#but yeah by the time you’ve given up hope of being immediately rescued and you’re foraging for what little food you can find...

[hailsatanacab]

so I'm enjoying watching Castaway Diva a lot more than I thought I would and like along with the main questions (who is jung ki-ho, where is he, is he one of the brothers) I'm really thinking......... did she eat her dad

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 19

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

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The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement and joy. Wine flowed, people danced, music and laughter filled the air. Karlach had convinced Wyll to join the party, at least for a bit, and the six of them were finally catching up on the day as the tieflings settled in. 

“Then suddenly, there were 6 of her!” Astarion recounted, throwing his usual dramatic flair on the story as he told it. “Of course, immediately I knew which was the real one.” “Did you?” Shadowheart challenged. “Funny how you shot all the others first, then.” “Well, I had to shoot them to get rid of them,” he said defensively. 

“I’m sure that’s the reason,” she said knowingly, looking into her cup of wine before taking a sip. 

“I don’t know how you’re drinking that swill,” Astarion murmured, looking at her glass. “Honestly, we rescue these tieflings and this is the thanks we get? Vinegar for wine?”

“Oh, did no one tell you where the good wine was?” she said, sounding… somewhat genuine as she looked over at him. 

“There’s good wine?” he asked, equal parts surprised and eager. 

“There is. Give me the hag’s bone charm and I’ll tell you where it is,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“Oh, I see. Forget it, it’s mine,” he snapped back, narrowing his eyes at her. Saff, Gale and Wyll had very quickly come to learn that the others were all trying to convince Astarion out of this charm he’d got off the hag. 

“If you insist,” she said calmly with a shrug, taking another deep gulp of wine. Astarion watched her, twitching slightly. 

“I still can’t believe you managed to defeat a hag,” Gale said, deciding to pull the conversation away from Astarion’s desperation for a good glass of wine. He didn’t see the problem, the wine wasn’t anything great but it wasn’t as bad as Astarion was making out. “They’re notoriously powerful.” 

“As are we,” Lae’zel said confidently. “I was disappointed to have missed the goblin fight, but the hag makes for a fine victory.” 

“I can’t say I’m sad to have missed fighting a hag,” Gale said with a small chuckle. “Though I might have been interested to see her magic. I wonder if she’d have been able to remove the tadpole if you’d let her try.” 

“Well she’s still there if you want to find out for yourself,” Astarion said, finally prying his thoughts away from the wine. “You will have to give her an eye, though.” 

“I’m quite content with my eyes the way they are, thank you very much. But that won’t stop me wondering.” 

“What happened to the girl?” Saff asked, leaning forward a bit. “What was her name? Mary something? You didn’t leave her with the hag, did you?”

“Mayrina. No, we didn’t, the hag told her the deal was off. Then the ungrateful little wretch said we’d ruined everything and ran away,” Astarion said, rolling his eyes. “We found her crying over her husband’s corpse. We also found a wand in the hag’s lair with his name on it. Well, she now has a zombie for a husband,” he said with a smirk, clearly feeling like they got back at her for being so ungrateful. 

“Poor girl…” Karlach murmured with a sad sigh, much less happy about the outcome of it all. 

“She made a deal with a hag and lived to tell the tale. You’ve given her more than most people would have got in her situation,” Wyll said. It was the first time he’d spoken in a while - he’d generally been quite quiet and reserved, but Saff couldn’t help but notice that one of the first times he speaks is to cheer up Karlach. It worked - Karlach managed a small smile. 

“Yeah, I guess so. I hope she gets back to Baldur’s Gate ok.” 

“Maybe we’ll be able to find her when we get there ourselves,” Wyll suggested optimistically, meeting her smile with a smile of his own. 

Meanwhile, Astarion had gone back to staring at Shadowheart’s wine glass and finally broke. 

“Oh gods, fine! I’ll give you the damn thing, but you have to give me the wine first,” he snapped, seemingly out of nowhere. Shadowheart was unsurprised though, and just smiled. 

“Very well, this way,” she said, standing up and leading him off. 

“Do you think she actually has a stash of good wine hidden away?” Gale wondered, starting to sound a bit tempted. Saff chuckled and shook her head. 

“I think she’s having him on,” she said, watching as the two disappeared off towards her tent. 

“She is,” Lae’zel said confidently. The others looked at her in surprise. “Mol has the good wine. She told me as much earlier.”

Gale chuckled softly. Of course Mol would say that. 

“Well then, I think we’d better pay Mol a visit,” he decided, standing up. 

Mol did, indeed, have some wine, and she was even willing to part with it for a small offering of coin. Whether or not it was actually any better than the rest of the wine was hard to say.

The group split up to mingle with the rest of the guests. Gale and Saff’s eyes were caught by a dancing spell across the camp, and made their way over to find Rolan performing illusions for his siblings. Sparkling lights shimmered in the air above them, glittering as they fluttered down to earth. It was a fairly basic spell, but beautiful nonetheless.

Gale and Saff joined Cal and Lia in applause, and soon were chatting to Rolan about his plans to further his wizarding powers once he got to Baldur’s Gate.

“Lorroakan?” Gale said in surprise when he heard the name of Rolan’s master-to-be. “I’ve heard of him. Word in Waterdeep is he’s a bit of a cad, but you say he’s an accomplished wizard?”

“Of course he is! The greatest spellcaster along the Sword Coast. As if I’d settle for a lessor mentor,” Rolan said confidently, almost offended by Gale’s comments. 

“Malitas says the same… he’s not a big fan of Lorroakan. Though I was surprised when he said that, I always thought Lorroakan was supposed to be incredibly powerful,” Saff commented.

“He is incredibly powerful. Whoever this Malitas is clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Rolan said dismissively. 

“He’s my master. He’s from Baldur’s Gate as well, and he does know what he’s talking about,” she replied rather defensively. Though given what Gale had said about him in the past, there was the slightest bit of uncertainty in her voice.

“Malitas? Never heard of him,” Rolan said with a shrug, as if that proved he wasn’t worth listening to by virtue of not being famous. 

“He likes to keep a low profile.”

“He does? Strange. Any wizard worth his salt should be proud of his skills.” 

Gale decided to intervene before an argument started. 

“Well, if Lorroakan is as powerful as you say, then I’d very much appreciate it if you could arrange an introduction should we reach the city.”

“Ah yes, a grand idea! I would be happy to. Then you can both see how powerful he is for yourselves.”

Conversation after that, luckily, was a bit more light-hearted. They discussed magic, their favourite spells, and swapped stories of the various disasters they’d each caused during their time spent learning their craft. 

Eventually they left to mingle with the others. As the night wore on the wine continued to flow, and soon Alfira had gained a small group of dancers in front of her as she played. Luckily either she hadn’t drunk as much as the rest of them, or if she had, she was much better at playing while drunk than anyone had any right to be. 

“Come on, let’s dance!” Karlach called to them as she went to the dancefloor herself. Her enthusiasm was infectious it seemed, as she managed to get Halsin and Astarion up there with her too, though the significant amounts of wine they’d both had probably helped. 

Saff’s face lit up and she looked to Gale. 

“Let’s go!” she said excitedly, but he shook his head. 

“You go dance. I am not one for dancing - especially not when I’ve had quite this much to drink,” he said with a laugh. Though there was an ache in his heart as he said that - in his youth, back at the academy, he was quite the dancer. His was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff’s Ball. But in recent months, it was yet another thing he found he’d lost his love for. A melancholy mood came over him as he thought about it. 

“Aww, come on, please?” she begged, taking his arm and trying to pull him along, but he remained resolute. 

“Perhaps later. For now, I think I need to sit down. Besides, I’ve had you to myself all evening. The others deserve the pleasure of your company too.” She sighed and folded her arms. 

“Alright, later. I’ll hold you to that,” she said playfully, before joining Karlach and the others. 

Gale headed back to his tent and sat down on the blankets just outside the door. His shift in mood hung over him until he looked up to see the others and found a smile come to his lips as he saw Saff dancing, smiling widely as she lost herself in the music. He hadn’t realised how skilled a dancer she was and found himself mesmerised as he watched her, the elegant sway of her hips and flow of her arms, each twirl and movement flowing perfectly into the next. It was rude to stare, of course… but he couldn’t help himself now as he watched her dancing in the moonlight.

The songs flew by, until eventually it was just Saff and Karlach left out of their group. Astarion had retreated back to the wine and Halsin back to a quieter corner. Even Saff was beginning to tire, but Karlach looked like she could dance all night. 

“Ahh, Saff, I’m so happy!” she declared, holding her arms out wide and soaking in the atmosphere. “All these people, happy, because of us! It’s so good to be back here, in a place where good can still happen. Ten years… ten years I’ve been stuck in the Hells… but this… this is everything I dreamed of coming back to!” 

Saff could hear the emotion in her voice, even see tears forming in her eyes as she spoke. 

“Well… almost everything,” she said, lowering her arms and looking at Saff with a playful smile. “Now I just need to find a fire-retardant lover to get lost in all night.” She paused and glanced around with a cheeky grin. “Where’s Wyll?”

Saff couldn’t help but laugh.

“I feel, for his sake, I need to remind you he’s not fire-retardant,” she teased. 

“I know. Believe me, I know. Not a moment goes by where I don’t curse the world for it.”

“Maybe we need to find you guys a potion of fire resistance.” 

“You know, that might help,” she laughed, then went back to looking round. “Hang on - where is Wyll?” she asked, realising she couldn’t actually see him anywhere. Saff looked around too and realised he was nowhere to be seen. “Shit,” Karlach swore, suddenly feeling guilty. “I shouldn’t have left him…” 

Saff felt her heart sink too. Had Wyll really only been staying around cause Karlach had made him? 

“If he really doesn’t want to be here… then maybe it’s better to let that happen,” she said sadly. 

“Maybe… but just because he doesn’t want to be at the party, doesn’t mean he has to be on his own,” Karlach decided. “I’ll go find him.” 

“You sure? He wouldn’t want you to miss the party,” she said, knowing how much Karlach had been enjoying herself. 

“I’ve been partying all night. I’ve loved every moment of it, but right now… I want to be with him,” she said softly. The sincerity in her voice brought a smile to Saff’s lips. “Plus… I need to free you up to get someone else to dance with you,” she added playfully, throwing a glance in Gale’s direction.

“Pfft, I’ve tried. He won’t,” she said, shaking her head with a disappointed sigh. 

“Well you just haven’t tried hard enough! Plus, he’s had more to drink now,” she said with a grin. “Have a dance for me and Wyll. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that she gave her a wave and headed off to find him. Saff sighed softly and glanced around. Shadowheart and Astarion were sat on a rock, sharing what was presumably the good wine, looking like they were judging everyone in the camp. They probably were. Lae’zel was talking to one of the tieflings, Halsin was talking to Zevlor, and Gale was by himself. Well, she decided, it was time to remedy that. 

He looked up at her and smiled as she approached. 

“Done dancing?” he asked as she sat next to him, lifting the bottle of wine that was sat next to him to offer her some. 

“For now,” she answered, holding out her glass. He poured the wine, giving her a generous portion. “Is this a different wine to before?” she asked, giving it a sniff. 

“Yes. I finished the other bottle,” he admitted. She chuckled softly and took a sip. “Where did Karlach go?” he asked, having clearly watched their conversation just now. 

“To go find Wyll.” 

He paused, frowned, then looked around, surprised to see that Wyll had, in fact, disappeared. 

“Huh… I didn’t even notice him leave.” He sighed softly and looked into his drink. “I hope he’s ok…” 

“I think Karlach’s going to make sure of that,” she said with a confident smile. 

“Heh, I hope you’re right. Hard to believe those two were enemies less than a tenday ago. They’ve become fast friends,” he said, and the way he said it implied he was well aware of the budding relationship between them. 

“They’re not the only ones,” Saff said, looking up at him. It wasn’t something she’d usually have the courage to say, but the copious amounts of alcohol were certainly helping in that regard. He looked at her in surprise at first, until a smile came to his lips. 

“No… I suppose they’re not,” he said softly. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, before Gale spoke again.

“I never knew you were such a good dancer,” he complimented, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip.

“You think?” she asked, a slight blush on her cheeks as she looked at him. “Most definitely. Your dancing is like… poetry of the body. Beautiful, elegant… mesmerising, even…” he said softly. The blush on her cheeks deepened and she found herself almost too flustered to reply. 

“Well… next time, you’ll just have to join me,” she said, looking at him with a playful smile, hoping the blush wasn’t too obvious. 

“Hmm… you’re certainly tempting me to reconsider…” he mused, holding her gaze for a long moment… til he finally leant back a bit and lifted his cup to his mouth. “For now though, you look like you could do with a rest,” he said with a slight chuckle, which she had to agree with. 

The two of them sat quietly for a moment, enjoying the wine, the atmosphere, and each other’s company.

“Beautiful night, don’t you think?” Gale said after a while. “Nothing like a brush with death to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.” 

“It’s stunning,” she agreed, following his gaze up to the stars. “I used to love stargazing back home when I was younger, in the orphanage. One of the books had all the constellations. I’d always try to find them, but I never could,” she admitted, chuckling slightly. He glanced down at her a moment, then back up at the sky. 

“Which ones did you look for?” he asked. 

“The Centaur. The Woman Warrior. The Huntsman,” she said, listing the first few that came to mind. 

Gale looked up, his eyes scanning the sky. He then raised his hand and pointed upwards. 

“See that line of stars there?” he asked, carefully tracing the line with his finger. 

“Where?” she asked, trying to follow where he was pointing. He glanced down again, then carefully leant down til his head was next to hers, adjusting where he was pointing to match her viewpoint. He moved his arm behind her slightly to rest his weight on. 

“There,” he whispered, tracing the outline of the constellation once more. “Can you see it?”

There was a pause, then he heard a small gasp. 

“Yes!” she whispered, elation in her voice. He smiled to himself, happy to hear her excitement. 

“That’s the Warrior Woman. And over here,” he started, moving his hand to another part of the sky, “rides the Centaur. Do you see him?” 

Another pause, followed by another squeal of delight. 

“I do!” She could hardly believe it. It had felt impossible to find them on her own, but now they were pointed out, she could see them clear as day. “They’re beautiful.” 

“They are, aren’t they?” he agreed, lowering his hand, but staying close to her. “They say in another thousand years he will complete his voyage across the sky and cross swords with the Woman Warrior again, as they did a hundred years ago. Do you know what happened then?” he asked, glancing to her. She shook her head. He looked back to the stars as he spoke. “It is a story of two lovers who sought the destruction of Waterdeep, and the heroes who defended the city. They say it was the hottest day of the year as a great female warrior and a heroic centaur engaged in an arm-wrestle in one of Waterdeep’s most famous taverns, Selûne's Smile, run by an avatar of the goddess herself. The cosmic alignment magnified the power of their contest, which mixed with latent magic amplified by the heat, to tear open a portal. Through that portal came the lovers Aviss and Fellandar, ancient enemies of the city, to wreak a path of destruction. Khelben Arunsun, the Lord Mage of Waterdeep, urged the warrior and the centaur to continue their contest to keep the portal open while the heroes Kyriani Agrivar and Onyx the Invincible pursued the lovers. Luna herself, Selûne's avatar, joined the fight, and with their strength combined they were able to banish the lovers back from whence they came, and the city was saved. The moral of the story is always check the constellations before starting an arm wrestle.” 

She laughed at what had sounded like such a serious story followed by such a nonsensical moral. 

“Did that really happen?” she asked, looking at him. 

“So they say,” he answered, looking back to meet her eyes again. He still hadn’t moved away from where he’d positioned himself earlier, and as they looked into each other’s eyes now, they were close enough to feel the other’s breath on their skin. 

“Wild things happen in Waterdeep, don’t they?” she said softly, almost a whisper.

“More than you could believe… you’ll have to come and see for yourself,” Gale replied. He knew he shouldn’t let himself give into this, but he found himself getting lost in her eyes…

“I’d like that…” she whispered, getting equally lost in his eyes, slowly starting to lean closer…

Above them, across the camp, Shadowheart and Astarion watched. 

“This has got to be it,” Astarion said, not taking his eyes off them as he sipped his wine. 

“It’s not going to happen,” Shadowheart said confidently, only half watching them as she drank. “10 gold says they’re sharing a tent by the end of the night.” 

“Ohh, you’re on.”

[gladerscake]

Blind Spots

(Gally x Reader)

Another lengthy one, because self-restraint means nothing to me. Major fluff ahead. Hope you enjoy!

Gally was back, and it was nothing short of a miracle. All this time, for the last six months, your grieving heart had wept for him, quietly, while you did your best to put on a brave facade and seem alright on the outside. You always made sure that none of your friends could see exactly how much pain you were in. They didn’t need to know. They couldn’t have done anything to change it, and their looks of pity wouldn’t have helped in the slightest. So you kept it locked away, only letting it torment you at night, while everyone else were asleep and couldn’t hear you cry.

And now, seeing him again, alive and relatively unharmed… Truthfully, you were still processing it, but even through your heavy state of shock, every fiber of your being was reeling with joy and relief. You felt a little light-headed, but in the best possible way. Feeling his muscular arms around you again, his warm embrace, looking into his piercing bluish-green eyes that shined into yours with the same undiluted love they had back in the glade… It had almost made you dizzy, and you were surprised at yourself for not having passed out - for a moment there, it felt like you might have.

You never stopped loving Gally, not for one moment. Despite having been convinced you’d never see him again, there was no force in the world strong enough to make you forget him or even begin letting him go.

Having him back filled you with a happiness you had long given up on experiencing ever again. You hadn’t felt anything close to it since the day you thought you’d lost him. The worst day of your life, your most haunting memory… No. You refused to think about it again. It didn’t matter anymore, because Gally was alive, and that’s what you needed to focus on. The light inside you, the one you thought had died with him, was flickering back to life again. It was flourishing and spreading with each passing second, as you realized you were no longer bound to imagine a future that he wouldn’t be in. The bleak and cheerless future you had laid out for yourself was rapidly dispersing before your eyes, giving way to something brighter, something much more hopeful and promising.

However, as much as you wanted to let the euphoria of having Gally by your side again consume you entirely, you knew you couldn’t. Not completely. You still had a mission, a dangerous and inordinately challenging one - rescuing Minho. You could already feel what a “fun adventure” this was going to be…

You had just met Lawrence, and although he’d initially stated that only two people were allowed to be shown the way into the city, Gally managed to bargain for three. The third one being, unsurprisingly, you. He had just got you back, and he wasn’t ready to let you out of his sight, if he had anything to say about it. Not that you minded - you had no desire to be far away from him either. You’d had more than enough of that.

“So… That’s the dead boyfriend, huh?” Brenda asked with a cheeky smile as she walked beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Gally was walking ahead, leading you all somewhere only he knew, as you were making sure to keep up.

“Yeah… That’s him.” You responded, keeping your voice down, a slightly dazed grin pulling at the corner of your lips. ‘Not dead anymore’ your heart seemed to whisper in utter excitement.

“He’s different from what I’d imagined!” Your dark-haired friend mused out loud, causing your brow to quirk upwards as you shot her a confused glance.

“Different how?”

“Just different…” Brenda shrugged, her smile widening before she lightly punched you in the arm. “But I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really. Most people don’t get a second chance like this.”

Your grin grew brighter, eyes landing on Gally’s broad back as your abdomen swarmed with butterflies. You were well aware of how minuscule the odds were of a past love ‘coming back from the dead’. Yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel like, maybe, after all you and Gally had endured, you deserved that second chance.

“I know…”

Soon enough, Gally led you all into a closed-off area of the base, a rather filthy room with a large covered pothole in the middle and a ladder propped up against one of the walls. You took a moment to examine your surroundings, while the rest did the same, all exchanging equally questioning looks.

Before you could ask what this place was, you suddenly felt a large and warm hand descend onto your shoulder. There was no way for you to not know, immediately, who it belonged to. Your question died in your throat as you turned around to face him.

Gally squeezed your shoulder with as much comfort as he could manage, his bright eyes staring, deeply, into yours, making your heart leap. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell you and talk to you about, but the number of people surrounding you was preventing him from doing so. He so badly wanted to be alone with you. Even if just for a few minutes… All he could do was hope that there will be time for that later. You two had plenty to catch up on, and he couldn’t wait for a chance at it.

“You alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” He whispered, hoarsely, scanning you for any sign of even minor injury.

You breathed a slightly quivering chuckle, shaking your head and covering Gally’s hand with your own, the mere contact reminding you of the closeness you and him once shared… and will share again, now that he was back.

“I’m okay, definitely. Much better now…” You whispered in response, your eyes gleaming up at him. A small but sincere smile formed on his lips as he looked at you. He knew what you meant by that - he felt the exact same way. He had been afraid that after everything that’s happened, your feelings for him may have dimmed, or even worse, trickled away altogether. But with the way you were looking at him now, with such warmth and sheer affection, Gally felt those heartbreaking thoughts melt away. You still loved him. Just as much as he loved you. Even if only one person was genuinely happy to see him again, he couldn’t be more thankful that it was you.

Ignoring the presence of your friends, Gally pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. You bit down on your bottom lip, the sweet gesture almost bringing fresh tears to your eyes. However, the next moment, he drew back, gazing down at you “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to grab a couple things before we can go.”

You nodded, understandingly, giving his hand a soft squeeze before letting go “Of course.. We’ll be right here.”

Gally delivered you one more subtle smile before leaving you and the others to look around a bit.

“By the looks of it, we’re going down the bloody sewer.” Newt assumed, eyeing the pothole with slight confusion and just a hint of disgust.

“Wouldn’t be the worst place you’ve been to so far, no?” Jorge scoffed, arms folded on his chest as he stayed close to Brenda.

Frypan chuckled, lowly, glancing at the ladder “True that…”

Although most of your friends had seemingly chosen to look away and act oblivious to your and Gally’s little exchange, one person had not.

Thomas’ dark eyes darted to you, uneasily, every muscle in his body strained and jaw clenched, tensely, as he nudged you in the side.

“Y/N… Can we talk for a second?” He all but grunted, clearing his throat.

“No.” The blatant response tumbled from your lips without hesitation, despite the calmness of your tone.

You already knew what was on his mind. You didn’t want to hear it. Thomas was a close friend and very dear to your heart, but this wasn’t something he had a say in. You knew how he felt about Gally, so naturally, the thought of you two together again did not particularly thrill him. Nonetheless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. If Thomas had a problem with it, then that’s just something he would have to learn to deal with.

“Y/N…” Thomas tried again, more insistently this time “Please…”

You felt him grip your forearm, not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to let you know that he needed to speak with you, now, and he wouldn’t let go until you at least attempted to hear him out.

Drawing in a heavy sigh, you shot him a sharp pointed look.

“Fine.” You muttered, curtly. You decided you would give him a chance to just get it off his chest. Nothing he’d say could possibly change your mind, regardless.

With that, Thomas briskly slipped out of the room, as you reluctantly followed him. Once you two were a few feet away from the others, you halted to a stop, not wanting to go too far.

“Can’t imagine what’s so urgent.” You huffed, quietly, your arms crossing as you stared, expectantly, at your friend. “Well? Come on, let’s hear it.”

Thomas frowned, his features painted with exasperation “Y/N, before you go running back to him-“

“I already did.” You hastily cut him off, trying to keep your expression as placid as you could. “Thomas, there’s nothing you can do. You know how I feel.”

He grimaced, his mind refusing to wrap around it. What was it about Gally? How could you so easily forget what had happened and welcome him back with open arms?

“Seriously…? After what he did?” He stared at you in disbelief, dark brown eyes narrowing.

You gritted your teeth, staring right back at him, endeavouring to suppress your own bubbling comtempt for the subject “What happened to Chuck wasn’t Gally’s fault.”

“He shot him, Y/N!”

“It was an accident, Thomas!” Your voice had risen, finally, your hands clenching into fists. You had had this exact argument with him before and you couldn’t stand hearing it for one more second. “Whether you want to admit it or not! You were there - you know exactly what happened!”

Thomas, much to your surprise, fell silent. His mouth twitched as he looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense. Yet, deep down, even though he despised the idea of conceding, a small part of him knew you weren’t entirely wrong.

You took advantage of his silence and continued. You had every intention of standing your ground on this. “Gally never would’ve hurt Chuck! He wasn’t aiming for him! And what part of “he was stung” keeps getting lost on you? Have you forgotten what that does to a person? Because I haven’t!”

“Yeah, he was stung, but he could have-“

“No, he couldn’t have!” Your hands were practically shaking by now, a lump had formed in your throat “He wasn’t himself, he had no control over what he was doing! You just want to blame him, because it’s easy!”

Thomas glowered “I don’t get it… I really don’t, what is it about him?”

“What is it about Teresa?” You countered, not missing a beat.

At that, Thomas trailed off, the familiar pang of hurt shooting through his limbs. Something that occurred every time he thought about her, since the day of her disastrous betrayal.

You huffed, knowing you had struck a nerve, but also knowing that you were right “Come on, look at me and tell me that if she showed up right now, looked at you with those big blue eyes and told you how sorry she was, how much she regretted the whole thing, you wouldn’t immediately want her back.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You would!” You noted the way Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, as well as the way his knuckles were already turning white. “You would, Thomas… You damn well know it.”

He shook his head, the inner conflict swirling prominently in his dark eyes as his tone dipped “She would have to do a lot more than apologize.”

“Yeah, but you still wouldn’t turn her away.” You retorted, firmly, your penetrating gaze not leaving him.

Silence. Heavy, deafening silence that spoke for itself.

Thomas remained unmoving, his shoulders sagging as he peered at you, solemnly. You didn’t break the agitated eye contact, merely taking a step back.

“That’s what I thought. I guess we both have our blind spots.”

The dark-haired boy looked away from your eyes, finding himself tragically at a loss for words. He hated that you were right. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he knew that even after what Teresa had done, he still cared for her. If he were to see her again… He highly doubted he would forgive her instantly, especially while WICKED still had Minho, but if she were to have a change of heart and choose to be on their side again… He knew he would have an agonizingly hard time discarding her.

You watched Thomas’ demeanor shift, his tense expression softening as he exhaled in defeat. Evidently the thought of trying to get you to keep your distance with Gally was no longer the dominant one on his mind. You took no joy in fighting with him, but Thomas needed to understand exactly where you stood, on all counts. You didn’t need his approval on this. You and Gally were together, and if Thomas, as your friend, couldn’t be happy for you, then the least he could was stay out of it.

“At least mine isn’t torturing our friend right now.” You gritted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas heard it clearly, though. His gaze shot up to meet yours once more, and you almost winced at the miserable glint in his eyes. You suddenly felt like you had just kicked a puppy. Was that a little harsh? Maybe. Was it accurate? Unfortunately, it was.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel bad, your compassion prevailing. You and Thomas may have had moments where you didn’t see eye to eye, but he was a good and loyal friend to you. There was no need to hit him where it hurt.

“I’m sorry…” You breathed out, giving him a forlorn, apologetic look.

Thomas only shrugged in response, eyes momentarily averting to the ground “No, you’re right. I just…” He inhaled, deeply, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his head in irritation “I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

You delivered him a soft smile, touched by his concern, even though there was no need for it. At least not in that regard “Gally is not going to hurt me.”

Your friend responded with a tight-lipped smile that read ‘I hope that’s true’, before turning away and beginning to walk back to the room the rest of your friends were in. You were about to follow him, until… you realized how badly you needed just a few minutes alone with Gally, before you, him, Thomas, and Newt would venture into the city. You didn’t know just how dangerous the path was, and you couldn’t bear the idea of something terrible happening along the way. Sure, you could be optimistic and wait until after you all got back, but… could you? Could you really? You had missed him so much, and so far you’d only managed to say a few words to each other.

Oh, screw it. You were not asking for much. You needed it, so you were going to take it.

With a quick look-around, you turned on your heels, following in the direction you thought you’d seen Gally go. Sadly, as you reached the spot where he had disappeared from your line of vision, you had no idea where to go from there.

People were bustling all around you, some reloading their rifles, others fixing their gas masks. In one of the rebels, you recognized the guy that had stood behind Lawrence, while you all were being introduced to him, earlier. You thought his name was… Jasper? Whatever. Clearly he knew Gally, so you hoped he would know where he would have gone to.

You cleared your throat, striding up to him with as much confidence as you had been able to gather “Hi! I’m sorry, do you know where Gally’s room is? Or… wherever it is that he sleeps around here?”

The rugged man looked you up and down, a strangely amused smirk curving his slightly crooked mouth. It confused you and almost made you feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make you retreat without an answer.

“You must be the girlfriend? From the maze? The one he wouldn’t shut up about finding?” He rasped, snickering under his breath.

You relaxed, inwardly, glad that you had apparently picked the right person to ask. Also, hearing that Gally had mentioned you during his time here, undoubtedly made you smile on the inside.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me. So where can I find him?”

The rebel chuckled, pointing upwards to the corridor a level above that led to the more secluded parts of the base “Right up there, seventh door on the left.”

You muttered a quiet ‘Thank you’ before scurrying off, hoping you would, in fact, find him there. Soon, you made your way down the corridor, your gaze bouncing from one door to the next one. Five, six… seven.

Your heartbeat suddenly began quickening as you stared at the tattered, scratched-up door in front of you. You allowed yourself to take a deep breath before finally knocking.

“Yeah?”

You exhaled in relief, a smile instantly making its way onto your lips. Gally’s voice. He was in there.

“Gally…? It’s me. Can I come in?”

After a short pause, he replied.

“Of course. I’m just about done here.”

You pushed the door open with a slight ‘creak’, and there you were met with a sight that brought a burgeoning blush to your cheeks. Gally’s bare back was turned to you as he was changing, about to reach for a grey hoodie that was draped over an old wooden chair. You could see his toned muscles tensing, every crevice generously offered to your view, as you felt your face grow hotter. He looked even stronger than he did back in the glade, his form even more glorious than you remembered it.

You didn’t get to remain in your trance for too long though, as Gally slipped the hoodie over his head and turned around to face you, a loving grin playing at his lips.

“How’d you know where to find me?” He arched a curious brow, making his way over until he was standing right in front of you.

You smiled and took a step closer, minimising the distance between the two of you and gently taking his hand in yours. Your fingers interlocked perfectly, like puzzle pieces. “Jasper told me.”

Gally chuckled at that, eyes widening in slight surprise “You know his name?”

You shrugged “I pay attention.”

His grin widened, warmth filling his eyes as he gazed down at you, giving your hand a tight, grounding squeeze “You always have.”

Your heart raced faster as you raked your gaze over every feature of his face, each faint freckle on his cheeks, his plump lips, his vibrant eyes… You couldn’t help yourself as you threw your arms around him, Gally not wasting a second in wrapping you up in his strong embrace. He held you so fervently, so close to his body, you thought he was almost lifting you off the ground. So many emotions swirled between you two - the relief of both of you somehow having survived every hardship up until this point, the joy of having found your way back to one another, the desperate urge to never let go of each other again, the fear of somehow getting separated along the way of whatever came next. You felt a small shudder pass through your body as you clung to him for dear life, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you… Gally, I’ve missed you so much…!” You uttered on half a breath, succumbing to the compelling warmth that emanated from him.

“I’ve missed you, too, Y/N… More than anything.” He whispered so close to your ear, his arms around you tightening as he slowly rocked you from side to side, making sure you felt how much he meant it.

Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, in spite of your best attempts at keeping them at bay “I’d spent months thinking you were… Dead… I-I thought it was over, you were gone, I’d never see you again…!”

Gally released a fervid sigh, at last picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around his midriff as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder “I know, baby, I know… But I’m okay, I’m right here. And you are, too…”

You stifled a sob, pressing your slightly trembling lips to his temple, basking in the feeling of his heated breath fanning your skin “I’m scared I’m gonna wake up any moment, and you won’t be there. It’s already happened too many times…”

“Won’t happen this time. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N…” He promised, lifting his head from your neck so that he could meet your glimmering eyes “I’m not gonna screw it up twice.”

You let out a quivering breath as you gazed into the eyes that reflected all the unyielding love you harbored. Every nerve in your body pulled you into Gally, every thump of your heart resonated within him as he held you in his arms. This was the feeling you thought had been lost forever to you. Something so powerful and burning that no other force could compare to it. He was the piece of your heart that had been ripped out all those months ago, the piece that was now being graciously returned to its rightful place.

With a tenderness no one else but you has ever shown him, you cupped his face in between your soft palms and leaned in, your lips pressing fully and ardently against his.

The long-overdue kiss instantly clouded Gally’s senses, his heart hammering against his rib cage as his lips reciprocated, moving against yours with enough passion and longing to make your head spin. Your legs tightened around his midsection as his left hand moved lower to grasp at your hip, endeavouring to bring you even closer, as if that was possible. Gally swallowed the soft whimper that escaped you as he kissed you deeper, all his conscious thought paralyzed by the enrapturing sensation of your lips on his. He didn’t believe anything in the world tasted sweeter. He had spent countless nights dreaming about the day he would get to do this again. And now that he had you back, just like this, so close, so yearning, so thoroughly his… he wished it would never end.

Your fingertips threaded through the short sandy strands of his hair, your body feeling weightless, almost floating. You bit back a mewl as Gally’s hand reached up to your face, his calloused fingers brushing your cheek and trailing down your neck in a feather-light caress. Every bit of your skin felt so sensitive to his touch. After a few more blissful seconds, you finally broke away from his lips, both of you panting heavily, catching your breath from the heavenly feeling of your kiss.

Gally rested his forehead against yours, his mouth still mere inches away from your own “I’m never losing you again… Never, you hear me?”

You nodded, frantically, holding onto his neck with both hands, his closeness filling you with a searing light. It exhilarated you, made you feel like you could do anything, overcome anything, as long as you two were together.

“Sounds good to me…”

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [4]

(GIF credit: @teamfreewill-imagine)

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 6,107

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you. (Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.)

Chapter Summary: You offer yourself as bait for a shapeshifter hunt. Things do not go as planned.

Warnings: canon level violence, language, idiots in love, mutual pining, huffy!sam, protective!sam, slight angst?, slow burn, fluff

A/N: i am SO sorry for the wait (story of my life) but to make up for it, look, 6k words! (yeah i’m sorry about that too, i don’t know what happened there.) written for @tvdspngirl314‘s birthday writing event with the prompt “You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone?” which is bolded in the fic. this also fills a square for @spnfluffbingo​!

Square Filled: Rescue Mission

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The fourth time was all you. Dean barely had to lift a finger. The result, however, was far more traumatic than he had planned and rather emphatically revealed the magnitude of his brother’s feelings toward you.

Much like the previous attempts, there was a case: a shapeshifter going after women who conveniently happened to fit your description. The strategy was obvious, and you’d leaped at the opportunity to both make yourself useful and hopefully take the place of what would have otherwise been the next innocent civilian victim. But of course, Sam resisted at first.

“No. Absolutely not! We don’t know enough about this guy for you to just jump into his waiting arms, Y/N!” The fervent indignation in his tone and body language was palpable. Sam was rarely one to raise his voice or sport much of a temper at all really, but lately these heated outbursts seemed to be occurring more frequently, and frankly you were getting sick of it. The false hope they momentarily granted you through the notion that perhaps he cared about you as more than a friend was one thing. What’s more, the way his voice lowered half an octave combined with the sight of his flared nostrils, puffed chest, and straining jaw always seemed to have a sideways effect on you, in that it was impossible to keep your attention on his words alone. But boy did you try.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.  

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?” 

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

STTC TAG TEAM: @matchesarelit​ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ @gia-25​ @laurakirsten0502​ @ruined-by-destiel​ @sunflowersandotherthings​ @acertainhero @440mxs-wife​ @thatdisasteromni @spnjediavenger​ @justagirlinafandomworld​ @moostress19​ @sweetjedi​​ @stunudo​​

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @swiftlymoniquesblog @moosewinchester @sams-sass​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​​ @jotink78 @winifrede @writingforthelonelysoul @turtletaylor98 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons​ @peridottea91​ @tvdspngirl314​ @idreamofplaid​​ @samsgirl2020​​ @katwed​​

TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

[amazingphilza]

maniac :: cc!tommy x reader

angst (?) , platonic (?) , gender neutral ! ib: conan gray’s maniac

this is satire & note that i write the reader to be a few months younger than tommy (besides that, i think it is fully inclusive !)

synopsis : you put all your hard work towards a useless crush. with no expectation for reciprocated feelings in the first place, it still all ends in a bittersweet slap to reality.

you grew up with minecraft and it was an understatement to say it was part of your childhood

even years later, you still maintained interested in the game

it wasn’t just a simple video game, the community inspired you to do many things

you aspired to be like the creators you watched at a young age like sky, dantdm, cupquake, stampy, and many more

making people happy and entertained was a dream

and when minecraft slowly began trending again in 2019, you started making your own content whenever you felt like it out of fun

you never got much views but it was an enjoyable experience nonetheless

but it wasn’t until the first minecraft monday you decided to push a bit more with your hobbies and worked hard to make it somewhere

however balancing your passions with school wasn’t the easiest

given, you were still only around 15 and your content wasn’t even that good

with not much of a goal or plan with your youtube channel, you fell out of interest eventually

you loved minecraft but you always a rocky relationship with it; getting back into it for a few months then pretending it never really existed for another few

besides the occasional videos you watched in your pass time, you didn’t stay that updated

then lockdown happened

it changed everything and even got you regressing back to old interests

soon enough you were back to minecraft

there was so much to catch up on

hermitcraft season 7 just started, there was minecraft championships, and smp earth and smp live, and so much more to look forward to watching

you were a bit late on both of the smps but your interest peaked specially towards smp earth and it didn’t stop you from watching the past videos

you first gravitated towards a certain youtuber’s videos first since you remember stumbling onto his videos before from your recommended page; wilbur soot

besides recognizing him from his you laugh you lose series and making parody-type of songs, you didn’t know much

however with a few clicks, you had binge watched his smp earth series effortlessly

you found yourself falling down the endless hole, finding more creators to watch through wilbur

one in particular caught your eye in an interesting way

tommyinnit

my god, how can someone be so annoying and pushy in these videos? like shut up already

and to find out he was barely months older than you frustrated you

you just wanted to be better in some way

if someone like him could be popular, why can’t you? yelling at others and causing problems didn’t seem that hard

and so you went back to working hard on your previously failed youtube channel but this time with a goal; be better than tommyinnit

it was a weird aspiration in your head but it worked

he was your age and successful, why need a better motivator?

tommy wasn’t the sole reason why you strive to make content since you truly did want to create videos to entertain people like the youtubers you originally grew up watching

and with the amount of free time you had, you thoroughly analyzed his content; what was the most popular, how he streamed, edited his videos, everything

you just completely studied the algorithm in general

along the way, tommy’s personality grew on you

tommy was undoubtedly a very loud and energetic person but you became fond of his ambitions

you understood why he was popular at such a young age; he was a natural entertainer

your spite towards the boy turned into a hope

a hope to be at par with him someday and even be mutuals

and it was like your dreams were suddenly manifested into existence

you gained a large following in the early months of lockdown and even was recognized to be apart of minecraft championships

it felt like yesterday that you were just watching your favorite youtubers livestream the same competition

and now you were situation in a team to play yourself for the first time instead of being a viewer for once

not to mention, with tommyinnit as a teammate

how did you manage to get so lucky?

under the excitement, you felt beyond never nervous waiting in the empty discord call for your team to join you to practice the mini-games

in the middle of gathering your thoughts together, you heard a sound from discord signaling someone joined the call

“uh, hello?”

you heard the familiar british accent you spent hours listening to from countless streams and videos

“h-hi! i’m y/n, how are you?”

you hoped tommy couldn’t hear the strain in your voice due to fighting your nerves, but you quietly celebrated that you didn’t freeze up altogether

“oh i’m good, thank you. and i’m tommy by the way, this is the first time we’re speaking, yeah?”

“yep! it’s nice to meet you”

“yeah, i’ve seen your name around the timeline a few times, you seem cool”

oh my god what?

“thanks! um i actually really enjoy your content not gonna lie”

“oh wow, good shit!”

and the conversation smoothly went on, bouncing back and forth between you two before your other two teammates joined the call

once everyone was situated, you decided to start streaming since it was your first mcc and you wanted a vod of you practicing to look at later on as a memory

your chat immediately noticed how much you were enjoying yourself, especially after all the short stories of talking about who inspired you in the past

the smile plastered on your face never left

after stream and your other teammates went offline, it was you and tommy left in the call once together again

“it was nice talking to you tommy! and the practice was really fun, i cant wait for the actual competition!”

“yeah definitely, we’ll for sure place high”

“hopefully. it’s my first time and i hope i don’t cost us the dub”

“nah, you think so? i mean rt and plumbella are also our team mates so you know, it’s all for fun in the end”

you knew tommy was implying the teamwork wasn’t going to be the best compared to the other teams but at least in the end you’ve both made a new friend

“yeah you’re right!”

“anyway it’s getting late imma hop off”

“okay tommy, talk to you soon?”

“yep!”

“alright byee”

“bye!”

the moment he left the call, you felt a sense of relief before a small wave of sadness took over

you wanted to continue talking to tommy but you knew you had other responsibilities to tend to

for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking of the call and mcc practice

the funny jokes, singing random songs, screaming for no reason, everything

it even kept you awake until the early morning

you buried your head in a pillow and screamed into it after realization hit

y/n no

no no no no no no no

you tried to recall anything that remotely related your other teammates which you remembered that didn’t include tommy

even if it was a few hours ago, you couldn’t pin point something specific

no

i must just be forgetful, right?

what the hell did rt and plumbella even say that whole call?

you vividly remembered everything with tommy and it was clear to you why

surely not

with putting a hand on your chest above your heart, you confirmed that you couldn’t lie to yourself based on the rapid speed

you liked tommy for a good while but it hadn’t clicked to you until now

eventually you fell asleep due to exhaustion but that’s to say you didn’t do so without imagining spending more time with tommy

ever since that day, time went by in a flash

your team didn’t do the best in mcc but it had been a while since then to have that as a concern

sadly you and tommy didn’t talk as often as you hoped but that didn’t make you have less feelings for him

on some days you felt bad since you thought you didn’t know enough about him to even be allowed to crush on him

it was a bit unprofessional but you were nearly 16, it’s normal to have these little crushes right?

eventually time came to rescue when tommy asked you if you wanted to accompany him in the dream smp

undoubtedly, you said yes

and for the few months during summer, it was where you two became even closer than before

however, once both of you two had to go back and attend school, it was harder to catch up with each other

even on calls together off stream, the occasional snapchat notification going off irked you in a way you couldn’t explain

only winter break was the small pause on your disappointment

but even then, it was a slow but steady hill of repressed sadness and frustration until early spring of the following year

you had hoped 2021 would be better than last year but after scrolling through twitter one day and seeing stans making rumors about how tommy had a crush on one of his classmates gave you the same pain you felt when school started last fall

you dreaded to look over at tommy’s most recent story time stream vod where all the gossip arose from; it was him stumbling over his words with the mention of a girl during a certain part

jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe the way you felt

you would never go out of your way to make tommy reciprocate the feelings you had for him

and if he liked someone else the way you saw him, you wouldn’t mind

having a crush is ecstatic, and if he has someone like that too, you should be happy

right?

you tried

what finally broke you was seeing a tiktok a few weeks later of tommy in college with eryn and another girl talking

you didn’t know how she looked like or anything but you wanted to sob

good for him

she didn’t even say much in the video and you dont know enough about tommy’s personal life to jump to conclusions like this

you knew you were acting irrational and you couldn’t be upset at tommy for something he couldn’t control

if anything, you never directly showed interest in him

you didn’t want to in the first place

it was a bad idea from the start

you looked back at the past year and all your intentions

what kind of sick fanfiction did you think you were living?

becoming a content creator, hoping to blow up, just to talk to a big youtuber you had a crush on?

oh my god

y/n what is wrong with you?

listen to yourself, y/n

you need to get some help

whether tommy was dating or even just had interest someone was none of your business

you had to move on no matter what it was and be good and supportive friend

it was dreadful to get over a stupid crush like this but after so much work you put in, you gave some sympathy for yourself

in a friend perspective, you were happy with whatever tommy did and was satisfied your friendship together, but you hadn’t realized how much you gambled from the beginning

and just for a crush?

you couldn’t comprehend how far you gone because you fancied someone

it wasn’t like anyone could get famous and become a popular content creator either

and now with you being on the dream smp along with a successful youtube channel at 16? you were grateful something pushed you enough to work this hard

but you’d never forget the fact everything that lead up to this point was a crush on no other than tommyinnit which first spurred from complete spite

“who’s the one better off now?” your thoughts mocked you from the complete irony

sigh

y/n, you maniac

[pikemoreno]

lucky

pairing: marcus moreno x gn!reader

request: from @chibi-liz05​ “Can I request a Marcus Moreno fic (or ficlet, or drabble) where either Marcus or reader gets hurt (not seriously hurt) and end up in a med bay, kinda woozy from pain meds and they have a funny and/or cute conversation when the other one goes to check on the one hurt? Please.”

warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, death. it starts out pretty darn angsty, but gets silly and fluffy i promise. these two are hella married.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: honestly this is nothing like you asked for until the end? but this lil drabble idea inspired this whole one shot so i hope you enjoy what you helped my brain create? i loved this, needless to say.

i love this himbo and i’m so happy to write for him.

And thank you for the medical advice to @disgruntledspacedad! Thanks for helping me choose the right drug! 😆

wanna join a taglist? | masterlist

This was Marcus’s least favorite part of his job. 

As the newly deemed Director of the Heroics, he was the one to decide who went out on what mission when and with who. Normally it wasn’t too tall of an order. After all, he was chosen as director for good reason. He was perfect for the job. He was smart, organized, resourceful, and tried in everything to understand people-- whether that be in their personal habits or in their superpowered strengths. He was often commended for his ability to form the perfect teams for whatever job arose; and it came pretty naturally, it really did. 

That is, until emotion got involved, until personal bias compromised his decision making.

He was determined to not let you go on the mission, absolutely not. The band of powered individuals the team was going after were incredibly dangerous and unpredictable.They’d been a problem for months and this mission was all or nothing. The high stakes and vulnerable position made him incredibly reluctant to make you a part of the team that was heading out under the cover of night to apprehend them. When he didn’t name you among them, he was immediately countered by the rest of the heroes in the room about the choice. 

By all the accounts they were right. Given the tactics of the mission at hand, your teleportation abilities were perfect for the job. And if he was being even a little more honest, he’d agree with Miracle Guy that not sending you with them was a “disservice to the team.” It was and he knew it. In a very un-Marcus Moreno move, he was making the completely wrong choice and he wasn’t going to let the sound judgement of anyone else change his mind.

“Psion is not going and that is final,” he boomed. The room became deathly silent. “Now, go get ready. You leave in 20.” But no one moved, no one could. They were glued to the floor, watching their unflappable leader become uncharacteristically flapped. 

Marcus was the one to stomp out of the room first and you followed him without hesitation.

“Marcus,” you called, nearly running to keep up with long strides. “Marcus!” 

He didn’t even deign to turn around.

In a blink you were now in front of Marcus, hands out to stop him from continuing on without talking to you.

“No teleporting outside of work, Psion” he snapped lowly, but he still obliged your silent request and remained in front of you. You blinked at the small outburst.

“Mind losing the ‘tude so we can talk like adults?” You countered. Marcus lowered his head and whispered an apology. At that you stepped closer to him, your hands coming to rest on his tense shoulders in a soothing manner. “What’s bothering you, love? You know you can talk to me. This isn’t like you at all.”

When his eyes met yours again they were pained.

“It’s too dangerous,” was all he could get out at the moment. His exhale was unsteady as he leaned in, his forehead meeting yours in a much more “Marcus” gesture that brought you both back down to earth.

You sighed, fingers carding through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Of course it is. It always is.”

“Not like this,” he countered, biting his lip. “These guys are no joke.”

“Neither am I,” you grinned, tapping his nose with your own before pulling back to look at his face in full. He laughed a little, but it wasn’t whole-hearted, you saw it in his eyes.

“And I trust you. I do. I know you’re capable. I just--”

“Worry?” 

“Yeah, that.” His eyebrows were furrowed. You softly ran a thumb across the harsh lines it made, smoothing them and making him smile.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say nothing is going to happen. Because it might.” He winced at the words, not wanting to think too hard on what “it” could be. “But I’m prepared and so is the rest of the team. We’re gonna watch each other’s backs like we always do and getting everyone out safely is going to be our priority over completing the mission. It’s going to be business as usual and it’s going to be OK. I’m going to be OK. You’ve gotta let me go. They need me out there tonight.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Just… Be careful. Be ready in 10.” You sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You kissed him. “It’s gonna be fine.” He kissed you. “We’ve got ‘em this time. I know it.” One last kiss, strong and lingering. You tilted your head, an invitation-- no, a plead-- for a deeper kiss, which he obliged before being the one to break it. 

“Go,” he murmured, “Or you won’t make it before they leave.” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled through the sudden onset of nerves before turning and walking down the hallway to join up with the rest of the team.

***

That had been hours ago. Now Marcus was in command with a skeleton crew, the late hours of the assignment sending most of the support and technical team home. He quickly decided that was probably for the best. The sweet little interns did not need to see their mentor so stressed and antsy. No, he had to be “on” for them, he had to be the Marcus Moreno. And he couldn’t be that right now. Right now he was an anxious husband and teammate. 

“Where are they now, Connie?” he asked the poor woman at the comms desk behind him for the upteenth time that hour.

“Trackers say they’re still in the hanger, sir. Last update was that they had the grunts and were waiting for the ring leader to respond to their distress call.”

He wasn’t responding. It’d been two hours. And that was a major cause for concern.

“Tell them to just bring who they have back here and we’ll keep searching for him. This is still a win as far as I’m concerned.”

The man who was on comms moved to press the talk button to speak to the team, but the comm crackled to life before he had the opportunity. 

“It’s an ambush!” Miracle Guy yelled from the other side, “We’re sitting ducks out here!”

Marcus’ heart dropped into his stomach. 

“Go! Go! Get back to the-” He heard your panicked voice call out, the sentence interrupted by a cry of pain. 

The room spun. Marcus knew he was yelling but he couldn’t hear a word of what he said. It all just sounded like white noise now, mixing with the jumbled thoughts in his head and the ringing in his ears. He must’ve said something right though, because everyone was working. One was arranging a rescue, one was calling out the vitals of the team via the trackers on their wrists-- everything seemed fine by the tone of voice, but Marcus couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t grasp a word that was said to him. He was totally on autopilot, only able to respond in vague nods of yes or no. 

“Hey,” one voice next to him cut through the fog and he looked up to Lucas, the man who ran comms, “They’re going to be ok.”

Marcus’s response was non-committal, not wanting to pull the young man down to share his current state of mind, but not allowing himself to share in his confident optimism either.

The next hour went by in a whirlwind and the next thing he knew, Marcus was downstairs in the medical wing waiting on you and your team to arrive. He’d been in this position before and the thought of it made his throat close up. The images flashed through his mind of a gurney and too much blood and a confused little girl and black clothing on a rainy day in April. 

He closed his eyes harder as if to block it all out. 

No, it couldn’t be like last time.

It was then that he heard the distinct sound of the sliding doors opening and the murmur of a small group of people. His eyes shot open and, though he stood to his feet, he felt that he could collapse in relief. There was no gurney. Minimal blood-- just a couple of cuts on your face. You were hobbling in, arm around Miracle Guy as he helped you keep pressure off of your left leg. Your face was pained, which probably should have concerned him more, but he was just too happy to see you upright… Breathing. As long as he had that, you could get through anything else together. 

He watched as the medical team surrounded all of you, asking questions, prodding delicately at injuries. Marcus could vaguely hear your voice cutting in and out through it all. 

“Super strength… Kicked… Broken.” 

They had asked you a couple more unheard questions that you responded to in a simple yes or no and then they were leading you to sit on one of the beds. He watched as you went, noticing the way you were looking around for… Something.

Oh.

He smiled.

You were looking for him.

In all his panic and then relief, it hadn’t occurred to him that you would want to see him just as badly in your current state. His heart warmed at the way your tired eyes lit up when they met his. He all but ran to you. 

“Hey baby,” he cooed, leaning in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. He’d never been more in awe of you, that you were real, that way you were his, that he could kiss you freely. When he pulled away he observed your injuries closer. Head wounds were always scary amounts of bloody, but he could see that all of the cuts were minor. He brushed a strand of hair away from where sweat and blood had plastered it to your forehead. “What happened? How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you hissed as a stab of pain surged through your leg. He looked down to observe it. His immediate diagnosis wasn’t a good one. It was terribly hard to break a femur, but he was certain this was exactly what it would look and feel like. “Some super-strength asshole kicked me in the thigh to knock me down and--” You winced again. “They think she broke my femur, and I would have to agree.”

“I have to say I’m thinking that too,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed your forehead in between the cuts.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that tried to keep me from going. I forced you to let me go.”

“I should’ve stood my ground and had you and the team be mad at me,” he said completely seriously. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You side-eyed him, but smiled through the words. One of the medical staff returned at that moment, bringing over supplies to clean your cuts and asking if you’d like something for the pain while they got prepped for surgery. You nodded eagerly. 

“I’ll take this over,” Marcus said, hands open to take the first aid kit, “If you want to go get that?”

“Oh, sir I couldn’t ask you to--” The young woman gawked, slightly unbelieving that her boss’s boss’s boss would volunteer to do her job.

“You’re not asking me, I’m asking you.”

“A-- Yes, right away.” She handed him the kit and seemed to flee his presence to get an IV ready. You sat in silence a few moments as he prepared everything. He seemed lost, even in this small task. It took him longer than it should’ve to get his ducks in a row.

“Someone’s a little edgy,” you prodded, watching as too-intense eyes focused on cleaning dried blood from your forehead. He shook his head, eyes softening, but maintaining their focus. The whole endeavor was very clearly an attempt at keeping his hands as busy as his mind was. 

“I’d thought I‘d lost you. I thought...” His jaw tightened-- and it wasn’t due to the effort of wiping up blood. You stopped his hand from continuing its ministrations, lacing your fingers together.

“That it was all happening again?” you whispered. 

“It was like deja vu, baby. Everything was just like before.” The last word almost came out like a whimper. 

“But it’s not. I’m right here. I’m ok.” You brought your forehead to meet his comfortingly. The cuts stung just a little at the touch, but you remained there with him, feeling a deep, grounding breath fan lightly across your face.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You kissed his nose and pulled away as you heard the medic return with the Versed for the pain. Marcus stayed right by your side as you were put on the IV, a hand staying firmly on yours. Which more for him than for you if he was honest. It brought him back to reality and out of his head. He no longer had to imagine the worst, because the best had happened. You were really there. It wasn’t a repeat of the aching horror of seven years before, the day that still had you shaking him awake from unspoken nightmares. You’d made it home to him and Missy-- but he was going to be hard-pressed to go against his better judgment again, no matter how much the team needed you.

“Alright, you’ll start to feel it in just a few seconds. We’ll be back soon to take you into surgery, ok?” the medic explained to you as the IV was in place. You nodded. 

“In the meantime, let me keep working on this,” Marcus gestured to the bandages in the kit. As he got to work, he watched the look in your eyes totally change, the Versed taking effect. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, covering the cut that just barely grazed your right eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you sighed dreamily in a total demeanor change. The whole room lit up in his eyes. Marcus grinned at the way your posture slumped just slightly in relaxation. “And how are you?” you winked. Oh, this was going to be fun. He really needed to keep you talking.

“I’m doing great. Happy to be here with you, sweetheart. Now, sit still while I take care of this last cut,” he cooed. 

“Ok,” you giggled. “What a charmer.” 

“I try my best, darling.” He played along, enjoying the way the Versed had turned you into a starstruck girl with a crush.

“Oh noooo,” you squeaked suddenly.Marcus panicked, checking you over quickly for further injury. 

“What is it? Are you ok?” 

But you only grabbed his left hand, holding it up.

“You’re married!” 

Marcus blinked. What was in that stuff they’d given you? You put your face in your hands and Marcus tried to contain his laughter at the way your voice was muffled by your fingers. “You’ve been so nice and caring! I wanted to ask you on a dateeee. I’m so sorry if I came on too strong.”

“Baby,” he called with a sweet lilt to his voice-- still trying to hold in a laugh. 

“You shouldn’t call me that,” you sighed sadly, pouting, “You’re married. We can’t be together.” 

“Of course I’m married,” he held your left hand up now, “I’m married to you, you goof.” You blinked at the silvery ring on your finger. 

“Oh!” you practically yelled, “That’s so cool!” Marcus’ heart warmed at the way your eyes lit up at the realization. Even drugged out of your mind you were excited to be with him. He couldn’t help but feel likewise.

“I agree,” he smiled, “It’s very cool.” He intertwined his fingers and yours. 

“I’m so lucky,” you grinned toothily in response. It was so unlike the smiles you usually gave him: too exaggerated and, in a word, dopey. But it held the same affection. 

“No, I’m definitely the lucky one,” he countered. Your grin faltered slightly as you grew sleepy-- another possible effect of the Versed, he guessed. “Now, go ahead and lay back for me ok? I’ll see you as soon as you’re out of surgery.” You nodded in agreement and then right off to sleep.

Oh, he could not wait for you to get out so he could tell you about just how “lucky” the two of you were.

[snowywrites]

Natsuki x comedic!reader

summary: this was a request from someone on quotev, reader is gender neutral!

word count: 3k

You set your bag down next to your usual chair in the Literature Club room before taking a seat in one of the desk chairs. Stretching your arms up high over your head, you suppress a yawn; being stuck in school for an extra hour or so wasn't all that bad, considering you got to see your friends whom you didn't really share any classes with.

"Ugh. You're never the first one here."

A familiar irritated voice catches your attention, and you turn around in your chair to grin at the one and only Natsuki. Your expression brightens even more when you notice what she's carrying.

"Aww! Are those for us?" You coo, rising quickly from your chair to hurry over to the short pink-haired girl standing by the entrance to the room, examining the tray of muffins in her hands.

Immediately Natsuki recoils away from you, reminding you so much of a stray cat who never received enough love in their life. The thought makes you snort to yourself as she even straight up hisses, "Wh- these aren't for- I mean- they're for the club! But they aren't for, like, you and me!"

You listen to her fierce but confusing denial politely, your smile softening but never completely disappearing. She could get so riled up sometimes over the tiniest things.

Natsuki's blush is apparent, and you're highly tempted to make some sort of joking comment comparing her to something, when she suddenly backs up too far and collides with the doorframe of the classroom behind her. She squeaks, the tray suddenly seeming very shaky in her hands as she struggles to regain her balance to keep herself from toppling to the floor.

Not missing a beat, you reach out to catch the tray just as it slips from her hands, only narrowly managing to avoid watching the muffins spill all over the place.

Feeling pretty proud of yourself for that nice save, you hold the tray up triumphantly with one hand, showing off just a little bit as you smirk at Natsuki. "Well, what do you think? Have I earned the right to have at least one of these most-delightfully-baked-goods?"

She's fumbling for a response, ego most definitely wounded.

You lower the tray again, adding teasingly, "Alas, if you can't spare even one little muffin, I suppose we could work out some kind of arrangement?" You pause and hum, tapping your chin thoughtfully with one finger from your free hand, pretending to think for a moment. "How's about, say, three years of your devoted friendship? That about equals the rescued lives of- onetwothreefourfiveand... six muffins, wouldn't you agree?" You say, making a small show out of counting them.

Natsuki glares at you with scorching magenta eyes, stuttering over her words so much ('don't compare her to Yuri even as a joke, she will kill us right here and now, Y/N.') that you start to worry if maybe you've gone too far in teasing her today- not everyone appreciates your jokes, but you usually got the impression that Natsuki actually kind of liked them... even if she acted like she didn't. Normally, you could literally see her trying her best to fight back a giggle, but this time she seemed more sensitive for whatever reason.

"Ah, Natsuki-"

Whatever half-assed attempt at an awkward apology you were about to come up with was interrupted, of course, by your ever-excitable mutual friend Sayori launching herself into the classroom with all the unrestrained joy of an elementary schooler, exclaiming, "Y/N! You're never here this early- and you brought snacks??"

Sayori leans too close into your personal space to inspect the muffins before deciding, "Wait, no- these look too good to be yours, I bet Natsuki-" She glances over her shoulder to see the baker in question and exclaims, "So you did make them! Hey, thanks!"

Natsuki, still attempting to recover from her previous flustered state, huffs, refusing to look at either of you two. "Y-Yeah, it's no big deal..."

Sayori is already reaching over to snag one of the muffins; you have no doubt in mind that she was the reason Natsuki made six treats instead of five.

You try to catch Natsuki's eye so you could feign some good ol' exaggerated exasperation with the way Sayori ate like such a child, and how tactless she could be, but the short girl was doing her absolute best to continue ignoring your entire presence.

Yikes, maybe you actually had seriously offended her... or maybe it was just something else entirely that had upset her so much...?

Before you had the chance to really think too much about what could be bothering Natsuki, the other members of the Literature Club arrived for the usual after school meeting, first Yuri and then shortly after Monika, both apologizing for being tardy even though they weren't that late at all.

"Oh, Natsuki brought snacks?" Inquires Monika as she notices the muffin tray you had set down on a desk a couple of minutes ago. "Let's all have them before we do any reading or discussions today."

Sayori beams at the club president's words, having already polished off her first muffin and now eager for yet another. You didn't blame her, Natsuki was a great baker, but sheesh, with the way Sayori had inhaled it, you wondered if she even tasted it at all.

You try yet again to send Natsuki a warm smile in the hopes of cheering her up somehow, but she was still steadfastly pretending you didn't exist, apparently, and so your efforts were futile.

Resigned to your fate, you help Monika push some of the desks together to form a makeshift table that everyone settled down at, each club member taking a muffin for themselves and starting to dig in.

"No complaints, Sayori?" You hum after the first bite when you realize what the flavor of these particular muffins is.

Your energetic friend is probably eating too quickly to really notice, as you originally suspected, and she simply blinks at you, confused.

"What do you mean 'complaints'?" Natsuki pipes up sharply, though her voice is wavering which makes you think she actually cares quite a lot about what others- maybe even you in particular- think of her baking prowess.

You shake your head defensively, chuckling a little. "Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's just, they're blueberry. Sayori can be such a kid sometimes, so I-"

"Do you not like them?" Natsuki snaps, making you wish, not for the first time, that you could finish a sentence around these girls.

"Ah- nono, I do! It's really good! I just was- uhm-" You struggle to find the right words to defend yourself under her heated glare. Why was Natsuki taking everything you said so personally today?

"Y/N was only joking," Monika, bless her soul, steps in calmly with the patience of a saint to try and smooth out the situation before it was given the chance to escalate any further. "You know how they can be."

Wow, okay, ouch.

You dramatically place a hand over your heart. "Why, Monika! You wound me." And honestly, there was a teensy bit of truth buried and hidden underneath your dumb joke. Just because you liked to cover up any feelings of discontentment in an effort to find the tiniest semblance of humor in just about any scene of life didn't mean you went around purposely hurting the feelings of those around you. Or... did you? Shoot, now you weren't sure anymore.

Sayori laughs out loud at your over the top display, and you notice even Yuri is trying to hide a smile behind her muffin, her violet eyes almost unnerving with the way they follow your every movement.

But you aren't really paying attention to any of them at the moment, so much so that you don't even process Monika's reply. Your focus is purely on Natsuki.

She's not glaring directly at you anymore, but down at her hands which are clasped together in her lap.

You clear your throat; being serious wasn't your thing, but you still wanted to give it a try- for her. Softly, in the hopes of not letting the rest of the girl's overhear your words, you begin, "Natsuki, I..."

"It is strange, though." Yet again you are interrupted! If it had been Sayori, you would have been openly frustrated with her, but this time it's Yuri's shy self who has at last decided to share something of her thoughts with the group.

A beat of silence. “What’s strange?” Monika prompts when Yuri doesn’t continue her train of thought.

The violet-haired girl jolts a little, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. “Ah- just that- uhm- I was just thinking… Natsuki usually bakes cupcakes for us instead of muffins,” she explains timidly.

Huh. Weird observation, but Yuri kinda had a point.

Natsuki stiffens, sending a scowl in Yuri’s direction. “You don’t have to psychoanalyze literally everything, y’know. Life isn’t always like one of your dumb novels where you have to make up deeper meanings for when one doesn’t exist.”

You exchange a swift glance with Monika- lately, you and the club president had sort of been tag teaming helping each other lately to diffuse conflict within the Literature Club. Most often, the offenders were the same as the ones now: Natsuki and Yuri. Monika’s method of smoothing over issues was calmly and kindly, whereas you tended to take a more comedic route where angry grumbles could dissolve into grudging laughter.

Since it was technically your turn to step in and try to solve some conflict before either girl burst into tears, you interject with the first set-up for a joke that pops into your head.

“Heh, careful, Natsuki. I think you might give Yuri a new idea for one of her poems.” You face the taller girl as you continue, “Here, I’ll help you with the topic- ‘muffins- are they just ugly cupcakes?’ Yeah, just throw in some fancy language and stuff and-“

You can tell by everyone’s expressions that you’ve made a misstep somewhere here in your delivery, but then Yuri reaches up with one hand as she tries to mask her smile, and you’re intensely relieved you didn’t hurt her feelings.

Somehow, though, it seemed someone else was hurt.

Natsuki stood up abruptly from her chair, the sound of it’s metal legs grating on the floor causing you to wince. “Can you be serious for once?”

She doesn’t wait for your response, just turns on her heel to grab her cute pink backpack and then stalk out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Sheesh, what did I say….?” You sigh heavily, combing a hand through your hair. You were so frustrated with both yourself and Natsuki.

Sayori gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, already standing up to go check on Natsuki, but Monika’s timelessly intelligent emerald gaze was fixed on you with a thoughtfulness that seemed beyond her years, and it did not move away from you when she spoke to Sayori. “No, let’s have Y/N go and talk things out with her.”

You cringe. “Won’t that just make things worse?” You worry, shaking your head. “I mean, call me crazy, but I don’t think I’ll be getting an award for being her favorite person anytime soon, Monika…”

A faint smile crosses Monika’s face. “Mm, I think you’d be surprised. Just go and talk with her, and please hurry before you miss her. I’d hate to lose a club member, especially one as talented as Natsuki.”

You stand up, a bit alarmed by the assumption your club president was making here. What, just because of one little spat it was presumed Natsuki would quit the Literature Club altogether? That would never happen!

….Would it?

You weren’t keen on taking your chances of finding out, so you hastily made your exit from the classroom, looking around the school halls and seeing just a flash of pink disappear around the corner to your right.

You hurry after Natsuki, glancing around uncertainly- you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to roam the halls like this after classes were over, even if you were in a club. Plus, it seemed like Natsuki wasn’t actually leaving the school building at all, she was heading for the roof.

You don’t call her name for fear of being reprimanded by some annoying teacher or other staff, so you kept quiet as you trailed after your friend up some flights of stairs; if she was aware of your presence, she said nothing- you were mostly sure that she would’ve snapped at you to go away if she had noticed you.

At last you make it to the door that went out to the roof of the school building, which had just closed behind Natsuki. Tentatively, you push it open as quietly as possible and take a small peek outside to survey the situation.

Natsuki is sitting on a small bench with her back still to you, her attention apparently fixed on the horizon.

“Wow, they have benches up here?” You ask, finally making your presence known as you step out onto the roof and allow the door to drift shut behind you.

Natsuki starts, glancing back over her shoulder to see you, and her eyes narrow when you offer her a hesitant smile. “If you’re here to apologize, you can just leave.” Her voice is sharp, but you can sense that she sounds almost, defeated in a way.

You shrug, wandering over to sit down next to her, looking towards the sky. “Good thing I wasn’t planning on apologizing, then.”

She huffs, purposely scooting away from you so that she was right on the edge of the bench. “Look, what makes you think I want your company?”

“I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to explain what I meant for my own sake. My reputation and all that?”

She purses her lips together. “Go ahead then,” she mutters wearily.

“I never mean to offend you or anybody else with my jokes. I just kinda, joke around a lot, it’s not something I ever even think about doing, it just happens.” You pause, sighing dramatically as if the weight of the world has been taken off of your shoulders. “Boy, it’s been so long since I’ve held onto that secret. “So… now it’s your turn.”

At last the pink-haired girl looks at you, mildly confused. “My turn to do what?”

“Share a secret,” you clarify playfully.

Natsuki immediately shakes her head, a brilliant blush painting her cheeks. “Wh- never!”

You laugh. “Okay, alright, point taken. How about this then: how was your day?”

Natsuki calms down somewhat, apparently actually considering your question. You realize she seems… sad, somehow. “It was… whatever.”

“Did you bake the muffins this morning or-?” You ask idly.

“No, last night.” She pauses, glancing away again to stare at the sky, and you got the sense she was somewhere else in her memories, not fully present with you on this school roof now. “I was… going to decorate them this morning, but then I just. Had to leave.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those tardy students, aren’t you?” You tease as gently as possible.

She exhales in a long, frustrated breath. “For your information, I got to school a few hours early actually.”

You have very few puzzle pieces of this mystery to try and fit together, and you wish she’d stop being so- mysterious about this whole thing. You hadn’t noticed before today, but you knew very little about Natsuki, aside from the facts that she liked manga (probably anime too), baking, writing, the color pink, cute things… you didn’t know anything at all about her home life. You’re tempted to ask just why she was so early, why she couldn’t decorate the muffins, but just as you’re trying to work up the courage and the right words, she saves you the trouble.

“My father…” She trails off, sounding uncharacteristically insecure for once, and her eyes seem too-bright, as if shining with unshed tears. She’s being very vulnerable with you right now, and you’re intensely worried you’re going to mess it up with her somehow, so you keep quiet and wait for her to continue. “He…”

Her voice catches in her throat, not allowing her to continue.

Instantly you lean closer to rest your hand on her hand, causing her to flinch in shock at the unexpected touch.

She gives you a look like she wants to be angry, but at the same time, she’s not pulling away from you.

You really, really don’t want to see her cry. Not Natsuki, the strong-willed, determined, fierce Natsuki. You’re unsure how to comfort people, so you go with what you know best.

In a perfectly serious tone and a straight-faced expression, you say, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

For a second, you’re about 80% sure she’s going to slap you right in the face.

But instead, something miraculous happens.

Natsuki giggles, and as she does so, tears streak down her cheeks.

“Oh God- I didn’t mean to-!”

“No, no!” She cuts you off, tugging her hand away from yours and swiping at her face to try and wipe the moisture from her eyes, a smile still tugging at her lips. “You’re- you’re fine- I mean! Not you, I meant that, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine…” She pauses, and you think this is the first time Natsuki has ever gazed at you with such softness.

Have you really made her feel better? You’re pretty proud of yourself for that one. You would like to tell her that she can talk to you about anything anytime, or that maybe she can hang out at your house whenever she can’t stand being at hers, but she speaks before you can.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Your jokes are terrible.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. Despite the insult, you can definitely hear the smile in her voice.

[hannie-dul-set]

between the aisles [kim mingyu]

“wherein you discover your feelings for your best friend in between the grocery aisles.”

PAIRING | kim mingyu x reader GENRE | best friends! au, fluff, comedy WARNING | language lol WORD COUNT | 2k

a/n: dedicated to @aborivin​ happy happy birthday, annie!! <3 this ended up longer than i anticipated, but hope i managed to bring your grocery gyu fantasies to reality LMAO

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong. it was right if you benefit from it, wrong if you did not. but what if you both gained and lost something along the way?

“y/n, look! this carrot has arms!”

that very voice had you sighing, questioning whether or not you had made the right decision today. whether or not you should have given in to his annoyingly endearing pout, his whiny, violence-inducing voice, or the overall kicked puppy look that he was bearing. in the end, you made the decision—

“gyu, put that down! oh my god— back on the pile, not in the cart!”

—the decision to bring kim mingyu, your irritating best friend whom you both want to punch and adore, grocery shopping with you.

“you’re so evil,” he accused, bringing the poor carrot to his chest, hugging it tightly in a protective hold as if you’d grab it from him. “don’t you have a heart? are you just gonna abandon this little guy?”

you frowned. “but i already bought vegetables last time! i showed you my list earlier and it didn’t involve vegetables, mingyu,” you reasoned, gesturing at your shopping cart to emphasize your point. it was partially filled with meat, bread, and everything else except for the produce that mingyu desperately wanted for whatever reason. he seemed adamant to keep it, the little, deformed orange root, but from your stern glare, he returned it back to the pile, although with a frown that he didn’t even bother to mask

“what’s one more?” mingyu grumbled in a soft voice before you two trucked further into the aisle. “he deserves a home too, you know.”

“his home is inside your belly, mingyu.”

he gasped. loudly. very loudly. thank god the grocery store was practically empty. “you take that back!”

from the sudden noise mingyu erupted, you instinctively moved forward to press your palms over his mouth, silencing him. yes, there were barely any customers around, but the employees were still around. you didn’t want to risk getting kicked out thanks to your best friend’s ineptitude to auditory appropriateness. his eyes were wide, staring at you in alarm and you could only harden your gaze. when he seemed to finally get the idea of you wanting him to shut the fuck up, you removed your hands, and he released a long huff of breath.

“okay—” you sighed, brushing your fingers through your hair before returning his curious glances. “how much do you want the fucking carrot?”

mingyu’s face lit up, his sharp canines bearing from the wideness of his grin, and you weren’t able to prevent a smile of your own from forming. one might think he won the lottery— not a mutated alien carrot that he had questionably gotten attached to.

“he is my son, y/n,” he proclaimed. “i’m not leaving without my son.”

it sometimes irked you how one look from him could immediately have you agreeing. you were going to monopolize his closet for this, dear god.

“go,” you sighed, and you didn’t expect him to smile even wider. “before i change my mind. i’m paying for this, remember?”

“oh my god, i love you,” the words slipped past his breath quickly. a little too quickly. he hugged you quickly, too. and the lingering feeling of his fleeting arms around you tingled over your skin belatedly when he had finally left and ran away to pick up his apparent son. he wasn’t there, but you were smiling at him, smiling at his back as he ran at to the end of the aisle, smiling when he shot back at you, raising the carrot in his hands to show it off, smiling when he finally returned to his spot before you.

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong. and right now, you've made the right decision. the stupid smile on your face says it all.

“y/n! thank you, thank you,” mingyu sang, dancing a little bit before gingerly placing the carrot on top of a cereal box inside the cart. “what’s next on the list?”

“oh, so now you care about my list?” you raised at arm to lightly smack him on the head. “ramen. don’t even say anything about preservatives, you wannabe food connoisseur. you’ve terrorized my grocery experience enough already.”

mingyu laughed, gently patting the spot on his hair where you hit him earlier, and he grinned at you. “aye aye, captain.”

the produce aisle and the instant food aisle were at the opposite ends of the grocery store spectrum— meaning that the distance needed to be covered was a bit too far for your liking. mingyu volunteered to push the shopping cart in your stead, humming along to the lyricless music blaring through the store’s speakers. he was walking at a pace far too slow for your liking, even with his long ass legs, causing you to sigh, stop, and look at him in exasperation.

“what’s wrong?” mingyu raised a brow, against the cart handles with his arms crossed.

“can’t you move a little faster? at this rate your son will start rotting before we even get to pay for him at the cash register.”

“well, we definitely won’t make it there if we stop moving,”

god you wanted to punch him. something about that stupid and smug look on his face just looked an exclusive invitation for your fist. mingyu continued strolling past you, eyeing the vast selection of milk inside the lines of freezers. still feeling bitter by your lack of a rebuttal, you resorted to physical tactics— shoving him forward as you passed by, which caused the poor guy to stumble and let out a shriek.

“again,” he breathed, barely hanging onto his life by clinging onto the freezer door handle. “you’re so evil.”

it was a surprise that it didn’t swing open and insinuated a cartoned dairy avalanche onto the male. you stuck your tongue out at him, stealing the cart away from him briskly walking away, not before shooting back a smug grin of your own. “if only you walked a little faster, gyu.”

you already passed another isle but he didn’t seem to be running after you, and it stirred your gut into unease. where the hell was he? the last thing you wanted to do today was file a missing child case. you thought of turning around, hoping that you’d spot him sneaking behind your back once you did. but the moment you stopped your movements to look behind, you felt like you were being carried into the air.

“what the fuckin— oh my god. put me down, you dumbass!”

you heard him giggle. you couldn’t see his face because the motherfucker was carrying you like a sack of potatoes right now, but you could imagine the shit eating expression he was wearing on his face right now. there was movement that you could feel— him leaning forward as well as the shuffling of contents inside your cart, and you could only ask yourself what in the world was he planning.

“there. perfect,” you were about to retort, scold him, and maybe even insert a little bit of profanities in between, but all that escaped from your lips was a high pitched scream because mingyu finally put you down, but the thing is—

he placed you inside the shopping cart.

the damned shopping cart. you couldn’t even fit inside as your legs were practically squeezing against your chest, so you had to have them dangling them out of the cart’s walls just so you can breathe.

“mingyu, what the fuck, i’m not for sale,” you were appalled, staring up at him wide-eyed and he was only grinning at you like a maniac.

“you wanted me to move faster, right?”

“well, yes, but— oh my fucking god, mingyu—!”

he was crazy. you had managed to conclude that amidst your frazzled state of mind because you were literally being steered around the grocery store’s aisles at the speed twenty-fucking-three miles per hour. your knuckles were getting cut off from blood by gripping onto the sides of the cart too tightly, and you couldn’t even think because all you could hear was wheels screeching against the slippery tiles juxtaposed with the sound of mingyu’s laughter.

“do you want me to go even faster?”

“i want you to trip over your own legs, you fucking maniac. what if we get kicked out?!”

“they can’t kick us out if they can’t catch us!”

you shot your head up to look at him, breathless from the sudden rush of adrenaline but even more so when you caught a glimpse of his widely smiling face. he stared down at you, laughing, hair flying against the wind, and the fluorescent lights of the store's ceiling raining on his golden skin made it seem like he was glowing. you weren’t sure if it was the sudden rush, or if you were also going crazy but—

had he always looked this radiant?

the cart stopped, knocking the air from your lungs, and you were finally snapped out of your dumbstruck daze. or so you thought, because the moment your eyes landed on your best friend once more— hair a mess, chest heaving, and an intoxicated smile on his face, you were deterred back into the previous screaming if your nerves.

what the fuck?

“okay, ramen,” he breathed out, probing the shelves filled with instant noodles to pick out your favorite ones. you only stared at him wordlessly. staring at the way his brows furrowed in concentration as he examined the selection, staring at the way his lips were formed in a slight pout, staring at the way he picked out a handful of the goods, until his gaze resigned back to yours with an inquisitive air. “do you want me to get you out of there or…?”

“o—oh yeah i can get out by myself, thanks,” you were still slightly out of it (well, very out of it), so it was a bit of a task to get yourself out of the tiny shopping cart. you were struggling, that you acknowledge, and it seems like mingyu did as well because you heard him release a chuckle, returning the stacks of ramen onto the shelves before coming to your rescue.

“there you go,” he hummed, pulling out of your predicament, and your feet were finally back on the ground “i was afraid you’d kill my son out of your carelessness.”

you smacked him, to which he let out a whine. “i might actually do after the whole stunt you pulled earlier.”

“but it was fun, right?”

you were about to bite back, opening your mouth to split another snarky comment, but you were only left speechless once you saw the eagerness from his upturned lips, the crinkling of his eyes, and you couldn’t help but mirror his gleam

“yeah…it was pretty fun.”

mingyu hummed in satisfaction, returning to his previous agenda of picking out the last item on your list. “let’s finish up this trip,” he said, throwing in a number of the noodles into your cart before grabbing onto the handles, ready to move on to your next destination  “where off to next?”

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong, and bringing your best friend along to your grocery trip was definitely both a right and wrong decision on your part. you lost a few screws in your head, maybe, as well as a few chunks of your patience. though, you definitely gained something else in between the aisles. 

what that was will be left unsaid, for now.

a fond smile blossomed on your face, shaking your head before moving ahead of mingyu who started to trail behind you shortly after. he waited for you to speak, earnest in his gaze, and you nudged your head towards the orange carrot, resting peacefully inside the shopping cart.

“let’s go pay for your son now, yeah?”

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 8 - Confrontation

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Chapter 8: Confrontation

Adrien started at the sudden thud on his bedroom floor. He looked up. Ananta was breathing heavily and his expression was solemn. His best friend definitely didn’t look like he was just there to continue his day of goofing off and having a ridiculous time. 

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked. 

“Your old man is a serious piece of work!”

“Did you punch him?” Adrien asked. 

Nino threw his hands up. “No! And I definitely should have! I have serious regrets! He fucking shattered my knee cap and tried to take the snake!“

Adrien dropped his stylus, and turned his full attention towards his guest. “Umm… maybe you should start from the beginning.” 

Read on Ao3

Nino sighed, and let himself flop backwards onto Adrien’s bed. 

“I was just continuing to live out my reckless fantasies. I just confronted him! I yelled at him about how awful of a father he was, and the bastard barely reacted!” Nino complained. “Then I told him you were Chat Noir, and it was like he flipped a switch.” 

“You told him I was Chat Noir?” Adrien asked, his voice small. 

“It never happened now! You don’t need to worry.”

Adrien shook his head. “I wasn’t… Uh… I mean, how did he react?” Adrien asked softly, his throat had dropped into his gut.

Nino wasn’t even looking at him - his friend was staring at the ceiling, fidgeting in clear agitation. “He went scary silent! He called Nathalie in. Apparently, they’ve suspected you were Chat Noir before, and thought they had ruled it out during Gorizilla.”

“Did he say anything else?” Adrien asked.

“Umm… he said barely anything the whole time I was there. I was the one talking. I told him how amazing you are, and how much of a jerk he is, but he didn’t react.” 

“He said nothing else?” Adrien asked again, gripping the side of his chair, trying to disguise the urgency with which he needed to know.  

“He mostly just said his parenting choices were none of my business. But… he did say something melodramatic like, ‘my own son, this entire time,’” Nino said, dropping his voice into his lower register in a mock impersonation of Adrien’s father. “Like you being a superhero was a personal affront to him!” 

“He was disappointed then?” Adrien asked. 

Nino bolted into a sitting position, his expression horrified as he finally caught Adrien’s train of thought. “Dude! I’m sorry! I didn’t think! I didn’t even consider that! Of course it would matter to you what he thought of your dual identity. I definitely didn’t mean to hit you with all this like a train. I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s…” Adrien trailed off. It wasn’t exactly okay, but Adrien wanted it to be okay. He definitely knew Nino hadn’t been trying to hurt him, but Nino had also known that Adrien was avoiding talking to his father with the snake. “It doesn’t matter,” Adrien said instead. “Just… tell me what he thought of the whole thing.”

“I… I don’t know, dude. He was definitely super creepy. But… I think he was holding back everything he was thinking. I don’t know what he thinks. Do you want me to go in there and try and find out?” 

Adrien shook his head rapidly. “No… it’s better if we keep your knees intact, and make sure he doesn’t have access to the snake. Maybe, you shouldn’t be here at all.” 

“Dude, are you okay?” 

“He really attacked you?” 

Nino nodded. “When my miraculous beeped its first warning, he looked right at it and then lunged forward. And dude! He was super capable! He knew exactly how and where to strike to incapacitate me.” 

“Did he know who you were?” Adrien asked softly. 

Nino winced. “Yeah, he figured it out. It probably wasn’t hard based on what I was screaming at him.” 

Adrien wilted.

“It’s okay!” Nino insisted. “I reset. I’m fine.” 

Adrien disagreed. It wasn’t okay that his father was willing to attack a miraculous holder, but especially wasn’t okay that his father was willing to attack his friends. 

What would motivate him to do that? 

“He actually tried to take your miraculous?”

“Dude! He almost nabbed it. If it hadn’t been for yesterday where I had so much practice hitting that reset without thought, he might’ve been successful.”

Adrien fell quiet, but his mind was whirling, and he wasn’t happy with where it was going, but he couldn’t not consider it.

“Dude, what are you thinking?”

“Nino, what if my father is Hawkmoth?” Adrien was amazed at how steady his voice was. Maybe it was because he had heard it before. Or maybe, it was just starting to make too much sense.

“Dude! That’s a big leap. The guy is awful and honestly, I wouldn’t be that surprised, but surely there are other explanations for him being a jerk and a good fighter?”

“Ladybug suspected him once before. She had actual evidence.”

Nino’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said on an exhale.

“What was the evidence?” Nino asked quietly.

Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know. I got really defensive and snapped at her. And then he was akumatized, and she crossed him off the suspect list. I never thought about it. I didn’t want to think about it.”

Nino nodded. “Understandable. But what does he get out of being Hawkmoth? He already has pretty much everything!”

“To bring back maman.”

And it fit. The second the words were out of his mouth, Adrien wanted to throw up. He could see it. His father was used to getting what he wanted either through intimidation or money, but bringing back his mother was something he was denied. Instead of accepting that, grieving and moving on like a normal person, would his father have turned to magic?

“Nathalie would have to be in on it,” he thought out loud. Maybe that’s why she had been so horrified by his identity and insistent that she and his father couldn’t know his.

“I’m going to need the snake back, Nino,” Adrien announced, his voice monotone, but steady.

“What are you going to do?” Nino asked. 

“I’m going to find out for sure if my father is Hawkmoth,” Adrien said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Will you be okay, alone? Shouldn’t we call Ladybug, maybe bring in some reinforcements?”

Adrien shook his head. “Time loops are easier when you don’t have to explain everything you’ve learned to a team...” he trailed off, considering. “And honestly, I… I would prefer to know first. If we’re right, I will tell her. But I’ll set the time loop outside the mansion. If he makes any kind of move, I will reset immediately. It’ll be fine.”

“But… will you be? If it turns out that he is?” 

“I… I don’t know. But it’s like you said, Nino. I have to know.”

“I’ll be here.”

“No,” Adrien disagreed.

“No? Dude! If you’re right about all of this, I don’t want you here in this mansion alone!” 

Adrien shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t want to face this alone either, but… if Ladybug has taught me anything, it’s that we have to be smart about this. If you almost lost the snake… I might lose it, too. I might get captured or incapicated or worse. I need someone to know, who’s not here! If you don’t see me by tomorrow, you go straight to Alya with our suspicions, okay?”

Nino looked so torn, but in the end he nodded. “Okay. But can I give you the snake back after I’ve gone back home?”

“What? You don’t want to be carried over the threshold bridal style by your superhero crush?” Adrien teased, but if Nino’s somber face was anything to go by, the joke fell flat. 

“I don’t want you to be tired right before you go and confront your father.” 

… 

Adrien took one slow deep breath with his eyes closed. Then he activated the snake and launched himself through the open window in his father’s office.

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” Gabriel barked instantly, rising to his feet at Snake Noir’s intrusion. 

“Is that anyway to greet your friendly neighborhood superhero?” Snake Noir joked the way Adrien Agreste never would. 

“You are a teenager in possession of a power you do not understand. Using a miraculous that you just randomly found is hardly an accomplishment worthy of respect. Especially if you are using it to break into private residences.”

“I would think not having lost once to Hawkmoth, and having personally saved you on two separate occasions would be its own resume,” Adrien countered.

“Or perhaps, if you had given it up to him in that very first encounter, the city would already be free of his influence and I never would have needed rescue.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I should have handed over the power of destruction to a terrorist.” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re a real piece of work,” Adrien snapped. 

Gabriel picked up his phone. No doubt to call the authorities.

Adrien reset with a sigh.

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

“Actually, I happen to live here.”

Gabriel froze, his grey eyes rising to Snake Noir’s masked eyes.

“Adrien?”

“I realize you likely don’t approve.” 

“Of my son gallivanting around the city in that ridiculous cat suit while putting his life in mortal peril?” Gabriel barked. “No, I don’t approve.”

“And here I was hoping that some part of you would be proud of me,” Adrien admitted softly. 

“Adrien, I forbid you from continuing as a superhero. It is far too dangerous.”

“You’re not going to remember this conversation in three minutes, father. You’re not in a position to make demands.”

Gabriel held out his hand. “Give me your ring and I will take care of it.”

Adrien backed away, knowing if what Nino had said was true, his father was more than capable of an effective strike. “I’m not going to give you my miraculous. Not either of them.” 

“Then what did you want to tell me?”

“I’ve come to ask if you’re Hawkmoth.” 

“You would accuse me? Your own father? Of being a domestic terrorist?”

“Would you cut it out and just answer the question?”

“Watch your tone!” 

“You’re worried about my tone?!”

“I see no reason to entertain your insolence and disrespect with a response.”

Adrien’s gut twisted. It wasn’t a denial. But it wasn’t a confirmation either. His father was not acting like an innocent man. And while Adrien was more convinced than ever that he was onto something, he wasn’t leaving until he was absolutely sure one way or the other.

“Father, I’m sorry.” He wasn’t actually sorry, but Adrien knew that an apology was often one of the only tools he had to calm his raging father. “I just… Ladybug suspected you. And I had to prove her wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His father’s face gave away nothing. There was no change in his expression or posture. 

“I’m just worried about you, Adrien,” his father said. “You’re a child. You shouldn’t be risking yourself. This isn’t your fight. Nor your responsibility.” 

“It’s not that big of a risk,” Adrien countered. “Ladybug always brings me back.” Adrien watched his father’s face carefully. 

And sure enough, his lips pressed together into a thin line. 

“You don’t have a say,” Adrien pressed further.

“I’m your father!” Gabriel insisted. 

“That doesn’t mean you get to make every decision about my life!” Adrien shouted back. He knew that he’d never have had the gall to say that if his father was going to remember his defiance, but it felt freeing to say. Maybe Nino had been right and he should have confronted his father with the snake weeks ago. 

“You are still a child! Until you’re an adult, it is my right to see to your safety and affairs.”

Adrien bristled at his father’s choice of words. His right?! Didn’t he mean responsibility?

But that was just it. His father probably didn’t see caring for him as a responsibility. Nathalie saw to his affairs, and his bodyguard saw to his safety. What did his father ever do other than try to control him? 

“I haven’t been a child since mother left! And I think I finally understand why she did! To get away from you controlling every part of her life!”

“How dare you?!”

“How dare I?” Adrien repeated. “You’re the one that drove her away!” 

Gabriel shoved his computer monitor off his desk. It fell to the ground with a shattered crash. Then Gabriel flipped the desk itself. 

Adrien took a step back, every muscle tense and ready to spring into retreat. He had never seen his father lose control like this. 

Gabriel stalked forward, over the debris, his breath suddenly heaving in his chest. 

“Get out of my house!” he screamed, spit droplets flying from his mouth.

Adrien didn’t need to be told twice. He reset. 

He stood once again on the mansion’s tiled roof. The sun was shining, the sky a perfect blue. Birds chirped in the garden and a car drove past the outer gates. 

There was no evidence that he and his father had been screaming at each other seconds prior. 

Because they hadn’t been. 

He drew in a shaky breath and sat down, burying his head in his hands and knees. The event now only existed as a figment in Adrien’s memory. 

His father hadn’t just lost control. He hadn’t just kicked Adrien out of his childhood home. 

And yet his hands were trembling and his heartbeat was roaring in his ears. 

Adrien was more convinced than ever that his father was the villain Ladybug had suspected he was. But what would get his father to come clean? Just asking hadn’t worked. Challenging his authority always made things worse. As apparently did direct confrontations.

Adrien stood up.

He knew what he had to say. 

He reset, and then dove back down into his father’s office for the fourth time. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

“Hello father,” Adrien greeted formally. 

Gabriel’s eyes widened, focused on his transformed suit. “Adrien?” 

“I’ve come to apologize to you. I’ve been fighting as Chat Noir this entire time to protect Paris. But that was before I realized what Hawkmoth was fighting for.”

Adrien could already see the anticipation gleaming in his father’s eyes as he leaned eagerly forward. 

“And what is Shadowmoth fighting for?” Gabriel asked. 

Did he seriously just correct the villain’s name to Shadowmoth? 

“You’re fighting to bring back mom,” Adrien told him. “And I want to help you. Ladybug…” and he had beat back a sob for even uttering these words. “Ladybug… she trusts me. I can… I can get you the miraculous of creation and I already have destruction,” he said, holding up his hand putting the ring on display.

“And you are willing to support Shadowmoth against the partner you’ve fought beside and defended for two years?”

“Family should come first, don’t you think?” Adrien said. 

His father was silent, considering him stoically. 

“I would do anything for Maman,” Adrien whispered. “To hear her voice again? To see her smile? Wouldn’t you?” It was what his father would have said to him had the identity reveal had played out in the reverse direction.

Gabriel smiled as he rose to his feet. “I should have trusted you with this ages ago, Adrien. I am sorry. I doubted you. I wasn’t certain that you had the stomach to do what needed to be done. To think, you were the key to victory the entire time. I should have had more faith.”

Adrien’s whole world shattered at the unequivocal confirmation. And yet, he remained standing, his eyes were dry, and his hands remained steady. Some part of him wondered at his ability to take the revelation without flinching. He knew if he had learned this a year ago, he would be a puddle on the floor balling,  barely able to function. 

But a lot had changed in the last year. A lot had changed in just the last few weeks. Adrien suddenly had a lot of practice at dealing with world-ending revelations and the accompanying grief. A lot of practice at saying good-bye to people that he loved.

“I miss her so much,” Adrien said, his voice cracking. And this time he did nothing to suppress the tears that wanted to fall. Because in this much, he was being honest. He missed her. 

So much.

His father came around the desk, and swept Adrien up in a hug. For one weak moment, Adrien allowed himself to melt into the awkward embrace. 

And then, the snake miraculous beeped, and his father jerked away violently, his eyes blazing with unbridled rage.

“You’re in a time loop?!” his father roared. 

Adrien didn’t give him another second to react. 

He reset. And he was back on the mansion’s rooftop. He dropped like a lead weight to the roof tiles. 

He had just done something he had never done before. 

He had earned his father’s admiration and respect.

His love.

The tears came fast and hard, and Adrien just let himself heave and sob because he knew he couldn’t keep his father’s love. 

It came at a price Adrien was unwilling to pay.

And now, given what he knew he had to do, he knew without any doubt he would never have his father’s love.

Not for the rest of his life. 

…

It only took two more loops to stop crying. And then his experience as a superhero who always had to act, to strike, to make decisions in life or death situations took over. Because he was a professional with a job to do.

But before that, he would give his father a chance to surrender. Adrien knew that his father wouldn’t take it, but he had to try anyway if only for his own peace of mind years from this moment. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

God, Adrien was really getting sick of that line. 

“Gabriel Agreste, hand over the butterfly and peacock miraculouses without a fight, and I won’t tell a soul who you are.”

Adrien held out his hand, hoping with every fiber of his being that his father would just surrender. 

Gabriel glared at him, but didn’t say anything for several seconds. Was his father considering his escape options? Or was he actually considering surrendering the miraculouses? 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he eventually said stoically.

Snake Noir snorted. “This is my ninth loop. I’ve already confirmed you’re Hawkmoth. If you give it up, you can continue to live your life of privilege with your family. The city never need know who you are.” 

“That’s quite the generous offer coming from you,” Gabriel said. 

Gabriel was wrong. It was a selfish offer. Please father, please just take it. 

Snake Noir glanced at the portrait of his mother that hung behind Gabriel “You’re not the only one who has lost someone you know.”

Gabriel launched to his feet, snarling. “What do you know of loss?”

“I lost my mother about three years ago, and I think I’m about to lose my father,” Adrien confessed calmly.

His father froze, his eyes widened. “Adrien?”

“Please father, give it up,” Adrien entreated. “Give it up and we can be a family.” 

“Adrien, we can be a family. A whole and complete family with your mother here with us again. Please, just help me. With Chat Noir on our side, our victory is certain.”

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut against his father’s pleas.

“I will forgive all the years you fought against me. Join me now, and we can bring her back.”

“We can’t,” Adrien sobbed.

“We can,” his father insisted. “The ladybug and black cat will grant any wish.” 

“The cost is too high.”

Gabriel snarled at him. “How can you be against me?! I did this all for you!” 

“For me?! Are you serious, right now?! This was always for yourself!”

“For both of us!” 

Adrien shook his head in agitation. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Adrien,” his father said, his voice contained an actual note of desperation. 

Adrien’s eyes shot to his father’s and considered him. 

His father might now want to hurt him. But he would. If that’s what it took. 

Hot tears spilled down his face. 

“So be it, father.” 

“Adrien!”

Adrien didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. 

… 

On his next loop, he came through the front doors rather than through the window. His focus was on Nathalie. 

If his father deserved a chance, so did she. And he was far less certain what she would choose. 

Nathalie jumped to her feet instantly at his unexpected presence. 

“Don’t stand on my account,” he told her. “I know you still haven’t been feeling well.” 

“What can I do for you, M. Noir?” she said with as much dignity and professionalism as ever. Like his presence wasn’t abnormal at all. 

“Where does he keep it, Nathalie?” he asked. 

“Where does who keep what?” she asked, but it was clear to him that she was stalling when she glanced toward the doors to his father’s office. 

“My father?” he clarified, following her gaze. “Where does he keep the butterfly miraculous?” 

She stared at him, her expression almost unchanged except her pupils had dilated. It was good to know some things were capable of throwing Nathalie off her unshakeable foundation - that she was human.

She pushed the glasses up her nose. “I wouldn’t presume to know who your father is.” 

“Nathalie, you’ve already figured out that I’m Adrien, and you’ve clearly known about him for far longer if you were using the peacock.”

She flinched.

He walked right up to her, his eyes looking down at her. 

When had he grown taller than Nathalie? 

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” she said. 

His chest tightened painfully. He knew he had no claim to Nathalie’s affections, but he didn’t want to lose her, too. “Nathalie, please. Help me end this somewhat peacefully before one of us winds up killing the other. Please!” 

“He’s doing this to bring your mother back,” she confessed. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I got that. But I think maman might’ve had a good reason to leave. He has no right to force her back to a life she clearly didn’t want.” 

Nathalie shook her head. “She didn’t leave. She’s still here. She’s just in a magically induced coma.” 

He lost the ability to breathe. 

His mother was here? The whole time? They had let him believe she was gone, that she had left him? Or that she had died? When she was here the whole time?! 

His grip tightened around his baton, and his eyes burned.  

“Did either of you ever consider telling me?” he choked out. 

“He tried once, but you gave him your blessing to move on, and he decided you weren’t dedicated enough.”

He shook his head. Of course he did. “I gave him my blessing to move on with you,” he snapped back. 

She glanced past him and adjusted her glasses. “Be that as it may,” she said softly. 

“I don’t understand you. You’re willing to die for him?”

She turned back to him, her eyes suddenly intense. “For all of you! To heal your family!” 

He took a step back. He wasn’t certain he wanted to be a part of this family. 

“So you won’t help me?” he concluded. 

“I won’t betray your father, Adrien. I can’t. I hate that it was you that we were fighting. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too, Nathalie.”

He reset the snake.

… 

It only took thirteen loops to figure out how to get to the super secret supervillain lair underneath the mansion.

And there she was, preserved perfectly. She was exactly as he remembered - beautiful and soft. She could have just been sleeping if she hadn’t been lying in a glass coffin like some fairy tale princess waiting for a kiss of true love.

“Hi maman,” he whispered, his claws tracing out the curve of her face on the glass. “It’s… good to see you,” he managed before his throat lodged itself closed. He leaned his forehead against the smooth surface and he shook as silent sobs overtook him. 

He fought to gain his breath back under control. He had so much he wanted to say to her. “So much has changed since you left us,” he whispered. “I wish I could tell you about all of it. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he sobbed. 

“How did you get down here?!”

Adrien whirled, and found himself face to face with Shadowmoth. 

“It wasn’t hard,” Snake Noir said, before pointing to the window. “That’s a very big window.”

“What are you doing down here?” the villain demanded.

“Saying good-bye to my mother,” Adrien said. 

Whatever his father had expected him to say that was not it. He literally stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide as if Adrien had just struck him. Which in a way, he supposed he had. “Adrien?” 

“Yes father?”

THe older man smiled. He actually smiled. “This is perfect.” 

Adrien had never disagreed with his father more in his life. This was about as far from perfect as they could get. 

“You can help me,” he was saying. “Help your mother. You have what we need! And I’m sure if Ladybug knows it’s for your mother, she’ll be willing to help as well.”

Snake Noir shook his head, tears trailing over his mask. “We can’t revive her,” he whispered. 

“We can!”

“The price is too high.” 

“I will pay any price!” his father screamed. 

“And that’s exactly why you can’t revive her! Did you know there was another timeline out there? One where you akumatized me! And the whole fucking world was destroyed! Is that a price you’re willing to pay?”

“If you help me, there would be no reason to akumatize you.” 

“I can’t believe you! There’s no way I can convince you to give it up, is there?”

Gabriel ignored him, stalking closer. “Give me your miraculous!” 

“I won’t!” 

“This isn’t your battle to fight!” Gabriel snarled. “You are a child!” 

“I stopped being a child the day mother disappeared! Because you disappeared the same day she did! I thought…” Adrien broke off momentarily overwhelmed with his tears. “I thought you were grieving! Turns out you were terrorizing the whole city!”

“For you!” 

“That’s a load of bull shit!” Adrien screamed back.  

Shadowmoth surged forward, snarling. And Adrien had run out of walkway. “Is your mother not worth it? You would betray me? Betray your own mother? For what? Some girl you barely even know?”

Adrien laughed bitterly. At this point he knew Marinette far better than either of his parents. If only she knew that.

“You would make me choose between two women that I love?!” Adrien countered. 

“It shouldn’t be that hard. There are millions of women for you to fall in love with. You only have one mother.” 

“I could say the same to you,” Adrien said. “You could fall in love again. You only have one son.” 

Shadowmoth lunged forward, striking with his cane. Adrien parried the blow with his staff, and dodged to the side. “Maman wouldn’t want you to do this!” he yelled.

His father laughed. “This was her plan!”

Adrien stumbled, and lost his form. Shadowmoth struck again through the lapse in his defenses. 

Snake Noir took the strike to the shoulder, and fell backwards. “Then she doesn’t deserve to be revived!”

Gabriel sneered. “I failed in raising you.”

“You didn’t raise me at all! And I’m likely better for it!”

Shadowmoth struck downwards, but Adrien just flicked the snake miraculous before the cane could make contact again, and he was back on the mansion’s tiled roof overlooking his mother’s gardens. 

“Sass, scales rest.” The snake slipped away, but he was still Chat Noir. He vaulted blindly away needing to be anywhere else.

Once he had put half a mile between himself and his former home, he collapsed to the ground, and pulled open the communicator. 

“M’lady, I figured out who Shadowmoth is. And I took the liberty of doing some reconnaissance with the snake.” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “And I-I… have a plan. Let’s meet on your balcony; I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Please invite Rena and Carapace. And don’t worry about costumes. I already know who all of you are and I think both the others know who you are, too. See you soon, princess.”

He ended the call, buried his head into his knees, curled up, and cried. 

…

Chapter 9: Family

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on. 

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act. 

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord. 

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to  establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not. 

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is  teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment. 

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls. 

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know." 

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds. 

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear. 

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix. 

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence. 

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in. 

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar. 

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised. 

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief. 

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved. 

Hmm, this feels familiar. 

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision. 

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the  goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them. 

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!" 

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, angst, fluff, romance

author’s note: stay tuned for demon!jongho hehe

warnings: insecurities, confessions, some swearing (like twice?), another secret being revealed, af-i can’t even say it af-ffection 🤢🤢

word count: 1.9k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

Hongjoong's POV

Surprisingly, building a pool in the ship for Y/N and Soojin to use didn't take much time. Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung, San and I all worked together because during the past weeks we'd grown closer to the mermaids. And even though I probably wouldn't admit it out loud...they had grown on me. 

Looking back at my previous actions, I felt like such an asshole. Doing this, small as it was, was my way of apologizing. I just hoped it would be enough. And yet again, if Y/N managed to forgive me, then maybe, I deserved to forgive myself.

"What are you moping about?" my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Seonghwa.

"Uh...nothing."

"Come on, don't you think I deserve the truth?" he sat down next to me, casually leaning on one side. I was taken aback by his proximity. It's been a while since...I felt so close to him.

"I was thinking about Y/N," I confessed.

"In a murderous kind of way or...?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course not. In a...I can't believe she forgave me kind of way."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Seonghwa looked confused. "Why the long face, Joongie?"

I almost jumped away as if struck. It's been far too long since he'd addressed me so affectionately. I missed that. I missed him.

"Because I don't know if I deserve it."

Seonghwa laughed. I was telling him about feeling like shit and he was laughing. The nerve! I stared at him expectantly. Soon enough, he started explaining himself.

"Do you think I deserve her forgiveness?" he chuckled bitterly. "Ariel is gone because of me and I kept that a secret from Y/N. And she forgave me anyway."

I shook my head.

"Your parents and the sea witch are the real villains, Hwa," I insisted. "There's nothing to forgive."

Seonghwa laughed once again, in total contrast with my sombre expression.

"You know...you and Y/N are not so different after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The first thing...that's exactly what she said after we rescued her from Mingi’s fishnets. There's nothing to forgive. You two are quite similar, actually."

"You know...I think I'll take that as a compliment," I grinned despite myself.

"It is a compliment," Seonghwa assured me.

"And the second thing?"

"Hm?" Seonghwa tried to pretend he had forgotten but I could see right through him.

"You said the first similarity was us saying the exact same sentence. What's the second thing?"

"The second thing...is I'm completely enamoured by the two of you."

I couldn't even begin to process what he was saying. After all my cruelty...he still...It seemed too unimaginable to be actually happening. And yet...

I had to make a joke or else I would break into tears, fall apart and never recover from it.

"Well, that's your own problem, not necessarily a similarity between–"

"Can't you say something normal for once?" Seonghwa groaned.

"What do you want me to say?" I sighed desperately.

"Something honest. Something real."

I smiled sadly.

"I don't deserve you as much as I don't deserve Y/N's forgiveness."

"That's not for you to decide," Seonghwa argued. "And it's not real. Not to me. And I'm certain Y/N will agree."

"Shall we ask her?"

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader's POV

You and Soojin were enjoying the water inside the pool. It allowed you to be close to Seonghwa and Soojin – to Yeosang. And you had Hongjoong to be grateful to. Honestly, he wasn't so bad, after all. He could actually be quite considerate when he wanted to. And he had somehow overcome his jealousy, or at least it seemed that way. So, when he and Seonghwa showed up, almost running, you couldn't help but beam with happiness upon seeing their pretty faces.

"Well, if it isn't my two favourite pirates across the seas," you did your best to sound confident and a bit teasing.

"Don't tell that to Yeosang," Soojin warned, joking. You waved her off and she swam away to the other edge of the pool, to give the three of you some sense of privacy.

"What brings you here?" you asked nonchalantly.

"This is literally my ship, Y/N," Hongjoong reminded you. "You're my guest."

"Semantics," you giggled, not at all taking offense.

"Hongjoong and I have a question for you," Seonghwa explained.

"May I hear it?"

Hongjoong suddenly started playing with his nails, refusing to look into your eyes. Was he nervous? You couldn't believe it. The once terrifying captain now seemed like a good little boy to you.

"What's wrong?" you asked in a soft voice.

"N-nothing," he lied.

"Hongjoong said he doesn't deserve my affections as much as he doesn't deserve your forgiveness!" Seonghwa ratted him out.

"Seonghwa!" Hongjoong complained.

"What? You're the one who suggested asking her."

"I was going to but..."

"Hongjoong, that's nonsense!" you exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"Not about your intentions," you hurried to explain. "I'm certain that you would have said it yourself if Seonghwa had given you a couple more moments to collect your thoughts."

Seonghwa shrugged in a "guilty as charged" sort of way.

"What's nonsense," you continued, "is you believing you don't deserve love or forgiveness. Everyone deserves that!"

"Even me?" Hongjoong inquired sheepishly.

"Especially you! You've been trying so hard to change. You saved me and Soojin from the fishnets and now you built this pool to make me and my sister feel comfortable. If that's not reason enough to be deserving of forgiveness, I don't know what is."

"Do you really mean that?" Hongjoong asked self-consciously.

"Would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

"She has a point. Y/N's super honest about everything," Soojin yelled from the other side of the pool.

"Soojin! You're not supposed to be eavesdropping!" you scolded her.

"Can't help it, you guys are not exactly keeping your voices down."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Do you believe me now?" you said quiet enough for only Hongjoong and Seonghwa to hear.

"I do," Hongjoong whispered, visibly relieved.

"Told you so," Seonghwa muttered under his breath.

"Oh, give me a break."

"Not a chance," Seonghwa smirked and kissed Hongjoong's cheek quickly. Then, he leaned down over the pool's edge to kiss your lips. No sooner had he done that than Hongjoong pushed him inside the water. That was followed by Seonghwa's loud protests.

"Hey! That was exactly how I met Y/N!" he exclaimed a bit later.

"Yeah?" Hongjoong scratched the back his head, as if to search his memory.

"I mean, if you hadn't thrown me overboard, I wouldn't have ended up in a whirlpool and Y/N wouldn't have saved me."

"So, what you're saying is I'm responsible for whatever the two of you have got going on?" Hongjoong joked.

"Don't exclude yourself from the narrative!" you started tickling Hongjoong's legs. Not expecting the attacks, he lost his balance for a moment. But that moment was long enough for you to pull him inside the pool, as well.

"Ugh, no way!" he bemoaned his defeat.

"Who's making all these waves?" Soojin complained. "For a second, I thought I was back in the sea."

The three of you laughed simultaneously, exchanging conspiratorial glances.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa's POV

As I looked at Hongjoong and Y/N laughing in unison, I couldn't help but wonder why we had wasted so much time. I would give anything to have had this perfect peace between the two of them from the very beginning. And yet, this was our journey. Flawed, full of fears and frustrations, but it was ours. And no one could take that away. Or so I thought...

That night, I returned to Hongjoong's room. I was determined to do right by him. And the only way to achieve that was to swallow my pride and talk to him honestly. I didn't want anything standing in the way of our happiness, least of all, our own foolishness. So, I took the first step.

"You still have free space for me?" I asked, a bit nervously, after he opened the door.

"You'll always have a home with me, Hwa," Hongjoong replied sweetly.

"Fuck, I missed you," I admitted. "I know we're literally a few doors apart, but still."

"I get it. You have no idea how badly I've missed you, too," he confessed.

"I want to kiss you," I said suddenly. "Not like earlier," I added, referring to the quick peck on his cheek. "Like before."

"Then, what are you waiting for?" Hongjoong panted desperately.

"I need to tell you something first. I just...want to be completely honest with you. You've probably figured it out already but...I love you. And I love Y/N. Please don't ask me to choose. I can't."

Hongjoong nodded in understanding.

"I wouldn't. I've learned my lesson already. And since we're being honest, I don't want you to choose. I was wrongfully prejudiced against mermaids. But now that I've gotten to know her...I like Y/N and I think I might even grow to love her one day."

I smiled fondly, proud of Hongjoong's change of heart.

"There's nothing that would make me happier, Joongie," I told him and was just about to close the distance between us with a kiss when Hongjoong placed his hand on my chest as if to stop me. I looked at him utterly confused. "Didn't you want this?"

"I did. I do," he corrected himself. "But I have to tell you something. Before it's too late. I would hate to see another secret destroy what we have."

"What's wrong?" I immediately sensed it must have been something really difficult to talk about, judging by Hongjoong's miserable expression.

"Remember that time Yeosang was in Mingi's territory and my ship caught up with his at a suspiciously fast pace?"

I nodded, already hating the direction in which this was going.

"And remember you confronted me about it but I refused to tell you the truth?"

He was stalling. It was beyond obvious and a bit aggravating.

"What did you do?" I asked directly.

"I kinda made a deal with a demon and sold my soul," Hongjoong blurted out.

What. The. Fuck?!?!

"Kinda? You can't just kinda summon a demon! Hongjoong, what the hell were you thinking?"

"We could have lost Yeosang!" he argued. "It was the only way."

"There's always another way! I can't believe you would do something so reckless..."

"I would do it again if it means Yeosang gets to live."

I sighed, unable to find the energy to scold him any further. He probably felt like shit already, considering he'd been keeping it a secret.

"How much?"

"How much what?"

"How much time do you have left until the demon comes to collect? A month? A year?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "The demon didn't specify. He just said he'll take my soul when I've achieved true happiness. Whatever that means. But the fact that you and Y/N forgave me has made me believe true happiness is not too far around the corner."

"We'll figure out a way to stop the demon. I don't know how but we will. I just got you back again. I won't give you up. Never again," I promised and wrapped my hands around his face, kissing him. He quickly let me in and ran his hands through my hair, moaning into my mouth. I smirked against his lips. It was nice to see I still had that effect on him.

"Together?" Hongjoong murmured once I broke the kiss.

"Always," I confirmed and stroked his cheeks.

To be continued...

[calaofnoldor]

Dean, Don’t

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 1,906

Summary: You’re heavily pregnant and highly irritable. Luckily, Sam Winchester is the sweetest moose to ever moose.

Warnings: pregnancy (and all its related symptoms), ill-fated attempt at humor, disgustingly sweet fluff (seriously, you’re gonna need a tooth brush)

A/N: this might be my first ever attempt at this genre, so please don’t judge me too harshly :)

MASTERLIST

“Wow… geez, you look ready to-“

“Dean,” Sam shot his brother a warning glance as he guided you into the kitchen, a giant palm held gently against your aching lower back, “Don’t.”

Dean quickly raised his hands and the gesture, together with his wide eyes, seemed to say ‘I wasn’t gonna say anything!’, although you knew that was far from the truth. In fact, you knew exactly what he was thinking because you’d been thinking it too – every hour of every day. It was safe to say you really didn’t need any reminders of your current condition.

“Y/N’s already having a rough time with the twins keeping her up all night, and she’s been extra sore lately,” your moose came to your rescue as always. Sam had been doing that a lot recently, not only by shielding you from Dean’s crude comments (and consequently protecting Dean from your wrath as well), but also by comforting and distracting you from the woes of your third trimester.

“Well at least it’ll be over soon, right?” Dean tried again.

“Not soon enough,” you grumbled in reply, before attempting to stretch out your spine with an unfiltered groan of discomfort.

“Aaand, that’s my cue to leave!” Dean announced, grabbing his plate of bacon to go and sauntering off, though not before sending his little brother an exaggerated ‘good-luck-with-that’ expression.

Sam rolled his eyes despite feeling somewhat relieved by his brother’s departure, then turned back to you. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you off your feet.” He wore a sweet sympathetic smile; it was one he had been donning often as of late, but it only worsened your mood.

“Sam, I’m fine. I can’t be constantly sitting or lying down!” You barked irritably, but when you noticed the sad puppy dog look on your boyfriend’s face, your attitude instantly withered.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just hate this so much.” Your fingers began to massage your temples as your mouth continued to utter the words that took you beyond the point of no return, “I’m a hunter, you know? I’m supposed to be able to take down monsters with the swing of my machete! I used to be able to roundhouse kick those inhuman bastards when I wanted to, and now I can’t even put my own socks on!” That much was true. Sam had helped you with your socks earlier that morning.

“And sometimes you being so overprotective only makes me feel more useless,” you added with a defeated huff.

Sam waited patiently until he was certain your little tirade was over. “I know exactly what you’re capable of, Y/N; you never have to remind me. And I can guarantee that you will still be able to do all those things… after you’ve given birth to our beautiful babies, and your body recovers from this drastic change it’s endured.”

He moved closer to you and extended one hand to caress the side of your face, while the other splayed across your immensely swollen stomach. “But baby, right now, at 39 weeks pregnant with twins, you’re not supposed to be able to do all that. I wouldn’t want you to be doing all that,” he chuckled lightly with the afterthought as he pictured your heavily expectant form attempting one of your famous round house kicks.

You raised a brow at him, knowing how his mind worked, and he immediately sobered, “Y/N, my point is you don’t realize how incredibly strong you are already, even without all the pregnant kung fu fighting you seem to be so keen on.”

Although you were tempted to roll your eyes at his teasing, the boyish grin he cast you couldn’t be resisted, and the corners of your lips begrudgingly lifted. But a sudden lurch in your belly wiped the smile promptly from your features.

“Oh,” you breathed in a gasp, placing your hands upon the area of assault.

“What? What is it?” Sam questioned worriedly, as he too moved both his hands to your baby bump. His eyes flickered frantically between your face and stomach, trying to read the situation for himself.

“Nothing, just a really strong kick, I think,” was your reply after a pause. You looked up at him with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. He returned it with a certain tinge of apprehension, so you grabbed his hand and placed it where one of your wayward twins was moving erratically within you.

No matter how many times Sam felt it, he couldn’t help but beam with pride and elation at the thought of his children growing stronger each day, and the fact that you were the one fostering their development made him truly believe he was the luckiest man alive in that moment.

“Wow, I guess they’re really ready to come out, huh?”

“Maybe,” you mused, “Or maybe they’ll choose to torture me for another week. I’m not getting my hopes up.”

Still fondling your belly with one hand, Sam used his other to turn your face towards his. “I am really sorry that you’re hurting. I wish I could make it stop.” He said it with such sincerity, you were almost inclined to forgive him. Almost.

“I would say ‘it’s not your fault’, but it kinda is,” came your playful response, which happily earned you a loving kiss.

When his lips left yours, you continued, “Also, as if the fact that two of your swimmers managed to make it to my eggs wasn’t enough, did you really have to make both of them Winchester-sized too?” You motioned vaguely to the wide expanse of your front side.

Sam said nothing, but rewarded you with a hearty laugh and a second kiss.

Later that day, as you sat snuggled between Sam’s lengthy and outstretched limbs on the bed, the two of you absent-mindedly watched an old classic movie play out on the television. His lips grazed your hairline every few minutes and his hands rubbed incessant circles on your extended stomach.

“How do you know our babies will be beautiful?” You questioned Sam abruptly, your eyes never leaving the screen.

His chest rumbled with a deep chortle that resonated through your back and caused you to smile in turn. “Well, they’ve got you for a mother, don’t they?”

“Psh! You forgot to mention that they’ve also got a father who looks like he was sculpted by the Greek gods! But that’s not the point; genetics is based on chance.” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes.

“Fine. I just have a feeling then, OK?” Sam shut you up with a quick kiss to the lips and you of course assented.

“Do you still think they’re going to be girls?”

“I hope so,” he replied with a pensive smile.

You studied his elegant features for a minute before feeling a smirk form on your own face. “Well too bad, they’re both boys.”

“What? How do you know?” Sam’s brow furrowed in that way you always thought made him look unbelievably adorable, especially for a man of his stature.

“I just have a feeling, OK?” You quoted back at him. “They call it mother’s intuition.”

Sam’s grin returned and you couldn’t remember feeling better in the past month. Dean hadn’t disturbed you all day since the incident in the kitchen, and the support of Sam’s solid torso pressed against your back seemed to be alleviating some of the strain from your body.

But alas, nothing is ever what it seems when you’re living with the Winchesters. A sudden splash of fluid upon the sheets interrupted your scarce and apparently fleeting moment of peace.

It took you a moment to register the wetness between your legs, although Sam was already one step ahead of you. “DEAN!” he hollered towards the hall.

“Sam, I think my water just broke,” you told him in a slight trance.

“Yeah, I know, baby. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and changed.” Sam’s voice was soothing and you began to follow his lead, slowly rising to your feet as he supported you from behind.

Just then, Dean came barreling in, brandishing his gun as his eyes searched frantically for any potential sources of peril. His green gaze turned befuddled upon finding no clear cause for distress.

“Dean, go get the Impala ready. Y/N’s in labor.” Sam’s voice held that composed and assertive edge which it often did when he took the lead on hunts. You would have found it awfully attractive under different circumstances.

As it were, a fresh contraction tore through you when you reached the dresser, and you were forced to bend over to weather the impact, your breathing becoming a little uneven. Sam’s arms were instantly around you, while the sight of your hunched and gravid form awoke Dean from his stupor.

He cleared his throat and his voice seemed a little gruffer than usual, “Uh, OK. Right. So… the bags? What do I need?”

“I’ll get the bags. Just get the damn car ready, Dean.”

Still the older Winchester stood transfixed in his spot, his eyes were somewhat unfocused. “Wow. So this is really happening…”

“Dean!”

“Yeah! On it! Got it! Uh… fight the fairies, Y/N! We got this.” And with that, he finally took off for the garage.

You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself, “He’s right, you know? This is really happening.”

Sam turned around and held your gaze with such reverence and fondness, you nearly melted right then. “I know,” he stated simply, before he crashed his lips to yours in a rushed yet zealous smooch.

“Ow! Yeah, OK, I think the twins are sick of our antics already,” you gushed through gritted teeth as another tightening of your middle took over.

Sam cupped your stomach gingerly on either side, as if he could somehow abate the pain with his touch. “Right, let’s hurry it up then. I think all that soreness you felt before and the twins’ heightened movement might’ve been a sign of early labor.”

“You’re such a nerd, you know that?”

He only responded with knowing smirk, then continued to help you get changed so he could usher you out the door.

Dean met you outside, where he stood by the shiny black car, looking a little more prepared for action than earlier. “You guys good?”

“Yeah, are you?” Sam asked, a bit dubiously.

“Hey, I’m ready to get this show on the road!”

“Am I gonna fit?” You eyed the Impala with slight apprehension. You had always been a fan of the classic car before, but now that Sam had fertilized you so thoroughly, the backseat seemed a lot more daunting.

“Of course, my girl can handle anything. She’ll get you to the hospital in no time so that you can have my nieces.”

“Nephews,” you corrected, but nodded anyway and allowed Sam to help you inside the vehicle.

The boys stood outside for a moment longer. “You alright, Sammy?”

Sam was glowing and Dean couldn’t have repressed the surge of love and pride that rose within him if he tried, despite his ‘no chick flick moments’ rule.

“Yeah, I’ve never been better, Dean.”

“Speak for yourself, asshole!” You would later blame the contraction for your foul language, but it was your shouting through the window that ultimately got you on the road.

“Yeah alright, we’re going! Just don’t be having any babies in my Baby!”

“Dean,” Sam’s bitch face revealed itself once more, “Don’t.”

→ CARRY ON

A/N #2: thank you so much for reading! btw, if any of you sam girls wanna show off your love for the giant adorkable moose man, there’s a ‘sammy the moose’ print now available at lexicolor.redbubble.com!

also available in various styles, as well as on mugs, notebooks, phone cases, and a bunch of other stuff! and if you’re more of a dean girl, i got you covered too 😉❤️

[sweetbunnykook]

Forget-Me-Not

Adopted!JK x Detective!Noona - Oneshot/Drabble

Warning: taboo relationship, angst (manipulation/unhealthy boundaries)

Word: 1,855

Synopsis: Jungkook prepares to surprise you during Halloween but you have other plans that fuel his insecurities.  

A/N: I combined most, if not all, of the drabble ideas you guys sent me. Thank you and I hope you enjoy this drabble that is borderline a oneshot! ♥ Everyone had such wonderful ideas I couldn’t just choose one. I also had to force myself to stop writing because it was going to turn into a chapter. 

Jungkook just wanted to spend Halloween with you in peace. That was it. Just you and him, in front of the television, wrapped under a single blanket, wearing matching clothes and drinking warm tea. He even planned to order food from your favorite fried chicken restaurant with the little money he made doing art commissions. It was supposed to be a surprise and you were supposed to be jumping with joy when you see him holding two tea mugs in his hands, wearing a pumpkin patterned pajama pants and a large plain white cotton shirt big enough for you to climb inside in its warmth.

Is it surprising that when you walked downstairs, saddle bag in hand, dressed in an outfit he’s never seen before (a dress that was certainly revealed too much of your decolletage), he would be furious?

“Where are you going, mom?”

He can feel his stomach drop when your bright eyes suddenly dimmed upon seeing the cups in his hand and his eyebrows furrowed.

“I…” You struggle to find the words, knowing that his gaze is steadily trailing up and down your body. You’ve never dressed like this for any of your previous dates and Jungkook dreaded that you were going to end up in another man’s house, in another man’s bed, and come back reeking of this bastard’s cologne.

“I have a d-date,” your meek reply comes as you walk down the last few flights of stairs and open the shoe closet, grabbing a pair of boots and a clean pair of socks, your back towards him.

“With the same guy?” Jungkook’s voice lowers and you can hear the clinking of porcelain as he sets down the mugs on the coffee table, next to the rental DVD.

You nod. “Yeah.”

When you risk a glance towards him, you regret it immediately. Jungkook’s fists are clenched at his sides, his jaw is tight, and his eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

“Kookie,” you sigh, dropping your shoes back onto the rack to stride towards his tall figure cloaked in semi-darkness. “I’ll be back soon, maybe around midnight, okay?”

“The last time you said that you didn’t even come home. I was worried sick.” Jungkook pulls away from you when you reach to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’m a detective,” you chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. The pitter-patter of the rain outside isn’t helping nor is Jungkook’s anger seeping out of every pore. “You know there’s nothing to worry ab-“

“It’s easy for you to say, mom. It’s easy for you to pick up your bag and go because you never look forward to our plans like I do. You never think for a second that maybe I want to spend the night with you and not have to wait for your leftover time like…like a pet.”

Has he always felt that way? It seems almost impossible given you spent your waking hours showering him with affection.

You pressed your lips together. “I didn’t know we were going to spend time today and I always, always prioritize your needs above mine. Don’t ever say that to me. Where is this coming from? Jungkook, if you need me to-”

Whatever you said might have struck a nerve within him for he flinched backwards, shaking his head.

“Forget it,” Jungkook takes the mugs back from the coffee table and paces towards the kitchen, knowing you’re trailing behind in concern as you struggle once more to keep him calm.

He knows he’s being unfair. He knows that you may have forgotten to tell him you were going on a date today, that it was his fault for planning a surprise on a holiday when you’re free from work. You only went on your rare dates on your day offs when you didn’t need to go grocery shopping or tend to other household responsibilities. The fact that you bought a new dress tells him all he needs to know about how much you looked forward to this night, even forgiving his snide remarks about your date when you first introduced him months ago. You don’t deserve to be treated this way and it makes Jungkook’s eyes fill with tears not just from frustration but from guilt that you ended up with him, a burden. This wounded, bleeding burden of a boy who falls more and more in love with you as the years go by.

Jungkook hates your little dates where you most likely had sex before coming back to him. The idea of a man kissing your soft nipples, your full hips, the inside of your thighs – it makes him sick with wrath. Jungkook hates that you still see him as the boy you took under your wings all those years ago. Jungkook hates that you’re so comfortable walking around in a towel in front of him because you don’t see him as a man; he knows you would never be that carefree with a date. He owns a piece of you that no other man can see. But his punishment is that he’s kept in this mold of the adopted son he desperately wants to be rid of. Changing his body to become stronger, becoming independent, pretending to be mature most of the time about the idea that a stepfather can appear in his life at any time – Jungkook was sick of it. He was sick of it all.

He throws the mugs in the sink, the two porcelain clattering in cacophony as it hits the sink and cool tea swirls down the drain.

“Jungkook…” your strained, mournful voice reaches his ears and his heart breaks. He can’t breathe, he needs to get out of there, he needs to get out fast.

“Kookie, wait-” You reach for him once more but he turns back into the living room, taking the rental DVD in his hands before he takes the flyer for your favorite restaurant laying haphazardly and balls the paper in his fist.

He skips up the stairs, noticing that you didn’t follow him this time. Somehow that makes it hurt even more.

Jungkook throws the DVD and paper on his bed and opens his closet, reaching for a pair of black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. He sheds off the plain shirt and pajama pants (so much for October festivity) and quickly change into the black set, keeping an ear out for the sound of the front door closing. He grabs his cellphone, his wallet, and keys off the textbooks stacked on his desk and shoves them into his pocket. For a moment he catches his reflection from the mirror pinned to the closet door and Jungkook decides, from his teary red face, that he hates himself more than he hates your dates and your cluelessness.

He’s gotten taller, much taller, stronger, smarter, but emotionally he is still the boy you rescued all those years ago. He’s still the boy who looked up at you and called you his superhero and smiled through the bloody black and purple bruises on his face when you held him and sobbed.

Jungkook slams the door shut behind him as he walks away from the comfort of his bedroom. Stepping down the stairs, he’s surprised to see you sitting on the couch, your feet still bare and your phone clutched in your hand. Why haven’t you left?

“Kookie I’m-“ You pause. You take notice of his attire and take a deep breath. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Out where?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Please don’t do this,” your voice cracks and Jungkook grinds his teeth. Yes, he hates himself more than ever. He’s self-centered, dramatic, and immature, he thinks, it’s no wonder you won’t see him as anything other than a child. Hell, being regarded as a dog would be better.  

“Just go on your date, mom. Sorry for ruining your perfect night or whatever and tell him I said hi.”

Jungkook walks past you to grab his backpack. He won’t be able to focus on schoolwork and he doesn’t have anywhere else to go except Jimin’s house yet he slumps the bag over his shoulder anyway.

“I canceled the date. I’m not going anywhere,” You grab his sleeve, halting him in his tracks before wrapping your arms around him. He’s gotten so large that your fingers barely touch when you hold him.

He’s silent for a second, harsh breaths gradually fading to soft sighs when he hears you sniffle once and lay your forehead on his back.

“…You didn’t have to do that.”

You shake your head. “I should have expected that you’d do something special.”

“It’s not your fault…” Jungkook can see the porcelain cups in the sink from where he’s standing. His cup and yours, the handles designed to fit each other like puzzle pieces. “I’m…I’m just…”

How does he admit that he’s throwing a tantrum because he wants you all to himself? How does he admit that it was unreasonable of him to expect you to read his mind? How does he admit that his heart feels like it’s about to pounce right out of his chest when you’re not near him? It was embarrassing enough for him to slip into your bed at night while you sleep, lying about his nightmares to earn the privilege of your gentle fingers brushing through his hair in your sleepy daze. He might die of shame if he admits that he’s been daydreaming about a night like this when you can be at ease and when he can pretend he’s your lover and pull you close.

Halloween has always been a tradition – not a strict tradition but a tradition nonetheless that is not disrupted by strangers. He’s way past the age of bouncing off the walls for candy and horror movies but he’d hoped that, the older he gets, this ritual of spending time with you and living out a part of his fantasies during special days won’t perish.

“I’m sorry, mom.” Jungkook murmurs at last, letting the rattle of the kitchen windows from the rain keep him grounded. “I…I didn’t mean to be like this. I wanted to surprise you and I just…I got angry and it wasn’t right. I’m sorry. Can you call him again and-?”

“No.”

Jungkook swallows. Forgiveness feels so out of reach. It feels…

“I don’t want to call him.” You continue. “I want to be here with you…if you’ll have me.”

He turns, making you tilt your head towards him to reveal your watery eyes, and wrap his arms around your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your perfume smells like heaven. You smell like heaven and you feel ever better pressed to him; soft against solid, molded like the puzzle piece patterned mugs in the sink.

“Do you even have to ask, mom?…I want you here with me. It’s…it’s okay, right? You won’t be mad at me?”

You peck his cheek, tucking your sorrow deep inside like the same way you’ll fold this new dress into a bag and return it to the boutique.

“I will never make you feel alone.”

[the-sympathetic-villain]

The Stowaway’s Heart - Chapter 6

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Virgil is rescued by selkies after being abandoned at sea and brought back to their pod to recover. Virgil’s poor, gay heart may just explode from how attractive they all are.

Word Count: 6214

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, Play fighting, Sexual innuendo, copious amounts of romance/flirting, kissing, mentions of past abandonment/abuse, Brief anger/lashing out, Scars (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

-

    “You’re sure?”

    “Love, I feel the need to point out that this is the twelfth time you’ve inquired on this subject.” Virgil could hear the subtle teasing in Logan's tone as he continued to reassure him. “Given the consistency of my responses, most people would conclude it is highly improbable that my answer has changed.”

     Virgil turned his head,  smiling sheepishly, as he glanced over his shoulder at Logan, keeping his hands on the bars where he’d been staring out into the dark tunnels. Almost immediately after turning his head, he felt his anxiety melt away as he took in the sight of his soulmates curled up on the bed together. Remus curled around Logan’s back. His arm wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist and his face was buried up against the back of Logan's head, features obscured by Logan’s disheveled hair. Virgil couldn't resist a shy smile as Logan smirked up at him from where he was tucked underneath Remus' arm.

    He blushed, tucking his hands timidly behind his back as he slowly turned toward Logan. “Just once more, Lo.”

    Logan rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh. His eyes sparkled as he recited the same lecture he'd given Virgil a dozen times at this point. “I am certain you are ready to meet Janus, Virgil. The last few days has provided satisfactory proof that you are more than capable of handling Remus’ and my pelts.”

    Virgil nodded, dropping his gaze as he attempted to control his nervous breathing. What-if's and worst-case scenarios played through his head as he leaned back against the bars.

     “Dearest, our pelts should cause the most intense emotional impact for you to hold because of our soul connections. Roman and Patton’s pelts would be similar to one of ours but with significantly less overstimulation.”

    Virgil leaned against the bars, shifting his feet as he felt a pit form in his stomach  “But this guy's pelt is different, right? What if I can't—”

    “Janus’ pelt does not have the same effect as the rest of us but I assure you there is no risk of you being overwhelmed by his pelt.” Logan  exhaled slowly, patiently looking up at him as Remus snored into his hair. “I promise you will be okay, Virgil.”

    “Sorry, Lo.” A smile tugged at Virgil’s lips as he tucked his chin to his chest, hoping to hide the redness in his cheeks. “I know you've told me this a thousand times already, but I hate waiting. I just want to get this over with.”

    “Some nervousness is to be expected, love.” Logan whispered, his tone soft and comforting. “You are submitting yourself to the judgment of an unknown party. That in itself is an intimidating prospect but the process is not as intrusive as you are imagining.”

    Virgil looked up at him, biting his lip. “How do you know?”

       “Janus has done readings for all of our podmates at some point or another throughout our lives. Honestly, the experience can be pleasantly enlightening ” Logan paused, his eyes hovering closed for a moment as he shifted closer to Remus. “and certainly nothing worth distressing yourself over.

    “Are you sure—” Virgil nearly bit his tongue as Logan shot open and he raised an eyebrow at Virgil. Something in Logan’s gaze sent chills up his spine and he knew he was in trouble. “I'm sorry, Lo. I didn’t mean it—”

    He could handled Logan being irritated at his continual need for reassurance, but to Virgil’s dismay, his mouth curled into a mischievous smile sending nervousness coursing through his body as Remus shifted behind him.

    “Leave me alone, Lolo.” Remus slurred his words sleepily, his voice muffled gently by Logan’s hair. “I'm sleepin'.”

    “Re,” Logan whispered, just loud enough for Virgil to hear. He kept his eyes fixed on Virgil. A smile spread wide across his face as he gently nudged Remus awake. “Virgil’s feeling nervous about meeting Jan.”

     Virgil sucked in a breath as Remus'  green eyes peeked over Logan's shoulder with a dangerous glimmer. Chaos sparkled in Remus’ eyes as he released an exaggerated sigh, lifting his head up to cradle in the nook of Logan’s shoulder. Remus smiled at up a Virgil with an innocent flutter of his eyelashes. “Jan is going to shred you into tiny strips and feed you to the fishes as his uses your bones to pick his teeth—"

    “Re,” Logan warned with a gentle teasing in his voice, smiling as Virgil’s mouth dropped in terror. “I did not wake you so that you would terrorize him.”

     “Liar,” Remus nipped lightly at Logan’s neck, holding his waist so he couldn’t escape from Remus grip. He snarled playfully into Logan’s ear and Logan let out a breathless whine. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

    Virgil relaxed for a moment as he watched Logan giggle as he squirmed in Remus' arms. He took a breath, letting his gaze fall from his soulmates as worry crept back into his mind. Subtle worries replayed in his mind until he noticed the room had fallen silent. When he turned his head up, his muscles tensed. Logan paused mid-whisper into Remus' ear and turned back to Virgil.  A devious smile curled on Remus' lips as he whispered into Logan’s ear loud enough for Virgil to hear. “Good idea, Lolo.”

    Already on edge, Virgil stumbled back, nearly slipping backward as Remus nimbly hopped up off the bed and scurried toward him. He gave an undignified squeak as Remus swept him off his feet and carried him bridal style over to the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Logan push himself up, leaning back against the wall with a hungry look in his eyes as they approached him. Virgil reached up to wrap his arms around Remus' neck but before he could latch on, a shriek escaped him as Remus gave him a swing and he flew less than gracefully through the air, landing between Logan’s legs. Logan's arms wrapped around his shoulders with a iron and Remus collapsed below them curling himself around Virgil’s legs and resting his head on Virgil’s stomach.

    “What are you doing?” Virgil whined, burning red as his voice cracked. His breath caught in his throat as his skin tingled happily. He barely contained his smile, feigning a disgruntled whimper as his soulmates’ warmth surrounded him.

    “Distracting you, love." Logan whispered, breathing softly into Virgil’s ear. Virgil cooed as Logan's lips brushed his neck and his breath became shallow. “You have nothing to worry about, my dear.”

    “Nah,” Remus purred, closing his eyes and curling comfortably onto Virgil’s lap. Virgil closed his eyes, sighing breathlessly as Remus' subtle movements brushed against his skin. “Janus is a catty bastard but he doesn’t got it in him to actually hurt anyone.

    “What if I say something wrong?’ Virgil muttered helplessly, closing his eyes as the feelings consumed him.

    “There are no wrong answers. This is not a test.” Logan reassured him. “Janus' reading will simply tell him about who you are and show you details about what lies in your future. It will not change the fact that you are staying here with us.”

    “What's the point then?” Virgil breathed slowly, looking up at Logan. “Why do I have to do this before I leave?”

    “Jannie just likes to know everyone’s dirty, little secrets, but don't worry.” Remus chuckled and looked up at Virgil  with a wink. “He's not a kiss-and-tell kind of guy.”

    “Secrets—” Virgil asked breathlessly before another wave of shock settled over him, tensing in Logan’s arms as he frantically leaned forward to look at Remus. “Wait—what do you mean kiss,  Re?!”

    “Relax, love.” Logan chuckled quietly. His grip tightened around Virgil and he rested his chin on Virgil’s shoulder. “No one is kissing you but me.”

    “—and me.” Remus waved his free arm up at them lazily so that Virgil had to lean away to avoid Remus smacking him repeatedly in the face. Virgil groaned but he couldn’t resist smiling as Remus curled himself tighter around his legs.

    “Do you feel better, love?” Logan whispered, holding him closer aa he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

    “Yeah, Lo.” Virgil breathed loudly, tapping his fingers happily on his legs as his skin tingled at his soulmates’ touch. “I feel better.”

    “Good,” Remus whispered, closing his eyes. “No more worrying.”

    Virgil hummed, leaning into Logan's shoulder. “When is he coming, Lo?”

     “Soon enough,” Logan whispered. “but I cannot say for certain. I can't mentally nudge him or Roman like I can Remus.”

    “Why not?” Virgil muttered tiredly, closing his eyes.

    Logan chuckled. “Because Janus isn't my soulmate, Virgil.”

    Virgil blinked, turning up to Logan. “Does that mean you can do that to me, Lo?”

    Logan nodded slowly on his shoulder.

    “Huh,” Virgil breathed, deep in thought. “Why haven't you?”

    “It was never necessary—”

    “—and it feels real funny the first time.” Remus muttered. “Like you got worms in your brain.”

    Virgil felt Logan smile against his neck as he giggled. “That is also a significant concern when you are unaware of what to expect.”

    Virgil smiled, stretching his muscles as his soulmates settled in closer.

    “Listen, Virgil.” Logan paused and Virgil could feel him breathe next to his ear. “There are some things about Janus we should discuss before you actually meet him.”

    Virgil looked up and Logan smiled sadly down at him. He stared up at Logan for a long moment before Remus sigh pulled him from his thoughts. Virgil looked down as Remus sat up and turned to face them. Virgil found himself staring at Remus' serious expression. He leaned forward, pulling himself out from where he sat between Logan’s legs. Moving to sit between his soulmates, he looked between their weary expressions.

    “What kind of things?” Virgil started nervously.

    “Jan's a bit different than the rest of us.” Remus smiled weakly. “He's a precious bugger and we love the shit out of him, but he had bit of a rough patch of luck before he ended up stuck with us.”

    “You see,” Logan paused until Virgil turned back to him. “though we are all selkies, there are subtle differences between us based on our kindred seal species." Logan gestured to Remus. “For instance, brown fur seals are vocal, social creatures that tend be brazen in face of danger. Therefore, Remus and Roman take on an exaggerated form of those traits. It's a feeling you’ve likely noticed as you held his pelt.”

    Virgil nodded, looking cautiously at Remus as he processed Logan’s words.

    Logan smiled. “Spotted seals, like myself and Patton tend to be inquisitive, quick-learning and attentive to each other. Therefore, Patton and I act in a similar fashion and my pelt resonates with mental clarity and compassion.”

    “Okay.” Virgil looked between them, contemplating their words. “That all makes sense so far, but how’s Janus different?”

    “Janus' kindred are harp seals, which for the most part are similar to a spotted seal like Patton and I, except perhaps less inquisitive and more compassionate.” Logan paused. “Janus is unique for more than just being the only of his species in our pod though.”

    “How?” Virgil pressed.

    “Selkies are like magical creatures, right?” Remus gestured dramatically. “Well, some of us are born packing a little extra juice. Gives us extra abilities and Janus was unfortunate enough to landed with two of the damn things.”

    “Unfortunate?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Isn't extra power a good thing?”

    “We think so and that's why Janus lives with us,” Logan smiled at him. “Despite their docile nature, selkies are not great at handling those who are different, especially when it's one of their own.”

    “You’re talking like you aren’t one, Lo.” Virgil stared at him, taken aback by the sudden edge in Logan’s tone.

    “Sometimes, I am less than proud of my heritage, love.” Logan muttered and the bitterness in his voice unsettled him. He opened his mouth to speak but Remus cut him off before he got the chance.

    “Listen, most pods have dozens of members, but Jannie's is the last of our little patchwork family for you to meet.” Remus hummed, looking up at Virgil. “The four of us were forced out of our pods by shit far out of our control. Shitty situations all around and Jan just happened to get it worse than, uh…” Remus paused, glancing up at Logan. “well, worse than most of the rest of us anyway.”

    Virgil quickly glanced at Logan beside him, noticing his demeanor had changed. Suddenly, Virgil could see tension in his shoulders and his usually bright expression had dulled. He hesitated, slowly tearing his eyes from Logan as he looked back to Remus. “Why were you guys—”

    “The reason why is irrelevant.” Logan cut him off dryly. His face curled into a snarl as he dropped his head to his chest, running his finger through his hair.

    Virgil flinched at Logan’s tone, immediately regretting his question. “I'm sorry. You’re right—I shouldn’t have—”

    “Hey now. Don't get all flustered on us now.” Remus purred with a reassuring wink. “It's cute and all, but it’s not necessary. That’s a natural question to ask,” Remus put a hand gently on Logan’s leg. “but Lolo’s right. That's a story for another day.”

    Virgil watched as Logan lifted his head and smiled at Remus with tired smile. He slowly slid his hand over, curling his fingers around Remus'. The subtle adoration in Logan’s eyes as he looked to Remus warmed Virgil's heart, but nearly as quickly as it had come, it faded away. Virgil frowned as Logan looked away, distant as he lost himself in his thoughts again.

    He turned an uneasy glance at Remus and he could tell Remus had noticed the same regression in Logan’s mood. Remus cast a sympathetic smile at Virgil noticing his concern before his mustache curled into devious smile. Virgil blinked briefly in confusion. His mouth hung agape as Remus winked at him, tightening his grip on Logan’s hand. Logan glanced up briefly in confusion before used Logan’s tight grip to leverage his weight to lunge himself across Virgil’s lap towards Logan. Virgil ducked and Logan let out an undignified squeak of shock as Remus tipped him back onto the bed. Virgil smiled, crossing his arms over his knees as he watched Logan blush. Logan relaxed as Remus perched on top of him, straddling his chest and pinning his arms to his sides.

    “Let me go, Re—” Logan muttered breathlessly as he squirmed under Remus' weight. His face reddened and a smile spread across his face as Remus pecked kisses into his neck. “Your mustache tickles—”

    “No. Kisses now.” Remus muttered petulantly and Logan whined pitifully as Remus' deep growl tickled his neck. He nuzzled into Logan’s hair, gently kissing Logan under his ear. “Where are you, Lolo?”

     “Here with you, Re.” Logan whispered and Virgil’s heart fluttered as Logan relaxed into his bed with a blissful smile.

    Remus leaned down and kissed Logan’s forehead hovering just above Logan’s face. “Love you, Lolo.”

    “Love you too, Re.” Logan whispered breathlessly. His face was flushed red and his hair disheveled as finally Remus pulled him upright.

    Remus slid off him, plopping himself ungracefully between Logan and Virgil. He beamed down at Logan as the satisfied selkie curled under his arm and wrapped his arm Remus’ waist.

    Virgil leaned into the wall. His heart filled with warmth as he watched his soulmates cuddle together. He chewed his lip and butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he watched Logan starry-eyed look as he stared up at Remus. Remus gently kissed the top of Logan’s head and Virgil was jolted from his thoughts as Remus turned his head ip to him. Virgil felt his heart stutter as he realized he’d been staring. His cheeks burned as he looked away. “I'm sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

    “Shut up and come over here.” Remus chuckled and extended a hand to Virgil, gesturing for him to join them.

    “Are you s-sure?” Virgil stuttered as he hesitated, biting his lip. “I-I can just watch.”

     “Kinky,” Remus giggled as the red in Virgil’s cheeks deepened and he pulled his hood over his head, realizing what he'd said. “but, no. Come here.”

    Virgil tilted his head up, peeking his eyes up nervously under the hood. Remus held opened his arm up to him again and Virgil timidly shifted closer until Remus' arm wrapped around him. Shivering at his touch, Virgil slowly relaxed into Remus’ chest.

    “Lolo needs a little help getting out of his head sometimes,” Remus sighed. “but I don’t want you to get the idea in your head that we're ignoring you—”

    Virgil looked up as Remus paused.

    “I know I'm exactly up to snuff for most people's taste. Roman and Lolo have had to put up with me since we were kids and I even think a few years with me has worn Jannie down to where he tolerates me—" Remus crooked grin beamed down at Virgil.

    “Re, Janus loves you.” Logan pecked a kiss on Remus' cheek. “As do Roman and I.”

    Virgil sensed a moment of hesitation in Remus' expression before he smiled down at Logan. “Right, Lolo. I know, but I've got a reputation to uphold."

    Remus winked down at him and Virgil melted at the soft, adoring look in his eyes as he looked down at Logan. Virgil’s skin tingled as Remus turned his sparkling green eyes back down to him.

    Damn.

    Virgil bit his lip. He felt butterflies in his stomach and he stared up at him in awe, suddenly glad his hood partially obscured his face.

    “Anyway, I get that my energy’s a turn-off for most people—"

    “What?” Virgil looked up in surprise. The shadows from his hood cast dark circles under his eyes.

    “I mean, I know I’m a hottie and all, but I get it if I'm not what you were expecting after someone as wonderful as Lolo—”

    Virgil watched, entranced by the apprehensive look on Remus’ face. His cheeks were dusted red and the corner of his mustache twitched into a frown. This was beyond what Virgil could fathom.

    He's anxious about…me?

    About me…not liking him?

    “Re, stop—" Logan’s arm tightened around Remus.

    “Lolo, it's okay. Virgil—”

    The end of Remus sentence was cut off as Virgil leaned over him and reached around the back of his head. Remus tensed for a moment as Virgil slowly leaned closer and pressed his lips gently on Remus'. Virgil grasped a handful of the man's shirt in his hand as Remus’ arm tightened around his waist. He felt his hood slip to his shoulder as the kiss lingered and they tasted each other’s breath. A quiet moment passed before Virgil slowly opened his eyes, freezing as he noticed the knowing smirk on Remus' face.

    Remus cooed with a teasing grin as he leaned closer. “You kiss like a French boy—”

    Virgil groaned, peeling away from Remus. He moved to pull his hood back over his head as his embarrassment flooded his face. “Shut up—"

    Remus chuckled with an teasing grin, gently reaching up to stop him from covering his face. “If that's what you wanted, you should have kept your tongue in my mou—”

    “Logan—" Virgil moaned, burying his head into Remus’ shoulder. “Help me—"

    “Oh, love.” Virgil’s breath caught his throat at the chill in Logan's voice as he slipped out of Remus' grip and allowed Remus to focus his energy on Virgil. I think it would be unwise for me to allow you to become dependent on me to save you.”

    “What?” Virgil muttered breathlessly as Remus nuzzled his neck. He bit his lip stifling a giggle as Remus’ face tickled his neck, not wanting to give Remus the satisfaction of tormenting him.

    “The best way for you to learn the error of your ways is to force you to deal with your own mistakes.” Logan smiled coyly at him as he squirmed in Remus’ grip. “I do believe the proper phrase is, ‘You got yourself into this mess. You can get yourself out.”

    Virgil pouted, allowing Remus to wrap around his shoulders and pull him back to Logan until Remus gently tipped him back so he lay on Remus' lap looking up at his soulmates. Still pouting, he glared up at Logan. “Traitor.”

    Logan chuckled as he reached down to run his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “Fortunately, dear one, luck seems to be on your side this time. Roman and Janus will be here any moment and we need to get back to the matter at hand before they arrive.”

    Remus grumbled. “Way to kill the mood, Lolo. I could do without listening to Jan’s tragic origin story again.”

    “So could I, Re,” Logan muttered with a frown as he wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist. “but Virgil needs to know what to expect when Janus arrives.”

    “I don't handle people hurting my friends well.” Virgil could feel Remus' voice rumble in his chest above him. There was an edge in Remus' voice that sent a shiver down his spine and he couldn't help tensing at the anger in Remus' eyes. “If I ever find those bastards, I'll personally coat them in fish bait and string them up in the water and let the fish peel their skin away layer by layer until—”

    “Re,” Logan whispered patiently, running his fingers through Remus' hair. “as much as I support your inclination to violence regarding Janus' supposed family, we are running out of time.”

    “Fine.” Remus muttered his reply, slumping into Logan's shoulder with a grunt.

   “Good,” Logan looked down at Virgil. “Love, when a selkie transitions out of childhood, their pelt undergoes both physical and magical changes as they prepare for adulthood. From what I understand, it is relatable to the process of puberty in humans, though from my understanding, the process seems significantly less distressing for selkies. Does that make sense?”

     Virgil looked to Remus' disgruntled expression before nodding and allowing Logan to continue. “For brown fur seals like Roman and Remus, it's merely a texture change, but for me, my pelt changed from a bright white color to the spotted pelt you see now. Likewise, when Patton gets older, his white coat will likely do the same.”

    Virgil nodded uncertainly when Logan looked at him for affirmation.

    “When Janus was younger, his pelt should have changed the same way,” Logan paused and Virgil could see a sad look in his eyes. “but it didn't.”

    Virgil blinked, confused. “So what?”

    “When a selkie’s pelt doesn’t change, they’re marked as an oracle, Virgil. He sees and knows things that we are unable to perceive.” Logan paused. “To be honest, he is quite a powerful ally.”

    “Wow—He can see stuff things that aren’t there? How's that work—” Virgil tapped his hand excitedly until the sad smile on Logan’s face gave him pause. He looked to Remus’ serious expression before looking back to Logan “Wait—why's that a bad thing?”

    “Selkies don't like it when one of their own suddenly doesn’t mix,” Remus whispered bitterly.

    “They isolated him, Virgil.” Logan muttered. “They told him he needed space to develop his skills, but they were simply afraid of him.”

    “Which is fuck—”

    “Re—”

    “—Stupid.” Remus spat, giving Logan a dirty look. “Janus is as harmless as a newborn pup.”

     Logan sighed, looking down at Virgil. “He sees things that no one else does. They found his unpredictable movements to be unsettling—”

    “Wait—” Virgil interrupted Logan’s explanation. “Remus said there were two things that were weird about this guy. What's the other thing?”

    “Right.” Logan paused, looking almost surprised he'd forgotten. “Well, much like the effect of my pelt has a slightly different effect than Remus’, Janus’ pelt is also unique. Unlike ours though it is not based on his kindred species, but rather a recessive trait that only appears only once every few generations even in a pod at normal capacity.”

    “Which is what?” Virgil watched Logan grow nervous, nearly covering his mouth with his hand as he tensed.

    “I am realizing I probably should have led with this topic, but you’ll recall I said I wasn’t worried about you being tempted by holding Janus’ pelt.” Logan ran his finger through his hair as Virgil nodded cautiously. “The reason for that assumption is that his pelt does not allow you to control him, but rather will have the effect of making you more…complacent.”

    “What?” Virgil’s mouth dropped.

    “The power of his pelt lowers the effect of your natural inhibitions and makes you more prone to suggestion—”

     “You’re planning on leaving me alone with him and just letting him brainwash me?” Virgil sputtered, pulling away from Remus and Logan and hopping off the bed. He stumbled off the bed spinning on them as he slowly backed into the bars. For the first time since he'd first woken up in this cell, he felt trapped.

    “No, love.” Logan pleaded, standing up. “The actual practice is more akin to hypnosis than—"

    “That's not better—” Virgil waved him away, leaning against the bars. “Do I even get a choice?”

    “Virgil, his methods are not about control. He simply opens up your psyche to being read—”

    “Sure. You’re calling it a reading like you don't mean he’s just going to force me to spill all of my secrets and then do whatever else he wants to me—”

    “It's not like that.” Virgil tore his gaze from Logan and settled bitterly on Remus, but the kindness in Remus' eyes gave Virgil pause. “Listen, Jan will know some of your dirty, little secrets just by looking at you, and we can't do anything about that, but he can't loosen your lips. Not to mention, Janus likes to get freaky but control's not really his kink.”

    Logan sighed, rolling his eyes at Remus before looking over at Virgil. “His pelt lowers your inhibitions, but your survival instincts will take over if he pries deeper than you are truly comfortable with and you can always stop. No one here will force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

   Virgil looked to Logan. “He can’t force me to do anything?”

    “No, love. If you were already considering saying or doing something, his pelt may influence you to act,” Logan smiled patiently. “but you won't say or do anything you would be adamant about not saying or doing otherwise.”

     “And I can stop?”

    “Anytime,” Logan nodded with a subtle smile. “and for any reason at all.”

     Virgil swallowed nervously. “What if he doesn't let me?”

    “He will,” Remus jumped up off the bed toward him, stopping just a few feet away from him. He extended a hand to Virgil. “but if he gives you any trouble or pressures you, you focus on needing help. We got that weird mental thing, right? If you need help, Lolo and I will be there right when you need us.”

     “Okay.” Virgil stared at him for a moment before relaxing. “Okay. I'm sorry.”

     Logan crossed his arms as his brow furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?”

    Biting his lip, Virgil was quiet. He stared down at the ground. “Because I freaked out—"

    “Your reaction was justified given what you expected to happen,” Logan paused watching as Virgil took Remus' hand and allowed him to bring him back. He looked down at Virgil with a serious expression as they approached. “I am glad we were able to rectify your understanding of the situation before you met with Janus, and perhaps, you will now understand better why Janus' pod was uncomfortable with his presence.”

    Virgil bit his lip guiltily. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to judge him.”

    “Do not apologize, love.” Logan’s expression softened and he smiled patiently as Virgil hung his head, rubbing his shoulder nervously. Logan put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder reassuringly. “Even Janus recognizes his power is intimidating. What matters most is that you try not to allow it to color your perception of him. He can be intimidating but he is a good person, Virgil.”

    Virgil nodded absently. He felt Logan’s hand drop off his shoulder as Remus pulled him into the bed and he inhaled deeply as Logan dropped down next to him. His soulmates’ wrapped their arms around his chest and his anxiety began to settle in his stomach as their gentle touches grounded him.

     “What did they do to him?”

     “Isn't it obvious?”

     A chill ran up Virgil’s spine as a deep, sinister voice resonated through the room. He shrank in between his soulmates, who both suddenly looked guilty.

     “They put with me until they could barely stomach to look at me,” Virgil heard a hiss as the unknown figure inhaled sharply. “and then they slashed my face open so I'd be shark bait if I tried to follow them or hunt for myself and then they left me for dead.”

    “Janus—"

    “Logan—” The figure interrupted him abruptly. “—if this door isn't open in the next—”

     “Of course, Jan! One second—” Logan scrambled off the bed toward the door and for the first time, Virgil caught a glimpse of the mysterious man as he curled into Remus’ arms. He barely managed to stifle a surprised gasp as he peeked over the edge of his cloak.

    The fluffy, white fur draped nearly to the slender figure’s knees. He was dressed in simple black pants and a black, silk shirt. But despite the man's elegant dress, Virgil eyes were drawn to the scars on the right side of the man's face.

    The deep cut started right at his hairline and snaked across his eye to curl under his jaw. Virgil sucked in a breath. Even in the dim light, the scar shimmered like it had been inlaid with veins of gold. Virgil’s gaze drifted up the golden scar until he locked eyes with the stranger snarling down at them. He shivered as the stranger's amber eyes locked onto him and he curled nervously into Remus' chest.

    Fortunately, his attention didn’t linger on Virgil for long. He quickly turned away as Logan pushed open the door. Logan immediately stepped out of his way, hanging his head as Janus turned to slink past him into the room. Virgil couldn’t help but stare up at the man as he came to loom over him. He was breathtaking, despite the way his gaze sent shivers through Virgil’s body whenever he managed to catch his eye.

    “Leave the door open."

    Virgil watched Logan hesitate in the door way. “But Roman—”

    “This guy's either leaving here after I'm done with him,” Virgil pulled his hood over his head as the man stared down at Remus with a wicked grin as Remus puffed up over Virgil defensively. “or he's going to escape right into your brother’s arms and Roman’s going to snap his pretty, little neck before he gets halfway down the corridor.”

     “No one is laying a finger on him—” Remus started to hiss, curling his arm around Virgil.

      “Scram,” The stranger ordered menacingly, glancing over his shoulder at Logan. “Both of you.”

     “Jan—” Remus prodded.

     “I don’t believe I stuttered, Remus.” The stranger growled and stared Remus down until he slunk off the bed toward Logan. “Go help your brother keep track of Patton. Between the three of you, maybe you can manage not to lose him.”

    Crap.

    Virgil sucked in a breath, suddenly exposed and feeling at the mercy of the man looming over him. Logan seemed to notice his discomfort, and stepped forward.

    “Janus—”

    “I said go.”

    Remus stepped forward taking Logan's hand to guide him to the door. “It's all good, Virgie. Jan's bark is worse than his bite—”

     A deep, guttural growl emanated from Janus' throat as he snapped. “Leave. Now—”

    Virgil flinched as the man snapped and watched nervously as his soulmates shrieked and fled the room. His breath caught in his throat and he shrank back, tears welling in his eyes as the man’s gaze turned back on him.

    “Please—” Virgil whimpered, burying his head in his knees. “Don’t hurt me—"

     “Hey, now.” Virgil flinched as a hand brushed against his cheek. He felt the bed shift as the man sat on the bed next to him. “There’s no need for any of that nonsense.”

     The gentle touch returned and Virgil relented, allowing the stranger to tilt his head up to look at him. Virgil blinked up at him in disbelief.

     Shit.

     The beautiful stranger smiled softly down at him. All malice was gone from his eyes and Virgil couldn't help but stare as the stranger’s scar sparkled in the flickering light. He shivered nervously as Janus fingertips brushed his jaw.  The strange man's hand drifted up his jaw, pulling his hood down off his head.

     “That's better. Isn't it, Virgil?”

     Virgil shuddered as Janus spoke his name and he watched anxiously as the stranger’s hand dropped away from his face. His eyes darted across the stranger’s friendly face, trying to explain the sudden change in his behavior.

     Janus let out a subtle,  dramatic sigh and turned his sparkling, white smile to Virgil. “You have nothing to fear from me. I'm not upset with you. Just the dimwits who shared certain details of my life without my consent.”

     “Th-they d-did it to—” Virgil pressed his back against the wall as he shuddered.

      “They want to prepare you for seeing me,” Janus supplied bitterly. “I understood what they were doing, but regardless of their intentions, that doesn’t mean they had the right to share that information.”

     “I’m s-sorry. I-I didn’t know—"

     “Hush now. I know this isn’t your fault.” Virgil looked up to Janus' soft smile. He watched nervously as the man slowly slid onto the bed next to him. Virgil flinched, anxiously tugging at his sleeve as he avoided the man’s gaze. “I apologize for scaring you. I intended to do nothing more than scare our mutual friends into being more considerate of their actions in the future.”

    “A-and me?” Virgil stuttered nervously.

    “Nothing will happen to you, Virgil.” The stranger smiled as he lay a hand on Virgil’s back, guiding him off the bed. “We will finish your reading and get you out of this sad, little hole for good.”

    “B-but Roman—” Virgil allowed himself to be stood up and he absently  followed Janus across the room.

    “—won't actually snap your neck.” Janus’ hand drifted over Virgil’s neck as he gently guided him to sit at the desk at the end of the bed. “Roman has a delicate constitution. He cannot stomach killing, even if he'd like you to believe otherwise.”

     “I—” Virgil felt a strange calm settle over him as the stranger smiled warmly at him. He dropped his head numbly, staring down at the desk in front of him.

     “You’re leaving here safely tonight.” Janus lowered himself on the bed next to Virgil, staring at him with an earnest look in his eyes. “I give you my word.”

    “Thank you.” He felt himself relax staring at the shimmering man in front of him.

    “You’re very welcome, Virgil.” Janus sighed and a tiny smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he watched Virgil closely. “I'm sorry that I scared you.”

    Virgil shrugged. “You didn't know how I was feeling.”

    Janus blinked. Virgil looked up as his amber eyes sparkled in the dim light. He noticed that Janus seemed to be watching something over his head. After a moment, Janus seemed to notice him watching and he smiled. “I should have known. I would have if I'd been paying better attention.”

    “You really see things that aren’t there, don't you?” Virgil looked at him tiredly.

    “Yes, I do,” Janus watched him warily. “Does that scare you?”

     “No.” Virgil sighed. “Why would I be?”

     “Many people find it unsettling to be in the midst of forces they cannot see or touch.” Janus whispered and Virgil sensed a touch of pain behind his words.

     “I, uh—” Virgil crossed his arms, tilting his head up to Janus. “I think it's nice. It's cool to know there's more out there.”

     “I do too," Janus smiled. “and it's actually quite beautiful.”

     Virgil smiled, fiddling with his hands nervously. “I'd like to hear more about it sometime.”

    “Certainly. I would be happy to share with you,” Janus smiled patiently. “but we should probably start, if you’re ready.”

    Virgil eyed him cautiously but nodded slowly.

     “Before we do your reading though, I believe we should address what's on your mind.” Janus prodded gently, gauging Virgil’s reaction. “Don’t you?”

    Virgil’s eyes darted up at Janus as he continued to hang his head nervously. He sighed, dropping his shoulders as he nodded complacently.

     “Very well.”

     Virgil cautiously looked up as Janus took his hand. His eyes shifted guiltily as Janus stared at him with concern in his eyes. Virgil dropped his gaze to the ground, biting his lip as he felt it tremble.

     “Who's trying to kill you, Virgil?”

-

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[billyspotato]

hi!! i have an idea for a rafe x reader imagine where she is friends with the pogues (you decide if reader is a kook or not) and dates rafe and one day the pogues catch them and they’re kinda disappointed (bc rafe u know) but in the end they accept their relationship. xx

A/N: I made the ending kinda open since in the request it’s said that they accept their relationship. Hope it’s okay.

Behind The Rocks - Rafe Cameron

Words: 3.719 words

Type: Fluff & Angst (?)

Warnings: English is not my first language, sorry for any misspelling. Female Reader. No race is mentioned.

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

You walk over to Kie’s house, stepping on the gravel while looking down at your phone. Once getting close to the front door, your finger presses the doorbell, letting Kie know that you already got to her place.

In a matter of seconds, the front door is opened and Kie is already saying her goodbyes to her parents while walking out.

“Hi,” You say, and she smiles at you.

“Hey, ready to party?” She asks and you smile back before nodding.

You are just like Kie, not a kook nor a pogue. You’re financially stable to be right in the middle. You and your parents don’t own a mansion but somewhat of a bigger sized home. And you only do part-time in the summer to support your family’s business, and not to make money to feed the family.

That reputation might change a bit when people start knowing that you’re dating the richest kid on the island.

Rafe Cameron. One of the most hated in your group of pogues. And to honest, you do believe that even some kooks hate him. And that can be because of his crazy amount of money or just his attitude, which always has the company of his massive ego right on the side.

You don’t hate him. You really like him. You’ve been dating for almost 7 months and that’s a big deal for you. Your parents like him. His parents, you mean Ward, sort of don’t hate you. And Sarah loves you, even more now that you two are on the same friend group.

You and Sarah were already friends before you started to date Rafe and she started to date John B. And once all that dating started, that small friendship grew into you two being the best of friends - which confused everyone in your group since they only know half of the story.

The thing is: nobody in your friend group knows about Rafe. They do know that you’re dating someone for a while but not who. You never showed pictures of the so-called guy back in Carolina, studying in college. Because well, that guy is Rafe.

You’ve given hints, many of them for that matter. But they never got who it was. And you’re starting to think that it’s for the better. Maybe it’s just a friendship that isn’t meant to be, you know?

Your phone vibrates as you start getting closer to the beach and you see a text from Rafe, questioning if you’re already at the party.

Going to the same parties as Rafe is risky, since, one day, one of you can always be too drunk and forget about the secrecy of the relationship. But it has worked for these past 7 months, so you two do trust each other.

“When are you going to show us who you’re dating?” Kie asks you as you walk through the wooden bridge that indicates the entrance of the beach.

“Whenever I feel like doing it” You answer, already knowing how this conversation is going to end: JJ getting in and question you the whole night.

“JJ and Pope have a bet on him not being real” Kie says, making you look at her in confusion.

“Really?” You ask and she nods, “Wow, so now I’m dating an imaginary man?”

Kie laughs at your words and tone and you two walk over to the guys, which already have two cups of beer on their hands, ready to compete between themselves.

“Hello everyone,” You say with a smile, making the guys look over at you.

They all answer back, and John B starts to count backwards starting from 3, once the word 1 rolls off his tongue, the three guys start chugging their beers. You look over at them in disgust as you see the beer rolling off their mouths to their chests.

Everyone is going to smell like beer now, nice.

You answer Rafe quickly and you thank the gods for hiding his name on your contacts to a cliché nickname, because JJ looked right at your screen, trying to read the messages.

“He’s coming to the party?” JJ asks you and you immediately start cursing in your head.

“No, he’s going to a frat party” You answer quickly before locking your phone and putting it back on your pocket.

Having your phone close to the guys makes you nervous, the amount of pictures you have with and of Rafe is embarrassing. His contact picture it’s just his smiley face - but no one can really see it, only when he calls. (Something you two don’t do when you’re hanging out with the guys). So yeah, your phone is a ticking bomb. And they just need to know your password to find out everything.

JJ sends you a playful look before going to sit next to Kie and you go get a drink with Pope, who was completely ignored by the other members of the group.

As you two are walking to the kegger you notice the new group of people walking in the beach. A tone of tourists followed by the kooks.

You hear some pogues curse out loud when seeing them and you get your attention back to Pope as he starts conversation.

“Y/N!” You hear someone scream loudly.

You look around to see Sarah running down the wooden bridge over to you. You open your arms as she gets closer and the impact of the dramatic hug almost sends you to the ground, which makes both you and Sarah laugh.

Pope smiles at the two of you and continues to fill his cup with beer.

Sarah steps away from you as you two were done with the hug and says a small ‘hi’ to Pope as she tries to calm down her breathing.

Sarah starts a conversation with Pope, and you notice how dark it’s getting. You notice the people around you start lighting the torches around everyone, and a warm light surrounds all of you.

You walk back to your friend group and notice Rafe walking in the beach, right beside Topper. Once your eyes meet, Rafe sends you his usual wink and you try to hide your smile.

“Why are you so smiley all of a sudden?” JJ asks, making you look right at him, “Did your secret boyfriend text you?”

JJ is certainly a man on a mission, and it’s starting to get annoying.

“What did he say?” JJ walks while loving his eyebrows up and down.

“Why would I tell you?” You ask him, making him bite back his smirk.

“You tell Sarah”

“Wait a minute,” Kiara says getting your attention, “Sarah knows your boyfriend?”

Sarah looks over at you as if she’s scared to say something she shouldn’t, and you sigh.

“Yes” You answer, not really knowing what to say, and everyone except for Sarah looks at you shocked, “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“Not now,” Kie says before sitting next to Sarah, “What does he look like? Is he hot?”

Sarah almost vomits right there. It’s her brother for goodness sake.

“Oh, he’s not hot?” Kie asks with confusion in her tone, “Y/N come on, you always had good taste in men”

You roll your eyes at her and sigh.

“I’m going to get myself a drink since all of you decided to be a pain in my ass today” You say, making Sarah look at you as if she was saying ‘don’t leave me here’.

“I need to get that phone; she probably has pictures of him” JJ jokes with John B and you look back at them with a glare.

“You get even close to my phone, I’ll cut your hand off” You tell him and unfortunately, that’s the confirmation that he needed.

You walk back to the kegger and you notice Topper talking to a girl right next to it. As his eyes land on you, a smile grows on his face.

“Oh well hello there,” He says, making you roll your eyes playfully at him, “How are you, since… Yesterday?”

“I was just fine until I saw your face,” You say, making him dramatically gasp.

“My face is meant to make your day better every single time you look at it” He jokes, “That’s why God gave this beautiful and handsome face. To bless all my fellow brothers and sisters”

You cringe while holding your laughter and look back at him while grabbing a red cup.

“I guess that makes me a child of the devil” You answer, and he can’t help but laugh at you, making you smile as well. “Where’s Rafe?”

“Right behind you” You hear Rafe say from literal centimeters away from your ear.

You smile at him and he grabs a cup as well.

As you three all start to talk, Sarah is being questioned to death by everyone in the friend group. She looks back to check if you’re close enough to rescue her, but she notices you laughing at something Rafe said.

“Guys, can you please just respect her privacy?” Sarah asks, out of pure frustration.

“We can, but I’m just curious on who my best friend is dating,” Kie says, “She never hides anything from me”

“Do you know why she doesn’t tell us who he is?” JJ asks her, ignoring what she just said.

“Yes, JJ. I do. And if you knew who he was, you would understand it” Sarah says, but regrets it right as she says it. She just made everything worse.

“You can’t just tell us that and not anything else,” JJ says, now way more interested.

Sarah leans her head onto John B’s shoulder while sighing and she looks over at you, still talking. Can you please hurry?

“Yes, I can. It’s not my story to tell”

“But why did she tell you and not me?” Kie asks.

“Because-” She stops herself as she was about to say how she was able to catch the two of you in his bedroom, “Because I saw them at a party back in Carolina when I was on vacation with my family”

Kie looks down at the sand and as JJ was about to ask something else, Sarah gets up and starts walking towards you and her brother.

“I’m done with you guys”

(…)

Later into the night, everyone is already slightly tipsy and starting to have new ideas to entertain themselves. One of which is throwing water at each other. And you already know that JJ and John B loved that idea.

They ran to the ocean with their empty red cups and filled them with water before starting to terrorize tourists. And now, you and the girls in the group are their main victims, so you have been running away from JJ for these past 2 whole minutes.

Tourists already joined in the game and many people are already running around with cups filled with water or running away. You laugh at JJ as he tries his best to catch up to you and you are genuinely having fun.

Once you lose JJ in the middle of this commotion, you find Sarah already sitting down but still alert. You run over to her and she smiles at you. Her hair is soaking wet and so are her legs, John B did not play around with her.

“You okay?” You ask and she nods.

You crouch when trying to catch your breath and right there and then is when you feel ice-cold water hit your back. You look back while gasping and JJ is laughing his ass off.

“You did not just do that,” You tell him while laughing as well.

Sarah gives you her cup of water and you thank her. You take your soaked phone out of your back pocket and give it to Sarah.

“Can you check if it still works, please?” You ask her as JJ waits for you to start running after him.

As the phone is on Sarah’s hands, you just start running after JJ, who is in full panic mode.

You curse as JJ gets close to the water and refills his cup, giving you an evil smirk and starting to run after you.

After many cups of water later, you lose JJ and end up finding Rafe, which still is completely dry since most of the kooks and some tourists stepped away right as all this started.

Topper laughs at you as you look down at your wet shirt and touch somewhat of wet hair and you mock his laughter before getting closer to Rafe, who is on his phone.

You, being your tipsy self, walk over to him and grab his hand, making him look at you. You pull him off the bench and away from the party, making sure that no one is looking at the two of you.

As you two are able to hide behind some rocks, you lean closer to Rafe while mumbling.

“I missed you today” You mumble and Rafe chuckles.

“Missed you too. Even though you slept over” He says, and you smile at him.

You stand on your tippy-toes and kiss him, making him move down as you were about to pull away. Your cold hands go over to his cheeks and his warm ones go to your waist, pulling the two of you closer.

As you two start making out, Sarah continues seated on the tree trunk with your phone in your hand, but this time with Kie beside her. Both of them, soaked from head to toe.

JJ sees the girls and starts thinking of a new way to dump more water on them but when his eyes land on your phone, a lightbulb lit up on top of his head.

JJ throws his red cup in the trash and starts getting ready to make a run for it. Sarah was completely distracted, playing with your phone between her fingers. John B gets to his best friend before he starts running and JJ is quick to explain his plan.

In a matter of seconds, JJ runs off and is quick to snatch the phone out of Sarah’s hands, who got upright as he grabbed it and ran off.

“Shit” She curses before starting to run as well, behind JJ, “JJ! Give me back the phone!”

That was enough to catch Pope’s and Kie’s (which saw what happened but didn’t understand) attention and curiosity.

JJ, while running, types in your birthday as your password, and once your lock screen lifts up and your apps show, he lets out a scream of happiness.

Pope and John B are quick to catch up to JJ while Sarah on the other hand, which was already tired from before, is still trying to get to them even when most of the time she keeps losing them because they run between the massive groups of tourists.

JJ stops running and quickly opens your gallery, quickly clicking on your recent pictures. And right after going through pictures of her and Sarah and some screenshots, he finds the gold, pictures of a guy.

His eyes didn’t realize who it was until he opened them, and in the second a picture of a laughing Rafe appears, he’s in shock.

“It can’t be,” Pope says, grabbing the phone out of his hands.

He scrolls further up and sees many pictures of Rafe, some of you two (taken by someone else) and some with Sarah and Kie.

“There’s no pictures of any other guy here” Pope says and Kie stands next to him.

“Guys, what are you doing? This is wrong” Kie says before looking down at the screen.

“It’s Rafe, Kie,” John B says, and she looks at him confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N’s dating Rafe,” JJ says.

“Guys, what the fuck?” Sarah screams as she catches up to them.

Everyone turns to her and everything starts making sense. Why they became such good friends, why y/n’s always at her house, why Sarah almost gagged at the idea of her boyfriend being hot, etc.

“She’s been dating Rafe this whole time?” Kie asks every one, but especially Sarah.

Sarah doesn’t respond and they all get their answer.

“Do you guys finally understand why she didn’t tell you in the first place?” Sarah says with an annoyed tone, not believing that they came to this extreme.

Sarah starts walking away and goes where she saw you going with her brother, silently hoping that you two are dressed. As she turns around the rocks, everyone was following her.

“Y/N,” Sarah says quickly, making you pull your lips away from Rafe.

As everyone stands behind her, Rafe’s hands fall from under your shirt and so does yours from his cheek.

JJ shakes his head in disbelief while John B and Pope had a straight face and Kie… Well, she’s just confused.

“Oh, my fucking god” JJ whispers to his friends.

“What the fuck just ha-” You start, and Sarah looks over at you as if she doesn’t even know what to say.

“They took your phone,” Kie says, “And saw everything”

“Fuck me” You whisper more to yourself but Rafe was able to hear it.

The guys walk away from the rocks to go back to the party, JJ didn’t even want to look at you, right now. How the hell are you going to fix this?

“What happened?” Rafe asks you and you look over at him.

“I’ll explain it to you later,” You say distress over your voice, “Can I sleepover at yours?” You ask him, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, do you want to go back already?” He asks you and you nod. “Let’s go, then”

You grab his hand as your mind continues to move thousands of miles per second. You look at Sarah.

“Are coming too?” You ask her and she nods, walking faster to you.

“Kie?” Sarah asks and Rafe patiently waits for you and the girls.

“Can I come too?” She asks and the two of you nod.

Kie walks over as well and quickly remembers what it’s in her pocket. She takes your phone out and gives it back to you.

You thank her and all of you start walking out of the beach.

(…)

The whole night, while Rafe slept his alcohol away, you and the two girls sat on the living room and talked. Mostly about just had happened, but especially how you’re going to fix this.

Any of you don’t believe that anyone in the group, besides JJ, is pissed at you or Sarah. He’s the one that holds more hate towards Rafe since they had their conflicts. So, that means that the other guys can help you with making JJ listen to you.

Only around 4am, you all walked upstairs to sleep. Kie and Sarah went to sleep in her bedroom while you went to Rafe’s, something that Sarah’s already used to.

And as soon as your head hit the fluffy pillow, you were out like a light.

But now, it’s 10am and you’re trying to make Rafe speed up his morning routine since your plan is already happening.

The girls have sent a text to our group chat to plan to have breakfast at Kie’s parents’ restaurant, and with the help of the guys, JJ accepted. What they don’t know, is who else is going to be there. Rafe Cameron, himself.

“Rafe, can you please hurry up?” You ask while seated at the end of the bed.

“I’m going, I’m going, jeez!” Rafe says playfully, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

You two walk out of the bedroom and walk down the stairs, where you meet Kie and Sarah, which were talking to Rose about pancake batter.

“Let’s go?” You ask, interrupting their conversation.

“Where are you going?” Rose asks you as the girls start walking out with you and Rafe.

“Going to have breakfast” Sarah answers, making Rose nod.

As soon as all of you were out of the door and in the car, a nervous feeling starts growing in your belly, making you start to think about the worst outcomes of all of this.

You look over to your left and Rafe looks like he doesn’t even care. He’s literally sitting beside you, jamming to the music coming from the radio as if this was a normal morning for him.

And the girls too.

Are you overreacting?

Once Rafe parks his car, the girls were quick to jump out of it.

“We’re going to check if the guys are already here” Kie tells you by the window.

You nod at them while taking your seatbelt off and Rafe lets out a sigh when leaning back comfortably on his seat, looking like he doesn’t even care about what’s about to happen.

“You’re tense” Rafe comments with his eyes closed.

“Yeah, not a very relaxing thing what we’re about to do” You say while looking back in the front door of the restaurant.

“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Rafe asks you and you look at him, “One of them throwing a fit?”

You think for a bit.

“Yeah, I guess so,” You tell him, and he chuckles.

“Then don’t worry about it,” He says calmly, and you look back at the door.

Kie and Sarah step out and look at you in the car, signalizing for you two to come out and in the restaurant. You two do as told and walk to it.

“They think we went to the bathroom” Sarah explains to you and you nod.

Kie and Sarah are the firsts to start walking back to the table, where JJ’s back is facing you, and you and Rafe follow them. You notice Pope looking up and his eyes slightly widening at the sight of your boyfriend.

Sarah pulls another chair to the table and you make Rafe take a seat in that same chair, grabbing JJ’s and John B’s attention.

“Let’s talk, shall we?” You ask.

- - - - - -

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey✨🌸

[arhvste]

☼just until i win☼

WRITTEN CHAPTER - WILL CHECK SPELLING ERRORS LATER

an - i’m sorry but things reach their lowest here, grab your knives and get ready to aim at sakai <3

another big big thank you to @totorosleaff once again you’ve been a star and pulled through and helped make my smau so much better i love you wife 💞💖💕💗💘✨

-

oikawa shut his phone off and threw a black t-shirt and some jeans on. luckily he had training at 4pm so he still had time to clear up any miscommunications with sakai and hopefully stop his girlfriend from fretting.

swiping his keycard to his room to lock it on his way out, oikawa swifty made his way to the elevator and slipped out the front entrance. thanks to his choice of lowkey clothing, the setter looked like any other citizen just wandering the streets of tokyo. nobody was paying any mind to him as they went about their own business and let him walk past. he pulled out his phone as he checked the time.

the hotel he was accommodating at with his team wasn't too far from the streets he had agreed to meet sakai at outside the training grounds. he had 5 minutes to get there and he didn't intend on looking stupid and being late so he picked up the pace and walked a little faster to his destination.

-

oikawa arrived 3 minutes later and waited for the girl to arrive. curiosity got the best of him and he ended up pulling out his phone and scrolling through some of the tweets he was mentioned in claiming ridiculous accusations and false stories.

he was so immersed by his phone he didn't noticed the bleached pale blonde approach him.

“hi oikawa! it’s great to finally meet you!”

oikawa put his phone away and nodded at the girl.

“lets go somewhere a little more private.” he said and he pointed towards a more secluded area by a wall that cut the street off slightly.

“i thought the whole reason of us meeting was to stop whatever was going on between us not encourage it ~”

oikawa cringed and turned to glance at the girl who was typing away on her phone paying no mind to his cold stare.

“that's my point, there's nothing, never has been and never will be anything between us. the whole point of us meeting was for you to apologise for all the damage you’ve caused.”

sakai feigned a shocked expression as oikawa turned to face her once they reached the more secluded area.

“damage? oh please it was harmless.”

“harmless? you don't even know what you’ve done do you?”

was this girl for real?

“sorry sorry i just did what i needed to do, since the olympics became the talk of everyone it’s been hard to grab a modelling job. sure i’m well known in the industry but right now agents are looking at pro athletes to model and advertise for them as i suppose it’s a good way to get attention.” sakai explained as she finally put her phone away.

rolling his eyes oikawa stared down at the model.

“that’s not my problem. please stop associating with me you’ve caused a lot of stress and trouble with me and some others.”

“others? oh you mean your little girlfriend? that's partially your fault though, you should've told me you had a girlfriend and maybe things would've been different.”

“i shouldn't have to tell you about my business. i said no the first time you offered your proposition that should've been enough to tell you i wasn't interested in being associated with you.”

oikawa couldn't understand why this girl was being so difficult. the whole reason he’s agreed to meet up with her was for her to apologise in person but he was yet to receive it.

“are you gonna apologise or not? actually don’t bother, it’s not sincere coming from you this is a waste of time.”

sakai sighed and looked up at the athlete.

“no i am sorry i didn't mean any harm. at the same time though, this is your fault for not speaking up about your girlfriend. are you embarrassed by her or something? surely you’ve only been dating a week or something.”

every time this girl opened her mouth, oikawa had to hold back the urge to not uppercut her himself. she was impossible.

“it’s been over a year actually and the happiest year of my life at that. and as for not speaking up about her, i did so in order to protect her from psychos like you.”

“ouch, oikawa you’re meant to be charming no? it seems i’ve been deceived.”

“yeah, just like the media have been by your shitty stirring. look, just give it a rest please, i’ve got enough on my plate in fact i shouldn't even be here now. i was looking forward to coming back, being reunited with old friends and rivals and most importantly my girlfriend. i should be spending as much time as i can with her but no. right now i’m stood here listening to you chat utter shit.”

growing impatient oikawa decided it was probably best to leave it. there was no getting through to sakai she truly was impossible.

“you and your girlfriend are being a little selfish. oikawa listen to me, since we’ve been associated, we’ve been trending more than ever. isn't that great! just hold this up a little longer and then we can stop this but please i’ve been getting all the attention i should've been getting from the start!”

had everything he’d just said gone over her head?

oikawa scoffed and glared down at her through his glasses.

“it seems i have no other option. if you want to act like a simple minded child ill treat you like one. i’ll shut everything down on twitter and just have to publically expose you for what you really are; a liar.”

not bothering to wait for a response, oikawa went to turn to leave the premises and return to his hotel to think about what he was going to say.

not even a split second later a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

oikawa looked ahead of him and saw a stampede of cameras and mics charging their way towards the pair.

not given enough time to process what was going on sakai had him pushed up against the wall he had initially been using to shield himself from the media.

she gripped his shirt and pulled her face close to his before whispering quietly to him.

“yeah? and i’ll have to expose you for what you really are to your girlfriend, a cheat.”

and with that she forced a kiss onto oikawa giving the cameras the show they’d been dying for.

oikawa’s mind went blank and he felt light headed. surely this wasn't happening. he must be going crazy under the stress.

after a few seconds sakai pulled away and winked at the shocked boy as she waved her phone.

so that's why she’d been tapping away on her phone when they met up.

after giving one last sly smile, sakai took her leave with the reporters mindlessly following shouting a million questions at her as the girl bathed in all the new found attention.

oikawa didn't even have the words to call out and object.

he wiped his face and began to process what had just happened.

it couldn't have happened. he was delusional. or so he hoped.

oikawa pulled out his phone and countless notficcations flooded his lock screen as his heart dropped.

he felt sick to his stomach and refused to even try and read them.

unlocking his phone he immediately made his way to his favourite contact list praying that the person he trusted the most would answer.

the phone didn't even need to ring longer than 2 seconds before the line was picked up.

“oikawa, don't speak just listen. i’ve seen it already okay? don't move i’m coming to get you i’ve got you okay just stay calm.”

letting out a small sob, oikawa dropped to his knees as his thoughts began to overwhelm him.

“haijime, what the fuck have i done?”

-

just until i win

oikawa tooru x reader

masterlist

part 18 - stirring

part 19 - sakai

part 20 - iwa to the rescue

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