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alihightowers · 2 years ago

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Disclaimer: I've only seen the show and have just started the book, so please don't come for me if this reads ooc. This was just a fun (angst-ish) idea that came to me and I felt like writing it out, so yeah. :)

God, Rest My Soul

How many times can one be torn apart before they cease to exist altogether?

Alicent was 15 when she first started to feel it.

Loss.

Honest and brutal, it would linger by her side as a shadow, a starving parasite begging to be fed.

It began with the theft of her girlhood, stripped and stolen from beneath her before she could find a stable grounding.

And it was harsh, getting thrown off balance so abruptly. She attempted to reach out for something to hold on to, anything to save her from falling.

All she could catch was air.

Alicent had never belonged to herself. She was always someone else’s.

A pawn. A wife. A mother.

Just a pretty mosaic of fragmented glass, soldered together and molded to be what the people around her desired her to be.

Forever sentenced to follow the strict line between duty and sacrifice, and driven by a strong sense of faith, she was impressed upon performing only what was expected of her. And she was taught to do so without resistance.

Chipped away piece by piece, she was always one step away from being emptied completely, existing as no more than the shell of a girl who once made secret wishes on blue skies and worn book pages, on cake and the Narrow Sea’s great wonders.

She could only cling to her fragile innocence for so long before her fingers went numb and her will began to crumble into dust.

When the war came to its gruesome end, that emptiness finally claimed her. It took time to peel away at her insides, shredding the remnants of her heart to ribbons until there was nothing left but a hollow void.

Bound to the burden of her losses, Alicent never got the chance to know what it felt like to be whole.

xxx

Alicent wakes as she does most nights, drenched in sweat with a strangled cry in her throat. Her long, auburn tresses stick to the back of her neck, her nightgown tangled around her legs. The sheets fit tight around her waist, binding her in cotton chains. She can’t move.

Then the nightmare spills into reality. They always spill with a taunting, slow drip.

Her mind plays cruel tricks on her in the dark. The walls stretch and yawn open, expanding beyond the ceiling. She shrinks as they rise and wonders if this will be the time such nothingness will swallow her whole.

Sometimes she wishes it would.

Alicent’s hands curl into fists around her pillows and she shudders when she hears it. Dragons. The roar comes with the thunder of a thousand storms, growing louder and louder until it booms right outside her open windows, close enough to shake her bed. A wing scrapes like steel blades against the front facing wall of her chamber and the room fills with the sinister orange glow of dragon fire.

And as the beast passes, she begins to hear the screams.

Muffled at first and then rising to an unbearable, piercing cacophony of guttural agony. The smallfolk, civilians who asked for none of it, but suffered from it all the same, trampling over each other in the narrow streets in a futile attempt to seek shelter.

A true queen always counts the cost to her people.

And she can do nothing but sit at the top of it all, her throne a burning pyre of broken promises and blood-soaked bone.

A wave of nausea ripples through her when she finally opens her eyes to search the darkness in a panic, lip trembling and cheeks already flushed with tears.

Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.

She repeats the words under her breath until the terror finally relents and her pulse stops hammering in her ears.

A habit never cured, Alicent raises her thumb to her mouth to pick the already raw skin between her teeth. Scar tissue has grown over the wounds around her cuticles over the years, but she somehow always finds a way to break through. Maybe it’s a weakness, or maybe a twisted determination. Either way, It’s the only thing that calms her. If she bleeds, she’s less heavy.

She only stops once the taste of copper melts onto her tongue.

Alicent swallows, wiping her fingers on the white sheet. The moment she manages to sit up, a cough rattles in her chest almost hard enough to double her over.

With a desperate gasp for air, she presses the heels of her hands over her eyelids to ease the sudden dizziness, forcing her chest to rise and fall with deep, uneven breaths.

The air shifts around her then, a gentle disturbance that makes her pause.

“Mother.” The whisper is so faint in her ear she almost misses it, but it’s the cadence of the voice that catches her. It’s one she hasn’t heard in years but knows so deeply to the very core of her being.

A weight settles on her right shoulder and a small part of her chest stops aching. Phantom fingers gently press into her skin, and she so desperately wants to reach up and touch him. To pull herself up and hug him, hold him to her just as she had the moment after he was born.

“My darling boy.” She speaks, voice thick with sleep and tight with emotion.

Fingertips press more firmly into her shoulder when she tries to move. She stills with a sigh, her own hand twitching with the need to reach out.

“I wish to see you.”

“Not yet.”

Her brow furrows, confused. It makes no sense.

A question lingers on Alicent’s lips, but before she can ask it, her son leans closer and brushes a soft kiss to her temple. The way the corner of his mouth lifts at the edge with a small smile fills her eyes with fresh tears that stick to her eyelashes.

“Your Grace?”

Alicent startles at the sound of her septa, body jolting in response to the new voice.

Ignoring the woman, she raises her hand to her cold shoulder and turns to the side. Her head spins, her eyes blur. The space beside her bed is empty, but through the dizzy spell, she watches the facets of a sapphire sparkle in the blackened sky until it blends in with the full moon.

The familiar, dull ache pierces her womb then, needling deeper until it joins the three other wounds carved there.

Do not mourn me, mother.

“Your Grace.” Her septa tries again, her concern for Alicent evident. Her tone never changes; she’s always concerned.

Alicent no longer cares much, nor has the energy to argue her detest for pity, for being made to feel weak. The only thing that matters, the only thing she cares for, the only thing she wants, are her children.

They are her reason and her salvation. Her greatest triumphs and her biggest failures.

She loves them and they haunt her.

“Hmm?” She finally manages to answer, watching as the woman approaches her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“The guards heard you scream, are you alright?”

Alicent nods, but her bottom lip starts trembling again and her face crumples, giving way to her unrelenting sorrow.

“Oh, my dear.” Her septa says, taking care in pushing her thick hair back and away from her shoulders before bringing weathered fingers up to gingerly wipe beneath Alicent’s eyes.

The gentle touch stings. Her tender skin is chapped from the salt of her tears, permanent rivers having been burned across the apples of her cheeks over time.

“I’m so tired.” She confesses with a whimper, dropping her cheek to rest against the woman’s palm.

“Then you must rest, your grace.”

She feels the back of her septa’s soft, wrinkled hand touch her forehead.

“But all I ever do is rest...”

The heavy sigh she releases brings forth another series of coughs violent enough to ricochet off her spine.

“You’re burning, let me fetch you something to ease the fever.”

Her septa cradles one of Alicent’s hands between both of hers and squeezes them softly with a nod.

Before she gets to the door, Alicent looks to her, eyes wide and rounded with hope.

“Do you think they are safe?”

My sons. My daughter.

“Let us pray for it with the rise of the sun.”

Every day she asks the same question, and every day they pray together, but never for herself. Instead, she speaks out for her children, recites their names like sacred hymns that only she can understand.

A mother should never outlive her children.

xxx

The hours pass by slowly, and Alicent finds her exhaustion growing alongside them as the fever worsens.

She can only stand up long enough to allow her bed to be remade with clean linens. Her pillows are fluffed, an extra quilt is lying over the comforter. Her maid combs through her mussed hair, untangling the curls until they fall in uniform down her back. The girl washes the sweat from her clammy skin and dresses her in a fresh nightgown.

With the last of her strength siphoned from the simple task, it’s the last time she rises from her bed.

The sky is overcast in the afternoon. Grey and murky, she briefly wonders if it will finally rain, if the sky will collect her tears and cry them for her after she’s gone.

In the silence once she is left alone to rest, she can hear the distinct slosh of waves crashing against stone if she listens hard enough. The constant and methodic turbulence lulls her in and out of sleep, hushes her when she struggles between bouts of lucidity.

And then there’s the distinct smell of damp earth, maple leaves, and lemon.

The subtle notes filter through her senses, easing her to a soft wakefulness. Her sight focuses on the cloth on her bedside table in the dim light when she blinks her eyes open. Stretched taught over an embroidery hoop, Alicent studies the half-finished image of a spider she tried to weave from a fading memory. She remembers seeing it from time to time, delicate and intricately stitched by Helaena. There were other insects too. Beetles and dragonflies and moths. But her daughter always seemed to favor the arachnids most.

The body of her own rendition is uneven. Seven out of eight legs are disproportioned, protruding out at odd angles. A needle still sticks upright in the middle of the head where she gave up, the single black thread unraveled to the floor, spool likely lost under her bed having been forgotten some time ago.

My dearest love.

“I never could get it right.” She mumbles to the empty room, reaching out to trace one of the skewed legs.

The quiet lingers until an answer echoes off the walls.

“But you did try your best.”

The soft melody carried on Helaena’s words fills Alicent's chest with warmth. Her lips crack with a smile, the muscles weakened from lack of use. The corners of her mouth ache until she can no longer keep them upturned.

“Did I?” Her voice breaks her question in half. She should have tried harder.

A reply never comes, and a spark of panic unfurls within her veins.

“Why can I not see you?”

Alicent waits in the deafening silence, begging for something to let her know she’s not alone.

“To see you must close both eyes.” Helaena whispers, and then as quickly as she came, she’s gone.

xxx

Alicent begins shivering after that. Goosebumps cover her skin and she’s cold, but her body runs too hot in protest. She pushes her blankets down to her knees one moment, only to pull them back up around her neck the next. In a viscous cycle, she’s agitated with restlessness, but she barely has the energy to move.

Well into the night, her breath shortens, lungs unable to expand the way they used to just hours prior.

Her eyes roll unseeing up to the canopy over her bed, following the patterns in the fabric to try and focus on anything other than the ache that has since spread throughout each of her limbs.

Her septa reads passages from the bible to her, the old, warped pages crinkling from years of use. Alicent knows the words by heart, has recited them more times than she can count, but she lets them soothe her instead of joining in. It’s enough to still her mind and focus on her own silent prayer.

Alicent can feel herself slipping. Her eyes are heavy, she just wants to sleep, but she’s waiting.

She’s been waiting ever since the sickness took her, since she knew death would come swiftly.

When she finally feels a warm hand cover her own, she turns hers over quickly to grasp at the wrist, clinging.

It’s the hand she knows best by heart. Much larger than hers now that he’s a man grown, Alicent digs her fingertips into the back of it, mad with a hope that if she squeezes hard enough, she could somehow shrink it back into the soft, chubby hand still shielded from the world. One she had held so carefully while she helped him take his first steps.

Maybe if they had all been smaller, she could have protected them better.

Glossy-eyed, Alicent directs her attention away from the canopy to the face of her son.

“Aegon.” She sighs, and it’s instant, the way the tension drains from her frail body. Tears leak freely from the corners of her eyes and into her ears.

Neither smile, they simply stare at each other, mirrored as they’ve always been. Same eyes, same nose, same mouth. Her first and her last.

“Do you love me?”

You imbecile.

His voice is raw with emotion. Alicent swallows against the dryness of her throat, following the peaks and valleys of his scarred, burnt skin with her fingers.

“You were one thing I never wanted,” she begins and reaches up with her free hand to sweep the fallen hair from his eyes, “and yet when I looked into your eyes for the first time, I found that I wanted for nothing else, because it was then that I knew what love felt like.”

Alicent watches as he hangs his head for a breath with something akin to resolve, then leans forward to place a feather-light kiss on her forehead.

“I free you from your sins.”

I forgive you.

Aegon’s voice is a ghost just behind her septa’s as the woman blesses her. There is nothing left to fight against.

Her eyes flutter closed; peace replaces her pain.

The sweet voices of babes call to her from the other side of the door to her chamber.

It’s the only thing she hears when she takes her last breath.

xxx

Alicent is 45 when she no longer feels it.

Loss.

Weightless and free, she finds there is nothing chasing after her, no beast to feed.

It ends with the release of her chains, stripped and reclaimed, but this time she is balanced, and the ground beneath her is solid.

Somewhere, in some wrinkle finely carved between space and time, Alicent is waking without the nightmares and stepping into a room filled with the warmth of an afternoon sun. The gentle breeze of summer sweeps through sheer curtains, carrying the faint perfume of the sea on its coattails.

And her babies are there. Her greatest loves. The very center of her soul borne from her body sat before her eyes, unharmed and perfect. Their silver hair catches in the light like wildfire, and the twinkle of innocent laughter brings her to her knees.

I want to see my sons again, and Helaena, my sweet girl.

They reach out for her, and her arms fall open.

She catches them, and she holds on.

And as they settle into her embrace, she knows exactly what it feels like to be whole.

Maybe it’s Heaven, or something far greater than what the New Gods could have predicted.

But perhaps it’s just a simple gift, a wish of a mother’s heart.

#alicent hightower #how do I even tag this? idk #if this is full cringe pretend you didn't read it LOL #sometimes I write things

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years ago

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The Limitless Podcast Transcript [S2E9]

TW: None. Notes: Finally picked this up again! Word Count: 1.9K

[Previous] | [Next] [Other Groups Masterlist] | [Without a Trace Masterlist]

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Release Date: August X, 2021 Episode Title: The Charlatan Run Time: 20:32 Minutes

Intro Song: Fake Luv - thankgoditswknd

Johnny: Hello, hello, everyone! Good evening and welcome to the ninth episode of the Limitless Podcast! We're your hosts Johnny Suh and Mark Lee, and boy do we have an episode for you all tonight.

Mark: Yup, that's right! As highly requested by our Patreons, we're doing an episode on the Charlatan, aka the serial killer who has been terrorizing multiple cities now.

Johnny: But before we delve into that, we have an announcement to make. We will be holding off on the podcast's transcripts for now, none of us have been able to reach Crys since the last episode, so we're going to have to put them on hold.

Mark: Don't worry, though! This isn't the first time Crys has kind of disappeared off the face of the earth, I'm pretty sure she'll text one of us soon with some outrageous story about what happened to her.

Johnny: And, also, as you can see, no special guest today, sadly.

Mark: Yeah, we're back to the old format for now, but we'll see who we can reel in next episode!

Johnny: Yup, so that's all for that for now, let's move onto the news! Mark, take it away!

Mark: Yes... so as everyone expected, the Vigilante Ban has been the hot topic for the last couple of days. It was recently put into question with the fight for better insurance policies and healthcare for victims of sudden mutations as well as for the appearance of the "A" team a few days ago at the bank. Speaking of that team up, they've been quiet since their debut, and many people are anxiously awaiting their next move after their bold stand up against the Charlatan. There has been no word from lawmakers or law enforcement about their appearance. And that's all for news!

Johnny: Onto our main topic, now. The Charlatan! Who are they? What are they? Why are they? Etc. We had you all send us your pressing questions or interesting theories on Twitter and Shotaro went through them and picked the ones that came up the most. But, before we do that, I'll have Mark give you all a brief introduction.

Mark: Yes, sir, the Charlatan, as we all know, is officially listed as a "serial killer" according to the police. All of their victims are specified in a "list" that they publish at random times but always after the previous list concludes. The victims on the list seemingly have no correlation to each other, but this is currently being investigated. The Charlatan's modus operandi evolved from murdering people themselves into a more organized crime ring and, as a result, we are even seeing their influence in other countries.

Johnny: Fucking wild.

Mark: Yeah, and since the first list was published, what, a year ago? I want to say it was in July of last year, and since then the Charlatan worked slowly but efficiently. If your name was on the list, then it was like a guaranteed death sentence. And this was true up until their penultimate list, we know for a fact that actor Han Jisung is still alive and well.

Johnny: Yeah, and all the way in Canada, hoo.

Mark: He really went as far as he could to avoid this, and I can't even be mad because, not gonna lie, same. If I had some known serial killer coming after me and I had that kind of money I'd run and hide too. But, I'm so sure about this, the Charlatan would have found a way to get to him if that group didn't push him into creating a new list. The Charlatan's fail rate is eerily low.

Johnny: Huh... with that much information someone would think you're the Charlatan, Mark.

Mark: Uhhh... I'll take that as a compliment? To be honest I just spent four hours on Twitter and went through the second page of Google.

Johnny: Whoa, talk about thorough there, bud.

Mark: Yeah, yeah, but we've barely touched the tip of the iceberg. To date, there have been up to eighty "Charlatan" cases, but really there have only been a confirmed twenty. Meaning, the actual Charlatan was only responsible for twenty while the remaining sixty were copycat cases. If you reference the Charlatan's list, we really only have evidence for twenty of them.

Johnny: Damn... so the Charlatan has followers then?

Mark: Sure, if you want to call them that. I was scrolling through their blog posts and they just seem like bandwagoners, know what I mean?

Johnny: Yeah, it's a little tasteless, I think. Calling yourself a Charlatan supporter after all the crap that's happened because of them, like, it's so disrespectful to the victims.

Mark: That's what I'm saying! But the fact that the Charlatan has such a cult following is interesting already, you know? When was the last time we saw something like this?

Johnny: Hm... probably the Loveholic cases.

Mark: Oh shit that guy.

Johnny: Yeah, that guy. That shit was crazy.

Mark: Quick aside to those who don't know, before the vigilante ban our last episode of season one was supposed to be about Loveholic, is he a villain or a vigilante? But, ya know, events happened and the episode never aired.

Johnny: We lost the script too, not gonna lie I was really sad about that.

Mark: Me too, but it's not like we had much on that guy anyway. Kinda sketch though, I wonder if his profile had changed over the years.

Johnny: Hold on, let me do a quick Google search and...

Transcriber's Note: Hey, guys! Crys here, this next part of the podcast ended up not being recorded for some reason? The mic went out and those two just didn't realize it. So I'm just going to pick up whenever the audio continues.

Mark: Uh... hello, hello?

Johnny: Dude, I can't believe that we didn't notice our mics turned off.

Mark: I know! Shotaro, how's chat looking?

Shotaro: Chat's saying that they can hear you loud and clear. But they didn't catch any of what you said last.

Mark: Damn.

Johnny: Damn.

Mark: It wasn't really relevant anyway, so I guess we can just move on and get back on topic. Seems like the Charlatan is really having a tough time with these vigilantes, huh?

Johnny: Honestly, they even changed their list for those vigilantes, that hasn't happened before and as far as we know all nine are still relatively active despite it.

Mark: Active and working together but, I have to play devil's advocate here, what's taking them so long? Nine against one? Not to be that person but I think with their members they should be able to pinpoint the Charlatan quickly, I mean, they have Cypher!

Johnny: That's what I was thinking! But they also have Mastermind, you know how particular he is with his plans, and even Timekeeper can be argued to be a careful risk taker too, you know.

Mark: I guess, and with the whole list change it's not like many others are at risk right now, but... it's still scary, you know?

Johnny: Of course. Who knows who's going to be on that hitlist next.

Mark: Exactly. But now I'm wondering what the Charlatan's motive could possibly be, you know? Murders and kidnappings, but why?

Johnny: Yeah, there really are no correlations with many of the people on the lists, let alone on the same list. I hope once he gets caught he explains his whole plan.

Mark: Like in the movies?

Johnny: Exactly like in the movies. The Charlatan just has this intriguing aura that I'm so curious of, and no doubt that's why those nine got together too, maybe.

Mark: I can see it, the Charlatan's always one step ahead somehow, like they have eyes everywhere, and their henchmen seem to be doubling and tripling, it's hard to tell who's affiliated with the Charlatan and who's faking.

Johnny: There's something really interesting about those henchmen, though! Have you noticed that they are using certain weapons?

Mark: From previous vigilantes, I know! Just the other day one of those henchmen were spotted holding onto Agust's pistols, isn't that insane? Where the hell did they get those? I'm pretty sure the police rounded up nearly all of them.

Johnny: Well, that's what they want us to think.

Mark: Of course, it is.

Johnny: It's just... interesting. And then there's why they use them too.

Mark: I mean... if you want to go into it... I have a theory.

Johnny: Ooh, do share.

Mark: Well, the definition of 'Charlatan' to begin with is "a person falsely claiming to have a special knowledge or skill, or a fraud." And if the Charlatan's henchmen are using ex-vigilante weapons, maybe they're trying to mimic them? But with that said, whoever the real Charlatan is might be someone well know hiding in plain sight. Likewise, they could be someone entirely random just throwing us for a loop, you know? It kind of fits when we put it up with how the Charlatan seems to be one step ahead.

Johnny: Wait that's actually really good, Mark!

Mark: Then part of me wanted to take it to a larger stretch and say maybe the people on their lists are also somewhat of "charlatans" but, for the most part, the victims seem very normal, nothing stands out about them.

Johnny: I wonder how much more this case will unfold.

Mark: Me too, it really is a twisting case. The police are having so much difficulty figuring anything out about them, the broadcasts are just encrypted so well that the Charlatan's impossible to track down and the use of henchmen makes it even harder.

Johnny: Let alone their weapons, those belonged to vigilantes, and it's not like many of the police force are trained to take direct hits from those.

Mark: Yeah, the whole thing is just a mess.

Johnny: You think this is what they wanted?

Mark: Oh, yeah, definitely. Chaos of some kind, or at least instilling that fear into everyone.

Johnny: Shit... keep our doors locked, right?

Mark: Yeah. I think we went over a good majority of it all, the casefile is shockingly short.

Johnny: For it being a year old, the Charlatan covers their tracks well.

Mark: Uh huh, there's not much we can do about lack of information. There's only eyewitness reports of their henchmen, but nothing on the person themselves.

Johnny: Like I said, lock your doors.

Mark: And on that note, we can probably end this episode early. Thanks for listening, you guys, and as usual we’ll be active on Twitter to answer your questions on CuriousCat and, also as usual, we’ll be answering the first 100 questions that come in. We’ll leave a poll pinned for what vigilante you want us to talk about next and maybe we’ll even throw in something extra. If you check out Patreon right now you’ll see a nifty poll for a secret thing that I think you’ll all enjoy. Oh, and buy us a Kofi! Link’s in our bio on Twitter.

Johnny: Oh and thanks to Crys, as always, for transcribing! She works hard so we don't have to! Make sure to follow her on @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l and buy her a Kofi so she can keep transcribing more of your favorite podcasts.

Mark: And, seriously, stay safe, everyone.

Johnny: We'll see you in the next one!

Outro Song: the simmer down - deep priority

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic

Without a Trace: @naiify @sunsethw4 @leesalts

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

#without a trace #limitless podcast #my writings

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jaskierx · 3 months ago

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A cleanse that isn't pirate related: Fave Dragon Age ship(s) for any or all games?

Mine's Amell/Alistair, purple friendmanced MHawke/Anders, and Trevelyan/Dorian with a very fond spot for blue rivalmanced FHawke/Isabela, and this complex love/hate thing with Solasmance. I haven't decided who'll be first in Veilguard yet, but I'm leaning toward Harding 'cause I've always thought she was just so cute. 😁

excellent question!! (sorry i accidentally wrote a Thesis)

my first ever playthrough was mahariel/alistair with alistair dying at the end and i was BEREFT at the time but i love the angst so much like god. the hero of ferelden suffered more than jesus. she ended the blight. she demanded sovereignty for the dalish in return. her keeper is proud of her. she got everything she ever wanted and it doesn’t matter at all bc alistair is dead and she blames herself and she wants to lie down in the grass and cry and sleep for a billion years but now she feels like she has a duty to rebuild the order but the only guy who knew anything about how to do that is dead and she misses him and Fuck i’m gonna be sick

my favourite da2 romance is red hawke/anders where hawke is a mage and is a very tired boy and just becomes increasingly more disillusioned with everything in the fucking world due to how badly his life is going and at the end he doesn’t even approve of anders doing a bit of terrorism but he runs away with him anyway bc he’s like ‘fuck it i’m not going to deny myself the only person left that i feel anything for when everyone i loved has been killed or turned against me’. but Disclaimer i’ve never done a fenris romance playthrough and idk why bc he would probably sway me

none of the romances i played in inquisition really Got Me the way the other games’ have? i haven’t tried dorian’s bc i’ve never played a male inquisitor. however my most recent playthrough was lavellan/solas and the bit where she gets to say ‘no, you’re not killing solas. I’M killing solas’ was incredibly cathartic and i hope she gets to get his ass in veilguard 🙏 this is absolutely not a hawke/anders ‘let’s make each other worse’ scenario. she wants that egg Obliterated

anyway in veilguard i am making a beeline for taash bc HAVE YOU SEEN HER i want to know everything about her i want to braid her hair while she tells me how she lost her horn and how she killed the world’s scariest dragon and how she’s sooo strong and beautiful i love women x

#this was fun thanks anon #asks #anon #dragon age

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ttuesday · 2 years ago

Text

Loser

Summary: You were never too sure what to make of Eddie Munson but when he finds you crying under the bleachers, the turmoil of not fitting into your new school becoming too much for you, you discover a different side of Eddie.

Word Count: 3.1k

Disclaimer: Reader identifies as female and goes by she/her pronouns! also I tried to make some D and D references but idk if it makes sense lol

Hugging your knees, you shut your eyes tight and remind yourself that the school day is nearly over. You only have to get through the rest of lunch and then a few afternoon classes until you can finally go home and relax.

Sitting under the bleachers for lunch has become a normality to you, avoiding the terrors of the cafeteria and instead spending your time alone.

Although you always found it hard to make friends, you convinced yourself that in a new school, it’d be easier and that people would be more welcoming. But moving to a new town halfway through the school year didn’t help and none of the students seemed interested in getting to know the new girl.

You tried your best when you first arrived in Hawkins, pushing yourself to be more outgoing than normal and striking up conversation with whoever was sitting beside you in class but no one was interested in being your friend. You weren’t the first new person to grace Hawkins High and you certainly wouldn’t be the last, so no one made a fuss that you were here now.

Lunch was the worst part of the school day. At least during class you can focus on the lesson and forget about how socially isolated you’ve become but during lunch that was unavoidable. Everyone had their own spot in the cafeteria, tables they claimed at the start of the school year.

Each time you tried to sit down, you got the same response, students swiftly placing their bags on the seat before you could sit or people scoffing and saying that they were saving the seat for someone else. A couple of times, people were straightforward and told you to go away or that they didn’t want you sitting with them.

You didn’t want to be sitting under the bleachers for lunch, listening to the distant chatter of students as they quickly finish their food before the bell rings but where else were you supposed to go?

Usually you can push through the day and try to ignore how hard things have been here for you but today is more draining. As soon as you sit down on the ground, tears begin to stream down your face.

Moving was supposed to be a new start but instead it feels like a nightmare you can’t wake up from. You try to wipe the tears away and keep your composure but you can’t hold them back anymore. After a measly attempt of trying to keep it together, you sigh and allow the tears to flow freely.

Your breathing hitches involuntarily as your lip trembles, your thoughts turning dark as you remind yourself of how difficult life has been here for you.

You don’t hear the approaching footsteps nor does the person hear your quiet cries, ducking under the bleachers and not seeing you until it’s too late.

"Jesus! I didn't know anyone was back here" Eddie exclaims. For a moment his eyes go wide as he realises you're crying, quickly averting his gaze to the ground. Usually Eddie would say more but your tears catch him off guard.

He’s seen you around before, noticing you in the corridors or on the rare occasion you’d both arrive to school around the same time. You were pretty but there was something else about you.

Unfortunately, Eddie never got the chance to talk to you before now. Whenever he would see you in the hallways, it was brief and by the time he would think of something to say, you were gone.

You were the newbie from some far off city, brought to the cursed town of Hawkins where dreams die and the most exciting thing to happen is either a pep rally or a funeral.

When Eddie first heard about you, he didn’t give you much thought. New girl from the city? Yeah, he assumed you’d get along with the preppy kids who normally gush over big cities and the thoughts of getting out of Hawkins. But whenever he saw you around, you were alone.

In a weird way, Eddie found it fascinating that you didn’t fall into any cliques. On paper, you appeared to be the perfect person to fit in with a multitude of cliques and yet you kept to yourself.

You were nothing like what he expected you to be, which was basically any stereotypical mean girl who thinks she’s better than everyone. If anything, you were the complete opposite and that fascinated Eddie even more.

Never in a million years did Eddie think he’d find you crying under the bleachers. As you try to hurriedly dry your tears, Eddie stays where he is as if he’s stuck in place.

Although you wipe your eyes off your sleeve, new tears appear almost instantaneously. He isn’t sure what to do, debating whether leaving is the right option or if he should try to console you.

Clearing his throat, Eddie scuffs his foot off the ground, awkwardly swaying closer to you as he asks “Do you need a tissue or something?”.

This isn’t how you imagined your first interaction with Eddie Munson. You’ve seen him around, your eye often wandering over to him on the rare occasion you enter the cafeteria, though you never stay long enough to get a proper impression of what he’s like.

All the information you’ve heard about Eddie is from rumours, whispers in the corridors that have clung to him over time. He hung around the outcasts and some of the nerds, known well for his affiliation with the Hellfire Club.

You didn’t know much about the Hellfire Club, only hearing from other students that it’s based on some board game sorta thing. After being in Hawkins for a while, you actually thought about joining it in an attempt of making new friends but from the talk you’ve heard in the corridors, the Hellfire Club and specifically Eddie, didn’t usually take in new members with open arms and would make them prove their knowledge of the game… something you lacked immensely. And so to save yourself from embarrassment, you didn’t bother trying to join the club and once again, stayed by yourself.

You keep your head down in a pathetic attempt to hide your tears. Trying to keep your voice as steady as you can, you answer his question with a question of your own “Do you have a tissue?”. If you were going to be honest, Eddie didn’t seem like the kinda guy who’d carry around a packet of tissues with him.

Quickly snapping into action, Eddie drops his backpack next to you, stooping down to your level as he rifles through it. His sudden movement makes you tense though you soon relax when he pulls out a ripped piece of tissue paper for you to use. “Here… for your uh, yeah” he hands you the tissue, making sure to give you some space as he stays crouched down beside you.

It’s clear this piece of tissue has seen better days, ripped in half and barely the size of your palm. If you had to guess, you’d presume the tissue has been shoved down the bottom of his backpack for the past 6 months, collecting dust and who knows what else.

Seeing your hesitation, Eddie blurts out “Actually wait!”. Plucking the tissue out of your hand, he drops it back into his backpack “I’m not sure how long that’s been in there… look, here just use this instead”. After a moment of rummaging through the various crumpled up papers and notebooks covered in doodles crammed into his backpack, Eddie takes out a black and red bandana and hands it to you.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice raspy “I don’t want to ruin it”.

“You won’t ruin it,” he assures, dismissing that idea entirely “if anything, you’ll be adding character to it”. Even at a time when you feel your lowest, Eddie manages to make you smile.

He notices your smile too, a small sense of pride igniting in his chest. It’s been a while since he’s made someone smile. Sure, Eddie technically makes the likes of Dustin and the others smile during their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns but it isn’t him directly that’s making them smile, it’s the game.

He waits a few minutes before speaking again, giving you the time to properly wipe your tears away with his bandana. Eddie tries to keep his voice gentle when he speaks, hoping that’ll put you at ease.

“So you wanna talk about why you’re hiding under here?”.

You open your mouth to speak but words fail you. Trying to compose yourself, you take a shaky breath before answering “I don’t know how to put it into words without sounding like a complete loser”.

Eddie involuntarily smirks to himself and shrugs “Lucky for you, I know a thing or two about being a loser”.

For the first time since Eddie’s arrived, you look up at him, his eyes surprisingly soft as he meets your gaze. You could never tell what Eddie would be like to talk to and although you could tell he wasn’t as brash as the rumours claimed he was, you didn’t expect him to be so compassionate either.

“You’re not a loser though,” your voice comes out quieter than you expected but you know Eddie heard you as he attentively listens to every word you say “you have friends, people who’ll be there for you when things get rough and hell, as stupid as it sounds, you have a place in a cafeteria and you don’t have to worry about people telling you they don’t want you sitting near them or pretending the seat is being saved for someone else”.

Looking away from you, Eddie nods his head “Wow…”.

Out of all the reactions Eddie could have had, this one surprises you. “Wow?” you repeat, creasing your brow “Wow what?”.

He tilts his head “Wow as in I’m amazed, I haven’t heard someone get something that wrong in a long time”. Eddie stretches out some of his words, putting extra emphasis on the ‘long’ part. Springing up onto his feet, he starts to pace in front of you as he airs out his thoughts.

“First off, I know a lot of people but that doesn’t mean I have a lot of friends, there’s a pretty big difference between that,” he clarifies “and you’re making a lot of assumptions here, I mean just because I have a few friends doesn’t mean they’re willing to come running to my rescue if I ever need them. Actually, it’s the opposite, you have no idea how many times they’ve left me to deal with a literal army of goblins when I wasn’t the dungeon master, I mean I know it’s something you’d presume would only happen once but nope! You’d be surprised how common that was”. Eddie throws his hands up in the air, about to continue his rant about D and D but he stops himself.

He clears his throat, suddenly feeling awkward again “Sorry, I uh… didn’t mean to start rambling about my goblin woes… but anyways, it doesn't matter how many people you have in your life or whether you get the privilege of sitting in the mouldy cafeteria that stinks of athletes, what matters is… well, ok I don’t know what exactly matters in this bizarre thing called life but it sure as shit isn’t any of that”.

It’s hard to tell if Eddie’s speech has really helped how you’re feeling but in the moment, it seems impossible to feel down in his presence. His passion oozes through his words, the way he mindlessly falls into ranting about past D and D games somehow making you feel at ease.

Even when talking about how the jocks often stink up the cafeteria after practice, Eddie makes you giggle effortlessly and without realising it, your worries melt away.

This is a man known for his weirdness, often wound up like a clock with the ability to start monologuing about nearly anything. And yet that isn’t the person in front of you. Sure, you see some of those traits but he’s much kinder than what you’ve heard about him.

Eddie feels your eyes watching him, turning to look at you again. “Not what you thought, huh?” he asks, dragging a few strands of his hair over his face to cover his smile. Breaking his eye contact, you gulp, trying to find the words to apologise and hope you didn’t offend him.

“Don’t worry, it happens,” he says before sighing dramatically, pretending to be sorrowful “I’m used to being a disappointment, I’m not the fully fledged demonic sadist the people of this godforsaken town take me for, nor am I a monster that steals candy from kids… well, I did once but I don’t think that counts”.

A smile tugs at your lips as you laugh, watching on as Eddie defends himself “I mean c’mon, it was a baby, he didn’t have any teeth so how the hell was he supposed to eat a chocolate bar? I was doing him a favour, it was probably a choking hazard!”.

You appreciate Eddie’s strange but funny sense of humour. “I’m joking, I’m joking, I didn’t actually steal candy from a baby” he clarifies before smiling mischievously “…or did I?”.

The more you laugh, the more confident Eddie feels, serotonin coursing through his body. To him, your laugh is like music to his ears.

You open your mouth to speak but the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch and the start of your afternoon classes. A sigh falls from your mouth and Eddie nods, knowing this means his time with you is over.

“I guess that’s my sign to bid you farewell,” he says, trying not to look too disappointed “I’ll leave you to gather yourself in peace, besides I was supposed to make a quick business deal during lunch and I don’t think they’ll appreciate me making them wait this long”.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had people waiting for you, sor-” before you can continue, Eddie puts up his hand to stop you. “Don’t bother apologising,” he protests “I had a much better time with you than I would have with them so if anything, I should be thanking you”.

Wandering a few steps closer to the bleachers, he rests his arm on one of the metal beams, looking through the gaps and out at the woods just past the school’s property. You shove your water bottle and some notebooks into your bag, getting ready for your next class.

“Actually, there is somewhere else you could go whenever you need some time to yourself” Eddie glances over his shoulder at you and gestures for you to come closer. Getting up off the ground, you sling your backpack over your shoulder and approach him.

There’s a scent to Eddie though you can’t figure out what it is. It’s not what the other guys at school usually smell like, which is either drenched in cheap cologne or as if they haven’t showered in 6 months. It’s hard to pinpoint what it is, maybe a mix of multiple scents or maybe it’s his own distinct smell. There’s only one thing you are confident in and that’s how appealing the smell is, though you try not to concentrate on it too much, not wanting him to notice.

You peak through the gap, following Eddie’s finger as he points over towards the dark treeline. “You see over there? That opening?” he asks, gesturing to the gap in the trees “If you go through there and walk for a few minutes, there’s a clearing. It’s kinda nice, not as spooky as you’d think it is and there’s a picnic table so you won’t be sitting on the ground”.

Normally you wouldn’t take the advice of someone you barely know telling you about a supposed quiet area in a dark woods but for some reason, you trust Eddie. “Thanks, I’ll check it out sometime” you nod.

Glancing down at you, Eddie takes the opportunity to quickly study your face while you stare out at the woods. You have a pretty nose and he likes the shape of your eyes but what Eddie likes the most about your face is your smile. It looks so effortless when you smile and yet he knows it’s a rarity. Eddie can’t help but feel special for being the one to make you smile today, just when you needed cheering up the most.

Pulling your eyes away from the treeline, you look to Eddie and catch him staring at you. For a second, Eddie freezes before quickly clearing his throat and saying “Well, I should get going”. He gives you a quick, tight lipped grin before walking away.

Eddie walks a few paces, about to leave from under the bleachers when he suddenly stops and calls out your name. It catches you by surprise, until now you didn’t know Eddie knew your name. Looking back at you one more time, he adds “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a loser. You’re pretty cool actually”. And with that, Eddie leaves, hoping you didn’t notice how his cheeks had become a light shake of red.

Eddie doesn’t know why he hasn’t talked to you sooner. It was so easy speaking to you, as if you’re a friend he’s known for years. Of course he’s wanted to talk to you for a while now but Eddie never saw a proper opening to speak to you, putting more pressure on himself over time to make a decent first impression, something he never typically worries about. But now that he’s talked to you and managed to make you laugh too? A small, goofy smile forms on his face as he thinks back to the brief interaction he’s just had with you. Shaking his head slightly, Eddie tries to shake the smile off of his face.

You watch Eddie go until he’s out of sight. Well, that was someone you never expected to comfort you but you wouldn’t change it for the world. You were a stranger to him and he still made an effort to comfort you.

Although a lot of other students judge Eddie from what they see on the outside, you never judged him and yet you still feel as though you’ve underestimated him.

You clench your hand, suddenly remembering that you’re still holding something. Bringing your hand out in front of you, Eddie’s bandana comes into view. “Shit” you mutter, completely forgetting to give it back to him.

You feel kinda foolish for smiling at the bandana but it reminds you of him and it gives you hope that you’ll talk to him again soon, even if it’s simply to return his bandana.

Hearing some students pass by the bleachers, you snap back to reality and remember you have a class to get to. Shoving the bandana into your bag, you take a deep breath and leave, ready to take on the rest of your day.

#not me writing something that isn’t red dead related O-O #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #st4 #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things

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jaehyunfirstlove · 4 years ago

Text

You decide you’re ready to have a baby. The catch? You’re not seeing anyone at the moment. Enter your best friend, Jeong Jaehyun. Will he be the answer to your dilemma?

Pairing: best friend!Jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: best friends to fwb to lovers, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy and childbirth, sperm donors, IVF (in vitro fertilization), fertility drugs, mood swings, fingering, unprotected sex, cum play, nipple play, breeding kink, oral sex (f.receiving), dirty talk, pregnant sex, rough sex

Word count: 10.6k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh @keeach (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: this was only meant to be a short fic but it morphed into this monstrosity. I tried to tag for everything but if I missed anything please let me know. Inspired by the fact that Jaehyun wanted to be a teen dad (but they are not teens in this story, just thought I’d make that clear :) Also please excuse my unimaginative name for the baby, I’m terrible at coming up with names lol

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional so please excuse any inconsistencies.

“So what have you got planned for today?” your best friend, Jaehyun, asked you as he took a sip of his coffee, shielding his eyes from the sun’s rays coming through the window of the cafe.

It was your weekly Saturday brunch, at which Jaehyun would show up, nine times out of ten, hungover, wearing dark sunglasses, a baseball cap, a black t-shirt and sweats. There was never a deviation from this outfit, even on the times when he came not hungover.

“Oh not much, just an appointment at the fertility clinic this afternoon.”

Jaehyun paused, as you took a sip of your latte. You couldn’t see the look in his eyes through the sunglasses but his fork had stopped midway to his mouth. It hovered in the air, scrambled eggs sliding off of it and plopping onto the plate below.

“The where?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you above the top of his sunglasses.

“Fertility clinic. Looking into getting a sperm donor.”

The matter-of-fact way you were saying everything seemed to shock him, his fork still not moving towards his mouth or back onto the plate.

“Excuse me, a sperm donor?”

You put your coffee cup down, and sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked, I told you before I wanted to have a baby.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Well I wasn’t!” you don’t know why you were being so indignant, maybe because all you’d heard from everyone around you, from your parents to your doctor to the lady that sold you pretzels from a street cart, was negative. You shouldn’t have a baby without a partner, was the main point of contention, but how was that going to happen if you weren’t seeing anyone, and hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost a year.

“But a sperm donor, Y/N?” he asked, after mulling over what you just said.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?” you countered. You were so sick of everyone around you criticizing your plan.

“I don’t know, what if he’s like, a serial killer or something?”

“They do psychiatric assessments on everyone who donates.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an undiagnosed illness-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jaehyun!” you’d had it, letting out an exasperated huff, “Do you have a better idea? Do you want to be my sperm donor?”

You weren’t at all serious, you were just mainly upset and unfortunately, taking it out on him, but he actually sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised, as if he were contemplating it.

“Anyway, forget it. I don’t need your approval. I just hoped that you’d support me, of all people.” You couldn’t help but pout. He was your best friend and he’d stuck with you when no one else had. You may have said you didn’t need his approval but deep down you wanted him to be on your side.

He leaned forward, took his sunglasses off and looked you in the eye. “Of course I support you,” he said sincerely. “If this is what you want, then I’m with you one hundred percent of the way.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter, and just as you took a sip of your latte he said the one thing that would complicate your life forever.

“But I get to be that sperm donor.”

You spluttered, almost choking on your latte. “I wasn’t being at all serious, Jaehyun,” you chuckled nervously, but one look at his face and you could see he was being completely serious.

“I just don’t like the idea of some stranger being the father of your child,” he said quietly, looking down at his plate of food while he said it, “might as well be me, right?” He looked up at you hopefully.

You didn’t know what to say. This was your best friend, the one you’d grown up with, the one you’d catch tadpoles with, the one you’d drag to the playground with you, the one you told all your innermost secrets to. The one who knew you best. Didn’t it make sense then, that he would be the one to share this with you, in the end? You looked at his face; open, sincere, beautiful. You knew he was attractive, with the trail of broken hearts he’d leave in his wake, but you hadn’t really looked at him in that way before. Suddenly he was a new person to you, and now you didn’t know how to feel.

“Jaehyun, I-” you rubbed your hands together nervously, still unsure of what to say, “it’s a big thing, you know? This will change the rest of your life.”

He nodded, but there was no trace of hesitation in his actions. In fact, he looked as sure as anything. “Yeah that’s a given. But I’ve thought about it and I’m ready.”

“Jaehyun, you’ve literally thought about it for, like, the few minutes we’ve been sitting here.”

He smiled, “Actually I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“About being a sperm donor?”

He laughed. “No, not specifically a sperm donor. But it’s a start,” he shrugged. “So what do I have to do?”

---

Jaehyun accompanied you to the appointment at the fertility clinic, where they outlined the plan and what was required of the two of you. It didn’t sound too bad, but you did find that having Jaehyun there to support you was really helpful. Every time the doctor explained something that made you nervous you would look over at him and he would smile confidently at you, sometimes squeezing your hand if you looked particularly concerned.

It was the fertility drugs they gave you, that threw your world into chaos. They had warned you of the side effects but you didn’t think it would be this bad. Your mood swung back and forth like a pendulum, one moment you were happy, the next you were crying into your cereal. You were irritable more than you had ever been in your life, and constantly snapped at every little thing. Not to mention that your breasts were sore and you had nausea, making you feel like you were pregnant already. You felt bad for Jaehyun when he was around for your mood swings and irritable moments, but he handled it much better than you thought he would. He’d give you your space when you needed it, but also sit by your side when you didn’t want to be alone. You found yourself thinking about how he would be as a father, but then you would remember that he was just the sperm donor.

One day, when he was sitting beside you on the couch, rubbing your back after you’d cried over your coffee order being wrong, you ended up asking him how much he wanted to be involved.

“We didn’t talk about the ‘after’,” you said, still sniffling. He stopped rubbing your back and looked at you.

“What do you want the ‘after’ to look like?” He asked, his tone level and gentle.

You had visions of Jaehyun rocking the baby to sleep, of Jaehyun seeing the baby walk for the first time, of Jaehyun teaching your child how to ride a bike, piano lessons, soccer games, first day of school. The perfect family. Except he wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t know what to ask of him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. He went back to rubbing your back.

“I’ll be as involved as you want me to be,” he said softly, “my only request is that I get to be a part of their life.”

That sounded fair, you thought. This was certainly going to be more complicated than getting a stranger as a sperm donor.

---

You went through several cycles of IVF, but none had been successful and you were losing hope. Not to mention the fertility drugs were really taking a toll on you, and the doctor had recommended taking a break. You were devastated, seeing it as the end of your dream, no matter how much the doctor reassured you that it wasn’t.

“There has to be another solution,” you pleaded at one appointment. Jaehyun hadn’t accompanied you and you felt yourself falling apart without his presence.

“Well, of course there’s the surefire way,” the doctor shrugged.

“What’s that? I’ll do anything!” you were hopeful once again at the doctor’s words.

“Regular sexual intercourse.”

Of course, you thought bitterly. You couldn’t help but think this was society punishing you for doing this without a husband. Undeterred, you resolved to discuss it with Jaehyun.

---

The look on Jaehyun’s face when you broached the subject was one you had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of shock, terror, resignation, and… something else, almost like acceptance, as if this were the natural course of things.

You resolved not to make it weird, it was just sex after all, and you would get a baby out of it, and that was the most important thing. However, your palms still got sweaty at the thought of it, your heart racing imagining him naked. You’d gone swimming with him plenty of times, went on beach outings often, and you realized you’d always avert your eyes from his bare chest. You figured you were just doing it to be polite, but you had no trouble looking at other men’s chests (you were only human, after all). You shook your head of your thoughts, while waiting patiently for him to agree or disagree to your request.

“I know it’s weird,” you began, when he still hadn’t said anything, “but I promise it won’t change anything in our relationship.” You needed him to agree, and at this point you would say anything to convince him. He looked at you thoughtfully, before he nodded.

“Okay, I’m in.”

---

You’d been keeping track of your cycle and had the days you were ovulating marked on your calendar, which you had shared with Jaehyun. It was agreed that he would come to your place after work, where you would have sex in the hopes of making a baby.

The first night you were nervous, pacing your room as you waited for him to come over. When the doorbell rang you literally jumped out of your skin. When you opened the door you were relieved to see that he was nervous too, although he tried his best to hide it. He joked around with you, trying to keep the mood light, and you had to admit you appreciated it. But when you got to the bedroom, you both went quiet. Jaehyun stood at one end of the room and you stood at the other, the bed looming between you.

“Do you want me to turn around while you get undressed?” he asked awkwardly, and you realized you hadn’t thought through the details.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you replied, and when he turned around you hastily undressed and jumped under the covers. “Done,” you advised, and he turned around. He didn’t make a move though, just looking at you pointedly, until you realized and turned your head away. Once he was done undressing you felt him lift the covers and get into the bed with you, and you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.

“Y/N,” he said softly, because you still hadn’t turned back to him. “Can I touch you?”

You bit your lip, still not looking his way, and nodded. His touch made you jolt, even though his hand was warm, the electricity you felt made all your nerve endings feel like they were on fire.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand moving tentatively across your stomach. You nodded but you realized you were panting already, and he had barely touched you. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” he suddenly whispered in your ear, and then he was kissing your neck.

You weren’t prepared for the intimacy, you had really only thought about the intercourse part. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the kissing, and the touching, and how he was so good at making you feel good. You felt like you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, that it was supposed to be “just sex” because you were friends and you weren’t doing this because you loved each other, you were only doing it to have a baby. But the more he touched you, the more he kissed you, the more you fell under his spell. You felt like you should tell him to stop, to just get on with it, but you knew he was doing it to get you nice and wet and therefore more comfortable to take him.

His kisses started to move along your jaw, towards your lips, and when he was finally there, his lips on yours, you felt a panic bubble up in your chest. It was too intimate, too much for someone who wasn’t yours. You pulled away, and he looked at you in surprise.

“No kissing on the lips,” you managed to say, maybe that would be enough to keep it less intimate, you told yourself. He nodded without saying a word, his hand coming up to your breast.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?” he asked, his eyes on yours. You thought for a moment and decided it was okay, and when you nodded he cupped your breast tentatively, all the while watching you for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away he squeezed gently, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a moan, because everything he was doing was making you feel so good. He kept watching your reaction, and when he was satisfied that you were reacting favorably he got bolder, his hand slipping down between your legs.

You yelped when he touched you there, your legs involuntarily closing and trapping his hand. He froze, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flushing with embarrassment, “reflex reaction.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, as you slowly opened up your legs again. He moved his hand slowly, gently, just rubbing the inside of your thigh. “You can relax, Y/N, I promise I won’t hurt you.” His words were soft, his tone gentle, and it did wonders to calm and soothe you.

You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he reached tentatively with his finger, just lightly touching your folds. The electricity you felt when he first touched you came back with a vengeance, and you almost melted right into the bed. Your reaction encouraged him though, and he pressed his finger further in, rubbing your wetness around. When he was satisfied with the state of your arousal he got into position between your legs, placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He paused, looking you in the eye, gently stroking your cheek.

“Ready?” he asked gently, “I’ll go slow.”

You nodded vigorously, to be honest the anticipation was killing you and you were very much aroused, wanting him to just get on with it. When he pushed into you though, you realized you should really be careful what you wished for. The feeling of him stretching you was almost too much, every inch he pushed in agonizingly slow amplifying your arousal to a dizzying degree. By the time he was seated all the way inside you you were panting, almost out of breath already.

“Okay?” he asked, through gritted teeth. You could tell he was holding back for dear life, but he purposely went achingly slow to make sure you were comfortable.

“Yes,” you said, having adjusted to his size, “you can move now.” Your pussy clenched involuntarily around him and he hissed.

“Don’t do that, Y/N,” he groaned, “I won’t last.”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, and as if to get you back he snapped his hips, making you cry out.

“Fuck!” you screamed, and that definitely encouraged him, and he set a pace, fucking you into the mattress. You felt your toes curl, a familiar knot building in your stomach. Once again, you thought, you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you were, it was more important for him to come inside you. “Come on, baby, come for me,” you whispered in his ear, hoping the dirty talk would encourage him.

“Almost there,” he grunted, and as much as you tried not to enjoy it, the way he was drilling into you felt too good. You bit your lip and grasped at the sheets, trying to keep your orgasm down, but he took it as a sign that you were about to come. He reached between you and thumbed your clit, and at that moment your orgasm exploded out of you without warning. He groaned as you clenched around him, finally spilling his seed inside you. You were dizzy, mind hazy from your orgasm, but you were content at the feeling of his cum inside you. He started to pull out, then stopped.

“Oh,” he said, and you looked up at him to see why he was saying that.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s leaking out of you,” he pointed down between your legs. You panicked.

“Well you’re not supposed to pull out right away!” you wrung your hands frantically, “push it back in!”

He looked at you incredulously, before looking down at his already softening cock, realizing it was useless at that point. So he just used his fingers, gathering up the cum that had leaked down and pushing it back into your pussy. You bit your lip again, because the more he pushed in, the more aroused you became, surprised that you weren’t oversensitive at this point. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he didn’t stop, pushing in further and further, in and out, faster and faster, until you were coming again, pussy pulsing around his fingers.

You took a deep breath to regulate your breathing, while he pulled his fingers out of you and sat back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, when you still lay there, unmoving.

“Yes,” you responded, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going,” he said awkwardly, when you didn’t say anything else.

You nodded, still staring up at the ceiling. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” He dressed without saying anything more and left the room.

---

He came over again the next night, and you repeated the same awkward scene from the night before. This continued for a few cycles, with no success, and again you were losing hope.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” you said dejectedly one day. Jaehyun looked over at you, concern etched on his face.

“The doctor said you were fine,” he replied, attempting to soothe you.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with you then,” you huffed, but Jaehyun just shook his head.

“Y/N, they put us through a bunch of tests and said we’re both fine,” he put a hand on your knee to reassure you.

“Then why isn’t it working?” you lamented, on the verge of tears.

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked hesitantly. You looked up at him in surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, curious as to what he had to say.

“Well, I’ve been reading those links the doctor sent, and it said stress is a big factor,” he stated carefully, “I think you just need to relax, and let it happen.”

You were floored. On the one hand you were touched that he had actually read the links the doctor had sent (you had been too impatient to bother), on the other hand, what exactly did he mean by ‘letting it happen’?

“Let’s do things differently next time, what do you think?” he had a twinkle in his eye that was starting to alarm you.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’ll see.” He smiled, much too widely for your liking.

---

The next time came around and you were more nervous than you were the first night, and if this was his idea of making it more relaxed he was already failing miserably. When he showed up at your door though, you almost didn’t recognize him.

Instead of a t-shirt and sweats, he was wearing a crisp white button-down and jeans that sat sexily on his hips. Instead of his hair flat and falling in his face he had it pulled back, with just a few strands falling over his forehead. He also smelled incredible, a musky scent that forever trapped you in his hold, and made you want him in every way he would let you.

He smiled at you, but not in the way a friend smiles at a friend, and when he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek you almost passed out from the warmth of his lips and the intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. He walked past you to the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your underwear dampening.

When you finally collected yourself, you went upstairs to hear the bath running. You walked into the bathroom to see him drawing a bath, candles surrounding the tub, flower petals in the water, and the most luscious smelling bath bomb marinating in it.

“Jaehyun, what-”

“Shh,” he put a finger to your lips, and even that act was so sensual you had to squeeze your legs together, “let me take care of you.” He reached down and turned off the water. “Get undressed and get in the bath, and I’ll come back and help you get relaxed.” He left the room and you did what he said, calling him back in once you were in the bath and the cloudy bubbly water reached the tops of your breasts.

He had such a calm and serene look on his face that it almost threw you off, but then he was taking your puff and squeezing body wash on it.

“May I?” he asked, and when you nodded he gently took your arm and ran the puff along it. He did the same with the other arm, and that simple act, along with the warmth of the bath water, did wonders to soothe you. You felt like you were floating, with the calming scents of the bath bomb, and his gentle touch. He started to run the puff along your neck and you bent your head back and sighed. Soon enough he was dipping below the surface of the water, running the puff between your breasts, and you sighed even deeper as he got lower, past your stomach, and lower still. The puff was forgotten, and now it was just his hand, reaching down between your legs. It all felt so good, you spread your legs even wider, wanting more.

“How does it feel?” he whispered, so close to your ear you shuddered.

“So good,” you couldn’t help but moan, and then his hand was there, cupping your pussy.

“I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” he purred, his voice like honey, “will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes,” the word came out on a long exhale, as he plunged a finger between your folds, and you couldn’t help but fall apart. He fingered you until you came, water splashing all around you as you writhed in pleasure. When you were done he picked you up out of the bath, not caring that his clothes were getting wet, and carried you to the bed. You couldn’t care that you were probably soaking the bed, because his lips were on your neck, hot and urgent, leaving marks that you’d have trouble concealing the next day.

You pulled at his shirt, wanting it off already, and he obliged, throwing the damp fabric to a corner of the room. You rubbed your hands all over his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, then down to his abs. He groaned against your neck when you undid his belt and slipped your hand over his hardened cock.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, when you wrapped your hand around it and pumped.

“Don’t come yet,” you whispered, taking your hand away, opting instead to pull the rest of his jeans and boxers off. You wrapped your legs around him, encouraging him to enter you, but he pulled back slightly.

“Slow down,” he breathed, and you could feel him smiling against your neck, “this isn’t a race, Y/N,” he continued kissing down the column of your neck, down to your chest, “relax, and let me make you feel good.”

You finally relented, relaxing as he’d ordered, letting yourself melt into the mattress as he sucked on your skin. Your body was on fire, both from the heat of the bath you just had as well as the way his lips were ruining you. When he got down to your lower stomach you realized where he was headed, and instead of fighting the pleasure you were feeling you simply gave in. As soon as his wet tongue collided with your wet folds you let go, moaning wantonly at the feeling. Every sound you made spurred him on, every jerk and jolt of your body gave him the impetus to push you to the height of pleasure, until you were yanking at his hair and convulsing around his tongue.

“That was fucking hot, Y/N,” he almost growled, wiping at his chin as he moved to hover above you, “I almost came.”

“Don’t,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “you need to come inside me.”

“You want it? Want my cum inside you, fill you up,” his voice was deep, intense, a tone you’d never heard from him, and certainly words you’d never heard from him, but it certainly was doing the job and making you very aroused.

“Oh god,” you exclaimed, unaware that dirty talk was something you liked. Your previous boyfriends hadn’t been this filthy, but you found you loved it.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, and you’re gonna take all of my cum,” he continued, voice raspy, breath hot in your ear, “I’m gonna knock you the fuck up, and watch your belly grow with my baby.”

“Jaehyun!” you cried out, losing yourself completely. You grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down, and for a split second you saw his eyes grow wide as you smashed your lips against his, your no-kissing rule forgotten. He kissed you with the same passion and intensity that he ate you out with, and you wondered why you had ever put that no-kissing rule into place if he could make you feel like that with his lips. You moaned when his tongue entered your mouth, just as he slid his cock inside you.

This time you didn’t hold back, allowing yourself to feel everything. The way his cock slid in and out of you, the way the tip kept hitting that spot so deep inside you. The way his tongue moved in your mouth, the way his hands rubbed up and down your body, sometimes squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling his muscles move, and when you felt your orgasm start to build you dragged your nails against his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come,” he broke from the kiss to drop his head down to your chest, his thrusts getting harder but more erratic.

“Oh god, do it,” you panted, your orgasm about to burst out of you, “fill me up, baby, I want your cum so bad.”

That was enough to send him over the edge, and he pulled you flush against him as he came inside you, the particularly forceful thrusts triggering your own orgasm and making you clench around him. He let out a loud groan as you milked him, fingernails digging into his back.

When you were both done you held him against you, not wanting to let him go. He obliged, just holding you, his face tucked against your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and that, along with his arms around you and his weight on top of you was all oddly comforting.

“I’m gonna pull out,” he finally said, when he had gone soft inside you. You sighed but nodded, and once he had pulled out you clamped your legs together, trying to keep as much of his cum inside you as you could.

He dressed quietly and you watched him, heart stuttering in your chest, your mind reeling. You had promised him that the sex wouldn’t change anything in your relationship, but you couldn’t believe how wrong you were. You wanted to reach for him, wanted him to stay, but you held back.

“Thanks for that,” you said quietly, and he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely, “I’ll do anything for you,” and he brought his hand up and cupped your cheek, his eyes soft as he looked at you, “you’re my best friend.”

You smiled at him, but inside your heart was breaking. How could you ever think you could do this and keep your friendship as it was?

---

A few weeks later you were late, and although you tried not to get your hopes up you couldn’t help but think this was it. You waited to take the pregnancy test, wanting Jaehyun to be there no matter the outcome.

“What is it? What’s wrong? You said it’s an emergency.” He looked so concerned when he came over, and you almost felt bad for not saying what it was about right away.

“I’m late, Jaehyun,” you announced nervously.

“Where do you have to be?”

“No, I mean my period! I haven’t gotten my period yet!”

He paused, the pieces finally falling into place, and his face suddenly lit up. “Oh shit!” He covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Come with me, I’m gonna take a pregnancy test.” You led him upstairs where he waited outside the bathroom door while you took the test. You placed the stick on the counter and opened the door to let him in.

“Well? What does it say?” he asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes,” you answered nervously, “I can’t look, tell me what it says.” You turned away, so anxious you thought you would pass out.

“One line, so far,” he stated, and you tried to stay calm but your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Hold my hand,” you reached behind you and he took your hand in his, squeezing to comfort you. He was silent for a while, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Well? What does it say now?”

“I see…” he started to say, and you so desperately wanted to turn around but you were too scared.

“What?! Just say it!”

He pulled you to him, turning you around and lifting the stick up to your eye level. “Two lines.”

You blinked a few times, wanting to make sure you were seeing it right, but every time you opened your eyes there were two solid lines. You were pregnant.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, both of your hands going up to cover your mouth. Jaehyun whooped in celebration, jumping up and down with glee. You saw the genuine happiness in his face and so many emotions ran through you that the only thing you could do was burst into tears.

“Aw, Y/N, don’t cry!” he laughed, gathering you into his arms, thinking you were just crying from happiness. But it was so much more complicated than that. You were getting what you wanted, a baby, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for all the complications of having a baby with your best friend, who you may have developed feelings for.

---

The first trimester was hell. You were throwing up every morning, and feeling nausea for the rest of the day. You had an aversion to most food, even hating the smell of certain things, like meat. The only things you could keep down were bread and noodles, and you wondered how the baby could grow when that was all that you ate. But at every appointment the doctor reassured you that the baby was doing well and developing at a good rate. Jaehyun insisted on going with you to your first ultrasound and as much as you wanted him to, you also dreaded it.

When the fuzzy form of your baby showed up on the screen for the first time you felt a surge of happiness overcome you, tears springing to your eyes at the sight of the tiny figure on the screen. You heard Jaehyun inhale sharply and turned to look at him. The awe in his face was so endearing it made the tears run down your cheeks, and seeing your reaction he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug.

“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking, and you cried harder.

“Congratulations!” the technician said, patting you both on the shoulder. You felt like you should correct her, tell her that although the baby was technically yours and Jaehyun’s, you weren’t together and wouldn’t be raising the baby as such. But how do you explain that to a complete stranger? You looked over at Jaehyun, who was smiling from ear to ear, shaking the technician’s hand and making no move to explain the situation.

Later, as you were getting ready to leave the clinic, you saw the technician hand over a copy of the ultrasound picture to Jaehyun. He took it happily in his hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As he walked towards you he slipped it into the plastic window spot in his wallet, where your drivers’ license should be, but his now housed a blurry black and white photo of your baby.

“Hey, wanna get something to eat to celebrate?” he asked, slinging an arm around you as you both left the clinic.

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to spend time with him, you found it hurt more than it helped. Once the baby was born you’d have to deal with him being around more often, so it was better to save up your strength for that.

“I’m actually really tired, I just want to go home and rest,” you answered without looking up at him, “besides, I’m still off most foods.”

“Oh, okay, makes sense.” He said, removing his arm from around your shoulder and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t sound upset or offended, but when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of emotion cross his face, almost like hurt or disappointment. You felt bad, knowing you had been avoiding him, even giving up your weekly brunches, but you felt it was better this way.

“Listen, I’ll let you know when the next ultrasound is, okay? You can come with me again.” You wanted just to wipe the look of disappointment off his face, and luckily it worked.

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks so much, Y/N,” he leaned down and hugged you, and it was the closest he’d been to you since the last time you’d had sex to make the baby. You held him close, committing the feel of him and the scent of him to memory, before you pulled away and walked towards your car.

---

If the first trimester had been hell, the second trimester was heaven. Miraculously the nausea disappeared, and you found yourself actually craving food. You felt more energized and less tired, and slept so much better. Your belly was starting to grow, and you actually had to start shopping for maternity clothes. Your mood was so much better, but what really came back with a vengeance was your libido. During the first trimester you couldn’t even think about sex, but now, it was all you could think about.

Usually your vibrator would do the trick, but there were always moments where you’d think about Jaehyun, think about how good he could make you feel. Sometimes just thinking about him fucking you was enough to get you off, but when you really thought about him, about the feeling of his cock parting your folds, or the feeling of his strong hips pounding into you, his face sweaty and his scent overpowering the air between you, nothing was better than the real thing.

Which is how you found yourself one night, holding your phone and dialing his number without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered, his voice sounding distant. You realized you hadn’t spoken to or seen him in weeks, and instantly you felt terrible.

“Um, actually nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” you could hear him shuffling around, like he had been lying down and started to sit up, “is something wrong, Y/N?”

He always saw right through you, you could hear the concern is his voice, and there was no turning back now.

“Could you come over? I think I need some… company.” You didn’t know if you could just ask for sex over the phone, and was it really only sex that you wanted? Or did you just want him there, with you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I can come over,” you heard more shuffling, like he was getting dressed, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be better when you’re here.” You answered truthfully.

When he showed up at your door you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling him towards you and hugging him tightly. He didn’t protest, just held you and rubbed your back gently.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked softly against your hair.

“I miss you,” you admitted, voice muffled against his chest because you were too ashamed to look at him.

“I’m around, you know,” he chuckled, “you’re the one who cancelled our brunches.”

You pulled back and forced yourself to make eye contact with him. “No, Jaehyun, I miss you.” You touched his chest when you said it, giving him a look laden with meaning. He understood right away, his eyebrows rising slightly. You took him by the hand and pulled him inside, leading him upstairs and to your bedroom. He let himself be led, but once you were behind closed doors he suddenly took you into his arms and kissed you. The kiss wasn’t subtle, or gentle, it was intense and forceful, his intent surely to rile you up. It definitely worked, because you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stuck his tongue down your throat.

“You want my cock again,” he growled, breaking from the kiss to suck a line down your throat. You gasped at his aggressiveness, but you had to admit it really turned you on.

“Yes,” you breathed out, as he stripped you of your clothes and pushed you towards the bed. You fumbled at his clothes, trying to get them off but you found your limbs were weak from the way he was handling you. He took over, stripping off the rest of his clothes, his cock springing forward when he pulled his boxers down. You admired it for only a second before he turned you around, pushing you onto your hands and knees on the bed.

“You like my cock, don’t you, you like me fucking into your little pussy,” he spoke so low, his chest flush against your back so you could feel the reverberation of his voice.

You didn’t have a chance to answer, because he rammed his cock into you, a scream tearing from your throat as he went as deep as he could.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he started to pound into you. You weren’t sure how pregnant sex would feel, since so many things were changing in your body, but you weren’t prepared for what you got. It felt like your entire body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every part of you. He hit places inside you that you’d never felt before, and all of it was like nothing you’d ever experienced.

“Jae,” you panted, “Jae, oh my god!” your orgasm was coming on, super fast and beyond your control.

“You’re gonna come already, baby? Alright, come on, come all over my cock,” he reached down, and although it was a little awkward because of your belly, he managed to get to your clit and rub it with the pad of his thumb.

Your vision went white when your orgasm hit, your fingers and toes going numb as your pussy clenched around his cock. You could barely hold yourself up, your upper body falling to the bed as you convulsed around him. He kept going, fucking you through it, and when you stilled he pulled out and lay you on your back. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, before he entered you again. You cried out at the oversensitivity, but he went slowly, and soon enough you started to feel pleasure again.

“I can keep going,” he said, as he fucked into you at a slow but deliberate pace, “you want more, don’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, already feeling another orgasm building. He propped himself up then, and pounded into you, the bed shaking from his harsh thrusts. You gripped and pulled at the sheets, unable to contain the needy whines and moans coming up out of your mouth. You forced your eyes open to see him hovering over you, a look of intense concentration on his face, his brow sweaty, hair falling into his eyes. When he saw you looking at him his concentration faltered, and he bent his head down for a kiss. You were expecting a kiss to match the intensity with which he was fucking you, but instead it was soft, gentle, lingering. You felt something in it, something above and beyond what he was doing to you, something that carried you where you most wanted to be but didn’t dare go. The orgasm you had then was different, not just purely physical, not just filled with lust, but something more elevated, more emotional.

He broke the kiss to grunt loudly as he came, spilling more of his seed inside you. When he was done he pulled out, and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Y/N,” he said, and you don’t know why he sounded so defeated. You sat up, preparing yourself for what he was going to say.

“Jaehyun,” you reached for him but thought better of it, your hand dropping into your lap.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he said, his voice quiet but determined, “it’s fucking me up and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Your heart sank. He was pulling out of your life, and it was all your fault for doing this to him. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun.”

He got dressed hurriedly, without looking back at you, and before he opened the door to leave he turned back.

“You need to decide for yourself what you want me to be,” he still didn’t look at you, opting to look at the floor instead, “I’ll always be here for you, but I need to know where I stand.”

The door closing behind him echoed in the room, the absence of him already settling into your heart.

---

You went through the rest of the second trimester on your own, too ashamed and heartbroken to see Jaehyun, and too confused to sort out your feelings. He’d text you once in a while to ask you how you were doing, how you were feeling, but there was no talk beyond the pregnancy. He didn’t come to any more of your doctor’s appointments, nor did you ever invite him to any more in the first place. The third trimester hit even worse than the first, your belly was now so big it was almost uncomfortable to do anything, you now had constant heartburn, and you were going to the bathroom every ten minutes because of the weight on your bladder.

About a month before your due date, you were making dinner in the kitchen when you felt an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. You clutched your stomach, gripping the counter in alarm and wondering what you should do. The feeling came and went, but returned after a few minutes. Concerned, you called your doctor, who advised you to come in to the hospital just to get checked out. As you were getting ready you got a text from Jaehyun, asking how you were doing.

Jaehyun: hey just doing my check-in

JH: how is it going today

Me: well it’s probably nothing but

Me: just going to the hospital to get checked out

JH: wait what

JH: let me take you

Me: i should be ok

JH: Y/N pls let me take you

Me: ok

JH: thank you i’ll be right there

You sighed, wishing you had never told him and made him worry. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long since he lived nearby, and soon enough he was pulling up to your house. You didn’t bother to wait for him to come to the door, coming out as soon as you saw his car. You were locking the front door when the uncomfortable feeling came back, making you double over, clutching your stomach.

“Y/N!” you heard Jaehyun yell behind you, and soon enough his arms were cradling you as you crouched over. “What happened? What’s going on?”

His voice sounded frantic, terrified, and when you looked up in his eyes he looked so scared that it made your chest ache.

You smiled weakly, trying to placate him, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just false labor,” you patted him on the arm and soon enough the feeling went away. “My doctor just wants me to come in and get checked out, just in case.”

He nodded, but didn’t look reassured at all, creases of worry still lining his face. He also didn’t let you go, holding onto your arm as you walked to the car. At the hospital he didn’t leave your side, until the doctor came to do your examination.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said hesitantly, but you could tell he didn’t want to leave at all, eyes looking longingly back at you as he left the room.

After the doctor examined you and reassured you that it really was just false labor, you were cleared to leave and found Jaehyun in the hall, pacing. Once he saw you he ran up to you, searching your face with frantic eyes.

“Well? What happened?” he’d taken your hands in his, and his palms felt cold and clammy.

“It was nothing, just false labor, the doctor told me to go home and rest.” You reassured him, squeezing his hands and smiling softly at him. He let out a long breath, collapsing into a nearby chair.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I almost died!” he passed the back of his hand over his eyes dramatically, and you suppressed a giggle at his overdramatic show.

“Don’t laugh!” he sat up and looked at you incredulously, “I lost ten years of my life just now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” you pressed your lips together trying not to smile. He broke into a wide grin then, pleased with himself that he had managed to lighten your mood with his sense of humor.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

---

The drive from the hospital had been quiet, both of you realizing that there was still this huge wall between you, and neither of you were brave enough to breach it. He walked you to your door in continued silence, and once you reached your doorstep he turned around to walk back to his car.

“Jaehyun,” you called, unable to stand it anymore, “do you wanna come in and talk?”

He turned around, a mixture of hope, fear, and resignation on his face, and nodded.

The time apart had made you realize how much you missed him, and seeing him again had made you realize how much you still wanted him to be a part of your life. You were hoping to salvage something of your relationship, but you were fully aware that you could never go back to what it had been.

You sat him down on the sofa and took a deep breath.

“Jaehyun,” you began, getting more and more nervous as you went on, “I know I made things weird, even though I promised I wouldn’t,” he opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him, determined to get out what you wanted to say. “I was so focused on having a baby that I didn’t think about what involving you would mean, and what it would do to our friendship. I think I was just naive, I didn’t think anything would change, and I was so wrong.”

He sat across from you, and even though he was just inches away it felt like he was miles away, like an unfathomable chasm had opened up between you. Then he looked up at you, hesitant, but determined.

“Y/N, we can’t go back and change things anymore. What’s happened has happened.” He tilted his head to regard you, taking a deep breath before moving on, “so I just need to know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want me to be a part of your life?”

“Yes. Always.” You answered truthfully, without a doubt in your mind. He smiled, but there was still something behind his eyes.

“Hey, do you remember that pact we made in eighth grade?” He suddenly asked, his eyes twinkling.

“The marriage one?” you scanned your eighth grade memories and that was the only pact you could think of.

“Yeah, the one where we said if neither of us are married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other?”

“Yes, I remember.” It was during PE class, when you and Jaehyun were sitting in the field while everyone else was running around chasing soccer balls. You don’t remember how the subject came up, but soon enough you were doing pinky swears and Jaehyun was fashioning rings out of blades of grass for you and him to wear. You both had a good laugh over it, and never thought about it again until this moment.

“So what if we didn’t wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we didn’t wait until we’re thirty, what if we just did it now? I mean, we’re having a baby together already.”

“Jaehyun, are you proposing right now?” you said it as a joke, even chuckling to yourself, you weren’t taking the whole thing seriously at all, except Jaehyun wasn’t laughing.

“I mean, I don’t have a ring, but…” he looked around the room, and seeing your spider plant on a nearby table he picked a leaf off and rolled it around itself, making a ring out of it, and slipped it on your finger. You were speechless.

“Jaehyun, you’re serious.” You managed to say after the thoughts stopped running through your brain. You hadn’t really thought about marriage, none of the guys you’d dated had ever made you think about it. You knew you wanted kids, but marriage was something you figured you couldn’t achieve, never having found the right guy. Yet here he was all along, Jeong Jaehyun, your best friend, someone who knew you inside and out. A dawning realization hit you then, that maybe none of your relationships ever worked out because you kept comparing them to Jaehyun, and no one ever held up. You were in love with your best friend, and you didn’t even know it.

“Well?” he asked, with raised eyebrows and hopeful eyes. You stared at the leaf ring on your finger, turning it around and around, your heart and mind finally finding peace in your realization. You looked up at him, cupping his face, and he looked like he was bracing himself for a possibly negative response.

“Yes.” You answered, smiling brightly at him, and it took him a moment to realize you weren’t turning him down. His face broke out into a wide grin, his dimples as deep as ever, his eyes shiny. He pulled you in for a hug, but your belly made it somewhat awkward.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re huge!” he looked down at your belly in awe.

“Jaehyun what the fuck!” you smacked him on the arm, slightly offended.

“No, I meant I was too busy being worried about you that I never noticed how big your belly had gotten.” He reached out his hand tentatively. “Can I touch?”

“Of course,” you said, happy that you could share this with him. You took his hand and placed it on your belly.

“Can you feel the baby move?” He asked, eyes growing wide when his hand landed on your stomach.

“Sometimes, mostly when I’m lying still though.” You let him rub his hand over your stomach, endeared at how awestruck he was, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he moved his hand around. He suddenly leaned forward, his face getting very close to your belly.

“Hey little one,” he called softly, and your heart clenched at the sight of him talking to the baby in your belly, “I’m your dad.”

Suddenly you felt a jolt in your ribs, as the baby stretched and kicked inside you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Did you feel that?” Jaehyun clapped excitedly.

“Damn right I felt it,” you groaned, patting your stomach, “keep it down in there, kicking mama in the ribs really hurts!”

Jaehyun burst out laughing, gathering you in his arms and hugging you tightly. “That was adorable!” he exclaimed, and your heart felt warm as you wrapped your arms around him.

---

You decided to just do a small backyard ceremony for your wedding, neither of you fond of big parties that meant even bigger expenses. Jaehyun moved into your house since he had been rooming with a friend, and once all of his things had been moved in and installed, you were left alone with each other once again.

You don’t know why, but your first night as a married couple felt like the first night you’d had sex, awkward as hell. Once again you stood on either side of the bed, unsure as to what to do.

“Bed?” he finally asked after you’d both stood there for too long.

“Bed,” you answered, and you both got in at the same time. You couldn’t help but laugh at your awkwardness, and that certainly broke the tension. You turned to your side, the only way you could get comfortable with how big your belly was, and he slotted his body behind you, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your belly. You sighed contentedly, loving the feeling of being in his arms.

“This is nice,” he whispered, but his breath against your ear made you shiver, and suddenly contentment wasn’t the only thing you were feeling. Not to mention his hand that was on your belly had moved to your hip, fingers tracing wide circles over the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Jaehyun,” you didn’t mean to, but his name came out in a moan, and his hand stopped its circuit, the faintest bit of pressure being applied to your hip.

“Y/N?” he questioned, but you were taking his hand and moving it up to your breasts. Once he cupped them you moaned again. “Holy shit, Y/N, your boobs are huge!”

“Jaehyun!” you reprimanded him, but he apologized quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-” he cupped and squeezed, feeling the weight of them, “wow,” was all he could say.

“Well they won’t be this big for too long, so you better take advantage of them now,” you encouraged, and he did, tweaking your nipples until you were moaning into your pillow.

“Tell me if I do anything that hurts, or makes you feel uncomfortable, okay?” he whispered into your ear, before he started to plant wet kisses along your neck and shoulder. Your mind went hazy at the feeling of his lips on your skin, and soon he slipped a hand down, past the waistband of your shorts.

You inhaled sharply when his fingers found you wet, when he gathered some of your arousal to rub it around your clit. You moaned loudly when he made circles around your bud, pressing your face further into your pillow.

“Don’t do that, baby, I wanna hear you,” he pulled the covers off and pushed your pillow away, helping you take off your shirt and the rest of your clothes so you were fully exposed to him. He looked at you, lust and hunger clouding his eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous knocked up with my baby.”

Your pussy clenched at his words and you pulled at his own clothes to get him to take them off. “Come here and fuck me, husband.”

Your words ignited something in him, and he bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing into you. You cried out, not caring anymore how loud you were being, the feeling of his cock inside you throwing you into the heights of pleasure. Once you started though, you couldn’t stop, moans and whimpers and whines tumbling out of your lips as he pumped his cock inside you.

“You like it, don’t you?” he growled, “you like my cock so much you let me knock you up.”

You moaned even louder at his words, your orgasm starting to build in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, god, yes!”

“You want my cum, baby? Look at where it got you, huh? You let me come inside you and now you’re knocked up.” His voice was raspy, deep, and it cut right to your core.

“Fuck, Jaehyun! I’m gonna come!” you warned him, grasping at the sheets as your orgasm hit you, your pussy pulsing around his cock. It didn’t take much longer for him to come, one last thrust that took your breath away, and he spilled his seed into you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “did it hurt at all?”

“No, not at all, it felt good,” you smiled at him, wanting to alleviate his concern. He looked relieved, before he bent down and kissed the swell of your stomach.

“Sorry, baby,” he said sheepishly, addressing the baby, and you could only laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair as he smiled up at you.

---

The next day Jaehyun had left for work, and you were almost out the door yourself when you felt something gush between your legs. You figured you knew what it was and, resolved to stay calm, you quickly called Jaehyun.

“Babe, what is it?” he answered on the first ring.

“I think my water broke.”

“Okay, stay calm, I’m on my way back.”

It didn’t take long for him to come back since he’d just left, and you drove to the hospital all the while holding tightly to his hand. The contractions started then, not too bad at first but as time went on the pain was hard to bear. By the time you reached the hospital you were grimacing in pain and Jaehyun was yelling for someone to come and help you.

You labored for hours, Jaehyun never leaving your side, giving you strength even when you felt like you had no more to give. You wondered how you could have ever done this without him, without his unwavering support, his cheerful but calm demeanor raising you up when you felt like giving in. Soon enough you had a healthy baby in your hands, a boy that an ecstatic Jaehyun had already dubbed his ‘mini me’.

---

If you had known what the first few weeks with a newborn would have been like you would have seriously rethought having a baby in the first place. You were exhausted more than you had ever been in your life, catching sleep for only those precious moments when the baby would sleep. Your breasts were sore from breastfeeding, and if you never saw another poopy diaper in your life it would be too soon. What made it all worth it, was the look of pure innocence in your baby’s eyes, and the way your husband would stare at him like he was the most precious person in the world.

One night you were woken again by the baby’s cries, and trudging to his room you were surprised to see Jaehyun already there.

“Sorry to wake you,” he whispered, “I was changing him and he lost his binky.” You stood in the doorway and watched as your husband expertly handled your son, swaddling him in his blankets and making sure the pacifier was situated in his mouth. “Go back to bed, I got this.”

Jaehyun had done many things during your time together that you considered sexy, but this was probably the sexiest thing he had ever done. You walked back to your bedroom, mentally reminding yourself to reward him when you were more awake.

You lay in bed though, unable to fall back asleep. Your mind was racing, anxieties resurfacing at that dark and quiet time of night. Jaehyun eventually came back, sliding into the bed and spooning you, his arm coming to wrap around your waist.

“Jae?” you whispered, hoping he hadn’t fallen back asleep right away.

“Hm? I thought you were asleep.” He sounded tired, tightening his arm around you.

“Is this the life you wanted?” you asked him, rubbing his arm that was wrapped around you.

“Absolutely.” He answered, without hesitation.

“No, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Why wouldn’t you think I was being serious?” he suddenly propped himself up on his elbow so he could see your face.

“Because you had a life before this, and now it’s just-” you waved your hand in the air, “me and the baby.”

“Just you and the baby? Y/N, you and Yuno are the most important things in my life right now.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yeah I had Friday night drinks and Sunday basketball games, and that was fun and all, but you two are my family now.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“If I did I’d just go and do it? So no, I don’t miss it right now. Maybe eventually? But that doesn’t mean I’d love you and Yuno less.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d told you he loved you, but you knew you’d never get tired of hearing it. You’d been surprised when he’d told you he’d been in love with you for a while, not daring to say anything about it for fear of ruining your friendship. When you’d told him that you wanted to have a baby he knew that there was no one else in the world that he wanted to bear his children except you, and he was relieved when you accepted his offer of being a sperm donor. He had been prepared to be just that, but the sex threw everything into chaos, including his feelings for you and his resolve to keep your relationship as just friends. He felt himself falling even deeper for you, but his heart couldn’t handle the push and pull he was feeling from you. He never wanted to pull out of your life, and he spent more time staring at his phone waiting for you to call or text than he dared to admit. Bringing up the marriage pact had been a gamble, and he was terrified that you’d say no, but when you said yes, he could barely contain his happiness.

“Listen,” he said, taking your hand in his, “this life is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“Really?” you asked, turning to look at him, “With me?”

“Baby, it’s always been you.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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nightlight-writes · 2 years ago

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Rainy Dates w/ Vox and Mysta

Genre: scenarios

Warnings: none (which is surprising tbh)

Notes: I made a bet to myself that if it rained the past week, I would write for Vox. It rained quite a lot, so I decided to write for Mysta too.

DISCLAIMER: The depictions contained herein involve the characters, NOT the streamers.

Vox Akuma

Your first meeting/date with him would be on a rainy day.

First, he would appear to you as a shadowy figure in the fog.

Upon getting closer, he’d offer you his umbrella and a meal at a restaurant.

The restaurant he takes you to is very fancy and expensive, with bright lights on every table and a guitarist playing serenades on a stage.

Did the host ask for your reservation? No worries, Vox can take care of that!

What if you can’t afford any of the items? It’s okay, he’ll pay for everything!

“It’ll be fine, I’ve spent enough lifetimes grinding cash!”

He may even be able to persuade the staff to give you a discount or two!

Discounts can only do so much to patch up the future hole in his wallet, though.

While you wait for the food, he’ll tell you one of his many, many stories.

“A while ago, I met this person who looked a bit too similar to me for comfort…”

Vox would appreciate it if you told some stories too, or maybe if you had the courage to nerd out in front of him.

His dish would be VERY spicy. Maybe even the spiciest dish in the restaurant!

Don’t mind the… noises he makes while eating; he’s just appreciating the food!

Those noises aren’t the only things that come out of his mouth while eating, but you’re not close enough yet for the full… experience.

When it’s time to go, he’ll give you a kiss on the hand before parting ways.

“By the way, here’s my number. Hopefully we’ll meet again in more casual circumstances.”

Mysta Rias

Your partner was sifting through the newspaper when a sudden downpour occurred.

“Fuck! Man, I was looking forward to solving a case…”

However, the moment you stepped into the room a shit-eating grin appeared on his face.

“Long time no see darling! Work’s finally getting to you, huh?”

Mysta then ran to your bedroom, coming out with a mattress and a large pile of pillows and cushions.

“Just watch, we’re going to have like, the cutest pillow fort I’ve ever seen!”

For a few seconds, he stood there thinking of the best way to arrange the materials he had brought.

It wasn’t long though before you could see him placing down cushions in an energetic manner.

The big, wide smile on his face, the way his eyes sparkled, the little —hiyah!— noises he would make…

Yes, it was indeed the cutest pillow fort he and you had ever seen.

After going inside, Mysta brought out his Switch.

The rainy afternoon made the room just dark enough for a good ol’ gaming session.

You decided to challenge him to a competition, figuring that, as his partner, you knew just how to beat him.

Unluckily for you, that… wasn’t exactly the case.

“Did you seriously think I was gonna go easy on you? Well bitch, those chocolates don’t mean SHIT when I’m busy gaming!”

Luckily, you had a backup plan: a pillow fight.

Every time you hit Mysta with a pillow, he’d break out into a string of profanities.

It was cathartic to see the smug little —well, not really— fox scream in anger and terror just minutes after acting like he was on top of the world.

Of course, as time passed he would manage to land some hits on you too.

“Oh baby, it’s on now!”

Ultimately however, the brunette came out looking rather foolish. Little marks decorated his skin, showing his weak points.

It was still raining, so you decided to take a nap.

Just as your partner was going to join you, someone called the landline.

“I’m gonna be back soon, just wait, okay?”

You felt a cloth landing on your back, followed by a small kiss on the cheek.

#nijien #luxiem #luxiem x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #nightlight.txt

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ashleybenlove · 2 years ago

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Title: In Dragons We Trust

Prompt: Dragons

Summary: Hiccup and Dagur discuss Toothless’s name and his trust in Dagur.

Fandom: How To Train Your Dragon

Pairing: Dagur/Hiccup

Word Count: 561

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I don’t own the source material in this fanfic. That’s to whatever company or person owns it. I would never claim to own it.

Notes: There are probable influences from fandom and whatnot in this story. Written for Dagcup Week @dagcupweek, the prompt for July 1/Day 5: “Dragons”. The title is directly lifted from the Riders of Berk episode of the same name. This is set in Race to the Edge, post-season 4.

More Notes on AO3.

Also below.

Hiccup and Dagur watched Toothless play with Sleuther and Shattermaster. There were various local Terrible Terrors nearby. Dagur had his arm around Hiccup’s shoulders.

It was a sunny day with a light breeze, a nice day overall.

Hiccup chuckled at a silly jump Toothless had made and exclaimed his name.

Dagur nudged him.

“Hmm?” Hiccup asked.

“You know, I’ve never heard the story,” Dagur said.

“Of?” Hiccup prompted.

“Why you named him that,” Dagur said. “I mean, I’ve seen his teeth. They’re right there. He can be pretty scary with them. Are you being ironic or something?”

Hiccup laughed.

“So, when I was a young lad of fifteen,” Hiccup said. “And I shot him down, I went to the crash site to find him, considered… killing him. And I couldn’t. Obviously.”

Hiccup took a breath, glanced at Toothless having fun, and smiled.

“So, I set the good boy free. He yelled at me,” Hiccup said.

“Yelled?” Dagur asked.

“Roared in my face,” Hiccup replied.

“Anyways, totally didn’t faint at all,” Hiccup lied. He winked at Dagur.

Dagur chuckled.

“Soon afterwards, I had a question gnawing at me. Why didn’t he kill me? Because Gobber had said in training that they always go for the kill,” Hiccup said. “So, anyways, I find him in the Cove, where he’s kinda stuck on account of the fact I shot him down. So, I go and feed him a fish.”

Hiccup chuckled when he saw Toothless’s ear flaps perk up at the word ‘fish’.

Hiccup gestured to Toothless to come over, which he did.

“So, I have the fish in my hand, Toothless has his mouth open for it, and he’s all gummy,” Hiccup said.

Toothless opened his mouth to illustrate the lack of teeth.

“And I noted that! I made a ‘Toothless’ comment and then just as I was like, ‘I could have sworn you had teeth’, I didn’t even get to finish the sentence, because…” Hiccup gestured at Toothless.

Toothless’s teeth popped back up from his gums.

“He did that, and took the fish.”

“So, it is kind of an ironic name,” Dagur noted.

“I’m nothing if not incredibly sarcastic,” Hiccup said. Hiccup caressed Toothless’s face with his hand for a moment and then pulled his hand away.

Toothless then looked at Dagur and made an encouraging coo at Dagur.

“Dagur, please give Toothless the pats he so deserves. He’s such a good boy, and an excellent judge of character,” Hiccup said.

“I’d be a fool not to listen to him, right?” Dagur said, to Toothless.

Toothless cooed in response.

As Dagur patted Toothless on the head with his free hand, Hiccup smiled fondly.

“You know, Toothless letting you ride him to save me was such a big deal to me,” Hiccup said, softly.

Dagur stayed quiet, continuing to pet the dragon, but eyes focused on Hiccup.

“It was one of the things that had me unsure how I felt about the whole thing,” Hiccup said. “If my dragon was willing to trust you, despite everything, and I trust Toothless profoundly, by the transitive property, I should be willing to trust you.”

He looked over at Dagur and smiled at him.

“And here I am, sitting next to you, with your arm around me, and my dragon is making you pet him constantly,” Hiccup said.

Hiccup then tenderly kissed Dagur on the cheek.

#Dagcup Week #dagcupweek2022 #dagcupweek #how to train your dragon #Race to the Edge #dagcup #dagur #hiccup #toothless #hiccup and toothless #otp: we can do this. you and me. as one.#ashleybenlove fanfic #Dragons

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wil-is-done · 2 years ago

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When You’re A Mystery Kid - Chapter 22B: I Am Danny Phantom - Part 2

Summary: The Mystery Kids meets the half-ghost hero of Amity Park.

Word Count: 10.956

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters featured here.

By the time they arrived, everything was in chaos.

People running and screaming in terror. Cars crashed and overturned. Street vendor stands demolished, their wares scattered on the asphalt road. Roadside buildings wrecked, their windows shattered and some even missing chunks of their walls. It was all a shocking sight to take in for Norman. However, the most shocking sight of all was of the seeming culprits behind the chaos.

Ghosts.

They had to be ghosts. Norman had no doubts about it. About two dozen of them, all floating, all wreathed in an otherworldly, green glow. They tossed objects about with reckless abandon and fired strange blasts of energy from their hands in random directions, all seemingly with the intent of causing as much destruction as possible. The violence they engaged in left Norman at a loss for words. He had never seen ghosts indulge themselves in such mindless destruction before in his life. Although, Norman noted with suspicion that the ghosts all seemed to posses blank, glowing red eyes. That cannot be a coincidence.

Norman glanced about at his friends, who looked just as appalled by the destruction as he was. He gritted his teeth; how would they be able to face off against enemies they couldn’t even see?

“Flying, red-eyed green men, huh? That’s new.”

Norman whipped his head towards Raz, who had stated that so casually. “You can see them?!”

Raz gave him an incredulous look. “Of course we can. Why wouldn’t- wait…” Realization slowly dawned upon Raz’s face. “No way…”

“They’re ghosts.” Norman said grimly. “No doubt about it. They’re all ghosts.”

The Mystery Kids looked at each other for a moment, looking appropriately surprised and confused. Norman spotted Neil vigorously rubbing his eyes before looking back at the direction where the ghosts were.

“Uh, right, since when was that a thing we can do?” Wybie asked.

“Well, as far as I know, when a ghost is powerful enough, they can choose to make themselves be seen.” Norman explained. “Like Aggie. Everyone can see Aggie.”

Coraline breathed out a long sigh. “So, what you’re saying is, we’re going up against two dozen ghosts who might be as powerful as Aggie?”

“No. I mean, hopefully not?” Norman shrugged sheepishly.

Mabel, who had so far kept her eye on the ghosts with her head cocked to the side, turned to look at him. “Welp, you’re the master of all things ghostly. What do we do?”

Norman turned his gaze towards the still-rampaging ghosts, considering the question. “I’ll try to talk to them. You guys stay back for now.” He eventually replied. “Ghosts don’t get this… destructive for no reason. I need to at least find out why.”

Judging from the frowns on their faces, his friends seemed to have doubts about Norman’s plan, but eventually they all nodded, agreeing with him, even if reluctantly. “Be careful, Norman.” Neil said, which Norman replied with a reassuring smile.

Taking a deep breath, Norman stepped forward into the chaos. He scanned the area, quickly spotting a pair of ghosts nearest to him. One was lanky and gaunt-faced, while the other one was relatively bulkier and more muscular, and they were both occupied with reducing an overturned car into nothing but scrap metal. Norman was careful in approaching them, making sure none of the other ghost would notice him talking to them. Deciding he was close enough, Norman drew in another deep breath, before he called out to them.

“Hey! Hi! Excuse me!”

They both paused, giving each other a look, before they slowly turned to face Norman. Their blank, red-eyed glares made Norman stumble over his words for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure again.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened to you and your friends, or what the city did to you that led you to start destroying it, but all of this?” Norman gestured to the chaos around him. “This won’t make anything better. I know it feels good, right now. It even feels right, to do all of this. But it’s not going to help. If you keep doing this, you’re just going to feel worse!”

The ghosts’ expression stayed neutral. They simply glanced at each other again, but otherwise they appeared to be listening in. That prompted Norman to continue with increased gusto.

“If you guys really want to make things right, make yourselves really feel better, my friends and I can help. Whatever it is, I promise you, we will help you get through it. If you can just talk to your other friends and get them to calm down and listen, then we can-”

Norman was cut off when the lanky ghost suddenly ripped out one of the tires of the overturned car and tossed it at him. Before he could react, he suddenly felt his legs leaving the ground as he floated back by several feet, the tire striking the spot where he once stood. Once he regained his footing, he looked over his shoulder, spotting Raz with an arm outstretched pulsing with psychic energy.

Norman was about to thank him when a voice rang clear through the chaos.

“Trying to appeal to their sense of humanity, child? How charming.”

The source of the voice, stepping into the center of all the chaos, revealed itself to be nothing more than a man. His most striking feature, Norman noticed, was his extremely pale white skin, almost like the color of chalk, as well as his decidedly sinister red eyes. He was bald, Norman could tell, covered up somewhat by a small, black bowler hat. He wore a flowing, dark gray coat that was rather intricately designed, but it also with obvious signs of wear and tear. A prim and proper bowtie circled his neck, and his black boots appeared to be polished to perfection. The man watched Norman, as well the rest of the Mystery Kids, with apparent amusement.

“They lost any shred of humanity they had when they passed.”

Norman backed away from the man, rejoining the gathering of his friends. Whoever the man was, he was definitely the leader of this group of ghosts. As for how, Norman still had no idea.

Raz was the first of them to bite back. “You don’t look very human yourself. Who are you supposed to be, Nosferatu?”

The man simply grinned. He snapped his fingers, and almost immediately, every ghost in the vicinity stopped their rampage, all of them falling in line behind the man.

“My name is Frederich Isak Showenhower.”

He lifted his bowler hat and performed a deep, practiced bow.

“But you may know me as Freakshow.”

Norman’s heard of that name from somewhere, though he has trouble recalling from where exactly. Judging from how both Raz and Dipper’s eyes lit up, they definitely knew more about the man than Norman did.

“Nope.” Raz shrugged with deliberate nonchalance. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

To Norman’s surprise, the amused smile on Freakshow’s face gave way to an annoyed frown. “Seriously? Ringmaster of the infamous Circus Gothica? Ever heard of it?”

“Nope.”

“We’re banned from twenty different states!”

“Nuh uh.”

Freakshow let out a long, suffering sigh. “Well, you don’t look like the type I cater to anyway.” He suddenly pointed over to Coraline, the smile back on his face. “Now, you! You surely must have heard of me?”

“Uh, no? Why the hell would I?” Norman had no idea if Coraline was being genuine or if she was just helping Raz in trying to annoy the man. Either way, it seemed to be working. “What’s it even supposed to be, anyway? Some sort of… satanic cult?”

Freakshow stomped a foot down indignantly. “It’s a circus! It’s in the name, you little-!” he sighed, his shoulders slumping, before he quickly regained his composure. “I shouldn’t even bother with people like you. Run along and cower, like the rest of the pathetic masses.” He turned his gaze upwards, looking strangely expectant. “My prize shall be here shortly.”

Raz took a step forward, hands pulsing with psychic energy. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly normal ourselves, and we’re not going anywhere, baldy.”

Lili stepped forward as well. “For committing acts of wanton destruction, you and your accomplices are hereby under arrest. We can do this the easy way, or the I-burn-your-ass-off way.” She smiled. “Please choose the latter.”

Freakshow laughed out loud. “Arrest me? Who do you think you are?” he sneered.

“The Mystery Kids.” Coraline joined Raz and Lili, placing herself between the two. She held her new psychic baton in her hand.

Freakshow rolled his eyes. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“No.” Coraline pressed the button on the baton. The six-inch long rod immediately extended to about twenty five inches, ending on a rounded tip pulsing with purple, psychic energy. She held the weapon at the ready. “But it’s about to be.”

Freakshow’s eyes narrowed. “Cute.”

He snapped his fingers, and immediately a pair of ghosts broke off from the group behind Freakshow. They flew over to a nearby ruined food cart, together lifting them into the air before launching it towards the Mystery Kids. Coraline took a step back while Raz and Lili both extended a hand outwards, a barrier starting to form around the group. However, before the cart could impact the barrier, there was a flash of green, and the cart was suddenly blasted to the side.

“No one told me the circus is back in town!”

Norman had to suppress a gasp. He had only heard that voice once before, on a news broadcast, but he recognized it all the same.

A figure landed in front of the Mystery Kids, putting itself between them and Freakshow and his ghosts. Norman’s jaw dropped. Even just from looking at the figure from behind, the white hair and the black bodysuit meant that the figure could only be one person and one person only.

“Danny Phantom!” Freakshow grinned. “Apologies for not calling ahead. I thought you might like the surprise.”

“Surprised, yes. Like, not really.” Danny retorted. “I especially don’t like how you’re not in prison.”

Freakshow waved a hand dismissively. “Prison life didn’t suit me. Terrible crowd, as well. Had to move on.”

“Well, the warden just called. The inmates want an encore.”

“Tell him I’m booked. I’ve got a show to do, right here, right now.”

“His schedule’s flexible. In fact, once we’re done here, I can probably give you a ride there.”

“Oh, this show won’t end the way you’d expect.”

Lili covered her face with a hand, wheezing out a low, “Oh my god.”

“Hey!” Coraline shouted, drawing all attention to her. “You guys seriously gonna talk all day?”

Freakshow responded by shooting a glare at Coraline, while Danny looked surprisingly embarrassed by the situation. “Er, right.” Danny cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder to address the Mystery Kids. “You guys should clear the area. You do not want to get caught in the crossfire.”

Both Coraline and Lili narrowed their eyes at him, but Raz was quick to speak up with a friendly smile. “Danny, if it’s all the same to you, we’re here to help you kick baldy’s ass.” Raz’s words prompted Danny to turn around, dumbfounded. “Big fan, by the way.” Raz quickly added.

It took a few moments for Danny to find his voice. “Alright, thanks, but I got this. I appreciate the offer to help, but I can’t afford to worry about you guys while fighting them at the same time. No offense.”

Raz was about to say something in reply before Coraline cut him off. “Hero, in case you didn’t notice, I’m carrying around this fancy power stick.” She gestured to the baton in her hand. “And then there’s goggles over here with his magic glowing hands.” She used the baton to point to Raz, specifically to his hands that pulsed with psychic energy. “Trust me when I say that we can handle ourselves.”

Danny’s eyes darted towards Coraline’s baton, then to Raz’s hands, then his eyes scanned the entire group, seemingly taking in their appearances for the first time. “Okay… I have to admit, those are pretty weird. You guys are pretty weird.” he stated. “But, still, you won’t be much help. Freakshow’s got ghosts. Only a ghost can harm another ghost.”

“You know, y’all should listen to him!” A foreign voice suddenly called out. Norman, along with the rest of his friends, turned their heads towards the source of the voice, quickly spotting a pair of teenagers peeking out of some nearby wreckage. One was male, with dark skin, and sporting glasses and a hat that he wore backwards, and the other was a female, dark-haired, with a clothing ensemble that was almost all black. It became clear the one that spoke up was the male. “He really knows his stuff!” He called out again.

Now it was Coraline’s turn to look dumbfounded. “And who are you supposed to be?” she called back.

“They’re my friends.” Danny replied. “Follow them. They’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Raz spoke with concern. “Danny, we’re not going to leave you to fight twenty of them on your own. You’re worried for us, but we’re worried for you too!”

“I’ve been through worse. Trust me.” Danny actually placed a reassuring hand on Raz’s shoulder. “I’m Danny goddamn Phantom.”

Raz took a second to gaze on Danny’s hand upon his shoulder in disbelief, before he looked up in awe to meet Danny’s gaze. Norman looked on quietly from the back, almost jealous of the fact that Danny Phantom himself touched Raz. However, the moment was broken when Raz suddenly shouted out, “Behind you!”

Danny spun in place, arm raised to create a green barrier in front of him. The green ray of energy that sped towards him struck the barrier, dispersing harmlessly against it. Across from where Danny and the Mystery Kids stood, a ghost had stepped forward with an arm outstretched, while Freakshow looked visibly irritated by the current circumstance.

“Finished?” He hissed through gritted teeth. “You know, I planned on saving this for the big finale, but since you so rudely decided to ignore me…”

Putting on a wicked grin, Freakshow slowly reached into the insides of his coat. With that same deliberate manner, he pulled out what appeared to be some sort of staff, colored red and tipped with a bat-shaped effigy, studded with a pair of green gems that acted as the bat’s eyes. Resting above the bat effigy was a crystal ball that displayed a constant swirl of crimson-colored energy.

“Remember this?” He practically purred at Danny. “You’re quite enamored with this, if I recall correctly.”

Just seeing the object for what it was, Norman could tell that it was a rather powerful supernatural artifact, and the fact that it was held in the hands of Freakshow already put him on edge. However, to see Danny Phantom suddenly physically reel back and raise his arms to shield his now-panicked face, Norman’s level of alarm rose significantly.

“How did you get that back?!” Danny cried out.

Freakshow let out a low chuckle. “A good performer never reveals the secret to his act. That’s the magic of the circus, you see. Keeps you guessing.”

Out of the corner of Norman’s eye, he spotted Danny’s two friends rushing out of cover to stand by Danny’s side. The boy seemed to be helping Danny shield his face, while the girl put herself between Danny and Freakshow.

Coraline eyed Danny’s demeanor warily. “Gonna guess that magic staff is bad news?” She asked

“Very.” The dark-haired girl replied, shooting Coraline a grim look.

Freakshow took a few steps forward, his ghostly entourage following closely behind him.

“Come now, Danny. You made for such a useful addition to my collection of oddities two years ago, imagine how useful you would be to me now.”

Freakshow licked his lips, a manic grin on his face. A chill ran down Norman’s spine.

“Come on. Show your true colors once again. Cross over to the dark side.”

With his face still shielded, Danny yelled out a reply. “Never again, you shriveled marshmallow!”

“Oh, you will. You will.” Freakshow stated. “Minions,” he pointed at Danny with his staff, “bring him to me.”

All at once, Freakshow’s minions surged forward past him. Some of them had their hands glowing with some sort of green energy, while others picked up whatever debris they could and brandished them as weapons. With the encroaching ghosts only moments away from being upon them, Coraline and Raz looked at each other, and without saying a word, both of them came to a grim realization; there’s only one option left for them to take.

“Fall back!”

“Retreat!”

Norman was among the last to turn tail and run. He wanted another chance to at least try to talk to the ghosts, but a panicking Neil running back to him to tug him and yell in his ear finally convinced him to join the others in escaping. A rain of green energy rays and debris soon consumed the spot where he once stood.

Raz, Lili, and Danny stayed at the back of the group, with Raz and Lili summoning a psychic barrier to shield them while Danny blindly shot green energy rays behind him to at least try to slow down the ghosts. Norman grimly noted that, while the psychic barrier held up just fine against the debris, the green energy rays went past the barrier like it wasn’t even there, nearly striking the Mystery Kids as they fled. Another grim observation Norman made was that, as Raz and Lili fired a few quick psi-blasts at the ghosts, all of their shots simply passed through harmlessly.

Danny was right; among them, he really is the only one that could face the ghosts.

Although, Norman had to wonder… could his lightning affect the ghosts?

Norman quickly shook off that thought. There’s something off about those ghosts, and he wasn’t going to subject them to the lightning without knowing more first.

Both Raz and Lili seemed to be quick to catch on that psi-blasting the ghosts would be a waste of effort. In the rush of the chase, Norman heard Raz bark out an order of, “Lil, time to vanish!”

Raz and Lili dropped their barriers at the same time, swiftly following up by summoning a dome of psychic energy that surrounded both the Mystery Kids and Danny and his friends. The advance of the ghosts came to an abrupt halt, all of them looking around in confusion. Far behind the ghosts, even Freakshow’s eyes went wide in surprise. Norman and the rest of the Mystery Kids, familiar with this particular psychic ability, kept their voices down and slowed to a stop, while silently signaling Danny and his friends to do the same.

Coraline made her way to the front of the group and pointed to a nearby alleyway between two buildings. “In there. Hurry.” She whispered.

The group dived into the alleyway as fast as they could while being as silent as possible. Behind them, Norman could hear the voice of Freakshow shouting out, “Find him! Bring my prize to me!”

A few tense seconds passed of them hearing ghosts zipping out in different directions before they all collectively allowed themselves to breathe out a sigh of relief. The dome around them dissipated a moment later, accompanied by the sound of Raz and Lili panting in exertion. Beads of sweat were already forming on their foreheads.

“Okay, first things first,” Coraline started, putting herself at the center of attention, “what exactly is the deal with tall, pale, and crazy back there?”

Raz was the first to answer. “I heard some stuff about him and his ‘circus’. All of them are bad. Gets involved in lots of shady stuff.”

Dipper’s answer came next. “He’s obsessed with ghosts and anything involving them. He even wrote a book about them.” He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “I’m… pretty sure I own a copy.”

“Good to know you’re supporting your local supervillain.” Lili retorted, which prompted Dipper to avert his gaze.

Coraline’s eyes turned towards Danny and his friends, the three of them currently leaning against the wall. “Danny, from what I heard back there, you had beef with that guy before?” She asked.

“I did.” Danny nodded. “Two times. Both of them are pretty close calls.”

Raz joined in with a question. “Anything you can tell us about him?”

“Besides the fact that he’s evil and a creep, there’s not much to tell about him. What’s important here is that staff.” Danny leaned forward. “It allows him to control ghosts to do whatever he wants them to do.” He put a hand on his chest. “That includes me. You can see the problem here.”

Norman blinked. “You mean those ghosts are being forced into doing this?”

Danny replied with a nod. Norman felt his hands clench into fists before he could control himself, that familiar spark of energy already threatening to leak out. He drew in a deep breath, the energy subsiding, for now. If the lightning had to come out today, at least now he knew who to use on.

“Except, that staff was supposed to be destroyed!” One of Danny’s friends, the dark-haired girl, exclaimed. “Shattered into a million pieces! It’s literally impossible for him to get his hands on it again.”

Danny scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, that’s the big question mark.”

Coraline and Raz shared a look, before Coraline asked, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I know of. Without that staff, he’s just a regular guy.”

“Hold up, sorry to interrupt this, but,” Danny’s other friend, the boy with the glasses, cut in, “who are you guys exactly?”

Raz offered him a friendly smile. “We’re friends.”

“Allies.” Coraline was quick to say. “Let’s start with allies.”

Raz paused for a moment to shoot Coraline a sour look, before he continued on. “Bottom line is, we want to kick Freakshow’s ass just as much as you do.”

“If you’ll let us, we can do it together.” Coraline finished.

A few seconds passed in silence as Danny considered the suggestion. He looked to his friends; first, to the boy with the glasses, who simply offered a shrug, then to the dark-haired girl, who gave him a hesitant nod. Finally, Danny looked at Coraline and Raz, and said, “Alright. For this one time, let’s see how it goes.”

Raz clapped his hands together. “Nice!” he announced with a grin. “Okay, quick rundown, I’m Raz, and this is Coraline.”

“Not Caroline. Coraline.”

“She’s Lili, and there’s Wybie, Dipper, Mabel, Neil, and that’s Norman.”

As Danny’s gaze landed on him, Norman could only muster an awkward, sheepish little wave as a reply. Danny raised an eyebrow at that for a moment, before his attention returned to Coraline and Raz.

“Pleased to meet you all. I’m… well, you already know I am. These two are my friends. Sam,” Danny first gestured to the dark-haired girl, “and Tucker.” He then gestured to the boy with the glasses. “They don’t have powers, but they are very capable. You can take my word for it.”

Tucker took this opportunity to speak. “Y’know, if you want us to work together, you better have a good plan. This many people in the playing field? It could get messy.”

Raz looked towards Coraline for an answer, and Coraline in turn spent the next few seconds gazing at the entrance of the alley, at the chaos still occurring beyond it, the gears visibly turning in her head. While still focusing on the alley’s entrance, she finally asked, “Danny, how do you feel about being bait?”

Danny gave her a nervous look. “Generally? Not cool with it. What do you have in mind?”

“You’re the only one that can do anything to those ghosts.” As she turned towards Danny, a smile had started to form on her face. “At the same time, Freakshow only cares about you. He doesn’t give a damn about the rest of us. We can use that.”

“If you can draw all those ghosts away, the rest of us can sneak over to him and take his staff. Kick his pasty ass too while we’re at it.” Coraline explained. “Of course, if those ghosts overwhelm you and Freakshow gets to you, then it’s game over. So, we need to make sure you don’t get too much attention.” She shifted her gaze towards Raz and Lili. “You two lovebirds up for that?”

Raz crossed his arms in rather smug manner. “Be Danny’s bodyguard for the day? Hell yeah.” Lili didn’t say anything, but she did put on quite a confident smile.

Coraline opened her mouth to continue, only to be interrupted by the sound of a rather loud scream, which was accompanied by the distinctive sounds made by those green energy rays. It caught everyone’s attention, and the alley settled into silence for a few moments.

Wybie was the first to speak again. “Jonesy, I don’t think everyone made it out in time.”

Coraline closed her eyes for only half a second, quickly regaining her composure. “Mabel and Neil, you’re on evacuation duty.”

Mabel brandished her grappling hook with a grin, while Neil performed a salute. “Consider those people saved, captain!” He announced.

“Now, for the two of you,” Coraline pointed at both Sam and Tucker, “which one of you is good with people?”

Tucker raised his hand. “That would be me.”

“Relatively speaking.” Sam added with a smirk.

“Tucker, you help out Mabel and Neil.” Coraline had to fight back a chuckle. “Good luck.”

Both Mabel and Neil were at Tucker’s side in an instant. “Nice to meet you! I hope we can work together well!” Neil said as he enthusiastically shook Tucker’s hand.

“Love the backwards hat, by the way.” Mabel pointed at Tucker’s hat with her grappling hook, which made him flinch slightly. “Very nineties.”

“Everyone else, you’re with me. We sneak around, catch Freakshow off-guard, and make him pay for all of this.” Coraline accentuated the sentence with a swing of her baton. “Sam, you live here, so can I count on you to lead the way?” She asked.

Sam nodded, though somewhat hesitantly. “I think I can manage.”

“Alright.” Coraline took one last look at the group around her, all wearing expressions of confidence and determination. “You all have your part to play in this.” Her lips quirked into a determined smile. “Let’s save the day. The hunt…”

“… is on!”

Danny, Sam, and Tucker looked appropriately surprised by the Mystery Kids suddenly shouting that out, and Norman couldn’t blame them.

The surprise didn’t last long. “Come on, we can come out at the other side of this alley.” Sam was already running deeper into the alley, motioning for the others to follow her. “Hopefully Freakshow or his minions won’t see us.”

Coraline, Wybie, and Dipper quickly ran after Sam. Norman was about to join them, when he suddenly felt a firm hand grip his shoulder, stopping him. He looked over his shoulder to see Raz, who had taken his goggles off for the moment, staring at him dead in the eye with a look of hardened, yet faltering resolve.

“Norman…” Raz began, but Norman could tell he was at a loss for words, “Listen, I know you’d rather not do… your thing, and I would never force you, but-”

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Raz was trying to say. “I know.” Norman cut in. He smiled, and he hoped that was enough to comfort Raz. “If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate.”

Raz’s face brightened significantly, much to Norman’s relief. Raz patted his shoulder and gave him a determined smile, which Norman reciprocated in kind, before the two broke off to join their respective groups. Before he turned the corner, Norman sneaked in one last look at the group at the alley’s entrance. Raz chatted excitedly with Danny as soon as he joined them.

“So, not to sound incapable or anything, but do you got anything up your sleeve that might help us help you?” Raz asked.

Danny seemed to appreciate Raz’s enthusiasm. “A few.” He replied with a coy smile. He then shut his eyes tight, his body surrounded by a green glow, before there was a sudden flash of light, and out from thin air, four exact duplicates of Danny came into existence.

Raz’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!”

Norman had to agree. Holy shit, indeed.

Danny and his duplicates wasted no time to fly out of the alley. A quick nudge from Lili knocked Raz out of his shock, the two of them swiftly summoning spheres of psychic energy under their legs and hurrying after Danny. Mabel, Neil, and Tucker were the last to leave, darting out of the alley with their heads ducked.

The sound of Dipper calling out his name made Norman realize just how far he had gotten from his own group, and he sprinted after them.

The street at the other end of the alley was not as damaged as the street they were on, but some parts still made Norman cringe. Just as Sam hoped, only a few of Freakshow’s ghosts lingered here, and even those few quickly left as Norman heard Freakshow bellowing out an order to ‘bring my prize’ to him. So far, the plan seemed to be going according to plan. Coraline signaled everyone to just start sprinting once the last ghost left. It took them less than a minute to get from the alley to the end of the street. Sam stopped before the corner of the street and pressed herself against the wall, everyone behind her following her example. She cautiously peeked around the corner.

“Freakshow’s at the end of the next street, in the middle of the intersection.” Sam stated. “Looks like the distraction’s working.”

Coraline stepped forward to join Sam in peeking around the corner. Dipper also stepped forward, but Norman put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Dipper turned to give him a questioning look, which Norman replied with a shake of his head. Norman had known Dipper long enough to know that he couldn’t bear to be out of the loop, but for this one time, satisfying Dipper’s curiosity wasn’t worth the risk of being discovered. Dipper, to Norman’s relief, seemed to understand, reluctantly stepping back to where he was.

A few seconds passed before Coraline signaled them to join her.

“See that diner?” She pointed towards a rather ruined diner, situated about two thirds of the way down the street. “We can hunker down in there. Move out, cover to cover, two at a time. Dipper, Norman, you go first.”

Norman was caught off-guard when Dipper suddenly wrapped his hand around Norman’s own. His heart started beating faster, and it’s not just from the anticipation of having to sneak forward.

“Wait for it…” Coraline held up a hand, keeping a close eye on the next street. “Go.”

Norman and Dipper darted out into the street, going from cover to cover just like Coraline said. Luckily, there was an abundant amount of them, most of them being ruined cars and chunks of destroyed buildings. They didn’t stop at each cover for very long, only a few seconds at a time, mostly because Dipper would impatiently tug them forward before long. A battle must surely be brewing just up ahead, judging from the sounds of energy blasts and of Freakshow bellowing out orders. What little that Norman could spot in the rush - most of it being flashes of light and vague figures zipping around in the sky - pretty much confirmed it. Eventually, even with Dipper rather recklessly leading the way, they managed to slip into the diner undetected.

The inside of the diner was devoid of people - thank god for that - and just as ruined as the outside. Shards of glass and plates scattered on the ground mixed with bits of food, some of the booths have scorch marks on them, and the jukebox even had a chair jammed into it. Dipper hastily cleared up a section of the floor from the debris, before taking off his backpack and setting it against the counter. Norman looked back to the corner where they came from, spotting Wybie and Sam had started making their way over, with Coraline staying back presumably to watch over them. Norman shifted his attention to the other end of the street, getting his first good look of the battle.

Freakshow was indeed standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by three of his ghost minions, all of whom held a car door in their hands as some sort of makeshift shield. Those shields were put to good use to protect Freakshow from blasts of psychic energy, courtesy of Raz and Lili. The psychic duo ran circles around Freakshow, never staying in one place for too long thanks to the psychic sphere under their feet, taking shots at every opportunity. Three more ghosts hounded after Raz and Lili, peppering green energy rays in their direction. Raz opted to dodge the blasts coming his way, while Lili chose to levitate pieces of rubble around her to block the blasts. Freakshow glared at the two psychics, before turning his attention to the sky. Norman followed his gaze upwards.

Up in the sky, Danny and his duplicates were engaged in an all-out battle against the rest of Freakshow’s minions. Norman spotted Danny - or possibly one of his duplicates - getting caught in a hold from behind by one of the ghosts, while another ghost prepared an energy ray to unleash on him. However, that ghost was interrupted when another Danny swooped in to deliver an uppercut, followed by a green energy ray at point blank to blast the ghost away. The Danny caught in a hold managed to break free, spinning around to deliver a roundhouse kick to the ghost behind him. Not even a second later, that Danny was suddenly struck by an energy ray from a different ghost minion. Back and forth the aerial battle went, with either side not gaining a significant advantage over the other. Norman had to admit, Danny seemed to be faring quite well, despite the fact that he was outnumbered.

As exciting as it was to see the hero fight live, Norman tore his eyes away from the spectacle to look for his other friends. He smiled in relief upon spotting them. At the back of the battlefield, Mabel beckoned a group of people out of a ruined shop, directing them to away from the chaos. Nearby, Neil and Tucker worked together to help a couple crawl out of their overturned car, ushering them to safety. With all of Freakshow’s minions preoccupied with fighting against Danny, Raz, and Lili, their task could be done without much trouble.

“Is there five of him?” Hearing Coraline’s voice next to him nearly startled Norman. Looking around, it seemed that Wybie, Sam, and now Coraline managed to sneak across without a problem. Coraline had joined him in observing the battle without him realizing it, currently looking up at the sky.

Norman nodded. “Yeah.”

Coraline chuckled in disbelief. “Okay, that’s actually pretty cool.”

“What now, Jonesy?” Wybie asked. “I mean, I’m guessing walking over to him and beating him over with you magic stick is out of the question, with that shield trio he’s got around him.”

“I’ve got it covered.”

Dipper’s simple statement made him the center of attention. He sat on the floor, one of the journals open before him, and was in the process of taking out several vials filled with strange-looking powders and liquids out of his backpack.

“You setting up a science lab?” Sam asked, incredulous.

“Kind of.” Dipper lifted the journal, showing off the number ‘2’ on the cover. “Remember this?” He set the journal on the ground again, continuing to take items out of his backpack as he talked. “Each journal has a… theme, almost. Each one focuses on different subjects. The third one was more about creatures and occurrences. This one focuses on spells, runes, and items.” He paused to look up at the others. “Dangerous ones. Ones that you can use to harm people.”

“So, obviously, this is the one that Gideon managed to get his hands on.” Dipper chuckled dryly. “At least we can be grateful that he wasn’t smart enough to figure out even a third of what this journal has in store.”

Coraline eyed him rather warily. “And you did?”

“A bit.” Dipper shrugged. “I only really started when this whole protect-the-world thing began, so I still don’t know a whole lot. But, what I managed to figure out is already pretty nasty. Like what I’m about to make right now.”

“Before you ask,” Dipper flipped through the pages of the journal, stopping at a particular page titled ‘Weaver’s Wrap’, “it’s a snare. A magic snare. With the right ingredients, the proper patterns, and the magic words, this thing can wrap around and squeeze until there’s nothing left.”

Norman’s eyes widened at that revelation. Coraline, Wybie, and Sam had pretty much the same reaction.

“That’s- isn’t that a little extreme?” Wybie asked.

Dipper waved an arm dismissively. “Ah, it takes half a second for me to dispel it. My plan is to use this to immobilize him so we can restrain him in some other way. Like… with Mabel’s grappling hook, probably. Yeah, the grappling hook would do.” He fished out a scrap of white fabric and set it down on the floor before him, before looking up expectantly. “A little help would be nice.”

Coraline eventually shrugged. “Fine. We’re going with Dipper’s evil snare of death. Norman, Wybie.” Coraline gestured towards Dipper.

Norman sat down next to Dipper. Wybie joined them, the apprehension clear in his eyes. Together, they followed Dipper’s orders, even though it soon became clear that Dipper was doing most of the heavy work. Coraline and Sam returned to the window to keep watch outside, though Norman noticed Sam’s eyes flitting between the outside and Dipper’s work, her eyes alight with interest.

Dipper first poured out three pinches of dark-red powder onto the scrap of white fabric, muttering something under his breath that Norman couldn’t make out with each pinch. He then carefully arranged the powder into the shape of a circle with a horizontal line across it. Next, he picked up a vial of blue liquid as well as a pipette, using the pipette to let out a drop of liquid at eight different points around the circle, once again muttering something under his breath with each drop. After that, he held up a vial filled with some sort of gel-like black substance, and smeared the substance on the tip of his pinky finger. Dipper used the black substance to connect the circle to the drops until, Norman realized, the shape on the fabric roughly looked like the shape of a spider. Dipper leaned in towards the fabric, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered something loud enough that Norman could make it out this time.

“Rachni tenaci mortis peterparkrus Frederich Isak Showenhower mirabile serket.”

Dipper leaned back as all the ingredients seemed to seep into the fabric, leaving behind a purple-colored spider symbol on it. Dipper gingerly picked it up between his fingers.

He grinned. “It’s ready.”

Wybie eyed the scrap of fabric nervously, and with good reason. At this point, Norman had to admit, the symbol did give off an aura that, at best, made him feel uncomfortable.

“Still doesn’t explain how we’re gonna get past the shield trio, though.”

Dipper’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. “Those ghosts won’t be an issue. Trust me.”

Dipper hastily shoved his journal and all of the vials back into his backpack, slinging the bag onto his back as he rose to his feet. “I need to find Mabel. This plan won’t work without her grappling hook.” Dipper was already making his way to the diner’s exit. He paused at the doorway to look at Coraline. “Unless…”

“We are not killing him.” Coraline stated with a glare.

Dipper shrugged. “Your call.” Without another word, Dipper darted out into the street. He took his time, going from cover to cover, but Norman still watched with bated breath as Dipper got dangerously close with the battle still brewing in the middle of the intersection. Thankfully, so far neither Freakshow nor his minions seemed to have noticed Dipper’s approach.

Dipper was just about to round the corner to the right, when Norman heard Coraline grimly state, “I think that ghost saw him.”

She pointed at one of the ghosts that’s been chasing after Raz and Lili, who had come to a sudden stop, his line of sight seemingly corresponding with Dipper’s position. Her suspicion was confirmed when that ghost prepared an energy ray and aimed it at Dipper’s direction. Dipper, completely oblivious to the ghost, darted out of cover once again, and at the same time, the ghost released his energy ray. At that moment, it took every ounce of self-restraint in Norman’s body to not scream out Dipper’s name.

A pulse of orange psychic energy suddenly exploded behind Dipper, blasting him forwards by a few feet, the energy ray striking the ground where Dipper once was. His landing was rough, nearly face-first, and he skidded to a stop a few feet later.

Raz stood nearby, a hand outstretched in Dipper’s direction. “Sorry about that!” He yelled out, before a volley of energy rays forced him to keep moving again. “Start running, Dipper!”

Dipper recovered from the tumble quickly enough. However, instead of rising to his feet and running the other way, Dipper scrambled to his knees, his head frantically whipping back and forth. Only upon noticing that a ghost was approaching did he get his feet under him to sprint out of Norman’s line of sight.

Dipper’s odd behavior confused Norman, until he came to a realization. “I think Dipper dropped the snare.”

Coraline must have noticed it too. “Dipper, you goddamn-!” She let out a wordless growl, quickly addressing everyone else. “We need to get that snare. Wybes, Norman, sneak in and find it. Sam and I’ll cover you.”

Norman nodded. “Got it.”

“Can do, Jonesy.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

Coraline twirled the psychic baton in her hand. “Ever played baseball?”

“Like… once?” Sam replied rather hesitantly.

Norman could tell Coraline had to hold back from rolling her eyes. “Just follow my lead.” Taking Sam by the hand, the two made their way out of the diner, pausing for a moment in the doorway to address Norman and Wybie. “When I give you the signal, run like hell.”

The two were out the door before either Norman or Wybie could properly reply. Norman watched them as they took cover behind a smoking wreck of what used to be a car. Sam picked up a brick from among the debris, while Coraline peeked her head out over the wreck. She then took a few steps back, settled into a stance while brandishing her baton with both hands, before giving Sam a nod. Sam threw the brick into the air, and Coraline swung her baton with all her might. The brick sailed through the air towards Freakshow. It actually managed to slip past the ghosts shielding Freakshow, and he had to physically dodge it after noticing at the last second. Coraline and Sam didn’t waste any time, two more bricks already streaking towards Freakshow, though this time both were able to be blocked.

Freakshow glared down at Coraline and Sam, pointing his staff in their direction. Immediately, one of the ghosts that had been pursuing Raz and Lili changed course, now flying towards Coraline and Sam. Coraline had time to send a nod at Norman and Wybie - the signal - before both her and Sam bolted in the other direction, the ghost in hot pursuit.

Norman and Wybie practically scrambled out of the diner’s exit. They stuck to going from cover to cover when they could, but it was an otherwise mad dash to get to where Dipper dropped the snare as fast as they could. Norman considered it a miracle when, as far as he knew, they reached the spot undetected. He had to pause for a moment - the dash left him quite winded - but Wybie was already tossing over bits of debris left and right in an effort to find it.

“God, how are we supposed to find that thing?!” Wybie exclaimed as his eyes scanned the ground. “It’s so tiny!”

Norman looked around the debris-strewn field. Wybie was right; finding that scrap of fabric in the middle of this chaos just with their eyesight was borderline impossible. They needed something more.

“It felt weird.” Norman pointed out after a moment of thought. “Right? It felt… off.”

Norman clenched his eyes shut, focusing hard. With his world gone dark, he felt his presence grew. He didn’t have a lot of practice with this particular ability of his, so it felt unstable and took longer than he would’ve liked, but eventually he spotted that uncomfortable aura again. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping to his left. Wybie followed his gaze. Nearby - roughly twenty-thirty feet away from them - slightly wedged under a pile of rubble, was the scrap of fabric they were looking for. Wybie immediately sprinted towards it.

“Get out of the way!”

That shout came from Lili, rolling towards them on her psychic sphere, a pair of metal sheets levitating behind her, shielding her from a barrage of energy rays that came from a pursuing ghost. Wybie doubled the speed of his sprint, while Norman quickly dived into cover. Wybie rejoined him behind the cover a moment later, just as Lili sped by, some of the stray energy rays whizzing past above their heads.

Norman gave Wybie a frantic, expectant look. Wybie looked down at his clenched fist, before he slowly opened it, revealing the scrap of fabric inside. Norman sighed in relief.

“Alright, how do we use this?” Wybie asked, and Norman’s relief dissipated instantly. “Do we just… throw it? What if we throw it and nothing happens?”

Norman looked around at his surroundings desperately. “We need Dipper.”

Not a moment later, he felt Wybie rapidly tapping his shoulder, before he pointed over to a pile of rubble quite a ways away from the battlefield. Timidly peeking over that pile of rubble were a pair of heads that Norman instantly recognized as Mabel and Dipper. They appeared to be desperately searching the field themselves. Norman waved at them, while Wybie lifted the fabric in his hands just enough so that the twins could see it. Dipper spotted them first, his eyes lighting up. Mabel sent them a thumbs up when she did the same a moment later.

How do we use this? Norman mouthed.

Norman was initially worried he didn’t mouth it clear enough, but Dipper looked like he understood it well enough. He rose out of his cover, both hands cupped around his mouth. There was a moment of hesitation, but Dipper quickly shook his head, before he shouted out loud.

“Etavitca!”

Dipper’s voice rang clear across the street. The dark purple spider symbol on the fabric began to glow. Norman and Wybie shared a look for half a second.

“Throw it now!”

Wybie did, but it was a panicked throw, more out of him not wanting to hold the fabric for any longer. In Norman’s humble opinion, Wybie could have done better.

However, the strength of the throw didn’t seem to matter, as the scrap of fabric came to a sudden dead stop in midair. The glow of the symbol intensified until it consumed the entirety of the piece of fabric. The fabric then unfurled to become a sizable spread of netting that emitted a dark purple glow, before it sped off towards Freakshow at an incredible speed. One of the ghosts shielding Freakshow put himself in the path of the snare, but the snare simply passed through both the makeshift shield he held and the ghost himself like they were nothing. Freakshow was absolutely not prepared, the snare wrapping itself around him extremely tight, leaving his arms trapped against his chest. Peculiarly, the snare somehow completely missed the staff, leaving it untangled from the mess of dark purple netting that encircled Freakshow, though the villain still had an iron grip on it. Freakshow’s expression immediately contorted into one of intense pain, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream.

“Yes!” Came Dipper’s incredibly ecstatic shout, his voice even cracking slightly. “Get the staff! Somebody get the staff!”

Lili was quick to respond. A pink-ish glow surrounded the staff, and Norman could see Freakshow visibly struggling to maintain his grip on it. The ghosts that once shielded Freakshow have now begun an attempt - a rather futile one - to free the villain from the snare. He only managed to hold on to the staff for a few more seconds before it slipped out of his grasp. However, right at that very moment, a ghost shot an energy ray straight at Lili. Acting out of pure reflex, Lili tossed the staff into the air, before rolling out of the way of the ray.

Freakshow’s eyes darted upwards. “Minions!” He managed to choke out. “My staff! Bring back my staff!”

The ghosts who had been trying to free Freakshow immediately chased after the staff. Likewise, up in the sky, the ghosts who had been battling Danny all initiated a nose dive straight towards the staff. Danny was quick to catch on, him and all of his duplicates diving after the ghosts. It was a close race, but the numbers that the ghosts had gave them an advantage, as most of them did everything they could to slow down Danny and his duplicates, leaving the others free to pursue the staff. At the last possible second, just as one of the ghosts was only a moment way from catching the staff, one Danny fired off a desperate green energy ray. The ray found its mark, sending the staff plummeting back towards the ground.

Norman’s eyes widened once he realized where the staff was headed.

He rose to his feet, climbed on top of the cover he once hid behind, and raised his hand, his palm open. The staff landed perfectly in his hand.

Every ghost in the vicinity immediately ceased whatever activities they were doing. They stared ahead blankly; arms limp at their sides, almost as if they entered a dormant state. Freakshow managed to send a glare at Norman, even through the pain he must be experiencing. Norman climbed down from the cover, walking at a steady pace towards Freakshow.

Somewhere from behind Norman, Dipper uttered out the word, “Etavitcaed.”

The snare that entangled Freakshow lost its purple glow, and with it, its tight hold on the villain. Freakshow dropped to his knees, coughing and drawing in ragged, desperate breaths. The sight almost made Norman pity him. Almost.

Amazingly, Freakshow forced himself to rise to his feet, before limping towards Norman with a glare. “That staff… is mine.” He growled.

Norman spotted the distinctive claw of Mabel’s grappling hook sailing above his head to nail Freakshow right between his eyes. As he stumbled back from the impact, the claw became enveloped in an orange glow, before it proceeded to circle the villain a few times, leaving him entangled once again, this time by the trailing cable of the grappling hook. Losing his balance, Freakshow fell on his back, letting out a groan in pain.

Norman walked up to the villain, his gaze meeting Freakshow’s.

“You think that ghosts are not human. That they’re less than human.”

He let that familiar energy flow, all the way to his fingertips.

“I don’t know what made you think that way, but you’re wrong. They’re just as human as the rest of us.”

Freakshow gave him an expression of defiance.

“You naïve child. They are nothing but monsters.”

Norman’s grip on the staff tightened.

“Monster?”

Sparks flowed freely out of the hand that held the staff. The defiant look on Freakshow’s face was gone.

“They were not the ones that abused the confused and distressed souls of people who passed away. If there’s any monster here, it’s you.”

Electric lines danced up and down the staff; it started with one, but then it became a dozen, then three dozen, then five dozen, until the staff was enveloped by it. The handle started to splinter. Cracks formed on the crystal ball. Freakshow’s eyes went wide with fear.

“You’re the fucking monster.”

With one last surge of energy, the staff was shattered into pieces. The crack of thunder could be heard from miles away.

Norman took a few steps back. He breathed in and out deeply, the energy receding from his hands. Freakshow still stared at him with wide eyes.

Within the next minute, Norman managed to reassure all the ghosts, who had broken free of the staff’s control, that Freakshow would pay for everything that he had done. They all dispersed, going off on their own without much fanfare. The Mystery Kids, along with the addition of Danny, Sam, and Tucker, all reconvened, forming a circle around Freakshow. The subdued villain, at this point, had shaken out of his fear-induced paralysis, and now looked up at the gathered group rather sheepishly.

“I… surrender?”

Lili landed a kick on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The next kick was aimed at his head, and that knocked him out cold.

“I know you said it’s not a habit, but it’s really becoming a habit, Lil.” Raz remarked.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t do it.” Lili bit back.

Raz chuckled lightly, before he turned his attention to Danny. “You okay, Danny?”

For the most part, Danny looked relieved, though Norman didn’t miss the fact that, ever since they had gathered here, Danny had stolen wary glances at Norman whenever he thought Norman wasn’t looking. “Oh, yeah, I’m good.” He answered. “Thanks for the assist. That fight would’ve been a lot harder on my own.”

“Oh, it was nothing, really.” Raz shrugged dismissively. “All in a day’s work for us heroes.”

“Right.” Danny looked around at every member of the Mystery Kids. A rather awkward silence settled for a moment. “So… I guess this is where we part ways?”

Coraline was quick to chime in. “Not exactly.”

“See, Danny, kicking this guy’s ass was fun and all, but it’s not the main reason why we’re here.” Raz explained. “We’re mainly here to talk to you.”

Danny looked surprised for a moment, and then he looked curious. “You know what, after seeing what you guys can do… I’m intrigued.” He said. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Well…” Raz glanced around at their surroundings. In what was only seconds ago an empty battlefield, a crowd had begun to gather around them. Some people even had their phones out already.

“First things first, let’s go to someplace more private, yeah?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Do you wanna head to my place, or-?”

“Just follow us.”

The next ten minutes they spent convincing the local police department that, yes, they have the authority to arrest Freakshow - Raz got to flash the new badge around after all, much to his delight - and that the containment facility the Psychonauts had would be far more secure than anything the local police had in their disposal.

“No offense.” Raz added hastily at the end of his explanation.

With a bound and unconscious criminal in tow, they spent the next twenty minutes walking back to where the Mystery Kids had parked their jet. The walk was rather awkward. It was mostly silent, with Danny, Tucker, and Sam - especially Sam - occasionally asking a question. Raz’s answer was always for them to just wait, looking far too pleased to be acting so cryptic. Coraline did approach Norman at one point during the walk.

“Damn, Norman, you were fucking pissed back there. What’s up with that?” She asked.

“I think it’s okay to be angry for the right reason.” Norman replied simply.

When they arrived, the Mystery Kids let Danny, Sam, and Tucker - especially Tucker - to have five minutes to freak out over the fact that they owned a jet. They also used that time to secure Freakshow with some proper restraints, as well as order Agent Danvers to keep a very close eye on him while they have a chat with Danny. They all then sat in a loose circle just outside of the jet, where Raz and Coraline spent the next ten minutes giving Danny and his friends a rough idea of who they were and what they do.

Tucker listened with rapt attention, visibly reacting with awe in some parts. Sam’s reaction was more guarded, but Norman could tell she was warily intrigued. Danny listened in closely as well, though he still stole glances at Norman once in a while. Once Raz and Coraline finished their explanation, a minute passed by in silence, as the three processed the information.

“So…” Danny began, “you guys are like… the Power Rangers?”

Coraline nearly visibly cringed at the comparison. “More like the Avengers.”

“Actually, if we’re going with comparisons, our closest counterpart would be the Teen Titans.” Wybie quickly pointed out. “Just saying.”

“And… you call yourselves the… Mystery Kids?”

Raz smiled proudly. “That’s the name.”

Danny nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Sorry, but, that name is… really generic.”

“Hey, speak for yourself.” Coraline retorted. “Your superhero name is only a few letters off from your real name. It’s honestly a miracle no one managed to figure it out.”

“Excuse me; we’re talking about the coolness of the name here.” Tucker spoke up. “The name ‘Danny Phantom’ is inherently cool.”

Raz shrugged quite awkwardly. “Coraline, to be fair, we didn’t exactly put a lot of effort into the name. It was, like, the third name we came up with.”

“And you’re backed by the government?” Sam asked, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed.

“Not the government. The Psychonauts is an international organization that doesn’t belong to a single country.” Raz explained. “And we’re not ‘backed’ by them. We’re more like… partners.”

Norman could tell Sam had the most suspicions out of the three of them. “Sorry, let me tell you what’s happening from our perspective.” She said. “You guys showed up out of nowhere, you say that you are ‘partners’ with a secret organization of spies that doesn’t abide to any country, and you seriously expect Danny to just join up with you?”

Raz sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Alright, I admit, this whole thing looks a little bit shady, but I promise you, we are nothing like that. We just want to save people and solve mysteries.”

“Danny, come on, you’ve felt firsthand how easy it was to take down Freakshow when we’re all working together.” Raz gestured to everyone with a friendly smile. “Imagine that, but for every fight from now on.”

Danny looked to his left at Tucker, who simply offered him a small shrug, and then to his right at Sam, who gave him a slow head shake. He turned his attention back to Raz. “I’ve already got my own team, right here. We’ve been doing well enough on our own.”

Raz opened his mouth to respond, but Coraline beat him to it. “It won’t be enough.” She said. “Not for long.”

“Are you threatening us?” Sam retorted after a moment.

“I’m warning you.” Coraline met Danny’s gaze. “If you think the Disasteroid is as big as it’s gonna get, think again. Supernatural events are on the rise, and it’s not stopping. Hell, the eight of us have already stopped something bigger than the Disasteroid. Something that you don’t even know about.”

Danny’s brows furrowed in confusion. Both Sam and Tucker looked at each other, bewilderment clear on their expressions. Coraline continued on. “Trust us. We’re better off united than we are separated.”

Raz looked at Coraline with wide eyes, before he scratched his head nervously. “That’s a grim way to put it, but she’s not wrong.” He cleared his throat for a moment. “Of course, if you really don’t want to join, then we’re not going to force you into it.”

“We’re just telling you upfront that not joining is a very, very bad idea. For everyone involved.” Coraline added.

Danny let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Raz, it really sounds like you’re threatening us.”

Norman decided now to speak up. “We’re not. We’re just desperate.” He stated simply. Looking around at the other members of the Mystery Kids, they all shifted in place nervously. “Sure, we’ve been chosen by this big, powerful organization to protect the planet, but we’re still just eight kids.”

After a moment of consideration, Norman decided it’s in everyone’s best interest for him to say the unspoken truth, as much it pained him to say it.

“We are… kind of scared.”

A minutes passed by in silence. Coraline spent that time absentmindedly tugging at her hair. Raz stared down at the ground, his fingers fiddling with the creases of his gloves. Danny and Tucker seemed slightly put off by the sudden shift, but they appeared sympathetic. Sam tried to put on a show of indifference, but Norman didn’t miss the glint of concern in her eyes.

“That’s why we want you to join us.” Norman spoke, breaking the silence. “You’re Danny Phantom. We need you.”

Danny sighed deeply. “Listen, I… if it means leaving my friends behind, I’m not joining any other team. Sorry.”

“Oh my god, why didn’t you lead with that?” Coraline suddenly snapped. “Fine. They’re in.”

Danny blinked. “What?”

“What?” Raz parroted.

Coraline turned towards Raz. “You saw it; they handled themselves pretty well back there. We are looking for new members anyway, so why not?” She shifted her attention to Danny. “Will you join us now?”

“I… uh…” Danny quickly glanced at Sam and Tucker, who looked just as surprised as he was. “Um… see, my sister is kinda part of the team too, so-”

“Great. She’s in.”

Sam chimed in. “Wait, just like that?”

“If his sister is part of your team, then I doubt she can’t handle herself.” Coraline pointed out.

“I, uh… I also have a… cousin.”

Coraline shrugged. “Your cousin’s in.”

“And… um, there’s this other girl, she-”

“Danny, let me save you the trouble.” Coraline cut in. “Everyone that’s a part of your team? Consider them a part of ours.”

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be elite?” Tucker asked, no doubt incredulous of the sudden invitation.

“‘Elite’ sure is a word that Raz used to describe us.” Coraline stared pointedly at Raz. “But, just like what Norman said, we really are kind of desperate.”

Danny spent the next few seconds massaging the side of his head. “God, I… if my entire team can join, that’s good, but I’m gonna have to talk this out with the others. I can’t make this decision on my own.”

“Hey, man, if you need more time to figure this out, we can give you that.” The friendly smile has returned to Raz’s face. “You don’t have to have an answer right this second.”

“Just soon. Preferably.” Coraline quickly added.

The circle soon dispersed after that. Raz approached Danny by himself and gave him a phone number to call whenever he and his friends have reached a decision. With a final salute, Raz jogged back to the jet. The rest of the Mystery Kids, one by one, boarded the jet. Norman was the last one to board, and as he walked up the steps, he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder.

Norman looked back to find himself face to face with Danny.

“Hey, uh, Norman, right?” Danny smiled, and it was an awkward one. To Danny’s credit, there was an effort to make it not look awkward. For anyone else, it might’ve worked, but not to Norman.

“So, I just wanted to say, great work with Freakshow back there. What you did was… it was interesting, very interesting. Just, all around, such a-”

“I noticed, you know. You stealing looks at me when you think I’m not looking.”

Danny froze, his mouth still gaping open. Norman continued calmly.

“Whatever you’re worried about, you can save yourself the stress. No matter what happens, we’re still on the same side.”

Norman continued his climb to the top of the stairs. Before the door closed, he managed to utter out a farewell.

“Until next time, Danny.”

In hindsight, I’m glad I split this into two parts, because fuck me this chapter is long.

A lot of things happening in this two-parter. We get a look of the world at large. Obviously, the meeting between the MK and Danny is the main attraction here. We also get Coraline’s new weapon, Dipper dabbling in some actual magic, and last but certainly not least, a glimpse of the state of Norman’s powers post-Weirdmageddon.

Now, some things to clarify regarding the canon of Danny Phantom; Danny and Sam aren’t in a relationship yet, Dani was adopted by the Fentons, Tucker is not the mayor of Amity Park, and Vlad was not swept away by the Disasteroid. His current whereabouts are unknown.

Thank you so much for reading this incredibly long chapter all the way to the end, and I hope you have a good day today!

#mystery kids #paranorman #danny phantom #psychonauts #gravity falls #coraline #norman babcock #danny fenton #neil downe #sam manson #tucker foley #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #dipper pines #mabel pines #coraline jones #wybie lovat #When You're A Mystery Kid

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wh6res · 4 years ago

Text

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

#nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #nct scenarios #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin smut #jeno smut

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years ago

Text

Facebook thrives on criticism of "disinformation"

The mainstream critique of Facebook is surprisingly compatible with Facebook’s own narrative about its products. FB critics say that the company’s machine learning and data-gathering slides disinformation past users’ critical faculties, poisoning their minds.

Meanwhile, Facebook itself tells advertisers that it can use data and machine learning to slide past users’ critical faculties, convincing them to buy stuff.

In other words, the mainline of Facebook critics start from the presumption that FB is a really good product and that advertisers are definitely getting their money’s worth when they shower billions on the company.

Which is weird, because these same critics (rightfully) point out that Facebook lies all the time, about everything. It would be bizarre if the only time FB was telling the truth was when it was boasting about how valuable its ad-tech is.

Facebook has a conflicted relationship with this critique. I’m sure they’d rather not be characterized as a brainwashing system that turns good people into monsters, but not when the choice is between “brainwashers” and “con-artists selling garbage to credulous ad execs.”

As FB investor and board member Peter Thiel puts it: “I’d rather be seen as evil than incompetent.” In other words, the important word in “evil genius” is “genius,” not “evil.”

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1440312271511568393

The accord of tech critics and techbros gives rise to a curious hybrid, aptly named by Maria Farrell: the Prodigal Techbro.

A prodigal techbro is a self-styled wizard of machine-learning/surveillance mind control who has see the error of his ways.

https://crookedtimber.org/2020/09/23/story-ate-the-world-im-biting-back/

This high-tech sorcerer doesn’t disclaim his magical powers — rather, he pledges to use them for good, to fight the evil sorcerers who invented a mind-control ray to sell your nephew a fidget-spinner, then let Robert Mercer hijack it to turn your uncle into a Qanon racist.

There’s a great name for this critique, criticism that takes its subjects’ claims to genius at face value: criti-hype, coined by Lee Vinsel, describing a discourse that turns critics into “the professional concern trolls of technoculture.”

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

The thing is, Facebook really is terrible — but not because it uses machine learning to brainwash boomers into iodine-guzzling Qnuts. And likewise, there really is a problem with conspiratorial, racist, science-denying, epistemologically chaotic conspiratorialism.

Addressing that problem requires that we understand the direction of the causal arrow — that we understand whether Facebook is the cause or the effect of the crisis, and what role it plays.

“Facebook wizards turned boomers into orcs” is a comforting tale, in that it implies that we need merely to fix Facebook and the orcs will turn back into our cuddly grandparents and get their shots. The reality is a lot gnarlier and, sadly, less comforting.

There’s been a lot written about Facebook’s sell-job to advertisers, but less about the concern over “disinformation.” In a new, excellent longread for Harpers, Joe Bernstein makes the connection between the two:

https://harpers.org/archive/2021/09/bad-news-selling-the-story-of-disinformation/

Fundamentally: if we question whether Facebook ads work, we should also question whether the disinformation campaigns that run amok on the platform are any more effective.

Bernstein starts by reminding us of the ad industry’s one indisputable claim to persuasive powers: ad salespeople are really good at convincing ad buyers that ads work.

Think of department store magnate John Wanamaker’s lament that “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” Whoever convinced him that he was only wasting half his ad spend was a true virtuoso of the con.

As Tim Hwang documents brilliantly in his 2020 pamphlet “Subprime Attention Crisis,” ad-tech is even griftier than the traditional ad industry. Ad-tech companies charge advertisers for ads that are never served, or never rendered, or never seen.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

They rig ad auctions, fake their reach numbers, fake their conversions (they also lie to publishers about how much they’ve taken in for serving ads on their pages and short change them by millions).

Bernstein cites Hwang’s work, and says, essentially, shouldn’t this apply to “disinformation?”

If ads don’t work well, then maybe political ads don’t work well. And if regular ads are a swamp of fraudulently inflated reach numbers, wouldn’t that be true of political ads?

Bernstein talks about the history of ads as a political tool, starting with Eisenhower’s 1952 “Answers America” campaign, designed and executed at great expense by Madison Ave giants Ted Bates.

Hannah Arendt, whom no one can accuse of being soft on the consequences of propaganda, was skeptical of this kind of enterprise: “The psychological premise of human manipulability has become one of the chief wares that are sold on the market of common and learned opinion.”

The ad industry ran an ambitious campaign to give scientific credibility to its products. As Jacques Ellul wrote in 1962, propagandists were engaged in “the increasing attempt to control its use, measure its results, define its effects.”

Appropriating the jargon of behavioral scientists let ad execs “assert audiences, like workers in a Taylorized workplace, need not be persuaded through reason, but could be trained through repetition to adopt the new consumption habits desired by the sellers.” -Zoe Sherman

These “scientific ads” had their own criti-hype attackers, like Vance “Hidden Persuaders” Packard, who admitted that “researchers were sometimes prone to oversell themselves — or in a sense to exploit the exploiters.”

Packard cites Yale’s John Dollard, a scientific ad consultant, who accused his colleagues of promising advertisers “a mild form of omnipotence,” which was “well received.”

Today’s scientific persuaders aren’t in a much better place than Dollard or Packard. Despite all the talk of political disinformation’s reach, a 2017 study found “sharing articles from fake news domains was a rare activity” affecting <10% of users.

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586

So, how harmful is this? One study estimates “if one fake news article were about as persuasive as one TV campaign ad, the fake news in our database would have changed vote shares by an amount on the order of hundredths of a percentage point.”

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.31.2.211

Now, all that said, American politics certainly feel and act differently today than in years previous. The key question: “is social media creating new types of people, or simply revealing long-obscured types of people to a segment of the public unaccustomed to seeing them?”

After all, American politics has always had its “paranoid style,” and the American right has always had a sizable tendency towards unhinged conspiratorialism, from the John Birch Society to Goldwater Republicans.

Social media may not be making more of these yahoos, but rather, making them visible to the wider world, and to each other, allowing them to make common cause and mobilize their adherents (say, to carry tiki torches through Charlottesville in Nazi cosplay).

If that’s true, then elite calls to “fight disinformation” are unlikely to do much, except possibly inflaming things. If “disinformation” is really people finding each other (not infecting each other) labelling their posts as “disinformation” won’t change their minds.

Worse, plans like the Biden admin’s National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism lump 1/6 insurrectionists in with anti-pipeline activists, racial justice campaigners, and animal rights groups.

Whatever new powers we hand over to fight disinformation will be felt most by people without deep-pocketed backers who’ll foot the bill for crack lawyers.

Here’s the key to Bernstein’s argument: “One reason to grant Silicon Valley’s assumptions about our mechanistic persuadability is that it prevents us from thinking too hard about the role we play in taking up and believing the things we want to believe. It turns a huge question about the nature of democracy in the digital age — what if the people believe crazy things, and now everyone knows it? — into a technocratic negotiation between tech companies, media companies, think tanks, and universities.”

I want to “Yes, and” that.

My 2020 book How To Destroy Surveillance Capitalism doesn’t dismiss the idea that conspiratorialism is on the rise, nor that tech companies are playing a key role in that rise — but without engaging in criti-hype.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

In my book, I propose that conspiratorialism isn’t a crisis of what people believe so much as how they arrive at their beliefs — it’s an “epistemological crisis.”

We live in a complex society plagued by high-stakes questions none of us can answer on our own.

Do vaccines work? Is oxycontin addictive? Should I wear a mask? Can we fight covid by sanitizing surfaces? Will distance ed make my kind an ignoramus? Should I fly in a 737 Max?

Even if you have the background to answer one of these questions, no one can answer all of them.

Instead, we have a process: neutral expert agencies use truth-seeking procedures to sort of competing claims, showing their work and recusing themselves when they have conflicts, and revising their conclusions in light of new evidence.

It’s pretty clear that this process is breaking down. As companies (led by the tech industry) merge with one another to form monopolies, they hijack their regulators and turn truth-seeking into an auction, where shareholder preferences trump evidence.

This perversion of truth has consequences — take the FDA’s willingness to accept the expensively manufactured evidence of Oxycontin’s safety, a corrupt act that kickstarted the opioid epidemic, which has killed 800,000 Americans to date.

If the best argument for vaccine safety and efficacy is “We used the same process and experts as pronounced judgement on Oxy” then it’s not unreasonable to be skeptical — especially if you’re still coping with the trauma of lost loved ones.

As Anna Merlan writes in her excellent Republic of Lies, conspiratorialism feeds on distrust and trauma, and we’ve got plenty of legitimate reasons to experience both.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

Tech was an early adopter of monopolistic tactics — the Apple ][+ went on sale the same year Ronald Reagan hit the campaign trail, and the industry’s growth tracked perfectly with the dismantling of antitrust enforcement over the past 40 years.

What’s more, while tech may not persuade people, it is indisputably good at finding them. If you’re an advertiser looking for people who recently looked at fridge reviews, tech finds them for you. If you’re a boomer looking for your old high school chums, it’ll do that too.

Seen in that light, “online radicalization” stops looking like the result of mind control, instead showing itself to be a kind of homecoming — finding the people who share your interests, a common online experience we can all relate to.

I found out about Bernstein’s article from the Techdirt podcast, where he had a fascinating discussion with host Mike Masnick.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20210928/12593747652/techdirt-podcast-episode-299-misinformation-about-disinformation.shtml

Towards the end of that discussion, they talked about FB’s Project Amplify, in which the company tweaked its news algorithm to uprank positive stories about Facebook, including stories its own PR department wrote.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/22/kropotkin-graeber/#zuckerveganism

Project Amplify is part of a larger, aggressive image-control effort by the company, which has included shuttering internal transparency portals, providing bad data to researchers, and suing independent auditors who tracked its promises.

I’d always assumed that this truth-suppression and wanton fraud was about hiding how bad the platform’s disinformation problem was.

But listening to Masnick and Bernstein, I suddenly realized there was another explanation.

Maybe Facebook’s aggressive suppression of accurate assessments of disinformation on its platform are driven by a desire to hide how expensive (and profitable) political advertising it depends on is pretty useless.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_(41793470192).jpg

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years ago

Text

Civil War (Chapter Four)

Summary: In the aftermath of the U.N. bombing, (Y/N) receives a call from Steve and is ‘invited’ to the Joint Counter Terrorism Centre in Berlin for questioning.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I’m not too sure about this chapter, it’s all over the place and I’ve rewritten it twice so I can’t tell if it’s good or not lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

While the paramedics finished fastening the bandage around her head, (Y/N) sat in the back of the ambulance and silently watched the chaos unfolding. A fire crew was busy hosing down the still-smoldering ruins and a medical helicopter flew overhead as different government agencies began setting up their base camps on the outskirts of the caution tape. The CIA agent who’d questioned her about the incident had informed her that a large-scale bomb had gone off next to their building, injuring over seventy people and killing twelve; she’d gone on to explain to her that if not for T’Challa’s last-minute warning, many more people would’ve perished in the blast.

Poor T’Challa, (Y/N) thought to herself with a pang of sadness. His father, King T’Chaka, had been the closest person to the blast and was killed instantly. The paramedics completed their work and she thanked them before quickly getting out of their way, knowing that there were many others who still needed to be helped. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her ash-covered blazer, she walked along the edge of the crime scene towards where she’d last seen Natasha and T’Challa; different international news reporters were documenting the tragedy and as she passed by one of them, their words almost made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous Hydra agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations…”

(Y/N) continued walking, afraid that she’d be recognized if she lingered too long, and finally sat down on an empty bench near the CIA’s base camp. Once she got over the initial shock of learning the suspected identity of the bomber, she couldn’t help but feel confused; Bucky had been on the run for over two years, ever since the Battle at the Triskellion and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., and there hadn’t been any sign of him since. Steve and Sam had tracked down every single lead they could find but to no avail. To her, it didn’t make much sense that after all that time, the wanted man would suddenly decide to do something as massive as bomb the United Nations.

The buzzing of her cell phone in her pocket jolted her out of her thoughts; pulling it out and glancing down at the screen, her eyes widened in recognition and she was quick to answer it. “Hello?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Um…yeah, a little. My right eardrum ruptured from the noise of the blast and my lungs feel like crap, but other than that I’m okay…” She trailed off, listening as Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief. Try as she might, memories of their recent fight came to mind but she forced aside her irritation with him as she continued. “Listen Steve, I just heard about Bucky and I-”

“You’re gonna tell me the same thing Nat did: to leave it up to the Task Force and stay home.”

She blinked, taken aback by the shortness of his tone. “Well, I think she has a point about staying out of it but what I was actually going to say is that-”

“I’m the only one who can bring him in alive, (Y/N), so that’s what I’m gonna do. I just wanted to call and tell you myself so that you didn’t believe I was hiding things from you.” Steve abruptly interrupted and after a moment of tense silence, the hard edge in his voice softened a little. “Look, I’m…take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay? Don’t forget to change that bandage of yours every few hours.”

The call disconnected as (Y/N)’s head snapped up in shock and she hurriedly scanned her surroundings, but the super-soldier was nowhere to be seen. “Bastard.”

“(Y/N)!” She looked over in time to see Natasha striding over to her, her brow furrowed in worry. “(Y/N), I just got a call from Steve a few minutes ago, and-” The spy stopped herself short as she examined her assumedly-angered expression. “I take it you got one, too.”

“Yep, and I’d rather not discuss it right now if that’s okay.”

Natasha nodded. “Fine by me, hot-shot, but we should be going; our presence has been…um, requested in Berlin. At the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, to be precise.”

Frowning, (Y/N) stood and walked alongside her. “Our? What’s all this got to do with me?” The spy gave her a pointed look and she exhaled through her nose. “Ah, yes, my ‘association’ with Steve Rogers. They’ve guessed that he’d be the first one after Bucky and since I’m his fiancé, they want to hold me for questioning.”

“Pretty much…but there’s another reason that I’ll let Tony tell you about himself when we arrive. It was his bad idea, after all.”

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

By that point, (Y/N) was well and truly sick of flying; they’d taken the Quinjet to the Berlin-Tegel Airport, where a car had picked them up and drove them to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. If her head hadn’t hurt so much and she were in a better mood, she would’ve taken the time to admire all the historical landmarks they passed by. And here I thought that week we spent dealing with Ultron was exhausting, she thought with a humorless smile, getting out of the car and walking alongside Natasha as they entered the parking garage’s elevator.

“When you’re questioned by an agent, be sure to answer as honestly as possible.” (Y/N) glanced up from her dirty sneakers and met Natasha’s serious expression. “Cooperation’s the only thing that’s gonna help Steve and Sam out right now, (Y/N). Don’t let the agent get inside your head, though; make sure that you’re the one in control of the situation, just like I’ve taught you. If I know them like I think I do, they’re gonna try and get more valuable intel out of you than just Steve’s whereabouts.”

She nodded after a brief moment of hesitation and the spy’s shoulders relaxed a little. The elevator stopped at the top floor and its doors slid open to reveal two men; one was Tony Stark, dressed stylishly in a dark-grey suit with a tense smile on his face and the other was an older man with salt-and-pepper colored hair that she didn’t recognize. The stranger stepped forward and shook Natasha’s outstretched hand. “Miss Romanoff, thank you for coming in so quickly.”

“Of course,” Natasha replied before glancing over at (Y/N). “(Y/N), this is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander of the CIA. Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Agent Ross smiled and shook her hand, but (Y/N) got the distinct feeling that he was studying her expression and analyzing her behaviors. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Miss (Y/L/N); my niece and nephew are big fans of your novel.”

(Y/N) murmured her thanks and followed the trio as they walked down a covered sky-way, not noticing that Tony had fallen into step beside her until he quietly asked, “How’re you holdin’ up, Austen?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve had better days.” She remarked, glancing over at the billionaire with a raised brow. “Nat mentioned something about a bad idea you wanted to run by me?”

“Oh, I have a couple of ‘em, but I’ll let you get changed before I go ahead and tell you. When I heard about the bombing, I figured that you and Romanoff would need clothes so I packed some before I left the compound.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, (Y/N) allowed him to lead her to a private bathroom and quickly changed out of her soot-covered clothing; she felt a little bit like her usual self as she emerged from the bathroom, but the comforting feeling her change of clothes had inspired soon disappeared when the billionaire ushered her into a glass-walled conference room in the middle of what she imagined was a control room.

“Sorry if it seems like we’re sitting inside a fish bowl but this is the only place where we can talk without being overheard.” Tony sat down across from her at the long table, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’m sorry about the civilian consultant thing, Austen. We all found out about it last night when Secretary Ross called to ask who’d decided to sign; he seemed crankier than usual when we told him that we didn’t know what you’d decided to do.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and leaned her elbow onto the table, resting her head in her hand with an exasperated sigh. “What, does Ross think that if I sign then that’ll make Steve suddenly change his mind and decide to sign too?”

“Pretty much…but truth be told, he’s not the only one.” Her brow rose in surprise as Tony sat forward in his chair, an uncharacteristically subdued expression on his face. “Look, (Y/N), none of us wants to see Rogers gone. The team needs him and we both know how much he needs the team, so…I was hoping that if you signed, you’d be able to convince him that he’d be doing the right thing by signing too. Once Rogers signs them, then Wilson and Maximoff should follow suit and we’d have our Earth’s Mightiest Heroes all back together again in no time. What do you think?”

“You make it sound so easy…and I wish it was, Tony. I really do.” She stood and walked over to the glass wall, her eyes trained on a large computer monitor that bore her fiancé’s photograph on a wanted poster. “But you and I also know that once Steve’s made up his mind about something it’s impossible to change it. I tried telling him that refusing to sign might put our future together in jeopardy, and do you know what he said?” Turning back around, she met the billionaire’s gaze and mirthlessly smiled. “He said that he couldn’t afford to be selfish and he left it at that.” A lump formed in her throat as she blinked away her tears and shrugged. “He respects the hell out of you, Tony, so maybe you’ll have a better change at convincing him. I’ll be there when you do, but…since I haven’t decided what I’ll do yet, I honestly don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

Just as Tony opened his mouth to reply, the glass door of the conference room slid open and none other than Sharon Carter poked her head into the room. “If you’re ready, Agent Ross would like to ask you some questions.” (Y/N) stood and spared Tony a final glance before following the agent down the hall, pointedly ignoring the jealous pang in the pit of her stomach as she did. “Romanoff mentioned that you weren’t much of a coffee drinker, so I brought you some hot chocolate instead.” She looked over to see Sharon holding out a to-go cup out towards her, a hesitant but friendly sort of smile on her face. “Might help settle your nerves before your talk with Ross.”

She accepted the beverage with a murmur of thanks and took a sip as they continued down the hall; giving the agent a sideways glance, she cleared her throat before saying, “I’m sorry about your aunt, Sharon.”

“Thank you…and thank you for everything you said in your eulogy. Actually,” Sharon stopped beside the stairwell door and gestured towards it. “We don’t have much time, but do you mind if we talk for a quick sec?” (Y/N)’s brow furrowed a little but she nodded and followed her into the stairwell, watching as she leaned back against the wall and shuffled her feet. “You meant a lot to Aunt Peggy, (Y/N), but I don’t think you know just how much she appreciated you. Back before her dementia got worse, she’d call me after her visits with Rogers and we’d talk for hours; she worried about him, always telling me that he was deliberately keeping himself from embracing his new life and that there wasn’t anything she could do to help. But then you came into his life and from what she told me, it was a night and day difference; knowing that you were there for Steve, as a friend and then as something more, gave her piece of mind. She really liked you, (Y/N), and she really respected you. I just thought that you should know that.”

“Thank you, Sharon, that…that really means a lot to me.”

The agent nodded, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. “I would’ve told you all that after the funeral but you and Steve were sort of…well, you know…arguing. I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, it’s just that you both were kind of loud and the cathedral has crazy-good acoustics.” (Y/N) started to reply but Sharon cut her off with a firm head shake. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, (Y/N). I’m not exactly a fan of the Accords but just between us? I think that Steve was out of line back there.” Unsure of what to say, she nodded once and took another sip of her drink as the agent looked down at her wristwatch. “C’mon, we should get going before Ross starts looking for us.”

The two of them left the stairwell and continued down the hallway to an office; Agent Ross was seated at a desk and reading through a file, looking up from his work with a friendly smile. “Thank you, Agent 13, that’ll be all.” With one last glance, Sharon turned and left them alone. “Please, take a seat.” (Y/N) sat down in the chair across from him and crossed her leg over her knee, trying her best to remain cool and collected. “Miss (Y/L/N), we have reason to believe that Captain Rogers plans on interfering with the apprehending of the Winter Soldier; can you tell me when you last spoke to your fiancé?”

“A little over three hours ago in Vienna. He called to ask if I’d been injured during the bombing and then he warned me that he was planning on bringing in Bucky himself. That’s all he said.”

Ross nodded and gestured to the bandage wrapped around her head. “And are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s only a ruptured eardrum; the bandage is just keeping the ear from becoming infected.” (Y/N) shrugged, taking another sip of her drink before setting it down on the desk. “Truth be told, I’ve had worse.”

Nodding again, the agent picked up the open file on his desk and scanned its contents. “Yeah, it seems like you have. In March of 2014, you suffered a moderate-grade concussion, GSW on your left thigh and a severe muscle contusion on the other thigh; it also says here that you even needed an emergency blood transfusion upon arrival at the hospital.” He looked back up at her with an arched brow. “Sounds like a lot for a civilian to go through.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise. “I-it was-”

“And according to witness statements from the Avengers, the Artificial Intelligence known as Ultron targeted you last year because of your close relationship with Steve Rogers, is that correct?” Nodding, she struggled to keep her expression neutral as her fingers began reflexively tracing along her old gunshot wound. “It looks like you were just a pawn in Ultron’s plan to break the Avengers apart, and it very nearly worked.”

Her first instinct was to snap at the agent but after recalling Natasha’s earlier warning, she swallowed her frustration and gave him a fleeting smile. “The CIA certainly cares a lot about historical fiction novelists, doesn’t it?”

Ross chuckled and leaned forward in his seat. “Only the ones engaged to rogue super-soldiers, of course. Speaking of super-soldiers, can you elaborate on the nature of your fiancé’s connection to James Barnes?”

“There’s nothing much to say that hasn’t already been said; Steve and Bucky were childhood friends who fought together during World War II and when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, Steve and Sam tried searching for Bucky but they never found him.”

Nodding, the agent reached over and moved his computer monitor to face her; on the screen was a blurry image of a man wearing dark clothing, obviously taken from grainy security camera footage. “And is this James Barnes?”

“Yes, although I’ve only seen him in person once and this photo’s a little blurry.”

“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight: Steve’s old pal bombs the U.N. meeting that you, his fiancée, was attending and instead of rushing to your side like any other partner would do, he decides to leave the country to apprehend Barnes himself. Does that pretty much sum things up?” (Y/N)’s jaw clenched tightly and she stared silently at the agent in front of her, who tilted his head to the side as he considered her. “You see, the CIA knows that you and Captain Rogers are close but what we don’t know is how far you’d go to protect a man who doesn’t sound like he’s got your best interests at heart.”

Before (Y/N) could finally lose her temper, another agent poked his head into the office. “I’m sorry, Agent Ross, I know you said that you didn’t want to be disturbed but this is urgent.”

“Fine, fine…”

Ross stood and followed the agent out into the hallway, leaving the office door cracked open just far enough for her to make out some of what they were saying. “Rhodes…all of them arrested…Bucharest…ETA in less than six…”

Thank goodness they’re all right, (Y/N) thought as relief washed over her, they’ll both be charged with obstruction of justice but at least they’re alive. Some of her elation disappeared as her mind drifted back to Agent Ross’ line of questioning; Natasha was right, the CIA was taking the golden opportunity to get intel on Captain America with the knowledge that what they were doing was protected under the Sokovia Accords. The thought of being manipulated and used that way infuriated her but what angered her more was that this all stemmed from Steve’s unwillingness to consider the consequences of not signing the Accords. You’re in control here, she told herself with a calming breath, just do everything Nat told you to do and you’ll be okay…

Agent Ross reentered the office and sat back down with an expectant smile on his face. “Well, now, where were we?”

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A/N: This story’s a little more challenging to write than The Winter Soldier or Age of Ultron, there’s so much angst to deal with and writing these chapters really takes a lot out of me, so any likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated ❤️

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, you guys are truly amazing! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=f5f309da80a74a63

Chapter Five

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @aesthethickks

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