#I saw one on the dashboard that was like “name ten of your favorite women and they can't just be men who you call babygirl” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

Note

hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!

so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!

Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.

CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3

I've Got You

The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.

You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.

Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.

“Yeah?”

“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”

You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.

“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”

The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.

“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.

You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.

Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.

A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.

So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.

Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.

The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.

Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.

Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”

You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.

“Two. Three.”

Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.

“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”

Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”

You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.

“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”

Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”

You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.

“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”

Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.

“Those are the hardest. Kids?”

You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.

“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”

Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.

“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”

“I know.” You lowered your head.

When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.

“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.

“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”

Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”

You scoffed.

“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”

Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.

“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”

Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”

You forced yourself to hold her gaze.

“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”

Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.

“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”

A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.

“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.

Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.

“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’s happening tonight?”

He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.

“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”

You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”

“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”

Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.

“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”

Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”

The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.

“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”

Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.

You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.

“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Okay. See you later, then.”

“See you.”

Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.

“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”

“Just a patrol run.”

You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.

“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”

You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”

“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Training to be a soldier?”

“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.

“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.

You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.

When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.

You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?

It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.

Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.

At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.

Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.

The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.

As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.

Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.

“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”

She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.

“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.

“Y/N… Why?

You sank to your knees.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

“You… killed… me.”

She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.

“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”

Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.

“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”

She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.

Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.

“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.

“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.

“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”

“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.

“Did I scream?”

“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”

You shook your head.

“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”

Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You snorted involuntarily.

“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”

“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it’s fine because others have nightmares, too?”

You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.

“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”

She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.

“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?

Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.

“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.

“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.

“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”

Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.

“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”

She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.

“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”

“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”

You rested your head back on her shoulder.

“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”

Abby chuckled.

“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”

You wrapped your arms around her torso.

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”

She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.

“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”

You smiled to yourself.

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.

You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.

You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.

“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”

“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.

It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.

“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.

“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson fic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst/comfort #angst/fluff #manny tlou #wlf #washington liberation front #abby anderson / reader #abby/reader

82 notes · View notes

beyondthetemples · 5 years ago

Text

{{ “Be Honest” mun meme

{{ Questions list taken from here:

https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/hellhaeths/182092480007

What would prevent you from following someone? Not trigger-tagging, or not using cuts for ns//fw scenes. (I have really intense emet*phobia, so if you don't tag for that, or won't tag for it upon request, I absolutely cannot follow. Savior catches most posts for me, even if they're not tagged, but there are just So Many Euphemisms and Various Ways to Describe It that it only works 75% of the time.)

Are aesthetics important to you? If they are, why? As far as blog theme, not really-- I just like fiddling around to find something that evokes their General Vibe, and seeing what themes other muns like! I won't judge by them though. When it comes to thread aesthetics, I actually prefer to leave them utterly unformatted and plain-text as possible. I have ADHD and Fancy Unicode and Symbols and All That makes it really hard for me to focus on what's going on in the thread, not to mention I don't have the attention span to match another mun's Styling like that. (Also, fun fact: I always have my Tumblr Dash at 75% zoom, and Dove’s theme already has text at a Very Readable Size, so nothing ever needs to be Smallified for me.)

What current rp trend do you hate? I don't think there are any I "hate", though I get confused on all the Different Verses that everyone has. (In all my years of writing fanfic, I've only ever written Exactly One (1) AU, and I never read them outside of rp. AUs just aren't my thing.)

How do you explain rp to someone in the real world? "Taking turns writing what the characters are doing." Everyone afk has been pretty supportive. (They all know I'm a writer, so like... it's Nothing New.)

Do you prefer interacting with male muses or female more? Why? I genuinely don't care either way! Guy, gal, nonbinary pal: as long as they're fun to write with, I don't mind a bit. (And Dove has no preference, either.)

Do you prefer writing male muses or female more? Why? Statistically, I have 3 female muses (4 if we count Evangeline as her own person and not just A Part of Dove Manifested)... and only 1 male. (And technically, both Srentha and Leyla are genderqueer, so it's really only Dove and Kary that are cis women.) But that's not intentional? Evangeline is feminine because Dove is feminine, and Kary was originally my girlfriend's-- if she was a male I still would've hardcore adopted him. It just kind of worked out that way. I just enjoy writing people, not gender roles.

Name any three things about the rpc that bother you. 1.) The aforementioned Verse Thing. (It doesn't really bother me, I'm just easily confused by Similar-Except-Vaguely-Different Things due to the ADHD.) 2.) Some people still don't know that godmodding isn't okay. 3.) The distaste for OCs??? I guess that doesn't exactly "bother" me either, because people are allowed to have preferences... but, I mean, I spent several years active in, and then Actually Running, a group of 1300 members on dA completely DEDICATED to OCs, and it was a blast, so I just don't understand why people don't like rping with them as much as canon characters. I personally find OCs more satisfying to explore, more surprising in every thread because you just don't know what to expect, and you have a LOT more freedom for plotting and reactions! Like! You can Shed the Constraints of Canon and Revel in your Newfound OC-Based Freedom!! Truly Become your Character's GOD!!!

What is your opinion on exclusivity? Do you practice it? Why / why not? Nah, I love the variety different muns can bring to the same muse! Other people can stay exclusive if they like. Being an OC mun, it doesn't exactly affect me. 8F

Have you ever had a bad experience with commissions? As either someone who makes them or as someone who buys them? (I don't really know how this pertains to RP?) But there was one time when someone gave me a really vague commission request, out of the blue, for a fandom I know absolutely nothing about, and just kept saying things like "Whatever you think they'd do!" when I asked for plot, characterization, or preference details... I never finished it because I Didn't Even Know how to START.

What do you know now about rp that you wish you knew when you first started? The reply doesn't have to be perfect. Or dramatic, even. Not every reply is going to shatter someone's heart or absolutely make their day. And that's perfectly okay!

Have you been involved in drama? Do you regret it? Nnnnot on Tumblr. (There was a LOT of drama amongst admins of the dA group, which strongly attributed to the decline of me RPing on dA, but I definitely do not regret standing up for myself. I do wish I'd been able to foresee it, though, and brought someone else on staff who was actually going to, you know, do the job they applied for?)

Have you ever thought about leaving rp? What caused it? What changed your mind? Never! Well not on Tumblr anyways. There was a period where my favorite partners were all going inactive, and I couldn't find anyone who wanted to interact with Dove, so of course I was despairing, wondering if I'd ever get to explore what I wanted to explore with her. But then I decided, you know what, so what if I can't find any canon Titans to advance her Tumblr timeline? I'll just fill in the blanks with fanfic canon, and work from there! Making that decision was so freeing.

Do you think rp has had a positive or negative affect on your life or you as a person? Oh, positive, absolutely. I may be too busy to really attend to it much nowadays, but my writing style has improved DRAMATICALLY, I've made so many friends, and I've learned things about Dove that I never would've discovered in the stories alone. (Or at least, it might've been discovered on a ten-year delay. 8F)

How has rp changed you personally? I was able to find fast friends, make connections with people over common interests, and my very first experience with leadership happened because I hung around a TTOC dA chatroom (because, specifically, I’d gotten ADDICTED to rp), came to love the people and characters, and decided, when the current admins had to step down, I would like to step up.

If you could change one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? Why? I'd like tags to stop breaking, that'd be nice. (But that’s an issue with Tumblr itself, not the rps.)

Have you ever sent a message to yourself on anon? Why? Pff, no. Mostly because if I really want something to happen, I'll either post an open, OR I'll do what I'm doing here, and just answer the questions myself. 8F I have a lot of fun doing this with headcanon question lists.

Have you ever sent hate to yourself on anon? Why? No, but that's because I'm all about learning (+spreading) positive self-talk, de-escalation, and avoiding drama. Drama doesn't serve anyone.

Do you delete anon hate or post and address it? Why? I address it and then block the sender, because I want everyone to know I don't stand for that. And I have this stubborn streak about standing up for myself, so, you know... Gotta Address It First. (And I've defended Dove from Mary Sue accusations since I started posting about her in 2006, so it doesn't bother me, but I love pointing out all the reasons that, Jack Rider voice: You Are Wrong!)

Have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with? Nope, but that's because if I can't or don't want to, I'm open and transparent about it. (Not on Tumblr, anyways. There was one particular person in the dA chats that kept trying to make RPs All About His Muse, but we shut that down too.)

Have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to? Hell no! I've never Automatically Followed Back, and it's right there in my rules, I need a little communication before I start interacting.

What would make you block someone? Anon hate, reblogging/replying to rps that don't involve them, starting their own rps on my posts, Bad Takes in the Tags, shipping something I genuinely can't stand... I use the block button pretty liberally. I just don't need that stuff in my life, in my tags, or on my dash.

Have you ever stolen something from someone else? Well I have adopted a couple of headcanons re: Canon Characters from the teentitansheadcanons blog. (Like hc that, one time, Beast Boy was a bug and someone almost squished him, so now they put all the bugs outside, just in case. I love that for some reason, so I adopted it.) And every now and again I'll see something in fanfic I like: Azarath Has Two Suns, I saw that in a fanfic and it just felt so RIGHT, so I adopted that too. But, I mean, rping as an OC, there's really not a lot I can steal. 8F

Have you ever had something stolen from you? If so, how did you handle it? Not on Tumblr, but somebody once stole a picture of Srentha from dA and used it in a random webs-page blog about their dreams? ??? I have no idea why they used him, or how they even fOUND him, but I kinda just shrugged and let it go.

Are you open to duplicates? Why / why not? (Isn't this basically the same question as "are you exclusive"? Because I have the same answer. I am, because I like seeing other muns' interpretations of the same character.)

How do you feel about vague posting? Use your own judgement for your own blog, but it's not something I do myself. If I have to vaguepost to vent something, I'll usually go on a more private blog, or at least stick it under a Read More.

Do you follow people even if they don’t follow you back? Yes! I like reading rps almost as much as I like writing them.

Do you read people’s rules before following or interacting? Always.

What is your opinion on “reblog karma” and do you practice it? I try to! Sometimes I can't figure out what to send in for the blog I get in from, but most of the time, I'll send something any time I reblog something. I really appreciate it when people send something in before reblogging from me, personally. c: (I get it if you can’t or don’t want to. But it sure is nice!)

How have you responded to popular slang used on tumblr? Do you use it in every day life? Do you use it at all? Not really, but I rarely use slang at all. Unless I'm actually talking about rp, muses, muns, etc, then I'll use those words.

Is there something you don’t know the meaning of but you haven’t asked anyone because you think it’s supposed to be general knowledge? Was there ever something you had to ask someone to explain? I'm that Ravenclaw who always asks questions as soon as I encounter I don't know, and I don't use words without knowing what they mean. Kinda defeats the purpose of words that way.

Have you ever experienced discrimination? Well, Dove has, since people have that "I don't like OCs" mindset. Or "she's related to a canon character, so she's automatically a Mary Sue". It's not as big of a Discrimination as sexism or racism, don't get me wrong! But it HAS limited our scope of interaction, and I personally think it’s a little unfair to make judgments like that.

How do you feel about personal blogs following your rp blog? Go for it.

Have you ever cried while writing a reply? Mmmmaybe once? More often my heartrate just raises a little in an exciting moment, or I write out a ten-paragraph response in a one-hour fit of delighted manic wordsmithing, but I've definitely been touched. (I'm just... not very good at crying when I'm focused on writing. 8F)

Do you read other people’s threads or do you only read your own? There's definitely a bias towards my own! (Before my EHD died, I had about a hundred and fifty rps saved as word documents.) But I also enjoy reading others' threads.

What’s one thing that other people seem to hate that doesn’t bother you? Hmm...Spelling and grammatical errors. When I was copying chat rps to word docs, I started editing the replies for readability, and that habit kinda transferred to Tumblr, so when I'm not in a hurry, or I have an Unusually Long Attention Span, when I copy the replies, sometimes I'll just edit them, but I'm not mad about it. Just got into that habit.

How do you feel about tagging triggers? Do you tag them? How do you determine what is triggering content and what isn’t? It is absolutely ESSENTIAL for me to have triggers tagged for ME, so of course I extend the same courtesy to others. I don't presume to know what triggers people; I've made it very clear that if anyone needs something tagged, they just have to ask, and I'll tag it. No questions asked. (Though if they want to vent about it, I'm open to that too.)

What advice would you give to someone new to rp? Just GO for it! I know it can be scary and intimidating and overwhelming to see a great writer and think, "Gosh I want to interact with them So Much".. .and you know what, sometimes you will get rejected. Sometimes you just won't mesh with muns. Sometimes your characters don't have a very exciting dynamic. But you'll never find those Goldmine RP Partners if you don't at least ASK.

#ooc rebloggables

2 notes · View notes

kaikookie · 7 years ago

Text

Echoes .2

Member: Jeon Jungkook

Genre: angst, soulmate au, fluff

Word Count: 2,579

Author’s Note: Part two of my first short series. I know took a while, i was on vacation :) Please comment or give some feedback if you liked it! Enjoy!

Part one. two. three. four.

Soulmate. When your whole world comes to a stop when destiny draws the pair close.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Monotone beeping repeats itself for a solid three minutes before you reach your hand over to stop your alarm clock. You had been letting the alarm clock ring for the past few repeats despite knowing how excruciatingly annoying it was. Your eyes lazily open to soak in the familiar sight of your bedroom ceiling.

Why was the most mundane day in your life chosen to be repeated?

Light filters through the blinds in your room. Neon green numbers that show “7:00 AM” is the only other source of light in your room. The room is silent now that the beeping stopped.

“Day 359,” you think to yourself. You let out a big sigh, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. Time to get moving. Life doesn’t wait for anyone.

Once again, it’s routine. Brush your teeth, wash your face, get dressed. However, today, you get stuck at that last step, realizing something.

It‘s your birthday today. One week before you slipped into a loophole of time was your birthday. Looking over the clothes that you own, you decide whether your birthday was worth the trouble of finding a new outfit to wear.

Maybe today I’ll find him if I wear my birthday suit…

Deciding to not be naked was an easy choice, so you settled on a nice jungle green crop top and black jacket with shorts. After pulling your hair into a loose ponytail, you move on to find a pair of socks. The drawers fight back as you pull them open. After a series of grunts and exasperated pushing, the stubborn drawers close, marking the end of your morning routine You grab the keys and phone that are sitting on the kitchen counter and head for the door.

Turning around, you scan the room behind you once more. You let your eyes wander across your living room before you let out one more sigh and close the doors.

Morning are always tough, but why did this one hurt so much?

Your car is parked in front of your apartment. A quick push of the keys makes the car let out two beeps. Ducking your head underneath to get inside the driver seat, you sit down and pull the seat belt across your chest. You look at the dashboard of your car.

Radio, or phone?

You plug in your phone and start playing your favorite playlist of songs. You’ve given up trying to find different radio stations since they play the same news from the same day.

You don’t know where you’re going. All you know is you want to go away, away from the repetitiveness of your city, away from the people you’ve seen for the last 300 something day, and wistfully thinking, possibly away from the time loop.

“My birthday tradition,” you say aloud to yourself, “let’s go Y/N.” Every year, without fail, you and your parents take you to the café they first met in to buy you your favorite dessert.

Despite it being a three hour drive, you know the path by heart. Once you hit the freeway, you feel more at peace than you ever felt in months. “This is one trip I won’t mind repeating,” you think to yourself.

You drive along the road for a while, losing yourself in the scenery and music. The landscape changes every now and then. The trees fade out to water as you drive over a small bridge, and the water turns to pavement as you enter the bustling city of Seoul where the cafe is.

Parking was always a problem when you and your parents came. After ten minutes of circling the cafe, you finally find a secluded spot away from the parking meters and a good walk away from the cafe. However, you could still smell the sweetness in the air from cupcakes and milk tea.

The cafe itself was small. It was a start up business by a pair of soulmates. Their business was more always more successful as a catering company when they could display their multitude of beautiful cake decorations. However, the couple still kept the cafe part of their business open and you were glad they did.

Opening the door and stepping into the bakery causes the small tinkling of the bells to ring above your head. You’re enveloped in sweet coolness and greet the owner at the cash register refilling the water station

"Hello Hyorin, long time no see, I missed your cheesecakes,” you exclaim. Your eyes deviously scan the glass display.

"Silly, what are you talking about? I saw you last week for your birthday. Why are you here again?” She laughs and continues "You want the usual?"

You just nod. You almost forgot that, to the rest world, the hardships you faced in the past months were just you.

You sit at the corner booth where you sit every year for your birthday. A wooden beam runs along the wall up to the ceiling. Your name is etched on the wood along with hundreds of others. You play with the necklace around your neck and look at the time.

"11:42 am," you think, "happy birthday to me."

The ringing of bells scatter your thoughts and you see a young man walking in through the door. He utters a few quick orders and turns around to find a seat. You don't realize you're staring before it’s too late.

His gaze seem to linger on your face for a while. You try to inconspicuously turn back to face the window and watch the occasional car drift by. Light footsteps grow slightly louder as the boy enters your view.

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?" asks the boy. His voice is nice, smooth and rich. He looks over at you with a smug smile. He spells trouble without even trying. His hands rest on the back of chair across from you, ready to pull and sit down at your call. You turn in your seat to look around. The cafe is nearly empty.

Teasingly, you face the boy and say, "No, it's open. I know it gets pretty crowded in this cafe, you must of had a hard time looking for a seat."

He chuckles, "Okay, let me rephrase that, will you grant me my one wish in the world, which is being able to sit next to a pretty girl like you?"

A smile spreads across your face. First conversations are always fun, especially with new people. It's always the fifth time when a conversation starts to turn sour.

You nod your head signaling him to sit down, "I'm Y/N."

"Jungkook," he replies.

"What is a guy like you doing here? Didn't peg you for the type to hang out at a cute little cafe like this,” you comment sarcastically.

"Guy like me? What, fantasizing about me already?" Jungkook retorts.

You laugh out loud and look down at your folded fingers. Yep, the change in scenery was a good idea.

Before you can reply, Hyorin comes over and tell you, "I'm so sorry Y/N, I just realized that the women and her child over there also ordered a blueberry cheesecake before you. It was the last one and it’ll take a while to make another batch."

The smile on your face falters, nothing tastes better than the blueberry cheesecake here. You look up at Hyorin, "That's okay, can you change my order to a banana crepe then?"

She nods and faces Jungkook, "I'll be right back with your bagel."

"Thank you, there's no rush," he replies, flashing a bright smile.

"You still haven't answered my question yet," you says raising one eyebrow.

"I've been coming here every morning for a while now," he replies “I’m waiting for my time to find my soulmate since my brother also found his soulmate here.”

So he hasn't enter the time loop yet... you conclude.

"What about you?" Jungkook asks.

"It's complicated, but today is kind of my birthday. I come here every year to celebrate with my parents with a blueberry cheesecake. They also met each other here looking for their soulmates,” you explain.

"But where are your parents..." he trails off.

"Like I said, I'm kind of in a complicated situation right now,” you quietly say.

He nods, "I can’t say I know how you feel, but I going through a rough patch too,” he laughs dryly.

He continues, “It feels like I have no control over my life right now. As if no matter what I give to the world, I get the same thing over and over again, like I'm screaming in a cave and all I get are echoes.”

You think about the words he says and surprisingly relate to them.

"Wow, did you think of that yourself? You should write a book,” you comment, trying to lighten the mood.

"Ha, no, I actually stole the quote from the third Iron Man movie," he says sarcastically. You laugh.

"Oh really? You should teach me more about Iron man, cause I really don't recall that ever being a part of the movie,” you retort.

The both of you spend the next few minutes talking about anything either of you can think of. From Iron Man to briefly touching upon the meaning of life, the constantly switching topics are the reason why you’re smiling the whole time. You can’t stop staring at his eyes, always waiting for his bunny smile to show up, and giggling every time he scrunches up his nose whenever you say something sassy.

You find yourself running your eyes over his appearance again and again. He’s definitely well-built. There was no denying that. His simple white T-shirt compliments his blue jeans and makes him look put together. He sits in a relaxing position with his arms on the table fiddling with the napkin dispenser on the table. He alludes confidence.

Your food comes, and the conversation turn into a comfortable silence. You take a fork and cut through the layers of pastry, ice cream, banana, and whipped cream to place it in your mouth. The cool ice cream and warm crepe makes for a perfect combination. Your eyes close slowly. Your tongue flicks out to lick the whipped cream off the corners of your mouth. When you open your eyes, you catch Jungkook staring.

He looks at you for a while, with his eyes glancing up and down ever so slightly, and his Adam's apple bobbing. Eventually, his eyes don’t leave your lips. When he realizes you’re looking back at him, he suddenly clears his throat and focuses back on cutting through his bagel.

You feel your cheeks flare up. Shit. Did that look suggestive? Your eyes start to wander around the room, looking for something to comment on to clear the silence.

What in the world was that? Why did he-? What-? Great, I can't even think straight because of him...

The comfortable silence has quickly turned into tense awkwardness. However, it only lasts a moment though. Jungkook decides that it was a good time to do a minion impression, seeing the bananas on your plate. The tension clears.

"Enjoying that crepe over there?" Jungkook asks with a small smile.

"Yep...but I still wish I got that blueberry cheesecake," you frown, "Have you tried it before? It’s so good, you have to get it the next time you come,"

Jungkook replies quickly, "Maybe I'll try it tomorrow," and glances out the window.

Tomorrow. You feel like you’ve been doused with a glass of cold water. Jungkook is going to be here again tomorrow, and everything is going to be the same. The same snarky conversation, the same humorous comments, same everything. Except you'll have memories of him and he won't. For some reason, your heart aches at the thought of that.

Jungkook sees the sudden silence from you, and furrows his eyebrows. "Hey, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" he asks.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t seem to breathe right. He’s so caring, why couldn’t he be my soulmate. You barely spent an hour with Jungkook, but the emotions you felt with him seem to be magnified a thousand times. These short memories, this one conversation, and this one girl he is looking at....he’s not going to know any of it happened if I don’t come back. You almost tear up.

You quickly recover and make something up, "No, no. It's just that I'm really missing my parents right now."

Before Jungkook can say anything, you get up and take your plate with you. The chair screeches in protest as it scrapes across the floor. The room is suffocating.

“Hey, where are you going, don’t leave. Please,” Jungkook say, immediately rising to try to stop you.

“It was nice talking to you Jungkook, but I came to Seoul to give time for myself and think. I can’t spend this day with you. I’m sorry,” you quickly tell him.

Jungkook stares at you. His outreached arm hesitate before dropping to his side, and it almost seems as if he woke up from a dream too. His smile is gone, and he looks back at you with longing sadness.

“You’re right, Y/N. I’m sorry. Wow....it’s going to be hard to forget you, and I hope it’s the same for you,” Jungkook replies.

Jungkook sits back down at the table. You reach for the door and push it open. The bells ring, and before you are completely out of the store, you call back to Jungkook.

“Thank you, although it was short, I had a great time. I’ll miss you.”

You step out of the dream-like environment of the cafe, and head into the city of Seoul. The wind blows gently, a few cars stream down the road, and small food carts are bustling with business.

All this is happening, but the only thing you can focus on is Jungkook’s gaze following you as you walk away.

jungkook’s point of view

The cafe seems a thousand times more empty after you left. Jungkook has waited here everyday for the past 100 days for his soulmate, hoping that the lucky coincidence his brother had will also happen to him.

Damn it! It’s the 359th day. Today he decided to wake up earlier to wait at the cafe as opposed to waiting in the evening.

It did make me one step closer...kind of. All he’s grateful is that something changed from his last 50 days.

He liked talking to you. For once, he found motivation to do something instead of just sitting at the cafe for half the day.

Okay, what did I do today that was different and got me here... Jungkook thinks. He takes a napkin and makes a list.

went to the cafe in the morning

yelled at jimin to do the dishes...again

a car cut me off on the highway

He thinks a bit....what else?...I did wear my Timberland shoes today...

wore Timberlands

Now...what can I do to make the day different... Jungkook thinks. Decisions are the reasons why soulmates find each other.

“Blueberry cheesecake!” Jungkook says aloud. He looks up at the abundant array of cakes near the register. If I buy the blueberry cheesecake before it’s out, I might be able change the day to spend more time with Y/N.

Jungkook is excited beyond words. His eyes jump around the room thinking of you. The possibility of another exciting conversation makes him wish this day would end already. His mind already wanders back to you. Your snarky comments and your laugh still rings in his mind. He gently folds the napkin into his pocket and rises to put his plate away.

Just minutes ago, hearing the bells above the door made his heart break. Now, as Jungkook exits the building, the ringing of the bells signaled hope for a better day.

#thebtsnetwork #jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenario #bangtan #bangtanboys #jungkook scenarios #bts soulmate au #soulmate au

91 notes · View notes

amongushq · 8 years ago

Photo

Welcome to Among Us, ARI! JASON GRACE ( with the faceclaim of AUSTIN NORTH ) has found shelter in NEW ATHENS and CAMP HALF-BLOOD, where we hope HE will fit in nicely. Please make sure to check the “after applying” section of our navigation here!

Us admins discussed your faceclaim choice for a hot minute, but then we found out that Wyatt Nash fits exactly within the age range, so you’re all in the clear. Then you changed your face claim to Austin North, we decided that it was indeed better! We were interested in Jason as a creative writing major, because it really fits, and the writing style was adapted to fit that, which was a very good choice. You took into account what happened between the series and the Recall, and honestly, we’re all here for bisexual Jason. Good job, we can’t wait to see him on the dashboard, interacting with our canons and originals alike!

AND YOU ARE…?

What is your full name, and when were you born?

My name’s Jason Grace and I was born on July 1st.

Have you been claimed, or do you belong to a legacy? If yes, state your godly parent / heritage.

I think the eagle burned into the flesh of my arm makes it pretty clear that I have. Why am I being interviewed again? Yes. I have been claimed. I’m the son of Jupiter. Good ol’ King Lightning Bolt himself.

Where are you currently based? Are you attending a Camp (Half-Blood / Jupiter), or are you living full-time in New Athens / New Rome? Is it a combination of both?

Well…. again…. we’re having this interview in my apartment… in New Athens…. so the answer to that question seems pretty painfully obvious. I’m living in New Athens full time but I travel back to New Rome fairly frequently… gotta maintain all those temples I built as the Pontifex.

Can you tell us a little bit about yourself? ( If you’re applying for a canon character, are you diverging from book-canon? If so, how?)

It’s hard to really quantify divergence from canon. The books end when Jason’s 17 and a lot can change in six years, particularly in the six years between 17 and 23. I think the most glaring divergence between my Jason and book Jason is that my Jason is bisexual. Beyond that, I think in the years since he resigned as Praetor and took up the mantle of Pontifex Maximus he’s had to focus on his emotional education. Jason came to Camp young, and was claimed by the King young. He’s always been the leader, the one people look to for guidance be it as Centurion or Praetor, and after the war with Gaia all that sloughs off. He finally has a chance not to be the man with the iron will and the unflappable sense of leadership and moral duty. The problem is he’s been that way for so long that teaching himself softness and vulnerability is something he’s still working on.

What were you doing prior to The Recall?

before we were all so unceremoniously called back to hide within our enchanted walls I was a creative writing major at NYU and I worked at this amazing used bookstore in Times Square where I spent entirely too much money.

SHOWTIME!

“If you’ll flip to the last page of your syllabus you’ll see NAU’s policy on plagiarism and my personal policy on monster attacks. You get three excused absences per semester for defending the city, and after that it’s going to start affecting your grade. For class on Thursday read the first six chapters of Atticourt’s “Of Myth and Madness” and write at least four stanzas of a poem about your life in the style of Flautus the Younger. If you’re having trouble I recommend workshopping it with other members of the class. Dismissed.”

One of the advantages of attending college in a town full of the partially-divine was that literally everyone was a non-traditional student. Nobody batted an eyelash if you were a 23 year old sophomore because you’d spent the first couple of years after you turned 18 building temples to forgotten gods and goddesses. You were just as non-traditional as the 11 year old daughter of Athena who sat in the front row of your intro to calculus lecture. Jason slid the canvas strap of his bag over his shoulder as he walked from the classroom into the blinding sunlight of NAU’s campus.The unique cacophony of the sheltered city hit him as he pushed through the glass doors; a melange of people shouting, the smells of burnt offerings from nearby restaurants, and the bright splashes of orange t-shirts nobody could seem to give up. He knew if he was closer to the city border he could hear the sound of celestial bronze against imperial gold; sounds interdicted within the city limits, but it was nice to be somewhere where peace was the word of Law. The Recall had turned them into a terrarium of sorts, a ship in a bottle filled not with the souls of the damned… but the souls of the stagnant at the very least.

“Grace! Same as usual, darlin?”

Snapping out of the daze he’d been walking in, Jason looked around to find that quite unbidden his feet had brought him to Cafe Moreno, one of his favorite haunts within the city, and in front of its diminutive proprietor, the charmingly Southern Alexander.

“Earth to Jason…” Xander smiled broadly, while gesturing to the growing line behind Jason, “It’s three pm and you’ve got a backpack on so I’m gonna say a cafe affogato and three beignets since you clearly just came from class. All for the sake of keeping the line moving. Sound good?”

Chuffing a laugh at the swiftness and efficiency with which he had been reduced to a set of habits and a coffee order, Jason sat at one of the nearby tables, fingers tracing the worn wood as he waited. New Athens, and for that matter New Rome had always seemed strange facsimiles to him. He’d been into the real world many a time, he’d even been born in it though that seemed ten lifetimes ago. But Charleston with Reyna, a trip across the United States and Mediterranean with the rest of the Seven, and myriad other quests had given him ample opportunity to see the world, and the line that New Athens straddled between it and the world of the gods left it firmly within the Uncanny Valley. A dryad dropped his coffee and snack off and Jason smiled broadly, shifting the accoutrements of the table around to make room for the pungent brew, the pastries, and the book he was meant to be reading. He couldn’t really take the demigod cities too much to task for their disjointedness, however. They were a mirror of the men, women, and mythological creatures that lived inside of them; Jason included. In the six years since he’d retired as Praetor and shoved the role onto Frank in a desperate gambit to keep them alive in the House of Hades a lot had happened. They’d saved the world, he’d become Pontifex Maximus, travelled back and forth between the coasts setting up temples and recording the deeds and trials of the lesser deities, and now with the Recall in effect they were all just doing the best they could to keep life running in some semblance of normalcy. Now that he’d transferred from NYU to NAU and quit his job at the bookstore in the city in exchange for working at the bookstore across from the Agora he saw life in the city mirroring his own personal development. The city held two ideals in its hands, trying to balance them on scales that never seemed to find their equilibrium, much like Jason held his past and his present and tried to find balance between them. The iron-willed leader who had looked upon the Apocalypse and never shown his fear, and the adult who wrote stories, who remembered the forgotten and made sure they were worshipped properly, who knew that there was strength in softness and weakness in thinking yourself invincible.

A slight smile crossed his face and tugged at the scar above his lip as he took a first bite of the cloud-like confection Xander was known for. It may have been a juggling act he was still getting the hang of, but at least recently he’d begun to feel like an actual adult, like someone who could take the disparate parts of themselves and make it into a cohesive whole. A work in progress, yes, but at least he kept the work up.. That’s what mattered.

#accepted #jason grace

1 note · View note