s the kind of song that lingers long after they’ve finished singing, fitting for a ghost story whose entities exist like memories that Adam can’t stop visiting.

To his credit, Scott carries a warmth like a lantern inside these chilly environments. Even in Adam’s childish attempts to keep seeing his parents, Scott attracts empathy with lip trembles and anxious eyes, which Haigh occasionally captures bleeding into Mescal’s features or through his large glass window panes, reflecting the sunsetting city below him. That softer side—the glazed looks and muted generosity and care he exhibits to his trio—also emphasizes Adam’s passivity in this experience, even if he feels like he’s been in control. That’s never more acute than in the movie’s destabilizing and perhaps polarizing final act, which isn’t so much jolting as it is heartbreaking. Even in its overwhelming melancholic power, Haigh has made something therapeutic—about longing and holding on and learning to let go. They’re human lessons that sometimes need a paranormal push.'

#Andrew Haigh #Andrew Scott #Paul Mescal #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #All of Us Strangers #45 Years #Charlotte Rampling

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sebumis · 3 years

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You know? We were talking about adopting a kid... after he returned from Syria. We’d take them places... we even thought about names. Who’d have known... he’d come back in such a way...?

These people said... one of them said, “I’ve never seen the ashes of a homo” and ordered me to open the urn for him to take a look.

#tracey #river huang #philip keung #*films #*gifs #always want films depicting trans women to cast women but #in general I enjoyed this film #and I liked that ultimately we get a happy ending here #it's a little clunky in the wrap up (two time skips in the last like 15/20 minutes lmao)#but I liked watching this after suk suk #which was more about quiet heartbreak of being older and not living the life you want but instead living the life you feel like you should #versus this film being like hey fuck that even if you're older you have time to live your truth and be happy #idk these two mourning a shared love that they both loved very differently #and then falling for each other by seeing what He saw in both of them #was pretty good... to me #river huang was pretty exceptional in this scene and definitely got Some Tears from me so all in all well done #we're ignoring that I can't color dark scenes and moving on ok bye

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (02) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 7.2k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: So appreciative of your love for this story! I’m quite nervous with this one because I had to make changes last minute so I hope you still enjoy it. Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist (or if I missed tagging you)!

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“Thank you again, Mr. Jeon. Quite frankly, this still feels surreal but we’re so glad you’re back.”

Jungkook bows at the man, one of the executives of the Doosan Bears, one he’d just had a meeting with, which followed an interview with a sports writer.

For the past week, Jungkook’s days have been filled with meeting and talking to many people, forcing smiles and making conversations that quite frankly tire him but he welcomes this, knowing that any beat of silence will just force his mind to settle on you. And his pain. And his anger.

The man stops him in the hallway to point at a frame of the elder Jeon holding up the team’s 1999 championship trophy.

“Hopefully you’ll have one, too, and we’ll place it right next to this,” he says, a statement that Jungkook’s been hearing in a variety of forms the past few days of interviews and appearances.

It’s different this time because his father had achieved so many things back here, a national hero if people wanted to stretch it. Here, Jungkook has to live up to expectations, which many people believe he’ll exceed. His father, a good player and an even better leader, had been loved by many in the sports world, and it’s an honor they get to watch Jungkook play in the flesh, reminiscent of the man that many adored.

In the US, they didn’t know his father, so Jungkook was able to pave his own path there, make a name for himself guided only by the thought and dream of his hero, and not living in his shadow. It’s a dream they shared and one he’d achieved.

But for the first time, it doesn’t comfort Jungkook. For the first time, it angers him. It’s that dream that took you away from him, that took Jungwon away from him. It’s this dream that essentially broke his heart in ways he never imagined.

Everyone is quiet as they absorb everything that Jungkook has said. Since that day at your apartment, he’d been radio silent when it came to his friends, but he’s here at Jin’s loft now, with Jimin whom he’s still cold towards, and Yoongi and Hoseok who complete the group, as they’re Jin’s and Namjoon’s friends from college who’d gotten close to the young ones, too.

They’re glad they finally have the time to just be together after a crazy week. Ironically, it’s a somber event. This isn’t how they imagined welcoming the young one home.

They’re incomplete though. By nature of the concern at hand, Taehyung isn’t around; he’d left the group chat anyway so he wouldn’t have known that Jungkook messaged - finally, after a week of bombarding everyone with messages about you only to stop after he stormed out of your apartment. Namjoon is also not here, still not checking their group chat.

“Wow, I can’t believe ___ was pregnant all that time and had been able to keep the kid from us for years,” Hoseok finally speaks up, shock still evident in his voice. He’d been the one most vocal in stating what everyone else was thinking, the rest opting to just shut up and leave the talking to Jungkook, who’s now allowed himself to once again feel all the emotions in the presence of his friends.

They know that very little things get to him - whether they’re external stressors, outside pressure, naysayers, envious people, or school, he’d always been able to manage them.

He rarely gets angry, too, and doesn’t really let negative feelings fester, so Jungkook with a piercing gaze, pursed lips, flared nostrils, and clenched fists, as he is right now, is an unfamiliar sight to them.

And it’s all because of you.

Jungkook never took the very few relationships he had before you seriously; he’d been too focused on the sport ever since he was a kid.

But you captured him immediately and since that day at the field when he’d thrown a baseball and almost hit Taehyung on the arm and you’d shouted at Jungkook relentlessly for being a careless jerk, he knew that he’d want to shut you up with kisses just so you could get mad at him again.

He’d been a cheeky sophomore then, enjoying the bit of popularity he was gaining in Seoul for being an immediate standout of their university’s baseball team - the Pride of Busan, he’d been called - and he hadn’t expected this beautiful woman to almost knock him out for almost hitting her friend, even if Taehyung had been adamant that the hit was several centimeters off.

“I have better aim than that,” Jungkook had told you smugly, and his heart fluttered at the gagging face you made.

He wasn’t usually that bold but he felt it was worth it, especially if it was to see you scowl then try to hide a smile after. It took a few days until you’d given him more than 5 minutes of your time, then another few weeks before you finally agreed to a date, and then just two months to convince you that he was definitely worthy to be something more.

You both knew you’d fallen in love with each other even before either of you said it, the words always catching in your throats whenever you tried, but then he finally did, and he was over the moon when you’d said it back and he’d never been happier.

Even when you walked out that door and out of his life that December evening, he’d held onto you, your lingering presence enough for you to still be his anchor, his love, his guiding light.

He never thought that at one point, he’d beg for that to not be you. Just the thought of you sends him into a spiral, not of heartbreak or despair like before, he reckons that was even better; but of the feeling of resentment and betrayal.

Everyone’s chatter faints into background noise for a while, with Jungkook’s friends saying maybe you’d come back to Seoul only recently, hearing from Namjoon that you stayed in Daejeon with your cousin to work at a tech company. It had been a mystery how none of them caught up sooner, having only seen you twice a year at most and not knowing anything else.

“Ask Jimin,” Jungkook chimes in bitterly. “He was in on it anyway.”

The three older men turn to the man in question, Jimin meeting their curious gazes with a guilty look, knowing at some point Jungkook would grill him.

“Remember that woman I dated two years ago, the teacher?” He sighs.

Everyone nods.

“I surprised her one time at the daycare center where she was working. That’s how I bumped into ___. It was pretty obvious at first glance that Jungwon is Kook’s kid. I mean,” Jimin smiles, thinking about the little boy who’s taken his heart as well, reminding him of the best parts of Jungkook that's laid dormant for years. “Wide eyes, shy smile, puffy cheeks and soft features. It was unmistakable.”

Jimin remembers that day well, how flustered you’d been, arriving at the daycare an hour late and profusely apologizing to the staff. He’d stopped you then, his shocked face enough to let you know what he was thinking as you held the boy in your arms. It didn’t take long for you to tell him the truth, begging him not to tell his best friend.

“He’s finally playing in the major league, Jimin. There are too many good things going on for him there. I mean he— he’s happy. It won’t do good for me to tell him now,” you’d told him.

Jimin could’ve pressed more, should’ve gone to the root of your decision to hide it in the first place, or maybe even convinced you to tell Jungkook the truth, but you looked too stressed, a permanent fixture on your face, he thought, and he didn’t want to push it.

So he left it at that, knowing as well that between the pressure to do well and the rumors going around, this type of news would be a big hit to Jungkook. Ultimately, Jimin didn’t think it was his place to meddle; the most he could do was support you any way he could.

“How is he, the kid?” Jin questions, knowing his cousin would want to know but is too stubborn and angry to ask.

“The sweetest,” Jimin beams. “He’s pretty shy but becomes playful once he’s warmed up to you. He’s smart, just like ___, and is so caring, he's very affectionate and even talks to insects and—“ he pauses, as Yoongi nudges his knee and motions for him to stop.

Jungkook is still, jaws clenched again at the thought that these are things he doesn’t know and for obvious reasons. Thinking about how Taehyung and Jimin have done so much more for and with his own kid hurts him.

He loves his friends, knows he should be thankful that they’d been there for you and Jungwon but he can’t shake off the frustration, the jealousy. He wonders if any other man had the privilege of getting to know his son that way, of getting close to him.

He wonders, too, if any other man had gotten close to you. That’s a pang in his chest he doesn’t want to dwell on.

“Look, I’m really sorry, Kook. But a lot of things were happening with you then, too and I didn’t want to just drop that news to you. It would have been too much and—“

“You too?” Jungkook huffs. “I fucking hate it when people think they can just decide on such things about my life without me having a say. Wouldn't that piss you off if it happened to you?”

He’s met with silence.

It’s what gets him, really, the fact that people he trusted couldn’t afford him the decency of letting him decide, of trusting him that whatever happens, he was gonna figure it out.

“Wanna know what I think?” Yoongi speaks up.

“No,” Jungkook responds.

“That was hypothetical,” Yoongi says and shifts in his seat. “We all know ___. She’s very self-assured, sometimes to a fault, but she’s not rash, she’s not selfish. She might have decided on her own but it doesn’t mean she didn’t consider you.”

“She still should’ve talked to me about it. It was too big of a decision to not include me in it,” Jungkook retorts.

“But she was right, wasn’t she? You would have stayed. She knows you too well that you would’ve given up everything.”

“Why does everyone make it sound so bad? Of course I would’ve. That’s my son! I’m not the kind of person who would turn his back on that responsibility,” Jungkook bites back.

“It isn’t bad, but that’s precisely the point. Did you ask yourself why she thought it was worth it? Why she believed that the better option was to not be truthful for as long as you got to live out your dream? For as long as you got to reap the benefits of what you’ve worked so hard for?” Yoongi posits.

Jungkook stills, lips starting to quiver as he processes his friend’s questions.

“Baseball has always been your whole world, Jungkook. She shared you with it. It was all you talked about - the dream, what it meant to you, the connection with your father, the joy you’d feel when playing and hearing the cheers… We knew that, she knew that,” Yoongi continues.

“Your dream made you, Kook. It was all you knew, and she never complained. She loved you the same. And even with all your anger towards her right now, you know she wouldn’t try to take that dream away from you. Even if it means hurting both of you in the process.”

“But she meant so much to me, too. I would’ve done anything for her, and I thought she knew that,” Jungkook whimpers. He’d never once doubted what he felt for you and he always thought it was enough.

“Yeah, but do you think that was her first thought when she found out she was pregnant? That you’d give up your dream for her without any consequences down the line? She knew you would’ve stayed because you’re the kind of person to do that, but she also knew what that would mean, what that would do to you, and what that would do to them.”

Yoongi, ever the wise one of the group, makes everyone think.

The silence is deafening, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the way the guys have taken to slight nods and furrowed brows.

“Baseball was too important to you. She probably believed you’d lose more if you didn’t take the opportunity then. Not being there for her and your son was something she maybe thought you could always make up for,” Yoongi states.

Of your brother’s friends, Yoongi had always been the one you were closest to, spent the most nights at parties with, talking and agreeing on things. This is probably why he gets it, gets why you felt like you had to do what you did.

“Kook, don’t think she never planned on telling you. She never meant to keep it a secret forever,” Jimin says, recalling your claims that you just needed the right time to eventually tell Jungkook. “Maybe that’s why you’re even more frustrated; maybe you think she never wanted to involve you. Of course she does. You were her whole world and—“

“Baseball was mine,” Jungkook finishes, resigning to the idea that that's what you always thought, and you weren’t wrong. “She thinks I’d resent them down the road if I stayed and gave up on my dream.”

“I love you, Kook, but that fear is valid,” Jin says. “I’m not saying I agree with her decision but I think I get where she’s coming from.”

“But hey, you have all the right to be angry,” Hoseok says, disrupting the silence that’s enveloped everyone again. “Just don’t be so consumed by it, okay? You’re back, you have more of a reason to stay, so just think of where you need to go from here. You have all of us, you and ___ and Jungwon have all of us.”

Jungkook wipes off the tears that have silently fallen down his cheeks, the most he’s cried in front of his friends in years. It had been a change on his end after the break up - the walls he put up, the control he had over his emotions, the once soft heart hardening in places to make sure he wouldn’t hurt as much again. He hates to admit that it had all been because of you.

Jin’s phone rings and cuts through the silence that’s tainted with short sniffles.

“Namjoon saw the chat, wonders if he could come,” Jin asks.

“No need, I’m gonna leave soon,” Jungkook responds.

Jin relays the message to Namjoon who sends his own, then finishes the call.

“He said he wants to check up on you, too. You should meet up with him, I think it’d be good. It’s Namjoon, Kook. He loves his sister to death but you know he’ll be objective about it, too. Think about it, okay?”

Jungkook nods then lets some time pass before he leaves.

He thinks about it that night until the wee hours of the morning. For the first time, he thinks about what you felt the moment you found out, about what you were feeling and thinking that led you to decide to break up, and if you really planned on making him believe that you didn’t think it’d work out to cover up the truth.

Everything the guys said tonight rings in his head. What made you think this was the better option? What made you think he’d lose more if he gave up on the dream instead of being in your and Jungwon’s life? Why did you think his dream was more important than his life with you? Why did you think he’d resent you down the road?

It’s not lost on him that his dream seemed to trump everything else. It would always go back to that, it would always be about that, how even during that life-changing moment of you finding out you were carrying his child, what you considered was him and baseball.

He recalls the days leading up to the break up, how your conversations had been about his move, but never about the two of you. He chalked it up to thinking it was a given, that of course you’d stay together. He never realized that it wasn’t actually clear to you; it had been a given to him but not to you.

Jungkook doesn’t remember fights about lack of time because of training, or him not being in the mood after a bad game. Everything you’ve ever been to him was patient, understanding, and accepting of the sport he’d dedicated his whole life to, like it was a given, like it was the most important thing, like it was the third party in your relationship. And you never complained.

He loved you for that and more, for the fighter that you were, for the strong and goal-oriented woman that you were, for the thoughtful and warm-hearted person you’ve always been. He loved you so much. He’d fallen so hard that he willingly gave you his heart and let you do whatever you wanted with it, as long you had it. Because of that, you hurt him so terribly, he didn’t know how he could recover.

He thinks now that maybe it was on him, too. Maybe he didn’t tell you enough just how much you meant to him. Maybe he could’ve done more, appreciated you more, or at least let you know that you were just as much a part of his plan the way baseball was.

Maybe then you would’ve trusted him that you two would work it out, that it would be okay if he had to let go of his dream to be the partner that you needed, to be the father you needed him to be for your child.

But maybe you both didn’t know any better, he also thinks. You were so young, maybe it was too much to ask you to trust him, maybe you were also right not to. He’d definitely grown up the past years, and maybe he wouldn’t have if you didn’t break his heart the way you did.

He thinks about how you’d been the past years, too, how you took care of Jungwon on your own, how hard it must’ve been for you. But any more and he knows he’ll break down, and he doesn’t trust himself doing that alone.

He sighs at all the thoughts in his head and his mixed emotions. But his friends are right. He’s home now - he has all the resources, the time - what matters is what happens next.

He wants to understand better, and to know what you went through but he can’t bring himself to ask you. He knows you’ll brush off the sacrifices, the struggles; you never wanted to make others see your vulnerability, know of your weakest moments. So he decides to ask someone else. It’s 4AM but he doesn’t care.

[To: Namjoon]: Can we meet up? Jin’s bar at 7pm. See you.

“Uncle Tete, I choose this one!” Jungwon excitedly says, pointing at a toy submarine on the shelf. Taehyung is quick to retrieve the item then puts it in the cart.

“Okay, what else does this muffin want?”

“Tae, I said one thing,” you sigh. “Also, can you make sure that toy doesn’t have removable parts so he doesn’t attract kind strangers to help him?”

Your best friend rolls his eyes but Jimin chuckles next to you. “___, that broken airplane brought you to Jungkook. Plus, Jungwon wandered away; imagine if some other stranger found him,” he says.

“Shut up, I’m traumatized. That wasn’t the best way to let Jungkook know. Plus, I was so flustered that I lied and said I was babysitting,” you groan to yourself. You always knew how to carry yourself but it was really only Jungkook who ever made you feel nervous.

“I made it seem like I really meant to lie and you know that’s not true. I just didn’t know he was gonna be back. And you didn’t tell me,” you glare at Jimin.

“You think I didn’t give him shit for not telling me?” He replies. “Only Jin knew. Even I didn’t think he’d actually sign with the Bears. Everything was so fast. Before I knew it, he was already boarding a plane back home.”

“Well, he did say he didn’t wanna bug you since you’ve been so busy with your show,” Tae says from the shelf next to you. “Jungwon wants this puppy towel, by the way. Can I buy it for him?”

“Tae, I said just one thing. Stop spoiling him. We’re supposed to buy his school supplies,” you whine.

“Right, his father’s gonna hate me even more,” he mumbles.

“Okay, muffin. Mama said just one thing. Let’s go look at crayons now,” Tae tells Jungwon who smiles back at him and agrees.

“How’s rehearsal by the way?” You ask Jimin.

“Good. Just a few more weeks and we’re ready to go,” he says, excited over the Swan Lake show that his company is putting on. You’re excited, too, certain he’s going to do well. Being a professional ballerina is so much work but he’s always exceeded expectations. You know it can get stressful so maybe that’s why Jungkook didn’t bother informing him earlier.

“You’re watching, okay? The first show and the last, it’s when everyone is watching, too,” he says.

“You don’t have to ask, Jimin. Of course, I’ll be there. Sucks that Jungwon won’t get to see his uncle perform though.”

“Okay, just making sure, since Jungkook is here and all.”

“You should ask him, then. He’s the one who detests me,” you sigh.

“He doesn’t detest you, ___. He’s just angry, and with reason.”

You don’t miss the stern tone of his voice. You always felt the disappointment that Jimin felt towards you with what happened, even stayed away for a while after the breakup. Moving back to your parents’ home had been a good escape, seeing as how you didn’t know how to face your friends after everything.

It wasn’t until 2 years ago when Jimin bumped into you at the daycare that you two got to talking again. You know he decided to stick around for Jungwon, but it always worried you that he’d eventually tell Jungkook but he never did, which you were thankful for.

“I never said it wasn’t justified. I mean, after last week, I hope he stays angry at me, you know? And for a long time. I deserve that.”

“Hey, don’t talk that way.”

“You think I’m wrong? That I don’t deserve his anger?”

Jimin sighs. The department store really isn’t the best place for this but he proceeds anyway.

“It’s not that. I mean, it’s one thing to hurt him by suddenly breaking up with. And I won’t lie to you, ___, you broke him. That night, I found him curled in a ball by the door, unmoving, kind of like how I used to find him when we were younger… after his dad died.”

You release a long breath, not even wanting to imagine a balled-up Jungkook, sobbing. You heard him that night, how he begged for you to please don’t go. You walked away from the closed door then, as any moment longer would’ve just made you take it back.

“But it’s also another thing to lie about his son,” Jimin continues.

“You know I had to do it; he wouldn’t have agreed to break up if I didn’t make him believe that I didn’t want him anymore. And I had to keep Jungwon from him because I couldn’t let him stay. I mean, Jungkook and I just couldn’t be together, it wasn’t that easy.“

“Weren’t there other options?” Jimin wonders. “Maybe like, I don’t know, going with him?”

He’d heard Jungkook mention in passing before about possibly asking you to go with him but he doesn’t know if his best friend ever got to ask.

No one really knows what happened that night; Jungkook never said anything more than it’s over. No explanations, no follow-ups. Three days later, he talked to the school administration and requested for an early completion of his requirements so he could leave for the US as soon as possible.

“It never really entered my mind… I mean, I got pregnant after the deal was finalized and that was not an option at all,” you explain. “It would’ve been too hard, too scary. I mean, we were still so young and to be in a foreign place, by ourselves, with a child? And we were just together for 2 years, that would’ve been a huge step and—“

“Did you doubt what he felt?”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk as if you didn’t think you were ready as a couple for that step. You two loved each other so much. He loved you so, so much, ___. Doesn’t matter how hard things would’ve been, he would’ve done everything he could to make sure you two would make it, he would’ve done whatever he needed to make you happy.”

“It’s not that simple, Jimin. He needed support there, needed someone to help him and make things easier, not someone - more like two people - to take care of and what would have I done for him? What would have I offered?”

“That wouldn’t have mattered though, right? He always wanted to make you happy, being with you would’ve been enough, I mean, he loved you that much.”

Jimin is met with silence, and it hits him what Yoongi was pointing out the night before, and it crushes him. Maybe if you knew just how much you mattered to Jungkook, maybe you would’ve trusted him, maybe you would’ve trusted the both of you.

You let out a deep sigh instead. You never doubted Jungkook’s love for you; you just knew there were other more important things, things he‘s dedicated much more time on, unlike you.

You shake the thoughts away. You know that dwelling on the what if’s won’t help your mind and your heart, especially now.

You and Jimin settle on watching Taehyung help Jungwon decide on which crayons and colored clay to choose for art class, smiling at the little boy who’s been nothing but the sweetest angel.

Your smile fades away though, at the thought of how it must be for him too, meeting all these men who always introduce themselves as his uncle, never his father.

Jungwon had asked you only twice - one time when he asked if he was made of magic because there was this older kid in the playground who said that her mommy and daddy made her but Jungwon didn’t have a daddy; the other time was more straightforward, just where is Papa.

That kind of pain is truly unmatched, you think, and you settle for telling the little kid that his Papa is somewhere doing good things but that Papa loves him even if he isn’t around. No promises, no false hope. You made the choice and your kid shouldn’t suffer too much for it - you know Jungkook would love him no matter what.

“How has Jungkook been, by the way? And I want the truth, Jimin,” you ask as you save your sad thoughts for another day.

Since you reconnected two years ago, you never really talked about Jungkook and Jimin had always made sure to only bring him up when you asked. Which was never.

Everything is now out in the open though so you think there’s no harm in asking.

“Like I said, you broke him,” he sighs. “He hasn’t really been the same. We were all so worried, that’s why Jin made sure to go with him when he left; it’s why I made sure to visit him twice a year. He just became different, you know? Like a light was put out.”

You let this process for a bit. It had been the same with you, only you had a child to remind you of Jungkook. It had been hard to get over him - you didn’t break up with him because you didn’t love him anymore, anyway; it was the opposite, in fact.

But you had to try to at least move on because at the back of your mind, you knew that things weren’t going to be the same after that. You knew Jungkook would never abandon your son, would never not love him; you are altogether a different story.

“He was doing pretty well though, wasn’t he?” You shift the discussion.

You recall having watched games for the first few years. He’d been signed to the affiliate team of the LA Dodgers and was playing in Oklahoma City. He was an immediate standout and was chosen by the major league team to play in the roster the year after. It was almost meteoric, considering that he was a foreigner and thus, largely unheard of, but he was in tip-top shape, eye-hand coordination impressive, batting skills a dream especially as a rookie, and ran like Flash that it was a nickname the locals used to call him.

“Oh, he was great. Even the man who scouted him didn’t think he would be that great. But that’s expected, I guess, if you spend every waking hour in the gym or in the batting cage, if you follow a strict and intense schedule even during the off-season, and if you have no distractions like friends or girlfriends,” Jimin explains, pointing out all the sacrifices behind the success.

“But Maia—”

“Was probably the first friend he made outside of his team. You’d expect her to be his girlfriend too, right?”

You pause at this. You knew that at some point, Jungkook would move on from you; you did make him believe you didn’t want to be with him anymore, anyway. Yet, it was still a bitter pill to swallow when you found out about his relationship. She was a model-actress, so her presence in the games would often cause a buzz.

“He just changed in a way. There were all these walls up, even from us. You took a very big piece of him, ___. I’m surprised he even got to recover. I was afraid he wasn’t gonna be able to move on from you.”

There’s a pang in your chest at the seeming finality of Jimin’s words. Of course Jungkook would move on from you, of course at one point he’d realize that things would be better without you. You just didn’t think it would hurt like this.

“That’s good for him, then.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, of course,” you say. You hope he doesn’t miss the uncertainty in your voice, that he doesn’t detect the lie.

Jungkook enters the venue and heads straight to the bar where Namjoon is already waiting.

“Scotch, please,” Jungkook calls to the bartender, earning him a remark from the older man about how even his alcoholic preference has upgraded.

“It’s smoother,” Jungkook says, fixing himself on the barstool.

There’s an air of silence between the two men that is almost uncomfortable.

It had never been like this. Namjoon is a protective brother but given that Jin is one of his good friends who’d vouched for the young man, it had been easy for Namjoon to go soft on Jungkook. He saw how much Jungkook cared for you, made you happy, and as your brother, he’ll always be grateful for that.

“How are you?” The older man asks, sipping on his Martini.

“Great. Just found out my ex-girlfriend was pregnant with our son whom I didn’t know existed until a week ago. You?”

“Not great. My parents have been calling me, asking how ___ is and how you are and if things are okay. Don’t exactly know how to break the news that things aren’t actually fine.”

“They must hate me, huh?”

“Nope. You know our parents always stayed out of our relationships. They always liked you, though. But is that what you really wanna know?”

Jungkook exhales, trying to calm himself. He had time to think things through, but facing the emotions had been difficult.

“I just wanna try to understand. I want so badly to justify what she did so I could stop being so angry. I just want to stop feeling… this,” he says, clutching his chest, lips quivering. “It hurts so bad, I just don’t want to feel this anymore.”

Namjoon weakens at the sight of Jungkook like this, desperate to feel something else other than pain, other than anger. He’d heard from Jin how it was so hard for the young man to accept losing you, and then all this? It’s a lot for one person to handle.

“She was so selfish, leaving me like that, thinking I would be okay on my own. And then I finally accepted what happened only to find out that we have a child all this time? Please, please make me understand,” he begs, eyes glassy now.

“Look,” Namjoon says, turning to Jungkook, who, even with his build, has never looked so small.

“I won’t defend her and say that I think she made the right decision. It’s just that she made the best decision she could make at that moment. She knew what was at stake and she felt that choice was the better one,” he explains, similar to what Yoongi had posited.

This is your brother who always had a good read of you and it’s the closest to your thoughts that Jungkook could get.

“She tried to comfort herself everyday by justifying what she did - that you did well, made it to the major league a year later. You did what you set out to do. And I’m sorry to bring this up but when your mother got sick, wasn’t it that you had enough to pay for it all? No debts, no added stress for her? Life was good for you and your mother. It wasn’t the best, but what if you had stayed?” He asks, the question ringing in his head.

How would things be if Jungkook stayed?

“Again, I’m not saying she was right, I’m just saying that things happened the way they did and she made a choice. Any other decision would’ve had other consequences and she made the one she could stand by, that she could live with. I mean, it was all she could do.”

Jungkook thinks about this, how he’d felt comforted, too that he was able to pay for all his mother’s medical bills when it got too much. But life wasn’t good; it was excruciating being away from you, thinking all that time that you really didn’t believe in the both of you, convinced that it wasn’t going to work out.

All he had was the love and joy he got from baseball; it had been enough for him that time. Of course, with what he knows now, it’s different.

Jungkook goes back to what Namjoon asked, about what he really wanted to know.

“Did… did she have a hard time?” Eyes pleading. “Tell me, please.”

Namjoon sighs at this, not knowing how to answer. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Don’t simplify it. I need… I need to know. I need to not feel this. I need to not be angry,” he says, voice strained.

“She won’t want your pity, Jungkook, you know her.”

“Please, Namjoon. You know she’ll never tell me. But I need to know.”

The older man lets out a deep breath, knowing that you indeed wouldn’t tell Jungkook any of this.

“She stayed with my parents in Ilsan after graduation. She was four months along then but was adamant about earning on her own so she took several jobs online. There was a lot of stress but that’s normal, I guess,” Namjoon narrates. “My parents, Taehyung, and our neighbor all took turns staying with her because she’s so stubborn, you know? Wouldn’t tell you if something’s wrong.”

Jungkook knows that all too well, that you really are like that.

“Knowing that, though, my parents had her checked every week. That’s how they determined fetal distress,” Namjoon slows down, tone more somber now. “It was early detection so they were able to perform a c-section right away.”

Jungkook turns to him, fear and worry etched on the younger man’s face. “She… she had surgery?”

“Yeah. It was pretty tough and Jungwon had to be monitored for any disabilities or delays. But yeah, he managed, she managed,” Namjoon recounts. The events are so far away but it’s like the worry and the relief still feel so real.

“The kid’s strong, Jungkook. He has a soft and sweet soul like you but he's definitely a fighter like his mother. Perfect mix, if I should say so myself,” the older man smiles, trying to turn the conversation to a lighter one.

He means it though, how Jungwon personifies the best parts of you and Jungkook.

“But they were okay after?”

“Somewhat. She was required to rest for several weeks so those two bonded like crazy,” Namjoon giggles. “Good thing that Jungwon was a quiet one, barely cried, didn’t give ___ too much of a hard time. It just… took time away from her earning, you know? So once she was capable, she took this job at a marketing firm that was way too hectic but paid well and it just… It was hard.”

“How hard?”

“Hard. Jungkook, she was a single parent. A stubborn and proud one at that. Worked over 12 hours a day, took online jobs during the weekend, took Jungwon to daycare everyday, taught him to do everything, made sure he got to play and all…” Namjoon narrates.

“It’s why my mom visited her every month for those first 2 years, why Ara and I would babysit often, why Taehyung set up a place for Jungwon at his apartment on days when ___ had an event until early morning. She only ever asked help if it was about Jungwon, never if it was about her,” Namjoon sighs, recalling how painful it had been for him as your brother to watch you do it all, never taking a break, never asking for help.

“Stubborn and proud, like you said,” Jungkook states.

“Yeah and well, she made a choice, Jungkook. She made a choice to leave you, to have this child on her own, and she made sure to give him everything while being the best parent she could be, taking on both roles for him and she never complained, not once. She just kept going, you know? Never made Jungwon feel any less or that he was a mistake or that he wasn’t loved enough. She made a decision and she stood by it. I’ll always admire her for that,” Namjoon states, holding his own emotions back.

Jungkook lets this all sink in, suddenly wishing that he was there for you, that you didn’t have to go through all that by yourself, that even with friends and family, he’s hoping you didn’t feel so alone.

He knows how you are, knows you’ll exhaust yourself before you even ask for help. That’s how he knew you truly loved him, when you would tell him you’re tired, or that you need help, whether it was something as simple as fixing your broken light bulb or using his charms to get the administration office to agree on this event proposal you had. Being open to him let him know you trusted him. Until you didn’t.

You never minded asking him, and Jungkook knows that if he’d been around, you wouldn’t have minded him helping you, making it easier for you. And it crushes him that he’d wanted to be everything you needed him to be for you and for your child but you didn’t even give him a chance.

He lets out a deep breath, the anger slowly dissipating and being replaced with longing, with a kind of sadness that he now doesn’t know how to deal with.

Namjoon picks up on this and pats him on the shoulder. “Look, I know that you’re still upset and you have the right to be. Just don’t be blinded by that. You’re home. You have a son that I’m sure you want to get to know. Four years is a lot but it’s also just 4 years. Don’t waste any more time that was already taken away from you.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says softly, knowing that it’s still going to take a lot of getting used to.

“So, what do you wanna do now?”

“Maybe meet up with her? I mean, I was yelling at her the last time we saw each other and I just want to ask to see our son.”

“Of course, Kook. I’m sure she’d want that, too.”

You’re sitting on one of the benches at the park the next day, watching Jungwon play with Namjoon and his wife, Ara, from afar. Even from here, you can make out the doe eyes of your son and his smile that reaches his eyes.

He likes the cold, just like you, and he’s been running about with his toy airplane and submarine, which he almost threw in the fountain. You’re smiling fondly, thinking of how the universe had been kind enough to bless you with the sweetest little angel that it could create.

You feel a figure settle next you, not too far away. Namjoon had told you late last night that Jungkook wanted to meet you, perhaps to ask for a workable schedule to spend time with Jungwon.

“Hey,” he says. You shiver, and you know it’s not because of the weather.

“I never got to tell you but I’m so, so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, turning to him, your eyes taking in the sight of him properly for the first time. “There’s so much I need to apologize for and I know it’s gonna take a long time for you to forgive me.”

You’re unable to rein in your feelings again, but after that first conversation with him and then the one you had with Jimin yesterday, you can’t help the guilt that you’ve been trying to temper bubble to the surface - for hurting him, for not trusting him, for not giving him a choice.

“There’s no point dwelling on what happened. It’s done. I’m here. I have time. And I’d like to spend it with Jungwon as much as possible,” he responds.

He doesn’t look at you; he just keeps his eyes out on the little boy still running about. His little boy, his son. And he can’t wait to finally hold him, get to know him, fall in love with him.

“Of course, but we need to take it slow. He’s a shy kid and it’ll take a while. Let’s follow his pace, okay?”

“Sure. We can grab lunch on Saturday, then?”

You can’t help the hope that bubbles in your chest. “That sounds good, Jungkook.”

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Arthur throws a tantrum that has severe consequences;

Merlin suffers, and Gwaine just about manages to stop himself from killing The King.

TW: Extreme body horror and blood and grossness.

They're in a cave.

It's dark, and damp, and far too quiet, so despite the fact that their quest was successful, The King, his manservant, and Camelot's six best knights are still slightly on edge.

The traps had been circumvented, the artefact had been collected, the curse had been broken, and they were on their way home, but the buzz of dark magic hums through Merlin and Sir Mordred’s skulls, and the uneasy looks they keep sending each other worry Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine, which in turn worries everyone else.

Gwaine doesn’t know about Merlin’s magic, though he does know that the younger man has a lot more to do with Camelot’s (and Arthur’s) continued survival than he lets on. He won’t push, he won’t ask, but he’s an observant man who places all of his faith in Merlin, so if covering for him whenever Arthur casually asks if he saw the servant at the tavern, or supporting Lancelot whenever he makes a loud comment based on Merlin’s subtle whispered suggestion, is all he can do? Fine. He’ll do it.

Merlin’s face when he does so is always a little bit heartbreaking. He’s clearly grateful, for the trust, for the back up, for the belief, but Gwaine can see the desperation in his expression. Guilt and fear and apprehension all rolled into one, covered with a weak smile and a cheeky wink. Gwaine always pretends not to notice, and he can tell that sometimes Merlin is more grateful for that than he is for the original help.

Merlin’s stiffening back and faltered step finally persuades Gwaine that it’s time to step in again, but before he can loudly ask the group if anything feels off, a deep rumble echoes from below their feet.

It’s quiet to start with and the whole group freezes, gazes shifting sharply back in the direction they had come from; it’s only when the rumble suddenly morphs into a loud series of crashes and dust begins falling from the ceiling in aggressive swirls that Mordred yells:

“Cave-in!! We need to go!”

They all begin sprinting down the corridor, desperately hoping that their memory was serving them well; if they were right, if they hadn’t made any wrong turns or miscalculated the distance, the cave exit should be just around the corner. The rumbling only grows louder as they run, and within seconds, pebbles, and soon larger rocks and boulders, are falling from the ceiling.

It’s only Merlin, pushing himself faster so he can catch up to Leon, grabbing his cloak and pulling him to a halt, that stops the older knight from being crushed by falling debris. The curly haired knight widens his eyes for a fraction of a second before taking Merlin’s hand in his own and pulling him to catch up with the others, resigning himself to thanking the servant profusely when they were no longer running for their lives.

Everyone coughs the dirt from their lungs and rubs it from their eyes, hands out in front of them to stop them from running face first into a wall; Arthur’s victorious yell when they turn a sharp corner to see bright sunshine spilling into the tunnel about fifty feet ahead of them spurs the group even faster.

The ground somehow begins to shake even more viciously, and Elyan trips. He trips, and suddenly finds himself lifted in the air, only for a second, before he lands solidly on his two feet again. The knight knows magic when he feels it, and the others know it when they see it, so when the shaking stops all of a sudden, the dust frozen in the air and boulders shaking above their heads, they halt in their tracks.

Merlin, at the back of the group, lets out a pained groan, and all of their heads whip around, every single one of them panicking at the thought that their friend had been crushed or captured by some evil sorcerer. Their view of him is quickly blocked by Lancelot, though they can all see the servant’s shaking arms above his head, palms facing the no-longer-crumbling ceiling.

Gwaine is the first to step forward, cautious but quick, and he takes in a gasp at Merlin’s golden eyes. Lancelot doesn’t even spare him a glance, hands on Merlin’s shoulders as he lets out panicked whispers:

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Merlin, come on, you can’t hold this.”

Merlin just groans again, the sweat gathering on his brow as he grinds his teeth together, barely even paying attention to Lancelot, and paying even less attention when Arthur finally steps sideways, sharply inhaling at the obvious display of sorcery. Everyone seems to have gathered what’s going on now, and their gazes are ripped from the struggling servant when Arthur clenches his fists and harshly sneers:

“You’re a sorcerer! How long? How long have you been betraying me?!”

When the King takes a threatening step towards him, Gwaine moves to be in his way, landing a strong hand on his shoulder and responding with equal anger:

“He’s not betraying you, you arsehole, he just saved all of our lives.”

Arthur throws his hand off violently and it’s only Leon’s quick reaction that stops him from punching the knight, though Gwaine looks as if he’d rather enjoy the fight. Lancelot turns his head quickly, scowling at both of them but not releasing his hold on Merlin as he rushes out:

“We don’t have time for this, we need to figure out how to get out.”

The King doesn’t seem to take in his words, just stares at him with disgust as he notices the way he’s practically holding Merlin up:

“And you knew? You’re a traitor too then?”

The ground shakes, only briefly, but it’s enough to remind everyone of the situation at hand, and Percival jumps in, ignoring Arthur’s anger and Gwaine’s mistrust as he puts a supporting hand on Merlin’s ribs:

“Can you move whilst holding it up? We’re about thirty feet from the exit.”

Merlin just shakes his head, eyes clenched tightly shut and jaw so tense that Lance worries about the state of his teeth. He takes in a ragged breath, sounding as if he has gravel in his lungs, as he stutters out:

“Can’t... you leave.... run.”

Arthur lets out a loud growl, and Gwaine turns to him in anger, but before he can throw an insult (or a punch) the ground shakes again; Mordred only just manages to grab Percival’s hand and sharply pull him down before his skull is caved in by the ceiling falling half a metre.

Merlin lets out another loud whine, and Lancelot releases a sharp breath at the trickle of blood coming from his nose. The knight’s voice is desperate as he speaks:

“Come on, Merlin, use that big brain of yours, how do we get out? You’ve dealt with worse.”

Merlin can only shake his head again, and a crack echoes down the corridor as he screams. One of his arms falls limply to his side and the knights notice with growing horror the odd angle of his collar bone and the lumps of bone under his skin. Tears leak from his eyes as he groans and his breath deepens, only managing to yell one word in his agony:

“RUN!”

The shout jolts the knights out of their terror, but Arthur seems to ignore him again:

“You’re a fucking trai-”

Gwaine does manage to throw a punch this time, but Leon pulls Arthur back before he can retaliate, dragging him back a few steps. Mordred grabs Lancelot’s arm, muttering so only the knight can hear:

“He’ll be fine, remember? We will not, we need to go.”

Lancelot gives Merlin a tender kiss on the forehead, muttering whispered desperate apologies to his best friend before turning and shooing Percival back down the corridor:

“Go, go! We need to go, he can’t hold it much longer!”

Arthur is suddenly reminded of the collapsing cave around him, anger at Merlin morphing into anger at the universe for both making his manservant a traitor, and making him find out in the middle of a life-threatening emergency. He stumbles towards the exit, hand covering his mouth against the dust and pebbles that are falling through the air once more.

Percival and Elyan follow reluctantly, looking back at their tortured friend with tears in their eyes, but move towards the sunlight regardless. Gwaine moves in the opposite direction, planting his feet in front of Merlin and cupping his jaw softly with both hands, resting their foreheads together. He ignores Merlin’s whispered “Go...” and digs his feet in when Leon and Lancelot attempt to pull him away.

It’s Leon that yells:

“Gwaine, come on, there’s nothing you can do!” as the two of them finally manage to force him back, but he thrashes in their hold, screams echoing down the cavern:

“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM!! LET ME FUCKING GO!!”

They only manage to drag him back a few feet before he breaks free, sprinting back towards Merlin. The servant opens his bloody eyes, glancing over Gwaine’s shoulder to see Mordred, Elyan, Percival, and Arthur falling out into the sun. He looks back to Gwaine when he feels his warm, calloused hands on his cheeks again, letting out a pained sob before grinding out a cracking:

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

He lifts his broken arm with a loud yelp, placing his violently shaking hand against Gwaine’s chest and pushing. His eyes flash brighter for a second, his scream guttural and horrifying, but all Gwaine can focus on is the way his body flies through the air with a force he’d never known; within seconds, he, Lancelot, and Leon are having their falls broken by sunlight and soft grass.

He whips his head up, wiping the hair from his eyes with a hand shaking from adrenaline. He can still see Merlin, now on his knees with agony scrawled across his face and blood pouring from his mouth; Gwaine’s brain supplies the explanation that the servant had probably bitten his tongue clean off, with the way his jaw was clenched so harshly. He stumbles to his feet, an outraged shriek bursting forth when Leon and Lancelot rush to grab him once again, stopping him from running back into the collapsing cave. He pulls against them, but it’s no use, and the last thing he sees before the dust blinds him is Merlin’s tired, bloody smile of relief at seeing him safe.

The impact of the mountain falling, even only a few feet, was felt across the entire Kingdom. The sudden earthquake threw all of the knights to the floor and it was only when the shaking stopped that they could finally stand again. It took a few more moments for the dust to settle enough that they could clearly see, but Gwaine’s breath is snatched from him when he looks to the cave entrance to see nothing but rubble.

He immediately rushes towards the cliff face, managing to evade Leon and Lancelot’s grabbing hands and uncaring of the danger of unstable debris. He hands land roughly on the stone, digging the fingers of one hand into cracks, and thumping his other hand, curled into a fist, against the rocks repeatedly:

“MERLIN!!”

His voice almost cracks, but he doesn’t care, continuing his desperate attempt to dislodge the boulders despite the others’ shouted warnings. Percival manages to grip his shoulder tight enough that Gwaine can’t slip free, and yanks him away from the caved-in entrance, but the shorter knight just whirls around in anger:

“What are you doing? He might still be alive in there!”

Percival shakes his head, tears in his eyes, but before he can respond Arthur pushes him out of the way and lands a hard punch to Gwaine’s cheek. The knight’s head rocks to the side, but he’s whirling back again within moments, being held back just in time by Percival before he can retaliate:

“You fucking knew, didn’t you?! You knew he was a traitor!”

Mordred clenches his hands and jaw in anger, but manages to keep any attacks in, verbal or otherwise. Leon and Elyan seem to be ignoring the fight entirely; the past few minutes had seemed to catch up with them as they stare despondently at the fallen debris. Lancelot stands back, looking an odd mix between heartbroken and frustrated, eyes darting around the clearing as if he were waiting for something.

Gwaine squares his shoulders, shrugging Percival off and taking a threatening step towards the fuming King, fists tightly clenched and eyes blazing:

“No. I didn’t know. But he just saved all of our lives, and I bet not for the first time.”

Arthur throws up his hands and turns in a short, angry circle before facing Gwaine again, his voice rising with every word:

“With fucking sorcery!!”

Gwaine takes another step forward, stopped only by Percival’s soft hand on his shoulder as he responds in equal anger:

“Who gives a fuck? Gods, Arthur, get your head out of your arse, he’s been by your side for ten years, sacrificed more than we will ever know for you, and you turn on him in a second when he saves your life!-”

He takes another step towards The King, desperately trying to ignore the tears that suddenly slip down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the dust, as he gestures roughly at the mountain behind him and jabs Arthur in the chest:

“-He’s dead, Merlin is dead, because of you! No wonder he didn’t fucking trust you, look what you did!”

Arthur recoils at that, anger melting from his face in a split-second as his wide eyes move from Gwaine’s face to over his shoulder. His shoulders sag and his eyes finally, finally fill with tears as his gaze darts from one boulder to the next. He gulps, slowly stepping around the grieving knight as his hands begin to shake; Leon finally breaks out of his stupor, stepping towards Arthur and putting his own shaking hand on his shoulder:

“There’s nothing you- we could’ve done.”

Arthur shrugs the hand off, moving closer to the debris as his breathing grows deep and he mutters to himself:

“He... can’t be. No, he’s... he might be alive in there, we... I-”

Mordred, his anger finally boiling over, steps in front of Arthur. The King looks down to his youngest knight and takes a stumbled step back at the snarl on his face and the gold in his eyes:

“My Lord has suffered, once more, at your hands. Part of me wonders if Morgause is right, perhaps there’s no hope left for you.-”

He takes a deep breath and steps slightly away from Arthur again, schooling his face into neutrality as he speaks on a monotone voice:

“-Help is on the way, do us all a favour and keep your sword to yourself when they arrive.”

Arthur is frozen in his shock, as are Leon, Elyan, and Percival, but Lancelot just looks mildly disapproving and Gwaine is too busy unclasping his cloak and unbuckling his belt to notice. Arthur turns around again at the clanging sound, only to see Gwaine dropping his cloak and sword at his feet:

“I quit. I thought you were the exception to my belief that all nobles are corrupt, hypocritical, tyrants... I guess I was wrong.-”

With that, he pushes past the distraught, frozen King, to stand in front of Mordred:

“-What do you mean, help is coming?”

Mordred raises an eyebrow but doesn’t answer, instead nodding over Gwaine’s shoulder pointedly. Everyone turns around, only to take in surprised breath at the group of fifty or so golden-eyed Druids making their way through the trees towards them. Mordred and Lancelot push through the others and jog over to meet them, bowing briefly in greeting and ducking their heads to have a whispered conversation. Arthur is still staring at the cave-in blankly, but Leon stops the others from joining them with a firm wave of his hand. The rest of knights were clearly not in the know, and they definitely weren’t in charge; best leave this to the people who actually knew what was going on.

Lancelot nods to the mountain and Mordred gestures to his own collarbone, a look of confusion on his face. A few of the Druids gasp quietly, staring at the mountain in grief, but their leader, a man that Leon recognises as Iseldir, sighs and nods, looking as though he was giving a short explanation before patting Mordred on the shoulder and finally beginning to make his way to the other knights.

Leon walks up to greet him, and Iseldir smiles and clasps his forearm as if they knew each other far better than they did:

“Good to see you again, Sir Leon, though I regret the circumstances.”

Leon sniffles slightly and nods, trying desperately to keep his professional façade up by ignoring his red-rimmed eyes:

“Indeed. Mordred said you were... here to help?”

Iseldir nods and moves towards the cave-in, sending a short glance to the still frozen King, his expression an odd mix of awed and patient an contemptuous, before gesturing the other Druids forward.

They all raise their hands towards the rubble, eyes golden as they chant lowly. The mountain begins to shake again, though it’s clearly a lot more controlled, and the knights can’t feel it even from only a few metres away; nevertheless, Percival and Lancelot still have to grab Gwaine to stop him from pouncing at them in his confused grief.

The knights all hold their breath, Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival in confusion, and Mordred and Lancelot in apprehension at what they would see. They know of Merlin’s... abilities. But this... a small part of them prayed that he had died, or that he was at least unconscious. A mountain as a blanket can’t be...comfortable.

After a few more moments the shaking becomes uniform, and boulders slowly begin to extract themselves from the cave entrance, floating through the air serenely and piling up a few metres to the side. The knights all hold their breath as the Druids strain, and Lancelot walks towards the cave with caution. His steps are slow and his hands are held out in front of him, ready to bolt at a moments notice, but he gets to the cliffside just as a narrow walkway through the middle of all the rubble opens up.

He looks back, waiting for Iseldir’s nod of approval before making his way into the darkness. None of the knights follow, despite their desperation to do so, knowing somehow that it wasn’t their place to rescue Merlin. Not this time.

Lancelot is gone for maybe twenty seconds before the others hear his wretched yelp, and it’s barely a few seconds later that he stumbles out of the cave again, pale as a sheet with sweat gathering on his forehead. He quickly staggers to the side, one hand using the wall to hold his weight up and the other resting on his bent knee as he leans over to vomit in the bushes. The knights are frozen in their shock, but tears gather in their eyes once more when Lancelot quickly turns to face Iseldir, wiping a hand sleeve across his mouth haphazardly, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks as he speaks desperately, his eyes manic:

“Please, please tell me he died. He... he can’t have lived through... lived through that.”

Iseldir gives him a mournful smile, but before he can say anything, Gwaine makes a dart to the entrance cave. Lancelot quickly steps in his way, digging his heels in and using all his strength to hold the bulkier man back:

“NO! Gwaine, you don’t want to see in there, ok? I swear to you, you will regret it for the rest of your life if you go in there.”

Gwaine pushes against him one last time, but quickly gives up, stumbling back and dropping to his knees with his face in his hands, muffling his cries. Lance’s distraught gaze finds Iseldir again, and the Druid nods:

“His body dies like any other, though we can only pray that it was quick. His resurrection will be incredibly... agonising however; I can appreciate the difficulty in what I’m asking, but might I request you stay at his side as he wakes? Myself and my group have strength in numbers and can hold the passage open for hours if needed, but I imagine he will begin to wake soon.”

Lance nods and moves towards the entrance again. No one mentions his uneasy steps or the way his hands shake. He pauses and looks back briefly at Arthur’s croaking question, but just gives a pointed look to an equally pale Mordred before continuing his journey:

“He’s... he’s still alive?”

Mordred steps in front of The King again, unwilling to let him run anywhere like Gwaine had tried, but it’s Iseldir that cryptically answers:

“No. But he will be.”

The Druid turns back to the cave without another word, re-focusing his magic onto the task at hand.

An odd silence deafens the knights, but if they listen hard enough, they find they can almost hear Lancelot’s gasping deep breaths as he once again lays eyes on... what’s left. Time seems to drag on, the silence getting heavier and heavier, though a long, low groan cracks through the atmosphere like a knife.

Percival lays a comforting but strong hand on Gwaine’s shoulder as everyone tenses, but no one manages to hold in their tears when the low groan gets louder and louder, rising in pitch until it’s an agonized screech.

Leon looks to Iseldir in horror, his eyes wide and his mouth open as he stutters over words he can’t force himself to say; Iseldir looks back at him, and the First Knight sees tears shining in his eyes at his Lord’s pain:

“The vital parts of his body, the skull and brain, the heart, the lungs, the spine, will have repaired themselves first, then he woke up. He will remain conscious whilst the rest of his body stitches itself back together; it is agony like no other.”

The screech halts all of a sudden with a sickening gurgle, the sound distinctly reminding the knights of someone choking on bone and blood.

Lancelot’s shaking voice echoes down the stone corridor:

“You... you can do this, Merlin. It’s ok, I’m not leaving you. Everything’s.. everything’s going to be ok, you can do this.”

At the horror and grief in his tone, Elyan stumbles forward to kneel behind Gwaine, covering his friend’s ears with his hands and pressing his forehead to the crown of his shaking head. Percival also sits with them, closing his eyes against the tears and attempting to breath slowly. Mordred stands still, but his hands and jaw are clenched tightly as he stares blankly at the grass at his feet, flinching ever so slightly at every groan and scream and cry that emerges from the darkness. Leon takes Arthur’s hand, and though The King doesn’t look at him, the tight way he squeezes his fingers is all the acknowledgement that he was still somewhat present that Leon needed.

The sound of Lancelot hiccupping through his sobs can be heard, but that’s quickly drowned out by sickening cracking sounds and more screaming.

Time seems both to drag and to fly by; anywhere from ten seconds to ten hours could’ve passed by the time Merlin stops screaming for good. The knights can’t help but feel selfish for how grateful they are that they didn’t have to watch it; listening to it was enough to give then nightmares for a long long time.

They finally hear a scuffling sound from within the cave and everyone’s eyes comes back into focus as they look up, not bothering to clear their faces of tears as they see Lancelot struggle to walk through the debris, Merlin hanging from his side with his arm over the knight’s shoulder.

Leon is the first to react, darting forward to help the exhausted, blood-soaked knight take Merlin’s weight. Everyone is frozen in horror at way Merlin’s tattered clothes hang off of him, absolutely drenched in blood; not even an inch of fabric has escaped being stained. Leon and Lancelot lay the groaning servant down in the soft grass as the Druids begin filling the tunnel with debris and rubble, wanting to make the structure as stable as possible before they stop holding the mountain up.

The golden-eyed sorcerers step back slowly, untensing when the mountain settles straight away; there must’ve been some sort of old magical trap in the stone, it would be best not to disturb it again if they could help it.

The knights gather around Merlin’s red form, noticing absent-mindedly that it was almost dark, so they must’ve been here for three hours at least. Mordred pushes to the front, his skin pale but his expression blank as he takes a clean rag and some water from his pack (the horses had been left at the entrance to the cave, so they thankfully hadn’t lost any supplies in the disaster). He made quick, but gentle work of cleaning Merlin as best he could, getting the blood off his face and hands and out of his hair. Lancelot pats him on the shoulder with a shaking hand before standing again and stumbling towards Iseldir; the knights barely pay him any attention as he walks off, focused entirely on Merlin’s limp body. No one attempts to touch him, not with the possessive glares Mordred is sending to anyone who gets too close.

The Druid cups Lance’s elbow, his grip surprisingly strong and supportive as Lancelot tries to gather his thoughts and force some sort of sentence out of his mouth. After a few moments, the quiet question eventually comes:

“What now?”

Iseldir smiles at him mournfully, glancing over his shoulder at the gathering of knights before looking back to Lance:

“That is up to The Once and Future King, I suppose. Emrys is exhausted, now that the pain has passed I imagine he’ll be asleep for several days. Look after him until he wakes, won’t you? I have faith that everything will work out in the end, but remember, Emrys, Sir Mordred, Lady Morgana, and yourself always have a place among us, should you want it.”

Lancelot gives him a small smile and steps back, nodding his gratitude at the other Druids before turning around and going back to Merlin, not looking back as they make their way from the clearing and back into the forest. He comes to stand behind Mordred, putting a hand on his shoulder and waiting until the younger man looks up at him before saying:

“It’s almost dark, we need to set up camp. He should have a spare set of clothes in his pack so you and I can take him to the river to wash and change him whilst the others get set up.”

Mordred takes a while to reply, but finally nods. He goes to pick Merlin up, but Gwaine beats him to it, gathering his unconscious form in his arms with more care than the knights have ever seen him exhibit before; Mordred freezes for a second, about to pounce on Gwaine for daring to touch him, but quickly relaxes as he remembers Gwaine’s reaction to... well... everything.

It doesn’t take them long to find a camping spot, Mordred and Lancelot leading the way back into the forest towards the river with Arthur bringing up the rear. Out of tactical necessity or guilt, no one knows, but no one bothers to ask.

Soon enough a fire is roaring and Mordred, Lancelot, and Gwaine have disappeared into the trees with Merlin. Elyan, Percival, and Leon share the occasional worried glance, both at the events of the day and Arthur’s disturbing stillness. It was maybe half a candle-mark after the others went to the river that Arthur cleared his throat and spoke, his voice croaky from tears and disuse:

“How... how long, do you think? How long as he been a sorcerer?”

His gaze stays firmly on the fire, even as the others bristle in slight anger, mistaking his questions for continued animosity. Leon is the first to answer, his tone slow and measured:

“To be that powerful, and to have Druids at his beck and call... a while, I imagine. Sire.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, and it’s Elyan that speaks next, his eyes narrowed and his tone far less regulated that Leon’s:

“Still plan on punishing him then? Trying to figure out how you should execute the man who just went through hours of endless agony to save your life?”

Leon looks to him sharply but doesn’t say anything, surprised by the normally-gentle Percival’s nod of agreement. Arthur looks up quickly as well, though his expression is one of shock and pain:

“What?! No! I wouldn’t.. I don’t... I just meant, how long has he had to hide? You... Gwaine, he was right. He’s probably saved our lives, my life, a dozen times pulling stupid stunts like that,-”

Arthur’s cut off by the others walking back into camp, Mordred giving him a blank stare as he says in a monotone voice:

“More than a dozen, Sire. Many more. He’s saved your life directly and indirectly hundreds of times. And never has he sought any credit. The two of you together are meant to be the saviours of this world, or so the prophecies say.-”

They all stare at him blankly as he sits down by the fire, Lancelot settling Merlin in Gwaine’s lap before covering them both with thick blankets and settling next to them:

“-Though I find myself running low on faith in you, My Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but stays silent, turning back to the fire again as the other knights stare at Mordred in confusion. He just huffs and rolls his eyes when he notices their questioning expressions, looking to Lancelot and frowning when the knight just nods at him knowingly. He sighs again, glancing to Merlin, still protectively wrapped up in blankets and Gwaine, before looking to The King and beginning to explain in a tired voice:

“Druid seers have been having visions of The once and Future King, that’s you,-”

Mordred points at Arthur, waiting for the blonde to look up and acknowledge the conversation before dropping his hand and continuing:

“-and Lord Emrys, that’s Merlin, uniting all of Albion under your shared rule, ushering in a Golden Age where the magic and the non-magic are once again in balance. Merlin was made aware of his role in these... fates, when he first arrived in Camelot. I also have a role, as do a few others, though no one else is aware of the... specifics.”

Arthur nods slowly, glancing worriedly to Merlin and Gwaine (who is paying absolutely no attention to the conversation, focused only on stroking Merlin’s hair and periodically checking his pulse) before looking into the fire again:

“The magic and non-magic in... balance?”

Mordred nods, the crease between his eyebrows growing slightly deeper as he slowly responds:

“Hmm. Magic is natural and necessary for the universe to function. You though the Gods wouldn’t intervene when your father started culling it?-”

Arthur blinked and sat up straight in his shock, but otherwise didn’t kick off, which Mordred was taking as a good sign, and continued:

“Magic is not evil, nor is it good. It just... is. Merlin is immortal, some say blessed, I say cursed, to be stuck on this earth, forever alone, until balance is achieved. How long, Arthur, are you willing to force him to wait?”

The knights all hold their breath in suspense, staring at Arthur who in turn is back to staring at Merlin. He gulps, blinks a few times, and shakes his head, before looking to Leon:

“How quickly can we make it back to Camelot?”

Elyan scoffs and Percival frowns, looking to the floor, the two of them obviously thinking that Arthur was dealing with this the same way he deals with his emotions: by ignoring it entirely until it became someone else’s problem (usually Merlin’s). Lancelot and Mordred just stare at him blankly, and Leon tilts his head in question before answering:

“About... five days? If we ride fast and don’t detour to the village like we said we would.”

Arthur nods, takin a deep breath as he stares into the fire again:

“Five days, I’ll make him wait five days. We can send a patrol back to the village when we get home, we’ll be too busy planning a... Golden Age, apparently.”

Elyan and Percival look up in wonder, Lancelot and Leon smile proudly, Mordred nods and grins, and Gwaine... well... Gwaine snores.

Merlin shuffles in his sleep, his look of pain morphing to a gentle smile as he curls into his knight’s chest, his soul, for the first time in a long time, finding peace.

THE END!!!

I think the ending might’ve been a little anti-climactic, but I’ve written so many magic reveals and “magic isn’t evil it just is” speeches that... I didn’t really know how to make it interesting or different😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!! It took me way longer than I’d hoped to get it finished because I’ve been so busy with work, but I’m relieved I finally got it done :D

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peaks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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reciprocityfic · 3 years

Note

#5 for amylaurie

5. that emotional moment that you can't find a plot for.

He’d never had a particularly happy life.

From the beginning, it had been marked with tragedy. He adored his mother, from what he can remember. But his memories, unfortunately, are few and far between. He tried to keep her smile, her laugh, the feel of her hugs and her hand wrapped around his tiny one locked away in his brain and his heart, but over the years, they inevitably began to fade. Before he knew it, he couldn’t quite get the tenor of her voice right, couldn’t remember the sweet words she used to whisper in his ear. She was like a beautifully painted picture, rather than a human being.

If there was someone who adored his mother more than he had, it was his father.

His father took her death the hardest. He tried to find a salve for his broken heart in all the wrong places, began gambling too often and drinking too much, frequently leaving his son alone late into the night to go out and drown his pain in whatever way he could. When his father was home, he could hardly stand to be around him. Everything about Laurie reminded him of her - his eyes, his hair, his nose, his smile. He reached his breaking point eventually, and then he sent Laurie away.

School had never been particularly hard for him. He was smart, he supposed, and he didn’t mind the company of his tutor. Boarding school was different, though. He never quite found a way to fit in. He was too quiet, not quite as rich, and Italian, which mattered in a way he didn’t understand. He always found himself at the center of negative gossip, the butt of too many jokes. He hated it, so he stopped trying to assimilate and let himself fade away into the peripheries of his peers.

When his father died, it was almost a relief; at least the man wouldn’t suffer any longer. But again, it threw him into a world of uncertainty and unfamiliar territory. It sent him to America, into the hands of a grandfather he had never met. As he grew older, he’d come to subtly resent his extended family for disowning him and his parents, and wondered if this grandfather would resent him back.

He didn’t. But his grandfather also wasn’t warm, a product of living so many years alone, Laurie supposes. He knows Mr. Laurence has experienced his share of heartbreak as well; there’s a beautiful piano that sits untouched, that the servants tell him belonged to the old man’s late granddaughter. The few times he tried to play it he’d catch his grandfather looking at him in a way that wasn’t particularly pleasant, so he stopped.

John Brooke - his new tutor - was pleasant enough, earnest and determined to please his grandfather by giving him the privilege of an excellent education. They often butted heads when Mr. Brooke tried to teach him; he couldn’t find him in himself to care much about learning anymore. Couldn’t find it in himself to care about much of anything.

Then, he met Jo March.

His grandfather had noticed his melancholy and sent him to a party to try to lift his spirits. He doubted it would work - how exciting could a party in Concord, Massachusetts possibly be, after all - and quickly found an empty side room to disappear in for a while until he’d spent enough time there that he could plausibly tell his grandfather he’d made an effort to be sociable.

It was there that Jo literally stumbled into him, and changed his life forever.

He’d never in his life met a girl like Jo March, one that was so boisterous and bright and unapologetically herself. In his world, every girl was trained from an early age to be prim and proper and polite, so that someday she might make a good wife and a fine young woman. Jo was anything but, and when he met the rest of the March family, he learned that they all were, in their own way - whether it be Meg and her unabashed love for dramatics and pretty things, or Beth sitting at her piano, playing until her fingers ached.

Or Amy, marching around in a pair of fairy wings and declaring that one day, she would be the best painter in the entire world.

His childhood memories of the Marches were all Jo, her fire and harsh edges and iron will, but Amy was always there at the edges, making herself known. She always seemed to be at odds with her older sister, but he thought that was because the two of them were the most alike in a way, like two opposite ends of the same string. He would always take Jo’s side when she recounted their latest feud, of course, but he couldn’t help his amusement at some of Amy’s antics. He remembers, when Jo told him that Amy had burned her novel, how his sympathy for Jo had existed right alongside of his wild amusement that little Amy March had the gall to even come up with such a thing, let alone follow it through.

But even though Amy was there, along with Meg and Beth, Jo was undoubtedly the main attraction, the sun at the center of his universe. His world was filled with her, with her smiles and laughs and hair and voice, with her words and her thoughts and ideas, and soon his heart was, too. He didn’t know much about love, but he knew he loved her. He knew he wanted her to be a part of his life always.

So, he’d asked her to marry him. It was the only thing to do, wasn’t it?

When she turned him down, he almost hadn’t been surprised. A part of him almost expected it; he hadn’t been particularly excited to ask her, after all. Rather, he’d dreaded it, dreaded the moment that the delicate balance they had built would have to tip one way or the other. He’d always known there was a chance she’d reject him.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less, though. He thinks it hurt even more when she left; he’d always known Jo to dive into every challenge head-first, but then she ran away to New York. She ran away from him. So he followed her lead, as he had learned to do so well over those years with her.

Heading back to Europe was much more bitter than it was sweet, and even the grandeur of cities like London, Paris, and Rome couldn’t stop the vibrancy from slowly bleeding out of his life. What had become a kaleidoscope of colors was now just grays and blacks and whites.

So he drank, and smoked, and gambled, and fucked his way through life, and in a macabre way, never felt closer to his father. Except he wasn’t heartbroken, not anymore - he realized more and more that he never expected her to say yes, not really. That she was right, as she usually was - it would have never worked.

He just felt lost. Unmoored, with nothing to anchor him. And he started to believe that maybe he was simply supposed to live his life this way, alone and adrift and apathetic.

Then, Amy March came barreling back into his life.

She was different, of course - namely, she was no longer little. She had traded her fairy wings and braids for beautiful gowns and carefully coiffed updos, and all her lofty childhood wishes had been replaced with a stoic, resigned realism. It would have worried him, that the world had taken her and hardened her, but he knew that the woman that threw her arms around him and happily shouted his name on that Parisian street, the world around her momentarily forgotten, was the Amy he had always known and cared for, however proper she might be now.

And she was proper, but he found it didn’t bother him like he thought it would. Instead, he admired her for it, that she had managed to grow up so gracefully. She was lovely, he decided. Lovely and refined and determined, so much so that it got him in trouble with her, sometimes. She was constantly after him to be better, to stop his drinking and laziness and make something of his life.

She wanted him to respect himself. He’d never really done that; all his life, he’d known himself to be a bother or problem, a thorn in someone’s side. He didn’t really know how to respect himself, but for her, he wanted to try.

The problem was, it was getting harder and harder to leave her side. She painted in his life with strokes that were insistent, but soft, and he found that her world was just as colorful as her sister’s. It was her own, of course; if Jo had been a red flame, then Amy was a golden glow, like sunshine. But he found that he didn’t mind the differences, that he maybe even preferred Amy’s version. It made him warmer than anything he’d known before.

He doesn’t know exactly when he fell for Amy. It happened slowly, gently, and before he could stop it, she’d taken up all the emptiness in his heart, filled it with light and life and love. Not that he would’ve wanted to stop it; he found he was quite content belonging to her. Even when she rejected him that first time, he didn’t try to remove her. He didn’t resent her, as he had temporarily resented Jo. He knew it was futile, that he was irreparably hers, and he decided that if he couldn’t be with her, he would at least make himself someone she could be proud of. He wanted to be someone she could respect, if he couldn’t be someone she loved.

But then, God had smiled upon him - for perhaps the first time - and she’d changed her mind. She loved him, she wanted him, she loved him. And when he kissed her that first time, she ignited something in him that no woman ever had before. He loved her, he wanted her, her and her only, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

His heart sang for her with its every beat. Every breath she took gave him purpose, every smile gave him joy, every kiss and moan and tug on his hair made his blood run hot through his veins. He was so full inside, wanted for nothing. He felt like all his life he’d been trying to shove himself into places where he didn’t fit, whether it be at school or with his father. With Jo. But there was a spot beside Amy, one in which he fit perfectly, like it was created with him in mind. And as long as Amy was beside him, he could do anything, be anything, survive anything.

One of the things that he loves most about her is her beauty. He can’t help it; he is only human. A weak one when it comes to Amy. When she hugged him that first time in France, he’d noticed how the autumn sun had caught the strands of her blonde hair, her cheeks flushed from the way she ran to him. He first let himself realize it in her studio, when she went off to meet Fred Vaughn. There was something about the way her cream-colored blouse laid against her pale skin, the way the blue accents brought out her eyes. How her pinned-up hair showed off her neck. He could do nothing but smile shyly at her, any coherent words suddenly caught in his throat. And every time he saw her, he noticed something else that added to her beauty, whether it be the delicate way she sipped her tea, her lips a pretty pink against the white china, or the way she blushed when he complimented her. Eventually, in a room full of women, she was the only one he could see, as captured as he was by her.

Almost three years later, nothing has changed.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. He’s almost positive he knows where she is, and almost rolls over and closes his eyes. But he can’t get her out of his head, so he gets up and throws on his robe. The moon shines bright enough that he doesn’t need a candle, and he leaves their bedroom, creeping to the next door down the hall. It’s ajar just slightly, and he slips inside.

And there she is, just where he thought she would be. Standing at the window, staring out into the night. She’s barefoot, dressed in a white nightgown, long hair cascading down her back. The moonlight illuminates her hair and skin. She’s breathtaking. More beautiful than any painting he’d ever seen.

Cradled in her arms is their newborn baby girl.

He doesn’t want to startle her, so he knocks gently against the door. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him, but quickly goes back to gazing at the newest addition to their family.

He walks over to the two of them, placing a kiss on the top of her head before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and embracing her. There are a multitude of reasons why she might be in here - the baby could’ve been crying, it could’ve been time for a change or a feeding, or Amy simply could’ve missed her, could’ve wanted to hold her and watch her breathe. He suspects it’s the last one, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful scene in front of him.

He reaches a finger down to their baby, taps at her hand, until she opens her fist and wraps all of her tiny fingers around that one of his. Amy turns her face and nuzzles his shoulder, relaxing against him.

He’d never had a particularly happy life.

But standing here now, both his wife and his daughter in his arms, he knows nothing but.

send me a number and a pairing (preferably laurie x amy) and i'll write you a mini fic!

#amy x laurie #laurie x amy #little women #little women 2019 #amy march #theodore laurence #idk if this even fits the prompt?????#idk i've wanted to write this for a long time and finally took the opportunity #hope you like it anon!#anons are beautiful #thank you for the ask!

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sturchling · 3 years

Note

Hey can you do a daminette fanfic where marinette transfers to gotham because of lila's lies and becomes the class favourite, then lila's class goes to gotham for a trip and, unlike the french class, this one can see through her lies and work together with damien to protect marinette and expose lila. Adrijon pairing and lila salt and alya salt please

Marinette felt nervous as she approached the gates of Gotham Academy. She had never thought she would leave Dupont, let alone Paris. Now, here she stands in a new country, at a new school, on the other side of the world from her home. She had never wanted to leave Paris, she truly did love the city. But Lila hadn’t left her a lot of options.

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Lila had stayed true to her word for once. She had systematically removed Marinette from her friends. Marinette had been so sure that her friends would see through any lies Lila told about her. But it didn’t take much from Lila to convince the class that Marinette was nothing more than a bully. It had been heartbreaking. Marinette had tried everything she could to convince the class that Lila was a liar and tried to prove her innocence but nothing worked. The only people that believed her were Adrien and Chloe.

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Adrien obviously knew that Lila was lying and stayed by Marinette’s side, despite the class’ pressure to leave the bluenette. Chloe believing her had surprised Marinette. But Chloe had known Lila was a liar since that incident with the Ladybug summoning dance. Of course, even without that, Chloe would have known. She may not like Marinette, but even she knew that it was utterly ridiculous to think of the girl as a bully. Marinette was the furthest thing from a bully.

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But as time went by, even their support wasn’t enough. The class got worse. They were harassing Marinette any chance that they had, and Adrien and Chloe couldn’t be with Marinette constantly, though they tried. It was eventually decided by Marinette’s family that a change of scenery would be good. They looked at several study abroad programs, eventually deciding on Gotham Academy. The school was excellent and even had a very well reputed arts program. It was perfect for Marinette. Luckily, Gina had a friend in Gotham named Alfred that she had met on her travels who, after speaking with his employer, agreed to host Marinette during her time in Gotham. Soon, Marinette was packed and on her way to Gotham.

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That is how Marinette found herself living at Wayne Manor, in Gotham, about to start a new life at a new school. To say she was nervous would be an understatement. She would have been even more nervous, if not for Damian standing at her side. When she moved into the manor with Alfred, she was introduced to his employer, Bruce Wayne and his sons, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. They all immediately like Marinette, as a lot of people had a tendency to do. They quickly started acting like her older brothers, and made Marinette feel at home in Gotham.

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

So, on her first day at Gotham Academy, she was being escorted in by all of the Wayne boys. She was in the same class as Damian, which made her feel slightly calmer. Damian had agreed to stay by her side, knowing how nervous she was to meet her new class. After everything that happened in Mrs. Bustier’s class, Marinette was worried that the same thing might happen here. That she might become the class outcast and be alone again.

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Needless to say, that obviously didn’t happen. When Marinette was escorted into the classroom by Damian Wayne, it definitely got the attention of her new class. Damian wouldn’t hang out with just anyone. They became curious about this new girl, and were instantly charmed by Marinette. The whole class became very fond of the designer and they were all fast friends. And they acted like friends. They didn’t always ask Marinette for impossible favors, and they helped Marinette as much as she helped them. Adrien and Chloe would often visit her as well, and when they couldn’t visit they made sure to video call with her everyday. Marinette was the happiest she had been in a long while, starting to forget the problems she had in Paris.

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But trouble had a way of finding Marinette. It was during one of their video calls, that Marinette found out that Mrs. Bustier’s class was participating in a program that had them visit classrooms around the world and learn how schools taught in different countries. And of course, the American school they would be visiting is Gotham Academy. And of course, it was Marinette’s class that they would be joining for the week. Just like that, all of Marinette’s worries came crashing back. What if Lila targeted her again? What if Bustier’s class started harassing her again? Or worse. What if Lila turned her new class against her?

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

Damian had grown quite close with Marinette over the last several months. They had even begun dating, much to Gotham’s collective surprise. He had learned almost everything there was to know about Marinette and loved her quirky personality. So, when Marinette grew quiet and nervous like she had been when she first arrived in Gotham, Damian quickly noticed the change in her behavior. Marinette changed almost immediately after her latest video call with her friends. He tried talking to her, to try and fix whatever was wrong. But she would just say “I’m fine.” and walk away, trying to handle everything herself. She didn’t want to bother Damian with her drama. But Damian wasn’t going to give up, he was going to help his angel with whatever was bothering her.

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

He also had contact information for Adrien and Chloe so he reached out to the two, trying to figure out what had changed during that video call. That is when he found out about the visiting Parisian class. He instantly knew what Marinette was worried about. She must be worried about the liar making people hate her again. As much as he wished that she wouldn’t worry about it and trust that her friends here would have her back, he couldn’t expect that after what happened in Paris. Of course she would still be worried about it. But Damian was going to make sure that not only did the liar not mess anything up here, he was also going to keep that horrible class as far from his angel as he could.

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

He only had about a week to get things in place, but that was enough for Damian. He gathered the class together one morning, when Marinette was out of the classroom. He told them everything he knew about the Parisian class and what they had done to Marinette. Needless to say, Marinette’s new class despised the Parisians before they even arrived. They couldn’t believe everything they had done to Marinette, but they were determined to protect their friend for the whole week. And to try and destroy the liar that had hurt her. They had no idea what kind of lies to expect from this Lila girl, but they knew she must be a gifted liar to make anyone think that Marinette is a bully.

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

Bustier’s class had arrived and Lila wasted no time trying to impress the Gotham class. She went on and on about her usual stories, while also adding in some new Gotham centric ones. Like how she had helped Batman several times, and how she is very close with the Waynes, practically dating Damian. But then immediately contradicted that by claiming that she was dating Adrien Agreste, completely ignoring when Adrien denied it in front of everyone. Mrs. Bustier’s class ate it all up, as usual. But the Gotham class just stood in shock. This girl was a terrible liar. How did this other class believe a word she said?

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

But Marinette’s worries were partially realized fairly quickly. Once Mrs. Bustier’s class saw her sitting in the classroom, they started in on her. Lila tried to cry about how Marinette had bullied her and the rest of Mrs. Bustier’s class started yelling at Marinette. The young designer started to shrink into herself, until she noticed that none of her new classmates seemed to buy it. They were all glaring at Mrs. Bustier’s class and circling around Marinette to shield her from her old class.

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Mrs. Bustier’s class finally noticed that the Gotham class was shielding Marinette and glaring at them. Alya became infuriated that they were standing in the way of them defending Lila. “Why are you protecting her?! She is nothing more than a bully! She bullied Lila horribly when she was in Paris, you have no idea what she did!” Lila pulled out the fake tears and cried some sob story about all the horrible things Marinette had done to her, expecting that when she peaked out from her hands after, this new class would now turn against Marinette and be glaring at her. But when she did look, this class didn’t look impressed. They were still glaring at her, some even rolling their eyes.

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Lila, after seeing this, quickly turned back to her class, realizing that this Gotham class wouldn’t be easily swayed. “They don’t believe me! I’m just trying to warn them!” The Parisian class consoled their crying friend, while Alya stepped forward to defend her friend. “How could you keep protecting that monster?! She bullied my best friend and is a horrible person!” The Gotham class collectively rolled their eyes, before Damian stepped forward, having heard enough. “We are still protecting her because unlike you, we don’t turn on our friends on the word of a liar.” Lila wailed louder, trying to earn some sympathy, which just enraged Alya more. “How dare you! Lila isn’t a liar! Where is your proof that she is?!” Damian pulled out his iciest glare, making most of Mrs. Bustier’s class back away. “Where is your proof that she is telling the truth? Regardless, I know she is a liar. Marinette is the sweetest girl I have ever met, a literal angel. There is no way she would bully anyone. Besides that, I know that the liar’s stories about the Wayne family are completely made up.” Lila whips around, forgetting that she is supposed to be upset, angered that this boy had called out her best lies in front of this new class. “And how do you know that huh?! Not like you would know the Waynes. I will get my Damian down here and he will make you regret calling me a liar.”

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The Gotham class couldn’t hold it in anymore. They all started howling with laughter at the liar who didn’t realize what she just did. Even Marinette had started to smile. Lila shrieked, “What’s so funny?! Why are you all laughing?!” Damian stared coldly at Lila. “They are laughing cause you just said you are dating Damian Wayne and didn’t even recognize him standing in front of you. I am Damian Wayne, and I have never met you before.” Lila stood shocked, trying to think of anyway out of this. “W-well, I said we were practically dating. Besides, I am dating Adrien.” Adrien had had enough and pushed to the front to stand in front of Lila. “No you are not! I don’t like you. I have never liked you. Besides, I am dating someone else.” As if on que, which if you ask him he will deny that this was planned, Jon Kent burst through the door making a beeline for Adrien. “Sunshine! Finally came to see me again! Jon hugged Adrien tightly, while Mrs. Bustier’s class just stared in shock. They had really thought that Adrien and Lila were dating, but keeping it quiet so his dad didn’t find out. Or at least, that is what Lila had said. Slowly they began to realize that maybe just because Lila said so, doesn’t mean that it is true.

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The rest of the week was spent quietly. Lila kept trying to win over this new class, while also trying to win back favor with Mrs. Bustier’s class but that was a lost cause. Alya kept trying to defend her friend, refusing to acknowledge that she was a liar. The rest of Mrs. Bustier’s class did finally see the light though and apologized to Marinette. Marinette did forgive them, but they still weren’t going to be friends again. The damage to the relationships was too much. The week at Gotham had ended for Mrs. Bustier’s class and they left. Things returned to normal for Marinette. She was surrounded by Damian and her new friends, who truly cared for her. She was the happiest she had been in ages, and was finally able to rid herself of the fear that Lila would ruin everything again. She felt safe and happy, and nothing was going to change that.

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

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I don’t really know if my experience was abusive or not…. My home life was kinda all over the place growing up. My mum was initially a single mom but got married and had another child when I was 7. I sorta got pushed to the side at that point. My mum was busy with my younger sister and step-dad worked in camps for weeks on and weeks off, but even then I never really liked him that much. I learned how to get my own food, tuck myself into bed, entertain myself very quickly. I have a fear of showing pain or injury now because when I got hurt when I was younger I was often scolded and made to feel it was my fault. Got bit by the dog? Well what was I doing!? I shouldn’t have done that!! My little sister had an ear infection and was scolded (ie yelled at) because she didn’t say anything earlier and it was the weekend now and they can’t do anything about it (walk in clinics closed).

Growing up, my mother was always very strict about friends and play dates because they were apparently a lot of work. A friend would ask if I could come over after school and I would be so terrified to ask my mother I would near cry. I would ask and get scolded because “we don’t have time for that” or it’s “too last minute.” And I was always a very quiet child so I never pushed back, I just gave in and told her she was right.

When I expressed anxieties, or that I was really stressed and it was making me feel unwell, it was often ignored or flipped so that it was something I was doing wrong. And maybe they were right?

I would say I’m scared to do something or that something stresses me out and my step father would tell me to get over it because it’s life. When I had to change my diet for health reasons, he would say he checked packages that they were okay, but he didn’t and then I would feel unwell, and he wouldn’t believe me.

Basically, my parents were either not existing in my life, yelling at me for being hurt or being mad because something was going to cost money (and making me feel reallllyyyyy bad about it which has resulted in it being very hard for me to ask for things I needed), my parents also argue a lot, which always seriously stressed me out. Also a lot a lot a lot of shame about wasting from my step dad which has now led to me feeling sick to my stomach everytime something is slightly wasted, thrown out or not recycled.

But at the same time, as I got older I got Kinda closer to my mum?? But she was still very strict on friends and I knew that if I let her know most things that she would be mad, even though I was a textbook student. All this also paired with my grandmother’s constant dieting and telling me that I put on weight.., and patting my stomach. And then apologizing. And then when I try on clothes telling me I’m too too heavy… idk. I present a LOT of trauma symptoms, but I have lived a relatively blessed childhood.

Also probably important to note that I am suspected OCD or other anxiety disorder but undiagnosed.

Thank you for your blog and your time, both are incredibly helpful and I am very grateful.

That's really heartbreaking neglect, they couldn't even comfort you when you were in pain or injured, and you had to figure out everything yourself, like you had no parents at all. Yelling at children for being sick and injured is like kicking down someone who is asking you for help, it's despicable. I'm so sorry, that is absolutely abuse, and a serious case of neglect.

You were demanded to be a convenience and as little work as possible, to a great price for your childhood, you can't have a kid and then ask them to 'not be a lot of work' for you! It's not called work, it's raising your own kid! Besides, what kind of 'work' is a friend coming over, you have to say hi and maybe offer a snack? What kind of person considers that too much for their child's friendships?

Your parents are not right to blame and shame you for your anxiety and stress, they were supposed to help you feel better, comfort and reassure you, not make you feel worse and force you to doubt whether you're allowed to feel your feelings at all.

I'm so sorry for all they put you thru. It makes complete sense your stomach feels sick, that is so much violation and hate directed at you. You're more important than food. You're more important than your weight or whatever else they tried to make you feel horrible about. These people don't know you and have no right to comment on anything on you. They already hurt you enough.

I hope you get diagnosed and your struggles get a bit easier once you're sure of it and find more people you can relate to. Your childhood isn't blessed, it's already tainted with so much abuse, neglect, violation and hate, you have actual trauma symptoms. Trauma isn't a small issue that can be brushed aside. Your story is painful and it's not fair for you to have to live thru that.

And also, thank you for the kind words, I appreciate them.

#ask #furiousgoldfish #neglect #abuse #victim shaming #berating victims #child abuse #mental illness #this is the last ask #all are answered now

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closedmadness · 3 years

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

summary: maybe all of the things you’ve gone through was just challenges that prepared you for a better life — you started thinking that way after sweet pea literally saved your life and made it even better. part 2 of heartbreak

pairings: sweet pea x male reader

warnings → swearing・fluff・serpent initiation・light verbal fight

a/n: since part 1 ended in heartbreak (which the title is) this one will not be. I didn’t know you guys are gonna love that one thank you for your comments🥺 check out the navigation in my profile for tagging system!

Tag: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @wizard-of-yeet @akwardpikachu

“i won!” you yelled over sweet pea’s groans of defeat, jumping up and down happily as toni and fangs snickered from their place.

you’re currently playing pool with sweet pea at the serpents bar and spending your time with them. you should actually be at school in this hours, but you skipped them with a permission from your father and hang out your friends instead.

after it was revealed that your father is the serpent king, you slept at sweet pea’s trailer with meeting him in your mind. at first you didn’t know if he remembers you or even think about you, but they told you he has been telling the serpents about his son that he regrettably left alone.

you could still remember the first meeting with him.

“he talked about you a lot, (y/n).” sweet pea said, his expression soft as he looked at you.

a genuine surprise appeared on your face and you raised your brows, “he did?” sweet pea nods in confirmation. you looked down, not having expected that your father still remembered you.

you were pretty sure in your entire life that he would’ve forgotten about you, moved on with his life and started a new family. being told he has been regretting his decision and telling his serpents about his son was totally not what you expected. your mother pretty much made sure you knew that you don’t matter, that your father was so sick with the idea of having you, so you don’t know how to react after knowing that he cared about you all along.

“he’s still looking for his son.” toni told, catching your attention. “he told us he went to get his son, but wasn’t able to because his wife never allowed.”

you looked down; it was making you emotional realizing your father cared about you all this time. “sweet pea...” you called, pulling on the sleeve of his leather jacket. “take me to my father.”

sweet pea didn’t have to be told twice. he pulled you with him and exited the trailer — accompanied by his two friends — entering the whyte wyrm. there were serpents everywhere, but sweet pea paid no attention to them and swiftly pushed pass them, making sure none would pick a fight with you by holding your hand, toni and fangs keeping you close with them, following behind you.

all four of you reached the very end side of the bar and your eyes caught the sight of a dominant looking man in the center — probably in the age of 30 or 40 — sitting on a chair with few other old serpents surrounding him.

“(f/n).” sweet pea caught his attention, standing in front of him.

“what’s up, sweet pea?” his rough voice asked, averting his eyes from the serpents around him to the boy. the said male didn’t say anything, instead just moved out of the way to reveal you.

the older man, who you assume your father by what sweet pea called him, looked at you and instantly froze in his place. many emotions swirled in his eyes and expression as he looked at your face, then at your whole body, like he couldn’t believe if what he was seeing is real. he almost don’t believe it. so he slowly stood up from the chair and walked over to you, step by step carefully, as if afraid you would disappear from his sight.

you looked up at him and slightly shrunk as he was tall and practically towered over you. the two friends encouraged you by patting your back, sweet pea just squeezing your hand before going over to the side to watch the whole scene.

“(y-y/n)...?” he stuttered your name as he slowly lifted his hands, afraid that you might not have been his son that he always looked for.

you slightly flinched, but stayed in your place, knowing your father is different from your mother. “dad?” your voice called him weakly, as if you were afraid he’s not your father. before you could process anything, he pulled you in a warm and tight embrace, a light sob leaving his lips.

all the serpents present in the bar stopped what they were doing after hearing their leader’s sob to see him holding you tightly, and they focused their attention on you two.

you hugged him back before breaking down suddenly, tears escaping your eyes from the relief of finding your father and a sob leaving your lips, turning into a quiet cry of anguish afterwards. everyone who heard your quiet cries felt their heart clench at how broken you sounded, but they also heard a cry of relief in it, and they couldn’t help but frown in sadness at the reunion happening in front of them.

your hold tightens around him and he realized just then that you’re afraid he might leave you again. “i won’t leave you again, son. i promise. from the bottom of my heart.” he told you firmly as he tightened his embrace on you as well.

after you calmed down from your break down, a chuckle left your lips as you pulled away from his warm embrace to look at his face. “i missed you, dad. i- i thought you forgot about me.” you sniffled.

he wiped your tears and gave you a sad smile. “i missed you too, (y/n). i forgot about your mother, but never you. i always thought of you and regretted not taking you with me, even if it means you’re gonna have to live as a serpent.”

you sniffled, “i would rather live as a serpent than with her. it’s been really awful, she never went to rehab and continued doing drugs. she rarely ever gets home and when she does, all she do is hit me and complain about my existence. it’s really exhausting, dad.”

your father’s expression darkened at that as toni, fangs and sweet pea all winced. you furrowed your brows and looked at them quizzically after hearing their winces, only to receive a shake of head from them. they knew how (f/n) is when a family of his gets hurt, whether it’s a serpent or a real family member, and you telling him about your horrible mother made them already know what she will go through.

though, before that, (f/n) pulled you in an embrace again. “you will never have to go back to her again, (y/n). i’ll take care of her. of course, only if you want to.”

“sure, dad. only if you promise to make up for the lost times.”

he smiled happily, “i definitely will.”

you smiled at the memory and looked at sweet pea, who was pouting due to his defeat. if it weren’t for him saving you, you wouldn’t have met your father. you won’t admit out loud how thankful you are, though.

“(y/n)~” your father’s cooing voice called and you turned your head, only to have him crash you in a tight embrace. you chuckled at him and hugged back, enjoying and loving how he shows you his love with just little gestures.

sweet Pea, toni and fangs watched from the side, the raven haired boy smiling at how happy you looked in the arms of your father. toni saw his loving gaze and nudged him, “you’re making heart eyes to him again, sweets.” she teased, making fangs snicker.

sweet pea rolled his eyes, “yeah, whatever.”

“dude, we’ve only known him for like, three weeks and you’re already head over heels in love with him.” fangs deadpanned, grinning widely.

“can you blame me?” sweet pea snapped, returning his gaze on you laughing with your father. “he’s so precious, like, he isn’t like any other northsiders we encountered.”

“and he’s hot.” toni added, making him glare at her but nod in agreement nonetheless.

“isn’t this his fourth time skipping school to hang out with us, though?” fangs asked realizing.

“he only go to school if he feels like it. (f/n) gives him permission to skip and whenever he doesn’t give him permission, he goes to school.” sweet pea answered with a shrug, not really bothered by the fact that you skip school just to hang out with them.

he was rather happy that you’re choosing to be with them instead of your friends at northside. it just proved to him that even a northsider like you can choose the southsiders. besides, this way he could easily make efforts for you to date him.

you went back to sweet pea with a pout after a talk with your father. “pea~” your whine filled his ears and he quickly turned as you dive into his arms. “dad said i should go to school more instead of hanging out with you guys here.” you pouted, looking up at him.

his eyes lingered longer at your pouty lips before moving his gaze up to meet yours. “i think your dad is right, (y/n). we’re really happy that you’d rather hang out with us than your friends at northside, but you don’t go to school for nothing.” he softly said, stroking your hair.

you nuzzled your face into his chest, enjoying the way his hand stroked your hair gently. “yeah... if you say so, pea.”

“we agree with him, but thanks for asking, (y/n).” toni jokingly said and laughed, earning a snicker from fangs and a muffled apology from you.

“but didn’t your dad say something else?” fangs asked and toni nudged him strongly with her elbow, making the former wince in pain and rub the spot above his hip.

you stayed silent for a moment, but spoke nonetheless. “he asked me if i want to be a serpent.”

sweet pea gently cupped your cheek with one hand and raised your face up. “well, what did you answer him?”

“i told him i want to, and that i will participate in the initiation instead of being pardoned just because i’m his son.” you stated and closed your eyes, placing a hand just above his. “it would be unfair for me to join the serpents without doing the initiation you all have gone through.”

their hearts warmed up at your words and a satisfied smile made its way upon sweet pea’s face. “are you sure, baby? joining us have a lot of consequences.”

you smiled at the nickname. you and sweet pea had a lot going on, both of you acted like a couple but never really asked out each other. “i don’t really care as long as i have you, fangs and toni.” you said making sweet pea chuckle, while toni aweed and fangs swooned. you were so sweet.

the four of you began to play pool once again with the serpent’s initiation in your mind.

tomorrow, you’re gonna be one of the southside serpents your father leads and you couldn’t be any more happier.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Veronica greeted you as all the corefour entered the student lounge.

You smiled and nodded at her, greeting back. “Hey, Roni.” Your eyes then darted back to your phone that you were holding, sending a text back to Sweet Pea.

As Veronica, Archie and Kevin sat on the couches, Betty and Jughead looked at each other and frowned before sitting down as well.

It has been four weeks since the extreme heartbreak and meeting the Serpents. You’ve been less hanging out with the corefour, but only when Betty and Jughead would tag along for a double date. If it isn’t a double date, you would hang out with them but pay little attention to the couple. Kevin, Archie and Veronica noticed you distancing yourself from the couple, but didn’t say anything because they knew how you felt about the news. Though, they were thankful you’re not ignoring them. They wouldn’t have handled it if you did, since you’re a kind of person who smiles at everyone and gives them attention even a little bit.

“(Y/n).” Jughead called and the three you considered as your best friends stopped their conversation to listen.

“Hmm?” You just hummed in response, raising your brows and eyes still facing the phone screen.

“What’s happening to you? The days you don’t come to school are increasing more and more.”

You rolled your eyes mentally. So now he notice. “I’ll come to school from now on, don’t you worry.” You replied with gaze still on your phone screen. “And it’s none of your business.” You added.

All of them snapped their gaze to you surprised. You never talked to anyone like that, let alone Jughead, your best friend since childhood. Well, to you he’s no longer your best friend.

“What’s up with you? You know I notice that you’re ignoring me and Betty.”

“You only notice things that are convenient to you.” Your neutral and void of emotion strung a core into his heart. It sounded so dead, like you no longer had a heart to him.

Jughead and Betty looked at you in disbelief, while the others exchanged a uneasy glance. They knew something was wrong with you, and Veronica isn’t stupid to know you no longer had a thing for Jughead, but this was not what they expected to hear from you. Clearly, you moved on.

The beanie wearing boy shakes himself out of shock and frowns. “Did I do something wrong to you?”

You looked up from your phone and his breath caught up in his throat; your face was void of all emotion. “No.” That was your only answer as you looked back at your phone.

Jughead’s frown deepened as he and Betty made an eye contact. What is wrong with you?

Today is the day of your serpent initiation.

You were feeling nervous, constantly fidgeting with your fingers and lips pouting. Your fidgeting fingers were interrupted by Sweet Pea, who took a hold of your hand after noticing you were nervous.

“You’ll do great, (Y/n). I know it. You’re strong.” He comforts with a small smile on his face.

You smiled at him, relief and calmness washing over you at his warmth. “Thanks, Pea. It really means a lot.” You said and squeezed his hand.

A comfortable silence fell on the two of you as the time of your initiation slowly comes. Sweet Pea wondered what to say in this situation — you’re going to have the initiation in a few minutes and he hasn’t told you anything encouraging yet. He was worried about you.

“Hey, uh... (Y/n)?” Sweet Pea called your name, rather nervously. You looked at him questioningly. “After your initiation, do you want to go to Pop’s together? I mean, like a date?” His tone was filled with fear of rejection.

He knew that you were in love with Jughead and didn’t want to do something that will make you remember what you had to go through while being in love with him. This is his first time having someone who cares for him deeply as he does for them, so he didn’t want to ruin whatever you two had. Asking you out on a date is the hardest thing to do, specially since you’re his best friend.

A look of surprise coated your face at first, making him prepare himself for the rejection, but what you said next surprised him. “Sure, Sweet Pea. I was wondering when you’d ask.” You giggled, a damn laugh that he always loves to hear.

Relief washes over him as he sighed, a happy smile making its way onto his lips for a moment before it was replaced by a smirk. “So you were waiting for me to ask you out, huh?” He teasingly said, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You grinned.

Sweet Pea chuckles and pulls you closer, cupping your cheek with his free hand as he leans in to give you a short, but sweet kiss. A laugh escaped both of your lips while still maintaining a very close distance, your noses touching and lips barely.

Someone clearing their throat interrupted your sweet moment and you turned to see your dad standing there giving Sweet Pea a look. Instantly, Sweet Pea let go of you and straightened himself. You laughed, noticing his nervousness upon getting caught by your father.

Your father gave Sweet Pea a look that says ‘we will talk about this’ before turning to you. “Son, it’s time for your initiation. Are you sure you can do this?” His concern made you smile.

“I’m good, dad. Thanks for worrying about me.”

Just like that, the three of you went outside where your initiation will be held. Luckily for the both of you, Sweet Pea wasn’t allowed to join in the initiation since he and your dad will be having a conversation. It’s an order from your dad that no one can say against.

As the initiation started, Sweet Pea stood at the side worriedly together with your father, who was looking at him rather than you. He could hear the sound of a fist colliding with your face and he didn’t want to see his son going through the initiation.

“Do you really love him?” (F/n) suddenly asked Sweet Pea, causing him to avert his eyes from you to him.

The raven haired boy nodded without hesitation, “I do. Very much. Whenever I’m around him, I get this feeling that I should protect him. You know how selfless he can get.” He stated, turning back to see you getting punched again, but standing back up nonetheless.

Sweet Pea knew how strong you are. You wouldn’t back down easily, and maybe that is why he didn’t stop you from going through the initiation even when it was painful for him to watch you getting hurt.

(F/n) nods, a whole part of him agreeing to Sweet Pea that you can be really selfless at times. He could remember the time his heart broke when he saw you still caring for your mother even after everything you’ve gone through with her.

“He really is selfless. But he won’t back down without a fight, I know that. He could beat up anyone in the Serpents if he wants to. They wouldn’t stand a chance against him.” (F/n) laughed proudly.

Sweet Pea chuckled, “I agree. He’s kinda scary when he’s mad.”

They both turned back to the initiation, only to find you still standing even after all the punches were thrown. You stood your ground, fists clenched on your sides, blood running down your face and soaking your shirt. The last punch was from a serpent who had a brass knuckle and getting punched by him hurt a lot, but you didn’t give up and still stood. A cheer of happiness came from the Serpents after the initiation was finished.

Sweet Pea’s smile was huge as he rushed over to you, gently cupping your face with his hands. “You did it, baby. You did it.” He cheered, causing a small smile to appear on your face.

He was quick to lead you inside to treat your wounds, Toni and Fangs already waiting there. “You did it! You fucking did it!!” They both cheered, jumping up and down making you chuckle.

Sweet Pea starts to tend to you, treating the wounds on your face as gently as possible with the first aid kit. “You still have one initiation left, so until then I’ll make sure you’re healed.”

“And then a date after that initiation.” You added, making him smile and nod.

Toni and Fangs gaped at your conversation. “Hold on! You’re going on a date?” Fangs asked. You and Sweet Pea didn't answer him, just looked at each other and grinned. That was an enough answer for them.

“Finally! Took you two so long.” Toni grinned teasingly, causing you and Sweet Pea to roll your eyes.

Your father entered with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him have, holding a new serpent jacket as he approached you with open arms. “(Y/n), son, you made it!” He hugged you tightly and you hugged back, feeling safe and secure in his arms. He pulled away to give you the leather jacket and you took it, wearing it and smiling proudly at yourself.

Everyone cheered and congratulated you, including Jughead’s father FP Jones. “(Y/n), congratulations!” He gave you a short hug, to which you returned.

Despite what his son did, you never blamed FP and became friends with him. You didn’t take your anger towards Jughead on him simply because it wasn’t his fault. He’s just Jughead’s father. You like him as a person and as your older friend, what Jughead did doesn’t matter anymore.

“How does it feel to be an official member of the serpents?”

“Amazing.” You answered with a big smile.

FP smiles and nods his head, but then frowned after remembering his son. You told him about what happened between you and Jughead, he felt sorry for what his son did to you. He just feels glad that you seem fine now. “Uh... (Y/n), you want me to tell Jug about you joining the serpents?”

The mention of Jughead’s name no longer affected you, and FP showed a small smile when he noticed you didn’t even flinch at the sound of his name. “No, he doesn’t need to know. It’s not his business.” You replied.

FP nods and was about to walk away when Sweet Pea appeared behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “Babe, can’t you just skip the last initiation? We could just go to our date.” Sweet Pea whined.

You chuckle, “No can do, Sweets. I have to finish the entire initiation.” You turned around to face him while he still hugged you. “Can you wait for a little bit longer?” You asked while grabbing his face, but he went past your hands and nuzzled his face on your neck.

“I’ll try.” He managed to tell you, his voice muffled. You giggle and pet his hair, to which he whined approvingly.

FP blinked at the sight of them, shocked at the way they act. He always felt there was something between you and Sweet Pea since you two did a lot of PDA sometimes, but this was new since you always only held hands or hugged. FP turned to (F/n) quizzically as Toni and Fangs giggled at his reaction. “Oh, apparently, they’re together.” (F/n) said with a shrug, no longer bothered that his son is being touched by Sweet Pea.

“Since when?” FP asked.

“Before the Initiation.” You and Sweet Pea answered simultaneously without looking at him. FP gaped which caused Toni and Fangs to burst into laughter, holding their stomach as tears appears on their eyes from laughing too hard.

After a while, FP got over the shock and smiled. “Glad to know you moved on, (Y/n). You don’t deserve all the pain my son caused you.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t deserve my precious baby.” Sweet Pea stated possessively.

(F/n) whisled, “Possessive much of my boy, Pea?” That caused a laughter to erupt in the Whyte Wyrm, making Sweet Pea grumble and tighten his hold around you.

You smiled happily; at first, you wanted to end your miserable life to get an eternal peace. Your life only consisted of heart break and pain that you thought you were beyond saving. But Sweet Pea showed up and everything became better. He gave you a new life, a much more better life that you’ll always be thankful for. He did so much for you and you plan on doing the same thing.

“Sweet Pea?” You softly called, turning your head to look at him.

“Hmm?” He hummed with his eyes closed just enjoying your presence in his arms.

“Thank you. I love you.” Sweet Pea opened his eyes at that, a grin taking over his lips as his eyes sparkled in joy. If it’s possible, he would ask you to tell him that three words everyday.

“I love you too, (Y/n).” He replied, giving you a kiss.

Toni made a face, “Get a room!”

Okay, so going to school wearing your own Serpent jacket probably wasn’t the greatest idea. Wherever you go, everyone stared at you and giving you dirty looks, as if you’ve done the most shittiest thing. You could only careless though.

“Hey, guys.” You greeted the corefour plus Kevin after entering the student lounge and dropped on the couch, beside Veronica. They gaped at the sight of your jacket, emotions swirling in their eyes. You swore you could see a disgusted look in Betty and Jughead’s faces, but all you needed was Veronica, Archie and Kevin’s reactions.

“Oh my god.” Veronica breathes out and pushes your shoulder gently to look at the logo on your back. “Whose jacket is this? Is this yours?” She asked, but there was no hint of distaste in her tone.

“Yeah, I just joined them yesterday.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Archie raised his brows, “Is that why you have some injury on your face?”

“Yep.” You replied. Their reaction was totally amusing, except for Betty and Jughead’s. They look at you like you’re the most disgusting person in the world. Eh, not my problem. You thought as you pulled out your phone.

Someone snatched your phone and you looked up to see Jughead standing, glaring at you. “So this was why you’ve been avoiding and ignoring us. Because you were planning on joining that gang.” He spat in anger. Betty stood beside him with a glare as well.

You just raised your brows at him, uninterested in whatever drama he’s trying to cause. “What the hell, (Y/n)!? Have you lost your mind? That gang doesn’t do anything right! They’re drug dealers, vicious people, living with violence!” He continued. The way he described them struck a core to you, something in the way he called them made something inside you snap.

You were up on your feet in an instant, gripping his collar and glaring at him dangerously. A gasp came from Veronica and Betty, but you ignored them and tightened your grip even more on Jughead’s collar. “Listen here, Jones. You don’t know anything about them and you have no right to judge what they do for living. They’re people — an actual, decent people who cares for a stranger. Not a drug dealer, not a violence freak, they’re humans. And say one more fucking thing about them, I won’t hesitate to give you what you deserve.” You threatened while showing your fist.

“(Y/n)... Jug probably deserves it, but slow down.” Archie says from behind you, confusing Jughead as he looked at Archie then back at you.

Hearing the ginger’s words, you reluctantly let go of Jughead’s collar with a glare still plastered on your eyes. “You know nothing, Jones. You don’t even know anything about what happened to me this past few weeks.” You spat. Hatred completely plastered your face as you moved your glare towards Betty, who flinched in surprise at how scary and intimidating you looked. The disgusted expression no longer visible on her face.

Jughead frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“See? You know nothing.” You said mockingly. “That day you informed me you and Cooper started dating was the day I was planning to die.” You admitted and they looked at you in shock, mouth opening slightly. “My mother always abused me, physically and mentally. Hell, even emotionally. And every time I tried to tell you, you ignored me and shrugged my problems off because it wasn’t ‘important’ to you. Cooper has always been your first priority, wasn’t she? That’s why you chose to abandon me when I needed you the most. I needed your help, but you ignored everything and went on and on about this girl.”

Jughead opened his mouth to come up with an excuse, but you quickly shut it down. “No excuse would be enough to explain what you did. Now, I’m just giving you the taste of your own medicine. I don’t want to see your face ever again because every time I do, I get the flashbacks of what happened. You were with a girl having the time of your life while I was suffering at the hands of my mother.” You glared at the couple with disgust. “I’m in disbelief that you even consider me as a friend, because I don’t anymore.”

The harshness of your words seemed to wake up something in Jughead as his breath trembled, feeling his eyes burn as tears starts to gather. “What- how would that explain why you joined them?” He stuttered, the disgusted look in your face making him lose any hope.

“They saved me from all the misery.” You felt a single tear roll down your cheek. “They gave me a home. I was able to start over because they were with me every step of the way. They taught me the importance of my life and loved me, cared for me more than anyone ever did. More than you did, more than my mother did. I joined them because they’re my home, and to prove that I don’t need you.” You stated coldly.

Somehow, for some reason, everyone heard Jughead’s heart breaking. The devastation on his face was enough for them to know he cared about you all along, but didn’t do enough to show it. Painful thing, though, is that you don’t care for him anymore. Your cold words and gaze told them you really had enough of him.

Veronica stands up and places her hand on your back. “(Y/n), come on. Let’s go. He’s not worth it.”

You stayed silent for a second before replying, “You’re right. They’re not worth it. He didn’t need me in his life — obviously I don’t need him in my life too. Just wanted him to know that.” You said calmly and walked away together with Veronica, leaving the others alone.

“You didn’t tell him about the heartbreak he caused you.” Veronica stated once you two were out of the lounge.

You scoffed, “He doesn’t need to know. Besides, my heartbreak doesn’t matter anymore.” Curiosity sparked in Veronica as you said that with small smile on your lips.

“Ohh.” She smirks, “Who’s the guy?” She asked teasingly which made you laugh. Veronica never failed to be your friend — she’s accepting and kind, sometimes a bitch, but that’s who she is. You’re sure she’ll always be your friend.

“He’s the one who found me contemplating my life.” You smiled at the memory. “He looks tough and scary, but he’s such a sweetheart. Cares for me the most, treats me right and gives me the love he claims I deserve.” Your face softens as you tell her about Sweet Pea, like you weren’t angry just a few moments ago.

Veronica stared at you as you talked; she could see the change. Your eyes spark more now and had a life of joy, even happiness. It had enough light. Your face seems a lot brighter and happier, no sign of heartbreak in sight. You looked as if you didn’t go through that extreme heartbreak and misery while living with your mother. You look healthier and more joyful, your smile now reached your eyes. She felt relieved — the Serpents seems to be the ones who changed you for the better and she couldn’t be more happier. They may be a gang, but she knew they’re good people.

“You seem a lot happier now, (Y/n).” She said, smiling softly.

A smile appeared on your face. “I am, Roni. I really am. No lies, no hiding, genuinely.”

“It feels as if the heartbreak didn’t happen.” She comments and you chuckled in agreement. “I’m glad he’s treating you right. You have a new life now, I’m a little sad that you might forget about me, Kevin and Archie.” She jokes.

You frowned, “Hey. I’ll never forget any of you. That’s a promise.” You held out your pinky finger and she chuckled, intertwining it with her pinky finger as well to promise. Your phone dings as Sweet Pea’s name appeared on the screen with a text; ‘I will pick you up today. Don’t go anywhere.’

Veronica peeked, seeing what was written and smirked. “Oooh, that’s the dream boy.” You laughed with her and nodded, agreeing.

There’s no need in telling Jughead you already have a new love, or prove to him that you’re better without him. He’s gonna know that either way. Maybe sooner than later, but you don’t care about that as long as he wouldn’t get in between you and Sweet Pea. Now that you found a new genuine and real love, there’s no way you’ll let anyone tear you two apart.

“(Y/n)—”

“Stop it, Jones!” You shoved Jughead away as soon as his hand grabbed your arm after the school ended and glared at him. “I told you, I don’t want to do anything with you. Why is it hard for you to understand?”

“I want to make it up to you!” Jughead made a move again to touch you, but you quickly smacked his hands away.

“You can’t when I don’t want you to.” You spat and walked away, only for him to grab your arm again stronger this time. The other corefours and Kevin yelled for Jughead to just let you go, but he doesn’t listen.

Just as when you were about to punch him in the face, someone pulled you away from him and felt a warmth on your back. “Get the fuck away from him!” Sweet Pea shouted angrily at Jughead, embracing you with one arm and pointing at him.

People around the school whispered and gossiped to each other as Sweet Pea continued to glare at Jughead, while you start relaxing in his arms. “Sweet Pea,” They were surprised at the softness in your voice. “Let’s just go, he’s not worth it. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Baby, he was touching you without your consent.” Sweet Pea clenched his jaw, still glaring at Jughead.

A look of surprise flashed across their face, except for Veronica who already knew about Sweet Pea. You glanced at the beanie-wearing boy and shook your head, gently grabbing your boyfriend’s hand. “It’s okay. You came. If something happened, dad’s gonna take care of him.” You softly say, rubbing circles on his hand with your thumb.

Sweet Pea looks at you and his eyes immediately softened, looking down at your intertwined hands, then looking up at you before back at Jughead. “You touch him again and I’ll break your face.” He threatened and pulled you with him towards a car, Fangs and Tony inside of it.

After getting into the passenger seat, you waved at Veronica, Archie and Kevin to say goodbye as Sweet Pea pulled off of the parking lot.

“That’s him? Your ex best friend?” Toni asked as she pointed outside at Jughead, while Fangs stared at the boy. You nodded with a tired sigh, having enough of dealing with that ex best friend for today. “Yikes, Sweets is much better than him.” She grimaced and earned a laughter from Fangs.

“Much, much better.” You agreed and looked over at Sweet Pea, who also looked back at you before pecking you on the lips quickly. Grinning widely, you intertwined his hand with yours as he drove the car towards the Northside.

Entering the bar, you quickly made your way towards (F/n) and pulled him in a hug to which surprised him, but hugged back nonetheless. “What’s wrong, prince?” His gentle voice asked, stroking your back. You just shook your head and continued hugging him to let him know you appreciated everything about this new life.

“What happened, Sweet Pea?” Your father asked Sweet Pea next, who came in with Toni and Fangs after you rushed towards him.

The tall serpent sighs, “That Jones boy was bothering him in school. He was really annoyed.”

“Is that true, (Y/n)?” (F/n) pulled away from you to ask and you nodded your head. “Yeah, but I’m okay, dad. I know you’d kick his ass if he annoyed me more than he already did.” You joked, earning a chuckle from him.

After that, you pulled Sweet Pea to the side to have a talk with him. “Pea, thank you for everything. Really. And I want you to know that I’m not going away.”

That made him grin widely, pulling you in a hug as he nuzzled his face in your neck. “You don’t have to thank me, (Y/n). I’m not letting you go now that I have you.” You smiled, hugging him back and closing your eyes as you enjoyed his scent.

This is your new life; happier, brighter, lovelier new life that you’d do anything to keep. You’re happy and content now — there’s nothing else you would ask for. Everything you went through was painful, but perhaps it was just a step to your happiness and you felt glad that you managed to endure it.

Having Sweet Pea with you is enough — no heartbreak, no suffering, no sadness. Just love, happiness and contentment.

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imasimpforshanks · 3 years

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Heyyyyyy hiiiiii hope your having an awesome day drinking that water getting hydrated 😗. I was wondering if you could do a Law Angst alphabet please. But only if you feel up to it and have time. If you don’t feel free to ignore or do it later here now have a cookie 🍪 because your awesome 😊

Angst Alphabet - Trafalgar Law

a/n: HI HI!!! thank you for your kind words!! I hope you are looking after yourself <333 here is the law angst! Please enjoy 🥰

A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)

He would only blame himself if any of his actions led to the accident that caused your death (we’ve seen him blame himself for that very reason about Rosinantes death). If his actions weren’t directly correlated to your death in any way then he would not blame himself, though he would kick himself for not being able to help you in time. Other than that, Law is painfully aware of the harsh reality that is life.

B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)

Law would break up with you in a seemingly emotionless way. He’d mask his true feelings, while telling you a whole bunch of excuses why the two of you could no longer be together. He doesn’t believe any of them, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do.

C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)

I feel like I’ve used this one in a few other character alphabets but it really applies to Law too. He would cause you to stress and panic so much over his health and wellbeing. He’s a literal doctor. He should know to take better care of himself, but he just doesn’t seem to care about himself the same way you do. So it isn’t until you’re crying in front of him, spilling your heart out about how concerned you are for his safety that he realizes his health is important to more than just himself.

D-Death (how would they react to your death?)

My god, if Law was to lose another person that he loved, he literally would never want to let himself get close to anyone ever again. Your death would be it for Law. He’d basically be on the verge of giving up himself. What other reason does he have to go on.

E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)

He tries to hide every emotion. Law doesn’t like to be too open, out of fear of people using it against him or it simply being too much of a sign of weakness. So, very rarely does he let his emotions show. He also tries to divert attention away from himself in hopes that people won’t focus on him or his emotions for too long.

F-Fight (do you two ever fight? How big are the fights? What do you fight about? Etc.)

This was covered in his fluff alphabet! But here it is again:

Your fights tend to be pretty short lived resulting in forgiveness and apologies from both sides relatively quickly. He really doesn’t like to stay mad at you for too long – he’d much rather have you two on the same page.

Most fights are caused by stress and concerns of health and safety, so Law does a lot of eye rolling and using his title as a ‘doctor’ as justification that he knows what he’s doing so you just need to chill – but like I said these fights are very short lived.

G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)

Law will never forgive himself for Rosinantes death. He will forever feel responsible for his death – it was all his fault. If only he hadn’t given that note to Vergo, then Rosinante would still be alive. He died because of Law’s incompetence (at least that’s what he tells himself).

H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)

During a break-up Law would act pretty normal. He wouldn’t behave any differently until he’s left alone. Only then would he let himself go and truly feel that heartbreak.

I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?)

Thanks to the doctor in him, Law is able to remain calm. He can keep his composure until he administers whatever treatment necessary. That’s not to say he isn’t worried though. He’s just capable of focusing on the injury right in front of him.

Only once he is certain that you are stable does he (or potentially his crew) go and hunt down the cause of your beating.

J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)

When Law does get jealous (which is rarely), he gets quiet. His fists clench a little more, and his frown deepens. He also speaks less than usual (which is already pretty hard to beat). He only gives you short snippy replies until he eventually gets over it.

K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)

Law would kill for revenge, yes. He literally wanted to kill Doflamingo as revenge for Rosinante. However, it was in Law’s plan that Kaido would be the one to kill Doflamingo (after they fought) – so I believe that is how he’d kill for revenge as well. He would devise a fool proof plan (okay maybe not fool proof, bc if the straw hats are involved who knows what could go wrong).

In short, yes. Law would kill for revenge.

L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)

This poor man has suffered so much loss in his life that it’s actually really difficult to choose which would be his greatest loss. He lost his entire family as a young boy while also having a shortened lifespan himself. Losing his family, and the realization that he only had a few more years to live, really made him lose his will to live a good remainder of his life. Young Law literally became a pirate.

However, he did meet Rosinante (Corazon) and he gave him another reason to live. Furthermore, Rosinante actively sought out a cure for Law so that he could continue to live a long life. Basically, Rosinante became a father figure/older brother to Law. So, losing him – another ¬person he loved so dearly – would have been beyond devastating.

M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?)

There was one day where he spent the entire day ignoring you. It was completely unintentional. His mind was swarming with plans and all this other information that has just come in. He got so immersed in it that he didn’t talk to you or tell you what was going on for a whole day.

N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?)

Nightmares are one of the many reasons Law hardly ever sleeps. He’s haunted by his family’s and Rosinantes deaths. His nightmares get particularly bad around the same time each year (that is, around the time of year that they died). He wakes up trembling and on the verge of tears (but he never lets them fall). Instead of even trying to go back to sleep, he’ll make himself a nice hot cup of coffee and immerse himself in a book or work of some kind – anything to avoid going back to sleep and risking a re-run of that horrible nightmare.

O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)

Sometimes his exhaustion catches up to him and other times its all the stress building up that finally he snaps and all the emotions are too overwhelming that he just directs it to the nearest outlet, which just so happens to be you.

P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)

You walked in on him absolutely breaking down over Rosinante. One evening Law retreated to his room while you and the rest of the crew were eating and drinking. He didn’t think you had noticed him leave, but soon you were following after him. You opened the door and found him breaking down in the middle of the room. You completely forgot that it was the anniversary of Rosinantes death. It was the first time you had seen him this distraught and it broke your heart.

It really cemented into your brain that no matter how tough he may look, he still suffers (probably more so than anyone). But, you were also grateful that you were able to see him like that, as it allowed him to start relying on you a little more.

Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?)

His inability to openly express his emotions. Sure, now he will share with you how he is feeling, but that is with you and ONLY you. He still insists on keeping everything else bottle away from the rest of the world which is a really unhealthy way to deal with things. It’s not that you dislike being there for him, in fact, you appreciate how trusting he is with you. It’s just, what if there comes a time where you aren’t around and he’s in desperate need of someone to confide in?

R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around)).

Law would wait until he was 100% certain you returned his feelings to confess to you. So, if you were to reject his confession he would be really confused for a while. He’d let it go because well, everyone has their own reasons – its not his place to tell you how you feel. All he can do is tell you how he feels and then the rest is up to you.

S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)

He has no self-inflicted scars, and to my knowledge he has no battle scars either. But, his arm did get cut off and then reattached during the Dressrosa arc, so it actually is likely that there is a remaining scar from that (although I’m not certain).

T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?)

Nope not at all. In fact, the only instance in which he would possibly break your trust, or lie to you, about is when he went to Punk Hazard and sent his crew to Zou. Some would assume that he wouldn’t tell you his plan out of fear of your safety, but that’s not true. He had to tell you. You taught him to be open and honest, and to trust. So that’s exactly what he did.

U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)

Law has gotten so comfortable around you that whenever you aren’t there, he gets unbearably anxious. Your presence is soothing, even if he can’t see you, even if he can only hear your voice echoing throughout the Polar Tang, it’s enough to put his mind at ease. So, if you are separated for a while… oh boy does he want to see you badly.

V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?)

He tends to yell at you. He tells you to “piss off” and that “you’re only being a nuisance right now”, despite you only wanting to help him.

W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?)

Not being able to control things makes Law feel really weak. Weak may not be the right word, but it definitely makes him feel unprepared. He doesn’t like when things are out of his control and he can’t account for things. Which is usually why he always does extensive research and preparation before constructing a well thought out plan.

X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)

Well, I mean other than his obvious hatred of bread, Law also really hates when he works extremely hard on formulating a plan only for it to be completely thrown out of the window by a reckless straw hat wearing captain and his entire crew. (and somehow everything still ends up working out!!! That is the part that frustrates Law the most HAHAH).

Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)

One of the only things he’s ever really wanted was for Doflamingo to be taken down. He’s been partially successful in that sense, seeing as Doflamingo is in prison now. However, he wants more than that. He wants Doflamingo to suffer the same way he has.

Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)

It may seem a little out of character but… I believe Law would be borderline desperate/inconsolable. There would be a lot of clinging on to you, begging you not to leave him like everyone else he’s ever loved. He can’t handle another person leaving him, it’s too much. It’s far too much.

He wouldn’t cry (just yet), but his voice would tremble, and his hands would be shaking. His mind would be racing with all sorts of theories and possible ways he could save you. How could he possibly prevent the inevitable?

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d. water law #angst alphabet #one piece alphabet

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denimbex1986 · 3 months

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#45 Years #Charlotte Rampling #Andrew Haigh #All of Us Strangers #Andrew Scott #Paul Mescal #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #Always on My Mind #Pet Shop Boys #Strangers #Taichi Yamada

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pjm-com · 3 years

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unbound | m.

- a/n : a big thank you to @ksj-com for helping with the plot hehe

- pairing: kim taehyung x reader - genre: smut, forbidden love! au, slight angst - warnings: sex, cursing, fighting, boys being boys - word count: 11.4K - summary: years after being under the sharp eye of your brother, taehyung finally returns your feelings. of course, jungkook is wanting to protect you from another vicious heartbreak after yoongi, but taehyung will find a way to see you. with or without jungkook's permission.

“Fuck this date.”

You slammed the door shut, tears rolling down your face. You’re glad your parents went away on some kayaking trip, cause the entire house shook. You hang up your purse, not even stopping to look at the outfit you had just wasted. A simple spaghetti strap dress. You had curled your hair for once too, considering it was usually in a bun, or you just left it alone. Not to mention, you had to borrow makeup from a friend considering you rarely wore any.

To put it simply, this was a waste of your fucking time.

You stomped up the stairs towards your brother's room, knowing you’d be able to confide in him. It’s something he’s been doing heartbreak after heartbreak and it gets a little easier every time. His best friend Taehyung would always weigh in too when he could, and they always knew what to say. You’re afraid that this time, they’re gonna want to do more than give advice. If they didn’t kill him first, you’d be able to milk an apology out of the date.

Slamming the door, you sniffle loudly. “Sorry.. can I come to hang out?” Your voice sounded clogged from the drive home. Not one, but two pairs of eyes land on you. Jungkook nods in an instant, patting the open space on the bed. Taehyung’s eyes are glued on you out of pure shock, following you closely as you fall face-first into the bed. The warm palm of your brother's hand on the low of your back. For some reason, it makes you cry even harder.

God, you were pathetic. You haven’t cried over a boy in so long, but this one hurt a little more. You guess you figured that he had liked you, so maybe that’s why it was a little sore right now.

“What's wrong?” Jungkook’s soft voice rings through the room as their game goes on pause. He continues to rub your back in huge circles to calm your breathing while you find a stopping point to the sobbing. You pick up your head, wiping your eyes the best you could, laughing angrily.

“Sorry about your comforter…” Jungkook waves it off. “It's just— I get all dressed up in t-this, which we all know I don’t dress to impress. Then, Mr. Min fucking Yoongi shows up, fifteen minutes late might I add. He barely even looked at me all night.” The boys share a look that is quick, eyes wide.

“Kook, Don’t Namjoon and Hoseok know him?” Taehyung sounded surprised, while your brother nodded.

“Namjoon was who introduced them I think.”

You nod to both of them, playing with a loose string of Jungkook’s blanket. “Yeah, that and we have study hall together.. not that it matters anymore…” You trail off, upset. You were having a good time with him too, even if it was for a few class periods every week. You hated feeling this way, showing weakness in front of your brother and his friend. You couldn’t help it. Guys were assholes.

Shifting into a sitting position, you lean against your brother's shoulder. “Then, he was like ‘so when are we going to fuck’, and lewd stuff like that.. Like— like how do you just say something like that? I feel like an idiot,” You whined, tears falling freely again. You sniffled again as Jungkook brings you in for a hug.

Your brother groaned. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I went in there thinking he was interested in me. Not my body. It seemed like he only cared about sex. He even told me he had second thoughts coming, but… I can only assume he came in case he was gonna get laid.” Your voice dropped off as you let it out, crying into your hands. Boys were cruel and that was more than evident. Jeon Jungkook was horrible at many things. He couldn’t cook, he once swallowed a puzzle piece and got put on house arrest once. That being said, he’s still your brother and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. You have so many other options, he doesn’t even deserve your time.”

Taehyung seconds Jungkook’s words. “For real. You’re funny, you are talented at a lot of things… and I guess you aren’t that ugly.”

You snort softly as you look up from Jungkook’s arms, wiping your eyes while you three laugh. It’s the oldest cliche in the book, but hearing that from Taehyung makes your heart flutter. You continued to look at Taehyung for a bit, cheeks red as you looked at your own feet. You don’t know when you even started having a crush on the older male, but you hate it. As much as it pains you to say that. Jungkook made it crystal clear that he was off-limits, while Taehyung had made no effort to try and make a move. You left it dormant.

You smile. “Thanks, Tae.” You sigh, wiping your eyes for hopefully the last time. “Sorry for crashing, well— whatever this was.”

Jungkook shakes his head, tone firm. “We weren’t doing much of anything. Did you want to join us?”

You look over to his counterpart, the look on Taehyung’s face inviting as you decided. If you had another second alone with yourself, then you might as well just cry for the rest of the night. Nodding, you excuse yourself to change into some regular clothes and take a moment to wipe off your makeup. Your phone lights up, reading Min Yoongi. The infamous senior who everyone wanted to be with, despite being a nonchalant asshole.

He seemed genuine at first, he did. You wonder why you put yourself in these situations, but you can’t find an answer. At least not one you want to admit. Stepping back into your bother’s room with fresh sweatpants and a tight hoodie, you move towards the boys. Sitting on the bed, you pull Jungkook’s fuzzy blanket over your body and relax into the headboard.

The exhaustion stops you almost immediately, eyes closed as you slump against the pillow. Your mind washes away all the worries of a couple of hours before.

You dreamt about your future. Working a dull nine to five, a decent car, a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. Wasn’t ideal, but your husband in the dream was making everything with it. That being said, you couldn’t make out his face, the blonde blurry to your eyes. You enjoyed his company, or at least you did according to the last strings of your dreams.

You make quick work of getting ready, pulling on jeans and a hoodie considering the temperature had dropped today. Once ready, you brush your teeth and floss quickly before you grab your bag and make your way downstairs. You cursed to yourself as you barely had touched your homework. A nerve-eating parasite pinched the very core of your stomach, dragging yourself down into the kitchen with dread. Yoongi was the last person you had wanted to see. Unfortunately, you’d have to suck it up and face your day head-on.

You’re surprised to see Jungkook by himself at the island, choking on a bowl of Frosted Flakes as he dumped the plastic bowl into the sink, looking at you.

“Where’s thing two?” Not that you cared. Okay, you did, but you were curious. They went everywhere together and Taehyung was the last to wake up when he slept at your house. Your brunette brother shrugged, slipping into his vans and almost face planting as he did. He grabbed his keys, moving out the door with urgency. You deadpanned. “Stay up late?”

Jungkook snorted. “Yeah, till almost four. S’ crazy right? Trying to wake up Taehyung is like trying to wake up a cemetery. When I got up, he was gone. Maybe he went to school early?” You both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

“Yeah right,” you laugh as you lock your front door, trailing behind Jungkook to the car. “That knucklehead would never go to school early.. maybe had to shower or something.” You get into your brother's car, deciding you leave yours home for the day. You were coming straight home after school and nowhere else, and taking two vehicles to school was a little extra.

The ride to school was the same, Kook talking about whatever girl he was banging while you just watched the houses move by. You dreaded getting to school, but on the bright side, you wouldn’t have any distractions. You could get all your homework done for the weekend. You doubted Yoongi would even be there, considering all he did was sit in the bathroom and smoke weed.

You guess you kind of liked that, though. You lived a bit of a cookie-cutter life, and never had a taste of danger. Till you met Yoongi.

Finally, you were parked in the school lot. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Taehyung was jogging to you both. His brown eyes crazy and you couldn’t help but notice his knuckles were a bit red. Couldn’t blame him, considering it was the cold dry season.

The blonde fell into step with you and your brother, joining in on the regular morning banter. How Jungkook was a whore, and Taehyung was practically locked in a chatty belt. You thought it was sweet though. Taehyung didn’t have many girlfriends, and you thought it was refreshing how he took everything at his own pace.

“You guys are idiots,” you call, watching the twins wrestle as you open your locker. You shove some books in, only to take out the necessary ones as you wave goodbye to dumb and dumber. Taehyung smiles at you while he waves, and your return the action right back. The prettiest smile you had ever seen. It sounds gross to be gushing over someone who had grown up with you, but the childhood feelings were long gone. They grew up with you, less innocent than they were before. Not that you’d ever say anything.

Taking a seat, you set your books down on your usual table, the commons more crowded than usual. The bell rings and some kids scatter, but it was still heavy traffic in the heart of the school. Your stomach does flips into your fucking ass, almost dropping your headphones as half of the cafeteria watches with you.

Yoongi makes his way across the room, soft eye turned black. Chapped lip now split. It looked fresh too. Not a yesterday kind of bruise, it was more of a thirty-minute wound. He barely gave you time to process how close he was, but the tone was pitiful. Forced. Like someone was holding a gun to his head.

“I’m sorry.” It was dry and airy, but it was.. an apology? “I’m sorry for acting like an asshole. I'm not sure what got into me that night, but I shouldn’t have treated you like that. 's not right.” With that, without even waiting for an answer, he was gone. Anger filled your head to toe. You’re not even sure how it was possible. Who the hell had even beat him up? And was it related to your situation? You finish your homework, but with a clouded mind. So many questions and no answers. You figure it must’ve been Jungkook. Maybe that’s why he was so tired this morning.

You were gonna let him have it.

The rest of the day followed fast and suit as a Friday would. It had blurred by, probably due to the anger. You heated up even more as the car was unlocked, pushing your bag into the seat while Jungkook stared at you weirdly.

“The hell was that today?” The confusion is almost comical, eyebrows knitted as he starts the car. “Don’t act brand new. Yoongi came up to me this morning with his face practically smashed. He apologized to me.” Jugnkook laughed it off, turning on the car and backing out of the parking spot.

“Y/N, you give me too much credit. Mom would beat my ass if I beat someone else’s. Though, I do envy whoever did. Any other leads?” You shake your head as you sink back into the seat. This day felt too long. “I mean, we told Joon about it, but he’s cool Y/N you know him. Doubt he’d do anything so drastic.” You were at a dead end. The drive home was silent. You had no more energy for talking or doing anything else. It seemed so crazy.

You know what though? At least he apologized. Whether he meant it or not, he had to drag his sorry ass through the commons after getting it handed to him, and he had to apologize. You could take a decent nap on that note alone. Although, it still burns in the back of your skull that someone had done it for you. Or at least you thought.

You’re still unsure if the two were related.

“You want a sandwich?” Jungkook offers it up as you both enter the house, dropping your bag as you nod. You honestly forgot to eat today, hunger pangs banging on the wall of your gut. You sit at the island, opening a Gatorade as you watch Jungkook pull out the sub bread and the other fixings to the “world-famous” sub he made. Honestly, it was pretty damn good, and you could eat a whole one right about now.

“So.. you feeling better?” You sigh at the question, chin rested on your hand as you shrug.

You weren’t too sure. “I guess. I'm glad he apologized, but it still racks my mind. Why was he all banged up?” Jungkook halts a bit, before shrugging normally. Jungkook wanted to let the situation blow over, so he decided not to say anything. “Wasn’t you, wasn’t Namjoon, and it wasn’t Taehyung? So… I don't know. Who cares. Enough bout that asshole... What are your plans for tonight?”

Jungkook was glad you had dropped the topic. “The usual. I think the boys are gonna come over tonight if that’s okay with you? I don’t know if you wanted a quiet night or something, but. Jimin wants to play Mario Kart, and Hoseok is going to raid our fridge... You know the usual,” he laughed. But nothing more was said. You happily ate the sandwich, watching the brunette crack out his chemistry book to finish his homework before the boys came over.

You retreated to the bedroom, changing into some sweatpants and one of Jungkook’s old ratty hoodies. The moment your head hit your pillow, you were out like a light.

Honestly, when you woke up, you felt a thousand times better. Your body felt relaxed, you had finger marks on your cheeks. It was probably the best damn nap you’ve had in a while. You rub your eyes, not surprised to see a couple of snap chats from your friends considering you had been asleep for a couple of hours now. You’re almost tempted to go back to sleep before you hear faint yelling from downstairs.

You didn’t mind going to spend a little time with them, laughing as you see Jimin tackle Jin over the coffee table as the raven took first place again. Jimin was no match for the taller male, however, Jin pushing the brunette over the table and straight on his ass, laughing.

“Hey,” you said softly, grabbing a water bottle from the hallway stash, sitting on the edge of the counter.

“Y/N did you see that, Jin’s a cheater!” Jimin wailed throughout the house, making everyone roll their eyes.

Jin’s face only read malice. “Just like your last girlfriend.” The boys all winced at the comeback, laughing a little once they saw Jimin wasn’t phased. “Too soon?” The two start wrestling again, making you laugh. You move past the four-year-olds on the floor, pulling out a small bag of pretzels from the pantry. You open them, turning on your heel before you almost bump into Namjoon. He was a bit of a refresher. He was kind through and through, and always put everyone before himself. Even when your mother forced your brother to let you come with when you were younger, Namjoon always made sure you were included and cared for.

“Woah! Sorry,” you laugh, ready to move past but Namjoon blocks you.

You can read on his face that he’s a little guilty, but you’re not too sure what for. His mouth opens like he’s finding the words, before his lips purse again.

You laugh. “Namjoon, stop sweating. It’s okay, I’m okay.” Namjoon doesn’t buy it. He pulls you into a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head. He was really like an older brother to you, right under Jungkook.

“It’s not... I just. I don’t know. I feel— you never would’ve met him if it wasn’t for me. And I just—“ He cuts himself off. “No one should ever be told those things…” He sure sounded guilty. You did, however, accept the hug.

“Hey, seriously... It sucks, but it’s not your fault. I would never blame you for something like that. Seriously I mean it.” You smile up at the raven, and he finally smiles back. He’s relieved, but you had another thing to get off your chest. “Hey, speaking of him… did you happen to see who beat him up? When he apologized, he looked… busted,” You laugh, Namjoon follows suit.

Unfortunately, Joon shakes his head. “Nope.. figured Jungkook did that, but no. I wish I had an answer,” he shrugged, a frown on his features before Jungkook is calling you both over. You suppressed the curiosity, for now, wondering if you’d ever get an answer. You roll your eyes as your brother referred to you as stinky, laughing as you snatch the controller from Hoseok who was losing anyways.

“Let me show you guys how a real match is played.”

All the boys got their remotes ready. Honestly, you had fun playing the few rounds you did. You kept winning first place against Jimin who was definitely in the lead. You hand the controller, relaxing back into the huge couch. You’re surprised it's taken you this long to realize that Taehyung wasn’t even here. He was always over, so you wondered why he was missing right now. You pull out your phone, checking his location at his own house.

You decide to text him, phone screen tilted to Jungkook couldn’t see.

hey, loser. why aren’t you kicking everyone's ass on the wii?

You watch the text bubble start typing on the screen, and for a few good minutes, it’s going. You’re ready to see a keyboard smash or something considering it was taking a while for the text to send. Just like that, it’s gone. The hell? It wasn’t like Taehyung to not respond, or to take long at all. Something felt off, but you knew Jungkook’s rules. He would be curious as to why you were going over to his house.

“Hey kook, I’m gonna.. get some ice cream. You want any on the way back?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna go get food after this round. Check-in with me at eleven!” You rolled your eyes, slipping on your slippers as you said goodbye to the boys. Unlocking your car, you got in and pulled out of the driveway as soon as it was warmed up enough. It wasn’t a far drive to Taehyung’s house, only a couple of streets over from yours. You knew the route by heart, all the countless nights of you and your brother sneaking out of your house. You high-tailed it to the blue suburban at the end of the cul de sac, only to be dragged home by your mother.

When you finally arrive at the house, you park on the street noticing the house was pitch black. Save for the basement window, which was Taehyung’s window. You kill the engine, shutting the door quietly as you trek up to the front of the house. Tipping the potted fern out front, you grab the hidden spare key, unlocking the front door gently. You close it behind you, taking off your shoes as you sneak down to the basement, not wanting to wake his parents.

You tap the ‘man cave’ sign that the idiots painted for good luck; a tradition you all had. It doesn’t take long to spot Taehyung slouched against the headboard, hand in a chip bowl as you hear the opening credits of SpongeBob. Oh lord.

“Hey stranger,” you call softly, watching him mope around as he paused the show, sitting up.

His face showed that he seemed a little annoyed. “What do you want?” You’re thrown off by the tone, but you can tell he’s upset. Or that he’s in a mood, even though he quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry... I’m just. I got a lot on my mind.” Your eyebrows knit, looking at the expression. Whatever it was, it was kicking his ass.

“It’s okay,” You sigh, voice soft as you move to sit on the end of the bed. Taehyung is jumbling around words in his mouth, shrugging. He wants to avoid it, you can tell. He didn’t want to say whatever was obviously on the tip of his tongue, but it was going to eat him up one way or another. “Hey, the boys aren’t here.. Say what you need t—“

“I’m sorry, okay?” Your eyebrow raised at his words, but you didn’t even have to ask. “I’m sorry about Yoongi.”

You rolled your eyes. “God— what is it with you guys? You and Namjoon both. You don’t need to be sorry, he apologized. It sucks, but it’s over with.” You were starting to get a little irritated at how everyone was walking on eggshells around you. This wouldn’t be the first time your heart broke, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Taehyung groans like he’s at war with himself, leaning back into his bed.

“I was the one who beat him up… to get him to apologize.”

The silence that follows is deafening, your eyes wide at the words. Finally, you’re relieved that the whole ordeal is solved. But—

“Why?” You were grateful, truthfully. “What if you get in trouble?” Taehyung had a perfect record, and it wouldn’t sit right with you if he ruined it because of Yoongi. You weren’t going to lie, it did make your heart flutter a bit.

Taehyung sat up, eyes not meeting yours. “Cause, Y/N. I did it cause it's not fair. Yoongi shouldn’t get to walk around with a chip on his shoulder after saying what he did to you.” The blonde sighs, eyes finally looking up. “I pummeled him hard enough, I doubt he’d rat me out. I'm tired of seeing boy after boy come through and break your heart. It’s not fair to you.” Your cheeks burn at the words, sitting silently as you cross your arms. You couldn’t be mad at that, not when he was crusading for you.

“I'm surprised Jungkook didn’t rat me out. He knew… and he knows I like you.”

Now you’re super confused.

“Jungkook knew? That little shit,” you grumble. “I asked him. All-day I was trying to find out what the hell happened to Yoongi. But he knows you like me?” Taehyung nods, defeated as he holds one of his pillows against his chest. You have hit another dead end for maybe the fourth time today. It was unspoken between you two, but you already knew the deal. You can’t go after him. Even if you want to open that damn basement window and scream to the streets that he had finally liked you back.

“It doesn’t even matter,” he whined, eyes looking down at the floor now. “He doesn’t want to be in the middle or pick sides if we were to break up.” You nod, knowing that was Jungkook’s whole problem. It would be impossible for him to pick between his lifelong best friend and his sister. He couldn’t, and he doesn’t want to.

Taehyung on the other hand feels like a fucking idiot. Exposing his feelings, and to him, it seems like you’re dodging it head-on. Relief floods him.

“I like you, god I do,” You mumble, thumb brushing over the scar on the side of his face. “I don’t want to come between you and jungkook.” Taehyung shakes his head, holding your face in his hands.

“I don’t care anymore. I don’t,” he whined, moving closer. It felt like literal years before his lips touched yours and when they do, it knocks the wind out of you. His hand on yours as he practically smashes your lips together and god does it feel good. It feels so fucking good to kiss him. Like you’re finally breathing fresh air. You return the force of the kiss, hand on his shoulder as they mold together. His lips, they’re soft save for the tiny spot that's chapped. He had on cherry-flavored chapstick, making you smile a bit. It tasted weird.

“I don’t care.” Taehyung breathed against your lips. His hand held your face, thumb moving over your bottom lip. It gave your stomach butterflies, to say the least, while he kissed you again. Too slow for your liking, laughing as you bumped noses. You fell back into the bed, the blond following suit. If he didn’t care, then neither did you.

His hands stayed holding your head, jaw tilted in place as you made out slowly. Strings of soft, loving kisses that had years behind them. Decades.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to keep things under wraps,” you mumbled, feeling his lips wander to your neck. An innocent kiss turned deviant.

You’ve never received a proper hickey before, and god was it making your head spin. The difference between a harsh bite on your neck was massive compared to what Taehyung was doing. His tongue was moving slowly over your skin, pinpointing the spot. Kissing it, mentally marking it before he started sucking on it carefully. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting him do as he pleased. The sensation heightened even more as his hand found yours. He laced the fingers together, before pinning it to the bed.

“Don’t make it too big,” you breathed, tightening the grip on his hand. The laugh that came from his lips was sinister, cold fingers feeling under your hood but stopping at the dip in your back. He held you close as his lips returned to yours, teeth tugging on them carefully before he was kissing you. Like he wasn’t just sucking the blood out of your neck.

Taehyung pulls away, calm. “How was that?” His mood, a whole one-eighty as he sported a lopsided grin. A new glint in his eyes. “I like that..” His thumb pressed over the spot he was just working on before pulling you up with him. The kiss he pressed to your foreheaD? God, everything about him was addicting and you only had him for mere seconds.

“You’re an idiot.” Your face, no help as your cheeks light on fire. Taehyung grinned, his infamous smile as he kissed you again. Honestly, you’re about to fall back into the bed before your phone rings. You’re snapped out of the honeymoon phase as you quickly read the screen. “Shit— I gotta go! Jungkook is so gonna kick my ass!”

You scramble to gather yourself, picking up your keys as you almost hurdle up the stairs. Your arm is yanked back, almost out of your damn socket. You’re flung back into Taehyung’s body, the lips finding yours for one last time before he’s pushing your ass out the door.

“Text me when you’re home.. let me know Jungkook didn’t skin you.”

You both share a nervous laugh, your own feet leaving behind a dust trail as you eject into the car. The engine races to life, pulling out from the side of the street only to speed home. The drive is uneventful and gut-wrenching. You almost clip the mailbox as you pull into your spot in the driveway. You shut your car door softly, fingers not even having the chance to turn the knob before the front door flings open. Jungkook standing there, your stomach falling into your ass.

He knows.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Getting ice cream.” Y/N, you’re a fucking idiot.

Your brother pulls you by the hoodie gently so he can shut the door and lock it. “Cut the bullshit, I have your location dumbs. You’re not doing a good job of hiding that hickey on your neck either.” He’s whisper yelling, which lets you conclude that his friends were still in the living room. The brunette grumbles, popping his head in to make sure his friends were still entertained. “When did you and Taehyung start fucking?” God, the way he spat it out was malicious. But you had to defend yourself.

“Can you watch your mouth kook? We aren’t, we just— kissed,” you groaned. “I know it sounds bad, but it didn’t start until tonight.”

“So you are fucking?”

You roll your eyes. “No, we aren’t. What's the big deal anyway? We kissed a couple of times, Jungkook. Grow up.” You kick off your shoes, turning to the stairs but you have Jungkook’s hand to keep you in place.

“Y/N, I told you the deal. You’ve known the deal. I don’t want you with him, I can’t be a mediator. I won’t have my best friend dating my little sister.” Jungkook’s voice was low but firm. He was dead serious.

But so were you.

You rip your arm out of his grip. “Then don’t be one, and mind your fucking business. I don’t need your approval on who I date.” You want to move up the stairs, but you had to get the last word. “You know, at least he gives a shit. At least he cared about everything that happened with Yoongi. He straightened him out, made him apologize while you barely lifted a finger! If it comes to that point, then it’s between me and Taehyung, not you.” You storm off to your room, Jungkook grumbling.

“Then tell your fucking boyfriend that he can forget about our fucking friendship.”

You slam your door at his words, back pressed against it as you tried to cool off. You yanked your phone out of your pocket, texting Taehyung.

he’s such a fucking asshole. he just blew up on me for no reason.

You fall back into your bed, huffing angrily as Taehyung responds.

ya. he txted me n told me to find another ride to school tmrw. guess he was srs bout cutting me off

Fuck Jungkook.

...

You never saw yourself doing pretty much anything that surfaced within the two months after you and Taehyung started seeing each other. Secretly of course.

Even if the idiots called quits on their friendship, Jungkook would still kick Taehyung’s ass if he saw you together. You’ve been lying to Jungkook about where you go after school. He was still giving you the cold shoulder, suspecting that he blames you for their friendship ending. You couldn’t care less.

You had snuck out for the first time, to meet Taehyung at his house, and you would still be doing it even if Jungkook approved or not. It was his damn fault.

You still would’ve been in the busy part of the town’s bowling alley, Taehyung all over you. You weren’t really worried. The crowded part of the lot made it easy for the town’s druggies and smokers to do it safely, and no one would suspect a thing. Same with others like you and Taehyung. Thank god he had snatched the last spot in the corner of the asphalt lot.

“Ow!” You yelped loudly at the tug of your hair, Taehyung’s elbow leaning heavily on it. He pulled away from our neck, already looking mangled with the same crazy grin you’ve fallen in love with these past few weeks. He moves your hair safely out of the danger zone, offering a small ‘sorry’. He dives back into your skin, tongue lapping over the expanse of your neck before biting harshly. You sigh lazily, hand moving up into his hair as he placed the final kisses over his hickies.

He surges up to kiss you, falling right in line with him as your other hand makes quick work of feeling his naked body. Both of yours together, save for the underwear you both had on. You feel how toned he is, each muscle moving under his skin as he adjusts himself again between your legs, making you bite your lip.

Euphoric as you feel, you’re curious.

“Do you miss Kook? Be honest.”

Taehyung groans, head coming up from the trail he was leaving right above the hem of your bra. “You’re killing my boner, Y/N. I don’t wanna talk about your brother while I’m bout to fling this bra to the front seat.” You snort, laughing into your arm as Taehyung does the same. You grab his hand, lacing together your fingers as you bring his actions to a stop.

“babe, I'm serious. I just— I feel guilty sometimes.” You know that you shouldn’t, but it eats at you. “You’ve been friends since the third grade. I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.” Taehyung pulls away, a more serious expression on his features.

“I know. I do love kook— I always will, but it's his fault. If he can’t support us being together, then he’s just not a real one.”

You snicker at the phrase. “Just please let me know, okay? I understand, but I dunno. I always thought you guys would be each other's best man. Stupid things like that,” you hum, the fingers that were traveling up your back landed on your hip, playing with the band on your thong.

“I will. I’ll probably apologize to him soon, but not yet. I don’t want him watching my every move.” He grinned as he kissed you, trailing down your jaw. “Plus isn’t it fun like this? I think it’s a little sexier to fuck you in private.” You rolled your eyes, his cock hard against your thigh now as your face turns red.

“You’re so embarrassing,” you mumble, rolling over mentally. You’ll let the argument sit for tonight, hands resuming the schedule of moving down his navel until your nails hit the spot just under his boxers. Taehyung hums, rolling his cock into your hand.

Taehyung shrugs. “Stop acting so shy, you’re not a virgin,” he protests, hand on the back of your thigh as he brings it up against his hip, rutting into you like he was actually fucking you. “Not anymore at least.” Your face reddens as he mentioned it, remembering how you both had your first time together. But this wasn’t it. This was less innocent than you had been in the past.

You let out a soft moan at the action as he did it again, hand pressing to the fogged window as he grinned. He loved grinding against you, getting you more than riled up, his hand moving up your sternum. He’s quick with removing your bra, hickies from past endeavors laying on the skin of your chest. Taehyung has to lean back down, tongue lapping over your nipple, knowing he’s going to remark his territory.

It’s like electricity every time, your body hot against the cool leather of his chevy malibu. You love the way he toys with your nipples, biting them just enough to tease you, and not hurt you. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses to your ribcage, fingers dangerously low on your hip before they’re moving over your underwear. His fingers press against you through the fabric and you can start to feel it dampen as he rubs it slowly up and down.

“Fuck,” you whine, bucking into his hand. “Stop teasing.”

Taehyung’s eyes are shining with a new temptation, pulling your underwear down a bit to twist your clit between the pad of his fingers. His cock was definitely awake now, a dangerous grin on his face as he leaned over you.

“mmm, I think you should beg, like how you were doing last time.”

Your face bursts into flames at the reminder of how you were acting the last time. You’re not sure what the hell had gotten into you, but Taehyung was making you do a lot of embarrassing things. A part of you didn’t mind if it was pleasing him.

“Shut up,” you mumble, instantly whining at the loss of his fingers. He pulled your underwear back up to your hips and leaned back.

“So should I drive you home and drop you off while you’re pussy is dripping, or are you going to beg as I asked?” Fuck. You groaned, pulling him back. You definitely couldn’t go back home. “Did that hit a spot? You would be screwed if I made you go back home. You’d have to ride something to get rid of all this tension right here.” His fingers are moving the thong to the side, middle finger in down to the knuckle. You arch a little, his words making your head spin.

“Something to satisfy that greedy pussy like I do, and you can’t do that when your brother is in the next room, so I suggest you start begging, brat.”

You moan again, hand holding his forearm, nails digging into his skin. You loved it when he got like this. Dominant and demanding, god it made you crazy.

But begging was so embarrassing. “Fuck.. please—“

“Please, what?”

The blonde barely gave you time to even respond as he demanded another answer. You look up at him innocently, at least as innocently as you could with two of his fingers pumping your pussy.

“f-fuck me, please,” you begged, hips pushing down on his fingers eagerly as you bite your lip to muffle the noises. “hhh please fuck m-me into the seats, please.” You can tell he’s not satisfied. You wanted to curl and die from embarrassment. You knew you’d have to get lewder, his fingers working into you just right as your hand gripped the seatbelt dangling over your head.

“I dunno if you really want it,” he hummed normally, fingers coming out of you, glistening. He wastes no time sticking them into his mouth, cleaning them off.

You whined. “Please, I’ll d-do anything.. I’ll let you fuck my face against t-the window to sh-show everyone just how big your cock is— daddy.”

“Ohoho,” he laughed, not halting any actions as he pulls off your underwear to deposit it behind his head, pushing his boxers low enough to let his cock fall heavy on your slit. It wasn’t nearly enough, to feel it pulsing against your clit. “Keep going.” You can tell he’s living for the way you’re talking, eyes lidded as he’s fucking his cock up and down your folds, not daring to go inside.

“D-did daddy enjoy t-that name?” You try to act coy, but it fails. The bratty demeanor drops as his hand runs between the valley of your breasts, right onto your neck, applying force. “please... I want to feel y-your cock in m-my stoma—“ Taehyung watches your face as your words drop off, his cock moving into you at once until he physically couldn’t go anymore. You both were breathing heavily, the blonde unable to wait as his thumb moves over your lips.

“God you talk— so fucking sexy Y/N.” He pushed the thumb in your mouth and you immediately sucked on it, eyes watching him as he pulled out. He pushes his cock back in even harder, your back moving against the leather as his hand slips from the window to hold the back door handle. “You’re such a good.. a good girl when you b-beg for my cock.” The words light your stomach on fire. The past two times you guys had done anything, it was never like this. It was intimate and lustful sure. But it was pure. Right now, it was lust drive completely, Taehyung’s pupils blown out as he glared at you. You had never called each other names before, but you definitely reacted to what he said.

“m-move,” you choked out, lips running dry from how fast you were breathing. He grips your neck like a handle, hips snapping into yours as your leg moves off the side of the seat. “M-my fucking god… feels so fucking good.” Taehyung grins, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, licking into your mouth. You catch his tongue the best you can around the moans, his hips meeting yours every other second it seems. The soft radio plays tame impala in the background, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of his hips slapping your thighs, and the way he’s groaning.

It’s low enough to turn into a growl, the blonde’s eyes watch as he can see the faint outline of his dick in your stomach. The skin moves with him, and he’s fascinated by the hit, only fueling him to go deeper.

“Fucking look at that— fuck,” he moaned head tilted back a bit before he’s hovering over you. His chain dangles in your face as he fucks you hard enough that you’re convinced there’s gonna be bruises where he’s holding your hips for dear life. “Taking m-my cock like it’s the o-only thing you know how to do, and I bet it f-feels good in this tummy of yours huh?” You nod helplessly, whimpering as he grabs your hand and laces the fingers, pinning it to the leather behind your head.

“s-shit, hhh, it feels— god daddy it f-feels good,” you moan, voice cracking as he starts to move even faster. “D-do you l-like that name?”

He nods, eyes shutting for a bit as he looks up to the ceiling of the car, enjoying how tight you are around his cock. He takes the hand off of your neck, pinning both hands over your head as he absolutely drills you, making you whine.

“I do, fuck I do.. the way you say t-that and my fucking name—“ he chokes, pulling your legs up so he can get in at a deeper angle. “I h-have half the mind to fuck your f-face into this god d-damn seat.” Your eyes shut at the words, your high approaching dangerously close considering how deep he was in you. Eight inches didn’t go sparingly, rubbing against the best part of you, making your toes curl.

“t-then do it,” you challenge him, arching up into his chest as he kisses you to shut you the hell up. His head was spinning, loving the way your body reacted to him and opened up to him. He’s quick to forget about your hands, which are on him almost instantly as he regains the position on your neck.

“Y-you think I won’t?” God you fucking loved that voice. The low baritone sound of his words made you a mess. “T-think I won’t make you c-call Yoongi right now wh-while I slam this tight cunt into the ground.” You whined at it, his pace increasing as you gripped the seats, barely able to breathe as he choked you harder.

You’re honestly ready to cum, but as soon as the pleasure reached its peak, Taehyung was pulling out. You can’t even figure out which way is up before he’s grabbing you from between your thighs, flipping you over. It starts as soon as it stopped, his hand on the back of your neck as the side of your face is smushed to the seat.

Taehyung grins lazily, too fucked out for his own good as he slaps your ass loudly. You yelp at the action, jolting forward at the collision. “Look at this fucking ass.. n-never have I wanted to bury my cock into some—something so bad before.”

The blonde pushes his thumb into your wet cunt, spitting violently into your pussy, watching it drip. He followed it with his dick, filling you up instantly as you arched into the seats. His hand is twisting in your hair, wrapping around his fingers before he’s forcing you to look at the ceiling.

“I s-spit in that fucking cunt— cause it's mine,” he groaned, and you nodded the best you could. Your throat was tired, every moan bouncing with how hard he was fucking you, thighs trembling.

“taehyung— my god, tae,” you moaned, turning back a bit to see his ab muscles working overtime, moving tautly under the skin as he drilled you. “G-god I'm gonna—“

“Good girl,” he praised, watching sickly as his cock disappeared into your wet folds, watching your ass bounce with every thrust. “Cum on my cock, baby girl, please.” Now he was the one begging, voice getting whiny and airy, thrusts getting sloppy as he tried to keep hitting the spot he was. You couldn’t even think anymore, the slow climb to your climax was irritating almost, before you feel two pads against your clit, rubbing it side to side. You definitely weren’t going to last now, hips bucking as you tried to warn your boyfriend.

“g-god fucking damn,” Taehyung whined, feeling you squeeze him airtight before you cum hard on him.

You’re moaning over and over again, and a little too loudly for taehyung’s own liking, hand covering your mouth as he finally had come inside you too. He cursed loudly, not even fucking you anymore. He buried himself in you to let out his cum, groaning as he felt it flood your pussy.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, wanting to slump against the seat but Taehyung’s hand is keeping you steady. He pulls out his cock, whining at the feeling as he spreads your lips open to watch the cum fall out. You swat his hand away at the action, trying to catch your breath as you flip onto your back, pulling him gently by the chain to come to lay with you.

“You’re tight as hell,” he breathed, making you laugh loudly, still out of breath. He kissed your forehead softly, followed by your entire face, making sure you were okay. This was always the best part. The aftercare, and feeling how much he really cared for you as he cleaned you both up the best he could before forfeiting to exhaustion.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumble finally as he lays with you again, kissing him slowly on the lips. “I love you.” Taehyung smiled at the words, turning you back as he kissed you back, holding you close. You didn’t care about Jungkook anymore. You loved him and you wanted him. No matter what that came with. You wanted to be with him.

“I love you too,” he mumbles, right against your lips before kissing you again. You wanted it to stay like this forever. Care-free, enjoyable. You know that once you get out of this car and return to your own, you’ll have to face your brother again. You’d have to keep facing him every day until you could come clean to him, and who knows how long that’ll be. For now, you relax into Taehyung’s arms. Who knows when you’d get a chance like this again.

The next morning was, as usual, the usual glow of sex on your face. You may have been a little sore, but you couldn’t care less. The night, any night with Taehyung, had you on cloud nine. You could tell he wanted you, not your body. He had worshipped you as no boy had done before. Your head was over the moon.

Even as a relief, it was still irritating to receive your period the next morning. You shuffle through the locker, grabbing the emergency tampons and shoving them into your pocket. The locker shuts and you’re ready to break it to the bathroom, but you’re almost clotheslined by an arm.

“Nice vampire bite.” The voice is venomous and sour. You already knew it was Yoongi before you ripped your eyes to meet his. “Another guy who is just using you.” You scoff while trying to move past him, but he’s larger than you. Encasing you to the lockers.

The laugh is evil. “You’re a fucking pussy, Y/N. You were sooo hurt by my comment that you had to send your brother's bitch of a lap dog to come ‘straighten me out’ huh?” Your heart is pounding in your ears, scared of what he was going to do next. You doubt he was going to do anything so drastic.

“Guess it didn’t stick with you, huh?” You retort quickly, watching as others were crowding the hallway because of the previous bell.

For that reason, he leans in. “If someone says they’re with you, for any other reason than fucking you? They’re lying.”

Your eyes water, failing to meet his gaze. You have half the mind to slap him, but you’re not even sure what you’re going to say next. Not when a flash of a blonde is grabbing the menace by his collar, pushing him back into the locker. The grip Taehyung has on his shirt is deadly, the usual pink hue to his knuckles are white out of anger. He pulls the raven-haired senior off the wall just to slam him again, teeth bared. Eyes narrowed, not backing down from the challenge. Any other day, you would’ve found this extremely hot.

“Say one more fucking thing about her.”`

Yoongi snorts. “Sorry, bitch boy, did I hit a nerve? Surprised you’re defending her after all the sneaking around you’ve been doing.” Taehyung didn’t even know how the fuck he knew about you guys, but he didn’t care. Taehyung was seeing red right now, taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to not crack his face. “Haven’t gotten tired of her yet? You will soon.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Taehyung snaps. “Why do you even care? It’s been almost two months.” Yoongi’s eyes snap over to you, noticing Jungkook right by your side as he tries to guide you away. You’re frozen.

“Why do you care? You aren’t even together— all you are is Jungkook’s bitch.” Taehyung couldn’t keep it together anymore, ready to wind back his arm before he notices the crowd, his former best friend front, and center. He backs as quickly as he tackled him, ready to walk to his next class. “Right, wouldn’t want to expose our little secret? Cause what the fuck is she to you?”

Taehyung turns on his heels, arm pulling back as he wound up to hit him before a large hand is holding his. It was the school security, pushing Taehyung towards the office. He turned to check on you, eyes wide as you and your brother were absent. The blonde had to sit in the office and listen to an hour of scolding, finally getting off with detention. He doesn’t even bother going home, immediately making his way to your house.

He thought a lot about what had happened, a pit turning in his stomach. He probably just confirmed any of Jungkook’s suspicions, watching him freak out over you like that. But the blonde didn’t care. Part of him was hoping you weren’t home facing Jungkook’s wrath, and another part of him was proud of what happened today. If anything, that showed Jungkook how much Taehyung really cared for you.

None of that mattered. Jungkook would still pick his own side.

The said raven was watching you sleep peacefully. He couldn’t believe that two boys were fighting over his little sister, one being his best friend. It was so idiotic and pointless. He’s a little relieved that Taehyung was there for you, but he couldn’t ignore what Yoongi said. ‘Your little secret’? He suspected they were meeting up behind his back, and that only enraged him even more. He didn’t want to have to deal with another boy breaking your heart.

Would Taehyung ever do that?

Jungkook is startled out of his thoughts at the sound of the doorbell, opening it to see Taehyung. Both of their stomachs are wrenching in their core, the still silence is unsettling. Never in his life did Taehyung think there would be a sour moment, yet here it was.

“She’s asleep. What do you need?” The tone hurts. It’s sour and stern, and foreign. A tone that he’s never heard come out of Jungkook’s mouth, and it makes him lose his train of thought. His fingers play idly with the strings on his sweater.

He inhales. “Dude, look. I know— I fucked up, and I’m sorry. You know I would never hurt her like that. Even if I did, I know the consequences.” Taehyung wanted to roll over and just apologize, but he needed to stand his ground. “What has you so bent? You know me, Kook. What’s so bad about us being together if we’re both happy.”

Jungkook shakes his head, arms crossed. “That’s not the point.”

“How is it not?”

“You went behind my back and got with her, even after I told you not to— the one thing I ask you not to do, and you do it. It puts me in an uncomfortable situation, and now it is for her too.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Because of Yoongi? What the hell did you want me to do? If you were there and heard him talking that way about her, you would’ve done the same.” Taehyungs anger is boiling now, thinking about the situation. “But you weren’t, so I had to do your job and take care of it.”

Taehyung immediately regrets saying that, considering the door slams in his face. He groans. I’m a fucking idiot.

The Blonde trudged back to his own house, head full. He knew all of this was a bad idea, hence why he was hesitant to be with you in the first place. Unfortunately, once he had been with you, the want was overbearing. To just give it up over one stupid day? He couldn’t just let you go.

Taehyung finally feels some weight drop as he falls into bed, more exhausted than he’s ever been in a while. The frame on his bedside tables hurts the familiar faces of you and Jungkook alongside the blonde on his sixteenth birthday. He had the biggest crush on you ever and to be honest, he’s not sure he’s stopped ever since you bandaged his knee in the third grade. It sounds so fucking dumb, but he can’t help smiling at the thought.

It makes sense why none of his other relationships worked out, considering he was always looking for you in other girlfriends. That's why He can’t let you go, and it’s why his heart leaps when he sees you calling.

“Hey,” he breathes, relief flooding his body. You take a bit to respond, chewing words around in your mouth.

“Hey... I heard you and Jungkook outside so.. thank you, for dealing with Yoongi.”

Taehyung stammered. “You’re not mad?”

“Well,” you sigh, laying back into your pillows. “I don’t agree with how you handled it, but.. you did it for me, and I love you for that.” Taehyung’s heart restarts as he sits up, a dorky smile on his face.

“I love you too, Y/N…” You smiled, butterflies as you sighed. It made you happy to hear that. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna talk to Jungkook and see why he’s really bent. Maybe I’ll change his mind.”

You shrug. “I dunno if he’ll ever get over it, it really irritates him.” You could not pinpoint why, and it irritated you even more.

“I know, but I have to try.” Taehyung groaned. He was a simp. “Imma see what the real reason is.”

Even as you two talked on the phone, it lifted your mind. After everything with Yoongi today, your mind racing as it finally relaxes once you settle into bed. Taehyung’s voice runs through your ears and you think about the couple of months you’ve had with him. A little carefree and mischievous. You just wanted to go back, and not have to face anything tomorrow.

The morning is lonely for Taehyung. A morning where usually it would be him and Jungkook, it was just him. No texts, no screenshots from the game last night, no sitting in his car while all of you sang horrible karaoke. It just wasn’t the same, and he hated pretending like it was. He finally got to school, opening his locker. The day was just as dull, sitting alone at lunch while you and your brother sat with his friends. You wanted to sit with him so badly, but you knew that Jungkook and Taehyung had to resolve things before you could be together. And it was so dramatic, and for what?

You stabbed at the pasta your mom had cooked last night, eyeing the devils incarnate across the room. Yoongi’s eyes were on you and you wanted to do nothing more than shoving his face into his cold pizza. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to start more drama. You wanted to go home and have a nice calm weekend… texting your boyfriend… who wasn’t yours but, it’s all the same.

The day gets duller as it goes on for both parties. Taehyung is mulling through the last period of the day. Of course, it was math.

He gated algebra and it blows that it’s the last fucking class. He feels refreshed once the last bell rings, but the walk to his locker is just as lonely as the last month had been feeling. Taehyung unlocked his locker, ready to just leave already. He would be angrily shoving books into his locker now before a picture falls freely out of his locker. He can barely recognize the interior of his car before it feels like everyone is staring at him.

His throat is so fucking dry, he can barely breathe. He picks up the photo, stomach-dropping into his fucking ass.

His brown eyes round the hallway, seeing everyone has received the same picture, and everyone was staring at him.

He had never run so fast in his life once his brain had processed what was happening. He rounds the corner, to see your locker and you’re not there. But it’s wide fucking open, thousands of copies scattered on the floor and the metal door. Jungkook stood, motionless and silent, as he looked at the photos. A million pictures of his best friend and his sister— making out in a car. Taehyung, who was still stumbling over his shock, had watched Jungkook slam the locker shut and approach him. God he was ready to shit his pants, for his life was about to flash before his eyes. He braced his muscles for any form of attack. It doesn’t come.

“Open your eyes, shit head.”

Taehyung blinked an eye open. “You aren’t gonna kick my ass?”

“No,” he grumbled. Taehyung wanted to laugh considering that nickname from him sounded so good. Like they were back to normal. “Now isn't the time to be worried about you and my sister, fuck. that. I’m not worried about this, I’m worried about what fucking prick would send this shit around, she’s a fucking minor.” There, Taehyung can see it. Jungkook’s scared. He’s scared for his sister, and if they had switched places, Taehyung would feel the same way. He can understand where Jungkook is coming from now, with his entire argument. He wanted to protect her from assholes like this, and as much as Taehyung could argue with him; he’ll never understand what it was like to have a baby sister.

But he drops it to save his ass. Taehyung remembers to breathe once his shirt gets dropped, but he’s still being pulled back towards his locker. Jungkook collecting all the pictures he can, shoving them deep into the trash. Cause fuck this. Jungkook hated the idea of them together, and truthfully he has no clue why. He wants to protect her, but there’s another layer. That aside, they were gonna find out who the hell did this.

“Kook. you need me to spell it o—“

Jungkook slammed a poor kid into a locker to grab the picture from him, ripping it in half. “The moment I find out who the fuck this is, I’m gonna smash his face into the fucking ground.” Jungkook was filled with rage, disposing every last picture he possibly could before dragging Taehyung out to the lot. He shoved his bag into the backseat, holding the raven in place.

“Bro,” he said calmly, looking at his best friend. “Who else? it’s Yoongi. he was talking all that shit in the hallways, like who else?” Jungkook nodded. it made sense. Yoongi was a prideful person, but who else would go through the trouble of humiliating her like this.

“So what now?”

Taehyung shrugged, leaning against the hood of his car. “The only thing I’m thinking of is that we go kick his fucking ass.” Jungkook rounded the car quickly as they both got in, engine revving.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The drive to Yoongi’s hangout was silent. It was a little bittersweet that they were going to kick his ass in the same parking lot where those pictures took place. Taehyung was admittedly a little nervous. He knew you didn’t like fights or conflict and this was the opposite of everything you didn’t like. If he wanted to make a point, that’s a decision he’d have to live with.

Jungkook grumbled irritably. “God, the moment I see him I’m gonna rip his head off. What a fucking— oh my god.” The raven’s voice cut off as they pulled up to the bowling alley, noticing Yoongi there with three of his friends. The two shared a look, and they were both scared shitless.

“How are we gonna beat them? Four against two ain’t fair,” Taehyung whined, Jungkook throwing the car into park. Jungkook was trying to strategize in his head, but the only conclusion he had was to face this shit head-on. They both exit the car, rounding the lot to meet the four sitting on the edge of Yoongi’s car.

Yoongi’s the first to notice, jumping a bit but posing like he was a threat once his friends noticed.

“So, it is true that you’re his lapdog?” Yoongi laughed. “I was right about you, and in the hallway, I bet you wanted to kick my ass huh?”

Taehyung stepped forward. “I want to kick your fucking ass right now. Where you the one who printed out those pictures?”

“Yeah.”

He admitted it effortlessly, the plain smirk on his smug face was seriously pissing Taehyung off.

“What the fuck for?” Taehyung’s fists were balled as the elder boy stepped closer, unable to resist punching him in the face.

Yoongi shrugged. “‘Cause I wanted her to see that every boy she’ll ever meet wants to fuck her; nothing more, nothing less.”

Taehyung wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment or not, but Jungkook was the first to jump. His fist connected with Yoongi’s jaw followed by a loud crack. That’s when the fight broke out.

You sat in your bed, bundled in your brother's sweatshirt as you flipped through Netflix on your mac. You were barely paying attention considering you were chewing off all your nails. You hadn’t heard from Jungkook or Taehyung since you had left school. You were a little distraught, but honestly, there was a big event every week at your school and you prayed this would blow over. You knew it was Yoongi anyways and you kind of figured that those two idiots would have done something by now. Or maybe Jungkook still wouldn’t forgive him after this. Maybe they would still be mad— maybe they weren’t even together.

Your head was swarming with thoughts but you were too exhausted to pick up the phone. You turn to another episode of some random crime show, laying back into the mountain of pillows before your stomach lurches at the sound of a car door. Two doors to be exact, and they slam shut. You spring from the bed, racing to the top of the stairs. Your eyes meet with two boys.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Taehyung laughs, wiping the blood that’s dripping from his nose while Jungkook’s laugh rings through the previously silent house. It was like music to hear them laughing together, shoulders bumping as they made it into the entryway of the house. It takes a bit to realize that they’ve had their asses kicked. Like they were jumped.

You race down the stairs. “Oh my god. what the hell happened?” Jungkook’s lip was split, eye bruising slowly as he limped over to you. “Did you two idiots get hit by a car or something?” The two laugh in sync, fist-bumping each other as Jungkook waves off the concern.

“Believe it or not, we won.”

You snort. “Won what?” Taehyung kicks off his shoes, holding his sleeve to his nose. You notice his eyebrow is split as well, knuckles bruised.

“We went and kicked Yoongi’s ass. He had some randoms with him but we came through in the end,” Jungkook breathed. “I’m glad you were there with me, bro.” You let your heart warm for them. You knew they were hurting, watching the two boys hug. You knew they meant it, them both pulling away as Jungkook hugged you as well.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more when Yoongi was first acting up. I should’ve straightened him out the first night you told him about us.”

You shake your head, hugging him tighter. “Shut up. You just got your ass handed to you, don’t apologize.” You three laugh and god, it feels good. It feels normal until your eyes linger on Taehyung slowly. You wanted to hug him and kiss him, despite his face being bloody. You’re ready to retreat to the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you. He pushes you towards the blonde while he starts to rummage the fridge for ice.

You’re hesitant and so is Taehyung, but once you felt it was okay, you moved. It felt free and honest, holding his face in your hands to kiss him. He returns it with equal force, slow and meaningful. He pulls away, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Yoongi won’t be a problem anymore,” Taehyung breathed, hands on your waist.

You laugh sadly, thumbing over the mark on his eyebrow. “You barely made it out alive, dork… but thank you. Seriously, both of you,” You mumble, eyes looking to your brother. You’re ready to start a speech but Taehyung cuts you off, the blonde practically trembling next to you.

“I know this may be weird, but I’m sorry for sneaking around with your sister. This is gonna sound so formal and cheesy, and it’s making me want to puke, but I love her a—“

Jungkook groans. “God just shut up.” Jungkook was doubled over, fake puking noises coming from his mouth. You laugh a little, a thousand weights off of your shoulder as your fingers lace with Taehyung’s. “I was a little mad in the beginning cause you’re my baby sister… and you’re my best friend. That put’s me in a difficult spot.”

He continues. “Even so, I can tell that it won’t be an issue. Taehyung cares about you, I can see that now. Especially with how hard he was kicking that idiot’s ass—“ You snort, punching Jungkook’s arm. But he shrugs. “I’m serious. I’m fine with you guys. I want you to be happy and if that’s with each other, I can live with that.” You hum happily, pulling them both into a group hug. The love you felt from both of them was radiating.

Of course, Jungkook had to ruin the moment.

“I better not see you guys making out, or I will throw up on you, got it?”

You and Taehyung swear to him, laughing as you three trailed to the kitchen so you could start healing their cuts. Jungkook, however, falls behind. His heart feels heavy and before he had no clue why. He watched you two kiss, the hand on your waist making his stomach drop. He knows now why he didn’t want you guys to be together.

He didn’t want to share Taehyung with you for a specific reason. One he’s not ready to admit yet.

He knows it’s resentful and jealous.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #v x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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Hi I posted an ask regarding your view point on GGDD's safety by people shipping them openly by bus designs, digital hoardings in their country and various other ways. I am not sure if you have already replied because I can't seem to find it. If not, please notify in case you would be interested in posting, there is no pressure or complaints if the answer is not affirmative. Also, I am hoping to read your piece on current issue DD is facing in relation to Nike. I am sure a lot of people enjoy your straight, detailed and analytical thought process and information presentation. A lot of people especially ifans needs to understand the perspective and position an actor or any national level influencer/celebrity is in when they are a citizen of totalitarian regime.

I would love to read, if you decide to write.

Thank you for your blog. It is highly appreciated and welcomed.

Hello Anon! I sincerely apologise ~ my ask box has been very full, and I answer based on time availability (which isn’t much) and “urgency” of the matter (for example, the recent post on Dangai/WoH skipped the line because it’s current). My whim too, occasionally and admittedly; sometimes I’d like to take a breather and talk about something a little more fannish and fun (like window cleaning robots!) Above all, I prefer giving delayed but responsible, or even no answers over irresponsible ones, given some of the subject matter I touch upon. I’ll ... probably have to write up an ask box policy at some point.

Now, my thoughts about Dd’s current situation ... or maybe, my thoughts about the things around it ...

I should explain where my highly disorganised thoughts this time come from first. I’m a Hong Konger by birth, and I grew up at a time when it was still conventional for Hong Kongers to refer themselves as Chinese, following the tradition of referring to the (believed) origin of one’s paternal family as our own origin. I’ve never, however, sworn allegiance to the Chinese government; the two citizenships I’ve ever held are 1) United Kingdom (Hong Kong was still a British crown colony when I was there), and 2) United States.

The distinction between China, the country, and Chinese government, as the country’s rulership, has therefore always been clear to me. You can love, feel a bond with the country, its people and culture and its 5,000 year old history, without having feeling anything with its 71 years-young government with foreign (soviet) roots. To quote Hamilton: Oceans rise, empires fall, and just the central plains of China alone went through a total of 13 recorded dynasties, during which its border waxed and waned, often splitting what is now Chinese territory into multiple countries under different rulership that sometimes split along ethnic lines—China, in that sense, isn’t even historically a country as we define one today; it’s a piece of land in East Asia where different countries have taken over, risen and fallen. And the major ethnic group, Han, which also includes the vast majority of the current political elite, wasn’t always in control. The Yuan dynasty (1271–1368) was famously built by Mongolians; the Qing dynasty (1636–1912), Manchurians. Beijing, the current capital of China, began its illustrious history as The Capital City for the non-Han based, north-of-central-plain dynasties of Liao and Jin. Liao people were believed to be either Mongolic or Tungusic. Jin people were Tungusic, and would eventually become Manchurians. Xinjiang (新疆), meanwhile, was only under the influence of the ancient Chinese empires sporadically, and its formal conquest / incorporation by a Chinese dynasty didn’t happen until ~ 1760, and by the (Manchurian) Qing dynasty. Its late incorporation is also reflected in its name that means, literally, “New Territory”.

What does this all mean? It means: 1) Loving China =/= loving the Chinese Communist Party; 2) Chinese culture =/= Han culture; especially the Han culture infused with “Core Socialist Values” as defined by the Chinese Communist Party; 3) X dynasty’s territory (where X = one of the ancient Chinese dynasties) =/= What has to be People Republic of China’s territory.

And by writing down these three =/=, which I’d argue are simply conclusions from historical facts and logic, I’ve committed an act of subversion in the eyes of the current Chinese government. Remove the “/” in “=/=“, and you’ve got three of the most important talking points of Chinese propaganda.

The sacred, un-violatable rules the Chinese government tells its people.

Why do I mention them? Because the scrutiny, the attack on Dd read familiar to me, and is probably familiar too to all those who’ve kept even a brief eye on Hong Kong and Taiwanese entertainers who work in China. When a topic that violates one of these propaganda points makes news (for example, the HK protest, Hong Kong/Taiwan Independence), entertainers from Hong Kong / Taiwan—anyone who’ve achieved name recognition—are often placed under immediate scrutiny by Chinese netizens to see whether and when they’ll confirm their loyalty towards the Chinese government. The argument is that only those who display absolute loyalty to the Chinese government deserves to earn China’s money, and the main motivation behind this scrutiny, in this case, is mistrust: Hong Kong, after all, is crawling with British loyalists and rioters according to Chinese propaganda, with separatists who’re conspiring with foreign governments to overthrow the Chinese government; the democratic island nation of Taiwan, meanwhile, is supposedly a rogue child who has escaped its mother (China) ’s arms for the past 70+ years—the child who, by the way, shall be brought to their knees (along with into their mother’s arms) by military intervention. Both places, in other words, are serial violators of =/= 1) and 3), and not to be trusted. If their entertainers fail to affirm their loyalty towards the Chinese government, or if the timing of their patriotic display is perceived as off, vicious accusations—similar to those Dd has endured—will fly, and calls for boycott begin.

Here’s a related observation, while I’m at it ... no one in c-ent is really allowed to keep their political views quiet, even if they’re not particularly well-known. No one can say, politics isn’t for me, it’s too ugly/too complicated/doesn’t fit my image and shove it under the proverbial carpet. Under an authoritarian government, control is exerted via politics, via propaganda that seeps into day-to-day language. It’s an oil slick that taints and swims in even the smallest crevice of life—there’s no where to hide.

And Dd is far more famous than almost all of these HK and Taiwan based entertainers. 表態 — a public announcement of his stance — is the only option left for him when he becomes the centre of a sensitive political issue such as this one. And there’s really only one stance he can take.

In that sense, what happened to Dd isn’t something I’m too worried about—this kind of attack under the guise of a “loyalty check” isn’t new; and the motivation behind the scrutiny of Dd is the safer to-take-down-his-career rather than political mistrust. I believe this storm shall pass soon, as long as his team doesn’t make an unexpected, big mistake. His non-fan fellow country people will probably view him with a more positive light as well: he walked the walk and did what he believed is patriotic — breaking a contract like this is no lip service when in China, performative patriotism is often lip service — reportedly even among the top Chinese Communist Party officials.

If I must find more defence for his stance ... please forgive me, Anon, but I don’t have much more to say than what I said last night, what I said before about China’s access to information—

—because, admittedly, following, talking about this incident is difficult for the Hong Konger in me, even if I’ve expected this kind of incidents from the moment I joined this fandom, even if I’ve expected, as I’ve learned from RL experience, that most people I adore in China will at some point support causes that I deeply disagree with. The online patriotic rally by c-motors and c-turtles under the associated Weibo tag, while impressive and good for Dd, is nonetheless heartbreaking/frightening for me to watch. Why? Because I know this can easily turn into a call to persecute all Hong Kongers involved in the democracy movements sometime in the future. Because I know the rally will probably be as impressive if this has been a call to persecute all Hong Kongers involved in the democracy movements. Frankly, I stopped thinking about Nike as I scrolled through the posts — I was thinking about the now impossibly wide gulf that separates most Chinese and a Hong Konger like myself; I was thinking about why a Gg / Dd performance can trend on Twitter in 10+ countries all over the world but makes almost no noise in Hong Kong or Taiwan, places that should’ve most easily fallen in love with Gg / Dd with their closeness in language and customs.

As it turns out, the closeness has only driven HK and Taiwan away; the closeness only brings them more insight of the beast—the government that looms over, cast a long shadow over everything that lives under it, including Gg and Dd.

I was reminded of the fact that many young Hong Kongers probably see me as a traitor just for being a turtle — young Hong Kongers who are n>1 generation immigrants from China, who never spend years reconciling the conflicting viewpoints, the even more conflicting emotions when it comes to this ... almost irreconcilable difference now in political beliefs north and south of the China-HK border. Unlike the older generations who often have immigrants/refugees from China for immediate, un-severable family, who often don’t have the option to walk away from the conflicts, to simply point to the other side and call it evil.

And here are my even-more-conflicting emotions:

While, over the years, I’ve learned to harbour no ill feelings to the vast majority of supporters of pro-CCP causes—I reserve blame for those who conceal the truth, who’re involved in its policy making, or people who live outside the Firewall and should know better (such as every HK entertainer who’ve expressed support)—I’ve also learned, over the same years, to be fully, painfully aware that every endorsement is still an endorsement for the regime to carry on its ways, and the damage is real, is significant even if the endorsers may not know about the true nature of their endorsements.

A simple thought experiment: the sheer size of China’s population means it can easily control the narrative on English-speaking social media. The Chinese government already has a history of mobilising its people to scale the Great Firewall and spread its propaganda on, for example, Twitter. It has also mobilised fan circles for propaganda purpose. Again, as a thought experiment *only* (ie, SJD!), imagine the Chinese government mobilising Dd’s Weibo supertopic fans to spread misinformation about Xinjiang.

Dd’s supertopic has 5+ million members—all savvy social media users and many skilled in the art of comment control (a collective effort, performed by fans to bury critiques/dissent on message boards); the total number of Uyghurs in Xinjiang is ~12 million, but their communications are heavily scrutinised and they can’t really talk. Just for the sake of argument, we’ll add the ~ 70% pro-democracy HK population to Uyghur’s side: that’s another 5 million, but most of them aren’t good at raging a battle on social media.

Which side will control the narrative in the end?

And so: I understand why Dd’s statement is what it is. I don’t fault him for making it. Still, I can’t in good conscience say to anyone, myself included, that the statement is a personal opinion and doesn’t matter. It matters a lot. His announcement is another stab to the Uyghurs, and the knife is sharp because of Dd’s social influence.

(Today, I saw Dd’s name for the first time in a Hong Kong pro-democracy online news site.)

The statement carried this sentence:

國家尊嚴不容侵犯，堅決維護祖國利益 The dignity of the country is not to be violated; the interest of our motherland is to be resolutely defended. Firstly: it’s character-for-character propaganda language. Secondly: even if we do not consider the labor camps, this is the condition in Xinjiang’s city of Urumqi. Where’s the dignity of the people who’re living there and who’s preventing that from being violated? The interest of the motherland—what kind of motherland answers an allegation of human rights violation with “interest” (利=profit, advantage; 益=benefit)? What kind of motherland has “protects its interest” being synonymous with surveillance and abuse of its own people?

I have a motherland, but it’s not the one in this narrative.

The issues of Xinjiang and the Uyghurs have also become even closer to Hong Kongers since 2019, when the fates of Hong Kongers and the Uyghurs became intricately tied—as dual examples of Chinese government’s human rights violations and indeed, these two populations who previously had very little in common have shown solidarity with each other against all odds. Their connection being this one simple, awful fact: both having what they value most stripped away by the same government—the traditions, religion and culture for the Uyghurs, the promised freedoms and hopes for democracy for Hong Kongers. As an online meme goes: “Today’s Xinjiang; Tomorrow’s Hong Kong” — expressing the fear that Hong Kongers may soon be subjected to the same surveillance as the Uyghurs today, for the same reason of having put up a fight against who they saw as their oppressors (this article offers an objective summary of what led to the 2009 clash between the Uyghurs and the Chinese government, which precipitated the former’s treatment as will-be terrorists today)(Note the role the US played in this.).

As such, I cannot look away from Xinjiang. As such, I cannot look at our two beautiful stars, Gg and Dd, without also seeing the flag with its blood red looming behind with its own five stars—the biggest of them symbolising the Chinese Communist Party.

How do I reconcile all the feelings? As I said, it’s a constant work-in-progress, possibly a lifelong one. Re: Gg and Dd, that’s what I tell myself at the moment: that my being an i-turtle shall not sway my view or silence me on any sociopolitical issues, that my being a fan of anything, anyone shall not mean any other human life is suddenly worth less to me, or its suffering, something I shall suddenly look away from. The moment this becomes true—that I find myself depreciating human lives, or ignoring the pain of others for the sake of my fannish pursuits—that’s when I must leave my fan identity until I find my discipline (I do understand the lure of a happy fandom bubble, and I’m far from immune to it). I’m a person before I’m a fan.

These are the rules of my world.

我的世界不退讓。

#pie answers #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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