#I didn’t even run or use the compass I just walked along paths and got the gist from looking at the map

[jethroq]

speaking of athletic world records, javelin is just insane. the world record for javelin doesn’t improve, not because we have reached the limit of pointy stick throw far, but because for some stupid sense of tradition javelin is still thrown on the middle of the track, and the hard limit for the record is the end of the lawn and when atheletes start approaching that line the IOC has to tweak the design of the javelin to make it fly worse, so people don’t hit the high jumpers on the other side.

and you may also wonder, in this sport where you throw an aluminum spear as hard as the human body physically can, are there ever accidents? and there sure are. people let go a split second too early or late and it goes off in the wrong angle, and pierces the liver of someone waiting to do their long jump, or a referee observing another event on the sideline.

[theback-rooms]

Following your advice, Katie and I replenished the snacks and water and grabbed a container of salt, and headed back down.

This time I remembered to check if my watch and my compass worked. The compass definitely works: it went a little crazy when we were on the stairs, but once we got out into the forest it calmed down. The path through the forest seems to travel basically northward, and deposits us on the southern bank of the lake. The palace is on the northern side.

My analog wristwatch worked, in the sense that it kept ticking away the minutes, and when we got back to my apartment, it was actually still set to the correct time, according to our phones. But it was really weird: it had a second hand, and I watched it, and it seemed to be moving more slowly than one tick per second. It also wasn’t moving consistently: some seconds were distinctly longer than others.

I have no idea what any of this means.

Katie agreed to walk along the shore of the lake rather than take the boat, partly persuaded by your arguments, which I read to her. We walked westward along the southern shore.

It was still a moonlit night there (it always seems to be a moonlit night there, no matter what time of the day we go), and the evening was pleasant and warm, with pleasant scents on the breeze.

The orange yarn that we left at our original path was still there, and since we were walking along the lakeshore, we didn’t think it was necessary to use any more for the moment.

As we walked, I kept thinking that I heard things rustling in the diamond trees, which sparkled brilliantly in the moonlight. I kept grabbing Katie’s arm and hissing, “There’s something there!” She was just turning for the fifth time to say, “There’s nothing there,” when there was a thundering noise, and we both jumped and yelped.

A herd of some kind of deer burst out of the forest and ran right past us along the shore. I was too startled at first to get a good look, but once they had run past I began to register things about them. They looked about the size of white-tailed deer, and they were very beautiful and graceful, with a brush of stiff hair up the back of their necks like zebras. But that was definitely not the weirdest thing about them: instead of a pair of antlers, or even a pair of horns like an antelope, each deer had a single horn growing from its forehead.

We watched them surge down the shoreline and then back up into the trees, and Katie and I turned and stared at one another.

“Were those... unicorns?” Katie said breathlessly.

“I think they were.”

There was a pause, and then Katie made a sound that I think can only be described as a squeal of delight.

“My goodness, what a noise!” a voice spoke up, and we both jumped and whirled again.

There was a man standing just a few yards from us. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, although maybe he came out from the trees while we were distracted by the unideer.

He had black hair and dark eyes--he might have been Latino. He was dressed in a shining, highly embroidered green... well, I guess it was a doublet? Something very Tudor-y. Thank God he was NOT wearing a codpiece. He had on some relatively normal-looking cloth trousers and knee-high boots. His eyes, which had attractively drooping lids, were sparkling with amusement, and he was grinning.

“I beg your pardon, ladies,” he said, and did an actual bow, one leg forward, arms out, and everything. He was still grinning. “There is no one here to make an introduction, so I must introduce myself: I am Lord Julian.”

After a dumbstruck moment, Katie managed to make some sort of curtsy (despite her jeans) and I tried to follow her example (and failed miserably. I’m going to have to get curtsying lessons?).

I started to give him my name, and Katie elbowed me HARD in the ribs and gave me a LOOK, which I didn’t understand at all, except maybe, “We don’t want the creepy stranger in the Renaissance Faire costume who is living in the magical forest under your bedroom to google you on ye olde internette and start stalking you”.

Come to think of it, that’s actually hella creepy.

ANYWAY.

Katie goes, “We’re just passing through!”

Lord Julian smiles like he understands everything that is going through Katie’s head (I wish I did!!) and says, “Have you ladies not thought to join us at the ball?” He gestured to the castle.

“Ball?” I asked. “Is that what the music is?”

“Yes, indeed. Many fine folks from diverse lands have come to enjoy Lady Laurel’s hospitality. There are boats many places along the shore for those who find themselves by this lake so that they may join in the revels.”

“Oh! That’s what the boat was?” Katie says eagerly. “We’re not going to get cursed if we get in it?”

Lord Julian laughed at that, and I have to admit, the way his eyes smiled was very attractive. “No, you will not be cursed. But unless you are skilled at rowing, you may also take a very long time to cross the lake! May I take you across? My boat is just along here--”

I grabbed Katie’s sleeve in warning, but I shouldn’t have worried. She was already pasting on a polite smile and coming up with a vague excuse. “You know, it’s really late already, and I promised my boyfriend I’d spend some time with him tonight.” I thought she said the “boyfriend” part unnecessarily loudly, but w/e. “Come on--” She very nearly said my name and then caught herself. “Come on, let’s head home.”

“I am sorry to say farewell to you both,” Lord Julian said, not appearing particularly upset. “Perhaps some other time.”

Katie and I gave big, noncommittal smiles and hurried back along the shore.

When we got out of earshot, I asked her why I wasn’t supposed to give Lord Julian my name. “Because that’s a fairy thing,” she explained. “If they have your real name, they have power over you."

“What kind of power?”

“Magical power,” Katie said shortly. “Not-good power. Is he following us?”

He wasn’t, and we soon made our way back to the stairway.

So we know a little bit now about the palace on the other side of the lake, but I’m not sure if we should try to cross over the lake or not. What do you folks think? Katie and I are both on the fence about this, and about what to do next. My ask box is open, and you can always leave tags, replies and comments! I would really appreciate the advice.

[airplanned]

All the Trashy Novels Part 30

This was fun, y’all.  Thanks for humoring me!

Part 1...Part 29

***

She spent four days mostly standing in front of the Goddess statue, trying to glow without requiring something inappropriate to trigger it.  She could now get it every single time with very minimal effort, but that effort was usually Link coming up behind her and placing a kiss where her neck met her shoulder, or trailing his fingers from the inside of her elbow to her wrist.  And suddenly her skin was lit up like a camp fire, a fuzzy pleasure brushing over her like a thin blanket.  It was embarrassing and frustrating, but at least she could trigger it without an orgasm and could hold her luminous state for long stretches once she got it going.

"That's true," Link agreed.  He'd taken a seat on the ground with his arms resting on his bent knees.  "You just need to work on not making that face."

Zelda huffed, her arms flopping to her sides and her glow spluttering out.  "I'm trying!"

The problem was that now that she'd allowed herself to feel affection for Link, she always felt a little giddy and ridiculous when she did so.  Apparently, this manifested not only in a divine luminescence, but also in a love-struck look on her face.  Link referred to it as "bedroom eyes" when he was being polite, and "fuck me face" when he wasn't.  He'd taken a bunch of pictures to show her, and he was (annoyingly) correct.  She could not make that face in public.

"Maybe you'd look less sultry if you closed your eyes," he said.

"Then I wouldn't be able to see anything!"

"Can you use your Goddess powers to see things?"

"I can use my Goddess powers to glow!  They don't do anything else!"

"Are they supposed to?"

"I don't know!"

"Try it."

She closed her eyes and tried it.  She remembered the warm pressure in her chest and she remembered the heat of his breath on her skin and she thought about how he he'd made her a tiny little cake the night before and then blushed as she'd gushed over it.  Those were things that she liked about him.  Those were good things, and she felt a way about them.

The glow didn't light.  

Why not?  Those had made her feel things.  She felt things.  Things for Link.  She took another breath and pushed into less appropriate territory, of the way he'd wrapped around her back the night before and let his hands wander until she was moaning with abandon and glowing, burning.

"You got it?"  His hands came to rest on her hips, and her eyes popped open as she lit up.

Goddess, she hated that he could do that. She batted the thought away, and held tighter to her lust.  Goddess, she liked his hands on her.

He looked taken aback, almost awed.  Even though he was expecting it.  Even though he'd seen it dozens of times now.  

Part of why she needed to get her face under control was that it affected Link so.

He swallowed hard.  "Close your eyes.  Let's see if that...oh."  His voice turned rough.  "Oh, that's so much worse."

He pulled her in at the waist and kissed her desperately.

#

Link made himself scarce as she wrote up her field notes.  She had very little to write.  She'd made very little progress.

In frustration, she tossed her journal away.  She would just have to have Link come touch her when he was done battling Ganon.  Maybe he could magically poke her with his index finger as if she were the Sheikah slate.  And they most likely would evacuate the area, so it wouldn't matter if she had on her come-hither face.  Link would just have to deal with not making out with her for however long it took to seal the Calamity away.  And who cared if she made a face?  If making a face saved the world, no one would be allowed to say anything.

Except Zelda cared.  She didn't want to look ridiculous, and she didn't want to rely on Link to access her own powers.  She glared at her journal.

Where was Link anyway?

She stomped off to go glare at him.  Or go have him be gentle and compassionate until she had too much trouble holding onto her irritation.

She found him before the Goddess statue, his head bowed, the sword drawn with its tip resting against the ground.

She frowned harder.  "Are you praying?" she asked.

He startled and spun around.  "Oh.  Yeah.  Um.  You haven't been praying lately, so I've had to...pray by myself."

An old, familiar hurt settled over her. Of course he was on such good terms with the Goddess, when she was...she was...

She was working on her relationship with the Goddess.  She understood that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt, and it didn't mean she wasn't still upset that she couldn't fully access her powers without the help of someone the Goddess liked.

Link looked nervous, as if he knew she was about to shout at him again.  Guilt lanced at her stomach.  She lowered her eyes and stepped near him.  

"What do you pray for?" she asked quietly.

"Um.  Nothing?"

She snorted.  "You pray for me."

He didn't say anything, which confirmed it.

"Show me," she said.  She turned him back to face the Goddess, and slipped her way into his arms, her back to his chest.  She placed her hands over his as they planted the sword to the ground.

He held himself stiff with discomfort, but then relaxed his arms under hers and lowered his head.  "Close your eyes," he murmured.  

Well, this was her idea.  She closed her eyes and lowered her head.

"I pray for you to have some guidance," he said.  "Because you desperately want to please her, and you want to do it right, but all you have to go on are rumors and what you're ordered to do by people who don't know what they're doing either.  I pray for some sign that you're on the right path.  Not because I want to know, because I know you'll get there.  But for you.  You need assurance or your self-doubt eats at you, and there's no way that self-doubt will save Hyrule.

"And I pray for you to be happy.  Because you're beautiful when you're sad and you're beautiful when you're angry, but I would die to see you smile.  To hear you laugh.  The way you carry yourself when you're at ease, the excited way you talk when you catch onto something new.  That light in you could light the whole world.  It could burn away the Calamity."

"You're a charmer," she murmured.

"You're a peach."

She snorted.  "You don't pray like I do."

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't tell the Goddess all that."

"Why not?"

Why not?  "Because she already knows?"

"But maybe she wants to hear you say it."

"She wants me to wax poetic about a girl?" she teased.

"Wax poetic about what you love."

"Love is a strong word."

"And you're asking for a powerful weapon."

Her eyebrows furrowed.  In a small voice she asked, "What should I pray for?"

He thought for a moment.  "Why do you want to save Hyrule?"

"Because it's my--" 

Duty.

She startled.  The answer had rolled off her tongue.

Anxiety she couldn't name clawed at her chest.  She shifted uncomfortably.  Maybe standing like this had been a bad idea.

"She'd like to hear you say it."

Her breath shook.  "I want to save my people.  My friends.  Urbosa and Revali and Mipha and Daruk.  They're so devoted and encouraging.  If they fell, then their people would suffer.  All the brilliance of our people would falter, all compassion and the triumphs.  The wonderful art and music and literature--"

"Even the bad literature."

"Especially the bad literature!  And the bad music!  All the ridiculous rumors, and the guards who devour those rumors, and all the fake girlfriends out there.  We would lose all of that!  And as shameful as it is, I would fight for those things."

"What else would you fighting for?"

"The Sheikah technology.  You don't know the victory you feel when two pieces snap together.  The thrill when a guardian lights blue under my hands.  The way Robbie nods along when I ramble and then picks up my thoughts and runs with them, taking them somewhere new, and the I can pick them up again and run farther.  The way Purah grabs my arm the moment I walk into the lab.  The way she drags me to a diagram and asks my opinion.  As if I'm wanted!  As if I'm needed!"

The sword flared under her hands, a ringing note at the base of her skull, and her eyes flew open at the call for attention.

She was glowing.  A warm pressure burned in her chest, and she grabbed hold of it to maintain it.

"What--"

"Things you care for," Link murmured.

She turned her head to look at him in surprise and confusion.

The corner of his mouth quirked.  "You're not making the face."

"How long have I been glowing?"

"Since you declared your love for trashy novels."

"Love is a strong word."

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. 

"But,” she said, “I need a strong weapon.”

His eyes darkened.  “You’re making the face again.”

When she kissed him, it was bright and sharp as the sun.

[the-broken-truth]

How about a very sick Donna x reader? 🏠👨

Broken Truth (Raises eyebrow): Who's sick? (Shrugs) If you can't choose then just do both, Broken. Let the words weave together!

- Donna with Sick S/O (They Don't Live Together) -

When you didn't come to Beneviento Manor for your morning cup of tea with Donna, she knew something was up - no matter how busy you were you would always come to the manor around a certain time to drink tea with Donna and speak with Angie before going into the village to do your own thing.

Donna and Angie almost ran out of the house, down the path, and into the village until they reached your house and knocked on the door - you didn't answer.

Now Donna and the Doll were getting worried.

Luckily - you had given Donna a spare key to your house just in case of emergencies and this was an emergency if she ever saw one.

She opened the door and walked inside, instantly calling for you - instead of hearing your voice respond to hers, she heard a very horrible cough coming from your bedroom.

She and Angie rushed into the room and their eyes widened at the sight - you were laying in your bed, body wrapped like a soft taco with your head sticking out, and your face was as pale as the snow that covered the village grounds.

"What happened?!" The dollmaker asked as she rushed to your side just as you finished cough and looked at her with a weak smile, your face pale and dripping sweat.

"Sorry for not coming to morning tea, my darling - it would seem that I have come down with a very horrible fever." You tried to smile but the moment you moved your lips, you felt another coughing fit come along and turned away from Donna and Angie to let the coughs out.

Donna wasn't standing for this - her precious one was sick and she was not just going to stand there.

The Dollmaker marched out of the room and closed the door behind her - leaving a very confused [Y/N] behind, who just tilted their head at Donna's sudden exit.

After a while, Donna came back into the room with a small wagon of things - medicines, small towels, thick blankets, a bucket of warm water, and...

*SNIFF* *SNIFF*

'Is that The Duke's Chicken Noodle Soup?' your tired mind questioned.

Donna walked over to the bed and wrapped you in so many blankets that you looked like a pig in a blanket with head out.

She placed a warm towel on your forehead and took the bowl of noodle soup and spoon-fed you herself.

After eating, she gave you some of the medicine and the taste was bitter but she promised that it would have you back to normal in no time and you trusted the word of the woman who had your heart in her own.

She sat beside your bed for the entire time you were sick, even though you were concerned that she might catch a cold as well.

Her response?

"I care not if I fall ill, my beloved is sick and I'm going to take care of you. Also, once you are well enough, you're going to move into Beneviento Manor so that I can keep a closer eye on you."

She had that tone in her voice - the one she used when she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Once again, who were you to deny the woman who had your heart?

...Not like you had a choice.

- Sick Donna with S/O (They Live Together) -

It was time for breakfast and the tea was on the table - but there was one - well, two things - missing: The Lord of House Beneviento & Her Doll Counterpart.

Jogging up the stairs and into the room of the dollmaker - you found her in her blanket burrito form with a very concerned doll by her side.

"What in the name of Mother Miranda is going on?" You asked as you walk into the room, Angie runs up to you.

"Donna isn't feeling well." The doll said.

Program Uploaded: MAKE DONNA FEEL BETTER!!!

You instantly turned on your heel and ran back down the stairs and Angie went back to watching the Dollmaker.

After a while, the spouse of Donna Beneviento reentered the room with a mountain of items in their hands; from blankets and towels to fresh soup and medicine, and...

"HOW THE HELL ARE YOU BALANCING A BUCKET OF WATER ON YOUR HEAD?!" Angie yelled, making the dollmaker shrink into her blanket with a groan & the doll apologized.

"Anything is possible when it's for the one you love more than life itself, Angie."

Donna was fed delicious soup.

She was wrapped in more blankets than she knew were in her house, so where did they all come from?

A warm towel was placed on her forehead.

And she was given meds that made her body feel a bit less full of lead.

Donna opened her eye and looked at her spouse as they sat on a still and looked at her with compassion in their eyes. She told them they didn't need to just sit there, that she would call or send Angie to find them if she needed something but all she got was a shaking head.

"The only way I am leaving you is when you are better."

Such a romantic...

And Donna loved that about them.

[End]

[mrkcore]

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐧.𝐣𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: na jaemin x f!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: jaemin as DC’s nightwing/dick greyson, hero!jaemin

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re the one picking him up, piece by piece, even when you’re gone.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): profanity, character deaths, blood, gun use

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k (woopwoop!)

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: ghost of you - 5sos, lie to me - 5sos, woke up in japan - 5sos, want you back - 5sos, more - 5sos, better man - 5sos, moving along - 5sos, thin white lies - 5sos, red desert - 5sos, lonely heart - 5sos, high - 5sos (just me being 5 seconds of summer trash)

𝐚/𝐧: part of @nct-writers​ collab, the heartbreak hotel (this is probably the longest fic i’m ever going to write, so pls gimmie feedback i will love you forever)

“imagine you're watching a runaway trolley barreling down the tracks straight towards five workers who you do not know and can't escape. you happen to be standing next to a switch that will divert the trolley onto a second track. here's the problem. that track has a worker on it, too, just one, but they’re not a stranger. what do you do? do you sacrifice that one person to save five?”

jaemin regrets being the hero in the story. 

jaemin regrets everything.

he constantly ponders the situation playing out where he wasn’t the protagonist. people have always said, “a hero would sacrifice you to save the planet, but a villain would sacrifice the planet to save you”. jaemin always thought that was bullshit, but now he knows the despairing truth. 

he regrets, he regrets, he regrets. but regret won’t bring you back.

you seemed so sure when you told him to let you go and it’d be okay, it wasn’t his fault. how was it so easy for you to think and say that? not his fault? he was basically the reason you’re dead. he just found you after so many years, now you’re gone again; but this time, it’s for real, forever.

jaemin remembers the cold tiny room he was forced to sleep in with the other children in the circus. 

it was a nightmare every single day. with kids screaming, singing, laughing, and running around the room, nobody could get any sleep. what made it worse was that jaemin had no one to talk to. 

none of the other boys liked him, being handsome, dubbed the “face of haly’s circus”, always talking behind your back how the boss always favoured him because he was bringing so many more views in. girls swarming around jaemin ever since him and his parents ever joined, it was so obvious that he was the most popular. jaemin never liked the attention, he was only trying to survive after all.

then, you arrived. 

y/n, the confounding witch, they called you. 

conjuring up little tricks for audience members, brewing up drinks to transform participants into different species of animals, and controlling birds in cages were only a few acts you could do.

the first day boss introduced you to everyone, you seemed so bright and excited to be joining. your unique eye smile, bubbly personality, and caring nature drew jaemin to you. he’s seldomly trying to calm the younger kids down so everyone can rest, but your patience and compassion towards the kids were something they weren’t used to, and eventually caved in.

soon, it became quieter in that god awful room jaemin always dreaded. but jaemin's heart beat louder in his chest than ever.

jaemin was never one to show off. like we established before, the attention jaemin got was not appreciated by him. except, it became different when you arrived.

he was constantly trying to impress you, sway you, hoping the things he did for the crowds of girls that rushed to buy tickets to see him, would work for you too.

however, that was just his wishful thinking.

you were unlike any of the interactions jaemin had with the opposite gender. you were confident, yet humble, witty, intelligent, and easy-going. he is constantly flustered whenever he is engaging in a conversation with you, but tries to act nonchalant whenever he knows you’re nearby.

after shows, girls screamed and bolted towards the entrance where jaemin stood for exit duty, to say goodbye to patrons. he’d always try to be paired with you for it, trying to make you jealous. 

but of course that never happened. jaemin would always be trampled by his enthusiastic female supporters, as surges of them stopped to interact with him. flirting with them all at the same time, they all swooned over your charms. he’d always see you giggle, laughing at his bursts of confidence he’d never have with you by yourselves. 

this continued for a year, until one day, you let something slip.

“ladies, ladies, i’m so glad you could join us for today.” jaemin smiled at the groups in front of him, glancing at you walking an elderly couple out of the tent. “make sure to take good care of yourselves, wouldn’t want anything happening to any of you sweet gals.” and cue the squeals. 

“hope you had fun pretty boy.” you directed to him calmly, as you walked back into the circus. jaemin’s head snapped to stare at your back. he’s stunned, did you just call him a “pretty boy”? 

remembering that the crowd in front of him was still there, he reacted quickly.

“i guess it’s time for me to go, i’ll catch you lovely girls at my next show, i hope.” he leaves with a wink, following your path straight towards you. 

finding you in your little assigned room, jaemin barged in, gaze fixated right on you, not even thinking what to say.

“oh, jaemin, hey.” you say, not even batting an eye, you’re focused on the book in your hands. “what’s up?”

“you called me pretty boy.” he breathed out. 

“yeah i did,” you’re still not paying attention to him. “what about it?”

“you think i’m pretty?” jaemin is suddenly very close to you, his hand caressing your face, lifting your line of sight up to meet his gaze. 

his eyes are sparkling, cheeks a slight tint of pink, with a look of determination. of course you thought he was pretty, anyone who said otherwise would either be lying, or have never seen his gorgeous face.

jaemin must’ve been acting impulsively, because when he realized how close he was to your face, he immediately pulled back.

“i am so sorry,” he says in disbelief. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“it’s okay,” you smile at him, grabbing his hand to where it was before. “i liked it.”

jaemin is flustered again, standing completely frozen as he admires your face up close. 

you’re breathtakingly beautiful. he’s known that you were attractive, but this just created even more butterflies in his stomach. 

“and yes, i do think you’re pretty.” you wink at him.

and that’s where it started.

you and jaemin started spending time together more.

jaemin was still a bit nervous and frenzied at the beginning, but that melted away, and his flirty, outgoing, and annoyingly confident side was revealed to you.

you were also quite popular amongst the other boys in the circus, so when you two were seen more frequently together, they started spreading rumours about jaemin to get you two away from each other.

“oh jaemin’s just trying to use them.”

“jaemin thinks after getting with them, he’s going to cross all of the names off his list.”

“he’s such a player, y’n’s too good for him.”

of course you’d hear them more often than him, the guys would always say these kinds of things around you.

but you know they’re just trying to stir up trouble. so you ignore them. 

just like how jaemin ignores the talk about you amongst his female supporters.

“she’s trying to take him away from us.”

“he’s not as happy anymore.”

“she thinks she’s all that, he’s probably just a new notch in her belt.”

of course jaemin would never listen to them. they’d never know about the secrets you had together, sneaking out of your rooms and sitting on the roof at night stargazing, your note exchanging, late night talks; they knew none of that. 

“i wish things weren’t like this,” you sighed, leaning on his shoulder as you two look at the early sunrise. “i wish we could be free and do whatever we want. this is so unfair.”

jaemin has never really thought about that. every day, his head was flooded with you. but now he thinks about it, it truly was unfair.

jaemin wishes he could take you on on real dates, take you on meaningful trips to explore the rest of the world. not hidden in this awful place where you could barely talk to each other in public. jaemin wishes he could give you more.

“it’s not your fault nana,” you look up at him like you’ve read his mind and know he’s overthinking. “there’s nothing you can do.”

“yeah,” jaemin exhales. “i know.” he tries to smile when you reach up to caress his face, you look at him with so much fondness, jaemin’s worries are almost all blown away. but you know he’s going to be pondering about this for the next week.

“maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our wicked fate.”

but all the gossip got to the point where the boss heard about it, and asked you guys to talk in his office.

“i think we should end it here.” you say one night on the roof, seemingly out of the blue.

“what?” jaemin is speechless, where did that come from? did he hear you wrong?

“he literally asked us to talk,” you’re facing the ground, not even daring to look at him. “it’s serious this time.”

“so you’re going to just throw all of this away?” jaemin asks, slightly furious. “just because of what a bunch of losers are saying?”

“it’s for the best,” you’re still not looking at him. “for the both of us.”

when you finally do look up to see jaemin’s reaction, you see tears in his eyes and you wish you hadn’t looked up.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” jaemin turns around and walks away, breaking that silence.

but what jaemin didn’t know was that it broke your heart to pieces. it took you so much courage to break it off with him, but in the end, you knew what boss haly was capable of. you needed to protect him, so if this is how it needed to go, it’s for the best.

the meeting the next day went smoothly, it was easy for both of you to deny everything since jaemin was giving you the cold shoulder. you didn’t need to pretend. it was for the sake of the both of you.

after the meeting, you didn’t get the chance to talk to jaemin as he rushed to get ready for his special act today. but it’s not like he would listen to you anyways, you couldn’t blame him.

you felt the aura of the circus today, it felt off. very off. 

maybe it was because you were so shaken by you and jaemin's fight. maybe it was nothing, and you were just overreacting. everything was probably fine.

except it wasn’t.  

as all of the spectators settled into their seats, when you tried to peak through the curtain to see the turnout, and as expected, it was packed.

but something catches your eye. a black raven flies in, the ambience in the tent suddenly changes so fast if gives you whiplash. this isn’t good. this isn’t good at all. something bad is going to happen, really bad. 

you’ve never seen that bird in your entire life, and it suddenly hits you.

someone is going to die tonight.

you pray and pray it’s going to be fine, but the unsettling energy gets to you. you need to tell someone.

“jaemin, jaemin!” you call out to him. he turns around, but when he sees you, his face turns sour. your heart sinks, but what you’re about to tell him is more important, so you brush it away.

“what do you want.” he snarls, you gulp back a sob. 

“something bad’s going to happen, i can feel it.” tears are threatening to spill out of you eyes. “someone’s going to die, and i don’t know what to do.”

“oh, so now you care?” jaemin rolls his eyes. “are you jealous that it’s my show tonight and all of those girls front row are here to see me and think they have a chance with me?” you’re shocked by his words, your eyes are wide. you never thought he was capable of saying something like that. “you’re just a little witch, and it’s all just an act. let it go.” tears stream down your face as jaemin huffs and walks away, strutting into the crowd as the ringmaster announces their act: “the flying greysons!”.

and jaemin was wrong. you were right. something awful happened that day.

jaemin watches helplessly as his parents’ high wires snaps and they pummel to their death. 

you were right. and he couldn’t do anything about it.

jaemin runs away that night as he leaves you in that horrible place by yourself, and you never see him again.

and here jaemin is. 10 years after the incident, a college student by day, leader of a crime fighting superhero team by night.

after the incident of his parents’ death, mr. jung jaehyun finds him on his path. crying, sobbing, and vulnerable. jaehyun takes jaemin in under his wing. providing him shelter, food, and as much support as he could. jaemin slowly realized jaehyun’s second identity: batman. 

jaemin has heard of jaehyun’s street name. but he’d never thought that he’d meet him in real life, and batman would be someone so similar to him. jaehyun saw a reflection of his younger self, the grief of losing your parents, the reality check of the world being a cruel place at a young age, he didn’t want jaemin to spiral in the same way he did. 

so even though jaemin lived a life of normalcy, his past never stopped coming back to haunt him. 

especially you.

jaehyun dug up some information about the circus, and piles and piles of their dark secrets were revealed. so did the truth of jaemin’s parents’ deaths too. how a well-known and feared crime-lord, threatened the circus unless the owner paid extortion money. boss haly refused, and that night someone messed with the equipment for the performance, resulting in the catastrophe. 

you were right all along, and jaemin didn’t listen to you. it was his fault, everything was his fault.

he even left you there by yourself, all alone, and he never got to say goodbye. oh how wishes he could see you one last time, and say all those things he wanted to these years. 

nightmares woke him throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and even sometimes during his college time.

the same dream over and over, you reaching your hand out for jaemin to grab and save, but he’s too far away. and you fade away. 

inspired by what jaehyun did to help him, jaemin started to do the same. 

with a bunch of lost and uncared for young kids in new york, jaemin took them under his wing like jaehyun did with him.

with help from trusted individuals he met on the street, mark, renjun, jeno, and haechan, they started to take care of chenle and jisung full time. getting them off the street, given proper shelter, food, water, clean clothes, and access to education, this was the start of the dreamies. 

today was the same as any other.

jaemin’s philosophy and law studies class has just finished up and he’s walking to his favourite cafe to finish up some work.

“jaemin?” he hears a familiar voice behind him. 

he turns around and sees you. you haven’t changed a bit, still as homely and comforting as he can remember.

is he in a dream right now? how is this possible? 

“oh gosh, it really is you.” you laughed, the same laugh you had. jaemin feels this unknown warmth and reassurance with you here, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. your eyes glimmer, looking at him affectionately.

“yep, right here in the flesh.” jaemin starts tearing up. “oh you big baby, why are you crying?”

jaemin pulls you in as he hugs your waist.

surprised by his emotional state, you were going to speak up again. but you choose not to. standing there, a bit awkwardly, stroking his soft hair, embracing him.

and you’re back. 

jaemin learns that you recently moved to new york city recently for your journalist job position, and you’re looking for a place to move in to.

he’s quick to offer his place, even though he’s still in college, his apartment is big enough for two people.

“are you sure?” you’re hesitant to accept his suggestion. “i don't want to be a big burden. you’re probably really busy as a student.”

“no, i’m fine.” he responds, enthusiastically. “my schedule is pretty much free since i’m third year now.”

and you accept. saying you’re only going to crash for a while until you found another place.

cherishing the time you had together, during the day, jaemin went to his lectures while you went to work, but when you got home, you did everything together. to the point where jaemin barely saw the dreamies, his crime-fighting crew.

staying up to watch the stars and sunrise, talking and laughing until your eyes were threatening to close. conversing about literally anything. 

but as time went by, you noticed that jaemin didn’t really want to talk about what happened back at the circus. you understood since he lost his parents that night, but he never asked you about how you left and ended up in new york. but you don’t push it, you understand that it’s a rough patch in both of you guys’ lives. 

“do you have anything that you regret?” you ask one night, you truly were just curious.

“not listening to you that night.” he says, monotone. “and leaving you by yourself at the circus when i ran away.”

“jaemin…” you start, but no words leave your mouth.

“fuck!” jaemin abruptly exclaims, mood crashing, turning furious. “it’s all that bastard haly’s fault.”

you shouldn’t have asked.

“if he didn’t make that fucking circus, everything would have been fine! it’s his fault, all his fault, i’m going to get revenge and kill that son-of-a-bitch one day!” he’s yelling now. “we could have met in normal circumstances, we could’ve gotten married, created a family, enjoyed life like all of these snarky city folk. why?”

you wipe the tears that are rolling down his face as he turns to cry in your chest. 

“i’m sorry i brought this up.” you pat his head as his sobs turn into soft snores, head in your lap. “maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.” 

it’s been a year now. it doesn’t seem like you’re moving out anytime soon, but jaemin’s not complaining. he loves having you here, you’ve become a standard part of his day. 

with jaemin more adapted to your appearance, he has started to become more involved with the dreamies.

helping 10-15 kids each month, the squad has advanced to milestones jaemin never thought it’d be at. he is so thankful to have the group and you there supporting him.

you’ve even discussed marriage. 

“y/n na has a nice ring to it, y’know.” jaemin beams.

“you’re such a softie.” you giggle out, but jaemin knows you like it. 

jaemin knows you want to wait until you have a stable job and when he graduates, but the thought always makes him elated. 

“what song would you play for our first dance at out wedding?” he asked one morning, waking up to the sun shining heavenly on you.

“hmm,” you grin. “best part, daniel caesar, h.e.r.”

“you’re perfect.” jaemin kisses your face as you cuddle into his warm chest.

imagining you in a white dress, walking up to the alter on your wedding day, saying your vows, slow dancing. you’re the only person jaemin has visioned a future with, and the only person jaemin wants a future with. 

the next day, you agree to slow dance with him in the living room.

jaemin is on cloud nine.

but like the old saying, all good things must come to an end. 

it’s been 5 years now.

jaemin comes home one night to the apartment door open, which is really unusual.

jaemin thinks it might be a robbery, but nothing is stolen, the apartment looked the same as it was when he left this morning.

but you’re nowhere to be found. jaemin isn’t panicked, maybe you went on a walk and forgot to close the door–

there’s a note on the dining room table.

“meet me on the top of the empire state building to see y/n, if you bring someone else, it’ll be for the last time.”

what is that supposed to mean?

was it one of the dreamies’ past enemies trying to get back at them? 

nonetheless, jaemin is bolting out the door.

when he gets there, he sees the dreamies tied up, sitting and struggling at the feet of someone jaemin never thought he’d see ever again. c.c. haly, the owner of haly’s circus jaemin escaped a whole decade ago.

haly smirks as he sees jaemin approaching, but jaemin is scowling. 

“what are you doing here?” jaemin snaps out, carefully advancing.

“i’m here to finish what you started.” haly says.

“how did you even find me?” jaemin snarls, stopping a fair distance between him and haly. “how did you find my friends?”

unexpectedly, haly starts to cackle loudly at his questions. turning around to reveal someone who has been absent, someone jaemin would never have thought of.

you. 

jaemin’s mind is internally crashing. why are you with haly? what is going on?

“y/n, do you want to explain to our dear jaemin here what’s going on?” haly finds so much amusement playing with you both, watching this event unfold.

“jaemin, i’m so sorry.” your lips are trembling, tears are starting to flood your vision.

“so it was all a lie?” jaemin can’t believe it. “everything that happened this year, it was just you building up to just stab me in the back?”

“i did it to protect you.” you’re sobbing hard now.

“save it.” jaemin cuts you off, now focusing on haly. “what do you want.”

“i want you dead.” haly says, blankly. 

“so what’s the deal.” the dreamies’ mouths were duct taped, but their muffled cries can still be heard.

haly is howling again.

“i get to kill you,” haly grins sinisterly. “and i let y/n and your little friends free.”

“if jaemin says yes, let me say one last thing to him.” your crying has stopped. “it’s the least you can do.”

jaemin is confused. are you just offering him up to haly with no fight? what are you thinking?

you look at him with pleading eyes, asking him to trust you. 

the same eyes he saw that day his parents died, and he knows to trust you.

“okay,” jaemin states boldly. “i say yes. now let y/n talk to me.”

haly is stunned. how did you convince jaemin to agree so quick? maybe haly was right to use you this time. the least he could do is to let jaemin and you have time to still pretend to be in love. so haly allows you to walk up to jaemin to talk.

“y/n, what are you doing.” jaemin whispers frantically.

“trust me, trust me this time.” you glance at him with weary eyes. “when i’m walking back to haly, when i signal to you, i want you to grab your friends and run. can you do that for me?” 

“what?” jaemin tries not to react to much that haly catches on, but do you hear what you’re suggesting? “you want me to just leave you here again?”

“jaemin listen to me, i’ll be fine. trust me.”

and you turn around, not letting jaemin respond.

there’s nothing he can do but go along with your plan.

and when you signal to him behind your back, jaemin grabs the dreamies and drags them away. everything is a whirlwind and happens in a flash. jaemin looks back and you’re struggling trying to get the gun out of haly’s hand. 

you notice jaemin stopping.

“jaemin, fucking RUN.” you scream at him.

there’s nothing he can do. and he hates himself that he got himself in this situation again. so he runs again, like the coward he is.

jaemin runs, because literally the dreamies’ lives are depending on him. when he gets them to safety, when he unties jeno, jeno pushes him towards where they came from.

“go.” jeno is huffing trying to catch his breath after removing the duct tape off his mouth. “i’ll untie everyone else, go get her.”

jaemin looks at jeno, and turns back for you.

when jaemin arrives back at the scene, you’re on the ground. he runs panic-stricken to you, finding you bleeding out really hard. 

“y/n? y/n, y/n please, are you okay?” he’s shaking you, distraught seeing you in this state.

“jaemin, i’m okay.” you say, barely any breath left in you. “i have the gun here, haly is behind the big box over there.”

“y/n, what are you talking about, we need to get you to the hospital.” jaemin tries to pick you up but you don’t allow him.

“use the gun and kill him.” you mutter out, quieter than before. “it’s what you wanted, jaemin. and he’ll be gone.” you’re smiling softly just thinking about it.

“y/n, are you insane? you’re going to die i could care less about haly, i’m taking you to the hospital–”

“jaemin let me go.” you mumble, stroking his cheek while you’re examining his pretty face for the last time. “it’ll be okay, it’s not your fault.”

“y/n…” jaemin’s tears are staining his shirt as he holds you tightly, trying to preserve your life.

“i love you, na jaemin.” a tear falls from your dazed gaze and trickles down your cold face. “i’m sorry that this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

and you’re gone. 

jaemin screams. tears dripping down his face, he picks up the gun beside you and storms towards haly.

he’s basically sitting in a pool of his own blood and has no strength to get up anymore.

“is little greyson here to get revenge for his parents and little witch y/n?” he cackles even in the last moments of his life.

“yeah i am, they didn’t die for you to see another day too.”

haly is laughing sadistically again as if jaemin just told a joke, but the laughter subsides after the bullets fire through haly’s limp body. 

and he’s dead too. leaving jaemin alone, again. 

it’s been 2 years since you’ve died.

here he is, waking up. still can’t sleep on your side.

he really can’t sleep on your side, because it reminds him of those times where he woke up to your warm embrace, and now it’s desolately cold.

there’s your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time.

he’s saved everything you had, and hasn’t touched anything. he’s also saved everything you shared, your bed, your apartment, everything. he needs those to remind him of those bittersweet memories of you.

when jaemin was going through your stuff, he finds a piece of paper on your work desk.

my dear jaemin,

when you find this, i’m probably going to be gone. but that’s okay, and i’ll tell you why.

first of all, thank you so much for these past 5 years. thank you for showing me what living life is like, what being a part of a family is like, and what being in love is like. you told me you wished you could give me a normal life, and you really fulfilled your wish. 

you must have so many questions right now, so i’m going to answer them.

i never left haly’s after you ran away. i couldn’t. because he was threatened by so many mobs and gangs everywhere, he had to kill off the other people that were a part of the circus. but he kept me. because i was the key to you. the government started an investigation into him, and he needed to keep a low-profile, but he still was angry that you didn’t die that night too. so he plotted this for years, and i just had to go along with it.

at first, i only agreed because i wanted to see you. i was young and still naive at the time, thinking that he wanted to see you too. but as i got older, i saw what he was planning. he would kill me in front of you and then take you out as well if i didn’t do as he said, so i kept quiet. i really did this to protect you.

i enjoyed every second being with you. you showed me the meaning of life i heard our patrons talk about. you showed me what true love was when i saw those elderly couples walking together as they look at each other adoringly while telling me they’ve been in love and married for decades. if i could choose to stay with you for a lifetime, i would, i would choose it a million times.

but i thought very long about this, and it truly is the only way.

remember when i asked you if you regretted anything that night? you mentioned how you regretted not listening to me, how you left me alone at the circus. and that’s when i realized, it was indeed our cruel fate.

you feel bad for me. you feel bad that you didn’t listen, you feel bad for leaving me at the circus, but it’s been over a decade. i know with me constantly here, you’re never going to stop feeling guilty, you’d never let the past go. we’re too young, too dumb, to know things like love. but i know better now. 

so jaemin, i did what i had to do. the best for the both of us. you got your revenge for your parents, and you’ll stop feeling guilty because i don’t want to hold you back and keep you feeling like this forever. 

i’m sorry jaemin i put you through all of this, and reminder that this is not your fault.

my love, nana, truly, truly, truly, thank you for everything. everything, everything, everything. 

there wasn’t a single day where i stopped wanting you. i want you in the most innocent form, i want to say goodnight to you and give you forehead kisses and say i love you when you feel at your worst. i want you in ways where i just want to be next to you and nothing more or less. i wish i could explain your eyes, oh how i adore your angel eyes, and how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. how your smile makes my heart skip a beat and how every time i’m with you, i feel so complete. i swear when our lips touched, i could taste the remaining years of my life. i want you to know that when i picture myself happy, it’s with you.

i’ve looked at you in millions of ways, and i have loved you in every way.

but this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.

my pretty boy, i love you forever.

his tears are ruining the page, and jaemin tries to wipe his tears away to save the letter.

when he turns around, he swears he can see you. and he chases it down, with a shot of truth.

maybe if he dreams long enough, you’d tell him he’d be just fine.

walking into the living room, remembering how you guys would slow dance like it was your wedding. your wedding. 

and he drowns it out, like he always does. dancing through your house, with a shot of truth, that his feet don’t dance, like the way they did with you.

jaemin knows your letter was right, he’s going to slowly get better, but he needs some time. meanwhile, he needs something help him cope, to get him by. 

so he’s dancing through your house, with the ghost of you.

©mrkcore, 2021.

[jeyramarie]

The forbidden zone- Pogue x OC

summary: It’s time to look for the wreck and the weather won’t stop them.

wc: 4,752

a/n: here it is! as requested 😁 @halsmultibitch and i have so so many ideas. we can’t wait for all of you to read it!! happy reading 🦋

prologue~ pilot~ the lucky compass

Previously on Good Life...

Lani had volunteered to climb into it since she was the smallest. Once inside she asked for a flashlight due to it being so dark. She looked around for a bit until she found an envelope leaned against the wall. 

“Oh my god.” she whispered as she stared at it. ‘To Bird.’ it read. 

John B stared at the envelope in adoration, perfectly knowing it was from his dad. JJ helped Lani out of the tomb as a cold breeze ran through the trees making her shiver. 

“Holy shit. This is from my dad.” He said and looked around as his friends while JJ lit his blunt, puffing some smoke. Suddenly, car headlights came into view coming their way. 

“Code red. Code red. Square groupers!” JJ said desperately as he walked backwards to his friends. 

“Oh my god, go.” Lani said, pulling Kie’s arm to hide next to the tomb. They all got down and fidgeted with their flashlights to turn them off. 

“Light!” 

“Turn it off, John B!” the curly haired kook exclaimed as she saw the pogue jam the flashlight up his shirt. JJ turned off his cigarette against the wall as they all stayed there quietly. The car came to a stop as a man climbed out.

“I think I see something!” He shouted to the other person in the car as JJ and Pope peeked their heads out, trying to see. 

“Is it them?” Lani whispered to the boys feeling fear in the pit of her stomach. 

“Homie’s got a gun.” JJ whispered as he turned back to lean against the wall. 

“Oh fuck this.” Fallon muttered as she stood up before running off. John B immediately followed, then Kie, Lani, JJ and finally, Pope. Everyone made it over the fence successfully until Pope’s pants got stuck. Of course he’s the one that gets stuck, classic Pope. 

“Guys, guys. I’m stuck!” He said as he desperately tried to free himself from the fence. 

“I got you, buddy.” Lani said as she came for his rescue alongside John B. They used all they’re strength to get him out causing the pants to start ripping. 

“Guys, you’re gonna rip me.” 

“Pope, don’t move okay?” JJ said as he held up his gun towards the pogue. 

“JJ, what the fuck? Put that down, man.” John B pushed his arm down making the blonde put the gun back in his cargo shorts. 

“No, no. You’re gonna rip me. No! You’re ripping me!” and with that Pope fell from the fence leaving his shorts hanging. 

“Oh my god.” Lani laughed as she walked backwards to get to the car. 

“Hey, it's a little Tootsie roll!” JJ shouted, making everyone laugh as they all ran to the car. Fallon opened the door waiting for them to get closer.

“Get in.” Kie laughed as she saw Pope climbing in in his underwear. 

“What the hell happened?” Fallon slid the door close and turned to Pope who was frowning in annoyance. 

“You don’t wanna know.” he groaned as he sat at the chair at the back of the van. They went back to the Chateau, quickly clearing a space to look at what the envelope had. JJ ran to the kitchen looking for food since he hasn’t eaten all day. He found some bread, some peanut and jelly making his eyes sparkle as his stomach growled. 

“That bread has had mold for like a week.” Lani said as she opened her water bottle to take a sip. 

“I’ll just pull off the bad parts. Plus, mold is good for you. It’s just a natural organism.” he said, picking up the sandwich and moving to take a bite off of it, receiving a disgusted look from the kook. 

“Guys!” Kie called as John B pulled out a map from the envelope. 

“We’re going.” Lani said walking out of the kitchen with JJ trailing behind her as he took a bite off the sandwich. 

“Mmm.” JJ muttered and then gagged as he spit out the piece of moldy bread. 

“Told you not to eat it.” The kook with her arms crossed made the pogue pull out the middle finger. The pogue opened the map to see coordinates, scribbled lines and an x. 

“Well, x marks the spot.” Fallon said, pointing her finger on the map. 

“Longitud, latitud… wait, there's something else in there.” John B said as he traced his finger along the lines before dropping it and picking up the envelope again. He reached in and pulled out a tape recorder. 

“What’s that?” JJ asked in confusion. 

“It’s a tape recorder, J.” Lani said, looking at him and chuckling a bit. The pogue held the recorder for a bit more and started playing it to reveal his dad’s voice. Big John talked about the Royal Merchant, how he found it. He actually found it, which was a huge surprise to everyone, including John B. Once the recorder stopped, the room was filled with silence until JJ broke it. 

“Holy shit, he found it! Big John…. He found the Merchant.” He lifted his arms in excitement as Lani stood up straight and forcefully lowered his arms.

“Can you not right now, JJ?” Fallon said, running her hand through her hair. John B stood up and leaned against the door as he began to cry. Kie went to his side and hugged him, giving him comfort as his tears continued to roll down his cheeks. 

A few hours later, everyone was found on the docks. Kie was playing her ukulele, Lani was sketching Pope and everyone else drinking beer in silence. 

“How much was it again?” JJ asked and sipped from his beer can before tossing it aside. 

“Four hundred mil.” Lani said never parting her eyes from the sketchbook as she erased the eyebrow to fix it’s arch. 

“All right, let’s talk split. Now, before we say “evenly” may I remind you that I am the only one that can probably defend us from those square groupers that were after us. Protection? Not cheap, okay?” He said, holding his gun up for everyone to see trying to make a point. 

“You haven’t trained. You’ve done zero training.” Fallon crossed her arms leaning against the railing. 

“Youtube, Fal.” he winked at the caramel haired pogue making her stick out her tongue making him chuckle. 

“You haven’t-” Pope started objecting when JJ cut him off.

“Any objections? Didn’t think so.” Lani and Kie were holding up their hands in objection but were ignored by the pogue.

“There’s a couple objections.” 

“I don’t hear any so…”

“Okay well, what are you gonna do with 66 mil Pope?” Fallon said, cutting him off and she sat down on the floor. 

“Pay for college in advance. And also, textbooks. Those are expensive.” 

“What about you, Kie?” 

“Yeah, what does a socalist do when she’s rich?” Lani asked, smirking at the pogue who chuckled at her question. 

“Just wanna make a double album. About the OBX, the pogues. You know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it in Marley studio, Peter Tosh producing. And before you say anything Pope, yes I know Peter Tosh is dead.” The pogue lifted his hands in surrender as he laughed at her last comment. 

“Lani? What about you?” John B asked, leaning back on his beach chair as he opened a new beer can. 

“I’m not sure what she would want. She’s already rich.” Fallon muttered under her breath making the kook frown as her face fell making her look at her sketchbook.

“Well, you’re rich too but you don’t see me making comments about it.” Everyone opened their eyes and muttered ‘ooo’s’ as Lani looked at John B to answer his question. 

“I wanna go to Italy, get a house by the beach. Not even a house, I want a cute little hud with a window facing the ocean. So, I can paint and eat all the pasta I can get.” she said and raised her beer can in the form of the toast before sipping from the cold beverage. 

“Fal, your turn.” JJ smiled, turning his head towards her as he fidgeted with his lighter. 

“I’m gonna leave Outer Banks. I’ve only felt trapped here. So, I wanna go and I don’t know… escape life, I guess.” John B nodded and lifted his beer can in agreement while the blonde pogue nodded too. 

“I know what I’ll do. I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook.” 

“Full kook?” “You are not going full kook.” Lani and Fallon said at the same time, making him laugh.

“Yes, full kook. I’m gonna get a big statue of myself and a koi pond with a bunch of fish.” He said making circular movements with his hands as he described the pond. 

“You know I’m never visiting right?” Kie said, placing her ukulele back on her lap. 

“What are you gonna do, John B?” Lani asked, leaning towards Pope, handing him the portrait she made. 

“To going full Kook.” he smiled as he stood up and held his beer can up causing everyone else to hold up their beverages too. 

“To going full Kook.” They hollered and laughed as the night went by smoothly. Lani was starting to feel like part of the group now which made her very happy since she was never the girl to have a bunch of friends. All of her ‘friends’ were the children of her parents' business partners, whom she never really liked. 

The next day came around, sunny as ever giving the pogues the perfect idea to go on a boat ride on the marsh. They got ready in record time with their swimsuits and the cooler filled with drinks and the ice Pope brought from his dad’s store. They picked up Kie at her house’s dock first and then Lani, who wasn’t far. As they sailed through the marsh, getting to their favorite spot, JJ spotted two kooks on their own new boat. 

“Holy shit. You guys see that? That’s the Malibu 24-MXZ, the world’s finest wakesetter. Number one in luxury, quality and performance. That’s 200k easy.” He said squinting his eyes behind his sunglasses moving his head to his friends and back at the kooks. 

“No, here comes Malibu Barbie and Ken.” Fallon tilted her head as she laughed at her joke. 

“You don’t have to act like you don’t see us, bitch.” Kie said as she looked at Sarah while the boats crossed paths. The blonde kook waved and smiled at Lani causing her to do the same thing.

“Of course, you wave at her.” the caramel haired pogue scoffed in annoyance.

“Says the one who’s friends with Rafe.” Pope muttered under his breath loud enough for the pogue to hear and blush.  

“She’s been nothing but nice to me. I have no hate against her.” The kook shook her head as she continued sketching. Most of the day was spent swimming, drinking and planning on how to get a computer with the Internet in order to find the coordinates from Big John’s map. After the marsh, they all went back to the Chateau to get dressed so they could begin their trip to the hotel JJ worked at. Everyone got into the van making their way to their destination as they jammed to Kie’s favorite reggae music and JJ’s classic rock playlist. 

“All right, we should keep a lookout. We’re behind enemy lines.” JJ said as he pulled his gun out from the glove department while they parked outside. 

“Come on, man. Just put it back.”John B said, turning off the car as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“What?”

“JJ-”

“You can never be too careful.” he muttered as the door slid open for Pope to climb out. 

“Bringing a gun to a four star hotel will cause more problems than actually solve.” The curly haired pogue said as he leaned against the door next to JJ. He muttered a ‘thanks’ before Lani popped her head in between John B and the blonde.

“JJ, put that shit away or I'll throw it in the ocean.” She said and quickly got out of the van as John B ripped the gun off of JJ’s hand, putting it back where it was. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Fallon shouted as she closed the van door ready to walk in.

“Wait! Can’t forget my badge.” the blonde pogue smiled and pulled out his employee ID.

“Professional busboy.” Kie rolled her eyes and continued to walk behind Lani who was already halfway to the entrance. They walked in through the back into the kitchen where a few of JJ’s co-workers said hi and asked him how he was doing, some eyeing Fallon which was an everyday occurrence for her. After going up a few stairs, they finally made it to the lobby and walked towards a semi secluded room with computers. 

“Sweet lord, the Internet.” Pope said, running towards the device almost like he was gonna hug and kiss it. 

“Let me get in there. Check on my insta models.” JJ said as he leaned down next to Pope making Lani chuckle as she sat down.

“What insta models?” Fallon questioned as her arms crossed over her chest.

“No one, no one.” he muttered, never parting his eyes from the screen. They started looking for the coordinates written on the map and found how deep that part of the ocean was. To get there, they needed some type of submarine to be able to find the Royal Merchant. JJ gave the idea of getting the drone at the salvage yard where his dad used to work. On the way to the salvage yard, Pope couldn’t help but comment on how real or fake this wild goose chase was. 

“So, what’s it gonna be? Fantasy or reality?” 

“Fantasy.” Fallon muttered as she rolled JJ’s blunt. 

“Fantasy but possible reality.” Kie stared at John B through the rear view mirror with sad eyes, feeling pity for her best friend. 

“Both.” Lani said rummaging through her bag as she placed her sketchbook and pencils back. 

“Virtual reality.” JJ groaned as he leaned forward to grab the blunt. 

“Reality.” the shaggy haired pogue said, turning his head to look at the kook sitting in the passenger seat. Lani stared at him and gave him a sad smile as the van came to a stop not too far from the salvage yard. They ran over the plan one more time, making sure everyone understood. Especially JJ, he had a tendency of improvising everything. Lani got out of the van first, throwing her bag over her shoulder as she crossed the street to Kie’s car. Fallon slid the van door open and stepped out but was held back by a muscular hand. 

“Can’t Kie go?” JJ asked worriedly not liking the idea of his lifelong crush distracting a man with her looks. 

“No, she can’t and it’s not like you care anyway.” she spat out as she pulled her hand away from the pogue, slamming the door shut. The kook was putting her things in the car, making sure everything was rightfully placed when she turned to ask the pogue a question.

“Hey, Kie did you see th- You’re not Kie.” Lani said as she noticed her partner for that crima wasn’t who she thought. 

“I’m not thrilled about this either but they made me, so let’s just get it over with.” the pogue said bitterly as she got in the passenger seat leaving the kook alone and confused. The short ride to the salvage yard was filled with tension and awkward silence. Neither of them know what to say. 

“Should I go call him or do you-”

“I’ll go.” Fallon spat dryly, cutting Lani off as she quickly got out of the car. The kook sat there staring at the pogue as she walked towards the gate giving her some time to sigh and think to herself ‘this is harder than i thought’. After a few seconds, the gates opened cueing her to get out of the car and stand by the flat tire. The rest of the pogues were hiding by the gates as they saw the scene unfold. 

“It’s not weird, awkward or anything.” John B whispered, never parting his eyes from the girls as he answered Pope’s question. 

“I told you she wasn’t into you.” Kie said suddenly which confused JJ more. 

“Who isn’t into you?”

“He kissed Fallon.” Pope whispered immediately, opening his eyes wide realizing what he had done. JJ’s nostrils flared as anger burst through his body. 

“Well, she can kiss whoever she wants. She’s not dating anyone.” he said with gritted teeth as he gripped the wood harder. 

“Yeah, it’s just us.” Lani smiled, answering the guard’s question while leaning against the boat. He stared at them for a long time, moving his eyes from their legs up to their faces and back to the tire. Suddenly, barks came from the yard making the guard stand up and turn to the gate. 

“Tebow’s got something.” 

“Oh no, I don't think so.” Fallon said, placing a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah, maybe it’s a racoon.” Lani nodded and smiled, giving the man enough reassurance to go back to the tire. They noticed that he was finishing way too fast which meant that the boys could get caught but luckily, Fallon had an idea. 

“Oh, I forgot to call my mom. I’ll be right back.” she said before disappearing around the boat making it look like she was grabbing her phone. When in reality, she was using a hairpin to deflate the other tire. Fallon stayed like that for a bit not realizing how long she took until she heard Lani’s protest to the guard. 

“No, she’s talking with her mom. Something private. Sh-she’s probably crying!” The kook shouted as the guard pushed her aside as saw Fallon defaulting the tire on purpose , giving him the realization of what was going on. He began walking backwards as the girls looked at him holding their hands up trying to keep him from running. But of course, that failed miserably as the man bolted towards the gate making the girls run to the inside of the car. 

“Shit! Shit! He’s gonna call the cops. We need to tell them.” Fallon closed the door and put her seat belt on as Lani turned on the car. 

“Just call Kie, we have to go.” and with that, she drove out of there leaving the pogues behind. After a while, they all met back at the Wreck feeling all of their stomachs growl. Kie immediately hugged her dad when he saw him as the pogues walked towards the tables. 

“Hey, Mike.” Lani waved sweetly as she walked towards the counter.

“Hey, how’s John doing?”

“Oh, he’s good. Just working with mom a lot.”

“That’s really nice. Can I get you anything?”

“Can I have the turkey sandwich? With fries?” she smiled, reaching into her purse to pull out her wallet. Mike nodded and walked away into the kitchen. Fallon stared at the whole interaction, feeling pissed on how Lani had “stolen” everything from her. The kook paid and left a $5 tip before walking towards the pogues, who were starting to sit down. 

The restaurant closed, only leaving them in there to eat. Kie turned up the radio as one of her favorite songs came on. She pointed at John B which resulted in them dancing. JJ stood up to throw something away when he saw Lani’s drawing, again. Giving him the perfect idea, to dance with her. 

JJ tapped her shoulder making her turn around as he extended his hand for her to grab. Lani timidly looked around and placed her hand on his, making him grab it immediately as he pulled her out of the chair. JJ started dancing with her as well as making funny faces to make her laugh. Fallon wasn’t laughing, at all. If looks could kill, there would be two dead bodies already. 

JJ swung her around and dipped as she laughed hysterically at the gesture since she has never really danced with anyone. As this all happened, Pope and Fallon sat drinking beers alone. He turned to her and raised his bottle to toast, making her chuckle. The bottles clinked together and they drank from it as the song ended. 

“Well, let’s get going guys.” John B announced as it was getting late. They threw away the wrappers and paper cups before stepping outside. Lani left with Kie since they lived close by to each other, which left Fallon with the boys.

“I think I’m gonna walk home.” she said as they got into the van.’

“You’re not gonna walk.” JJ refused, stepping out of the Twinkie.

“I am gonna walk. I need to think and some time alone.” and with that she walked away ignoring the pogue’s calls. 

“Just give her some space, man.” Pope said as he got in the Twinkie making JJ get back in and slam the door shut. Fallon walked hugging her figure as the cold night breeze went through the trees. She was reflecting on the day, about how Lani was actually nice to her but then her thoughts drifted to seeing her dance with JJ. Suddenly, car headlights shone behind her as the vehicle stopped next to her. The window rolled down to reveal Rafe.

“Hey Fal, what are you doing walking alone?” 

“Hi, I just… um.. Just needed to clear my head.” 

“Well, get in. Let me drive you home.” He said and leaned over to open the door for her. Fallon was hesitant at first but somehow felt comfort once she went inside the car. Rafe began to drive and kept looking at her and back at the road. 

“You look good.” he said, making her smile and slightly blush. 

“Stop doing that, Rafey.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Complimenting me to distract me.” 

“I just wanna make you feel better, that’s all.” he stared at the road as Fallon looked at him. She grabbed his hand making him look at her.

“Thank you for that, really.” 

“No problem.” The ride to Figure 8 was short and filled with comfortable silence. Once they pulled into the driveway, Rafe lowered the volume of the radio and turned to Fallon who was getting her bag ready. 

“Thank you for driving me.” she smiled as he nodded and gave her a small smirk. Suddenly, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, making him blush. 

“Goodnight, Rafe.” and with that she got out of the car, waving at him once she opened her front door. The kook stayed there for a bit, still feeling euphoric by the kiss. He smiled widely as he changed his car to R, making his way home. 

The next day, Pope wanted to try out the drone, making everyone go to the Chateau. It was like seeing a child open his christmas gift and seeing that it was what they asked for. Excited was an understatement. Kie, Fallon and John B swam around for a bit while JJ, Lani and Pope stayed on the dock to test it out. They wanted to make sure the camera was looking HD, that it’s motor was functioning and that nothing was broken. 

“What’s this?” JJ asked as he touched a button from the panel that controls the drone. 

“Don’t touch that. I’m trying to work out this thing.” Pope said, slapping the blonde pogue’s away. 

“God bless geeks, Pope. Truly, man. What would we do without you to control the drones?” he asked as he leaned against the railing while Lani chuckled in the background, still standing next to Pope. 

“It’s not a drone. It’s an ROV.”

“Shut up, shut up. It’s too early for that right now.” 

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, JJ.” Lani smiled as she lifted her head and looked at the blonde who shrugged and turned back to the marsh. The conversation turned to mention lawyers once the wreckage was found. Loud thunders would be heard as the pogues climbed out of the marsh. 

“In the wrong weather, it’s gonna get pushed around.” Lani stated as she squinted her eyes looking at the sky. A big gray cloud was going over the OBX making the kook feel a bit anxious. 

“Then we’ll go at dead calm.” John B suggested wrapping himself in a towel. Right after that, thunder interrupted his thoughts as it filled everyone’s ears. 

“Well, today’s not the day.” JJ said, looking at the sky. 

The next day had perfect weather which was also perfect to look for the Royal Merchant. Pope asked his dad for his boat and surprisingly, Heyward said yes. Which gave him the responsibility to pick everyone up. JJ took over the wheel and Lani stayed with him in the cabin while everyone else got the equipment ready. 

“All right, JJ! Pin it here!” John B shouted as the blonde nodded. 

“Roger that! X marks the spot.” he said and stared at Lani who was already staring at him with slightly scared eyes. 

“All right, ladies and gentleman. To going full kook.” The shaggy haired pogue smiled as Kie started lowering the drone into the water, immediately giving Pope a clear image of the ocean. It kept going down as John B checked the location of the boat hence the constant screaming.

“JJ, you're right over it. Ten seconds northwest!” 

“Got it!” the blonde shouted back as he steered the wheel in a quick speed making Lani be on the verge of falling over him once the boat turned. He chuckled at the kook causing her to roll her eyes.

“Careful there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“One hundred feet!” Fallon shouted as she helped Kie lower the rope. Pope gasped in fear as he saw many animals which caused John B to be on edge. Inside the cabin, Lani and JJ were in comfortable silence as she stared at him. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry, I asked, I just… you’re wearing a sweatshirt.. It's the middle of June.” Lani looked at JJ with worried eyes as he hesitated for an answer. Not wanting to tell her about his dad. 

“Four hundred feet!” Kie shouted, interrupting JJ’s thoughts as he turned to look back at the front of the boat. Thunder was heard all around as they all stared at the sky. 

“Guys, the tide’s turning.” Fallon said to John B making him look down at the boat monitor. 

“JJ, ten seconds easy, south-southeast.”

“Copy that.” the blonde replied as he turned the wheel again making Lani trip and crash into him. JJ extended his arm and stood her up, pulling her to between him and the wall.

“Stay there, k?” she nodded and chuckled a bit, making him smile. 

“JJ, 20 second mid speed, south.”

“Copy that! Aye, aye, cap.” The pogue kept steering and steering the wheel, not receiving any feedback from John B. 

“John B! Is That good?” Lani shouted from the cabin as JJ focused on the wheel.

“Yeah, we’re good!” He shouted only his thumb up. The shouts kept coming back and forth as a trom approached the boat. Thunder got louder and winds got stronger making it harder for the female pogues to handle the rope as JJ tried to keep the boat at the right position. 

“There’s too much current!” Kie shouted holding onto the rope, afraid that it would leave her grip. 

“We’re gonna lose it!” Fallon shouted as she lowered the drone a bit more. 

“No, we're not! Steady at this bearing, JJ!” John B shouted as the blonde followed instructions. The shouting went on as the girls yelled how far the drone was. 

“You should be seeing something, man.” he told Pope as he looked closely at the screen. 

“I know, I know! Wait.. oh God.” A silence filled the boat as the boys stared at the screen closely.

“What the hell is going on?” Lani asked under her breath looking at the boys. JJ turned his head and got confused as he quickly turned back to look at the storm. 

“Do you see anything?” he asked, suddenly hearing the boys laugh in cheer. 

“It’s the Royal Merchant!” John B shouted in victory as he saw the wreckage on the screen feeling as if his father was standing right there with him. 

good life: @ilovefandoms102 @agardenofbooks @cloverrover

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 16: Bloodmoon’s Dawn

Warnings: strong language blood/gore, body horror, dead bodies, fire

Summary: Heisenberg searches for Juniper the morning after the hunt.

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Heisenberg trudged through the village. The sun had just started to rise in the pale dawn, the village trying to regroup after the Hunt.

He’d heard the gunshot, over the screams and howls. It made his blood run cold, fear and worry churning his gut into a mess.

The feeling didn’t leave him as he wandered the somber streets, the smell of blood and shit assaulting his nose.

But, above that, the horrid odor of burning hair and flesh rose with the wind. He rounded a corner to see a collection of men throwing bodies into a fire, the heat of it reaching his skin from that distance.

Most were Lycans, but there were a few dead and mangled villagers added to the blaze. Their fear of the dead turning spurred the villagers to burn both the creatures and the felled alike.

The thought of finding her on the pile….

He shook the thoughts away, trying to avoid the darkness that crept the corners of his brain.

He heard the wails of a woman, mourning a lost husband or son. He didn’t care to listen for details.

He continued along the street, looking into every fire for a familiar shape. His pale eyes scanning the charred bodies for anything resembling a varcalac alpha.

He sighed with relief when none were in the masses. Heisenberg had found her boots and coat discarded in the snow, her compass not far after. He deposited them in a safe location before searching the rest of the village.

The sound of bells echoed through the cold morning. He sneered, watching as the villagers began to flock towards the church. Mother Miranda, no doubt, was there to welcome them with promises of safety.

A few of the villagers stopped, falling to their knees before Heisenberg. Their voices were low and desperate mumbling for a mix or forgiveness and pity.

He reeled back a bit, before hurrying around them. He didn’t have time to waste coddling.

What he was looking for obviously wasn’t here anymore. He set his sights for the stronghold.

He walked the paths, over countless paw prints and bloody drag marks under his boots. The Lycans always retreated to the stronghold after hunts, to eat the dead they stole and to rest.

Heisenberg saw a few on the way, scrabbling around the rocks and tying up body’s for safekeeping.

The smell of gore was stronger as he entered the already opened doors, he could hear the creatures shuffling around within. If the villagers weren’t so fearful, they might have half a mind to torch this place.

He didn’t use caution as he strode through, the sound of his boots echoing off the ancient walls.

In a shadowy corner there was movement, something much bigger than a Lycan, and too bestial to be Urias.

He came forward, eyes adjusting to the darkness. His breath caught with relief: she was here and she was alive…

Juniper was still in her mutated form, laying bunched up along the old stone. Other Lycans and varcolacs were piled around, resting after the hunt.

Heisenberg stepped closer, seeing blood leak from a wound on her arm.

She raised her beastial head, a low growl coming from her chest.

“Hey now bitch, it’s me,” he lowered his voice, showing her his hands, “It’s Karl.”

She pulled her wounded leg closer, head dipping down. Her bloodied lips curled up as her wet nose twitched.

Sniffing at his offered hands, her hackles lowered.

Juniper leaned down and licked her wound gingerly.

Heisenberg knelt down by her, trying to look the leg over. It looked to be a bullet wound. Juniper’s tongue lathed it over, blood oozing out of the hole as soon as she licked it away.

“Got caught?” He frowned.

He could sense the metal still lodged in the flesh.

He reached out and gently touched her muzzle. Her multiple green eyes flicked up to him as she closed her unnaturally elongated jaws.

He scratched the bridge of her nose, easing as he watched her close her eyes.

There was a pleased rumble from her throat as she nuzzled into the contact.

“What I have to do is going to piss you off.” He admitted, worry etching into his features.

“Hies….en…” her voice croaked out, distorted and garbled in her mutated jaws.

He smiled weakly, “Yea, Doll. It’s me.”

“H….urt.” Her eyes of liquid green looked into his.

He squared his jaw, feeling a thorn in his chest.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” He focused on the metal. Being as careful as possible, he began to dislodge the bullet with his powers.

Her form tensed, muscles bunched under the skin. She made a sound of warning, baring her teeth.

He didn’t waver, his eyebrows bunching with concentration. Suddenly, with a wet sucking sound, the bullet came free.

Heisenberg released it, the metal tinkling against the stone of the floor.

Juniper’s pointed ears came forward at the foreign sound. She sniffed the bullet with interest.

“Now what will we do with you?” He sighed, “Did you eat anyone?”

Juniper stood, shaking like a dog before padding closer to him. Her large head nudged him, causing Heisenberg to fall back on his butt.

She snuffled his shirt, pressing him down onto the stone.

He chuckled, trying to push her massive head away as her tongue came out.

She lapped at his face, her breath smelling of blood.

Heisenberg pushed her head to the side, “Damn, who's the nasty one now, bitch?”

She warbled pacing back into her spot, sitting down. Frowning, Heisenberg scratched his chin.

How to get her home?

He made a makeshift collar out of a piece of sheet metal folded in on itself, hooking a chain through it like a leash. Seeing her collared and chained sent a pang though him.

He frowned, his aggressive handling involving her throat still a stinging thorn in his mind.

He was surprised however how easily she followed the lead.

How much of her mind is left in this form?

He thought. Now that she was tired out and fully fed she was better behaved then the Lycans, padding after him as he led her out of the stronghold. The Lycans outside tilted their heads curiously as they passed.

Juniper’s back tendrils lazily flowed around her, like sea grass in the ocean current. They would sometimes bat into Heisenberg or disturb the snow covered branches overhead.

The trip back took much longer than expected. Heisenberg was forced to avoid the outskirts of the village entirely, making the way back longer anyways. Not to mention, in this form everything smelled new and interesting to Juniper’s sensitive nose. Heisenberg would get stopped every few feet by her shoving her face into a log or trying to scratch around in the dirt. It was akin to walking a large dog, he mused.

With the factory grounds in sight, his patience waned in wake of her most recent pit stop.

“Buttercup, you are really pissing me off.” He hissed, yanking on the chain. She whined, looking at him dejectedly as she padded up beside him.

Her head shot up, sniffing at the air. Her ears perked up as she looked towards the factory excitedly.

Heisenberg chuckled, “Yea, we’re going home.”

Before he could brace himself she went tearing off towards the factory, almost ripping the chain from his hands. He was forced to take a full run to keep up with her.

When they got to the fence he let go as she scrabbled over the top.

Falling off onto the other side with a thud, she looked at him expectantly.

The gate rattled open, as he walked through. He paused to ponder what to do with her now. He had hoped she would have changed back during the journey over, but her mutated form was locked in like a tick. She was also filthy, caked in a layer of blood and grime.

He led her to the back of the factory, practically having to push her onto the larger elevator. This was saved for when he had to transport larger scrap into the underbelly. But she should fit fine.

He took her to base level four.

Once there he hooked the chain to the wall, positioning her over some grates. She tugged at the bonds until she heard the sound of a faucet turning.

He came back brandishing an old rubber hose.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as he pointed the nozzle at her.

Heisenberg hosed her off, blood and mud washing away. The dirty water trickled away through the metal grates she stood over.

After he shut the water off, Juniper stood dripping and shivering. Her mane of dark curls, heavy and waterlogged, she resembled a drowned sheepdog.

“K-Ka….rl?” Her monstrous voice eked out. She pulled her twisted legs closer to herself as she shivered.

He frowned, “Yea, Yea…I know the water was cold.”

She gave a small whine like a dog, looking down.

“You should dry off soon, it’s warm here.” He soothed.  He made sure the ventilation system kicked on, forcing dry air though the lower sections of the factory.

He heard a hollow clinking sound, spinning around to find Juniper’s jaws biting at the large pipes. She pulled at them, shaking her monstrous head a bit.

“Hey!” Heisenberg shouted, “Don’t eat my shit!”

One of her many eyes flicked over to him as she continued.

He stomped closer, hearing a growl from deep in her chest.

“Hey!”

She paused for a moment, peering at him before starting to tug at the pipe again. He pulled on the chain, causing her to stumble back a bit with a whimper.

“Juniper, stop it!” He scolded her like a dog. She huffed.

He noticed the tendrils on her back began to recede, pulling into the bubbled flesh. Her scar also looks less angry.

Seeing her safe and starting to calm gave him time to think. Questions pooled around his head:

Miranda had to know Juniper could turn…but why was she testing the limits of it? Did she want to use her as a weapon or was it just more of her sick curiosity?

He didn’t know, but it made him feel sick. He hated seeing Juniper like this, twisted and bloodthirsty.

Seeing her start to get even a shadow of control over this form brought him some relief. If she could control it fully she’d be much less of a danger to herself.

Was it hunger related? Or just moon patterns, maybe?

The bloodmoon had definitely affected her much more deeply than any moon faze had prior. He scratched his beard, deep in thought.

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 8, Previously On

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: As they seek out Vision a Westview that doesn’t seem to want them to find him, more memories from [Y/N]’s past begin to appear. They almost seem drawn out of the dark depths of their mind by some unseen force but it’s hard to tell whether it’s friend or foe. Who is forcing [Y/N]’s memories to the forefront of their mind--Wanda or someone else?--and is it tied to the suddenly hostile Westview blocking them from finding Vision? Who is trying to keep them distracted?

Word count: 6,584

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and declining mental health. Mostly angst, tbh.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend @austynparksandpizza @sophster1881 @haileyybird​ @maceidelic​ @alexpress @angelvinella

Ko-Fi Shoppe

~~~

You were too busy trying to calm the anxious gnawing in your stomach to notice Westview subtly changing around you. It wasn’t until a vine wrapped tightly around your ankle and made you almost trip and fall face-first into a fire hydrant that you looked around with a frown.

    The vine itself—thick, spiky, and definitely not native to the suburbs of New Jersey—had sprouted from cracks in the sidewalk, which spread and opened further as other vines crept after it. After tearing the one holding you off and stepping out of its reach, you noticed the fences of houses reaching far past their yards to create maze-like paths that covered the sidewalks and street ahead of you. The houses that these fences belonged to were also warped in a way that made them look like you were viewing them through funhouse mirrors, stretching far into the sky and bending overhead in your direction like they meant to block you from leaving in that direction—or meant to block you from being seen by anyone flying overhead.

    Your eyebrows arched so far up on your forehead that you weren’t sure that they were still there. “What the fuck is going on?”

    You weren’t as concerned about the magic happening itself—if some random civilian walked by, they’d barely react at all and the maze and houses weren’t causing any actual damage, just being incredibly annoying—as you were by the fact that you couldn’t tell who was doing it. Your first thought was Wanda, naturally, but it made no sense that she’d be trying to keep you from finding Vision when she was the one who’d originally sent you to go get him; not to mention that she’s never created such a bizarre display of magic, at least intentionally. You considered yourself next, as you’ve known yourself to cause random transmutations when you get too antsy, but this wasn’t the type of power that you controlled and when you tried to reach out to interact with the energy, you received opposition instead of energy bending to your will. It was somewhat difficult to pick out because it seemed to hide away under the blanket of Wanda’s magic that reached across everything in Westview, but the aura of the twisted architecture surrounding you was dark and hostile.

    You first attempted to humor whatever magic was at play and made your way through the maze but as you did so, the fences shifted around you to extend their white picket prison. You stopped and sighed. “The end is nigh… and I am not going to spend it dealing with this shit.”

    A little voice in the back of your head told you that you could probably set fire to the whole magic mirror setup and be done with it but you ultimately decided against it; Wanda would probably find out and definitely wouldn’t be happy when she did. Instead, you placed your hands on the fence and as you did so, posts morphed into gates that you could easily pass through. You continued through the maze via this method and were surprised to feel the opposing magic back away from you after your pushback.

    “Oh, thank god,” you grumbled under your breath as you made it through the last of the maze. 

Unfortunately, you celebrated too early as the cement underneath your feet suddenly began to melt back into its liquid form. It would have been fairly easy to use your powers to reharden the cement but exhausting yourself fighting with the opposing force until the sidewalks of Westview shifted into grassy fields on its outskirts seemed like a bad idea in the long run, especially with the twins’ disappearance, Wanda dealing with Agnes’s strange behavior, Monica’s return, and the warning churn of your stomach telling you to stay alert. So, you settled for trudging along through wet cement until the magic decided to back off again.

Not so much trying to cause damage as it’s trying to mildly inconvenience me, is it? you thought.

Just as before, once the magic trying to keep you distracted was rivaled by your own, it receded and you were soon walking on the regular, hard sidewalk once more. You cleaned your pants and shoes up by turning the wet cement still clinging to them into something much more manageable—water—and continued on your way. Sorting through the mix of concern, nips of mild hunger, and the energy-seeking compass in the center of your now twisting in every which direction, you managed to eventually focus back into the feeling of Vision somewhere in the distance. It got stronger as you walked, so you began to pick up the pace.

Then your unseen opponent returned, stronger and now in the mental realm instead of the physical. At first, you thought the kickback was just Westview’s borders—the Hex, Monica had called it—trying to right the wrongs of someone within it having memories of the outside world, something you’d experienced before. However, you felt the menace rippling underneath the surface of the haze and when you tried to fight back this time, you were met with an angry strength. The fog making your head feel heavy seemed to spread through your bloodstream and take home in your bones, weighing your body down until you stood still and lame in the middle of a random neighborhood. You were a prisoner in your own body; you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, but you didn’t even know if you did because your brain was so full of dark storm clouds that you couldn’t think straight. You knew that you stared slack-jawed into space but it felt more like you were sitting in a dark room inside your skull and watching the outside world from a TV screen. As you watched on, the fog that took over your mind and body took your eyesight too.

===

===

===

The first few memories were fleeting. 

You were a few years old and holding your mother’s hand. It was much less boney and knotted than you remembered your mother’s hand being, as was the rest of her. She was younger and stronger, standing next to you in a worn nurse uniform and overcoat and staring ahead with a scowl, concealing whatever emotions she was feeling otherwise. You were in a bedroom that was only vaguely familiar to you and the two of you watched an old man that was barely more than a skeleton slept under a heap of fraying blankets. As you stared on through the wide eyes of your child self, your grandfather heaved a final breath before falling into a deep, eternal slumber.

A couple of years older, you were in the old but cozy, sunny yellow kitchen that your mom love to cook in. You sat at the dining room table, kicking your legs and picking at the splitting wood as your mother and a stranger argued in the other room. You had never heard your mother raise her voice to such an extent before but at the time, you were much more concerned about what kind of sandwich you were going to help her make for lunch. You never saw the stranger aside from a flash of [H/C] as he left and he was never seen or heard of again.

You were still in the kitchen but its appearance had changed ever so slightly. Yours did too, as you were a teenager now, and now your mother sat across from you at the table. Though she was still healthy now, her overall haggard appearance would be one that she carried on for years to come. She was telling you about her doctor’s appointment but you were only somewhat listening as you were stressed about high school drama and final assignments to be turned in before summer break. You heard words like “dementia” and “Alzheimer’s” but the meanings were lost on you in that moment.

Then you were in a nursing home. You could feel the harsh lighting, hear the TV from the lounge behind you. The smell of cleaning supplies burned your nostrils but the smell of your mother’s stale perfume soothed it. Unfortunately, nothing could soothe the ache that made your heart feel like it was going to shrivel up and die when you came to tell her that you changed your major in college so you would be better equipped to help her, only for her unable to recall having a child at all.

You were pinned against a wall in a Sokovian HYDRA base, although you didn’t know the organization that you were studying with was HYDRA at the time. Shivers of equal parts fear and exhilaration made your entire body quiver and the clipboard you’d been holding clattered to the ground. While a large group of Sokovian war protestors had to hunch together to fit in the cramped and cold holding room, Wanda seemed to take up the majority of the space just from her spot of holding you into place. Her hair was a mess and her face and clothes were dirty but her eyes were full of more life than you’d experienced during your entire time working in the base. She was angry and determined and powerful and gorgeous, and she told you that if you ever ran into her again that she’d kill you—and you were surprised with how okay you were about the idea, as long as you got to see her again. When she let you go and you apologized, she told you what she and the others were doing here; this was the catalyst that sent you investigating into HYDRA and finding out about their much more sinister nature, as well as the pain you’d helped cause.

Finally, the slide show of memories slowed and instead of being confined to your brain, you were back in your own body—or so you thought until you looked around and found yourself staring at a younger copy of yourself. Instead of Westview, you were in a HYDRA testing room, and instead of simply re-experiencing, you were quite literally watching a memory unfold around you as if you were an unwanted audience member standing around the active set of a TV show. Or a ghost, you decided, as the younger you walked through you as if you were nothing but air.

Your younger self was dressed in an all-black work uniform and lab attire, with an identification card clipped to your chest that granted you high-level clearance. You’d worked immensely hard playing HYDRA’s game to get to where you were now, which was standing in the control room with two other agents and preparing to analyze the test about to unfold on the other side of a large glass window. In the test chamber, a door slowly slid open and Wanda, unkempt and spacey, entered.

You wanted to break her out. Judging by the way your younger self tensed up—not enough to be noticed by your superiors; you’d mastered your mother’s emotional lockdown of a scowl at this point—your feelings weren’t far off from the initial experience. 

Wanda made her way farther into the room, closer to a scepter with a glowing blue stone that was being held on a pedestal. As she did so, the younger you readied their clipboard and pen to take notes and one of the two agents spoke, “For our notes, Miss Maximoff, can you please state your name and confirm your status?”

The younger copy of your current partner did as she was told. “Wanda Maximoff. Volunteer.”

“Begin experimentation,” the other agent—a doctor and one of your immediate superiors—stated.

“Doctor,” the first man said, “with respect, not one subject has survived direct contac—”

He was broken off as the doctor flicked on the intercom to speak to Wanda again. “Touch the sample.”

Wanda made her way forward but before she could do much, the stone suspended in the scepter—the mind stone, you knew now—detached itself and floated towards her. As it got closer, its glow grew brighter and bright blue magic wafted over Wanda as she stared before reaching out to touch it. While you remembered this situation thus far, what happened next was completely new to you. The mind stone shattered before Wanda’s eyes, revealing yellow golden yellow magic that poured from the remains. There was an explosion of light and within it was a flash of a shadow. From where you were standing, you couldn’t quite make out the shape.

Then the light died and Wanda collapsed, and the rest of the memory ran as you remembered. The scientist and doctor ran out to check that Wanda was still alive, while your younger self recollected themselves enough to take pictures of notes and research reports from the control desk with an old school digital camera that they’d managed to sneak in.

“Well,” a familiar, incredibly out-of-place voice sounded from behind you, “that’s a surprise. I had no idea you and [Y/N] went so far back.”

You spun around to see Agnes and a modern Wanda standing just behind you. Agnes watched your echo with mild curiosity as they carefully rifled through the control desk and gathered as much information as they could to examine at a later time. The dark energy that radiated off the woman was the same that you’d sensed earlier, hiding just underneath Wanda’s own. Being this close to the unhidden source now, the magic felt sharp and acidic and tasted like bile on the back of your tongue. The anxiety that had been gnawing at your stomach increased tenfold as your guts twisted around themselves. It had been Agnes all along.

Past you finished their investigation as they were called in to take Wanda to solitary by one of the other HYDRA agents. When they rushed out of the control room, they passed through Wanda and Agnes, confirming that the women were in a similar state of being to you.

Surprisingly, Agnes was completely unaware of current you’s presence. She walked casually over to the desk and attempted to make sense of younger you’s rummaging before making a face and shrugging.

Wanda, on the other hand, was staring directly at you. To anyone else, it could be said that she was simply looking through you who the commotion happening in the test chamber, but when you met her gaze, the slightest of jaw clenches told you otherwise. While it was Agnes—Not Agnes, a ghost of a whisper in sounded in your head—whose magic had been toying with you, it seemed that it was Wanda’s doing, at least to some extent, that brought you to watch this scene with them. 

“You know,” the ravenette said, “I really did like them for a while. They were fun to string along for entertainment, and they were a hoot at events and to run errands with. Such an awkward little thing. I could see their crush from a mile away whenever you three were around each other. I just thought they’d be the out-of-place, pining neighbor whose love was unrequited, a comedic plot device of sorts. I didn’t think you would actually return their feelings, let alone both you and your husband, you naughty dogs. I should have known sooner that something was up.”

You and me both, sister, you thought with a soundless snort.

“Oh well,” Agnes—question mark?—said with another shrug, “our friendship was fun while it lasted. Let me know if you ever get bored with them. We did often flirt a bit, [Y/N] and I.”

“What do they have to do with any of this?” Wanda asked, throwing a mild glower in the other woman’s direction.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Agnes responded with a sickly sweet smile, then walked past Wanda and out of the testing room. “Come along, dear! We’ve got much more digging to do.”

Wanda glanced at you one last time before following. After a moment, you trailed after them.

===

===

===

Past Wanda was sitting and watching sitcoms via the one amenity she had the dungeon-like room she was held in when your past self walked in.

“Wanda,” past you gasped and moved to rush to her side before freezing and throwing a glance towards a security camera in one corner of the room. The faintest blue-black light danced appeared to dance around your echo’s fingers as the lens of the camera warped and changed into a round silver disc, then the light disappeared and you watched yourself hurry to younger Wanda’s side. 

She didn’t acknowledge you until you placed a gentle hand on her back. She jumped a bit and turned her glassy-eyed, hollow-cheeked face towards you; in the same instant, the TV turned off. 

Past Wanda offered past you a wobbly smile that you returned. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a candy wrapped in colored foil that looked neon in comparison to the dull coloring of the rest of the environment.

“Hey, look, Wanda,” you tried, offering the candy to her, “I brought you something. Remember these? You told me once that they’re your favorite.”

Wanda stared blankly at your gift. After a moment, she took it and began picking at the foil.

Past you gave past Wanda another strained smile. Your furrowed brows caused deep lines to be etched into your forehead, showing no lack of concern, but you tried to stay positive. Gingerly running your hand up and down Wanda’s back, you carefully looked over as she freed the chocolate-covered candy from its wrapper. “You look good. You’re doing much better than you were when we brought you back.”

Wanda’s eyes lazily traced the pattern of the room’s stone walls as she brought her treat to her lips and carefully nibbled at it. When she found it free of tampering, she relaxed a bit and popped it into her mouth.

You watched as your past self rested their chin on her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to get you out of here, Wanda. I promise that I’m going to save you. I just… wish you’d let me help you more.”

Well, young me, you thought, you certainly broke that promise, then went off and murdered a bunch of people. Nice job.

Wanda’s past self finally fully acknowledged yours; she rested her head on top of yours and her thin fingers brushed brushed over the knuckles of one of your hands. She shook her head and mumbled, “I have to do this. For my people.”

Your echo sighed. The two of you sat like that together for a few moments longer before you separated yourself from her and headed out of the room. As you walked out of the room, the silver that blocked the security camera transformed back into a lens. Wanda looked back to the TV and blinked, and the television turned back on.

“Huh,” Agnes piped up to Wanda again, “they were just as piney here as they are in Westview then. Weird. I thought they had a reputation as a crazy psycho killer outside? Hoo boy, did you see any of the work that they did after Sokovia? I looked into it when I figured out that they weren’t just another ordinary townee. The Alchemist? Wished I’d managed to keep them on my side; I’d love to sit down and talk about all the ways they tore up those agents.”

You grimaced. You never regretted going on a HYDRA manhunt but it wasn’t exactly one of your most redeeming qualities.

Wanda frowned. “Trying to cope with all they had done while working with HYDRA was too much and they had to do it alone. I told [Y/N] I would return but then I never did. They thought it was their only solution.”

You were surprised to hear her empathize with you, let alone know about your revenge spree at all. You hadn’t realized how much it felt like a secret that you had been keeping from her until a weight was lifted off your shoulders when she talked about it.

“Still,” Agnes said nonchalantly, “turning an alive former HYDRA agent into a very much not alive scarecrow and leaving posting him up in his own field? Genius and I love the creativity. And the way they turned the guy who shot them into a bloody bag of bones? Delicious.

“But anyway,” she went on, the glee in her voice shifting to something more pensive, “little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more.”

With a wave of her hand, a dark wood door appeared in the room’s far wall. Wanda’s eyes widened slightly with recognition and she immediately walked forward and through it. Agnes trailed cheerfully after her.

You made a move to follow them but you didn’t make it before Agnes shut the door behind her. You jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn’t budge, and then it melted back into the wall and vanished altogether. While you were relieved to be away from Agnes’s acrid magic, panic rose in the back of your throat at the idea of Wanda being alone with Agnes and you being trapped in a bizarre memory realm with no idea of how to get out. You ran your hands along the wall in hopes of finding the door’s outline once more, to no avail. You spun around to search for another route—

—and you were suddenly standing on a street in Westview. 

This wasn’t Westview as you currently knew it but Westview before Wanda had turned it into her special little safe haven. Instead of watching this memory like a movie, you were now involuntarily reliving it as a prisoner of your head again as your body and mouth move on its own accord.

You were paused mid-walk across the street and staring at a breathtakingly gleeful Vision for the very first time. He was standing out in the open without a human disguise of any kind, wearing a very attractive form-fitting turtleneck and looking over an empty plot of land. He must have felt you staring because he turned his warm, earth-shaking gaze towards you.

“Hello there!” he hollered with a friendly wave and a smile that made you wonder if one look from a stranger could make you weep over how attractive they were. He stepped from the dirt plot to the sidewalk, then made his way to the curb. He held a slightly crumpled piece of paper in one hand and you could see a red heart in its center out of the corner of your eye.

For whatever reason—maybe because of the fact that there was a very inhuman-looking man, who was causing your body to have all sorts of reactions, walking towards you—you felt compelled to walk over and meet him. 

“Excuse me,” Vision said as you got closer and pointed to the lot behind him, “I’m looking to buy this spot here. Do you live around here?”

Temporarily, while I try to look for a cure for my dumb-bitch memory disease, you thought. Instead of saying this aloud, though, you said something much more stupid. “Are you aware that you’re red?”

Vision blinked. He looked at his hands if he was in fact just now realizing this, then looked back at you with wide eyes. One hand moved to touch the golden gem embedded in his forehead, which you now connected to the mind stone on the previous memory that you had experienced—Wanda’s memory. 

“Oh, goodness,” Vision said, “yes I am. I’m sorry, I hope my appearance doesn’t make you uncomfortable. If it does, I could make a more appealing one—”

You felt yourself break into a grin and one of your hands waved itself dismissively at him. “Not sure there’s a way to make yourself any more appealing than you already are. It’s just unusual is all.”

Vision chewed on one side of his bottom lip before smiling sheepishly at you. If only you’d been able to tell when this interaction had actually happened that he was “blushing” in the only way his synzethoid body allowed over you complimenting him; you would have had a field day with making him flustered.

Then his eyes drifted slightly above your eyeline and the hand touching his forehead gem fluttered slightly to the right—his left. Without thinking of how it might come off, he said, “You’re unusual-looking yourself.”

Luckily, you weren’t too easily offended. You briefly touched the gunshot scar on your forehead with one hand, the exit wound scar on your neck with the other, before dropping them both and shrugging. “Got shot in the head once. Operation gone wrong.”

“A soldier?” 

Unfortunately, the version of you in this memory was already struggling to recall memories. Instead of telling the pretty stranger that, though, you said, “Something like that.”

Vision nodded and awkwardly fiddled with the paper in his hands. His gaze flitted around before settling on you again, “Well, I think you’re appealing too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm but you hid your embarrassment with a snicker. “Thanks.”

The man cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s good then, isn’t it? That we both like each other’s looks just fine. Not… that I want you to find my visuals appealing. Not— not that that’s a bad thing to be doing so either! It’s just that—” he paused to collect himself. “I have a partner. A girlfriend of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“It hasn’t really been discussed,” he clarified, “but we are deep in the throughs of our relationship.”

“Congrats? Also yeah.”

Vision blinked. “I’m sorry?”

You pointed over your shoulder. “I live around here. In a hotel more often than a home but I’m considering getting a rental a couple houses over.”

Because if I don’t find who I’m looking for—a doctor? Scientist maybe?—I’ll be stuck here until I remember where I came from.

    You were brought out of your grumbling thoughts by the childish excitement that erupted from Vision’s shining smile and spread throughout his body until he was practically vibrating. He quickly scrambled the rest of the way over and flashed the paper he held at you, then almost immediately folded it up before you could actually see anything other than a flash of red on white. He told you how wonderful it was to be meeting someone from the neighborhood and before you open your mouth to say anything in response, a billion questions seemed to pour one after the other from his mouth. You caught a few—did you know why the plot he was looking at was open, if there was a nefarious reason behind it lacking any home already? Was the neighboorhood safe, did you like it there?—but you soon found yourself distracted by the way the gear-like patterns in his blue irises swirled faster as Vision became increasingly giddy.

    Then one word came flying out of his rambling mouth and you felt like you had been hit in the gut with a sack of bricks. You actually had to stop yourself from choking on a gasping breath and steel yourself in preparation in case he said her name again. Luckily, Vision seemed too deep in his his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you blanching from the kickback of yours.

    Wanda? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t like there weren’t any other Wandas in the world. Then again, you’d never met another Wanda since your Wanda and there was something about her name coming from his mouth that assured you that his Wanda was yours too.

    Is that why you had come to Westview? Was Wanda the one you were looking for?

    You placed a hand on Vision’s shoulder, both as a way of grounding yourself and grabbing the man’s attention. It worked and Vision’s bumbling died off as he looked at you with wide eyes.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said, and lifted his free hand to scratch at the side of his neck, “I got quite carried away there, didn’t I?”

    This past version of you wanted so desperately ask about the Wanda he spoke of, to confirm that she was the Wanda that you’d known in what seemed to be a past life at this point. You wanted to know if she was safe, happy, and if he was taking care of her in the way that she so needed after everything she had been through. When you looked at Vision, though, and the plot plans in his hand and the place of his and her future home, you bit your tongue. Something told you that it wasn’t your time to ask nor was it your right to do so. It had been so long since you’d tried to help the Sokovian woman escape a dingy HYDRA base and failed, and wherever she was now, she was probably better off without you intruding.

    You put on a mask of a friendly smile to hide the way your heart was being picked to pieces by a thousand imaginary needles and gave Vision’s shoulder an equally friendly pat. “No worries. I do have to stop you, though, have an appointment to get to. I’m really not the person to ask about future home life—like I said, usually a hotel—but if I have anything to tell you, it’s that this is a good place to settle.”

    Vision beamed. “Really?”

    You dropped your arm and stepped away from the robotic stranger to take your leave. “This place is easy to turn into a home. You’ll love it here.”

    Vision heaved a sigh a relief and he waved to you and you gave a parting nod and began walking. “Thank you! Oh, and it was nice meeting you, neighbor! Hope to see you again soon!”

    Something deep in your heart told you that you wouldn’t be seeing the British gentleman again, or maybe you were finally coming to terms with the fact that your brain would drop yoru memory of him before the day was over. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, trying to commit every detail of Vision to memory the best that you could, before heading back across the street.

    “Looking forward to it!”

===

===

===

    One minute you were walking and the next you couldn’t feel any part of your body that was below your waistline. The scene had shifted again and you now found yourself staring spacily off ahead. You were outside and you felt the familiar presence of a large facility behind you but you couldn’t place what the building was for or why you were there. In fact, try as you might, you couldn’t place much meaning to anything. Your brain was blank aside from several questions that you had no answers to.

    Why were you in a wheelchair? What had happened to your legs? Why were you outside? Why were there old people and people in scrub uniforms milling around you and talking to you in passing as if you had any idea who they were? Where was your mom? You had classes to attend and needed a ride.

    You took a sighing breath and felt a tanginess of citrus on your tongue that sent shockwaves throughout your body—or what left of it that you could feel. Your eyes shot open wide and you swung your head around, looking for the source of the taste of candied citrus, the feeling of thin fingers carefully brushing across your knuckles. There was a memory there, clawing just under the surface of thought-killing fungus that seemed to have taken over your head over… however long it had been now. You just had to remember—

    Before you could could remember, you saw her appear before your very eyes. She was walking down the street past you with only a green yard and strip of sidewalk separating the two of you. She wore a dark outfit and her hair cascaded behind her in the breeze, fluttering like flames. You couldn’t see her face well because of the distance you could feel the deep, powerful sadness radiating off her in waves; it was almost strong enough to force you into tears. Still, she walked with purpose and she held a piece of paper in her hand that she glanced at every other second. She happened to turn her head to toss a stray chunk of her back over her shoulder and for a brief moment you thought that her dark eyes met yours.

    You screamed her name and attempted to chase after her. However, in that moment, you forgot that you were paralyzed from the waist down and stuck in a wheelchair, so when you lurched forward to stand, you were quickly greeted by hard earth knocking the wind out of you. You hissed in pain but the impact didn’t stop you, nor did your lack of working legs. You shoved the wheelchair away in a fit of irritation, then began crawling your way across the public yard, following a trail of a very specific shade of red as you dragged your body along.

    You didn’t make it very far before you felt strong hands grasp your shoulders. You flailed around, prepared to fight whoever was trying to disrupt your mission, only for you stop struggling altogether when a flash of reddish hair appeared in the corner of your vision. You looked up at and stared at the only face that held solidity in your mind with eyes the size of dinner plates as she knelt next to you and helped you into a decent sitting position. Once you were settled, her hands moved from your arms to cradling your face and when you could see the heartbreak in her eyes this time, you actually did feel a few tears wet your cheeks.

    Your eyes fluttered shut as her gentle hands caressed your face, brushed away the tears that were now flowing like a waterfall. Your own hands found their way to her waist and you held on for dear life. With a wobbly voice that was barely above a whisper, you gasped her name again, “Wanda…”

    You felt the warm touch of her forehead pressing against yours, her nose ungracefully bumping against your cheek as she held you. “[Y/N]?”

    Hearing your name on her tongue sent you into a fit of sobbing laughter, though you weren’t sure why. Goosebumps erupted across your skin and you felt the stuttering of a billion bird’s wings in your stomach, pounding against your ribcage. You had so many things you wanted to say and yet you could remember a single word, so you merely fell into a bumbling chant of “My Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda…” Your eyes stayed squeezed shut for fear that if you opened them, she would no longer be there. 

    Wanda’s lips brushed against your eyelids and then your cheeks, not quite leaving kisses but a warm, tingly feeling nonetheless. A smile was there, you could feel the curve of it as her mouth traveled from your temple to your hairline, but it was one of the same sadness that you’d seen in her eyes. She mumbled against your scarred forehead, “Oh, [Y/N], what happened to you…?”

    You finally opened your eyes—luckily, she didn’t vanish into thin air once you did—and finally met her gaze again. You moved your hands to cover hers that still held your face and pressed them harder against your cheeks, as if you could imprint her fingerprints into your skin.

    After a moment of just silently basking in her presence, you sighed softly and replied, “I don’t know.”

    Pain further etched itself into the lines of Wanda’s face; you quickly reached out to smooth them out with your fingertips.

    “You don’t remember anything?”

    “Not much,” you replied. Then you smiled. “I know you. All I know for sure is you.”

    Wanda looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears herself but she swallowed her sobs instead. She adjusted her position and sat back slightly, scrubbed her hands over her eyes and looked around at your surroundings. She glanced at the paper she’d once been holding but now sat in the grass next to her before her gaze settled back on you. Sadness shifted into determination as she took your face her hands once more.

    “I’m going to get you out of here, [Y/N],” she said, “I promise I’m going to save you.”

    You went to nod but the sound of something flying overhead caught your attention, then a flash of yellow light over Wanda’s shoulder.

    A powerful jerk in your stomach seemed to control your entire body, forcing your head and body upward. Then you were standing on the sidewalk on the outskirts of a neighborhood with a maze of twisted houses and picket fences behind you. You were no longer trapped inside your own head, watching or reliving memories, but standing mid-step in the Westview that was bubbled by a Hex of modern Wanda’s own creation.

    Vision was flying through the air nearby and approaching fast.

    Your powers seemed to move one step ahead of your mind; before you finished the thought, one of the fun mirror houses was turned into a staircase that led to nowhere in the sky. As you turned and began racing up them, you waved your arms in Vision’s direction and hollered, “Hey! Toaster oven!”

    Vision was clearly on a mission home but you managed to catch his attention before he flew too far past you. He rounded back around and met you at the top of your stairs. He quickly surveyed your immediate surroundings, taking in the bizarre scenery before casting a concerned look your way. “What in the world is going on here?”

    “Uh, well,” you paused and took a glance around yourself, then rambled off, “I just spent a nondescript amount of time trapped in a mental live-action remake of my past and I’m pretty sure Agnes is not Agnes but some unpleasant, magic-y person who kidnapped our kids and now is trying to get… something, I’m not sure what, from Wanda. Also, I think she might have a crush on me and I’m pretty sure she caused the carnival set-up next to us.”

    Vision blinked. “Well, that’s… a lot.”

    You hummed your agreement and nodded. Then you held out your arms to him. “Shall we?”

    Vision eyed you from your place on a freshly mutated staircase then snorted softly as he gathered you into his arms, bridal style. “Surely there must be a way for you to travel with those powers of yours.”

    “There is,” you affirmed, “but this is probably faster and I should probably keep my strength to save our kids and your wife. Oh, by the way.”

    Vision gave you a questioning him as he prepared for flight. You wrapped your hands around his neck and brought your lips to his in an quick kiss. When you pulled away, you met his curious gaze and said, “I’m so happy to have met you.”

    Vision’s expression grew warmer and returned your kiss with a softer one of his own. He briefly nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling away.

    “I’m glad to have met you too,” he said softly. Then he shifted his gaze to look past you, towards home, and he said, “Now, let’s go get our family.”

[saphirered]

Late Night  Caleb Widogast x reader

*You got in the splash zone of a fireball and have a good post battle talk with the caster assuring him it’s not his fault you got hurt*

The fight was turning and not in your favour. Two away from the main fight. One down. You use your staff to swing at your opponent and deflect a blow from another with the other end. Behind you you saw Fjord looking between you and the unconscious wizard on the docks. 

“Go! I’ll be fine!” You shouted swiping the legs out from under one of the crew members. Within a second Fjord teleported away and started making his way toward Caleb. You started going the same way too but on the gangplank you were met with the Captain herself. She came at you with her rapier and you just managed to avoid the first hit but the second one cut into your arm pretty deeply. You’ve had much worse though but with the ship behind you and Avantika in front you couldn’t really go anywhere. She kept attacking you but you managed to hold your ground landing some good hits yourself but the fight seemed far from over until a red light shot out from the far docks hitting the ship. The heat of a fireball burned at your side and you were flung off the gangplank barely making it onto the docks. Avantika seemed to be fine and just out of range but now you were far enough away from her. Grunting you got up, your entire left side of your body tingling, scorched red and bleeding. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been had you been at the centre like some of the unlucky crew members but it still hurt a good bit. You ignored the pain and as the Captain looked behind her to see you get up with a smirk and a wave taking a sprint as far as you could until you were stopped by guards. You held up your hands in surrender and just followed along with the others. 

From your position you could see Caleb standing frozen in place eyes glazed over arm stretched out as the guards grabbed him. Though from what you could see, the wizards wouldn’t be in the right mind to cast spells any time soon. Everyone went along and you were begging the gods the plan worked out and Beau and Jester got the book to the Plank King.

——————————————————————————

Everything had worked out fine in the end… at least as well as to be expected and the Nein now had ownership of the Squalleater and were back on sea with their crew, all banished from Darktow. The sun set a few hours ago and you took watch as you felt like sleep would not come to you easily anyway. Jester and Caduceus had been able to heal your injuries but you still felt like you had taken a dive off a cliffside onto the rocks. You stand on the deck watching the sky, the sails blowing in the wind and into the vast darkness of the never ending sea, Darktow now far behind. Stuck in your own world you don’t hear Caleb getting onto the deck and pick a spot far away from you staring into nothingness. Deciding it’s time to try and get some sleep you get up but seeing the wizard sitting at bow of the ship looking at the partially scorched masts and deck fiddling with something between his fingers you decide against it after all. You walk over and sit down next to him. He doesn’t respond beyond the brief pause of his motions let you know he knows you are there.

“If you want me to leave you alone I can go.” You look at him expecting some sort of a response, words or not but you got none. Waiting a little bit longer you eventually get up. Half up a hand wrapped around your arm so you sit back down in a comfortable silence. You know, to an extend what he had been through and what happened in Darktow triggered some bad memories. Caleb would talk if he felt like talking so you’d wait patiently and you stay with him night and day if it means he’d utter even a single word. He’s suffering and sometimes someone just being there can make even the tiniest difference. At least, for you it had in the past. Hours pass and you gather from the sky you are but hours away from dawn though only Caleb can confirm your estimate more precisely. Your mind starts wandering again looking at the sky, the endless seas ahead but you are pull out of your thoughts by the wizard speaking. 

“How?” Caleb breaks the silence. The word came out raspy and ridden with guilt and pain, eyes still trained on the scorched ship. “How can you still look me in the eye let alone sit next to me knowing what I did to you?” A pitied frown creeps onto your face as you tried to formulate an answer. You feel bad for him but that doesn’t change the way he’s feeling. 

“Because it was never your intend. Because sometimes accidents happen. Caleb, you might be one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met but you can’t know everything. You can’t control everything no matter how hard you try. You didn’t know I was there and to be honest, if you hadn’t cast that spell I’m sure I’d be dead right now with my head on a spike or weighed down by some rocks at the bottom of the sea.” You turned to face him. “I’m alive aren’t I? I’m still here and I’m still kicking. That’s what counts.” You softly put you hand on the side of his face and turned it away from looking at the fading burn marks now no more than a bad sunburn thanks to the clerics. 

“I don’t want to lose anyone else. I don’t know why even the thought of losing you hurts so much. I can’t afford to lose someone else.” He’s conflicted. Caleb never truly cared about who lived or died. Sure he’s grown attached to the Mighty Nein but wouldn’t hesitate to run should it come to it. At least, that’s how it had been. He’s changing, experiencing things he hadn’t felt in a long while. A sense of belonging, friends maybe even family. He’s not alone anymore and while that comes with many perks, it also came with risks and downsides to the way of life he has grown so accustomed to.

“It hurts because you are a good man, Caleb. It shows you have a heart and care for those other than yourself.” You reach for his bandaged hand but don’t touch until he places his hand in yours. You give his hand a squeeze and guiding him slightly to the side so you can see his expression.

“I’m anything but a good man. The things I’ve done, I’ll never be a good man.” He looks down at your hands and you bit your lip. Despite his hunger for learning and broadening his mind he is stubborn and changing his mind is as difficult as getting Nott to give up alcohol.

“I’m only going to tell you this once so listen carefully.” You encompass the hand you’re holding and move to unwrap the bandage. To your surprise he doesn’t stop you and turns his arm to make it easier for you to do so. “You feel that pain? That guilt and regret and heartbreak tearing at your soul? Don’t wallow in it for it will not serve you well. You carry your mistakes and regrets with you and they will weigh you down like bricks. You use your bricks to build but your actions will determine whenever you are building a palace or a prison. Only you can make that decision but know you have the potential to create a better tomorrow for everyone.” You remove the bandages from his left arm and moved on to the right. Caleb keeps his focus on your hands as you work. While your hands may be weathered and show the years of labor and harsh circumstances  your touch is soft, careful and deliberate like a porcelain painter, delicate and precise with fragile material. 

“These scars? They are part of you but they are not all you are. You are so much more than your past, Caleb.” You trace the scars on his arms. His eyes focus on your every movement.

“You want revenge on those who wronged you and hurt you like they did and continue to do so many others and I swear, if that is what you desire, what you need I will help you do so but do not let it be your undoing. You use your guilt and anger and mistakes and you use them to drive you but do not forget your compassion, kindness and desire to right your wrongs and remember why you are on this path. You are not alone anymore. Empires rise and fall by the actions of one. Imagine what a bunch of assholes trying leave a place better than they found it can do to the world.” He finally looks you in the eye and you can see the turmoil trying to calculate and process what’s going through his mind. The Caleb always quick witted and charismatic seems to have problems finding words.

“Thank you… For everything.” He trails off. You start picking up the bandages to wrap his arms again. “No leave them… For now at least.” He traces over one of the more prominent scars. 

“Only told you what you undoubtedly already knew but are just to stubborn to accept, you idiot.” He musters a smile at your comment and breathes in deeply.

“A bunch of assholes changing the world? I like the sound of that.” 

[cinnaminsvga]

🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie​ who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends. 

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter. 

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.

[falseroar]

Treasure Hunt

((Dark goes digging for old memories, with some “help.” Nothing serious and not related to anything, just something short I wrote on my phone while my computer was out of service to keep up with my daily word count goal. I was going to post this yesterday, but, eh...*gestures vaguely at all that nonsense*))

“Are you going to bury a body?”

Dark stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder at Wilford, the movement putting the shovel’s blade on his other shoulder perilously close to his cheek. “No, I am not. Unlike you, I don’t have a ready supply of those to hand.”

“What, you mean Jerry? Eh, he’s fine, he’ll walk it off,” Wilford said with a flippant wave of his hand. While it was true that his latest victim had survived, Dark silently thought he would not be walking off a bullet to the knee anytime soon. “So, what are you doing? Ooh, is it a treasure hunt? I can grab that new guy with the hat, turn it into a real bonding moment between the three of us, and we can let him walk in front in case there are any traps! Fantastic, I’ll go grab him right now!”

“No, Wilford, it’s not a treasure hunt.” Not in the strictest sense of the word, but his tone was at least enough to stop Wilford before he could go running off. “I’m just...It’s past time I checked on something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why would I worry?” Wilford asked, falling into step behind Dark. He tapped his fingers against his mustache and remarked, “Not really sure I can remember the last time I worried about anything. Everything always just sort of works itself out in the end, you know?”

“I know,” Dark said, while he thought, “I know you think that’s how it works.”

But he just said, “I’ll be back later tonight.”

With that, Dark stepped out of the front door of the house and disappeared into the shadow that surrounded him, an ear-piercing ring growing and then immediately stopping the moment the shadow faded from sight. Wilford blinked and then shrugged, muttering to himself about making his own treasure hunt.

When Dark stepped out of the shadows, it was to find himself standing in the bright light of an early summer day, the sun adding some of the color back to his faded skin as he studied the remains of the manor in front of him for a moment.

He had no intention of going inside, of course, not today. No, his path took him around the perimeter of the overgrown yard, past hedges that had extended out to do battle with the lemon grass and the flowers that had escaped their beds in a bid to spread far and wide, the unmanaged plants all doing battle to gain supremacy over the neglected lawns. He had to pause multiple times and study the distance from the house, comparing the windows to the tree lines and the cracked and faded giant chessboard until he finally found the statue, its surface stained and worn until the face was practically a blank slate, one of its spread wings broken at the tip.

It looked smaller than he remembered too, but then a lot of things did.

Dark circled the statue once, taking in what time and weather had done to it, before he turned his back on it and began counting under his breath in time with each step.

“9...10.”

Dark stopped at a patch of grass and weeds no different than any other in the immediate area and raised the shovel he had borrowed from the shed the Author once used so regularly.

“You’re standing in the wrong spot.”

Dark stumbled, his attempt to stop the shovel mid-swing causing him to lose his balance. He swore under his breath and glared at Mark, wondering when he got here. “What would you know about it?”

“Only that a kid’s step doesn’t go as far as an adult’s.” Mark, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that better matched the weather than Dark’s ever present suit, strolled over to the statue and stopped at the same place Dark started his counting to look up at its face. “Hello, baby.”

“I thought you hated statues.”

“Oh, I do. If that thing goes weeping angel on us, I will absolutely leave you here to die.” Mark grinned. “I didn’t think you’d remember, but considering where you’re standing, I guess you didn’t. Watch this, each step was more like...”

Mark looked down, carefully counting out each step that he shortened to the point that when he reached 10, he was barely halfway to where Dark stood. “See what I mean?”

“What I see is someone who doesn’t remember insisting on taking giant steps,” Dark said, resting the blade of the shovel against the ground as he leaned on the handle. “You practically skipped from there to here.”

“I have never skipped! And I can prove it, because unlike someone, I actually came prepared. Tactical shovel, which is clearly superior to a regular shovel—“

“Putting a knife on it doesn’t make everything better.”

“Says you. And a metal detector,” Mark continued, showing off both instruments that he’d been carrying. “Watch and learn.”

Mark flipped the switch on the detector and paused, before flipping it again when there was no response.

“Did you actually put batteries in it?”

“Of course I put batteries in it!” Mark glared at Dark’s smirk and opened the battery compartment. There was just a brief pause before he continued, “Give me a minute.”

By the time Mark came back with a working metal detector, Dark had already removed his jacket and hung it on one of the angel’s outstretched arms, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows as he dug.

“It’s the wrong place, I’m telling you,” Mark warned as he began to run the metal detector over the ground, but Dark ignored him and continued to dig.

Mark started at the statue and began to walk out, the crackle of the detector leading him past where he stopped and all the way to where Dark stood, a smug smirk on his face as the beeping grew louder and louder until it reached the hole he had already started.

“Well, are you going to start digging or not?” Dark asked.

Only because the hole wasn’t deep enough to push him into it yet, or at least that was Mark’s irritated thought as he tossed the metal detector aside and picked up his tactical shovel.

They tried to pass the time in silence, but before long it turned to bickering about who was doing more work and if “you spilled dirt on my side of the hole” and if there even was a “my side” when they were digging in the same place, but eventually Mark’s shovel hit metal. Both men looked at each other and then back down again as Mark hit it again with a loud clang that...didn’t actually sound right, now that they thought about it.

Dark knelt, careful not to let his knees actually touch the ground, and brushed the loose dirt away as Mark bent down next to him, both having just enough time to realize the rusted metal was that of a pipe before it broke open, unleashing a brief but sour spray of stagnant water into both of their faces.

After that, they found a different yet suspiciously similar statue on the other side of the yard, and a pink-mustached man waiting for them, standing on the plinth with his arm wrapped around the statue’s shoulder like they were an old friend, beaming when he noticed them.

“Well, there you two are! I was starting to wonder, you know.”

“Wait, you knew where I was going?” Dark asked. “Then why did you pretend not to know?”

“Know what?” Wilford gave the statue a peck on the cheek and leapt down onto the grass beside them. “Well, are you two just going to stand around here, or are we going to open this thing?”

He held out a dirty, banged-up tin case, the rust on its hinges doing more to keep it shut than the cheap lock used all those years ago.

Mark looked down and around, noting the lack of holes or any sign of a shovel or other digging instrument as he asked, “How did you get that?”

Wilford stared at him, mildly puzzled as he asked, “What, like it was hard?”

Mark’s tactical shovel dealt with the lock easily, and also left a gash in the side of the box that earned him a glare from Dark that he tried to ignore as he forced open the box to reveal its contents: a set of envelopes, childish handwriting addressing each to Mark, Damien, and William, a tiny metal soldier that Wilford picked up with a smile along with a few other old-fashioned toys, and a faded photograph that Mark lifted out gently, as though afraid it might fall apart in his hands.

Dark looked over his shoulder at the three boys posed for the camera, laughing with their arms thrown around each other. He felt a stir in his chest, a brief flicker of something that faded into a sad nostalgia.

He wondered if Mark thought the same thing, about how none of those three boys were still here, not really. Not after everything they had gone through, after what they had done and attempted to atone for, whatever that might be worth now. Dark had no illusions about what little Damien might think of him, the dark figure of noise and ringing and strange shadows that followed his every movement. Did Mark feel the same way? And what of Wilford, did he even recognize the three young faces smiling back at them?

Dark glanced at him and found Wilford smiling as he pulled an old compass that, surprisingly, still turned in his hand alongside a crinkly map drawn in what looked suspiciously like crayon. There was a twinkle in Wilford’s eye as he asked, “Do you two know where this leads?”

Mark looked at the map and frowned, while Dark shook his head and admitted, “I don’t recall making a map.”

“Well then, I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

Wilford jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the time capsule out of Mark’s hands as he pulled the two of them up with him. “Who’s ready for round two of this treasure hunt?”

Mark closed the box and tucked it under his arm, then hefted his shovel with a look at Dark that he actually could understand.

“We did come all the way for this, might as well see what else is here, right?”

Dark sighed, feigning indifference as he said, “Well, I didn’t have anything else planned today...”

“Fantastic!” Wilford grinned and spread out the map so they could look. With any luck, neither of them would notice the crayons stashed in his back pocket, or how the map they were studying didn’t look quite as old as it should have.

[captainkappa]

Fanfic:: Hunter and Prey

To be a Mandalorian pirate is to be both hunter and prey. This, Din understood after being taken into their care as a child.

Now he is hunting a Mandalorian artifact to deliver his charge to the aquatic sorcerers in order to teach him how to handle his magic. His quest brings him to a sandy stretch of shore, Mos Pelgo.

Link to AO3

For Day 4 of @dincobbweek aka AU day!

The prophecy as foretold; I have a hyperfixation, therefore I must write a pirate AU. And oh my god, I loved writing this fic so so much.

Huge shout out to @staranon95 for betaing and @ayantiel for providing the needed inspiration to get this thing going!

-=-=-=-

Mayfeld took in a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. There was a lot riding on today, his reputation, Ran’s reputation, but with the Empire’s finest knelt at his feet, all of their note-worthy possessions, he thought he was doing pretty well.

“No one makes any dumb decisions and you all will get to live,” he called out, voice carrying over the wind so even the poor bastards at the end would be able to hear. “We’re just here for what’s ours and then we’ll leave you be. You’ll never have seen us.”

Xi’an was getting her brother from the prisoners down below and Burg was raiding the captain’s office. Sure, the objective was to get Xi’an’s brother before he made it to the Empire’s colonies, but this was an Imperial vessel. The three of them would have to be stupid not to rob the Imps blind when they had the opportunity.  Plus, their informant assured them that not only was this a prisoner’s vessel, it was a transport vessel, moving a map that led to a whole lot of Mandalorian gold.

It was the perfect plan; do a job for Ran, undermine Ran, get filthy rich, and live the rest of their days on an island in the Outer Isles.

And everything was going great, when Burg burst through the captain’s doors, startling everyone on board. Everyone jumped, bar Mayfeld. Burg cut an intimidating figure, a mountain of a man, horns poking through holes he made in his hat so he had to crouch to get into most places. His sudden presence didn’t startle Migs. What was a surprise was the concern on his face.

“Migs! The captain is dead!”

He rolled his eyes. “And? Do you want me to pay you back for the ammo it took to do that?”

“No, he was already dead! And the map’s gone too!”

His blood ran cold. He gave up the act and ran into the room, grabbing onto his hat so it wouldn’t fly away. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. He couldn’t tell if there had been a scuffle or it had been Burg who had torn up the room. Drawers were half open, hanging out, papers scattered, a blood-spatter, maybe, but there was so little Migs couldn’t tell if it was recent.

And in the center of it all, the captain, dead in his chair. His body was cool, so Burg wasn’t bluffing in saying someone had shot him before. There had been a lot of commotion when they had first boarded the ship, could the thief have entered then?

“You swear he was like this when you got in?”

Burg nodded.

“And he wasn’t holding a pistol?”

Burg nodded again and the evidence confirmed it. There was only one pistol in the room, halfway across the floor. That didn’t happen when someone tried to off themself for fear of the pirates coming on board.

Migs pushed the body to the floor, getting on his knees to root through the drawers, hoping to find the map, to be able to smack Burg upside the head, but there was nothing. He ripped them out of the desk, holding them upside down and shaking them, but still nothing. Just useless documentation with Imperial seals splayed everywhere.

He slammed the top of the desk as he stood up.

“Did you check everywhere?! Every possible drawer, false drawer, any of that bullshit?”

“Yeah! But it ain’t here!”

Migs pulled off his hat, balling up the rim in fist before throwing it back on.

Ran would tell him not to get greedy. There was an unknown element at play now, so focus on getting Qin out and run. With the group back to what it was before Mando sold them out, they could rob big ships again, but who the fuck cared about that. If Ran knew about the map, he would’ve said to hell with Qin, focus on the pay-out.

Migs stormed out of the quarters and back onto the deck. It was too sunny to see, but that didn’t stop his furious walk back to the line of Imperials on the ship. He grabbed the one in the fanciest looking clothing, who he could only assume was the quartermaster or second mate, and hauled him to his feet by his collar.

The man made a choking sound and face-to-face, looked at Migs with terror.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“Wh-Wh-Wh-?”

“The fucking map! Lost Mandalorian treasure? I need it, and if you don’t, Burg here will make sure you meet those fucking dead ass Mandalorians that hid it in the first place.”

Something must’ve gotten the man brave, because he said, “I thought Mandalorians were extinct, like you pirates are going to be.”

And as if signing his death wish, he spat on the floorboards near his feet.

Well, Migs wanted a nice clean run, but he had a reputation to uphold.

He threw the man back down to the floor and before he could get his arms out from under him, Migs pulled out his flintlock pistol and aimed it at him.

He was a second away from painting the floor with this asshole, when Xi’an ran out from under the deck, her brother trailing behind.

“Captain! It’s Mando!”

That made Migs whip his head up. “Mando? Here?”

She nodded. “We saw him climbing down. Port side, now!”

The four of them raced to the railing, watching as the small craft sped away, faster than any ship could hope to move. She flew familiar colors, the flag of someone who had sold Qin out in the first place.

Migs thought today couldn’t get any worse.

Then the flare went out, bright and brilliant even in the daytime sky. An Imperial flare, that would’ve had to have come from the captain’s quarters, that they wouldn’t have been able to spot in the chaos of the room, that was absolutely going to call every Imperial ship in a hundred miles radius.

Fuck.

Fucker didn’t even have the decency to flip them off as he sailed away.

-=-

Din keeps his eyes low to the ground, brim of his hat pulled low over his head, scarf pulled round his face as he weaves in the crowd. It’s Nevarro, so he knows he blends in with the rest of the criminals that inhabit the port town, but he finds himself more cautious these days.

Especially with the small cargo at his side.

It’s only when he takes a corner into a dark alley, down a set of stairs just off the tavern, into the gloom, does he look at the bag at his side.

As they passed a torch on the wall, the Child looked up at him and beamed, his pointy teeth just coming in, ears unfurling as he lifted the flap.

“You doing ok?”

The child babbled in reply.

“Good, we’ll be there soon.”

For what was basically an underground network for a bunch of criminals, it was surprisingly clean. There were puddles of brackish water that Din stepped around to avoid, along with passing others, but it wasn’t as piss-soaked as Nevarro was up top.

Hiding a whole community under a criminal network didn’t seem like the smartest idea at first, but the thing about criminals is they can either be paid off or disappeared with little problem. As he stepped around a pair of running children, he hoped there would be one day Mandalorians wouldn’t have to hide. He had no idea how that would happen, but no one had ever died on hope.

They finally arrived at their destination, a door on the far side of the hallway. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the familiar voice say, “Enter.”

She was already sitting at a table, a bottle of rum in front of her, a candle burning, doing its best to light up the space. Her hat was beside her, feathers drooping so they touched the brim. He made a mental note to pick up more on his next supply run.

He took off his hat as he shut the door behind him, keeping his bandana firmly in place.

“How was your trip?” the Quartermaster asked coolly, picking up the bottle to pour him a drink. It had been years since she had manned a ship, but the title still carries in their community.

He pulled out both the kid and treasure from the bag, setting the kid down on the ground to run around the space before sitting across from her.

“Successful.”

He spread out the map in front of the Quartermaster. He heard those fools talking about Mandalorian gold, and it wasn’t entirely true. It was a map to a compass that would reveal what the holder most desired, which for some might be Mandalorian pirate gold or power or love.

Or the location of the aquatic sorcerers the child needed.

The child wasn’t fully human. He needed to spend a lot of time in water in order to spend time on land, which meant a lot of time spent swimming alongside the Razor Crest. He could also shoot water up out of the ocean, a gift Din was well acquainted with, it being one of the child’s favorite games to play.

Since he had failed to fully deliver the child to the Empire, he had had privateers and other pirates on their tail for months. This map was their last hope to make sure the child got back with his people and then…

And then Din would go back to what he did best; providing for a people now scattered by his actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the Quartermaster’s chair scraping back. She stood up, only to bow over again, her back parallel to the table. She moved her scarf to the side so her lips could ghost over the map as she spoke words of power into the paper.

She stood back up fully as the ink on the map shifted and moved. Waves rolled in place, sea serpents dipped in and out of the surface, all the while the path moved like an eel, slippery and changing, until everything at last was at rest and the ink seeped back into the page.

All three bowed their heads over the map. The starting point of the path was now the tiny cluster of islands of Nevarro and the end point was…

“Tatooine?” he asked out loud. “They’re basically land locked. What would a Mandalorian be doing there?”

Tatooine was a coastal stretch of land, surrounded by jagged rocks and ship-wrecks on one side and impassable mountains on the other, with desert in the valley.

She raised her head, scarf now back in place. “I suspect you’ll find out when you go there.”

He nodded and the child cooed. Din looked over at the child grabbing at the map, hands scratching at the lines like he could pick them back up.

“Come on, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

-=-

Din sailed into Mos Pelgo, following the instructions Peli had given him.

“You have to arrive at low tide, that’s the only way you’ll see all the shit you have to get through. If you haven’t decided to turn tail and leave, you have to keep to the south. If you go north, you’re dead. Last I heard, there’s a pile of sticks they call a dock if you keep going south.”

The dock was a simple thing, as she’d said. Rotten wood, with just one post tall enough to hold the rope to the ship. Din was half tempted to jump straight into the water and swim to shore rather than test the strength of the wood, but resisted the urge with the Child in his bag.

He could see the town in the distance and set off on the beach, letting the Child out to stomp around on the beach.

The town was small, a couple of shacks on stilts for the stormy season. Few people were out, and those that were openly stared at the two of them. Din paid them no mind, one goal in his head.

He walked into the cantina, knowing if there ever was a way to learn about a town, it was going to their cantina first.

And not half a minute of talking with the Weequay bartender, the “Captain” walked in. The man wasn’t a Mandalorian, his face was bare, showing off white hair, sun-freckled pale skin, and a well-trimmed beard. His coat was sturdy, but patched to high heaven, with a bright red scarf around his neck. He wore the compass on his belt like he was flaunting it. It made Din’s blood boil. If Din were a younger man, he would’ve shot him right there for it.

But he tried talking. The compass should be in the hands of a Mandalorian. The Captain swore up and down he had gotten it fairly and therefore it should be his.

“I’ve given you an easy out already. Take it off,” Din said, “Or I will.”

“We gonna do this in front of the kid?”

“He’s seen worse.”

The Captain stood, fingers already itching for the flintlock on his hip, no doubt preloaded like Din’s were. They were interrupted by cries from outside. The Captain holds up a hand before smoothly exiting the cantina. Din follows, but stops in the doorframe to take it all in.

There were several broken fishing boats being led through the rocky shores, dragged onto the sands, people shouting, people carrying others. The Captain was in the middle of it all, shouting orders, trying to bring organization to the chaos.

In the distance, was the unmistakable view of a large tentacle slipping beneath the waves.

Din didn’t want to get in the way of this organized chaos, but then a twi’lek with scarred lekku was shoving bandages into his arms and gesturing over to a house across the way. Din wasn’t going to say no to that.

The house was quieter than outside, only pained whimpers and soft, hushed voices. A collection of wooden splinters already piled beside the bed as the doctor continued to take tweezers to one of the people who came in. Din placed the bandages by their side before stepping back, nearly colliding with the Captain.

He looked at the scene with a pensive expression. Immediately, Din could see that his care for his people went further than words. There was corded energy in those shoulders, anger that wanted to be released at the creature that did this to his people.

The Captain ushered him out of the room.

As they walked back to the cantina, the Captain said, “How about this; you help me with the kraken, I give you back your compass.”

“Deal.”                                                                                                          

-=-

The Captain led him past the edge of town to the cliff’s edge. On the journey he told his name was Cobb Vanth; Din held off on his own introduction.

“None of us are much for traveling,” Cobb said, “but the kraken planted itself right where we normally fish. Even when I send people to fish in a different spot, the damn thing follows after. We’ll be starved out sooner rather than later.”

They crested over the hill and the expanse of ocean fell before them. The kraken was visible from the cliffs, a dark mark under the waters, swimming languidly around the coast.

Din did a mental inventory of what he had on the Razor Crest; a handful of spears, a harpoon, some rope. Cobb had shown him the town’s stores before they left. It wasn’t going to be enough.

He stepped back from the ledge, back where Cobb is. “Is there a Tusken encampment nearby?”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “The Tuskens? But they’re-”

“They know the coast and water better than anyone. We can’t kill it with just the two of us.”

“If they know the area then won’t they want to… I don’t know, not kill it?”

“Then, we’ll just have to ask.”

“Ask? You don’t ask a Tusken anything.”

He could, in fact, ask a Tusken for things. Din was thankful for the cloth in front of his face, masking most of his pride as he watched Cobb’s jaw drop as he asked the Tuskens for their help. It turned out, they did want help in defeating the kraken. Its sudden appearance had also affected their fishing.

They had to travel further to where the kraken had made his home. Din stayed in the back with Cobb, where he seemed more comfortable.

Cobb also apparently liked to talk when he’s nervous.

“So, you spend your days on the ocean? All the time?”

“Mhm. Do you spend all your days on land?”

“Mostly. I used to be on a ship, but not like you. I was a galley slave on an Imperial ship, but before then I had dreams of being as free as you, traveling the waters on a boat with a crew of my own.” His face fell. “Haven’t thought about that dream… for a while.”

To have something that should have meant freedom be taken away from you, Din couldn’t imagine.

“But you escaped?”

“Kriff, yes. Raised a mutiny, sunk those fuckers to the bottom of the sea. I found the compass in the captain’s drawers and it pointed us here. Few more people joined, some left, but it’s as home as we can get.”

Din could only nod. He found himself surprised with the thought that he was glad that Cobb got the compass. He had no idea what the Empire was doing with a Mandalorian artifact, but it was definitely put to better use finding people a home.

They made camp up in the dunes. Din had to waste a bullet, firing into the air to disrupt the startings of a fight between Cobb and the Tuskens. Planning was slightly easier after that.

He took off his coat, bundling it up into a nest for the child to sit in. He rolled up his sleeves to free up his arms as he continued translating. He noticed Cobb looking at the tattoos that traveled up his arms. He doesn’t comment on it.

-=-

Small boats littered the coastline the next day. The plan was for people from both the Tusken band and Mos Pelgo would distract the kraken long enough for a boat of explosives to be set up and ignited close enough to kill it but not the people.

It doesn’t go great.

There were enough boats in the water to pick up people who capsized in the wake of the monster’s waves, the thing lashing out as folks took pot shots with pistols and arrows. They managed to set the boat laden with explosives off in its direction, but when the time came to ignite, the explosion happened, but it just managed to scratch the beast.

Din reached for the harpoons he brought as backup. He and Cobb try firing at the kraken, but they skim off its skin.

The Tuskens were still firing their weapons at the creature. Mos Pelgans took turns firing guns and reloading in turn. All it did was keep the creature at bay, which wouldn’t last long at all. He needed to think of something to kill the creature or everyone here would die.

He furtively scanned around the deck for something, anything. His gaze landed on the extra explosives they had kept on hand. The monster’s skin was too thick for the explosions to take but elsewhere…

Din doesn’t think, he just moves. He grabbed as many sticks of dynamite as he could, stuffing them in the pockets of his coat. There was a coil of rope tied off to the railing, which he took and wrapped around his waist. Even after years of living on ships, his hands shook as he tried to tie it. Suddenly, Cobb was in front of him, taking the rope from his hands and tying it tight around his midsection.

He pulled it hard, once, twice, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you gonna do?” Cobb asked.

“I’m not sure,” Din said, pulling the rope tighter around his waist.

“Then what should I do?”

Din looked at him, really looked at this man who was willing to do so much for his community in light of so much hardship in his own life. He looked back at the dark shape in the water racing for their boats

He took off his hat and tossed it at Cobb. “Take care of the Child.”

And before Cobb could do anything beyond catch the hat, Din leaped off the side of the ship. He couldn’t tell if Cobb shouted anything after him as the kraken burst from the water. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he fell straight into the kraken’s maw.

-=-

It was nothing but darkness inside the beast. Even with the scarf over his nose, the scent of salt water and death was everywhere. He dug himself in the mouth of the beast, boots scraping against bony protuberances in the things throat. He emptied his pockets as fast as he could while holding on for dear life as the monster bucked and screamed.

He hoped the kraken was out of range of the boat.

When he was left with one explosive left, he fished around in his pockets for his matchbook. He struck the match and lit the explosive before chucking it down with all the others like it.

He turned and clawed at the kraken’s beak, heart pounding in his chest. If he doesn’t get out of here before the explosion goes off-

Suddenly, a roaring filled his ears and a mass of hot air flung him out of the monster. His scarf twists around his head and he can’t see anything as he flails. He landed hard in the water and then it was silent as the dark water pulled him down.

He wasn’t sure how long he drifted. The shock of cold water and the heaviness of his coat made movement impossible.

He didn’t regret asking Cobb to take care of the child, he’d be in good hands.

Something wrapped around his waist and pulled. Din tried to resist, not sure if he was being dragged toward air or to his death, but his arms were useless, heavy and leaden. He had no strength and so he let it happen.

And then they broke through the surface of the water, a cool wind icing his skin instantly. He took a shuddering breath and nearly choked on water and his sopping wet scarf. Hands came up and pulled the scarf off his face. He coughed, chest shuddering with each intake of breath. He realized he’s being held, arms around his waist, and it isn’t until he can take a full breath did he finally bother to wipe salt water from his eyes and look at who was holding him.

It was Cobb. His hat and coat were off, red shirt darkened to maroon with all the water. He was searching his face for… something.

Din took a breath, resisting the urge to cough again. “I thought I said- you need to take care of the kid!”

“I am!” Cobb said, holding his head up to avoid a passing wave. “By making sure his daddy lives!”

Cobb maneuvers his arms so he’s gripping a floating piece of rowboat. It’s thankfully big enough that when Din leans his whole weight on it, he doesn’t sink back into the ocean.

“Everyone okay?”

Cobb gave him a look that Din thinks means he’s stupid. “Yes, thanks to you, partner.”

They only have to tread water for a couple of minutes before a rowboat headed by the twi’lek Issa-Or arrives. Cobb makes sure Din is pulled aboard before climbing in himself.

-=-

They stayed the night. Din isn’t in any position to argue with Cobb’s hospitality. He didn’t think he’d be able to turn the wheel on the Razor Crest let alone sail it out of harbor.

Cobb opened his house to them. It was a small abode, raised off the ground like the others. Its small size made it even more obvious the telescope and sextant were on display on the only table in the main room.

Din wanted to pass out then and there, but Cobb firmly set him in one of the wooden chairs before disappearing behind the one door in the house. He returned with a roll of bandages and water. He thought it was to drink, until Cobb started peeling back the wet layers of Din’s clothes to reveal burns and scratches he hadn’t even felt. Cobb dips a rag into the freshwater, rinsing out the salt and detritus from the wounds.

He worked in silence, both too exhausted from the day to say much. They could hear the sounds of the party outside, Tusken and Mos Pelgan alike celebrating the death of the beast.

A drunken group walked past and the two of them can hear the butchered shanty they sing. They glanced to the window then to each other, sharing hidden smiles.

All patched up, Cobb gave him the bed and set something up for the child. Din knew he should be aware of his host, should know where his host himself is sleeping the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with exhaustion tugging him into the bed.

Voices from the other room kept him up,  cracking one eye open to focus on the now familiar drawl.

“You know, in the past few days, whenever I looked at the compass for a sign of how to kill the kraken, it always pointed out to sea. I didn’t know what that meant, if I had to go sailing for a kraken expert or find a sunken treasure that would kill the kraken. I don’t know, I was getting desperate. But now… I’m thinking it might’ve been pointing to your dad.”

He heard the child’s burbles of delight and finally, finally, he slid into unconsciousness.

-=-

Din woke up to the sun shining in his eyes, light reflecting off the compass placed on the pillow that wasn’t there last night. Any lingering drowsiness left him when he realized what it is.

The Mandalorian compass.

He grabbed it and opened it up, thinking about Grogu and the teacher he needed. The arrow spun around, until stopping, hovering at a point out back toward the ocean.

A heading. He had a heading.

He fell back into the bed, just staring at the compass. It was embedded in a box made of dark wood, carvings all around the edges, Mando’a script, if he had to guess. It’s incomprehensible, chipped to the point of  being illegible.  

Something in the bed crinkled as he shifted. He turned and searched for the source and founda scrap of paper. It took a moment for him to parse, but it was just Cobb letting him know he had business to attend to and he would be back when Din left.

Right... they had to leave this town to continue their quest.

He reminded himself of that as he went out to find the child. The house sounded suspiciously quiet for all the mischief the child got into.

-=-

They got their affairs in order quicker than expected. Some people had spent the night alongside the Tuskens preparing the kraken meat to distribute to the rest of the town – and Din, apparently.

It seemed like the whole town had come out to see them off. They apparently had held off giving their thanks until they knew he was conscious. Din looked over the grateful townspeople’s heads to see Issa talking intently with Cobb. When Cobb glanced over his way, he ducked his head back down.

Normally he would sneak out of this kind of attention, but the kid was eating it up, beaming like he was the one who took down the beast, so Din went down the line, nodding respectfully at every given comment.

By the time he got to the end of the line, he was already ready to take a nap, but he raised a hand to bid them all good-bye and turned to walk out of town.

“Mando!”

Din turned around to see Cobb running after him, heel kicking up sand.

He stops in front of him. “Do you- do you need help on your quest?”

“Are you offering? Thought you had a town to look after.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, the kraken was our biggest threat, and with the peace brokered with the Tuskens, there’s not much for me here.”

Din tried to tamp down his excitement, not believing what he was hearing. “You still have your sea legs?”

“Long as you don’t lock me up below deck, I should get them just fine.”

“I’d never,” he said quickly. 

Cobb smiled. “Well then, permission to come aboard?”

Din hoped Cobb could tell he was smiling behind the bandana. “Granted.”

-=-

As they sailed out of port, Din kept glancing at Cobb, who was fidgeting up a storm. He kept tapping his fingers against the railing, glancing out at the disappearing coastline.

Finally, after even the Child was tapping on his pant leg to point out Cobb’s unease for him, he hatched a plan. He affixed the wheel so it wouldn’t turn on its own. Then he went about setting the sails and ropes for the same task, keeping them on course while Din took care of Cobb.

“We can still head back if you want to,” he said as he approached the other man.

Cobb turned over his shoulder. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I’ve… My friends know I’m not exactly made for land.”

“Oh?”

Cobb flipped his scarf up to wipe at his head. “Before we made landfall at Mos Pelgo, we took out a few Imperial ports. Small things that we only noticed because of the ships with galley slaves, but… I ain’t felt that alive in a while.”

Din fished the compass out from his pocket, flicking it open. The arrow spun lazily, pointing back to Cobb for a second before spinning around in the direction they were sailing, the same direction it had pointed when he thought about what Grogu needed.

He snapped it shut, coming up to stand beside Cobb.

“I’m sure we’ll run into something along the way. Here, I’ve got something to show you.”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Din bit his lip, glad for the bandana. “Do you trust me?”

Cobb chuckled. “I would have to be an idiot to sail out to who knows where with a man I didn’t trust.”

Din nodded. “Then let it be a surprise.”

Cobb acquiesced, letting himself be led to the middle of the deck. When they were under the main mast, Din grabbed the main line in one hand, pulling Cobb close with the other. He ignored how his cheeks flushed with the sudden closeness.

“Hold on tight,” he said.

“Wha-?” That’s all Cobb got out before Din flicked the switch with his foot and the two of them went rocketing up toward the crow’s nest. Cobb’s arms circled around him like a vice, his shouts lost in the wind.

Din made sure Cobb got in the basket before he did, especially when he realized his eyes were shut.

“Cobb, open your eyes.”

Cobb cracked one eye open and then both flew open as he realized what he was seeing. Glittering blue ocean, as far as the eye could see. There were two dots in the far distance, ships of some sort.

There was no better way to experience the vastness of it all, than looking at it from above.

He glanced at Cobb and saw his eyes tearing up a bit.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, letting Cobb take it all in. This was what being on the ocean was supposed to mean, freedom and possibility, beauty and wonder. Din didn’t expect to do much in laying a balm over Cobb’s past, but he hoped he could communicate with this view that he wanted to help when he could.

Cobb turned to face him and Din knew he understood.

“Thank you, Mando.”

“Din, my name is Din Djarin.”

“Then thank you, Din.” And to his surprise, he leaned over and kissed him just above where the scarf covered his face.

Neither of them acknowledged it, except for an exchange of eye contact. Neither could contain the mirth in the crinkles of their eyes.

“We should start plotting a course, shouldn’t we, Captain?” Cobb asked.

“Yes, Captain.”

[americancowgirl19]

Mutant not Monster - Part One

Part One: Background; this is basically a background part. Dean will be in the next part with Sam. I highly recommend you read this part so you can understand the plot.

Summary: Y/n and her twin brother, Warren, are both mutants. In a world where mutants aren’t accepted, Y/n and her brother have to go on the run as anti-mutant extremists begin hunting their kind down. Sam and Dean are hunters, just not mutant hunters. However, their paths cross and despite a rocky beginning they become allies against not only the war against mutants but the war against mankind. 

Warnings: angst, curse, fluff, anti-mutant terrorism

Reader: Female Reader; Y/n Worthington 

Pairings: (Eventual) Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,794

A/n: This is more of my own mini story than a specific part of X-Men and Supernatural. I’ll stick as close to supernatural as I can but if you see things that are different than they were in the show, just roll with it. This is kind of a crossover with X-Men and Supernatural but I’m just doing my own thing with the X-Men characters and Supernatural. I’m not going along with any specific movie or comic book. When Dean and Sam come in it’ll technically take place around the season 4 of Supernatural where they know about angels. Also gif is from google and it’s Miley Cyrus from the ‘Can’t Be Tamed’ music video.

Part Two

Masterlist

1989 - Y/n POV - Reader is 9

“Warren slow down!” I shouted after my brother as he scales up the tree. I try to keep up with him but struggle to maintain a steady grip on the bark. My twin brother just laughs and continues to climb branch after branch.

“Y/n! Warren! Be careful!” Our mother shouts approaching the tree. I take a second to look down at her. She stands by the trunk with her arms crossed. Her eyes squint as she looks up into the tree but I doubt she can see us through the branches and leaves. “Don’t climb too high!”

“Come on, Y/n,” Warren says regaining my attention. He motions for me to continue following him. Huffing I reach for the next branch and pull myself up.

“How much farther? Mom doesn’t want us too high,” I tell him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” Warren says ignoring the uneasiness in my voice. While I didn’t have a fear of heights, in fact I liked being higher than everyone else, I was afraid of losing my grip from being too tired. As much as I tried to keep up with my brother he seemed to have energy for days.

“Warren, look at this,” I say finding a birds nest. My brother looks down at me before quickly climbing to my spot.

“Wow,” He whispers as the newly hatched birds chirp for their parents. “They’ll be big enough to fly before we know it,” He tells me.

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to fly?” I ask looking at him.

“All the time,” He says. “I wonder what it’s like to soar with the birds and fly through clouds,”

“You’ll probably get wet,” I warn him. “Clouds are water after all,” Warren shrugs.

“Never been afraid of a few rain drops,” He smirks at me. I smile rolling my eyes. I look back at the baby birds.

“Warren! Y/!” Our mother shouts for us again. “Come down from there, it’s time for supper!”

“Can’t she see we’re busy in the tree?” Warren grumbles. I laugh.

“Come on, I’ll race you to the bottom,” I challenge him. He smirks and begins climbing down at the same time I do.

“If I win, I get your ice cream!” Warren shouts.

“Like hell you will!” I shout back.

“Language, Y/n!” Mother scolds.

“Yeah, language, Birdie,” Warren teases.

“Oh, why don’t you- Ah!” I screech when my feet slide off the branch. I go to cling to the tree but I fail to get a grip. Before I can fall too far Warren has my hand in his.

“I’ve got you!” Warren says quickly.

“Don’t you dare drop me, Warren Worthington!” I shout holding his hand as tightly as I can.

“Never,” Warren reassures me with a playful grin before swinging me to the next branch.

1994 - Y/n POV - Y/n is 14

“St. Joes Catholic School?” I ask with disbelief in my voice. “They’ve got to be kidding, right?” I ask my brother as I flop down on his bed. He walks into the room after me and shuts the door.

“I don’t think they are,” Warren says taking a seat at his desk chair.

“Why are they sending us away?” I whisper but don’t expect an answer. In fact, I’m terrified of what the answer would be. Warren stays quiet as he mulls over the information our parents just dropped on us. “We never fit in here,” I admitted whilst sitting up. Warren glances at me. “They may be our parents but we’re practically strangers to them. We share nothing in common with them except some similarities in our looks. We don’t belong here Warren and they know it,” I sigh looking down at my fingers.

I expect Warren to argue against me like he usually does. This isn’t the first time I’ve voiced my opinions on this matter. Ever since I could remember I’ve felt as if Warren and I were outcasts in our own home. Our parents used to try and connect with us but they gave up years ago.

I didn’t even notice Warren standing up until the bed sinks beside me. I spare him a glance before looking back at my hands. We sit in silence for a few moments before I lay my head on his shoulder. His head soon rests on top of mine.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find a place where we belong,” He reassures me. “We’ll find a home,” I smile as my mind begins imagining what this home would look like. “It’ll be a place where we do fit in and we’re not strangers,”

“As long as you promise we’ll stay together,” I say lifting my head. Warren looks at me. “Don’t you dare leave me, Warren Worthington,”

“Never,” Warren smirks winking at me. “Lighten up a bit, Birdie,” He says nudging my shoulder. “Who knows, maybe St. Joes Catholic School is where we’ll find people to connect too,” He shrugs.

“It would be nice to talk to someone who doesn’t have your ugly mug,” I comment standing from the bed.

“Well, it shouldn’t be hard for me to find someone who doesn’t crack mirrors when they look in them,” Warren fires back. I don’t dignify him with a verbal response. I simply flip him the bird and leave his room.

1997 - Y/n POV - Reader is 17

“Go Warren! Run!” I scream from the stands as my brother overtakes the lead runner in the track meet. I clap loudly and scream when he takes first place without a problem.

“He won! He won!” My brothers girlfriend, Amanda, shouts from beside me. We jump up and down together before laughing excitedly. 

When the meet ends the two of us instantly go looking for my twin. I weave through the crowd in his direction. Amanda follows me knowing all too well about my inner Warren Compass. It didn’t matter where I was or where he was, we could always find each other. Amanda also swears that we have some sort of telepathy between us or that we could read each other’s mind. While I knew that neither of those things were true, I did have a sixth sense when it came to my brother. Warren has the same feeling about me as well.

“There he is!” Amanda shouts surpassing me to go to her boyfriend. Warren spins around and pulls her into his arms. She giggles as he spins her around. I gag when they romantically kiss.

“Did you see my last run?” Warren asks us.

“Of course, baby,” Amanda smirks leaning into him not even caring about his drying sweat.

“You mean the one where you look like a flailing chicken without a head?” I ask before doing a dramatic imitation. Amanda snorts while Warren lunges for me. I laugh evading his attempts to put me in a head lock.

“Ok! Ok!” Amanda shouts getting between us. “I want to get back to the dorms, get cleaned up, and go to the party,”

“Hell yeah, baby,” Warren smirking lighting up at the mention of a party. Amanda shakes her head wondering where he gets all his energy. It didn’t matter that he just spent all day running, he still has enough energy to take over the world.

It doesn’t take us long to get back to the dorms and cleaned up. Warren promises to meet us at the party before going to take a shower. Amanda and I both go to the bathroom to do our makeup and to get changed.

“Oh my God, is your back ok?” Amanda instantly asks.

“Um, it’s fine?” I say turning towards her.

“Where did you get all of those bruises?” She wonders.

“Bruises?” I ask before going toward the mirror. “Oh, shit,” I whisper seeing them. They weren’t too bad but they were definitely noticeable. 

“What they hell are you doing when I’m not there to supervise you?” Amanda laughs while returning to her makeup.

“I don’t know,” I whisper to myself. I take another moment to stare at the bruises before shaking my head.

A couple weeks pass and the bruises don’t leave. In fact, the grow darker. I take extra care with how I move but it doesn’t matter. The bruising just continues to get worse until things start to get even weirder.

I wake up in my bad with a sore back. That’s nothing new, it’s practically my norm by now. However, waking up to find several feathers in my bed is new. I sit there in confusion as I wonder where the hell these feathers have come from.

“Y/n! Open up!” Warren shouts slamming his fist against my door repeatedly. “Open the door!”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I shout hopping out of bed. He doesn’t stop knocking until I let him in. “What the hell?”

“You’re getting random bruising too?” Warren asks the instant I close my door.

“How do you know about that?” I ask.

“Amanda told me,” He said. I frown my eyebrows wondering why now, all of the sudden, she’s telling him about my bruised back. “She told me because of this,” He takes his shirt off and turns his back to me.

“Jesus, Warren,” I whisper looking at his bruises. They’re similar to mind in shape but they’re much darker and slightly bigger. “Wait,” I whisper stepping closer. I run my finger along a section of his back and he instantly flinches away from me.

“Uh, ow!” Warren snaps.

“Sorry!” I raise my hands defensively. “But you have something coming out of your back,”

“What?” He frowns his eyebrows and I nod. He goes to my full length mirror. He then notices the nubs that I pointed out. “Turn around,” He says coming over to me. I do as he says feeling nervous that he might find the same happening to my back.

“I woke up with feathers in my bed,” I whisper holding back a flinch when he touches my bruises.

“Sorry,” He whispers noticing me tense. “You have the same thing happening,” I slowly turn towards him. “I have feathers in my bed too... I thought they were from my pillows but...” His voice trails off.

“What’s happening to us, Warren?” I whisper. He pushes his lips together.

“I don’t know, Birdie,” He whispers back.

1997 - Y/n POV - Reader is 17

“Warren! Warren, open the door!” I shout pounding on his door like he had mine a week previous. “Warren, I know you’re in there, now open the damn door before I break it down,” I growled hitting the door even harder.

A few moments later my puffy eyed brother opens the door just enough for me to slide in before closing it again. He hangs his head as I stare at him. When he sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve I snap out of my trance.

“Come here,” I whisper pulling him into a tight hug. I frown my eyebrows when I feel something on his back but I don’t pull away. He holds me so tight that it’s hard to breathe but I just hold him. “What happened?” I whisper.

“She kept asking questions,” He tells me after a few minutes. “She kept wanting to know about the bruises and I just... I couldn’t tell her,” I close my eyes and hold him even closer. I try to hold onto him but he pushes me away. “Then this happens,” He whispers sniffling as he takes off his shirt. I look at his chest before giving him a look. He turns around and I gasp.

Two small white wings have sprouted from his shoulder blades. They look like a baby birds wings. Not nearly big enough to fly nor hold his weight. Despite they’re small size they’re beautiful.

Then it clicks. Our backs have been going through the exact same transition. Slowly, I step back to his bad and fall on it. Warren quickly pulls on his shirt again.

“We’re mutants,” I whisper.

“Yeah,” Warren whispers.

“We’re mutants,” I whisper again. Warren sighs walking over to me. The bed bounces slightly when he collapses beside me.

“Yeah,” He repeats. We lay on his bed in silence as we try to come to terms with the... new development. “I quit track,” He tells me. “Not like I’d be able to hide these things at practices and meets... Plus who knows how big they’ll grow,”

“Warren,” I whisper lowly. “St. Joes is notorious for they’re anti-mutant beliefs,” I say slowly turning my head towards him. Warren continues to stare at the ceiling. He lets out a long sigh.

“Yeah,” He mutters.

“Shit,” I whisper.

1998 - Y/n POV - Reader is 18

‘Y/n Worthington,’

I frown my eyebrows as I slow to a walk in the middle of the empty hallway. I look around for the voice who said my name. However, the few people in the hallway pay no mind to me.

‘Y/n Worthington’ The voice says again. ‘My name is Charles Xavier and I am a mutant like you,’

“I don’t find that very comforting at the moment,” I mutter feeling standoffish. I can hear the voice laugh a bit.

‘No, I expect you wouldn’t’ He says. ‘I’ve been looking for you and your brother for a very long time,’

“Where are you?” I ask as I continue to search for him.

‘Not far from the school,’ He responds vaguely. ‘I need you to listen to me. There is someone on campus that wants to hurt you and your brother,’

“Warren,” I whisper no longer caring about this Charles Xavier. The only thing on my mind is finding Warren. Before I could start my wild goose chase the voice in my head tells me exactly where he is. I don’t bother to question him, I simply race to his location. “Oh my God,” I gasp seeing the building is engulfed in flames.

Before I even try to go into the fire something in the sky catches my attention. I then notice it’s Warren trying to save people. Sprinting into action, I leave the crowd. My pure black wings rip through my long jacket and take me to the sky towards my brother.

“There’s more people on the third floor!” Warren shouts over the noise of the crowd.

“There’s someone after us!” I shout to him.

“No shit! Who do you think started the fire?!” Warren snaps.

“Don’t get snippy with me, Angel!” I growl back at him.

“Just get the people out! I’ll handle the guy that’s trying to kill us,” Warren orders. I want to argue but Warren is already flying off and somebody has to get those people out.

My wings carry me into the building. They fold around my body protectively as I crash through a window and land on the hot floor. It takes some convincing but I finally get the people to trust me enough to allow me to get them to safety.

‘You’re brother is a mile to your left,’ Charles informs me. I send a silent thank you before quickly going towards Warren. I get to him in time to see him dropping a man to his death.

“Warren?” I ask slowly flying towards him. My large yet feminine keep me in the air beside my brother. Warren’s head hangs as he stares at the mans dead body on the ground below us.

‘If you both would join me, I’d like to talk with you,” Charles says in my head. I can only assume Warren hears him as well. 

“Angel?” I ask moving even closer to him.

“Let’s just go,” Warren says flying to where Charles wants us to meet him. I glance back to the dead body before flying after my brother.

1998 - Y/n POV - Reader is 18

“Wow,” I whisper walking towards Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

“Aren’t we a little old to be going to a school like this?” Warren asks as we follow behind Charles. I nod along with Warren’s question seeing as we’re both legally adults.

“This isn’t just a school for the gifted but a home,” Charles explains. Warren’s head snaps towards me at the same time mine snaps to him. “Here you can learn different skills you did not learn at your previous school. You will also meet students with various gifts, some like your own,” I slap Warren’s arm when I see a girl fly past us with wings that came off of a fairy. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish,”

“This place is amazing,” I laugh in wonder. Warren slowly beings to grin which only brightens my mood. Ever since the fire a few days ago, Warren’s smile has been nonexistent. 

“I’ll show you to your rooms, allow you to get settled,”

“Are we sharing a room?” Warren wonders.

“While school is in session, yes,” Charles nods. “But when most of the students return to their homes, you can have separate rooms,” I smile at my brother. Even though I didn’t exactly like sharing a room with him, it would be nice to have him close after someone had tried to kill us.

“Well, it’s not as big as the one at mom and dads but it’s cozy,” I say while walking around the room. Charles had left us to settle in a few seconds ago.

“Do you ever wonder what mom and dad are doing?” Warren wonders while tossing his suit case on one of the beds.

“Angel, they haven’t even contacted us since freshmen year,” I remind him. “The only thing they’ve done is financially support us and even that is over now,” I say sitting on my bed. “I try not to think about them because we don’t need them. We just need each other,” I say smiling at him.

“So, you’re saying I’m stuck with your ugly mug for the rest of my life?” Warren asks with a small smirk.

“Aren’t you a lucky duck?” I wink at him. Warren slowly shakes his head. “What happened?” I finally ask. “With that man that you let go?” My mind goes back to the day with the fire and how Warren had let a man fall to his death.

“I don’t even know his name,” Warren whispers. “Just some anti-mutant man,” He tells me. “He said our wings went against his religion and that we had to die,” I can feel my wings twitch but I don’t say anything. “I had him in my hands and I wanted to turn him into the police but then he went on and on about how he wasn’t just going to kill me but kill you as well... I just got so angry. He talked about how he was going to rip our wings off and rid the world of us. The thought of someone out there that wants to kill you as badly as he did made me so angry. Before I knew it I was letting him go and watching him fall.” Warren explains to me. I stand and walk over to him. Warren looks at me as I sit next to him. “I don’t regret killing him. I feel guilt about the fact that I’m not sad over his death,” He says. “But he threatened you, threatened us...” Warren sighs.

“You don’t have to justify your actions to me,” I tell him. “Warren, I would have done the same thing,” I told him. He glances towards me. “You think your need to protect me is one sided? I’d do anything for you. You’re all I have and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” I tell him. Warren smiles a bit.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Y/n Worthington,” Warren says quietly. I muster up a playful smirk.

“Never,”

2004 - Y/n POV - Reader is 24

“What do you mean they’re shutting the school down?” Warren snapped. “They can’t do that!”

“They can and they are,” Storm, one of the teachers, says calmly yet her eyes are raging in anger. “The students are to be sent back to there homes-”

“Where they’re going to be hunted down and slaughtered in front of their families,” Beast growls. I sigh rubbing my face tiredly.

Years of peace between mutants and mankind destroyed in one weekend. We tried to do damage control but our efforts were in vain. Almost every pro-mutant policy has been taken away. With the government turning their backs against us the radical anti-mutant organizations are rising against us in a dangerous fashion.

It didn’t take a genius to know that a war is on the horizon. This school is one of the only safe places for the students yet we’re being forced to send them away. We’re being forced to send them back to their families where they won’t be nearly as protected as they are now.

We all knew that with the war would come casualties. These extremists aren’t planning on taking prisoners. They see us as anti-human and a threat to the human race. They see us as monsters. They will kill us every chance they get.

“We have to protect them,” I speak up. “They’re children!” I practically shout. “We can’t just leave them to defend themselves,”

“We’re not going to do that,” Jean shakes her head. “We’ve fought for mutants this long, we’re not just going to give up now,”

“Jean’s right,” Storm nods. “There’s a war coming and it’s going to get ugly,” She warns everyone in the room. “But we’ve been through ugly times before. We can get through this if we work together,”

“We’re ready,” Bobby, one of my closest friends, assures her. “You guys have made sure of that. A lot of us are ready to fight,” Warren, me and the other alumni students nod in agreement.

“Professor?” I asks hesitantly. Charles continues to sit in his wheelchair as he goes over everything in his mind. It pained me to see the man who took my brother and I in in such a state of distress.

Warren and I share a nervous look. After years of living life just the two of us, we finally find out home. Not long after that, our home is threatened. It angers me to the core that people think they can threaten my home without retaliation. As far as I’m concerned everyone that lives under this roof is my family and I will do whatever is necessary to protect them, especially my idiotic twin.

“There here,” Charles whispers, his eyes widening. My head snaps to the side as an explosion shakes the Earth under our feet. Warren’s eyes meet mine and dread fills our hearts. The war’s begun.

@akshi8278​

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I saw Mr. Lu in the elevator just now! He was acting different from his usual self and the look on his face was absolutely frigid…”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was an ordinary day of work. I’d just gotten to the office when Li Man’man opened the door and entered the room.

Li Man'man: No way, no way! You’ll never believe it! I’m doing all of you a favour by reminding you to behave today.

Brother Mao: Huh? What’s gotten you into such a tizzy?

Li Man’man rubbed the goosebumps that had arisen on her arms, shivering as she recalled what she’d seen.

Li Man'man: I saw Mr. Lu in the elevator just now! He was acting different from his usual self and the look on his face was absolutely frigid…

Li Man'man: I thought I’d turn into a block of ice in no time flat the moment our gazes met!

MC: What?

Hearing her recollection, I couldn’t help but to suddenly think back to what happened yesterday during lunch hour.

❖☆———————————★❖

At noon, I’d compiled a set of documents related to jewellery designs, just as Evan had requested and brought it up to his office.

A voice sounded from within when I knocked on the door of his office. It sounded unusually indifferent.

Evan: Come in.

❖☆———————————★❖

Pushing the door open, I saw Evan leaning against his chair, his brows were furrowed, hanging low, and there seemed to be thick storm clouds brewing in his eyes.

He was still staring blankly out the window in a daze when I went up to his desk.

Evan: Just leave it there.

MC: Okay.

Hearing me, he turned. The dark look on his face instantly lightened up.

Evan: Hm? Oh, it's you.

Evan: Sorry, I was just thinking about something.

Recalling the unusual look he had on his face when I entered, I couldn’t help but step on eggshells around him.

MC: Don't worry about it. Here are the documents you requested. Are you… okay?

Before he could reply, however, the landline on his desk suddenly rang, interrupting our conversation.

MC: I'll leave you to it!

Evan nodded apologetically at me and I took my leave from his office.

❖☆———————————★❖

Did something happen to make him unhappy…?

With his personality, he wouldn’t tell anyone about his troubles even if something WAS troubling him, no doubt.

❖☆———————————★❖

When I got home at night, I switched on the TV. It was coincidentally broadcasting a camping-related program.

The lush green forest, the joyous chirruping of birds and their songs… Everything there was powered by Mother Nature’s power of healing, capable of washing away all exhaustion in one’s body and mind.

I didn't know why I thought of Evan again, but I did.

MC: There’s a gigantic forest at the outskirts of Guangqi City and it’s clear weather out all the time now.

MC: Maybe he might feel better if I can somehow get him out to the forest for a walk...

An idea popped into my head and I scrambled to fetch my phone, searching for the familiar name in my contacts.

I was just about to hit the call button when I suddenly thought of a plausible issue.

MC: I don’t think he’ll reject me regardless if he wants to go or not if I invite him directly like that.

MC: Maybe I should feel around for his thoughts about it so that I don’t unknowingly coerce him into anything.

After pondering it for a while, I hit the dial button.

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan: (Y/n)? What's the matter?

MC: … Evan, I… err, have gotten interested in coffee lately.

Evan: Really? What flavour of coffee do you like? I'll be glad to recommend you things.

MC: Oh… I haven't decided yet.

MC: Ahem, have you ever seen a coffee tree? I've never seen it myself with my own two eyes! I really want to go see one~

Evan: About that…

He sounded hesitant, there was no doubt about it. I awkwardly scratched my head. 

Did I come off too strange by bringing up that question out of the blue!?

Evan: Coffee trees have strict requirements when it comes to the environment they’re grown in. And as far as I’m aware, the PH levels of the soil and the amount of rainfall here in Guangqi City do not fit their criteria.

Evan: So, I'm afraid it'll be hard for you to spot one in Guangqi City.

Evan: But we can go see one together in Africa during your next vacation if you'd like.

MC: Eh? Africa? No need then.

MC: Ahaha… then, how about...

When there’s a will, there’s a way. I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the dark path in my mind.

MC: Then, what about a bamboo pith?

MC: I had some bamboo piths while eating hotpot a couple of days ago! I find that it’s a very amazing fungus! I really want to see one growing for myself!

Evan: It is. Although information is now widely accessible, it still hits different when you see it with your own eyes.

Evan: When are you free? We can go check it out together.

MC: Brilliant!

That's what I've been waiting for you to say!

MC: Are you free next weekend?

Evan: Yes, my weekends are open.

Evan: You… Are you this happy just to go to the forest for a walk?

MC: Hahaha, yeah! Super happy!

Evan: I'll come fetch you in my car next Saturday at 10 AM. Will that be alright?

MC: Sure! We're all set then!

Evan: Then, have you ever hiked or camped out before?

MC: No… but don't worry!

MC: I’ve watched lots of videos about camping on the internet! I’ll prepare all the equipment we’ll need this time!

Evan: Alright. I'll be leaving it all to you then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Soon, the appointed day arrived.

When I came downstairs lugging along a rucksack that towered about half a person tall, Evan, who was waiting by his car, looked slightly taken aback.

Evan: You…

I found myself blanking out as I stared at Evan, standing not too far away,

This was my first time seeing Evan dressed in such a casual manner.  The soft and form-fitting material of his clothes made his shoulders appear wider and him, much more reliable. It was reassuring, to say so in the least.

MC: Haha, did I bring one too many things? Actually, I think so too.

MC: In case we don't find a bamboo pith today, we can still camp overnight in the forest with this.

MC: Don't you think?

He smiled as he approached, taking the heavy bag off my shoulders.

Evan: Sounds good.

Evan: You must have fun and enjoy your first camping trip, if anything.

The tenderness in his countenance was the same as always. Where was that coldness to him that a certain someone had mentioned?

I secretly felt a wave of relief wash over me.

MC: Let's head out then!

❖☆———————————★❖

After driving on the suburban roads for nearly an hour, we finally reached an area near the forest on the outskirts of the City.

Evan gently took my bag out of the trunk, slinging it over his shoulder.

MC: That's pretty heavy. How about you let me carry it myself?

Evan: Since we're going to be travelling together anyway, how about we both give it our best?

MC: Alright then. Thanks!

❖☆———————————★❖

Stepping into the forest, lush green foliage surrounded us all around.

The ubiquitous noise and lights were all isolated from here, creating a secluded and serene atmosphere.

The air was warm, humid, and carried the sweet refreshing scent of vegetation. Relaxation was literally oozing out of my pores.

I turned around to look back at Evan. He was standing ramrod straight as usual with a blank expression on his face.

MC: Evan, we're here to relax!

Evan: Thank you. I am very relaxed.

MC: You can afford to be more relaxed. Here, follow me. Open your arms like this, take a deep breath, and go "Ahh…"

He smiled helplessly at me. Just when I thought he was going to refuse, he mimicked my stance, opening his arms wide.

Evan: Ahh…

MC: Hahaha. Yup, just like that.

I took out a map and a compass from the bag.

MC: I will be the leader for today! I’ve already marked all the routes we can take. Let’s see… let’s go this way first!

Evan: Alright. As you say, leader.

We proceeded through the forest according to the directions shown on the map.

We chatted about the animals and plants that we saw as we walked. Or more accurately, Evan was the one introducing them all to me.

Evan: Sorry. It must be boring hearing me talk about all these.

MC: Nope. I’m actually even more interested after hearing you talk about them.

MC: Also, your expression changes into something a little different from what I’m used to whenever you talk about something you like.

Evan: Something that I like? I’m not really sure if it constitutes as me liking it, but I think I’ll like it if you do.

He smiled in a manner as if he didn’t mind it at all, stopping as he took out some tissues and a bottle of water from his bag.

Evan: Here. Wipe your sweat and hydrate yourself.

MC: Thanks.

The soft bubbling of running water entered our ears as we stopped to rest.

MC: Looks like there's a small rover up ahead, just like how it's drawn in the map!

Evan: Looks like the leader's leading well.

❖☆———————————★❖

Following the sound of running water, we soon found the river.

The clear stream rushed across the pebbles, the crystalline liquid glittering under the golden light of the sun. The wind that blew past the waters was very cool and very refreshing. It felt great on my slightly worn-out body.

MC: The cool breeze here by the river’s really nice! And the sound of dripping water’s also very calming.

Evan: Looks like there’s a flat rock over there where we can sit.

Evan: Do you want to rest for a bit?

I want to…

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

[someonewhowannadielol]

Blossom fully (deep in my bones)

(Teacher!JK x College student!Reader) PART ONE

Warnings: JK has anger management issues, very slight violence, a lot of fluff, don't get a heart attack.

Genre: Fluff.

Word Count: 10.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

I have decided to turn this into a trilogy. This is Part One, enjoy. Let me know if you want to be tagged (you could just comment, or dm me).

Love. Adoration. Lust. For Jeon Jungkook, his entire life, they had been just words, nothing more – after all, these were just concepts made by society, what if people had not known about the concept of love? Would they still try to find it? Would they still be willing to work for it? Then, you came into his life, and gave meaning to those words.

“Welcome to the annual football championship between Seoul Nation University and Sungkyunkwan University 2020,”

“Break his jaw!” Jungkook heard the other team chant, while looking at him. He just scoffed while adjusting his gloves, as if.

“Really? Think you can do it? Go ahead and try,” Jungkook mocked them across the field, his tongue poking against his left cheek.

Jungkook was never set out for failure, it was never allowed in his life – because he knew for a fact that his father would have his throat if he didn’t turn out to be the best of the best.

At age five, he had a strict workout regime and had less than 10 percent body fat, maintained till present date. He had also learnt that he would rather be loved than feared, he hated the look in the eyes of his classmates when he accidentally punched his seatmate, Byung-chul, just because he had taken his red crayon without asking. Now, no one would sit next to him at lunch. 

He told himself that he didn’t mind it, but he couldn’t help but cry at night because no one wanted to play on the see-saw with him. He knew if he asked them, they would have no choice other than to say yes, after all, they didn’t want to end up like Byung-chul, hospitalized, with a broken arm. But what’s the use, if they don’t actually want to be with him?

Age seven, he had landed his first punch on his butler when he saw him abuse his dog. He didn’t know what to tell to his therapist, how could he explain that all he saw was red when he saw Yeontan being thrown out of the room? How could he explain that he had no control over his body? He couldn’t control the beast in him that had pounced over the man.

Age ten, he landed his position as quarterback on the national “Under 19,” football team. Soon, he had to drop out – not because he couldn’t play well, hell, he was probably the most talented played that they could’ve scouted. But, because he wouldn’t tolerate any thing that would come in the path of him and his success.

Age fifteen, he had graduated high school, gotten a perfect 1600 in his SAT, and been given a full ride to SNU. Throughout his high school career, despite having narrow minded, shallow and mindless classmates, Jungkook still wishes he made more memories, had photos with friends in his camera roll (rather than just pictures of sunsets and tattoo designs),

Age 20. Present Day, and he had earned the title of Doctor, not that he could actually perform in the surgeries because of his “anger issues”. Currently, he was a Grad student, but also taught the first year Undergrads, just because of his immense knowledge that could be on par with the old, wrinkly professors that had been teaching since 30+ years.

There had never been a championship, never an exam, never a game that Jeon Jungkook hadn’t won. He wasn’t going to lose this one either. The chants from hundreds of people across the campus stadium were deaf on his ears when he heard the other team’s captain call him an asshole.

Everyone knew Jungkook had well, anger management issues. And to say they were bad was, well, an understatement. So far, the only thing he’s learnt from 14 years of anger management classes, movies, documentaries and seminars is that – only attack when they punch you enough to make you bleed.

“Jeon! Look out!”  

Without a warning, the other team’s captain had punched him in the face, hard enough to bust his lip.

Jungkook just sighed, shook his head as if he were disappointed (He was, in fact disappointed, did this dumbass not known what he could do to him?), and calmly just brushed his white glove against his lip, internally wishing he could see his red blood smeared across it.

And there it was, a streak of blood. Then, Jungkook punched him back – not stopping until his face was almost disfigured – suits him for even trying to mess with Jeon Jungkook.

Around an hour later, Jungkook already knew he was going to be chewed out by the college dean, so he was already counting down from 100 on his way to seminar room number 3.

“54, 53, 52, 51,” he muttered under his breath, pushing back his – now long (he really ought to cut it now, it was starting to get into his eyes) – hair back with his left hand, and entered the room. He could see he interrupted a lecture, and was almost about to head back when-

“Oh! Jeon Jungkook, what a pleasure!” he heard the college dean speak in his pretentious, and extremely conceited voice, here we go again.

“Everyone! Welcome Doctor Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of our in-house surgeons. Topper of the college, topper of the board, topper of the university. In fact, he’s of the one of the best – if not the best student SNU has ever got the chance to teach. He’s got the most impeccable academic record, of all time, now going to teach biochemistry to first year undergraduates this year,” Jungkook scoffed when he heard the entire class clap their hands at his arrival, after the Dean’s speech that complimented him, but he knew better, he kne-

“But what’s the use of all that? In anger management, he scores a zero. He’s a classic example for all of you, if you can’t hold your anger in, you’re nothing more than a murderer with surgical instruments in an emergency ward. Without compassion, your degree is of no use to me. Even a low score is acceptable to me, but not that behaviour,”

Was he trying to rile Jungkook up on purpose?

“Please continue, sir, I really loved the analysis you’ve done on me, please do continue,” The words flew out of Jungkook’s mouth as he made his way up the stairs to the stage where the dean stood.

“What behaviour is this? I need you to write an apology letter to Sungkyunkwan University, and to the college board as well,” 

It was clear the dean was about to get off the stage, before well, Jungkook spoke again. The dean didn’t really think he was getting off this easily, did he?

“Football is a violent sport, the minute they entered our territory, and tried to abuse the rules, that’s the minute everything and anything is allowed. As far as the apology goes, I’d rather quit the college than write that bullshit,”

The seminar room was so quite that a pin dropped would shatter the silence. Jungkook smirked before he exited, “I won’t lose anything by leaving SNU, any other medical program in the world will be ready to accept me, the only reason I stay in this hellhole is because I enjoy the spring in Seoul. But imagine the loss of pride that SNU will experience once Jeon Jungkook leaves the establishment,”

Jungkook walked across the campus cafeteria as he tried to find his lighter in his pocket, fiddling with his cigarette in his other hand. “Are you seriously going to leave?” Jimin runned after him, struggling with his lab coat, “what will you get out of this? Just write the goddamn apology,”

Jungkook decided to settle on a table where three rowdy boys sat, flexing their muscles, but as they saw Jungkook approaching, they simply muttered apologies before scattering away, leaving the table.

Jimin-ah,” Jungkook smiled as he puffed his cigarette, “there’s nothing for me here, besides, I was planning to move to the US, anyways,”

“And leave me and Tae here? Wow, you’re such a considerate friend, you know,” Jungkook saw Jimin pout, and smiled.

It was really a miracle that he made his first two friends ever while his second year, here at SNU. Jimin loved pets, and was practicing to become a vet, while Taehyung was – kind of – crazy, and even scared Jungkook the first time he met him. He’s pretty sure Tae would’ve set the lab on fire if Jungkook hadn’t studied chemical properties before his class. At first, he hated it when both of them would tag along, following him to lunch, inviting themselves into his mansion, and forcing him to go to the arcade with them – but soon, he had learned to love being around them.

While looking around for Tae, so he could finally break the news of him leaving, his eyes landed on your figure. Now, Jungkook had never believed in love at first sight. Hell, he didn’t even believe in love, so, love at first sight seemed a little – well, impossible. But here you were, the reason why Jungkook felt like his heart was going to come out of his ribcage, it felt as if Jungkook had been struck by cupid, because the way you looked so adorable in your pink dress had left Jungkook feeling giddy. Seoul had a lot of pretty girls, he saw them every day, some of them even deserved to be on the cover of Vogue – but you, you were different, Something about you, your vibe, your pink cheeks and eyes that curled up when you smiled, something about you was difference.

Jungkook looked down at his letter of quitting, and simply tore it down when saw your figure leave the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe this, you see one of the first years, and suddenly, you want to stay?” Jimin shouts and slams his fat book on the table, muttering curse words.

Intimidating the first years – ragging, as they called it – had always been Jungkook’s favourite thing to do. Every year he’d either make them do ridiculous tasks, like eating a living goldfish, or running around the block naked. However, this time, it was different.

He made sure he entered the class taught by the foreign professor, so he could sneak in a couple of threats without making too much of a scene in front of the directors. As he excused himself in the full class, he couldn’t help but be glad that he looked quite… intimidating today. Everyone was already, well, scared of him, but his leather jacket, motorbike, and bandages on his fingers (which are actually there because he hurt his fingers by writing too much – not from the constant fights that people think he’s immersed into), they just add to his picture.

“There’s a medical camp soon for freshmen, so I would like to make an announcement,” Jungkook smiles, but everyone can sense the chilly aura underneath that smile, “I would also like to speak in Korean, since they’re mostly fluent in it,”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon, you may continue,” the British Professor smiles back – she can’t deny him, he’s her co-worker now, after all.

“Listen to me carefully,” Jungkook lets his tongue poke his inner cheek, as he brushes back his – way too long – hair, “I’m not going to repeat this in English, and that dumbass shouldn’t get a clue of what I’m saying,” he says as he nods politely at the professor on the slightly lifted stage. Once he confirms that she can’t understand a word, he turns her back towards her, and walks across the class, staring at everyone with a predatory look in his dark eyes.

“There’s a new girl, freshman, she’s mine. Other than her, you can woo any girl you like, but if I even so catch anyone staring at her, let alone trying to get on those cute study dates, or pretending to be in the same hobbies as her,” he looks across the stadium, “you’ll end up in bandages. With a failing grade in my class.”

Jungkook can’t help but present a fake smile, “don’t look so scared, idiots, you don’t want her,” he nods off to the professor, “to think I’m saying something wrong,”

“Why does it sound like a threat?” A nameless teenager from the back speaks up, which makes Jungkook’s smile slide off faster than sound travels.

“I’m not threatening you. I’m warning you. Besides, don’t even try to outsmart me, don’t worry new girls come in every year, you’ll have your chances. Now don’t sulk, or look suspicious. Circulate this message around, I don’t have enough time to go to every single unit,” he scans everyone’s face again, making sure they digested his new given information.

Once he’s satisfied, he convert back to English, “Good luck with the camp, guys. Meet you in my class tomorrow,” and with one last threatening smile, he’s gone.

“What did he say? Why did it sound like a threat?” the teacher joked once Jungkook left, and the class couldn’t help but immediately deny the threatening tone. After all, no one wanted to face Jeon Jungkook’s wrath.

Your nervous jitters were still present, and you don’t want to admit, but you did tear up a little when you saw your parent’s car become smaller and smaller as it continued to drive down the road, till it finally is so far that you can’t even make it out with your eyes.

While most people had roommates of their own year, you were stuck with a sophomore and you didn’t exactly know whether that was a good thing, or a bad one. She had made very clear about what side of room was hers, and why it was hers, and how you’re not even allowed to get onto her side – and that did make you a little annoyed, because how could someone be so pretentious, but throughout the span of three days, the pretentious-ness was definitely wearing out. She’d cook dinner for you every day, because you didn’t have a rice cooker and she did (which, you really needed to invest in a rice cooker because you can pretty much cook anything in that fucker), and she was amazing at giving advice for every single teacher out there. You still had to get used to her high use of curse words, but it’s just what made her, her.

“Oh damn, you got the worst professors out there, bro you better goddamn pull your socks up, otherwise things aren’t gonna look pretty this semester,” you heard her chuckle, as she sits on her bed with one leg on top of the other.

“Why? Who’s so bad?”

Fucking hell. You already had had enough of bad teachers, it’s almost like you were cursed because your high school teachers were literally out to get you – but you guess it was a blessing in disguise because that just made you work even harder (just to spite them, hah), and you somehow ended up here, at SNU, one of the most prestigious colleges in Korea.

“It’s actually not all that bad, you got Mr. Lee for microbiology. He isn’t all that bad, but just don’t sit in the front row unless you want spit on your face every time he talks. I swear it’s like he had a motherfucking fountain in his mouth. Also, he loves it when you submit your papers with a perfect format, so do that whenever you give his weekly assignments,” She says, all while applying on a red blood coloured nail polish.

You study your schedule once again, “What about Mr. Kang?”

“No fucking absolute way! You got Mr. Kang? Bitch, seems like the universe is tryna fuck you over,” she says, and then mumbles a curse when some of the rid pigment ends up on her skin.

“Is he bad? Strict?” you can’t help but already be scared of the semester, and it hasn’t even started yet.

“He’s the most pretentious fucker you’ll ever meet, he just thinks he’s the best professor because he graduated from Oxford. Big woo, motherfucker. Half of his class fails pretty much, the only two people to walk out of his class with an A* grade were this kid named Baek-woo or something, and of course, Jeon Jungkook,”

Jeon Jungkook. You swear you’ve seen that name before. Oh wait, ohhh, he was your biochemistry professor.

“Jeon Jungkook? He’s also a professor?” you look at your perfectly squared schedule, and you have his classes thrice a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

“You got him?”

“Yeah,”

“Don’t know if I should call you lucky or not, because I have no clue what he teaches like. All I know is he’s fucking crazy good at everything, and that he’s super-hot. Not that he’s really interested in any girls, also I personally think he’s mental or something,” your roommate had finally finished painting her feet, and was now letting them sway in the air, and dry.

She spent the next hour talking about Jungko- Professor Jeon was basically a murder, a thug, a gang member or whatever even. You just laughed at the thought of it all.

First day, and you’re more nervous than you intended to be. It wasn’t going well, at all.  You had decided to look chic today, with your new (way too expensive) designer blazer, and your nude high heels, but here you were, sitting in the fourth row, wearing a red polka dress that made you look like a freshman. A high school freshman, not a college freshman.

You cursed yourself for buying a fake version of the nude heels (also, you could feel a tear forming in your eyes when you saw the heel broken, when you finally unpacked your belongings, but you sucked it right back in), you also wished your roommate was dead, because now you were sitting on your bed with a coffee stain on your blazer (no amounts of sorry could fix this disaster).

Also, you couldn’t help but notice an ungodly amount of stares thrown at you – not from hate, but just from sheer curiosity, and you were just so self-conscious because of it all, that you slipped from the last few stairs down the hostel causing your bare knees to get the nastiest scrape. Fuck, that’s going to hurt.

So when you finally settled in your Biochemistry class, you couldn’t help but well, be scared. There were rumours of Jeon Jungkook, your new teacher to be. Rumours that he used to be in a gang and dealt with drugs, and underground fights. There was a rumour that he once put a room to fire, killing almost 50 people. Also, that one time when he came to school with bandages on his hands – probably because he punched people to death, or hospitalizing them. There are rumours about him running over people on his motorcycle as well, and you can’t help but be extra conscious about this class, in fact you wouldn’t even have opt for it in the first place if you knew that Jeon Jungkook was the one teaching it. But, even since you’ve transferred, you’ve just told yourself that these were just rumours, and not everything is the truth.

Till now. He entered the class, probably not following the teacher’s dress code – you were pretty positive that leather jackets and ripped jeans weren’t exactly allowed, but he just looked so hot good, that you could let it slide. His stare lingered on you for quite a while, and you couldn’t help but fidget in your seat, avoiding eye contact.

“You, in the fourth row,”

You could see him pointing at you, but you just internally wished that it wasn’t actually, well you, that he was calling. Looking around, you see several other people in your row, maybe he was pointing towards the girl on your left that looked way more presentable than you.  Or maybe it was the boy on your left with glasses way too big for his face.

“You, in the red polka dot dress, come here,” Professor Jeon looked at you, and smiled? Why would he smile when he looked at you?

(You also quickly dismissed the thought that he has the cutest bunny smile you’ve ever seen, where his eyes crinkle slightly, and his cheeks bunch up – because that’s just inappropriate, even though the age gap isn’t that big.)

He quickly examines your knees, and you swear you see a flash of surprise (and worry?), and before you can register what is going on, he kneels down in front of you, and clicks his tongue, as if wanting to scold you.

“Sit here, in the front row where I can see you,” he says, after a few seconds of inspecting your new injury, and as you adjust yourself, you can’t help but be uncomfortable from the gazes of your classmates that disappear as soon as Professor Jeon starts teaching. Getting into SNU was a nightmare, and you weren’t going to let yourself fail any classes, but instead of listening to what Jungkook was teaching – which but the way, he taught way better than any of the other staff there. But his stare. His stare was terrifying.

His aura was definitely dangerous, and red sirens were bursting in your head, telling you to keep your distance from him. His deathly stare seemed anything but inviting, and when the boy to your right asked you about the syllabus, you couldn’t help but shiver under Jungkook’s Professor Jeon’s glare. He spent the next ten minutes shouting at the poor boy, who looked as if he was about to faint any second now. Scary.

Ever since, you’ve been avoiding any contact with him, even purposely ignoring him when he asked you what happened to your knee. (You tell yourself that his sad puppy face doesn’t bother you but in reality, it breaks your heart, and every time you try to sleep, it haunts you. (You then remind yourself about the numerous rumours he’s into, and the last thing you want to get in between is drama and romance)).

The first time Jungkook heard your name was through Taehyung (no, he wasn’t jealous that Tae knew your name before him, but he couldn’t help but want to reverse back time, just so he could learn your name before Taehyung did. Why did Tae know your name before he did?), and your name was on his tongue the entire day. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, all he could think about was how your hair would feel when he would brush his fingers through it, how your hand would fit into his, how you would look in his oversized t-shirts. (Occasionally, he would also think how you would look, laying on his bed, underneath him – but the sheer thought of it gets him hot and bothered and what not, and he doesn't have the time to be fooling around, that too, with a student).

So when he saw you sitting with one hand on top of the other, in his class, he couldn’t help the smile when his eyes landed on you, you just looked so, so adorable in your little dress. The thought of you being away from him, just killed him inside so he had to ask you to sit in the front row, where he could look at you as much as he wants to, all while teaching his class. Of course, he saw red in his eyes when he saw your knees tainted with blood, and all he wanted was to wrap a bandage on it, he couldn’t bear to look at you, sitting in pain – but for once in his life, he was considerate and thought that you might not want the uninvited attention.

That consideration came to bite him in the ass, because you left before you could hear him, and as he saw you blend into the crowd, he couldn’t help but curse under his breath and want to punch the next person he sees.

There’s a lot that Jungkook changes throughout the first week of classes, he attaches a second seat to the end of his motorbike (because when you both start dating, he’ll have to take you around), and even cuts his long hair – in case you don’t like it, it could grow back anyways. He always has a packet of your favourite chocolate in the left pocket of his bag (no, he didn’t threaten the guy at the nearest 7/11 to tell him the candy you’ve been buying lately (he also denies the fact that he bought three plushies for you, that are currently sitting on his side table (the white rabbit with red cheeks reminds him a lot of you))). He can’t, but he tries to smoke way less, tries to buy less cigarettes, tries to chew gum instead, or drink more water. And he would never admit it, but he took a photo of your student profile, and set it as his wallpaper. Jimin and Taehyung exchange a couple of looks after discovering this fact, but don't say anything about it - none of their business, right?

Being an undergrad professor also has it’s perks, he can look at all your records, and well, currently, you’re failing Mr. Kang’s class – anatomy 101. Finally, a fucking excuse to talk to you, because the way you basically run after his class ends makes him think you’re avoiding him? But you wouldn’t do that to him… right?

Because of you, Jungkook has been rocking some Massive dark circles (with a capital M, because boy, they are blue and way too dark in comparison to his actual skin tone), the only reason being your existence and all he does is Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, while tossing in his bed at 3AM, thinking of how you smiled when he tried to crack a joke in the class, thinking of your pushing his fingers through your hair, thinking of how you fumbled with your thumbs before mumbling your answer to his sudden question.

“So, Y/N, what do you think out of all these,” he motions towards the options, “does not act as a restriction enzyme?”

He just wanted to coo over how your thumbs fought with each other, as you tried (key word, tried), to answer his really easy question. (It actually wasn’t even that easy, you were just too scared to get anything below a B in Professor Jeon’s class, so you ended up studying two chapters ahead of your syllabus – despite his fast pace). So, you knew the answer was Polydeoxtribonucleotide synthase, but for the love of god, you just couldn’t pronounce that word.  

“It’s, uh, polydetr-,” you swear your breath was knocked out when he started walking towards you, oh God, why was he walking towards you?

“Yes, continue,” he smiles while standing, literally right in front of you. How does he expect you to answer when he’s looking at you as if you have all the answers of the universe. As if you were, I don’t know, Aphrodite or something.

“Uh, it’s the option D,”

“And that is?”

That motherfucker. He knew you couldn’t pronounce it.

“Polydo-“ you were positive that at this point you weren’t even breathing.

“Hey, just take a deep breath and try again,” He said, while taking your left hand in his own, and massaged it. You were positive everyone in the lab was looking at you, but their stares didn’t even compare to your hot teacher’s burning gaze.

“Poly-deo-,” you take a breath in,”x-tribo-nucleotide synthase,”

“That’s right, the answer is Polydeoxtribonucleotide synthase,” Jungkook says without having any trouble with the word, and before he gets away from you, he smiles in your direction, and says, “Good girl,”

You’re left to yourself wondering if this is a dream or if that just happened.

Jungkook’s day was going just terrible. His landlord had to be the cheapest bastard he knows, who just wouldn’t fix the water system, so for a week he was basically stuck with showering with ice cold water. On top of that, he was wearing a bruise on the left side of his face, it was all red and blue because last night he was too drunk to notice his book shelf that he installed last week.

He was supposed to be in the cafeteria right now, because at approximately 1:30 PM, your stupid microbiology class ended, and you headed straight to lunch after that, before your anatomy class. It had been, well give or take, around two weeks since the semester started, and he thought he would get over you soon, but you were just so goddamn adorable, and cute, and all Jungkook ever wanted was to squish your cheeks and press your body closer to his.

He finally reached the bustling cafeteria, ugh, he absolutely hated the noise there – so he never really ate there, preferring the quite café around the corner, but he knew you were on some sort of dumb student meal plan that only profits the university, and not actually you.

He’s expecting to find you sitting with your laptop (with a red smiley star sticker on the top right, which is just goddamn adorable (and no, that definitely isn’t the reason why Jungkook too, has a red smiley star sticker on his laptop now)). But you’re there, with some random ugly boy’s arm sprawled over your shoulder, as you giggle repeatedly at his bad jokes.

He sits on the table on your right and loudly slams his old anatomy book, before taking a seat. Here he was, all prepared with notes on what you were failing, all ready to teach you what you didn’t understand, spending all night making flashcards (he also ripped that one flashcard where on one side he wrote, “Will you go out with me?” and the other side blank, so you could write your response. He argues with himself that it wasn’t because he was shy or scared you’d say no – it was because it’s too cheesy).

His blood just boils when he sees you not removing – he finds out the boy’s name is Kim Seokjin – his ugly hand from your own, and just gets up and walks away after you giggle for the nth time on his not even funny jokes.

(Later that night, Jungkook tells himself he’s way better than that Seokjin bastard, even if Seokjin’s skin is flawless, and even if he has a handsome smile, and even if he can cook, and even if he can make you smile. Jungkook couldn’t have flawless hands because of all the callouses he has from writing too much, and his bruises might take a while to heal (he even puts an icepack on them now), and he could learn how to cook something other than instant noodles, and he could learn some jokes from the internet. He could be better than Seokjin, he would be better than anyone for you).

You love the feeling when things go perfect, and today was just so perfect. You fried an egg, all round a perfect circle and the yolk didn’t even break – which it always does when you flip it. Then, you sharpened a pencil and somehow the nib came out more than perfect, which made you all giggly and what not. Everyone in your friends circle at this point knew that you were the biggest hoe for cute stationery. Then, your anatomy class got cancelled and you were just so happy, and you even made a new friend today, Kim Seokjin.

You were a little uncomfortable when he smoothly glided his right arm over your shoulder, but he was just so funny, and he bought you the special menu items today – so you couldn’t even complain. After all, you really looked at him as a big brother because all he talked about was how his roommate was a complete asshole.

(“I told him to get me some water – which he should, because I’m older than him, and he should totally respect me,” he says, with an exaggerated and exasperated sigh.

“And he did what?”

“He brought a glass full of ice and told me to wait,”)

The one thing that you were, in fact really over thinking was about that one professor of yours. Jeon Jungkook. As you let the water cascade down your body in the tiny (really tiny) cubicle of the washroom that you shared with your roommate, Hye-jin.

“I noticed Kook looking at you in the cafeteria that day, y’know the whole campus is talking about it,”

“Uh, yeah, it’s kind of hard not to notice,”

“I’m guessing you don’t know about the whole speech he gave in that one class at the start of the semester?”

Jungkook doesn’t really believes in love at first sight, but after stalking you on social media, he knew he was a goner for you. (Especially after that one video of yours where you’re trying to pet a dog, but the dog runs away, and you end up pouting at the camera. (Yes, he screen recorded the video and watched it a billion times before sleeping)). 

He has never had the urge to protect someone other than himself, and maybe his friends. But you, it was different with you – he doesn’t know if it was the small chub in your cheeks, or the way your ears would turn red when he would ask you something, or the way you would walk, or the way you slapped your thigh when you laughed, or the aroma of your citrus shampoo when you would walk past him, or your habit of getting coming down to the convenience store to grab ramen every Thursday night at 10 PM. 

He doesn’t know it, but he knows he’s meant to love you, meant to keep you in his life, meant to be yours, and meant to make you his.  

He has endured, yet another week where he hasn’t talked to you – and not gonna lie, it’s actually driving him crazy. Every day he sees you talking to Seokjin and laughing with others, while he sits and does nothing other than gawk at you.

During class, while he did occasionally glance your way, he still has 73 students to teach, and this being his first year as a teacher, he can’t afford any sort of mishaps at all.

But every man on this Earth has their limits. And Jungkook’s limit was watching Seokjin kiss your cheek. While you did (playfully) punch him on the shoulder, and you did shout out ‘Gross!’, Jungkook was sure that you definitely didn’t mean that punch, and you definitely didn’t think he was gross.

Did you think that Jungkook was gross? Why didn’t you ever visit him during office hours? Because every single girl in his class was sure to meet him for some dumb question, or to ask for extra credit. But you didn’t. Did you like Seokjin? Did you like someone else?

The next time he sees you is on Friday, during his class and he just knows, he knows he can’t go through today without talking to you, and the only way to do that is to-

“Y/N, could you stay after class, please?” he says, without even giving you a glance.

You mutter a silent yes, and keep your head down for the rest of the class, trying your best to ignore the mumbles of the class, talking about you and why you get to be treated different from others.

“You wanted to talk to me?” you say as you walk around the long table, running your fingers along the marble shelf.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

What. What the heck?

You chuckle, thinking it’s some sort of sick prank he’s playing, you wait for him to say ‘Sike!’ but it never comes. Then you think that maybe, just maybe he does actually want to take you out? No. No way, he probably just wants to get alone with you in an alley, where he would kill you – or even worse, sell you off.

“No, thank you. If that’s all, am I allowed to go?” you say all this, in the smallest, most polite voice possible, after all the last thing you wanted was to piss off your professor. (who might be in a gang, who knows at this point?)

“What? Why?” he says, almost panicked, and you hear a shuffle of items as he makes his way to you, trying to watch you before you leave again. He sees your face morphed into an expression of extreme boredom. Fuck, he had to do something, quick.

“Not to be rude, but Professor, I just don’t think it’s right – or even allowed for us to date,” you say, trying your best not to look at him, shuffling your bag on your shoulder, because fuck, he looked so sad – his eyes almost looked glassy, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You don’t have to date Professor Jeon, you can just date me as the graduate student here. I’m, still a student here, Y/N,”

“And? You’re also like four years older than me,”

“Three years,” he says, pouting. Ugh, he’s so cute.

“That doesn’t make it any better,”

“It doesn’t?” he sighs.

“No, I’m still your student, and you’re still my teacher,”

“Tell me, Y/N, did you take chemistry in high school?” he asks, while quickly walking to the back and mixing some chemicals that he definitely wasn’t supposed to touch without gloves on.

“Yes, why?”

“Well, I’m currently holding, uh it’s either Acetonitrile or Iodine mixed with Vitamin C,” he says, and you can see both the liquids, which he mixes together without a worry in the world.

“And? Professor Jeon, what are you going to do?” you walk over to him, slower than ever, taking one step at a time.

‘Please, call me Jungkook. Or Kook, if you feel like it,” he gives you one of his signature smiles, that you should be used to by now – but you just get flustered every time.

“Now, will you go out with me?” he asks again, this time in a much more hopeful tone.

“No,” you say, drawing out the ‘o’, when will get the clue?

“Fine, I guess I’ll just drink this,” he looks at the two glass beakers in his hands, and pours the both of them into a much bigger glass container, “and die,”

You scoff, thinking he’s bluffing, “Yeah, yeah, go on,”

Of course, he’s bluffing because there is no absolute way that he’ll be mad enough to drink goddamn Acetonitrile, unless he wants his cardiovascular system, central nervous system, liver and kidneys to, I don’t know, stop working.

“I’ll ask this again, Y/N, just one date, will you go out with me?” he says, while picking up the glass container, closer to his face, and you actually want to play this game till the end. No way is he going to drink this.

“No,”

“Okay then,” he puts his lips on the container, and by now, you’ve actually started to get a bit scared. What if he does it? What if this crazy idiot actually drinks the fatal formula?

And then it happens. He drinks it. He fucking drinks it.

“What the fuck? Jungkook!”

“I’ll ask you again, will you go out with me?” he says after taking the biggest gulp ever. Is this his way of attempting suicide?

“Yes! Yes, oh god, I’ll go out with you!”

“Don’t say it like you’re doing me a favour,” he says, attempting to take another sip of the deadly liquid.

“No! I- Can you stop doing that? Stop drinking it! I’ll go out with you. In fact, I want to go out with you! Really!” you shout, trying to take the container away from him, scared shitless.

“Fuck, do I call 911?” you say, as you attempt to take your phone out of your 110 pound heavy bag. Then you hear him chuckle and throw away the remaining odourless, colourless solution.

“Relax, it was just water, I was just trying to scare you, but hey! You’ve agreed to a date with me, so it’s a win-win isn’t it?” Jungkook smiles sloppily, perching his elbow up on the table and letting his chin rest in his palm.

You can’t believe him. You really can’t.

You pretend to pick something up from the floor, “Professor, it seems you dropped something on the floor,”

“What?” he tries to look at your hand, to see what’s there, and just as you get his attention, you smack him across the face.

“Your common sense, you moron! What the hell were you thinking? Even if that was water, this could have traces of some really harmful chemicals and you ought to know better because you’re a goddamn teacher how could you be so careless you could have actually died-”

“But I didn’t, and now you’re going out with me,”

You can’t help the smile that creeps on your face, as your eyes glass up. You really had thought that he was going to die, or at the very least – harm himself severely.

“You’re so dumb, Jeon,” you say as you punch him, trying to suck your tears right back in – but they weren’t co-operating at all, and you let them fall down across your cheeks, causing Jungkook’s, breath to hitch up as soon as he sees them.

“Wait, wait, wait, are you crying? No, please don’t cry! Oh no, oh, I didn’t mean to… I was trying to make you laugh…” Jungkook says as his heart runs at 850 BMP a minute, trying to caress your face, trying to stop the tears from filling your eyes.

“What kind of sick-o would laugh at their professor dying? Are you mental?” you choke out, while trying your god-darn best to stop crying, because he was very much alive and right in front of you.

“I’m sorry, oh god, what should I do? What do girls like?” Jungkook was absolutely mortified. The first time he has ever talked to you – and he manages to make you cry. He totally royally fucked up. Big time.

He almost googled, ‘how to stop girl from crying’ and reading the wiki-how page, but decided against it, and hugged you – because that’s what his therapist told him to do when he hurts his loved ones. He would never – it wasn’t in him to physically ever hurt you. He couldn’t even bear the thought of that ever, and so when he did hug you, your sobbing decreased by a lot, and he felt much much better. Also, after holding you in his embrace, he realized how much he needed you to be next to him – to say Jungkook was touch starved is an extreme understatement, he loved the way he could you fit under him, the way your hair had a citrusy aroma, the way your arms hugged him back, it was comfortable. And Jungkook was positive that he could stay like this forever – if needed to.

You didn’t realize when he hugged you, but when he did, you were finally over the shock of thinking your crazy, dumb and hot professor had actually had some water instead of some deadly chemicals – and you weren’t the cause of his death. You wanted to hate him, but how could you? How could you just judge him upon some rumours that were just there to fit in the pieces of his live that he wouldn’t let other people know?

“I- I have a faculty meeting in five minutes,” you hear him speak, the vibration passing through his body – shaking you with it.

You clear your throat before letting go, and can’t help but feel the embarrassment rise out of you, in the form of red cheeks. You keep your head down, as he walks out the door of the lab, leaving you behind – but right before he leaves, he reminds you of your current situation, “Can’t wait for our date, sweets!”

Asshole.

From Unknown Number

[1:38 AM]

Y/N-ieeee

r u sleeping

this is kook btw

To Prof JK

[1:40 AM]

how did u get my num??????

also do u not THINK before assigning all this hw :(

From Prof JK

[1:41 AM]

u should be sleeping rn bby

all i assigned was some reading???? and some worksheets????  

is it too much????

im so sry

To Prof JK

[1:50 AM]

well i do have a life outside of hw yknow

also im a huge procrastinator lmao

From Prof JK

[1:51 AM]

:( why r u taking so long to reply

r u busy

r u sleepy

also what life???? i’ve only ever seen u either at the library or the internet café down the street

whats my name saved in ur conatcts ;)))))

i saved urs as princess <3

To Prof JK

[1:54 AM]

it’s prof jk

From Prof JK

[1:55 AM]

thats boring :( im ur future bf now

also wanted to remind u the date is tomo so be ready

You don’t think before you change his name to Kook ‘Jungkook’.

To Jungkook

[1:57 AM]

oh yea how could i forget the fact that u tried to fake poison urself

also what?? date???

From Jungkook

[1:58 AM]

first of all, im so sry abt that i’ll buy u ur fav chocos

second of all, BRO

U LITERALLY SWORE U WOULD GO ON A DATE WIT ME

U PROMISED ME

To Jungkook

[2:01 AM]

i guess i changed my mind lololol

From Jungkook

[2:02 AM]

y????

look i know its weird some nuts prof asks u to go on a date with him

i know u don’t know me

but i know me

and i know i would do anything 4 u

i’ll be anything u want me to be

i can be smart

i can be funny too

i can try to cook for u maybe???? some pasta???

i could dance 4 u?????

To Jungkook

[2:06 AM]

dance????

no offense prof, but u seem so stiff

no way u can dance

From Jungkook

[2:08 AM]

is that a challenge…???

just tell me what u want and i’ll be that for u

To Jungkook

[2:09 AM]

u r dumb

From Jungkook

[2:10 AM]

i could be that

if u want me to be

come on, just ONE date i promise i’ll leave u alone after that if u don’t like it

To Jungkook

[2:13 AM]

mm… sis i guess u should start to figure something out then

bcz this aint good enough

see ya

From Jungkook

[2:14 AM]

ugh i cant force but :( pls?

istg itll be the best day of ur life

To Jungkook

[2:15 AM]

yea ok whatever u say im not going anywhere with u

night

From Jungkook

[2:16 AM]

goodnight!!!!!!

Don’t think too mucb about me

much*

To Jungkook

[2:18 AM]

In ur dreams

From Jungkook

[2:32 AM]

oh u do come in my dreams ;))

✓ Seen by princess <3 

The next couple of days, you get some… gifts from a not so secret admirer. And you definitely didn’t change him name from ‘Prof Jeon’, to ‘Jungkook,’ to ‘Jungkookie <3’ in the span of 11 days. (And you most definitely didn’t feel giddy from inside every time you received a notification that read, ‘One New Message from Jungkookie <3’.

“You’re not very subtle, Professor Jeon,” you stay around after his class, watching him put away his books in is leather back. You can tell he was surprised by your action of staying back, but you had to put a stop to what was happening.

The next morning after he texted you for the first time, you had a Huge – with a capital H – bouquet of red roses, and you’ll admit you teared up a bit after looking at it, after all it was your first time receiving flowers from a boy (or man? (a man that was actual eye candy, but you’ll never admit that)).

Two days later,

From Jungkookie <3

[1:53 AM]

look outside

To Jungkookie <3

[1:54 AM]

dont tell me u r outside dumbass its like 2am

Lo and behold, Jungkook’s standing in the middle of the road, holding a single red rose and smiling. There’s a stark difference between his current self, and his demeanour during class – now the moonlight hits his unmade fluffy hair and cheeks, making him look years younger than he is. You can’t help but shout, ‘You idiot! You’ll catch a cold!’ while probably waking up several angry sleep deprived students in the process, but you can’t help but laugh at the way he dances for you. On this cold, lonely night, he brought you the warmth you didn’t know you needed.

It seemed that after that, Jungkook and you were the talk of the town, people would wait for both of you to get together, place bets on when you would finally say yes to him. On the other hand, you received candies from him, you had access to the teacher’s lounge coffee (which was honestly a huge plus point, now you could save five dollars on watery coffee, and have some actual caffeine), and he had pre-paid the 7/11 dude $500 in cash, so he wouldn’t even accept your payments now. The one thing that you actually appreciated him the most for was that he made you flashcards for Mr. Kang’s class (which you were failing, real bad), and while it wasn’t much, you still bumped you ‘F’ to a ‘D’, that just remained the highlight of your goddamn month.

To Jungkookie <3

[2:08 PM]

JUST GOT MY TEST BACK AND GUESS WHAT BITCH

From Jungkookie <3

[2:09 PM]

hi baby girl

:( i’ve noticed u r cursing a lot nowadays

To Jungkookie <3

[2:11 PM]

i’ve noticed u calling me baby lately but u don't see me whining so stfu

ALSO I DIDN’T FAIL

i mean i still kinda failed but it’s not a F

From Jungkookie <3

[2:13 PM]

im so proud of u, u r so so so smart

:( i wonder if u would let me teach u maybe???? tutor u???

✓ Seen 2:15 PM by princess <3

One of his much, much grander displays of affections was, well, kind of weird, he bought you a penguin. You were a proud, and extremely happy mother of a cute penguin named Otis.

From Jungkook <3

[9:07 AM]

ok but what would u want as a pet

To Jungkook <3

[10:38 AM]

penguin!!!!

You knew it must’ve cost him a fortune, and his job as a professor must not be enough, but you had always dreamed of being able to hold the certificate of your baby, and be able to monitor it, and be able to be the one to feed it (well, not literally). And he had to pay for his own grad school fees, which must be a total nightmare on its own – here you were, in his class, waiting for him to pack up so you could maybe pay him back a little?

By no means could you afford a $3000 penguin, but you could maybe ask him if there’s something you could do?

“So, Prof, how would you like me to re-pay you?” you honestly half expected a sex joke on his part – maybe because he looks like a fuckboy on steroids and snorts a lot of protein powder before hitting the gym.

“Um, maybe a hug?”

Oh. Ohhhh. Oh. Unexpected. Okay. Calm yourself down.

“A hug?” you tried not to look at his face, because you knew if you did, it would be hard, way too hard to be able to resist him. You knew he was all dangerous, and bad boy and what not – but, this man, the one with the bunny smile and the fluffy hair, and the one who smelled more like freshly baked bread rather than the axe cologne spray you had imagine, he wasn’t a gang member or a delinquent. He was simply asking for love.

“Why a hug?”

“Just… never really hugged anyone properly,” Jungkook knew he wasn’t asking for much. He could’ve asked for a date, or a kiss, or just anything, but all he wanted was to hold you.

It had been a hard week for him. Being a grad student wasn’t easy no matter how many hours of study you pull in, and no matter how much knowledge you attained – while he was way better off than his peers – he knew he couldn’t afford the failure – he was just starting to feel less and less like a human, and more like a robot. Also, it wasn’t easy to be an undergraduate professor – in fact, it was fucking hell. Your peers, and the entire fucking batch was just so hopelessly dumb – he doesn’t want to admit but he even cringes at some of the mistakes you made (who mixes up chemicals! They’re the most difficult to mess up!) and he hated it when he would just have to give you a ‘C,’ instead of the ‘A,’ you actually deserved (because you’re so smart and he can see it! But you’re also so stubborn, sigh).

Lately, it seems like without his therapist, life just seemed more difficult. When he looks at the broken pencils, the pieces of wood sitting on his table, the teared up paper, and the headache he was constantly in – he’s taken back to the 12 year old Jungkook who couldn’t control his hands, who did nothing but hurt those around him. He looks at his hands, he hates them, they hurt people without his permission. 

Sometimes, he would cry, because why couldn’t he simply control himself? Why did his anger, the red in his eyes, the strength of his arm always win over his subconscious and ability to think correct? Why couldn’t he simply re-do a question he got wrong instead of breaking pencils and tearing up everything apart? Why were there numerous holes in the wall covered by posters? Why did this animalistic rage always win over him? Why him?

Jungkook spends the night dreaming of actually being able to help patients, and operating instead of simply… being useless.

So, in that moment, he just wanted comfort. Simple as that. He doesn’t recall anyone ever hugging him in his life, maybe half sided hugs from coaches and professor, or the ones that Tae forces onto him, but other than that, Jungkook has never had an interest in physical contact with people – always thinking it was way showing vulnerability, but with you, he just wanted to be normal.

He didn’t want you to know him as the weird, crazy idiot with anger management issues, or the druggie who smokes weed 24/7, he just wanted you to know him as the real Jungkook he is. The real Jungkook who has iron man socks, and has a fear of microwaves.

So when you do hug him, and feel his arms by your side, and you can’t help but want to stay this way. Surprisingly, it isn’t you who breaks the hug, and you actually want more of it, more of that soft feel of his black shirt against your cheek, more of his hard arms closing you in, more of his warmth.

You clear your throat, and… you don’t know what to do.

“So, um, thanks y’know f-for Otis. You really didn’t have to, I mean I appreciate it I really do, it was more than anything anyone’s every done for me y’know? So like, um, yeah, I uh-“ you mentally curse yourself, just stop speaking already.

“You named it Otis? That’s such a basic penguin name,” Jungkook chuckles, hoping to make you even slightly mad, and the fact that you looked at him with an expression of shock and anger just added to his satisfaction.

Just like that, the awkward layer in the air no longer lingers, and settles to soft banter, something you enjoyed.

“Excuse me? It’s like, the cutest name ever, and whoever thinks against that is a total meathe-“

“I’ve never seen someone be angry and look adorable at the same time,”

“Well, mama didn’t raise no bitch, I will adorably kick your ass, Jungkook,”

“On a first name basis now? Guess I’m making progress,”

“I hate you so much,”

And now twelve minutes and seventeen seconds later, here you both were, sitting on the bench outside the local 7/11, sharing an egg and ham sandwich.

By no means did Jungkook ever mean to have his first lunch with you like this, he had planned it all out, first date, 100 day anniversary, his first ‘I love you,’ speech, the gift for your birthday in January – he didn’t expect to sit on the side of the road at the old, rusty (and really uncomfortable) bench, eating a one dollar sandwich.

You make fun of Jungkook after his high five got rejected by a passing by 5 year old-ish kid with his mom.

“He hates me,” Jungkook pouts and looks at his left hand with such sorrow and anguish that you can’t help but let the laughter bubbling in your throat let out.

“He was like 5,”

“Still, he totally ignored me as if I didn’t exist,”

You don’t even realise three hours pass by, as both, you and Jungkook (two nerds united together), talk about politics, how absolutely terrible Mr. Kang is (you laughed for three solid minutes after Jungkook tried to mimic his sneer), he basically forces you to let him tutor you in anatomy, because he just can’t see you not get an A next time (you scoff and act as if you’re doing him a favour by saying yes, while from inside you screaming happily only because now your grades will be much, much higher – you’re definitely not happy because you’ll have to spend more time with the funny, cute, really nice and just overall hot guy that smells so good).

“Oh my God,” Jungkook says as he extends an arm and feels the light rain on his palm, “it’s probably going to rain soon,”

You don’t pay too much heed until 5 minutes later, it’s turns into an intense round of teardrops on the concrete under you, and you’re left to whine about how you’ll walk till your dorm – and there was no way you were going to get a taxi because you literally lived two streets away from the store.

“Let’s dance in the rain,” Jungkook runs into the narrow street, without a care in the world, and you’re left contemplating whether you should join him or not.

“I thought you were sort of mental, but now I’m fully sure your mom dropped you on the head when you were a baby,” you shout from the bench, hoping he can hear your voice despite the loud splat of each raindrop when it meets the ground.

“Join me,” he says as he tries to pull your hand lightly, hoping you would come on your own, and while you haven’t had fun in the rain since you were a child, you can’t help but want to relive the feeling of the cold water hitting you, not knowing where you end up at.

Jungkook ends up leading you, and you both end up doing a sloppy couple’s dance with his hands on your waist, and yours on his shoulders. You look into his eyes and see a childish charm, you see an affection and a purity in his smile, in the cute not so perfect teeth he possessed, and you can’t help but smile. You had never had things come to you, you were never used to this, never used you things happening to you, for you.

After a good fifteen minutes of fooling around, he ends up walking you back to the dorm – both of you a mess, with clothes clinging to your bodies, webbed fingers, wet hair and sore cheeks from smiling too much. Somehow, you didn’t want to be apart from the boy who waved you goodbye, and you don’t end up closing the door until he goes down the stairs and you can’t see his figure anymore.

To Jungkookie <3

[6:17 PM]

im gonna have to use an entire tub of conditioner to make my hair not feel like hay

PART TWO WILL COME OUT SOON XO (there will only be 3 parts).

also, just so everyone knows I absolutely adore jin, no bashing towards him, as once @kpopyandere​ said, and I quote: For real the closest I’ve ever been to believing in god is seeing Kim seokjin’s face. Only something divine could’ve created that.

I absolutely loved writing this even though it seems like it’s all over the place kind of lol. Been super insecure of my writing lately 🥺❤️ give me validation 🤩 jk but do let me know if you liked something or if u liked something in particular or idk also lmao sry there's no smut ;))))) wait for part two

taglist: @blkjmn​ @patpus​ @vantedollz​ @letmebeyour-sun​ @zeharilisharaban​ @hpnjrph​ @livewittykid​ @yzkyzkuniverse​ @nochuactivate​ @international-kpopfan​ @gvksp4ce​ @girlontheblock​ @kisskoos​ @jeonkooksgirl​ @hytibm​ @jooniescupcakes​ @teresaisla​ @lurkerarmy​

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter One

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :3 anywho i hope you enjoy :)) The main love interest will be reader and bakugo i think edit: it is not going to be just bakugo it will be a love triangle k byebye for the second time oh also this is fem reader k bye lol

-> Word Count: 1.9k (I lowkey popped off)

-> Warnings: None rly just mentions of guns and blood

-> Tag list: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat

Chapter One

People would tell you that the world was made for two, but as Y/n sat in the silence of the old cellar two felt like a long lost dream. It was like wind rolling around you gently, trying to persuade you to move in all directions. It’s an ice cream cone on a boardwalk with the sun above and the salty ocean below. It’s a perfect place no one tries to remember.

Any mind left functioning in the world has evolved to be built for pain. Maybe once upon a time there had been a time and place where love and compassion was something for people to look forward to in life.

This wasn't that world anymore.

To Y/n, that type of world never existed anyways. The world had always been a selfish dark place where love is fleeting and the people are brutal. Once upon a time, true love accidentally affected those who were fortunate. But like every other beautiful thing, they polluted and corrupted it, and like everything else, it got sick.

Y/n’s seen it all. And in the end when it’s taken away the people who protested or cried the loudest, were the one who had taken it for granted the most.

Y/n looked around the cellar, in three days she barely moved. It’s her rule and because of it she can leave easier with the feeling of safety. She always ended a shopping trip with a quiet few nights in a cellar or basement.

Y/n wasn’t born to do this, she had to learn to move around quietly, how to sit still. She knew what she had to do to survive. She had lain amongst the dead, she had run through the dark woods, having to feel her eyesite clear like a wild animal and embrace the darkness.

She crept out into the beam of dust lingering in the stale air, sparkling from the sunlight that found its way down two stories into a dark cellar. The beam of light almost made her smile as she admired the light's determination. Y/n shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the harsh reality as she took her first step towards the stairs.

The explosions never seemed to destroy this home in any way. The stairs were in one piece, which had become a bit of a novelty to her. The old farmhouse was too far from any major centers or roads to have even known of the problems, at least in the beginning. The blood stain smears on the white siding outside proved that sickness has touched every single inch of this world.

The hard wood creaked under the weight of her first step. She held her breath and hoped that the creak went unheard. She slowly took another step up as she let out a shaky breath. On the third step she hesitated, listening for any sort of alarming sounds. Her heart was beating like it was trying to free itself from her constricted chest. She waited a second longer, it was another rule of hers. Never leave when you feel safe, always wait three more seconds.

She put her feet on the far sides of the stairs, where the rusty nails attached the boards to the frame. Shallow breaths make sounds in this new world, in the borderlands anyway. There was no electricity, no cars, no phones, no buzz. The world now sits quiet, as if it was sighing and taking a long inhale after what seemed like forever with mankind and the noise pollution. Y/n was at peace when she was at home, but here in the open world she was one of them. One of what was left of humanity. What scrambles to survive, most of the time seperate from everyone else.

Y/n looked through the cellar door and tried to keep her anxious heartbeat low and her breath quiet. She knew that her body needed to make some noises, but others she could control.

The house was simple. Farmhouses were always the best houses according to Y/n. They always sat a long way off the road, not that roads mattered anymore. They always have canning and pickling that would outlast any human. They always have safety supplies and extras of everything. Farmers lived the longest, just as Y/n’s father said they would.

Two trips a year was rarely enough, but Y/n knew that if she traveled any more than that she would be caught.

She walked through the small kitchen and was amazed at how pristine it still was. Everything was still in its place, just as it was the first time she came to the farmhouse, although now layers of dust had found their way into the home, along with the bits of weeds that grew in through the cracks. With no busy grandmother to buzz around cleaning and dusting the mess, everything shows the house’s years of abandonment. Vines grew up the sides of the house, like all houses. As always, she stood against the doorframe and put her hand at the top of her head as her measurement. She turned and looked at how much higher it is than the mark she foolishly put there last time she came.

She looked away from the mark and pushed away the memories of the happy little girl she used to be. She walked low to the ground toward the backdoor. She couldn’t help but laugh inside at how ridiculous it was that she still felt safer going through the backdoor, even though there was no front or back. There were only doors. They didn’t go anywhere anymore. There was no direction.

Nothing goes anywhere.

Y/n positioned the heavy pack on her back carefully. It contained jars full of heart and soul and survival. To Y/n each jar was like a gentle kiss from the old lady who canned and pickled from her own farm of fresh vegetables. She assumed there are no preservatives, no added colorings, no added salt. There weren’t any labels to contradict anything. For all she knew there was MSG in everything. Y/n found herself smiling at the letters MSG, they meant something to humanity once. That was before.

She fought back memories of nice old ladies and the world before. She had been to many worlds in her life, and being nineteen felt more life sixty most days. She took a deep breath and creaked the door open, as if the wind had opened it. She closed it and opened it again. It felt like the wind coming off the brown dirt field was playing with the door.

Her sharp eyes focused on the dirt yard. Nothing moved, everything was standing still. She knew that she should’ve been waiting for the night to travel, but she had stayed too long this time. She needed to get back. Things only lived so long alone, she knew this well. Her garden had died many times before.

The old barn door swung in the soft breeze, making it creak slightly as the long tan grass swayed and small pebbles scuttled along. Everything moved in sync with the wind. Y/n learned how to spot that.

Y/n pulled the door and cringed, she knew this was always the worst part of the walk home. She hated leaving this house.

She felt her eyes squint shot, as the intense light of the sun nearly blinded her. Her pack felt like tons of bricks on her back, but she took her first steps, desperate for the walk to be over with already. She tried not to jostle her bag too much because she didn’t want to break any jars. She learned the hard way that pickle juice is hard to get out and that backpacks were even harder to find.

Walking across the dirt and gravel driveway to the field was the worst. Y/n looked around, walking with her shotgun in her hand. She usually practiced often with her rifle and silencer at home. But on the road she always brought her shotgun. She saw it as her lucky gun. The thick cold metal made her feel strong, even though she knew what strength was.

To her, strength was not pulling the trigger. At this point in life she has yet to prove her strength to her own self. She always took the cowards path. Just like her dad told her to.

Her boots crunched along the path. She walked softly but some noises were unavoidable. She knew the noise would last until she reached the huge wheat field. Then she would be a whisper in the wind. She entered the field without looking back, when she reached the field she knew the rule.

Her legs groaned under the first steps, but after the first quarter mile she started to warm up and she enjoyed running. Her back was the issue, what with the pack being so much heavier than she had ever trained with. She gripped the shoulder straps tight until her arms couldn’t stand it for another second. Even then, she kept pushing until she reached the forest.

She ran deep intothe woods, always on the same side. Never the same path but always the same destination. The branches whipped past her. The edge of the forest was always the thickest. As the forest clears I see him. He’s smiling like always. He’s calm. He doesn’t run and jump. He waits to confirm that she hadn’t brought anything with her. He’s seen them before. He knew how bad it could be. Together both of them had seen the people get swarmed and taken, usually women.

“Hades.” Y/n whispered out of breath.

Instead of the warm greeting they both want, she quickly turned around and held her shotgun up. She walked backwards as Hades sauntered over to watch the forest. They sat behind a tree and waited and after a few minutes she put the pack down gently and climbed one of the huge trees. The thick branches were very rough against her hands. She sat on a branch and looked through her binoculars from the high viewpoint.

She could see the entire field of brown hay from where she was sitting. Y/n let herself have a weak moment and let herself imagine living in the farmhouse one day and harvesting hay. She felt her eyes strain as she tried to find even a single strand of grass moving in a way that would mean she was followed. She looked at the farmhouse sitting still and alone and hoped it would stay that way until her next trip.

She looked past the farmhouse and watched everything move just as it should. After coming to the conclusion that no one had followed her, she climbed down the tree, eager to lay in her own bed.

When her feet touched the dry ground, she looked at Hades, whose yellow eyes confirmed her thoughts. They were alone. She dropped to her knees and greetedhim as he bounded towards her. The large tundra wolf licked her face and raised his massive paws up to hug her. She would hug him so often when he was baby and one day he hugged back.

He nuzzled at her softly and nipped at her arms. She rubbed his huge soft ears and stood up. She patted him gently on his head.

“Ready?” She asked.

She picked up the heavy pack and adjusted to having it on her back again. The walk home would take an entire day if she could manage to keep a solid pace. Hades started the walk home by heading past the old broken oak tree. Their meeting place.

--

I worked really hard on this and so i hope people enjoy this although ik this chapter is a lil boring but i promise next chapter will be better k goodbye have a good day love u