#IM SO GRATEFUL NOBODY IS HERE TO DISTURB ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heejinnien · 4 years ago

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i.jaebum & p.jinyoung | crimson roses part one

word count: 3k

pairing: jaebum x reader x jinyoung

synopsis: when y/n’s sister is murdered, she’s forced to evaluate everything that she thought she knew.

genre: mystery, witsec au

warnings: the reader is in a club (they’re old enough to legally be there), murder, gore, imagery used to describe the reader tripping over and finding a dead body, probably incorrect portrayal of the witsec program, there’s a mildly disturbing nightmare

rating: pg-17

author’s note: this is part one of the walking on sunshine event! it focuses on summer beginnings. i was partnered with @dreamystuffers, and credits to them for the amazing moodboard! thank you @birbdae and ryan for being my beta readers. seriously, thank you for filling in all the spaces where i wrote blah blah

“I freaking hate Tzuyu.”

You groan, dropping your head in your hands. Sympathetically, the bartender slides a glass of water towards you, accepting the grunt that you emit afterwards as a sort of thank you. You pause in your wallowing to take a long sip of the icy liquid, feeling the pressure in your head lift slightly.

“Rough night?”

The bartender’s smooth, baritone voice carries over the loud sounds of the club’s music, and you wince at his words.

“Something like that.”

The bartender looks as though he’ll say more, but he’s cut off by the sound of a high, feminine voice ordering another drink. You’re grateful for the distraction, sliding a wad of bills over the counter and slipping off of the metal stool. You appreciate the kindness he has shown you, but you really need to start looking for your sister.

Slowly, you begin to weave through the throng of clubgoers, searching for anyone who moderately resembles your sister. You wince as an elbow connects with your stomach and bite back a curse when a heel stabs your toe. Still, there is no sign of your sister.

Pushing your way to the far side of the club, you lean against a wall, panting slightly, and pull out your phone. The LED at the top signals that nobody tried to call or text you while you were struggling to navigate a mob of drunk clubgoers, and a knot of worry tightens itself in your stomach. It’s been over an hour since you last saw your sister. She left you at a booth with a few of your mutual acquaintances to go dance, and you haven’t seen her since. Giving them an awkward smile, you had slid out of the booth to go sit at the bar. You were more polite to them because they were your sister’s friends than anything, and you know you hadn’t been imagining the awkwardness that had settled into the air once your sister had left.

You quickly swipe through your phone, silently praying that Tzuyu will answer and tell you she took a cab back to your shared apartment and she forgot to tell you, or that she’s actually been in the bathroom constipated this entire time.

“Hi, this is Tzuyu, I’m busy right now, which is why I didn’t pick up…”

With a groan, you turn your phone off. Pushing yourself off the wall, you weave your way to the bathrooms, opting to begin your second search there. Unsurprisingly, the small metal stalls are empty. You cringe as your shoe sticks to an unknown substance, exiting the bathroom and mind racing about where Tzuyu’s whereabouts could be.

A cool breeze winds itself around you, tousling your hair gently and you freeze.

A breeze?

You turn away from the rest of the clubbers, following the hallway deeper into the building. The further you go, the darker it gets, and a second chill sets upon you, one unrelated to the cool breeze.

Heart pounding, you turn the corner and see a cracked doorway. The soft light of the night greets you, and you feel a spark of relief. Maybe her phone died and your sister went out this door to leave. You quickly hurry out the door, pushing it open and turning down the alleyway.

You’ve only gone a few paces, pulling out your phone to dial your sister again when your foot collides with something hard. Your arms flail as you attempt to right yourself, but you go down, your elbow colliding with something soft and your chin colliding with the hardness of the asphalt.

Letting out a groan, you try to push yourself up by pressing your hands against the ground on either side of you, but they slip. Something wet and sticky coats your hands, and confusion fills you as you blindly reach around you for your phone. Your fingers connect with the cold metal, and you’ve scarcely turned on the device and activated the flashlight before you’re greeted with the mutilated body of your sister.

It takes you a second to register that the loud noise you hear is your own screaming.

You stare blankly ahead of you in shock.

Vaguely, you hear someone talking to you, but it’s like you’re underwater, all the sounds around you muffled. The image of your sister is frozen in your mind, your fingers trembling as you grip the blanket that someone wrapped around you tightly.

You think back to the last time you saw her, only a few hours ago, smiling and joyous and alive.

If she were here with you right now, she would have something comforting to say. She’d always been the more level of you too, somehow able to keep calm even in situations when you’ve felt panicked. But she’s not.

It should have been me, you think bitterly, rocking back and forth.

“Miss L/N.”

A hand settling on your arm causes you to jump and pull yourself out of your trance. Dumbly, you look at the hand, using it to trace your way up the unknown person’s wrist and arm until you can see their face. Concerned eyes stare back at you, and you force yourself to listen to what the unknown man is saying.

“I’m sorry to say this, but your clothes need to be bagged for evidence.”

You blink, unable to process the man’s words.

“Miss L/N, please. I know you want us to catch whoever did this to your sister, and we’re trying our best, but we need to bag your clothing as evidence.”

The mention of your sister clears the fog that has settled over you, and you nod. Weakly, you stand, following the man as he guides you to a restroom. He hands you a bag and a stack of clothes, instructing for you to change into the new set and bag the old clothes.

Robotically, you do as he tells you to until you’re changed into a sweater several sizes too big and a pair of jeans that cling to your legs tightly. You splash water on your face, staring at yourself hollowly in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, a foreign, hollow look in your eyes. Get it together, Y/N, you chide yourself. You can cry about this later. For Tzuyu.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you turn, exiting the bathroom with the bag of your old clothes in your hands. As soon as you exit, several furtive glances are sent your way. You furrow your brows in confusion, and a new, unknown man hurries over to you.

“Please follow me quickly, Miss L/N.”

“I don’t understand.”

The man doesn’t respond, hurrying you through the station and down a hallway until you’re stopped in front of a closed door. A plaque centered on the door reads “Sergeant Park.” Not wasting the time to knock, the man pushes open the door, taking the bag from your hands and ushering you in.

“Miss L/N, I’m so sorry about your loss.”

Hearing those words makes your throat tighten again, and you force your feelings down. You look around you, noting the awards adorning the walls around you. Two men stand inside the office, both wearing grim expressions. The one who spoke is seated behind the desk, and he stands, gesturing for you to take the free seat opposite him.

“There’s something we need to talk to you about.”

“My sister was a good person, she wasn’t mixed up in anything — ” You protest.

“That’s not what this is about.” The man opposite you, Sergeant Park, you assume, holds up his hand. “Time is crucial here, so please just listen to what I have to tell you.”

You nod, throat clogging from fearful anticipation.

“The Black Rose is the name of a powerful crime syndicate who’ve been running for the past few decades. We’ve tried our best to stop them, but they have connections everywhere.”

“My sister — ” You spring to your feet.

“Miss L/N. Please.”

You sink back into the chair, cheeks burning and thoroughly chastised. Once you’re seated, Sergeant Park continues.

“We’re not sure who all is involved with them, but what we do know is that they mark every kill, and they never kill without reason.”

Your thoughts race as you hear the unspoken words. “And my sister was marked,” you deadpan.

Sergeant Park nods grimly, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up within you. It dies instantly at the serious expression on Sergeant Park’s face.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Sergeant Park purses his lips, speaking slowly. “Until we know for sure, we need you to go into witness protection. We promise that we wouldn’t make you do this if we weren’t sure that your life is at serious risk. Mr. Im?”

Sergeant Park gestures to the other person in the room, who you assume is Mr. Im. Until now, he’s been silent, and you almost forgot that he’s here. He gives you a gentle smile.

“Please, call me Jaebum.” His tone is soothing, and you want to trust him. Still, you bite your lip, hesitant.

Sergeant Park speaks again. “Mr. Im will protect you the entire duration of the program. I promise that you’re in good hands. You guys will leave tonight.”

Alarm bells ring in your head. “Wait, tonight? I don’t understand. I still have finals, and what about my life here — ”

“Miss L/N.” Sergeant Park fixes you with a stern look. “I understand that things may seem intimidating right now, but I need you to do your best to do what we say. You could be a key role in this investigation, and Mr. Im is here to ensure that no harm comes to you. I know that this isn’t ideal, but please just let us protect you.”

You look from Sergeant Park to Jaebum. The latter gives you a reassuring smile, and your head still reels from all of the events of the night, but you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you breathe. “Okay, what do I have to do?”

“You keep twisting your bracelet.”

Jaebum’s voice pierces through your mindless thoughts and the dull monotony of the journey. You have been driving for the better part of the night, your thoughts still racing as you try to process everything. You look down at the bracelet Jaebum is talking about, and even though it’s dark you know what he’s talking about.

“My sister gave it to me,” you say simply.

“It must be pretty important to you, then,” he observes, eyes never straying once from the road.

“Something like that,” you say, assuming that’s the end of the conversation. Seconds later, Jaebum speaks again.

“Look, Y/N, I know that a lot has happened in one night — ”

“Please don’t,” you whisper, voice cracking. You clear your throat, staring out the window at the dark shadows of the landscape. “Don’t try to act like you understand how I feel. Twenty-four hours ago I was just a college student, and now…”

You swallow thickly, a lump forming itself in your throat.

“You are still just a college student, Y/N.”

“You know, aren’t you supposed to be using my new name?” You force yourself to change the topic, looking at Jaebum out of the side of your eyes.

Jaebum coughs awkwardly. “We aren’t there yet, and I thought that using your real name would make you more…comfortable with me.”

You scoff, but don’t speak. Awkward silence fills the car, interrupted only by the occasional sound of the night from outside your car window.

You remain like that for the rest of the ride. Everytime you think about saying something, you bury it, not wanting to show interest.

After a while, the road turns to dirt. The car bounces along the new road, and you can’t help but feel even further isolated from your old life. Jaebum pulls down a narrow driveway, and then the car stops, bathing a small cottage in the car’s light. Jaebum turns off the car’s ignition, and as you open the car’s door, you can hear the soft sound of waves crashing. Sand crunches beneath your shoes as you take in the sights around you.

You hear the sound of the trunk close, and seconds later Jaebum rounds the car, duffel bags gripped in his hands.

“This is it,” Jaebum says.

“I guess so,” you agree, exhaling nervously. You follow Jaebum up the cottage’s steps, hovering uncertaintly as he unlocks the front door. Following him inside, you squint against the bright yellow lights of the cottage.

You’re standing in a small living room. To your left is the kitchen and what you assume is the dining room, and to the right is a hallway. Jaebum leads you down the hallway, setting one of the duffle bags in front of a plain, unassuming white door.

“This is your room. Mine is right next to you.” Jaebum knocks goofily on the door in front of him, and you let out a short laugh.

“Okay.”

You grab your bag, pushing open the door to the room. You pause in the doorway, unsure. “Good night, Jaebum.”

A moment passes, and then you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Tzuyu! Where are you?”

You’re in a meadow, tall stalks of wheat reaching your shoulders. You frown, trying to remember how you got here, but you can’t. Alarm bells ring in your head, and you push through the stalks, searching for your sister.

“Tzuyu! Tzuyu! Where — are — you?”

Your voice is reflected back at you, distorted and garbled. Panic rises in you, bubbling hot like lava, and you begin to push through the stalks around you faster.

Finally, you stumble upon a clearing. A flock of birds takes flight, and your eyes scan the clearing, frantic. A body lies on the ground unmoving, and you run towards it. Deep in your gut you know who it is, but that doesn’t stop the gasp that leaves you as you clearly identify the girl lying there.

It’s Tzuyu.

The sight of her body makes you freeze, and before you can stop it you trip. When you regain your bearings, you’re back in the alley again. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and as you do Tzuyu’s hand shoots out, wrapping itself around your wrist. A scream gets choked in your throat as your sister sits up, smile stretching too wide for her face.

“Why didn’t you save me?”

“Tzuyu, you’re hurting me,” you cry, trying to pry your sister’s grasp from your wrist. She only holds on tighter, other hand shooting out and wrapping itself around your throat.

“Why didn’t you save me? Why didn’t you SAVE ME?”

A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you shoot into a sitting position, clutching the comforter you had admired just hours earlier against you. Your breathing is ragged, and dimly you hear heavy footsteps. Seconds later, harsh light floods your room and you throw your hand against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the intrusion.

Jaebum’s eyes are wild as he takes in your room, the way you’re sitting up, clutching the comforter against you. His muscles relax as he ascertains that you are physically safe, eyes softening at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, embarrassment beginning to seep through your previous horror.

“I’m sorry, had a nightmare.” You force yourself to laugh, the sound an octave too high to be believable. “You can just go back to your room, everything is fine.”

You swallow forcefully, staring down at the comforter and picking at a thread that has unwound itself from the careful stitching. Silently, you yell at Jaebum to leave. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand being mortified, discomfort seeping into the air around you.

After a long pause, you hear the gentle click of your door close. You don’t bother to look up, instead electing to close your eyes, sure that by the count of ten, he’ll be gone.

You’ve just reached eight when you feel your bed dip, and strong arms wrapping themselves around you. You stiffen, eyes snapping open to glare at the offender.

“You don’t have to treat me like a baby, I told you that I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to be weak you know.”

To your immense horror, you feel your eyes begin to well. You blink rapidly, trying to untangle yourself from Jaebum’s presence, but he holds on tightly. Before you can stop it, all of the emotions of the past twenty-four hours hit you, crashing against the gate that you had shoved them behind. The emotions you felt at your sister’s death, the emotional burden of having to suddenly end your old life and going into hiding suddenly become too much, and before you can help it tears stream down your cheeks. You gasp as you struggle to breathe, everything suddenly just becoming too much.

Time goes by without either of you realizing it, and neither of you know how long you remain in that position, Jaebum patting your back lightly as your grief pours out of you. After a few sniffles and swipes across your eyes you let out a groan, pulling away and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes.

“God, I can’t believe I just did that.”

“It’s okay, everyone has to let go of emotions at some point.” Jaebum gives you a gentle smile. “You should try to get some rest.”

“Will you stay with me?” Jaebum’s eyes widen, and you quickly scramble to backtrack. “I mean, you don’t have to — I don’t know what I was thinking — ”

“Of course I will.” Jaebum cuts off your ramble, smiling brightly. “I’ll just bring in a blanket from my room and sleep on the floor — ”

“You can share with me if you want. I don't mind; we both need a good night sleep, right?” You blurt quickly, panting slightly as you finish your question. Jaebum simply laughs, running a hand through his hair. He climbs onto the bed and lays on his side, patting the bed next to him. Shyly, you crawl next to him, laying down and trying not to think about the position you’re in too deeply.

Wrapped in the comfort of Jaebum’s warmth, you close your eyes, focusing on the gentle sounds of your breathing. A sense of tranquility washes over you, and you finally fall asleep.

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#on the shore #kpopscape #summerscape #got7writerscollective #jaebum x reader #im jaebum #im jaebeom #park jinyoung #jinyoung x reader #got7 #got7 jinyoung #got7 fics #got7 au #witsec au

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vennilavee · 4 years ago

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parental moments - one

to build a home masterlist

attack on titan masterlist

check out this story on ao3

Pairing: levi x reader

Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District. this is a series of moments where you and levi act as parental figures to the new hires of the survey corps.

Chapter Warnings: alcohol, eren gets roofied and descriptions of being drugged

Word Count: 3876

A/N: decided to write levi and reader as being parental figures to the new hires of the survey corps. i know nobody asked for it BUT IM WRITING IT. these will come once in a while lmao. pls read the warnings before reading. can be read as a stand alone

***

Levi had fallen asleep before you for a change. He’s draped over you, face pressing into your chest and hair plastered against your neck. His heartbeat is a steady symphony against yours, nearly pushing you back to sleep but not quite.

You groan and rub your eyes, suddenly awake and your heart racing. What had even woken you up?

Oh yes. The sound of your phone ringing and cutting through your peaceful sleep.

Your heart is hammering from the sudden intrusion as you fumble over your nightstand to try to find your phone. Levi will certainly wake up and complain- he’s such a light sleeper and you want to curse whoever is calling you at this ungodly hour for daring to wake a man who has trouble sleeping as it is.

It’s Armin calling.

Gently moving Levi off of you as discreetly as you can without disturbing him, you answer, worried that something has happened. He hardly ever calls you, and never this late.

“Armin? Is everything okay?” You murmur, clearing your throat of it’s hoarseness.

The shouting and bustling in the background gives you an inkling to his whereabouts. You can vaguely make out Mikasa’s strained, concerned voice.

“I know it’s late- I-I’m so sorry,” Armin slurs, “We went to a bar, and Eren’s so out of it and we don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who to call, everyone else left-”

“Slow down Armin,” You say, getting out of bed and tugging some leggings on. You splash some water on your face to wake yourself up and grab a hoodie.

You can already see Levi sitting up, eyes narrowed in annoyance before shifting to neutrality.

“Armin,” You say firmly but gently when he starts rambling, “What bar are you at?”

“Um- We’re outside of The Atomic Bar. We can barely hold Eren up-”

“Armin! Listen to me. One of you go back inside and get water for Eren. Make him drink lots of water and make sure he stays awake. I can be at The Atomic in fifteen minutes,” You say and dread begins to fill you.

You can almost predict what had happened, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. The Atomic Bar is known for it’s creepy patrons and you wonder why they chose to go there. Armin blubbers his thanks and you tell him that you will call him when you’re close to the bar.

When you turn around, you see Levi pulling a hoodie on and searching for his shorts to pull over his boxers. You walk over to him to fix his messy bedhead and he just shoots you a look.

“You can go back to sleep, honey. I can handle three drunk kids,” You murmur, already knowing he would dismiss the idea.

“And leave you to deal with them on your own?” Levi scoffs.

“You’re sweet,” You grin, kissing his cheek, “C’mon, let’s go. Armin sounded scared.”

Levi brings a few water bottles and snacks in a backpack, just in case, as well as some blankets. You speed through the city, thankful that it’s not as busy as it usually is. After all, it’s nearly 3 AM on a Friday night. Or Saturday morning.

“The Atomic is so gross. I can’t believe they’re still in operation,” You mutter, “Remember the first and only time we went there?”

Levi isn’t fond of the memory- recalling how you had convinced him to go there with you many years ago and then the night had ended with you nearly getting roofied by the bartender no less. He recalls how he had nearly launched himself over the bar to shove his fist into the bartender’s face, but you had held him back of course. The bartenders and most of the patrons were creepy and in cahoots. You both had tried your hardest to get the place shut down, but your complaints had fallen on deaf ears.

He squeezes your hand and looks out of the window.

“I see them,” He murmurs and you hastily find a parking spot.

***

Mikasa is trying to force water down Eren’s throat while nearly shouting at him to stay awake. He has a dazed sort of smile on his face, his vibrant, green eyes glassy and wide. It seems like he’s staring through Mikasa and it unnerves her.

“She’ll be here soon. He’ll be fine,” Armin mutters to himself.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Mikasa says dryly and whips her head to Eren when she notices him closing his eyes, “Eren! You have to stay awake-”

Armin narrows his eyes at the two shapes from across the street. He realizes it’s you and Levi jogging towards them and he waves to get your attention.

“They’re both here,” Armin sighs in relief.

“Eren,” You say softly, holding him upright against the brick wall, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Eh?” His eyes are out of focus but he gasps in recognition when he sees you and Levi.

“Eren,” You murmur urgently, “Drink this water for me. You have to stay awake.”

Levi already has an uncapped bottle of water ready for him and you take it, pushing it towards Eren’s lips. To your surprise, he chugs the entire bottle in one go and you sigh in relief. He gives you a startlingly bright smile.

“Our two captains…” Eren mumbles. He tries reaching for you but misses your shoulder by several inches.

“We should take him to the urgent care,” Levi says, tossing the water bottle into his bag and moving to lift Eren up to take him to the car. Levi lifts him easily and doesn’t bat an eyelash when Eren’s arms flail at the sudden movement.

You nod and gesture for Armin and Mikasa to follow you to the car. The bustle of the bar hasn’t calmed down yet, and you have half a mind to tear into there and demand to know who was responsible. You saw the flash of near murder in Levi’s eyes, too. You know you’re both on the same page.

“Put him in the back. Armin, you sit in the front. Mikasa and I will stay in the back with Eren,” You instruct, hastily opening the back doors.

The pull of fatigue has washed away quickly and is replaced by grim alertness. All you see is the alarm in Armin and Mikasa’s eyes and the haunting emptiness of Eren’s eyes. You’re certain he’s been roofied, but don’t want to jump to conclusions until he sees a doctor.

You gingerly adjust him so that his head is in Mikasa’s lap. You pretend not to see Mikasa brushing his hair from his eyes.

“Soft,” Eren mumbles.

You would laugh if you weren’t so worried. Mikasa’s dark eyes find yours and you squeeze her forearm reassuringly. Eren curls into Mikasa and holds her upper arm. You make sure to keep an ear out for his soft but steady breaths.

“Almost there,” Comes Levi’s voice from the front. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror and you nod at him.

“Have some water and snacks,” You murmur to Mikasa and Armin, “I’m sure it’s been a long night.”

***

The sun is beginning to rise, giving the sky a faint glow before she makes her full ascent by the time you all leave the urgent care. You can tell Mikasa and Armin’s adrenaline is wearing off from their wide yawns.

The doctor had stated that a small amount of GHB was found in Eren’s system and had advised that he sleep it off and stay hydrated. Your shoulders had slumped in relief but Eren’s eyes were still as glassy as ever. You ruffle his hair fondly before you help them into the car and drape blankets across all of them.

Before Levi gets in the driver’s seat, he presses a quick kiss to your lips and casts a lingering look over you.

You’re all tired. But relieved.

“Look at the sunrise,” You whisper, lazily looking over to Levi once you’re both in the car. You take his hand in yours and kiss his knuckles absent-mindedly. Pretending you don’t hear the hitch in his breath.

Splotches of oranges and purples paint across the sky, illuminated by the golden glow of the rising sun. It’s a new day, a new morning and you can’t help but smile at it.

“You’re unusually chipper for being up all night. I know how much you value your beauty sleep,” Levi says dryly, an undercurrent of teasing in his tone.

“Yes, and my prince charming is always there to wake me up from my sleeping coma,” You say, enjoying the twitch of his jaw.

“Shut up.”

You stick your tongue out in response.

***

Levi is tasked with taking Eren to your apartment, while you’re tasked with waking Mikasa and Armin up. You gently shake their shoulders to rouse them, Mikasa’s dark eyes spring open and she nearly headbutts you.

“Mikasa, it’s just me. We’re home. You three will stay with us and sleep,” You say softly.

“No- We’ll be fine,” Mikasa protests.

“Let us take care of you, honey. It’s been a long, scary night,” You say soothingly and she relents, her shoulders relaxing.

Armin starts waking up from his sleep and you offer him a small smile. He looks confused for a moment, before recalling the night's events. With a sigh, he rubs his face and drags himself out of the car.

“Thank you for everything,” Armin says earnestly.

“It’s no problem, Armin. I told you, if you guys ever need anything, that’s what we’re here for,” You murmur, patting his head. The same way Levi does.

“Where are Eren and Captain?” Mikasa asks warily.

“Levi took him inside already, don’t worry,” You murmur, rubbing your eyes, “C’mon. We all need to sleep for a bit.”

***

You hand Mikasa some of your own comfy clothes and hand Armin some of Levi’s sleep clothes to change into. They wash up quickly, just washing their hands and their faces before you usher them into yours and Levi’s bed. The couch isn’t big enough for the three of them to comfortably sleep.

You’re grateful that Levi had just washed the sheets last night. Levi looks at you and you know he’s thinking the same thing.

Fatigue washes over you after you tuck the three of them in and Levi leaves several glasses of water and a garbage can next to them before closing the door and allowing them to sleep.

With your favorite big, fuzzy blanket in hand, you gesture for him to join you on the couch. Your eyes are drooping, they’re barely open and he knows you’re barely hanging on to consciousness. You’re both already changed out of your outside clothes, as Levi calls them. He draws the blinds all the way back so that the sunlight doesn’t bother either of you.

“Levi, honey,” You say hoarsely, beckoning him to you.

“Yes, sweetheart,” He mumbles and settles next to you on the couch. You both have to maneuver yourselves carefully, so that Levi doesn’t fall off or that you don’t get a stiff neck. You end up sleeping on top of Levi and you try to stay awake until he falls asleep. But with the brush of his lips over your hairline, you’re already drifting to a deep sleep. Your hand curls around the collar of his shirt, your grip barely loosening even as you sleep.

Levi is grateful when sleep comes easy for him, too.

***

It’s about three hours later when you wake up, and you’re surprised to see Levi still sleeping. His grip around your waist loosened in his sleep and his head is turned towards you. You resist the urge to trace the planes of his face and to rake your fingers through his hair, knowing he’ll wake up if you do. You settle on pressing a light kiss to his forehead before getting off of the couch to brush your teeth, shower, and start making a late breakfast for everyone.

You’re quiet and quick as you get ready, eager to throw on fresh clothes after your shower. You sneak in and out of your bedroom and your bathroom with practiced precision.

But you know that it was only a matter of time before Levi woke up. He’s sitting up on the couch, running a hand over his face and through his hair.

“You’re up before me,” Levi says as you sink into his lap and play with his hair.

“Crazier things have happened,” You roll your eyes. He hums and noses at your neck, enjoying the lavender scent on your skin. Levi tries to kiss you but you turn your cheek.

“There are three guests who are currently sleeping in our bed,” You hiss, “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“They’re in our home and I can’t even kiss my other half? In our own home?” Levi asks incredulously, “As if I need their permission.”

“They don’t need to-mmmph-”

Levi cuts you off with a kiss, and really who were you to protest the soft feel of his rough lips against yours? You’re in your own world with Levi, giggling as his fingers skim your skin from under your shirt and squeeze your thighs all while his lips are on yours. He’s about to press kisses down the column of your throat, when he hears the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You send him a glare that could kill him before clumsily climbing off of his lap. Levi looks unashamed, of course.

“Er,” Mikasa says and Levi snorts in response.

“I was just going to-uh, start making food for us,” You say sheepishly.

“Oh, is that what that was? Did you find breakfast in Captain’s mouth?” Mikasa says dryly and your jaw drops in shock.

Your jaw drops even further in shock when you hear Levi laugh. You turn to meet his gaze and he can’t help but laugh again at how horrified you look.

“Stop making fun of me,” You groan, rubbing your face, “You gonna get up off your ass or what, Levi Ackerman? Go give Mikasa some toothbrushes for her, Armin and Eren. And go check on Eren, too.”

You’re busy, in the process of making a simple but effective breakfast, complete with smoothies made from fresh fruit. You barely notice Levi come out of the bathroom with wet hair, and you definitely barely notice him until he wraps his arms around you from behind. But you immediately recognize his touch and the way he molds into you and you relax. Reaching behind you, you fondly rake your nails in his hair as a greeting.

He pulls away quickly, equally not wanting the three of them to see more than they need of your sweet touches. The familiar scent of his earthy shower gel wafts into your nose, lingering and kissing your skin.

“So domestic of you,” You tease as he sets plates for everyone. Levi shoots you a glare with no real heat behind it and you laugh.

“I’ll make tea,” Levi says, “What tea do you want?”

“Uh. I’m good with whatever you’re having,” You shrug and he nods.

As you finish up breakfast, you bump hips with him and he responds with a flick to your forehead each time.

“I’ll go check on Eren,” You murmur, lightly scratching his back, in between his shoulder blades.

You knock on your bedroom door and softly tell them that you’re coming in. You hear Armin and Mikasa murmur an acknowledgement.

“Good morning,” You say with a smile, “Did you sleep okay?”

You look to Eren, who is in deep sleep and doesn’t look like he’s waking up any time soon. You sit on the edge of the bed, next to him and watch his chest rise and fall reassuringly.

“He just needs to sleep it off,” You murmur and Mikasa and Armin nod, “Breakfast is ready. I set aside some for Eren when he wakes up.”

***

You’re midway through your plate of breakfast when you hear shuffling coming from your bedroom. Mikasa hears it too and you lock eyes with her, heading into your bedroom together. Eren groans, holding his head in his hands. His eyes are focused, no longer glassy and dazed.

“Good morning, Eren. How are you feeling?” You ask carefully, unsure of what he remembers.

He looks confused as he stares at you, and then Mikasa, then back to you. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to remember what happened last night. Mikasa touches his elbow gingerly, and he gasps.

“Eren,” Mikasa says softly.

He looks at both of you with slumped shoulders, helplessness scrawled in his eyes.

“How-why… What happened?” Eren groans, rubbing his temples.

“You were roofied, honey. Armin called me and Levi and I came to get you three and take you to the urgent care. They found traces of GHB in your system-”

“That drink was meant for me,” Mikasa says, voice shaky, “It was meant for me and you drank it. I was watching- the bartender mixed them up. And I didn’t realize until it was too late. It was supposed to be mine.”

“But… nothing happened. You got to me before anything did,” Eren says slowly, “I’m glad it was me, rather than you, Mikasa.”

You see tears in Mikasa’s eyes as her bottom lip begins to tremble and decide that’s your cue to give them space.

***

Armin heads into the bedroom as well once he hears Eren and Mikasa softly speaking. You nod at him and he excuses himself. You stand next to Levi, grasping his shoulder.

“Mikasa said that the drink was meant for her. Not Eren,” You whisper, a forlorn look on your face, “That place is awful. Poor Eren. And poor Mikasa. Nobody should be subject to that. Or fearful of that happening.”

Levi runs a thumb over your knuckles and hums, thinking back to the time you had almost been roofied as well.

“We’ve got to do something about that place,” He murmurs, voice barely above a breath and his grip tightening over yours.

Eren steps out with Mikasa and Armin in tow, looking unsure of himself and uncharacteristically nervous. You offer him a reassuring smile and open your arms for a hug. You rub his back and hold on to him for a few moments longer, hoping he soaks up your warmth.

“Breakfast is ready,” You murmur, “You’re safe here, Eren.”

He nods against your shoulder and pulls away. Levi offers him a cup of hot tea, knowing that it would give him some energy. Eren closes his eyes for a moment and enjoys the feeling of the hot tea warming him up from within.

“Sit, Eren,” Levi says, nodding to Armin and Mikasa.

And so he does.

***

“I’ll drive them back,” Levi murmurs, taking the car keys out of your hands, “Sleep. You’re tired.”

“So are you,” You point out, nudging his shoulder.

“You’re useless when you’re this tired.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, honey.”

Levi hums and pecks your cheek. Armin, Mikasa and Eren emerge with their things, also eager to sleep in their own beds. They thank you once more, for rescuing them and giving them food and a place to sleep. Before Eren puts his shoes on, he abruptly gives you a tight hug and mutters another grateful thank you. You give Armin and Mikasa a hug, and tell Levi to drive safely.

The apartment is oddly quiet once they leave and you start to clean up, washing leftover dishes and sweeping the floors. Armin had washed their dishes without you asking and you hadn’t missed Levi’s neutral expression as he watched. Only you would be able to tell that he was impressed at his initiative.

His skill in washing dishes was another story, but Levi said nothing.

You quickly clean up the kitchen, humming a song you can’t remember the name of as you do so. You laugh to yourself as you recall the first time Levi had complimented you on your cleaning. It held the same weight to you as him calling you pretty, to be honest. Once you finish up the kitchen, you head to the bedroom to fix the sheets and pillows and straighten out the blankets.

You decide to change into a grey muscle tank and bike shorts, getting even comfier if that was possible. Your legs carry you of their own volition and you find yourself tucked into your side of the bed. You had been sure to shake the sheets out and fluff out the pillows, as you and Levi always did on the occasion when you had guests over. Levi prefers to wash the sheets right after anyone other than you or him sleeps in them, but you’re just so tired. And he had just washed them recently.

You welcome sleep with open arms.

***

The car ride back to Eren, Mikasa, and Armin’s apartment building is quiet but not uncomfortable. Mikasa had recently moved into the same building as them, opting for a single bedroom apartment.

They’re all lost in their own thoughts for the moment and Levi casts a glance at Eren. Eren is staring through the window, chin in his hand and green eyes swimming.

“Oi,” Levi says, “It’s not your fault. Armin called us in time. It’s not your fault that people are so shitty.”

Levi pointedly looks at both Mikasa and Eren when he sees a flash of guilt on Mikasa’s face.

“Just don’t go back there. We’ve had bad experiences there, too. It’s a fuckin’ shame they’re still open…”

“Yes, sir,” All three of them chorus.

Levi says nothing the remainder of the drive, leaving them to their own devices. He arrives at their apartment building relatively quickly, unlocking the doors for them to exit.

“Oi,” Levi calls from the driver’s seat once they’re standing on the sidewalk, “We have your back. Sleep well.”

They nod at him with small smiles, tittering noises of gratitude and Levi waits for them to go inside.

He relaxes in his seat as he drives home, thoughts filled with nothing but you.

***

Levi calls your name softly, unsurprised when he’s greeted with silence and a pristine kitchen. He’s not particularly tired, but he wouldn’t mind joining you for a nap. He’s certain he’ll find you in bed, under a mountain of covers.

His suspicions are correct. He washes his hands and climbs into bed next to you, aware that you’re half awake. You’re a light sleeper, like him. Or maybe because of him.

Reaching out to touch his face, you curl into his side and wrap an arm around his waist. Your lips press against his neck, a breathy sigh of his name escaping you.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Levi murmurs.

“Everyone okay?” You ask, voice hoarse with sleep.

Levi hums and rubs your waist from under your tank. Your eyelids feel like cinder blocks and you’re unable to keep them open. And how can you- when Levi is so warm? You sink your cold toes into the spaces in between his bare calves before shutting your eyes.

He kisses your forehead and watches you, as the scent of lavender and wood lulls him to sleep as well.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #aot #snk

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ratanslily · 4 years ago

Text

the stars took me home

pairing: bryce lahela x alessia lyxienne

for: @anotherbeingsworld ✨💕

a/n: this is a veryyyy short fic just because i miss bryce and i dont really got much time to write it because its like 2 in the night and i should rlly sleep lmao

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

she looked upto the sky, her favourite scenery to contemplate. the stars shone bright and beautiful, even in the dusty Boston air.

with every twinkle of the stars, her mind and her thoughts grew desperate.

did she make the right call? would her actions have more severe consequences than what she intended to? did she endanger the patient's life further?

all these questions, and all those stars but still no answers, just the abyss staring back at her. it felt like for every star twinkling in the sky, a new doubt arose in her mind. The weight of it all dawned on her shoulders and she looked towards the ground.

her feet took her forward, supposedly towards home. Her mind was in a full daze so she didnt look where she was going. Looking up, she realised she was standing right in front of Bryce's apartment.

(should i..?)

she didnt want to disturb him, but she knew nobody else could calm her down the way he could, he was the only person she needed to see now. with slight hesitation on her mind, she went up the stairs and knocked at his door.

Bryce responded quickly, opening the door.

"May i come in?"

"please, as if you need any excuse to."

"you're welcome here, whenever you want to."

he welcomed her in, with a warm smile, the same smile which made her heart flutter with happiness.

"i miss you."

"even after our endless video calls?"

"yeah, cause even hours of video calls cant compare to a minute of conversation with you in person"

"aww, alessia. ever since edenbrook, uh, i mean, bloom-edenbrook reopened, I've been in a tight schedule of surgeries, since dr. Tanaka is out of town right now, most of the other surgeons are first year interns and harper is busy in the diagonistic board and-"

bryce stopped short as he noticed the immediate fatigue flashing in her face as soon as he dropped the phrase "diagnostic board"

"what's wrong? a case of the diagnostic board gone wrong?"

she let out a fake chuckle.

"i dont even know if the case has even gone right or wrong.."

"fill me in, im curious"

slowly, she told him all about Francis, AVM and the critical decision left upto her to save him or his body parts for transplant.

Bryce listened intently as she let it all out, and opened herself in his presence, as he was the only one who could let her just be.

As she approached the part where she watched Francis from far away, unsure whether he would make it, or not, she let out a sob, a two, and ten more. Warm hands surrounded her as Bryce reached over for his usual conforting hug.

"Its okay Alessia. I'm proud of you. what decision 3 experienced doctors couldnt make, was made by you. what condition couldn't be predicted by such expert members, was done by you.You have the power to do anything. You see, the board is nothing, nothing without you. I know about the surgery concerning AVM and the decision to make has to be very quick. just think of it! You weighed pros and cons of the decision within seconds, so why doubt yourself?"

He pat her back reassuringly as Alessia felt warm in his embrace, surrounding her with peace and security.

"dont ever doubt yourself, okay?"

"okay", came her muffled voice as she buried her face deep into bryce's sweater.

the stars shined bright in the sky above them, as the moon took her place in the sky. down below, a grateful Alessia nestled into Bryce's arms. she had a million questions, unanswered, but she also had bryce, right by her side. and that was everything she could ever need.

she knew her apartment was a few minutes distance away from his, but right here, in this moment, in his arms? she was home.

#playchoices #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart #t fic tag #the idea of bryce being mc's home is very pleasing to me im not letting go of it anytime soon #i need to take classes on how to write fics OOF

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ivyuns · 4 years ago

Text

landing in your heart: failing

han jisung

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: location is in north korea, kissing, y/n gets lost in the dark, mentions of suicide at the end, not proofread, grammar mistakes, if theres anything i missed, lmk!

summary: as jisung helps y/n escape north korea, the plan was ruined. however, y/n has other plans to escape which leds to something that shouldnt happen.

note: i rushed :p

part four of landing in my heart

landing in my heart information

“were here to see your honesty and see if you’re trading goods or smuggling humans to other countries” “why would i do that?” the police stomps on the blue hallow board, which was where you and jisung were hiding.

“open up!” was what you both heard underneath. “jisung! what do we do?! you’re a soldier you should know what to do. geez” you silently yelled out. “in south korean dramas-” “what?! this is no time to talk about this” you freaked out. “i’m going to do something. now look at me and don’t be startled. look at me and nothing else”

with that, jisung slams his lips into yours as the door opened.

“o-oh- what is that?” the police asks the man and closes the board. “huh? open it back up”

as the police opens it up again, jisung slams his lips onto yours. as they told you guys to get out, they police asks for jisung’s id. “ah, you guys shouldn’t be doing that here. alright, turn the boat around”

turning the boat back to the shore, you were about to protest of how close you were to getting home. with tears slowly falling down, you dropped onto your knees as jisung looked at you with sad eyes.

back at jisung’s home, you two separated. jisung went to his room as you went to the living room to sleep. jisung sat on his floor and thought about ways on how to help you get back home safely. his thoughts was disturbed as he heard the front gate opening then slamming shut.

jisung quickly runs out of his room and sees the blankets folded nicely with a note on top.

‘thank you for everything. i dont want to cause anymore trouble for you so im going to find my own way on getting back home’

dropping the note, jisung quickly finds traces of where you might be.

“alright, i cant just stand here and wait. i need to do something.” you say then grab your walkie talkie. “this is y/n one, this is y/n one. if you can hear me, please say yes” hearing nothing, you assumed it’ll work on the way back home.

jisung finds you on a mountain with your paraglider, ready to take off. “yoon y/n!” jisung yells your name out. ‘huh?’ you thought. how did he find you so quick?

“h-how did you-” “y/n- what are you doing?” jisung asks while catching his breath. “i’m going to paraglide down” you answered. “huh? you cant! you’ll get seen with a naked eye and get shot, no matter if you land in the south or north” being shocked with jisung’s reply, he noticed your walkie talkie was still on.

“how long was this on for?”

the security department got an alert from the mountains. cheolgang rushes to go to the mountain that you were on which makes you scared that this spot that you are standing, will be your death spot.

suddenly, jisung brings you towards the edge, hugs you tightly and jumps off the mountain. “hold on tight” you told him. “im sorry about earlier, i was just frustrated and angry. in fact, i’m grateful of everything.” you hugged him tighter as jisung did the same, feeling some type of way inside his chest.

later that day, jisung went to the market as you were resting in his house. asking for the sales man for coffee beans, remembering that you wanted to relax with coffee, and gives him money and thanking him. manbok is also at the market, buying food for his family. before he could pay, robbers came by and stole his wallet.

jisung sees what happens and quickly runs towards where the robbers are running. after running, he runs towards the gang and ends up fighting with them. one of the gang members, who wasnt involved with the fight, moved behind jisung and almost stabbed jisung- until manbok shows up and stops the guy before stabbing jisung.

“i dont know how to thank you” manbok says. “no, its okay. theres a lot of pickpockets around here so just be careful next time.” manbok nods his head as jisung goes on his own way.

currently at the house, you discus with company 5 that you hope jisung will get promoted soon so that you can go home quickly. hearing the knock on the gate, you leave they guys and check to see who it is.

opening the gate, she sees the neighborhood women, asking if she wanted to come to young-ae’s birthday at her house. you thought about it and figured out you wanted to show them what fashion is actually. “mhm, ill meet you ladies over there soon” you smiled and closed the gate.

telling the boys where you were going, they left as soon as you did.

“young-ae unnie, what a lovely dress you have on” you greeted youngae. “u-unnie?” the other women asked in shock. “ah thank you, wait whats your name?” youngae ask. “o-oh uhm its yejin” you replied, feeling bad that you lied.

during the whole celebration, you showed youngae and the others your fashion senses on youngae and with everyone amazed, you’ve finally made the women minds change about you.

while you were out with the ladies, jisung visits the repair unit facility. he asks for a sample of the metal the was used for the trucks and then thanks the worker. returning home, company five lets him know that you went to youngaes house when jisung calls them about your whereabouts.

heading to youngaes house, he hears the happy voices. knocking on the door, youngae gets up and sees who it is. “ah, captain han, what are you doing here?” youngae asks. “im here to pick up my fiancee” he replies. as soon as jisung says that, you pop up behind youngae.

waving a goodbye to the others, you walk with jisung, both of you two smiling. spending some time with each other, you felt some type of way towards jisung, but you couldnt put your finger on it. ‘was it, love? no, it cant be. you cant be falling in love in north korea’ you thought.

back in south korea, your dad annouces that sehyeong will take over the family business, which results sejun and sanga angry. with this plan, the two brothers had another argument about this.

after the night full of fun activities, the morning came once again. jisung gets up before you and brews you a cup of coffee.

you wake up to the smell of coffee and immediately get up and run over to the kitchen. “here, try this” jisung hands you the cup of coffee. tasting the coffee, you felt as if it was the best coffee you’ve ever tried. thanking jisung, you shot him with heart with you fingers. “w-wait what did you just do?” jisung panics. “mm nothing, just a thank you” you told him and went on your day.

jisung, who is left alone in the kitchen, is confused of what you just did to him. he tries to do the heart on his on fingers and stops immediately and heads to the base.

“yah, hyunjin, felix, what does this mean?” jisung asks and does the finger heart. “oh my god, it means she disrespects you all the way.” hyunjin gasps dramatically, which make jisung slap him on the shoulder. “no, it just means she love you. and she wants you to have her heart” felix answers.

jisung sighs and tells hyunjin and felix to leave him alone for awhile.

currently in pyongyang. yiseo is out with her mom and uncle, shopping for a outfit. she runs into her long time friend after 10 years of studying aboard. “yiseo! how are you?” her friend asks. “i’m doing well, what about you?” “ah i’m doing well too, c/n, say hello to yiseo!”

“oh my god! myeongseok look at the baby!” yiseo’s mom exclaimed. “hi there baby” yiseo dropped to the child’s height and and smiled. “yiseo-ah, when will you have one with jisung?” “o-oh i haven’t-” “they’re about to be married” yiseo mom comes in. “i’m sorry, but we have to go”

as jisung left the house, the neighborhood women came to the house and asked if you wanted to go the market with them. wanting to leave the house desperately, you agreed as the four of you happily went to the market together.

asking youngae where the beauty products are, she leads you to the booth. the seller shows them the variety of products from the south. one of the products caught your eye which was one of your product, la vie en rose. “omo, youngae unnie, you should get the la vie en rose one”. youngae nods her head and buys one for everyone.

meanwhile in south korea, chansik talks to sehyeong, saying that you might've flew into north korea and everyone should start looking over there. sehyeong doesn't believe what they just said so he quickly dismisses the meeting, making sure they don’t spread any rumors which deflates chansik, wanting to find where his boss is.

back in north korea, yiseo was on her way to the village where jisung was staying. as the taxi breaks down, the driver apologizes and went to look for help. as minseok comes back from hunting, he sees yiseo almost having a breakdown. he decides to help her and make her way to jisungs.

in the state security department, cheolgang does his research about division 11, suspicious of your actions and behavior. “there was no other women in division 11 who has returned in 15 years sir” one of the soldiers tells him. cheolgang sighs in defeat, trying to know you better. wanting to know how and why you're here.

during the time at the market, you left the group as another stand caught you eye and walked around the market. as soon as the sky became dark and nobody in the market with you, you started panicking, and become cold. jisung comes back to the village with a bag in his hand and the neighborhood women comes to tell him that they lost you in the market.

jisung rushes over to the market, noticing that it was full of darkness. he takes out one of the scented candles he had bought for you earlier and lit it up, putting the candle over his head.

looking up, you see a candle in the air. walking towards it, you see jisungs back. “j-jisung?” you whispered. jisung turns his back and feels relieved. jisung quickly wraps his arms around you as you sobbed into his chest.

“thank you for saving me”

additional ending:

in switzerland, you were about to jump off a cable bridge after the doctor told you to go sight seeing before you really wanted to end your life. ending the voice message to send to your family, a guy looked at you, who was supposedly named jisung.

yiseo, who followed him to switzerland, wanted to take a picture of her and jisung. jisung asks you if you could take it for them, wanting you to get off the bridge before you finally do it.

“he could do better” you mumbled as you you snapped their picture. after the picture was taken, yiseo thanked you. you smiled and walked away as jisung watched you, wanting to tell you that everything will be okay.

END <3

#stray kids #jisung angst #jisung fluff #han jisung angst #han jisung fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz angst #skz fluff #skz #jyp stray kids #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop #Crash Landing On You #stray kids smut #skz smut

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dbssh · 4 years ago

Note

🌼pick a random oc surprise me

Write a short drabble from your OCs POV meeting their Love Interest.

😳😳😳😳 ok i havent written in. a while tm and im very much not happy with this but! ive been obsessively working on it for the past two days so i think its time to just Stop and hit post.

Aja had been hiding out in the woods. It was isolated enough to be safe, but still within walking distance of the nearest town. She’d made it her home for the past few weeks, taking a break from travelling for the moment. Winter was coming soon. There wasn’t any snow on the ground, yet, but there was less and less readily-available food. That wasn’t usually a problem for her, but recently it was. There was a stray dog, a big black mutt with short hair and a long face, that had been sticking around her camp since she’d come here. It was a sad, skinny thing, and she always made sure it had something to eat. But today had been particularly cold, a bitter wind and dark clouds on the horizon, and by the time the sun went down, she had nothing.

The dog nuzzled into her hip as she stood at the edge of the treeline, looking out at the small town not too far away. She took a deep breath, slung her bag over her shoulder, and started walking. The dog followed.

She slowed down as they neared a fence, the backside of a house. All the lights were out, as they should be at this hour. She stepped around to the other side of the house and found her prize, two metal garbage cans. She made a shushing motion at the dog, before she quietly removed the lid and started digging.

It didn’t take long to find enough scraps of meat and discarded food for the dog to be satisfied, which she was grateful for. She didn’t want to dig around in garbage any more than she had to, especially when she had no idea when she’d be able to clean herself properly. She sat with the dog while it chewed on the bone from a ham, stroking its matted fur. For a moment it was almost peaceful.

The peace was short-lived, interrupted by a loud clanging as something else disturbed the trash cans, something far less concerned with stealth than Aja had been. She stood and stepped over, looking into the can. It was a raccoon, filthy and hardly more than skin-and-bones.

“Get out of here,” she whispered at it, shooing it away. She felt awful for the poor thing, but with the noise it was making, it was putting them both in danger. “Get your own, we’ve already got this one.” It didn’t seem to understand her, and all it did was dig further into the garbage, making an awful noise as it’s paws clanged against the metal. She was panicking, knowing the noise would wake someone up soon if it hadn’t already, and she grabbed at the raccoon, trying to pull it out as it hissed and screamed, scratching at her hands, the dog barking at it as it did.

The door to the house slammed open, and an older man walked out, holding a shotgun and murmuring about the god-damned vermin. He stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw her, and she froze as she saw him, dropping the raccoon to the ground.

“What the hell?” he said. Aja took a moment to consider her options, looking from the old man to the gun in his hands, to the street behind him. While he was still sitting there, dumb-struck, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at, Aja took a deep breath, and broke into a sprint, pushing past him and into the street. She didn’t know where she was running or where she intended to go, but she couldn’t stay here.

The old man swore as she bolted, running into the street and firing a few shots. Lucky for her the old man was a lousy shot, and in the dark of the night he missed. The noise roused the other houses on the street, lights clicking on in the windows as people woke.

She didn’t know what to do. She kept running.

---

Parked in an alleyway was a mint-blue pickup truck, with more than a few dents and scratches along the sides and a crack in the windshield. Sleeping in the driver's seat was Hutch. Or at least, they were sleeping, until gunshots rang out through the night and they jumped awake, scrambling to shove their keys into the ignition. They had no fucking clue what was happening, and they weren’t going to stick around to find out.

As the headlights blinked to life, they caught a figure. She froze in the bright white light, staring directly at them like a deer crossing the road. She was panicked, and tall, really fucking tall, with wild dark hair and all-black clothes complete with a cape that draped over her shoulders. She looked terrified.

Within a moment she’d snapped out of it and kept running. Hutch leaned out the window and called out after her, trying to get her to wait, but she didn’t stop. Fuck.

They started the engine and pulled the stupid truck out of the alley as fast as it would go.

---

If Aja had panicked when the headlights had turned on, she was fucking terrified when the truck actually started following her. She had no idea what was about to happen, but even she couldn’t outrun a car. So when it pulled in front of her and stopped abruptly, she stopped too, ready to face whatever was about to happen.

She was speechless when the passenger door popped open, and the driver looked up at her, smiled, and said:

“Need a ride?”

“Pardon?”

“I heard the shots. If they have anything to do with you, you probably wanna get the hell out of this place before they start forming a good-ol’ fashioned angry mob,” they paused, still with a cocky grin on their face. “I have a car, if you haven’t noticed, but we gotta get moving. Do you want in or not?”

She paused, deliberating. She could keep going, alone. She’d survive, and she’d find her own way out, and it would be fine. She didn’t need this person. On the other hand… she hadn’t had a real conversation in years. And here someone was, talking to her like a peer, not even flinching as they looked at her.

Noise of shouting townsfolk echoed down the street.

“Last chance,” they said, starting to look worried. “If you aren’t getting out of here, I am.”

She took a deep breath, and got in the car.

---

They drove until morning, mostly silent. There had been some one-sided conversation at first, Hutch asking questions and Aja giving one-word answers, but they’d stopped trying at some point. The radio droned quietly, some country song on the radio, Hutch tapping their fingers on the wheel and muttering the words.

In the morning sun, she was able to get a better look at them. They were short, with tanned brown skin and a number of scars across their face and arms. Their hair was blond, pink at the tips, looking as though it had just begun to grow out of a neat cut. Their face seemed to be in an almost-permanent grin, their silver eyes twinkling with a mischievous energy.

And looking closer at them, it became obvious that they weren’t human, at least not entirely. Their ears were pointed and animal-like, flicking about like a cat. Their fingertips had short black claws, and tucked around their waist was a thin, wiry tail that looked almost like that of a mouse or a lion, with a tuft of fur the same pink-golden colour as their hair at it’s tip.

She must have looked for just a moment too long, because they turned to look at her with another stupid grin, and they winked.

Her face felt hot as she quickly turned away, staring at the window as they laughed.

“I’m just messin’ with you, you’re fine,” they said.

“Why did you help me?” she asked, changing the topic.

“I dunno,” they shrugged. “You just looked like you needed help, is all. Anyone would’ve done it.” Their voice was thick with a southern accent.

“Nobody else did. Nobody else has ever done what you did.” She paused. “Not for me, anyways.”

“Anyone decent, I should say,” they laughed. “Those people? Not decent. Towns like that never are. Don’t really know how to treat anyone different.”

“I suppose so. Still. Thank you.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you…” she trailed off, not really sure how to finish that. They looked her over for a minute, their silver eyes shining.

“Y’know what? There is something.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t certain, but she didn’t think people usually actually took someone up on an offer like that.

“Sure!” they laughed. “Just stay with me a little while. It gets lonely out here all by myself. Whenever you’re ready to leave, you can go, I ain’t gonna stop you. Just thought it might be nice for both of us to have some good company for a change.” That… didn’t sound too bad. She wasn’t really sure why, but she trusted them. Besides, even if they did try something, she was fairly sure she could take care of it. And they were right, after all. She was lonely. Incredibly, painfully lonely, in a way she had to force herself not to think about.

“Okay,” she said, after a pause.

#oc talk #ALSO. its aja and hutch because im predictable sorry #ive not felt super like myself the past few days and i think it shows because the vibes? the writing style? all over the place #also this is probably the 4th different scenario ive tried for their meeting. i dont love it but it works better than what i had before so #progress #also. is it obvious enough yet that i dont know how to do endings? i just kinda leave it lmao i dont know how to end something in a Good Way #oc: aja #oc: hutch #asks #demondiice

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msjr0119 · 5 years ago

Text

Hold On

Part 22 - Punishment and Surprises

Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.

Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.

Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.

Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do, you are consenting that you are over the age.

Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut 🍋. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @drakesensworld @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97 @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415

THIS CHAPTER GOES BACK IN TIME 8 MONTHS PRIOR TO THE ENDING IN THE LAST CHAPTER.... BEFORE HANA AND DRAKES WEDDING

******

The day after Riley was discharged from hospital, Liam took it upon himself to move her into his Chambers. He was taking no risk. There was still no sign of Kiara.

Riley couldn’t help but roam her fingers along the scar that Kiara had now permanently tattooed on her back. Liam noticed and looked at her concerned. He bent down and placed soft kisses along the raw wound.

“We will find her, don’t worry love.” Liam reassured, pulling Riley into a tight embrace.

“I hope so. She needs to see a shrink Liam. She’s not well...”

Riley was concerned about Kiara’s state of mind. She didn’t want to see anyone going through that, even though the woman nearly ended her life. She snuggled into Liam’s soft embrace, grateful that she was still alive and able to live her life with him by her side.

****

Two months after the fatal night, the guards had a tip-off about a sighting of Kiara, and immediately informed the King. Liam persuaded them not to inform Riley or Drake incase it wasn’t her.

“Sir, it’s her. We have restrained her and she is in the cell if you want to visit her.”

Liam dropped all the paperwork, making it scatter on his desk. He wasn’t usually messy, but he didn’t care. He needed answers.

“Kiara!”

“Your majesty.” Kiara knew that she had been uncovered and contemplated how she was going to get out of this mess.

“You potentially nearly killed my best friend and the future Queen of your country. Do you have anything to say.” Liam now furious scolding the woman. His baby blues fixated on the woman’s dark eyes.

“N-no. I’m sorry Liam.”

“Jesus Kiara! Sorry isn’t going to help the matter! Do you know how much hurt you have caused? They nearly died!”

Frustration had taken over. Liam couldn’t hold his breath- she is not the sweet intelligent woman they all once knew. Kiara was sat in her own oblivion not showing any empathy for her actions. She had been on the run, and had assumed that it would all die down knowing that her two victims had survived.

“Kiara answer your King now!”

“I can’t, I’m sorry your Majesty.”

Leo entered the room, looking disgusted at the woman who didn’t give a shit about anyone but herself. If looks could kill the the multilingual would be buried six feet under.

“Your majesty, I believe the correct punishment would be death.” Leo stated and advised, without hesitation.

“No please I’m so sorry. I’d do anything but please not that. I’m the heir to my duchy!”

Liam looked at her. Riley didn’t want her die- ever since Riley had returned from hospital, she had insisted that she needed help for her mental state of mind. Pinching the bridge his nose, Liam had to make a decision quickly before the council became involved.

“Kiara, you are longer an heir to any duchy. I am revoking your title- and you shall spend the rest of your life in jail. And with guidance you will have to obtain sessions with a psychiatrist. If you refuse these sessions- I will have no choice but to change your punishment. Do you understand?”

“No! I need to go home! I didn’t mean it!”

“Get used to these cold four walls, Kiara. This is your home now. Goodbye!”

Liam stormed out of the room, allowing the door to slam. He had let her off big time, and was grateful to never have the need to see her again.

*******

Riley had been feeling nauseous all morning, her head spent most of it surrounded by the toilet rim. Before Liam went for his morning meetings, she covered the fact up that she wasn’t feeling 100%- she didn’t want him to worry about her. It was probably - most likely just a bug.

Standing up and brushing her teeth, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her normal complexion was paler than usual. Her hand lingered over her stomach- no I can’t be?

Rushing to her phone, she went through her calendar. The maths weren’t adding up in her sheer state of panic. No, I’ve missed my period because of all the stress- that’s a logical reason. Her period was always like clockwork- the same day every month.

Rushing down the hallway, she needed some friendly advise from her best friend. Barging through Hana’s door, not using the usual polite gesture of knocking, due to panic she regretted it instantly.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry.... Drake cover yourself up! You too Hana!”

“Brooks it’s not what it looks like.”

“Don’t kid a kidder Drake, I’ve known you two have been hiding something... why?”

“Riley, I’m so sorry. We didn’t want to tell you this way.”

“Why though? I hope it wasn’t because of me. Are you two - you know?”

“Yes...” Drake said regretfully gazing down towards the wooden floor- they were going to tell Riley eventually.

Riley couldn’t contain her emotions. The biggest smile she could provide, formed on her face much to her friends confusion.

“I’m so happy for you both. But...Drake I really need you to give me five minutes with Hana- women’s problems. She’s all yours after- I promise.”

Drake’s eyes widened, he had a feeling what they were referring to- bitching about men. He didn’t want to be involved in that. He kissed Hana on the cheek and swiftly exited the room, Hana was now a bright shade of red.

“Ri, I’m sorry. We should have told you.” Riley pulled her friend in for a hug, cupping her cheek- providing a soft smile.

“Don’t be- I knew...Hana, I’m in deep shit! I’m late.”

“WHAT?” Hana exclaimed. Riley knew they weren’t being careful and never used protection which was negligent. So it wouldn’t be much of a shock if a test proved she was in fact pregnant.

“Liam won’t let me out of his sight, i know he’s only being protective but I need a test... like as soon as possible. The suspense is killing me.”

“Max is in town- do you want me to ask him to pick you one up?”

Riley nodded, thank god for Hana knowing what her friends ‘schedules’ were- she really hoped Maxwell would do this favour for her- after all he is like a brother to her and would be the Uncle to the baby.

Maxwell turned up an hour later, looking a bit flustered. Riley had been pacing the room- her fingernails were none existent. Hana tried for the last hour to reassure her that everything will be fine.

“Hana I got your test... Little blossom, what are you doing here?”

“Er Max, it’s not for me.” Hana explained, not expecting Maxwell to believe that it was for her- she was in a ‘secret’ relationship unlike Riley.

“Blossom?” Maxwell now had an inkling that the test could potentially be for Riley if it wasn’t for Hana.

“It’s for me, Max. Thank you.”

“Well I was embarrassed picking it up, why didn’t you tell me Ri?” Maxwell began exaggerating the pet lip expression, attempting to make Riley feel slightly guilty. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t call him first- they were usually like glue, always together, telling each other secrets.

“I’ve just realised I’m late- I thought it was due to the stress.”

Riley snatched the test, the two minutes seemed to take forever. She couldn’t read the result- didn’t want to get her hopes up. Her body was shaking to the dozen- was this her second chance at being a mom?

“Blossom?”

“Yeah...”

“Erm... looks like Cordonia is going to have an heir...IM GOING TO BE AN UNCLE!”

“Max find Liam, and send him to my room ASAP. Please.”

Riley did the two other tests that Maxwell had bought- just to triple check, incase it was potentially a false positive. Three positive tests appeared in her hand. Positive 2-3 weeks. Would Liam be happy? Would he be shocked? She didn’t know but she knew she had to disturb him from his busy schedule.

****

Maxwell walked to Liam’s study, he knew he had to keep his big mouth shut. He was ‘pumped up’ for his sister and couldn’t wait to celebrate. Taking a deep breath whilst knocking he knew he had to keep a composed expression before blowing the secret.

“Li?”

“Hello, Maxwell. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Blossom would like to see you.” Maxwell became fidgety, began twiddling his fingers, hoping Liam wouldn’t notice.

“Is it important? I’m really busy...”

“Mega important.... Erm... she’s not feeling well.”

Maxwell told a white lie. Technically she was sick all morning- so that counts as not being well, right? Liam abandoned his paperwork and rushed straight to Riley.

“Ri? Is everything okay?” Panicked, he knew he should have had someone keep her company. He was just too worried after all that she had been through.

“I need to tell you something... in fact show you something...follow me.” Riley intertwined her fingers with Liam’s, she could tell he was tense.

“Why are we in the bathroom? Is everything okay?” The confusion in his eyes, made Riley wish she had just blurted their news out. She began to panic, hoping he wouldn’t reject her or the baby.

“This morning, I’ve spent the majority of the time in here. I went to see Hana- by the way her and Drake are in a relationship. Did you know? I knew something was going off. I’m so happy for them...”

“Don’t change the subject Riley. I’m really busy.”

Riley grabbed Liam’s hand and let it hover over her stomach. Liam was puzzled, he wondered if she was in pain due to the stab wound and that the pain was spreading around her body. Taking a deep breath- she handed him the three pregnancy tests each with two lines.

“I... I’m pregnant.”

Liam stood frozen, not able to comprehend the news.

“Li, say something...please...”

“You’re pregnant... we are having a baby?” Disbelieving what he was holding in his hands. It was like he was dreaming.

“Yeah.”

Liam picked Riley up, she wrapped her legs around him. They stayed in that position for a while. He couldn’t stop kissing his baby’s mom. Finally he let her down, and just held her -the smile on his face would never be erased. Today was not the day to inform her about Kiara.

“You’ve made my life complete Riley. I’m cancelling my meetings. I want to spend time with you and this little one.”

Riley insisted that Liam attended his meetings, they would still be there when he returned. His hands roamed across Riley’s stomach- he was still in a state of shock. Heading to his meetings he was on cloud nine and had hoped that he would be able to concentrate. Bastien had noticed that his Kings attitude had changed throughout the day, it started with anger, then he was lethargic, to now being ecstatic.

“Sir? Is everything alright? You’re attitude today has been up and down like a yo-yo. If you need a rest I’m sure people will understand.”

Liam couldn’t hold in their secret anymore, he wanted to blurt it out to the whole kingdom. Hugging Bastien was an unprofessional gesture, but he didn’t care.

“Bast, I’m going to be a father... Riley... she’s.. she pregnant. I’m going to be a father...”

“That’s fantastic news, Sir. I’m thrilled for you both. But....”

Liam pulled the ring box out of his pocket, smirking at his guard- he knew exactly what Bastien was thinking.

“Bast, I know. I need to make her Queen to make it legit. Since she came back in my life, I’ve kept my mothers ring close to me at all times. I’ve been waiting for the right moment, can you help me with something?”

“Anything Sir, anything to make you and Lady Riley happy...”

#theroyalromance #choices trr #riley brooks #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #hanalee #kingliam #liam x riley #liam x mc #trr kiara #trr leo #trr liam

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sunyoonandstars · 7 years ago

Text

In Between (BTS series) || Chapter 1

This one is based on a request made by the lovely @im-cxnfused. I hope it manages to meet your expectations! 💜

I got very inspired by this request, so it actually turned into a series which I’ll try to update as frequently as possible.

This is Chapter 1 of the (currently) ongoing series formerly known as “BTS Imagine 5: Namjoon cheating on you & you getting revenge”

I hope you all manage to find the series and its remaining chapters despite the change of name!🙏🏻

Thank you for reading 💜 and sticking to this series! It’s much appreciated! Also, feedback is always welcome, in case you didn’t know.

Enjoy!

******************************************************

Chapter Index - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.1, 9.2

Synopsis

You and Namjoon are in a committed relationship. Or so you had thought. When you catch him cheating, however, you decide to take revenge in a way equally brutal. But soon the events take an unforeseen turn, leaving you torn …

Pairing: You x Namjoon, You x Jimin

angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, occasional hints of smut

******************************************************

Chapter 1 || Red Converses

You had tried calling Namjoon several times today already, your calls always going straight to voicemail, and your numerous texts, too, had remained unread, not even being delivered. He must’ve turned his phone off, probably to focus on his work, you figured, knowing that he’d been planning on locking himself up in his studio today to finally get some songwriting done after having been stricken with creative block for weeks in a row now. However, you spontaneously decided to leave town for a couple of days, to spend some quality time by the sea with an old friend of yours who is visiting from China, so you wanted to at least let Namjoon know and say your goodbyes before taking off. What you hadn't expected, however, when you had made up your mind to drop by his studio and surprise him, is that you would find the door to it unlocked. And to be faced with the scene right in front of you now. A smile still frozen on your lips, eyes burning, unable to breathe, merely a soundless gasp escaping your lips, you remain standing in the doorway to Namjoon’s studio, paralyzed by shock, feeling your heart being crushed by your chest caving in on itself under the weight of what you see. In disbelief, refusing to trust your own eyes, you blink them. Once. Twice. A dozen times. However, finally, you can’t help but accept that the image painfully etching itself into your memory this instant is indeed real. There is another woman with him. With Namjoon. Your Namjoon. She’s sitting on his lap, facing him, her legs twined around his waist, her slender arms wrapped around his neck, while Namjoon’s big, strong hands - the hands that used to touch only you in such a way - are buried in her long, dark hair. You can hear both of them breathing heavily even from where you stand. And your ears ache with the sound of their lips passionately interlocking. No. No way. This can’t be real. It can't be. Slowly, silently, your knees weak, you take an uncertain step backward, then another, into the empty hallway, closing the door behind you without making a sound, your eyes still wide with horror. There you stay, standing in the middle of the dark corridor, your whole body trembling, hands shaking uncontrollably. Breathe. You have to breathe, Y/N, you remind yourself. But your entire world has just been ripped apart in a matter of seconds, so your body obviously sees no sense in maintaining its basic functions. You can’t even feel its need for oxygen anymore, the expectable burning of your lungs simply missing, not to be sensed. You don’t feel anything right now, not even real anymore. All you can feel is the ground falling away beneath your feet, a dizzy spell threatening to overtake you, your head pounding while your brain desperately tries to process the meaning of what you just witnessed. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. Namjoon would never — But he did. You feel nausea building up in your cramping stomach. You have to get out of here. As far away from him, from them, as you can get. Right now. Cruelly slowly making your way to the exit, breathing heavily, your limbs numb, supporting yourself against the wall, you call your best friend without even giving it a second thought, your fingers operating your phone almost automatically. He picks up immediately. „Jimin-ah, I’m feeling sick“, you barely manage to get out the words, doing your best to hold back a sob. „Can you please come an pick me up?“

„Of course, Y/N!“ You can clearly hear the genuine worry resonating in his soft, familiar voice, the mere sound of it already being of comfort to you. „What happened? Where are you?“ „I’m in front of the studio.“ „But … isn't Namjoon there?“ „He’s busy.“ „Okay …“ Jimin unmistakably hesitates, however, you’re infinitely grateful he seems to have decided not dig any deeper for the moment. „I’m already on my way, Y/N. Hold on! I’ll be right there!“ „Thank you, Jimin-ah.“ You hang up and force yourself to keep going, finally making it outside, shakily inhaling the fresh air, taking one hand to your face in order to shield it against the bright daylight hurting your teary eyes. s. The fucking red Converse’s you were only wearing for him. Because you know Namjoon liked them on you the day you first met. Because he wouldn't stop telling you how he couldn't get enough of you in them.As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, your trembling legs ultimately give out, leading you to stumble and almost fall down the few stairs and to the ground. You barely manage to steady yourself, your free hand firmly gripping the banister next to you, your gaze, directed downwards, involuntarily settling on your shoes. Red Converses. The fucking red Converses you were only wearing for him. Because you know Namjoon liked them on you the day you first met. Because he wouldn't stop telling you how he couldn't get enough of you in them. Suddenly you realize: These aren’t even your shoes your looking down on right now. They are his, just like you believed you were. But they are a lie now. Everything was a lie. Every last one of the sweet nothings he used to whisper to you. Everything. Was. A lie. The abrupt awareness of this harsh truth lets the nausea boil up in you once again, more forcefully this time. Panting, you stagger into a narrow alley, tears streaming down your face while you empty your convulsing stomach onto the sidewalk. You can’t stop vomiting, not even to catch your breath. It’s almost like your body wants to get them all out. All those feelings left for Namjoon. For the man who promised to always protect and never hurt you, to stay true to you and by your side for better or for worse. Who knew how you’d been hurt before and swore you could trust him, to always love you. Always. How ridiculous. The word itself. Preposterous. Nobody can love anyone always or forever. There is no always, no forever. Our time on this planet is limited. And so is our capacity to love another person, it seems. Never had you imagined, though, that Namjoon of all people would betray you like this, that he was even capable of cheating. You’d always believed him to be a mature, honest man. However, people can change, you remind yourself, and obviously never seize to surprise. You just can’t help but wonder what it was that pushed Namjoon over the edge. Was it you? Did you lack something? Did you do something wrong? Didn’t you do your best as the woman by his side? Didn’t you satisfy his needs? Didn't you wait for him patiently, whenever he couldn't make time for you? Didn't you go along with his busy schedule as an idol without ever complaining? Didn't you?

When Jimin arrives, he finds you pacing up and down the pavement in front of the Big Hit building, nervously running your hands through your hair, a frighteningly restless, frantic expression in your eyes, your face white as a sheet, your breathing flat and its rhythm far too rapid. Immediately, he hurries to your side, taking you by the shoulders to stop you in your step. „Hey, Y/N! Calm down! It’s alright. I’m here now. I’m here.“ Torn from your desperately spinning thoughts by the welcome sound of his well-known voice you look up at Jimin, only now made aware of his presence. You don’t even try to resist when he pulls you in for a tight, comforting hug. „You came“, you whisper into his shirt, a single tear of relief making its way down your cheek and seeping into the soft fabric of his sweater. „Of course, I came, Y/N. Now, let’s go. Let’s go home.“ „Not to the dorm!“, you call out, unintentionally raising your voice, pulling away from his embrace. Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise at your unexpectedly strong reaction, he merely nods, reassuring you with a sweet smile. „Alright, Y/N. I’ll drop you off at your apartment then, or wherever you want. I don’t mind where we go. All that matters is that you’re comfortable. Okay?“ „Thank you. But my apartment is perfectly fine.“ „Good“, he smiles at you, his smooth, soothing voice already having a noticeable calming effect on you. „Let’s go then. The cab is waiting just around the corner.“ Gently, he takes you by the elbow and leads you towards the vehicle, proceeding to place you in the backseat and to sit down right next to you, never once letting go of your arm. „Sit back and relax, Y/N“, he tells you, and you gladly comply, closing your eyes while listening to Jimin giving directions to the driver in a low voice and politely asking him to turn down the music, probably afraid your rest would be disturbed otherwise. How can he still be so sweet and caring towards me?, you can’t help but wonder. After what you’d put him through all those years ago. His kindness and forgiveness will most likely forever remain an enigma to you. For now, however, you push aside all thoughts of your shared past and decide to enjoy Jimin’s comfort, settling into the hug he offers once again, leaning your head on his shoulder. „Y/N?“, he cautiously speaks up after few minutes of welcome silence. „Hmm-hmm“, you simply hum in response, unable to muster the strength necessary to open your eyes and look up at him. „I was just wondering … Are you ‚sick‘ sick, or was this another one of your panic attacks?“ You can feel your heart twist in your chest. It’s not ready yet for this kind of talk. „Don’t know“, you reply, keeping it short to hide the shaking of your voice. „You wanna talk about it?“ „No.“ Jimin just nods silently, gently pulling your head closer to his chest, apparently having noticed your muscles tensing up in reaction to his questions. In a slow, tranquilizing rhythm he starts caressing your hair, one arm around your shoulder until he suddenly stops. You can feel his head shoot up. „Yah, Y/N, why aren’t you wearing any shoes!?“ „I puked on them“, you truthfully reply, leaving out unnecessarily painful details. „Should I go back and get them? I could go back after I drop you off and leave them with our dry cleaners. They'll look as good as new once they’re done with them.“ „Don’t bother.“ „But … weren’t they your favorites? Your red Converse Highs? You wear them all the time. They’re basically the only flats you own.“ „Yeah“, you sigh. „But … don’t you love those worn out things? Aren’t they like special to you and Namjoon?“, Jimin keeps asking, sounding increasingly confused, astonished by your indifference. „Forget about it. They’re ruined.“ Your cold, resolute tone keeps him from making any further inquiries. He knows you. He has known you for years, probably better than you know yourself, maybe even better than Namjoon does. He knows your boundaries, and he knows very well not to push them. So Jimin simply decides to offer you his wordless consolation, for now, even unaware of what troubles your heart, stroking your back, his fingers circling across the thin fabric of your shirt, tracing calming shapes and lines on your covered skin. When you finally arrive at your destination he helps you out of the car, your knees still weak, and slowly, with you leaning onto his shoulder, leads you upstairs and inside your small, humble flat. You don’t even need to give him the access code to the front door. Jimin’s fingers still remember the sequence of numbers you’d written down for him over three years ago. „I can take it from here“, you say without looking him in the eye, the two of you still standing in the doorway. „No way, Y/N. I’m not leaving you in this state. I haven’t seen you this shaken up since —“, he pauses, his voice cracking, the silence building up, filling the room in between the two of you, quickly becoming unbearable, smothering. He shoots you a quick inquiring glance, but you try hard not to show any reaction. „Well —“ Jimin clears his throat. You can see his cheeks blushing from the corner of your eye. „I haven't seen you this shaken up in years. I have no idea what happened to get you into this state, and I won’t pry. If you’re ready to tell me, feel free to. You know I’m always there for you, willing to listen. Until then I won’t bother you with any further awkward questions. I just want you to rest and get better, to take care of you as a friend, that’s all. Will you let me?“ Weakly, you nod, signaling him with a gesture of your hand to follow you inside. Jimin gives you a faint smile, his eyes still searching yours for any kind of clue as to what might have stirred you up like this. You simply avert your gaze, however, don’t resist when he takes you by both your shoulders, gently pushing you towards your bedroom. „Now change into something comfortable and lie down. I’ll make you your favorite tea. It’s still that weird blend, cocoa bean, and licorice, right?“ You can’t help but grin. „Yeah, that’s the one.“ His face lights up at your response. „Good. I’ll be right back, Y/N. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.“ You nod, still grinning to yourself, even after Jimin has left and closed the door behind him. He’s too good to you. A fact you are painfully made aware of once again as your eyes casually sweep over a framed photograph while you get undressed. The picture, placed on your bookshelf, hidden behind a vase, shows Jimin and you, your arm thrown around his neck and his around your waist while you give him a peck on the cheek, your faces beaming in naive happiness. That was another me and another him. Ages ago. Those two people don’t exist anymore, you quickly remind yourself, detaching your gaze from the photograph. As you nestle to your comfortable pillow, however, you are faced with another picture, another memory, sending a sudden, piercing pain through your entire body, originating from your chest, your aching heart. It’s a Polaroid, of you and Namjoon, taken on your birthday in the first year you spent together as an official couple. It was taken by Taehyung, if you remember correctly. He was a little embarrassed by the scene in front of him, taunting you, taking the photo only to show the two of you how disgustingly rampant you were even in public. However, the both of you ended up loving it, the polaroid showing you entangled in each other, you sitting on Namjoons hips, one of his hands placed on your bottom, the other one buried in your hair, your lips locked in a deep, passionate kiss. He’d never been afraid of public display of affection once the two of you had made it official, meaning not only making officially known that you were dating, but that you were deeply, madly in love with each other. Were. Were. What a hurtful little word. You close your eyes and bury your head in your pillows, unable to stand to look at the image for even one more second. However, it keeps haunting you, showing up in your feverish dreams as you sink into a shallow, restless sleep...

To be continued ...

NEXT CHAPTER ⏭

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Hope you enjoyed it so far! Stay tuned for more!

Thanks for reading and making such awesome requests!!! 🙏🏻🙃💜 Take care!

And, if you like, check out my Masterlist for the remaining chapters and some more BTS fiction!

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kitstwistfellau · 6 years ago

Text

Sins of the Past, final

Read on AO3 HERE.

Summary: A bittersweet reunion.

Warnings (contain spoilers): LV issues, off-screen violence and death, issues of self-worth, oblique references to rape, references to poisoning, references to regicide. Explicit--not non-graphic--mention of very serious, debilitating illness/poisoning.

The door opened, and Sans stared at the other skeleton. His brother, but so changed. The right side of his face was shattered, the socket cracked and his eyelight dead. “…Papy?” he asked, not wanting to believe that this was his brother. What had she done to him? What happened, after Sans was ushered out and sold off? “Is that…is that really you?” The stranger in his brother’s bones smiled broadly, and Sans’ soul clenched as tears gathered in his sockets. “Papy!” he said, certain now.

Papyrus knuckled the top of his head, but his eyelight remained fixed on Undyne. “Ya really brought ‘im, then?” he said, something like wonder in his voice, “I thought…I thought it was a trap. But ya really….” He stopped speaking and coughed, stepping aside so Sans could come in out of the cold. “Not you, fish,” he said, holding up a hand to ward her off. “I ain’t ‘bout ta let the captain ‘a the guard inta my house. Here’s what ya came fer.” He reached into his inventory and pulled out a thick file folder. “Everythin’ I know ‘bout the Spider Gang. Now get the fuck outta my town.”

She took the file. “Don’t get uppity, squirt. After I roust the Spider, I’m coming after your boney ass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving her off, “ ‘m shakin’ in my boots, sweetheart.”

She flipped him off but left without protest. Sans watched her go, briefly wanting to run after her. She’d been one of his only friends in the castle, after all. But…his gaze fell on the folder in her hand. Would she really have delivered him to his brother if Papy hadn’t agreed to share his information with her? Had he, once again, been bought and sold by people he trusted?

Did it really matter? It was the way of their world, after all. This was just the way things were. Had he really expected something better?

His brother ushered him inside, and as soon as the door shut, Papy swept him up into a hug, checking him over as he brought him to the couch. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Sitting down, Papy pulled at his shirt and the cuffs of his pants, studying his tibia, fibia, ribs, and arms for any sign of damage. Then his gaze fell on the collar around his throat. He shifted it, revealing the network of small scars it hid.

“I have the key,” Sans said, voice small and ashamed. With shaking fingers, he reached up to pull it off…but his fingers stuttered and fumbled. Carefully, Papy took over, twisting the key in the lock. The collar opened and he flung it into the corner of the room, again studying the scars around Sans’ neck.

“Oh, Sans….” His voice sounded so soft and mournful.

It was too much. Sans inhaled sharply, chest hitching as he started to sob. Papy gathered him in and rocked him, arms tight and solid and there. Both of them started projecting, a confusing muddle of /JOY/care/LOVE/warmth/AFFECTION/security/strength/stability/. Papy’s projections weren’t as strong as they used to be, though, and Sans Checked him on a hunch.

His LV had shot up by 3. From 12 to 15 in less than a year. Seeing his HP was like getting a punch to his nonexistent gut, however. He was at full health, but the base stat was much lower than it had been when Sans saw him last. Gaining LV should have raised his HP, not lowered it. Which meant his brother…happy, cheerful, hopeful Papyrus…had started to lose HoPe. Sans’ soul ached, and he couldn’t keep silent anymore. “Papy? What happened?” he asked, running fingers over his scarred face. “What did she do to you?”

Papy sighed, pulling Sans’ hand away from his face and folding his fingers around it. “’s not important, bro. ‘m fine. An’ yer back. We’re t’gether again. Tha’s what matters, right? We’re t’gether, an’ we’re safe.”

For the moment, Sans didn’t argue. He buried his face in Papyrus’ chest and allowed himself to be held, still crying in relief, in joy, and out of bone-deep sorrow. Only after he was all cried out did Papy show him around the house. One of the upstairs rooms had been prepared for him. A handmade set of shelves was pushed against one wall, a few books already tucked inside—astronomy books, mostly, but a few looked like puzzle books. The bedframe was handmade as well, stars and moons cut into the headboard. The walls and ceiling had been painted a deep blue, precisely painted constellations arcing across the pseudo-sky.

He sat down heavily and Papyrus sat beside him, both of them looking up at the stars. “Figured since we can’t see the real thing…I could make a substitute fer ya.”

Sans couldn’t say anything. He just stared up at the ‘sky’, soul aching. He suspected that, if he were to check them against the star charts in the astronomy books, they’d be shockingly accurate. Papy could be almost obsessively precise when he had a project, and Sans could easily imagine him working feverishly. Skipping even those brief naps that served as his semi-regular sleep schedule in an attempt to distract himself from everything.

He leaned against Papy, and the larger skeleton threw an arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. They slept in the same room that night. Well. Sans slept. Papy rarely slept a full eight hours, but he was there when Sans fell asleep and he was there when he woke up, taking apart what appeared to be a coffee maker. When Sans sat up and greeted him, he blushed and looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Still ain’t much fer cookin’. Place down the way sells cinnamon bunnies—not half as good as yer skulls, but tha’s ta be expected—and sumtimes I can talk Grillbz inta—“

“I can make breakfast.” He hesitated, and Sans understood. “Papy, this is my home, isn’t it? I’m not a guest. You don’t need to look after me. Not like that, at least.”

A sheepish smile—and it hurt to see that familiar expression on a cracked and broken face; stars it hurt more than Sans could say—touched his mouth, and he chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, yer right. So—whaddaya need?”

“Eggs, milk, butter, sugar, and flour. Maybe a can of soda, if we can scrounge it up.” Soda gave pancakes a nice, fluffy texture that nothing else could quite match.

“Right. I gotta go ta the store. I’ll be back.”

It occurred to Sans that his brother probably hadn’t had a good, home-cooked meal since they’d been separated. Was he thinner? So hard to tell, since they weren’t fleshy monsters. “Can I come too?” Papy wouldn’t be skipping meals or trying to live off whatever he could scavenge again. Not with Sans here.

Papy hesitated, then he thought about it. With a shrug, he stood and said, “Don’ see why not. Ain’t nobody in Snowdin stupid ‘nough ta fuck with ya, not with me ‘round. Get dressed an’ we’ll head out.”

When Sans pointed out that he only had the rather revealing sweet-piece clothing he’d arrived in, Papy smirked and marched over to the closet, throwing it open to reveal a few hoodies and some tennis shoes. There were undershirts and pants in the dresser, as well as socks. “Found what I could fer ya. Later, we can head ta the dump an’ see what we can find. Or we can try ta trade what we got. Up ta you.”

Grateful, Sans ushered him out so he could get dressed, then they both headed out into the snow. Sans looked up at the ceiling, watching the snowflakes flutter down. He held out his hand, catching them. The warmth of the mana in his bones caused the flake to melt in his palm. The way the snow flaked as he kicked it made him smile, and he wondered if they could try out some of those winter activities he’d seen in human videos. Making snowmen. Snowball fights. Snow angels. The possibilities—

He looked up with a smile, ready to babble excitedly, but Papy’s features were sharp and cruel, his ever-present grin manic and nothing but pure threat. Menace radiated from him and the monsters they passed went pale and ducked away as soon as they saw him. They were afraid of him. More so than they had been even in Hotland. Combined with his jump in LV, it painted a disturbing picture.

The reminder of just how brutal their world could be sobered Sans immediately. He knew what it cost, to take hold of a stretch of territory. And what it took to keep it. Papy had called this ‘his’ town, and Sans hadn’t questioned it, hadn’t considered the implications before.

Oh, Papyrus.

He resisted the urge to reach out and take his brother’s hand. In public, at least, such soft displays would not be welcome. It made his soul ache to think of, but he could only steel himself. This was the way of things, wasn’t it? This was how it had to be, right? This was just…the way things were. Hoping for something better would only lead to disappointment.

Bile rose up, but he pushed it aside, following his brother into the general store. The snowbunny behind the counter jumped when she saw him, whiskers twitching. She stepped forward, pushing a rabbit kit behind her back. “Papyrus!” she said, too loud, too high-pitched. “How…?” She cleared her throat, taking a breath. “How can I help you?” she asked, forcing a smile.

Papy planted one arm on the counter, propping his chin on his fist. “Mornin’, darlin’,” he said, grinning. “I ain’t doin’ the shoppin’ taday, matter ‘a fact. ‘s the little guy.” He jerked a thumb at Sans, and the bunny’s nose twitched. “Mind helpin’ ‘im out?”

“Of-of course!” She jumped, coming around the counter to look down at Sans. Her kit tucked himself underneath the counter, hiding. “And what do you need…um….” She froze, realizing that she didn’t know his name.

The whole process made Sans’ soul ache. He glanced at Papy, who was feigning boredom. He knew his brother, though. It had to kill him, playing the bad guy. And…Sans would be expected to fit the role too, wouldn’t he? Or was he supposed to cower before his own brother and play the victim? And exactly how much would that hurt Papy?

It made him sick. The whole thing. His soul roiled and his bones chilled. He tried to speak, tried to fill the role he was assigned…but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed them down and tried again, only to find himself rendered mute.

He couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t. Couldn’t abuse the already beaten-down shopkeeper. Couldn’t treat his brother—his HoPe already damaged, his LV already obscenely high—like he was a bad guy. Maybe Sans really was nothing but a sweet-piece. Maybe he simply wasn’t cut out for life out in the wider world…. But he couldn’t be anything else, anything other. So Sans looked up at the bunny monster and offered up his sunniest smile, even as his soul felt like it was cracking. “My name’s Sans! The Sensational Sans!”

Papy quirked a smile, and Sans’ soul relaxed. “Doncha mean ‘Sansational’, bro?” He giggled, delighted at the pun. He’d been afraid Papyrus would be embarrassed or upset with him. Upset that Sans wasn’t a real monster. That he was nothing but a sweet-piece.

“I suppose so,” Sans agreed, then refocused on the bunny. She looked between the two of them, obviously still nervous and unsure of this whole situation. “What’s your name?”

She glanced at Papyrus, who just raised an expectant brow-bone. She swallowed and, shifting uneasily, said, “Bonny.”

Sans was not bold enough to ask after her kit. He didn’t want to spook her. “What a lovely name!” he said cheerfully, “And—are you the one that makes the cinnamon bunnies?”

Another glance at Papyrus. “I…I do. Yes.”

He giggled. “I like to make cinnamon skulls. We should compare recipes sometime.”

“I…I suppose.” She kept darting glances at Papy as she spoke, afraid he was going to snap at her. “What…what can I help you with, then?”

“Oh, right! I was going to make breakfast, but my brother doesn’t keep a well-stocked pantry. So I’ll be needing some basics for now. Flour, sugar, butter—“ He started listing things off on his fingers, careful to keep his tone cheerful and light. Trying not to be demanding. When Bonny confessed that they were out of butter—there was a shortage, and the capital was starting to impose rations—Sans waved it off as if it didn’t matter. “Vegetable oil should be fine, then,” he said, bright and happy.

She still wasn’t at ease when she rang them up, but she wasn’t as nervous as she had been when they first came in. Her kit was peering at them from behind the counter, and Papy spotted him, saluting with a genuine grin and a wink. Bonny inhaled sharply, but the kit just waved tentatively back. Then Papy’s eyelight caught on the kid’s bandana, and he met Bonny’s eye. “Ya got any ‘a those fer sale?”

Instead of answering, she just plucked the bandana off her kit’s neck and handed it over. Sans frowned, about to protest, but Papy knelt down and tied it around his neck, hiding the scars his collar left behind. He reached up and tugged on it, a familiar gesture. The soft fabric slid over his bones, soothing rather than cutting. It felt like an anchor. A reminder of his freedom. Unable to stop himself, he flung himself into his brother’s arms and held tight, fighting down relieved tears.

Papy returned the hug and met Bonny’s eye again. “Thanks, sweetheart. Won’ ferget this.”

For the first time, she looked at Papyrus with something other than fear. She lifted her chin and nodded once. “You’re welcome,” she said, then looked at Sans. “I’ll send word when I get the next shipment of butter in.”

They left once Sans had control of himself, and as they walked, he looked around again. Watching everyone flinch away from them. Taking in the high palisade that surrounded the town. It hurt his soul, seeing the fear and suspicion in their faces. Maybe that’s why, when he next baked cinnamon skulls, he went out and delivered them to the guards, the snowbunnies, the green fire elemental his brother called ‘Grillbz’, and anyone they passed on the way.

The first time, only Grillbz and Bonny were willing to give the skulls a try, but he made a weekly ritual of it, and soon enough, the others grew more courageous. He started to visit whenever he heard someone was sick or injured, bringing soup and biscuits. In time, he became a rather popular figure in the town, earning smiles and waves when he went out. He ignored the whispering that often followed him. The leers. The jeering and the comments. He was a sweet-piece; what else had he expected?

All the while, Papy insisted on acting as his escort, and in the woods outside Snowdin, he took the time to teach Sans how to defend himself. They talked—once—about gaining LV. While sitting on a rock out in the forest, Papy ate one of the cinnamon skulls to regain the mana he’d lost in a recent scrap. Dust floated in the air around him, but he’d used snow to scrub his hands clean. Sans’ hands were pristine. No need to scrub snow between the phalanges. Papy had made sure of that, and Sans wasn’t sure what to make of it. Didn’t Papy want him to gain LV? To be useful? To be stronger? He didn’t really want his brother to be nothing but a sweet-piece…did he?

“If I gained LOVE,” Sans started, tentative, “I’d be stronger.”

Papy paused, eyeing him. “Would ya?” he asked, picking at the skull.

“My attacks would be stronger,” Sans said, “And my base stats would be higher….”

Papy nodded, still picking at the pastry. “Yeah,” he agreed, jumping off the rock. “But would that make ya stronger?”

“I….” Sans looked up at him, uncertain. “Yes?”

Papy knelt in front of him, scrubbing the top of his skull with sticky fingers. Sans frowned and batted at his hands, earning a grin. Then Papy’s expression sobered. “Yer stats’d be higher, yeah, but you’d be brittle ‘round the edges. Maybe not the first time. Er the third time. Er the tenth. But ‘s an easy slope ta slip down. ‘fore ya know it, feels like everythin’s slipping ‘tween yer fingers, an’ yer not even sure ‘a what ya used ta be. Stats ain’t everythin’, bro. Sure as fuck ain’t the most important thing. Don’ sacrifice the important shit fer a string ‘a numbers. It ain’t worth it.”

Sans looked at him, soul aching all over again. “But you….”

Papy smirked. “Aw, darlin’. Ya really think I give a shit ‘bout stats?” Before Sans could ask why he’d gained so much LV, if not for the stat-boost, Papy scooped up a huge handful of snow and dumped it down the back of his shirt. Screeching, Sans twisted and turned, trying to shake out the snow as it melted against his spine. Papy took off running, and Sans chased after him, screaming.

They didn’t discuss LV after that. There were a lot of things they didn’t discuss. Papy refused to give him a straight answer about his new scars, and Sans was reluctant to talk about his time in the palace, though he knew Papy assumed the worst because of it. They didn’t talk about the days Papy would come home with dust and magic on his hands, knuckles bruised. Or the fearful glances townspeople shot him. And they never talked about the way Papy’s HP would dip and swell by turns, unstable and unsteady.

They didn’t talk about it, but Sans noticed, and he well knew that something had to change. The Underground’s problems were so extensive, though, so far-reaching, and he was nothing but a small skeleton tucked away in an isolated corner of the Underground. Weak. Helpless. Nothing but a sweet-piece.

…but even a sweet-piece could have a few tricks up his sleeve, couldn’t he?

He’d thought it would be more difficult, really. But Papy was happy to help him turn the old shed into a makeshift greenhouse. UV lamps provided plenty of ‘sunlight’. Raised beds made the best use of the limited space. Getting the right seeds was the most difficult part, but Bonny was more than happy to place a few special orders. Papy’s extra-curricular activities provided enough money to grease the necessary palms, and soon enough, Sans had a thriving indoor garden.

Among the tomatoes and carrots and potatoes, he’d planted some of the herbs and flowers the sweet-pieces had taught him about. Lavender and chamomile to help a restless monster find sleep. Echinacea for simple colds. There were other plants, too. All of them with medicinal purposes at a certain dosage. He didn’t limit himself to plants, either. Along the back wall, he grew mushrooms as well. Most of them were edible.

His most important project was confined to the basement, though. He’d talked with Papy about his idea, and while he’d been reluctant at first, he’d caved eventually, agreeing that something needed to change. Thus, the basement transformed into something that looked more like a chemistry lab than anything else. Claviceps purpurea could be cultivated in isolation, he’d been happy to learn, afraid he’d need to find a way to grow a field of rye. It wasn’t easy, though, and the fungus was temperamental at best. Thankfully, once he’d harvested enough, it was much easier to get a message to Undyne, even if Papy wasn’t exactly happy to play messenger.

She sat down to tea in their kitchen, warily eyeing Papy even as he did the same to her. Sans pushed a tray of teacakes toward her, smiling brightly. “Thank you so much for coming, Captain!”

She grunted, still glaring at Papy. “I came because he said you needed me,” she said, finally turning to regard Sans. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Is he treating you well?”

“Yeah. Brought ya ‘ere ‘cause Sans says ‘m abusin’ ‘im. Go fuck yerself—“

“Papy,” Sans chastised, earning an eyeroll and a huff. Clearing his throat, Sans turned back to Undyne. “We’re…well enough. As well as can be expected, at least.”

“Hmph.” She took a sip of her tea, still keeping her eye on Papy. “So? Why am I here?”

“Bro, I c’n talk ta ‘er. Ya don’ need ta be ‘ere. Don’ need ta risk—“

“Papy, it was my idea. My plan. If Undyne feels the need to charge me with treason, then so be it.”

Undyne put the cup down, tea sloshing over the sides. “One of you better start talking right now,” she said, voice low, “or you’re both going to be arrested. You for illegal gambling and smuggling and who the fuck knows what else—“

“You can’t prove shit, fish-bitch.”

“—and you for wasting my time,” she said overtop Papy, pointing to Sans. Papy opened his mouth to retort, but she continued without pause. “So? Who’s gonna explain?” She looked between both of them, and Sans finally pulled out the capped bottle. He pushed it toward her. She eyed it, brow raised.

“You’re familiar with Angel’s Fire?”

“Of course.” The disease came and went Underground, all depending on the state of the wheat harvest. It had grown less common as the monsters grew more experienced with farming underground, but it still cropped up on occasion. Not all monsters were affected, of course. The carnivores, who didn’t eat the contaminated wheat, survived the outbreaks untouched. Skeletons and elemental-types weren’t affected because they didn’t have blood vessels. In fact, only the omnivorous or herbivorous mammals were affected.

So it wouldn’t be that suspicious, if only a single monster were to fall ill. Ergot was not a traditional poison in any case. It was an agent of disease, not murder. Certainly not regicide.

He tapped the vial. “This is the fungus that causes it. Powdered for easy use.”

She looked between him and the vial, shaking her head slowly. “Look, squirt, I don’t know where you’re—“

“You and I both know Prince Asriel would make a better king than his father.”

Undyne went very, very quiet. She took the vial, considering it. “Angel’s Fire, huh?”

“Everyone knows Angel’s Fire is…capricious.” The way it passed over one house, only to devastate another had earned the disease a somewhat supernatural reputation, even after they came to understand how it spread. More than a few monsters would whisper to themselves that the old King had done something to displease the Angel. That the Stars had cursed him. “And the symptoms…?” He raised a brow-bone. “You and I both know he’d be deposed. Fast. If he’s not smart enough to step down himself.”

He watched her, noting her considering look. Hallucinations. Convulsions. The sensation of burning in the extremities. Not to mention the more serious effects—gangrene, vision trouble. Possibly death, though Sans didn’t think it would progress to that. No matter what, though, a monster suffering those symptoms could not rule the Underground. Not as it was. A gentler populace might not take advantage, but as things were….

Sans did take some small satisfaction in the knowledge that Asgore would be a victim of the systemic brutality he’d taken such pains to foster.

“And what do you want me to do with this?” Undyne asked, eyeing them both. “What’s the deal here, huh? I…use this. And—what? What’s in it for you two?”

Papy stepped forward, laying a hand on Sans’ shoulder. “There’s no deal, fish. No price. ‘s a gift. An’ not one either ‘a us expect ya ta repay. Or ta use, if tha’s what you decide.”

Her brow crept higher. “I don’t understand.”

He and Sans shared a look. “We’re jus’ a pair ‘a gutter-rats, sweetheart,” he said, grinning when she bristled at the pet-name. “Politics’re a bit above us, doncha think?”

“So this…?”

“Is for you to decide,” Sans said, shrugging. “Papy’s right. I didn’t even spend a year in the palace. I can see that something’s wrong. Very wrong. And not just in the palace—everywhere. We’re tearing each other apart, and something has to change. It has to. But….” He gestured helplessly. “I don’t know what or how. You be the judge, Captain. You’re strong. Intelligent. Principled. I trust you to know what’s best for us. Take the vial. Do whatever you think is best. It shouldn’t spoil, so you can take your time.”

She looked at the vial and pocketed it. She stirred her tea but had apparently lost her appetite—she didn’t take any of the teacakes and she didn’t drink again. “This meeting…?” she said slowly, as if it was a question.

“Was my first interview for the guard,” Sans said, and she jumped, brow-bone raised.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He beamed at her, demeanor sunny and sweet. “Certainly not, Captain! I am very dedicated to making the Underground a better, safer place! I would be delighted to serve in the guard—if you’d be kind enough to consider my application.”

He passed the application to her, still beaming. She eyed it. Eyed him. Then finally eyed Papy, who just winked. “C’mon, Cap’n. Ya know my bro’d be a good choice. Who better ta keep the riff-raff in line than the Sensation Sans? Sure does a good job ‘round ‘ere, doesn’ he?” Grabbing the application, she shook her head, torn between annoyed, amused, and thoughtful.

After she left, the brothers regarded each other silently. “Think she’ll do it?” Papy asked, and Sans shrugged.

“Don’t know,” he said.

“Think she should?”

Another shrug. He dipped his finger in his tea and used the water to trace patterns on the lacquered wood. “Papy?”

“Yeah, bro?”

“…do you think things can get better? Or is this…is this the best we can hope for?”

To his surprise, his brother’s face split into a wide, genuine grin. “Aw, darlin’. Things ain’t that bad, are they? We got each other. Got a roof overhead. Got plenty ‘a food. Things’re already better’n they were, right?” He scrubbed a hand over Sans’ skull, scratching at his coronal suture. He sat beside him and snatched up a teacake, wiping off the frosting with his finger before popping the cake into his mouth. When Sans just continued to trace patterns on the table, Papy pulled Sans’ chair beside his, draping an arm over his shoulders. “Wha’s on yer mind, little bro?”

He snuggled into Papy’s side, ready to cry. “I…I just. I hate this. I hate feeling so helpless. So small. Like…nothing I do matters.” Like a sweet-piece.

Papy’s brow-bone lifted. “Like nuthin’ ya do matters,” he echoed. Then, wiping off his hands, he drew Sans up and pushed him out of the kitchen. “C’mon. We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

Confused, Sans allowed Papy to guide him out into the snow. They passed a number of monsters as they went. Some of them leered at Sans, earning a vicious glare from Papy. Others waved and stopped for a moment, moving on when they realized Sans wasn’t in the mood to talk. Sans paused when they reached the shop, trying to figure out what Papy was up to. He didn’t protest when Papy brought him inside, though, or when he called out, “Heya! Anybody ‘ere?”

Bonny and Cinnamon—her kit—came in from the stockroom, grinning when they saw Papy and Sans. “Well, hello!” Bonny said, while Cinna ran over to hug Papy’s leg and beg Sans for a treat. “Cinna! Don’t be rude!” she chastised, but she was smiling. Looking at the two skeletons, she asked, “And how can I help you today?”

“Jus’ a social call,” Papy said, “Wan’ed ta know how it’s goin’ ‘round ‘ere. Any gossip fer me?”

A sly look crossed Bonny’s face, and she sidled closer to share what she’d heard. While they talked, Cinna took Sans’ hand and brought him to the box of toys Bonny kept under the counter for him. He was a pretty quiet kit, but he was happy to push his toys into Sans’ arms and tell him all about them. Sitting on the floor, Sans smiled gently, not fully able to understand what the kit was saying but happy to sit and listen, nodding as appropriate. Had Papy brought him here to cheer him up? He supposed talking to the little kit did make him feel somewhat better….

They didn’t stay long, going on to visit the Innkeeper and Grillby. The Librarbian got a visit too, as did the guards. All of them were pleased to see him, even if they glared at Papy or threatened him. Sans supposed it did cheer him up a little, talking to the people he’d gotten to know since his stay in Snowdin. He wasn’t really in the mood to talk, but their smiles did make him feel a bit better.

Finally, as they started for home, Papy asked, “So…still feel like nuthin’ ya do matters?”

Sans blinked, looking up at him. “I…uh? Y…yes?” He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, so he told the truth.

Shaking his head, Papy pushed open their door and brought him back inside. “Sans…think back, yeah? Months ago. Ya remember what it was like ‘round here when ya first arrived?” Slowly, he nodded, and Papy grinned. “Ya made a difference ta them, didn’ ya?”

Sans huffed, impatient. “That doesn’t count.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because—I’m not—I didn’t—I was just nice to them. That’s all.”

Scrubbing the top of his skull, Papy said, “Ya gave ‘em a friendly face. Food they could trust. A kind word. Ya gave ‘em sumthin’ ta believe in. Sumthin’ ta hope fer. ‘s jus’ a bunch ‘a little things, yeah. But they mean more’n ya think, bro. Mean a lot. Ta them…an’ ta me.” Kneeling down, he framed Sans’ face between his hands. “Long as yer ‘round, I’ll always believe things c’n get better.”

The words stunned him. He hadn’t even considered that such small things could mean anything. Chest hitching, he leaned into Papy and started to cry. “I-it’s so hard,” he said, forehead pressing into his brother’s chest. “Why’s it so hard?” Papy ran a soothing hand up and down his spine.

“I know,” he said, holding him close. “Hope hurts,” he said, chin resting on top of his skull, “but ‘s worth it. Promise, sweetheart. ‘S worth it.”

Sans wasn’t sure if he believed him. Not at that moment, at least. He simply allowed his brother to hold him, taking comfort from his solidity and strength. But the next time he went out to deliver cinnamon skulls, he took note of the smiles he received. The thanks. He saw the way the other monsters’ shoulders relaxed, how they invited him to stay and talk. Others still called him ‘sweet-piece’ as they passed, and Papy’s fierce glares wouldn’t ever quiet them. Sans chose to block it out, clinging to those little signs.

He wasn’t sure how to react when Undyne sent a messenger, ordering him to report for guard training. They’d only meant for that to serve as a ruse. A cover story. But it was nice, spending time with her. Sparring. Cooking. And talking about ways the Underground could change. Could be better. Could be different.

But his first real glimmer of hope came when—months later—King Asgore stepped down and allowed his son to take the throne. There was no mention of illness or Angel’s Fire. And when Sans next visited Undyne, he didn’t ask. But he accepted the stack of posters she passed him—slogans like ‘Spread love, not LOVE’ printed on bright backgrounds—with a smile.

“Your first order as an official guard-in-training,” she said, “is to post these around Snowdin. Think you can handle it?”

He saluted swiftly. “Absolutely, Captain!”

For the first time in a long time, Sans actually had hope that things could change for the better.

#sins of the past #twistfell #twist sans POV #twist papyrus #twist undyne #twist asgore

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fa-ee-blog · 7 years ago

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i had an incredibly disturbing nightmare last night and it stuck with me all morning, and id all but forgotten it until a few minutes ago, imma just stick it under a cut because No One Wants To Hear This Trust Me. and if someone DOES read it, tw for gore and violence. also ive been in a major creative slump lately so the way ive written this is a little... involved? it reads almost like a short story but id like to make it clear that i in no way enjoyed this dream or writing it and it literally makes me feel sick and i woke up crying because of it and i know how mean y’all can be so just... dont

ok so i dont remember the whole thing but like, i lived somewhere that had a backyard, except it was covered over and though only two sides had walls, it was built up against a cliff face so really only one side was open and the trees there were so thick you couldnt walk through. there were heavy padlocks on the door, but i had a key. i had the key on a chain tied around my hips, under my clothes. no one could ever get at the key, no matter what. no one could ever get in, no matter what. it was so massive so that when you stood at the top, near the trees, you could barely see whoever stood down the slope. it sort of narrowed out towards the bottom, and there was a small shed down there. it was dark, all the time. so, so dark. there was a girl down there, blond, stocky, her name was claire and she had pretty eyes. she was so kind to me, she had helped me from day one, and never made me do anything i didnt want to do. i was softer in this dream, more trusting. easier to lie to. she told me that the first one had been a terrible accident, and what happened next was just cleaning. helping. they didnt do anything wrong, they made a mess and cleaned it up. spilled milk. and really, after one, what difference did two, three, four, six, ten, twelve really make? they were all the same. theyre all the same, holly. this is all just the first time. whats the difference between once and twice, really? i hated to go near the shed, where the stench of turpentine and meat got worse. where claire would be sinking her axe into the pit, over and over and over again, the sounds turning my stomach. seeing the muck pushed up over her legs, arms, stomach, made me grateful for the darkness down here. i could believe it was just mud. more than the muck, i hated him. i dont remember his name, but he was big and dirty and cruel. i was sure that he liked doing what he did. if i spent too much time with him, id stop believing what claire told me. but that was ok, claire didnt like me spending too much time with him anyway. claire was so good to me. but he wasnt. where claire just wanted me to bring her bottles of turpentine, he wanted me to swing the axe. when claire would let me wait in the trees until it was over, he wanted me down there. in the shed. in the pit. claire never let that happen. she stood with her arms folded, her feet apart, her chin lifted. she insisted i wasnt ready yet. he told her she’d chosen poorly. i didnt hear the rest of that conversation. the next thing i remember is fire, and screaming. claire telling me to run, run goddammit run, and dont you dare follow me. youre innocent, you hear me? youre innocent. you know she was an accident, she was a mistake. you never got your hands dirty, you hear me? RUN i want to look at my hands, now. the stains that mark claire’s never seem to wash off, no matter how much she washes she always looks grimy. weathered. mine are still soft and unmarked. clean. fire bursts down the bottom end of our shelter, building and building and building. i can see the pit illuminated, and when the light falls on it some small part of my brain starts screaming. it doesnt look like mud anymore. then it catches, and it doesnt smell like mud either. something thats sounds too terrible to be true, so terrible it must be, begins to sing in the back of my mind. i turn and throw up into the scrub, wanting to expel the thought, pulling my dazed little cloud of trust and compliance back in close. i traded in my sharp edges, my fire, my fight. i gave them to claire and she promised me shed look after me in exchange. trust claire, and youll never have to try again. my lift my head and i can see her, down by the shed. she swings the axe into the flaming pit and i shudder, remembering the crunch, the squelch. she rests the head of the axe on the ground, so that it stands straight up. the handle reaches about waist height on her, and she rests her hands on it, tilting her head to the side. the flames frame her silhouette for a moment, just a moment. then all hell breaks loose. a split second after a booming voice announces the presence of the FBI (FBI? when did i come to america? where am i? how did i get here?) the flames engulf the shed and the heat combining with whatever they keep in there causes a chemical reaction of epic proportions. i see reality itself unfold and crumple down the bottom end. the sides of the shed swell and pull back in. the roof lifts. then, it all reaches out with the same grace as a bird unfolding its wings. claire’s very body dismantles in much the same way. and then i can’t see anything, anything at all. orange clouds of heat, just pure heat, race up the slope toward me and for a second im sure its the last thing i’ll ever see but then i am outside, with an agent’s arms wrapped around me. at first i think he is comforting me but when i try to break away his grip becomes harsher and i realise, no, hes restraining me. he thinks im a threat. and then my aunt is there and she used to be a cop, so i reach for her. she can help me, she can tell them, tell them that we were just cleaning up an accident. its ok, nobody really got hurt. spilled milk. but her eyes go wide and furious, and afraid and she tells me that im evil, how could i hide this, why didnt i stop it? she thought, no, she knew i was better than that. i was raised better than this, and shed sooner die than help me now. she turns and runs into the flames. and that truth that was singing in my ear before, that thing that went against everything claire had taught me, it was screaming now. running at me with reckless abandon, screeching with blood between its teeth and- oh god. blood. the blood of twelve innocent people, in my backyard. the first woman, she’d had dark hair and four kids. there had been a car accident. accident? that’s what id been told. and i couldnt even remember the others. how had i believed they were just cleaning up the same mess again and again and again? how could i believe that eleven lives were one, that one life was nothing? the pit. the muck that covered claire at any given time. the axe, the squelch, the crunch. oh god.

#aaaaaaaand then i woke up crying

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