#i would just like to share that i was also fighting VERY violent hiccups while writing this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hnychn · 4 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈]

summary : levi wanted to believe the Fates were kind, but he should have known better

warnings : character death, heavy loss, a single mention of suicide, more greek myth allusions, fem! reader

word count : 3000+

a/n : omgomgomg tysm @yeehawslap for giving me permission to write this, i swear when i read their post i was immediately inspired to write this and i'm so sorry to your feelings :') also i swear i changed the title of this like, ten times

attack on titan masterlist || navigation

The Fates had dealt Levi a rough life.

When the goddess Clotho had spun the thread of his life, she must have incorporated thorns into every string; even now Levi could feel the pricks of guilt that chipped away at his soul each time he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and faced the bloodied scout patches of the lives lost..

Lachesis had enforced his life; she had been the one to use his thread to create. Although, Levi must admit, the fates must have favored him a tiny bit if they had sent you to him. You, his lovely wife whom he met one late evening under the stars, a gash on his head and gauze in your hand ready for you to patch up.

You had been there to take out every thorn in his thread Clotho had stuck in his life; every ounce of guilt, every second of regret had been a burden on his shoulders you relieved by simply being there.

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad.

They must have been even just an ounce of virtuous if they had allowed him to call you his forever. The fates had strung together a love story into his thread of life and allowed him to invite someone into the most intimate parts of him, allow him to find peace within someone; to create a life together.

Levi could remember the day when you burst into his office, a smile so bright he was sure even the sun was envious of the warmth you radiated. No words were spoken as you pulled him into your arms and cried.

It was only through hiccups and sobs did he hear your soft voice tell him he had created a life. And while your stomach was still as flat as it had been the night before and many nights before that, he pressed his hand against it nonetheless and promised to protect the life within you until his very last breath.

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad.

Isabel, as the two of you named your daughter, had become a nearly carbon copy of her father. not only did she share many features in common with him, she also inherited his strength.

She was able to hold her head up on her own only a mere months after birth, and she often gave you a terrible fright when she climbed out of her crib at night with a strength a toddler shouldn't have. Though, it was of no real surprise to either of you; you were sure your womb must have taken a terrible beating with the strength of her kicks while she was still growing inside of you.

And, with her strength and many similarities with her father, came her desire to join the scouts.

It was the first time in her life Levi had denied her something.

Admittedly, little Isabel had her cold, ruthless captain of a father wrapped around her stubby little finger since the moment you pushed her out of your womb. You could hear the way he promised to give her anything her little heart desired and often you found yourself being more strict with her.

Though, this had been Levi's one fear.

Levi has seen countless people fall beyond the walls. He's witnessed Farlan and Isabel (his daughter's namesake) tragically torn to pieces by those wandering monsters. He’s seen countless bodies piled up in wagons to return to the walls for burning.

You’ve seen your fair share of horrors, too. You’ve seen the injuries people walk into your clinic with, the blood gushing through gaping wounds, their bones snapped in angles they shouldn't, the limbs you've had to amputate; and the sheer image of your daughter being one of them was enough for you to turn green with sickness.

There were countless arguments between Levi and Isabel (you often found yourself the mediator of these fights and cursing the fates for making both father and daughter stubborn as mules). But ultimately, Levi had caved as he always did, and promised to train her harder than anyone else in the training corps.

True to his word, Isabel often returned home with bruises and collapsed next to you on the couch, her head falling into your lap with fatigue. You smiled as you ran your fingers through her hair as she tiredly recounted her training with her father and other members of the Training Corps.

She had recounted many stories of the friends she’s made there; an arrogant boy named Jean who she loved to tease and roughhouse with, a boy with a buzzcut named Connie she liked to mess around with and prank occasionally, and a girl named Sasha.

The dusty pink on her cheeks when she told you stories about her sprouted an inkling inside of you that made you think she was more than just a friend to your daughter. You only smiled as she went on.

Though, late at night, when your husband had long ago fallen asleep and your daughter was tucked safely away in her room, did you find yourself praying to the Fates. You prayed no arm would come to your daughter and she would lead the happy life she deserved. You prayed the Fates were kind.

Perhaps . . . the Fates weren't kind . . .

Levi should have known the fates hadn't meant to give him a life as peaceful as his (or as peaceful as it could be with you and Isabel by his side). He should have known better than to think the Fates were righteous.

Afterall, the goddess Atropos always came to collect what was due. Atropos was the third and final Fate, the goddess who cut the threads her sisters weaved and toyed with. She was the one who claimed souls. Atropos watched time and time again as Levi avoided her attempts to collect his thread and grew frustrated the more he slipped through her fingers like sand. So, Atropos did the next best thing.

She stole a life close to him.

Levi could feel his blood run cold when Jean walked in, his hands fisting the shirts of two children and his eyes wild with shock. His words were shaky and his eyes were covered in a daze of denial, as if his mind was trying to protect him from the inevitable heartbreak he would experience.

Levi waited with a bated breath for Jean to crack a smile and admit this was all some sick joke he could punish him later for. That his whole thing was nothing but a nightmare and he was bak at home, cuddled in bed with you and your daughter was sleeping soundly in her room just down the hall.

But he knew it wasn't a dream, not when you gasped as you did, when he could practically see your heart shattering in your eyes and the way you nearly pushed him to the floor as you ran to the back of the airship. Levi followed close.

"ISABEL!"

You had practically thrown Connie to the side to get to your daughter. Her eyes were hazy with the same veil of death you had seen time and time again with your patients and friends. Sasha stood still to the side, her eyes wide and her hands shaking, “should have been me, it should have been me.” She chanted the words like a spell that would somehow transfer the wound to her, a spell that would miraculously heal your daughter who lay on the cold hard floor of the airship, blood slowly seeping out of her.

The logical medic in your brain delivered you the harsh truth as you assessed your daughter and her wounds. The unforgiving voice hissed in your ear about her inevitable death, the wound is too fatal, there’s no way she’ll make it back to the island. You hushed the voice as quick as it spoke, your heart denying the severity of the situation.

"oh," Levi could only watch as you clutched onto Isabel, your hands working like clockwork as they put pressure on her wound despite the violent shake in them, "oh, my baby..."

Levi took a hesitant step closer. It was haunting, watching his daughter who held so many of his qualities lay on the floor, bleeding to death. He had remembered the many times she pulled his hair as a child, giggling loudly as she pointed out the obvious, ‘I’m just like you, daddy!’

Oh, how he wished he could go back to those moments. When his daughter was nothing but a small child he cradled in his arms, tucking her safely under his chin as he gently rocked her side to side to lully her back into a deep sleep. He wished to go back to the nights he held your hair back as your stomach churned with nausea and your daughter was but a growing fetus, protected within the walls of your womb.

"M . . . mommy . . .” Isabel breathed.

You sobbed harder, "it's okay baby, i'm here, mommy's here."

You ran your fingers through her hair, hushed her and soothing her as you once did many years ago when she was nothing but a small baby clutching onto the material of your dress.

She had been so tiny then, so fragile and sweet and innocent. But she had long since grown out of her baby face and matured into a strong woman you were proud to have nurtured. But in this moment, it was as if she returned to the same fragile baby as she was years ago as she clutched onto the straps of your gear like a lifeline, her eyes dull but full of fear and hesitance.

"Mommy please, i'm- s' scared . . ." her voice was breathy and you could see the energy drain from her eyes the harder she tried to keep them open.

You wanted to be selfish, to tell her to keep her eyes open, to keep breathing and push through the pain. But you could see the pain flash in her eyes each time she took a breath, you could hear her breathy wince with every movement she made, and you knew you couldn’t be selfish.

Levi could see your resolve slowly crumble, the way the shake in your hands grew more and more violent and he could practically see the screams bubble in your throat as you tried to swallow them down to comfort your daughter. Levi knew if he didn't step in now, there would be no salvaging the broken pieces of you after this.

"It’s okay, princess." Levi crouched down on the other side of his daughter, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep his composure.

Her head slowly turned to him, "d-daddy . . . ?"

Levi hummed, "Yeah, it's me princess. It’s okay, you did so well, you were so brave."

"I was?" her words were breathy and rushed as she tried to cling on to the last threads of her life. You could feel her grip in your gear lose its strength and you nearly let the screams clawing at your throat escape.

pleasepleasepleaseplease, you begged, not her please not my baby.

"So brave."

Levi had never felt so helpless watching his daughter's eyes lose their life, he could only sit there and reassure her that everything would be fine and she had done good as she took her last breaths. Images of the other Isabel laying dead on the floor flashed through his mind and Levi nearly vomited.

"I love you"

Levi nodded, "I know. I love you too, princess. Now rest."

The winds howled loudly outside, but there was nothing loud enough to drown out the screams that had finally escaped from you as you gripped your daughter’s hand so tight your knuckles turned white. Levi held you close as tears of his own dripped down his face and an indescribable weight placed itself in his heart.

The Fates were not kind.

Life after that seemed to lose its shine.

Your home was hauntinly quiet. Every inch of the home had memories of your daughter carved into the wooden frame. Her first words, her first steps, her first breath. You had given birth to your daughter in the living room, and where the walls once gave you comfort and warmed your heart with reminders of the first life you had brought into the world, it now made you sick with grief and added to the weight in your heart. She had taken her first steps in the hallways, clutching your fingers tight as you guided her down the hall to Levi who waited for her with a proud smile. Her first words had been in the kitchen, where you and Levi cooked dinner for your quaint little family and she called out to the two of you, begging for attention. And who was Levi to deny his princess?

You and Levi struggled to find your places in the world after that. Late at night, the two of you often clung to each other for comfort. Though, you knew Isabel’s death was hitting Levi harder than you. You could see it in the way he tucked her Scout badge into the left breast pocket of his shirts, hoping to keep the memory of her close to his heart; the way he avoided every mirror like it was the plague. You could see it in the way he flinched whenever he caught sight of his reflection, his own steel grey eyes and matted black hair staring hauntingly back at him.

Isabel had taken after her father the most, afterall.

You also found Levi’s features a bit hard to look at after that. It was hard to look into his eyes and see your daughter staring right back at you with a pleading look to not leave. There had been late night conversations where Levi assured you he knew of his similarities to Isabel and promised to not be mad if you wanted to leave him, 'I find it hard to look at myself sometimes.'

But you only held him tighter and stuck closer to his side, washing away any thoughts he had of you leaving him. You married him because you loved him, and nothing could change that. Even if he looked so similar to your lost daughter.

The Fates also decided to make your lives a bit harder, as if taking away your first born hadn’t been enough suffering to put you both through. Levi had been sent away with Zeke into hiding. Initially, you wanted to go with him, to stick by his side and cling to your life support, but the others hadn’t allowed it.

Hango could only grip your wrist tight as you watched Levi climb into the carriage and ride away.

You begged Hange not to leave you alone after that; because you knew if you were left alone for long enough, there would be nothing stopping you from joining your daughter in the afterlife.

Hange stayed by your side.

You wanted to vomit.

You could feel the sickening churn in your stomach as you stared down at the very girl who had stolen the life from your daughter. The images of your daughter clutching on to you tightly and her scared voice begging you to comfort her rang loud in your ears. Your mouth had dried instantly, any one of the thousand of words rattling in your head stopped by the numbness in your mouth. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many words you wanted to exchange with the girl who had taken your child from you.

You could see Nicolo’s mouth move and his adam's apple bob with every sound he made, but it was all muffled whitenoise as your eyes trained onto the little girl who stared up at you with a look of horror and fear.

“ . . . kill her,” Nicolo’s voice buzzed in your ears.

You hadn’t even realised you took the knife from his hands until you heard Hange speak up from behind you. She begged you to put the knife down, to think rationally.

But how could you? How could your mind think of anything other than harming the girl who was the cause of all your pain? When the girl who murdered your daughter was right in front of you, sitting on her knees, vulnerable. Your heart screamed and thrashed against the veins that held it in place for you to stab her, to make her feel the same pain your baby had to go through.

But then she looked up at you. Her eyes were wide with the same fear and pleading look your daughter had in her final moments. You dropped the knife, your shoulders shaking as your eyes lined with unshed tears.

“Kill a child. . . you- you want me to kill a child. . .” Armin stared at you from the side as your shoulders sagged and a few tears escaped your eyes, and he couldn’t help but realize how tired you looked. As if the weight the world had placed on your shoulders was finally catching up to you and your body struggled to carry it any longer.

“I can’t do that. She’s a child. Someone’s daughter.” You collapsed to the floor, your hands digging to the carpet underneath you, “I can’t kill a child, not while I know what it feels like to lose your own. I can’t put another mother through the same pain I’m in. I just- can’t.”

Hange kneeled next to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line and sympathy swimming in her eyes for her friend who had lost her world. You looked back up to Gabi and she nearly flinched with how broken and tired your eyes looked, “I can only hope she’s found peace in the afterlife. . .

“I can only hope the Goddesses of Fate are kind to her soul.”

#attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #shingenki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi #attack on titan levi #attack on titan levi x reader #angst #mom! reader #parent! reader #husband! levi

172 notes · View notes

bratkook · 5 years ago

Text

clairvoyant. (m) part nine.

masterlist

pairing: jungkook x reader , taehyung x reader

word count: 13k

warnings: lots of crying, mentions of sex, but nothing scandalous happens

author’s note: let me know what you think, i live off feedback and attention no cap lmaoo also this series is almost over and im upset and forcing myself to not drag it on

Jungkook is sat hunched on his bed, his feet dangling in front of him as his eyes focused on the floor. The sound of Taehyung slamming the dorm room shut made him flinch slightly, his body finally relaxing now that his room mate was gone.

He slumped back on the bed, his head nearly missing the wall behind him as he settled back into his sheets. He wiped his sweaty palms on his sweats, shutting his eyes and trying to calm his racing heart.

Taehyung had just chewed his ass out, he had been holding it in after you told him what had happened between you, Jungkook, and his stupid friend. You hadn’t meant to say anything at all but when you and Yoongi made it into your room Taehyung was already waiting there, taking note of your flustered appearance and thats when the questioning commenced. You had tried to play it down but with the way Yoongi looked Taehyung knew whatever happened had hurt you.

For the next few days Taehyung had just given Jungkook the silent treatment, ignoring when Jungkook asked him innocent questions or made small talk. Taehyung was petty, leaving the drawers to Jungkooks desk pulled out so Jungkook would ram his knee into them when he entered the room, not closing their room door fully when he left in the morning so Jungkook would have to decide if he wanted to drown out the noise of the hallway with his pillow or haul himself out of bed to shut it.

The last thing he had done was unplug his phone from the charger, successfully letting his phone die in order for the alarm to not wake him up on time for the class Taehyung knew he shared with you. Luckily Jungkook’s internal alarm had woke him up and that had apparently been the tipping point for Taehyung, his quick words and low jabs coming out and succeeding in wounding him.

Jungkook had never seen Taehyung as scary, or intimidating but the malice in his eyes as he tore him a new one made a fear creep up his spine. Never had he thought Taehyung was a violent man but when he had given him an open ended threat of not wanting to see him near you Jungkook decided that Taehyung was in fact very scary.

All the younger one could do was sit there and take it, refusing to make eye contact and silently praying that he wouldn’t get decked because even though Jungkook was buff he was also completely clueless on how to fight. His muscles were useless and he didn’t think he’d have it in him to even fight back if Taehyung swung first so when Tae stormed out it was a blessing.

A shuddering breath left him and before he knew it he was crying, his hands balling into fists as he felt the hot tears stream down his face. A small whine left his lips as he tried to get himself to stop crying like a fucking child, one of his fists slamming into the mattress beside him.

“Get yourself together.” His voice strained, aggressively wiping at the tears on his face as he sat up in bed again. His chest hiccuping and a few more tears slipping past his lashes. He had been holding that down for a while, not wanting to cry when Taehyung was there & still having some dignity left to not cry in the shower but he couldn’t sit here and act like he was the victim.

Jungkook took a deep inhale before standing up, going to his desk and swiping at his computers trackpad to see the time since his phone was lying dead on the desk. It was 7:30, Taehyung had apparently decided to become a morning person in order to tell him off.

He stared at his screen for another moment, he had half an hour to get ready for your shared class and he was dreading it. He had only seen you once since what happened but thanks to the fact that you had this class twice a week he was going to have to relive it again today. It didn’t help his nerves, seeing you ignore him entirely as you walked past his seat to go up to yours just made him want to fix everything.

Taehyungs threat still rung in his mind but considering that his friends words had been the reason he was in this predicament he decided that if Taehyung wanted to beat his ass then so be it.

He had made peace with the possibility of getting jumped by Taehyung, and possibly Yoongi as well because he seemed like the type to fight to kill if his friends needed him too.

He could feel the dark cloud of dread creeping up on him as he approached the cafe he had been avoiding, he had to suck it up and face it in order to do what he wanted. The cafe door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as he pulled it open, the warmth of the building hitting his face, the smell of coffee making him realize how much he missed his morning cup.

Jungkook patiently waited in line, his eyes peeking behind the counter and thanking whoever was responsible for Jisoo not being on the clock. He ordered himself his typical americano, ordering your drink of choice as well, an iced coffee with white mocha and half and half, something he used to get you on the regular, before making his way to class.

His phone was still lying on his desk, charging this time, so he hoped he was early enough to class to be able to leave your drink without having to actually talk to you.

When he makes it past the students huddled around the door his eyes scan the upper row, sighing in relief when he doesn’t spot you in your seat. Jungkook sets his cup and backpack down at his desk, going up the steps until he reaches the last row. Jackson is sat at his seat next to yours, a very confused look on his face when he sees Jungkook approaching.

“Sorry dude, seats taken.” His reaches over, spreading his palm over the expanse of the desk top.

Jungkook hesitates as he holds the iced coffee, “Oh, yeah I know. This–uh, this is for Y/N.” Jackson relaxes at that, his hand coming back to rest on his own desk and a smile on his face, “Damn, I don’t get one too?”

Once again Jungkook blanks and his classmate takes pity on him, letting out a laugh, “I’m just teasing you. I’ll let her know you left it.”

“Okay.” He sighs, rolling his lips together as he sets the drink down, “I’ll just, uh, leave this here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, nervously skipping down the stairs and sliding into his seat, his head immediately downcast and focusing on the shiny surface of his desk.

When you walk in its like he can sense it, his body tensing up, desperately wishing he had his phone so he could fiddle with it and not look as nervous as he feels. He spares a glance up at you when you pass his seat, seeing you with an oversized university hoodie and your hair in its natural state, your attention very clearly not on him.

As you walk up the steps you spot the iced coffee on your desk, smiling when you slide into your seat and turning towards Jackson, “Did you buy me this?”

Your hands grasp the cup, stirring the straw to properly mix the half and half into your drink and thats when you spot the black scribbling on the side. Jungkook being the name scrawled into your cup and you freeze.

“You wish I bought you coffee.” Jackson jokes, “Freshman dude got it for you.” He points down at Jungkook and he can feel the back of his head burning from the attention. This was a bad idea, why did he do this?

Your heart betrays you as it swells in your chest but you’re stronger than this, only letting yourself take a tiny sip, okay a gulp, before getting up from your seat. The ice in your drink rattles together as you clench it on your way down the steps, the class is filling up but the professor hasn’t walked in yet so you don’t draw attention to yourself.

Jungkook holds his breath when he hears your shoes against the floor, seeing you appear from the corner of his eye and he thinks you’re gonna talk to him but you keep walking until you’re stood by the teachers desk, right in front of him.

Thats when he properly looks up, his eyes widening when he sees you staring straight at him until you look down at the trashcan by the desk and drop your drink into there with a wet thunk. Your eyes meet his again and see the clear sadness in them, but again you’re stronger than this. A fucking iced coffee is not going to be his method to fix this, he had hurt you and if he wanted to make amends he was gonna have to try harder than this.

Jungkook crumbles under your stare, choosing to focus on his hands fidgeting on top of his desk as you went back to your seat.

Jackson sat there slack jawed, turning to you with wide eyes when you sat back down, “I fucking knew you had it out for him, you still sure you don’t want me to set him straight?”

Jungkook hears that too, sinking further into his seat and thanking his luck that the professor chooses now to walk in, saving him from having to hear an answer to Jacksons question.

The rest of your day continues without a hitch, the practice exercises you had to do in your lighting studio class taking up your brain and letting you forget about the coffee dumping incident of this morning.

You exit your building and your hair gets swept up by the cold wind, your hands wrapping around it and holding it down. Taehyung spots you rewrapping your scarf and pushes off the building he was resting on, he was absolutely freezing as he waited for your final class of the day to end but he had grown to like seeing you at this hour. He approaches you, his smile hidden behind his own scarf but the way his eyes crinkle up let you know he’s grinning at your struggle.

When he reaches out and grabs the ends of the scarf you give up, letting him wrap the material around your neck twice until its fully protected from the cold air.

“Thanks.” You mumble out, accepting the kiss he gives you and smiling when he lifts up the edge of the scarf to cover your lips.

“You’re welcome, how was class?”

He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pack of hand warmers, giving you one that you clutch onto as he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for extra warmth.

“Good, every time I leave this class my love for natural lighting grows. I fucking hate soft boxes, like I get it, totally essential or whatever but nothing and I mean nothing will ever top the beauty of golden hour.”

Taehyung chuckles at your mini rant, another smile spreading across his face when you wrap both hands around his waist and give him a gentle squeeze. The position has you both waddling awkwardly towards your building but he doesn’t care.

You had yet to clarify what your feelings meant but Taehyung didn’t care, he was a patient man, especially when it came to you. He had told you how he felt and now the ball was in your court, whatever you chose to do with that information was okay with him but with the way you’re holding onto him like you don’t wanna let go, you don’t blame him for hoping you want the same as him.

“Golden hours when the suns kinda setting and everything is like glowing almost right?”

You hum against him, your chin resting on his chest as you look up at him and smile, “Yes, exactly right. The prettiest almost magical portraits come from that lighting.”

He grins right back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Teach me how to take photos one day, I wanna take a pretty almost magical portrait of you to make it my lock screen.”

He had been saying things like that often now and it just made you blush, not used to hearing Taehyung say such mushy cute things, the cute things you were accustomed to him saying was him calling you a twinkie as he stared at his cum leak out of you. It definitely took some getting used to, for sure.

“Sure, maybe you can replace the canvas of your ass with a picture of me instead.”

He laughs loudly as he remembers something, “I just might, Namjoon finally told me I had to cover up my ass or take it down because one of the students complained when he saw it one day. I currently have some post it notes over my butt cheeks as a compromise. I’m sure a photo of you would be nicer to stare at too it’ll give Jungkook a nice reminder to back off.”

You separate from him as you both enter your building, waving at Joy and entering your elevator, his hands being quick to grasp yours almost as if he just needed to keep touching you. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat awkwardly, leading the way out of the elevator and towards your room, “I kinda...went off on him this morning?”

You gasp at him as you open up your door, waving at Wendy as you both step inside and start taking off your scarves and coats, “Taehyung, why?”

He gives you an innocent shrug, getting comfy on your bed and patting the space beside him so you can snuggle up, which you immediately do, “Im sorry, I was pissed okay. Theres no excuse for what him or his friends did and he has to know that acting like that is gonna get him his ass handed to him one day.”

The groan you let out just makes him laugh, especially when you bury your head on his chest. He wraps his arms around you, fingers raking through your hair as his eyes meet Wendys, shes smiling as she works on her laptop and he smiles back at her before looking back down at you when your head peaks up again.

“Is that why he did what he did this morning.” You speak more to yourself but Taehyung frowns, “What did he do?”

“Okay relax,” your hands pat his chest, “he just bought me an ice coffee. Left it on my desk, didn’t say a word to me, I threw it away in front of him though.”

“Did he seriously not get it?”

You sigh as you sit back up, reaching over for your laptop in order to pull up netflix for you guys to watch something, “I’m sure he got it loud and clear now.”

Jungkook had in fact not got it loud and clear. In his defense this was the only thing he could think of doing that didn’t involve going up to you out of class and risking getting jumped, sure Jungkook was dumb but not dumb enough to believe he could take on Taehyung and Yoongi.

He had tried reaching out to you via text message but when his usual blue bubbles had turned green and never stated they were delivered he realized he had officially been blocked. You had also gone ahead and blocked him off your instagram as well, the only way he knew what you were up to was thanks to Eunwoo, the only one of his friends who was sympathizing with him.

So for the time being iced coffee was his way in, his pockets were hurting seeing you continue to toss drink after drink away in the trash but when the third time came around and you didn’t stomp down the steps and Kobe your drink into the trash in front of him he felt like he was making some progress.

Until class is dismissed that is. You were prepared, having all of your things prepacked and ready so when your professor let you go you could bolt right after him.

You had the drink in your hand, the majority of which you had consumed because you were a fiend for caffeine, your bag was thrown over your body haphazardly as you took the steps two at a time to match Jungkook’s pace.

He was halfway out the door when you reached the bottom, chasing after him as he made a sharp turn and continued down the hallway. You probably looked like a psychopath as you hunted down a giant freshman but you didn’t care.

He was completely oblivious to you as he exited the building, thinking he could relax when the fresh air met him and thats exactly when you pounce. Your finger coming out to jab him in the arm and he lets out a small yelp, his heart kicking up when he sees you step in front of him and the look on your face is not the one he had been expecting.

You’re breathing heavy from having to practically run after him, the plastic cup being crinkled in your grasp and he stares at it, trying a smile out when he sees that you had drank it.

“Stop this.”

Jungkook looks up at you again, his eyes wide in the classic Jungkook way and you have to look away, instead focusing on the center of his nose to not let his eyes sway you, “I just–“

“I didn’t throw it away today because someone told the professor I was dumping liquid into the trash and I’m not trying to get in trouble because you don’t know how to fucking act.”

Just as he thought he had made progress it all falls apart in front of him and his expression pains you, the look of utter defeat on his face hurts you.

“Im sorry, I’ve tried reaching out but you blocked me on everything.” He says the words so quickly, scared you’re going to cut him off again before he can speak.

“Of course I did Jungkook, you hurt me. I don’t want you to reach out. Don’t be simping over a slut like me, right?” You drop the iced coffee on the floor between you two before walking off, the cup stays standing up and thankfully not splashing all over his shoes and pants.

Jungkook just stands there, his cheeks turning red when he notices the attention he’s getting from the students that were walking by. His hand comes up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck, bending over to pick up the cup and dispose of it before he’s speed walking with his head down, no destination in mind.

There really was no way out of this for him, he wished he could be more assertive, confident even when it came to talking to you. Maybe then he would be able to properly explain himself before you cut him off and threw words in his face that he swore weren’t true.

Jungkooks chest ached, the seed of a crush that had burrowed its roots was barely hanging on. He was trying to keep it in tact but you and his friends had taken to digging and stabbing the soil surrounding it and now he was the one hurting.

He walks deeper into campus, arriving into the makeshift lounging area, a bunch of benches and tables set around with trees and plants scattered in between. Jungkook deems this spot is fine enough and hunkers down into the ironwood bench, his body hunching over as he rests his elbows on his knees with his head hanging low.

His eyes are shut for a minute or so, the small chatter of students around him filling his ears, the crunching of leaves being heard approaching him, and then the sound stops in front of him. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, cracking an eye open and seeing a pair of tan strapped boots a few feet away from his, and thats when he lifts his head up and meets the blank stare of Yoongi.

The older one is stood there, a beanie on his head and his bag strapped on, an unreadable look on his face that only makes Jungkook nervous. Had you told Yoongi that he had bought you coffee and now he was going to get jumped? On campus? Really?

“You know,” Yoongi starts, his sharp eyes looming over Jungkook, taking in his appearance and look of pure sadness, “I’m normally a really understanding guy but I can’t for the life of me make sense to how you fucked up so badly.”

Jungkook can only swallow, not entirely sure where this conversation was leading to. Yoongi didn’t seem pissed, but he was usually really good at holding a pokerface.

Yoongi had been walking around campus, killing time between classes when he stumbled upon Jungkook looking like a wounded animal on the bench. He knew Jungkook had hurt you and if you didn’t want to give him the time of day anymore then that was your call, Yoongi being as observant as he always was, knew there was more to whatever the fuck happened. He had grown a soft spot for the kid and the time they had spent around each other let him see that what happened between you two was so very out of character for Jungkook.

He wanted to figure it out, blame it on his boredom or his love for problem solving, but he also knew that Jungkook most likely couldn’t talk to anyone right now so he also wanted to do this for him.

“Are you here to kick my ass?” Jungkook mumbles out softly, his mind already accepting defeat.

Yoongi frowns, “What? Kick your ass?”

When Jungkook nods, suddenly flinching when Yoongi starts to laugh, “You really think I could kick your ass? Thanks man.” Jungkook cracks a smile, letting himself relax now that he knows he knows Yoongi isn’t a physical threat. “Where are your friends?”

Yoongi ruffles his messy hair and readjusts his beanie as he waits for an answer, Jungkook sighs, rubbing his palms down his pants, “I don’t know, haven’t really talked to them much lately.”

After that evening Jungkook had distanced himself, it was the first time he ever raised his voice and Mingyu never expected it. He had only stayed in constant contact with Eunwoo but because his friends had formed their friendship before Jungkook joined the bunch he just felt it was best if he was the one to step back. He wasn’t sure if it was temporary or not but he wouldn’t be going back to acting like buddies unless something was discussed.

Yoongi hums, his hands gesturing to the spot beside him and Jungkook nods, reaching over and grabbing his bag to plop onto the floor by his feet. Yoongi chuckles to himself at the motion as he sits, how Jungkook was always so quick to accommodate for friends, and that’s exactly how he knows what he had done was very much not Jungkook.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened between you and Y/N?”

Jungkook gulps at the question, his heart not ready to rehash this again with Yoongi of all people, would he run to you and gossip over whatever he said?

“I mean you saw it all happen.” Jungkook mumbles out, referring to that evening when his group ran into you and Yoongi.

The older boy sighs, resting his elbows on his knees to lean forward slightly, his eyes focused on the hedges a few feet away because he knew Jungkook would squirm if he stared at him. “No, what I saw was your friend be a douchebag and Y/N telling you off. It feels like I’m missing a pretty big chunk of the picture.”

He can feel Jungkook fidget in his seat, his thighs rubbing against Yoongis as he tries to readjust himself. Jungkook feels like hes sat in front of the principles office after getting in trouble at school except Yoongi is far more terrifying than any school principle, even as hes sat there patiently waiting for Jungkook to say his half.

He just groans softly, his palms coming up to cup his eyes in shame, dropping back onto his lap as he leans fully against the bench, “I was an idiot, thats what happened.” Yoongi hums in agreement and Jungkook isn’t even offended at that, his mind being made in telling Yoongi everything he hadn’t been able to tell his friends. His friends hadn’t known that you were helping him with the girl problems he swore he had, his friends just thought Jungkook was swooned by you, his mind fixating on the relationship you had with his room mate and forming that into a mindless crush.

But he tells Yoongi all of it, tells him about the cafe meetings and text messages, leaving out details of any sexual activities you did but he admits to hoping his date with Jisoo didn’t work out because you were the one thing constantly on the back of him mind. How he had let his dumb friends influence his thinking when all he had wanted to do was come clean to you.

“I like her, so much Yoongi and I fucked it all up and the worst part is she thinks I saw her as this object I wanted to obtain but fuck–“ his eyes look up at the sky, frowning at the grey overcast, “theres no saving it is there?”

Yoongi licks his lips over as he stares at him, the distraught look on his face shows how sincere hes being and Yoongi doesn’t doubt him. He had been telling you about Jungkook’s feelings before this had all crashed and burned and its because he saw the way Jungkook acted around you compared to the moments he’d see him in passing.

“If I’m being honest, I think there was still a chance until you sealed the nail in your coffin when your friend called her a slut and you said nothing to defend her.” He shrugs at the expression on Jungkooks face, “Y/N’s stubborn, and I know she acts hard but if you really want to try to make this better no one can help you but you. I’m not going to give you tips or pointers because she’s my friend and if she wants you to keep your distance I’m going to respect that.”

Jungkook sighs with a nod, “I’ve brought her coffee these last few classes and she kept throwing them away and today she yelled at me for it.”

Yoongi laughs and Jungkook finally looks offended, a pout forming on his lips, “Dude really? You��re trying to buy her attention with coffee?”

“No thats not what I’m doing.”

“Hm, kinda is man. Have you tried not bolting out of class and going to talk to her like a human being.”

When Jungkook looks embarrassed at the realization that you had told your friends of his olympic worthy bolts Yoongi just laughs harder, his hand coming out to shove his shoulder playfully. He’s pulling out his phone, seeing the time and getting up, “I gotta get going to class but its just a suggestion, or you can talk to her out of class. These aren’t tips though, I swear.” He raised his hands in front of him before giving Jungkook a wave and walking away.

Jungkook waves back and sags into the bench when he’s gone, his hand coming up to ruffle his hair and he finds himself grinning for the first time in a while. If Yoongi told him to try then maybe he still had a chance.

It’s not until a few days later, on the last Saturday of the month, that you realize you might need to speak to Jungkook. You’re sat at your desk at work, organizing files in their respective folders, you’re grumpy and anxious since today is the day where you would have to be Jimin’s plus one at his parent’s event. You love Jimin, really you do, but you’ve been to a handful of these events with him over the course of being his friend and his parents were not shy to lay on the back handed compliments and sly digs to get under yours and his skin.

The thought of having to be in a stuffy dress, surrounded by people all of which were insanely more financially stable than you could ever dream to be, trying to make small talk and going along with whatever lie Jimin decides to throw into the mix was making you irritable and your hands clammy.

“Okay, what’s your deal.” Yoongi challenged, his hands slamming down onto his own desk with a loud slap. He was officially fed up with you, having to hear the small remarks you let slip under your breath at literally anything he did or said today was pissing him off because he had done absolutely nothing to you.

His harsh tone snaps you out of your small grumpy haze, a pout forms on your lips as you sink into your chair and slowly spin to face him. The way you look in your chair cracks him, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees the dramatic change in emotion, “Are you on your period or something?” He teases.

That makes you sit up straight again, the scowl returning on your face as you stare him down, “I’m going to ignore how demeaning that question is, but for your information no, I’m not due until the 22nd you asshole.” You let your head hang back over the chairs headrest, the thoughts of the awaiting night flashing through your head, “I’m just dreading having to go help Jimin fulfill his wish of making his parents stare at us in horror.”

Yoongi hums at that, a curious look on his face as he just waits until you lift your head back up to give him another glance, “What?”

He only gives you a shrug, his eyebrows raising up softly as he sneaks a glance at the calendar icon on his computer screen that says its currently the 28th, “The 22nd huh?” That doesn’t give him a reaction at all, your mind was whirling too much from everything consuming your life so it doesn’t register, “Y/N, are you with child?”

That gives him the reaction he was hoping, your eyes bulging out as you whip back around to grab your phone from its place beside the computer. “Shut up,” you choke out, your now shaky hands unlocking the device and going directly for the period tracking app you had, the loading screen taking its sweet time until it finally opens up. The small dot on the circle calendar that shows your typical ovulation cycle and period cycle is now hovering a little past the date you were supposed to be starting said period.

“Oh god, can you imagine the offspring you and Taehyung would create, demon child I tell you.”

You only give him a weak laugh as you lock your phone again, late periods were fine, it’s not like they never happened to you before. Plus you were on birth control, always on top of making sure you took it at the same exact time everyday, even taking the placebo pills to not fall out of routine. But that sinking feeling still lingers in your gut, the realization that you and Taehyung actually hadn’t slept together since the night he asked you out on a date, how he had used a condom and finished on your face. Then comes the small flashes of the two mistakes you made on halloween night, fucking Jungkook without a condom and begging him to cum inside you.

“Yeah.” Is all you can muster out at his comment, he takes note of the forced smile on your face and can tell you’re starting to panic a little and he’s not sure why since the amount of times you’ve let Taehyung bust inside you has lead to one other pregnancy scare before. But when your now glassy eyes come back up to look at him, his own face falls, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Was it Taehyung’s?

That same question haunts you the entire night, as you get to Jimin’s apartment and finish getting ready with him, the both of you decked out in expensive outfits that are down right insulting, not even him joking with you as you got into the car was enough to get you out of your head.

Jimin takes note of this, more so when you both arrive at the event, the way you cling onto his arm like you do during these things is normal but the way your eyes focus on the floor or chandeliers with a spaced out look on your face is not the norm.

The way you float along side him as he talks to the majority of the people here, this being one of the rules his parents give him that he respects, you barely speak up. Its a stark contrast from the way you two usually behave at these events, he’s used to the way you add on the small white lies he tells, how meeting new people was exciting because you could come up with a brand new scandalous story on how you two met. Jimin refrains from that today, the spacey look on your face only making him worry.

It’s not until two of the shareholders he’s currently speaking to, out of formality, start to give you weird glances, possibly wondering if you were under the influence of something from how out of it you looked, that Jimin respectfully excuses the two of you.

His arm wraps around your waist as he leads you towards the hallway, out of earshot from the nosey guests here and the way you let him drag you away without any complaints only worries him further. When the soft music no longer reaches your ears you seem to come back, your eyes blinking as you focus back in on where you are, seeing Jimin stood in front of you with his hands on your shoulders as he presses you against the wall gently.

“Are you on anything?” He asks softly, his head peaking down to stare up at you, your eyes aren’t hazy anymore but its clear your mind still isn’t fully tuned in, “Y/N, you gotta let me know if you took something ‘cause you’re kind of scaring me sweetheart.”

His hands come up to cup your cheeks, turning your face up to properly look at him and something about the way he stares at you, worry clear on his face and his lips pursed in concern, snaps something inside of you. Your eyes well up with tears, your lower lip trembling slightly as your face crumbles, hot tears spilling past your lashes and splashing against his hands still on your face.

“Jimin, I’m so fucked.” You garble out, the confession only making you cry harder which in turn makes Jimin even more worried. A few people attending the outrageous event pass you two in the hallway, giving you an odd glance but Jimin just glares at them, moving his body to cover you properly as you have a breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” His mind is desperately trying to remember if he saw you take anything, maybe you had drank something spiked, it could be a combination of things. “Did you drink too much champagne?” He tries to make light of the situation but his words only make you grip the lapels of his suit and tug him closer to you, burying your face into the black material.

Another sob leaves you, his hands wrapping around your body and holding you close, “Jimin.” You whine out, your voice sounding so broken and helpless and he knows something more serious is wrong. He glances behind him, into the full room, everyone mingling around with glasses in their hand and he spots his mom, grasping another flute of champagne as she stares directly at him and you.

She has the ever present disapproving stare on her face, watching her son holding you as you cry in a hallway. A few of the guests had jokingly mentioned your behavior to her in passing and the last thing she needed to hear was that her son and you were currently on drugs.

Jimin watches as she shakes her head and makes her way to another group of people, his jaw tensing at her judgmental gaze, “C’mon, lets get out of here.” He speaks to you softly, his fingers patting your head to get you to calm down, your breath hiccuping until you even it out slowly.

“O-okay, I’m sorry.”

He shushes you with a smile, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the back entrance of the building, “No, don’t be, I’ve been wanting to blow this joint for an hour now.”

Jimin knows he’s going to get the lecture of a lifetime for leaving but a couple of threats about his money being taken away seemed less important than his best friend having a mental breakdown. You let him drag you along the hallway, your other hand wiping underneath your eyes to try to fix your appearance any way you could.

By the time you two make it outside Jimin had already messaged the driver his parents had provided him with for the night, the black car already being parked out back. When you slip inside Jimin just asks him to take you both home, his fingers pushing the button to bring the partition up and you sink into the seat, avoiding his gaze.

The carpeted floors seems infinitely more interesting than you admitting to why you were absolutely losing your mind, you didn’t want say it out loud, scared that letting the words fill the air would somehow make them truthful. If you actually were with child like Yoongi had so kindly put it you wouldn’t know what to do, this had happened once before with Taehyung but you had gotten your period before you were even able to take a test so it had become kind of a joke.

But this, yeah this wasn’t funny, the possibility of being pregnant after sleeping with Jungkook when you two weren’t even talking any more was a nightmare and nothing could make this a laughing matter.

“You fucking scared me.” Jimin admits, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward in his seat, the layout of the car letting him directly face you. “Thought you took too many downers, you looked so out of it.”

You finally look up at him, your eyes red and burning from your tears and the mascara that bled into them, your cheeks are puffy and streaked up, a frown on your face when you see how sincere he looks. You hadn’t meant to scare him, you didn’t even realize how you were acting and the way anyone would perceive it. “I’m sorry.”

He waves off your apology, he didn’t need it, he was just relieved you had stopped crying, “Tell me what’s wrong.” Jimin watches as you chew on your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting on your lap as you give him a lame shrug. He stays silent, not wanting to speak until you fess up.

“I think,” You start, taking in a deep breath while your thumb scraped the nail polish off your index finger, “I might be pregnant.”

Jimin, much like Yoongi, knows how to keep his reactions in check, his face doesn’t move a muscle while he stares at you thoughtfully. His mind however is currently freaking out, trying to flick through any possible response he could give you that won’t end up making you cry again.

“Have you taken a test?”

Shake.

“Okay, have you told Taehyung?”

The silence that fills the car at his second question lasts for what seems like forever, the way your face twists up at his name, your eyes once again filling up with tears as you stare at your best friend. That same unspoken question hanging in the air.

Was it Taehyung’s?

Jimin doesn’t need you to answer it, the look on your face is confirmation enough, your words inside the event and the way you clung to him as you cried was more than enough. He brings the partition down a crack and tells the driver to stop at a convenience store nearby instead, telling him to drop you guys off there and that you’d walk home since his apartment wasn’t far from there.

The pair of you must look like a sight, Jimin dressed in his black Armani suit while you stood in a black Alexander McQueen dress he had forced you to wear, it would look picture worthy if your under eyes weren’t caked in mascara and you weren’t standing in the aisle that held pregnancy tests. Jimin hovers beside you for a moment as you stare at all the different options, stepping aside for a minute only to come back with a small green basket that was full of different things.

You’re clutching onto a pink box that promised to let you know 6 days sooner, your eyes glancing down at the basket he held, “What’s all that?”

He lifts it up higher with a smile, “Well, tissues and your favorite comfort snacks in case you...you know,” he gestures with his hand, also not wanting to speak the cursed words out loud, “and alcohol to celebrate if you’re not.”

As you stare at the items you feel the urge to vomit out of nerves, the possibility of not being able to celebrate is very probable. Your hand clutches the box with more force, bending the cardboard material slightly. Jimin reaches out and peels it out of your grasp, taking it upon himself to reach past you and grab two more tests from different brands and stuffing them in the basket as well.

“I think you should call him.”

Thats all he tells you, a sympathetic smile on his face as he walks around you to go pay for everything, leaving you in the middle of the aisle. The lump in your throat is back again, your hands twitching by your side at the thought of having to talk to him. As much as you don’t want to see him, or talk to him, you know Jimins right. In the off chance that you were...you know... it would make sense to have him there, he was partially responsible so it wasn’t fair that you’d be the only one suffering through this.

With much hesitation you reach into your small crossbody purse and pull out your phone, the screen lighting up instantly and showing you the recent messages Taehyung had sent you, asking you when you’d be home from the event along with an invitation to watch movies at his dorm since Jungkook wouldn’t be there.

When you read his name your brows furrow, why wouldn’t he be there? If he was out with friends would he even want to talk to you, would he even care, the Jungkook you knew before would but you weren’t even sure if that was still the case. You opt for sending him a text, simple and to the point, it would give him the option of reading it and responding instead of having a forced conversation on the phone.

You unblock his number and open up your thread of messages, not being able to delete the entire thing after blocking him. After sending the message you lock your phone and stuff it back into your bag.

Y/N 11:28pm We need to talk, it’s important.

On the receiving end of things Jungkook is stood in the backyard of a party Eunwoo had forced him to go to, his room mate Moonbin was currently trying to force him to chug whatever concoction was in his cup.

“No, I’m good–“ Jungkook mumbles against the plastic, Moonbin not caring as he tips the cup up, the cold liquid hitting his lips as he squeezes them shut, spilling out and down his face, successfully soaking his shirt in the strong liquor.

Moonbin just laughs, pulling the cup away, his eyes looking at the large wet patch on Jungkook’s chest, “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes, playfully shoving his friends shoulder while Jungkook shakes his head, “It’s alright, I’ma just,” he motions his hand towards the house again, the both of them nodding in understanding.

Jungkook slips his way in between people, a small grimace on his face as he feels the way his shirt now sticks to his skin as he makes his way towards the bathroom. He didn’t know why he agreed to come to this party, he didn’t hate parties, but he was used to going to them with your group. They seemed less intimidating when he was surrounded by seven extra people, and as much as he liked Eunwoo and Moonbin, he didn’t feel entirely comfortable in this environment with them.

When he manages to get into the bathroom, luckily not occupied by lovers, he grabs a fist full of toilet paper, peeling his shirt off of his chest and wiping the excess moisture from his skin. His white shirt is officially ruined, stained a faint red color and reeking of–his lifts it up to his nose and sniffs–vodka he thinks?

After tossing the soiled napkins he rests against the sink, fishing his phone out of his pocket to glance at the time and when he sees your name flashing on his home screen he momentarily wonders if he had in fact drank the poison Moonbin has spilled on him.

You messaged him. You had unblocked his number. You wanted to talk, and apparently it was important.

He slides the message open, his fingers hovering over the screen as he thinks of how to properly respond. A loud bang comes from the door and he flinches, “Hold on!” He shouts out, typing out a one words response of where before hitting send and exiting the bathroom.

Jungkook ignores the man stood by the bathroom door, shoving past him and through the bodies of everyone in the living room as he heads for the front door. He doesn’t bother letting his friends know that he’s leaving, already out of the house and walking down the street of a neighborhood he wasn’t familiar with.

His phone is clutched in his hand as he walks, the two short vibrations making him pause as he brings it up to his face, seeing you tell him to meet you at Jimin’s as soon as he could.

You’re sat on Jimin’s couch, your phone resting on his coffee table, the screen lit up after you read the message Jungkook had sent ten minutes ago, confirmation that he was on his way. Jimin was stood in his kitchen, trying to occupy himself while the both of you waited, he had been opening and closing his cabinets and rearranging whatever was inside them for a few minutes now, the constant slamming of the wood would normally get to you but right now your eyes were just glued on the three tests resting beside your phone. They were still in their boxes, you could have taken them before Jungkook got here but you didn’t have it in you.

So when you hear three brisk knocks coming from Jimin’s front door you shoot up from your spot, ramming your shin on the coffee table in your haste to get to the door. You bend over with a groan, clutching your leg in pain while Jimin beats you to it, opening the door with a gentle greeting.

His face scrunches up when he catches a whiff of Jungkook, his hand waving in front of his face as his eyes catch onto the wet spot on his shirt, “Fun night?”

Jungkook looks down at his shirt as well, “No, not really.”

He steps inside and spots you stood by the couch, not exactly sure how you should greet each other. He takes notice of your outfit, the black dress looking elegant on you even without your heels on, and he briefly remembers you mentioning the event Jimin needed you to come with him to, “You look nice in that dress.” He can’t stop himself from complimenting you, even though it makes you squirm as you stand there.

You ignore the compliment entirely, rolling your lips together as you take a look down at the coffee table, reaching for one of the boxes and holding it close to your chest. Jungkook follows the motion, his head tilting slightly until his eyes decipher whats written on the box, “I might be pregnant.”

It takes him a minute, his mind wondering why you could have possibly text him to come talk about this, and then he’s also remembering the two dreadful mistakes that happened halloween night. The way he had no complaints about fucking you raw, the idea of cumming inside you spurring him on and he can’t believe he had let himself act that stupid.

Jungkook takes the few steps necessary to reach you, standing a foot in front of you with his eyes wide in that same classic Jungkook way, “Have you taken it yet?”

“No, I was waiting for you to get here.” He watches as your face grimaces, your fingers pinching your nose as the stench of vodka hits it, “You reek, are you drunk?”

He shakes his head immediately, his fingers pulling the damp fabric again and Jimin takes sympathy on him, pushing away from his spot lingering by the door to go to his room and fetch him a clean shirt to wear, coming out with a black shirt. He tosses it at Jungkook wordlessly before announcing that he’d be leaving to give the two of you some privacy.

You force yourself to look away while Jungkook yanks the liquor soaked shirt off of himself, not giving him a glance until he’s dressed again in your friend’s clothes. “Sorry, my friend spilt his drink on me before I left.”

That didn’t matter, you honestly didn’t care if he was drunk or not, this might be a little easier if the both of you were drunk. Your fingernails start to wedge underneath the seal of the box, peeling the cardboard flap open. Jungkook reaches forward and grabs the second test on the coffee table, his trembling hands mimicking your actions. His mind was currently blank, not yet coming to terms with the fact that you could be pregnant with his child. He couldn’t think about that right now, maybe in a bit he’d feel the dread that usually comes with this but for right now all he heard in his head was static.

“Are you gonna take all three?”

You toss the empty box onto the table, holding one of the small plastic sticks in your hand, rotating it in your grasp with uncertainty, “Maybe? Should I take two and save one for tomorrow just in case?”

Jungkook doesn’t know, he’s completely clueless on what to do but he finds himself nodding because sure, leaving one test up for chance for tomorrow morning seemed to ease some of the anxiety off your face. “Yeah, yeah that sounds good.”

“Okay.”

When he pulls out the remaining test he feels the first hint of fear creep up his spine, the plastic feels heavy in his grasp, these stupid flimsy things held the answer on whether both of your lives would change or not. His brows push together as he reads the blue font on the edge of the stick, his mind now thinking of the what ifs.

He wants to throw up.

The sound of you walking towards the bathroom makes him look up from the test, seeing you standing at the edge of the hallway with an expectant look on your face, “Do you want me to come with you?” He manages to ask even though his throat feels dry.

You hold the test tighter in your hands, “Can you, I’m sorry I’m just kind of scared.”

Jungkook stands up straight, forcing his nerves away because you were whats important right now, he nods at you as he makes his way towards you, “Yeah, of course.” You thank him silently, hearing him trailing behind you as you enter Jimin’s bathroom, catching sight of yourself in his mirror and cringing at how you looked.

You set the two tests on the countertop, your eyes analyzing them, picking out the first one with the pink cap on the top of it. Jungkook can only stand there, watching as you walk towards the toilet thats right beside the sink, the dress you wear is long enough to fully cover you as you reach underneath it and tug your underwear down but he still finds himself looking away. He chooses to haul himself onto the countertop, a few feet away from you with his eyes glued to the obscure photo Jimin had hung up on the wall.

He hears the shuffling of your dress as you pick the material up around you, trying your best to bunch it up as you uncap the test and awkwardly wedge it between your thighs when you finally sit down. The idea of peeing in front of Jungkook, on a pregnancy test nonetheless, feels too domestic, too out of place for your current situation but it needs to be done.

You thank Jimin for forcing you to chug as much water as you did before he got here, your urge to pee aiding in the task. After a few seconds you pull the test out from between your legs, handing the plastic part to Jungkook and he hands you the second test, already uncapped as he sets the first one down gently on the black granite.

No words are exchanged as you do this, you just needed him here with you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, whatever you were feeling you knew he was feeling too and as much as you knew Jimin would be there for you, he wouldn’t be able to relate to these emotions right now.

Once the second test is done with and you’re no longer sat on the toilet, patting your hands dry after washing them you stand there, nibbling on your lip as Jungkook sets a timer for five minutes on his phone, “I can’t stand here and wait.”

He agrees, stepping his way out of the bathroom and motioning for you to follow him back out to the living room, plopping down onto the end of the couch. You walk around the coffee table, sitting on the opposite end of the same couch, bringing your legs up to clutch your knees to your chest as you rest your head on the back of the couch.

Five minutes feels like forever, the two of you lost in thought as his phone counts down the minutes. You can see Jungkook’s face, the way his hands are raking through his hair nervously, his nose twitching ever so often as a million emotions cross his face. God you didn’t want to be pregnant, not like this. The thought makes tears mist your eyes again, it starts as a silent cry, one or two tears slipping down your face undetected but once the dam is broken you can’t contain the sniffles you let out.

That catches Jungkook’s attention, his head whipping over to look at you, balled in on yourself as you cried, your shoulders shaking with every gasped breath you took. Seeing you look so broken and scared makes him slide his way over, not letting his uncertainty stop him from wrapping his arms around your body and bringing you into his chest.

For a brief moment he thinks you’re going to shove him back, but your arms let go of your legs as you let Jungkook hold you close, hearing his own breathing stuttering as he tries to hold in the tears he desperately wants to shed. “What are we supposed to do?” You sob, feeling his hands gently rub your back as your own hands finally wrap around his frame, needing all the comfort you could take.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, his jaw clenching when that only makes you cry harder, “whatever you wanna do.”

You don’t believe that, “Really?” You rasp out between gasps, “So if I am and want to keep it you’re fine with that?”

He nods, licking his lips in thought, “Yes, if that’s what you want.” His hands pull you in tighter, “Like I said, whatever you wanna do.” Jungkook wanted kids eventually, ideally when he was married and had a good job, but if this was the cards life gave him and you wanted to keep it then so be it. The thought of this happening was scary, the image of having to tell his parents, of having to rethink the five year plan he had, having to potentially become responsible for a tiny human was frightening but he wasn’t going to force you to do anything, especially when he could only imagine what thoughts were swimming in your head.

When your breathing evens out, your hands still holding him close, he can’t get himself to revel in it, to enjoy the feeling of you holding him like you don’t hate his guts because he knows its just because of this. After this was done you’d go back to hating him, regardless of the outcome so when his timer rings out he dreads having to let you go.

The two of you pull apart from each other, your hands weakly rubbing away the stray tears as you stare at him, seeing his face is just as red from the silent tears he managed to shed. You share a look, a deep breath being let out between the both of you, you couldn’t put this off any longer so you force yourself to get up and somberly make your way back to the bathroom.

The light was left on, both of the used tests being face down since you and Jungkook couldn’t bare to stare at the small countdown on the tiny screen, you and him stand at the doorway, the reflection on the mirror showing just how distraught and unprepared you are for whatever the results are.

“Should we each flip one over?” He suggests, his fingers twitching at his sides, just wanting to get it over with.

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He reaches for the pink capped test and you grab the blue one, your fingers lingering on the sides of it with uncertainty, “On three.” He begins, seeing you nod in the mirror as you stare down at the stick.

One.

Two.

Three.

The both of you flip the test over, mentally bracing yourself as your eyes make out the tiny words on the gray screen. A small gasp is shared between you two, eyes wide in disbelief you crane your neck over to read the words on the test Jungkook holds and he does the same, not wanting to react until you know they both say the same thing.

not pregnant

“Oh thank fuck.” He whispers out, the test falling out of his grasp and clattering against the floor. Jungkook crumbles against the sink, resting his weight on his elbows as his head hangs low. You let yourself finally take a breath, dropping your head back to stare at the ceiling with the test still clutched in your right hand. The turmoil in your brain halts for a second, no longer thinking of how your life is on a downward spiral just when it had finally seemed to fall together.

The bathroom is silent for a moment, the pair of you trying to compose yourselves from the roller coaster of emotions that transpired in the past 15 minutes. You weren’t pregnant, you weren’t going to become a mother and Jungkook wasn’t going to become a father. Thank fucking god.

“Would you really have let me keep it if I was?” You break the silence, leveling your head back down and staring at his hunched over frame, his own head peaking up to stare at you resting against the nearest wall of the bathroom.

“Yeah.” He admits quietly, sending you a small nod as he looks into your eyes with the utmost sincerity.

“Were you ready to be a dad?” You give him an incredulous look, once again not believing he’d be ready to uproot his entire life over one night together. Hell, you weren’t ready to be a mother, you were selfish and the only thing you were focused on was finishing school and not being in debt. Having a kid was not in your near future.

Jungkook stands up again, giving you a shrug and staring at the marble floors, “No, not at all,” The relief on his face is clear as he takes in a breath, “but considering I had no complaints about not wearing a condom I don’t think I’m in any place to tell you what to do with your body.”

That wasn’t an answer you had been expecting, and for a moment you’re reminded on the Jungkook you had developed a crush on, the one that was always so willing to sacrifice his own comfort to make his friends feel better. When you had been in this position with Taehyung, after knowing you were in the clear, you had text him asking him what he would have done if you were actually pregnant and all he had sent you was the cartoon meme of a lady tossing a child into the air like a basketball.

It had made you laugh because realistically, that would be the route you would take but hearing someone voice how it was indeed your choice was nice, comforting even. You’re grateful it didn’t have to come to that though, hypothetically you know what you would’ve done but if you actually were pregnant you’re not sure if that choice would change.

He stares at you again, seeing how your face looks at ease now, your eyes focused on your feet pressed against the cool marble floors. “I’m sorry.” He begins, scared of where this conversation would lead to but he needed to suck it up, he had to properly apologize to you. If you shouted at him and threw him out afterwards he could live with that, as long as he was finally able to speak to you.

“That I’m not pregnant?”

“No,” he shakes his head, resting his back on the wall adjacent to the sink, seeing the realization sink into your face at what he was apologizing for, “I’m sorry for handling my emotions the way I did. For focusing on myself and not thinking of how it would affect you.”

A tiny scowl makes it way across your face, your free hand curling into a fist at your side but he looks about ready to barf so you let him continue, “I was scared of how our relationship would change after that morning, which sounds stupid now considering thats exactly what ended up happening because of me.” He’s forcing himself to maintain eye contact, not wanting to look away from you, “It was never my intention to make you feel like I was using you.”

He sees the flash of anger in your eyes at his words right before you bite, “How the hell did you think I would feel after that Jungkook? We sleep together and you immediately drop me, what did I do for you to treat me like that, should I not have asked you to have breakfast after?”

“No, god no. You didn’t do anything.” He wants to bang his head against the drywall, wanting to release his inner frustrations out on himself, “It was all me, I could feel the crush I had on you growing and I knew you didn’t want a relationship so I didn’t want to confess and then put you in an uncomfortable position. My friend’s got in my head-”

“Do you not have a mind of your own?”

He stops mid sentence, his head tilting slightly at your words, “What?”

You stand up straighter against the wall, your arms crossing under your chest while you glare at him, “You’re telling me that instead of doing what you wanted to do, you rely on whatever the hell your friends told you. The same friends that called me a slut I’m assuming.”

His face scrunches up at that, an apologetic look on it as he sighs, “I’m sorry-”

The hand you raise up stops him from apologizing again, “I don’t want to hear that, whatever you say now won’t change the fact that you did nothing when I needed you to.” He could say sorry a million times for the way his friend acted, tell you he fought him or yelled at him for what he said, none of that mattered because he had stayed silent in front of you. “I just want to know what they could’ve said that convinced you that treating me like this had a better outcome than admitting to a crush.”

Jungkooks eyes drop back down to the floor, landing on the forgotten pregnancy test laying beside his feet, the tip of his shoes pushing the plastic on the floor. He wants to go back to that day, he knows what his friends said shouldn’t have influenced him because he knew you, but the way they hounded him made him doubt everything. He had already been so unsure of the way he was reading things and their reaction just made him feel like he had no idea how to behave in situations that they claimed were regular occurrences for them.

“They told me I was stupid for thinking of telling you how I feel, that there was no way you’d see this as more than one night because you have Taehyung, to just let it go because you didn’t view sex the same way I probably did.”

His words just make you frown, “Jungkook, was I ever a bad friend to you?”

He shakes his head, his courage gone, no longer being able to look at you.

“Did I ever make you feel uncomfortable?”

Once again he shakes his head.

“So then why did you think you couldn’t talk to me. You know me better than any of your friends do, why were their opinions of me more important than yours?”

“I don’t know, but they shouldn’t have been. I was just scared of admitting my feelings.”

A sigh leaves your lips, you weren’t in the mood to shout at him, or argue, you were emotionally drained for the night. “You wanna know why I liked you Jungkook?”

He finally looks up again, his eyes dimming slightly at the word liked, past tense, you had liked him. “You’ve always been sweet to me, you trusted me enough to come to me for help, you always let us drag you along to places I could tell you didn’t want to be at just because you knew it would make one of us smile. Every time we hung out together I knew it was genuine, you were hanging out with me because you wanted to, not because you were expecting to get something out of it, but then you did this and it has me wondering if everything leading up to it was a lie.”

The hurt is evident on your face and Jungkook just wants to make it right, he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of this, “No I promise it wasn’t, I loved spending time with you, it wasn’t all for some end goal. You were the first person to make me feel comfortable in school.” He recalls the first day he saw you in your shared class, the way you had let him know he didn’t have to be wary talking to you, the open ended promise of a friendship before you parted ways.

“I literally gave you a black eye with my camera when I met you.”

“Yeah, but I deserved it right?”

That gets you to crack a smile, the way he scrunches up his face as he remembers the way your camera had felt when it sucker punched him in the face. He hadn’t deserved it, no one deserved to get a bloody nose and black eyes on their first day of college, you had just said that to hurt him.

“Yeah, you did.” You tease him, seeing the way he relaxes slightly when you let out a small laugh.

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I don’t expect you to forgive me, or not hate me anymore but I just needed you to know why I acted like a dumbass.”

The air falls silent once more, the both of you look utterly defeated, drained and vulnerable while you stand in the giant bathroom. You bring up the test that was still in your grasp, your lips pressing together as you reread the text. “Jungkook, you were ready to become a fucking dad, I don’t think I could totally hate your guts.”

Jungkook can feel his chest ache again, his hands clenching at his sides, urging the feeling to go away, he couldn’t think about the stupid seed of a crush still hanging on to his heart. The both of you had been through enough tonight, you admitting to not being able to hate him was good enough for him.

“Really?”

You push off the wall and toss the test into the trash bin by the toilet, Jungkook bends down and picks up the one on the floor, handing it to you as well. “Yeah really, you’re on thin ice though.”

The soft smile you give him makes him sigh in relief, “I’ll be on my best behavior. Scouts honor.”

You snort as you turn and walk out of the bathroom, hearing him flick the light off and follow you back out to the living room, you pass the coffee table and turn into the kitchen, pulling out the bottle of red wine Jimin had bought, grabbing the giant bag of chocolate chip cookies and wine opener as well before walking back out towards the couch.

Jungkook eyes the items in your hand, flopping onto the couch as you sit beside him, holding the bottle of wine between the two of you. You hand him the wine opener and he makes do, twisting the end of it into the cork and popping it open quickly, setting the device onto the coffee table, “To not becoming parents.”

The bottle is raised high between you as you smile, bringing it to your lips and taking a giant gulp of the fruity liquid, wiping your mouth as you hand it to Jungkook. He repeats what you do, taking a massive gulp and setting the bottle down with care, scared of spilling the red liquid on Jimin’s light couch.

To not becoming parents.

Somewhere in between finishing the bottle of wine, you find yourself sprawled out on the couch, your legs curled up by your chest with your head resting on Jungkook’s thigh. In turn his body is sinking into the couch, his head resting on the back of it, one of his hands laying on the arm rest while the other gently plays with your hair. You’re lazily munching on a cookie, the warm feeling of being wine drunk settled into your bones, Jungkook’s touch only aiding in making you feel sleepier.

“I think I’d be a really shitty mom.” You mumble out between chewing, your hand reaching down between your legs to stuff your hand into the cookie bag once more.

“What, why?”

Jungkook feels you shrug against his legs, “I don’t know, I’ve never really been maternal, kinda selfish.”

His eyes are shut, his cheeks are flushed and he feels warm but content, “Don’t say that, do you want kids?”

“Maybe, thats why it scares me though.” The thought of having a kid and being a lousy parent is what stopped you from visualizing a future with a family, you didn’t want to be a shitty mom. Flashes of the way you were raised flick behind your lids when you shut them, the strained relationship you have with your parents, the reality that some people really should’ve never become parents. The last thing you’d ever want to do is bring a child into the world and instead of nurturing it with unconditional love all you manage to do is tear them down.

“I think you’d be a great dad though.”

Your words are quieter now, your eyes slipping shut as he hums in thought. You could picture Jungkook as a dad, married to someone just as sweet as he was, living near the beach or somewhere suburban. He’d be the kind of dad who took his kids to all their sporting events, teaching them a little bit of everything because Jungkook had that talent. To think that might have been kickstarted tonight if things had gone differently.

“You think so?” Its a soft question, almost as if he hadn’t meant to voice it at all but you mumble out a yes in response, smiling once more when you hear him sigh gently, almost picturing the grin thats surely on his face.

Silence falls over you two again, and for a moment you think maybe he had fallen asleep since you weren’t too far from it, but his fingers continue to comb through your hair, “Are you with Taehyung now?” He asks shyly, he had heard about you going on dates and hanging out with him alone more often but he didn’t want to assume anything again, thats exactly what got him in this predicament in the first place.

“No, I’m not.” The words fall from your mouth instantly, almost as if you’re eager to let Jungkook know he had a chance, no matter how small, you want to blame it on the wine, on anything really, but you can’t deny that Jungkook had you charmed the minute you met him, the feeling only growing as you got to know him more.

His fingers freeze in your hair for a split second before continuing like your words had no affect on him. He smiles though, his lips curving up softly, his eyes blinking open and tilting his head down to stare at your drifting form, nuzzled onto his thighs in a way that made him forget the events that had happened these last few weeks.

When he doesn’t speak you take it upon yourself to tease him the way you knew best, “So, you had a crush on me huh?” Your words are mostly slurred together from sleep slowly taking over but he hears you clearly.

Expecting him to be bashful, scoff and deny it, pretend like he was over it but instead he sighs, his body sliding down the couch half an inch, the hand in your hand coming down to drape across your shoulder softly, “Yeah, I have a crush on you.”

The words replay in your head, the soft warmth in your chest spreading throughout you and you really can’t fault the alcohol for it, for the way you feel fuzzy at the confession of him still having a crush on you but you reel it in, shutting your eyes once more and humming in response. The two of you slowly drifting off on your best friends couch after the events of tonight, exhausted and relieved all at once.

When Jimin finally makes it back in a little before 1am he holds his breath, shutting the door softly when he makes out the shape of your silhouettes sleeping on the couch. His eyes lock onto the empty wine bottle and he feels his body sag in relief, thankful that you had drank the alcohol in celebration and he wouldn’t be walking into another scene of tears because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold his own back this time.

Jungkook looks boneless on his couch, his head hanging off the side with his mouth dropped open slightly, his hand is still draped across your shoulder while you sleep soundly on his thighs, the dress you wore to the event still on you and the two of you look like complete messes but Jimin still smiles.

He reaches out and grasps the empty bottle, gently pulling the bag of cookies from where its wedged between your legs, deciding to save the lecture on crumbs for tomorrow morning. As he pulls back, giving you and Jungkook another once over he freezes when he sees Jungkook’s bleary eyes blinking at him in confusion.

“Congrats.” Jimin teases softly, ruffling Jungkook’s hair with his free hand, seeing the soft smile that spreads across his face, his body sagging into the couch once more.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, adjusting the arm draped around you to go back to raking through your hair. Jimin and his eyes lock once more, a silent conversation between them and Jungkook understands and hopes that the second morning after plays out better than the last.

#btsghostie #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fics

294 notes · View notes

ticklishpeter · 4 years ago

Text

remember when?

gfhdjbh this is so self-indgulgent. pls enjoy my second fic for diego’s day ! tw for,,,,,, pee i guess lmaoooo

fandom: the umbrella academy characters: diego & all the other hargreeves siblings!!! summary: klaus calls a family meeting; chaos ensues. word count: 1,691

The shrill sound of a bell rang through the mansion as Klaus sang out, obnoxiously loud, “FAMILY! FAAAMILYYYY!” The strong vibrato making Ben angrily cover his ears.

All six siblings met in the room fairly quickly; everyone looking either confused or tired... or both. “What is it, Klaus?” Luther grumbled, sleepily scratching the back of his head.

“I’ve been watching our little old... home videos,” he held up air quotes, “and I came across,” chuckling, he put a video tape into the small television in front of the group, “such a lovely little memory.”

A few seconds of fuzzy fast-forwarding later, the content of the tape made Diego’s stomach drop; it was an old ‘security tape,’ from when they all were 11 years old, of all six of his siblings pinning him down and tickling him to tears.

“I remember that. You guys tickled him until he cried,” Vanya exclaimed with an amused smile, watching the screen.

“Oh, he did more than cry, if I remember correctly,” Luther snickered.

Yes, they made him pee his pants from laughing so hard. No, he would never admit it or talk about it ever again.

His face began to heat up, and as soon as each and every one of his siblings glanced over at him, he bolted off of the couch and ran away; at least... he attempted to run away. He didn’t get very far before he was taken down to the floor by his giant, half-ape brother.

“NO! KLAUS! — LUTHER! — DAMMIT, FUCK OFF!!” Diego growled, trying his very best to fight off his siblings, but it was six to one, and practically hopeless. And he knew exactly what was about to happen.

Luther managed to grab Diego’s upper arms, pinning them to the floor, as Klaus and Vanya each straddled a thigh. Leaving Allison, Five, and, while only visible to Klaus, Ben standing by; almost exactly like old times. Ben’s go-to spot used to be on the thigh that Vanya was now on, but he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that their sister was finally getting herself involved.

Allison took no time to start poking around at his stomach with two index fingers, and Diego’s tough facade lasted about two seconds before he fell into a fit of gasps and yelps, trying not to laugh. “No! It —” His voice was strained and rather high-pitched.

“What? Does it tickle? Huh? Does it tickle, Diego?” Allison cooed in her best baby voice as she wiggled one nail around the surface of his belly.

He tried his hardest to frown but he just couldn’t hold back the giggles that were flooding out of him. It was just one finger, and no one else was doing anything except watching him; why the fuck was he so giggly already?

“I-it doesn’t! It doesn’t t-tick —” he stifled a laugh and squirmed, angling his body away from Allison’s finger ever so slightly.

“It doesn’t what?” Adding her other pointer finger, she poked and scratched around his abs.

“D-doesn’t... t-tickle! Shut up!” he squeaked, saying the word made the dam break again as his shoulders began to bounce.

As Diego gasped through his laughter, trying to keep it quiet, Five kneeled down to his other side, squeezing at his ribcage. “C’mon Diego, laugh it up, you know you want to,” his menacing smile and teasing words catching Diego off-guard; he wasn’t used to Five being in such a mood.

“S-s-stooop,” he whined, almost akin to a toddler about to snitch to their mom. Giggling into his shoulder, he felt his face begin to heat up.

As if he wasn’t about to scream already, Ben reached over Allison’s shoulder, lifted Diego’s shirt only slightly and wiggled a few fingers in and around Diego’s bellybutton.

“NO!” You’d think he was being stabbed by one of his knives with how loud he screamed, and how violently he’d flinched.

Five and Allison looked confused for a second before Klaus’ voice piped up, “Ooh, Ben’s getting the tickle button!” They all couldn’t help but grin; of course he was. The way Diego’s face quickly reddened, and the way his laugh’s pitch heightened was enough of a sign.

“It’s! No, it’s — it’s not a ti — GAH! I-it’s not a b-b-button!” That definitely wasn’t what he meant to say; he just didn’t want to say the dreaded word.

“Pretty sure it’s called a belly button, Diego. What are you talking about?” Vanya couldn’t help but giggle with sheer amusement.

“Yeah, and it is a tickle button because every time you touch it, this happens.” Klaus reached up to poke at his navel, which resulted in a ticklish yelp and approximately 5 successive curse words.

Klaus, with his other hand, then began to pinch and squeeze at his brother’s thigh and Vanya followed suit.

“NOHOHO, — SHIT, NO!” he hiccuped, much to his chagrin, “GUYS, FUCKING — FUCK!! FUCKING STOHOHOHOP, STOPSTOP, GOD D-DAMMIT!”

Five scoffed, a dimple showing on one of his cheeks, “And you all say I have a potty mouth.” His squeezes moved to his vigilante brother’s upper stomach, as Allison focused on the center, her nails now also finding his navel.

Squealing as his legs shook fervently, Diego tugged on his arms with all the strength he could muster (which wasn’t much) and squirmed around as much as he could. God, this was humiliating. He was painfully aware of the squeaky and pathetic sounds he was making but could not, for the life of him, stop making them, which made his face burn.

“Aww, Diego, you sound like a big baby!” Klaus laughed, poking up and down his designated thigh in no particular rhythm, before laughing again at Diego rapidly shaking his head, now practically unable to speak.

“Don’t make any noise and we’ll let you go.” Allison taunted over Diego’s uncharacteristically boisterous squeals, spidering five nails across the middle of his stomach.

“FUCK OFF!” he yelled before quickly changing his tone after she poked a torturous nail into his navel. “OKAY, OKAY, I WON’T MAKE ANY NOISE,” he rambled, turning his head away.

“Deal,” Allison smiled, beginning to drag a single nail in circles around his tummy, slowly but surely closing in on his goddamned belly button.

A sharp exhale left poor Diego’s nose, and she wasn’t even close to the middle of his stomach yet, but he knew what was coming... and that made it ten times worse.

“That wasn’t a noise, right?” Luther genuinely asked before Allison and Klaus shook their heads. “We’ll let it slide for wittle baby Diego’s sake.” Allison mused, relishing in Diego’s reaction as he shook his head into his shoulder and scrunched his face up.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!” Klaus giggled, clearly having the time of his life.

Five chuckled, loving the nostalgic shared moment with his siblings, “Let’s hope you don’t piss yourself again, Diego.”

“Yeah, I was embarrassed for you,” Luther chuckled, holding his arms down, still with seemingly no effort at all.

He wanted so badly to tell them all to shut the hell up, but he couldn’t because he was too busy trying to swallow any noise he could possibly make. His shoulders bounced as laughter quietly bubbled in his throat.

The closer and closer Allison’s nail got to the hole in his middle, the harder it became to hold anything in. Out of anticipation alone, a humiliating giggle escaped his lips, and with the exaggerated coos that followed, he couldn’t hold back any longer. A screech preceded bouts of giggly, adorably contagious laughter.

“Aww, already? But I’m being so nice to you!” Allison chuckled, a hint of endearment in her voice.

As soon as her nail dipped in, he was done for. But then... she added another hand, and as Five continued to pinch around the skin, Klaus and Vanya reached up to vibrate claw-shaped hands into his lower tummy, and Ben squeezed at his sides. Fucking fuck.

“Tummy attack!” Klaus screeched as the others added in some laughs, teases, and coos.

The feeling of all ten hands (one pair of which was unbearably phantom-like) all scritching, poking, and digging in to his tummy was enough to convince him that he was on the brink of death, and Luther’s fingers twitching into his triceps just added to the torture. Tears began to sting his eyes, and his cheeks began to hurt. He was a squirmy, screeching, laughing mess. And ... oh god, his bladder was getting uncomfortable.

The mixture of a snort and growl that left his mouth made his siblings laugh. “PLEHEASE,” he cried out with a wide smile, “I CAHA-” his cackles faded into silent laughter as his whole body trembled.

A cacophony of coos and teases came from his brutal siblings as they did not let up; Diego felt like the tickling sensation on his stomach was somehow getting worse.

“STOP IT! STOPIT, STOP PLEEEA —” between hiccups, he mouthed the words “I can’t, I can’t!” as he shook his head into his arm, occasionally trying to bite at Luther’s hands. “I’M GONNA P — HA!! I’M GONNA — EEK! FUCK, NO, NO, ALLISON! GUHUHUYS!” Diego’s legs bounced beneath Klaus and Vanya when he felt a huge raspberry right over his belly button. The feeling of that mixed with 50 fingers on his tummy was too much. He just couldn’t.

Diego let out a loud, more urgent sounding yelp as he kicked a leg, “GUYS! GETUPGETUPGETUP!” He would rather die admit that he peed himself again, and he didn’t have to because Vanya noticed his pants’ spreading stain first, immediately standing up and covering her laughing mouth.

“Oh my God, guys!” She couldn’t help but crack up.

The rest of his siblings laughed when they realized; Five doubling over and Klaus cackling as he stood. The second that Luther let go of his arms, Diego held one of them over his crotch and the other over his face before turning away towards the bathroom. All the Hargreeves saw was a middle finger as their ticklish brother wobbily, and angrily, stormed away. He would not hear the end of this.

#ticklish!diego #tickle fic #tua tickle fic #tua #tua tickle fic week #my fics

28 notes · View notes

okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

Note

really weird hc but i think steve never cries, like it’s not that he doesn’t want to he just can’t??? he’s filled with emotions and he knows he technically should be crying but he just can’t. But billy on the other hand, if you asked him he’d deny it but he cries all. the. time. when he’s angry. when he’s sad. when he’s stressed. when he’s happy and laughing. he just can’t control it.

This is such an interesting headcanon and I DEFINITELY agree!!!! I think it makes perfect sense!!

Bc the way I think about it, Steve’s life has been a lot more performative than Billy’s has, if that makes any sense? Like, I think of Steve’s parents and I think of the kind of terrible people who had a kid just to 1. Pass down the name and 2. Say they have the “perfect family”. Like, they toted Steve out for parties just like Daisy does in Great Gatsby and then they’d hand him off to the sitter or the nanny or the maid or whatever. They didn’t actually want to raise a kid and understand that kid as a person, they wanted a trophy to say: “See this? This proves our relationship is strong and our marriage was worth it.”

And then, in the background, before Steve would be dragged off to whatever private function he was being forced and dressed to attend, his mom would grab him harshly and tightly around his little shoulders and kneel down to look him right in the eye and say: “You behave yourself, understand? There are going to be very important clients there and if you bother us while we’re working, you’re going to be grounded for a whole week. No, two. No toys, TV, nothing. You hear me?” And just imagine a little Steve, about age 5, blinking owlishly at his mom and nodding his head bc of course he can hear her, she’s right in his face, but the only thing he knows about “clients” is that they make his parents yell at each other and that they’re the reason his parents never read him bedtime stories or tuck him in at night

And I really don’t know a whole lot about like… the lives of the rich and famous, but I just can’t help but imagine Steve’s parents going to parties with the other “elite” in the area. And I use the term “elite” loosely bc i mean… let’s face it…. They still live in Hawkins. They’re definitely rich but it’s not like they’re rubbing elbows with high society over here. They’re the kind of rich, snobby, stuck up people who think they’re better than the people they share a community with. It’s the reason they’re not home very often: they hate being reminded about the fact that they haven’t moved out of Hawkins.

So they go to lots of rich, stuck up parties. And they hold Steve up like a trophy to their friends about how they have a kid already and “where’s yours, Patricia? Oh, don’t have one yet? Are things alright with you and Greg? Oh, just wondering, because if you don’t have a kid yet, well…. Maybe something’s wrong at home…”

and so Steve, with fresh threats swimming in his mind, stands there and smiles and takes all the cheek pinches and head pats even though he’s only a child and is about to fall asleep on his feet because they’ve been walking around meeting people for hours and the other kids won’t play with him because they think he’s “boring” or “stupid” or “poor” (which doesn’t make sense to him bc he’s the richest kid in his preschool as far as he’s aware. He figures the preschools must be different here.) so he puts on a mask even for the other kids. He pretends he doesn’t like playing in the mud or collecting bugs or making jokes about boogers. He puts aside acting like a kid to act like these kids just so he can play with them. Sometimes it works.

And so I think he learned not to cry at a very young age. Honestly, i dunno if you’ve heard about it, but I’m channeling The Who’s Tommy over here. Like, the whole “kid is threatened not to speak about this thing, that he didn’t see this thing, and that he didn’t hear this thing and thus goes deaf, blind, and mute”. And obviously a little less dramatic than that, but Steve’s always been told not to cry. When he would cry he’d get punished. It’s like a weird Pavlovian effect. Ever since he was a kid he was asked to put on a show for everyone, told not to pout or whine or cry, and now he just…. Can’t. He almost fears it. He hears his parents threats, even now at the age of 18, and smiles and laughs rather than cries. And sometimes he cries… that night that Nancy called him bullshit and told him she didn’t love him he went home and ripped a blanket she had (apparently lovelessly) gifted him and broke his lamp and accidentally sliced his foot on the glass of the lightbulb…. and cried and… and it felt like failure. It was only a couple of tears, hot and angry and rolling slowly down his face and he let his throat catch fire as he held everything else back. He was angry with himself at that point, more than anything. He looked himself in the mirror and heard his father’s words of “A Harrington never cries. Are you a true Harrington?” and sucked it all back in and did whatever he could to take his mind off of it, even though everything he did always ended with him fuming about the words over and over again and caused him to end up punching pillows and angrily drinking all the beer out of the fridge.

But Billy’s different.

Billy is a volcano. A volcano of every single emotion you can think of. He experiences them all violently and viciously and they take over his system until his body physically can’t hold back from crying. We SEE him cry multiple times in the show!!! And i like to think it’s bc rather than be toted around, he’s been locked in. where Steve’s parents drag Steve around to different social functions, Neil locks Billy up so he- and no one else -has to look at him. Steve is forced to be around others and put on a mask and Billy is forced to be alone, with just himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t need to mask himself when he’s alone.

And that’s not to say that Billy doesn’t also put on a show for others- because he most definitely does. I think a lot of what he does is performative bc he feels he needs to and his thought process for it lines up with Steve’s for himself: he’s just not good enough. He wasn’t good enough for his mom to stay, he wasn’t good enough for his dad to love in his mother’s absence, he wasn’t and isn’t good enough for anything. So he puts on a show of this big tough guy and he manipulates people and he calls it entertainment.

And this isn’t to say that he didn’t get yelled at for crying, either! Bc he definitely did. He’s gotten hit a few times for tears in his eyes but it was always followed with being locked in his room and being told that he was “embarrassing to watch”... and in the four walls of his room he cried more. Bc growing up, the one thing he found relief in was being sent to his room or even having his room in the first place: it gave him a space to be alone and let his emotions out. And he never tried to, his body always just did it for him. Bc crying is often a very visceral thing, and also a very natural and very human thing. It releases chemicals in your body to help soothe you and lord KNOWS Billy needs to soothe himself bc once his mom left, no one did it for him. His body realizes the emotions that aren’t being sorted and his mind knows when it’s safe (when he’s alone, when Neil’s turned and walking away, when no one can hear) and it cries. I just imagine Billy on constant vibrate, brimming with emotions and filled to the edge with too many things with everything with all of it and he just cries because there’s so few outlets for him. His body has grown accustomed to taking care of itself in that way. And so when he’s had too much (and the threshold on some days if very small), he rushes to his room and slams the door and as soon as it’s latched he’s near drowning in tears bc he needs release.

And let me tell you- it freaks the fuck out of Steve.

Because like you said, Steve just doesn’t cry. And the first time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy cries as he orgasms and Steve freaks. out. He thinks he did something wrong and he’s fretting over Billy and his heart is racing and he’s fighting with himself about if he should hold Billy’s face or step about 5 feet away from him because holy shit what happened??

And Billy feels like an idiot but there’s no stopping his body because he’s so overwhelmed by feeling so good and it’s been a long time coming for him and Steve and after all of that anger and animosity between each other, it was just too much and he cries. And he punches Steve while he’s crying, trying his best to growl but hiccuping around the words instead as he says: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m so sorry Billy, holy shit! What do I do?!”

“Go get me a tissue, you dumbass!”

And he’s sniffling and blows his nose loud and Steve is in awe that Billy is still such a hardass even with tears running down his eyes.

And this happens a LOT. Every time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy tears up after he orgasms. It’s not always full on waterworks like the first time, but his eyes always water as he lays there with Steve, body lit up and hot like a fucking campfire, and he lays there and breathes and a tear rolls down his cheek and Steve has gotten so used to it that he leans over Billy and kisses the tear right at his cheekbone and whispers how beautiful he is. (and that usually makes Billy tear up even more, to which he shoves Steve with whatever strength he has left and tells him to shut his mouth)

The first time they tell each other “I love you” it’s the same thing. Billy whispers “I love you, too” and there go his tears. His chest heaves and he cries into Steve’s collarbone, gripping Steve’s shirt and Steve just kind of chuckles a bit and rubs Billy’s back and maybe cracks a joke about how he’s “such a sap” and Billy tilts his head so he can bite at Steve’s shoulder and make the boy yelp.

And the first time Billy catches Steve about to cry, he sees that the boy is about to run away. Bc he’s taken notice to the fact that Steve doesn’t cry and he hasn’t brought it up more than twice bc Steve is obviously anxious when he talks about it but Billy gets worried for him bc Steve always acts like he’s okay and Billy knows that’s not good. So when he catches Steve’s eyes watering and then Steve turning to lock himself away somewhere, he grabs the boy in the most forceful hug he can manage so that he can’t squirm away and hide himself and he says: “Don’t run away from me. Are you gonna cry?”

“Billy-”

“Then do it. You’re not a robot.”

“Billy stop I-”

“You’re human, you fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t call me-”

“It’s okay.”

And that makes Steve’s chest heave. He sucks so much air in he squeaks and his chest pushes against Billy’s own and Billy grabs tighter and nuzzles his head into Steve’s neck and whispers.

“You’re safe, Pretty Boy.”

And he stands there and he lets Steve cry. Lets himself be whatever physical and mental support Steve needs as he finally, finally let’s his body take over and just cries.

#ask #anonymous #billy hargrove #steve harrington #angst #hurt #comfort #harringrove #sorry this is a little off/weird #I'M feeling a little off/weird #i've been in a really bad headspace recently #but i really wanted to write something and i wrote this really quickly and.... yeah #♥#sorry this took a billion years to answer #i swear i'm gonna get to all my asks guys #eventually #there are a lot of things going on and they're giving me nervous breakdowns

158 notes · View notes

miikewheelers · 5 years ago

Text

ok so for some reason i decided to write a few headcanons about how ticklish some of the free boys were so imma share them here bc i think they’re all super cute and they need some love (i did the same for utapri so imma share them here at some point as well)

*i also added some gifs for your viewing pleasure ehehe

haru

lil grumpy baby is actually pretty ticklish (it’s canon hehe)! esp on his stomach and sides

usually is pretty annoyed if someone starts an attack, but he’s done if you manage to latch onto the lower part of his torso

cue a screaming, laughing, crying mess of a haru pretty scary ik o.o

very squirmy! starts kicking almost immediately and tries to make a few frustrated grunting noises but it never works

embarrassed baby tries to hide his face all the time uwu

usually is very grumpy afterwards and he NEVER initiates tickle fights unless if he’s in a special kind of mood

makoto

holy shit y’all

i literally mean like holy fucking shit you guys

my child??? my baby???? literally the most ticklish person in THE world

like you don’t even need to touch him to make him laugh

hover your fingers over his sides and he’ll curl up and immediately begin hiccuping in laughter

but when it comes to REAL contact??? ANY kind of it for that matter???

he’s just....gonna die

his chest would be heaving as he tried laughing, but this poor ticklish baby would be too weak to laugh or squirm or try to get away

it’s so amusing how such a big person can get IMMEDIATELY incapacitated by such small movements like oh my god

ticklish LITERALLY everywhere, even on the elbows

wouldn’t deny being ticklish, but he would be very shy about it uwu

very merciful tickler! will make sure there is a safeword in place before tickling someone. he doesn’t want anyone to be tortured the same way as him!

nagisa

suuuuper dramatic boy when being tickled!!

veeery ticklish everywhere, but honestly not quite to makoto’s level ahaha

the VERY INSTANT the tickling starts, he’s reduced to a screaming mess, batting and kicking and wailing at the top of his lungs

he literally doesn’t even laugh, he just screams. like those high-pitched, bloodcurdling screeches

this was a habit he picked up from being mercilessly tickled by his three sisters when he was younger

worst spots are under the arms and his little feets!!

probably the most open in the swim club about being ticklish; if someone asks him he’ll just back away and say things like “i’m SOOOOO” or “i’m literally the most ticklish person ever”

most likely to tickle his friends when they need cheering up!!

rei

a lot like haru, actually: relatively ticklish everywhere, but to a certain degree higher

but lemme tell you that he’s nowhere near as good as haru at hiding his smiles and laughing face

veeeery quickly succumbs to the laughter!

flips back and forth in a desperate attempt to dismantle the other person’s hands

most ticklish on the sides, all the way from his armpits to his hips, both sides of his knees, and his feet

usually is very grumpy after being tickled, and is shy about tickling others unless if he’s in a playful mood or if he knows the other person well (nagisa)

rin

suuuuper ticklish, but only in a couple places!

....which happen to be his knees and his feet. ehehe

tickling him in other places like the sides or the stomach might elicit some light laughs out of him if you’re determined!

but if you go for the aforementioned areas, he’s bound to scream at the top of his lungs at first contact

pretty violent actually! he squirms, kicks, and flails, all while persistently begging the other person to stop. like if you want to have a tooth knocked out go ahead and tickle my dude ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

usually gets very tired after tickle fights and lays there for a few minutes panting and letting out tiny giggles

ABSOLUTELY RELENTLESS TICKLER THO PLEASE BE WARNED

YOU CANNOT TICKLE RIN AND NOT EXPECT RETALIATION

sousuke

surprisingly not very ticklish! maybe some pokes and light touches along his sides and under his arms may elicit a few light chuckles out of him; otherwise he’s not very sensitive to tickling

......but.

B U T.

THIS BOY. HAS ONE SPOT. THAT WILL MAKE HIM LOSE HIS MIND.

HIS FEET ARE SO FUCKING TICKLISH OH MY GOD.

LIKE ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS LOOK AT THEM FUNNY AND HE’LL START LAUGHING.

a SINGLE, REMOTE touch to the sole of his foot will have him sc r eaming

but actual tickling tho???? ACTUAL TICKLING??????

PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE MOST OUT OF CHARACTER SOUSUKE YOU WILL EVER WITNESS IN YOUR LIFE

he screams at first and then he lets out these squeaky, ugly hilarious hiccup laughs

HUUUGE squirmer, you’d better fucking believe it

ok i know i said he only has one spot that will make him lose his mind, but honestly his ears are super ticklish too. like just whispering something in his ear will probably make him fall to the ground gasping for breath lmao

doesn’t really tickle his friends a lot. he might give someone light tickles as a playful move, but he’s not a person who pins someone down and goes to town on them

ok wow i had way too much fun with this sjdhfkshdfkjsh

quick reminder!!!

requests are open right now! i do headcanons, scenarios, and super short drabbles at the moment! please read the guidelines first, and you can request things here!

#free!#free! headcanons #free! text #text #headcanons #haruka nanase #makoto tachibana #nagisa hazuki #rei ryuugasaki #rin matsuoka #sousuke yamazaki

20 notes · View notes

theburningsensationofpoetry · 5 years ago

Text

Danatole: non-thoughtful man and the drunk

((I had a prompt sent to me and then I totally went against it, I don’t have a lot of experience with writing so please be kind. There’s not a lot of danatole fics))

Anatole was sitting in his study, reading poetry when he was a kid. Some old books that Hélène used to read him.

See Anatole did this when he was upset, he went back to the good ole days. The days when his sister would kiss him night, the days when he didn’t have consequences for his actions, days when everything was better.

For Anatole had ran from his best friend the previous day. His best friend, Dolokhov has confessed feelings of unholy desire to Anatole. Freya had confessed love to Anatole.

Anatole yelled and screamed at him. Dolokhov took it and told him to think about it. And think about it he did. He thought and Anatole came to a conclusion this morning. That he did not want to think about it. He wanted things to return to normal.

It had been almost 24 hours. It was 8:00 in the morning and all Anatole planned to do was read and ignore his thoughts. All of them. He pretended it was just the usual, just like every day.

Anatole picked up the next small novel and the next and the next. Soon a whole day had passed.

It was a quarter till 12 when he heard a knock on his door.

“Allez-y, come in!” Anatole called out closing his book.

A maid slid in with a smile on her face “My prince, Hélène is here with a friend.”

“Oh, let her in, I’m not busy!” Anatole smiled letting himself indulge his novel, not caring for his sisters nonsense. He could definitely use a distraction. His sister was the perfect person.

The maid smiled. She curtsied and proceeded to leave the room.

Then not 5 minutes later Hélène walked into the room with Dolokhov, looking mighty furious. Dolokhov was clinged over Hélène, wrapped around like a wounded animal.

“Found this drunken man at the bar. Could you care to explain why?” Hélène shifted dropping Dolokhov, who proceeded to the floor laughing. “This man will not share anything besides your name and babbling nonsense.”

Dolokhov was laughing and fumbling around. He was trying to get up, but once he did he fell again. He was drunk, so very drunk.

“That man who’s laughing on the floor, needs to be away from me for now. I don’t want to see him.” Anatole spat with fire. He stood from his desk pointing and thrashing his hands around at his dear sister as he spoke “I don’t want to be around Dolokhov.”

“Please Anatole I’m tired, Pierre found him when he was out getting his drinks. We are tired of this child of a man.”

The blonde French man glared at his sister, he did not want to meet eyes with that scrowndral.

“I do not wish to be near Dolokhov right now.”

“Anatole-“

“H-he's right ya know!” Dolokhov said through his laughs. the man stood up, trying to stand tall “If I was him I’d never want to see me again! I barely want to see me as it is!”

Anatole batted an eye at Dolokhovs statements but didn’t say a word.

“Anatole please whatever happened between you two, take him. Just help him. He is in misery.” She smoothed her gown and walked away.

“Where are you going?!”

“Home! I need a drink myself.”

Anatole could not believe the situation he was in. He couldn’t imagine what Pierre and Hélène had to deal with. But with what had happened in the past 24 hours he’s not sure what.

Sighing, Anatole retrieved Dolokhov into his arms. Dolokhov was a heavy man. He is a good 5’11 and weighs about 173. While Anatole is a 6’0 man but has the weight of a limp noodle. Anatole is trained in many things, but he did lack upper body strength sadly.

“Dolokhov-god-Move your legs!” Anatole shrieked almost falling.

Dolokhov did not respond verbally, he just moved his legs weakly.

Anatole guided him up each step of his stairs, carefully entering his room.

“You can walk the rest of the way. You can sleep

On my bed.”

“Lovely.” Dolokhov preceded to hiccup as he crashed on Anatoles bed.

Anatole pulled out a chair and watched as Dolokhov put his nasty wet shoes into his bed.

“If your going to lounge around my house please kindly take off your coat and shoes, they’re filthy.” He seethed grasping his temples. He was so annoyed. He didn’t know why, but he just was.

Dolokhov took off his shoes and his coat. He shivered and pulled a blanket over himself. Anatole watched annoyed at this weak display his friend was showing.

Dolokhov pushed his head out of the blankets and let out a wet cough.

Anatole softened, his facial features relaxing. “Do you feel ill freya?” Anatole May have been upset at his friend, but it wasn’t to the point of not caring for his health.

Dolokhov nodded in response, coughing once more.

“Anatole I don’t feel so well.” Dolokhov groaned coughing more violently. Suddenly Dolokhovs eyes opened wide and he sprang up from the bed. “Bucket! Bucket! I’m going to t-throw up.” Dolokhov urged motioning to a small bucket filled with discarded papers.

Anatole let out a fierce groan and threw the bucket into his friend's lap.

The sick man let out two loud coughs, before hurling into the bucket. It lasted for one minute and soon he collapsed back, gasping for breath.

Dear Anatole sucked up courage. He picked up the bucket, almost vomiting himself from the smell and threw it out for the maid to handle later.

“That was utterly repulsive.” Anatole muttered. Soon he looked to his side to see freya on his side, looking visibly upset. No tears, but sad.

“Dolokhov..” Anatole sat down in the chair once more “I know it takes a lot to make you drunk. Why did you drink this much?”

Dolokhovs eyes did not move, they stayed focused. To avoid Anatoles eyes.

Dolokhov had to be upset. He deserved to be. He let out his heart and the fear of being killed for it was terrifying.

“Dolokhov. Did you think I was going to turn you in?”

Dolokhov shook his head.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?”

Dolokhov shook his head again.

“Did you think I was going to leave you?”

Dolokhov paused. Then he nodded. “Anatole. You don’t u-understand. I know your not the man to hurt me nor get me arrested. But your a man to leave. And to leave would hurt me most.” Dolokhov moved to his other side away from Anatoles gaze.

“Dolokhov, I wouldn’t leave you. That’s absurd! Your an amazing friend. A best friend. I’m not going to leave. I just…I just need time to think. I have many thoughts running through my mind.”

“That’s the first time you thought about anything.” He laughed.

“Because it’s you...Dolokhov. Get rest. You need it.”

Dolokhov was already fast asleep. Snoring.

Anatole however was not, he only slept a mere 3 hours that night.

He thought and thought and thought. He tossed and turned on his sofa.

If he was to be infatuated with Dolokhov, he would be guaranteed happiness until he was bored again.

If he was to reject the poor man, he’d give a man grief for the rest of his days.

Maybe not grief. Maybe the man would grow to live without him. And leave.

He didn’t want that.

Anatole felt something close to what he felt with his previous lovers. However, it felt completely different. He felt warmth and happiness. But he also felt ice and fear. Anatole could hear the birds sing and people scream. It was absolutely exciting yet terrifying.

Anatole couldn't figure out what was different.

He didn’t want to lose Dolokhov, Anatole felt like Dolokhov would pack up and leave just to tell him that he respects his descuo

‘I don’t want Dolokhov to leave.’

Anatole bolted straight up. That’s the difference with what he’s feeling. He knew Dolokhov. The pain, scars, fear, trauma, stupid descuons. He knew it. And he loved every inch of it.

All the fighting, all the dances, and everything. Anatole loved Dolokhov for him.

Anatole stayed up thinking more and more. Every laugh, the mischief, all of it he loved every inch of it.

The books he was reading, it was all about love. Was he in love with Fredya? Love was pain and healing all at once. Is that what he was feeling with Dolokhov?

Soon the morning came and Dolokhov awoke groaning. Anatole rushed to his aid.

“Come now, what do you need?”

“Anatole?”

“Long story, what do you need?”

“Um…water?” Dolokhov sat up immediately regretting that choice, he clutched his head with his left hand and frowned.

Anatole went down to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water.

When he went back up he saw Dolohkov laying covering his eyes with his arm.

“Here’s your water.” Anatole handed the water over to Dolohkov.

“Thanks.”

Dolokhov sipped on the water for 5 minutes. It was an awkward, until he finally spoke.

“So how did I get here? I don’t remember a thing”

“Hélène. she found you drunk.”

“Why’d she bring me here?”

“She was annoyed? And plus what’s wrong with, here?”

“Anatole, you don’t reciprocate feelings of my kind. That is what’s wrong.”

“She doesnt know I don’t blame her for taking you here” Anatole shifted uneasy. He was really bad at talking to Dolokhov. He didn’t have the right words to say.

Dolokhov got up and put on his boots.

“Where are you going?” Anatole inquired latching onto Dolokhovs arm.

“Home. you need to be left alone. For the time being or indefinitely.”

“What no!” Anatole shrieked unmanly.

“What?”

“Listen i-I.” He took a breath in. “I don’t know how to feel exactly. I’m not sure exactly what it is but it’s not friendship. It’s not hate. I think it’s love. B-But! It’s different. It’s not Natasha, or my many many other lovers.”

Anatole pauses that sounded bad. He smiled uneasily.

“The point is that I think I’m in love with you. Your smile, your scars, you laugh, I love it all. And i don’t want to rush it. So c-can we start from the beginning?”

Dolokhov looked up at Anatole with a harsh glare before softening as Anatole put his hand out. Dolokhov started for a moment, only a moment, before he spoke.

“Fine, it’s only because your cute.” Dolokhov shook his hand, admiring the blush that ran up to Anatoles face. Anatole didn’t really know what to say, he’s not really used to his best friend/now lover? Flirting with him back. They’ve kissed before sure, but every man had kissed their best friend. It was like common knowledge. He did the best thing he could do, talk out his ass.

“Your one to talk.” Anatole laughed. Not his best, but it was the best he could manage. God he felt red and nervous.

Freya clutched his head and hiccuped. Dolokhov groaned and anatole started laughing.

“It’s not funny!”

“You got a hangover so you have to suffer.”

“I hate you.”

Dolokhov took off his boots and layers in the bed once again. Anatole joined him this time.

“Hi.” Anatole snuggled up awkwardly into Dolokhov

“Hi. This is very awkward.”

“Very.”

“But it's a start.”

“Yeah a start.”

#danatole #the great comet of 1812 #the great comet #anatole #anatole kuragin #fedya dolokhov #fyodor dolokhov #dolokhov #fredya #fyodor

12 notes · View notes

lets-break-free-from-our-chains · 6 years ago

Text

“Your Mother Loved You, Evangeline.”

A/N: Alright people! Its definitely has been a hot minute, and I will be the first one to admit to that. Couple of things had been going on. My father recently pass away at the very end of march and I’ve dealing with severe depression and anxiety. My doctor, however, find meds that work for me and I have felt significantly better. I think I ready to dive back into my writing again. Lol, anyways this can be considered a one-shot but really it’s a small piece of the whole. This will be a Multi part story. though I don’t know how me parts yet.

SUMMARY: Eve confiding in her shadow-mate, Alec Lightwood, about her insecurities and doubts concerning her mother(Celine)’s true feelings towards her; Jocelyn and Imogen erase said doubts, and afterwards Eve finds that a new and more deep true love has begun to blossom for her biological mother.

Warning(s): Major Sadness in the beginning and middle, Possible trigger; so read at your own risk, Major fluff and love in the 3rd and final part of the story, Alec being a real cheeseball for his mate, Alec is his own warning.

BETTER MORE DETAILED SUMMARY WHEN I RELEASE OC’S BIO/DESCRIPTION!!! This Multi-Part story will be about The City of Bones Movie(2013) Alec lightwood/OC(Evangeline Josephine Herondale-Fray) and will later on in the story be known as Evangeline Josephine Herondale-Lightwood. Eve is one of the two Herondale Children who were both thought lost and worst but mostly likely dead. Raised from the time she was 2 to 18 years old by her Godmother, Jocelyn Fray, Eve Fray is a girl who knows her true identify as a Herondale but has been warned since she was little that revealing her identify could lead to her death and the death of everyone she loves. The only other person who has any inkling of who she truly is, is her Shadow-mate Alec Lightwood. With the new discovery of her shadow-mate; the stakes have risen to impossible heights, and she’ll do anything to save him from the dangerous path she’s been given no choice to run on. AU!The Mortal Instruments where every Shadowhunter is born with their shadow-mates name placed on their bodies.

DISCLAIMER: I ABSOLUTELY ADORE MALEC! I am in no way homophobic! I am actually apart of the LGBTQ myself! This is just one of the many stories from my imagination that I have decided to share with everyone, that also have a passion for reading and writing. Also, I mean come on! Both versions of Alec Lightwood are fucking hot! Don’t say you haven’t thought of him like that at least one time! anyways, ENJOY!

Word Count: 2670

Eve clung to Alec's shirt like a child while crying. Alec had moved them to their shared bedroom where he knew Eve would feel less vulnerable. Alec knew if there was one thing his mate hated most; it was the feeling of vulnerability. She continued to cry and cling to him as they laid on the king sized bed, and every wail released into the air by his inconsolable mate, was like pythons wrapping themselves around Alec's heart. Each one physically hurt him as Alec couldn't bare to see his mate in such distress. He tightened his muscular arms around her protectively as she calmed herself enough to speak.

"Why did she give me away to Jocelyn like that, I mean did she finally decide she didn't want me?" Eve hiccupped into Alec's, broad leather covered, chest. "Did she not love me enough or at all for that matter?"

Eve felt pained yet relieved as soon as she said it. Almost like a giant burden, bigger than she originally thought, was lifted off her chest. Alec buried his face in her golden mane while pulling her even closer, if that was possible at all. A sudden, familiar feminine, voice startled both the young adults.

"She loved you so much she had to let you go. No matter how much it pained her, and believe me it pained her, greatly." Jocelyn spoke, gently. "If it wasn't the circle member's blade that killed her first; then it was without a doubt her broken heart, from losing her beloved Evangeline, that killed her."

Eve began to sit up while wiping away her tears and Alec followed suit in sitting up while rubbing her back, comfortingly. She noticed, her grandmother, Imogen by Jocelyn's side, wearing a tender sympathic expression. Eve threw a sad confused look towards them both, "What do you mean, Joc?"

Jocelyn sighed, softly, while looking at the floor, "May we come in?", she spoke, as she looked back up. Alec and Eve both nodded their consent before both women entered the room, slowly, and Jocelyn took a seat on the left end of the bed while Imogen to the right. Imogen laid her hand on Eve's lower leg and stroked it comfortingly while Jocelyn proceeded to tell her what exactly happened.

"The night Valentine planned to attack Herondale Manor," She began, while Alec and Eve listened intently. "I accidentally overheard him talking to Blackthorn and Pangborn an hour or so beforehand about his plans and when exactly he planned to head towards Herondale Manor. He planned to raid the house for information, kill Celine, and kidnap you and your unborn brother." She stopped short, and made a small indistinctive noise while cocking her head to the side and slightly shaking it. As if she was uncomfortable with her thoughts.

Jocelyn looked slightly sick as she spoke the next sentence, "He planned to kill your mother and cut your baby brother from her womb, and said that you if were more trouble than you were worth than he would kill you and make do with only your brother use." Alec and Eve couldn't stop the loud gasps and looks of horror and shock that crossed their faces while Jocelyn nodded in agreement. Alec instinctively pulled Eve closer at the thought of any danger to his mate; past, present, or future. Everyone looked at Imogen as she made a inaudible strangled noise in the back of her throat and pushed her shoulders down and back. All while wearing a pained expression. Jocelyn looked more intently to Imogen, who still looked in pain, but never the less waved her hand for Jocelyn to continue.

Jocelyn turned back to Eve and looked her in the eyes. "Both of you, brace yourself, because the story will only because more horrifying and grievous." Both young adults nodded and Jocelyn continued, "Valentine had already sent a few circle members to Herondale manor to hold Celine and you captive until Valentine got there. I realized that if I left right then than I could beat Valentine to Herondale Manor and possibly save all three of you before more circle members arrived. So I rushed to the Manor and when I got there I saw that the members Valentine sent ahead were already there. all of them were dead, except two as the thought didn't occur to them that even if Celine was 8 months pregnant there might still be a fight." Eve smiled slightly at that before Jocelyn continued on; "One of them had accidentally stabbed her and she was losing blood fast. too fast. I don't know where the other two had run off too. Most likely afraid of the repercussions by Valentine for the mistake they made. I found her in your destroyed nursery laying on the floor right next to your crib." Both Eve and Jocelyn eyes were tearing up and Eve's hand tightened on Alec's without realizing. While Alec and Imogen could do nothing, looking between the two women before them, sadly.

Jocelyn cleared her throat; "I found her laying right next to your crib and you...you were crying. Screaming bloody murder, are better yet more bitter words to describe your cries. Crying and screaming so hard you had crocodile tears pouring down your cheeks and your face was a shade of bright red I'd never seen before. They say first love's heartbreak is the worst heartbreak. Those people don't know what they're talking about. Not for one second." Jocelyn lets out a short quiet sob as silent tears roll down everyone's faces. "Nothing breaks your heart like hearing a babe wail and scream for their dying mother, and if that sight wasn't enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. Then, the sight of her bloody hand reached through the bars of your crib to hold your tiny hand while singing your favorite lullaby, was enough to do so." Eve shut her eyes as tears rapidly slid down her face, and her body violently shook.

"Your mother was minutes or less away from dying and the only thing she cared about was making your pain and crying stop. Once I reached her side she looked up at me and begged me to take you and Clary, who I was still pregnant with at the time, and runaway to safety. So Valentine could never use either of you for his own personal ambitions. It was her dying wish that, as your godmother, I did everything in my power to keep you; alongside Clary, completely safe from Valentine." Jocelyn, who was still crying, looked Eve in the eyes.

"I pulled you from the crib and put you in your mother's arms one last time, and you stopped crying long enough for your mother to say her last words to you. Her last words were; ‘I love you and your brother more than anything in the world. You are the reason I haven't flung myself from one of the demon towers by now. Out of all the hard moments I've lived through in my life; the hardest moment would without a doubt be, the moment I realized I could do nothing to stop the fact that the angel has given me no say or choice in leaving you all alone in the world. My Evangeline, you and your brother are the only things I’ve ever done right in this world. I love you...Goodbye, my Evangeline.’ A few Moments later she died with you in her arms. I knew the exact moment she died because it was she same moment you began to scream again. I knew I had to stay quite a few steps ahead of Valentine, so I took you from Celine's arms and said my farewells. The farther I got away from your mother the harder and louder you began to wail, if that was even possible." Finally, Jocelyn voice broke on the last sentence. Eve turned into Alec and buried her face in his chest, balling her eyes out. The only thing muffling her harsh cries being his chest as he held her close and buried his face in her seemingly endless locks.

"Your mother loved you, Evangeline. You were enough for her. You were wanted, more than anything else in the world, by your Mother. It wasn't the circle, the academy, her friends, or your father that kept her going as long as she did. It was you and when your baby brother was conceived. It was you and him who kept her going. Nothing and no one else. Just you and him." Jocelyn smiled through her tears at Eve. "Never again doubt your mother's love, want, or need for you. That's one of the few things in your life you will never have to question under any circumstances.

She finally pulled away from Alec's chest and looked at Jocelyn and Imogen. Eve's cheeks, nose, and eyes were bright red, but somehow she still managed to appear angelic in beauty. "Thank you Jocelyn, and Thank you Grandmother. I know it doesn't look like it but I do feel better now that my previous doubts are now a thing of the past." Eve pulled away from Alec to hug both of them, spending a few moments longer in her grandmother's warm embrace. She pulled away and immediately moved back into Alec arms. Jocelyn and Imogen moved to leave the room, but before Imogen closed the door she turned3 to Eve and spoke; "OH, and if you want to hear some more stories about you and your mother or you and I that are more uplifting; come see me. I’ll always be happy to tell you a story.

"Grandmother, how many stories can you have? I was two and a half when I left." Eve laughed, and playfully rolled her eyes. Imogen looked at Eve in mild disbelief of her question, mouth ajar and her right poised and defined eyebrow arched.

"Your joking, aren't you? Little angel, you may have only been in this world two and a half, but believe me when I say you are your father's daughter. Combine that with the bull headed trait you got from your mother, and that's a recipe for some good stories about you and mischief managed escapades." Imogen nodded her head once, firmly, and Alec sniggered before replying to Imogen.

"I think I'll be coming to your office more often to hear some of those stories, Inquisitor."

Imogen smiled at him, "Please, your my little angel's shadow mate and will soon enough be married to her with my great grandchildren on the way, call me Imogen. I insist." Alec looked surprised and at a loss of words for a moment before he cleared his throat and gave a soft smile.

"You honor me. Thank you, Imogen." Imogen smiled in return and pivoted on the heels of her feet before closing the door and making her way down the hall.

Eve sat in a daze for a moment before getting off the bed and crossing the room to her vanity. She sat down in the vanity chair, and looked in the mirror with her eyes unfocused. Her mother truly did love and want her. Her mother’s last words would forever be burned into her mind. That one sentence, though. 'My Evangeline, you and your brother were the only things I ever did right in this world.' My Evangeline. My Evangeline. My Evangeline. That's what her mother called her. Her Evangeline. Eve could only imagine how sweet the words would sound and the way the words would fall from her mother's lips.

Her mother is probably the only person she would ever one hundred percent be okay with calling her by her full first name. It's not that she doesn't like her name. She actually finds it quite beautiful, but when she was little all the kids would tease her for having such a old fashioned, and uncommon for the area they lived in, name. Well, Eve would pick having the name Evangeline Josephine any day over being the 10th Tyler or Jake of her grade level. At least, Eve would know when the teacher was addressing her and not some half-wit on the other side of the room in the middle of picking their nose with a green crayon.

she used to hate when people would call her by her full first name. However, now the one thing she's desires most in the world at the moment is to hear her mother say those two words. My Evangeline. Her Evangeline. Eve still stuck in her daydream sighed, deeply. She soon enough came back to reality, and her line of vision focused once more. She focused on her reflection in the vanity mirror and took in her current state.

She gently touch the puffy area around her nose and golden eyes before running her hands through her ample amount of long loose curls, and dropping them on the vanity table that seemed to be overflowing with make up and hair care products. Eve heard movement behind her and looked up in the mirror to see Alec making his way over to her. He came right up behind her, and tenderly grabbed her shoulders. He massaged said shoulders while speaking;

"I seriously don't know how you so effortlessly do it, but you grow more beautiful, sexy, and strong everyday. My beautiful strong sexy mate." His full lips, lovingly kissed the crown of her head. Thank goodness her cheeks were already red that way she didn't have to show her blush. However, even if her blush didn't give her away the almost bashful look on her face and the slight duck of her head while casting her eyes to the side did the trick. She normally would flirt back with Alec but in her state with the puffy red eyes and nose and all the vulnerability she's felt for the pass few days, who wouldn't have a shy response to such a bold flirtatious comment.

Alec didn't have to flirt with her especially now that they completed the mate ceremony and placed the forever binding mating runes on each other, but it still felt good to know he enjoyed flirting with her because he found her beautiful and sexy. Nothing feels as good as knowing your true shadow-mate still finds you as beautiful and sexy as the first time he met you and is willing to put in the extra effort. Eve played off the shy moment by turning around in the chair, and kneeled in the seat while, ever so lightly, brushing her fingers up his strong arms to wrap her arms around his strong and broad shoulders. Alec wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her body flush against his.

"Why, I didn't know I had such a cheeseball for a mate." Eve giggled. Alec smiled, sweetly and laughed,

"You thought that was cheesy? Well then, allow me to sweep you off your feet, future Mrs. Lightwood." Eve, playfully, 'oohhh' at challenge with interest. Alec picked her up and rested her legs around his waist.

"You are the most gorgeous." Eve gasped, "The most adorably cute." Eve gasped, again. " The most insanely intelligent." she gasped, loudly, once more. "the most Desirably sexy." she let out a pleased noise. "Strong independent woman any man with half a brain could ask for." Eve gasped the loudest out of all the ones she gave before replying, "oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby!"

Alec threw his head back as he laughed before speaking; "Yeaaahhh." He drawls out, in a sexy voice, "And your all mine." he growled out possessively before 'attacking' her neck. Eve gave a content 'mmhmm' in agreement as he laid them both on the bed and proceed to snuggle one another.

The past few days for Eve may have been hard, but it was all worth in the end. Moments like these were what made it worth it. Moments with her Alec Lightwood.

44 notes · View notes

kingofthewilderwest · 6 years ago

Note

Don't worry, I take over my sleep time to read and write fanfictions. I wouldn't have time otherwise! I have an entire Word page with only links to fanfictions I still have to read! And it's all right to not read fanfictions if you don't want to. It's just an hobby among others. Anyway, you wrote fanfictions?? Now I'm curious, could I have a link, if you don't mind? Have a good night too and sorry for my grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language (btw, thank you for the likes

From this. Sorry I’m slow replying!! thanks for your wonderful messages! :)

No worries about grammar! Your English is great, and even if it weren’t, that’s no bother to me either. :) The fact that you’re communicating in a language that isn’t your first… just means you have extra skills and are even more awesome! :)

I love how dedicated you are to looking at others’ fanfictions, even creating a Word document page to make sure you remember them. That’s beautiful and cool. And I’m getting curious about what you’ve written, too!

Thanks so much for asking about my fics - this touches me! Sure, I’m happy to share! I tend to post all fics on tumblr and FFN, with FFN being my primary hub. On tumblr I use the tag #my fanfiction and tag all stories by their title. My FFN profile is kingofthewilderwest.

I’m so so so so so SO touched when anyone reads or interacts with my fics (though since I write casually, I ask no constructive criticism

THE VIGILANTE’S WAR

HTTYD. YEAR: 2014. LENGTH: 57,110 WORDS. A mysterious, antagonistic dragon rider dubbed “the Vigilante” crosses paths with Hiccup, and her increasingly violent actions appear to be leading to war against Berk.

He tightened his hands, loosened them again. Breathed in, breathed out. He could feel himself stooped in the dirt, his shoulders hunched over his head, his knees buried in the ground and tucked underneath his torso. His neck was bent low close to the earth, providing him a good view of his hands and the ground and nothing else.

Well, and the blood.

That can’t possibly be all mine.

- PROLOGUE: FROM OUT OF THE HAZE

HTTYD 2′s original drafts had Valka as the main antagonist. I found this so interesting that I decided to rewrite HTTYD 2 - with a few of my own spins - on this concept. One of my most well-known fics, “The Vigilante’s War” is where I’ve gotten the most thorough reviews and most emotional reactions.

THE VIGILANTE’S LEGACY

HTTYD. YEARS: 2014-2016. LENGTH: 20,546 WORDS. There’s been four years of war between three factions. Drago’s army. The Vigilante and her dragons. Berk and their allies. But now, Chief Hiccup believes there’s a way to end the conflict. Sequel to “The Vigilante’s War.”

Hiccup spoke up. Cleared his voice. Tapped his pointer finger apprehensively on the cell’s iron door. “You said we were making a mistake.” Might as well speak straight to the point of his visit. “Something about ‘you and every one of your warriors are making a mistake’ or – or something like that.”

For a moment Hiccup wondered if Valka actually would reply. The calculating gaze she gave him from the corner of her prison certainly did not seem a positive sign. However, then, with a steady, lilting cadence to her voice, she succinctly affirmed, “I did.” Just those two words. Nothing more.

- VIII. THE MISTAKES OF WAR

It’s unfinished; I haven’t updated because I ran out of steam and didn’t receive enough reader feedback encouraging me to continue. Though I did have a very vivid final chapter in mind… that I still love… which I never got to…?

MEMOIRS

HTTYD. YEARS: 2015-2016. LENGTH: 44,289 WORDS. My ongoing collection of drabbles for HTTYD. Angst, pain, comfort, humor, crossovers, crack, it’s all there. Favorites include “Family Portrait,” “Stubble,” “Buffcup the Brawny,” and “Remember When.”

He held her hand softly, one wrinkled hand laid gently on top of another. It was just her and him now in the house all alone – for their children had left on a voyage with the grandkids, and would not be back for a week yet, if even two. It evoked the quietness of the old days, back before they were old, back during the times when they were newlyweds and younger even than their grandchildren were today. Oh, but the smell of her hair was just as refreshing now as when it was blonde.

- REMEMBER WHEN

DINNER AT DRAGON’S EDGE

HTTYD. YEAR: 2015. LENGTH: 5,452 WORDS. The gang’s settling in at Dragon’s Edge. To make sure everything operates smoothly, Hiccup suggests a chore rotation system. That means everyone has to do their fair share of the cooking… but it doesn’t mean everyone is a fair cook.

“Oh my gods, is this dinner or what the rats threw away?” Snotlout exclaimed, terrified at the Unidentified Edible Object before him.

Tuffnut picked it up with one experimental hand and held it out before him at a safe distance. People would have held poisonous snakes or bloodied torture devices more cheerily. Squinting his eyes and peering carefully at the peculiar specimen pinched between his fingers, rubbing under his chin with his other, free hand, Tuffnut remarked, “Looks something like what Barf and Belch poop out after they get sick and…”

- 1. ASSIGNING JOBS

This humorous fic I think is where I do best capturing HTTYD character personalities and interactions.

[SUPER]HERO THE HARD WAY

HTTYD. YEARS: 2014-2017. LENGTH: 86,566 WORDS. In a modern world where Berk is full of superheroes battling the League of Outcasts, power-less Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third struggles to receive appreciation for who he is. Through his crime-fighting journey, Hiccup learns that, while he might not have powers, he can become a Hero the Hard Way.

“I wasn’t born with anything. Don’t have anything. I’m the son of Chief Stoick “Skullcrusher” and I don’t have anything. Not even a superpower to turn objects purple. Which frankly would be completely pointless but at least it would have been something.“

He realized he was babbling and promptly shut his mouth. He looked over at Fishlegs, who appeared to be wordlessly processing the information. The teenager appeared baffled moreso than anything else, which at least meant he was not outright rejecting him.

“So you’re going to train to be a superhero… and you don’t have any powers? I got that right?”

“You got that right.”

“Wow.” Fishlegs said.

Hiccup waited for more.

“That’s actually really cool.”

- CHAPTER THREE: SIDEKICKED

This started as me intending to write one crack chapter. It turned into me envisioning a ROB / DOB modern AU where all characters were superheroes. The final product became a retelling of HTTYD 1′s basic concept: Hiccup gaining his peers’ approval despite being different. Somehow, despite me 70% adlibbing by the seat of my pants (should I be admitting this?), I had great fun. And it brought in the most reviews, follows, and favorites of any of my posted stories! Thanks for the reads and support, everyone!!!

RESET OR RESUME

UT. YEAR: 2016-2017. LENGTH: 85,841 WORDS. Gaster’s research unlocks the secret of time travel. After the Royal Scientist’s untimely end, one of Gaster’s colleagues - Sans - finds himself with the power to Reset. Confronted with unpleasant timelines and dangerous choices, Sans must decide how to navigate through time… if it’s worth resetting for a better future, continuing with hope for the present, or simply giving up.

No longer timid and silent, the human happily babbled all sorts of nonsense to Sans, everything from how to bake snow pies to how weird Sans’ skull looked to how beautiful the ribbon in their hair was to their opinions of Papyrus’ ‘battle body’ to how their mom didn’t like the color black to their personal opinion of ferrets to a long narrative of their encounter with a snail-loving old lady they met on the other side of the Ruins door. Everything could be the topic of a conversation. There was no filter and even less sense of restraint for this child.

“How are you a SKELETON?” their happy little high-pitched voice squeaked. They flew gallantly over a twig that rested, flat, on the surface of the snow. Powder flew everywhere as they landed heavily into the snowbank. “That means – that means you should be DEAD, you know!”

“who says i’m not dead?” Sans trolled with a wink.

With a shrieking giggle, they exclaimed, “Don’t be silly! Only ghosts are dead!”

“i could be a skeleton ghost.”

“No you – no you can’t.” The human seemed to be quite confident about their knowledge in paranormal metaphysics. “You can be a skeleton. You can be a ghost. But nobody – NOBODY – can be a skeleton ghost.”

“is that so?”

“YES so! You CAN’T be both. That would be wrong.” Maybe the human mentally categorized skeletons and ghosts as separate Halloween creatures, ensuring they were mutually exclusive concepts. It was always challenging to comprehend a child’s train of logic. “Except…” and now the child paused, leaning down and tugging at the sleeve of their sweater. Something thoughtful – at least as much as one so young could be thoughtful – passed over their eyes. They cocked their head to the side and stared at Sans. In the same sort of innocence with which they had talked about ferrets, the human inquired, “…can ghosts also be dust?”

- 5. KNOCKS [[File 5.2 IH-20150701-3-3]]

I have particular fondness for this fic. I spent more energy and care with this than any other I’ve posted. Drenched it through with UT lore. Edited and revised thoroughly. Had two beta readers examine my ASL for accurate representation. I wrote extensive outlines that were several page long color-coded charts, had all this meticulous structuring going on…

The problem was, this was an impossibly ambitious project. Life got in the way, too. The 85,841 words here aren’t close to the end of Part 1. The final two Parts were going to explain the weirdness within Part 1 (the story doesn’t begin in chronological order - it gets pieced together like a puzzle). What I planned to write would have included a complex characterization arc for Sans, every human child that’s visited the underground, and multiple resets containing main character deaths… until the story would end with Sans confronting Frisk in the Genocide Route.

Hopefully, despite the incompleteness, this is enjoyable from its comedy to its angst! I would at least encourage people to read the first few chapters! Or “Socks” - an entire chapter devoted to Sans and Gaster pulling sock pranks on each other.

SOMEHOW THEY’RE STILL OFFICERS

FMAB. YEAR: 2018-2019. LENGTH: 6,036 WORDS. Ahhhhhh yes. Team Mustang. The hand-selected, elite group of military officers who effectively spend their time… doing nonsense.

Everyone was scrambling at once. Mustang rushed forward to greet their guest, perfect composure only broken by the fast pace at which he moved. In fact the colonel’s posture was almost a proud enough display to make his lack of shirt go unnoticed. But Falman chucked his cards away at the same time he tried to salute; Breda was ducking from Falman’s sudden card shower; Fuery was launching pants and underwear in Havoc’s face; and Lieutenant Hawkeye, obviously abashed to be in this room at all, was covering her eyes with her hand in what was either her life’s longest sigh, or a pathetic attempt to hide her face and identity.

- WE WERE JUST PLAYING CARDS

My collection of FMA drabbles, particularly stories of Team Mustang shenanigans. Prompts / requests welcome for more adventures!

I have a few other drabbles posted, too. I also have unfinished chapters of Voltron fanfictions on my computer that I could share, too? Maybe I should? I’m currently working on several Royai fanfictions, other FMA drabbles, and a longer Deponia fanfiction.

Thank you again for being so nice and connecting with me over fanfiction and fandom and FMA and more. You’re a really wonderful and cool person and you made my day.

31 notes · View notes

littlebookmermaid · 6 years ago

Text

:: httyd3 ending analysis::

It’s taking me a couple of days to come to terms with how the final movie wrapped things up. I think I needed to think for myself, read some criticisms and compare it to the books while slowly putting my thoughts into place. I’ve put it under “read more” because it’s long. If you wanna read and discuss it with me, I would be very excited because I haven’t had anyone to discuss this movie with yet. I also wanna know what other people think about it. So grab a snack and here we go! (Clearly spoilers👇👇👇both from the movies but also from the books) (There’s a tiny conclusion at the end if you don’t wanna read everything)

After all these years of wondering, theorizing and discussion we’ve finally reached the last movie. I can honestly say that I've never gone to the cinema that excited before. I cried, laughed and loved every second. I, as many others, have known about the outcome of the movie for quite some time. Not how it would happen or to what extent, but we knew - the dragons would disappear.

This happens in the books; Hiccup talks to dragon Furious and he accepts Hiccup as a friend of dragons. The dragon trusts him and understands that as long as Hiccup is in charge, dragons will be safe. Hiccup promises the dragon Furious that if humans haven’t changed their ways about dragons when he’s an old man, he will help them hide. This is what happens; over the course of Hiccup’s life dragons and humans live in harmony but more and more dragons disappear into the ocean and some stay while other flies back once in a while. Toothless (a green tiny dragon in the books) eventually stays away longer periods of times. Hiccup reflects in the epilogue that he’s waiting for Toothless to come back for the last time before he’s gone for good (Hiccup is an old man during this and Toothless has started to slowly forget). This is a beautiful written and bittersweet ending to the books; it grips your heart makes (at least my eyes) tear up just thinking about it. Hiccup wins the war in the books. He never gives up, he convinces Dragon Furious that he will make dragons and humans live in peace and they do. But Hiccup still makes sure that the dragons are safe before he dies because they can’t trust the people that comes after him to be as accepting.

This is why most of us expected a smilar ending in the movies. Especially since the trailer showed Hiccup saying “There were dragons when I was a boy-” which is the first line of the first book and the first line in the final book. In the movie, Toothless is drawn to this Hidden world. Hiccup sees that that’s where he belongs and it’s a place where Hiccup can’t follow. I read a criticism that said that Hiccup lost the war in the movie. That he gave up and stopped fighting. In the second movie he says:

“Bit by bit, we will change this world.”

What happened with him wanting to keep fighting for a world where dragons and humans can live together? Why did he just... give up? Why did Toothless agree to fly away? After all these years? In the books, they live together because dragons trusts Hiccup and know what they will be safe as long as he’s there. But in the movie nothing like this happens. So what happened and why?

I had a similar criticism when I watched it, a tiny part of my brain wondered what he was doing and why he didn’t keep fighting? Did he give up?

No. Hiccup never gives up. Hiccup is the opposite of giving up. He will fight for his dragons until the end of time. The difference between the books and the movies is that Hiccup can speak to dragons and they can speak to him. ( called Dragonese) Therefore, Hiccup and dragon Furious can share thoughts, ideas and struggles with each other. But because the movie chose to remove that, the verbal conversation between Hiccup and Toothless are one sided. Toothless is dragon, a wild animal. Even though Hiccup has trained him he’s still a wild dragon who probably have instincts to soar free. Hiccup can’t discuss this with Toothless the way he does with Furious. Hiccup can only see and read his body language. Which is why Hiccup have to be the way to release him and not the opposite.

There’s also another difference from the books. Furious is scared for his sake and the other dragons. He’s afraid for their safety. Toothless doesn’t show that (maybe if Hiccup could understand him they would discuss it) but even if he did, he would never leave Hiccup unless Hiccup set him free. I think we’ve seen enough of their relationship to know that these two would die for each other. Toothless is as loyal as it gets and always have Hiccup’s back. Therefore, Hiccup needs to be the one to let Toothless find his own way. Just like Hiccup says: “You’ve looked after us long enough.” Hiccup and Toothless found each other when they both needed each other. They protected, grew and learned from each other when they were both alone in the world. But just like that; they both grew up. Hiccup had his duties, he became Chief and Toothless found his calling- he’s alpha dragon. He’s suppose to look after all dragons and protect them. They both grew up and now have a duty for their “people”. Their bond will always be there, as we see in the epilogue.

So did Hiccup give up? In Race to the edge, Stoick tells Hiccup that it doesn’t matter if he loses the battle as long as he wins the war. Which is ironic since I just read a critique that that’s exactly what Hiccup did. But I don’t think he lost the war but he didn’t win it either, because the war didn’t end. Because there’s no winners or losers in an ending where two best friends have to separate. Stoick tells Hiccup that with love comes lost - you can’t have one without the other. Hiccup have defeated so many enemies throughout his life - many of them wanted dragons for themselves to use against other humans. He could change the mind of some of them (Viggo, Dagur, Stoick, Berk in general) but there was always a price to be paid because it didn’t happen without loss. I think that Hiccup at the end of HTTYD3 understood that he can’t keep fighting these violent battles because there will always be loss (The leg and his dad comes to mind). Someone (people or dragon) will always get hurt, even though they might win at the end. Which is a prince older Hiccup isn’t ready to pay anymore. He loves Toothless too much to see him or any other dragon get hurt because of them. His fear also comes from the fact that he doesn’t think he could be anything without Toothless but that’s clearly not the case. Just like Astrid tells him:

“You are the bravest, most stubborn, most determined knucklehead I know. Toothless didn’t give you that, he just made it easier.”

Which is why it was so liberating to see him releasing Toothless, not because he wanted too, but because it was the right thing to do. Toothless deserved to find his place in the world with someone he loves just as much as Hiccup. And Hiccup have every opportunity to continue to fight for a peaceful world - and I'm sure he did. I’m sure he had tons of adventures after Toothless. I’m sure he built fantastic inventions and made voyages across the oceans; a bit slower than at the back of a dragon but I'm sure he never stopped moving forward.

If the movie would have ended like the book, we wouldn’t be able to see a sweet good bye scene between them. Because there would have been an epilogue with older Hiccup after a big fight scene and then Toothless would leave? It would probably ruin the flow of the movie so from that perspective; their good bye scene worked better being placed there - even though it hurts.

(TL; DR) So in conclusion; I don’t think Hiccup lost a war but he didn’t win it either, because the war never ended. The most important thing is that he never stopped fighting for a better world and he never forgot his best friend - just like Toothless never forgot him.

#HTTYD 3 spoilers #HTTYD 3 #HTTYD the hidden world #HTTYD 3 analysis #Hiccup #Toothelss #My rants #How to train your dragon #How to train your dragon the hidden world #Astrid

12 notes · View notes

anchinoe · 6 years ago

Text

I Hope You Know That You’re My Home

Also on AO3. Beta read by @mizmahlia :D Follow me on my main blog @kat-astrophic-todd . Chapter 1.

Chapter 2: Don’t Let This Be The End

The memories always seemed to leave him broken. He felt like he was out of his body, an outsider looking at Bruce Wayne from above. He came to himself slowly; first he felt the fabric of his trousers and his vision started to focus. He heard muffled voices, as if he was underwater. His daughter shook his shoulders violently.

“Cassandra?” He furrowed his brow, not knowing what was happening.

“Look,” she pointed sharply at the TV, where Jason’s face was on the news. He felt dizziness taking over his body. He wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

“It seems our wayward bad boy celebrity has been doing more than partying with Prince Harry around Europe these last years.” Vicki Vale smirked at the camera. Bruce had the feeling she was enjoying every second of it. “Yale University couldn’t keep the secret anymore when the graduation ceremony took place and the young Wayne heir went to accept his diploma.”

“Oh, my God.” Bruce heard Dick mutter behind him.

“The young man graduated with honors in Ethics, Politics and Economics,” she kept on, a surprisingly genuine smile on her face. “His teachers say he was the most dedicated student of his class and therefore graduated a year early. The rector tells us he was very adamant on keeping his identity a secret, for reasons we all can imagine.”

Bruce felt her staring right through him.

“And he confirmed Mr. Todd-Wayne has already been offered a position in several companies. We're sure he is going to achieve great things.”

The following headlines were a blur for everyone in the room. No one was bold enough to talk; time had stopped for them.

“Did you know?” Bruce whispered at no one in particular.

His children were as surprised as he was, the only one remaining calm was Alfred. The old man looked up and met his eyes.

“Master Jason might have mentioned college, but he never specified and I certainly wasn’t going to try and pry information from him,” he admitted. Silence fell upon them once again while they let the information sink in.

“But that’s fantastic!” Dick finally shook off the initial surprise and now was openly smiling. He looked so proud and happy that it hurt, looking at him.

Yes, Bruce thought, yes it is.

But as his eldest son left the room to, no doubt, congratulate Jason, he couldn’t shake off the sadness that overcame him. Not because he wasn’t happy or proud, but because he wasn’t allowed to be part of his son’s life anymore. He couldn’t hug him and hold him. He couldn’t pepper his face with kisses or tell him how his success made a warm feeling spread in his chest, making him want to shed happy tears and cry out in joy.

Instead, he had to wait for his kids to take pity and share something about Jason with him. He would have to wait for Jason to give interviews or to resign himself to search on social media for gossip. Pathetic, really.

He would do anything to fix the bond he broke, he would give anything to get his beloved son back. To take his words back. To pause and look and realize how broken his son had been, the pain he carried, the signs he should have seen.

The guilt weighing on Damian’s conscience for not telling him right away what Bruce should have already figured out.

ᴥ

He heard Damian’s light steps seconds before he knocked on the study’s door. Bruce tried to compose himself a little. He wiped his face, combed his hair a little and tried to smooth out the wrinkles on his shirt.

“Come in.” His voice more confident than he felt. He hadn’t slept in days, trying to find Jason, to find any clue about his whereabouts. In moments like this he really hated how intelligent his son was.

“Father,” Damian greeted him absentmindedly. He looked distracted, and nervous. Bruce was exhausted, but he knew his son well.

“Sit down, please.” Damian did as he was told. “Is everything alright?” Bruce knew it wasn’t, but let his eleven-year-old son talk at his own rhythm.

Damian gulped and looked at his designer shoes, not even grazing the floor. He bit his lip and took a deep breath, finally looking at Bruce. He was crying.

“This is-” Damian wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater furiously, squaring his shoulders. He looked too old for his age. Bruce didn’t like it.

“This is all my fault.” His voice broke at the last word, breaking also Bruce’s heart.

“Jason” He hiccupped

“Left. A-and it’s…”

Another hiccup

“All my fault.” His shoulders shook and Bruce stood up and ran to hug his son with force. The child almost clawed at him, grabbing his shirt as if it was a lifeline. The crying worsened.

“Damian,” Bruce couldn’t let the sadness overtake him. Damian needed him now. His boy was breaking down and he needed to be there for him. He clutched him in his arms and whispered on his ear.

“Listen to me, son. This is not your fault, okay? If anything, it’s my fault. I said horrible things to your brother and he…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Bruce blinked away the tears.

“B-but I should have told you,” Damian wailed, curling even more around Bruce.

“Tell me what?” Bruce had a bad feeling. There was something he was missing.

“Jason was having trouble at Gotham Academy.” The kid took a breath, trying to steady himself. “There were boys beating him and calling him names and-” Damian gulped again, “he asked me not to tell you. He said he could deal with it, he didn’t want to worry you. But in September everything was worse and we started fighting because I wanted to tell you so they would stop.”

“Slow down, Damian.” He said softly. Bruce tried to calm down and not think about tearing those bullies to shreds in front of their parents. “Why were they bullying Jason? I thought he was doing okay with the other students.”

“He was,” Damian sighed, “but he liked a boy from the football team and kissed him.” Bruce clenched his jaw, already knowing the rest of the story. “Jason told me they were picking on him for being bisexual. They called him “faggot” and made his life miserable in the training sessions. That’s why he left the team.”

Bruce inhaled sharply through his nose and buried his face on his son’s neck, trying to find some comfort. He knew that anger, clawing from the inside and trying to overcome him. And he wanted to give in so badly. His son had been bullied and humiliated. His boy had been beaten up just because he liked boys and girls. He had been suffering in silence because he didn’t want to worry Bruce. And Bruce had…

What have you done? What the hell have you done?

His son was probably terrified and devastated, alone somewhere, thinking that his father didn’t love him.

Now everything made sense. Why Jason didn’t want to take his senior year, how angry and distant he had become in the course of months. His fights with Damian. The drinking.

If his parents could see him now. How royally he had fucked everything up. They would be so disappointed, so heartbroken.

He had to find Jason and apologize. He needed to know he was alright. Bruce knew this was all his doing. If only he had tried talking to Jason, to understand what was happening to him. If only he would have approached things differently.

If only he had worked to be the kind of person his children could talk to.

ᴥ

Barely a month after Jason graduated, rumors said Lex-Corp had offered him a position. Bruce almost broke his cup of coffee when Lucius told him. Everyone knew how much he hated Lex. He was arrogant and rude and a megalomaniac. He had also tried to destroy Wayne Enterprise ever since Bruce told him exactly that in a gala, years ago. In front of two hundred people.

Nothing good seemed to happen at galas. Bruce wondered if it would be so terrible to stop attending. Alfred and Lucius would probably find a creative way to make his life a living hell.

And then, Jason was caught on camera. Someone asked about the rumors.

“Considering the ties between Talia and Lex Luthor, are you considering the Lex-Corp’s offer? What does your father think?” the journalist asked at the speed of light.

Jason seemed to take some time to answer, flashes blinding him.

“Working for Luthor?” The young man furrowed his brow and then smirked, “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to Oliver.”

That had fueled Bruce’s anger. He hadn’t even addressed him. He had just jumped right to Oliver Queen. It was clear that Jason wanted to make sure Bruce knew he wasn’t one of his priorities.

That hurt, he had to admit. And he almost expected Jason to start working at Queen Industries, but no. His son was never one to half-ass shenanigans.

Almost a year after the whole scandal and subsequent harassment from the press, Bruce found out what his son had been up to the whole time. And the one who told him this time was none other than his cousin.

“What?” Bruce barked in shock.

“Yep,” Kate leaned back in the chair, resting her feet on Bruce’s desk. “The kid is hiring Kane Enterprises for the security and transport. Dad thought he was joking when he told us he was building his own company.” She laughed. She had always liked Jason, his straightforwardness and his honesty. “They grow up so fast.”

“What did you tell him?” He was still processing the information.

“What do you think?” she deadpanned. “What? You wanted me to refuse my favorite nephew’s offer?” she huffed. Kate had started joking about Jason being his favorite after he came out publicly.

ᴥ

“So, what can you tell us about your rumored affair with Connor? What can you tell us about your sexuality?” Vicki asked Jason.

“Why should I talk about it? Do I ask you about the time you were with my father?” Jason had been building up the anger during the whole interview. Bruce was almost surprised he hadn’t lashed out when the questions about the family didn’t stop coming.

“You’re free to talk about that. You’re free to hate him. My sexuality is not the only thing I am. I should be free, too, to decide where and when I talk about it. Just like you are free to talk about me and my family whenever and wherever you please.” And then he stood up and left the set.

A couple of days after, he tweeted about the whole incident: “i’m sorry if i was harsh the other day @VickiV”

And then: “for all the lgbt people supporting me: you are the loveliest and i’m fucking PROUD of being bisexual”

After the whole thing, he did an interview with Lois Lane, who wouldn’t normally cover those kinds of things, but made an exception because her husband was Bruce’s best friend. And she loved Jason.

It was clear that Jason was totally relaxed around Lois. He trusted her with his life. He also knew that her interview would be far more serious and hard. On that set, Lois lane was journalist first and friend second. And he seemed to respect that.

She tread lightly on the family topic and gave Jason the freedom to choose not answer certain questions (like the ones regarding why he left) and then talked in-depth about how hard it’s been for him to accept his sexuality and the biphobia outside a within the LGBT community.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Lois asked with a smile.

“Well, I want to apologize again to Vicki Vale. I may not always agree with how she does her job, but I know I didn’t handle the situation well.” He sighed. “And I want to thank my siblings and Alfred for being there, supporting me and making sure I was okay when all of this blew up. Especially Damian.” He smiled sadly at the camera.

It was clear that Lois wanted to point out the omission of Bruce in the sentence, but they ended the interview there.

ᴥ

After that, Kate had declared how proud she was of her nephew to anyone who asked about him. Bruce was jealous of her, in a way. She could express her feelings without the press questioning them or Jason getting angry at her for talking about him.

There had been pics of her and Jason going out in Star City and Metropolis. Bruce never asked. Kate told him Jason was fine and happy, anyway. He loved her for it, and she knew him enough to read it on his face when he teared up. She would always ruffle his hair and joke about something else, like she did when they were younger.

Now, seated in front of him with her immaculate red hair in a bob, she smiled like that to him again. As if she was giving him the time to catch up on his feelings and decide what he would do next.

“How is he doing it?” Bruce knew for a fact that Jason wasn’t spending his Wayne money on it. He made very clear that he didn’t want anything to do with the fortune. It annoyed Bruce more than he wanted to admit. He was supposed to take care of his children, he wanted them to use his money to build their lives. It was their money, too. The fact that Jason was probably using Queen’s money didn’t help, either.

“I think Talia lent him the money,” Kate started carefully. Bruce’s relationship with Talia was rocky, at best. “He did mention a partner.”

Jason didn’t have a nice childhood, and because of that he usually didn’t trust men. But women… he nearly worshipped them. They were superior creatures to him, part of why he was so close to Cassandra.

And because of that, he never disrespected Talia or judged her. Dick and Tim, and even Cassandra, weren’t very fond of her and how her relationship with Bruce ended. But Jason had always been nothing but respectful to her. He would often linger in the room she was when she came to visit Damian. He listened intently to her stories of conquerors and traditional oriental tales. Talia was clearly fond of him and, eventually, she became attached.

She would take Damian and Jason on holiday trips and art auctions. She once bought a first edition for Jason. He wouldn’t stop smiling for nearly a week. They had their own traditions, like their yearly travel to Nanda Parbat, or celebrating Talia’s birthday, just the three of them. Damian started looking up to Jason; they formed their very own family. In the end, Bruce was sure both Talia and Jason considered each other mother and son, in some way.

That’s why Kate’s guess was most likely true.

It seemed everyone got to parent his son, except him.

He had to fix that, somehow.

“Please, keep me informed,” he told Kate. It was the first time he asked her to do something when it came to Jason.

“I know that look, Bruce.” She shook her head in defeat. “Whatever you’re planning, it better not blow up on your face. Because the last thing we need is for Jason to run away from the family. Again.”

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #ao3 #batfamily #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc #comics #cassandra cain #kate cain #damian wayne #talia al ghul

15 notes · View notes

howtodrawyourdragon · 6 years ago

Text

The Sound of Silence: Chapter 1

Summary: An alternate ending to 'Dire Straits'. Hiccup seemed fine when they returned to Berk. All he needed was to rest and stay warm. Fatal complications soon arise. A deathfic requested by @ashleybenlove and @bitter-feat-dragons.

Author’s Notes: This idea was spawned while watching @hello-em75‘s Httyd 3 countdown stream two weeks ago when the episode ‘Dire Straits’ from RttE season 4 arrived.

Also-

"I'm excited for the one where he dies" - @ashleybenlove

For a moment, Hiccup did not breathe.

He just lied there on the wooden deck of the ship. Soaked in sea water, limp, still, pale. It was the way they had dragged him out of the diving bell, his own creation, which had been ruined by a Submaripper. It had been riled up by Viggo Grimborn and his men, the Dragon Hunters, in an attempt to get rid of him. An attempt that may be successful.

The Riders all stood there in disbelieve, no one moved a muscle as they simply watched. The dragons, very much an equal part of their team, were quiet and waited for a single sign of life, no matter how small. It were Astrid and Toothless who sat by their leader's side and pleaded for him to awaken.

"Please breathe. Please breathe." Astrid begged with him aloud and with the Gods silently, one hand placed gingerly on his chest. It did not heave.

It would be much too soon for him to go to Valhalla. He was only eighteen years of age, just barely a man, much too young to go, and fighting a war for a cause they thought just. They needed him. She needed him. He couldn't leave them yet.

And what a way it would be for him to go. Not in an epic blaze of glory befitting the Heir of Berk, the Dragon Master, but alone in the dark depths of the ocean, slipping further and further away in the freezing cold, knowing that death was inching closer and unable to do anything about it.

Toothless crooned in desperation as he came closer and nudging with his snout against his Rider, licking his chin, his jaw, his face. As if the action was to remind him how to take a breath.

And he did.

Out of nowhere his body seemed to shock itself back into action. Hiccup's eyes flew open and he began to cough. His lungs were trying to expulse all the water he had breathed in from his system and it was doing it violently so.

Though the Dragon Riders were overwhelmed by relief, each wearing looks of varying degrees, Tuff even sagging against his sister and Fishlegs muttering a quiet 'oh, thank Thor', Astrid fought hers as she helped Hiccup turn onto his side. It was what she had to do to help him keep from choking on the saltwater he had coughed back up.

Toothless warbled in worry as he moved to Hiccup's front, nudging him again as he lied on his side and panted once his lungs had been mostly freed. He had folded in on himself by now, curled up and made himself so small for someone so tall. He trembled terribly and seemed barely aware of his surroundings, staring at his hands. But he was awake. He had made it and for now that was all that mattered.

"Is he...?" Snotlout wasn't sure what he wanted to ask as he and the others approached carefully, the dragons attempting to do so quietly as they came to see how their lead Dragon Rider was doing. Stormfly let out a short chirp.

They only felt truly at ease when Hiccup reached out a shaky hand to settle on Toothless nose, who crooned softly and closed his eyes at the touch.

"Hey, Bud. I'm okay." The Night Fury purred.

"How are you feeling?" Astrid softly asked what they were all wondering and then helped Hiccup sit up with the little bit of strength that he had.

"I'm..." He didn't seem sure what to answer, shaking his head when he didn't find the right words to use. But he was okay, he was breathing, he was awake. That had to mean nothing but good.

Astrid, still kneeled and losing all feeling in her lower legs, rested her hands on Hiccup's shoulder as he found it in himself to smile at her as she did at him, sandwiching a hand between hers. His was chilling to the touch and she noticed that his nails were a worryingly blue colour.

Toothless settled behind the two and roared out his gratitude to the Submaripper, who had stayed at the surface and awaited news on the well-being of the Viking who had freed it. It had also been the one to bring up the diving bell after the metal contraption had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, what had anchored the bell destroyed by an enormous rock catapulted to their ship by the Hunters.

The Ripper had realized only just in time on who's side Hiccup really was when it noticed its chains were no more.

It let out a gurgling roar and with a flip sank back into the sea to search for the deeper open water it once called home.

Despite many protests from the Riders to be careful and to conserve his strength, Hiccup had gotten Astrid and Fishlegs to help him on his feet. That was when a pain in his chest took his breath away and he laid a hand on the leather that covered him, gasping quietly.

He couldn't stand on his own. Fishlegs kept one large, comforting hand on his back while Toothless urged him to use his head as a pillar of support. Hiccup wasn't about to argue with them on that. He felt ready to fall over at any given moment.

"What... happened?" He asked, panting and genuinely confused. Though the diving bell wasn't exactly the safest of his inventions, there simply hadn't been enough time to test it out properly and work out the kinks, Hiccup was still puzzled as to just how his plan could've gone this wrong.

Astrid left his side to join up with Stormfly, as did the others with their dragons. Hiccup was safe and now there was something else she and the other Riders needed to do before they could return to Berk.

"Viggo happened." Snotlout growled, it was the first thing he had managed to say since Hiccup's awakening.

The Jorgenson had already climbed into his saddle and both he and Hookfang's worry had been replaced by anger, by rage even. It was a feeling all of them shared after what Viggo and the Hunters had tried to do to their friend and heir.

Hiccup only momentarily glanced at the opposing ship before his weak self jumped into action.

"Viggo... No, no, he can't... escape." He tried to get into his saddle, but his legs just wouldn't cooperate. They gave out underneath him when he tried. Fishlegs' strong hold on him was all that kept him from falling down to his knees.

"Easy, Hiccup, I got ya." The husky young man eased him with his words. It wasn't a good idea for him to climb onto Toothless and chase their foe now.

"Don't worry, he won't get far." Astrid promised with determination in both her voice and her very pose. She, too, had already gotten up on Stormfly. The Riders were ready to rain down fire and destruction on the Hunter ship for what they had almost done.

Fishlegs, Meatlug, Hiccup and Toothless watched them go. One of the latter two helplessly so. Being vulnerable and unable to do anything had always left a bad taste in his mouth.

The Dragon Riders were on their way and they planned on leaving no one alive.

As they approached, the skin of their dragons grew hotter than ever before as if their very blood was boiling as much as theirs', they were witness to a small confrontation happening on the deck. They were too far away to hear what was being said. All they knew was that Viggo had not taken kindly to being outsmarted and defeated again.

His loss did not quell the flames of their anger.

"Okay, let's wrap this up!" Astrid spoke, keeping a hold of herself in favour of a clear level-headed mind.

They were ready. All four of the Riders and the three dragons were ready to get this over with and go home.

Just then a dinghy with only Viggo and Ryker Grimborn left the ship and halted them in their tracks.

"What the?! Dinghy?" Tuffnut was as bewildered as they all were.

"Why would they just leave themselves exposed like that?" Astrid questioned, concerned of what the sudden appearance of nothing more than a small rowing boat could entail.

Why would the two brothers take such a risk knowing that the Dragon Riders could blast them to Valhalla right then and there? Something did not add up.

"No time for questions! Let's hit them with everything we got!" Snotlout was not in a mood to wait for their next move or discuss the meaning of these sudden turn of events. Viggo was going to get it for nearly killing his cousin and he was going to get it hard.

The others agreed. Without another word said, without even so much as a nod or a look at each other, they all agreed to Snotlout's possibly very reckless decision to just open fire without reading the situation first. Astrid, though usually more cautious and strategic in her thinking, seemed to have no qualms on following Snot's plan.

The dragons themselves followed the thoughtless plan without protest. They didn't even need to be told to fire. They gladly opened their maws and ignited their dangerous fires in the backs of their throats. Or in the Zippleback's case, Belch was ready to spark and Barf was already leaking gas.

When the dinghy turned out to be pulled by innocent Seashocker dragons, that put a hold on their plans again.

"Seashockers? Hold your fire! We can't risk hurting those dragons!" Astrid shouted her orders upon spotting the captive creatures of the sea and they all felt the discomforting sensation of frustration creeping in the backs of their minds and hearts.

Using living, breathing beings as shields. How disgusting, how cowardly.

And yet there was nothing they could do about it.

They could chase them and waste time trying to free them, but just how beneficial would that be when one of their own was still in need of medical care?

So the Dragon Riders had no other choice but to watch them go and retreat.

It meant leaving dragons in need behind. It meant that they could not avenge Hiccup for his near drowning.

They returned to their Berkian long boat to haul it all the way back home. It would be much faster than to simply sail it back.

On the deck, now lacking his leather and his tunic, Hiccup was sleeping up against Toothless with a blanket covering him and the dragon curled up around him.

"Keep an eye on Hiccup." Gothi's message had been clear.

He was to stay in bed and rest. He was to be kept warm and watched over in case the inhaling and swallowing of all that cold saltwater would make him sick. That is what their healer had said.

It was not something Hiccup agreed with.

"I can't just rest now. Not with Viggo still out there and the village still starving. I can't just lay in bed all day when others are suffering worse than me!" He was the leader of the Dragon Riders and he was often wiser than his age suggested, but even he could be incredibly dense and much too stubborn sometimes.

Astrid released a sigh as they argued at his front door.

"Hiccup, you didn't just swallow a bit of water or just passed out, you stopped breathing! Everyone saw it. We were scared to death that we were going to lose you!" She argued back, the events of earlier that day still fresh in her mind. In all of their minds. It probably would be for a long time to come.

"But, Astrid, I can't just-"

"Scared to death, Hiccup!" Hofferson made quick work of another attempt at protesting, he needed to sleep. He still looked so ghostly pale.

"I know that and I do get it, but-" For a moment it almost seemed like he wouldn't give up.

"Do you? Hiccup? Do you really get it? Because it looks like to me that you're not getting us at all." Astrid shot him down again and Snotlout crossed his arms behind her, quickly getting tired of his cousin's stubbornness. One look at his Riders told Hiccup that they all felt the same way.

Still...

"Guys, I can't just-"

"Hiccup, will you stop whining and go to bed already?!" The Jorgenson Rider had enough of this.

Toothless, who was the only dragon present for this conversation, seemed to agree. He growled disapprovingly at his Viking's want to act so difficult.

"What is that supposed to mean?! What about Berk?!"

"What about you?! What about us?!" Fishlegs was having none of it either.

"Hiccup, they almost watched a friend die today. I almost came home to the news that one of my best friends was dead. Doesn't that count for anything?" Heather had not been there to see the plan with the diving bell be sabotaged by the Hunters as she and Windshear were out searching the secret off-Berk storage house for anything that they might have missed.

That was her part of the mission and she had the displeasure of hearing all about what happened in the Straits of Baldur when she had returned and Hiccup, still barely conscious at the time, had been taken to Gothi.

The Dragon Rider fell silent upon hearing her words and gazed at each of them again to see that, yes, they had truly been terrified to lose him today and all that would ease their worried hearts now was the knowledge that he would rest and take proper care of himself. His stubbornness seemed to hurt them.

Hiccup sighed and he did so out of both guilt and defeat.

"Do me a favour then? While I stay here on Berk?" His friends visibly relaxed, knowing that he had finally caved in.

It lasted for a good second.

"What do you mean with 'while you stay here on Berk'?" Ruffnut asked and her brother followed.

"Yeah, 'cause it almost sounds like you're sending us away." Tuffnut could not bring himself to smile, even though the very notion of them leaving Hiccup as he recovered seemed completely ludricous.

Astrid glared at Hiccup, her hands settling on her hips. It was a warning to not answer that question with what she believed she was thinking of.

"Listen, Berk is still in trouble and Viggo is out there. I need you guys to go and find whatever trader is in the area. Find Johann, find someone. We can't wait around for weeks until word spreads that the Straits are clear again. People could start falling ill or even die if they go without food for too long. Especially young children or the elderly." It was true, the Hairy Hooligans were starving and it could take a long time for salvation to come in the form of a seafaring merchant.

"Please, Astrid." They all seemed doubtful about leaving him here, although he was far from alone. So Hiccup turned his attention solely to his second-in-command as he grabbed her hands, who he hoped to convince.

"If I'm gonna rest and ease your worries, than please ease mine too. Take care of Berk now that I can't." His hands were still freezing, his nails had barely regained their original colour, but she just couldn't say no to a face so genuinely worried.

"Okay, fine. We'll leave and find those traders. And we'll keep an eye out for Viggo and the Hunters." So Astrid gave in aswell. There was an uproar of protest behind her, but at least her leader looked back at her with a smile, tuning the others out.

"Thank you. Leave whenever, but please don't wait too-"

"But!"

Hiccup had a surprised and wide-eyed look to him when he was suddenly shut up again.

"But one of us stays. Just to keep an eye on you." That was their condition. They would go out and find help, but one of them would need to stay behind with him. At least they wouldn't try to lie about taking care of themselves.

Hiccup let out a slightly hoarse chuckle. His voice hadn't been quite right ever since his near-drowning.

"Okay, who?"

In the end Snotlout had been chosen to stay behind.

Astrid, as second-in-command, had to take Hiccup's place as he recovered. Fishlegs was their navigator and knew the locations of certain islands where they might find help. Heather was most familiar with trading routes due to her old habit of raiding ships with her Razorwhip not too long ago. And the twins, it was simply better to have two extra pairs of hands instead of just one.

Besides, Snotlout was family. A blood relative of Hiccup's from his mother's side. He seemed like the obvious choice in this situation.

They had decided to leave that very afternoon. Because the sooner they left, the sooner they would be back. And they weren't just going to search for merchants. The Riders had hoped to visit allied tribes that could trade some food they were willing to part with.

Best case scenario, they'd be gone until tomorrow evening. Worst case scenario, they would be gone for days. Either way, they were in a hurry.

But not before seeing Hiccup disappear through his front door.

Knees quaking, clothes still a little damp, growing weaker every passing moment, the Haddock heir had been holding onto his dragon as he was helped inside.

Stoick, who had arrived near the end of their conversation and almost had his fury return to him when he noticed his son still wasn't bed, was keeping the door open.

"I'll see you guys later!" Hiccup had shot them the most reassuring smile he could muster in his condition. Astrid vaguely noted how even his freckles weren't as lively as they used to be anymore.

He disappeared from sight with Toothless helpfully by his side and they left, expecting to return to a brighter smile as their greeting than to the one they had been send off with.

They had no idea.

Snotlout had stayed true to his promise to keep an eye on Hiccup.

After leaving the Haddock home for no more than an hour to check up on his parents and younger sister, he got himself some of the reserves that were being served as a soup at the plaza.

Word about what Hiccup had done in the Straits for Berk had spread quickly and Snotlout had been given an extra bowl upon mentioning that he was visiting him later. They wanted to make sure their heir would eat and regain his strength.

It was with two bowls of soup that he returned to their Chief's abode and with the rude boldness that only a Jorgenson could have did he enter.

"Hiccup, you better be hungry 'cause I got- Oh hey, Chief!" And all that bravado vanished into thin air the second Snotlout noticed Stoick sitting at the dinner table with Gobber. One looked mildly amused while the other looked like someone had just spit in his mutton and then tried to deny it.

"He's upstairs. Count yourself lucky I hear that my son is still awake, Jorgenson. Or you would've been out of here faster than you can blink." The Chief's hands balled into tight fists at the less than modest entrance Snotlout had made.

The teen counted himself lucky indeed and muttered a quick apology before ascending the stairs to Hiccup's room. Gobber let out a laugh at Snot quickly retreating like a skittish little mouse and joked about something with Stoick that he couldn't quite hear.

With no overbearing fathers glaring at him with a look that could almost kill, Snotlout could hear Hiccup's familiar voice coming from his room, backing up Stoick's assumption that his son was still up.

"-You know what? That is just unfair. Terrors have their strengths and Night Furies have their weaknesses!" Toothless warbled in disagreement and rolled his eyes. It was a human trait he had picked up after spending the last three years with Hiccup.

Snotlout almost groaned after entering the room as he had walked in on another animated discussion that this particular dragonriding duo often seemed to have. To him, they were even worse than those Hicclegs lovefests. You could at least understand what Fishlegs was saying. No one, sometimes not even Astrid, was sure if Hiccup could truly understand his dragon or if he was making it all up.

"Snotlout! Come to check up on me, huh? Well, I've tried falling asleep, but... Well, an annoying aching in my chest is kind of keeping me up. And my stump is cold. I'm waiting for the willow bark to kick in. Hopefully I'll be able to get some shut eye soon." For all his talk of jumping right back in the saddle earlier that day, Hiccup did look genuinely exhausted.

It was what helped Snotlout believe him as he walked over and offered the fullest bowl to him. That and the fact that Toothless didn't feel the need to 'convince' Hiccup to tell the truth with a tailfin to the back of his head.

"Thanks. I'm still a little full on seawater, but thank you. I appreciate it." The heir spoke gratefully as he accepted the meal and held it in both hands seemingly more to warm up than anything else.

Besides the leggings he wore, the young man was mostly nude, lacking his leather armour, his tunic and his boot. His metal pegleg had also been discarded, his stump hidden by a pant leg and held onto by Toothless in an attempt to give it warmth.

The Night Fury had his head on the Viking's lap with him draped over it and a thick fur around his shoulders. Like this, Hiccup was between a wall and a dragon to soak up some of his warmth.

Snotlout would've made a comment about his friendly gesture not getting the appreciation it deserved by not having him eat the soup and normally he would've kept the fuller bowl to himself, but these were special circumstances.

"Figured I could bring you some. Didn't know if you got to eat yet or not." There was a softer side to the stouter young man sitting before him on a stool he had grabbed after offering the soup. It was one part of him that he would only show privately and during situations such as these.

They were some of the moments that made Hiccup realize that, maybe, they tended to take him for granted. He had already made a mental note to rectify that.

Snotlout could be a jerk, everybody knew that, but he had his good moments. And anybody who didn't see that didn't know the real Snotlout.

Hiccup brought no attention to it as he had seen this once or twice before, though particularly when his leg was involved.

This was, to him, nothing new.

"Dad tried to feed me earlier, but... You know." He was referring to another bowl that was cooling on his nightstand and shot it a look of guilt. His village was starving and here he was wasting two valuable meals.

"Maybe you should give this to someone else while it's still hot. I know that the traders should return soon, but there are other people who need it more than me. I'll eat when I have less water in my stomach." It wasn't meant to be taken as a joke as Hiccup handed his bowl back, but he was still the one who let out a dry chuckle.

"Have you tried to eat? Maybe you're hungry and you just don't know it yet." Snotlout suggested honestly, though he was a bit miffed that he went through all this trouble just to end up giving the soup to someone else when it was meant for Hiccup.

"Snotlout, the very thought of eating anything right now is making me physically ill. So no, I haven't." It was an acceptable excuse, the Jorgenson boy supposed, but all it had done was make him feel even worse.

"Fine, I'll give this stupid bowl to someone else. Be right back or whatever." Snotlout got back up again from the stool to move out the door, a little bit disappointed and showing it too. Perhaps there was a kid or something somewhere who wanted some soup.

Hiccup smiled tiredly at him, his chin resting on top of Toothless' head.

Snotlout did stop at the stairs, however. And he took a moment to look back at his friend.

"We're gonna get Viggo for this. I know you're not all that vocal about getting revenge and such, but we're gonna make him pay. No way is he gonna get away with this." He wasn't sure if he was telling this to Hiccup or to himself.

Hiccup didn't quite respond in any way. He didn't condone revenge, though he had almost made himself guilty of it aswell. What was important to him, was that none of his Riders got hurt. His own health did not matter.

With silence as his only answer, Snotlout walked out the door. He didn't need to tell Hiccup and Stoick that he would return later.

He would come back to spend the rest of the evening with the heir in lighter spirits. They would joke, they would talk nonsense, it was a conversation like any other. Forgettable, really. Nothing special. There were supposed to be many like them after that day.

Snotlout left with an eased heart that night because of this quiet reassurance. Hiccup was still pale, still cold, still tired, but as he had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of one of a Jorgenson's typical animated tales, Snotlout had thought nothing was out of the ordinairy.

Honestly, why should he?

With a gasp did Hiccup Haddock startle awake in the middle of the night. Jumping upright, gasping, sweating, from a different position than the one he had fallen asleep in. Toothless must have moved him somehow in his sleep without rousing him. He found himself lying up against the dragon's side instead.

The Night Fury heard him easily, purring as he woke up and lifting his head to meet his Rider's gaze with a look of worry of his own. One that urged him to speak about what was troubling him.

Hiccup looked back at him as he panted, near tears. A hand was on his chest and Toothless wondered if it was bothering him again, if he needed his dragon to wake Stoick so he could prepare willow bark for him again.

"Bud?" The Viking started with a voice that could only be called scared. Like a little boy's after he woke up from a terrible nightmare.

"Do you ever feel like... like something is wrong with you? Physically?" The question alarmed Toothless as he heard it, and rightfully so, as he got up on all fours and seemed to warble his concern. He pushed his snout against Hiccup's bare chest, sniffing up and down as if it would help him identify whatever 'wrong' he was feeling.

"Tooth-Toothless-" Hiccup found himself caught in a coughing fit when trying to address his Night Fury and he pushed his nose away from him.

Toothless respected his want for distance and drew back, watching with narrowed pupils until the coughing ceased.

As he finished, Hiccup sat there and panted , staring down at his lap before glancing up to Toothless.

He stared at the Night Fury and suddenly there was something subdued about him, as if he was calmer.

"I'm fine, Toothless. I'm fine, Bud." His breathing evened out and he looked down again, offering his right hand like he had done so many times before. Closing his eyes and releasing a sigh, he felt the warm familiarity of a dry, scaly nose against his palm. It was reassuring.

Toothless had momentarily closed his eyes aswell, but when he opened them again, he noticed some tear streaks on his Rider's cheeks.

He crooned softly.

"I'm fine, just a little startled, Bud. That's all." Hiccup answered with a sniff, though he stared entirely too long at his dragon, who wasn't quite sure what to think about this strange... exchange.

"We should get some sleep. I'm... really tired. Like I could sleep for ages!" Toothless purred at those words, agreeing that Hiccup needed to try to doze off again and get the rest that his healing body so desperately needed. They could always request a visit from Gothi tomorrow and have her find this 'wrong' that the Rider was feeling and his dragon could not find.

He would probably have to make Hiccup let the elderly woman examine him as the young man was often too stubborn for his own good, but those were concerns for later.

Toothless lied down on the stone slab they had chosen as their bed for tonight and Hiccup snuggled up next to him, trying to take in all that warmth the reptilian scales provided for him. With his head resting on a foreleg, he found a comfortable position and closed his eyes. Sighing, he could feel Toothless curling up around him, protecting him from the cold.

"I love you, Bud." Hiccup muttered, a hand on his other half's scaled hide.

It was a typically human phrase, but Toothless knew what it meant, knew its significance, and warbled something back that sounded quite similar. He had taught it to himself, just for his human boy.

The next morning, these strange couple of minutes made all the more sense.

When Snotlout woke up as the sun rose for once, the first thing he did after a refreshing morning stretch to wake himself up was going out to see if the other Riders had returned with new reserves and new traders on the way.

They hadn't yet, which most likely meant they could expect them to come back to Berk somewhere in the afternoon or evening at the earliest, and Snotlout decided to grab himself some breakfast.

Though it was still so early in the morning, the kitchens just might still have some leftovers from last night and he was determined to get his cousin to eat today.

The soup was all gone. And if there still was some, it would've been cold and Snotlout did not fancy the idea of heating it back up again. So he settle for an old biscuit that was still somewhat soft and moist that Hiccup would somehow already get his fill from. He didn't know how someone could eat so little, but it was true.

Besides, who even wanted to have soup in the morning?

It was with one biscuit and one apple, the former for Hiccup and the latter for himself, that Snotlout made the trek up to the Haddock house, which stood on a hill overlooking the village.

It was a short walk, one he knew by heart for years already. For anyone who wasn't as used to being at the Chief's house as him, the way there would've almost seemed long.

All of Berk was still quiet at this time of the crisp morning and a soft layer of fog was his only companion. The baker wasn't up yet due to a lack of ingredients he could use and that gave this particular day almost something lonely that went right over Snot's head.

He arrived at the Haddock household and entered, quietly for once. Chances were, Stoick was only just waking up and he did not feel like angering the Chief once more.

Call it instinct after all the battles he had fought the past three, almost four, years or perhaps it was something else entirely, Snotlout could sense that nothing was right the second he stepped inside the house.

The fire place wasn't lit, which made it as chilly as in here as it was outside. There was no sign of either father or son having had any sort of breakfast this morning. It was something he expected for Hiccup, but not for Stoick. There was nothing to indicate that the Chief had risen early to tend to his duties as he normally had every single day for the past twenty years.

It was quiet. Too quiet. And too cold.

And was that... sobbing?

Fear clenched its cold unforgiving grip around his heart and Snotlout almost forgot to breath as his confused and hesitant gaze trailed upwards to where he knew one specific room to be.

It was soft, but he definitely heard it. And he knew it was coming from up there.

It was with a sense of foreboding that he walked up the stairs, praying to the Gods that whatever fear that was gnawing at the back of his mind turned out to be false, that it wasn't even deep, foreign crying that he heard.

Climbing the stairs as quietly as he could, he never noticed just how long it took to get to the upper most floor. Reaching Hiccup's room seemed almost painfully endless and yet much too quick at the same time.

Snotlout did not feel ready when he reached the opening and could clearly identify the noises he heard as a grown man weeping softly.

Yet he had to see. He had to know for sure.

He steeled his frightened heart and made the final climb.

"Oh son." Snotlout heard Stoick speak before he had even gotten up to Hiccup's room and to him was revealed a large man kneeling on a stone slab, hunched over with something deathly pale clutched to his chest.

Or rather... someone.

Snotlout froze in place as he stared, his grip on the breakfast he was to share with Hiccup this morning slipping from his grasp to fall almost soundlessly to the wooden floor. He easily recognized the limp figure in the Chief's arms to be his heir, who was not responding to his father's cries. The Jorgenson boy felt himself growing cold on the inside.

"Oh Hiccup... Please, son, don't do this to me. Wake up." Stoick, usually an impenetrable wall of stoicism, was begging his only child to finally open his eyes. He was the only one who could speak, who could move, while Snotlout stood there frozen. Unable to even announce his presence.

Toothless was here too, he vaguely noticed. He was blending perfectly with the shadows of this barely lit room. He sat in the corner, facing away from them, unmoving, silent. It barely seemed like he was even breathing himself.

"Chief?"

Snotlout didn't know where the courage to speak up came from, he hadn't even felt his lips move or heard sound leave his vocals, but Stoick's broken gaze met his scared one and they confirmed what he had feared.

Silently, without a single goodbye, in the middle of the night, Hiccup had passed away.

48 notes · View notes

somethingjustsouthofbrilliance · 7 years ago

Text

Intermezzo (an Infinity War Tag)

So I’m very new to this fandom and this is my very first foray into Marvel fanfiction, so I am extremely, extremely nervous here (palms sweating and all). But the movie ripped me apart emotionally and got my muse all worked up, so I took the jump.

The amazing @hedgehog-goulash7 was gracious enough to beta the story for me, and I can’t thank her enough for her help, her invaluable input and her encouragement! My dear, I owe you greatly! <3

And @tonystark5ever - I promised to tag you if I ever got this written down. I’m sorry the story didn’t quite go the way I had intended (the lady Tony helped didn’t make it in there after all), but I do hope you still enjoy the read.

So here it is. Hope you enjoy (and please drop me a comment if you do).

Intermezzo

The Titan sun beats down on him – a harsh, mercilessly blinding light that engulfs the desolate landscape below it, but somehow doesn’t give off any warmth. It’s cold on that rubble-littered, amber-washed expanse – a biting, jaw-locking chill that seeps into his very bones, makes him shiver.

A gust of wind tears past him, kicking up a small cloud of dust – no, not dust, ash, ash! Peter. Dear God, Peter… – and he huddles in on himself, slams his eyes shut, squeezes them (harder, harder, harder). But it’s all in vain. Because he can still see it billowing around him, can feel the tiny black particles brush against his skin as they settle back down – on his face, in his hair, on the ground at his feet.

He feels colder still.

“We need to go.” The words carry toward him with another gust of wind – calm, emotionless, and also cold, so very cold. A reminder of another’s presence, of a witness to his slow unraveling, as he sits there shaking violently and rocking back and forth like a lost pitiful child seconds away from crumpling into a pathetic, wailing mess. It should bother him that she can see him like that at his most vulnerable. Should make him want to pull the hopelessly tattered pieces of his mask back together, to shield himself from another’s open judgment. But he just… he just doesn’t care.

“Where?” he wants to ask. “Why?” comes out instead, a listless, uncaring response. Because why bother? Everything that he has feared has come to pass. Everyone that ever mattered to him (and he is sure that it’s true on Earth as well, can feel it with every halting beat of his anguished, shredded heart) is gone, while he is cursed to carry on with the weight of the deaths of all those he failed. His worst nightmare come to life.

He should be dead. It would be better. Should let nature take its course, let Titan’s gravity drain the last of the blood from his body, let it seep into the hungry, rust-colored ground, dissolve among the ashes of those who mattered so much more than he ever did.

He shivers once more as the wind brushes his blood-soaked clothes – a biting, ice-cold touch. Rests his forehead on his trembling, ash-covered hands.

“Come!” A hand – small and heavy – lands on his shoulder, grips it in an unapologetically crushing, metal vise.

Fucking cyborg, he thinks, making a futile attempt to pull away. “Let go.”

She does the opposite. Of course she does. Because when has anyone ever listened to him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens impossibly as she yanks him up off the ground, pulls him roughly to his feet. And Tony’s too busy gnashing his teeth against a sharp jolt of pain at the unsanctioned movement to notice her move in front of him, to spot her other hand shoot snake-like toward his body, toward the throbbing wound in his side.

“He spared you,” she hisses, driving her fist brutally below his ribs. She watches, cold and intent, as his body seizes involuntarily within her grasp, his breath cutting out on a strangled choke. “Why?”

Warm liquid coats the tip of his tongue where his teeth dug deep into the flesh of his lip, a thick metallic tang filling his mouth. “Why don’t you ask him?” Tony spits it all out – words and bloody spittle, defiant, as he nods in the general direction of the rubble where he last saw Strange, at the scattered pile of ashes there. Because whatever the wizard’s plan was, whatever it was that he had seen in his vision – he never bothered to share any of it with Tony. Nothing but a vague declaration and a regretful apology that left him none the wiser.

The blue-skinned cyborg is not amused.

“I’m asking you,” she insists, her black eyes glistening dangerously. “He sacrificed the stone, let half the universe perish, just so you could live. Why?”

She snarls the word “you” like it’s an insult, the worst of its kind. And he thinks it’s ridiculous, because is that really the best she can do? For someone like him? When what he deserves is–

Tony barks out a laugh – a harsh, brittle sound that feels more like a sob, burning his throat as it tears through him.

It breaks upon her rage, seems to fuel it more if the warning twitch of the blue-skinned cheek is any indication. But he no longer gives a damn. Doesn’t flinch when the metal arm releases his shoulder to swipe an angry arc toward his head. Welcomes with a twisted sort of gratitude the vicious blow and the darkness that follows.

***

The merciful darkness doesn’t last, and all too soon awareness returns, pain ripping him out of the warm cocoon of nothingness.

He lies still for a moment, lets himself take stock.

There’s a hard surface underneath him, polished, smooth. It doesn’t feel like Titan’s rocky dust-covered terrain. The air he breathes is likewise devoid of dust; it feels clean, almost artificially so. And if he expands his senses a bit further, he can hear a faint steady rumble of an engine that sends small vibrations through the surface he’s lying on. Peeling his eyes open confirms to him what he already knows – he’s back on a ship, flying through space.

He lets his gaze roam around the unfamiliar cramped surroundings, still too dazed, in too much pain to register much beyond a hazy blue-skinned figure in the pilot’s seat. Right, the tie-dyed Sinead O’Connor, he remembers, reaching up to touch his pounding temple. Winces when his fingertips brush the bruised flesh there, sticky with dried blood. Damn.

“Wh’r’you… t-takin’ me?”

She doesn’t turn around, doesn’t show any sign of having heard or acknowledged his person. Reaches over to fiddle with the controls instead.

Tony closes his eyes in preparation. Grits his teeth against the pain he knows is to come. Slowly, laboriously, pulls himself up into a semi-seated position, leaning awkwardly against a nearby bulkhead. Takes a few short, steadying breaths as he waits for the reawakened agony in his side to subside enough that he can trust himself to speak again. Directs a half-hearted glare toward her once more, blinking in a desperate bid to clear the black spots dancing in his vision.

“Where… are you… taking me?”

“To fulfill your purpose,” comes a calm, dispassionate response. “You will help me slay Thanos.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow at that. Because wasn’t she there? Didn’t she see what happened the last time he went against Thanos, the last time any of them went against Thanos? And that was before the deranged overgrown raisin had the entire stone collection within his grabby purple paw. How exactly is she hoping to defeat him now when all he needs to do is snap his fingers and the both of them will be snuffed out of existence?

He must have said some of that out loud because the next thing he knows she’s crouching before him, purple lips curled back in a snarl. “I have seen you fight, Terran,” she says, cold, but there’s a note of grudging respect in her words. “You are weak, but your armor is strong. Strong enough to distract him, while I deliver the killing blow.”

“You want me to draw his fire.” Tony can’t help it – the idea is so preposterous that the bubble of laughter that threatens is too much for him to keep in. Can’t keep it in even when the cybernetic patchwork of a face before him twists in a way that doesn’t bode well for his already unmanageable headache.

“You find this funny, Terran?”

“Hilarious, actually,” he manages past another hiccupped giggle. Then he grows serious, all sense of mirth leaving him in a tired huff of air. “You know I have a six-inch-wide hole through my guts, right? That my insides are being held together with an arachnoid equivalent of duct tape. How long do you think I would last with Thanos when I can’t even see straight, much less stand?”

She growls, low and dangerous. Draws her face closer in a not so veiled attempt to intimidate.

“You will manage,” she states, and her confidence sounds like a threat. Then scoffs, disdainful, “I have been pulled apart piece by piece and I managed. I fought and I survived. And you do not need to survive.”

“My survival was never part of the plan,” he counters wearily, his weariness quickly shifting into raspy, toothless anger – because how can she be so blind, how does she not understand! “But I’m useless against him now. Both of us are.” Weakly he raises his hand (covered in ashes, still covered in ashes – and he can’t look at it, can’t look; he’s gonna lose it if he does), waves it back and forth between them to emphasize his point. “No offense to your cybertronic patchwork there and your obvious anger-management issues, but unless we somehow find a way to go back in time, there’s no possible scenario where we would…”

He trails off, his mind stumbling over the idea so ridiculously improbable, so dizzyingly, so hope-inspiringly plausible.

“I gotta get back,” he murmurs in a dazed echo to his own thoughts, then snaps his gaze up to the two fathomless pools of blackness hovering over him and blurts out, urgent now, “you gotta take me to Earth.”

She regards him stonily, her expression unchanged save for the slight twitching of the skin around the cybernetic eye. “We’re going after Thanos,” she declares with an air of finality even as she turns to walk back to the pilot seat. “I don’t have time to make detours.”

“You don’t understand!” He lurches after her, only to make it halfway off the floor before a nauseating spike in pain drops him right back down, his breath choked off and vision swimming. “P-please…,” he insists, when he manages to find his voice again, no matter how unsteady. Grinds the words stubbornly through clenched teeth. “I gotta… it’s the o-only way…”

She ignores him. Settles calmly back into her chair, turning her back on Tony and his pained appeals to her reason.

“Please,” he tries again, his voice no more than a strained whisper as he attempts once more to push himself up. He’s not afraid of dying – in a fight with Thanos, where he knows he stands no chance, weakened as he is by his wound, or here on this very ship at the hands of the blue-skinned cyborg, who, he is sure, won’t hesitate to snap his neck if he tried to wrestle her for the controls. But wrestle her he will, if it’s the last thing he does. Because he has to make her listen, make her understand that this isn’t the way – not his way, at any rate.

They cannot defeat Thanos through direct confrontation. The endgame is not about that; he’s sure of it now. And if he takes what Strange had told him to heart, if his life was spared because he was needed to ensure that the one outcome where the universe survives comes to pass, then he needs to go back to doing what he does best – fixing things. He needs to find a way to fix the timeline so Thanos never gets his hands on all the stones, so he remains vulnerable, defeatable. So none of this nightmare comes true.

So Peter and the others get to live.

And he can’t do that here on this ship. Can’t do that if Thanos kills him before he has the chance to even try.

“Please,” he gasps out, wobbling his way to his knees. “I n..need t’… get home.”

“I’ll take you.”

A new, vaguely familiar voice calls out behind him, cutting through the steadily increasing roar in his ears, and he twists around, the ship’s interior spinning about him in a sickening parallel to his movement.

“Thing Two,” he breathes out, grinning crookedly up at the portly Asian that has appeared beside him in a fiery red circle of sparks. “F-fancy meeting you here…”

He wants to say something else, wants to apologize for failing to protect Strange and the stone, wants to warn him about Baldy, who, he’s pretty sure, is not gonna take too kindly to the wizard’s appearance on her ship. But his tongue refuses to move to his brain’s command and his vision dims, blackness encroaching from the edges. And he finds himself falling…

***

He dreams of Peter. Of the boy’s arms that tremble as they cling to his shoulders. Of his voice, thin and small with fear – “I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark. Please, I don’t wanna go.” Of the lanky body that crumbles away into particles of dust underneath his hands even as he tries his goddamn best to hold on to him.

“I’m sorry…”

The boy’s face disintegrates before him, ash circling in the air, twisting, churning, before it settles back down on Tony’s hair, Tony’s hands, Tony’s face.

“Peter,” he cries out and chokes as the dust grows thicker all of a sudden, fusing together to form a new shape – a flaming ginger cascade of hair, a pale freckled face, blue eyes – wide and terrified.

“No,” he pleads, reaching toward her even as she, too, starts to crumble to dust before him. “No!”

***

He wakes with a start, his breath hitching as his gaze lands on the familiar worry-creased face hovering inches above his. He reaches toward her, half expecting the illusion to fall apart at any moment. But the image persists, and there’s warm, solid flesh that meets his searching, trembling fingers.

“Pepper,” he gasps wetly, reverently, latching on hard enough to bruise. A desperate bid of a nightmare-ravaged mind to assure himself that he isn’t still dreaming, to keep her here, to stop her from disappearing like her counterpart in his dream, like the boy he tried so hard to protect and in the end still failed to save.

She lets him hold her, enfolds him into an embrace just as crushing and desperate as his own as he cries brokenly into the crumpled fabric of her shirt.

“I lied,” she tells him, pulling one hand away to card her fingers through his hair. “That day at the park… when I told you I wasn’t pregnant…. I lied.”

He pulls away, too, then, frowns at her mutely, his eyes darting over her face, seeking confirmation to what he just heard.

“I was scared,” she confesses with a rueful smile, reaching up to wipe tear tracks from his cheeks. “Every time something good happened for us, something terrible would come along and ruin it, and I just… I didn’t wanna jinx it. I thought… if I waited a little longer, if I just… if I just waited, we’ll be okay. And then we got attacked, and you went off into space, and half the people disappeared, and I thought… I thought I lost you anyway and I never got a chance to tell you, and…” Her voice cuts out on a strangled little laugh that sounds more like a sob.

He blinks, slow and dazed, lowers his gaze to her stomach, his fingers brushing the fabric-covered skin – still perfectly toned and flat. “A baby?” he whispers, voice cracking with wonder. “We’re gonna have a … a baby?”

She nods, her lips trembling as she tries in vain to hold back her own tears. “The man that brought you back, he said that…” She sniffles, lets out a long, shaky breath. “I know what you must do, Tony. I know that you may not… that I may lose you for good….” She squeezes her eyes shut, presses her lips together in a thin pale line as if trying to hold in a scream. Hiccups out, voice hitching, “I can’t… I can’t have secrets from you. Not like this. Not anymore. I–”

He shushes her, finger pressed against her quivering lips. Moves his hand to cup her tear-stained cheek. “I will fix this,” he vows. “I will fix this and I’ll do my best to come back to you.” He rests his other hand against her belly, amends quietly, “Both of you.” Smiles as she nods tearfully against his palm, her hand rising to cover his own.

It’s a lie and they both know it, both read the truth – ‘I love you’/ ‘Forgive me’ – in each other’s eyes.

“I will hold you to that, Mr. Stark.”

He huffs wistfully at the familiar repartee, drops his head on her shoulder, letting his forehead rest against the cool silk of her shirt. Closes his eyes and inhales deeply, allowing her scent, her warmth, the feel of her fingers stroking his hair enfold him. Lets himself melt into the tangible truth of her embrace, to enjoy this small refuge of love and peace for a little while longer, drawing from it the much needed strength for whatever tomorrow will bring.

“I expect nothing less, Ms. Potts.”

FIN

Note (spoiler): After I wrote the story, I came across a post where Gwyneth Paltrow talks about a baby in the future for Tony and Pepper. Hopefully, my story is prophetic in that respect :)

#iw story tag #iw spoilers #tony stark #nebula #pepper potts #benjamin wong #hurt/comfort #angst #infinity war fanfiction #somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes

224 notes · View notes