#and I don’t think he would’ve left Kevin alone without making him promise not to kill himself

[ninyard]

hey do we think that just after Kevin’s hand was destroyed, and Jean and Kevin were finally alone, and Kevin asked him to keep Riko away - do we think that Jean would’ve left him alone without making him return his promise? Do you think Jean took one look at Kevin’s disfigured and mangled prized possession and said this is going to be the thing that kills him and I can’t let that happen? Do you think that there was a little while where Jean couldn’t find Kevin afterwards, and wondered where he had taken himself to do it anyway? Until he realised Kevin’s car was missing, or some other thing that told him: he wasn’t dead but gone, and maybe that’s worse, because Jean knows he can’t come back, he won’t come back. He’s alive, and he promised to stay alive, but he promised to stay alive. He did not promise to stay.

[troubatrain]

runaway (part two) - n. patrick

a/n: shoutout to tumblr being down and not having work because i somehow cranked out both of these parts in one day. i’ve settled on this series being a small series of smut that sort of just follows a storyline and i’m really excited about it. anyways i’m tagging @hookingminor​ for reading this while i wrote it and gassing me up and @princessphilly​ & @texanstarslove​ because it’s whore hours here

warnings - smut this is all literally smut

part one - part three

It was St. Patrick’s day in Boston, and Nolan was hoping that a second round of luck was on its way. Nolan hadn’t seen much of you since you left to go home a few days after that night. You were living in his head rent fucking free, and it was unfair. It was unfair that he got to see every thirst trap you posted on Instagram, but he’d be damned if he thought about liking it. It was unfair that you were definitely Kevin’s favorite sibling and he talked about you all time. It was unfair he had to watch Kevin make out with some chick while he couldn’t do anything about you across the bar. And it was beyond cruel that you were shaking your ass with your roommates in a too big Celtics jersey and Nolan couldn’t do anything to ward off the dudes who had their eyes on you. His grip on his beer tightened, knuckles white and anger coursing through his veins while you rejected the like fifth guy that night.

“Hey dude, keep an eye on her okay?” Kevin asks, snapping Nolan out of his thoughts while he got ready to head out with his friend in tow. The Flyers had played a hard fought afternoon game against the Bruins, and with a day off promised the next day Nolan was sure it was going to be a late night, “I’m serious Patty, she’s two tequila shots with TK away from a mess.”

“I think I can handle your sister,” Nolan scoffs, eager to get Kevin the fuck out of that bar so he could talk to you for more than five minutes. He watched Kevin leave, turning his attention to you and smiling when he saw you laughing with your friends.

“Boston in Boston? It’s like seeing you in your natural habitat,” Nolan jokes, a hand landing on your lower back. You laugh, throwing your head and wrapping your arms around Nolan’s waist. You looked around, your brother was nowhere to be seen and you thought the coast was clear, “He’s gone.”

“Do I want to know?” You ask, scrunching up your nose knowing damn well why your brother left early. Nolan shook his head, sparing you the details and smirking at you, “And what about you Patty? Chasing a girl out of here too?”

“Unless it’s you,” Nolan husks in your ear, his deep voice sent shivers down your spine, a calloused finger slipping over the basketball jersey you stole from one of your brothers, “We had so much fun last time.”

You did have fun. You were sad and Nolan was making you feel infinitely better. Now some time has passed, the wounds on your heart healing and single life was good. Nolan’s eyes were staring into yours, holding your gaze while you decided what to do. On one hand, one time was one thing but twice was another. How long could you fuck around with Nolan before Kevin caught on? Probably a while given your brother wasn’t always the brightest, but he’d figure it out eventually.

“Take me home Nolan,” You breathe, sliding out of your phone and ordering the quickest Uber you could to your place. Nolan was grinning, hands wrapped around your waist when you were finally free from the eyes of his teammates.

Your apartment was the complete opposite of Kevin’s. Nolan’s eyes scanned over the art prints and pictures of your family that decorated the walls, his eyes scanning the titles that lined up against your record player. Maybe you had more in common than Nolan thought. He’d overthink it later, because your lips were on his neck and your fingers were toying with his zipper and if he didn’t find a release soon he’d lose it. You were the best he’s had, Nolan spent countless nights alone using that night to get himself off. You got him off. You were irresistible, and it was going to get Nolan in trouble.

Your fingers unhooked Nolan’s jeans, pulling the zipper and going down with it. Nolan groans, tilting your chin up to look at him, his finger ran across your lip. You took it into your mouth, Nolan’s eyes practically rolling to the back of his head, “You’re trouble.”

“Haven’t you heard, I’ve never done anything wrong in my life?” You muse, pulling Nolan’s boxers down, springing his cock free. Nolan had heard all about it, Kevin’s perfect baby sister, who was smarter than anyone he knew and had a heart of gold. You were perfect but it was more about how good your mouth looked when you took his cock into your mouth and less about what your brother thought. Your fingers were tracing his thigh tattoos, your mouth popping off his dick and your attention on those, “I like these.”

“Me too, but if you could maybe,” Nolan whines, an actual plea to get your mouth back where he needed it most. His hands were in your hair, and if he didn’t think you’d smack the shit out of him he would’ve moved your head himself.

“Like this?” You press a kiss to the tip of his dick, letting your mouth hover just above it. You bat your eyelashes, watching the way Nolan’s face was getting redder the more you egged him now. You lick the underside of his cock, tracing a vein as slowly as you could, “Or like this?”

“If you don’t start being a good girl I’m not going to let you cum,” Nolan growls, his voice deep and raspy, a chill running up your spine. You rub your thighs together, Nolan’s voice was fucking delicious. You take him into your mouth, bobbing your head while Nolan hit the back of your throat, “Fuck, can I-”

You nod, feeling Nolan’s dick twitch in your mouth and his cum hit the back of your throat, he let out a groan. You swallow as much as you could, finally take your mouth off Nolan’s cock and let the rest spill down your chin. Nolan slides his thumb across your jaw, picking up his cum and pushing it into your mouth, groaning when you happily obliged, “Do I get to cum now?”

Nolan chuckles, lacing his fingers with yours and letting you drag him into your bedroom. You tossed the jersey, sliding off your jeans and leaving yourself in the matching black lace set you were grateful you chose to wear, “Look at you.”

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

“All of this for me?”

“I’m going to ruin you.”

Nolan’s words were pressed against your skin while he took his time with you, running his hands all over your body. His hands grip your thighs, turning you around, “Get on your knees for me.”

You nod, biting your lip when you could feel Nolan’s breath fanning your pussy, his finger slips under your panties, sliding them down pressing kisses to your ass, “Nolan enough teasing.”

You were whining, whimpering when Nolan’s hand came in contact with your ass, his tongue was flat against your pussy, teasing even more, “I said good girl.”

A finger slid inside you, and you let out a moan that was embarrassingly loud, Nolan’s name slipping from your lips while you begged for more. You needed to get off, so worked up past the point of no return. Nolan slid in a second finger, curling his fingers inside you and pressing a kiss dangerously close to your asshole, “You can Nols.”

You were his dream girl, that’s it, you were Nolan Patrick’s dream girl and he couldn’t have you. He groans against your skin, his tongue rimming your hole and pushing his fingers inside your pussy faster. You were soaked, clenching around Nolan’s fingers and letting out a scream. You fish out a condom from your nightstand, tossing it to Nolan and muttering something under your breath, “What was that Boston?”

“Want you inside me,” You breathe you, shaking your ass in front of Nolan because you wanted him so badly. Nolan’s eyes went darker, rolling on the condom and slipping inside of you. He gave just a second to adjust before his hands were on your hips and he was pushing you into your mattress, “Fuck, I missed your cock.”

“Yeah?” Nolan muses, his pace steady while you fall apart underneath him, “I’m only the person who makes you feel like this huh?”

“Yes, fuck, Nolan I’m going to cum again,” You pussy tightened around Nolan’s cock, pulling his second high out of him and into the condom.

You finally fell onto the bed, fucked into oblivion. The grip you had on your sheets was released, Nolan admiring you below him. Slow breaths escaped your lips, your eyes closing and opening from how tired you were, “We’re never going to be able to stop doing this are we?”

“I think we’re going to have to do this a few more times,” You agree, poking one eye open while Nolan tossed you a t-shirt from your dresser, “I’ll be back in Philly soon.”

“Really?” Nolan smiles, kissing your head while he got himself dressed. He didn’t want to leave, another time where he wanted to hold you and press his lips against all the spots he marked on you, but getting caught wasn’t an option.

“I have a Grad School interview at UPenn,” You muse, sliding on the t-shirt and tucking yourself into bed, “It’s not a big deal-”

“Sounds like a pretty big deal,” Nolan disagrees, hoping he could steal you for a night away from your brother. He took one more look at you, biting his lip and thinking about just saying fuck it and staying but he knew he just couldn’t, “See you then Boston.”

Nolan heard one protest about how you hated that nickname, laughing to himself and throwing on the hoodie he thought was his. It was dark, and before Nolan could catch his mistake he was sporting a Boston College hoodie while he left your place - hoping there wasn’t a chance he’d run into Kevin. He made it to his hotel room without seeing anyone, a throat clearing when he finally got into his room. Travis’s voice echoed through the room.

“Is that Kevin’s? What is he dressing you now?”

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

En Tennyson Anything

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.5k words

Summary: Ever wonder how Ben Tennyson’s kid got it’s name?

A/N: Did anyone ask for it? No. Should this have remained in my head? Yes. Should I have not wasted my time when I’m supposed to be studying for my mock chemistry Final? Probably. Did I do it anyway? Absolutely. Is anyone’s opinion going to change my mind? Absolutely NOT.

“No! Forget about it! I refuse to name our child En Anything!” You said firmly, walking away from your husband to the living room. Just like you knew he would but wished he wouldn’t, he followed you, all while whining pitifully.

“Babe, please! Ren or Jen Tennyson? How adorable is that?”

“Look, you already named our dog Sphen Tennyson, that’s all you get!”

“Are you comparing our child to a dog right now?”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, pointing to the TV remote. It was second nature for him to grab the remote for you and you proceeded to ignore him in favour of your favourite series.

“Babe, come on, Kevin got to name his son Devlin!”

“That’s only cuz Gwen bet that it was going to be a girl! I on the other hand am refusing to name our child, boy or girl, En Tennyson!”

“It’s a family tradition babe!”

“No way! That name brings enough trouble as it is!”

“And yet you took it!”

“Because if I hadn’t your mother would’ve killed me. But I asked her and she said it was totally my decision to name our child whatever. And I choose anything other than En Anything.”

He threw himself on the couch with a huff, leaning against your belly and placing a hand on it, “Your mom is mean.”

You flicked his ear, “Don’t say that to our child!”

He chuckled, pressing a few kisses to your bump, “You want to be named Ren or Jen, right? Kick if you agree.”

You waited a couple of seconds in silence and when you felt nothing you couldn’t help but laugh at the betrayed look on Ben’s face. Usually whenever Ben talked to the baby, it was all too happy to kick around in response.

But it seemed like even the baby hated the name.

“Traitor.”

***

“I really wish I didn’t have to go.” Ben murmured, pulling you into his arms. You sighed, relishing in his warmth and leaning against his frame. A hand came to cradle your head as he tilted your face towards his and captured your lips in a kiss.

“It’s okay, the universe needs you.”

“Yeah, but you need me more than them.” He mumbled, kissing you again and you chuckled, “I’m sure I can survive a few days.”

“But you’re near your due date.”

You knew he was anxious to leave you alone so close to your due date. The grip he had on your hands was an indication to just how hard this was for him. He was worried about leaving the two of you home alone.

“It’s going to be okay, love. Besides, it’s not like I’m alone, I have your parents and Grandpa Max to look after me.”

“And my brother promised to check in on her a couple of times too.” Gwen spoke up from behind you and you nodded.

“Call me when you’re done.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck. He peppered kisses along your shoulder as a goodbye.

“Call me if anything happens, okay?” He asked and you nodded, smiling when he bent down to say goodbye to your child.

“Don’t trouble your mom too much, okay? And don’t be born until I get back. Okay?” He asked and just like you knew it would, the baby kicked hearing Ben’s voice and the two of you laughed.

“We’ll be just fine.” You reassured, kissing him one final time before sending him off with a smile, “Be safe, I love you.”

***

It wasn’t long after Ben left when it started to snow heavily. The roads were quickly covered with sleet and snow decorated the window. So, you curled up with a warm hot chocolate, bundled up in Ben’s jacket by the window and had the radio playing.

Retro, but it was just what you needed to stop worrying about Ben.

You were nearly done with your cup when you heard the doorbell ring and wondered if you absolutely had to get up. Your feet were already kind of sore and you didn’t feel like moving. The doorbell rang again and you groaned, shuffling off the bed and grumbled all the way to the doorway.

When you opened it, Gwen’s brother was standing there with a small smile and a box of donuts.

“Hey, I got you those donuts you like.”

You have him a smile, inviting him inside, “Thank you, Ken. You really didn’t have to.”

“I promised Gwen and Ben that I would look after you.”

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck here,” You said, looking out the window and noticing how the police where shutting them down for everyone’s safety, “The roads are closed.”

He looked at the scene over your shoulder and released a breath, “I’m kind of relieved. I just parallel parked the car between 2 giant vans and I really didn’t want to have to bring it out of there.”

You giggled, “Lucky you then.”

The two of you didn’t waste any time, opening the box of donuts and digging in.

“So, any names for the newest Tennyson?” Ken asked, finishing his Jelly-filled one as you bit into the one with chocolate sprinkles.

“Well, Ben wants to name it either Ren or Jen but I hate the idea.”

Ken laughed, “What about you?”

“Well, I wanted to name it Max if he was boy,” You started, a hand unconsciously coming to rub your belly when you felt your baby move slightly. Almost as if he knew you were talking about it, “But Grandpa Max thinks that we shouldn’t.”

“Why not? I mean, I’d be pretty honoured if someone wanted to name their child after me.”

“Right? But Max thinks that his name would bring about bad luck. As if the last name isn’t bad luck enough.” You sighed and grabbed the last donut just as Ken was reaching for it. He raised a judgmental brow and you scoffed.

“I’m pregnant, what’s your excuse?”

***

Ken stayed the rest of the night, sleeping in one of the guest rooms and when the two of you woke up, you realized that it had snowed the whole night. The roads were covered in snow that was feet deep and you watched from the top of Tennyson Tower as a team of pyronites tried to clear them away.

It seemed in vain however, because it looked like the drainage system was frozen over and it would be difficult to get all the snow out without causing a flood.

You found yourself missing your husband more than you expected. With the snow and the cold, you wanted someone to cuddle up to. Someone to hold.

The baby had definitely noticed Ben’s absence. You couldn’t really tell how but something in your soul told you that it missed its father. Just as you did.

But the baby didn’t know that Ben was off world for a mission and light years away from the two of you. The baby had no idea that kicking and being fussy wouldn’t get him here faster even though it showed you just how uncomfortable it was.

Maybe that’s why it decided to come out and check for itself.

You weren’t sure what you felt at first. It was just a little discomfort for you but the spell quickly passed without much notice.

The second contraction made sure to let you know that it was there.

You held onto Ken’s arm in surprise and he took his eyes off the screen to look at you. You were staring blankly at the screen and he shifted in his seat to grab your hand.

“Everything okay?”

“I think I just had a contraction.” You whispered, feeling slightly panicked. A lot of emotions were rushing through your head; how you didn’t want to do this without Ben, how you didn’t want to do this, how you couldn’t do this with the roads blocked, and wondering whether this was actually labour.

“What? Oh, shit, okay, just relax. Has your water broken?” Ken was surprisingly calm even though you just told him you might be having your baby. He merely patted your hand reassuringly and grabbed his phone.

“I—I don’t think so.”

“Okay then we got some time, just relax.”

You knew all this. You went to the classes. You read the books. But as soon as you felt the first contraction, your mind went blank. All you did was nod as Ken dialled in your mother-in-law’s number and told her what was going on.

“How are we gonna get to the hospital?” You whispered, feeling panic rise and Ken brought you in for a comforting hug, “Don’t worry about it, we got some time. I’ll call Grandpa Max and ask him if he can dispatch a couple of hover cars or at least get some Heatblast’s to clear the road. Everything will be just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, worst comes to worst, we’ll have to get a doctor up here. It’ll be okay. Just watch some TV for now.”

“How do you know so much about this? You seem oddly calm.”

Ken blushed, “I read up on it a lot when Gwen was pregnant to make sure that if I was with her when it happened then I wouldn’t be floundering.”

You gave him a smile, “That’s sweet.”

***

“Okay, just breathe. Breathe. You’re doing great!” Ken whispered, letting you grip his hands as he talked you through another contraction. After he called up Grandpa Max, it didn’t take long before they managed to bring you to the hospital. Your water broke soon after that and the contractions got more painful.

“Where’s Ben!” You cried out, clenching your teeth. Ken began wiping your tears and sweat away.

“We haven’t been able to reach him yet, he’s still in battle. He’ll get the message soon enough and come home, (Y/N), don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t have this baby without him, Ken. I can’t. Can you tell the doctors to keep it in?” You sobbed and he chuckled lightly, pecking your temple, “We can’t keep it in, honey, but Aunt Sandra and Uncle Carl are on their way. So is Grandpa Max.”

“Why is this taking so long!!” You whimpered. Ken was carefully wiping away all your tears, “I thought the miracle of birth was supposed to be beautiful! Why is it so slow and so painful!”

He laughed and you sent him a glare but he knew it was harmless, “Well that’s the human race for you.”

“What a bunch of bastards.”

***

“I’m here! I’m here!” Ben shouted, bolting through the hallways, running into multiple people until he finally made it outside your delivery room. He was running too fast and ended up crashing into his father’s arms, panting heavily.

“Can I go in?” He asked, unsure if he was allowed and hesitated even when his parents nodded. His son or daughter was being born. Now. The love of his life was giving birth in the other room. All of it felt too real. Too domestic. Too normal.

He’d been through so much till now, never getting anything in return. He’d saved planets and risked his life over and over again, always coming near death and he never asked for anything in return.

Now it finally felt like he was getting something back.

His heart honestly couldn’t handle it.

So, he hesitated, he was scared he’d get robbed of something again. That he’d once again have to give up something in his life.

Kevin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly and he nodded before giving him a slight nudge towards the door. When Ben stepped in, he immediately rushed to your side, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“I’m here. I’m here. I love you. I’m here.” You spared him a smile and he brought a hand up to wipe away some tears. You were breathing hard, a hand wrapped around his arm and the other was still clasped between both of Ken’s.

It was only then Ben noticed that his cousin was also in the room.

“Hey, man.”

“Sup.”

“WHY DON’T I LAY DOWN SOME TEA AND CRACKERS SO YOU CAN CATCH UP WHILE I TRY AND GIVE BIRTH!”

Even the doctor couldn’t help but laugh as your nails dug into their skin and you cried out, back hitting the bed in relief as your baby was born. An innocent cry filled the room and you couldn’t help the tears of joy that began streaming down your cheeks.

That was your baby.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Tennyson, it’s a boy.”

Ben let out a teary laugh, kissing you briefly and squeezing your hand reassuringly as you leaned against him, exhausted. He was finally here; his baby boy was finally here.

The doctors cleaned him up a little before handing the baby to you, initiating skin-to-skin. You felt fresh tears looking at his precious face. That was your baby.

Ben’s hand came to support your son, his other arm wrapping around your figure as he brought you into a hug. A family hug.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

“Do we have a name yet?” Gwen asked from beside you, looking over the newest addition to the family. Your son was comfortable, even though people kept passing him around like a hot potato. It’s what happens when there are so many people in your family.

“No, not yet.” Ben told and you were almost impressed. A part of you was completely expecting him to hijack the name and outright tell everyone that you were naming your son Ren Tennyson.

“Actually,” You spoke up, bringing everyone’s attention to you just as Sandra handed her grandson back to you. You fondly looked at your baby boy before looking up at your husband with a shy smile, “I was thinking Kenny.”

A bright smile grew on his face, “Really? I thought you said you didn’t want an En Tennyson.”

“I didn’t, but I want our baby to be named after someone special,” You spoke, turning your head to meet the gaze of Ken, who had been standing behind everyone for the time being. You sent him a meaningful look, “I couldn’t have done it without you today. Thank you, for everything.”

He blushed, “I didn’t really.”

You didn’t bother arguing with him, knowing it was just his humility that held him back from accepting your gratitude. Instead, you turned back to the baby in your arms, leaning your head against Ben’s shoulder, “Your name is Kenny Tennyson, baby.”

The room erupted into cheers and you grinned, looking up to see your family around you.

Perhaps a family name wasn’t a bad idea.

It meant your child would be named after the people you love.

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee​

[bbangsoonie]

one more minute

member: sangyeon genre: angst word count: 2,487 synopsis: survival of the fittest is the reigning rule of nature. so when a zombie apocalypse breaks out, you don’t have much hope but sangyeon is set on keeping you safe. warning(s): death

When the apocalypse first broke out, you lost all hope and will. With your physical condition, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. And quite frankly, you didn’t want to.

Your chances of survival were low. Your asthma and lack of athleticism didn’t give you a good hand. And on top of that, you weren’t sure if you wanted to survive if it meant being unable to live.

What were you fighting so hard for? To merely stay alive in the midst of chaos?

But Sangyeon refused to let you give up. He claimed responsibility for your life and pushed you to fight. You two banded together with a group of other survivors. And for a while, you created a system that worked. The thirteen of you managed well by relying on each other.

Until you lost Hyunjoon.

Then the group was shaken to the core. Fear kept you all locked up in an abandoned warehouse. And inevitably, food and supplies began to run low. Including necessary medical supplies.

You always felt bad about having to risk everyone’s lives to raid hospitals. You knew that your existence was more of a burden than of help. You couldn’t contribute much but required a lot of things. Honestly, you were tired of it as well. But you were too ashamed to tell that to Sangyeon, who had given his very best into keeping you alive.

After another asthma attack, you were laying on a makeshift bed with your hand tightly wrapped around the last inhaler. And as always, Sangyeon remained by your side.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun, Juyeon, and Kevin had returned empty handed. Their search for food had been futile and only ended up with Kevin sustaining an injury. You watched as Jacob tended to his wounds and Changmin rationed the remaining cans of food.

“This world has gone to hell,” your breath rasped in your throat.

“Hey, it’s not completely unbearable. We still have each other,” Sangyeon forced a smile.

You and Sangyeon had grown up as childhood friends. Of course, you were no longer just friends anymore. Yet, you also weren’t anything more. You couldn’t afford the luxury of dating in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. You were too busy meeting basic needs to pursue a romantic relationship.

The love between you two remained unspoken but you both knew each other’s feelings. It was why you continued to live in such a shitty world. Sangyeon was quite literally the reason you were alive. Without him, you would have died long ago.

But you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. At least, not without obtaining more inhalers.

“How are you holding up, Y/n?” Haknyeon asked.

You weakly offered a thumbs up in response. He understood the true meaning behind your answer.

Chanhee was discussing logistics with Younghoon, who was quietly nodding his head as he listened. Seeing Sunwoo and Eric having a serious conversation brought you a sense of pity. Hyunjoon’s death had stripped them of the last sliver of joy that they had left.

Sangyeon, who had been observing your features, brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. At his touch, your attention returned to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you more medicine,” he reassured.

“I want to go alone this time,” you hesitantly stated.

His expression immediately hardened as he quickly rejected your idea. Not wanting to hear more, he stood up to leave but you caught a hold of his wrist.

“I can’t keep placing you guys in danger for me. It’s time I pull my own weight,” you insisted.

“Then I’ll go with you,” he said.

You knew he wouldn’t back down. So with a sigh, you meekly nodded.

When Sangyeon brought up the proposal to the group, Jacob instantly shook his head. He asserted that it was way too risky. The group had always traveled outside in trios, minimum.

But you held your ground, even after Jaehyun offered to go as well. Unable to win over your stubbornness, the group reluctantly agreed to let you and Sangyeon go by yourselves.

When the morning came, you awoke to Chanhee packing you a backpack full of emergency tools. He had tried to stay aloof during his time with the group but you could tell that he had grown fond of everyone. He didn’t show it but Hyunjoon’s death had impacted him a lot.

“You have to return. No matter what. You must come back unharmed,” he demanded as he handed you the bag.

You surprised him with a hug. It took him a second to register what was going on before he slowly patted your back.

“Thanks for everything, Chanhee,” you smiled.

“Don’t say that. It sounds like a good-bye,” he frowned. “You can thank me later.”

Chuckling, you nodded as you slung the bag around your shoulders. You said your farewells to the rest of the members, promising to come back by the evening. Eric, as always, teared up watching people walk past the doors of safety.

You and Sangyeon stepped into the pending hands of doom, unaware that it would be the last time walking down these flight of stairs for one of you.

Sangyeon’s hand tightly held yours as you two navigated your way to the hospital. Luckily, the trip there was rather uneventful. The streets of Seoul were eerily quiet. You could barely remember what the booming city used to look like.

Once you got to the hospital, you snuck past roaming zombies in the hallways to quietly reach the supply room. Carefully closing and locking the door behind you, you let out a sigh of relief.

You began to grab bottles of whatever medicine there was and stuffed them into your backpack while Sangyeon searched for inhalers. Unfortunately, there were only a couple left in stock. A wave of disappointment and stress washed over him.

Peeking at his troubled expression, you tried to show him the bright side. You now had a bunch of disinfectants and pain killers.

At that moment, a crash was heard outside. You clung onto Sangyeon’s shirt and your eyes widened in shock. He held a finger up to his lips, signaling for you to stay silent as he tried to hear what was going on beyond the door.

“Bomin!” a female voice shrieked before another crash was heard.

Then you heard it. The crowd of growling zombies rushing towards whoever was outside. Your heart pounded fiercely against your chest as they struggled to fight off the monsters. And then broke when human voices were no longer heard.

When you and Sangyeon didn’t arrive by nightfall, Sunwoo couldn’t help but assume the worst.

“You don’t think something went wrong, do you?” he nervously bit his lip in concern.

“No. There must have been a slight delay. They’ll be back tomorrow,” Younghoon gulped. His words were more to convince himself rather than Sunwoo.

“Let’s trust them and wait,” Juyeon said, comforting Eric.

Meanwhile, you were stuck inside the supply room. Leaving was no longer a feasible option with the hoard of zombies outside the door. So you spent the night there, sleeping next to Sangyeon to stay warm.

When you woke up, you knew that you couldn’t hide forever. If you didn’t die outside, you would die of starvation inside.

After coming up with a strategy, you and Sangyeon prepared to escape. You waited until most of the groaning sounds faded further away to slowly open the door and check your surroundings. To your relief, there were only a few of the creatures nearby.

Sangyeon’s heart sank at the sight of blood on the floor. It hadn’t been there the day before.

Quietly, the two of you crept towards the emergency staircase. As you went down a few floors, you relaxed, thinking that you were now safe.

It turned out that it was too early to let your guard down.

Right before you got to the basement parking lot, you heard a familiar noise that sent chills down your spine. You didn’t have time to warn Sangyeon before a zombie jumped on him. He fought with all his strength but the surprise attack had caught him off guard. He was struggling to stop it from tearing him apart.

Without thinking, you flung forward to shove it off of him. The action prompted the zombie to focus on you instead. You yelped as you were thrown to the ground and panicked as you tried to avoid its aggressive mouth.

In unlucky timing, you felt a sharp pain in your lungs.

“Oh no,” you thought. You couldn’t be having another asthma attack. Not now. Not when you were already on the brink of death.

That brief moment of weakness was enough for the zombie to gain an advantage. You screamed in pain when you felt another sharp pain. This time, it was on your arm.

Sangyeon barely managed to kill the zombie by bashing its head into the wall. Your hands shook as you desperately rummaged through your bag to find an inhaler. By the time you sprayed the drug, Sangyeon rushed to your side.

In a hurry, you tugged your sleeves to cover the bite mark. He helped you sit up as he made sure you were okay.

“Y/n, are you crazy? What were you thinking?” he yelled.

“You’re safe. That’s all that matters,” you weakly smiled. You tried your best to act fine but your mind was occupied with the pain from your arm.

You leaned on him as you entered the empty parking lot. Finding refuge in an unlocked car, Sangyeon urged you to rest for a few hours before making your way back home.

Home. What a funny word.

In the span of a year, a rundown warehouse had turned into your home. And before you knew it, a group of strangers had become your new family.

Your head was already starting to blur. Flashes of memories flooded your thoughts.

Sangyeon, your best friend. Your could’ve-been, should’ve-been, would’ve-been lover. You still vividly remembered the day he pounded on your door after the mayhem first broke out. Since then, he had been your survival partner. Even throughout all the turmoil, he always brought you a small gift from every outing. In the spring, it was a flower. In the fall, it was a cookie he managed to find.

Jacob, the angel. He was a breath of fresh air in a society where people’s hearts had turned stone cold. He had been the one to gather the survivors together.

Younghoon, the quiet one who took care of people behind the scenes. Like Chanhee, he seemed distant at first. But he was just shy and clumsy at expressing himself.

Jaehyun, the fighter. He was the first to volunteer for any task. He always burdened himself with the responsibility of keeping everyone out of harm’s way.

Juyeon, the one everyone relied on emotionally. He could sense when you were down and brought it upon himself to cheer you up.

Kevin, the selfless one. He prioritized others’ needs before his own. He had trained extra hard to become one of the strongest members.

Chanhee, the secretly soft-hearted one. Your last memory of him handing you the backpack brought a small smile to your lips.

Changmin, the level-headed one who turned into an innocent child when hanging out with the younger members.

Haknyeon, the goofy one who had matured way too early. Despite his young age, he was skilled and dependable.

Sunwoo, the one whose heart was too pure for this world. You hated to see the light in his eyes slowly fade throughout the months.

Eric, the moodmaker who received so much love from everyone. He truly cared for each and every member and never lost touch with his humanity.

And lastly, Hyunjoon. The one who had departed from the world too soon. He had so many unfulfilled dreams and you missed his bright smile.

By the time you regained consciousness, Sangyeon had fallen asleep next to you. You shakily took a breath as you examined the wound on your arm. You knew you didn’t have much time left.

You glanced over at his sleeping face. He seemed at peace. Wanting this to be your last memory, you spent some time watching his chest slowly rise and fall in rhythm. You endured the growing pain as you prayed for just one more minute with him. Just one more second.

Eventually, it became too hard to hold back the groans that fought to escape your throat. You dug into your bag to find the gun meant to be used as a last option. Your grip on the weapon tightened as you trudged away from the car.

Before you got too far, however, Sangyeon stirred from the sounds. Alarmed by your sudden disappearance, he quickly exited the vehicle to see you with a firearm.

“Y/n,” his voice held so much fear. You didn’t have the confidence to face him.

“It’s too late,” you choked.

It was only then that he finally noticed the blood dripping from your arm. He felt his world crumble down as you started to convulse.

“It’s okay,” he said as he approached you. “I’ll still take care of you. I’ll make sure that no one hurts you and that you won’t hurt anyone either.”

“I don’t want to become one of them. You know I’d rather die than become something that’s stuck between life and death. Something that threatens your life,” you cried.

“But I can’t let you die!” he yelled.

“It’s time to let me go, Sangyeon,” you begged as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Y/n, look at me. Please,” he pleaded.

You didn’t want him to see you like this. But you didn’t have a choice when he tugged at your sleeve to make you turn around. Your skin was already beginning to discolor and he knew what was coming.

Full of desperation, he pulled you in for a hug. One arm clung onto your torso as the other embraced your head. He sobbed into your neck, making you weep as well.

“I lived a lot longer than I should have,” you assured.

“24 years is not long at all,” his voice cracked.

Wanting to spare him from having to shoot you himself, you slowly detached yourself from him. You had to do it yourself soon.

“Take the bag and go back to the others,” you sadly smiled.

“I can’t leave without you,” he cried. But he knew he had to.

You told him to close his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see your end. With your vision clouding more and more, you stumbled away from him and hid behind a van. You fell to the ground and your hands trembled as they brought the gun to your head.

“I love you, Lee Sangyeon,” you whispered before pulling the trigger.

a/n: heavily inspired by the character park yoori from sweet home and golden child’s “burn it” music video

[hotchley]

pallbearer

Not completely sure what this is, but it was sparked by the posts about Kevin being a pallbearer at Haley’s funeral. Saw it in my drafts and decided to finish it because yeah, why not?

It’s Eid somewhere (India and Australia for sure) so take this as a little gift from me to all of you because you’re lovely but I suck at writing fluff, so it’s pretty much just angst and a bit of Reid being a good friend to Hotch because I live in the nice world where they have a good relationship :)

As always, absolutely no proofreading, and it low-key sucks, but nothing else is working so...

Trigger Warnings: references to death, funerals, grief, just general sad things 

read on ao3!

After they get back from the case that took them from the funeral, Reid, who is still using a cane, leaves without telling anyone.

Derek panics because he’s meant to be taking Reid back to his apartment- there’s a lift that functions and it means Reid isn’t being stupid- then Garcia tracks his phone and realises he’s going to see Hotch. They can’t interrupt that, so they don’t.

Why is Reid going there? All alone?

To apologise.

He goes there himself, takes the lift up because he knows his limits and rings the doorbell. Hotch doesn’t answer and he panics, so he rings it again.

When Hotch does open the door, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting any sort of company- least of all his colleagues/family. He still lets Reid in, and he asks him if he’d like anything to eat or drink. Reid declines, because Hotch shouldn’t have to be running around after him. Not now.

They’re sat in silence for a few minutes- they both try and justify it by saying Jack is asleep- but then Reid speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Hotch seems exhausted by all the apologies- after all, people are only giving them because there’s nothing else they can say- but Reid doesn’t say things lightly. It always means something. And he knows how Reid’s intelligence is always used against him. The team asked him to recite the phone call because they wanted the information, but Spencer would always associate it with a way in which he failed.

So although he hates the way everyone is apologising to him, he won’t tell Spencer to not. Spencer needs to say the words so he feels like the forgiveness Hotch has already given him- the forgiveness he received the moment Hotch saw him come into the office where Jack had been hiding- is deserved. And Hotch needs to hear the words from somebody that is saying them despite knowing everything about the situation.

It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts enough to speak, and even then, the words do not feel adequate.

“You did everything you could Spencer,” is his soft response.

“Not about Haley’s death. Of course I’m sorry, but what I meant was- I’m sorry I couldn’t carry the coffin. You know I would’ve if I could’ve.”

Hotch meets his eyes, and sees his own tears reflected in Spencer’s face. There’s a certain innocence to Spencer’s expression. One that Hotch thought his own failures would have permanently taken away. He should have known better. Spencer is nothing if not resilient. But then he thinks of the situations that forced him to become like that, and he wants to scream into the void because of how unfair the world can be.

He doesn’t though. That would only make the situation worse.

Instead, he sighs. “I know Spencer. I know. But I- even if you could, I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

Spencer frowns. “Why not? Will, Derek and Anderson were all pallbearers, and I probably knew Haley about as well as them. It would’ve made sense for me to carry Haley’s coffin. You know that. I can see it in your face.”

It would have made sense. It would’ve made much more sense than Kevin Lynch. But Hotch’s words are the honest truth. It wouldn’t have mattered- not to him anyways- whether or not Spencer was able to carry that weight. He wouldn’t have asked. Would have rejected the offer if it was given. Found anyone else to be the final person.

“I know that.”

“So why would you not have asked?”

His reason- the true reason- is one that steers the majority of his decisions regarding Spencer. It is one that clouds his judgment and forces him to confront how human he is, and how the team were the only people (aside from Haley- who had always been perfect) to teach him that love didn’t need to hurt.

That people came back when they were angry.

The words that would explain his actions have been on the tip of his tongue since Gideon left. They almost slipped out after Chester Hardwick. And then Owen Savage. He wanted to say them when Reid almost died at the hands of Benjamin Cyrus, but he had pulled away at the last moment, too afraid of the consequences. He got stupidly close after the anthrax case. 

Something had always held him back. But Haley’s death reminded him of how fleeting life was. Haley died protecting her son, knowing Aaron would make the right decision and raise him to be a good man, but she should never have doubted the love Aaron had for her, and that was his fault. He wasn’t going to repeat that mistake.

“Because parents want to protect their children from all the evil in the world, no matter how unreasonable that may seem,” he blurts out.

Spencer’s brow furrows, and the resemblance to Jack terrifies him so much he almost laughs. He repeats the words to himself, clearly searching for some other meaning behind them. But in that way, Hotch and Reid are similar. They will only rarely say things they don’t mean.

“Oh,” is all Spencer is able to say.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to tell you that I look at you and see-”

“Can I hug you?” Spencer asks, cutting him off.

Hotch nods, unsure how else to respond. Spencer doesn’t use the cane as he moves onto the other sofa, opting to use the cushions as his support instead. When he’s close enough to reach out and touch Aaron’s hands, he takes them. Hotch cannot look at them, even though Morgan had washed and bandaged them almost immediately, so he stares at the ceiling instead.

Spencer’s touch is gentle and almost not there, but it feels like the safety of a childhood home that he had only ever read about in the books that served as his one escape in that little town that had no mercy for any boy that dared to speak out against their father.

“You’re a good father. To all of your children,” Spencer says.

“I know I’ve failed you. All of you. More times than I could possibly count, even though I remember every single one of them. But I always told myself that the one thing you would never do is carry a coffin that contains the body of someone you loved because of this job. Or because of my failures. It’s the only promise I’ve been able to keep.”

Spencer realises that Hotch is right. Although both him and Morgan had been on the time when Adrian Bale attacked, Hotch had organised the funerals without any input from the two of them, with all the pallbearers being family instead. No agents had died after JJ had joined, but the option of carrying Haley’s coffin hadn’t even existed for Emily.

It saddens Spencer to know that the only way Hotch is able to show how much he loves the team is by shielding them from certain horrors, and to protect them from the aspects of their jobs that cause them to wonder how much longer their hands will go cold when they see crime scenes. It makes him want to rage at the world for taking this man- this good and loving and kind man- and destroying him.

But his anger will terrify Aaron. Everyone’s anger terrifies him, because he always feels responsible. Always feels like it’s his influence, or his actions, or his failures. So he doesn’t say a word, knowing Hotch will appreciate the silence. He also knows that Hotch will understand and accept the silence for what it is: all of the words and emotions he would never be able to put into words, but so desperately needs him to believe.

It’s a haunting image. There is one one man so young he may still be a boy, and he is trying to hold the fragile and broken pieces of a man he had always believed was invincible and able to come back from anything together.

It is also a beautiful image. It proves that every child will eventually learn that their parent is not invincible, and that they get hurt and fail and mess up in the same way every single person does, but that the knowledge will not destroy them. If anything, it will comfort them because they will learn that no human is perfect, but they can still be good.

It will also be a moment ingrained in both their memories forever. Even if Spencer’s wasn’t eidetic, he would remember it. Because Aaron would not be able to keep this promise. The team would carry Emily Prentiss’ empty coffin only nine months later. And Spencer would carry Maeve Donovan’s, despite Aaron’s pleas to let somebody else handle the pain for him. When Spencer turns to him, and says he has to do it because he’s not a child that can be protected from any evil in the world- not when it emerges from the same cracks that should only contain love, they will both flinch.

Because he is right.

Because Aaron failed.

Again.

It’s funny, in a twisted sort of way, that his failures will always be associated with the bitter tang of death.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 4

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

Member: Lee Juyeon

Genre: angst and smut i promise (how can i not write smut with this gif right)

A/N: idk if you guys read my A/Ns... but look for the ** in this chapter, and play the bonus track i’ve linked. i apologise in advance if it hurts... it’s going to be a long chapter, so sit back and relax

Taglist: @muvtharecca​

“you always try to hide the pain”

kevin is sitting opposite you in a 24-hour convenient store, the scent of kimchi flavoured instant noodles wafting through the air. the snow outside was only making this hot, late-night supper even more endearing as if it wasn't already on its own.

the chopsticks snap away from each other with bare minimum energy while you pull off the flap and greet the cloud of hot vapour.

the day concluded with kevin and the interviewer thanking juyeon, and they must've known something was wrong because you shook his hand without a word.

they've never seen you try so hard to force out a smile.

"go ahead and eat, kev," you jam your chopsticks into the nicely cooked noodles, shaking the strands apart. "do you need an invitation?"

kevin is accustomed to your work ethics; he knows you don't like to talk about work outside the studio or the office building.

so he deems it valid to ask when he decides that there was something more than "work" between you and the guest they had today.

"so, lee juyeon," kevin mirrors your movements, watching you in some corner of his eyes. "he's an ex-boyfriend?"

the food masks your need to throw something at kevin, and frankly, you weren't really in the mood to go against your kind-hearted colleague. not just that, you were spent from the day.

the vast amounts of strength you had to summon from the witch scratching your insides out was enough to drain you. it feels like you had to entertain more than a guest today, when you only had one.

any other day and it would've been an easy day.

but not when it is lee juyeon. not when he has his lips on yours in your studio. not when you still love him.

"you can talk to me if you need to, y/n. it sucks to see you like this, and we've been colleagues for two years."

the hot noodles leave a scalding sensation on your lips when you slurp it up, but instead, a sourness wraps itself around the nerves in your nose.

"for context, if our boss was in the studio, he would not have condoned your behaviour. you know that," leaning forward, kevin tries to meet your eyes.

"but he wasn't, so case closed."

he sighs, shaking his head gently as he takes his first mouth of instant noodles.

it is a few minutes of silence that brings you peace. every now and then, one of you slurps and kevin's lips began to pink with the heat and spicyness of the food.

yet, when kevin breaks the silence to return to the topic, it is both a relief from the tension and an added stress to the fact that you have no clue how to run anymore.

"i know he followed you into the storage room, did he do anything to you inside? are you alright?"

"i'm fine."

silence.

you look up through your lashes and see that kevin is slurping a lone strand of noodles extremely slowly, squinting his eyes at you and shaking his head.

"i think you should know you can't lie for whack."

a scoff runs your warm throat dry, and you shove another good mouth through your lips.

"i know he was talking about you in the interview, y/n. why are you denying a bad break up? most couples go through this. so what if he lost you to another man? he said he wasn't prioritising you over his work.”

kevin knows you are trying to avoid the topic and you weren’t one to be aggressive with him. 

he chooses to pry.

“from what i got from the interview, it sounds like he was the one in the wrong.”

sure, he started it. 

but you were the one who slept with someone else.

“any normal girlfriend would’ve been upset, and of course if there was another, better guy in the picture, i wouldn’t have blamed her for moving on. i wouldn’t blame you.”

but you didn’t move on, did you?

“i highly doubt any of that was your fault--”

your attention pulls to kevin from the bowl and lock eyes with him. 

“i slept with someone else, kev.”

the silence is deafening, only the jingle from the entrance of the store interrupting the still air between the two of you. 

“...while you were with--”

“yeah,” your eyes gravitate back downwards, and a frown gets cemented into your forehead. 

the food no longer looks edible; it looks more like a bunch of dead worms floating in a pool of blood. 

you hear kevin suck a deep breath through his nostrils as you push the bowl away, your appetite shrinking by the second and then it disappears completely like dust in the wind. 

“is it...” someone pays for a cup of coffee and leaves the store. “...safe to say that the two of you were already estranged when you did it?”

estranged. 

more like non-existent.

“it felt like we broke up and i didn’t know about it. i don’t know how great of an analogy or explanation that is, but i know that it felt like that,” you pause, because it feels like you were going to hurl out half the portion of noodles you had. “we were on edge for like... months. four, five months. it’s like his phone got thrown out into the middle of the pacific ocean and he never bothered to get a new one or at least save my number and i just...”

you look up from the bowl because your eyes were welling and your lungs were beginning to collapse in on themselves. there was a look of pity and sympathy in kevin’s eyes. 

his lips were pursed and brows slightly furrowed; he doesn’t know what to say and you don’t blame him. 

“the other guy was just there for me in that time of... vulnerability. i just let myself fall for that temptation.”

your colleague is stunned, but never does he once look at you like it was your fault. it was extremely out of character for you to crash and break down in front of him, and you were sure he could tell you were putting in effort to keep yourself composed. 

“sorry,” a tear falls without mercy, and you hurry to get rid of it, simply offering a weak laugh to hide your feelings. 

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you emotional.”

“it’s alright,” you shake your head and sit up straight, eyes looking to the fluorescent lights above and blinking away the layer of tears in your eyes. “saw this conversation coming anyway.”

kevin pushes out a tiny, bare smile by pursing his lips. 

you let kevin continue with his food because you couldn’t eat anymore, and your attention gravitates back to the outside world where the snow was gently falling onto the pavements. 

bright white lights reflected off the snow on the floor looking like crystals from afar, and you just can’t find enough strength to push the memory of juyeon out of your head. 

the gush of wind that greets your face would’ve been refreshing had you not just been on the verge of crumbling infront of kevin. 

he thanks the cashier behind you and follows you out onto the streets, pulling his beanie over his ears. he watches you close your eyes, snow falling into your lashes and your hair over the back of your coat. 

“i know it’s not in my place to say much, but if it’s anything i learnt from being in a relationship, it’s that you need to face whatever haunts you.”

his words sink into your skin like a cold blanket of truth, because you know it’s right. the tip of your nose numbs with the cold weather when you open your eyes and look at kevin, his presence alone enough to comfort you. 

there was probably no other person you’d be this comfortable talking to about the biggest mistake you made in your life. 

“i know.”

he nods, and turns to the left, expecting you to follow because you stay just about a ten minute walk from him.

but when he notices that you don’t budge from the spot you were standing on, and two passerbys were visibly confused with your lack of movement, kevin returns to your side and gives you a pat on the head. 

“call me if you need anything.”

like before, a nod shakes your head before you could process the movement, and kevin walks away, giving you one last look before he disappears around the corner of the building.

it is taxing to hit the button on the lift panel, watch the numbers on the display screen decrease number by second. 

it is overwhelming when the doors open, and snow falls off your shoulders when you stroll in, finger hovering over the button.

“i didn’t know i needed her until i lost her, and i lost her to another man. it was the biggest mistake then, and it’ll probably be the biggest mistake i’ll ever make.”

your lungs fill itself with a deep breath, the cold air piercing through your pores and nerves as the button lights up with a displeasing shade of red light. 

i’ll believe you this once, lee juyeon. 

we both found a chance to slit each other’s throats open and we both did. 

the gears of the lift doors grind open and a door along the corridor is wide open as someone walks in after pulling off his shoes. 

you step out without much thought, that is, until that person’s head sticks out beyond the door frame and the striped shirt is glaringly familiar to you. 

juyeon picks up his shoes and naturally, his eyes follow his line of movement. 

the eye contact seizes you in your footsteps, and it freezes juyeon the same. his back was slightly bent over, very obviously surprised that you were standing in the hallways of his residence. 

it takes him a few moments to process your face, your hands that were covered in gloves and the handbag you had dangling around your waist. 

your hair, lashes and brows were sprinkled with bits of snow; your grip around the straps of your handbag tight with tension. 

juyeon slowly resumes a proper standing position, each shoe hanging on each of his index and middle fingers as he blinks at you. 

he doesn’t say a word and the lift doors close behind you, but his door doesn’t when he turns and disappears into his apartment. 

just this once.

apologise, and you’re through.

he is not good for you and neither are you, for him.

his apartment is cozy; shoe rack, dining table on the right and a small kitchen beyond, living room. carpet, television, sofa, hallway to the private rooms.

you use your feet to get your boots off, carefully placing them by the shoe rack after dusting off the bits of snow from the wool outside the door. 

the apartment smells like juyeon and it makes you sick to your stomach when it haunts you like a dream you never woke up from; when it rips you apart all over again after five years. 

he walks into view from the hallway, arms crossed tightly across his chest and he looks at you like he was expecting something from you. 

just say what you need to say and go. 

you do not owe him anything. 

“are you here to gawk at my apartment like it’s a showroom or are you here because you wanted to do something?”

fool. 

it is surprisingly easy to contain the frustration now, because you were simply sick of it. there was no reason to remain annoyed with him, nor let him get to you all so easily when he was like this then; obviously he hasn’t changed that much. 

“i...” the neurons in your head struggle to piece the sentence together. “i came to apologise.”

kevin’s words repeat in your brain like a broken record when you look away, for juyeon was staring at you with slightly widened eyes now. he doesn’t even try to hide his surprise or shock -- or maybe he just couldn’t.

you apologising was probably the last thing he expected, yet you were here on your own initiative, spitting out words that he never thought he would hear. 

it requires a rather commendable amount of courage to look up back at juyeon again, his gaze tearing through you like a chainsaw through wood. 

“we had our differences and problems back then but i know it broke you when you found me... with sangyeon.”

you pause, thinking that he’d say something to piss you off or aggravate the situation, but his temples are tightened because he is hiding his feelings; his pain. 

“so... i’m sorry,” a pause. the muscles in your forehead contract and juyeon doesn’t move a single inch. “i don’t need you to apologise, because i don’t know what exactly happened... maybe something happened and i didn’t know but i know myself that i should not have slept with sangyeon, regardless the status of our relationship.”

at least say something, juyeon.

anything.

**  

a car honks outside, the snow getting heavier and falling like feathers of doves being shot down from the sky. the city lights outside the window were flickering with the snow blocking your view of them, but the still atmosphere was holding you by the neck; the cold temperature a knife at your throat. 

there was a kind of pain and trauma in his face that feels like paper cuts on your heart. you know very well he was playing that fateful day like a movie in his head, seeing you in bed with another man. 

you would’ve stopped him right there and then, tell him not to think about it, but that’s what you were here to apologise for anyway. 

gravity pulls your chin down to the ground with shame, your jaws clenching and your temples tightening under your beanie. the skin around your knuckles whiten with the amount of strength you were offering the straps of your handbag, 

a soft shuffle snaps you out of your blank, yet panicking mind that glued its eyes to the floor, and you watch juyeon’s feet with his socks on enter your field of vision. 

your lids squeeze shut, his voice rumbling through your nerves like an internal earthquake and you suddenly berate yourself for thinking this was a good idea.

“did you mean what you said today?”

his touch on your chin forces you out of your mental escape, your jaw being pulled upwards so you could meet his eyes.

i still love you, and i don’t want to break you again... so please don’t break me anymore.

it feels like all your motivation and confidence had drained into him through his finger under your chin, and if you weren’t already beating yourself up inside for saying that to him earlier today, you would’ve probably passed out. 

the layer of glistening tears in his eyes feels like boiling poison in your stomach, because the realisation of his truth only hits you now. 

but you don’t want to hear it.

the last time you were in love with him and he was in love with you, it was like pairing a matchstick with a wax candle: both eventually die out because of the other. 

denial washes all over you like waves during a thunderstorm in the form of an abrupt, shake of your head, even under his touch. it ached more than you liked it to have to deny the truth in what you said today, but you cannot break juyeon again.

“no, i--” your chin shifts out of his hold and your eyes dart away from his face. “i didn’t mean it--”

but didn’t you?

juyeon has your jaw in his hands again, lips cushioned against yours. 

it feels like a spear had been driven through your face when you taste his tears between your lips. 

it tastes like toxins and rotten eggs and saltwater and it makes you want to hurl; not because you hated it but because you hated how much it was hurting him.

“juyeon,” your hands push him away but he grabs both your wrists, the seizure halting you in your movements. 

“what are you so scared of?”

the question is like a dump of cold water on you, and you see nothing but remorse in his eyes. 

“...breaking you... it hurts me to know that i can, and i don’t want to do it anymore. i did it once, i don’t want to do it again.”

your voice cracks under the pressure and a tear rolls down his cheek. the urge to reach up and wipe it off his face was so intense, your hands started to tremble in his grip.

“i meant what i said during the interview today. and if you meant what you said, then it means there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

life has just shoved you off an edge, an edge that you were standing on after running away from juyeon.

only for you to fall off and into his arms again. 

he shoves his lips between yours, almost violently, when he pulls you forward by your wrists. 

he guides your arms around his shoulders and behind his neck, while his hands find your waist and rest on your lower back, keeping the length of your body close to his. 

your hair under your beanie loosens when he pulls it off, and the next to go was your handbag that he slides off your shoulder and lays it somewhere on the ground. 

don’t make me close one more door

it still doesn’t feel too far for no return, until he takes your hand and rests it on his cheek while he kisses you softly. his lips part and so do yours, instinctively, but he doesn’t force himself into your mouth. 

i don’t want to hurt anymore

the warmth from his palm over yours on his cheek melts you like the snow outside, and before you knew it, he pulls away, looking to see if you were going to turn your back on him and run.

stay in my arms if you dare

yet, the want to run is no longer in control. 

or must i imagine you there?

there was no need to say anything, because it was written all over his face and in his eyes. 

he slots his lips between yours again like puzzle pieces, this time feeling much more whole, much less in pain, much more in love; in love again.

the supposedly dead doves on the street writhes to life as a familiar fire in your chest lights up again. 

don’t walk away from me

both his hands cup your cheeks and your hands are gripping onto the material around his elbows when he starts walking you backwards. 

i have nothing 

a wall meets your back, sandwiching you between the cold concrete and the warmth that was emitting from the length of his body.

if i don’t have you

his scent fills your nostrils like flowers in a field and it is almost nauseating to have it so near to you. not only were you smelling it, you were tasting it, and having it in your grasp was extremely surreal.

you break the kiss first and look at the skin on his neck before finding the courage to look back up at him. 

there is a mild frown on his forehead, his palms still holding your face so gently, it feels like you were cushioned in feathers.

“juyeon...”

the name rolls off your tongue like a song lost in time, and juyeon simply angles his head downwards to meet your lips again. 

you must’ve been a fool to believe that five years was enough for you to forget about juyeon, not when you’ve spent nearly the same amount of time being his significant other. 

either that, or you were just never meant to escape juyeon’s life, nor rid him from yours. 

maybe now you understand why people do stupid things when they are in love, because they just don’t think it’s stupid. they do it because their heart propels them to do so; they do it because nobody can replace the feeling that this special someone can offer, that only this person can offer.

so when he has you cushioned cozily into the pillows of his bed and your coat and winter wear long gone somewhere, leaving you in just the first layer of clothes you have on, you realise what he’s trying to compensate.

you couldn’t tell if juyeon was just childishly bitter about the fact that you lost your virginity to another man, or that he was still in disbelief about how he treated you back then. 

one thing was for certain though, he is showering you with kisses and caresses that you would’ve otherwise not expected from juyeon. 

the whines and sighs pouring out between your lips sound like a soft lullaby and  he was revelling in the fact that he should’ve given this to you sooner. 

instinctively, your fingers find the rim of juyeon’s top and riles it up, running your skin over the warmth of his skin and smelling more of his cologne when the material brushes across your face as he removes it. 

he looks down at you and his gaze causes goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

they are loving and desperate for love. they are warm and cold with the memory of how you ended. they are full of desire and hungry for validation.

it doesn’t take him long to attach his lips to yours again once he’s done admiring the features on your face; features that he had lost for so long, he was worried he might forget them. 

as strange as it seemed, having him drag your clothes off you only to stop and stare at the shade of your skin makes you feel like you were truly exposed to him. it is alien and it makes you want to shrivel up under him, because he was not the person you slept with.

but before you could hide yourself away from him, he litters kisses all over your skin. your cleavage, your stomach. fingers brushing over the skin of your hips and thighs, encouraging your hand reaching down to look for his face.

when his cheek is brushed with your fingertips, he looks up through his lashes and it feels like this should’ve happened in place of sangyeon. 

the memory of sangyeon providing you the love and affection you needed engulfs you in flames and your chin tilts to the ceiling, silently begging the heavens to provide you enough strength to keep your tears in. 

juyeon, reading your body language, reaches to his nightstand and pulls out a black sash, something that looked like it belonged to his costume when you saw him at the club two weeks ago. 

“hey,” he leans forward and gives you a peck on the lips. pulling you upwards, he wraps his arm around your waist as he sits down. the position confuses you for awhile, until he pulls you onto his lap and lets you sit on his thighs. 

looking down at him while feeling the warmth of his legs under your rear is slightly unsettling; it has been way too long. 

“me saying sorry won’t cut it,” he slides the sash into your hands and brings them up to his face. “so i’m letting you do whatever you want.”

you decide that lee juyeon has lost his mind when he guides your hands and ties the sash around his eyes.

a frown draws itself into your forehead before you realise he can’t see your expression. 

your lips part in a bid to protest, to ask if he’s lost his fucking mind; but juyeon grabs your wrists and plants kisses into your palms.

your stomach is churning and your eyes are tearing up all over again when he starts trailing them down the inner side of your wrists and forearms. the intimacy of this entire ordeal draws a high on your consciousness, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips when he pulls away.

if this is his way of earning validation, then you have no authority to keep him from being validated. 

your palms press flat against his shoulders, gently pushing him backwards until he’s lying down on the mattress with your knees straddling the sides of his hips. 

the scent that you remember wafting through your nose for so long, so long ago is strongest around his neck. fragile memory invites you to that very spot, dipping your nose into his skin and attaching your lips to the spot under where his jaw led up to his ear.

the heavy breathing from his inflated nostrils already sounds like frustration, and it begins to hurt in your chest that juyeon is punishing himself.

he’s letting you do it only because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

your fingers replace the spot where your lips were, and circles of innocent pain draws themselves into his skin. 

his adam’s apple bobs up and down when he gulps, and you try to contemplate your next move. 

it shouldn’t be this difficult.

it really shouldn’t. 

not when he deserves to suffer for what he did.

but you were the one who slept with someone else.

frustration builds up inside you like a pressure flask, or a volcano for that matter. 

juyeon and his affection were the only things you ever wanted.

punishing him would be as good as punishing yourself. even if it was valid, it was, unfortunately, driving a nail through your spine. 

it hurt to let the realisation of his self-punishment sink in. 

“juyeon,” you pull off the blindfold and shake your head at him. “i can’t.”

a muscle in his cheek twitches, and his bare chest heaving up and down under your palms allows you to feel his heartbeat. 

what was this? some dumb game of chess? were you too dumb to let up so easily or was juyeon just too petty about what happened five years ago? it feels like a game of push and pull that was never going to end.

that is, until juyeon opens his mouth. 

“i’m sorry.” 

your eyes dart around his, frantically searching for any sign of pretence or inauthenticity. 

but you are shocked when you see sincerity, and nothing but him wanting to prove himself. 

your heart is racing and thumping so hard, you were sure juyeon could hear it.

it feels like the weight of the world has crashed down on you, at the same time the heavens finally ridding you of the witch that has been peeling your insides and throwing them out of your body in the form of tears. 

the gravity of the apology sinks into you too soon, because you shove your lips between his before you could even process your own actions. 

digging his fingers into your thighs, he pushes you back so you were lying down again, never once breaking the kiss.

you wonder if you were giving in too easily when he slips his tongue through your lips without much effort, but feeling his heart rush against yours is a sensation to be reckoned with.

it does not feel real. it does not feel like you deserve it.

the friction of your pants being pulled off your thighs earns your attention, but he is drinking your moans and feeling you writhe under him. 

the cool air followed by a thud tells you that your pants are on the floor, leaving you in your lingerie and him in his pants. so your fingers run across his biceps and reach south, slightly aggressively undoing his belt. 

sparks fly when juyeon smiles into the kiss. 

oh, how much i missed you. 

he shifts around in a bid to get rid of his pants, breaking the kiss in the process. 

panting and trying to catch your breath from the excessive making out, juyeon slides his arm under you and flips you over carefully.

he doesn’t remove your bra, and maybe it was because he wanted to know he wasn’t doing this because he wanted sex, the way you accused him of it two weeks ago. 

chills run down your spine with every instant his lips are on the skin of your back, and then your inner thighs and you find yourself shaking under him.

not because you were scared, but because this was right. 

the mattress around your legs shift, a finger trails the skin near your core and the air meets your needy wetness you didn’t even realise was becoming prominent. 

the bedsheet gets crumpled in your hands when he pulls it off, lifting your legs for you to remove it. 

then his palms are gripping the back of your thighs and his tongue meets your entrance. 

a hiss runs through your teeth and you shut your eyes.

the bliss is overwhelming, and your entire body was tremoring from the sensation of him dipping his tongue into you. 

his fingers find your sensitive nub, making you pool more for him to lap up. 

just when it becomes too unbearable, he removes himself from your south. burying your face into the pillow, one of his hands grips the flesh of your rear.

it feels like a warm blanket when he leans down, chest against your back and his left arm supporting his weight next to your ear. “tell me if it hurts.”

he greets you at your entrance, prodding slightly and driving inappropriate thoughts into your head as if you weren’t already halfway there. 

so you nod, and he plants a kiss on your shoulder as he pushes into you. 

your temples tighten with the pain when you feel him stretching out your walls, your fingers gripping onto the bedsheet like you were strangling someone. 

his right arm is holding your stomach under you, his lips still leaving lingering dollops of love and care on your shoulders. 

he waits until the look of pain has vanished, and the thrusts start out light because you were still adjusting to him. 

but it doesn’t take long for the small winces of pain to turn into gentle mewls and moans of pleasure. 

you turn and bury your face into the pillow, trying to muffle out your own desperation. 

so it is a surprise when juyeon abruptly pulls out and flips you over on your back, and you provide him one extremely annoyed sigh. 

he smirks at you, and you don’t mind it one bit. 

“nothing to be ashamed of.”

he wraps his legs around his hips as he looms over you, arms on either side of your head against the mattress. the combination of him pushing into you and pressing his lips against yours is of immense bliss and satisfaction.

you have all of him now, and this was meant to be. 

hips hips roll against yours instead of rampant thrusting, so that he could maintain his lips on yours. he was careful and meticulous and he wants you to know that he still loves you.

if that is what he’s doing, he’s doing a damn good job at it.

his hips are grinding against your sensitive nub and the rolling was maximising the friction of his length inside you, so it doesn’t take much for him to help you reach your high. 

“juyeon--”

“i know,” he whispers to you, lips just about an inch away from yours when his eyes dig into your half-hooded ones.

you expected your body to regurgitate all the memories of sangyeon, but nothing comes to mind.

the only person in your head is juyeon, and you had absolutely no problem with it.

he helps you reach your high and your back archs off the mattress as he drinks the pleasure spewing out your throat. 

he pulls out, just after he helps you ride it out, and he releases on your stomach and your thighs with sweat sticking his gelled hair to his forehead. 

your arms slide under his pillows and your chest heaves from the intimacy. it takes you awhile to realise you are staring at his chest and collarbones and face before he crawls back towards you.

he angles his head to kiss you again, this time willingly smiling into the act of affection. 

“does this mean you accept my apology?”

you suck your lips between your teeth when he pulls away, his hands brushing your hair out of your face and stroking your cheek.

“yes,” you nod subtly. “but only if you clean your mess off me.”

juyeon jabs the inner side of his cheek with tongue and looks away for a second.

he leans forward once more, kissing you on the forehead this time. 

“i love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued (final)

[codename-adler]

Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt. VI

This bit explores Kevin’s sexual identity and his relationship to Jean, so, you know, not all funs and games... But very cathartic to write. I love them.

>> Table of Contents, TW and other parts are here!

after Juliet’s confession, their little talk does not flow any easier, but despite the rocky start and their dirty secrets, they push through the stuff that matters

it’s like a dam burst open

though, some subjects remain silenced

no parents, no exy, no relationships, no entourage, no names…

it’s just them

Kevin stays well into the afternoon

he has no class on Tuesdays, except in the mornings and, well, for once, he chose to rearrange his priorities

it wasn’t even a difficult choice, it wasn’t even a question: he had to stay, simple as that

he even missed morning practice

morning practice

it scares him, he feels the restlessness running through his veins, he feels guilty, guilty, guilty… and so, so weak…

but that was easier than leaving Juliet in the state she was

that had never happened before

not even with Jean

he’s used to flight, not fight

as for Juliet, either she didn’t have class or she chose the same as Kevin

either way, both were unspokenly grateful

sometimes, Juliet would fall asleep 

sometimes she’d go non verbal and simply watch Kevin do his homework

one time he fell asleep

he woke up extremely tense, his jaw hurting from the clenching and his back protesting against his curled up position on the floor (really, an elite athlete should know better)

Juliet was looking at him strangely

“Can I ask for another truth?” she said quietly

he nodded calmly while his heart went racing

“Who’s Jean?”

ah

“You said his name in your sleep. A lot. Are you usually a sleeptalker? I know I sleepwalk sometimes, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked,” she added

Kevin took an awful long time to think

he was looking at Juliet without really seeing her

instead he was imagining Jean’s bruised and battered face

he started speaking without refocusing his gaze, staring in the distance behind Juliet

“Jean is… He’s the one who taught me French. He’s the one who made me discover philosophy, Sartre and Hell is other people and all. He’s the one who listened first. He is the man that knows my shames, my failures, my mistakes, my ugly side, the man who knew and still looked at me as a human being with worth. He’s the one who showed me how to reset a dislocated shoulder. He’s the one I used to talk to in the middle of the night, about future plans or crazy ideas or incredible historical discoveries. He was my crutch when I couldn’t stand on my own anymore. He’s the one who kept my spirits up when times were tough. He is the man who kept me alive without either of us realizing it until it was too late. He is the man that I took for granted, the man I left behind without a second thought when things got too bad. I could beg for forgiveness my whole life and it still wouldn’t be enough to do right by him. He is the only person that has ever left me speechless. He can make my mind go blank, he can make me lose my words, he can shut me up with just a word. He’s the only one I let, at least. Jean is… So much. Too much, sometimes.”

Kevin’s throat tightened as he spoke, fists clenching and unclenching, his stomach twisting into knots of guilt and shame

if he’d been able to cry, Kevin would have shed burning tears

but he couldn’t

it’s as if everything in his system had been ready to cry, only for his body to realize that his water tank was completely empty of tears

and if Juliet hadn’t been looking at him with such intensity and such intent, Kevin would’ve ran away to Jean’s bedside right this second

three entire languages couldn’t even begin to express everything that Jean was to Kevin

Jean was every single emotion Kevin had ever felt in his short yet brutal existence, wrapped in one person as complex as the mechanics of the world

Kevin thought back on that first night when he allowed himself to be close to Jean since his escape from Edgar Allen

he thought back on how, with a single touch, all their entangled feelings came rushing back to the surface

how Kevin had never wanted to let go ever again, but the dark and violent waves of emotions had made his instincts scream with the urge to run away

Kevin had forgotten Juliet was still a witness to his battle

“Jean was… is… you ex?” she asked, something like wariness in her eyes

and what

“What?” he even says aloud

“Jean was your partner? Before… whatever it is you overcame?” Juliet repeats

“No!?”

“Okay… I’m sorry, Kevin… I didn’t mean…” she apologizes

“Why would you say that?” Kevin harshly asks

“Why wouldn’t I? It seems you two shared a very special bond, that’s all I’m saying,” she replies

she couldn’t possibly know

she couldn’t know

how would she know?

only two people in this godforsaken existence knew about these secrets in the dark, one of them being barely conscious in a bed a few minutes away, and the other one being himself

it was impossible that Juliet knew about what had transpired between him and Jean

“Kevin?” Juliet’s voice finally reaching him

“I said ‘Sorry for assuming’, I shouldn’t have done that. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Kevin considered their exchange

“I think I want to talk about it. To you,” Kevin finally spoke

Juliet nodded slowly, ever so careful, a silent yet binding promise passing between them

and so Kevin told her everything

absolutely everything

everything that didn’t touch exy, Riko, the Ravens, but that still left plenty, enough to cover many pages of poetry

he told her about how it had started between them, how Jean’s resilience had intrigued Kevin and how it had made him discover that there was more to life than his adoptive-brother

how Kevin had wanted a part of that rebellion Jean carried in his heart, how he tutored Kevin in French to share that slow-burning flame

he told her how for the first time in his life, Kevin’s entire focus wasn’t on one thing, but on a person too

he told her how their midnight talks became as important to him as his duty was

he told her how he began fighting for something else without knowing what it was, or why

he told her how on these nights, as Jean was teaching him verb tenses in French, their heads had, inch by inch, made their way closer to the other’s, until their foreheads were touching and their whispers barely made a sound on their lips

he told her how one fateful night, as Jean was teaching him the future tenses, their faces hadn’t stopped moving once their foreheads touched

how that simple touch hadn’t been enough anymore

how Jean had been his first kiss, his every kisses for the longest time

how he had been Jean’s first kiss, too

he told her how they had been each other’s first for everything

how they had been each other’s everything for a long time

he also told her how his fear and his shame, and his ambition, had ruined what they had

how his and Jean’s “situation” made it so, so hard

how once he was 17 and was “promoted”, Kevin didn’t choose Jean back

how it was on-and-off between them even when he showed interest towards Thea, also his now ex

how he had “moved” when shit hit the fan, and how he didn’t bring Jean with him because he was too scared, too self-centered, too weak

he told her how nobody knew back then, how nobody knows even now, because he had denied everything to everyone, including himself

and he told her how Jean was back, now, and how the memories came flooding back in with that same sour, yet familiar taste of shame, guilt, and fear

Kevin talked and talked and talked…

and Juliet listened

and Kevin cried, or rather, tears escaped his saddened eyes without even realizing it

and Juliet cried, too

they both wiped away the mess with the sleeves of their sweaters

“I have nothing to say about guilt and shame, but… If you liked Jean, if you loved him… if you still do… that is so okay, Kevin. It’s just love. You find it where you can. There’s nothing wrong with that, or with you. That’s how I see it… how I- I see you. You’re still you, Kevin.”

“You don’t know me,” Kevin replied fast, without thinking

Juliet just raised her eyebrow in a really, Kevin? way

“Look at where we are… Look at me… This isn’t even my worst. And I don’t believe it’s yours either. But it’s not pretty. Give us a little credit here, Kev; we’re not strangers anymore. Please don’t be a stranger… “

“Okay, Jules”

---

Kevin left Jackie Hall after sundown, with his heart heavy and his mind racing, but his shoulders a little lighter than yesterday

nothing in his life had magically changed into a goddamn fairytale, yet it felt different

Jules had told him nobody could decide who he was, that was his decision and his alone

he held that power, and only he chose who could wield some of it

he could choose what to do with it, and that thing could be outside of exy

at least, it could be for someone, instead of something

someone like Jean

on his way back to the familiarity Abby’s, back to Jean, he began plotting

by the time he was back by the bedside of the person he’d held so close to his heart and his lips, once upon a time, Kevin had formed a plan to give Jean the happy ending he so deserved

he’d have to make a few calls to USC, to the Trojans, to Jeremy Knox, he’d have to be careful of what he revealed, he’d have to convince Jean to leave, he’d have to convince himself to let Jean go, too, but he believed it was worth it

and if once in a while, in his cautious planning of Jean’s second chance at life, Kevin absentmindedly thought of a certain face framed with frizzy hair when the words “happy ending” kept nagging him, well no one could take that away from him either

[clueless-content-creator]

Lee Jaehyun x Kim Younghoon: Mistakes, Mistakes, and More Mistakes

Genre: Pure angst, The Slightest Fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Mentions of a Car Accident, Cheating, Manipulation, Slight Harassment, Swearing, (A lot of it) Happy ending!

5/28/2016

"Dear Lee Jaehyun, I'm heartbroken that I have to tell you this but... I already know that you are cheating on me. It was no secret.. At the very least not well kept. Unfortunately, I also know that it's been going on for some time now. Why would you hide something like this from me? We promised to always be honest with each other but I guess that was another blatant lie. I'm going to try to make this short and sweet and not to pour my feelings out but I hope you live a good long life with your new girlfriend. As much as I want to hate you for what you've done to me, I will continue to root for you and be happy for you because I still care... and love you. I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your life, without me. Whenever you find this, whether it's years later, an hour later (after I've written this), or before you pass away. Just know I'll always be by your side.. Even if I'm not actually there. This is my last goodbye, I love you Hyunjae. Never forget me." - Jung Y/N

It has been five years since you've last seen Hyunjae. And a lot has changed, you and Younghoon have gotten together after you left Hyunjae. Plus The Boyz disbanded, but they all still hang out every once in a while when they all have a chance. You heard that Hyunjae is still with his girlfriend, and they are planning on getting married soon. He also has 2 kids with her already. (Which you heard he regrets too) But one night, he had enough of her whining about wanting more kids so he took a walk around the park hoping to get some fresh air. Instead, he got heartache at the sight of you on the swing with Kevin, Jacob, and Eric surrounding you. 'She looks sad.' Hyunjae thought. "Please guys, just- just go away! I'm sorry but I'm not in the mood to talk about my situation with Younghoon." Right as Jacob went to reply, the rest of the group came running out trying to stop Younghoon from going near you. "Sorry Y/n," Sangyeon panted. "We tried to stop him but he ran really fast to get to you." You shook your head, "It's okay. Just please give me some time alone." Younghoon disagreed, "Listen, it's not over for me." A warm sensation that rolled down your face distracted you. You didn't know you were actually crying until Younghoon softly wiped the tears away, bringing you into his embrace. "I'm so sorry baby, I really do love you." He whispered under his breath. He's right, he does love you but he's not in love with you, and that's the problem. "Please just get away from me!" You shouted at him as you yanked your wrist back, freeing yourself from his grip. "Seriously Younghoon, don't say something you know you don't mean." You sighed heavily. The rest of the group was quiet, not saying anything nor moving an inch. You pointed your index finger at them, "I knew you all were cowards but I didn't know you were all idiots. Did you really think you could hide him cheating on me with who I thought was my best friend?.. Did you!?" You screamed the last part, your hands gripping your hair in frustration. "I can't believe you all... I can't believe all of you actually covered up his lie." Sangyeon sighed deeply, "Y/n.. I promise it was a mistake we dared him to ask her out, it wasn't-" You felt the anger rise to an unbearable point. "A MISTAKE? A FUCKING MISTAKE!? A DARE ISN'T A MISTAKE YOU-! IT'S ALL YOUR GUY'S FAULT!" You yelled before, stopping to take a deep breath. Then collapsing on the ground, tears brimming your eyes. "I'm so fucking done. I've said enough." You sniffed before getting up, ignoring your scratched-up hands and knees. "Will you at least spend the night at our place? I-It's really late! If you won't let us do that at least let us or one of us take you home." Jacob pleaded, looking extremely guilty. "No. I don't want anything from you guys anymore, you've done enough damage as it is." He sighed heavily, his hands running through his hair. Trying to rack his brain to think of excuses to get you to stay. Hyunjae felt like he was watching a drama, he felt as though he could do nothing to help. So he decided to leave you and the boys alone, being the same coward you left years ago. 

You roamed the streets searching for a place to sit. Finally, you reached a closed restaurant with seats outside. You let out a deep sigh, feeling tears in your eyes as you remembered the night's events. 

Flashback 

It was just a normal movie night that you were having with the boys. You were enjoying it but something felt...wrong. It wasn't until Younghoon's phone rang several times and refused to tell you who it was that you started feeling unsettled. When you saw the boys exchange eye contact multiple times in a row, that also made you suspect them. You tried to relax and tell yourself that you were making things up in your head but as soon as he went to the bathroom, you grabbed his phone straight away. The boys weren't paying attention otherwise they probably would've taken it from you. But right as you picked it up you saw a text from 'Minju.' My best friend? He surely isn't cheating on me with her, right? But when you actually read the text, that thought changed almost instantly.

Minju💕💌: Hey sexy, why aren't picking up my calls? Poor thing, your shit girlfriend is probably making the worst love to you right now, so I'll leave you be and call later 💞 

You remember feeling sick to your stomach when reading that message. Thousands of awful thoughts went through your head. You knew that Younghoon was aware of your insecurity about him hanging around pretty girls all the time (or so you thought) but even with that, you still trusted Minju because she was your best friend and had a fiancée of her own. Wonder what happened to that... But you remember wanting to yell at Younghoon when he got out of the bathroom, instead you calmly handed him his phone and then texted him on your phone. Saying this.. 

My One And Only🥰: "I trusted you. And you, plus Minju both broke my trust. Please don't contact me ever again." 

He suddenly looked up at you in shock, trying to grab your wrist but couldn't. You quickly got up from your seat, grabbing your keys, phone, and bag. Rushing to get out the door, stuffing the others thing inside your bag. "Hey, Y/n!" Was the last thing you heard before running out of the apartment. 

Suddenly a cold presence beside you brought you out of your thoughts. "Hey there, pretty lady. Wanna come back to my home with me?" Your face scrunched up in dismay. "No thank you." He smiled before caressing your cheek, making you cringe even more. "Aw sweetie, don't be shy. Come on!" The stranger grabbed your wrist, then pulled you closer inches away from your face. You tried to push him away but he wouldn't budge. "Ugh, I said no-" He then fell to the ground. An unknown figure punching him until he was unconscious. "She said no... asshole." Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the familiar voice. You gasped when you looked up, "Sunwoo?" He nodded, patting your head gently, then quietly asking if you were okay. "I-I'm fine, thank you.. What made you come back to look for me? I thought you guys didn't care whether I was okay or not." You spoke quietly, slouching back in the chair. "The rest might not, but I certainly do.. A-anyways Y/n, look, even though we all messed up in one way or another, you shouldn't hold a grudge for too long because before you know it something bad might happen and you won't be able to say a proper goodbye." You nodded quietly, taking in what he just told you. But, Minju and Younghoon don't deserve to have their apologies accepted. Before you could thank him for his wise advice, he got a sudden phone call. "Hello?" Sunwoo's face dropped, "They're where!? I-In the hospital?.. A-alright, I'll be there as soon as possible, thank you." He bit his lip before rapidly explaining the situation. "Come on, we need to go now!" 

The sounds of shoes squeaking against the tile flooring made you wince a bit but you ignored it. Sunwoo quickly went up to the front desk in a hurry. "Excuse me, I was the guy you were talking to early on the phone, do you mind telling us where rooms 126 and 127 are, please?" The front desk staff nodded and got up from her seat as we followed her steps to the rooms. 'Rooms'? I thought to myself. 'There's more than one person hurt'? I chewed on my bottom lip nervously, suddenly remembering my own cuts and scrapes from earlier. "Here's the first room, the second room is right next door." Sunwoo bowed to the woman and thanked her before hurriedly opening it, revealing Sangyeon in the hospital bed with cuts and bruises, as well as more than a few casts on his body making you physically and mentally hurt. "Y-Y/n!" He panted out, as I ran to him. "Don't force it, just relax!" I spoke softly while stroking his head. "I-I'm so sorry." You tilted your head, "F-for what?" You were shaking until he grasped your hands gently. "Younghoon's situation... I promise we didn't mean to do it on purpose- well, we did but we didn't think he'd actually make the move on her, but-" You sat there absentmindedly listening, blinking slowly. "You know, you're just making it worse for yourself.." He sighed heavily, "I'm aware, I'd just like to apologize for all of it," He placed his right hand on your cheek, making some tears fall down your face. "Oh gosh no, please don't cry! You are too pretty to cry." You both laughed at his comment. "I forgive you Sangyeon... Just don't even do this again! By the way, what actually did happen for you to get into this shape-" The door suddenly burst open making you jump which made Sangyeon laugh, "Y/n! Someone wants to see you." You didn't even notice Sunwoo left the room so you were puzzled to see him at the door. "Who?" You faintly asked. Sunwoo shrugged, "You'll have to see for yourself." He smirked slightly, walking out of the room to somewhere else. You looked back at Sangyeon, asking him permission to go with your eyes, him nodding in response. "You are free to go and come back." He smiles wholeheartedly. You thanked him and quickly sprinted out the door, seeing Sunwoo go into another room, but it wasn't room 127. You furrowed your eyebrows for a quick moment before shrugging it off, speed-walking into the next room. Before you went into the room you peeked in the little hole at the top of the door. You saw a few of the boys in the room surrounding the unknown person. You sighed dejectedly before opening the door as quietly as possible, except the creaking of the door gave it away as everyone turned to you. "Heh- Hi guys..." You cleared your throat as you awkwardly waved at them. Jacob jumped up and ran to you, "Oh thank Irene your okay!" He beamed at you making you smile back at him in return. "So, who brought you here then?" Kevin questioned. You turned toward the door expecting to see Sunwoo but he wasn't there. "Um.. Sunwoo did. He said it was an emergency so we rushed here." You looked down at the ground, feeling slightly unsettled. As you were looking down you saw a note on the ground that had "Dear Y/n," written on it. You heard some shuffling in the room so you quickly stepped on the note, preventing anyone else from seeing and taking it since it had your name on it. "Y/n-ah, are you okay?" Juyeon asked gently, placing his hand on your shoulder. You nodded, looking back up at him. Before you could register everything, you saw Younghoon lying in the hospital bed. You gasped and covered your mouth, moving closer towards the door, completely forgetting about the note. "You look like you've seen a ghost, are you sure you're alright?" Juyeon’s hand that was on your shoulder was now on your waist. "Yes, I'm great! I, uh- will be right back!" You reassured them before quickly running out of the room. You searched for the room that Sunwoo went in earlier. Finally reaching room 103, you slowly crept into the room seeing Hyunjae this time. But before any anger could fill you up, you paused seeing him also covered in cuts and bruises just the same as Sangyeon (if not, worse) as well as stuck in casts and wrapped up with bandages too. He was fast asleep so you didn't want to wake him up but you walked closer, still being intrigued by him as you always were. With the door suddenly opening plus the sound of a group of voices you knew sounded familiar, you quickly ran and hid in the closet. "Do you know where Y/n went? I can't seem to find her anywhere." Whoever he was talking to must've shaken their head judging by the fact they weren't talking. "I don't know either Sunwoo, just let her be. She doesn't deserve to see any of them anyway but Jacob said that she visited them and then ran off." I gasped slightly, which almost gave away my position, except right when I gasped the door flung open. "GUYS COME ON LET'S EAT!" Eric came bursting through the door, his loud voice making me jump a little. But while they were busy talking and deciding what to eat, I was trying to figure out what to do. Visit Younghoon and set the record straight, ask Sangyeon what happened for them to all end up in the hospital, or confront Hyunjae about all of the circumstances. Since you were in Hyunjae's room at this very moment you decided on the latter. You slowly opened the closet as soon as you heard the door close. Seeing the boys right outside the room made the adrenaline rush in you. Once again you quickly made your way back to the chair that was by his bed. You sighed heavily, taking his hand in your own. "I'm sorry Hyunjae for this mess. You should've never dated me... I caused this accident, didn't I?" You looked up to see him still asleep before sighing heavily once again. You started to feel yourself getting sleepy, and the next thing you know you are passed out while laying your head on the bed. Little did you know, Hyunjae was fully awake just pretending to be asleep and as soon as you closed your eyes he started stroking your hair softly, eventually making him sleepy and then falling asleep too.

Once you woke up, you went to get up from your seat, but you felt the warmth of his hand around your wrist. "Don't go." His voice was faint, hoarse, and barely audible, but it was just enough for you to be able to hear it. You quickly turned around to see him struggling to sit up. You quickly helped him, not wanting him to struggle "H-Hyunjae..." You choked out, not being able to say much. "I'm okay Y/n. I know this came as a shock but it's alright." He softly stroked your cheek as the tears that were previously being built up finally fell down. Before either of you could say another word the door opened, revealing Chanhee, Sunwoo, Kevin, and Changmin. You quickly stood up, trying to excuse yourself from the room except none of the boys would let you. You looked down in shame, "Listen, I know-" Changmin shoved you as he was walking toward Hyunjae's hospital bed. "Oh sorry, didn't see you there." You could sense the sarcasm of his voice from a mile away. "Changmin! Apologize, right now! I didn't become the leader only for you to treat other people like human trash." Sangyeon was now in a wheelchair with Jacob wheeling him. Jacob was shaking his head in disapproval. "He's right Changmin, apologize to Y/n she did nothing wrong." Changmin was furious, "Nothing wrong?!? She was the one that put you in that god-damn wheelchair Hyung!" Sangyeon sighed, "That was my fault for not looking before crossing a busy road, Changmin. It's far from her fault, now let's just go eat-'' You quickly stood up in shock, "You got hit by a car!?" Kevin stopped you, "Well, not exactly. He was hit by a truck, a cargo truck to be exact." Your jaw dropped to the ground. Then turning to face Sangyeon. "Did you really?" Changmin inhaled sharply, "Are you fucking serious! Y/n, you left years ago with Younghoon without telling us a single word. Then you suddenly showed up saying you had a week in Korea to come to visit us rather than finding out that he was cheating on you only to be left by yourself... Sunwoo should have left you on the street." Sangyeon got up from his wheelchair, making Jacob panic. "CHANGMIN! THIS BEHAVIOR IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE. LEAVE THE ROOM NOW!" You had covered your mouth in shock from everything that had just happened. Jacob brought Sangyeon back into his wheelchair, then took him and Changmin out of the room. Kevin and Chanhee called for the doctor to check on Hyunjae, and finally Sunwoo. He helped you stand up again after you fell down to your knees. "Are you okay?" He asked softly. You shook your head, "I don't know.. I think I should just go. Changmin just proved my point anyways, Hyunjae is better off without me and so is Younghoon plus Sangyeon won't have to worry about this kind of thing happening again at least!" Your broken voice gave away the fact that you were pretending to be okay. “Y/n, you don’t have to pretend in front of me, and you’re all wrong..” You tilted your head at him in confusion, “What do you mean?” He smiled softly at you, “We all care for you and Changmin is just speaking out of frustration. You know that he is never like this but either way just know, that we will support any decision you make.” You nodded, “I know what I’m gonna do.”

Epilogue: You so clearly remember hearing the wedding bells as the small children scream with joy and the clapping of everyone else at the ceremony made your heart swell with happiness. As well as vividly remembering when Hyunjae proposed to you with your mom’s ring, it was a very emotional time not knowing how his kids would feel but he said ‘they’ll love you, I’m sure.’ You knew you made the right decision, even though Hyunjae cheated and had kids with another woman we both knew she was far from the one. Minju was the one that played both Younghoon and Hyunjae at the same time. When she was getting arrested for multiple charges, she confessed that she purposely broke us up just to get me to hate him and get his money. The funny thing is, she was getting Younghoon to be her fucktoy while Hyunjae was her source of income. It all made sense, the note that you found back at the hospital was Younghoon explaining everything he knew. It said that Hyunjae still loved you and was unhappy in his relationship, Minju was playing them both but Hyunjae was so stubborn he couldn’t believe it and also that you deserved to be happy with who you choose to end up with. So even though you managed to choose Hyunjae over Younghoon he was equally as supportive as the rest of the boys saying that we belonged together. His kids were so happy to have me as their new mother, it made me so ecstatic that they were just as happy as Hyunjae to have me back, saying that Minju was just ‘plain evil’ which always made you laugh. You knew that everything fit in place now, after all these years. You were the missing puzzle piece.

[hufflepuffhollander]

metempsychosis: t.h. series (part 2)

a/n | get ready for alll the flashbacks today, kiddos. it’s cute. it’s chaotic. it’s heart wrenching. i’m so in love with this story it’s not even funny. am i allowed to admit that out loud?

synopsis | A young couple whose lives were both lost in a tragic accident are reincarnated as new people. As they collide as strangers in their second lives, they must try to make sense of the innate connection they feel.

cw | reincarnation au. awkward meet-cute fluff, language, very vague allusion to death, flashbacks. 2.9k words. 

Read part 1, join the taglist

Metempsychosis (n.): the supposed transmigration at death of the soul of a human being into a new form of life.

Nobody likes to admit it, but there are forces flurrying around the universe that we just can’t hope to understand. The kind that control fate when humble, kind people are taken from this world too soon by the sloppiness of human nature, one thing that can’t ever truly be accounted for; that give those good souls a second chance at making the world a better place just by being in it. The universe decided it wasn’t their time yet, and in its infinite power sent them back down to earth, to start over, to live again. No, it doesn’t always seem like the universe really has a plan when it conjures its magic. But it seems all too coincidental that they would come to meet again this way, doesn’t it? Being in just the right place at just the right time, maybe—well, this will sound crazy. But maybe it was made to happen this way. 

~

Tom arrived the next day flustered after a long night of overthinking and not enough sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about the artist he’d met, the way just her stare made him weak in the knees. He overslept, rushed into the studio in sweatpants, and to make things worse, he couldn’t recall a single dream. No teeth falling out, no high-speed car chases where you’ve lost control of the wheel...and no angel singing him to sleep. He hadn’t gotten a single new lyric down that the producers had asked him to have finished, and that fucking E string broke again. He was already having the worst day and it was barely 10am.

He flew into the meeting he was supposed to attend at the last possible second, and the door had barely shut behind him when he felt icicles pinpricking his skin. His eyes floated around the room until they landed on a familiar face. It was you again.

The meeting started and ended, neither you nor Tom absorbing a single thing that was said. You couldn’t rip your stares away from each other, speaking in confused, concerned, nonplus silent expressions and barely breaking eye contact for the whole hour. 

You seared into his pupils. Who are you?

He scrunched his eyebrows. Who am I? Who are you?

I know you from somewhere, don’t I?

You do?

I don’t know, do I?

You weren’t needed again on set for another few hours, but you weren’t sure you could wait that long to talk to him, to try to make sense of the appalling amount of deja vu you were experiencing. And what if he left, and you never saw him again? You couldn’t live with all of the unknowns, so you tugged at the strap of his guitar case as he tried to leave the conference room, forcing him to follow you somewhere quieter. Once you were finally alone, you were ready to start firing the interrogation questions until he turned to face you, stare burning a hole through the back of your head.

“Would you-- stop that!”

“Stop what?” Tom looked at you puzzled.

You swallowed hard to keep the butterflies from floating up through your windpipe and out of your mouth. “You- just...looking at me like that!”

He cocked up an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one who won’t stop staring,” he huffed, trying to keep his vision from duplicating. Thankfully, when you blinked hard and looked away for a moment, he was able to ground himself. You had no idea that you were making each other sick out of sheer nerve.

“Look, I just- I felt, like, this really weird vibe yesterday when you helped me with my painting, and it just freaked me out, I- we must know each other, right? You know me from somewhere?”

Tom really got to listen to your voice for the first time then, and it shook him to his core. He could’ve sworn on everything holy that he didn’t know you, he’d never even seen you in passing; he would’ve remembered if he had. But your voice was slick with familiarity, like he’d heard you read him the world’s longest novel three times over. He’d never been so perplexed in his life. 

“Um, hi?” he snapped out of his thought as you waved your hand in front of his face, still waiting for a reply. “Earth to...whoever you are?”

“Uh, it’s- it’s Tom,” his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He stuck his hand out as a formality, but you didn’t take it.

That name. You knew that name. You looked away in your own bubble of thought, smiling and silently laughing at a fond memory.

“Sorry, what’s so funny?” He was secretly glad you hadn’t taken his hand, because he was positive it would’ve been sweaty.

“No, nothing, just your name,” you said, smiling still. “My childhood cat was named Tom.”

“Oh, that’s cute- like, for a tomcat?”

You thought about what he said for a moment. “Uh...no, actually. But that is clever. No, I just, I loved the name. Always have. I don’t know why.” Tom just reflected your small smile. 

“That’s a funny name for a cat.”

1993

{ He wanted a dog his whole life, but his parents would never let him get one, so he told himself every day that he would go to the shelter and get his own the day he moved out. By the time he finally got around to adopting a pet, though, they had moved in together, and she only wanted a cat. So they’d compromised and got a kitten. He was never very good at saying no to her.

“I want to name him something funny, like Socks!” he said.

“No, no, we gotta name him after my Uncle Scott. It would be his birthday today, after all. And he always loved cats.”

“We can’t give our cat a person name, love.”

“Why not?”

“It’s weirdly formal. When was the last time you came across a cat named Kevin? Or a dog named Michael?”

She took the kitten out of his hands and tucked it into her chest defensively, eliciting a small purr from the animal. “I think those are all perfectly fine names, actually.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever get a cat all on your own, you can give it a weird, old man name. But we’re not naming our kitten Scott.”

“Agree to disagree.”

They’d landed on the name Snickers, but she always called him Scottie when nobody was around. }

Tom spoke again. “Well, what do I call you?”

“You don’t already know my name?”

“I promise you that I really, really don’t know who you are,” he pleaded.

“It’s y/n,” you respond. But he just wanted you to keep talking. Not only did your voice sound like butter to him, but you had to be the most unbelievably beautiful person he’d ever seen. “...Are you okay?”

He realized a second later that he had forgotten to reply yet again, and he racked his brain frantically trying to think of something to keep the conversation going.

“So you’re doing the paint?” 

“What?”

He internally smacked himself. “Sorry, like, you’re an artist, right?”

You gave him a weary smile, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Um, yeah, that’s what they call me.”

“Cool.”

You motioned to the guitar slung around his back. “Singer?”

“No. Well...yeah, kinda,” he gave you a nervous glance as he tried to stammer out a complete thought, his chest feeling immersed in flames. “I write the songs- I’m a lyricist. I sing them, but not really out loud. I’m the voice behind the voice, I guess.”

Your eyes flicked up to his mess of curls, finding the state of complete abandon they were in almost endearing. “Cool.”

Just then, Cameron called out, beckoning you into another meeting. You gave Tom a half smile. “I, uh, have to go.” As you turned around and hurried away, you weren’t sure if the sudden loss of nerve stimulation was something to be celebrated or missed. You hadn’t gotten any questions answered, but you just couldn’t think straight when your whole body felt as if it had been dunked in an ice bath.

Tom sat and brooded over his notepad for hours, writing a line and crossing it out, playing a riff on his guitar and cursing at the broken string. His mind was completely blank. This had never happened to him before, and it couldn’t when he was under as much pressure to perform as he was. After a frustrating and uneventful brainstorming session, he packed up his stuff and followed the long way out of the studio so he could pass by where he thought you might be, one more time, just in case you were still there.

You saw him appear as you walked across a ledge, and tripped over a wire, falling down. He rushed over to help you up, and unfortunately, you really did need the assistance. 

“Hey, hey, you okay?” He leaned down to extend an arm, and you gratefully rested your hand on his jacket sleeve to pull yourself up. His other hand reached for your free one, and no sooner had his skin touched yours did you feel a shooting pain at the point of contact.

“What the-” you pulled your arm back quickly, searching your hand for an injury, but there was nothing there. “What was that?”

Tom was staring at his own palm, flexing his fingers back and forth in confusion.

“Are you covered in static electricity or something?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course not,” you were visibly anxious now, waving his hand away as you tried standing on your own. But without your cane, that godforsaken cane, you still needed his help. You braced yourself as you took his hand, and when you went to look into his eyes again, they looked hazy- almost splotched with dots of red and blue. 

He looked at you as you rose to his eye level and felt the interminable urge to wrap you up in his arms and hold you, like you were a long lost friend he hadn’t seen in years. But all he did was graze your wrist with his fingertips as you pulled away from his grip, and was confused when he didn’t feel a small raised bump on top of your wrist bone. At that thought, Tom almost lost his own footing. Why did he expect to feel something there?

{ She was wrestled to the ground on her back, each arm pinned on the floor by one of his. Lost in a fit of giggles, she couldn’t escape his grip, and stuck her tongue out at him. “This still doesn’t mean you win.”

He rolled his eyes and let his body weight drop onto hers so he could plant a gravity-inspired kiss on her lips, staying there as she slinked her tiny arms around his torso.

“Ouch, babe, your bracelet,” he said, wincing as it dug itself into his shoulder blade.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

“Why do you always wear that thing? We’re in pajamas and nobody here is expecting you to be dressed up,” he asked, propping himself up on one arm and moving to rest beside her on the shaggy carpet. She shifted the smooth metal around her wrist nervously.

“Oh, well...it covers up this birthmark I have,” she said, clamping the jewelry tighter.

“What birthmark?”

“See? The bracelet is doing its job,” she chuckled.

“Darling, let me see it.” He slid her hand away and unclasped the bangle to reveal a small, dark raised bump right where her wrist met her hand. She looked away in disgust.

“I hate that thing. I always have. It reminds me of a bug.”

He looked at her with his eyes full of concern at her discomfort, and raised her arm to his mouth, lightly kissing her wrist. She stared at him in awe.

“Well, I think it’s beautiful.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s part of you, and I signed up for the whole package, remember? Bugs and all.” 

She sent him a loving look. “What cheesy rom-com did you waltz out of, huh?” }

You both stood still, unsure of how to end the encounter. But neither of you were ready to simply let go of the ever-confusing mystery that was the nature of your relationship. You didn’t think you could focus on anything other than the buzz in your brain in that moment, and Tom caught on.

“Are you feeling alright, y/n?”

You didn’t feel the need to lie. “No, not really. I feel dizzy. But I need to drive home.” 

Tom immediately felt the need to take care of you, stowing away that feeling to break down and process later. “I can take you.”

You looked up at him disconcertingly. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll get my assistant to help...” you did a full 360 looking for Cameron, but he was nowhere to be found. God damnit.

Tom leaned down to take your supply bag from your hands. “Please, it’s really not a big deal. You shouldn’t be driving if you feel like this.”

You reluctantly released your grip on your bag and followed him to his car. As he pulled out onto the road and the darkness was only being skewered by the choppy headlights, you started to feel a panic well up inside of you. Your eyes darted around the interior, looking at the radio, the dashboard, the blinking check engine light, and the heartbeat in your chest became palpable. You felt flighty, like something bad was about to happen. Of course, you’d never been in Tom’s car or seen any part of the inside, but you could feel something in its air. And it creeped you out to no end. You sat rigidly in your seat, hands clasped tightly together, and pressed them into each other hard every time someone’s high beams careened past you on the other side of the highway. Tom looked at you each time, hearing your subtle gasps. 

“Nervous passenger?”

“Sorry, I just don’t like driving at night,” you stuttered out. You’d always been inexplicably petrified of it.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time Tom pulled into your driveway, and you thanked him, shot out of the car and rushed inside all in one breath. You leaned hard against your front door as you closed it, infinitely confused and disturbed by the unchecked waves of fear rolling over your body. 

1995

{ They sang their hearts out to the newest Mariah Carey hit that came on the radio, paying little attention to the cars around them. It was a cold evening, the car had just warmed up, and clearly, so had their vocal cords.

“I’m so excited for tonight, love,” he said, reaching to lay a hand on her thigh, which she laid her own on top of. “It will be so nice to see all of our friends again after such a nasty cold season.”

The car dinged and made them both look up, seeing an orange flash coming from the dashboard.

“Shit, the check engine light,” he muttered, hoping she hadn’t seen it. She’d been nagging him for weeks to take the car in for a steering fluid change, and he had a nasty habit of putting it off.

“I told you to get that fixed weeks ago.”

“I know, I know. I’ll get it done this weekend.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to be driving over black ice without a properly working car, babe?” She was visibly annoyed. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, we’ll be just fine. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He pushed the thought out of his mind as they arrived safely to the party, and with a sigh of relief, she forgot all about it, too. 

Of course, they hadn’t known what fate was waiting for them on the ride back home. }

No less than two minutes later, you had barely composed yourself when you heard a knock on the door. You opened it to find an embarrassed Tom at the entryway.

“It seems that I ran over a nail on my way here, my tire’s gone completely flat.” He averted his eyes from your gaze. “Mind if I stay in here til the tow truck shows up?”

You moved aside to let him pass through, really wanting nothing more than just to lie down and rest. But the rush of blood you felt to your head as he grazed by awoke your senses; his throat went dry as he stepped through the air around you. You tried to push the preeminent, sleepy visions of flashing lights out of your brain and watched him settle in on your couch in a very idiosyncratic way; curling up all the way to the right side, tucking his left leg under him, and placing a pillow on his lap.

Why did you know he would do that?

[ninyard]

more stefan/andrew au? the last one was fucking amazing

(following on from pt 2 kinda following canon a lil bit but imagining their relationship panning out earlier than it did in the series? Fab)

Part 1 / part 2

-

“Andrew?” Neil was woken up by Seth’s pissed-off, tired moan. “Get the fuck out of here, you fuckin’ freak.” Neil heard the rustling of covers and Andrew’s footsteps coming into the room. “Yo, hey, are you deaf?!” It’d been a couple days since the incident in Columbia, and Andrew and Neil hadn’t really spoken since then. Coach had tried to get them to make up when Neil came back to his apartment, but his attempts futile. They’d only had a short conversation before Andrew got bored and left. All Neil got from Andrew’s lot since then was hostility and cold shoulders. Now, in the middle of the night, Andrew was breaking into the room of the three people he actively seemed to hate the most. Neil pretended to sleep, until he felt weight on the rungs of the ladder on his bed, and hands on the back of his T-shirt. Andrew practically pulled him off the bed, immediately waking him up from any bit of sleep he had left in him.

“Car. Ten minutes.” Andrew didn’t lower his voice for Neil’s half-asleep roommates. “I don’t like waiting.”

“I don’t care.” Neil retorted back in a hushed voice. “Leave me alone and let me sleep.” Andrew got real close to Neil’s face. The dim light of the moon outside the window showed Andrew unsmiling face. He was presumably sober, and Andrew sober was a much scarier sight than him being medicated and violent.

“Ten minutes.” He repeated again, matching Neil’s volume, hazel eyes burning a hole through Neil’s natural blue. Andrew put a finger to his lips and switched to German. “This is the only chance you’ll get.”

Neil had almost forgotten he’d spoken to Andrew in German in Coach’s apartment. He was startled at the sudden language change, and obliged when Andrew finally left the room. He got dressed underneath his covers as best he could, and decided against putting in his contacts, before jumping down off the top bunk.

“Bring that monster around here one more time and you’re moving out.” Seth groaned, but fully meant what he said. He turned around to face the wall and through the muffle of a pillow, Neil heard him say, “Now fuck off.” Matt, sleeping like a rock, was snoring on the other side of the room, totally unphased and undisturbed by Andrew’s swift entrance and exit.

Andrew was alone at his car when Neil pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands in a desperate attempt to stay warm, the door of the dorm building shutting behind him. It was freezing outside, and Neil hadn’t realised it was literally the middle of the night until he saw a clock in the hallway reading an early 3:54am. The wind blew leaves across the parking lot with a whistle and a rustle, the dry fall leaves swirling around like tiny twisters on the tarmac. The campus was silent, on the night of a weekday, so Neil didn’t expect anyone to be out. Yet here Andrew was, leaning on the bonnet of his car with a cigarette between his lips, smoke quickly disappearing in the biting wind.

“You never answered my question on our little night out.” He spoke through the smoke, as Neil approached closer. “We’re going for a drive.”

“Do you ever sleep?” Neil’s voice was groggy from his own interrupted sleep. Andrew didn’t answer, instead flicking away his cigarette and sitting into the drivers seat. Neil walked around to the passenger side and sat in. When he tried to warm his hands on the hot air Andrew had blowing through the air-con, Andrew turned the heat off. Neil was sure if Andrew was medicated he would’ve laughed, but he instead opted for watching the road as they drove in silence. Neil sat back and tried his best not to fall asleep. His head bumped about on the headrest as they drove, and every time his eyes started to close, his sleep cycle begging him to come back to rest, Andrew would snap his fingers in his face or lay a punch down on his thigh. After a short drive, they pulled up into the empty lot of some National Park Neil didn’t know the name of. He was too tired to pay attention to the signs, but figured Andrew wouldn’t bring him to a park to kill him or let him go. Andrew was a man of truth when he wanted to be; He wanted to know why he was on the run and Neil didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Why are we here?” Neil asked at the same time Andrew said “What brought a runaway to Oakland?”They both paused for a moment, but Neil knew Andrew wasn’t going to answer his question until Neil answered his.

“It was the first place she wanted to stop.” Neil spoke through a yawn. “The others before there made her too paranoid. It was the first time she felt like she could close her eyes and actually sleep without feeling like she was…” He thought about his words for a moment. The last conversation they’d had, he told him he was on the run, but Andrew already knew that. Neil thought he’d got through to him by giving him half-honesty, telling him his parents were dead. He never brought up Riko, or his family, instead choosing the option of trying to appeal to Andrew’s inner child, who remembered Stefan. It was a stupid choice, and Neil knew that the second he chose it. “She could sleep without feeling like she had a target on her back.”

“Did you kill her?” Andrew said it so casually it felt like murder was something so normal, like eating lunch or going for a walk. Like asking if he killed his mother was just like asking if he liked the taste of garlic, or if he was having a good day.

“No,” Neil answered. He’d been thinking about what he would tell Andrew about his life since he seen him in Arizona. Who was he before Oakland? Where did they go? Who was he running from? “Riko’s family did.”

And suddenly Andrew was interested. His face was a mixture of disbelief and boredom. Neil told him his manufactured version of the story; that his parents were killed by the Moriyama family, and that they’d been on the run since the execution of his Father. He kept out the part about the Butcher of Baltimore, or the fact that he was actually still alive, but Andrew’s mind was at work as Neil told the story. If he didn’t look awake before, he did now. Neil spoke for an hour, maybe less, maybe more, flowing from story to anecdote to answering questions that Andrew slipped in whenever he wanted. Neil answered it all with mostly-truths, redacting the stuff Andrew simply didn’t need to know. Neil was a runaway, his family were in some bad business, but Neil was the only one left.

“I really didn’t think you could get any more stupid, yet I am constantly surprised.” Andrew tutted as he shook a cigarette out of the packet, into his hand. He rolled down the window on his side and smoked out of it, seemingly unbothered by the wind that just blew the smoke back into his face. “You knew who I was, but you knew Kevin too? How forgetful do you think people are?”

“I don’t know,” Neil told him honestly. “I just- We were so young. I met Kevin years before I met you. I just didn’t think I was important to anyone.” Andrew laughed a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. It was the sound of dismissal, as though he didn’t believe a word that spilled from Neil’s tired lips. “I didn’t think I’d ever be particularly memorable or mean anything to anyone. That was the most important thing to my mom.”

“What, being unimportant?” Andrew didn’t look at Neil as he spoke.

“Being forgettable.” Neil sighed, thinking about his mother’s words that had been drilled into his head. If you’re too interesting, you’re asking to be killed. Be boring. Be normal. Be forgettable. “You fucked that up for me.”

“See, you keep blaming me,” Andrew shook his head as he took a drag from the cigarette that had been half-smoked by the wind. “I didn’t fuck up your life, Abagnale, you did.” Neil didn’t get the reference, but he didn’t ask either.

“I don’t mean it’s your fault. You didn’t do anything,” Neil tried correcting himself. “I couldn’t help it when I was around you. And all I could do every second of my days after Oakland was blame you because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I let you in. Everything I learned, everything I’d done, you came along and turned the place upside down because I just had to know you. I had to.”

“Why?” Andrew looked at him with that same uninterested look he usually had, when a medically-induced smile wasn’t spread across his cheeks. “What made me any different to the hundreds of other kids I’m sure you met on your travels, hmm?”

“You were real.” Andrew scoffed. Neil frowned at that and shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been through this. Don’t waste my time getting to know me if you just want me to run. You want me to get lost in the park, is it? Is that why you brought me here?”

“Nothing better than some honesty with a view.” Andrew tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “How do you expect me to trust you when you’ve spent your whole life a liar? Be mad if you want, but I’m much less gullible now, you see. Once a liar, always a liar.” Neil sent Andrew a look as he hovered his hand over Andrew’s. When he just stared at it, Neil brought Andrew’s hand up to his collarbone where was a small, raised, pink scar sitting just above it.

“The motels phone.” Neil spoke quietly, as if Mary would hear, as if she was waiting to jump out from behind the car to take him and beat him again for letting his guard down, for being unforgettable. “It was the first thing she could grab when we got into our room. I never told her your name, and she beat me harder for it. I never wanted to let her anger ruin your name.” Andrew dropped his hand from Neil’s grip.

“Pretty unintelligent to take hits for someone you thought you’d never see again.”

Then Neil said, “I knew I’d never forget you.” Andrew tensed up at the almost-promise, and the memories came flooding back for Neil like a tsunami sweeping over every other thought he had. “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.” Neil almost reached out to touch Andrew before he remembered the boundary Andrew had set that night in Columbia. Neil didn’t have a right to touch him anymore, and he knew Andrew noticed as Neil’s hand lifted and then hesitantly fell. “Tell me something I don’t know about this Andrew. I’ve told you my life, tell me yours.” He gestured to Andrew, sat across from him with an almost-frown on his face and a thinking mind hard at work.

“This Andrew doesn’t give a shit about what answers you think you deserve.” He looked Neil up and down. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Why doesn’t Nicky know you’re gay?” Neil asked, instead of waiting for him to come up with something himself, it was much easier to get honesty from Andrew by prompting him. Neil watched as his jaw tensed for a second, thinking about the answer.

“Nicky is too involved in being the gay cousin to un-assume.” Andrew barely lifted his shoulders in the form of a shrug. “He hasn’t asked.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“I don’t ‘come out’,” He brushed off the thought with the flick of his wrist and a roll of his eyes. “I don’t fuck women in my spare time. Who cares?”

“Yeah, sure, but-” Neil had started to speak when Andrew cut across.

“At least I’m out to myself,” He nodded towards him. “You, on the other hand? Was it just Stefan who was into it or is the unnamed you just in denial?”

“I’m not, like…” Neil hated the sexuality question. It was confusing and messy and Andrew and Andrew and Andrew. “There was no one after you. It’s only been you.”

“By choice or by mothers hands?”

“Neither. Both?” He wasn’t sure how to answer. “The foxes are the first people I’ve let get somewhat close since then. That’s the truth. I haven’t wanted to. I’m just not interested in anyone.” The except for you part was silent, but he knew Andrew had somewhat heard it when he sat back, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the door, as he took a deep breath that he tried to hide. Neil wasn’t even sure he was still into Andrew like that, because they were so young, after all. Andrew was still experimenting, and they never spoke about those kinds of feelings. They were friends who kissed each other because they wanted to know what it felt like. They kissed each other because maybe they thought they liked it. Maybe they’d have to do it again just to be sure. But that was so long ago, and so much had changed. Neil had had a crush on that Andrew, but this one? He wasn’t so sure. This one was harsh and mean, angry and unmoving. This one had been hard-boiled by life and wasn’t going to crack any time soon. He didn’t know if he felt things anymore. He didn’t know if Andrew was capable of a crush, or a kiss, or a simple, electric touch of fingers to skin.

Without a word, Andrew had switched on the ignition and idled the engine for a moment before pulling out and starting on the drive back to campus. Neil didn’t say anything else, he only rested his head on the window and watched as the morning sun slowly lit up the night sky, the dark navy blue taking over the black sky so slowly it was hardly noticeable.

He had pulled into his usual parking spot not long later, still not looking at Neil or speaking at all. He stayed still in the drivers seat after switching the engine off. Neil took that as his cue to leave. Matching Andrew’s silent treatment, he got up and shut the door without a word. Andrew had rolled down his window again, another cigarette already stuck between his lips. He watched as Neil walked around the car before he tapped the outside of his door twice to catch his attention. Neil spoke before he could.

“Give me a chance.” The wind blew his hair off his face, reminding him how cold it was, and why he should’ve worn a jacket. “Let me stay. I don’t have anything else.”

“Don’t be fooled into thinking I trust you.” He hung his hand out the window finally looking Neil in the eyes again. “It’s a matter of time before your egg timer runs out. Make use of it while you can.”

“I’ll bury Stefan forever, if you ask.” Neil offered in payment for the sudden change of heart in letting him stay, in cleaning his hands of the idea that Neil was after Kevin, or that he was a threat. “Say the word and we start fresh from today.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew took a long drag, one that felt like it was centuries long, like the sun would be up by the time he finished. He blew it out and raised his hands. “Kill what wasn’t real. Prove to me what was.”

Neil wasn’t sure what that invitation meant, but he didn’t ask Andrew to keep speaking. When they broke eye contact, he knew then Andrew wanted him to leave. Neil didn’t look back, heart racing, practically ready to burst out of his chest by the time he reached his dorm room. He opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb his peacefully sleeping roommates, and he crawled back into bed to try get some sleep before the practice scheduled for the morning. Instead of counting sheep, battling restlessness like a fight for his life, he thought of Stefan. He thought of the heart of Nathaniel that had gotten wrapped up in his blond hair and tiny frame. Neil fell asleep thinking about who he used to be, and what parts of that were real. What parts could he keep? His mind spent its last morsels of energy on dissecting Neil Josten, to make him feel a little more real.

The next time they saw each other outside of practice was when Kevin started coming to find him late at night to go to the court and practice together. Neil realised quickly he was going to become a night owl as a Fox, but it still took him a while to adjust to the late nights and early starts. But him and Andrew kept their distance; they didn’t speak if they didn’t have to, and their conversations were kept to a line or two each. They played their first match of the season, and Andrew had sent out shots for Neil like they were capable of working together. Then there was Kathy Ferdinand’s show, at which Andrew had hands all over him, holding him back from killing Riko on live TV. He had made a deal to protect Kevin, and then he was being psychically held back from doing so. Neil did what he couldn’t, and stood up to Riko, a conscious effort to gain his trust, to prove he was on the side of the foxes. Then there was that touch, that simple, light, barely-there touch, and Neil knew he’d won. He’d earned Andrew’s trust, at least for a moment, but that was all that mattered.

When Andrew ever-so-kindly reminded Neil later that Riko would find out about him, the original “Neil”, as easily as he’d strolled onto that stage to sit across from Kevin, there was no choice but to run. He couldn’t imagine any other option. His entire body went into fight or flight, and he struggled to sit still as Andrew held his collar and told him to stay.

“Why?” Neil asked, throat dry, hands shaking, after Andrew offered him protection for the year if he promised to stay. It was funny to imagine, as if there was anything he could do against the actual, guns-blazing, internationally dominating mafia. “Why would you help me?” Andrew laughed, and just about caressed Neil’s jaw in the most non-affectionate way possible. Neil felt his touch leave blood on his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Andrew was manic, and didn’t care. He looked as if he didn’t even feel the pain of a glass-shattering punch, and was actively enjoying the chaos that the morning had brought with it.

Andrew didn’t give him any sort of an answer until later that night, when he stepped into Neil’s space and told him to remember the feeling; Neil couldn’t run anymore. He had given his word to Andrew that he would stay, and as much as he had started to hate the Present-Day-Andrew-Minyard, he trusted him as a man of his word. Neil had killed the parts of Stefan that were untrue; all that was left was the real emotion he felt when he looked at Andrew. He was an asshole, but he was Andrew, and Neil trusted this five foot blond boy with his life. Perhaps it was crazy, perhaps he was officially, undeniable, finally signing his name on his death wish, ticking down the hours until his past caught up. Whereas running was his old line of defence, his current one was Andrew. Andrew was an unlit fire suddenly gaining embers, and Neil knew it was dangerous to let that fire grow. Especially when Andrew leaned over in Eden’s, crackers on his tongue, a drink in his hands, and whispered in German;

“Mommy’s not here to hurt you anymore.” Neil snapped his gaze towards Andrew, who was coming up on his high, speaking to Neil but watching the crowd on the dancefloor. His breath at Neil’s ear sent shivers up his spine, goosebumps on his arms. “My hands are open to have your back. Give it to me this time.���

[hoboal87]

Elastic Heart Chapter Fourteen

Title : Elastic Heart - Trials

Characters : Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, (background Y/N and Cordelia Y/L/N)

Pairing(s) : Sam x Reader

Summary : Sam and Dean work to complete the final Hell Trial.

Word Count : 6.4k

Warnings : cursing, show-level violence, angst, self-loathing, suicidal ideation, cliff-hanger ending

A/N : Series is mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. For the purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

A/N 2 : This chapter uses dialogue from episode 8x23 "Sacrifice"

beta'd by @deanwinchesterswitch

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Read Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen - Trials

Sam’s POV

Two days later, we meet Crowley in a junkyard; it takes every ounce of my willpower not to beat him to a pulp. I wanted to leave hex bags in Y/N’s apartment, but Dean insisted the anti-possession charms would be enough. We should’ve known that she wasn’t going to be safe, but when Crowley started going after people we saved, Cas had convinced us that Jody was next.

“It’s simple, really,” Crowley says, gesturing to the contract. “You stop the Trials and hand over the Demon tablet. I’ll leave your precious Y/N and Cordelia alone, and you’ll have the Angel tablet.” Dean takes a step closer, grabbing the scroll. “Oh, no, Squirrel, Moose is the one doing the trials; he’s the one who’s going to sign.”

“Not until I read the fine print,” Dean snaps back.

“I’ll sign it,” I mumble as I take a step closer, grabbing the long scroll.

“You wanted me here; I’m here.”

“What’s this, boys? Lovers quarrel?”

“Shut it, Crowley,” Dean barks. “I’m not gonna let him screw us over again.”

“That hurts, Squirrel,” he mocks us. “Now, if you're satisfied with the terms of the contract, let’s have the big galoot sign it, shall we?”

Dean is only inches away from Crowley, and as soon as he thinks I’ve started to sign, the click of the handcuffs wipes the smirk off of Crowley’s face.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Demonic handcuffs, jackass,” Dean gestures down the handcuffs. “These are going to keep you from smoking out, flicking out, teleporting. Oh, and no deal. Basically,” Dean’s fist connects to Crowley’s jaw, “you’re our bitch.”

“Fine,” Crowley throws his own punch, and I can see a faint smile on Dean’s face. “You’ve saddled yourself to the wrong bull, mate.”

“I can go all day, you know why? ‘Cause damn it feels good. Get used to it, douche, cause your demon ass is about to become a mortal ass.”

“What’s he on about?” Crowley’s eyes dart to me, a look of confusion and panic as I take pleasure in telling him what’s about to come.

“It’s you, Crowley. You’re the third Trial.”

Kevin is pacing in the library when we return to the bunker, Crowley blindfolded and gagged. Dean walks him down to 7B, and Kevin is nearly having a panic attack when his eyes land on Crowley.

“What is he doing here?” Kevin screams, “Why? Why did you bring him back?”

“Kevin, listen. Until we can figure out how to cure him, we need to keep him here. We can’t let him go.” I can see the tears brimming in his eyes. “The faster we can figure out the cure, the faster we can make him pay for all the evil shit he's done.”

Kevin and I have our noses buried in books when Dean returns from the dungeon. I can still hear Y/N/N’s voice in my head, screaming out for help, Crowley’s words torturing both of us. Every choice you made drove you further away from Y/N.

“Have you heard from Cas?” Dean asks as he sits down with three beers in his hands.

I pull out my phone, hoping that Y/N/N will return my calls, she’s shutting me out, and I can’t blame her. I should’ve shown her how to protect herself and Corie. All the symbols she needed were on the sheet of paper that Corie had drawn on the day she left the hospital. Any one of those could have protected her from Crowley’s attack. Would she ever forgive me for putting her in that situation, one that could have so easily been prevented? Crowley was going to pay for everything he’d ever done.

“Sam,” Dean’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and when I look up, I can see a questioning look etched on his face. “Cas?”

“Uh, no,” I mumble as I put my phone back into my pocket. We needed to find a cure and quick; it was the only way to get back to Y/N/N and Corie.

Hours later, Kevin and I are surrounded by a mountain of books, pouring through the lore looking for anything that may tell us how to cure a demon. Dean’s asleep on the table, softly snoring when Cas enters the bunker. It’s been over a week since we’d seen him, stationing him with Jody after Crowley killed Sarah, Cas insisting that Naomi and the other angels were watching over Y/N/N and Corie.

Dean jolts awake when Kevin drops another large set of books on the library table, grumbling about ‘first decent sleep in days,’ as he makes his way out of the library. I give Cas a tight-lipped smile, and he nods; there is something off about him. Usually, I can’t read his face, but today, he seems to be hiding something. Dean meets Cas in the war room, and I can hear hushed whispering between them. I run my hands through my hair as I pull another book in front of me, but I can’t focus on the text, every line bleeding into the next. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean’s body stiffen; that can’t be good. I leave Kevin, instructing him to keep searching as I join Dean and Cas.

“What do you mean, ‘she’s done,’ what the hell is that supposed to mean, Cas?” Dean’s fingers are pinched at the bridge of his nose as Cas stands in front of him.

“Y/N feels that she and Cordelia’s safety was put in jeopardy and that we allowed Crowley to attack her in her home.”

“You told her we didn’t know, right?” Dean huffs. “That we wouldn’t’ve let Crowley come anywhere near them if we thought–”

“I told her that we were assured that she was safe. Y/N didn’t care for my answer. I don’t know how Crowley tracked her down.”

“‘Tracked her down?’ Cas, are you saying that Y/N and Corie left Weldon?” I thought Crowley was fucking with me. Y/N wouldn’t have moved without telling us; she promised not to run away.

“I gave Y/N my word that I would not-”

“Cas, if they left Weldon, we need to know. If they’re gone, then that means that they don’t have any type of protection,” I argue. I knew we should have done something more than leaving them the necklaces. “We can’t protect them if we don’t know where they are.”

“Y/N and Cordelia have left Weldon.”

“Fuck, Cas!” I want to hit something, someone. “You weren’t even going to tell us, were you?”

“Sammy-”

“No, tell me. You were going to let Y/N and Corie just drop off the face of the earth and not say anything?” My head is spinning. She’d made good on her threat; she took Corie and ran. “Why?”

“I do not believe Y/N's intent was to hide,” Cas says cautiously. “If Sam had kept in contact-”

“Are you saying that this is my fault?” I roll my shoulders, standing up to my full height. “Crowley’s attack is on me?”

“I am merely suggesting-”

“Y/N wanted space,” Dean clenches his jaw, “so we gave her some fuckin’ space. You had one job, Cas, and that was to keep an eye on her and make sure that she and Cordy were safe.”

“I was watching her, Dean,” Cas sighs. “Ever since the accident-”

“Cas,” Dean snaps. “If you were protecting her like we’d ask you to, then we could’ve stopped Crowley from ever walking into her house, but you insisted that no demon knew about either of them.”

“I have it on good authority that Crowley wasn’t made aware of Cordelia’s existence until recently.” Cas shifts his body towards me. “From best we can tell, he had a spy in that hospital. You don’t think that every demon under Crowley’s command doesn’t know who you are the second they lay eyes on you? Anyone working for him could have connected the dots.”

“So, it is my fault,” I murmur, moving backward before the back of my legs hit the map table, and I slump back against it. “All this, it’s my fault.”

“Sammy, you can’t think like that,” Dean rubs his hand down his face before turning his attention to Cas, his frustration with him becoming more apparent. “What if another demon tries to go after them, Cas? What’ll Y/N do then?”

“I warded her home against everything. She’s safe now.”

“How’s Y/N/N?” I don’t know why it takes me so long to ask such an obvious question, how it wasn’t the first thing out of my mouth when Cas walked through the door. My eyes lock on my hands, picking at a nail, unable to focus on anything else. “Is she okay? What about Corie?”

“Cordelia was not in the house. I offered to heal Y/N, but she refused to let me. She was upset when I left her.”

“What did Crowley do to her?”

“The psychological damage inflicted on her is more my concern,” Cas explains.

Crowley had tortured us all with his words. He twisted everything that had happened over the last ten years, things I hadn’t had the chance to tell her about. I would’ve told her about it all eventually, explained why I didn’t try to come back sooner. I wanted to, desperately, but I felt undeserving of her love. Y/N/N was one of the few good things that I had in my life, and I couldn’t let my uncleanliness taint her innocence. When Kevin first deciphered the Trials, and I accidentally completed the first one, Y/N/N became my light at the end of the tunnel. She and Corie deserve a life of peace. I have to do whatever I can to make the world a safer place for them. Once I finished the trials, I would’ve told her everything, hoping that she would be able to forgive me.

“I wouldn’t have allowed any true harm to come to either of them, Sam.” Cas closes the space between us and rests his hand on my shoulder. “As soon as I was sure Jody was safe, I went to Y/N; she prayed many times.”

“She prayed to you?” I turn slightly to face Cas, unsure if I’m hearing him correctly. I had told both Y/N/N and Corie to call on him if they ever needed anything. When Crowley was with her, I kept hoping that I would hear Cas intervening at some point. When I didn’t, I figured that Y/N/N had forgotten my words, but if she prayed, why didn’t he stop it? “Y/N/N, she prayed, and you still didn’t do anything?” Cas’ eyes dart between Dean and me, and I feel as though I’m about to explode with rage. “You told us that if either one of them prayed, you would go to them. That was your job, Cas, not wait around to see what would happen!”

“If I intervened sooner-” I can’t listen to anything else Cas has to say; I move away from the table and am headed towards 7B before I even realize it.

Crowley is cuffed and chained down in the middle of the devil’s trap; a smug smile creeps over his face when I lock the door behind me.

“I was hoping you’d join me, Moose,” he taunts. “What? No Squirrel? Oh, this will be fun.”

I close the distance in just a few steps, my fist connecting with Crowley’s jaw. He laughs dryly as I pull back and throw another punch, this time to his stomach. I need to do something that’ll make him hurt, make him pay for everything he’s done. Crowley doesn’t flinch, letting me hit him over and over again. I can hear pounding on the door as I swing again, Dean’s voice calling out, but I can’t stop, I won’t stop.

My knuckles are bloody and raw when I feel arms wrap around me, pulling me away from Crowley. I struggle against the powerful grip as Cas drags me back like I am a small child. Dean appears in front of me, yelling at me to calm down, but his voice is a distant echo, as my focus is still on Crowley.

I relax for a moment, and Cas loosens his grip, and I shove him off me. Dean tries to stop me, but I knock him to the floor. A glint of silver catches my eye, and before I can even process a thought, I snatch the weapon from the table. Crowley chuckles as I press the edge of the angel blade against his throat.

“You threaten my daughter? The mother of my daughter? And what? You’re going to sit here and laugh about it?” I growl, slowly raking the blade across his neck, watching as blood seeps out.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Crowley’s lips curl into a grin. “She was ready to do anything to get me to leave her and the little one alone, anything, Moose.”

“Don’t listen to him, Sam,” Dean grunts from behind me.

“And she would’ve done it. She put on a brave face, but she was willing, Sam. She knew you weren’t going to save her. Just another person you’ve let down, eh Sasquatch?”

“Shut up; you’re lying.” I tower over him, putting more pressure on the knife.

“I guess we’ll never know, will we, Samantha? Shall I tell you the things I plan to do to little Cordelia?”

“Sam,” Dean grabs my arm firmly, “he wants you angry; he doesn’t want you to complete the Trial,” he rationalizes. “You kill him now, and everything we’ve been working for the last few months goes down the drain. We’ve come too far to stop now.”

“He deserves to die,” I grunt as Dean pulls me away from Crowley. “For everything, not just Y/N/N and Corie. All the shit he’s done since we’ve known him, Purgatory, Leviathans, Tommy, Sarah, Samuel, holding Bobby’s soul in Hell. He should pay for it. For all of it.”

“He will, Sam. When we’re done, he’ll no longer be the King of Hell; he’ll be a regular person. But you have to finish this last Trial, Sammy. That’s how we make him pay.”

“What do we do?”

It takes several long days of research, but we finally learn how to complete the third trial. Dean, Kevin, and I are stunned into silence as we listen to the recording of Father Thompson and Peter Kent, a man possessed who then killed his children. One dose of purified blood every eight hours, followed by the final exorcism, Peter Kent was no longer a demon; he was human again. I read through Father Thompson’s notes. We could do this; all we need is the consecrated ground.

We find an abandoned church less than an hour away from the Bunker. It’s in the middle of nowhere; it’s the perfect place to complete the Trial. Crowley stays locked inside the trunk of the Impala as we prepare the church. Dean makes a large Devil’s Trap while I read over the Enochian text, committing it to memory. Once we are both satisfied that the church has enough warding, Dean marches Crowley in, tying him tightly in a chair in the center of the room.

Crowley begins to taunt me again, and I leave the church under the guise of gathering supplies out of the Impala.

“I was thinkin’,” Dean says as he walks closer to meet me at the trunk, “maybe you should give Y/N a call.” Dean closes the trunk. “It’s been months, man.”

“No,” it pains me to say it, “I can’t.”

“Just try. Tell her you’re sorry for everything, and when all this is over, you want to be with her.”

“Y/N/N won’t answer,” I sigh. “You heard Cas. She wants nothing to do with me anymore. Whatever chance I still had with her went flying out the window the second Crowley showed up at her house.”

“C’mon, man. You had no way of knowing–”

“That’s the point, Dean!” I shout. “I should’ve known, we both should’ve known! We– I left her, defenseless; didn’t even show her how to make a fuckin’ Devil’s Trap.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I didn’t show her how to test anyone around her. Wherever she is, she could be surrounded by Crowley’s fuckin’ minions, and she wouldn’t even know it, Y/N/N could still be in danger.”

“Cas warded her house,” Dean offers, “she’s safe.”

“We both know that isn’t true, Dean,” I try and fight back the tears that press at my eyes. “As long as Crowley’s around, Y/N and Corie won’t be safe. He’ll find some way to use them against us.”

“Sammy.”

“Y/N didn’t ask for this life, Dean. She doesn’t want a life full of demons, monsters, angels. She just wants a normal, safe life, and she had it before we took that case. From the second we stepped foot back in Weldon, we put Y/N/N and Corie in danger.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself, Sam,” Dean argues.

“I’m gonna make sure she gets the life she’s always wanted, even if it doesn’t include me.” Dean’s eyebrows furrow, and his forehead wrinkles. “When we’re done,” I sniff, wiping away the tears that escaped, and clear my throat. “I’m gonna get Cas to erase their memories.”

Dean’s eyes narrow as soon as my words leave me; shock and anger quickly replace his previous confusion. I realize my mistake immediately; Dean would never let me or Cas do such a thing.

“No,” he says firmly. “You’re not going to do that to Y/N and Cordy.”

“So Cas can erase Lisa and Ben’s memories–”

“That was different,” Dean runs his hands over his face, and I know I’ve hit a nerve with him. “Y/N and Cordy, they’re your family, our family. I know you, Sam, better than you know yourself, and it’ll kill you never to see them again. What about what Y/N wants?”

“Did you ask Lisa what she wanted?” Dean opens his mouth to argue, but I don’t back off. Lisa and Ben were the closest things he ever had to a wife and kid. “No, because you knew what she would say. You did the only thing you could to protect them.” Dean grimaces; he knows I’m right. “I have to keep them safe, Dean.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Dean sighs. “When this is all over, Crowley’ll be human, and all those sons of bitches will be locked away.”

“I’m not going to put them in danger again, Dean.”

“And you won’t. Sammy, let’s just get through this trial. Then, we’ll track down Y/N, find a way to make it work.”

I try to keep myself steady as I lean in to inject Crowley for the second time. As I stick the needle in his neck, he bites me, and I let out an annoyed shout as Dean rushes to my side. “Really, Crowley? Biting?”

Dean walks us out to the Impala and inspects the wound. I look up to see that Dean’s focus is less on the injury and more on my face. I can see him studying it, realizing how much it’s changed over the last few weeks. I’ve lied to Dean and myself about how much the Trials have been taking a toll on me, but looking into his eyes tells me that no matter how much I want to, I can’t hide my pain from him.

“Cas say when he would be back?” I break the growing silence between us.

“No. Maybe once he’s finished doing whatever it is he’s doing, we won’t have to deal with those dicks anymore either,” Dean laughs weakly.

Cas appears outside the church after I finish my confession, asking Dean for his help. He explains that Metatron found a way of putting Heaven back in order, but Cas is the only one who can do it. Dean and I both know that Cas has felt guilty about what has happened over the last two years. Killing Raphael, letting the Leviathan’s out of Purgatory, it was complete anarchy in Heaven from what he had told us.

Dean refuses, insisting on staying with me, ‘if anyone needs a chaperon, it’s Sam’. He didn’t say the words maliciously, but I cringe at the thought of him not being able to trust me to complete this one on my own. Dean is my rock, the only person I’ve ever been able to rely on, he’s the one who’s always been there for me, and I can’t let him or Y/N/N down again.

“You think he can do it, fix heaven, or whatever?”

“If anyone can, it’s Cas.” Dean opens the Impala’s trunk and pulls out a gauze pad and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Knock knock,” he smirks, pulling the same move that he did when we were kids. I roll my eyes at him, “C’mon, Sammy, knock knock.”

“Who’s–” I hiss as the alcohol hits the bite marks on my skin. Dean chuckles slightly, clearly proud of himself as he finds a large bandage and wraps it around my wrist.

“Call Y/N, Sammy,” Dean looks up from my wrist and meets my eyes.

“Dean,” I sigh.

“Just try.”

“I did!” I shout, yanking my hand away. “After we left Weldon; I reached out, I told her I was sorry, I told her that I loved her. You know what she said? Take care of yourself. She didn’t tell me that she wanted us to work out, that she wanted me around.”

“Sammy–”

“Y/N/N was pissed, and she had every right to be, you said it yourself, I scared the crap outta her that night. I listened to you and gave her the time and space that she asked for so that she could sort everything out. I left her alone after that.” I take a few steps back. “I tried calling and messaging her every day since Crowley attacked her, she won’t answer. No matter what I say or do, she doesn’t want any part of it. She's choosing to not speak to me, and I can’t blame her. The least I can do now is finish the Trial and let Y/N/N and Corie move on with their lives. She’s better off without me; they both are.”

“Sam,” Dean brings his hand down over his face. “They’re not, you know that. Don’t be like dad, don’t push them away because you’re afraid of losing them. You’ll never forgive yourself if you walk away from Y/N and Cordy again.”

“Fuck you,” I grumble. “I didn’t walk away the first time. I let one of the people I’m supposed to trust more than anyone else in the world manipulate me. You keep taking dad’s side.”

“Sammy, I’m– I’m not, but dad didn’t make you leave.”

“You wanna know what happened that night?” I ask. Dean still doesn’t know the whole story, and he nods slightly. “I came back from Y/N/N’s house, and I told dad about Stanford. He said that I was abandoning you. All I wanted was to go to college and have a couple of years of a normal, safe life. When I told him that Y/N/N was going with me, he said she couldn't, that I would be accused of kidnapping her. I stood my ground and told him that she was coming with me and nobody was going to stop us. I had to tell him first, Dean, about the baby, and when I did, he fuckin' lost it. Said that Y/N/N was trying to trap me, called her a slut, and the baby wasn't mine. When we got back in the morning, he convinced me that Y/N/N had decided to have an abortion and that she didn’t want to see me again.”

“Sam–”

“No,” I shake my head. I know what he’s about to say. “You’re not going to tell me that he was keeping them safe. Not when he kept in contact with them for years– years, Dean. Dad robbed me of the chance to know my daughter and then weaved a story to Y/N/N, making her think he was the good guy, like he hadn’t said those awful things about her. Corie would’ve known him if he hadn’t died; what would’ve he told her about me, about us? If he wanted to shield them from our enemies, he would’ve stayed away, just like he wanted me to. They would’ve been safe with me; I could’ve protected them from everything. The second Crowley started torturing her to get us to play his game, I knew the only way to make sure that it never happened again would be to remove myself from their lives completely. I’m not walking away; I’m keeping them safe the only way I can.”

“I need your help, Dean,” Cas appears suddenly with a rustling.

“Cas, I told you already. I need to be here with Sam.”

“You should go,” I mumble, “seriously.”

“What, and leave you with the King of Hell? No way.”

“Sam must complete this Trial on his own. You cannot assist him.”

“Keep giving the injections,” Dean orders. “If I’m not back in time for the bloody fist, you finish it, you hear me? No questions, no hesitation.”

I nod, and Dean gives me a half-hearted smile. He and Cas disappear before my eyes, and I walk back into the church.

With every injection, Crowley is becoming weaker. It takes five injections for him to start breaking down, admitting his failures; he almost seemed human. The injections aren’t just curing Crowley. They’re doing something to me, too; I can feel my body breaking down. With every passing hour, we’re both growing weaker.

“I didn’t know about the little one, Moose,” Crowley murmurs as I pull the needle out of his neck. “Not at first.”

Crowley is as close to human as he will be before the final injection. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s saying. “What do you mean, ‘not at first’?”

“I knew about the girl; everyone did,” Crowley lifts his head slightly. “She was the one I’d been watching.”

“Why?” How did he know about Y/N/N and not Corie? Cas said the angels knew from the beginning,

“The two of you were always destined to meet. She was always going to be the one to carry your children. Lillith made it all of the Loyalists’ priority to ensure that you would meet. Think about it, Sam, the case that brought you two together all those years ago, you knew that there was something off about it. But once you and Y/N had met, all your reservations went out the window.”

I feel my entire body vibrate with rage. Cas talked about our paths being destined to cross again, but was it all contrived? Did I ever have any free will?

“You weren’t to meet for years, but Lucifer instructed Lillith to speed up the process. Cordelia was under powerful protection. Someone found a witch to cast a spell over her before she was born, and she was made invisible to us. Y/N was protected as well, but we already knew about her, and it was only a matter of time before she left that small town of hers,” Crowley rasps. “It was Naomi, Moose. She was the one who told me about the little one.”

“Naomi, was your informant?” I huff, “why? Cas said that the angels were told to keep her existence a secret. Why would she tell you about them?” I question the weakened demon. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You said it yourself, Sam. If we’d known, we would’ve used them to our advantage years ago.” Crowley sighs, and I don’t know whether or not to believe him. “I wouldn’t have hurt her, Sam. I would’ve treated her as if she were my own, Cordelia, Princess of Hell.”

“If you weren’t going to hurt her, then why tell us you would?”

“I had to keep your Y/N compliant, and she would’ve done anything to protect Cordelia,” Crowley lifts his head, and I can see how close he is to being human again. “Nothing is more sacred than a mother’s love for her child; there are few bonds greater. The only thing comparable is her soulmate. Like when your mother made a deal with Azazel to save your father and then sacrificed herself for you when Azazel walked into your nursery. Acts of pure love,” he mumbles. “I want that Moose. I deserve love; I deserve to be loved!”

“You deserve nothing, Crowley,” I murmur. “And once we’re done, I’m going to take pleasure in killing you myself. You saw what I did to Brady? That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

I expect some witty retort from Crowley, but he doesn’t speak; he only stares at the ground. Watching him break down, so close to being human, knowing that I’ll be able to get my revenge for everything, makes me feel better than I have in months. I have to finish this, for Y/N/N, for Corie, for Dean. I can’t let them down again.

I grab Ruby’s knife, ready to complete the ritual. This is it; closing the gates of Hell that I was responsible for opening all those years ago. No more Crowley, no more demons, and if Cas succeeds, no more angels either.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra.”

“Sammy, stop!” Dean’s thundering voice causes me to jump. “There’s been a change in plans, Metatron lied. You finish this trial, you’re dead.”

Before Dean ever voiced the words, I knew that there was little chance of me getting out of this alive. If my life is what it takes to close the gates of hell, then I will give it. It's the least I can do to make sure that Y/N/N and Corie can live the rest of their lives in peace. Dean can look after them, show them how to protect themselves from monsters. Bobby and Rufus have safe houses all over the country; I know I can trust Dean to keep the only family we have left safe.

“So?” I mutter, closing the gap between Crowley and me. “Look at him!” I turn around, coming face to face with Crowley again; the King of Hell, now a blubbering mess. Crowley doesn’t look at me but turns his attention to Dean. As if Dean is the one who can save him, but he’s too far away, all I have to do is give him the final dose of blood. “Look how close we are! Other people will die if I don't finish this.” Dean stares at me wide-eyed, stunned, as he takes in my words. The only reason he let me continue with the Trials was that I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. These Trials were supposed to be my way out of hunting. “I have to finish this for them, Dean. I have to keep Y/N/N and Corie safe.”

“Listen to me, Sammy.” Dean raises his hands in surrender. “I know you want to keep them safe, but this isn’t the only way to do it. Y/N and Cordy, they need you, Sam, even if they don’t know it. You finish this trial, and you're taking away Cordy’s chance to know you. You’re making Y/N’s choice for her.”

I pull away from Crowley and mull over what Dean says. I shake my head and weigh my options. Is Dean, right? No, Killing Crowley and closing the Gates of Hell is the only way to keep my family safe. Seeing my momentary hesitation, Dean takes a step closer.

“Sam, think about everything we’ve learned since we started: rescuing a soul from Hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a hellhound. We have a real chance to turn the tide here, but I can't do it without you.”

“You can barely do it with me.” I choke on my words, feeling the tears press against my eyes as I fail to fight them back. “Y/N/N hates me. She won’t ever forgive me for Crowley.”

“You don’t know that, Sam,” Dean argues gently, taking another step forward.

“Y/N/N and Corie, they’re better off without me, all of you are. If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t even need to close the gates. It’s my fault they were opened in the first place. It’s my fault that Lucifer got outta the cage; thousands of people are dead because of me.”

“Sammy.” Dean shakes his head. “You gotta know that isn’t true.”

“You’re still pissed about Ruby, Dean. About me losing my soul, killing Lilith. You think I’m a screw-up, that I need a chaperon.”

“C'mon, man, that's not what I meant–”

“It's exactly what you meant,” I cut him off. “Do you wanna know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down, Y/N/N down. I can't do that again. You wanna know why I never told you about Y/N/N and the baby?” Dean’s face softens. “I didn’t know how to tell you, of all people, that I was going to leave it all behind. Y/N/N and I, we were going to start over in California. I wanted to marry her, live a safe life, just the three of us. How was I supposed to tell you, the one person I’ve always been able to count on, that I was going to leave the only life I’d ever known?”

“Sammy–”

“I was scared to tell dad because I knew that he’d be pissed, tell me that I was irresponsible, and all that bullshit. But you– you raised me, Dean, you were more my parent than dad ever was. I couldn’t disappoint you again, and I couldn’t risk that you would take dad’s side over mine.”

“Just hold it. Hold on,” Dean bellows. “You seriously think that? Because none of it, none of it, is true.” Dean takes a step forward, and I keep the knife pressed against my palm.

“You just stood there when dad said if I left, I couldn’t come back. You’re my big brother, and I thought if anyone could’ve helped me with Y/N/N and the baby, it would’ve been you. I lost everything that night, not just Y/N/N and the baby, but you too. And I only got some of it back when you turned up in Palo Alto.” Dean frowns. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to her, to either of them. I never got to have a real talk with my daughter. I never got the chance to tell Corie that I thought about her and Y/N/N every day for the last ten years and that leaving was the biggest regret of my entire life.”

“Sammy, all you have to do is stop, and you can tell her. We’ll go there right now.”

“We can’t, Dean.” I let the knife slice through the skin of my palm. The glowing in my arms becomes brighter, and pain radiates through me. “Y/N/N left Weldon and took Corie with her, she ran away from her home town and took my daughter with her. They could be on the other side of the fuckin’ world for all we know.”

“You’re right. But he knows.” Dean gestures at Crowley behind me. “He can tell us where they are.”

“Y/N/N doesn’t want me around, Dean, don’t you get that?” I huff, moving backwards towards Crowley. “She doesn’t trust me to keep her or Corie safe. They deserve better than some fuck-up like me in their lives. I’ve only ever let them down. I’m not going to do it again.”

“We can fix it, Sam. You, Y/N, and Cordy, you belong together. We’ll find her, find Cordy. We’ll teach them everything they need to know about protecting themselves. I’ll get you your apple-pie life, brother, but you gotta trust me, okay? You gotta stop.”

“I do trust you, Dean. I always have,” I mumble. “I’ve always been able to count on you, my whole life, you’ve been the one who’s always been there for me. But what happens when you decide I can’t be trusted again? Will you take Y/N and Cordy away, hide them from me? Who will you turn to? Another angel, another- another vampire?”

“Hold on, hold on!” Dean shouts. “You can’t believe that’s true, any of it! I know that we’ve had some disagreements. Hell, I know I’ve said some things that sent you back on your heels. But Sammy, c’mon, I killed Benny to save you. I’m willing to let this bastard and all the other sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you.” Dean takes a step closer, and I can see the tears in his eyes. “Don’t you dare think there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you. You gotta see that, okay? I need you to see that.”

“What about Y/N/N? Corie?” I sniff.

“I’ll get you back to them, Sammy, I swear to God. I will do everything in my power to keep the three of you together for the rest of your lives.”

I can feel the blood from my palm drip onto the floor as I consider Dean’s words. If I can be back with Y/N/N and Corie, everything will be worth it. But, the overwhelming need to make Crowley human again consumes my thoughts. My instincts as a father are taking over; I have to do everything I can to keep Corie safe.

Dean’s voice sounds muted, strangled; I can barely hear him as he continues to shout at me. I repeat Father Thompson’s exorcism a final time as I move back to Crowley’s side and put my hand over his mouth. ‘I did it,’ I murmur before the darkness consumes me.

Next Chapter

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[meanminyxrd]

believe but its ab a redheaded runaway

alright so today i’m tackling ‘believe’ by hollywood undead. i think the vibes can fit both andrew and neil, but moreso neil in this connotation. as always, book spoilers ahead. i’ve been forgetting to put that lately.

let’s start w the chorus and opening of the song:

I can't believe that when I breathe

There's something good inside of me, just one good thing inside

So close to me, that memory

Of that one good thing inside of me, just one good thing inside of me, yeah

neil is, inherently, a selfish person before he gets attached to the foxes. think ab it: he cares only for his survival and nothing more, nothing less. that takes a certain type of apathy towards other people, which was taught to him by his mother. stay disconnected, stay safe. care for no one but yourself. when he starts seeing that the foxes care for him, and he’s just... playing them, essentially—lying to them about who he is and where he’s come from—he acknowledges that they’re never going to forgive him for ditching them later on in the year; specifically andrew, because he promised andrew he would stay. he feels like a bad person but it’s what he has to do to live. he wants to stay and play exy and be able to focus on something other than survival for once, but he knows it’s all just a play in his head. in the end its about his survival.

If I ran out the backdoor, nobody would stop me, but where would I go?

'Cause I ain't ever had a real home, so what do I know?

So I could keep running, hide until they find me, but what would that do?

If they could only know what I knew, what would it prove?

I should've seen the writing on the wall, instead I'm left to fall

'Cause the longer I'm away, the more we stay the same

Looking back, would've thought I knew it all

Instead I'm left to fall, did I throw it all away?

neil is a runaway. it’s how he’s managed to survive this long; running away and keeping on the move to avoiding his father’s men tracking him down. never leaving a trail, never staying anywhere for too long and never making any connections. when he leaves, there’s no one there to stop him both physically and metaphorically. no connections means he isn’t held back emotionally or by someone forcing him to stay. he’s never really had a home, being on the run his whole life. its all about survival, but neil signs the contract to palmetto, right? he knows he could keep running to stay safe but really, what would that do? is that really living? he wants to open up to people im sure, but what would that prove to them? in his mind it would just show that he was a bad person—dangerous. keeping kevin around is one thing; kevin is an exy star. he’s worth it. but neil? neil is nothing. why would they risk their life for a nobody?

saying he should have seen the writing on the wall alludes to all the hints that his father’s men left that they were closing in on him, however he ignored it just to be able to stay a little longer—play a little longer. instead he ignored it and fell. looking back on it he thought he had a handle on it and would be able to get away or at the very least accept his death, but it actually hurts. he got attached without realizing. and now he’s wondering if any of it was worth it. is this worth losing his life for? or, did he do enough w his time with the foxes and with andrew? or did he throw away that time for nothing?

Don't you know, little boy, they'll lay you to waste, man?

Little do they know every song has a lifespan

Never taken one, but I'm taking my last chance

To hold all we know and let go with both hands

So don't you know the clouds are made from concrete?

Right through the stone, can you hear my heartbeat?

Beats through my bones like the memory left me

Not for a second or a minute when I dream

I wanna go home like the home that I keep

You can dig six or sixty-six feet

‘don’t you know, little boy, they’ll lay you to waste, man?’ his father’s men want him dead and he knows that. they’re who he’s been outrunning his entire life (and i suppose the yakuza but he didn’t know that.) he knows attention is being drawn towards him by being in the public eye, so this is like he’s mocking himself, because he knows he’s taking a very big unnecessary risk. he’s never taken a chance in his life before because its always been about survival. but this time he is taking a chance. he’s taking a chance by joining the palmetto state foxes. but by taking this chance it is metaphorically the last chance he’ll ever take, because at this point he’s 99% sure he’s gonna end up dead by the end of it all. ‘dont you know the clouds are made of concrete?’ referencing that the only way out for him is by death. whether by someone else’s hand or his own. the only way this whole catastrophe is going to end in him being ‘at peace’ or ‘in heaven’ ie the clouds, is if he’s killed. digging 6 or 66 feet down implies ‘6 feet under’, again a death metaphor.

We could live forever, still your misery missed me

Hold this song together with a bottle of whiskey

Look into the mirror at the lines that time drew

See them painted white and the eyes that shine through

My heart beats heavy in an open chest

And I wanna say goodbye, but there's nobody left

he could have gone to his dad and flipped everything on his mom instead, or run off to live with his uncle, but the anger that his father had missed neil. yes, neil had his father’s temper, but his father was tainted with misery that neil didn’t get and he didn’t want any part in the crime scene of things. ‘look into the mirror at the lines that time drew, see them painted white and teh eyes that shine through.’ this part to me is in the mirror after the nest, when neil is first really seeing his scars, ‘the lines that time drew’ would reference like old age lines stereotypically, but in neil’s case i see it a reference to his scars because that’s what marks time for him—his scars. the scars that his dad and his dad’s men left. the scars that riko left. the scars he has just from living. the ‘eyes that shine through’ is because neil no longer has his contacts. when wymack gets him from the airport he has nothing of his disguise left. and god, is he tired of running. his heart is so heavy. he wants to be able to say goodbye to someone when he dies, but there’s no one left. his mom is dead and he has no connections other than, now, the foxes. but being in this mindset of its him vs everyone, he’s alone. he cant say goodbye to anyone but himself.

I broke it all, and I put it to the test

Put your hand on mine, and feel this emptiness

There's no beat in my chest 'cause there's nothing left

No, it ain't goodbye, it's a last caress

What's another dream? You can hardly sleep

Can you believe bad things only happen to me?

God knows one day you will finally see

That scars will heal but were meant to bleed

neil, by making these decisions, broke every self imposed rule he had for himself to stay safe. he broke the rules his mother had set in place prior to her death, and he tested the limits. he chanced trusting, if just a little. he chanced making a connection. specifically, with andrew. so this part is really andreil heavy for me. let me explain why.

this part is almost like the locker room scene when his father’s men were being security guards and he knew he no longer stood any chance. he says goodbye to andrew in that moment, and this last part is a big goodbye message to me.

he’s empty. he’s out of fight. he cant fight or he would risk the foxes lives too. there’s nothing left inside of him. he says thank you to andrew as a goodbye, but it’s not a goodbye, no, it’s a last touch, one last joy to share even if it’s small. ‘whats another dream? you can hardly sleep.’ what’s the loss of something you lose all the time? what’s the loss of something that doesnt matter? neil doesnt think he matters to andrew, and so what will his loss mean, if anything? why would andrew care? the ‘can you believe bad things only happen to me?’ is a mocking quote if anything; bad things have followed neil around his whole life, and though statistically its not true only bad things happen to him, it sure feels like he’s got the worst of it. and even in the off chance that andrew does miss him, the emotional scars will heal, even if it does hurt. because neil doesnt think he matters as much to andrew as he really does.

Do you realize I would lie for you?

Please, have my last breath, I would die for you

I know I'm no good, but my heart beats true

You know I'm gonna fight, though I might be scared to lose

You took me in, and I fucked it up again

An empty promise? No, I won't pretend

'Cause in the end we need someone to solve 'em

Nobody can fix me if I'm part of the problem

he would give everything to protect the foxes. he cares about them more than he’d like to admit. he may seem distant, but do they realize how far he’s willing to go to ensure their safety? first he went to the nest to protect them, right? now he’s literally going off to his death to keep them safe. he would lie for them, he would die for them; he would throw away everything he could and couldn’t have for them. he doesnt believe hes a good person, for putting them all in this situation, but he’s trying his best. his heart has the best intentions for the foxes. in that ‘goodbye’ to andrew, he conveys so much, and andrew obviously catches on that it’s a goodbye. but neil conveys that he’s gonna fight, even if he’s scared he’s gonna lose, even if he knows he’s gonna lose. andrew took him in after everything; after being sus of neil and then neil telling him half truths, and yet he’s fucking everything up again by going off to die. and empty promise? there isnt an empty failed promise because he made andrew break off the deal beforehand. in the end, andrew was the one who was helping to fix him. the connection he formed with andrew made him feel like he had a shot; like maybe they could outwit his father and he would be safe. however, this whole situation including himself couldn’t be fixed because he is a part of the problem. he blames himself for the foxes being a target so to keep them safe he will go off w his father’s men and remove the issue. no one can fix him and keep him safe if he’s the dangerous one.

uhhh yeah i hope you liked my breakdown! here’s neil’s playlist if you’re curious for more! see ya next time.

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 3

Trigger warning: Mentions of domestic abuse

“It’s been 3 days Riv. You’re gonna have to talk to me about what the fuck happened the other day.” Tommy says standing on my balcony smoking a cigarette.

How do I even begin to explain myself though? I swipe his pack of cigarettes off the railing and light one taking a drag. Tommy raises an eyebrow at my actions, but otherwise is non reactive to the nasty habit I’ve picked up and quit for what felt like a million times.

“I’ve known Kevin most of my life.” I start, my voice already beginning to shake. “He is a few years older than me and worked on my grandparent’s farm and I was head over heels for him. Like I used to follow him around as he cleaned the barns level in love because he was always so kind and sweet to me.”

Tommy just nods his head along and I continue.

“We got married right after I graduated high school and that was when he stopped being so sweet. He found he preferred cuddling a bottle of vodka at night a lot more than he liked cuddling up with me. Then, instead of hitting the bottles, he hit me.”

Tommy’s hand curls into a fist at his side and he blows hard out of his nose. “Go on” he says and I can tell he’s working on keeping his cool.

“When I found out I was pregnant the beatings stopped for a little bit. He, um, seemed really happy for a while and I really thought this was what we needed to be happy again. Boy was I wrong.” I hadn’t even realized tears were streaming down my face until I felt them hitting my trembling hands in my lap.

“He came home one night drunker than I had ever seen him and meaner than he had any right to be and just let loose on me. A neighbor heard me screaming thank god and called the cops or I might have died that night along with our baby. We come from a pretty small town so there wasn’t much help for me to leave him, most people thought it wasn’t their business. About a month later I took every last dime I had, all the clothes I could carry, and left my ring and the life I had under ‘Rebecca’ there and came to L.A.. That was about a year ago.”

I looked down to see Tommy had silently slipped his hands into mine as I was recounting the story that I had hoped to never have to explain to anybody. He rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

“I promise you Riv, I will kill him if he so much as looks at you again.” I’m soon crushed against Tommy’s chest in a tight hug and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t the safest I had ever felt in the last year. Hell, the last few years.

“Thank you Tommy, but I don’t want you boys to get caught in the crossfire.”

“What else will you do then?” He asks quietly.

“Probably pack up and move elsewhere. Somewhere he can’t find me.”

“No.” Tommy says standing straight up. “No you can’t leave Riv we just started being friends.” He paces back and forth on the small balcony while lighting another cigarette.

“You guys are on your way to doing big shit T-Bone. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“That’s even more of a reason to let the guys and I protect you?” He says as if it’s obvious. “Besides, you’re our photographer. Who else is going to capture all the nudity on camera?”

“You know for a second there you weren’t a gross pig.” I try to not mirror Tommy’s face splitting grin, but I’m not that strong.

“Atta girl.” He bounces up and walks in my house as if he lives there and calls behind him “Come on let’s go to the diner for pancakes. My treat.” I didn’t question how he earned the money to pay this time. I knew it was rarely legal.

I double over laughing in the booth for nearly the tenth time at another story of the stupid shit Tommy has done. We’re the same age, but I can’t help but feel inferior in the life I’ve lived. Besides packing up and moving out of town to come to L.A. on a whim, I haven’t done anything exciting. Tommy has had enough experiences for two lives.

“So anyway Nikki comes up with the genius idea to stick our dicks in breakfast burritos to cover up any scent that we had just fucked these other chicks. Cause like our girlfriends couldn’t know right?” He pauses to sip his Coke and pours the rest of his Jack shooter into my coffee.

“Tommy Lee!” I scold in a hushed whisper.

“Let me finish my story. So anyway me, Sixx, and Vinnie are basically fucking these burritos in the back of my van at the ass crack of dawn to all go home to our girlfriends because Vince wanted to fuck a bride to be at her bachelorette party.” Tommy stuffs more pancakes into his shit eating grin.

“Tommy you guys are insane. How the hell am I friends with you lunatics? Mick is the least insane one and he’s hardly around.” I laugh sipping my spiked coffee wincing only a tiny bit at the burn of the whiskey.

“You just haven’t known Mick long enough. He gets crazy too.” He wags his eyebrows at me suggestively “And you get to capture those moments on film”

“Oh lucky me.” I feign excitement and he tosses a sugar packet hitting me in the face. The walk back to the apartment from the diner is filled with just as many laughs as our meal was and my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. Tommy has one arm slung around my shoulder while his other swings at his side besides when he takes a puff of his cigarette. Tommy is everything my parents would’ve hated to see me hanging around with, let alone being as close with him as we are now. He had long dark hair, wore make up, and the only real work ethic he had was put into his drumming (that’s not to say he didn’t have work ethic they just wouldn’t have seen it that way).

“Ya wanna know something Riv?” Tommy asks looking everywhere that isn’t at me.

“I wanna know everything at all times.” I joke and he hip checks me lightly. A grin spreads across his face and I wonder if his cheeks hurt like mine from smiling so much.

“You have huge eyes.” He says finally.

I stop in my tracks and stare at him mouth agape.

“Tommy Lee are you making fun of me?!” I shriek and he’s double over laughing at my expression.

“I’m kidding! Well kinda.” I shove at him lightly and begin to walk away, but his hand in mine stops me from leaving him to laugh on his own and we resume walking together to the apartment this time hand in hand.

“What I was actually gonna say was-” Tommy’s grip on my hand tightens and a scary look casts over his features.

I follow his line of sight to see Kevin speaking to the landlord that lived on the floor level. It looked like he hadn’t noticed us yet and I wanted to keep things that way. I tug Tommy’s hand trying to pull him up the stairs to our floor out of his line of sight.

“Oh am I interrupting date night?” I hear behind me. Busted.

“Kevin. Not now.” I hiss not wanting to draw any attention to us.

“I’m sorry did I your HUSBAND interrupt your date with your new fuck buddy?” Kevin raises his voice.

“I’m only going to tell you once dude, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Tommy growls out between grit teeth.

“Hey nobody tells me how to talk to my fucking wife.” Kevin steps closer. Tommy doesn’t step back being that it’s hard to be intimidated by a man at least six inches shorter than you. “She left you bro. Get the fuck over it and move on.” Tommy had somehow maneuvered me behind him and positioned himself in front of me. Kevin clearly didn’t take kindly to that.

“Listen, dick head, I’m not leaving without my fucking wife. You can find someone new to fuck in a city like this. I guarantee she isn’t the only whore”

And that’s when I hear it, the sound of a fist connecting with a face and teeth clanking together. Tommy is on Kevin before I even have time to full process that a punch was thrown. Tommy had the element of surprise and uses that to his advantage to land a few good punches to Kevin’s face. Kevin’s foot connects with Tommy’s gut and gives him the opportunity to get up and land a few punches of his own.

“Guys please stop!” I’m shouting trying to get them off each other without getting hit. I know there’s nothing I can do physically so I do the only thing I can think of doing. And I scream for Nikki.

Nikki is pulling Tommy off of Kevin who looks worse for wear than I had ever seen him. Kevin’s lip is busted, he’s got a black eye forming, and there is blood coming from both a cut on the top of his nose and from his nose in general. Tommy has a small cut on his cheek, also what looks like a black eye coming, and is bleeding from somewhere inside his mouth because he spits blood on Kevin. Kevin charges at him again, but is knocked on his ass by Nikki kicking him square in the gut.

“Enough!” Nikki screams and a small part of me is scared by the sound.

I don’t bother to make sure Kevin is okay before I follow the boys up to our floor. I race into my own apartment to grab some painkillers, a washcloth,  and a bag of frozen peas for Tommy. When I get into their apartment I see Tommy downing some whiskey from the bottle and he tries to smile at me and winces. I gently pluck the bottle from his hand and set it on the counter next to him. I run the washcloth under water and begin to clean the blood off his face. He hisses as I dab at the cut on his cheek and lip trying to be gentle so I don’t make the bleeding start again.

“Hey River, could you maybe not try to get my drummer killed?” Nikki jokes knocking back some of the whiskey. Tears well up in my eyes despite me knowing there’s no malice behind his words.

“I’m so sorry Tommy.” I sob tears cascading down my face.

“Hey, hey shhh” Tommy tries to console me by hugging me to him. “These things, they happen. Hang out with Sixx and I long enough and you’ll be bailing us out of jail in no time.”

“Fuck I’m surprised you haven’t already.” Nikki pipes up.

“This is all my fault if you wouldn’t have tried to stick up for me you wouldn’t have gotten hit.”

“I swung first.” He chuckles rubbing my back.

“Atta boy!” Nikki bellows and we all have a good laugh at that. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure use a fucking shot.” Tommy tosses back two painkillers and washes them down with a swig of whiskey offering the bottle to me.

“Fuck it.” I shrug and down two big gulps and pass the bottle to Nikki. He’s clapping me on the back while I hold the frozen peas to Tommy’s eye and pretend I can’t feel Tommy’s thumb rub tiny circles on my thigh where I’m standing between his legs. And I pretend the warmth I feel is from the alcohol and not because of the way he looks at me.

[mittensmorgul]

Read your rewatch for early 8, and it reminded me about a question during my own watching. Why did Dean/the show condemn Sam for not looking for Dean in Purgatory? It just annoys me because Dean essentially did the same thing: he thought Cas was dead, and didn't go back to Purgatory to look for him. It's not like Sam had any idea that Dean was in Purgatory. It just seems like both Sam and Dean did the 'trying to move on after person seemingly died' thing but only Sam got called out for it.

Eh... I mean... it’s going back much further than that. Early s6, to be exact, when Sam forced Dean to promise him that he’d go live that apple pie life with Lisa, AND that he wouldn’t try to get him out of the cage from 5.22.

SAM: So you got to promise me something.DEAN: Okay. Yeah. Anything.SAM: You got to promise not to try to bring me back.DEAN: What? No, I didn't sign up for that.SAM: Dean --DEAN: Your Hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. You want me just to sit by and do nothing?SAM: Once the Cage is shut, you can't go poking at it, Dean. It's too risky.DEAN: No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there.SAM: Yeah, you are. You don't have a choice.DEAN: You can't ask me to do this.SAM: I'm sorry, Dean. You have to.DEAN: So then what am I supposed to do?SAM: You go find Lisa. You pray to god she's dumb enough to take you in, and you – you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me. 

Worst. Promise. Ever. Because Dean DID live up to half of it, but of course he never stopped searching for a way to free Sam. He couldn’t live with the notion that Sam would be trapped in Hell, in the cage with Michael and Lucifer, enduring eternal torment for saving the world. That was a really horrific concept to Dean.

Specifically, Dean knew exactly where Sam was, knew there had to be a way to free him from it, and spent a YEAR trying to find it. Meanwhile, Sam’s body had been out walking around soulless for year and never bothered to even give Dean a howdedoo, while Dean endured a year of torment believing Sam was still trapped there (and honestly, he WAS still trapped there, at least his soul was, and Dean did everything in his power to save THAT too...)

Granted, I think the bigger condemnation of Sam in s8 wasn’t that he never fought to bring Dean back from Purgatgory (because honestly he had no idea that’s where Dean was, or that there was any way to actually rescue him there, after s6 spent the entire season documenting why it was so freaking difficult to even FIND Purgatory, let alone GET there), but that he abandoned his entire life and ran off and pretended it never existed at all.

He abandoned Kevin Tran into Crowley’s hands and never bothered to even search for HIM. He never bothered to investigate a single horror he read about while keeping up on the news of the weird, just assuming someone else would handle it. But there was no one to help Kevin. And really, even if Sam thought Dean may have been dragged to Purgatory by Dick, he never even tried to investigate if that could be true.

Now, I’m assuming you’re attempting to indict Dean for being a hypocrite here, so I will attempt to be very, very clear. Remember what Cas said to Dean when he comes back, in 8.07? A HUGE part of early s8 was Dean’s denial and burying the true memory of what happened in Purgatory. The entire reason he never acted on it was because he DID know the truth about why Cas stayed behind. And it HURT:

CASTIEL: Hey, everything isn't your responsibility. Getting me out of Purgatory wasn't your responsibility.DEAN: You didn't get out. So whose fault was it?CASTIEL: It's not about fault. It's about will. Dean, do you really not remember?DEAN: [laughs shortly] I lived it, Cas. Okay, I know what happened.CASTIEL: No. No, you think you know. You remembered it the way you needed to.DEAN: Look, I don't need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don't need it!CASTIEL: Dean. Just look at it. Really look at it. [He touches DEAN on the forehead.]

Dean knew the truth all along, that Cas pushed himself away, that he didn’t want to come back. And deep down, Dean had internalized this as explicit rejection of DEAN by Cas. He knew there was no point to going back to “save” Cas because he literally did not want to be saved.

CASTIEL: See, it wasn't that I was weak. I was stronger than you. I pulled away. Nothing you could have done would have saved me, because I didn't want to be saved.DEAN: What the hell are you talking about?CASTIEL: It's where I belonged. I needed to do penance. After the things I did on earth and in heaven, I didn't deserve to be out. And I saw that clearly when I was there. I... I planned to stay all along. I just didn't know how to tell you. You can't save everyone, my friend... though, you try.

And somewhere deep down, Dean knew this. He even said as much to Sam in 8.01 while explicitly refusing to talk about the situation:

DEAN: Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go.

He may not have gotten an explanation from Cas until he came back, but he knew...

He also knew that the only way OUT of Purgatory was a one-way door that Purgatory manifested because of his unwanted presence...

DEAN: I guess whoever built that box didn't want me in there any more than I did.

A portal that Benny told him about that only a human could pass through? Which sealed itself up the moment Dean stepped through it? Yeah, how do we open that one again? How do we force it open to get BACK into Purgatory? Well, that’s something they never even knew was possible at all. Or else s6 starts to look a bit more stupid than it actually was, you know?

So as he fought his way to the portal (which we will see in 8.07), we saw Cas shove Dean through and refuse to even TRY to leave, after hinting for who knows how long that the portal might not even work for him, and implying that he had no intention of leaving anyway (which Dean refused to even listen to, because of COURSE he would manage to save Cas, too...).

THAT is difference here. It’s not just this “you didn’t even try to rescue me from Purgatory,” which Dean himself knows is an impossible task, it’s all the other stuff... the fact that Sam would just... abandon EVERYTHING, give up hunting, go off and live a normal life without looking back.

And the whole “Sam hit a dog” was just one long metaphor for all of this. So was, “you never looked for me when I was in Purgatory.” Because we all know Sam DID look for Dean once, when he was in Hell. He bargained with crossroads demons, worked with Ruby, had Bobby researching ways to save Dean... but when left to his own devices, he tended to have two speeds: SAVE AT ALL COST WHILE ALSO SEEKING REVENGE AT ALL COST (ie the version of Sam we see in the latter half of 3.11 which is TERRIFYING ffs, as Gabriel called him “Travis Bickle in a skirt” which is super not flattering... but eerily true), or else BLANK SLATE GO WHERE NOBODY KNOWS ME AND PRETEND TO BE NORMAL AT ALL COST. Which is what he did at Stanford, and what he did after 7.23.

He was all or nothing, and this go-around, he chose nothing. There was no balance. Dean didn’t have balance either. Neither did Cas. It was all or nothing for all of them. Cas also chose “nothing.” And Dean, no matter how awful he felt about it after leaving Purgatory, deep down he understood that.

I think what actually upset Dean the most is that Sam was literally the only person on Earth who knew Kevin Tran’s fate, and he did NOTHING to try to save him. But in the shorthand of the narrative, Sam’s abandonment of his entire life when he knew that was never what Dean would’ve wanted (after getting his soul back he was upset with Dean for his perception that Dean never tried to get out of the life, never tried to go to Lisa and make that work, until he truly understood just how horrific Dean’s entire experience that year had been... and I think this makes it doubly hurtful to Dean that Sam could just happily walk away in a way that he himself never could... it highlighted this MAJOR difference between them that was more something they had to come to an understanding over rather than attempting to prove to the other that they felt the same, you know? Which has largely been their character arcs since that point so.... context matters in the ongoing narrative, and the narrative has repeatedly condemned Sam’s abandonment here while portraying Dean’’s more as mourning for someone he believes is truly lost to him and entirely out of reach by his own choice).

[kariachi]

Okay, y’all gave your approval, so I’m doing a partial liveblog of King of the Castle. Can’t get all of the episode right now, but I’m gonna do what I can and then redo the episode for a proper liveblog when it comes out in the states and I can, ya know, watch all of it.

This one won’t be rated, because I’m missing like 10% of the episode and so can’t judge fairly.

As someone who was once a young girl, it is incredibly nostalgic watching Gwen daydream about being crowned Queen of England. That is just how it be with some girls. Also Ben is just not having shit.

Lady Wilhelmina Warrick of Castle Bishopbrooke, nickname Willy. Huh. And apparently a cousin of some sort.

Gwen is going to die of joy for she is related to a Lady. Ben is going to die of horror for they’re going to a haunted castle. Sounds about accurate.

Ben running for the haunted castle for the sake of proving it’s haunted.

Kevin, lurking on either a roof or a balcony, waiting for a certain small Tennyson. Do we ever get an episode where he appears just, dive-tackling Ben from offscreen? I feel like we need that in our lives.

Gwen disappointed that the castle is in shit shape. I’d say just rough but, part of the floor is missing, including the area of rug that should be hiding it. Willy needs to step up her game, pick up a hammer or something. It’s called DIY.

Willy’s got some upper body strength. Also refers to Max as Cousin Maxie, so I have to assume the two are actually somewhat close. How close of a relation is it, I wonder?

Gwen curtseys and Ben tries to copy her but doesn’t have the balance for it. This is why we practice, Ben.

Gwen wanting to know everything about being a noble.

“There’s always work to be done” that’s putting it mildly.

The only thing here out to get you Ben is Kevin. Although I wouldn’t put it past him to be behind that, though I do think Gwen is right about it just being how bad of shape the building is in.

I’m fairly certain Willy’s about to put Max to work helping clean shit up (you brought it on yourself Max) while the kids escape, but given we lose some bits right here this is just an assumption. We jump from Max offering directly to Ben and Gwen wandering around.

Ben goes Heatblast to light a load of torches to keep ghosts at bay, and immediately the wind comes through and blows them all out again. And Heatblast himself while it’s at it.

More Kevin, sneaking about the halls. Child are you honestly behind this? I wouldn’t be surprised, you totally would, I just wanna know how. Also the fucking chord when he appears, it’s not Norman Bates fucking chill.

Ben is too scared of ghosts to wander around without his cousin.

Willy drinking tea while Max mops up and mice run about. I am not shocked.

Well Gwen, this is what happens when you go someplace labelled ‘haunted’. They tend to be very dusty and also a lot less elegant than the not-so-haunted castles. Besides, Willy’s a Lady not the Queen.

The Warrick family crest is a bear playing a harp like it’s a fucking electric guitar. Have you ever had that moment where you wonder where a character gets it and then the show just, answers you in the most unexpected way?

And Ben lights the tapestry on fire because an end curled up when Gwen went to look at it and so it is clearly evil and possessed. Gwen leaves, Ben panics, and the tapestry crumbles to ash after he throws it out a window. You know Kevin is behind one of those bookshelves going ‘this is why I bully him’.

Ben does not like being alone in a haunted castle.

Ben: “It’s clear what happened here- Gwen was eaten by a ghost, and you’re next if you aren’t careful! It’s too late for Gwen, but you have lots of options!” Followed by an imagine spot depicting him not being able to do shit to defend himself against a ghost with Gwen clearly visibly in it’s belly. 10-yos everybody.

I just love that as the imagine spot goes on eaten!Gwen gets more and more tired of the whole situation, ending with her kicking back and reading a book inside the ghost. He doesn’t half know his cousin, does he?

Also confirmation Ben knows he can’t go Wildvine or Overflow.

Gwen is very good at this ghost prank thing, though Ben does make it very easy. And the reveal the ghost is Gwen is where we leave off on this portion. Only one more clip to go and that seems to cover most of the rest of Kevin’s existence in this episode.

(Random, did y’all know CN Aus has the whole of Escape from Aggregor up on youtube? I’m not gonna liveblog it because I already did a few years back, but in case y’all wanna watch it, it’s there.)

We begin this next section with a Ben and a Gwen and a hedgemaze.

Ben has been eaten by the hedgemaze, it’s Rose Red all over again.

And Ben is panicking, not helped by Kevin taking full advantage of his fear of ghosts to be all eerie voice from out of sight. Because this child.

“Gwen is that you again?” Ben asks of the very Kevin voice. Like seriously, this kid isn’t even trying to hide it’s him. It’s wonderful.

Oh look, it’s, Thornblade I think? Kev’s Wildvine equivalent? Taking full advantage of location. I’m going to assume Kevin watches a lot of horror movies because he’s playing it well so far.

Dodging blows being thrown at you from the hedges right up until Thornblade forms himself out of vines in front of you while you weren’t looking.

Nobody would’ve expected Ben to be happy to see Kevin, but Kevin he can at least fight, unlike a ghost.

I admit, the way that was going, I was expecting the argument to devolve into yeah-huhs and nuh-uhs. Don’t know whether I’m sad or not that it didn’t. Although Ben claiming he’s fought houseplants badder than Thornblade is both hilarious and stupid given he is in Thornblade’s clutches at the time.

Ben goes Four Arms, surprising Kevin which I wasn’t expecting. But then Ben gets to be surprised when he knocks Kev over a hedge and it look like he times out, only for sudden- Undertow was it? Eh, I’ll probs find out in a second.

Ooo, nice use of the water powers, focusing on the ground so he can trap Ben in mud.

Okay, now Kevin is just showing off. ‘Look at what I’ve got and can do’. Seriously, Kev, 1) how did you get these aliens, and 2) stick with a shape child. What did you just add this feature? Oh my gods that’s exactly what’s happening isn’t it? You added the switching feature like, yesterday, and are having too much fun testing it out.

Okay, can I just say I really love Dark Matter’s design? Just, we went from a smol frog with no physical capabilities to speak of to balance out the brains, to an actual fucking horror movie monster with brawn as well. And I mean it, look at Dark Matter and how Kevin moves as him, that wouldn’t be out of place in something like Alien or Pumpkinhead.

Seriously, Dark Matter just, kicks ass. Never was big on Grey Matter but this is a frog I can stan.

Seriously those movements are just, exquisite. Also the crystal power? I don’t know what the fuck that red crystal he caused to overtake Ben is or how he managed it as Dark Matter, but it’s cool at fits the horror movie aesthetic.

Trying getting Kevin to monologue for those last few seconds before his watch times out. Not that it works, but it was a valiant attempt.

Not that it mattered anyway because it was literally seconds left. Also the look on Kevin’s face when he realizes he’s timed out and Ben is still Four Arms- you can hear the ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’ going through his little head.

Exit, stage right, pursued by alien.

Ben, having timed out: Alright Kevin, it’s time to ask question and get answers, and I’m all out of answers. Kevin: This boy is a moron

(I know that’s not the line but still.)

Also immediately reminding Ben that in their normal forms he is bigger, smarter, and stronger. Which is true on all counts, given Kev is apparently a tech whiz and definitely older than Ben is.

And teasing Ben for being scared of ghosts just before they both get jumpscared by an inanimate object, the bear statue sending them both fucking bolting, complete with screams.

And Kevin tumbles through a hedge, poorly, just in time for his watch to time back in and an ominous shadow to appear over him.

Forever Knight is here and complimenting Kev. Apparently he ‘shows promise’ (on this we can agree). Kevin, meanwhile, responds to a stranger in full armor appearing out of nowhere and striking up conversation with glares and mild sass.

And while the Forever Knight is touting that old-ass ‘work with me and we shall crush our enemies’ line Kevin has walked away, scoffed at him, shut him down, and called him a nerd and a creep. I’m so proud of my child, he’s a shit but he’s so good.

Willy is gonna miss the fam, though the kids were a delight, Max was a big help.

Willy gives Gwen an antique family heirloom music box as a parting gift, because some people are cool like that. Ben gets forgiveness for all the damage he caused. And Max gets some quality tea to help him chillax after what was apparently the worst day of cleaning ever to look at him.

And we end on Willy having just gotten some contractors in to patch the place up. Good on her. There’s more to the episode but, well. Bits & pieces.

[simonsrosebud]

maybe 3, 16, or 18 on the angst ones??? im in a mood

NOT CANON IN THE KALTON AU

it’s may when dalton breaks up with kevin.

it’s right before their practice of the year when kevin catches dalton’s call.  he stops in the hall on the way to the lounge to answer it.  “hey, what’s up?  i’m about to go change out, but want me to come around after?”

“um, i think, maybe, it’s better if you don’t, kevin.”

and he frowns.  “why, what’s wrong?  are you okay?”

“i just, i’m going through some things right now, and i just think it’s better if i were to do it alone.”

“oh... well, you know i’m always here.  just call me later?”

“kevin...”

kevin’s heart starts beating faster.  “yeah?”

“i don’t just mean alone for a day.”

kevin leans back against the wall.  “what... what do you mean?”  he whispers.

“i mean alone as in, um... without a boyfriend.”

no.  “dalton, whatever it is, i-i’ll do better, i promise.”

dan is the only other person at the stadium yet, and stops in the doorway to the girls locker room when she hears the conversation.  she doesn’t want to pry, but if she’s right, and what’s about to happen really happens then she doesn’t want to leave kevin here alone.

“i’m sorry, kevin-“

“no, hey, please-“

“i-i gotta go.”

“dalton, please!”  but the line is already dead, and kevin doesn’t mean to, but he drops his phone in the process of turning and pressing his forehead against the wall.

he tries holding everything in, but he can feel himself starting to panic, and when dan turns him around with a gentle “it’s okay” he nearly crumples because it’s not okay.  he doesn’t know what’s going on.

dan drives him over to dalton’s apartment, and thank god kevin has a key, but when he gets inside it’s still and quiet.  and the coffee maker is gone and the closet is open and near empty.  the chargers next to the bed are gone and that’s when kevin drops to his knees and presses his hands to the floor because dalton up and left for the summer without warning.

he’s gone, and kevin can’t do anything about it. 

he lets out a sob, followed by heavy breathing and a weight so deep in his chest that he can’t get up.  his hands are shaking over his mouth, and his vision is blurry before he squeezes his eyes shut.

he takes a deep breath, but his exhale is a sob, and he leans forward with his arms around his stomach.

he can’t breathe.

dan comes to find him a few minutes later, and when she tries putting her arms around him he sounds like he’s in pain.  she pulls him upright to lean on her instead.  he clings like his life depends on it, hands clenched in the back of her t-shirt.

when she gets him up enough to get him back to the suite, she makes him promise he’ll be okay before making it to the stadium.  she’s a little bit late for practice, and by the time she gets onto the court neil already started.  it’s supposed to be a captains practice, so she gives him credit for taking over as vice captain.

“where’s kevin?”

“last minute appointment with betsy.”

neil nods.  he knows better than to want to ask.

dan checks the time every ten minutes it feels.  she needs this to be over.

meanwhile, kevin’s lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.  a weight back in his chest and tears silently crawling from his eyes.

he just wants to feel numb.

he looks to the kitchen.

kevin drinks.  he drinks so much that he throws up.

he wants to be numb, but it’s not working.  which is why he drinks some more.

wymack comes by at the end of practice and calls dan over after watching everyone shuffle out.  “kevin?”

she hesitates.  “um, dalton broke up with him right before practice, and up and left for the summer before we could get to his place.  he-he was a mess, coach, he could barely function.  probably on the verge of a panic attack.”

and that peeks his attention in a different way that the first thing did, because he curses under his breath and turns.  “you left him alone?  at the tower?”  she nods, and he curses again.  “come on, fast, danielle!”  she doesn’t usually see coach running for no reason, which makes her high tail it to his car.

wymaca rambles a bit on the way there.  “every time i’ve seen that kid have a meltdown without dalton to rely on it was before they were together, and it always ended with alcohol.”  his fingers tapped on the wheel.  “i don’t fucking care if he breaks sobriety so long as he’s not dying of fucking alcohol poisoning right now.  i know him.  i know how much he loves that fucking kid.  he can not be alone right now.”

and dan can’t tell if he’s seething or worried out of his mind, or both.  but either way, she hasn’t seen him like this since neil went missing and kevin told them it probably wasn’t an accident.

womack has keys to all of their suite’s for emergencies, but kevin’s door is open.  andrew and neil were straight on their way to columbia from practice, so he’s the only one there.

wymack bursts in, and kevin’s drunk out of his mind sitting on the floor against the cabinets.  he shakes his head when he sees his father, and stands.  dan doesn’t think he could make it across the room if he tried.

“m’fine, m’fine!” he leans back against the counter.  “s’probably my fault, anyway.”

he reaches for a bottle of vodka on the counter, and when wymack beats him to it he tries grabbing it.  “come on.”

“no-“

“please!  dan, i-“

“no, kevin!”  wymack is holding him back, a hand on his chest and the other around him to try and keep him still as he pushes against wymack.

“just don’t wanna feel!”  kevin cries out.  he goes limp against wymack and starts to crumble.  “hurts so bad, i just- i just wanna be numb from it all.”  his voice is weak, and he sinks to the ground.  he covers an arm around his face.  “please just take it away.”  he begs.  “please, please, help.  i-i can’t, i can’t,” he sobs.  dan drops beside him and pulls his head to her shoulder.  “i love him so much,” he whispers.  “i dunno what to do.”

she casts a pleading look to wymack, because all she knows to do is rub his back and try to shush him to calm down.

“hey, look at me.”  wymack takes kevin’s chin, gently.  dan backs off.  “this is going to suck.  but you’re going to get up tomorrow, and you’re going to call him up and demand an explanation.  i don’t care if you have to fly to his house, dammit, you’ll do it.  because after your mother left there wasn’t a day i didn’t regret not going after her, okay?  cause look what she left me, kevin.”  he raises an eyebrow.  “you.”  he sticks a finger to kevin’s chest.

kevin nods.  “i want him so bad.”

“then you’ll go after him.  whether it works out or not.”

kevin sleeps on wymack’s sofa that night.

and in the morning, he’s woken up by knocking on the door.

kevin’s head is pounding, but he already threw up everything he could last night.

he trudges to the door, but the person behind it makes him take a step back.  he wants to jump forward and hug him, but it hurts him too much to actually want to go through with it.

“what are you doing here,” he whispers.  he crosses his arms.  he probably smells like alcohol and vomit.

dalton looks desperate, and he falters on what he wants to say, so kevin jumps in again.  “can i just… can you just tell me what i did wrong?”  he bites the inside of his cheek.  he knows it’ll be easy getting him emotional what with just waking up.  “i know i’ve got baggage, but just-just tell me why.  cause i just woke up and i’m all torn up and hungover, so i-i just need to know.  please.”

dalton frowns.  “i… you promised you’d stop drinking-“

“and you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”  kevin’s voice cracks.  “any other lies left to tell me?”  and he takes a deep breath.  “please, dalton, i just need to know why you’d fucking do this to me!”  he messily wipes his eye with the cuff of his sleeve.

“you left without explanation, and-and i… i feel like i’m always going through something, but you’re the reason i’ve come out just fine!  i just wanna be that for you, but instead you thought breaking up would be the better option?  how-how do you think that makes me feel?  to think that my boyfriend doesn’t think i can comfort him?  that he’d rather be a-alone?”  he’s starting to get worked up, and wipes his eyes again.  he takes a deep breathe.

dalton has tears in his eyes.  “i’m sorry,” he whispers.  “i’m so, so, sorry.  that wasn’t… i didn’t mean that.  that’s not what i think, i didn’t mean to leave you thinking that.  and,” he looks away for a second.  “can i just explain?  from the beginning?  i-i want you, i don’t wanna ruin this, and i hope i haven’t already.”

you haven’t.  i just want you.

but kevin lets him in.  he doesn’t sit, but he at least lets him inside and closes the door.  he’s sure his father is hiding out in his office or bedroom.  he’s a light sleeper, and they weren’t exactly being quiet.

dalton starts.  “um, my grandmother died yesterday morning, and my grandfather was admitted to the hospital almost right after, and-and my family doesn’t know why,” he says.  “and i was a mess, but i knew you had practice- i would’ve gone home right away regardless, but i-i didn’t wanna put all my family problems on you, cause you’ve already got enough.  but, i, um, i was almost to maryland and i wanted- i knew i had to turn around, cause i was a fucking asshole, but it was already late and i probably would’ve fallen asleep at the wheel, so i stopped home to sleep for a few hours and now…”  he meets kevin’s eyes again.

“i just can’t lose you, and i was stupid and a dick, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this.  kevin please, i’m… i’m so sorry.”  kevin notices how dalton holds back on reaching out to him.  “is there any way i can fix it?”

kevin looks to the side, arms crossed.  “you’ve probably dealt with so much fucked shit with me and my family,” my foxes, “family problems don’t scare me, d. i love you so much that i sat on my knees in your apartment having a panic attack… i… i don’t wanna do the whole thing where i take a few days away from you,” he says.  “i can be there for you like you’ve done for me, i swear, but you just, like, you have to talk to me. cause i can’t do that again.  so many things went through my head that i can’t go through again.  i-i can’t be left so broken that it makes me wanna be numb enough to drink.”

this time, he lets dalton wipe a tear under his eye.  he speaks quiet.  “i’m humiliated by that.  i never want to break my sobriety again.”

dalton nods.  “i’m so sorry i broke my promise.”

“mine too.”

“no.”  he shakes his head.  “that’s different.  and i should’ve talked to you, told you why i did what i did, even if it was stupid.”

kevin nods.  “can you hold me?” he whispers.

dalton doesn’t waste time, and wraps his arms around kevin, who sinks into his embrace.  “i’ll make you a new promise.  one i can keep.”  dalton speaks into kevin’s hair.  “i promise to communicate better and talk to you, no matter what.”

kevin slides his arms around dalton’s neck.  “i promise i’ll call someone if i ever get the urge to drink alone again.”  and then, “i’m sorry about your grandmother.”  he knows which one it is, too, because his grandmother on his mother’s side passed when dalton was a child.  this one kevin met a few months back, even.

he pulls back, and cups dalton’s face.  “i’m here for you, okay?”

dalton nods, and he tilts his head into kevin’s hand.  “i don’t think it’ll hit me for a while.  the funeral is in three days.”  he pauses.  “you don’t have to, but-“

“i’ll be there with you.”

dalton cups his hand around kevin’s on his face and brings his knuckles to his lips.  “i’ll make all of this up to you.”  kevin kisses his forehead.  “i love you,” dalton whispers.

i’m now realizing i forgot to include angst #16 aka “you’ve changed” but it’s probably better for my own sanity that i didn't bc that one just makes me think of “they break up and run into each other months/years later” which i can NOT do to my boys LOL