#am i fighting for my life against nausea as i do? also yes. hoping my meds kick in soon tho | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

har-rison-s · 2 years ago

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i'd fight hell to hold you

eddie munson x reader with she/her pronouns

a/n: hi. another eddie piece. the obsession has begun. my god... idk if i’m ready for friday. it’s going to be absolutely insane. my irl st bestie will come over & we’ll watch together while eating pizza... i am so not ready. my head is empty rn because i’ve speculated on who’s gonna die and what’s gonna happen so much but i just can’t bring myself to do that anymore. i need to stop thinking about it, and i want to just watch what happens yk. idk... anyways. here we are. this one-shot is inspired by kiss’ song “i’d fight hell to hold you” which is 1) in my eddie playlist 2) a listening recommendation for reading this fic :) i think this one’s gonna be longer than my previous eddie one-shots, but ofc i shall see. i just have a premise that i need to write, something in the script i have to modify for this certain scenario and yeah. all in all, i hope you guys will like it :) oh also! i’m graduating my art high school on saturday :))))) i can’t believe i’ve come this far. insane. anyways. happy reading babies!

masterlist

stranger things masterlist

word count: 6.8k

song rec: i'd fight hell to hold you by kiss

tags: mentions of nausea, throwing up, the upside down

(a/n: my babies :( if anything happens to either or both of them in vol2, you will pay, duffers, and greatly ) gif credit goes to owner!

“nancy, no!” robin had managed to scream out a mere second before nancy, deemed the leader of the group, delved into the deep, dark water. clearly not following out on robin’s unspoken advice to not go where steve was just forcefully pulled into. eddie doesn’t know what to say, because his warning to nancy didn’t work, so why would words work? he looks to y/n slowly, wondering what’s on her mind as their next move. before he and robin can take the next shaky breath, though, y/n delves head-first into the dark water, right after nancy and steve. “y/n!”

“y/n! noo!” eddie can only muster in complete shock and hopelessness at what’s just happened. he can’t believe his eyes. he can’t believe his ears. he knows y/n well enough to know she would do anything for her friends, but this is putting her life in danger. and more than that, if there’s such a thing. eddie knows there’s only one thing he can do. to save her, to protect her, to guard her, to make sure she’ll be okay. his fighting abilities are pretty decent, but he doesn’t know what he’ll be facing. to hell with that. he’ll protect her no matter what they’re up against. so eddie looks at robin, gripping the boat’s side, takes a deep breath and jumps in after y/n, not caring what awaits him down in the depths of lover’s lake.

what awaits him is a glowing red portal that isn’t very inviting. but he sees just y/n’s converse-clad feet pulling through the portal to the other side, and he has no choice but to follow. it’s not like he would have sat in that boat with robin and waited until steve, nancy and y/n returned. it’s not like he wouldn’t go into another dimension, to the ends of the world, right into a monster’s arms, to save her. just to make sure she makes it out alive. screw everyone else, screw eddie himself, he won’t let anything happen to her.

the crawl through the gate isn’t pleasant—eddie could use many experiences of his own to describe how squeezing through that really felt—and what’s on the other side isn’t pleasant, either. a dark world. no sun, no moon, no wind. disgusting vines that resemble poisonous snakes crawling everywhere. and eddie’s best friend and new friends in peril. nancy and y/n taking on—flying bats?—together, with each their own skills and found weapons. it seems steve has a handful of them to fight himself, now that the girls have got a portion of the bats off him. he looks badly wounded.

and y/n looks as attractive as ever. yes, they’re in another dimension, yes, she’s wet and slimy and killing bats—but perhaps that’s the exact reason. she’s fighting for her friends, fighting for herself, fighting for who eddie is pretty sure is the unrequited love of her life. and she’s doing great. eddie even makes a mesmerized smile at the sight of her in his stupor, his eyes forming into hearts in the midst of this battle, suddenly amnesia-like to his own situation, his current reality. it’s a bat that swings onto his shoulders that breaks him out of that trance.

eddie’s quick and agile, and grabs one of the oars laying around, and begins attacking the bat. so it’s not only keen on steve, but on the girls and eddie himself, too. it might be stupid, but what really motivates him and gets him through this terribly gross fight with the bats is the thought that he might look at y/n maybe just one more time after it. he might talk to her, might embrace her, might have her at all after this. she’s the reason he keeps a clear head and has a clear target in this fight.

when no more bats seem to be coming, yet there’s still sounds of a struggle, the group turn to watch steve taking down a bat one on one without any sign of mercy. even though eddie’s fascinated himself, he can’t help but think that y/n might find this the hottest thing in the world. a guy taking some demon bat down with his bare hands? pulling its head off with nothing but his hands and feet? it’s the most metal thing eddie’s ever seen, and quite the epic ozzy move, as well. it’s what eddie wants to be.

yet he’s no hero. he’s not like steve, who isn’t afraid to check out danger, who isn’t afraid to jump into dangerous waters first, who doesn’t hesitate to take down demon bats in an alternate dimension. eddie got scared. he saw proper traumatizing shit and ran. he wishes he was different, and that he’d have more guts. he wishes he was more like steve, who y/n undeniably likes. eddie sometimes wishes he had everything that steve has. and that’s why, regrettably, his eyes turn sour towards steve.

but after the last bat has been taken down and everyone’s coming to it slowly, eddie doesn’t hesitate to run straight towards y/n. he’s pleasantly surprised to find her also moving towards him, and he practically cradles her like fragile china in his arms. though he already let his tantrums get the best of him beforehand, he keeps chanting jesus h christ(though his religion is, quite frankly, the opposite of that) as he embraces y/n, his best friend, with shaking hands. “jesus christ,” eddie mutters and then pulls away, his hands on y/n’s cheeks now. he knows they’re off limits to each other in this sense, but he can mask his loving ways to her with care, can’t he? eddie inspects her face, searching for bruises or cuts or whatever else that might need quick attending-to, “did they hurt you? have you been bitten?” he asks in a super quick voice.

y/n shakes her head firmly. “no, no, i’m not hurt,” she tells him surely and rests her hands on eddie’s wrists. he realizes that might be a sign to draw back, to pull his hands away, to get out of that zone, so he begins lowering them, “are youhurt?” she asks in return, her eyes looking over eddie’s form. he shakes his head, too. though he’s sure that out of the shock and fear he’s feeling, he could very well not have felt if a bat has bit him.

“no, no, i’m not hurt... terrified out of my mind, though? traumatized? oh yeah,” eddie says, and y/n weakly smiles at his attempts to address the situation with humor, “you scared me, y/n, you really did. back there...” eddie shakes his head, his hands now on his hips as he looks down, very obviously hiding tears that he’s always trying to hold in, “i thought you... i mean—i—you went so—"

y/n puts her hands on eddie’s chest, one of them sneaking up to his neck, knowing that it’s always the place she needs to touch to get eddie to listen to her. “i’m sorry,” she tells him, “wasn’t thinking it through. acted like a dumb horror movie character there,” she admits, and eddie can manage to make a smile at that half-joke, “couldn’t let them go down here alone, could i? we’ve gotta figure all of this out. can’t leave my friends to certain death.”

eddie’s quiet, but he nods. friends. she definitely looks at steve as more than a friend, he’s sure, but he’ll let her words stay that way. eddie nods again. “i know, i know,” he tells her, and then they both hear more bat screeching from the forest. if you can call that a forest... eddie’s head shoots straight up, fast, rabid-like. he reminds y/n of a bunny—they’re perpetually anxious animals and jump at every and any noise around them. eddie seems to have taken a role of one for now.

y/n moves her hand up to eddie’s cheek, trying to make him look at her. she knows she often has the power to ground him. not often, but always. and slowly, with his head going into this and that direction first, he does turn to her. complete submission, as well as fear and anxiety, in his eyes as they connect with hers. y/n can only imagine what it’s like to be eddie. what he’s seen in the last forty-eight hours alone... and now to be jumping into a completely alien, dangerous world to find the monster that’s responsible for deaths in his hometown... fighting demon bats along the way... it’s no surprise eddie’s eyes are filled with tears now, at the sound of those bats, at the thought of y/n in danger. he’s a step away from sobbing, and y/n can see he’s slowly taking that step. but they don’t have much time for crying or letting it all out right now. eddie’s a straight-forward person with his emotions and has to deal with them right away, you know that. but there’s no time.

“the woods.” nancy huffs as the group of five all see a cloud of bats approaching. “come on,” nancy leads the way into the woods, which is totally not where y/n or eddie would go if they could choose, but they can’t choose at the moment. they both trust the people who have dealt with these monsters, with this whole world under hawkins. from what nancy has said, she’s the one most familiar with this dark, scary world.

and when she tells the group she has guns in her house—yes, plural, as eddie so pointedly emphasized—y/n and eddie can’t help but trust her even more. sure, nancy’s image deceives her true nature, and y/n is even glad to learn that it does, but the girl knows what she’s doing, and she knows what she’s dealing. the earthquake that comes to shake this world while the group are making plans around skull rock surprises even nancy—what could be causing something like this?

y/n immediately clings to eddie, who can’t help but be clung to by two girls—y/n and robin—at once, as she loses her balance. they crash to the ground in a mess of limbs, yelping in surprise and then grunting in pain almost immediately after. eddie’s holding both girls to him, one to each side, one for each arm. a strong arm, y/n must admit, eddie’s always been seemingly harmless from afar, but his arms hold the most strength in his body.

the shaking of the ground beneath her and everything else around her makes her nauseous, so she just closes her eyes and prays that the earthquake ends as quickly as it started. she didn’t know an earthquake could make her nauseous—they happen close to never in the state of indiana—and she hopes she doesn’t throw up now from that nausea feeling. ugh, and her mints are in steve’s car, she forgot to take them with. they might have helped against this nausea, but she could never have predicted she’d need them. this really sucks.

eventually, the terror of this earthquake ends, and y/n can breathe a deep sigh of relief. she still clings to eddie’s forearm, even when it’s past a few seconds since the earthquake ended. “so guns seem like a really good idea right now,” eddie says, fully backing away from his disbelief of nancy having guns in her bedroom, sure that the girl is telling the truth, and it might be the only solution to this situation right now.

y/n snaps her eyes open, though stays where she is for the next couple of seconds. in some way, she waits for another earthquake to start. it can’t be over yet, can it? “yeah, me too,” robin agrees with eddie and is the first to rise from the ground. eddie absentmindedly wraps that free arm of his around y/n’s frame now, too, and bends his head down next to her, their faces side by side. she feels tense against him.

“you alright, sweetheart?” he gently whispers into her ear. she gives him a shaky nod.

“for the most part,” she squeezes out, “i just feel very nauseous.” y/n informs him and takes deep breaths in and out again, hoping it will help that horrible feeling. eddie nods.

“sorry, i think i lost my gum somewhere in this... hellhole.” he tells her, checking all the pockets he can with one of his hands. y/n’s lips curl into a small smile at that response. eddie, ever so kind and considerate.

“it’s fine,” she says in a huffed breath and gets ready to stand up on her two feet, “as long as i don’t throw up, or another earthquake doesn’t happen, i’ll be fine.”

eddie nods again. “you just let me know, okay? i’ll do whatever i can.” he offers and is the first to stand up, pulling his legs away from under y/n. he offers her both of his hands, out-stretched and firm, before he thinks to do anything else, “come on,” eddie quietly urges her on before y/n takes his hands and is being pulled up by eddie. she feels faint, and ends up standing closer to him than she anticipated.

eddie notices right away how her eyes travel to steve—he doesn’t notice that they stick onto robin and nancy, as well, he’s blind as a bat to that—and how before they did that, as well. when nancy was tying that piece of fabric around his stomach. when they were all crouching around skull rock. eddie notices all of that, but he doesn’t see, now that y/n’s turned her back to him, that she’s not looking at steve at all anymore, but instead at this world they’re in behind him, around him, surrounding them all.

eddie shrugs off his denim vest and throws it at steve without a warning or word uttered. everyone looks at him, y/n included, and she sees a weird expression on eddie’s face, a strange look in his eyes she can’t quite recognize. “for your modesty, dude,” eddie explains to steve in a voice of mock-disgust. steve nods thankfully, but is too out of breath to say anything more. firstly, eddie wants steve to cover up a bit so y/n would stop literally gawking at him. secondly, steve’s much more vulnerable in this unpredictable place with a bare torso than with a covered one.

“come on,” nancy urges the group, breaking out to be the leader among them again as she heads deeper into the woods, “no time to waste. let’s go!” she commands her group of friends, and they follow her without another thought or protest.

y/n feels just nauseous enough to not be able to talk without feeling like she’ll barf, so she doesn’t walk side by side with anyone. she’d love to be walking with eddie, but the tension between him and steve, for some reason, could be cut through with a knife, and she doesn’t want to be in the middle of that.

she couldn’t handle it on a regular day, much less on a day she feels like vomiting any next second. she doesn’t wanna give the boys the delight of having vomit on their shoes, so she simply walks after nancy and robin, and in front of steve and eddie. she tries not to think of what the vines could be, tries not to think of where or what they could lead to, she simply keeps her head up and hopes this nausea will fade away soon. preferably, sooner than she has calculated.

eddie doesn’t protest, doesn’t request her beside him. nausea can be a tough time, and he understands if she doesn’t wanna talk to him at the moment. he walks solemnly with steve, some good few feet behind y/n. he tries not to look at her as much as he usually does, since he’s in front of steve now, but his eyes do wander to her, he can’t help it.

“eddie,” steve addresses his walking partner. he’s glad for it to be someone closer to his own age, a change of pace from his usual buddy, dustin. he does miss the kid, though, even if he’s been away from him only some fifteen to twenty minutes now. the long-haired brunette turns his head to steve with curious, oblivious eyes, “hey, uh... i just wanted to say thanks for, uh, saving my ass back there.” steve tells eddie, and gives him a respectful nod, lips pursed and eyes looking into eddie’s. much similar to his own—big, doe and brown.

eddie nearly snorts. “shit, you saved your own ass, man,” he tells steve, shaking his head slightly. steve’s lips make into a subtle grin, “i mean... that was a real ozzy move you pulled back there.” it’s everything i’ve wanted to be. especially for her. steve quirks an eyebrow.

“ozzy?” he echoes. like the wizard of oz?

“when you took a bite out of that bat,” eddie elaborates, but steve still gives him a clueless look, “ozzy osbourne? black sabbath?” he offers to steve, but he’s already shaking his head and turning away. awh, y/n would have gotten the reference. “he bit a bat’s head off, on stage, once.”

steve shakes his head again. “i don’t... i don’t know,” he tells eddie.

he shrugs. “doesn’t matter,” he dismisses, and guesses that the right person gets this reference, “it’s very metal, what you did. that’s all i’m saying.”

steve chuckles dryly. eddie doesn’t blame him. here he is, steve harrington, nearly bitten to death by bats he took apart with his bare hands mere moments later, and the weirdo of the school is trying to feed him a metaphor for it. plus, he’s bleeding while walking around some big monster’s lair. “thanks.” steve tells him.

eddie nods along. the man seems pretty unsure of himself as of now. “henderson told me you were a badass.” he continues. “insisted on the matter, in fact. y/l/n over there told me that, too.”

“they said that?” steve asks in disbelief, and eddie gives another nod in response. both guys now look after y/n, climbing over suspicious vines ahead of them, clearly oblivious to their conversation.

“oh, yeah, shit, henderson... worships you, dude,” eddie elaborates. he knows someone else who worships steve besides dustin, “like, you have no idea.” steve chuckles, a bit more lively this time. “it’s kinda annoying, to be honest. i.... don’t even know why i care what that little shrimp thinks, but, uh... i guess...” it gets difficult for eddie to say what he wants to say next, “i guess i got a little jealous, steve.” he doesn’t guess that, actually, he knows it. eddie just doesn’t want to fully admit it, but he is jealous of steve. for many reasons. y/n. dustin. “guess i couldn’t accept the fact that... steve harrington,” he makes a little dramatic pause, “was actually... a good dude.”

eddie sees steve’s head hanging lower. out of embarrassment? out of the good words? but there’s a smile on steve’s lips, as well. eddie can’t help his jealousy, his envy. of steve’s looks, of his character, his personality, his reputation, his brotherhood with dustin, with lucas and max, his close relationships with three (and maybe even more) smoking hot ladies. steve’s hero character and mind-set, on which he acts. he protects the kids and his friends any way he can, always being the first to test out dangerous waters—quite literally in the most recent situation. he’s not turning his back to a dangerous situation, he’s standing up and doing something about it.

“rich parents, popular, chicks love him,” eddie lists off, a certain chick he knows well popping up in his mind as he says the quality, “not a douche? no way, man, nooo way.” steve’s smile grows wider. “that, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe, and... my own personal munson doctrine.” steve chuckles now. eddie leans closer to him. “still super jealous as hell, by the way.” of everything you are, everything and everyone you attract, everything that you can so easily have. unlike me.

steve pulls back a little, laughing now, “okay.” he tells eddie, and the boy grins.

“it’s actually why i, uh... would never have jumped in that lake to save your ass,” eddie admits, “sorry to say. no offense, of course, dude, but uh... not under any normal circumstances.”

steve shakes his head. “i get it, man, i get it,” he tells eddie, “nothing about this is normal in any way. it's insane how we can even think what to do next, after everything...”

eddie feels that shame he’s bound to talk about creep up his spine like a spider with sharp claws, “yeah, well... outside of d&d, i am nooo... hero.” his eyes fall onto y/n again. “well, okay, there is one exception.” eddie says, and a short sigh full of longing escapes his lips as he looks on the girl. steve follows his eyes, and makes a smile at the connection. something that is so clear to see. “one person i’d follow anywhere. other than that,” eddie shrugs, “i see danger and i just turn heel and run.”

steve pats him on the back, still that knowing smile playing on his lips as he does so, “give yourself a break, man,” he tells eddie, “witnessing and being a part of anything like this is very, uh... it’s not anything normal. and you’ve seen enough. cut yourself some slack.”

eddie shakes his head as a nervous chuckle passes through his lips, “yeah, well, see,” he starts to say, slowing him and steve both down in their path, “the only reason i came in here was ‘cause that little strong lady jumped in straight after you.” eddie gestures in y/n’s direction with his hand. “well, okay, not after you, but after nancy—they practically jumped in at the same time.” eddie explains. “now, i would have been too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. but as soon as she disappeared underwater, that all changed. i couldn’t stay behind.” he starts his and steve’s walk forwards up again. “surprised myself, even, doing that, but...” eddie shakes his head and inwardly punches himself at what he’s about to say, “i would literally pass through the gates of hell for her.” steve smiles again. “not sure she’d do the same for me, cause... she literally just proved that she’d do that for someone else. but i don’t know... maybe if i wasn’t such a chicken, things would have been different.”

“why do you think she wouldn’t do the same for you?” steve asks. clearly, he doesn’t know eddie as well as he knows y/n, and not nearly as long, either. but he knows they’ve been best friends forever, probably since they wore diapers, and he knows y/n’s dedication to her friends. to eddie.

eddie glances at steve momentarily, slight fear in his eyes. “well, ‘cause it’s clear there’s someone else she would dive after—literally,” eddie says, “this popular dude who babysits random kids when he’s not working shifts at family video.” eddie finally says—it took a lot in him to say that out loud, much less without getting all emotional about it—and huffs quietly, turning his gaze away from steve. he doesn’t wanna see his boasty, self-centered reaction to the clear fact eddie’s just stated.

but steve shakes his head with a scoff that he only wants to sound like complete disagreement to what eddie’s just said. “you think she’s after me?” steve asks eddie in a quieter voice, since there’s a possibility y/n could hear them both. as steve looks at eddie, the metalhead nods.

“it’s clear as day!” eddie argues. “you’re all she talks about, who her eyes are glued on all the time, and no doubt who she thinks about all the time, too.” he crosses his arms over his chest like a little kid. steve chuckles again.

“your radar is way off, dude,” steve says, but receives no reply from eddie, meaning he’s not convinced, but he’s on the way there, “it’s not me she thinks and talks about all the time, i guarantee you that. a hundred percent,” he assures.

“who is it, then?” eddie inquires, clueless as any next person. steve shakes his head.

“it’s you, dumbass,” steve breaks him the news and looks at eddie while he does so to make his point more sure, more firm. at first eddie just stares off in the distance, his arms still crossed over his chest as he ponders on this, “trust me, i know when a girl is, as they say, smitten. and she’s not smitten with me.” steve gulps. “you are all she talks about, she gushes about you, dude. rambles, if i may say that. you are her every waking thought, no doubt, everything that we do, everything we see reminds her in the weirdest of ways of you.”

now eddie just thinks steve’s playing a prank. making all that he said up, pulling it out of thin air. “how can you be so sure? how can you know that?” eddie inquires further. now steve laughs and shakes his head at how clueless eddie really is with girls. sure, he can treat a girl right, and he can love her to the ends of this earth, but he can’t catch her drift for the life of him. he can’t read women at all.

steve gives eddie one last shake of his head and leans in closer to the boy. “just... tell her how you feel, prove your feelings to her in some way, any way, or at least try to,” he advises eddie, “and you’ll see. i guarantee you, there will be promising results.” steve says, and his last words make both boys giggle.

“thanks, harrington, really,” eddie tells him genuinely, and steve nods. eddie thinks on this advice steve has given him. if what he’s said is true about y/n, and if his advice will prove that, why should eddie waste any time? no time like the present, right? who the fuck knows what’s next in this dark dimension. vecna might come after any one of them any second. so why not tell y/n how he feels right now, while he’s still here, alive and breathing, while they both are? “i’ll see about those promising results and get back to ya.” eddie says to steve as he begins to skip ahead, so he’d be in one step with y/n. steve gives eddie an encouraging nod, and even a true smile. he hopes it works out for those two. and he hopes eddie won’t chicken out.

y/n notices him next to her with the corner of her eye as she still tries to stifle her nausea, her nose as high in the air as it can be. “hi, eddie,” she says quietly in an exhale. eddie gives her a kind smile, his hands fidgeting with his jacket in his crossed-arms position.

“hi, sweetheart,” he tells her, “how you feeling?” he genuinely inquires. y/n sighs.

“still nauseous,” she responds, “though it’s going away slowly. the stink of this place doesn’t help at all.”

eddie chuckles at that revelation. “i bet it doesn’t, yeah,” he agrees, “listen, uh... wanted to, uh, tell you something. just hear me out, nothing else, no obligation to answer or... anything.”

y/n furrows her eyebrows, but then realizes what this could be about. eddie’s great at argumentative monologues, you know that. he always has backing reasons for whatever he wants or needs. “you can use my garage for band practice, eddie, i don’t mind,” she tells him in a slightly annoyed voice, “dad’s at work on saturdays, anyway.” she makes a hard sniff with her nose. though it’s probably not the best idea right now, since there’s... particles flying around in the air. who knows what they contain?

“it’s... not about that, actually, but... i’ll definitely keep it in mind,” eddie says and makes a nervous chuckle. y/n furrows her eyebrows even more. what else could this be about? “listen, uh... i’ll try my best to say this straight-forward. god! i’m so nervous,” eddie shakes his head. y/n finally drops her head to a normal level and turns it to look at eddie properly. what on earth could he be nervous about? he keeps his eyes ahead of him, “i’m gonna sound like a pussy saying this, but there was really no other reason that made me jump in that damn lover’s lake, except you.” eddie finally begins, and y/n is in a slight state of shock, so much so that she listens without any interjection. if it had been any other setting, any other situation, she would be arguing already, or asking a million questions. “you, who i’ve known since we were building sand castles in the playing ground’s sandbox. you’ve, uh, been my best friend ever since you threw that box of acorns down on my head.” they both chuckle at that memory. y/n can tell this is something serious, something really important to eddie that he’s talking about. “you’re the most amazing, badass girl i know. my mother would have loved to see you grow up.” eddie shakes his head softly. “and, fuck, i feel so... not me with this, but i also feel like the best version of myself ever since i...” y/n furrows her eyebrows again. “i’m not makin’ any sense... it’s just, you know i hate clichés, right?” eddie leans closer to y/n, looking into her eyes. she, as clueless as a by-passer about everything that he’s saying and the point he’s trying to make, nods at eddie. “yeah.” he nods. “i never expected my cliché of choice to be falling for my best friend, so... that’s two surprises in one. well, it’s not like i chose to—which i would have done, anyway, but...”

y/n is in utter shock. she just looks at eddie with wide eyes, watching his lips twist and turn as he tries to say something. something more, something different—whatever. it’s all out of stress, he can’t stand her not answering or responding in any way, so he immediately feels like he has to make up the silence with something, anything. but what can y/n say? she has been bamboozled totally and utterly.

neither of them can get a word in to save their lives, because the ground starts shaking again, starting up another earthquake. y/n falls to the ground helplessly, and eddie falls right after her, reaching for her hand. he might have dropped a complete bombshell on her just, and is still waiting for a response, and she might not want him near her now or later or ever, but he has to make sure she’s at least on a support system throughout this earthquake. “here we go again!” eddie whines as he pulls y/n into his arms, her back against his chest. she holds onto his hands, but faintly. then she nearly pulls away completely.

“i’m gonna be sick,” she exclaims awkwardly, holding her stomach, as she gets up on her shaking legs, on the shaky ground, and makes away from eddie, heading towards a near-by tree. eddie worries, shoots an anxious look towards steve, who’s a few feet behind them, also on the vine-covered ground, holding onto his flashlight for dear life, clear signs of struggle on his face. he nods at eddie, as he knows what he’s thinking. eddie just shakes his head, closing his eyes.

he tries his best to get up while he still wobbles and everything around him is rattling and shaking, and he follows y/n. after he takes a few steps, the earth settles and the earthquake slowly ends, and he makes an exhale of relief. his ears aren’t filled with the horridly loud noise of the earthquake anymore, but he does hear the sound of retching. that must be poor y/n, puking out her insides and whatever it was she ate last. eddie frowns, waits for it to end, and approaches her around the vine-wrapped tree.

he hears her spitting, and then she’s steadying herself against the tree, her back somewhat straight. she notices eddie two feet away from her, and he sees her face is exhausted, pale, nearly green. poor thing. “well,” she starts to say in a breathy voice, “i guess my nausea got worse.” y/n admits, and tries to make a smile. it barely works, and it makes eddie laugh. full-on laugh, with his hand on his stomach. y/n wipes the corner of her mouth and her chin with the sleeve of her jacket, wrapped and tied around her waist. ugh, the thought of there being sick on her skin, on her clothes—which there definitely is—nearly makes her sick to her stomach again.

“you alright to walk?” he asks and glances around at their team-mates. they’re just getting ready to get up themselves now. eddie looks back at y/n.

“i’m good,” she answers with a nod of her head, “looks like i really needed to empty my stomach to function normally, but uh... can we stay here? for just a moment longer?” y/n requests. eddie raises his eyebrows and gives her a nod.

“sure,” he says, and now that the conversation of her nausea and the earthquake has dissipated, he feels the awkward silence of their conversation before enter the atmosphere again. he awkwardly looks around as y/n still heaves with heavy breaths.

“that’s quite a bombshell to drop in another dimension, in the midst of the world ending,” y/n tells him, referencing his previous confession, “i, uh, actually thought you liked someone else all this time. didn’t know who, but... i had a feeling.” she breathes out deeply. “how long have you known?” y/n asks him, their eyes finally connecting again.

eddie purses his lips and then huffs. “well, since, uh... sophomore year, i guess?”

“so since we both hit puberty,” y/n clarifies, and eddie nods, though he is slightly ashamed to, “me first, though.”

he scoffs. “obviously,” he says, “i was seventeen, and you were, well... you were just a dream. i told you that every chance i got, thinking it’s gonna go somewhere, but clearly, it never did.” eddie admits.

now y/n makes an amused scoff. “i wanted it to go somewhere, too, but,” she shrugs, “i always thought it was just you, you know, complimenting me because you’d done that countless times before. you did all the time, actually,” she tells him, “never thought there was something more behind it. i never would have thought you, eddie munson, my drop-dead-gorgeous metal-head, nerd best friend would have the same feelings i had—have for you.” she admits and shakes her head subtly. that catches eddie off-guard completely. scratch the fact that he just admitted him being in love with her, this... this is something else.

promising results.

“didn’t wanna appear as delusional or, uh—or greedy for something i clearly couldn’t get,” y/n continues, “i mean, you’re just way out of my league. always have been.”

eddie steps closer to her, his breath stuck in his throat—he’s not sure he’s breathing right now, but it’s not exactly what he’s focusing on right now, either—and he looks dead into her eyes. “no, you’re out of my league.” he argues to her, and now y/n straightens her back and stretches her muscles with an easy laugh.

“no, you are,” she argues back, “two can play at this game, munson, and we both know i’ll—”

“can i kiss you right now?” eddie interrupts her characteristic snap-back at him, catching her off-guard now. he’s sure she’s never been more beautiful, more herself to him than she is now. she’s the hottest girl in school, has the best personality—also deemed one of a pirate—, is eddie’s best friend in the entire world, challenges him on the daily and has the same feelings for him as he does for her? out of this world (that’s where they are right now, though). unbelievable. unreal.

he’s been waiting for the chance to ask her that, he’s been waiting to kiss her since forever, and there isn’t a more perfect moment than now. y/n has wanted the same thing for years, as well—they’re both in quite the same boat—she’s wanted eddie to just take her face in his hands and kiss her until they both suffocate since she can remember. but she’ll disagree with him about that best moment aspect of this whole thing. “eddie, i literally just threw up,” she says in a coarse voice, “my breath stinks and i’m covered in sick.” y/n tells him, looking him back dead in the eyes. “i don’t think you’re gonna want to kiss me right now.” she says with a shake of her head, and a gentle smirk playing at her lips. eddie narrows his eyes at her.

“you don’t know what i think,” he says with a slight shake of his head, keeping his eyes narrowed at her, “can i level with you?” he asks her, and y/n gives him a nod. their faces are close as ever, sure, they’ve been that close before, but never in this context, “we’re in an alternate dimension, where monsters powerful enough to break into people’s psyche rule with their miles-long vines crawling all around. we’re about to go to nancy wheeler’s house to get guns she’s hiding in her bedroom,” eddie says, getting ever so closer to y/n with nearly each word he speaks, “to kill that very monster. there’s earthquakes left and right, and probably monsters, too—who knows? we might get attacked any next second,” eddie’s voice gets lower and huskier as he talks, and y/n can’t help but admit that it’s making her lower belly tickle. not with nausea this time, though, thankfully. with something much more pleasant, “now i’ve just told you i’ve been in love with you since i was seventeen, and you’ve told me you have those exact same feelings. but now you’re telling me i won’t want to kiss you? just because you’ve thrown up?” y/n has to admit he’s made a point. “come on, sweetheart. not the worst thing i’ve seen you do in all our years of friendship.”

y/n can name a few memories he’s referencing with that already, and she blushes while a giggle escapes her lips. “stop,” she simply says, looking away from his strong, captivating eyes.

“point is, don’t tell me what i want or don’t want to do,” eddie continues and moves even closer to her, “another point is, this might be our last conversation ever,” he says and looks down at her as he stretches his back again, y/n looking up at him with a grin slowly stretching her lips, “so just stand on those tippy-toes of yours and let me kiss you, ‘kay?” eddie’s already moving a hand into her hair, about to cradle the back of her head as he requests this one sacred thing from her. he might die, she might die—they both might die any next moment. and he doesn’t want to go without having kissed her, ever. his whole life would be wasted then. “please,” eddie breathes a whisper. his big, doe eyes hold that plea in them, as well. she’s never been able to resist them. well, with great discipline, but only sometimes.

and to his much pleasant surprise, y/n nods without a word uttered, and does as he’s so sweetly requested of her. she stands on her tippy-toes, grips eddie’s shoulder for support and stability—both of them uttering breathy giggles at that little intermission—and leans her face even higher up, closer to his, their lips now just an inch apart—

“hey, lovebirds! we got a monster to kill, wrap it up!” a very annoying call from the hair king himself disrupts y/n and eddie’s enviable moment of intimacy. they both shut their eyes and huff out deeply. then they laugh, because they did both of those things in complete unison, and it just shows how close they are. y/n’s head rests momentarily on eddie’s chest, and she still holds onto his shoulders as the both of them look at steve past their closest tree. he’s gesturing for them to come quick, and the pair shake their heads.

“always with the great fucking timing,” eddie mumbles under his breath, and rolls his eyes at steve. and though they might not have yet had their first kiss, eddie makes sure to hold y/n’s hand in his, or to have an arm around her shoulders as some level of visual affection between them. if there’s really no time, then there really is no time. nevertheless, even if the both of them are in hell, eddie will fight every monster it takes to hold y/n to him again and forever. he’ll always fight hell to get to kiss her. he’ll fight hell to hold her.

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @gasbomb69 @xoxobabydolls @corallyink @rottenstyx @d4td7ewmachine (if anyone wants to be added, let me know! i'm also thinking of making an eddie taglist, so :) hmu)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things one-shot #har-rison-s writes

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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

I Think I Love You || Daniel Le Domas ||

A/n: Adam Brody has no right to look so hot in this movie.

Part two will be all about the game.

Flashback Italicized

/Thought will look like this/

Warnings: Smut/implied smut, swearing, death mention, blood.

||Part 1||

|| Part 2|| - Coming soon

Song Inspiration: I Think I Love You- Tenacious D.

Summary: You are the granddaughter to Harlan Thrombey, daughter to Richard and Linda Drysdale, twin to Hugh Ransom Drysdale. You are your grandfathers favorite and once you found out about your fathers cheating you’ve decided to become Y/n Thrombey which Harlan was happy to see. Wanting nothing to do with your toxic family you’ve decided to move and do something with your life.

Becoming a doctor was a nice touch, but finding your best friend through collage was even better and it only took one night to meet your soulmate.Though it seem’s that that Daniel Le Domas has to deal with his own toxic family.

You never thought that you would be fighting for your life at your best friend’s wedding.

Just wait until you get home.

Drumming your finds on the bars counter top, you gave another glance at your phone checking the time. You weren’t surprised Grace was late, she did have a boyfriend after all so you couldn’t blame the girl for wanting to spend some time with the man. Sighing you took another sip of your drink debating on if you should call her or not though it was a gruff voice calling out your name that stopped you.

“You Y/n?”

Blinking you turned in the bar seat to see a tall man staring at you, the firs thing you noticed was that he was frowning. The second thing you noticed was how handsome he was. He had dark brown hair, god you want to run your fingers through it and some beautiful chocolate brown eyes and that beard...god you wondered what that would feel like on your skin though the man must have called your name again, you cleared out your throat forcing a smile on your face.

“Uh...ya that’s me...can I help you.”

Wrinkling his nose, Daniel tore his gaze away from you. Grace never mentioned how attractive you were though then again it’s not like she got the chance with the woman practically begging him to go and see you.

“Daniel...please...she’s my best friend! can you just go check on her...maybe stay with her for a while.”

Nursing a beer, Daniel didn’t even bother to hide the scowl that was on his face. “Now why would I do that.”

“I was supposed to meet with her but Alex wanted to take me out...he kept on insisting on taking me out...he said it was important.”

That made him nearly drop his beer, god he hoped that the idiot wasn’t going to ask her for marry him. He wanted to say no say, he wanted to tell her to just blow his brother off and to just go see her friend but that’s not what he did, how could he when she’s been so nice to him.

“Fine....stop looking at me like that...where is this friend of yours?”

Shaking those thoughts away, Daniel sighed as he sat in the empty seat next to you. “Grace sent me...Alex want to take her out....though before you get a sad it has nothing to do with you...I’m pretty sure he’s going to propose.”

“And who are you?” Taking a sip of your drink, you wanted to know who this handsome stranger was and how he knew your best friend.

“Daniel...Alex’s older brother.”

Snorting you turned to face the man fully. “Right...well...I suppose it’s nice to meet you Daniel.” Wrinkling your nose, you gave him a pleasant smile holding your hand out for him to take. “I’m Y/n....well you already know that but I thought I should at least say it.”

A small chuckle escaped Daniels lips, something he was surprised about. You were more refreshing than he ex wife was and as the night grew on he came to find that you were much more kind, he found himself wanting to spend more time with you.

“Daniel?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like...to walk me home?”

“I’d love too.”

Daniel did not think much of walking you home, he was to distracted by your soft lips against his neck. The honey words whispering in his ear of the things you wanted him to do once you two got back to his apartment. Though what Daniel Le Domas did not know was that this one night was going to change his life.

Because it wasn’t going to be just one night. This one night would turn into to two, two would be come a week and a week would turn into six months and somewhere along those six month’s Daniel had fallen in love with you and thanks to his brother, he would be getting a sister in law then that meant you would be meeting his family.

The one thing he never wanted.

“I can’t believe she said yes.” You muttered resting your head against your boyfriends chest. His fingers was slowly running down your back, though they lingered in your hair.

Daniel let out a snort, closing his eyes falling into the after glow of the sex. It always felt magical when he slept with you. Completely different from the passionless sex he would have with his ex. “I take it from her news your not happy?”

“I...just don’t trust him...I’lm sorry Daniel.”

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t blame you. His family wasn’t very trust worth, not with all the shit they did. “You don’t have to apologize y/n...my family is pretty shit.”

Shaking your head you adjusted your body so you were not sitting on his lap as his hands grasped your hips.

“Well that makes two of us....everyone in my family is shit but my Grandfather.”

Leaning down you gave him a kiss, Daniel deepening sliding his tongue across your lower lip though soon you found yourself on your back with him hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Capturing your lips in for another kiss he slowly slid into.

You were perfect...and you were his.

He was talking in his sleep again but this time it looked like he was having a nightmare.

“No...no...please...not her.”

“Daniel.” Frowning, you watched the man twitch in his sleep. Face twisting in pain as he shifted in his sleep.

“Daniel.” Moving closer to him, you placed your hand against his cheek as the other grasped his hand. “Wake up..you’re having a nightmare....just open your eyes for me.”

Jolting awake Daniel had to stop himself from screaming out No, tears were streaming down his cheek as he frantically looked around the room. “Y/n.”

“Shh...I’m right here.”

Holding Daniel close, you hated feeling the man sob against your chest. His tears hitting your naked skin. “I’m not going anywhere...I promise.”

Soothing Daniel, you pressed a kiss to his head as he finally settled down with him falling into a deep sleep. His body spooning against you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

You prayed he didn’t remember that nightmare.

Pulling up to your grandfathers, Daniel swallowed thickly.This home was giving his family’s home a run for its money. Leaning forward you gave Daniel a soft kiss.

“You don’t need to come with me Daniel...I think my asshole brother is here anyways.”

Shaking his head, Daniel gave your hand a soft kiss. “No...I want to join you..meet your grandfather...he mean’s a lot to you.”

Beaming at the man you slipped out of the car pausing for a moment feeling another wave on nausea hit you. “Hey? you okay?”

Daniel frowned as he stepped behind you, his hand rubbing your lower back. “Still sick? maybe we should skip the wedding?”

“What! no! Grace is my best friend...I’m also the maid of honor...” Sighing he closed his eyes. He hoped, even if it was a small part that you would have agreed. He was scared of losing you,you were his best friend, the woman he loved. He still had flashes of his nightmare, one’s of you drawing the dreaded card.

Of his family sacrificing you, with him being restrained watching them plunge a knife in your heart. He could barley even register you talking, no you weren’t talking you were screaming at someone. A man that looked similar to you...was this the twin brother you mentioned?

“Fuck off Hugh.” Your hand protectively grasped Daniels.

Hearing your voice, Daniel narrowed his eyes as he stepped in front of you doing his best to shield you from your brother.

“You were always attracted to trash y/n though I never thought you’d be the one to fuck a former alcoholic...then again I’m sure knowing who his family is you’d open your legs for anything”

Stepping close to Ransom, it took a lot for Daniel not to deck the man across his smug face. “I don’t care what you say about me...but say one more disgusting comment about y/n and I swear I will knock you on your smug ass.”

Ransom blinked in surprise, he was not expecting that comment though the moment did not last long as he gave Daniel a smug smile. “Hm...I do not know if I like you or not.”

Walking towards his own car, Ransom gave you one last glance before he slipped into his own car driving off.

“What a prick..”

Blinking for a moment you let out a laugh as you reached out to grab his hand. “Hm...I can’t help but agree with you on that but thank you Daniel...for standing up for me.” Giving his cheek a kiss, you then tugged him into your grandfathers home eager for him to meet your grandfather.

“And who did you say you were again?”

Daniel shifted his body as he glanced away from Harlan Thrombey , your grandfather.

“Uh...I am Daniel Le Domas.”God he wished you were by his side, to reassure him but you were to busy talking to Marta.

Harlan’s eyes flashed in surprise for a moment, next was anger but then they went back to his neutral expression. “Ah..yes I’ve heard of your family.” Leaning forward Harlan cleared out his throat. A slow smile forming on his face though it was one that Daniel would call friendly. “You do well to take care of my granddaughter...she’s a good woman...I’d rather not see her die...from a broken heart.

/Die from a broken heart...could he know?...no that would be ridiculous/

Taking a breath in, Daniel shook his head. “I’d never do anything to hurt her...I love her.”

Nodding his head in satisfaction, Harlan cleared out his throat. “Good...now would you be a good lass and grab her for me.”

Letting out his breath, Daniel quickly turned away from your grandfather as he hurried out of the room.

“Y/n...your father wanted to see you.” Glancing at the young nurse he gave her a light smile pressing a kiss to your head. “See you in the car?”

“Of course” Giving him a quick kiss, you then turned your attention to Marta. “Talk to you later?”

“Of course...have fun at the wedding y/n.”Holding back a groan you watched Daniel leave.

“Oh...I’ll try.’

Slipping into your grandfathers study, you wondered what he had to say.

Clapping your hand’s, you gave a happy but teary eyed smile to Grace. You were happy for your friend but you tried to ignore what your grandfather had told you but the news you received from your doctor. /Pregnant...I can’t believe I am pregnant./

“It was a beautiful wedding..”

“It was.” Reaching out, Daniel grasped your hand to reassure himself. Praying that you and Grace would not draw that card.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you gave him a teasing grin. “Wanna have a quickie in one of your many rooms.”You did your best to ignore the look’s his family gave you...the one’s his ex wife gave you.

Once you noticed Alex and Grace were gone you grabbed Daniel’s hand pulling him up from his seat then down the isle, that was until a man, Daniels father stopped him in his path.

“Daniel...aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friend.”

Narrowing his eyes, Daniel gave his father a glare. “She’s not my friend...she’s my girlfriend.”

Looking him over, you bit your tongue holding back a comment. “ I’m Y/n...Y/n Thrombey.”

Tony Le Domas’s eyes went wide for a moment though it vanished once a thin smile formed on his face. “A Thrombey....you don’t say...well enjoy the party Miss Thrombey.”

“I think I will...” Brushing past the man, Daniel let his arm weave around your waist as you two walked away from his father.

Stepping into the mansion you stopped a door in the far off corner. Smiling, you quickened your pace. Giving a quick look around you were pleased to see know one was around, once you saw that the cost was clear you tugged him into a empty room smashing your slips on his own.

“Fuck me.”

“Oh you don’t need to tell me twice.”

A game....who the fuck plays a game at a wedding reception. Leaning on your palm you tried not to show the bored look on your face as each member of the family drew a card. Once it was your turn you rolled your eyes seeing what you got.

/Hide N Seek....what are we five?/

Then one by one everyone showed what that had, you were surprised to hear the card Grace got.

“Hide N Seek?”

But before Grace could say anymore you frowned holding your own card up. “Um I think we need to shuffle the deck...because I got Hide N Seek too.”

Daniel’s ex seemed please but Daniel. The man could feel his stomach drop, his heart squeezing tightly in his chest as your words rang through his ears.

/I got hide an seek too/

#daniel le domas #daniel le domas x reader #knifes out #ready or not #knives out / ready or not #thrombey reader #dabble #drabbles #mini series

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treksickfic · 3 years ago

Text

The City on the Edge of Forever

I’m so excited to share this with you, anonymous requester! After you sent in your prompt, I had another anonymous reader get in touch with me to let me know they’d already written a story that matched your wishes exactly.

The author of this story is French, not a native English speaker, and they’ve written a beautifully touching story that expands on the TOS episode, City on the Edge of Forever. I am posting it here on my blog, with their permission, because they do not wish to have an account nor have their identity attached to the story. This writer has already become dear to me and I’m honored that they trusted me with their writing. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s a long story, nearly 3,000 words, so RIP to your dash if you’re on mobile. I didn’t want to post it on AO3 or anywhere else except my blog, which feels safer.

Trigger warning for panic attack and trigger warning for some mild emeto, if you’re sensitive to that. It’s not very graphic.

“James Kirk, I demand an explanation!”

Scotty, Uhura, the teleportation technicians, and the security guards were completely dumbfounded by the doctor's explosion. They watched the captain stagger off, livid, as if he had been punched in the stomach. He disappeared without a word, with long stiff steps, from the room.

“Jim!” yelled McCoy.

“Not now, doctor.” Spock's cold, dry voice stopped him.

Spock squeezed McCoy’s arm firmly and Scott was sure to read in his black eyes a burst of fury. McCoy noticed it too, because despite the storm of his own eyes, he remained silent.

“Everyone, at your posts,” declared the Vulcan. “Scott, you are in charge for now.”

“Yes, sir.” Scotty nodded, refraining from asking any questions.

As soon as they had come through the Time Gate, seconds after they left, it seemed, but many weeks later for them, he had seen that they were not fine at all. The captain was pale, deaf to their questions, obviously struggling with the tears that filled his eyes. The doctor was just as white, his face contracted with a terrible anger. As for Spock, he kept his eyes fixed on Jim, his usual indifference altered by deep and obvious concern.

What the hell had happened?

This is precisely the question McCoy yelled at Spock, pulling himself brutally out of his grip as they entered his office, safe from prying ears:

“Damn it, Spock!”

“If you calm down, doctor, maybe I could explain.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN? Shit, Spock! How do you want me to calm down?”

“Breathing. Deep, and slowly. Start by sitting down.”

“Don't fuck with me!”

“The Vulcans don't fuck with people. Now, please calm down.”

Jim killed someone without thought. There's no way I can calm down. Shit!”

Spock gritted his teeth and an aura of icy disappointment emanated from him:

“Jim killed someone without thought...do you get along, doctor? You've been aboard this ship for over a year. You even pretend to be the captain's friend. How can you accuse him of this without thinking for two seconds?”

“I saw it ! He prevented me from—"

“--and your poor little mind preferred to give in to this abject emotion rather than try to find a logical explanation. Jim, the most compassionate man we know…would he have acted like this for no reason?”

These words had the effect of a cold shower on McCoy. He shook his head, gradually coming to himself. He hadn't actually thought for a single moment, mired in a nauseating fury that he hadn't even tried to control. Shame replaced anger and he sagged in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

The past few weeks had been a total blur. He had woken up in a room with antique furniture, with an adorable woman at his bedside: Edith Keeler. It had taken him some time to realize that she was neither a hallucination nor a very good actress, but that he was indeed in a different era. Back in the 1930s. And he had barely had time to figure it out and come out of the bedroom to find answers before Jim and Spock, overjoyed, fell on him.

The next second Edith was dead. And it was Kirk's fault., He had kept him from coming to her aid. It had been too much emotion, too quickly and too soon. He had not managed to digest it, even less to understand anything other than what he had seen:

Jim had killed Edith.

But now that Spock had brought him back to reality, it all seemed absurd. And he noticed certain details: His friend's trembling when he held him; the tears in his green eyes when he leaned against the wall; Spock's unusually soft words when he had defended Jim, "he knows doctor, he knows."

How could he have seen nothing? Holding back a moan, he confronted Spock's stern face again:

“Explain it to me.”

“I'll do it quickly. In the timeline of our current story, Edith Keeler dies in 1930. In the one you walked through, paranoid after the cordrazine syringe accident, her ideals of peace and openness reach Roosevelt's ears and America becomes a peaceful country. That prevents its involvement in the second world war. Germany wins and dominates the world. Our time, therefore, does not exist.”

“Oh.”

“By the time you got there, after roughly locating your destination, we got to know Edith. A very charming woman, particularly intelligent.”

“And, Jim—"

“Was deeply in love with her. But for the good of a whole world and not solely himself, he let her die and prevented you from committing irreparable damage.”

“My god.”

McCoy put his head in his hands, overcome with excruciating guilt. Spock watched him, suppressing the harsh words that itched on his lips. The man had realized his mistake. It was useless to add more in the current state. He sighed for a long time, feeling unpleasantly empathetic towards Jim. He admired the way the man had managed to silence all of his instincts to save everyone:

“You should go see him, doctor. I think leaving him alone right now is not the best solution. Especially since he slept and ate very little while we were on earth, and even less after he realized that Edith had to die. He was ill several times during the night. He needs help.”

“Perhaps it is better ... Chapel—”

“No, Leonard,” Spock said, as kindly as he could. “He needs you.”

McCoy let out a deep sigh. He felt silly, and unforgivable. But for the sake of his friend, and indirectly, the sake of the crew, he knew Spock was right. Grabbing his medical equipment, he left in the direction of the captain's quarters.

*****

Jim rested his forehead against the cool edge of the toilet. The doctor's words were circling in his mind, adding further weight to his overwhelming grief. He felt sick, his stomach as tight as his chest. A discomfort that had become familiar over the past few days. The intense nausea that rolled and rolled, threatening at every moment to overflow was a most unpleasant physical manifestation of his stress.

Despite his efforts to conserve food that was already scarce in their daily life in 1930, there were times when he couldn't do anything about it. Nightmares woke him in an agonizing sweat, on the verge of ruining the atrocious coarse cover of their flop.

He managed each time to sneak into the bathroom before returning the meager pittance with spasms he tried to silence. He also appreciated the discretion of Spock, who had the delicacy of pretending to sleep when Jim returned to his bed several minutes later, breathless and exhausted. But now that he was alone, aboard the Enterprise, he had no reason to contain himself, and did not fight the gagging that came out violently, like revenge for being held back so long. His stomach, however empty, kept revolting, replacing his sobs with endless contractions.

He had barely activated the door to his quarters when they had started, and he had yielded to the spasms with some relief. As unpleasant as vomiting was, his whole body tense and sore as he curled up over the toilet, at least it kept him from thinking about it. Being sick kept his mind on constant alert, focusing his attention on the spasms, gasps, bile, burning and kept the fear away. Unbearable, interminable, but ... secondary.

He coughed cautiously, catching his breath, feeling even sicker from the pungent smell that hung around him…the smell as horrible as the way he felt. This place of suffering and abandonment suited him.

He leaned over awkwardly when the bile passed his throat for the umpteenth time and spilled out in a long convulsion. He grabbed his stomach and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the mess coloring the water again. The dizziness began to build, the light becoming unbearable as a migraine took hold of his temples, seeping through to his sinuses. He shivered, trying to reach for the chase to vent some of his weakness, when a hand rested on his forehead. Incredibly cool, it brought such comfort that he could not suppress a fragile sigh.

Tenderly the hand placed a damp cloth on the back of his neck and then finally came to cover his eyes. There was the terribly aggressive sound of the toilet flushing, then a voice whispering for the light to drop to 20%.

That voice ...

His comfort immediately ceased, replaced by anguish. He coughed sharply, spitting out more bile in an effort to shake off the impending grief. He could do nothing against the intense tremors that made him gasp, nor the panicked sob that burst through the vomiting.

“Shhh, Jim.” The voice was a broken whisper. “Shhh, everything is fine.”

Kirk wanted to yell at him to go away, to leave him, not to hurt him anymore. Irrationally afraid of the anger that had rained over him earlier at the prospect of having to face reality. Instead he could only moan, shaken by a horrible, nauseating cough.

Feeling Jim shake and panic under his fingers, McCoy was crushed by an intense wave of guilt. He had seen Jim gripped with grief, stress, drunkenness, anger... but never so completely. It was the first time he seemed ... broken ... and it was largely his fault.

The abnormal heat radiating from his skin indicated a high fever and explained his lack of self control. McCoy took a syringe out of his bag and spoke in a very soft voice so as not to hurt his friend's headaches.

“Jim, I'm going to inject you with a painkiller, it'll help you relax.”

He had no other answer than a small hiccup and a burst of bile.

Nervous vomiting, McCoy noticed. It was serious. He was going to have to play it safe to get the captain to calm down enough to free himself from his sadness and he hoped the hypo would act quickly. He thrust the syringe into his biceps and took advantage of the slight respite that followed to quickly run the medical tricorder over Jim’s upper body.

The latter told him what he already knew: extreme stress, high fever, deficiencies in iron and magnesium, low blood pressure...nothing to indicate a gastric bug apart from weakness due to deficiencies, which reinforced his theory of psychogenic nausea.

McCoy was relieved to find that the sedative had done its work: Jim was shaking less and seemed more lucid.

“Bones...what--?”

Bones. So he didn't blame him. This man's empathy would kill him eventually, the doctor thought. He put a protective arm around the Jim’s shoulders and another under his chest to support him. He could feel the angry stomach muscles that continued to struggle and tighten. He gave a sad little smile.

“We are going to talk about all this. But first, we are going to get out of this horrible room. You need to lie down.”

“Um, that's not safe,” Jim grimaced with a little hiccup.

“I'll take a bucket, but I want you to lie down. Doctor's orders.”

“If it's an o-order,” he stammered, in a slight attempt at humor.

Jim allowed himself to be helped without opening his eyes, too ill to protest, and too weak to fend for himself. Bones almost carried him to his bed.

Once lying down, McCoy carefully removed Jim’s boots and socks, pulled up a wonderfully warm blanket and put a cloth on his forehead. Then Jim heard the familiar whirr of the tricorder passing once more over his body and finally the sound of several mixes. Careful fingers rested on his right temple.

“Can you open your eyes?”

“Urgh, Bones, I'll throw up if I open them.”

“There is a bucket, don't hold back. I need you to look at me.”

Jim groaned but obeyed. The light, even though very dim, made him moan in pain. It penetrated his head like a blade and triggered, as announced, a violent nausea.

McCoy held him very gently as he threw up a thin trickle of bilious saliva. He fell completely exhausted on the pillow once the attack was over. The doctor muttered something unintelligible and wiped his face.

“I should send you to the infirmary, Jim. You have serious deficiencies and that added to the stress...this is a perfect combination for a migraine in due form. I'll put you on an IV to regulate your sugar levels and give you a strong pain reliever. It should help you feel better.”

Once everything was in place, a tactical, hesitant silence settled between them. Jim could feel his presence, sitting on the edge of the bed rather than a chair, and the warm, warm hand pressed to his shoulder. The exhaustion and sadness rose in power now that the disease could no longer build its walls around his mind. He saw Edith again. Edith and her sweetness, her love, her joy, her magnificent ideas.

"She's fair ... but not at the right time," Spock had said, trying to make her listen to reason when he...he told her that she had to...die. He had desperately looked for another way but...but—

He clenched his teeth, overtaken by the intensity of the pain. By the gesture. He had even been unable to look at her body. He had not turned around, refusing to see what he had just done, struck head-on by the horror and disgust emanating from the doctor.

He swallowed, feeling the tremors start again, the despair skyrocketing. McCoy, hearing the gasps in his friend's tight breath, tightened his grip on his shoulder.

“I ... I loved her...Bones—"

A tear gathered in the corner of his eye and he sniffled, trying to pull himself together:

“Jim,” McCoy whispered, his own emotions rising. “I ... I don't even know how to apologize.”

“You have nothing to excuse. You are right. I ... killed her.”

“No. You saved our world. You did what you had to.”

“Oh, you spoke to Spock,” Jim whispered with a bitter smile.

“Yes.”

Despite the darkness, McCoy could see the paleness growing and the captain's face tightening with the effort to hold back the sobs. He searched for a moment for words he could say to alleviate the pain. Not finding them, he shook his head.

Jim tried to speak, with difficulty. “I shouldn't—”

“You have the right to be sad. You just lost the one you love in an act of unimaginable courage. Jim, I'm an overly impulsive old fool, I can't even imagine what you've been through and I sincerely ask forgiveness for this unjustified anger.”

“Please, Bones—"

“No, let me finish. Thank you for your understanding, but you don't have to. I acted like an idiot.”

“You couldn't have known.”

“That's no excuse. I know you and should have taken a step back.”

“What is done is done.”

“Jim, what I'm trying to say is that you must not let my emotionally spoken words get to you. You didn't deserve it.”

“I...I searched and searched...and searched again. I couldn't get away from her even when I knew that—”

“You were in love.”

“No, Bones. I'm in love. A selfish person who regrets choices that he shouldn't regret.”

“You are human, and you are suffering. Let it go.”

Another tear rolled down, then another, and finally it was a torrent that poured into the pillow. The captain put a hand over his mouth to silence the gasps of despair and the overwhelming agony of loss. Bones gripped his shoulder, patting it in a comforting gesture. He watched Jim sob like a child, breathing laboriously through exhaustion and mourning. Then he gradually calmed down until he fell into a deep sleep.

The doctor sighed and wiped away his own tears that had started at the same time as his friend's, and that he had not tried to stop. He readjusted the IVs and scanned Jim’s body for the third time. His fever was still high from a mild viral infection after several weeks in the cold and fatigue undernourishment. Jim would be off for a few days and stay in bed.

When he left the room, the doctor was not surprised to find Spock standing and waiting with arched eyebrows.

“How is he?”

“Exhausted and cold, but fine.”

“Has he been able to express his sorrow?”

“I guess, yes.” McCoy smiled, thinking of his friend's relaxed face as he left the room.

“And were you able to express yours?”

The doctor jumped slightly, not at all prepared for this question, much less for Spock to say it. He was sometimes pleasantly surprised by the well-hidden sensitivity of his Vulcan friend. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it.

“You are about to cry.”

“Damned be your insight, Mister Spock,” the doctor growled, a little annoyed.

“Humans all must cry at one time or another to get better, doctor. I do not understand why you put a manly bulwark in front of this natural mechanism.”

Bones laughed. “Wouldn't you find it embarrassing for me to break down in tears right now in your arms?”

He expected Spock to answer him, "Vulcans don't know the gene, doctor." Instead he replied, in his usual relaxed and serene tone, “If that makes you feel better, no.”

Such compassion was so strange that it almost seemed out of place. Leonard burst out into a frank laugh that turned without realizing it into a flood of tears. Tears of his own sadness this time, not empathy or guilt. Sadness he didn't think he had. Maybe he was also a little in love with Edith after all. And that the Vulcan understood it well before him.

Spock, moreover, did not pretend to leave, contenting himself to stay by his side until McCoy’s tears turned back into laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” the first officer asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, Mister Spock, because I’m thinking of the absurd spectacle we would have made if someone had been there. The ship's doctor weeping like a baby in front of a motionless Vulcan and their captain's closed door.”

Spock coughed and McCoy would swear to anyone who wanted to hear it that he was blushing.

“Well, you're not a hopeless case,” he said with a smirk, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Spock.”

Then he turned on his heel towards the infirmary without hearing the relieved sigh of his alien friend.

#star trek sickfic #sickfic #TOS sickfic #sick kirk #panicked kirk #emotional hurt/comfort #physical hurt/comfort #emeto #tw emeto #tw panic attack

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buckleyy--diazz · 4 years ago

Text

Second untitled Sambucky fic aka Claudia sucks at title but she wants to post her fic so please enjoy some Bucky getting "accidentally" high and Sam being the best as always

(Also please note that I started writing this way before Bucky moved to Delacroix and Sam became Cap so yes they are sharing an apartment in NY, it's not relevant to the story anyway)

Now please, enjoy x

***

Sam woke up to the sound of someone breaking into the apartment he shared with Bucky. His eyes flew open when he heard a loud bang, probably the front door crashing into the wall. His first instinct was to grab the gun he kept in the drawer of his bedside table, you could never be too careful. Immediately Sam thought of Bucky, he needed to protect Bucky. Millions of scenarios were running through his head like what if a rogue HYDRA agent found Bucky and came to kidnap him?

Sam carefully opened his bedroom door and padded along the corridor as silently as possible. Their apartment was silent, too silent and whoever had broken into the apartment was probably waiting around the corner to attack. Sam’s heart was hammering in his chest. He realized Bucky had not moved from his bedroom, the door was closed and he could see the light from the night lamp filtering at the bottom of the door. It wasn’t normal, surely all the noises would have woken up Bucky, Sam knew he was a light sleeper if he slept at all. Sam was hit by a wave of nausea at the thought they already got Bucky.

Suddenly Sam heard a giggle, it seemed like it was coming from the kitchen.

What the fuck?

Sam walked in slowly and turned on the light, hoping to surprise anyone who was in the kitchen and keep the upper hand. Sam was prepared for anything, really. He was prepared to fight HYDRA agents but not the sight of Bucky sitting on the kitchen floor, eating chips and giggling for apparently no reason.

“Sam!,” Bucky yelled excitedly when he noticed him, “Why the gun? Are we in danger?” he asked, laughing.

“What the fuck, man? I thought we were being attacked, I thought someone came here to kidnap you,” Sam whispered-shout because the last thing they needed was to wake up one of their neighbors and for them to call the cops.

“I was hungry,” Bucky replied, ignoring Sam’s little rant. He patted the linoleum floor, motioning Sam to join him. Sam rolled his eyes but he locked the gun and put it away before sitting next to Bucky, his back against the cabinets. Sam winced as the cold floor touched his thighs, reminding him he was half-naked. Sam wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the situation was but he was still half-mad at Bucky for making him worry like that.

“Chips?” Bucky offered and Sam reached for the bag. Bucky giggled again when their fingers brushed through the bag. Something was off. Bucky did not giggle. He laughed sometimes but he did not giggle like a teen girl in front of her crush.

“Buck? Are you high?” Sam questioned, “How the hell did that happen? You cannot even get drunk!”

Bucky nodded, “I didn’t know it was possible,” he explained, “so when Leah offered me a “special” brownie I thought I would not feel anything or that it would wear off as quickly as alcohol.”

Sam shook his head and sighed.

“Who is Leah and why did she offer you drugs?”

“She’s a-,” Bucky hesitated, “she’s a friend, she works at the sushi place. Sometimes we meet up after closing and we play board games and talk.”

“You never mentioned her before, and that doesn’t explain how the drug affected you,” Sam said, trying to push away the jealous feeling growing inside of him. Now was not the time.

“I have no idea, I know the serum can make my body process things like alcohol faster but it can also enhance things so I guess drug is one of the things I won’t be doing again. And Leah, she’s just a friend Sam. She doesn’t know about me, about my past. For her, I’m just James, it’s nice you know.”

Yes, Sam knew. He could relate. Sometimes he missed simply being Sam Wilson, not The Falcon, not The Avenger, just Sam.

“Okay, don’t go all emo on me because you’re high, Barnes,” Sam joked and Bucky glared but there was no heat behind it.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Bucky said, changing the subject so fast it almost gave Sam whiplash. Bucky shuffled closer to Sam, his jeans brushing against Sam’s naked thigh.

“Uh, thanks?” Sam replied.

“You’re badass,” Bucky continued, “you never hesitate when there’s a battle, you’re always ready. You barged in here thinking I was being attacked.”

Sam blushed.

“You believe in me, you believe I can be a good person and that my past does not define me and you believe it so much that I almost believe it too.”

Sam opened his mouth but Bucky cut him off.

“No, let me finish, please. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while and never had the courage. You did not hesitate to start searching for me when Steve asked. You hated me and you still did it because you’re a damn good person Sam Wilson. You saved me and I will forever be grateful for it.”

“Told you to not go all emo on me,” Sam joked, trying to not show Bucky how much his words were affecting him, “but, you’re welcome. I’m happy I saved you.”

Bucky put his hand, the metal one, on Sam’s thigh, Sam shivered unsure if it was because of the cold feeling or because Bucky was touching him and his hand was suddenly very close to his dick.

“I’m done spilling all my feelings on you,” laughed Bucky, “your skin is really soft,” Bucky continued, his fingers tracing circles on Sam’s inner thigh.

“How do you know?” Sam asked, nodding toward the vibranium hand.

“The captors in my arm make it feel almost like my regular hand.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam smirked, “you ever tried on-”

“You’re a pervert Sam Wilson, do you often think about me jerking off?”

“No, I don’t,” Sam lied, hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice and call him out. Truth was, Sam probably thought about Bucky naked and sweaty, his skin flushed and moaning with a hand wrapped tightly around his dick more than it was healthy.

“You’re a shit liar, Wilson,” Bucky whispered, his hand sliding higher on Sam’s thigh. If Sam thought Bucky’s hand was close to his dick earlier, it was nothing like now, and Sam bit the inside of his cheek, reminding himself Bucky was high.

“Look at me, Sam,” Bucky pleaded, his voice soft.

Sam swallowed loudly, he turned his head slowly and Bucky’s face was a few centimeters away.

“I really want to kiss you, Sam.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I- I can’t Buck, I’m sorry.”

In a second Bucky’s hand was off Sam’s thigh and Bucky was storming off the kitchen and despite how fast it happened, Sam had not missed the hurt look in Bucky’s eyes. Bucky’s bedroom door slammed and Sam winced. He felt like an asshole.

Sam got up from the floor and put the bag of chips away. He needed to talk to Bucky, he needed to explain himself. Sam took the gun from the counter and turned off the lights behind him. Once in his room, he put it back in the bedside table drawer and searched for a pair of sweatpants.

Sam knocked gently on Bucky’s bedroom door, calling his name,

“Buck, please, we need to talk. Please, can you open our door, I know you’re not sleeping.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, everything was perfectly clear Sam.”

“No, it’s not, please let me in. I need to see you, I cannot do this through your bedroom door.”

Bucky didn’t say anything and Sam started to walk toward his bedroom, defeated when Bucky opened his door.

“You have five minutes.”

“You’re high-”

“Not so much anymore,” interrupted Bucky, “felt like someone dropped a cold bucket of water on my head ten minutes ago.”

“Let me finish, please. You’re high or were, the point is I really like you Bucky, more than you probably realize, and I really really want to kiss you too. Believe me. But doing this while your judgment is impaired, I cannot do that. Too many people took advantage of you in your life and I won’t be one of these people.”

Bucky blinked but said nothing.

“I said what I needed to say, I’ll go back to my room now.”

Sam turned around and Bucky grabbed his wrist and pulled Sam toward him.

“You’re a good man Sam, too good for me.”

“Believe me when I say it takes me everything to not jump you right now, Buck.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I told you Bucky, I can’t but if tomorrow you still feel the same…”

Bucky nodded.

“Sleep with me? Just sleeping, I swear I’ll be good,” Bucky whispered, his lips moving against the shell of Sam’s ear.

“You’re a demon, Barnes,” Sam replied but he followed Bucky inside the bedroom. He laid down and Bucky took the place next to him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist. They were asleep in a second.

Sam woke up to the sound of birds singing and the sun hitting him in the face. Bucky’s body was still pressed against his and Sam felt warm and content. He could get used to waking up like that.

“You’re staring,” yawned Sam without opening his eyes. How are you feeling today?”

“Very sober,” answered Bucky leaning over Sam, his hands on each side of Sam’s head. Sam finally opened his eyes and Bucky was a few inches away, looking intensely at Sam. Bucky pushed the comforter away and straddled Sam’s hips and Sam swallowed.

“So? Do you still-”

Bucky nodded and Sam couldn’t wait any longer, he brought his hand up, placing it behind Bucky’s neck. Sam smiled softly and gently pressed his lips against Bucky. They were soft and warm and Bucky moaned when Sam slipped his tongue in his mouth. Bucky moved his hand and put it behind Sam’s head, keeping him as close as he could. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating and better than anything Sam had ever imagined. They kissed until their lips felt raw and their stomachs growled. Bucky laughed into the kiss and let himself fall next to Sam.

Sam turned on his side and kissed Bucky again, now that he was allowed to do it he never wanted to stop but their stomachs growled again and Sam sighed.

“How about we make breakfast and then come back here because I am not finished with you,” Bucky said and Sam smiled widely.

“I like the way you think.”

#Sambucky #Winterfalcon #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #TFATWS #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Ficlet #My writing

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eyeofthedrgn · 3 years ago

Text

Rowcan Oneshot - Just Friends

Here's a slightly angsty fluff AU Rowcan piece that I whipped up. I wanted something a little less heavy that A Heavy Battle Symphony. Let me know what you think!

TW: Language, mentions of alcoholism, I think that's it.

Word count: 2648

Just Friends

Lorcan was waiting. He still had two hours, but he didn't have anything else to do. So he waited. Maybe he should turn on a movie or take a nap. Or both.

Laying on the couch, he put on a movie he had seen a million times. The Disney movie Tangled. It was his guilty pleasure. He always felt like he identified with Flynn Ryder. No one knew, though. No one could ever know. So he made sure to set an alarm so he could turn it off before anyone showed up.

He fell asleep shortly after "I Have a Dream." His alarm went off. Lorcan didn't hear it. He only startled awake when he heard the door close. As quickly as he could, he turned off the TV before whoever it was saw the menu screen of the well loved bluray.

"Lor, where you at?" A voice echoed through his small house. Rowan was always the first to arrive. Always punctual. It drove him nuts, but it was also endearing. Hellas, he needed to stop thinking like that. Rowan was his friend. That's it. Friends.

"Living room," he hollered back as he ran his fingers through his shoulder length hair. He pulled the hair tie off his wrist and put his hair up in a messy bun as he walked down the hall to the kitchen where he saw Rowan putting food and drinks in the fridge and shoving a casserole in the oven.

Ah, shit.

He hated watching Rowan acting at home. Actually, he loved it, but they were friends. Just friends. He sighed, the silver haired hottie turned to him then.

"What?" He laughed. “Were you napping?”

"Nothing. No." Lorcan just pushed his feelings deep down like he always did and kept his face stoic. He pushed past the man and opened the fridge to pull out a chilled beer. Apparently, he was going to need it tonight.

"I thought you were trying to quit," Rowan seemed confused. Lorcan was trying to cut down on the alcohol, well... quit, but fuck if it wasn’t hard. It had started to get out of control after he broke it off with Maeve and couldn’t get a grasp on himself and his sexuality. His confusion with his sexuality was a big decision in said break up. But it also helped lead to the drinking. Lorcan had felt lost and didn't know who he was anymore. So the alcohol helped hide his strange feelings for his friend.

Lorcan had been in a long-term relationship with Maeve. She wasn't the best person, he thought he loved her, but she had just manipulated him to do the things she wanted. And she cheated on him. Multiple times. She always managed to get him to forgive her. Every. Single. Time.

He had finally broken it off after seven years. Rowan and his group of friends had finally gotten him to understand that she was a terrible, manipulative person and he deserved better. He had met them at a bar a year before he broke it off with her.

It was also around then that he realized he wasn't straight. He wasn't sure what he was, but Rowan made him feel things that no one else had ever made him feel, even his girlfriend who claimed loved him. The way the man talked to him, comforted him, listened to him, it did things to him. He always wanted to smile around him, but refrained. Lorcan was always the grumpy person in the room, he couldn't ruin his reputation for some guy he shouldn't have feelings for.

After a couple years, he finally decided he needed to cut back. The small intervention from his friends may have also had something to do with it.

"I am. I just," he shrugged, unsure of how to finish his thought.

Rowan just grabbed the beer from him before he could take a drink and gave him a look.

"Fine." Lorcan took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the fridge door. He leaned his forehead against the stainless steel while he waited for his glass to fill. The cool surface helped with the slight warmth trying to flush on his skin. Why did his friends care so much?

A knock on the door sounded before it opened and the hall filled with familiar voices. Suddenly, Lorcan didn't want anyone in his house. He had been fighting his demons the last couple of days, but he couldn't cancel the dinner they had had planned for a month. It had been a long time since they could all get together. He took a big gulp of his non-alcoholic water.

A chorus of hello's sounded as the kitchen quickly filled up. Dishes were placed on the small island, other dishes were put in the warming oven along with Rowan's casserole, and some went into the fridge.

Lorcan slipped out and back to the living room while conversations started. He pulled out his phone, opened up Spotify and connected to his house wide speakers before putting on a chill playlist. It Takes a Fool to Remain Sane quietly filled the house. It was one of his favorite songs.

A few people in the cramped kitchen started singing along as he sat on the couch. He just sighed. Lost in thought, he didn't hear Rowan come in and sit next to him.

"What are you doing in here by yourself?" Rowan nudged their shoulders together. Lorcan closed his eyes at the contact and the small zing that shot through his body.

Friends. They. Are. Friends.

"It's a little crowded in there." Rowan hummed in acknowledgment. Then he bumped their knees together. What the fuck was he doing? Did Rowan know he was being so touchy?

"Food's ready!" The sound of a cupboard opening and plates being pulled out met his ears giving Lorcan the perfect opportunity to get out of this uncomfortably comfortable situation. He stood and quickly went to the kitchen.

Lorcan wasn't even hungry. He was so anxious about what just happened between him and Rowan on the couch, the touches. He had to be imagining it, right?

Fenrys was at the end of the buffet line and he smiled when he saw Lorcan. "Hey, Lor! I forgot how small your kitchen is! Or it's that there's too many people in it!" He laughed. Somehow Fen was always cheery.

"I think it's the latter,” he huffed a laugh.

"I agree. So how have you been? I haven't seen you in a while."

"Fine. Same shit, different day."

Fen just chuckled. "How's sobriety treating you?"

"There are good days and bad days," he shrugged. The conversation cut off as soon as Fenrys had made it to the food.

Everyone had made themselves comfortable in the living room with their plates and beverages. Lorcan finally joined them and he saw that people weren't using coasters on his handmade coffee table.

"Hey, coasters!"

Aelin and Connall apologized while placing their cups on the leather discs. Conversations and laughter flitted through the air. Lorcan was sitting on the floor between the living room and kitchen, just pushing around his food with his fork. It smelled great and looked even better, but his anxiety was making him nauseous.

Someone sat down cross legged next to him, "Are you not feeling good?" Of course it was Rowan. He was always so observant. He just shook his head, hoping that would be the end of it.

Rowan just set his plate on the floor next to him and got up and went back to the kitchen. After hearing some shuffling and cupboards opening and closing and the microwave, he came back with a cup of chamomile tea. "Here. This should help. And yes, I put honey in it, just how you like it," he said with a small smile.

Lorcan's stomach fluttered and it wasn't because of the nausea. He took the mug, their fingers brushing. Fucking Hel.

The evening went on like that, conversations and laughter between his friends, small touches and gestures from Rowan.

Rowan was the last person left. He was in the kitchen putting the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher. Lorcan was grabbing the rest of the cups from the living room. Most people were good about taking their things back to the kitchen, but it was always Fenrys and Vaughan who left their dishes behind.

After setting the final cups on the counter he looked at Rowan as he put some leftovers in the fridge.

"I got it from here. You can head out."

Rowan looked at him with something in his eyes. Disappointment?

"Oh." He shut the fridge. "Uh, I thought maybe we could, uh, talk?"

Lorcan cocked an eyebrow. "About what?" He walked over to the sink and started rinsing glasses. Rowan stood next to him. Next thing he knew Rowan's lips were on his cheek.

He froze. His breathing stopped. Heat flushed up his neck, over his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. After a few moments, he managed to catch his breath, he set the glass down he was holding in the sink and turned off the water. Slowly, he turned to Rowan.

Rowan looked terrified that he just ruined everything.

"Sorry. Sorry, I just.. Sorry." Rowan was flustered, his cheeks were reddening. As he started turning away, Lorcan grabbed his elbow to keep him there. He just looked into Rowan's pine green eyes for several moments. The man in front of him seemed to squirm under his gaze.

"I.." Rowan started, but was cut off by Lorcan's lips against his. His eyes widened before closing and leaning into the kiss. His arms snaked up and wrapped around Lorcan's neck. Lorcan's hands rested gingerly on the other's waist.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Rowan confessed after they broke apart. Lorcan's brow creased in a frown. He had been missing out on kissing this man for how long?!

"How long?"

"Since I met you," Rowan said sheepishly, the blush deepening.

"Well, fuck." Lorcan dropped his hands to his side. "So I've been questioning my sexuality for years since meeting you and you've liked me this whole time?" Rowan just laughed, then hid his face against Lorcan's shoulder. The fluttering in Lorcan's stomach was back.

---

They sat on the couch and talked about everything and nothing all night. Lorcan finally felt free. At home for the first time in his life. Rowan had scooted closer to him throughout the night. It made the corner of Lorcan's mouth lift up every time he got closer.

Soon enough, Rowan was trying his best not to fall asleep on Lorcan's shoulder, but failing. Lorcan shifted and maneuvered them so they were spooning on the cushions, Rowan being the little spoon. He draped the blanket from the back of the couch over them and made sure the silver haired head was on a pillow before he wrapped an arm around the other man's waist. Rowan just wiggled closer and let out a sound of contentment. Lorcan laid there staring at the back of Rowan's neck, eyes tracing the black lines of his tattoo.

Was this happening? Could he be happy? Could he finally be happy? His throat tightened at the thought and his eyes started burning. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing. Failing at calming himself, he silently cried himself to sleep hoping he wouldn’t wake Rowan.

---

The sun filtering through the curtains woke Lorcan before he wanted. He hadn't gotten much sleep. The last time he saw the clock it said 4:37 and it was now 6:30. Two hours was not enough. His eyes stung from being opened too soon.

Rowan seemed to still be asleep in his arms. His breathing was even and he hadn't stirred, so Lorcan tried to go back to sleep. But it never came. He was used to it, sort of, insomnia was his dear old friend.

After another hour or so, Rowan finally stirred. He yawned and stretched then wiggled around until he was facing Lorcan.

"Hi," Rowan's voice was deep and rough with sleep. He placed a soft kiss to the tip of Lorcan's nose and the smile that pulled at his lips couldn't be helped.

"Morning."

Rowan furrowed his brows. "How long have you been awake?" Lorcan just shrugged the shoulder he wasn't lying on. "We could have slept in your bed if that would have helped."

"I have insomnia. Sleep doesn't always happen." Rowan frowned at that.

"Thanks for holding me even though you were probably bored because you couldn't sleep."

Lorcan chuckled, "It was nice." It was. Really nice. Lorcan couldn't remember the last time he had cuddled anyone. And besides his minor breakdown, having Rowan's warm body pressed against him was comfortable and… right.

Rowan smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It was a beautiful site. Lorcan let his eyes drink it in.

"Your eyes aren't black. They're dark chocolate with flakes of dark gold." Rowan sounded surprised. "They're so beautiful."

Beautiful? "What?" No one had ever called any part of him beautiful before. Not even Maeve.

"What? Has no one told you that before?" There wasn't any judgement in Rowan's question, just a hint of sadness. Lorcan just shifted his gaze away across the room. "Well, I think you and your eyes are beautiful."

He took a deep breath and brought his eyes back to settle on green ones. They just stared at each other for a while. Rowan brushed some of the hairs off Lorcan's brow then gently traced the lines of his face with his fingers. Lorcan had never been treated like that. Like he was fragile, like his face was worthy of memorizing by touch. He took a shaky breath as a tear slipped out of his eye and landed on the bridge of his nose before sliding off onto the pillow.

Rowan tangled their legs together and scooted closer. He rested his forehead against Lorcan's and stroked his hair. All of the tenderness Rowan was showing him started to overwhelm him enough that he couldn't hold back the flood gates anymore. A small sob left him, Rowan only held him closer.

After several minutes of crying what felt like eons of pent up emotions, he managed to fall asleep again. Rowan stayed close and watched him, eventually falling asleep himself.

---

Lorcan stretched and groaned before opening his eyes. He was thankful that his couch was comfortable to sleep on.

“Hi, sleepy head.” It seemed that Rowan had been awake for a bit and had decided to sit on the couch with Lorcan’s head on his lap. Lorcan just groaned and turned his face into the other’s stomach. Rowan just laughed at him as he pet his hair.

“Oh no.” Lorcan finally heard what Rowan had been watching on the television. “Mother Knows Best” was sounding through the speakers. He immediately sat up and covered himself as much as he could with the blanket as he made himself as small as possible. Complete and utter embarrassment flooded his veins. Rowan was a giggling mess next to him.

“This is not funny,” Lorcan’s voice was muffled by the blanket.

“Of course not,” Rowan managed to squeak out through his laughter. Lorcan had to admit that he adored that sound and if he had to be a puddle of embarrassment to hear it, then it wasn’t all bad. He peeked out from under the blanket at the pile of giggles next to him. “Come here!” Rowan held his arms out.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Lorcan said sternly, but there was no bite to it.

“Never.” The giggle fit finally calmed down.

Rowan glowed as Lorcan curled up next to him, head once again on his lap as they both watched the movie.

___

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future Rowcan fics!

#rowcan #rowan x lorcan #rowan whitethorn #rowcan fanfic #lorcan salvaterre #throne of glass

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 30

First time reader click here

TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter is a horror movie. There's blood, gore and psychological horror elements. Lemme know if it was actually scary - I'm desensitized to this shit. This was written to come out on Halloween but I was too slow with writing.

Wooden floor creaking behind me, I couldn't feel the cold of it, not even a single splinter piercing the arches of them, I ran like my life depended on it. The darkness behind me was alive; it breathed, pulsated, spreading along the walls of the hallway like mold. The hallway seemed to be endless.

As soon as I realized that, I noticed that it, in fact, did have an end and not a door was in sight; that quickly proved to br also just a trick of the eye - there were doors, the hallway was riddled with them, each one dark, identical and placed neatly about five feet apart. With shaking hands, I turned the knob, slamming the door behind me with a loud bang.

Panting, I let myself slide against the door, eyes closed, sheet landing in a puddle of white fabric on the floor around me. First five seconds passed quietly; then, a noise interrupted my panicked thinking and my eyes flew open as the scene in front of me produced more confusion.

The familiar scene of the pond behind my grandparents' stables, the poppies - a splash of blood red against the dull greens and browns - swaying in the breeze. A Dora the Explorer bucket hat and a six-year-old me, hair in pigtails, poking at a spot of moist soil with a large stick.

I knew where this was going yet I couldn't pull my eyes away from the scene that was going to unfold. A stallion my parents had recently bought, ill-tempered and moody, jumping over the low fence and galloping noisily right at mini-me. The terrified animal was screaming yet I was oblivious to it's distress, too busy trying to fish out earthworms out of the wet ground. Almost in slo-mo, mini-me noticed the running, screaming animal and bolted for safety, its hooves missing my little body barely by a feet.

I felt the cold water of the pond on my skin. It was dirty and blooming at the time, musky smell assaulting my senses, murky water choking the life out of both versions of me. In the distance, I noticed a much younger and slimmer dad sprinting full-speed towards the splashing child in the pond. He was screaming something and I leaned in, trying to hear him better.

The scene vanished into thin, wispy smoke. My head was once again clear and the suffocating dread and panic subsided, letting me take in several deep breaths and try to assess the situation calmly. I had survived that accident, even successfully overcame my fear of swimming later on.

Hands shaking and heart fluttering like a frightened bird, I recoiled from the locked door when it began to rattle, the noise deafening in the eerie quiet of the house.

The shadows were taunting me. Trapping me in my worst fears, making me relive my worst memories. The artifact needed something from me - what was it? I wondered, tucking the sheet in some semblance of a toga and standing up to explore the room. Save for a few outdated pieces of furniture, it was cold and empty, void of life. Nowhere to hide.

I paced the room, coming to a halt next to the heavy, thick velvet curtains. Expecting to see a window behind them, I was surprised with another old wooden door with a bent handle that had gathered an impressive layer of dust. With rattling behind me increasingly growing in volume, I had no other option but to press it down and quickly dart into the next dark room.

Clint. Lifeless eyes wide open, his body laying at my feet, sheet-white and rust coloured stains adorning his mouth, nails black and broken as if he'd been clawing at the dilapidated wooden floors. I backed away from him, further into the room - the archer's body began to move and tremble, tiny little gashes appearing on every inch of exposed skin. The thing that was breaking out of him glowed, pale blue and sickly.

"That's not..." I whispered to myself. "Clint is alive," As if I had been doused with cold water, the images of MAFS incident seeped into my mind, the what-ifs of my past actions weighing heavily and clouding my mind with guilt.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Steph's voice appeared behind my back, loud and out of nowhere. I was rightfully sceptical about the reality of him - while his face was the usual, tense expression of boredom, he stood differently. I couldn't describe the difference if I tried; it just felt wrong. Like a puzzle piece was missing.

"I don't think so, demon dude," Squaring my shoulders once again, I prepared myself for the inevitable pain.

"Who?" The copycat asked, faking concern surprisingly well. "It's the artifact. It's making you see things that aren't real," With a wave of his hand, the door flew open, exposing the hallway filled with the void that was chasing me previously.

"Oh what I saw was real alright," I countered, tilting my head to examine the entity. Unknowingly, it had given itself away - Stephen's magic always glowed gold and orange, in the sense that he wasn't like Loki - Strange's spells were always visible. "I'd rather you kill me then spread your vile disease beyond this... Space," With none of the bravery I actually had, bluff came surprisingly easy. Perhaps, I really was ready to die so my friends and family could live.

Not-Stephen tsked and grinned maliciously, once again waving his hands about. "Killing you? So barbaric and an absolute waste of potential." The shadows pushed something into the gaping hole of the doorway, something curled up in a fetal position and whimpering. The entity picked up the man by the shoulders, forcing him to kneel in front of it, teary baby browns staring back at me, wide with terror.

Tony. My feet took an involuntary step forward, where my Tony was trembling, whimpering in the creature's grasp, unseeing eyes looking straight forward. As if I wasn't there.

"Submit and I will let him go. Right now, he's relieving the worst memories of his life," The entity raised an eyebrow, a mock imitation of Stephen's expression. I could hear Tony mumbling faintly, something about his chest and Afghanistan and bombs and Obadiah.

It pissed me off. Firstly, how dare this wannabe-Pennywise, this LOST-fog-monster-reject to lay his filthy metaphysical fingers on my Tony. And secondly, for the sloppy intelligence job - I had been woken up by Tony's nightmares more than enough to know his biggest fear wasn't Afghanistan. It wasn't Obadiah and it wasn't Bucky killing his parents, it wasn't even the vast, consuming black emptiness of the space behind the wormhole.

Anger burning my throat, I lunged at not-Stephen with a bloodcurdling scream, feeling my nails dig into the cold, clammy flesh of the thing's throat. Taken by surprise, both of us stumbled, falling into the abyss of the hallway, me kicking and scratching and screaming all the way, fingers squeezing deeply into the lifeless imitation of flesh. His screams mixed with mine and Tony's into a shrieking cacophony.

The darkness was laughing, cackling, noise sharp like nails on a chalkboard. It hurt, but the thing's grip on me hurt even more. "He'll never love you like you expect him to. They don't care about you. The mage said he'd help you and now you're dying here, alone," Black smoke began leaking out of the impostor's mouth along with the words, both acrid and venomous.

My head was pounding as more and more of the stuff came into contact with my body. My vision swam, bordering on unconsciousness. "If I'm dying, I'm taking you with me, bitch," I screamed out, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until I exploded together with my surroundings, in a short of white, blinding light.

And then, there was darkness. My limbs were once again filled with concrete, mouth dry and skin burning like I'd been branded with a hot iron.

I opened my eyes to the familiar sight of the room with the fireplace. The fire was roaring, crackling and and shooting noisy sparks, accompanied by heavy breathing to my left. Disregarding the nausea that followed my every movement, I hung my head over the side of the car coming to witness both sorcerers laying haphazardly on the floor, a thin river of blood seeping into the carpet from Wong's head.

Confused, disoriented and terrified, I called out for them, voice barely audible and terse. Had I been screaming?

The sorcerers' chests rose and fell rapidly; my panic subsided but not by much. I crawled out of the cot only to land ungracefully on my face, body refusing to cooperate and feeling about as well as after I'd ran a marathon. Inch by inch, I crawled over to the chair I had left my things on, fighting with my body for every movement I made.

Fumbling, l pulled out my phone and pressed the green call button on the one person one would call in this situation. My best friend.

"Yes, dear?" His baritone was tense but nonetheless calm.

"Help, some-something happened," I managed to say, no louder than a whisper. "Sanctum," I clarified, hearing a noise of things falling over and several distressed voices shouting in the background.

"I am coming, do not end the call," Loki replied immediately, barking out several commands I didn't quite catch. There were more noises of distress as I obediently stayed on the phone. "Darling, can you tell me what happened?"

"I- Killed?" I tried to articulate my thoughts, tongue becoming more and more uncooperative by the second.

"Oh my God, who's dead?!" I heard Bruce yell, probably, right in Loki's ear.

"The Thing," I clarified, hoping to calm him down.

Loki cursed in his native language, I heard him trying to wrestle the phone from someone - unsuccessfully so, I might say, as Tony's distraught voice was the next thing I heard. "Princess, listen to me. Are you okay? Where's Strange? We're gonna be there in 10 minutes. We're coming."

An avalanche of information for my overtaxed brain and aching body, I struggled to keep up with Tony's rambling and filtering out Loki's screeching in the background. So much noise. My head hurt. "No, Steph and Wong are down. Alive." I managed to convey the most important part, a terrified sob leaving my chest burning. "Please, talk," I begged Tony, not wanting to be left in that terrifying, consuming silence ever again.

And Tony talked. He babbled nonstop, things that I didn't really catch neither care about, having enough strength to give a hum of approval every few seconds or so. It appeared to be as calming to him as it was to me, I didn't hear any more complaints from the team, only brief increase in volume as one of them got closer to the phone. A part of me conceded I should've made at least one joke about being put on loudspeaker, however, my brain was exhausted.

Burnt out, rather. The emptiness settled in my bones, chilly, like the blood had been sucked out of me, making my body just a vessel for the darkness that stalked my nightmares. I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my bare thigh, feeling none of the pain, just the relief when blood seeped through the cuts, crimson and warm.

That's how they found me. Loki threw open the door, breaking one of the hinges, eyes immediately darting between me and the laying sorcerers, as he swiftly cast a bright golden spell on the room, warming us from the inside out. Carefully stepping over the two men, Loki kneeled in front of me, green eyes staring right into mine.

I heard cursing and thudding but all I could focus on was the shining emerald of Loki's eyes. "Oh, child," He whispered, reaching out with both arms to pull me into his chest. I couldn't have resisted even if I wanted to, my body was utterly drained of fight.

"What happened?" Tony asked, a hysterical pitch to his voice.

"I can assume there was a failsafe left behind by the artifact, it took out both sorcerers and attempted to finish the job it started," Loki spoke up, hand gently petting my hair, still clutching my limp body like I was dying. "She fought it off, I don't know how, but she fought it off. It has entered a dormant state again."

"What do you mean took them all out?" In his distress, Tony seemed to have lost all sensibility. "What happened to her?!" He was getting impatient, angry.

"With an artifact like that, it's a blessing they are still alive. It is ancient and unpredictable," Loki explained patiently, none of his usual vitriol present. "And she... You could say she was mind-raped," He stated, quieter.

I groaned in protest. Loki's spell of gold did what felt like a wonder: the light was slowly coming back into the room, into me, filling me with warmth I didn't know I could lack. "As if," I slurred. "As if that Pennywise wannabe could ever," My body was, nonetheless, exhausted. "I've swallowed more kids than he could ever," My eyelids dropped, the comforting noise of Tony's and Loki's combined chuckle amplifying the surplus of warmth within me.

Last thing I saw was Tony's watery smile, tears crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he lifted me from Loki's arms, hot rod red of his suit saturating the room with color. Feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever, I let my eyes close voluntarily, a smile crawling onto my face. I was right. Tony was alright, it wasn't really him that was getting tortured in the nightmare-verse.

"What..." I heard Stephen croak from somewhere. "Baby?!" His voice raised a whole octave; Thor's fond chuckle followed the rustling of fabric and a few stronger choice words from the sorcerer as Loki briefed everyone on the situation at hand.

"How is she, Tones?" Bruce asked quietly from above me.

"Pretty out of it but on her way back to health," Tony replied with another watery laugh. "Cracking jokes and whatnot clownery."

Bruce exhaled in relief, stroking my face with the side of his fingers. It was almost palpable, the general atmosphere of respite in the room, the sudden free flow of oxygen to my lungs.

"I am so sorry," Stephen's whisper was more felt than heard by me; the spice of his cologne and copper of blood reached my nostrils, burning them, keeping the warmth from leaving my body ever again.

My fingers weakly held out to him, finally coming to grasp his more-than-usual shaking hand. "Not your fault," I breathed. "Persistent cursed box," Were my last words before my consciousness gave out. Sleep sweet sleep.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #stephen strange x you #bun writes

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ylizam · 3 years ago

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is WIP amnesty still a thing?

anyway, here is a scene from the Beverly/Will/Deanna thing I spent way too much time thinking about in the existential sense of, “hmm, what if Beverly shows up right after Picard left” and “how do we deal with Picard-era JLP not being quite right?” and “oh of course they’ve been a long-term long-distance thing and Will bakes comfort foods and Deanna understands Beverly in a way that makes Beverly Uncomfortable sometimes and it’s both soft and also hard-as-in-difficult and prickly but also important and loving and when Beverly goes back to her ship to save the galaxy from pandemics and whatnot she thinks back to their arms as home,” and not enough time actually figuring any sort of plot or writing anything god forbid. so!

“You just missed him, you know.” Deanna smiles when she says it, though, gentle and not actually chiding. Beverly drops her bag on the ground. Steps into Deanna’s open arms for a very necessary hug.

“I know,” Beverly says, when she finally settles into the safety of Deanna’s arms. “Laris called to let me know he’d left on some sort of epic quest, and to shoot him for her if I saw him. And then Will warned me he was actually here. Although I’m still not entirely sure whether he was trying to tell me to take my time or to push warp nine.”

“Neither,” Deanna says. She releases Beverly, but mostly so she can make sure to maintain eye contact. “Or both. Either. I think Will was mostly telling you to do what you needed to do, and that we’d support you in that choice, in that Will way of his.”

Beverly lifts her bag and hitches it on her shoulder. “Well, in the end, Cardassia made the decision for me. We got stuck dealing with another outbreak in Lakarian City, and there was a mandatory quarantine period even I couldn’t get us out of.”

“Jean-Luc, he’s,” Deanna says.

“I know.” Beverly may not be his treating physician anymore, may barely even merit the title of friend these days—more his fault than hers this go-around, but they’ve both had their turns at fucking things up—but she’s seen his medical records recently enough to know that his brain’s a ticking time bomb.

“I think he’s enjoying this opportunity for one last great adventure.” Deanna is careful, gentle, kind to everyone involved in this mess; she’s a fierce protector to all of them, and Beverly chafes at the feeling that Deanna’s trying to handle her. To handle them.

“I’m glad,” Beverly snaps.

Deanna grasps Beverly’s empty hand. “You’ve every right to be angry with him,” she says.

“Oh, I am. But”—and how to explain this? She doesn’t even fully understand it herself, and it’s her own damned brain—“I’d rather he go out in a blaze of glory than continue to hide himself away in France waiting to die. Although I think he really hurt Laris when he left; he can be so unthinkingly callous when he has a mission to plan.”

She just wishes he’d thought to say goodbye to her as part of his grand farewell tour. (Even a message, a letter, something left with Will and Deanna or sent through subspace to her ship. She’s not difficult to find, and they’d been so close, for such a large part of her life. For him to head off to tilt at one last windmill, to run toward certain death, without a word? And the worst of it is that he probably didn’t mean to hurt her. To hurt any of them. He had a quest, after all.)

Deanna doesn’t respond (to either her words or her obvious emotional turmoil). They make their way through the woods; Beverly can’t hear her, can’t see her through the leaves and foliage, but she can feel the comforting presence of Kestra following behind them, probably dragging some sort of dead animal with her for dinner.

“How’s Will taking it?” Beverly asks.

“About as well as you are,” Deanna answers. “Or I am. He’s Jean-Luc, and he’s going off to fight some sort of cosmic evil without any of us at his back, all while—“

“—dying,” Beverly says. Fuck.

“Yes.” Deanna stops then, still about another ten minutes from the house, and turns back to Beverly. “With a new crew and a new mission.”

“I am so angry at him, Deanna.” She kicks at a cluster of stones. Takes no small amount of pleasure at the sound of the cracking against one another. And then it hits her: “Shit, do you know if he’s told anyone else—Worf, Geordi, anyone?—or are they going to find out when the obituary hits the news?”

“He didn’t say,” Deanna says. “I only know he didn’t tell you because you’ve told me as much.”

“I’ll call them—“

“We’ll call them,” Deanna says. “After dinner, after a few drinks, maybe some of the chocolate cake Will baked last night.”

“I could kill him myself.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

Beverly feels like her entire body deflates. The air punched out of her.

“I hate that you know that,” she says. She reaches for Deanna this time, steps close enough to lean down and press a soft kiss to her mouth. “That you know me well enough to know that I’m mostly bark.”

“Ah,” Deanna says. She kisses Beverly once, twice, quickly, and then takes her hand again. “But when you do bite, it is always deadly.”

Beverly pulls her back. This time the kiss is anything but short, anything but gentle. Her hands gravitate to Deanna’s hair, to the back of her head, to her ears and neck and back to her hair. She nips at Deanna’s lower lip.

“Ew,” Kestra says. Beverly jumps back, thinks Kestra’s voice is coming from above. She looks around, but can’t see anything but nature. She’d think she was imagining it, but then Kestra adds, “I’m right here.”

And then she jumps down in front of them. An animal Beverly doesn’t recognize is strung up in what she assumes is Kestra’s standard hunting gear, her bow and arrows in a quiver on her back.

“Is that for dinner?” Beverly asks.

“Nah,” Kestra says. “We’ll cure it, make bacon from it.”

“Oh.”

“It’s better that way,” Kestra says. “It’s too tough otherwise.”

“I stand corrected then,” Beverly says.

She feels a little judged, but she’s never pretended that a detailed knowledge of the local flora and fauna of Nepenthe are a particular strength of hers. General survival, yes; the edible plant life on any number of Federation worlds, also yes. But she’s never spent more than a few months here at a time, and at first, well. There was Thad.

She’d been so cocky. So sure that, given the opportunity, she’d be able to find a cure that didn’t require artificial life. And she could therefore tell Kestra which barks make a tea so noxious that everyone in a five kilometer radius would feel dizzy, faint, and that there are fungi on the eastern shore of the lake that could stave off nausea. But food, no, that had been Will’s particular interest: he’d cook, and bake, and feed them all in the panicked hope (and growing despair) that they might be able to save his son.

“Come on,” Deanna says, interrupting her spiraling guilt. “Will’s probably starting to worry.”

“Right,” Beverly says.

Kestra rolls her eyes, but Beverly thinks she’s secretly a little pleased about her father’s very obvious love. She darts ahead of them—so fast, so young, so alive.

“Come on,” she calls back, “I smell pizza!”

#a thing that i wrote #wip amnesty #star trek: the next generation #star trek: picard #beverly crusher #will riker #deanna troi #beverly x will x deanna #anyway maybe i'll clean it up and put it on ao3 one day #and maybe i won't #who can even say

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

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there are ghosts in the sky, iii

iii. but can you save a dying sun?

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 15.0k

Warnings: angst, fighting, violence, death, anxiety, mentions of nausea/puking, language.

Summary: a battle for your body and a battle for Sanctum results in shocking causalities, both battles ending in a way you could have never guessed.

a/n: here it is!!! part 3 is here, this au is finished!!! this marks the end of the sub rosa universe (for now), and I have a lot of feelings about that. mostly I am just grateful to all of you, and I hope you’ll stick around to read my next series/other new works! if you would like your sub rosa tag to be converted to a general bellamy blake x reader tag, please let me know!

p.s. sorry for the late in the day upload today, life has been crazy and the day got away from me!!!

au series masterlist // sub rosa masterlist // full masterlist

You only catch bits and pieces of what’s happening outside of your body, but as the barrier between your mind and Josephine’s continues to break down further, you’re able to hear more and more of the outside world. In between catching information from outside of your body, you keep yourself inside Josephine’s side of the mindspace. You know that it’s only going to break down your minds faster, but you’re desperate for information you can use against her later, so you use your downtime to scour through her memories in search of something useful. By the end of your research, the only thing you know for sure is that Josephine is awful, and she doesn’t deserve your body, let alone to resurrect again.

You can tell a few hours have passed since your initial Morse Code attempt, and you weren't sure at first if it worked.

That is, until you heard Josephine begging someone to kick you out of your own head. There’s not much you can do other than wait around and hope that someone is trying to save your life, and you finally get that confirmation later on when you catch onto the tailend of a conversation between Josephine, Clarke, and Bellamy. You’ve gathered enough bits and pieces to know that all four of you are currently being held captive by the Children of Gabriel, and the other three are using the time to ‘bond’, if you can actually call it that. Josephine is moaning about the tragedy of her relationship with Gabriel, and you push the stack of memory books out of your lap and to the side, running from the memory space and into the hidden diner.

You ignore the patrons and head straight for the Christmas lights again, tugging them down and calling out, “Monty!”

He runs into the diner, looking at you in alarm. “What is it?”

“Morse Code, I need your help. How do you say boohoo?”

His nose scrunches as he looks at you in confusion, “Boohoo?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It doesn't matter why, just please tell me what it is!”

He shrugs and grabs the paper and pen you’re holding out to him, thinking for a second before he quickly writes out the message. When he passes it to you, you give him a smile of thanks, listening as Josephine mutters, “I've been in love with Gabriel for 236 years, the last 70 of which he's been trying to kill me. You know, relationships.”

You start working on your light, signaling out the code Monty gave you.

—●●● B

— — — O

●●●● H

— — — O

You can hear Josephine translating the letters for Clarke and Bellamy, before she ends the quip with, “That's harsh.”

You can catch glimpses of your twin’s broken voice questioning the woman who stole your body, hope entwined with her words. “She can hear us?”

“It would seem so. Which means the wall separating our minds is almost gone.” You look around you, at the diner in Josephine’s mind, realizing that parts of it are already starting to fade. Panicked, you run out of the room and back to your side, slamming the red door behind you as you go. “When that happens, she'll stroke out, I'll download, and you can say goodbye to your genocidal fiance and sister.”

You can hear Bellamy’s voice next, thick with emotion. “Let me talk to her.”

“I'd have to give over control for that, so no.”

“But she can hear me?”

“Yes, she can hear you. For God's sake, just say what you want to say.” Josephine sighs, seeming to sense that Bellamy has something he wants to say to you. You stand waiting and listening, eager to hear his message to you.

His message hits you harder than anything he’s ever said to you before this, his voice so broken and mixed with hope when he answers, “I won't let you die.”

Tears instantly spring to your eyes, and you collapse to the floor of the Ark, letting the tears fall down your face as you process Bellamy’s message to you. I won't let you die. You know he means it, and you know that your odds of survival are good with both him and Clarke on your side, both of them desperate to save your life. The moment fills you with hope, and you sit crying alone in the Ark, waiting for your family to save you.

Everything seems fine until it’s not.

You can tell that something has changed, sensing the stress within your own body, accompanied by the overlapping din of voices above you. You can't make out any of the words, but you don't have to wonder for long, because as you sit in the hall of the Ark, Josephine suddenly bursts through her red door and heads straight to you. She looks panicked, her eyes wide, and you pull yourself to your feet quickly as you sense the incoming danger. “What? What is it?”

“They’re about to chop our head off! I need you to take control so we can live.”

You don't have time to answer her, because she turns to her right and types in a code for a locked door, before grabbing your arm and shoving you through. As usual, you are blinded by a flash of white light and then your eyes open and clear, locked on a gray stone wall. Your heart rate picks up when you realize that you’re back in control of your own body, but you’re also dangerously close to losing your life. Your head is being pressed into a stone, and your hands are being held behind your back, and as everything comes into focus, you hear someone say, “The answer is death to Primes.”

You sense movement to your right, and you call out, “Wait!”

You can tell that the person to your right, the one who intends to cut off your head, freezes, and you work on buying yourself some time. “Gabriel loves her, is this what he would want?”

Your words seem to be the wrong ones, because the man yells out, “Don't you use his name!”

And then you sense his movement again. This time, though, you’re ready for it. As he lifts the sword and swings it around to cut off your head, you kick out at the man holding you in place. Your foot connects with the space by his knee, and you can tell that his leg is broken by the sound alone. He releases you, giving you just enough space to avoid the sword that is coming towards you, which clangs against the rock instead. The man looks down in shock, and you use that to your advantage, grabbing his arm and his other shoulder and pulling him down, smashing his head into the rock.

You grab his fallen sword and turn and swing at the man with the broken leg, cutting his throat, and as you look up you see a final person coming towards you. The woman moves towards you and you stalk over to her, swinging the sword out and cutting her neck before she can even comprehend your movements. She hits the ground and you stand in place for a second, panting, trying to catch your breath, brought back to reality by your fiance calling your name.

You look up and meet his eyes, his expression so hopeful, and Clarke watches on, equally as full of hope. You drop the sword and run across the room, grabbing his face with both hands and pulling him into a kiss. You pull away, both of you with tears in your eyes, before you step over to your twin and pull her into a hug, the two of you laugh crying with relief. You only pull away when you hear the sound of approaching voices, and you spin back towards the man who was going to kill you, grabbing the set of keys off of his belt before running back to your fiance and twin.

You quickly try to uncuff them both, but your hands are shaking and anxiety is pulsing through you as the voices grow closer. Bellamy and Clarke are both watching you closely, and Bellamy puts his hand over yours to still your movements. “We don't have time, you have to run!”

You look up at him in alarm, shaking your head sharply. “No! I’m not leaving either of you.”

Clarke reaches out for you, her hand grabbing your wrist, encouraging you to look at her. “Bellamy’s right, there’s no time. Go find Gabriel.”

You look between then both, panicked, but the approaching voices only grow closer, signalling your ticking clock. And you hate that you know they’re right, and you hate the idea of leaving them both, but you know all of your odds are better if you do. Which is why you give them both one last look, the voices just around the corner now, before Bellamy panics and pushes you away, “Go!”

You leave the keys in his hand and you take off running, pushing hard to outrun the voices that seem right at your back. You tear through the woods, leaves and branches smacking you as you go, but you ignore them, trying to put as much distance between you and the Children of Gabriel as you can. You can hear them closing in on you, led by the man that nearly killed you, and you pause and duck behind a tree, trying to catch your breath. You start to run numbers in your head, wondering how many you can reasonably take out before they take you out, and just when you deduce that there are too many of them and not enough of you, you hear the roar of a motorcycle, signaling Sanctum’s arrival.

You look up, watching as the bikes weave between the trees, and you take off running again, choosing the lesser of two evils, heading straight for the riders. As you move, you scream at the top of your lungs, “Here! I’m here!”

The Sanctum riders fly towards you, pulling up to a stop and grabbing their guns, aiming at the group of people right behind you. As you grow closer to the Sanctum riders, the Children of Gabriel grow closer to you, this game of cat and mouse getting a little too close for your liking. When you’re within a few feet of the riders, Jade, Josephine’s guard, yells out, “Down! Get down!”

You drop to the ground without hesitation, covering your head with your hands, hearing bullets whiz by over head. Someone drops to the ground behind you, landing on your legs, but you don't dare to move until you hear the shooting stop. Finally it does, and you hear Jade shout orders to the others, “I’ve got her, you get the rest!”

You hear three motorcycles drive off, leaving you alone with Jade, and you almost shake your head at how perfect this is starting to play out for you. Because when Jade grabs you and helps you to your feet, you lift a large rock and bring it with you, turning and knocking her out before you’ve even stood to your full height. As you drop the rock, you nearly jump out of your skin when a voice behind you mutters, “Really? She just saved your life.”

You spin around quickly, locking eyes with Josephine, who is standing feet from you, a look of disappointment on her face. But you ignore that and focus on the fact that she is standing right in front of you, outside of the mindspace. “Why can I see you?”

“Because it's getting worse, like I said it would. Look, what you did back there was awesome, but don't let it be for nothing. Give me back control.”

You ignore her, knowing damn well that you have no intention of giving your body back to her. Because it is your body. And despite the panic that courses through you as you realize that you are likely nearing the last few hours of your life, you turn away from Josephine and grab the radio off of Jade’s side. Josephine mutters under her breath, “I'll just get it anyway when you fall asleep.”

But when she sees the radio in your hand, she looks at you in confusion. “What are you doing now?”

You continue to ignore her and lift the radio in your hand, remembering one of Josephine’s memories that you discovered earlier in the evening. Josephine sits in front of her father, anxiously twirling her hair. Russell cuts her a look, but lets the habit slide as he delivers the news. “Spies from Sanctum discovered a camp, just on the verge of the anomaly. There’s a sculpture of radios, which they suspect is how the COGs get messages to Gabriel.” You press the button of the radio and keep your eyes locked on Josephine as you say your name and add, “Gabriel, you don't know me, but I need your help. Josephine Lightbourne is in my head. If you can hear this, we're coming to you.”

You stalk past her and head back to the bike, and she follows you the entire time, pleading to your back. “This is insane. He didn't respond to their call, he's probably dead. Please, let's just go back to Sanctum.”

You grab Jade’s discarded helmet and lift the motorcycle, as Josephine crosses her arms and glares at you. “I'll drive. But for that, you do have to give me back control.”

You swing your leg over the bike as she protests, “You don't know how to-”

You cut her off by starting the bike and revving the engine, another useful memory you have stolen from Josephine’s head. Her glare gets angrier as she watches you, “What else of mine have you stolen?”

You smirk and answer her in Mandarin, “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

And then you pull the helmet onto your head, and drive off, leaving her behind in a cloud of dust.

You drive for a while before crashing, thanks to Josephine, destroying your radio in the process. Lucky for you, Josephine knows a place for you to hide, leading you to a bunch of old research outposts nearby. Unlucky for you, you have a seizure almost as soon as you climb down into the outpost, your brain struggling to keep up with the data from two minds.

You have never been more disappointed to wake up in your mindspace, though you’re not sure if that's because of the small taste of control that you got to experience, or the fact that your mind is clearly in disarray. You wake up in your room, surrounded by memories stashed inside of books, but none of them are yours. And as you wander into the hallway, you see that it’s much worse than that. Books are stacked on nearly every available inch of flooring that you can see, and projections from Josephine’s memories wander the halls in various emotional states. Some are angry, some are sad, some are distressed, but all of them are a problem.

You find Josephine not long after wandering from your room, catching as she walks past you absentmindedly. With the two of you reunited, you briefly consider killing her and ending all of this once and for all, but her response makes you pause. She glares at you, just as annoyed at this entire situation as you are, before she bites back your earlier words to her, “Go float yourself.”

The words give you an idea, a way to save the two of you from your approaching destruction, and you and Josephine run around frantically, trying to float her memories to hold off the impending demise of your brain. You only do a few at first, allowing her to pick the memories that she wants to lose, but soon that has to be abandoned in favor of an all out destruction of property. You rig up the outer doors to vent everything in ten seconds, Josephine’s memories now heavily integrated into your own at this point, both of you well past the point of no return.

You and Josephine head back to your room, into the place you shared with Bellamy, the only room safe from the venting into space that is occurring outside your door. You know it works when Josephine disappears, leaving you alone in your mindspace again. You start to panic, wondering if this is it for you, if Josephine really will make it out of here with control of your body, leaving you to truly die. Just as you really start to spiral into a panic, you catch a pair of voices outside, one familiar, one not.

Josephine refers to the unfamiliar voice as Gabriel, and you almost cry in relief when you realize that somehow he found you after all. He's not dead, and he’s here to get his ex lover out of your head. Josephine confirms the familiar voice seconds later when she greets Blodreina, and you smile at the fact that somehow Octavia is alive and she’s here to help you.

Of course, chaos reigns supreme on this damn moon that you hate so much, because as soon as the four of you exit the research outpost, Josephine calls out for the Sanctum guards nearby, begging to be taken back to Sanctum. Gabriel argues and says that Josephine's body, your body, is on the brink of death, and he has to save you now, because neither of you will make it back there. But of course, the guards don't care, and just when Gabriel and Octavia are on the brink of death, they are saved by Bellamy and Clarke, a turn of events that leaves you incredibly thankful to have them in your life.

Unfortunately, Gabriel’s prediction about your impending death is correct, because Josephine collapses, your legs going numb and giving out beneath her, and Gabriel catches her and whisks her away back to his camp. Clarke, Octavia, and Bellamy follow, and before you know it, you can hear the steady beeping of a heart rate monitor, along with the increasingly clear voices outside of your head. Josephine makes a last ditch plea to save herself and wipe you instead, but thankfully Gabriel ignores her and stops your heart.

They quickly work to remove the mind drive in your head and then restart your heart again, which should put you back in control. You see the door to Josephine’s side crack and explode, the wall now turning into just another wall of the Ark. You wait patiently, knowing that means that the mind drive is gone, but instead of waking back up in the real world, you remain trapped in your own head. You look around in confusion, wondering why your heart is still stopped, and why you’re still staring at the walls of the Ark. “Wait. Why am I still here?”

“Because I'm still here.” You turn around in confusion, now facing Josephine, and you have a split second to register the axe in her hand before she swings it towards you, cutting your neck. You reach up and grab your wound, light shining between your fingers, as you shake and gasp and watch the enemy in your head. She drops the axe and it tumbles and lands near your side as she mutters, “Sanctum is mine.”

She looks down at your struggling form with a smirk. “I used the surgical mesh. I'm sorry about the whole working together thing, but I know you, Wanlida. If you came back, you'd kill everyone inside Sanctum. It's what you do.”

You struggle to focus on her words as you realize that your version of bleeding out in your mindspace is visually a lot different than bleeding out in the real world. But the pain and the struggle and the suffering, those are all just as real as the world outside of your head. Josephine kneels down across from you, still smirking, watching as you quickly die. She only turns away when another voice outside of your body, Gabriel’s, tells the others, “I'm sorry, but her brain can no longer support two minds.”

You can hear a counter protest, though your mind struggles to decipher the words, only able to unilaterally focus on the pain radiating out from your neck. And as you sit there dying, you can't help but think about how cruel this is. You survived your initial attempted murder, only for this to be the way you go out? In your own head, and watched on by your body snatcher, no less. But as the seconds pass by and you wait for your death, you realize that at least one person is unwilling to let you go. Clarke’s voice reaches you from outside of your mindspace, calling your name, her voice broken and hurting and desperate. “I can't lose you again, la lune! I need you. Bellamy needs you. Madi needs you. Mom needs you. Now wake up!”

You listen to your twin’s broken cries, quickly replaced by the broken cries from the love of your life as he begs you to fight for your life. “I should have fought harder for you. I should have burned Sanctum to the ground and killed everyone that got in my way, but I’m fighting for you now, god damn it! You're a fighter. Now wake up and fight!”

And as soon as he says it, you know he’s right. You told Josephine yourself that you don't go down without a fight, and you meant it. You’re not dead yet and you’re not going to let her win. Josephine seems to listen on with mild amusement, surely plotting the dramatic return she wants to make as soon as you officially die, but unfortunately for her, it's not a return she gets to make. Because you eye the abandoned axe, discarded and sitting right next to you, and you pull one of your hands away from your light bleeding neck and reach for it. The blade scrapes against the floor as you lift it, drawing Josephine’s attention towards you, and this time she’s the one who has a split second to process the current events before you throw the axe right at her center mass, shattering her projection into a million pieces.

And as soon as you do, it’s like a switch flips, because you take in a large, wheezing breath, pulling your eyes open in alarm, feeling nothing but panic. But there are two sets of hands caressing your face, two voices soothing you as you struggle to catch your breath, two familiar faces watching you closely as they look between you. Clarke is the closest to you, and she tentatively whispers your name, searching for any sign that you are really you. And you respond in the only way you think you can by sitting up and pulling her into your arms, holding her tighter than you’ve ever held her before. She’s crying, you’re crying, the Blake’s are crying, and even Gabriel is crying, though for different reasons.

Clarke releases you so Bellamy can grab you, tugging your face towards him and pressing the most loving kiss to your lips, his mouth telling you everything he wants to say to you in the moment. You kiss him back just as hard, incredibly thankful that you won over Josephine, gaining back control of your body once and for all. And though your heart goes out to Gabriel, you can’t help but be thankful that Josephine is forever gone.

In true ‘chaos of Sanctum’ fashion, it turns out that everyone else that you know and love has been left behind in Sanctum and are now likely in danger. And it turns out that Bellamy’s plan to save everyone was to use Josephine’s mind drive to bargain with Russell, using the life of Josephine for the lives of your people. And it turns out that the very same mind drive that was meant to save your people is now empty, because you vented all of Josephine’s memories, and she jumped ship in order to kill you and take your body instead. Too bad for her that you came out on top.

You make the suggestion of going back to Sanctum as Josephine and freeing your people yourself, but you are swiftly shot down by both Clarke and Bellamy. Which sends all of you back to the drawing board, brainstorming ways to save everyone and inflict minimal casualties. That drawing board, however, is taken over by Gabriel’s Children, who all seem a little too eager to kill all of you, with you and Gabriel at the top of their lists. Thanks to some split second decision making on Bellamy’s part, he figures out a plan that gets everyone what they want: you save your people, the Children of Gabriel get to kill Primes, Gabriel gets to save the rest of his people inside Sanctum. Bellamy’s plan, however, gets him and Octavia sent on a supply gathering mission, leaving you, Gabriel, and Clarke behind.

During which time, you propose to change the plan, a little uneager to release a bomb that will get innocent people killed, this new genocide reminding you a little too much of Mount Weather. And Clarke disagrees at first, uneager to see you march right back to the devil’s side without any back up. But it’s easy for you to convince her, because she's your twin, your other half, and she gets it. She may hate every second of it, but she understands completely the fears you posses about having to carry the weight of another genocide within you. More than that, she trusts you. She knows that you can get the job done and come out of the other side unharmed, which is why ultimately, she agrees.

Once the Blake siblings return, Gabriel breaks the news to them about the change of plans. Octavia doesn't seem to understand why this is a big deal at first, but Bellamy catches on right away. He turns to you with a glare, shaking his head sharply. “No. No way.”

You look at him with pleading eyes, trying to get him to understand why this plan has to happen. “Bellamy, it's the only way.”

“It's not the only way, because we’ll use the bomb as planned. Risking your life when we don't have to is just-”

You cut him off, finishing his sentence, “Is how we do better. Bellamy, I know you’re worried about losing me again, and trust me, I’m terrified to go back there and do this, but I have to. This is how we save lives, and prevent innocent ones from being taken. I know you, and I know you care about that too. If I go in as Josephine and shut down the shield, then Gabriel only needs to use enough red sun toxin to trigger the alarms and kill a few bugs. All of those people, innocent people, will be safe.”

He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration, before turning away from you to look at your twin. “You’re okay with this?”

“Not really. But it’s how we do better.”

You can tell he’s starting to reluctantly come around, and he turns back to you, his expression serious. “If you fail, if Russell figures out that his daughter is dead, then all of our people are dead too.”

“I won't fail.”

He gives you a look, but he takes note of your conviction, and you know that he believes in you. And just like Clarke, he gives you his blessing, though you can tell that he hates doing it. You all turn to look at Octavia, who’s been quiet during the entire exchange. She looks at you for a long second and then nods, “If we can spare innocent lives, we should.”

You smile at her, nodding in thanks as she agrees with you instantly, and with everyone on the same page again, Gabriel goes back to building the smaller bomb. This time though, he is interrupted by the whine of motorcycle engines nearby. You all look up and at each other in shock, knowing what that means.

Sanctum riders.

Layla and a few other Children of Gabriel storm into the tent, tying all of you up and then gagging you. They spread you out across the room, with you and Bellamy beside each other, Clarke across from you, Octavia to your left and Gabriel to your right. You’re only in there for a few minutes, listening to the fighting outside when you hear a strange scratching sound from the back of the tent. You turn that way, eyes watching as a blade sticks through the material of the tent, dragging down to the bottom, creating a slit in the fabric. You all tense up, unsure who’s about to come inside, surprised when it’s Murphy’s head that pokes through. He steps inside, followed by Jade, a gun in her hand. At the sight of them, you recognize this for what it is: a rescue mission. You know they’re here for you, well at least they're here for your body, and you tense up as you watch Murphy and Jade slip inside.

Murphy steps into the middle of the tent, while Jade sneaks around the back, ducked behind the debris and mess, and once she’s in position, Murphy calls out to Layla, “Hey there.”

Layla spins around quickly, instantly lifting her gun and aiming it at Murphy, but Jade sneaks up behind her a second later and hits her with her rifle, knocking Layla out. Jade grabs Layla’s dropped weapon as she walks past, moving carefully before dropping down in front of you. “Josephine?”

You shift your eyes to Clarke, who gives you a subtle nod of her head, and you know you can't risk looking at Bellamy given his close proximity to you. But you can sense him tensing up, and though you know that he doesn't want you to leave, he’d agree to it too. Which is why you meet Jade’s eyes and nod your head. Jade puts the guns down and pulls the gag out of your mouth, and you make sure to raise the octave of your voice slightly, trying to perfectly capture Josephine’s tone of voice. “Well done, Jade.”

Jade pulls out a knife to cut through the restraints wrapped around your wrists and ankles, and you shift your gaze to Murphy, smirking, “You just can't pick a side, can you, John?”

“The only reason I'm doing this is because Emori dies if I don't.” Murphy turns to look at Bellamy, voice dropping a little. “The others are in trouble too. I promise I'll do what I can for them.”

Jade stands and helps you to your feet, looking between you and Murphy. “Give us two seconds to make sure it's clear, then follow.”

Just then, Layla starts to shift, and Jade grabs and lifts her gun, prepared to kill her. You feel a rush of alarm, and despite the threats she's hurled at you since showing up a few hours ago, you don't want to watch her die. You reach out and put your hand on the barrel, pushing the gun down to lower it, your tone commanding and angry. “No, this one's mine.”

You grab the discarded pistol from the table and aim it at Layla, glancing over your shoulder to look at Jade, who seems content to let you handle this. “Go, make sure it's clear.”

She nods and immediately turns to slip out of the tent, but Murphy stays put, his eyes locked on you suspiciously. “Is she really gone this time?”

“Yes. Boohoo.” You smirk at him, taunting him, using your earlier quip to Josephine and throwing it at Murphy this time. You can see a flash of anger cross his features, but you speak up before he can channel it, reminding him of the danger you’re in, waving the gun slightly. “Now, as soon as I pull this trigger, your little decoy trick will fail. You better run.”

He gives you one last look before he jogs to the cut in the tent and heads outside, and you wait for a full minute before turning back to Layla. She looks up at you with fear, clearly expecting you to kill her, but you surprise her by turning the gun away and then firing a single shot into the floor, keeping her safe. And then you set the gun down and run over to Bellamy, pulling the gag out of his mouth and giving him an earnest look. “I can do this, Bellamy.”

“I know you can. Go get that shield down, and we’ll bring the cavalry.”

You nod and smile, “I love you.”

“I love you more than the stars.” And with that you pull his face to yours and kiss him hard, reminding him of just how much he means to you. You turn and head to the door, stopping in front of Clarke along the way. You pull the gag from her mouth and she whispers, “I believe in you, la lune. Be safe.”

“You too, shining star.”

You give her a quick hug before you stand and look over at everyone one last time before you slip out of the tent and into the cool night air. You look around, eyes searching the woods nearby for any sign of Jade or Murphy, when someone flashes a light at you, signaling their location. You head that way, finding Jade and Murphy waiting for you, and they quickly lead you through the woods and to a pair of bikes hidden underneath a pile of leaves. Jade passes you a helmet before getting the bike upright, and then she waits for you to hop on, expecting you to drive yourself back. You move to straddle the bike, hoping you remember enough to get by as Jade readies the other bike for her and Murphy. And then on her signal, you both fire them up and drive away, heading back towards Sanctum.

You do pretty well on the ride back, and you arrive at the shield of Sanctum proud of yourself, though you can’t show it. As soon as you hop off the bike, it and your helmet are taken by a nearby guard, and the shield is quickly brought down so all of you can enter inside. You are accompanied by no less than 10 guards, all of whom seem wound tight and on edge. And though you feel the exact same with each step that brings you closer to Sanctum, you keep it hidden beneath a casual air of confident arrogance.

As soon as you crest the hill that leads to your first view of the palace, you are met with another group of guards, all standing around Russell. When you catch sight of him, you’re sure you're going to throw up, but you suppress the sensation and look away, pretending to take in the sights of Sanctum. And as a last ditch effort, you reach up and casually twirl your hair between your fingers in the way you've seen Josephine do in the hundreds of memories that you watched. With a small deep breath to steady yourself, you turn and meet Russell’s eyes, which are watching you closely. You smile and quip, “What? No hug?”

“Josephine.” His face breaks into the widest grin when he hears that his daughter is alive, and you’d almost feel bad for him if not for the fact that he's an evil body snatching asshole. Still, he takes you up on your offer and steps towards you, pulling you in for one of the tightest hugs you’ve ever experienced. You’re a little caught off guard by his fervor, but even more caught off by the question he mutters near your ear. “How is this possible?”

He pulls away and you smirk, “It's a long story. Suffice to say, I'm awesome.”

But then you think of the lack of the mind drive in your head and you know that the second he realizes you’re not Josephine you're dead, so you lie and say, “What I'm not, however, is immortal. Gabriel took out my drive.”

Russell’s face falls, but he nods and turns to a pair of guards behind him, motioning to Murphy. “Take him to Emori, and clear the doctor and the rest of their people from the lab.”

Your brows pull together at the mention of your mom and the others in the lab, and the mention of your own mother makes you realize there is another mother missing. You glance around for her and then shift your gaze to Russell. “Where's Mom?”

He lifts his hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a mind drive, still stained with Nightblood. You do your best to look worried, though you could honestly care less that Simone got what she deserved. “There was an incident, but it's okay. I was just on my way to resurrect her, but that can wait.”

You shake your head, not understanding. “Resurrect her in who?”

He gives you a look, and you remember the bits and pieces you gathered from Josephine before Bellamy and Clarke dragged you out of Sanctum. Your mom, your real mother, was back in space making the Primes Nightblood. “Abby did it. We can make hosts.”

“Yes, but not how you think.” Your stomach drops as he says that, not sure you want to know what that means. But he doesn't notice, and he reaches out and wraps his arm around you, leading you towards the lab. “Come on, let's get you checked out.”

As soon as he starts to lead you away, he asks for a quick rundown of the events prior to this moment. You keep most of the story the same, aware that bits of the truth will make the lies easier to remember. The only thing you change, however, is the fact that you survived the second mind wipe and Josephine didn't. “Anyway, I killed her in the mindspace. Now here we are.”

As you step into the lab, your eyes fall on a small body strapped to the chair in the center of the room, black blood leading from tubes in their arms and into a small bottle. Your stomach drops even further and you pause a little, before reminding yourself who you are and where you are, leading you to quip, “How about next time, we choose a less crowded host, what do you say?”

As you come around the chair and you finally get a look at who is strapped to it, you have to work hard to keep your expression neutral and impassive, because it’s Madi. Your niece, your little sun, is currently being drained for her Nightblood bone marrow, just like the Mountain Men did in Mount Weather. You try to keep your tone light as you ask, “And what is this?”

You turn to look at Russell with a smirk, channeling Josephine’s unhinged ways, and he answers, “This is how we make hosts.”

You don't get to answer, because Madi starts to stir at the sound of your voice, muttering your name before she asks, “Ani, is that you?”

She sounds so small and hurt and broken and it makes you want to save her and break this whole moon in half. But the rest of your people are out there, and they’re still in trouble, and they're relying on you to get the shield down. So you continue the facade and answer, “No. It's not. She put up a good fight, though, kid. Can't win them all.”

Madi doesn't react well to that, and she starts screaming, “We're gonna kill you! We're gonna kill all of you and everything you love!”

You try to hide the emotion you're feeling as you turn and grab one of the tranq sticks behind you before walking back over to Madi and sticking it in her arm, knocking her out. And then you turn to Russell, curious about how much life your niece has left. “How many doses can we get out of her before she dies?”

His expression changes, and you’re worried you've said the wrong thing, that you sounded too worried when asking. So you backtrack and smile, shaking your head and turning away from her. “You know what? Nevermind. It's time for my new drive, being mortal sucks.”

Russell smiles at you and sets up a chair, motioning for you to sit in it, face hidden from view, giving him access to your neck. As he works on giving you another drive, he tells you about the chaos in Sanctum that occurred while you were gone, including the chain of events that led to the death of Simone, your fake mom. You hum and respond when appropriate, though you spend the entire time anxiously worrying about Madi and Bellamy and Clarke and the rest of your people. As Russell finishes up the stitches on your neck, Madi wakes up again, the tranq stick not working long enough. And as soon as she catches sight of you, she starts yelling again, tugging against her restraints as she rages, “We should've killed you first. Once we're free, you will burn. You will all burn! You will not get rid of us! We are eternal!”

We? Us? You keep your mouth shut during Madi's tirade, terrified that your emotions will make your voice quiver and you’ll give yourself away, but you try to use your silence to process her words, trying to figure out why she's talking about herself in a plural sense. Russell finally has enough of Madi’s yelling and he yells for the guards to retrieve the doctors, which only further fuels your anxiety. Because if your mother breaks down when she finds out that you're not you, you’re worried that you’ll break character to comfort her, getting all of you killed.

You don't have to worry about what you’ll do for long, because the moment quickly comes and the door swings open, your eyes catching sight of three sets of legs. Madi continues to yell and fight until Jackson sedates her, a moment which can't come soon enough. You're able to hide your falling tears as your face is hidden, but you know that the moment will soon be up and you’ll have to face everyone in this room and play your part well. Russell dabs at your neck with a rag and then mutters, “There.”

He squeezes your shoulder, letting you know you're good to get up, and you sit up slowly, your eyes landing on your mother immediately as she stands in front of you, watching you closely. You keep your expression neutral, trying to pretend that you have no emotion or feelings towards her, and she must see that, because she starts to cry. It breaks your heart and you have to look away, distressed at the idea that your mother thinks she’s looking at someone else in your body. Russell distracts you a little by asking, “How do you feel?”

“Peachy keen Josephine.” Your gaze falls back to your mother, who is now crying harder, her face scrunched up and tears rapidly falling down her face. You can't take the sight of it anymore, so you channel Josephine and snap, “Oh, stop it. I'm not her.”

Her sadness morphs into anger, and she walks towards Russell, stopping when she’s close enough to get in his face. “I will kill you for this.”

“I once believed that I would never stray from the moral path, and then I killed my family in the first eclipse. I'd have done anything to bring them back, so I believe you.”

And then he turns and holds out a hand for you, which you reach out and take. He leads you from the room, past your mother and your niece and your friends, and you manage to call out, “Toodle-loo.” before practically running from the room. Russell leads you past the creepy army of skeletons that watched over you as you were nearly murdered, before taking you out of the reliquary and up the stairs to the palace. You walk into a large dining hall together, Murphy and Emori already sitting at a table inside, as Russell turns to you, his voice low. “You must be starving, let's get you something to eat. After that, I need you to handle the Naming Day preparations.”

You shake your head, well aware that if you get sucked into party planning, you’ll never be able to get away and get the shield down. But you know you can't say that, so instead you say, “I'm not hungry and I just got back. Get Priya to do it.”

He looks into your pleading eyes, and you know he’s picturing the first Josephine, the one he killed, the one he raised from birth. And his sentiment is enough for him to swing over to your side. “Fine, I'll get Priya to do it.”

“Good. Now, if I spend one more minute like this,” you motion down to your clothes, the ones that you wear daily, but the ones that Josephine seems to despise. “I will spontaneously combust from the shame.”

Russell smiles and nods, “Go get cleaned up, I'll resurrect your mother.”

From the table nearby, Emori calls out, “Wait, does that mean Echo's still alive?”

Echo. She's the next host for Simone. You rack your brain quickly, wondering how you can buy her time before she gets wiped out for good. You decide to continue playing off of Russell’s sentiment, hoping it’s enough to delay Echo’s murder. “Hey, I want to be there when Mom comes back. Wait for me?”

Lucky for you and for Echo, Russell smiles and nods his head again. “Of course, sweetheart. Be quick.”

You nod and turn and walk out, Jade following you as you go. You almost roll your eyes but you refrain, already working on how to get rid of her. As you reach the doors of your room, she takes up her post outside, and you stop and look at her before you step inside. “I’m gonna get cleaned up and take a shower. Don't wake me for a few hours, I had a long night.”

She nods once, letting you know she understands, and then you turn and head into Josephine's room, closing the door shut behind you. You head straight for the bathroom and turn on the water in the shower before stepping over to the mirror and looking at your reflection. You don't have time to actually shower but you look like hell, and there's no way Josephine would be walking around like this. So you quickly clean your face off and fix your hair, before raiding Josephine’s closet for an outfit that is nicer than your own, but practical enough that you can kick ass in it if you need to. Once you look presentable, you turn off the shower and throw your clothes in the trash, thinking it’s something that dramatic ass Josephine would do.

You ruffle the sheets to make them look slept in, just in case someone walks into this room, and then you head to the window and swing it open to look outside. There’s nothing beneath your window, but there is a series of balconies that zig zag along the wall, starting to your left. And if you stand on the edge of your window and say enough prayers to the Universe, you think you can reach it if you jump out towards it. Thankfully, Sanctum is on lockdown because of the spreading revolution, so no one sees you leaping and jumping your way from the top of the palace down to the bottom. The whole experience reminds you of escaping the throne room in Polis after Clarke destroyed the City of Light, and the reminder of Bellamy and Clarke is enough to fuel your descent down to the ground.

The night is fading when you finally reach the ground, the suns starting to rise in the sky, urging you to get a move on as everyone is likely just outside of the shield by now, waiting for you to take it down. You sneak around the palace and to the front, heading straight for the lab again, the guards opening the door to you without a second thought. You keep your expression neutral and your head high, exuding all the power that you can possibly manage as you step into the lab. Your mom, Jackson, and Raven all jump and scramble apart, clearly up to something based on their nervous expressions.

But you ignore them and jog towards your mom, reaching out and pulling her into your arms, hugging her tight and letting her know you're okay. She freezes and whispers your name, still skeptical, and you feel tears start to fall down your face as you nod, letting her know that it’s actually you. She wraps her arms around you and hugs you back just as tightly, both of you crying as you hold each other. She cries into your hair, “What happened? I thought I...how?”

You both pull apart and you reach up to swipe away your fallen tears. “It's a long story, but I'm okay.”

She accepts that's all you can say for now, before you turn your gaze to Madi, who is still sedated, looking even worse than before. You feel worry etch itself into your features and Raven catches sight of it before she informs you, “It's the Flame.”

You look up at her in horror. “The Flame that I put in her head?”

“It’s Sheidheda. I'm working the problem, but I need Becca's book.”

You look down at Madi, and as much as you hate to say it, you know that getting the shield down is the first priority. Because without any Primes in need of Nightblood, she’ll be safe again. You turn to look at Raven again and you mutter, “That can wait because I need you to come with me. We don't have much time, we have to lower the shield. Bellamy, Clarke, and Octavia are waiting with the Children of Gabriel.”

“I can't go with you.” Raven shakes her head, her eyes dropping down to Madi. “If she wakes up again, Sheidheda will kill her.”

You nod, thinking before you counter, “Okay, I'll use Ryker. The reactor's beneath the machine shop anyway.”

“No.” You look up at her in surprise, her objection coming out stronger than you were expecting. You must look confused because she clarifies, “Ryker turned Echo in, he won't help you.”

“He won’t help me, but he’ll help Josephine. She can be very persuasive.” You turn your focus back to your mom, your voice almost pleading. “Until then, promise me you won't take any more bone marrow.”

Jackson pipes up, “That's not a problem now. There's another Nightblood in the family.”

You look at your mom in shock, about to object, but she shakes her head, reaching out to put her hand on your cheek. “I won't let them take her.”

Jackson recalls the time all of you spent in Becca’s lab, back before Praimfaya, back before body snatching Primes, and he muses, “Like mother, like daughter.”

You ignore him, focusing on your mother still. “I love you.”

She smiles at you, bright and genuine and happy, and you marvel at it, as it’s a smile she gives you so rarely. You tuck it into your memory, wanting to keep it forever as she whispers back, “I love you too, la lune. Now go save us all.”

You nod and head straight to Ryker’s shop to persuade him to take the shield down for you. Unfortunately, instead of Ryker, you find Ryker’s dead body, his skin cool to the touch, meaning he’s been out for a while. You make a split second decision to take his mind drive so you can use it as leverage against Priya, and no sooner do you get the drive out does Russell open the door to the shop and head your way. He seems oblivious to the drive you have stolen, or the fact that you snuck out hours ago, and you frame Echo as the thief of the drive, vowing to get it back for him. Russell agrees and tells you he’s going to resurrect the others in the meantime, giving you enough time to find Echo and the missing drive so that you can end this once and for all. He also forces you to take a handful of guards with you, and you have to hide your annoyance as they are just one more roadblock in your way.

You search a few places for Priya, relieved when you finally find her inside the tavern, stiff and uncomfortable. You assume your Josephine persona and call out to her, “Priya, there you are. I've been looking all over.”

She turns around in shock and gives you a cool smile when she sees you. “Josie. I heard you had quite the adventure.”

“You have no idea, and I'll tell you all about it, but first I need your help with something in the machine shop.”

She looks at you with concern, “What did Ryker do now?”

“More like what didn't he do.” You drop your voice lower, so the others in the tavern can't hear you as well. “Dad asked him to wipe one of the prisoners, but he's completely lost his nerve. It's embarrassing.”

“He's never wanted to face the reality of our situation. Let's go.”

The two of you turn to leave, heading towards the door with your guards right behind you, but you only make it halfway there before a loud yell comes from behind you. You and Priya jump and turn around in shock, just in time to see Echo vaulting herself off the bar, taking out one of your guards. Gaia and Miller jump over next and take out the other two, and as soon as Priya sees that you are both guardless, she turns to the door in fear, yelling, “Josephine, come on!”

But as she tries to run past you, you reach out and punch her, knocking her out, and her body falls to the floor with a thud. You look up and meet the surprised eyes of your friends, and you smile at them, letting them know it’s you. Echo smiles back and whispers, “I knew it.”

She walks towards you and pulls you in for a hug, and she releases you a moment later, allowing you to hug both Miller and Gaia in greeting. With the mini reunion out of the way, Gaia looks at you with confusion. “How are you here?”

“I'll explain later, but first we need to lower the shield. Bellamy and Clarke are out there with the cavalry. We can get Priya to help me take down the reactor, and then we go after Madi.”

They nod in agreement, letting you know they’re with you, and you, Echo, Miller, and Gaia all sneak Priya back to Ryker’s shop and anxiously wait for her to wake up. The suns have already set on this impossibly short day, and you continue to grow anxious with each passing second, aware that a whole bunch of people are relying on you to get this damn shield down so Gabriel can deploy the toxin. Though, you start to think that someone somewhere got the plan mixed up, because you hear alarms go off for the toxin, though the shield is still very much up and Priya is still very much unconscious. You smack her face a few times to wake her up, and you threaten to smash Ryker’s drive if she doesn't agree to cooperate. The threat seems to do the job because she quickly types in the code to take it down before Miller tugs the bag back down on her head after you motion for the group to follow you.

You all sneak down to the base of the stairs to Sanctum, waiting for Bellamy and Clarke to arrive with the others, and after a few tense minutes of waiting, they come running up the hill towards you. They both hug you desperately, grateful that you’re still alive, and you inform them of the danger you’re all in now that Gabriel has deployed the toxin too early. A crowd has gathered outside the palace, and a collective decision is made to tell the truth using Priya, all of you hoping that will be enough to convince the people of Sanctum that they are living a lie, and that the ensuing chaos will be enough for you to get your people out.

Bellamy agrees to take Priya and the drive and do the talking, since he's always been the best with speeches, and a few minutes later the tides seem to have turned in your direction. That is, until Russell steps out of the palace and gives a short speech about how disappointed he is, seconds before he deploys a small bomb made of red sun toxin. This toxin quickly spreads through the crowd, turning believers against non believers, and the Children of Gabriel that are all around you pass out the antitoxin so none of you will be affected.

As Bellamy returns and you all try to figure out what to do now, Miller catches sight of Raven, Madi, and Jackson being led into the palace, all three of them restrained. Miller and Clarke seem desperate to reach the people you love, but you know damn well that you have the best chance of getting in there and getting them out alive. And though Clarke and Bellamy again seem reluctant to let you go, they know you have the best chance too. So with another tearful goodbye you head to the palace with Gaia in tow, who is pretending to be one of your guards. As soon as you step inside of the large dining hall where the others are gathered, Gaia melts into the background and you look around the room, taking everything in.

Murphy and Emori are dressed in the nicest clothes you've ever seen them in, both of them also wearing makeup, clearly now part of the elite group of Primes. Gabriel is also in the room, surprisingly enough, restrained and being held captive along the edge of the room. The rest of the room is dotted with various other Primes, all recently resurrected. As soon as Russell sees you, he anxiously walks your way. “Thank God. Where have you been?”

“I was looking for Priya, but then I was blocked by a bunch of Gabriel's lunatic children. She's dead, by the way. What the hell is going on?”

A surprising voice answers from behind you, “We're leaving Sanctum until it's purified.”

You turn around in confusion, coming face to face with your mother, dressed in Sanctum clothes. She crosses the room and closes the space between the two of you, and you tentatively whisper, “Mom?”

You already know in your bones that it isn't her, but you pray that she answers you in some way, letting you know that she’s still inside her head. You pray that your mother has not just been body snatched by the asshole Primes, but you already know that she has. Gabriel must sense your turmoil because he answers for your mother, “Your mother murdered her mother. Ironic, don't you think?”

And Gabriel’s confirmation hits you like a train. You want to scream and cry and truly burn this fucking moon to the ground for all they have done to you and your family, but you can't. You have a part to play and you have to play it for your people’s sake. So you turn to Gabriel and mask your sorrow for your mother as sorrow of regret, slapping him across the face as you snap, “Don't you speak to me. How could I have ever loved such a traitor?”

You feel tears run down your face, only visible to Gabriel, and your mother, your bodysnatched mother, puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, not realizing that your tears are for the body she’s in. “Oh, sweetheart. At least you have closure.”

Russell cuts your mourning short as he anxiously eyes the room. “That's enough. Now that we're all accounted for, it's time to go. Have you all taken the antitoxin?”

Everyone nods, you included, but you also shake your head in confusion. “Go? Where?”

“To space, of course. Sanctum has lost us. For now, anyway.”

One of the Primes argues, “We have no pilot. Priya's dead. Maybe if you didn't kill the Lees.”

“That won't be a problem.” Your mother, Simone, turns and grabs a gun from one of the guards, before spinning and locking her gaze on Raven. “We don't need the Lees, do we, Raven?”

“Go float yourself, murderer.”

Simone cocks the gun and points it at Madi, and you have to work hard to keep your fear hidden beneath your neutral expression. “How about now?”

Raven looks distressed, tears streaming down her face, her eyes darting over to you. You can’t say or do anything that will give yourself away, but you have to hope she’s as desperate to save Madi as you are. And it seems as though she is, because she turns her gaze back to Simone, nodding her head and softly whispering, “Okay.”

“Good choice.”

Russell accepts the compliance and begins yelling orders, “Guards, take the prisoners. We're using the tunnel, but be prepared for anything.” Everyone starts to file out of the room behind the guards and the prisoners, leaving you to linger behind. Russell starts to walk past you, but pauses when he reaches Gabriel. “Goodbye, old friend. Sanctum is yours, though I suspect you won't last very long.”

He stalks out of the room with Simone on his arm, leaving just you, Gaia, Murphy, Emori, and a few guards. You start to slowly follow the others out of the room, and Murphy and Emori pass you as you do, heading in the wrong direction. You stop and turn to ask, “You're not coming?”

Murphy is upset, and you can see tears in his eyes, with some already fallen down his face. He steps close to you, his voice an angry whisper. “You killed her. All she did was help and you killed her.”

You feel tears rise to your eyes when you realize he’s talking about you. Everyone's favorite cockroach is expressing regret and sadness for the way things went down with you and your body snatching. You glance at Emori, wondering if she shares the sentiment, and you catch the tears in her eyes before she nods. “We're staying. We're gonna save our people.”

You turn to look at Murphy, figuring it’s safe enough to let him know that you're okay. You smile a little and whisper, “I'm proud of you, Murphy.”

His eyes go wide as he realizes that you called him Murphy and not John, and you see the smallest smile grace his lips before he remembers to hide it. But he lets you know that he understands by leaning close and whispering, “Just so you know, Josephine called me ‘John’.”

You don’t get the chance to say anything else, because Russell calls out from behind you, “Josie, Daniel, Kaylee, is there a problem?”

You quickly wipe away your tears, and put a sneer on your face, turning to face him. “They changed their minds. Cowards.”

“The mind drive is a terrible thing to waste.” He shrugs and then turns to look at you again, “Josie, bring your guards and let's go.”

“Guards, move out.”

As all of you start heading towards the door, Gaia included, Russell catches a glimpse of her and yells out, “Wait, she's one of them! Throw her to the wolves.”

Four sets of guns turn on her, and Gaia looks at you with fear. You do some quick thinking and shout, “No! I saw her in Clarke's mind. Threatening the child may work on Raven, but if I'm right, we need her to get on that ship.”

You turn to look at Russell, trying to convince him that you know what you're talking about, and he finally nods, motioning for the other guards to lower their guns and grab her instead. They comply, and Russell takes one last look around the room before motioning for you to leave ahead of him, as he and the other guards follow closely behind.

You all quickly head to the transport ship and board with your hostages, and Raven flies you up to the Eligius mothership despite her earlier disagreement. You, Russell, and Simone all stand in the airlock with guns to the heads of your hostages, waiting for the doors to slide open so you can begin your negotiations. Some of Wonkru, led by Indra and accompanied by Niylah, all stand at the entrance waiting, guns pointed your way. At first, Indra seems unwilling to let any of you board, but luckily Gaia manages to signal to her mother to stand down, allowing all of you to take control of the ship. All of the people who are awake on the ship are led to the mess hall where they can be easily contained, and as soon as you let Madi and the other prisoners go, Madi yells out for those in the room to attack.

They are quickly shot down, restoring order within seconds, and you cross the room to Madi in a flash, smacking her across the face so hard that you knock her out. You let out a shaky breath, trying to push back your emotions over hitting your niece, though only your people see it because of the way you’re facing. You quickly compose yourself and turn back to your fellow Primes, heading towards the door as you call out, “Let them rot!”

All of the Primes follow you out into the hall, and once there, you start to discuss next steps. One of the male Primes, you don't know who, turns to Russell as soon as you are outside of the mess hall. “Planet Beta. Russell, we don't even know if it's survivable.”

“If it isn't, we go for Gamma, then Delta, then Epsilon. We won't even have to land to find out if it's survivable. Assuming there are no other signal sucking anomalies, we can access the mind drives of the other teams wirelessly from up here.”

Everyone seems placated with this information, everyone that is, except for Simone. She turns to her husband, shaking her head. “Russell, I love you, and I will go with you across the stars and back, but that child is a problem.”

You roll your eyes, hoping you can diffuse the talk of murdering Madi with a Josephine style joke. “Oh, for God's sake, she has the blood. In fact, dibs on her as my next host.”

Russell adds, “Simone, if we kill their leader, they will never follow us, and we need those people to serve us unless you plan on cleaning latrines.”

She sighs, clearly only on board with the idea of keeping Madi alive, because she doesn't want to do the jobs that she thinks she is too superior for. The thought makes you sick to your stomach. “Fine, but we’re killing her sleeping army because I promise you they are already talking about how to wake them. We brought enough mind wiping fluid to erase them all in their sleep, where they'll be perfectly preserved until one of us needs a new host.”

Your mind starts to race, wondering how much longer you can keep up this facade while still also saving the hundreds of Wonkru and Eligius people that are sleeping peacefully on this ship. You miss the agreement of the other Primes, and you're only pulled out of your head when Russell turns to you expectantly. “Josie, what say you?”

You slap a smile on your face and answer, “Are you kidding? It's brilliant! A little genocide, a long nap. What the hell? Let's be explorers.”

Russell sends the other Primes to the bridge of the ship, while you, him, and Simone retrieve the mind wiping fluid from the transport ship and head towards the sleeping army. You offer to carry it for them, and they think nothing of it, passing the liquid to you as they discuss the logistics of how to vent this into the room. The whole way to the cryo chambers all you do is search for an opportunity to run off with this liquid, but you don’t know what you’d do after that or where you’d go. You're stuck on a ship in the sky with no way to fly back down to Sanctum, all while the rest of your friends are locked up on the other side of the ship. So instead, you go along with the plans and discussions, nodding when appropriate, standing near the back as Simone rigs up the ventilation system to hold the fluid. She works quickly, all while you rack your brain to stop this, but you struggle to think of anything useful. Eventually though, time is up, and Simone reaches out to you. “Hand me the serum.”

You pull it away from her outstretched hand, your brain only able to come up with one distraction technique. You look at Simone with concern, before asking, “Are you feeling okay? You look pale. Have you had any nosebleeds or memory flashes that aren't familiar?”

“No, what are you talking about?”

You try to sound as casual as you can when you answer, “Oh, it's something I saw in the mindspace. Her mother had the same neuromesh as she did. I thought they destroyed it with an EMP, but-”

Russell cuts you off, his voice resolute and a smile on his face, as if failed mind wipes are a funny little mistake. “They did, I examined her before resurrection. I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.”

Your blood runs cold, and you realize that this is it. There are no more stops for you to pull, no more tricks. You have to give up your advantage, reveal that you’re not Josephine at all, because that’s the only way to prevent a genocide. So when Simone reaches for the container again, you pull your arm away, backing up and putting distance between you and Josephine’s parents. Russell seems to figure it out first, though Simone is right behind him. His eyes well up with tears as he looks at you with sorrow, and you have another thought that it would be heartbreaking if he wasn't talking about a murdering body snatcher who tried to kill you multiple times, just so she could keep your body. “No, not Josie!”

You back away from the grieving parents, looking between then, shaking your head. “I can't let you kill these people. And believe it or not, I am sorry for your loss.”

You give them both one last look before you take off running, trying to put as much distance between you and them as you can. You don't hear the thundering of footsteps following you, and you start to rack your brain on why they wouldn’t follow you, until you have the horrifying realization that they’re likely grabbing Madi and searching for some way to track your mind drive. Deciding to tackle one problem at a time, you head to one of the hallways that holds an outer door, rigging up a way to get yourself out of this mess. You find a supply closet with a bunch of old and broken items from the ship, including a few discarded safety tethers. You grab them and head back to the lever to the outer door, tying them as tight as you can to a large metal bar on the wall. Then you attach the other side of the tether to your waist, hoping that it’s strong enough to hold you if the Primes call you on your bluff.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the Primes come into the hall, a tracker held in one of their hands, weapons in all the others. As soon as you see them you reach out and put your hand on the lever and yell, “Don't move! I set the inner door to stay open when I pull this, so you can put the guns down, or you can float.”

The Primes all freeze, looking between each other in shock, wondering what to do, when Simone turns her gun on all the others, “You heard her, weapons down now.”

You look at her with hope, lip quivering as you fight back tears, realizing that maybe your mom is okay after all. “Mom?”

She turns to you with a smile, and it warms your entire body. “Yes, it's me.”

The other Primes all put their guns down, and once your mother knows that you're safe, she turns to you with tears in her eyes. “I've been pretending too. Now let's lock them up and go save Madi.”

She turns back to the others, still pointing her gun at them, but something about the situation isn't sitting right with you. You aren't sure what, maybe it's because she didn't use your nickname or hug you or doesn't seem as emotional as she usually would be. Maybe it’s the fact that you remember Russell’s words about how he double checked for a neural mesh and found none, meaning there would be nowhere for your mother to go in the mindspace. Regardless of what it is, you call out to your mom's back, “What's my father's name?”

You repeat his name in your head like a mantra, begging her to say it, but your mother only turns around and looks at you with a blank expression. That’s enough for you to know the truth, that your mother truly is dead, and Simone is just trying to play you. You can tell that she knows you aren't buying it anymore, because she tries to turn her gun on you, but you quickly pull the lever to the outer door, sending all of the other Primes into space. Simone is the exception though, because she manages to reach out for you on her way past, wrapping her arms around your waist and holding onto you tightly as you both move and shift with the rushing air. You look down into your mother’s face, now being worn by someone else, and you swear you can feel your heart rip in half. You killed this woman's daughter, and you know she'll never let you live after this.

Which is why you put your hand on your mother’s forehead and push, sending her out into space with the other Primes. You use the tether to make your way back to the lever, pushing it down so you can close the outer doors again. You hit the ground with a thud, a sob tearing through you for the first time, finally able to mourn the loss of your mother. But then you remember that Russell was not with the group, and he likely has Madi, so you push your emotions aside for now, tucking them away. You untie yourself and head straight for the mess hall in search of your niece. You use Shaw’s failsafe code to get into the room, looking around at the group gathered there as they all stare at you in shock. “Where's Madi?”

Gaia answers, “Russell took her.”

“Oh, no. Oh, no. No, no.” You feel your knees give out beneath you as you realize that this is it for Madi. She is going to be killed for what you've done, and there is likely no way for you to stop it. Raven comes over to you, grabbing your arm, trying to comfort you. “We'll get her back.”

You look up at her with tears in your eyes, “No, you don't understand. I killed his family, and now he's gonna kill mine.”

Before she can answer you, the door to the mess hall slides open. You scramble to your feet and watch Madi and Russell walk in, followed by a large group of armed warriors. Indra mutters, “The demon awoke Wonkru.”

Madi yells, “Kneel if you want to live!”

You are the first one to kneel, tears in your eyes, and she looks down at you with disgust. “They said you were strong, but you're weak. Your love has made you so.”

You feel your tears spill down your face, and you lean over to one of the Wonkru guards nearby, snatching the pistol from his side and holding it to your temple. You look into Madi’s eyes, ignoring the fact that Sheidheda has made them so cold and unfeeling, and you start to beg. “Madi, I know you're in there. Please come back. I lost my mother today, I nearly lost myself. I don't know if Clarke and Bellamy are okay, and I can't lose you too. Please.”

She looks at you with a blank stare and the tears fall down your face as you reach for the trigger. “I'm gonna pull the trigger in 3...2…”

You nearly make it to one, stopping as Madi takes in a deep breath, holding up her hand and yelling, “Take the Prime and his men!”

Wonkru immediately responds and lowers their weapons, only turning them on Russell and his other men. Madi runs across the room and straight into your arms, both of you hugging each other tightly as you relish in the fact that you have saved one of your family members today. But just as you’re enjoying your reunion, Madi starts to seize up in your arms, sending you into a panic as Raven yells, “Get her upstairs!”

Jackson and Indra both grab her and quickly carry her upstairs, and you run up after them, despite not knowing what's going on. They take her into a small medical lab and strap her to a table as Raven lifts an electrical cord and sticks it into the open wound on Madi’s neck, presumably connecting it to the Flame, all the while Madi continues to seize. You call out to her, letting her know you’re here for her, trying to encourage her to fight in the same way that Clarke and Bellamy encouraged you. “Madi, I'm here. Listen to my voice, you can do this! You have to fight, Madi. You have to fight!”

Raven furiously types away at the computer, isolating Sheidheda’s code before yelling, “Got him!”

The code starts to delete from the Flame, uploading onto the other computer in the room. As soon as it’s up and out of Madi’s head, you look down at her expectantly, waiting for her to wake up. But in the same way you didn't immediately wake up after Gabriel tried to restart your heart, Madi doesn't move either. You reach out and press your finger to her neck, your stomach dropping when you barely feel a faint flutter beneath her skin. “Her pulse is too weak.”

Raven looks at you, remembering what it was like after you fried the Alie chip in her head. “We have to take it out like you did with me after the EMP.”

Jackson immediately hops into action and grabs a scalpel, increasing the cut on Madi’s neck before reaching for a pair of forceps. He uses them to pull the Flame out of her head, the AI looking terrible and destroyed as it pulls free from her neck. As soon as it’s out, Madi takes a deep breath, Sheidheda finally gone, her mind back to only holding one Commander. You drop down beside her, smoothing her hair back from her face and smiling as you whisper, “Hey little sun, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”

She smiles at you slightly, still weak and exhausted, whispering, “Thank you, ani.”

You transfer your gaze to Raven, who is standing close, looking down at Madi with worry, and you reach out to her and grab her hand, squeezing in thanks, well aware that she did all of the work. “Thank you, Raven.”

She squeezes back, her face full of regret when she counters, “I’m sorry about Abby.”

You nod, still not ready to process the loss of your mother. And with your niece saved and your people saved, you want nothing more than to get back down to Sanctum to make sure that Bellamy and Clarke are safe. Raven agrees to get you ready to fly within minutes, and you assemble a small team to head back down to Sanctum, while everyone else waits it out for a while, allowing you to make sure it's safe for them to follow.

You’re relieved when the transport ship finally lands back inside Sanctum, ready to reunite with Bellamy and your twin again. You and Madi walk hand in hand back to the village, both of you leading the group of your people as you return. Everyone starts to break away from the group and hug their friends and family as they see them, and you're almost caught off guard by both Bellamy and Clarke running your way. Clarke runs straight for Madi and lifts her in her arms, holding her tight, while Bellamy scoops you up in a hug and twirls you, both of you laughing with happiness. He puts you down so he can kiss you, and when he pulls away, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips, “I had a whole speech planned, but I can't wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

Your smile grows wider, loving this proposal just as much as the first one, as this one comes off the heels of your nearest death experience to date, and you whisper back, “Yes, of course I will.”

Bellamy smiles and kisses you again, before sliding the ring on your finger, looking the happiest he has in a while. Clarke lets out a little happy cheer, and you roll your eyes at your twin before pulling her in for a hug, just as happy to see that she’s okay, and she hugs you back, celebrating the fact that despite all the odds, you survived. As the two of you pull apart and look Bellamy’s way, he starts to tell you all about the journey that Gabriel has planned and how all of you should go with him. Your mind flashes to your mother and how she’s now dead and gone, floated just like your father, and you desperately want to escape the memory of what you’ve done. Which is why you agree to the journey with Bellamy and the others, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of things. Your mother’s death is exactly why Clarke agrees to stay, hoping that she can clean up the mess in Sanctum and make her proud. So though it pains you both to separate again so soon after reuniting, you do, both of you needing to process her death in your own ways.

You, Bellamy, Octavia, Gabriel, and Echo all head back to Gabriel’s camp together, exchanging stories of what all of you have missed. Before you know it, you make it back to Gabriel’s camp, and he leads you all inside of the tent, motioning for you to gather around as he pulls the rubber panels that make up the floor away, tossing them to the side, revealing an old hatch. “I have to tell you I'm very excited about this. I've been studying those symbols since we found the stone, we built the camp here because of it.”

He lifts the hatch, revealing a short ladder into the ground, and he climbs down inside. All of you file down the ladder after him, standing at the base of it, staring at the object hidden from the world beneath this camp. It’s a large ball, made of metal, designed in the same swirl on Octavia’s back. The entire thing is covered in different symbols, and somehow, the ball is floating, supported by nothing. All four of you stare it in shock, not believing what you’re seeing, and Gabriel just smiles at you, glad you’re just as enamored as he is.

Gabriel walks towards the stone, Octavia right behind him, as he says, “It's thousands of years old. We have no idea who made it or what generates the magnetic field that holds it up, but we're pretty sure it's what sucks in all the radio signals.”

Some of the symbols on her back are red, it's a code.”

“Very good. We're about to find out what it's for.” Gabriel holds his hand out to Octavia, “May I see the drawing, please?”

She pulls the drawing of the tattoo from her pocket, passing it to him, and he unfolds it, searching the stone for each of the red symbols, and then touching them with two fingers, the symbol humming beneath his touch. As he works, Bellamy asks, “What happens if you're right?”

“I filled 100 notebooks with possible answers to that question.” He comes to a stop in front of the last signal, now standing beside Octavia. He turns to her, a small smile on his face. “The last symbol in the series is called an octonion. Advanced mathematics way above my head, but I don't think it's a coincidence you share a name. Please, it should be you.”

He gestures to the symbol, and she hesitates for a second before touching it, the symbol humming beneath Octavia’s touch. With the last symbol entered, you all stand waiting, staring at the stone in search of what’s going to happen next. Except, nothing happens, the moment stretching on for too long, and Gabriel’s face falls as he looks down at the sketched out tattoo again. “No, no, no, no, no. It can't be right, we must have got something wrong.”

As he turns to look at Octavia, a low rumble starts to shake the ground above, a sound not unnoticed by your fiance. He holds up his hand to Gabriel, gesturing for him to stop talking. “Quiet.”

All of you stand perfectly still, the rumbling growing increasingly louder, a strange green glow coming from the ground above the hatch. Gabriel looks up with a smile, the paper in his hand slipping from his grip, floating to the ground. “Oh, my God. I knew it.”

He bolts past all of you and heads up the ladder incredibly fast, and all of you scurry after him, trying to keep up. When you get into the tent, it’s flapping and shaking like you're in the middle of a windstorm, and a bright green light surrounds everything, casting an eerie glow. The sound is almost deafening, and you yell to be heard above it, “What the hell is this?”

Octavia just ominously whispers, “She's here.”

You look at her, taking note of the shocked expression on her face, very different from the confused expression on your own. She starts to walk forward slowly, and you hear a high pitched whine from the mouth of the tent, seconds before a figure starts to step inside. It's a girl, not much older than you are, her hair done up in two buns. She has symbols like the ones tattooed on Octavia back, except hers are on her face, etched across her cheeks and forehead. Octavia laughs when she sees the girl, a sound of happy shock, and she says, “Hope.”

You all look at Octavia, wondering what the hell is going on, and the girl, Hope, answers, “I couldn't get out of it, he has my mother. I'm so sorry, Octavia.”

They embrace, pulling each other into a hug, one that seems stiff and awkward, and Bellamy watches on, his anxiety growing. He yells, “Octavia, what's happening?”

Octavia leans up and whispers something in the girl’s ear, the words lost to all of you over the roar of whatever is happening around you, and as soon as she finishes talking, they pull apart. Hope steps backwards, a knife in her hand, the tip coated in blood, and Echo yells, “Knife!”

The pieces fall together, and you and Bellamy look at O, who starts to fall backwards, clutching her side. Bellamy catches her, his voice worried as he mutters, “O.”

Echo runs over to Hope and restrains her, along with Gabriel, as Bellamy holds his sister in his arms, you right at their side. You reach out to Octavia, pulling her layers aside to get a look at the wound, and as you do, you hear another high pitch whine, seconds before a bright green cloud slides into the tent, washing over Octavia and then pulling away. As the green glow subsides, you and Bellamy stare at his now empty arms, his sister carried off by the bright beam of light. You look up at each other, sharing a look of disbelief, trying to confirm that you both saw the impossible. He looks back down at his shaking hands, her blood covering one of them, evidence that Octavia was here, and then he turns and heads for the exit of the tent looking for her. You follow him outside, Hope collapsing as you walk past, but you ignore her, following your fiance out into the woods, the bright green light subsiding, returning back to where it came from.

The woods outside are empty, devoid of any sign of Octavia, no blood, no clothing, no nothing left behind as proof that she was out here. Bellamy spins in place, tears falling down his cheeks, his voice breaking with worried desperation as he yells, “Octavia! Octavia! Octavia!”

And there’s nothing for you to do but watch as the love of your life falls apart, his sister now gone. The mystery of Sanctum grew and then subsided, taking Octavia Blake with it.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 rewrite

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yodawgiherd · 4 years ago

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Cabin at Daytime

>>>Read on AO3<<<

You thought that you could escape EM cottagecore in a modern AU? Fools!

Eren was poked into consciousness by gentle yet unyielding fingers. Sitting up, he saw Mikasa watching him, eyes shining with tears.

“Another nightmare?”

She nodded.

“I know the continuation of the story, wanna hear it?”

Looking over her, Eren saw some major differences from the last time. Mikasa had tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying, her face had a sort of acceptance written into it. Her dream must have been bittersweet because she had a strong feeling of melancholy about her. Sad, but not terribly wrecked by it. Something happened, but it was bound to happen, and it was the best outcome of the events she was stuck at.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Eren gave her a warm smile, hoping to make her feel better.

“Of course. Told you that I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Okay..”, she drawled, “But I have a condition.”

From the way her teeth shone in the darkness, Eren had a faint idea what Mikasa might want at three in the morning.

“Is it pancakes?”, he tried.

It was pancakes.

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in the kitchen and preparing her sweet treat while Mikasa sat at the counter, bare legs swinging freely. Her hands were wrapped around a fresh cup of coffee that she was sipping in order to wake up.

“So?”, he asked, sprinkling the chocolate chips in, “Going to tell me while I cook?”

“Sure.”, Mikasa took a deep breath and looked Eren straight in the eyes, her voice serious, “I killed you.”

Not that surprising, considering that he was the big bad evil guy in her dreams.

“Again? Didn’t you dream about that already?”

“I did, but It was different this time.”

“And didn’t Armin off me too?”

Mikasa shook her head, the moonlight reflecting against her midnight bangs.

“You got up from that.”

“Guess I could have seen it coming, I’m nothing if not stubborn.”

She giggled at that, small simpers escaping through the tears that were present on her face.

“I cut off your head.“

“How?“

“With a sword.”, she reached over, dragging a single black fingernail over Eren’s throat, “Riiiight here.”

“Ouch.”

“And then we kissed.”

“Uhm...”

Mikasa fell silent, pondering what she just said.

“Well,”, Eren began, “Did I see you before you killed me?”

“Yea…”

“All good then.”

She looked up, a question on her face.

“What do you mean?”

“If I got to die while looking at you, then there is nothing more I could wish for.”

A sniffle.

“There was no other way.”

“Of course. I told you – that mess must have been my fault, I do not blame you in the slightest. Although there is one thing I’d like to say.”

“Yes?”

“I think that I prefer kissing you while my head is attached to my body.”

Finally, she laughed out loud, scooting over on the kitchen counter to be closer. Taking a gentle hold of his head, Mikasa angled it properly, bowing down and pressing her lips against his. So warm and gentle, as only Eren could be, it made her eyes flutter close from the pure sweetness of it. His were closed too, she noticed, but he was very much alive against her mouth. Mikasa tasted like the coffee she drank and combined with the natural sweetness of her lips, it was downright delicious. Nip here and there, Mikasa was sighing into the kiss before she realized it.

“As much as I adore kissing you, I should finish the food.”, Eren murmured against her addicting lips, “Might burn it.”

Mikasa loved Eren’s chocolate chip pancakes and burning them was heresy. Releasing him, she sat back, leaning on her arms and watching him work.

“You know, maybe it’s not so bad that you cut my head off.”

“Eren, what in seven hells are you on about?”

“Well, even as a head I could be of service to you,”, like a damn snake, he wiggled his tongue at her, “You do adore my oral skill, don’t you?”

She did, but Mikasa also strongly preferred having all of Eren to enjoy, not just a damn head. That joke went overboard for her because she remembered the kiss from her dream which was so tragic and so far from what Eren was suggesting. Filled with a wave of slight nausea, Mikasa let her disgust show on her face.

“Fine, I’m not talking to you anymore. Even better, I’m breaking off our engagement and I’ll be moving out in the morning. Good day, sir.”

With that, she turned away from him, closing her eyes and overall just being done with Eren Yeager. Seeing it, he realized that he might have overstepped his boundaries, and the last thing he wanted was to have his angel mad at him. Turning the heat down for a moment, he leaned closer, gently nudging the collar of her too-large sleeping shirt down her shoulder with his nose. Once her porcelain skin was bare to him, Eren kissed it gently, moving his lips over the pale expanse. At the same time his hands got adventurous, one starting from Mikasa’s knee and moving upwards, kneading those wonderful thighs of hers. The other circled her unresponsive form, a finger tracing the curve of her spine. She didn’t pull away but didn’t react to him either, marking his efforts as inefficient for now.

“I’m sorry, it was inappropriate.”

Nope, nothing. Very well then.

Eren moved up, focusing his kisses on her neck now, gently biting into the skin. His hand also slid up to Mikasa’s inner thigh, caressing. Finally that coaxed something out of her, a tiny moan that escaped her lips.

“I’m very sorry, Miki.”, he repeated between the kisses, “Please forgive me.”

Even while apologizing, he couldn’t help himself when his nose was pressed right against her skin. Her scent invaded his mind, gliding around the familiar place, reminding him of everything good that was in his life.

“God, you smell so good.”, he murmured.

She snickered, and the combination of joy and pleasure produced by Eren was enough for Mikasa to forgive. She turned towards him, grey eyes sliding over his face.

“Eren, I love you, but please don’t say things like that again. That kiss was so far from anything even remotely sexual that…”

“I know, and I won’t. I’m sorry, again.”

“Good.”, leaning close, she pecked him on the lips, “Now get back to cooking, I’m supposed to get my pancakes.”

With a grin, Eren let go of her and returned to the task at hand. Turning the heat up, he watched the pancake simmer into existence, all under Mikasa’s hungry gaze. She loved chocolate, and Eren made sure to put an extra portion of the brown chips into the next pancake he began creating.

“There was something else.”, she said, “Like a dream within a dream.”

That piqued his interest.

“Do go on.”

“The other Mikasa…”

“Dreamkasa?”, Eren offered, making her frown.

“Shush.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Dreamkasa. Almost as bad as that incredible nickname she had, Gothkasa. Pfff…

“She had a vision or something, of her living together with the other Eren, in a cabin.”

“Sounds peaceful.”

“It was. But at the same time…”, Mikasa rubbed a hand over her temple, trying to remember, “It was sad because they gave up something very important to have that life together. Still, he was so sweet to her, it was a wonderful experience.”, a memory coming back made her smile, “He caught fish for her.”

“Damn, I better step up my game then. But isn’t dream Eren a bad guy?”

“I don’t rightly know, the details escape me. I do remember how she felt about him though.”, Mikasa’s fingernails scratched the kitchen counter when she shifted her position, “She loved him, loved him so much. It reminded me of how much I love you.”

“Well, I can’t speak for the Dream Ere-,”, a grin, “Dreamren, but I love you to death. Not sure about catching, but if you want, I’ll buy you the biggest fish I can find.”

She smiled at that, softly.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I think that Eren loved her too, in his own way. It was the world that didn’t allow them to be together.”

“That’s a tragedy if I ever heard one.”, Eren flipped the pancake, “If the world was keeping me away from you, I’d be pretty darn pissed.”

“I don’t think that I would let anything keep us apart.”, Mikasa interjected, unconsciously flexing her impressive musculature.

“And to think that we almost broke up in the past over such stupid stuff.”

“Did we really?”

“Uhm…”, Eren looked up from his work, “You don’t remember?”

“I do, but I’m not sure that it was a breakup. We both felt terrible during it, didn’t we?”

“It was the worst time of my life.”, Eren immediately confessed.

“Same here. My point is, I doubt that we could ever stay apart, we craved each other so much.”

“Makes sense. Somewhat.”

“Yet all these problems and issues we have seem so trivial compared to what she went through. War, apocalypse, fighting for her life every damn day.”, Mikasa shivered, “She was a real hero.”

“Well, I for one am glad that no man-eating giants are chasing us around.”, he put the pancake on the growing pile, making another one right after, “I strongly prefer having you for myself and kissing you while not being dead.”

Stealing the fruit of his labor, Mikasa popped it into her mouth. Chewing, she had to agree with Eren on this one. Living like this was much better than the daily nightmares she had to go through in her past life-or-dreams. Here, Eren wasn’t threatening to destroy the whole world and she wasn’t forced to kill him to save it. Here, she could kiss him as much as she wanted to, their first kiss was very far from being the last. Here, they could get lost in each other’s bodies and consummate their love physically, without a worry in the world. Here, she could fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up to his yawning every morning. Here…. Here was everything she could ever ask for.

With the pancakes gone they settled on the couch, Mikasa lying down with Eren on top of her, tangled together. His head was in her hands and she ran her hands through his hair, once again getting too long. She should cut it. The thought of a haircut brought back yet another slight headache and a new memory popped up, again of the cabin. Mikasa looked at it, inspected the picture in her mind. There was something about that place, the simple wooden building was drawing her in. Maybe she should see it for herself, experience that dream within a dream. Giving in to her temptation, Mikasa spoke up.

“Eren?”

“Yes love?”

“Could we also go to a cabin for a few days?”

“Well aren’t you easily influenced.”, despite the tone of his words, Eren was smiling when he said them, “But I don’t mind, I should take a break from work. We’ll look for something in the morning, it will be nice to leave the city behind for a spell.”

Yet while running away from everything was cool in the concept, they both had several obligations to fulfill. Realizing that, Mikasa’s nose scrunched in irritation.

“Kiyomi won’t be pleased.”

“Neither will Erwin or Levi.”, Eren shrugged, “They’ll survive without us.”

This careless Eren was charming, and Mikasa found herself liking it.

“Okay. Let’s have a romantic getaway then.”

“Following the footsteps of a war hero and man who committed genocide.”

“They were quite the pair.”, Mikasa agreed, “But that only made their love that much special.”

“Let’s see, maybe we will get a whiff of it at the cabin.”

Plans made, dreams explained, pancakes eaten, they were tangled together in that comfortable silence achieved once a pair knows each other inside and out. The sun was slowly rising behind the windows, the night retreating. It was the incredible comfort and warmth Mikasa had in this love, it echoed through her entire being. Realizing it made her smile like an idiot because she and Eren were so lucky that they had each other forever. Although, if those dreams were truly her past life and she had to go through that much shit to get here, this love they had was well deserved.

Hundred times over.

In the end, it was surprisingly easy to arrange their little getaway. Erwin was happy to give Eren time off, Kiyomi would do anything for her star girl, and while Levi complained, he was secretly glad that Mikasa is taking a break. Sure, training was important with the Colosseum closer every day, but mental health was important too, and his sister more than deserved to have time for herself. And that fiancé of hers, Levi supposed. A tiny obstacle arose when Eren tried to pick the location because Mikasa was hard to satisfy.

“Not that one.”, she shook her head, “too modern.”

“Not this one either, I want to be close to the ocean.”

“Nah, not this, It has to be somewhere in the mountains.”

In the end, Eren gave up and let her search by herself while he packed. It didn’t take him long, as they needed just a few necessary things, the rest could always be bought. As he was zipping the bag closed, a sound of joy came from the table.

“Eren! I got it!”

He walked over to her, frowning at the cabin she picked. It looked archaic, old, and wooden, located away from any civilization.

“Looks savage.”

“This is the one. I’m sure of it.”, Mikasa was decided, and Eren wouldn’t argue.

This whole operation was her idea, after all. Mikasa’s cabin had an interesting rental system - once Eren paid the required amount the key would be waiting for them under a doormat. Guess it made sense, considering that there was literally no one around the cabin, and animals could hardly pick up the key and unlock the door. Unless they tried hard, that is. With the money transferred, all that was left was to get dressed and pick up the bags Eren packed, putting it all in the car. It was go time.

She was watching him from the passenger seat, he realized, her grey eyes studying from the dark shadows her makeup created. With a ruffle of her short, red pleated skirt, Mikasa put one foot up, the bottom of her white sneaker sinking a bit into the seat. The sunlight streaming in through the windows shimmered at her jewelry, the earrings and piercings, the studs in her choker, all the necklaces and most prominently on the silver cross that was snug between her breasts. Couldn’t forget her rings too, Eren reminded himself, watching as she smoothed a few bangs back behind her ear. Right, he should be focusing on the road, not on the way Mikasa dressed. Sure, the long black top was nice and all, hell, her whole outfit was amazing, but that was Mikasa for him. Beautifully pulling off the style that made Kiyomi’s teeth grit, because goth was dead but her top model didn’t care in the least.

Wondering if she will say what’s on her mind, Eren focused on the road, only sometimes stealing sidelong glances at her. He watched as Mikasa put one hand up to support her head, the sleeve of her shirt riding down and revealing the netted fingerless glove underneath. It was easy to know why she dressed up like this, even when they were going to a cottage in the middle of nowhere. Goth was her comfort clothing, she knew it inside out and put it on to prevent herself from being nervous. The makeup and jewelry were a routine that calmed her, her armor, it put her mind at ease. Eren knew why the cabin getaway put Mikasa in such a state, it must have been the dream. They worried her, even as they were approaching the romantic alone time, most likely because going there was triggered by them. To get her mind away from it, or offer encouragement, Eren spoke up.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She stared at him for a moment, one black fingernail tapping at the corner of the dark red painted lips.

“I feel strange.”

“Strange good or strange bad? If it’s bad I’m turning the car around.”

“Neither, just strange.”

Talk about lack of information.

“Do you want to go back?”

Mikasa considered it for a moment but shook her head after, the inverted crosses in her ears swinging.

“No.”

The word had a finality to it, and Eren didn’t question it. Mikasa was an adult, she could decide on where she wanted to spend her time. Focusing back on the driving and away from the alluring goth visage on the passenger’s seat, Eren gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter and the car ate away at the distance.

The cabin was everything Mikasa wanted it to. It was wooden, old and looked as if it would fold by a stronger gust of wind. It was perfect. She almost ran to the door, the grass sliding beneath her sneakers, found the key under the doormat and unlocked. Yes, she thought to herself with eyes wandering, this was so close to her dream it was unreal. Almost as if the cabin was torn from her thoughts and put into reality. Eren came up behind her with the bags in his hands, breathing slightly faster than usual. He insisted on carrying everything like the gentleman he was, knowing that Mikasa could carry both him and the bags and not even get winded.

“You like it?”, he asked, putting the burden down and looking over the interior himself.

“It’s amazing, exactly as I wanted it to be.”

Sure, it was rundown, dirty, and probably very far from the health standards Eren would want, but Mikasa was happy. And that’s what mattered.

“Spectacular.

With a smile, Mikasa went out, soaking in the sunrays. Noticing a bench under the window, she crossed the distance to it, running a hand over the aged wood. But just as her skin made contact with the coarse surface, something happened. Splitting headache brought Mikasa down to her knees, eyes watering from the pain. She could see it now, clear as day, a scene unfolding in front of her. Eren was sitting at the bench, strange markings on his face, almost like scars. She, or the other version of her, was standing in front of him, her hair longer than what Mikasa’s current style was. She leaned forward, gently taking Eren’s head in her hands. He looked at her, and the tiredness in his face, that hurt to see. The scene was so painful that it tugged at Mikasa’s heart, the ache only intensifying when the other girl spoke, so softly. She spoke to that tired man and his face lit up as if her words could take away the pain and suffering he was experiencing. As if her voice was that of an angel, sent to finally free him from his torment.

“See you later, Eren.”, the other Mikasa said before planting a kiss on his lips.

Her vision blurring, she clutched her head against nausea, the scene evaporating into nothingness.

“Hey, Miki? Miki are you okay?”, a shuffle of boots on the ground and suddenly there was a presence next to her.

That was Eren, her Eren, the one with a manbun and no scars on his face. She leaned onto his body for support, closing her eyes and breathing evenly, the headache slowly fading.

“Is something wrong? Are you sick?”, the doctor in him was out now, hands gently gliding over her face to check. She opened her eyes, letting him see her pupils.

“I’m fine.”, she said, “Just a headache.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that.

“And I saw a vision.”, she added, making his eyes widen.

“Vision? Like your dreams?”

“Yes... But I’m not asleep, am I?”

Gently as he could, Eren walked her over to the bench, the same on the other Eren was sitting at. There, she told him everything she saw, down to every tiny detail.

“I guess being here is too similar to what the dream was about.”, she concluded, “It must have triggered my “memories” somehow.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.”, the answer was immediate, “I might get more visions, but I feel so peaceful here, it’s beautiful.”

Eren chewed his bottom lip, obviously worried about her wellbeing, but Mikasa was determined. Leaning closer, she kissed him, trying to put his fears to rest.

“I promise that I’ll tell you when I feel unwell. Okay?”

Maybe moved by the kiss, or just because he was very bad at saying “No” to her in general, Eren agreed.

“Let’s stay here a while.”, he said, most likely to make sure that Mikasa was all right, but she didn’t complain.

Leaning on his shoulder, Mikasa felt his arm wrap around her as he pulled her close, and they sat together on the bench, staring over the never-ending ocean. She was right, it was beautiful.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #cottagecore

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hellowkatey · 4 years ago

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Febuwhump Day 20

Prompt: Betrayal

Read on AO3

Shattered... (from a Certain Point of View)

Never in Rex's short life did he think he would ever betray his Jedi. None of them. Not General Kenobi or Skywalker. Certainly not Commander Tano. To follow orders was part of his programming, but not only that. He would follow his leaders to hell and back if they asked him-- if he considers Umbara or Zygerria and Kadavo hell, then he truly did. The Jedi have become honorary brothers in his mind. They put their lives on the line right next to him and the others, most of the time more-so. They've saved his life more times than he can count, only to be rivaled by the number of times they've gotten him into trouble.

They earned his respect. His friendship. And the respect and friendship of the other men.

Which is why, when the hooded figure shows up on the holo and utters a phrase Rex has never heard before, but suddenly just knows what to do...

"Execute Order 66"

He feels a part of him snap into place, and another part of him shatter into pieces.

"Yes, Lord Sidious," he replies, a surge of adrenaline and anger coursing through him. The door behind him opens, and Rex tightens the grip on his blaster.

But when he hears her voice...

"Rex!"

So familiar, tugging at memories so fond.

"It's Anakin."

Another name he knows too well. Too closely. The hand holding his helmet begins to quiver.

"I feel like something terrible has happened."

Something terrible is about to happen. It's the strangest sensation. Like his mind has been split into two and both sides are fighting for dominance. One side is telling him to draw his blaster and shoot Ahsoka Tano before she has a chance to do a thing. He's a quick shot, and if he misses there are guards at the door.

Good soldiers follow orders.

The other side is screaming at him. Pleading him. No! This is wrong! You can't do this!

His helmet slips from his grip and clatters to the floor. She's still standing behind him, and he can hear the confusion in her voice as the commlink tones of the other troopers begin to chime in.

"Rex?"

He knows the sound of blasters being aimed far too well. The two guards have received their orders. In a moment Ahsoka Tano will be dead. Rex draws in a breath. The mere thought of that as a truth, makes his entire body feel numb.

"No," he says firmly, but the shake in his voice is undeniable. He turns around, taking in the sight of the two troopers with orange and white painted helmets ready to fire. "I'll do it,"

"Rex? What's happening?"

He doesn't even remember picking up both his blasters before he's raising them, both pointed straight at her head. Staring down barrels, Rex finally looks at her. Looks her in the eye. All he can see in her big blue eyes and young face is the look of utter confusion and alarm. A kid! She's only a kid!

"Stay back!" he yells. His hands have never shaken like this before but now they won't stop. He's taken countless lives in this--this war for the Republic. Or for the Separatists? Who is winning now? Was anyone ever winning? He has no idea. What he does know is his hands have never shaken and he hardly ever misses a shot, but right now it is looking like both of these things are his reality. A part of him is frustrated and a part of him is praying to whatever higher power that may be listening that he misses this shot, please. "Find him," he says, feeling that his free will is quickly being overtaken. Like a parasite invading his brain, the good memories of Tano, Skywalker, and Kenobi are being pushed out by force. "Find him. Fives."

He can't take it anymore.

"Find him!" he screams and then fires his blaster wildly in the wrong direction. It's all the warning she needs. Ahsoka bolts into action, moving faster than his eyes can even perceive. Faster than he can react to her body slamming into his and cracking the back of his head into the console. White-hot pain flashes through him and he crumbles to the ground with black spots dancing before his eyes.

Execute Order 66, the shrill voice echos in his mind. Kill the Jedi. Good soldiers follow orders.

He groans, pushing through the haze of pain and blaster shots to get back on his feet. He hears his name being called, sounding faraway, but he can feel that it's near.

Rex starts to fire again. And again. Not really knowing where he's aiming, just knowing that he needs to kill the Jedi.

And when she disappears, the urge only grows.

__________

They search the ship. Tirelessly. Frantically. Like nothing else has mattered this much the entire war.

Except it has. Everything has been an uphill battle and we have done it every time with the help and guidance of the Jedi.

He grits his teeth. Nearly slams his fist into the wall of the lift he's in. Their orders are to execute her.

When have the orders of this Lord Sidious ever mattered before?

Rex's shoulder slams into a doorframe he wasn't paying attention to. He hisses at the blunt pain, shakes it off. A squad of troopers passes him in a steady jog. Headed to their sector. They will find her if they have to tear this ship apart.

He starts to run, but is caught by troublesome droids blocking his path. He slams into one, taking an opportunity to kick it.

"Hey! Hey, out of the way." The droid seems to laugh at him, and he has half a mind to run his blaster through it instead. Then the blast doors shut around him, locking him in the hallway. "Are you cross-wired?"

A holographic Commander Tano appears from within the droid. "Rex. I think I know what's happening. I saw your report on Fives,"

Fives. Rex's entire body shutters at the remembrance of his death. How he fell limp in his arms.

"It isn't your fault." There's a surprising amount of sympathy in her eyes to be looking at the man who just tried to murder her. "You were programmed. Your mind was altered to do this when you were very young. I can help you."

Good soldiers follow orders.

You were programmed.

The hologram dissipates. His eyebrows slant. Another surge of anger from a place deep with him. He points the blaster at the droid as if it could tell him anything of use. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here," as he turns, a burst of electricity shoots through him, and the world goes black.

__________

The sound of battle wakes Rex up better than any alarm. His heart is already pounding with adrenaline, but when he opens his eyes he finds he is much less prepared for battle than his body seems to be.

His head is pounding. Lights too bright. He tries to process what's going on around him.

Medbay. Lights in medbay. Blasters. Stretcher. Injured? Lightsaber.

Lightsaber. Ahsoka.

Rex pushes through the wave of nausea and finds himself on the receiving end of an endless stream of blaster shots. He'd be more blaster wounds than man if it weren't for Commander Tano crouched at the end of his bed, the bright blue of her lightsabers moving at an impossible speed. She blocks every single blast with perfect precision, but Rex realizes none are being aimed back at the troopers.

The troopers are trying to kill her. He reaches for his guns as a blast manages to strike her shoulder and she staggers back. He aims them as she screams for the droid to respond, her energy obviously waning.

Rex remembers the last time he picked up both his blasters. They were pointed at his Jedi. Armed to kill. But the feeling is suddenly gone from his system. The voice no longer echos in his mind.

He aims. He shoots. This time, he doesn't miss.

Four brothers cry out as his shots hit as they always do, their bodies falling as the door finally shuts. In the sudden silence of immediate ceasefire, Commander Tano turns around and looks at him with those big blue eyes. Her young face is full of confusion and alarm..,. but also hope.

And to see her look at him with hope is the worst possible way she could have looked at him because. when he looks at her all he can see is the reflection of his own betrayal. She shouldn't be staring at him with such concern, moving toward him instead of running away.

His hands start to shake again. He's still pointing his pistols at her, but his fingers aren't even on the triggers. He is just too shellshocked to know what to even do right now. If she ignited her sabers and took him out, he wouldn't blame her in the slightest.

She should hate him. She should kill him. She has every right to that.

Instead, she asks if he is okay.

No, I am not okay... but hearing her voice calms him. Snaps him out of the haze of waking up to such a shock, and he slowly lowers the blasters.

"Yeah. Yeah, kid, I'm okay."

The pounding in his head begs to differ. He reaches up to the source, feeling a thick bandage on the side of his head. You were programmed.

They put a chip in his head to control him when they needed him. To control all of the clones.

"I was framed because I know the truth... the truth about a plot. A massive deception... A sinister plot in the works against the Jedi!"

Shame courses through him at the judgment he cast upon his friend. The disbelief at what he was saying. Fives knew. Fives was right.

"It's in all of us. Every clone."

Every clone.

It sounded crazy at the time. He thought Fives had lost it the way he'd seen countless other brothers descend into madness.

"It's bigger than any of us. Than anything I could have imagined."

Now Rex sees it. The entire plan in action with no way of stopping it. The clones have their orders to kill their Jedi, and he knows for a fact that on their own, the Jedi don't stand a chance against their battalions of thousands.

"I just wanted to do my duty... The mission... the nightmares... they're finally... over"

Fives' last words hit him like a speeder to the stomach. All this time they were put here not to fight and die for the Republic, but to act as sleeper agents until they were needed. Mere pawns created for Lord Sidious's master plan that Rex doesn't even fully understand. What scenario constitutes a purging of an entire religion? It's a war crime at the very least. Their duty was always what they were told to do... but no more. He is tired of being a pawn. He doesn't have anything forcing him into obedience hidden within his mind.

Now, he has a new duty. To stay by Commander Tano's side, and try to stand by those who fought alongside them the last few years. Good soldiers follow orders, but better soldiers do what's right.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday20 #betrayal #rex #captain rex #ahsoka tano #shattered #i can really write 4000 words in like 6 hours but not an 800 word essay in a week.#dialogue from s7e11 and s6e4

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mimssides · 4 years ago

Text

Never Met You

Chapter 8: Loyalty

To trust one has to give others power over themselves. Doing so can be most dangerous but also most rewarding thing one ever experiences

Logan’s chamber was lighted dimly. It was early in the evening but most of the castle had already settled for the night since tomorrow would be the day where the conflict with Ragan would finally take form in battle. Troupes were waiting at the border and before the sun would rise, Logan would be with them as well. He had insisted on going there and gotten his will despite Janus’s and Roman’s protests.

Only Green had stood behind him and even reminded Janus that Logan was a trained soldier, and was most likely better prepared to take on people in a fight than Janus had ever been. The argument had made Logan smile. It still made him smile and he put his hand on his chest. Something was there. Something he didn’t understand or expect. And he would have to wait until the fight had been fought before he could figure out what was happening with him.

Yet now he would have to focus on what was to happen next. He would have to focus on the first battle, on the war at the doorsteps of their kingdom. He hoped he would do well enough for his people.

A knock on the door. Logan called for them to enter. Janus and Green came in and with no words spoken, Janus sat down next to Logan on the edge of his bed. Green remained standing close to the door and looked to the floor.

In a neutral tone Janus said: “Everything is ready for tomorrow. You still wish to go?”

“Yes, I still wish to go,” Logan persisted coldly. “We both knew the answer to that question.”

“Well, sue me for hoping you would come to your senses. Just because you have a military background that doesn’t mean you need to partake in the war directly. Even George won’t show up personally. It’s not a place for a king,” Janus said more forcefully this time.

“No, it isn’t. But for a solider it is and as a soldier I came to court. I am aware that my role has changed but I don’t wish to simply stand by as citizens of Theana get slaughtered in my name. It is not the ruler I wish to be.”

“I understand. I find it foolish but I understand.”

“Janus…” Logan mumbled at the resigned response of his friend.

The Royal Advisor didn’t pay his mumbling any mind. He knew what kind of man Logan was. He knew that it was pointless to try and steer him into a different direction with any argument he could possibly muster right now. And yet he had to try. For Roman’s sake. For the kingdom’s sake. And for his oath’s sake.

***

The halls of the castle were long and shiny. Much shiner than anything Janus had ever seen in his life. His father held his hand and his mother had reminded him to be well-behaved when he and father had left for the trip. Janus did not really know what well-behaved meant but he had agreed nevertheless.

His mother was happy when he agreed with her and he liked her being happy.

He also liked the shiny wall and hallway. People were walking around, servants is what his father called them, and they all lowered their heads when they encountered his father. That was because his father was important to the kingdom, Janus knew that.

He knew a lot of things for a four-year-old.

He also knew that it was serious when his father took a deep breath and told him to straighten up when they stood in front of a huge door with two guards on each side. And so, Janus straightened up and watched as the guards opened the door. Inside there was a big room filled with more toys than he had ever seen. He wanted to run inside but stopped and looked up to his father who was still holding his hand and was looking from him towards the divan inside of the room. Janus followed his look and saw four people sit on the divan.

King Aneas and Queen Rhea holding hands and each had a boy on their lap. The boys were a little taller than Janus, the one on the King Aneas’s lap wore a green tunic and the one on Queen Rhea’s lap wore a red tunic. The green one smiled brightly while the red one hid in his mother’s chest.

Once more Janus looked up to his father. He nodded and let go of his hand. Janus slowly walked inside in front of the royal family. He knew he was not supposed to look into their eyes and looked to his feet as he did a little bow.

He heard a giggle and looked up. The green one was laughing and waved at Janus. Janus waved back and saw how the red one started to smile too and waved back.

“You must be Janus” Queen Rhea said and Janus nodded.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” King Aneas added and Janus smiled.

Janus’s father walked up to Janus and bowed before the royal couple. Both bowed their heads as well and smiled at him.

Janus’s father said: “Their Majesties. It is an honour to introduce you to my son. May I say something before █████ ██████ █████ and Crown Prince Roman can acquaint themselves himself with my son?”

Queen Rhea waved her hand in approval and Janus’s father got down on one knee looking at Janus. Firmly he put his left hand on Janus’s shoulder and looked at him intently. Janus knew that that meant he had to listen very closely to his father.

“The Princes Prince,” Janus’s father said and squeezed Janus’s shoulder, “will grow up, study and train to become the next king and archduke of Theana. That means they he will hold much power and people will try to influence and deter them him from their his way. That is one of the reasons why our family has sworn to protect the rulers of Theana. You, Janus, will grow up alongside them him and will be trained to protect and advice the Crown Prince to the best to your abilities. That is a big responsibility but I am positive that you will grow into this role and bring honour to our family.”

Janus nodded solemnly and his father smiled a tiny bit. That made Janus very happy even though he was not entirely sure what his father had talked about. Then his father stood up again and motioned him towards the divan. The kid in green had already climbed off and was jumping towards Janus while the kid in red was still climbing off his Queen Rhea’s lap.

“█████ wait!” the red boy whined and █████ turned to him and sticked out his tongue.

Janus giggled and both boys made an offended noise and █████ tackled Janus to the floor.

“Only I may laugh at Roman!” █████ announced proudly with a wide grin.

Janus held back a giggle and nodded as seriously as he could. █████ looked happy with that answer and climbed off Janus. He stretched out his hand to help him stand up. Then █████ tilted his head and asked: “So you will be my advisor now? My best friend?”

Janus nodded.

█████ waited for a moment and asked: “Do you swear it?”

And Janus replied: “I swear on my life that I will be your bestest friend and advisor!”

***

“I worry for you, Logan. Your health has been getting worse and worse these days and you simply decline any form of help. The people need you alive and healthy. Roman can’t become king and I do believe you are the best fit for this role. And you are my friend. I don’t want to see you suffering.”

“I am touched by your concern Janus. I truly am. And if we weren’t in this situation I would go to our physician, I guarantee it. But if any word goes out that I might not be at my highest anyone in my presence might be in danger. Green was right when he said that if I show weakness, they will use it against me. I can’t risk that now. But I will see one once this is over. I promise,” Logan answered once more in the hopes that Janus would give in.

But Janus did not give in. He frowned and got up frustratedly and massaged his temples. He pressed his lips together and looked from the floor over to Green. The guard glimpsed over to him and Janus reminded himself that maybe he was not to one to get some sense into Logan. Maybe he would have to hand the torch to him. But one last time Janus would try to appeal to Logan’s heart instead of his mind and hope it would do something.

“We don’t know when this will be over, Logan. And we need you here well during all of it. Roman can’t go on the throne. It’s not an option and we all, I, can’t afford to lose you.”

Logan simply nodded at the last statement and looked towards the floor. He simply was a piece on the cheese board. And Janus was trying to keep him from getting into a checkmate. This was his function as an advisor, no matter how much of a friend Janus claimed to be. In the end, he was simply doing his job. In the end, Logan’s health was Janus’s job and Logan was a fool to think he had agency over his actions and his body when he accepted the crown.

“It is too late for me to see her now. I will go after the first battle is fought, not earlier not later. You have my word.”

Janus sighed but accepted Logan’s stubbornness. At least, he got him to see their physician in the foreseeable future. Quietly, he bowed his head and walked towards the door.

Green met Janus’s gaze. He saw the pledge in Janus’s look and swallowed silently as Janus looked back over his shoulder and told Logan: “I bid you goodnight, my friend. Rest well.”

“Thank you. You too,” Logan said back as he stared down in his lap.

The door closed but there were steps approaching him again. Beyond his control, Logan found himself smiling.

“Sit with me.”

Logan lifted his gaze and met Green’s eyes. There was a question if he should dare to do so. The light twitch of Logan’s eyebrows was answer enough and Green sat down next to his king. As he sat the bed moved slightly under his weight and Logan felt comfort coming from the sensation. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Just by that alone Logan felt his walls crumble. His thoughts stilled and he sat his hands down next to him on his bed. With his right hand he accidentally brushed Green’s leg.

Green inhaled softly and they looked at each other.

“Are you worried about seeing the physician, Your Majesty?”

Logan let his shoulders sink and gave himself a moment before answering.

“I am uneasy with the dizziness, I will admit. But it has lessened a little this last week and so has the nausea.”

“I see. Why do you not want to know the cause? You are otherwise so curious about everything, why not knowing for certain what you are dealing with?”

“If I was certain that it isn’t anything big, I would agree with you,” Logan whispered softly.

Green put his hand between them next to his.

“But I am not certain,” Logan continued. “And if it is something bigger, something more bothersome or even life-threatening, I won’t be able to give my all for Theana. And I can’t risk that. I can’t get distracted now.”

Green shot Logan a look filled with worry. It was not what Logan wished for but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Green.

“I see. Even now you are holding us over your own well-being. You are truly a king for the ages,” Green said with a wavering voice.

Logan didn’t know why that phrase shook him as much as it did but his hand flinched and he touched Green’s. He didn’t pull away. They both held their breath.

Green swallowed. He blinked and looked into Logan’s mismatched eyes. Brown like the soil of the forest and the dark shade of blue during dusk.

“I understand even if it pains me. I understand. And I would act the same. I will act the same, Your Majesty. These people, these lands, this kingdom. They mean everything to me. And I will do all I can for them. I swear to lay down my life if it is what it takes. For this kingdom. Its people.”

Words were said without leaving his mouth. Logan had never heard anything so clear as those words. He put his thumb gingerly over the back of Green’s hand. Green batted his eyelashes and Logan put his left hand over his heart. They shifted in their seats, both being drawn closer and Green’s eyes hanging on Logan’s lips.

“Patton is worried about you not coming back.”

Logan’s voice was breathy and quiet.

“I’m worried about not coming back to him.”

“I’m worried about you not coming back at all.”

They leaned forward. A dry whimper escaped Green’s throat as their foreheads touched. Their noses were brushing against each other and so little lacked for their lips to touch. And yet it was a world between them.

They knew they couldn’t. They knew it was not possible now. Maybe never.

Green was not strong enough to pull away. They barely touched, the skin on his face was burning and back of his hand prickled so wonderfully. He couldn’t pull away.

Logan did not want to pull away. He wanted to feel more, wanted Green more. He wanted to hear his voice, have him undo his bun and run his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to pull away.

But eventually Logan did pull away. He looked at Green opening his eyes, at the strong emerald colour and the watery shimmer. He wanted to make it go away. He wanted to make the sadness disappear. But he couldn’t do that.

They moved apart. Green’s arms were shaking and Logan felt so very guilty. He should have done something. He didn’t know what but he felt like he should have done something and it would have kept Green from feeling like this.

“I should not have put you in this situation,” Logan said but his heart was screeching with something else. “I abuse my power when I act like this. I apologize. I shouldn’t force myself onto you.”

The something within Logan was screaming louder when Green forced himself to look away from him. It cried and yowled in agony when Green slid away from him.

“May I leave now?”

Logan bowed his head. Green got up and left.

Logan sat there for some time. It felt like his chest had been ripped apart. He slid under his covers. His bed was too big. His covers were warm but in a wrong way. He hugged one of his blankets and pressed it to his chest. He hugged them fiercely and hoped that somehow, he would find sleep.

___

Green could scream. Green could die on the spot.

Abuse my power.

Was that what he had thought back when he had started working with Green? That Green had abused his power? That he tried to force him into something? That his intrigue with Logan had been pretended? That his interest hadn’t been sincere from the very beginning?

How much he had wanted to kiss Logan senselessly, to make him realize that he hadn’t been forcing him to anything. To show him what and how he felt. But no. He had to sit back. Had to get away from his love, from his heart. And tomorrow he would have to accompany him to a battle they shouldn’t need to fight. Because George shouldn’t hate Logan. Because they shouldn’t be in a war with Ragan.

Why even be alive? Why had he said anything? It wouldn’t have made a difference. She hadn’t been able to tell that he wasn’t one of them. Or that Roman was one of them for that matter. The difference was so tiny and laughable. It wasn’t even really there anymore and it was what had cost him everything. For the first time of his life he understood why his father had hated his heritage so much.

“I will go with him.”

Green hadn’t noticed how his feet had carried him to his- to Prince Roman’s quarters. He just realized when he stood in front of the bedroom door and heard Janus talking. Quickly Green held his breath and listened to the response Roman shot him.

“You will go and I can’t? How is that sensible! You are no fighter! You are our advisor and the military never interested you in any way!”

“Just because it does not interest me doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about it. Also, I was trained to fight. I know how to throw of an attacker. And lastly, I can’t allow you close to a battlefield, Roman.”

“I’ve never even gotten close to lose control like that!”

“And I’m not going to chance it!” Janus shouted and Green shut his eyes with a wince.

“Dude? What are you doing here?”

Green forced himself to open his eyes and shot around. Virgil was standing in front of him.

His brain went blank.

He said something and turned on his heels. He marched away until he felt the cooling evening air in his nostrils. His cheeks were cool too. He was crying. With a huff he brushed the tears away and went to his quarter. He took off his clothes and washed his face and brushed his teeth.

For a few hours he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Spending one more night thinking about breaking free, giving them hints on who he was and who they were to him. Spending one more night on a hopeless endeavour.

It was around three in the morning when he got up, dressed himself and left the courtyard. He walked to the orphanage. Climbed the window and entered the room where Patton was sleeping. Silently he walked to his bed and knelt down. There were other kids but none of them stirred. It was only Patton who batted his eyes open and looked at Green.

A sleepy grin before it turned into a sad smile. Green took him in his arms and let the boy hug him fiercely. He let him mutter ‘goodbye’ and ‘please don’t go’ without any objections. He didn’t want to leave this boy without a father. He knew what that felt like.

“I have to go to the king now,” Green whispered and scratched Patton’s little head fondly. “I have to protect him and make sure that he is okay. But when I come back, I’ll make sure to tell you 'goodnight' every night in a soft bed in our home. To give you all the goodnight kisses and cuddles you want.”

“Really?”

Patton’s voice was so small and hopeful. It gave Green the strength to endure this life a little longer. It gave him the determination to try and get back from the battlefield.

“Yah, I promise.”

One last goodnight and he tucked the boy into his bed. Silently he climbed out the window and went back to the castle.

A war was awaiting them and Green it would not let it reach his castles gates.

___

Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!

#logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fantasy au #slight suicidal thinking #almost kissing #Never Met You #talk of war #war #sanders sides #eir writes #please reblog

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writer-k-pop · 4 years ago

Text

The Artist (x.m.h.) - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if you this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: Ending A - 3.3k / Ending B - 3.4k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"I can't believe you dated him!" Mun Hee says excitedly as we stroll through the hotel.

"You don't even know the man I loved." I tell him like he's lost his mind.

Mun Hee shakes his head, "I looked at his palm. He had 16 lives!" He exclaims, throwing his hands up in amazement. "That's one of the biggest amounts I've ever seen!"

I fight the smile that forces its way onto my face. Mun Hee's constant amazement whenever someone comes in with more than the average amount of lives amuses me. "I once heard of a woman with over 30 lives." I tell him.

"They go up that high?" Mun Hee's eyes grow to the size of tea cups.

"Apparently." I say, "How did he look?" I ask, crossing my arms.

Mun Hee shrugs, "Fine. I don't know how long it's been since he passed but his clothes were pretty wrinkled and he looked a bit thin."

I purse my lips in concern but remind myself that he'll change into the Minghao I remember. The first life Minghao.

"Vroom! Vroom!" A child vocalizes and accidentally barrels into my legs.

Instinctively, I reach down to steady him.

"Seok Jin!" A woman comes walking up to me with an apologetic look on her face, "I am so sorry."

I look from the child to the mother then to the father who walks up behind them. A family. In my hotel. With a child.

I force a smile to cover the nausea spinning in my stomach. What if the child is only one its first life? How could the Gods send such a child to me?

"I told you not to run in the lobby." The mother kneels in front of her son and scolds him, "Apologize right now, Seok Jin."

The child twists his hands together, knowing he's done something wrong. "I'm sorry." He says quietly.

I squat down to be level with him and meet his eyes. "That's okay. I forgive you." I tell him and pick up the toy car he dropped when he hit me, "Just don't do it again and be very careful where you walk." I remind him and hand over the toy.

The boy takes the toy and holds it close to his chest while nodding.

Satisfied, I stand back up and continue walking with Mun Hee.

"How many?" I ask when we're far enough away.

"The parents both had three." Mun Hee tells me, "The boy had 12."

I nod, "He'll leave with the parents?" I ask.

Mun Hee nods.

It happens rarely but if a child under the age of 13 arrives at our hotel, the hotel's life replay doesn't occur for them because they are too young to understand it. If the child arrives alone, we usually arrange a transfer for them right away. But if they arrive with parents or siblings, we send them away at the same time as their parents or siblings.

Knowing that the boy had lived 12 lives quiets the nausea I had felt earlier. For a second, I had worried that it was his first life and felt sick that the Gods were pulling him away.

"Room?" I ask Mun Hee as we turn down another passage.

"711." Mun Hee answers.

"You said 16 days?" I question.

Mun Hee nods, "16 days."

I breath out, "Let the waiting begin."

~The Sixteenth Day~

"What's that?" Mun Hee asks from behind me, scaring me half to death, and nearly making me drop the precious painting in my hands.

"Do not sneak up on me." I warn him then turn to show him the artwork. "It's a piece of Minghao's."

"You kept it?" He gingerly takes it from my hands and gazes over it.

"It was a gift. Of course I kept it." I tell him, "I just kept it hidden."

"Why?" Mun Hee asks like that was the dumbest decision I have ever made, "I mean look at the colors! And the emotions. You can really tell he put his whole heart into this."

"Exactly." I sigh. Taking the painting back from him, I place it back in its hiding spot. "He put his entire heart into it."

"Ah." Mun Hee realizes and then moves his hands to shake the thoughts away. "Anyway, he's there already. He had asked to get there earlier."

I abruptly turn to him, "What do you mean he wanted to get there 'early'?"

Mun Hee shrugs, "I'm guessing he wanted to do some art in your garden cause he also asked for paper and a pencil."

I scrunch my face up, wondering why he would want to draw anything in that dead garden. Wanting to see for myself, I turn and walk out of my office with Mun Hee shutting the doors behind me.

"Did you know that he was a professional swimmer in 14th life?" Mun Hee questions with excitement. When I stay silent, he continues, "Yeah, a couple days ago, he spent the entire day in the pool, just swimming laps."

I nod, silently, not exactly caring about any of his lives besides the first.

"And, and in his fifth life, he ran an orphanage with his wife and, oh my goodness, the stories he told were just heartbreaking." Mun Hee continues.

I roll my eyes and wonder when he will shut up.

"Did he like wine when he lived his first live?" Mun Hee asks me.

I give him a confused look as we exit the elevator.

"He drank at least like a bottle a day." He informs me. "And apparently, in one of his lives, he told me which, I just can't remember which one, but he was a wine maker person. Really fascinating."

"Mun Hee." I stop and turn towards him.

"Yes?" Mun Hee asks with innocence.

"Don't you have a front desk to watch over?" I question, hinting that he should leave.

He doesn't understand the hint but does realize he left the front desk unattended so he quickly rushes off and I am finally left to my own thoughts.

Thankful that I wore flats today, I quietly approach the garden with the sound of pencil graphite sliding against paper guiding me.

Instead of sitting on the bench, Minghao sits at the little table off to the side. A bottle of champagne sits between two tall glasses, one of which has been filled. Minghao has his back to me and he is constantly looking between the paper in his hand and the bare tree that sits in the middle of the garden.

I move closer but my shadow elongates and crosses Minghao's line of vision.

"You weren't thinking of sneaking up on me, were you, (y/n)?" He asks, glancing back at me with a lazy smile.

"I'm just naturally quiet." I say and slide into the unoccupied chair next to him. Leaning over, I peek at the drawing he's working on. He's captured only the tree and none of the chrysanthemums.

"What do you think?" Minghao asks, tilting the paper to give me a better view.

"You gave it way more life than it actually has." I tell him my honest opinion.

"But the real tree isn't dead which means it has some life left." Minghao counters, setting the paper on the table. He picks up his filled glass and inspects the liquid.

"I'm pretty sure it's been dead since the beginning of time." I mutter.

"You never told me you liked champagne so much." Minhao comments, ignoring my mumbling.

I grab the bottle and pour myself a glass, "I do, but you were a wine lover and I liked the wines you picked. So I had no complaints." I explain and take a sip.

"And you hid the best stuff from me." Minghao places a hand over his heart before sipping from his glass.

"You know, Mun Hee's probably going to remember you for a long time." I comment, taking in his features. His long hair, his gentle eyes, his round cheeks, and his sharp lips.

"The attendant?" Minghao wonders and I nod. "He was entertaining. Had a lot of questions. Reminded me of an old friend in one of my lives. You know the kind that is like a little kid, constantly wondering why and laughing at everything you say?"

I nod, agreeing with his perfect description of Mun Hee. "He has his moments."

Minghao leans back and looks up at the glass ceiling. "So, this is where you've been hiding."

"It is." I answer his statement question. "Surprised?"

He frowns and shakes his head, "Not at all. It actually makes a lot of sense now." He looks at me, "How you said you grew poor, made it rich, but actually hated all the riches you had obtained. It all makes sense."

I rest my chin in my hand and just gaze at Minghao. Just taking in his presence and the calm that he always gave me.

"Remember the one painting we did together?" Minghao asks.

My back straightens remembering the piece very well. "The one we danced on?" I want to clarify incase I'm remembering the wrong one.

But Minghao nods, confirming my thoughts. "It never sold." He smirks. "But I had always secretly hoped it wouldn't so it was a win for me."

"It was a really big piece." I chuckle, "Did anyone have room for that?"

He giggles, "It was kind ambitious but it was my favorite."

"You were always a sucker for the abstracts." I tell him with a smile.

"Remember how we did it?" He quizzes me, rising to his feet, and holding out a hand.

I tilt my head at him curiously. Minghao bounces his hand at me, telling me to take it. Cautiously, I place my hand in his and within two seconds, I'm pulled to my feet and away from the table. Minghao effortlessly twirls me so I'm facing him with one hand on my waist and the other outstretched with mine still in his grasp.

"Remember?" He repeats his question and begins to move back.

Without having to think much, my body follows his as we dance before the tree that keeps me tied here. I smile as the memory returns with the feeling of the cold, wet paint squishing between my toes still attached. With a song playing only in our minds, we move together like no time has passed between us. Even though it has been so long, my eyes don't linger on my feet. Instead they stay locked on Minghao's eyes which are locked onto mine. A lifetime of unspoken stories swim just under the surface and with every physical step I take, I take one more step into that sea.

With one last twirl, our movements cease but we stay locked together. Our foot prints created a map of our dance in the dirt around us. A map that will soon be gone.

"(y/n), you do remember." Minghao says happily, releasing me.

I quickly grab his hand again, "Who said you could let go?" I question.

He chuckles, "I'm not going to run away. " Minghao nods towards the table, "Plus I want to finish drawing your dead-yet-still-alive tree."

"It's dead." I correct him quietly.

"Says the one who is alive but also not alive." He smirks and leads me back to the table. Sitting back down, he picks up the paper and pencil while I scoot my chair closer and rest my chin on his shoulder to watch his process.

"Did you ever marry?" I wonder and his pencil falters against the paper.

"Do you really want to know?" He responds with a question.

I nod, "I do. I didn't stick around to find out what kind of life you had and I want to know."

Minghao sighs, "I did marry in that life." He answers.

"Did you love her?" I side glance at him.

His eyes lift from the paper and land on the chrysanthemums at the base of the tree. "I did. And I loved the three children we raised together."

My lips form a small smile in content. "Three children is less than what you had always hoped for." I point out, thinking back to our late night conversations. The ones where we'd be tangled in the sheets and in each other and just talking about our future dreams.

"I lowered the number after you left." He tells me, resuming his drawing.

"Why?" I ask, pulling away and resting my head on my fist.

"Because I was so sure that we'd have a family together. So when you left, it was like one of those desired children also left with you and I couldn't see myself happy if I had the four with another woman." Minghao explains, "It just didn't seem right."

"Did your wife want four?" I wonder, hoping I didn't take away another woman's dream.

Minghao shakes his head, "No, she always wanted just three so it worked out."

"What were their names?" I ask, curious about his life.

"Maria was our first born. Then we had Jackson. And our youngest was Renjun." Minghao recites their names as I sip from one of the champagne glasses, not caring who's it is.

"Thank you." I say, relieved when I don't hear my name among his children.

"For what?" Minghao looks at me.

"For not naming any of your children after someone like me, someone cursed." I explain.

Minghao nods in understanding, "I thought about it." He says, returning to his drawing, "But that name was saved for the fourth child."

"Even then, I wouldn't have let you name a child after me." I tell him. "My name is one that should disappear when I do. It doesn't need to be around any longer."

"Finished." Minghao holds up the drawing after placing the pencil behind his ear.

The tree that sits on the paper is a good replica of the one we're sat in front of. Leaning in closer, I let my eyes travel up and down the drawn tree.

"You even copied its cracks." I notice the shadowed divots in the trunk.

"Every little piece counts." Minghao simply states.

"I still think it has too much life in it." I sit back in my chair.

Minghao turns in his chair to fully face me, "Even after all these years, you still don't think it's alive?"

I sigh and let my eyes wander over to the tree. "That tree isn't alive. It just stands there. Day in and day out." I meet his gaze again, "If it were removed from this garden, it wouldn't exist."

He picks up his glass then does a double take. "Did you drink from my glass again?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

I laugh at his reference to me always, purposefully or accidentally, drinking from his glass. "Maybe. I wasn't paying attention."

Minghao smiles and finishes off his glass.

For the following hours, and through another bottle of champagne, Minghao tells me about his life. The places he got to travel to because his art was being featured. How Maria followed him and studied the arts. How Jackson was always getting into trouble. How Renjun was so quiet and such a daddy's boy that his wife began to joke that he definitely wasn't hers. The stories of the grandchildren he got to see.

When the stories and champagne subsided, Minghao gazed out the window with a pensive look on his face. I hold onto his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Can I ask for one last favor?" He says, looking down at our hands.

"What is it?" I ask, worried I might have to turn him down. Some things I can do, but most are out of my control.

Minghao raises his head and meets my gaze. "Dance with me one more time?" He asks.

I smile, "Of course." I tell him and we both rise our feet.

As we dance, I get lost in him. Lost in the way his body feels against mine. Lost in the way we breath together. Lost in the way everything disappears when we step in time together. I don't know how long we dance for. But it is long enough for the orange glow to dim and for a cool breeze to remind me of what comes next.

"Do I leave from here?" Minghao asks, leaning his forehead against mine.

"No." I whisper, "There's a car waiting for you out back."

"And you can't come with me cause I wasn't the first?" He wonders.

I shake my head, "I can't go with you." I repeat.

Minghao wraps his arms around my back and pulls me in close, "Whoever the guy is, he's one damn lucky man."

I smile, thinking of the first who is still to come. "We should get going before Shin sends his minions searching for you."

"He doesn't really have minions, does he?" Minghao asks, resting an arm around my shoulders.

"I don't really know. He's always threatening me with them but I've never actually seen them." I answer as we walk away from the garden, the two champagne bottles and two glasses sitting next to the abandoned drawing.

"What will you do while you wait?" Minghao asks, matching his pace with mine.

I shrug, "Probably the same thing I do everyday."

"Run a hotel and drink?" Minghao guesses with a laugh.

"Something like that." I agree knowing he's hit the nail on the head.

"You should start packing up your things, shouldn't you?" Minghao worries.

I shake my head, "I don't need to take anything with me when I leave. Much like you. I'll just go as I am."

"I guess that makes things a little easier." He declares, not having thought of that fact.

As we exit the back doors, Minghao takes in a large breath. We walk towards the idling car while Shin stands and simply watches us approach.

"Is he always that serious?" Minghao leans down and whispers to me.

"Unfortunately." I whisper back.

A few feet from the car, Minghao stops and faces me. I copy his movements, wondering why the sudden movement.

"Do you still have it?" He asks. "The painting I gave you for your birthday?"

I nod, "I have it stored away." I tell him.

"Hang it up." Minghao instructs me.

"Why?" I ask, scrunching my eyebrows together.

"I'm leaving this world for good." Minghao explains, "And I want you to proudly show off the painting to everyone."

"But it'll make me miss you." I counter with a frown.

Minghao smiles, "Missing me is okay cause it means you'll remember me."

My face settles into sadness when I realize what he's saying.

"I know I won't remember you when I cross over so you have to remember me? Alright?" He asks, cupping my cheek and strokes his thumb against my skin.

I nod, "I'll hang it up." I tell him though I'm unsure of where I would hang it. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He says then leans down and places a light kiss to my lips. Even though it's light, it's heavy with emotions. When he pulls away, my eyes shed a few tears while his stay dry. Though he was never a big crier.

"I'll tell the Gods to hurry up with the others so you don't wait too long." Minghao tells me before walking towards the car where Shin has opened the door for him.

I watch in silence as Minghao gives me a last wave before sliding into the car. Once the door is shut, the car begins to drive away.

I sniffle and hold back a flood of tears as the car disappears into the fog. But even through my attempts, a couple tears manage to escape and make trails down my cheeks much like the ones our feet made in the paint. Long after the car has disappeared, I pull back my heavy shoulders and turn back towards the hotel to wait for the others.

In the garden, a single chrysanthemum has withered away and only two glasses and two champagne bottles remain on the table. The drawing having disappeared along with Minghao.

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the next guest.

"Now it's your turn." Minghao states with a smile while I lock my hands together behind his neck.

"Finally, I've waited long enough." I joke.

"Well, your waiting is over." He says before giving me a kiss.

"Let's go before Shin comes hunting for me." I mumble against his lips.

Minghao chuckles but pulls away. As we leave the garden, Minghao confidently grabs my hand and swings it back and forth.

We walk hand in hand to the lobby where Yong, Mun Hee, Soon Bok, and Jiwoo stand solemnly.

"So this is it?" Mun Hee asks with tears in his eyes. "This is the day you leave us?"

I wrap him up in a hug, only a tiny bit annoyed that he's being so sappy. "Maybe I'll get punished again and be back here by the end of the year." I try to joke but Mun Hee abruptly pushes back from me.

"Don't you dare say that. You better not return here." He says angrily through his tears.

I chuckle, "I won't come back. I promise." Then I remember the painting of Minghao's that he admired. "Mun Hee, that painting in my office?"

He nods.

"It's yours now. Take it and hang it up wherever you like." I tell him and surprise widens his eyes.

"Seriously?" He asks me before looking behind me at Minghao, "Seriously?"

Minghao smiles, "It's hers to give away."

Mun Hee wraps me in a hug, "Thank you!"

"You're welcome." I tell him.

Turning to Soon Bok, I thank her for her service and her amazing work. Something I never did and should've done more.

Next onto Jiwoo. I also thank him for his and his entire family's service then I unclip the bracelet that has held him to this place.

"When you leave today, you won't be able to find this place again." I inform him, "I hope that you'll be able to go and live your life happily."

Jiwoo nods, "Thank you for letting me work with you. I won't ever forget you."

I smile sadly, "You will. But thank you."

Finally I reach Yong who is sniffling and trying so very hard not cry.

"You'd think after all these years of waiting that I'd be prepared for this day." She says through sniffles.

"Thank you, Yong." I rests my hands on her shoulders, "For everything. Thank you."

With lips pursed together, she leans forward and wraps me in an unexpected hug. But I soon wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

We pull apart after a couple seconds and I wipe the few tears that have escaped from her eyes.

"Keep this hotel running beautifully." I tell her before Minghao grabs my hand again.

With final waves of goodbye, Minghao and I walk out to the foggy forest that will take us to our resting place.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands next to an idling car, a somber look on his face.

"(y/n)." He says when we reach him, "It has been an honor working with you. I wish you both a peaceful rest." Shin bows his head and I pat his arm.

"The honor was mine." I tell him with a smile. Now the tears start to line my eyes as the realization fully sets in.

I'm free. I served my years of punishment and now I'm free to let my soul rest.

I turn back towards the hotel and look up to the top where the rooftop patio is outlined with bright string lights. Then to the mid floors where random room lights are turned on, some guests staying in while others opted to experience the hotel's many services. Then to grand base where guests would be milling around, waiting their turns to leave this world.

"(y/n)?" Minghao softly asks pulling my attention to where he sits just inside the car, "Are you ready?"

I take one last quick look at the hotel before turning away from it. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

I lower myself into the car and Shin securely closes the door after I am completely inside. As the car begins to drive forward, Minghao securely grabs my hand and I let his warmth guide me towards our final destination.

In the garden, the final chrysanthemum withers and dies so that no more stand at the base of the bare tree.

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