#it's... whew it's been a horrible week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode five: the flea and the acrobat

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?” Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?” “Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend. Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

summary: you and dustin have a long overdue Sibling Moment, at will's funeral you and jonathan exchange information and surprise ! it's all horrible news ! nancy has awful timing and when you leave her alone with jonathan one damn time you and steve end up trauma bonded on her front porch #bffs.

rating: general, though there's the use of guns in here for plot point sake, as well as cursing

warnings: use of guns, cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 14.4k (whew)

before you swing in: i'm back gang ! fall semester is almost done and i am in the trenches, so i leave y'all with this monster of a chapter before hell week (i have three finals in one day next week, no i don't want to talk about it). please enjoy this beauty, i had so much fun messing with character relationships in this and it was very ;)

With how many times you’ve knocked on the Wheeler’s door this week, you’d think that Mrs. Wheeler would stop looking so surprised when she answers.

“Y/N?”

You give the woman a small smile. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler. Is, uh, Mike home?”

“Yes… he stayed home today because of Will. Is there something you need?” The usually friendly woman seems beaten down from this week’s events as well, which you’re understanding of.

“I was wondering if I could come in and see how he’s doing? Dustin is really shaken up about it, so I figured…” You shrug, trying to come across as a concerned older sister figure rather than a worried and horrible babysitter who should really retire.

Mrs. Wheeler places a hand over her heart. “Oh, Y/N. You’ve always been so good with the boys, of course you can check on him. It means a lot that you care.”

Oh, no problem, but if we’re being honest I’m here because I’m scared I accidentally let your son get involved with the supernatural and dangerous monster men thingies that I honestly can’t wrap my head around!

Of course you can’t tell the woman this, so instead you thank her and let yourself in. Immediately you head towards the basement and fling the door open. You like Mrs. Wheeler, but the amount of times her son has snuck out of the house without her noticing honestly concerns you, so you’re a bit unsure if Mike even is home.

You get deja-vu from a few days ago as you head down the basement steps, once again hearing the three boys panicking as they try to hide El. Unlike last time, which had only annoyed you, seeing them scramble to hide the girl makes you relieved.

They’re here, alive and well. You’d let Steve distract you from your worrying on the drive over, so the relief hits you like a damn truck.

“Oh god not again!” Dustin groans when he sees you, worried that he’s once again going to get yelled at for being at the Wheeler’s with El.

You ignore his theatrics and walk over to the girl, who is laying face down on the couch. You notice that she’s dressed in one of Nancy’s old costumes and a blonde wig that suits her well. What the hell did the kids get up to today?

“Do I want to know why El is dressed like a doll and almost passed out on the couch?”

“That depends on if you’re going to yell at us again,” Mike says.

You shoot him a glare, but you guess he has a point. The last few times you’ve been with the kids you’ve ended up yelling at them one way or another. You feel bad about that, but then again: they won’t stop getting into trouble.

El manages to raise her head from the couch, “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, sweetie,” you approach the couch and gently nudge her to the side so that you can sit down and place her head on your lap. She nuzzles into your warmth and lets out a sleepy sigh. “And to answer your question, Mike: I’m not here to yell at you guys. I just… Please tell me what’s been going on. I know I haven’t been here for you guys like I should’ve, but-”

“Your boyfriend needed you more,” Mike quips, though there’s some resentment in his voice that causes you to feel even worse.

Dustin hits his shoulder against the boy. “He isn’t her boyfriend, but she couldn’t just abandon him; he needed her. Besides, we have been sneaking off without telling her anything.”

You cast an appreciative smile at your brother, thankful that even though he’s a pain in your ass, he always has your back like you do his. It’s something he’s always done with you and Mike; being so similar, you and him are constantly butting heads, yet Dustin has always been the first to defend you against his friend (even if you’ve never needed it in the first place).

“I’m sorry, okay? I messed up, but I’m here now and I really, really need to know if I’m being paranoid. What mess did you dweebs manage to get into?”

The three boys suddenly can’t look at you. Their heads turn in different directions, Lucas scratches the back of his neck, Mike kicks at a board piece on the ground, and Dustin whistles a tune.

Your shoulders slump. “Is it that bad?”

“It started this morning,”

“Lucas!”

“Mike, she could help us! The weirdo clearly likes her,” he gestures over to El practically asleep in your lap, “plus, she’s the only sane one left in this group. I need backup.”

“Backup?” You ask.

Mike throws his head back in annoyance and lets out a groan as if he’s dying. Truly, this kid is the most dramatic person you’ve ever met. “Fine, we’ll tell you everything if you agree to stop hounding us for sneaking around. Will is missing, he’s our friend, and no one in the party gets left behind.”

You think this over for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “I will agree to those terms if you guys agree to keep me updated on everything at all times.”

The boys try to argue, but you don’t let them.

“I mean it, another person is missing. Nancy’s friend, Barb, was in the same woods that Will was, the same woods that you guys keep insisting on trekking through without supervision. This is serious, guys. Whatever, or whoever, is out there… it’s dangerous, and I-” You swallow down some tears that claw against your throat. “I can’t lose anyone else, okay?”

The mood in the room is solemn, the three boys silent as your words hang in the air. Naturally, you try to lighten things up. “I’ll deny this if anyone asks, but unfortunately I love you boys.”

As expected, they immediately begin to gag and pretend that they’ve been impaled with something as they all scream “ew” and “yuck” at your words. You laugh, which causes El to laugh as well, and for a moment it feels like nothing has changed.

“So?” You ask after the boys have finished their gross theatrics.

Dustin is the one who makes the decision for them. “We promise to keep you updated, for real this time.”

“Good, now again I ask: why is El dressed like a doll and half asleep on my lap as we speak?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike begin to talk all at once.

“Mike radioed for me to head over, claiming he heard Will on the walkie.”

“Yeah, and then they radioed me to join. Sorry, by the way. I would’ve woken you up, but you and Jonathan looked so cozy in your bed so-”

“I thought you said they weren’t dating?”

“Not now, Mike.”

It continues like this for a while as they explain everything they did today. Sneaking El into the school, having to to talk to Mr. Clark, attending the assembly for Will, Mike fighting some idiotic kids for making fun of him before El made the head bully pee himself.

You look down at the girl in your lap. “You can really make people pee themselves?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugs.

“Lovely.”

“That’s what you focus on, Y/N?” Mike asks you, and you simply shrug your shoulders in response. Sue you for still having doubts about Will being alive, you’ve gotten your hopes up one too many times.

“Are you suggesting I believe that you heard Will through your cheap little walkies?”

Dustin puts his head in his hands in defeat while Lucas gestures over to you. “See, she’s the sane backup I need.”

Mike groans at you once more. “No, that’s why we snuck El into the radio room and used the heathkit that Mr. Clark got us. Keep up!”

“What, did you tell the guy that El was a new student?”

“Don’t be stupid, we told Mr. Clark that she’s my cousin.”

“Uhh, Y/N,” Dustin laughs nervously, motioning for you to stop talking. “You promised you’d be cool about everything if we told you.”

Knowing that your brother is right, you deflate a bit against the couch and start playing with El’s hair. “I am being cool, I just have so many questions.”

“Oh, just wait.” Lucas snorts.

Mike now crosses the room to stand in front of you, as if he’s gearing up to tell you some major news. “We heard Will on the heathkit. El, she managed to use her powers to communicate with him.”

Like always, the seriousness in his voice concerns yet intrigues you. “Lucas, do you really believe that it was Will?”

The boy nods at you, his face grim. You don’t like how scared he looks, because out of the entire group he’s the one who is always the most reasonable. If he’s willingly telling you that he thinks it was Will, then you have to start taking the situation at hand seriously.

“Okay, tell me exactly what you guys heard.”

And they do. One by one they tell you about Will’s pleading for his mom, telling her that it’s like home but cold and dark, the banging that followed after his words, how El had used so much of her energy trying to maintain the communication before the radio caught fire and she was too exhausted to do much else.

“So, you believe us now?” Mike asks after you’re silent for a moment.

You look down at the girl in your lap, in awe that someone so small and shy could hold so much power. This time you believe what the boys tell you without much conviction. Now that you know that Barb is missing as well, lost in the same woods as Will, the same woods where you found El, the photos from Nancy and the figure she claims she saw… It’s all starting to come together.

You’re not sure exactly what you’re caught up in, but you know it’s too late to back out. Whatever is going on, whatever thing took Will and transported him to some unknown place with possibly the same powers that El has, you know it’s your responsibility to handle it.

“Yes,” you respond, and the boys all sigh with relief. “Just one question though,”

Dustin sighs. “Yes, Y/N?”

“How did it take you guys so long to set fire to the school? Honestly, Jonathan and I thought it’d happen sooner.”

“You’re hilarious.” Mike deadpans, which only causes you and El to giggle together again.

“I hate to ruin the good mood, but we seriously need to figure out what Will meant when he said that wherever he is ‘is like home’.” Your brother interrupts.

Mike spins to face him. “He said, ‘like home, but dark’, right?”

“And ‘empty’.” Lucas adds.

“‘Empty’ and ‘cold’. Wait, did he say cold?” Dustin asks the group.

You nod your head. “You mentioned cold earlier.”

Lucas throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “The stupid radio kept going in and out!”

“It’s like riddles in the dark…” Your brother sighs, which you hum in agreement to.

Will’s words were pretty vague, but you wish you had been there at the middle school as well. Maybe if you had heard the tone of Will’s voice, you’d be of more help.

Mike continues to mumble about “like home” and “dark” for a few more seconds, now pacing around the room. You watch from the couch, El still resting with her head in your lap, and as you’re playing with her hair she finally speaks up after having been silent for a while.

“Upside down.”

“What’d she say?” Lucas asks.

“Upside down? I guess?” Is all you can tell him.

“What?”

While you, Dustin, and Lucas are confused by El’s words, Mike rushes over to the forgotten board from a few days ago and sits down. He frantically flips it over and motions for you to come and join him. You hesitate for a second, but he only doubles down on his waving you over, so you gently lift El’s head up and walk over.

“God, took you long enough.”

“I was literally three feet away from you on the couch, why did I have to move?”

Mike ignores your question and begins to explain the thirty million thoughts flying through his head at the moment, “When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember?”

You nod, slowly understanding where he’s going with this. “She flipped it upside down.”

“Exactly! Dark. Empty.”

Lucas looks over at you and Dustin, unamused. “Do you understand what he’s talking about?”

“No,” your brother says at the same time as you saying “the upside down part? Yes. The dark and empty part? No.”

Mike tries to explain further. “Guys, come on, think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?”

“You mean last night when they found Will’s body in the water?” You ask, not really understanding where Mike is going with all this.

“Like Y/N said, he wasn’t there.” Lucas reminds everyone, but Mike still tries to get his point across.

“But what if he was there? What if we just couldn’t see him, what if he was on the other side?”

You think about Jonathan’s words from earlier today in the car while on the way to the funeral home, trying to calm down from his fight with his mom. He had told you about how Joyce was convinced that Will was in the walls within their home, that the body they saw in the morgue hadn’t been his.

“Hold on,” you interrupt Mike, “you guys said that there was some, like, banging where Will was, right? And that he had been begging his mom to come get him?”

“Yeah, it was like some sick sci-fi movie!”

You glare at your brother. “Ignoring you. Anyways, did you guys hear Mrs. Byers on the radio as well?”

Mike shakes his head. “No, all we could hear was the banging and something... Growling, I guess.”

Knowing Joyce, you’d bet money that the banging had been her. You know that the next time you go over to their house, the walls might actually be destroyed, but she’d been right all along. Will is alive, he has to be. The pieces that you’ve slowly been collecting this past week fall together one by one.

“That explains the walls and the weird monster thing in Jonathan’s picture,” you mumble to yourself, but Lucas hears you.

“Do I wanna know?”

You purse your lips. “Let’s focus on figuring out where Will is, then I’ll tell you guys what I’ve been up to this week.”

“Okay, so,” Mike begins again, now grabbing the board game and flipping it onto its normal, light side. “What if this is Hawkins,” he flips it upside down onto its dark side, “and this is where Will is?”

“The Upside Down.” You finish for him.

“The Upside Down.” Mike confirms.

Slowly Dustin follows along. “Like the Vale of Shadows.”

Somehow you always end up the one confused when it comes to these damn kids. “The Vale of Shadows? What the hell is that?”

Dustin runs over to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick binder full of paper, but as he flips through it you realize it’s a rulebook for Dungeons and Dragons. He lands on the page he’s looking for, and you feel your shoulders drop. Great. More confusing terminology ahead.

“‘The Vale of Shadows’,” he begins to read, “‘is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters’.”

“Wait, didn’t you say something about a monster, Y/N?” Lucas asks, but you shush him so you don't miss whatever else Dustin will say next.

“‘It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it’.” He finishes.

His words hang in the air for a moment, but Mike, always somehow three steps ahead, pieces it together. “An alternate dimension.”

Lucas finally accepts what’s happening. “But how do we get there?”

“I’m sorry, we?” You look between all three boys, their faces still young and holding the childish innocence that you once had yourself. “No, there’s no ‘we’ in this. I may not know much about alternate dimensions, but there’s no way I’m letting you guys try to find and go to one.”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Well what choice do we have? Do you want to tell that mean police chief about this?”

“I…well… I mean-no.” You sink down in the seat, annoyed that Mike is right. No way Hopper believes any of this, you hardly believe any of it.

“Can we cast shadow walk?” Dustin focuses back on the conversation at hand.

You don’t bother to ask what that means.

“In real life, dummy.” Lucas reminds him.

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” Your brother’s eyes land on El, who is still laying on the couch, silent and unmoving. “Maybe she can.”

The four of you turn towards the girl, and Mike voices his own question. “Do you know how we get there? To the Upside Down?”

El meets your eyes, and you can see that she’s hesitant about something. She’s been quieter than usual, almost suspiciously so, and you know that the more Mike figures things out, the more hesitant she becomes. She shakes her head at you, and you give her a sad smile.

Lucas flings his head back and groans. “Oh my god!”

Mike and Dustin seem to be thinking the same thing, disappointed by El’s lack of help. You don’t blame them, also frustrated by the fact that it feels like you guys are so close to discovering something big. You can feel hope reignite in your chest; you haven’t been this close to an explanation about Will all week. This has to be it. It’s the only way you can explain everything that’s been happening lately.

Speaking of which:

“Remember how I mentioned Barb and a possible monster?”

You tell them everything, about Jonathan’s worry for his mom, how their phone got charred by lightning, Hopper’s theory that Will had been running from something, Nancy and Barb attending Steve’s party and how Barb had been on her own near the woods. You tell them about how Barb has been missing ever since and the photos Jonathan took (leaving out the horrible ones of Nancy) that Nancy brought to your attention at the funeral home. The figure in the background, looming over Barb, how it didn’t seem to have a face.

Then you tell them about Joyce and her spiral, though now you know she actually wasn’t crazy. You tell them about the Christmas lights and Will communicating with her through them. How she claimed that she could hear him through the wall and that the body in the quarry hadn’t been him.

When you’re finally done catching them up, they stare at you with their jaws open.

“Dustin,” Mike says, “remind me to never leave your sister out ever again.”

“Noted.”

–

The events from the day had left El exhausted and she refuses to say anything else after you explain everything to the boys. Her eyes droop while Mike interrogates you for answers you can’t give him, so finally you take pity on the poor girl and tell him that you’ll talk more in the morning.

Mike isn’t too happy about being shut down, but when you point towards a half asleep El he reluctantly gives in. “Fine, but as soon as the funeral is over we’re discussing this further.”

Right. Will’s funeral is tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure,” you tuck your hair behind your ears and motion over to Dustin. “We need to go, it’s late and mom will be wondering where we are.”

He tries to argue with you but you just gather your things and head for the stairs. There’s still a lot you need to think about and a million things you need to sort before the funeral tomorrow. Did Jonathan even buy the coffin? Who had made the arrangements after you and him left the funeral home with Nancy?

There’s a lot you need to talk about when you call him tonight.

The bike ride home with Lucas and Dustin is a quiet one, both boys understanding that you need some time to think about everything you learned tonight.

You make a list in your head of what you do know, but it’s a frustratingly short list.

1) El, one way or another, has powers that enable her to communicate with Will in some weird upside down universe that you can’t actually get to (can you even count this as something you know?)

2) Hopper was right: Will went missing because he was running from something (probably the same faceless thing that’s in Jonathan’s photo).

3) Whatever took Will also took Barb, bringing Nancy into this wonderfully confusing mess (you still don’t know if her involvement is a good or bad thing).

Everything else? You have no fucking clue what’s going on.

When you get home with Dustin, it’s late; the two of you have to sneak past your mom, who fell asleep with Mews on her lap in the living room. Dustin heads straight for his room but you stop him, motioning for him to come into yours for a second.

“What-”

“Shh!” You quickly shut your door to ensure that your mom won’t hear anything.

Dustin groans. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna yell at me?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I yell at you guys twice after years of patience, now suddenly I’m a screaming monster,” he doesn’t say anything and flings himself onto the bean bag by your bed. “Anyways, we’re long overdue for a code blue.”

Your brother shoots up from the bean bag, eyes wide. “No.”

“Yes,” you join him on the bean bag. “Code blue time, we’re going to talk about our feelings after the hellish week we’ve had. C’mon, you know the drill.”

Code blue was something the two of you came up with when your dad left. You had been twelve when it happened, Dustin had been nine. It’d been a really rough few months for you guys, dealing with the betrayal of your dad while also moving away from your hometown in Virginia all within a year. Neither of you had adjusted well to the sudden changes, and though you were angry and bitter about what had happened, the moment you saw that it was affecting your brother you decided to implement code blue.

It’s simple, really. Whoever calls for a code blue gets to talk about or ask whatever they want while the other is required to answer. Originally it was so that you could force Dustin into telling you his feelings, but over the years it’s become a way to bond with each other and know that no matter what you’ll be there for one another. No half truths or a vague “I’m fine”; it’s a time for you guys to be vulnerable with one another without using it as leverage against the other.

Dustin plops his head back down. “Fine, but I’m tired so can this be quick?”

“Hey, no complaining during code blue. That’s like, rule number one.”

“Y/N.” His tone is one of annoyance and you know that if you don’t start talking soon then you’ll lose his interest.

“Right, sorry. Okay,” you clear your throat and face your brother. “Today’s code blue topic is this: I’m worried about you getting your hopes up about Will. We don’t know that he’s alive just yet.”

As expected, Dustin is unhappy with what you’ve said. “We do know that he’s alive, I heard him on the heathkit. He’s alive, Y/N.” He sees the uncertainty on your face and doubles down on what he’s saying. “He is.”

You bite your lip, scared that you’ll say the wrong thing. “Dustin, nothing is certain. Even though we’re definitely onto something, and while I believe that you heard Will on the radio, that doesn’t change the fact that there’s something else out there that wants to hurt him. I mean, he’s trapped in some weird alternate dimension that we have no idea how to even get into. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

You think about the way your brother’s face fell when they pulled Will’s body out of the water. How the hope that had been in his eyes immediately died alongside his childhood naivety. He had built all of his hope upon a shaky foundation; the moment it collapsed he fell apart.

“Look I know you’re trying to look out for me, but Will is a part of the party. He’s our friend, we can’t just lose hope and leave him behind. He needs us.” Dustin speaks with so much certainty and an aura of maturity that almost makes you forget that he’s twelve.

“I’m not saying it’s dangerous to have hope, but I need you to promise me that you’ll protect yourself from whatever happens next. How’s that sound?”

Dustin thinks for a moment, tapping a finger against his chin. “Hmm, I think I can make that deal if you promise the same thing. I mean, c’mon, it’s obvious that you’re the sensitive one out of the two of us. You and hope? Doomed.”

You laugh, knowing he’s right. You’ve always been branded by hope; hopeful for love, for dreams, and for those who may not always deserve it. You and hope haven’t always gotten along, but she’s become a familiar friend.

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, it’s late and I have to call Jonathan and catch him up on everything, so let’s conclude code blue with its mandatory hug.”

“Woah woah woah, I don’t think we gotta-”

Dustin’s words become muffled as you throw yourself on top of him and squish him into a hug. He squirms against you for a second, claiming he can’t breathe, but you shush him and force him to accept the hug. Though you won’t ever tell him this, losing Will has only made you more appreciative of having a wonderfully annoying little brother.

After code blue, Dustin goes to his room claiming that “alternate dimensions are super draining”, and before he leaves you tell him to be ready tomorrow by nine for the funeral and that your mom will take him. You’ll be at the Byers’ helping Jonathan.

Once he’s gone you give yourself a few moments to sit in silence, letting the events from today settle over you. It seems like all you’ve felt this week is exhaustion and hurt and at the rate everything is going, there’s no telling how long you’ll feel this way.

The moment you’re done wallowing you roll off the bean bag and walk over to your desk to call Jonathan. You’re honestly not sure what you’ll even tell him tonight, there’s no way you’ll be able to cover everything before the night ends. The two of you have a long day tomorrow, so you figure you’ll have to make do with the limited time you have and summarize.

Jonathan answers after a few rings. “How’d your little secret mission go?”

You make a face. “Is it even a secret mission if I told you I was going on it?”

“It is if you refuse to tell me what you did during it.”

“Touche, bee.”

He laughs, which sends a cascading warmth throughout your body. You can envision him perfectly on the other end of the line, leaning against his kitchen wall with the phone wire wrapped around his finger as he absent mindedly fiddles with it while he talks to you.

You clear your throat and shake the thought from your mind, you called him for a reason. “Anyways… we need to talk.”

Jonathan is silent for a moment and you can feel the playfulness fade away. “Yeah, you first though. You already know what Nance and I were up to.”

Nance?

Awesome. Cool. Totally not going to be consumed by that later.

“Right. Uh, well. I went looking for Dustin because the other night when I was with the boys we stumbled upon this, well, this little girl.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, she’s bald.”

“Okay… is that important or…?”

“Unsure, but it felt important to tell you. Sorry,” you take a deep breath, “I’m not sure why I’m so nervous right now.”

“It’s okay, bug. It’s me, you can tell me anything.”

No I can’t.

“Sure, yeah, totally. Um, so anyways we found her, her name is El, and she’s our only connection to Will right now.”

A beat of silence. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she kinda has… powers?”

“Powers,”

“Powers.”

You hear Jonathan sigh on the other end of the call. “Bug, you’re not seriously telling me that the boys have somehow dragged you into one of their little schemes, right?”

Yeah, he’s reacting exactly how you figured he would.

“I know what it sounds like, but Jonathan… How else would you explain everything going on? Will disappeared, Barb did too, your mom and her lights. Now that thing Nancy saw in the woods, which I know you definitely have an update that will only further prove how weird this all is.”

Again Jonathan is quiet, and this time you envision him pacing little circles in the kitchen as he carefully thinks through your words, trying to piece it all together. “We developed the photo again and you’re right, there’s something behind Barb in it.”

You close your eyes and exhale. “So, you believe me now?”

“Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“You don’t.”

“Then we’ll talk about it after the funeral tomorrow.” He concedes.

“Yeah,” you let out a shaky breath, “the funeral. I’ll make my way over the second I wake up tomorrow to help with everything.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know.”

More silence settles over the two of you. It’s still hard to wrap your head around the fact that it was only a week ago where everything was normal. No disappearances, no weird feelings, no heartbreak and confusion.

“Bug?” Jonathan is practically whispering.

“Yeah?”

“Lonnie is here.”

The words hit you hard. Why the fuck is Lonnie back in Hawkins? “Do you need to spend the night? I can finally bake those cookies for your mom and we can watch whatever you want.”

“No,” he sounds exhausted. “He hasn’t been a problem yet, and I can’t…”

“Leave your mom with him?” You finish.

“He thinks she’s crazy and her axing down one of our walls doesn’t help-”

So you were right, Joyce did indeed break down her wall to try and get to Will.

“Jonathan, it’s okay. I understand, stay with her and get some rest. Sleep, that’s an order.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “I love you, bug.”

Like how I love you?

“I love you too, bee.” The words burn your tongue.

“Goodnight,”

“Sleep well.”

–

You’re up before the sun this morning.

You spent hours tossing and turning last night, hardly getting any sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to turn your mind off. All you could think about was Jonathan, his smile and his voice and the way he kisses your forehead whenever you’ve done something especially endearing to him. You were surrounded by him last night.

Now you stand outside his front door holding a tin of cookies, dressed in a simple knitted black dress and tights with mary janes that used to belong to your mom for Will’s funeral. The shoes are your favorite, but now you’re afraid they’re tainted by the occasion you’re wearing them for.

It’s Lonnie who opens the door. “Well if it isn’t little miss Henderson. I missed ya, sweetheart.”

You haven’t seen the man in two years, having been fourteen when he left Joyce and the kids. Since then he’s only aged horribly, his eyes slightly yellowed and his beer gut now more prominent. Clearly he still prefers alcohol over human company. Figures.

“Can’t say the same about you.” Your shoulder hits his as you walk in and he lets out an annoyed huff.

The man follows you but you pay him no attention. Instead you head straight towards Joyce and the second she sees you she runs into your arms; you only have a few seconds to place down the cookies before she’s in your arms.

“Y/N! You’re here!” She squeezes you tight and you melt into her embrace. She’s always given the best hugs whenever you’ve needed the comfort, but now it’s your turn to be the one offering the support.

“Of course, Mrs. Byers. Who else will make sure Jonathan is ready on time?” You mean for it to be a joke, but the way that Joyce’s eyes harden tells you that the funeral is a sore topic for her. She still doesn’t believe that Will is dead and it breaks your fucking heart that you can’t tell her she’s right.

Joyce wipes away a tear before pulling away. She goes to say something before seeing the tin of cookies on the counter; she immediately pulls you into another hug. “Oatmeal raisin,”

“They’re your favorite.”

“And Will’s.”

“And Will’s favorite. You know I gotta take care of my Byers.” You whisper into her ear, feeling Lonnie’s eyes on you during the exchange. You have to bite back your tongue, though his presence always makes you feel a type of anger that’s normally foreign to you.

Joyce pulls away and you know it’s taking everything in her to give you a smile. “You’re too good, sweetie,” she tucks a loose strand of hair that came out of its braid. “Jonathan’s in his room.”

You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, trying to convey just how much you love and admire her into a simple gesture, before letting go and walking over to Jonathan’s door.

He’s struggling with his tie when you let yourself in. He’s dressed in the only nice white button down he owns, something he bought for his aunt’s funeral a few years ago that now hardly fits. You can tell that he’s getting frustrated with the tie, so you walk over and help.

“Here, let me,” you wrap your fingers around the piece of cloth and quickly fashion it into a tie. The two of you don’t talk while you fix the clothing and you know that today will be a wordless day with Jonathan.

When you’ve finished, you begin to pull away before he places his hands around yours. He cups your hands at the base of his neck as they rest against his collarbones; your fingers are still wrapped around his tie. He squeezes your hands and brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles so softly that you feel all the love within you simmer.

You know he’s only trying to express his gratitude for you but the butterflies in your stomach make you feel faint.

You’d do anything for him.

–

The funeral has a surprising turnout, not because you ever doubted Will’s incredible ability to be loved by anyone he meets, but because you see faces in the crowd who you’ve never seen before.

You stand behind Jonathan during the funeral with your hand on his shoulder as he sits with his family in a weak attempt to provide comfort during the service. It’s really fucking bleak. Your other hand is on Dustin’s shoulder as he stands next to you while Mike and Lucas are to the right of him.

Your mother is in the back of the crowd having known she’d cry the entire service, and faintly you can hear her blow her nose into a tissue and sniffle.

The pastor drones on for a while about how a tragedy like this won’t separate everyone from God’s love, but if attending the funeral for a twelve year old boy is how God shows his love then you want no part in it. Joyce sits stoic alongside Lonnie, Jonathan hasn’t moved at all since the service began; they’re a family brought together by grief. This isn’t love.

“Just wait until we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral,” Dustin snickers, effectively breaking you from your thoughts. You hit his shoulder and shush him as Mrs. Wheeler reminds the boys to be quiet. You flash her an apologetic smile for your brother’s actions.

You know how firmly the boys believe Will is alive and you honestly can’t say you don’t think so as well, but nothing is certain. Even if he’s alive there’s no way you guys can get to wherever he is; you wish the boys would use some caution with how quickly they’re building their hopes up.

After the service you walk up to Will’s grave and bend down. You bring one of the yellow roses from the funeral director up to your lips and whisper, “If you’re out there little bee, please, come home.”

Before dropping the rose in you give it a gentle kiss, inhaling its sweet scent and watching as it falls down onto his coffin. Jonathan finds you there crouched down and sees the rose right as it lands. He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs your hand and helps you stand up to bring you over to where Nancy is waiting a couple yards away.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t have it in you to do anything other than wave at the girl, but she seems to understand and gives you a sympathetic smile.

Soon the three of you are settled on the ground with your backs against an old rickety fence behind some tombstones. Jonathan is in the middle of you and Nancy and you rest your head against his shoulder, already exhausted from the day. It’s not the coziest spot to be sitting, but at least you’re away from prying eyes.

Once you’re seated, Jonathan finally talks for the first time today. “Alright, I already told you this over the phone last night bug, but Nancy was right. After we redeveloped the photo there’s definitely some kind of figure behind Barb, and we thought maybe if my mom has been right all along about some monster-”

“Then she’s right about Will being alive.” You finish for him, having already come to the same conclusion yourself.

“And Barb has to be alive if Will is.” Nancy says, and there’s a spark of hope in her voice that surprises you. You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t think her and Barb were that close, but seeing how worried she’s been for the girl makes you realize that you’d been a fool not to have seen it sooner. Barb was Nancy’s closest friend. You don’t know what you’d do if Jonathan ever disappeared like Barb did.

Jonathan pushes your head with his shoulder. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

You look between him and Nancy and try to decide how much you should tell them. While you’ve already told Jonathan a little bit about El, you’re not sure if you can trust the information with Nancy. However, seeing her urgency to find her friend leaves you feeling a bit safer disclosing the information to her.

“It started the night after Will disappeared…”

It takes a while to tell them everything, and while Jonathan butts in a few times to ask questions, Nancy remains silent and eagerly listens. She nods when she’s supposed to, engages with the story as if her life depends on it. You’re incredibly impressed by her intelligence and openness to the situation at hand. Had it been anyone else they would’ve scoffed at you and called you insane. But Nancy? She holds onto every word and trusts that what you’re saying is true.

You’re starting to admire her, as painful as it is to admit. But Nancy Wheeler is fucking brilliant, there’s no denying that.

When you’re finally done explaining El and the Upside Down, Nancy finally speaks. “Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly, you’ve been helping my brother harbor a girl with superpowers in my basement?”

Huh.

You hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Ya know, you make a good point.”

Thankfully she laughs and doesn’t seem too upset, which relieves you. You reassure her that they’re fine and that El is someone you trust, and Nancy seems to take comfort in your words. It’s not that you purposely hid the situation from her, but looking back you definitely could’ve used her help now that you know how cool she is.

As the two of you are laughing, Jonathan pulls out a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” You ask.

He shows you. “I printed out a map of Hawkins and drew x’s on every place we know for sure the monster has been.”

“Two questions: one, so we’re officially calling it the monster now? And two, why don’t you ever put in this much effort for school projects we do together?”

Jonathan flicks the paper in your face. “Funny. And yes, we’re calling it the monster now. Can you pay attention please?”

“Sorry,”

Nancy shuffles in closer and her head is practically on Jonathan’s shoulder as well (you’re choosing to ignore that) and she studies the paper and points to one of the x’s. “So that’s-”

“Steve’s house,” Jonathan points to another x, “and that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike and where Y/N last saw him,” the familiar feeling of guilt washes over you, “and that’s my house.”

Nancy reaches over Jonathan and grabs your hand, surprising you both. “You saw Will last?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, your mouth now suddenly dry.

“I’m sorry,” her tone is sincere.

“We should get back to the map…” You dodge, highly uncomfortable with Nancy’s comfort. You appreciate it, but you’ve never been good at accepting help from others.

“Right, sorry,” Nancy clears her throat. “The x’s, they’re all so close.”

Jonathan observes the interaction with slight confusion but decides not to say anything besides, “Yeah, exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s not traveling far.”

There’s a look in his eyes as he speaks, one of determination and disdain for whatever that thing is, and before you can tell him no, it’s Nancy who voices your concern first. “You want to go out there.”

Jonathan nods and you feel uneasy. “I trust you won’t try going alone again, right?” It’s a question, but he hears the underlying try and I’ll kill you hidden beneath your words.

“No, not this time… but we might not find anything.”

“I found something,” Nancy reminds him, which you nod at. She’s the only one out of the three of you who has seen the monster in person, and if you had to place any bets, she’s the one who will be able to figure out what the fuck to do with it.

Actually, what are you guys going to do?

“Do we, like, have a plan for after we’re done monster sightseeing? Or are we just going to take a look at it and call it a night?” You ask the two of them.

Nancy bites her lip and looks down, also unsure what exactly the three of you are supposed to do. It’s Jonathan who remains stone faced, and there’s a newfound sense of confidence within him that you’ve never seen when he boldly states, “We kill it.”

“Alright there tough guy,” you hit his chest with your hand and snort. “Sure, we kill it. Obviously.”

“Well, do you have any other ideas? For all we know, Mike and the others will be out there in those woods later looking for Will.”

“We don’t know that-”

“Bug, humor me, how did they find El again?”

You’re silent. He’s right, if you guys don’t go and find this monster before tonight then there’s a high chance the boys and El will find it themselves. Fuck.

“Nancy,” you say to the girl, “it seems like we’re now officially monster hunters.”

–

Of course Lonnie has a goddamn handgun just casually stored in his glove box.

You’re not entirely on board with this whole gun situation and apparently Nancy isn’t either, immediately questioning Jonathan when he picks the lock to get the gun.

“What, you want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it? Better yet, why doesn’t Y/N just round up the boys and El and have them take it down.”

“Okay, hey,” you point at Jonathan. “Out of line.”

He mumbles an apology under his breath while Nancy claims that this is all a terrible idea. You’re not sure where you fall in regards to what’s happening, but you’d say at the moment you’re a solid mix between Jonathan’s no time for nonsense mood and Nancy’s hey let’s slow down hesitation.

You kick a rock and watch as it dings against Lonnie’s car, which pleases you. “Oh it’s definitely a terrible idea, Nancy. Unfortunately it’s all we have going for us at the moment.”

Jonathan nods at your words. “She’s right, no one’s going to believe us if we tell them. You know that.”

“Your mom would.” Nancy responds, jutting her jaw out in defiance.

You cringe, unsure how Jonathan will respond to what she’s said. Joyce is a sore topic for him, he’s always been so protective of her.

“She’s been through enough,” he sighs, and you hum in agreement.

Nancy grows more frustrated. “She deserves to know!”

You step in between them. “Look, you’re right. Mrs. Byers deserves to know, but right now she isn’t well enough to handle the idea of her only remaining son actively seeking out a monster that may have taken her other son who could possibly be alive. If we’re wrong or Jonathan gets hurt, it might actually kill her.”

“Yeah, we’ll tell her when this thing is dead.” You note Jonathan’s word choice, saying “when” instead of “if”. In the four years you’ve been his friend, you’ve never seen him so self-assured before. You’d be proud of him if the circumstances weren’t so damn grim.

“What about the kids?” Nancy finally says after a few seconds of silence.

“They can’t get involved, I won’t let them.” You tell her and she nods as if expecting you’d say that.

She gestures over to the funeral home where the crowd of attendees are now gathered for the post burial service. “I know my brother, so you better go and tell him that they need to stay at our house while we deal with the monster. They like you better than they like me, they’ll listen to you if you explain what we’re doing.”

You’re flattered by her words, honestly. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas listening to you about staying put while you guys go monster hunting? They’d be out the door before you’d be even able to finish saying the phrase “monster hunting”. No way they’ll listen, and you’re about to say exactly that before catching the look Jonathan is giving you.

You groan at him. “You don’t actually believe they’ll listen to me, right? C’mon, you know those boys as well as I do. This is just a giant DnD game for them at this point.”

He shrugs, “It doesn’t hurt to try?”

Nancy gives you a hopeful look and bats her eyelashes at you, which, okay, shouldn’t work on you but does. Jonathan does the same, except instead of batting his eyelashes he winks at you and suddenly you’re very confused by the onslaught of emotions that wash over you.

“Ugh, fine. But when they show up in the woods later you guys are on your own!”

–

When you step inside the service hall, everyone is gathered into small groups talking amongst themselves. You scan the room for the kids and spot them across the room sitting at a table with Mr. Clark. He’s talking to them about something while holding a paper plate up. You’re not sure what exactly he’s saying to the boys, but they’re leaning in close to him and are listening intently.

This worries you.

You try to make your way over as quickly as you can, but being Jonathan’s best friend has some challenges. Every few steps you take you’re stopped by an extended family member of the Byers to ask how you are or a stranger stops to offer you their condolences because you’re close with the family. You do your best to make small talk and thank the people, but you don’t have time to say much else besides, “thank you” or “you were Will’s favorite great aunt”.

By the time you finally get to the table with Mr. Clark and the boys, the man has folded up the paper plate and stabs it with a pen. You really, really don’t want to know whatever the hell this man is explaining to the kids.

“You create a doorway,” he explains, holding up the plate and smiling at the boys.

Dustin looks enthralled. “Like a gate?”

“Sure, like a gate. But again, this is all-”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, nodding his head.

A gate?

What are the odds the boys are talking about a gate to Disneyland?

You sigh, not liking the odds at all.

You slide yourself into Dustin’s chair and force your brother to share with you. He squeaks in surprise and you flash him a tight lipped smile, which causes him to gulp. He knows he’s been busted.

Mike scoffs at your arrival. “Gee, wonder why you’re here Y/N.”

“Go on, continue this conversation with Mr. Clark here. I wanna hear it.”

Mr. Clark looks at you uncertainly but Mike simply carries on with the conversation as if you aren’t even here. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did I think we’d know.”

You snort. “Wanna bet?”

Again the man looks at you uncertainly and clears his throat, uncomfortable by your presence. “What I mean to say is that it would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment.”

“So if there is a gate, it’d be really bad?” You ask, but you already know the answer.

“Oh, definitely. It might even swallow us up whole!”

You and the boys look around the table at one another, not at all liking what Mr. Clark is saying. Swallow you guys up whole? That’s not really something you’re interested in.

Mr. Clark sees your nervousness and shrugs. “Science is neat, but it’s not very forgiving.”

Silence falls upon the table.

Mr. Clark is such a peachy person.

“Well!” You throw your hands upon the table and the loud noise causes everyone to flinch. “Thank you so much for that lovely information, Mr. Clark. It was truly riveting, but would you mind giving me and the boys a second alone? I just, I want to make sure they’re doing okay after today.”

You bat your eyes at the man, something you never do, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. The second he’s gone you snap your finger in the boys’ faces. “Hey, listen up. Whatever you guys are planning? Don’t.”

As usual, Mike is the one who argues. “But-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what we’re-”

“No.”

“Can you at least let me-”

“Sure,”

“Really?”

“No.”

Lucas and Dustin watch the interaction with slight pleasure, amused by your ability to shut Mike up, but when he turns to them for help they reluctantly give in.

“Y/N,” Dustin sighs, “honestly, how many times are we gonna do this whole ‘we’re not allowed but we’re going to do it anyways’ bit?”

You glare at your brother. “However many times it takes for you guys to finally listen.”

“Cool. Then we’ll expect you to bust down Mike’s door later tonight.”

“I’m not kidding,” you face all the kids and make sure they’re listening. “Whatever you’re trying to do, don’t. Jonathan and I-”

“You told Jonathan?” Mike exclaims but Lucas shushes him.

“We’re going to handle it, we already have a plan but whatever you do: stay out of the woods from here on out. We think… We think there’s a monster out there hiding. I just want to make sure you guys are safe.”

“Monster hunting?” Dustin’s eyes light up and you silently curse Jonathan and Nancy for even suggesting you do this in the first place.

“Technically… yes, but you guys absolutely have to stay put.”

They stare at you as if you’re insane.

“You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” Dustin asks.

You flick his head. “Yes, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you guys right now. I’ll let you guys do whatever you want so long as it doesn’t include the woods. Until you get an all clear from me, it’s off limits.”

Mike thinks this over. “Can we look for the gate then?”

You sigh. There’s no other way to appease them. “If you don’t go near the woods… then fine.”

The boys begin to cheer, which causes several funeral guests to stare at you with judgment. You realize now that this probably hadn’t been the right setting to have this conversation in. Oh well.

You don’t let the boys cheer for long. “However-”

“There she goes,” Lucas sinks into his seat and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I get full updates whenever I please. I don’t care if I have to track you guys down from the gates of hell itself, but I will find you and you will tell me everything. Deal?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike gather close together and duck their heads down so whisper to one another. You roll your eyes but wait for them to finish. When they’ve reached a decision, Mike interlocks his fingers and places his hands on the table. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

–

As soon as you’ve changed out of your funeral clothes and into a simple pair of jeans and a sweater, Jonathan arrives at your house. You kiss your mom’s cheek before leaving and shout over your shoulder, “Remember the deal, Dustin!”

You don’t quite catch what your brother responds with but you honestly don’t care enough as you run over to Jonathan’s car and hop into the passenger seat.

“You certainly didn’t waste any time getting here,” you say in lieu of a hello.

Jonathan shrugs. “No time to waste when it comes to monster hunting.”

“You do realize that we’re only scouting out the woods tonight, right?”

You, Jonathan, and Nancy had decided earlier to simply go and explore the woods for any clues of the monster and then figure out how, or even if, you can kill it.

“I know, but monster hunting sounds cooler.”

“Bless you, bee.”

The two of you get to the field in no time. Jonathan had been the one to suggest the spot a few yards behind his house for target practice and Nancy had agreed to bring a bat just in case you needed more protection.

And you?

You’re bringing the cans to serve as targets for shooting. Your family has never owned a gun and last time you checked, Dustin doesn’t play any sports, so all you can offer is your emptied recycling bin contents.

It doesn’t take long for you and Jonathan to set up the cans on top of the tree trunks before he begins shooting. Jonathan takes a deep breath and holds the gun up so it’s eye level and looks over at you. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath as well and prepare yourself, knowing it’s about to become loud. “Yeah, start shootin cowboy.”

The first shot hits a tree behind the can, nowhere near its intended target, and you wince. It’s looking like the monster might actually win at the rate Jonathan’s aim is going.

“It’s okay,” you tell your friend. “The tree looked at me funny, he had it coming.”

Jonathan snorts. “You’re laughing now, but I can’t exactly hunt a monster if I can’t even shoot it.”

“Maybe you could talk nicely to it?”

“And say what, exactly? ‘Hey, Mr. Monster, where are you hiding my brother?’”

You step closer to him so that you’re now side by side and you nudge his shoulder. “Hey, you never know. It could work.”

Jonathan readjusts his grip on the gun and aims it once more. He takes another shot, this time it lands a bit closer to the can, but not by much. He lets out an agitated, “Fuck!”

He tries shooting again and again but each shot is as unpredictable as the last. After his sixth round of firing you can see how tense his shoulders are and the way he’s clenching his fists against the weapon. You remember how he acted earlier today, the newfound anger and resentment within Jonathan that had originally impressed you. Now it only frightens you.

When he goes to re-aim the gun for the seventh time, you grab at his hand and stop him.

“Bug, what are you-”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Jonathan looks at you like you’re crazy but you simply take the gun from his hands, click the safety back on, and then walk over to the tree stumps to rest it against one of them. When you’re done you walk back over to the boy and interlock your fingers with his to drag him along.

There’s not a whole bunch of room in the clearing for a walk per say, but there’s enough to go a few laps around for Jonathan to take a breather. You’re not sure exactly what’s going on with him but a walk has never hurt anyone.

Jonathan’s silent the first lap around. You’re content with this and you admire the fall weather and enjoy the slight warmth from the sun as it kisses your face. When you’re on the third lap you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since yesterday when Nancy showed up at the funeral home.

“Do you really believe Will is alive?”

Jonathan thinks the question over for a moment, and as he’s lost in thought you notice that he begins gently swinging your hands back and forth absentmindedly. “I can still feel him.”

“Feel him?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but…”

“No, I think I get it. I mean, I’d be able to feel if something bad happened to Dustin. I know I’d be able to, even if there’s not necessarily a science behind it. It’s like there’s a lifeline connecting us, like some unspoken sibling thread that neither one of us can sever.”

“A sibling thread?” Jonathan asks, a slight laugh accompanying his question.

“Oh, you know what I mean, bee.”

“No, no. I wanna hear all about this thread theory of yours.”

Jonathan’s bright mood is back, reminiscent of the boy you once believed you knew better than you knew yourself, so you entertain his teasing if only to sustain his light a little longer. “If I explain this theory you have to promise not to laugh at me.”

“I promise,” he says and he gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Alright, but if you decide I’m insane after this, just know that you legally cannot leave me. You signed a contract.”

“Oh, did I?”

“You sure did, bee. Anyways, back to me,” a slight breeze surrounds you for a moment and you let the crisp air fill your lungs. “I have this theory that we’re all connected to each other in some way by different threads. Some threads are older than others, stronger, or maybe even more rigid, but they’re there. Whether it’s a thread between you and your family, the love of your life, or a stranger you happen to pass on the street one day, none of it happens by accident.”

“The threads are the reason it all happens?”

“Not necessarily, but yeah. To put it simply, I guess you could say that.”

“So, for our thread,” Jonathan stops walking and tugs at you to stop as well. “After everything we’ve been through, all that we’ve done for one another, what thread would you say our’s is?”

His question catches you off guard; you can hear your heart beating within your chest. There’s so many things you wish you could tell him.

Our thread is one of romance, of lovers, of soulmates, even.

The feelings build within you and the words threaten to spill out. The November sun is beginning to set and everything is golden in its light and Jonathan is a part of it all. His brown eyes are like warm honey on a cold winter morning and his hair is slightly ruffled from the wind that leaves his cheeks flushed and rosy.

“Our thread,” your voice catches in your throat for a moment. “You know what our thread is, bee.”

He pulls you closer to him and in this moment all you can focus on are the slight freckles that dot across his face and neck. “Do I?”

Jonathan has never, ever looked at you like this before. There’s an intensity within his eyes that frightens you and leaves you feeling bare before him. Does he know? Has he figured it all out?

“I…” You can’t form the words you want to say; the three words that have been weighing upon you feel even heavier than before. They’re thick on your tongue, syrupy and dense and you feel as if you can’t breathe.

“Y/N?” He whispers, but you can only shake your head.

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

And then suddenly Jonathan leans in.

Maybe you’re imagining it.

Maybe you’re delirious after almost a week of sleepless nights and exhausting encounters.

Or maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way about you.

You lean in as well and allow yourself to close your eyes; you believe that just this once you can be selfish and accept more than you may deserve.

“Hey! Guys!”

Nancy’s shout causes you and Jonathan to spring apart.

You want to scream.

Of course it’s Nancy fucking Wheeler.

Jonathan drops your hand and waves the girl over while you stand there, trying to collect yourself. As she walks over, you have just enough pride left over to say, “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The question is one Jonathan isn’t expecting. He steps back a bit, now even more aware of the close proximity the two of you had only seconds ago. “Of course I do, bug. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend.

The words hurt more than they should, really.

“Right. Best friend, ha.” You step even further away from Jonathan, which he raises his eyebrows at.

“Did I miss something or…?”

If you had the time, you’d ask him why he wanted to know about the thread between the two of you. Why he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the entire room. Why, just minutes ago, he leaned in as if to kiss you.

But Nancy is now only a couple feet away and it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to give the two of you some privacy. You spot the bat in her hand and it serves as a reminder of what the three of you are here for in the first place.

Will, Barb, the monster.

“No, of course not,” you clear your throat and greet Nancy as she arrives. “Hey, Nancy.”

She smiles at you and then says hello to Jonathan. “Hey, where’s the gun?”

You point over to the cans and the tree stumps. “Over there, we just wanted to go for a little walk after shooting a few rounds.”

Nancy nods and walks over to inspect the undamaged cans. “You said you already shot a few rounds?”

Jonathan ducks his head down. “Yeah, well. It’s not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

“Y/N, did you try shooting?”

“Pfft, I’m definitely not a weapons kind of girl. I prefer to use my crippling good looks instead.”

While you and Nancy talk, Jonathan walks back over to the gun and reloads it. He motions for the two of you to step back and he shoots a few more times. Not once does he hit the can. You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh.

“You’re awful at this, bee.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees.

Jonathan looks over at her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

She scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Wheeler seems like the type to have a hidden gun.” You say, and Nancy waves you off.

“Well, I haven’t shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday and made me kill a rabbit.” Jonathan’s words make you frown. Every day he gives you another reason to hate Lonnie.

Nancy sympathizes with Jonathan and the two of them fall into an easy banter that you’ve never seen before with him. He’s comfortable around her in a way that makes your stomach twist. He tells her about his parents and how they may have loved each other at one point but now no longer do. He’s opening up to her after only a few days of really knowing her.

Lovely.

Nancy shares some details about her own family and how she believes her parents never loved each other, which you can relate to. You watch as Jonathan hands her the gun as she explains how her mom had been younger than her father. “He had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.”

“Isn’t it funny how the fathers never seem to suffer the same fate as the mothers?” You ask, and Nancy looks over at you in confusion, so you explain further. “My own parents, they were like yours except the moment my mom was no longer young, my dad left. Found a newer and cheaper model back home in Virginia.”

“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s not like I go and advertise it. Besides, he was an asshole anyways and my mom is better off without him. She’s the sweetest woman in the world who was forced to run back to her family in Hawkins. Nuclear families aren’t all they’re cracked out to be.”

Jonathan ruffles your hair to get you to laugh, which he succeeds in doing. “Screw that.”

Nancy raises the gun to eye level and closes one of her eyes, her beautiful face now scrunched in concentration. “Yeah, screw that.”

And with that, she shoots a perfectly aimed shot and knocks the can off the stump. You and Jonathan look at her, stunned, but she can only laugh.

“Damn, Jonathan. Remind me to never piss Nancy off.” You say, still staring at the fallen can.

Only he doesn’t hear what you’ve said because he’s too busy staring at Nancy. You can tell he’s impressed by her hidden shooting talent and the way she holds herself with such confidence. His eyes shine as he stares at her and he almost seems to come to life whenever she looks back at him.

Jonathan looks at Nancy and you know he sees what everyone in Hawkins sees: a beautiful, fierce, and incredible girl.

Nancy Wheeler, the perfect enigma.

Suddenly it clicks.

Jonathan is in love with her, or at least he’s beginning to fall in love with her.

You want to hate her. Afterall, she already has Harrington head over heels for her, and yet you can’t blame either one of the boys. She’s perfect and brilliant and everything you’re not. You’d fall in love with her too if you weren’t already in love with someone else.

You watch as Nancy and Jonathan become lost in their own little world, him helping her reload the gun as she flashes him a shy smile, and you no longer exist near their presence. It feels like a fucking stab to your already open wound of a heart. You watch the way he ducks his head down whenever she looks at him and the way she stares at him when he isn’t looking.

Nancy shoots a few more rounds and each shot feels like a hammer coming down onto your own coffin. Each time Jonathan looks at her you feel another nail enter.

Clearly there’s no room for you here.

Which is fucking ironic given that you’re in a giant field outside.

You reach for Jonathan’s hand and tug him forward. He gives you a look as if asking is everything okay? and you wish more than ever that things were different between the two of you. You give him a soft shake of the head. “I can feel a headache coming on and I just remembered that I have a shift tonight, so I should get going.”

He frowns. “But what about the monster? We can’t look for him without you.”

“You’ll be fine without me,” to your horror you can feel tears forming, which you quickly wipe away before Jonathan can notice. “I doubt I’d be any help, anyways. I suck with guns. Nancy’s the professional here.”

“I mean, I guess, but…” He looks over at Nancy, who is busy firing the gun and hitting every target she aims for, before pulling you even closer to him. “Are we okay? I feel like, I don’t know… like I’m losing you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He could never, ever lose you, but if you don’t leave now then you’re afraid that maybe you’ll lose yourself.

“Don’t be silly, bee. You’re not losing me, no matter how much you may want me to.” You try to tease him, but your heart isn’t in it.

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N. Are we okay?” He’s looking at you with so much adoration and concern in his eyes that it almost makes you sick.

“Of course we are. I promise. I think it’s all just catching up to me, if I’m being honest. Between finding Will and tracking down my own brother, I think this monster hunting business may break me.”

Jonathan eyes you for a moment as if to try and catch you in a lie, but while you’re only telling him this as an excuse to get away from him and Nancy, it’s not technically a lie. You are exhausted. Plus, you really do have a shift.

The boy scans your face once more before deciding that you’re telling the truth. You know he suspects there’s something else behind your words, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. “Let me tell Nance that I’m driving you home,”

And there it is again.

Nance.

The nickname is like a punch to your gut and only solidifies that you should go. “It’s okay, bee. It’s still nice out, figured I’d walk home and get some sun before winter officially takes over Hawkins.”

“You can’t expect me to let you walk alone now that we know there’s a monster out there taking people, bug.”

You kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for a little longer than necessary. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Stay with Nancy and call me tonight after you guys are done scouting around. We’ll figure out where to go from there. Okay?”

You don’t give Jonathan time to argue because you pull away and inform Nancy of your departure. She also frowns at the idea but has already learned that you’re not one to be told what to do. She understands this aspect of you, and you understand it within her as well, so she wishes you goodbye and tells you to stay safe before going back to shooting.

As you leave, you feel Jonathan’s eyes follow after you.

–

The walk ends up being more than enough to clear your head. You haven’t had any time to be alone in god knows how long, so it’s nice to have some time to just think and enjoy the quiet. There’s a lot you need to think about, but at the very forefront of your concerns are Will and El. You still have no idea how they’re connected or how the monster comes into play.

Then there’s Steve, oddly enough.

You’re not really sure why he’s in the midst of your thoughts, but there he is. Smiling at you and laughing at your jokes and telling you that you’re pretty as he instills a carefree sense within you that feels foreign to enjoy.

As his words ring through your head, you find your thoughts drifting towards Jonathan and the way he holds your hand every time you’re worried about something and the way he kisses your hair after a particularly hard day.

You’re not sure why the two boys almost seem to clash within your mind, but you don’t have time to look into it. Your shift starts soon and god knows how long your coworker Alex can survive on his own if you’re late.

Work is slow as usual tonight, but you find the downtime a pleasant relief. It gives you the opportunity to skim some new books that shipped in and catch up on some Spidey storylines. In between stocking books and arranging comic displays you find yourself wondering just how true to his word Dustin stayed earlier.

Like hell those kids really stayed out of the woods.

Your question is answered as soon as you get home and find your brother crying in his room. Panic immediately swells within your chest and you run over to him.

“What’s wrong?” You check Dustin’s body for any sign of injury and he lets you as he cries, too upset to wave you away. When you’re assured that he’s okay, you feel your heartbeat calm down again.

Christ, everytime you see this kid he takes ten damn years off of your life.

You pull a chair from his desk and sit in front of him. “Dustin, do we need to have another code blue?”

“Maybe,” Dustin sniffles, wiping away a few tears.

“Okay, then code blue. What happened? Is everyone okay? Is it El?” At the mention of the girl’s name, Dustin flinches. Your blood runs cold. “Dustin, what happened with El?”

“You won’t yell at me?”

You smooth down his always wild hair. “Never during code blue. Please talk to me, bud.”

Dustin explains how he and the group had gone looking for the gate like they told you they would. He explained how they’d followed the train tracks throughout Hawkins for what seemed like hours.

“The train tracks that go through the same woods I told you not to go in?”

“Like hell we were gonna listen to you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

This gets Dustin to laugh a bit, which you’re relieved to see, before he continues his story. When he reveals El’s weird behavior and the way she seemed to be hiding something from them, you feel dread creep in. “Did she… Did she do something to prevent you guys from finding the gate?”

“She used her powers to mess with the compass. Lucas found the blood on her jacket.”

You sense that there’s more. “And then?”

“Mike and Lucas… they-they started fighting.” Dustin’s voice breaks, “they started really going at it, and I tried to stop them. I swear I tried, Y/N!”

“Shh,” you reach for his hand to try and calm him down. “I know you did, but I also know how Mike can get when he’s protective of someone and I know that Lucas isn’t El’s biggest fan. It was a recipe for disaster.”

Dustin snorts, “No kidding.” Then his face darkens once more, “but they wouldn’t listen, and that’s when El screamed.”

“She screamed?”

“I think she was overwhelmed, but she used her powers on Lucas and flung him across the yard and he hit his head pretty hard…”

“She what-”

“She didn’t mean to! She looked really upset after, and Lucas was fine after he woke up-”

“He was knocked unconscious?”

“And then he stormed off and El ran off. We searched for her, but…”

You stare at your brother in shock. That definitely hadn’t been what you were expecting. El never struck you as a violent girl, but she knocked Lucas out with her mind. Sure, she may have been trying to break up the fight, but you’re willing to bet that she lost control for a moment and Lucas ended up getting hurt as a result.

Maybe you don’t want superpowers.

“Y/N, have I lost all my friends?” Dustin asks.

You shush him once more. “No, of course not. You three boys have always been so drastically different from one another, and this week has been one from pure hell. It makes sense that Lucas and Mike finally snapped, but I promise you that they’ll bounce back eventually.”

“And El?”

“I’m not sure what to make of her,” you admit. “She isn’t violent, I know she’s not. But we also clearly don’t know her as well as we think we do. I just, I need you to be careful around her, okay? Fight for her, defend her like you would for the boys, but be cautious as well.”

“Cautious, got it.” He cocks his head at you, “but what about Lucas and Mike? They’re still friends, right?”

“Of course they are. Just… sometimes friendship can be hard, but it’s almost always worth fighting for. It’s rare to find friends as loyal as Mike or as brave as Lucas or even as sincere as Will. Yet look at you guys, all together; you’re all incredibly lucky to have one another.”

“Lucky like you and Jonathan?” Dustin asks, a sly glint in his eyes.

You smile, even if he’s teasing you. “Yeah, like me and Jonathan.”

Dustin returns your smile and you squeeze his hand. “Anyways, I say give Lucas some time to calm down. I think he was scared, more than anything. Tomorrow you can try to talk to him again.”

Your brother nods at your words and he seems better than he did when you first started the conversation, so you open your arms wide and engulf him into a hug.

“Code blue concluded, I guess.” Dustin mumbles against your chest, which causes the two of you to laugh.

–

After your talk with Dustin, you head back to your room and wait for Jonathan to call. You glance at the clock and figure that maybe him and Nancy were still out scouting for clues, so you busy yourself with some homework.

When it nears ten at night and the phone still hasn’t rung, you sigh and reach over for the phone on your desk. You dial Jonathan’s number and hope he simply forgot to call, but when no one answers after your fifth time calling: you begin to worry.

Ya know, maybe it wasn’t your best idea letting him and Nancy go off alone with a monster on the loose.

You find yourself frantically biking to the Wheeler’s house before you can even think about it. The night blurs past you and as you walk up their driveway and try to rest your bike against their mailbox, a familiar BMW parks next to you.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, Henderson.” Steve says as he sends you a wink.

You almost greet the boy before Tommy’s head pops out from the passenger side window. “Hey good lookin.”

You hear Carol berate him and the two begin to bicker as Steve gets out of the car.

Great. He brought the idiots.

Steve walks over and takes your bike from your hands. After a couple seconds of repositioning and balancing, he finally manages to get the bike to stay upright. “Tada!”

“I almost had it,” you glare at him.

“Sure ya did.”

Steve’s presence is frustrating as always, but you spot Jonathan’s car parked down the street and Carol’s shrill voice becomes increasingly irritating. You don’t have time for this right now. “What are you doing here, Harrington?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” When you glare at him, he finally says, “Nancy promised she’d call me but hasn’t, so I wanted to check on her.”

His sincerity is why you say, “I’m here for…” You realize you can’t necessarily tell Steve about Jonathan possibly being here. You have a feeling it wouldn’t end well, but you’re also not keen on lying to the boy. You’re already keeping secrets from practically everyone in your life; you don’t want to add Steve to the list. Not when he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m looking for Jonathan,” you confess, worried about Steve’s reaction.

He frowns. “Why would Byers be here?”

“Him and Nancy have this… thing for english. Due tomorrow. A big thing. Like, huge. So they’re working on it together. In the house. Where Nancy lives. Here.” You stumble over your words, more nervous than usual, but you weren’t expecting Steve to be here or that you’d need a cover story.

“Uh huh,” something almost aggressive flickers across Steve’s face and you silently curse to yourself. You said the wrong thing.

“Funny, Nancy told me she was only helping Byers for the funeral.”

Shit.

Tommy and Carol watch from the car, obviously amused by the whole situation.

“Right! She was, now she’s working on an assignment with him.” Technically not a lie, you’re just omitting the fact that the assignment in question is monster hunting.

“You’re really bad at lying, Henderson.” Steve walks past you, now over the conversation, and you struggle to keep up. You try to block his path, assuming that he’ll use the front door, but as you near the front step he side steps you and starts heading towards the bushes.

“What are you doing?” You whisper loudly, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

Steve ignores your whispered yelling and jumps on top of the radiator. Once he’s up, he begins to pull himself over the overhang and up onto the roof. There’s a window just above the ledge with a light on, which you presume to be Nancy’s room due to the practiced ease in which Steve scaled the house.

You don’t try to climb up after him in fear that you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself. “Ya know, Mrs. Wheeler loves me, I could’ve just knocked on the door.”

Steve peers down at you, an easygoing smile now back on his face. “Relax, this is quicker. Besides, you gotta admit it was impressive to watch.”

Again he winks at you and you feel your cheeks flush. He’s right, it had been impressive to watch; he had made it look so easy. While you struggle to come up with a witty retort, Steve almost knocks on Nancy’s window before his smile drops.

You notice the way his face hardens. “Steve?”

He doesn’t respond, which only concerns you more. You begin to think about the millions of possibilities surrounding Nancy, Jonathan, and monster hunting; fear creeps in. “Is Nancy there? Is she okay?”

“Of course you’d be worried about Nancy right now,” Steve laughs bitterly. You frown at his words, unsure what they mean, but before you can ask anything else Steve angrily climbs back down.

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?”

Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?”

“Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend.

Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

A wave of nausea hits you.

“W-what?” You drop your hand and release his jacket.

“It’s incredible, really. Byers has some fucking nerve.” Steve runs a hand through his hair in agitation and begins to pace. You’re too numb to stop him. “I mean, look at you! He has everything he could possibly want, but he decides to go after my girlfriend.”

“It’s not like that-”

“Did he tell you they’d be in her room, alone in her bed, underneath her blanket?”

More nausea hits you. “No,”

They were supposed to look for any signs of the monster in the woods. That’s all he told me, you think.

“So he’s a liar, too.” Steve scoffs, “you deserve better, Y/N.”

And with that, he heads back to his car and drives away, leaving you standing alone once more in the Wheeler’s driveway. You get a sense of deja-vu, watching Steve’s BMW descend down the street, but only this time there’s no warmth fluttering within your stomach as he leaves.

All you feel is nausea.

You don’t remember the bike ride home; you’re not sure how you even made it back safely without crashing into anything. All you remember is that you cried the entire way.

You’ve lost Jonathan, there’s no denying that now. He’s Nancy’s, wholly and truly, he’s hers.

He was never yours in the first place, you remind yourself.

But if he was never yours in the first place, then why does it feel like you were almost something?

No.

You don’t want to think about it that way.

Yours or not, you can’t afford to lose Jonathan.

Something or everything, you’ll take whatever you can when it comes to him.

Everything, anything, nothing. Whatever he gives you, you know you’ll cling onto it with all that’s within you.

But your friendship with Jonathan is too precious to lose, too meaningful to let stupid feelings ruin it. You refuse to let anything come between your friendship with him, and you swear to yourself to shove everything down. Every hurt feeling, all the pain stabbing within your chest, you force it all down to focus on finding Will.

He’s all that matters right now, even if it feels like the thread connecting you to Jonathan has begun to wither.

Will has to come first.

You have to find him, something good and lovely has to come from this. You can’t let this all be for nothing.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist - @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #jonathan the man that u are ....#and steve my beloved #cannot wait to see how yall react to the field scene i feel like an evil villain

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limerental · 4 days ago

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ficletvember 2024 - day 20

yennskier modern au

Given that their relationship is wholly casual and they are the people they are, Yennefer has zero basis to be upset over Jaskier's not prioritizing her.

He calls her three hours late on a Saturday night, bubbling over with profuse apologies and offers to make it right, and by then, Yennefer's not even angry, just feels stupid and a little hollow.

She shouldn't be surprised. This is how he's always been– forever flaky, forgetful, absorbed in his own world, onto the next bright and eye-catching thing once the shine's rubbed off what he already has.

For whatever reason, Yennefer hadn't thought it would happen with her.

She shimmies out of her black dress and sheds her tights like a snake skin and is sprawled on the couch in her sweats when Jaskier crashes into her apartment with two pints of ice cream and a cheesy smile. He's wearing a silk shirt, the sort that clings to the sweat he worked up climbing the stairs to the top floor. Maybe he ran all the way here.

“Horrible abomination for you and a normal person flavor for me,” he says and offers out her ice cream with a wrinkle of his nose. It's mint chocolate chip. Yennefer’s ordinarily pleased that he doesn’t have to ask, but what if she’d wanted something different this time.

Jaskier flounces away to rummage for spoons in her sterile, rarely-used kitchen, and the stark light haloes his hair, messy and a little greasy like he's been running his hands through it. Or like someone else has been running their hands through it.

“I really am sorry, Yen,” he says. “Lost track of time at the gym, you know. New workout routine– whew! Really sucks you right in.”

Yennefer wonders who he was with, if he even got their number or their name, if he was at the gym at all. She'd bought the tickets for the event they missed a month in advance, spent an hour this evening diffusing her hair, debated dress choices like she cared about the opinions of the vapid crowds around her. The first few missed calls and unanswered texts had sent a burning fury through her, and she'd paced and raged and hurled insults at nothing.

How dare he. How dare he.

But it's not as if it's anything new with him. It's not as if they've made any lasting promises to one another. After Geralt’s ceaseless complications and their inevitable crash and burn, the ease of falling into some nameless thing with Jaskier has been ideal. This isn't some great romance. She and Jaskier have a relationship built on commiserating and binging unhealthy food on the couch and having a lot of adventurous, eclectic, and exhilarating sex.

And yes, he knows her favorite flavor of ice cream and wears a key to her apartment on a chain around his neck and pretends she's his wife sometimes at restaurants or red carpet events and looks at her often like he’s looking now as he settles down on the couch beside her, all crushingly devoted and fond.

“Your hair looks nice,” he says. She digs her spoon deep into her ice cream and unpauses the show she'd been watching.

“I know,” says Yennefer. “My dress looked even better.”

“Wear it when I take you out tomorrow night,” he says, forgetting that he has that dinner with some network exec that he's been talking about for weeks. She doesn't bother reminding him, lets him tuck an arm around her shoulder and kiss her temple.

Years ago, she may have raged and fumed, stiffened stubbornly with the most frigid of lasting cold shoulders, but she doesn't have the energy. Instead, she lets him slip between her spread legs as he kneels on the carpet and his mouth is a revelation as always and she tries to think about anything else but being left behind.

Their ice cream melts on the end table, and she takes him to bed, riding him rough and demanding as he grips the sheets and prays aloud.

It's as fiercely good as ever. This is what they're good at, this casual sort of taking from one another, shifting the pace without words, kissing until they lose their breath.

She's not the sort of woman who pines and wallows and lets her feelings get hurt. She's cold and unfeeling and the best he's ever had, and he better accept that and shape up or risk never sleeping in her bed again.

Yennefer knows that that wouldn’t last long. She would miss him too badly.

Afterward, she curls against his back and touches her mouth between the sweat of his shoulderblades. He pulls her arm around his waist, tangles their fingers against his chest.

“Yen,” he whispers, “you're still angry with me, aren't you?”

“No,” she says. She’s not angry. She doesn’t know what she feels. “You're as much of an imbecile as you've always been. Doesn't surprise me even a little.”

He sighs and wiggles absurdly back against her and she knows he's likely to talk and talk himself to sleep the way he likes to, a ramble of meaningless drivel.

“Don't stop liking me, Yen,” he says, voice small. “I mean, I know I make it all far too difficult. I'm an utterly unreliable forgetful fool and I can't keep a thing straight and I let too much slip through my fingers but I… That is to say, I…”

“Oh hush,” says Yennefer. She can’t bear the thought of him telling her something he doesn't fully mean.

“Don't leave me,” he says on the edge of sleep, and she hates this infuriating, idiotic problem of a man. She hates that she loves him just enough to forgive him almost anything.

#my fic #it's a little ouchy bittersweet :')

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thebiscuiteternal · 10 months ago

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Okokok, finally getting at least one "Things I'll Probably Never Write" post finished, and it's the one that goes in the file drawer of "Huaisang Is Accidentally Or Intentionally Given The Wrong Impression About The Circumstances Of His Brother's Sickness And/Or Death, Blames And Ruins Himself Trying To Prevent It/Bring Da-ge Back"

(whew, god)

SO.

One night in the time period between the bonfire incident and the would-have-been-fatal qi deviation, something... weird happens at the Unclean Realms in the middle of the night. The guards who were awake at the time it happened registered it as if (to rip off a description from an early aughts webcomic) the whole world magnified with a loud "whump" noise before everything went back to normal.

While most of them don't see it as a big deal since nothing dangerous seems to have happened, a couple of guards go to wake Nie Mingjue because their sect leader would be very annoyed to only hear about it in the morning and his anger has been uuuuuuhhhhh little bit touchy ever since that last fight with his brother.

Despite the odd hour, when Nie Mingjue rolls out of bed to take the report, he feels... fine. Great even. He can't remember the last time his head was so clear and the humming bond between him and Baxia was so vibrant.

Except Baxia is also practically pacing around the inside of his skull in distress about something that she can't seem to put in words, and none of this can possibly be coincidence.

So he scatters the guards to try and find the source of the disturbance, he finds himself at Nie Huaisang's door.

They haven't spoken in weeks and Huaisang has pretty much been avoiding him and while even thinking about his little brother would piss him off just the day before, now that he's suddenly healthy again, his feelings are a lot more complicated.

He'll deal with that later though, for now, Huaisang should at least be warned of what's going on-

The door's locked. Not just locked, bolted.

Nie Mingjue's just getting ready to knock and call out when he registers the smell of blood.

A lot of it.

(rest is going under a cut for injury description and also someone writing themselves a suicidal pep talk)

Nie Mingjue and one of the guards who comes running at his shout wind up breaking down the door to Nie Huaisang's room.

Aside from the biggest/heaviest pieces of furniture, it's still pretty starkly empty since Huaisang hadn't gotten around to replacing any of the burnt stuff, which only makes the huge array on the floor and the horrible mess of a body lying on it stand out even more.

Nie Mingjue barely recognizes his own brother under all the blood from what was clearly an induced qi deviation.

By some miracle, Huaisang is still breathing when the healers arrive, but he's in such bad shape that they have to restart his heart twice before finally managing to get him into a stable coma.

If a coincidence was unlikely before, it's impossible now. Nie Mingjue knows that whatever his baby brother did to himself is the reason he now feels so healthy.

As he was lying on the floor, Huaisang was clutching a bundle of bloody papers and scrolls to his chest, so Mingjue gets what archivists they have out of bed to begin cleaning them up in the hopes of deciphering what they had to do with what Huaisang had done.

Though not everything is still legible, they gradually piece together an extremely difficult ritual that had been buried in the deepest darkest shelves of the inner family library, an early attempt at dealing with the threat the strongest sabers posed to their own wielders.

They also find a page in Huaisang's writing, also spattered in his own blood, but partially legible.

---

-udied it backwards and fo- -at least twelve times. If Da-g the current and previous Nie Zongzhu ever saw- -apparent why they never attempted it.

-a core like mine- -good as dead. Not even sure if I have enough- -instead of just a few more years.

Thinking about- -comments back in Gusu on splitting- With more people, there'd be less threat to all-

No... No, it wouldn't work.

-only if they love Nie-zongzhu more than they hate me, and even then- -keep someone from telling- -as soon as he finds out, I can already hear- -a selfish coward for asking such a thing of the sect.

And then- -right back where I started.

Doing this alone.

Better to just- -one brave thing in my life.

Besides, if it does work as outlined, then this would be the best possible outcome. Nie-zongzhu and Baxia will be themselves again, Er-g Zewu-jun and Lianfang-zun will get their sworn brother back, and the sect gets to keep the leader they actually like. And no one will ever have to tolerate me again.

Everybody wins.

---

When Nie Huaisang first hears that his brother is ill, and has been for some time, of course he immediately remembers what happened with their father. The shouting, the insults, the bruises... the feeling of hands crushing his throat.

For the briefest moment, he wonders if this means maybe his brother doesn't hate him, that it's just the sickness like it was for their father, but listening in more makes it clear that the speakers believe qi sickness mostly exacerbates problems the sufferer already had.

Which... oh.

Okay.

He gets it now.

Clearly, it means his father and brother both hated him and just managed to hide it until he, stupid selfish pain in the ass that he is, aggravated their sickness enough that it came out in the open.

And for the whole sect to have just gone along with the rages... For everyone to have been hiding this from him...

Well, then.

So when he winds up digging up an opportunity to take on all of his brother's qi poisoning, which comes with a very high possibility of killing him immediately because of the weakness of his core, comes up, he doesn't hesitate.

#mdzs #nie sect #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #whump #mostly #very slim chance of a happier ending??? perhaps???#ideas

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inhurtandincomfort · 2 months ago

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Ailesswhumptober day 5: Migraine

Finished this one just now, whew! Kinda rushed towards the end because I still have so much to work on, but I'm quite pleased with it - It's a lot less serious than most of my works, but this is the voice that came to me and I'm tired, I haven't proof read it, in the spirit of our dear Captain himself - fuck it, we ball.

TW for emeto. Not too detailed, but if you have a phobia do not read it.

Ancassius was not having a very good day. Nay, not even a good week.

First that bastard Captain Whatshisface stole that smuggling deal from right under his nose, a steady supply of Celunium that would have made him an easy fortune. It doesn't matter if someone else got there first, Ancassius is far more reliable. Truly it was their missed opportunity, not his. He's not bitter.

Then he received the devastating news that his favourite tavern -on the coast of Swabar, with that gorgeous doe-eyed barmaid- had received it's final warning and closed it's doors for the last time. And yes, the one time they ate there he and his crew had suffered horrible food poisoning, but the rum was good and the funny little mouse people played surprisingly good music. He hoped they'd be able to get work elsewhere - the wife was pregnant for gods sake!

Later that same evening his trusted quartermaster Reva informed him of a sighting of the merfolk near the Stone Forest, which meant they had to divert to take the long way. Ancassius was not going near those wretched creatures again, no thank you.

Ancassius had retired early that night without dinner, feeling a niggling tension in his head that told him he needed a good rest. ("Yes Reva I know it's poetry night, no Reva I don't think that counts as 'self-care'")

He may as well have stayed for the dreaded Crimson Rose poetry, because when he woke up, expecting a bright new day ready to be conquered, he opened his eyes-

And immediately regretted it.

He groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. Nedros' pits, it was bright. Whose idea was it to have a sun this early in the morning?

This feeling wasn't unfamiliar to him. Luckily in his experience they never last long. He rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. If he could just sleep awhile longer he's sure it'll be gone when he next wakes up...

A sharp knock on the door interrupted that thought.

"Captain," Reva's voice usually so pleasant to hear now drummed through his skull like someone was hammering nails into it. "Captain, we've arrived at the South Port. Ms. Bedell will be waiting for you."

Right. He was supposed to be meeting the head of some mercenary agency or something. What they wanted with him he didn't know, it didn't matter. He was never one to turn down potential business, he had people counting on him after all. But they were meeting a little after one in the afternoon. "That's not for hours."

A pause. "Captain, it's past noon."

What? Blearily he pushed himself to lean up and check the watch that lay on his bedside counter, squinting to see.

12:47.

He cursed. "I'll be out there," He promised, grabbing last nights shirt from the chair on which it had been flung and throwing it on, pulling on some pants from the floor and his jacket. He stood straight and let out an involuntary moan, clutching his head in one hand, the bedside table in the other for balance. A wave of nausea came over him and he gagged, bringing his fist to his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut until the feeling passed. Saints, why today of all days?

He took a deep breath, securing his pistols in their holsters. He crammed his hat on his head as he dashed out the door, wincing again as he faced the full force of the sun.

"Ah, Captain," Moira their newest member intercepted him, "Reva told me to give ya this," She practically shoved a filled water skin in his hands which he drank from immediately with a quick thanks, the cool water refreshing down his throat. Moira smiled widely and blinked owlishly at him; it was rather unnerving. "Anything else I can help with, sir?" She asked chipperly. Now Ancassius blinked.

"Uh, you can go see if Urag needs a hand," He offered lamely, though she didn't seem to notice.

"Aye, Cap'n!" She saluted (why? this was a pirate crew, not the navy) before bouncing off to the kitchen. She seemed far too eager to do what was probably chopping off fish heads or disposing of guts, but to each their own. He admired her enthusiasm at least.

Thirst suitably quenched, he savoured this last second alone to take a deep breath and adjust his jacket, and marched onward to his next battle.

"Ah, good afternoon Captain," Ms. Bedell greeted pleasantly, a polite smile on her fair face. Blonde hair was tied up in an elegant bun with loose strands framing her face, brown eyes warm and inviting. If she was upset about his tardiness, she didn't show it. "I hope this day finds you well."

Okay, she was definitely just being polite, or maybe this was her way of being snarky. He knew his hair was a mess, his clothes were rumpled, he probably reeked of alcohol and sweat and he had to be visibly swaying on his feet. He just nodded numbly, "Yeah," he forced a smile of his own, almost collapsing into his seat. It was only a simple wooden chair with a simple elegance to it. He had a feeling it was worth more than it looked. The entire room was nothing like he'd expected of a proper office; though there was a rather ornate desk present with neat stacks of papers and books piled on, instead the woman had opted to sit at a little coffee table near the window with two small couches facing each other.

"Tea?" She offered. She didn't wait for an answer, already pouring out two cups of what probably would be a nice warming herbal drink on literally any other day, but now the fragrant smell made his stomach turn. He had to get this done with as quickly as possible. He should have just rescheduled. Why didn't he reschedule?

"You have business with me?" Ancassius asked curtly, sounding a little ruder than he'd intended.

She didn't falter. "Yes. Or at least, I hope to." Her tone changed, her smile falling in favour of a more serious demeanour. "I'll cut to the chase. We've been investigating an increase of missing persons within the country. I think you may be able to help us."

Missing... persons? "What makes you think that?

"You have connections, Captain, all over the world. While we have our own sources in Aenora, we are regrettably lacking in the international department. I believe it's high time we expand our prospects, broaden our horizons." She went on about... something to do with international incidents, political crises and...Ancassius tried to listen, really he did, but lights were flashing at the edge of his vision and his head throbbed, a drumming pain far worse than it had been earlier. He really, really regretted leaving his ship.

"The likes of which... Captain? Are you alright?" A distant voice wavered, drowned out by an infernal high-pitched screech that came from within. He felt bile crawling up his throat and he leapt up, knocking into the table in the process and sprinted -or he tried, it was more like stumbling with urgency- to the door. Unfortunately he only made it a few feet down the hallway before he fell to his knees, retching painfully as the contents of his stomach emptied over the floor, not that there was much to empty. He could vaguely hear people talking but it sounded like they were underwater. Someone pulled his hair back and a glass of water was pushed to his lips which he was grateful for, washing the vile taste from his mouth. He stayed kneeling on the floor with his head down, eyes screwed shut clutching his head. It felt like it was about to split open with his ears stuffed full of cotton, everything sounded so far away except for that horrible ringing and it wouldn't stop.

Strong arms expertly hauled him to his feet and led him into a nearby room, setting him down on a soft couch, drawing the curtains closed. They said something to him he couldn't quite hear, but it was dark and he didn't have to stand or pay attention to anything anymore, it seemed like they left him alone.

He awoke some hours later to a gentle knock at the door. Blearily he opened his eyes and quickly realised he wasn't on his ship. Nor his home. What was he doing that day? Right, he'd come to talk business with some rich Lady, and...

Promptly threw up all over her nice hardwood floor.

Fuck.

Before he could decide whether he'd make it climbing out the window and fleeing down the street never to show his himself in this city again, the door opened a crack and a little bronze face poked through. Brown eyes met his and lit up, door opening wider to let herself in.

"Evening, Captain," Reva said cheerfully, dark curls dancing around her pointed ears. He was glad it was her; at least the Agency could see that one of them was responsible and took care of themselves. "We were told you'd taken a bad turn right here at the meeting place. Imagine my surprise when I was informed our smart, sensible and mature Captain needed his poor underpaid crew to come and take him home like a drunken youth. I never thought I'd be doing this for an adult man, I have to say." "You are not underpaid," Ancassius grumbled, slowly sitting up. He still felt groggy, but the pain had subsided a bit and the ringing was no longer deafening. "What time is it?"

"Just past seven. Victoria said you're quite welcome to stay as long as you need, but I know you'd much rather be back on the sea, if you're up for it?"

Ancassius raised an eyebrow at the sudden first-name usage, but didn't comment. He supposed they'd probably had much to talk about, waiting for him. How humiliating. "Yes, I would like to leave." He said quietly. Reva grinned.

"That's what I thought. Come on, up with you."

He carefully stood, still wobbly on his feet and she took his arm, embarrassing him further as he leaned on her much smaller frame doing his best to put as little weight on her as possible but she didn't seem to struggle at all. "I've already handled things with Victoria, so don't you worry there. I told her you probably want to leave without saying goodbye, and that's just fine seeing as you'll be seeing each other much more from now on."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked warily as they stepped out on the streets.

She tilted her head, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes that he knew all too well. "Because she's your new boss, of course!"

"Reva."

"While you were snoozing, some of us were working. Victoria makes a good case, and let's be honest, piracy doesn't make much these days does it. So I agreed on your behalf."

"You can't make those kinds of decisions for me-" He began, but she cut him off.

"That's my job, is it not? When the Captains incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, it's my job to step up and make decisions in the best interest of the crew, and captain of course. So because somebody refused to admit he was unwell and insisted on trying to do things alone instead of rescheduling or sending his trusted crew to do it for him, I had take over. See how this works?"

He sighed heavily. "Fine. I get it, I'm sorry. I'll be more responsible next time."

She sniffed. "Yes, you will." She said haughtily, before relaxing into a soft smile. "You're lucky we love you or we'd have made you walk the plank years ago."

"No you wouldn't."

"No. But you would be scrubbing the deck."

They continued in comfortable silence until they reached the harbour. Ancassius nearly cried when his ship came into view. When they boarded they were immediately swarmed by concerned crewmates, each offering their own remedies and questions and Ancassius appreciated it, truly he did, but he could absolutely not be dealing with this right now.

Luckily he didn't have to. "All right, you lot, get back to work. Just because the Captain needs rest doesn't mean you all do. Until Captain is cleared medically you bring all questions and grievances to me, understood?" There was a loud chorus of "Aye, sir!" and Ancassius couldn't help but smile to himself. Nedros surely smiled at him to send Reva his way - even if she'd taken up a big job on his behalf.

"What a week, huh?" He said airily as they climbed the steps to his cabin. He couldn't wait to collapse into bed and sleep for 10 hours straight.

Reva paused in the doorway. "Captain, it's Wednesday."

#ailesswhumptober #ailesswhumptober2024 #day 5 #migraines #emeto tw #whump #whumpblr #whump writing

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jeon-s-sins · 2 years ago

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Fighter │ One

Synopsis: YN has just moved to one of the neighborhoods in the northeast of the capital. A neighborhood is known for its dangers and mischief. But with her student budget and the short time her previous landlord gave her to move, she had no choice but to take what she could get. When she went on a last-minute shopping spree, YN had no idea what she was in for and was confronted with the danger lurking in the neighborhood.

Warning: YN is followed in the street; non-consensual touching, fighting; brothel, and prostitution are mentioned.

Word count: 3.5 k

Chapter’s song: none

n/a: English is not my first language, so I may have missed some mistakes while proofreading. Enjoy your reading, and please don’t forget to vote and comment 😁.

Translations, republications, and rewritings of my stories are not allowed. Failure to comply with this request will result in legal action.

©Jeon_s_Sins

Index │ m.list │ ☕️

Whew. It's about time. You've spent hours decorating your new home.

You were kicked out of the old dump you dared to call home. One day, as you sat quietly on your couch, doing your nails and watching Netflix, the doorbell rang. Your landlord had given you barely a week to pack up and find another place to live. So, with nowhere else to go, you took the first place you could find.

This new place could have been better, and the neighborhood was one of the worst, if not the worst. Your new apartment was in a community in northeastern Seoul. This area was known for its bad business and many cases of prostitution. It had such a bad reputation that even the police didn't go there anymore.

As an orphan, you had always had to fend for yourself, so any opportunity was welcome. You were also a student; this would be your last year before you finished school for good and got a steady job. You only had a few months before the end of the school year, so you could hang on.

Besides, you could not afford to rent an apartment in Seoul with your meager salary. When you looked at it, the condo was decent. You had a nice living space, and your room was about fifteen square meters, bigger than your old apartment. The kitchen was open and led directly into the living room, with a counter separating them.

The bathroom was pretty badly decorated, and you were planning to do some redecorating – in all the rooms, for that matter. But it was okay. There were no leaks, the toilet worked perfectly, and the water didn't overflow when flushed. So everything was fine. On the plus side, you even had a terrace where you could sunbathe, and you were planning to develop it further to make it your secret garden. But hey, everything was going according to plan.

The downside was living above a brothel. Contrary to what you might think, the house's insulation seemed practical. You couldn't hear the sounds coming from below.

For the moment, your refrigerator and cupboards were as empty as your stomach. It was time to go shopping. When you looked out the window, you saw that the sun had already set, and you planned to watch the sunset on the roof, which only you had access to. But that was just a postponement. From your house, you could see Seoul's N Tower in the distance – it was built on the highest point in the city, and no matter where you lived, you could see it.

What you liked about this neighborhood was that even though it was horrible and had a bad reputation, the residents were still very concerned about the cleanliness and aesthetics of the area. Sakura trees had been planted everywhere, and no one threw their garbage on the ground, whether it was cigarette butts, plastic, garbage bags, or anything else. The streets had kept some of their traditional houses, which added to the beautiful setting when combined with a beautiful sunset. Worthy of the most beautiful postcard photos.

You quickly put on your shoes before taking your keys and going out. The front door that gave access to your apartment had a fingerprint recognition system and a code to unlock it, but the one facing the street had a classic lock.

As you walked the streets, you tried to remember every building, road, and alley you came across. You tried to find landmarks to help you find your way back to your new home. There was a butcher shop at the end of the street, a small barber shop a few steps from your house, and a beauty salon on the other. A few blocks later, you saw a bar. “The Devil's Den.” It was carved into the wooden sign above the front door. That was good to know.

A block later, you finally stumbled upon a convenience store. As you walked in, you saw a young man working the register – probably a high school student looking to make some extra money. You knew this all too well. After filling your basket with everything, you checked out and left.

You walked calmly, with your shopping bags in your hands, and didn't immediately notice three men following you. Unaware of the danger that lurked around you and was close at hand, you were still looking at the surrounding scenery. This area was a paradox in itself. According to rumors, this area was one of the worst in Seoul, yet everything seemed fine.

Carefree, you looked around as you walked toward your home. But your sixth sense had signaled – a little late – that you were not alone. Discreetly looking over your shoulder, you made out three male figures. Your heart had begun to race as fear took hold of you. Pretending to look at a cake through a bakery window, you used the crystal barrier as a mirror. You recognized one of the three men. You had seen him coming out of the grocery store. Your eyes had even met for a brief moment.

Not wanting to take any more chances of being accosted by the three strangers, you continued on your way, praying that they would not carry out their plans. You had transferred your two shopping bags to your other hand, holding the three small bags in one hand while the other was free. That hand, now free, had landed in the pocket of your sweatpants. For protection, you had tucked your key between your fingers. If they decide to make a move, you could use your key as a weapon of self-defense.

As the men got closer, you tried to keep the distance between you by increasing your speed. Now, you did not doubt that these three men were after you. Now that you were running, the men ran to catch up. “Come here, pretty girl. There is no point in running. We'll catch up with you.”

You looked over your shoulder to see where the men were. With fear, you realize that they are not far away. Still looking behind you, instead of in front of you as you should, you had bumped into someone, slowing you down. The stranger had wrapped his arms around you to prevent you from getting used to the complex, tarred pavement. Strangely, you felt safe with his big arms around your waist. His arms were twice as big as yours. He was muscular, but far from being a bodybuilder. You couldn't see his face because of his hoodie. He was dressed in black from head to toe, which gave him a mysterious look.

While your rescuer's neck was at the height of your nose, as he had to bend his legs slightly to put his arm around your waist and prevent you from falling to the ground, his smell hit you in the face. His scent was disturbing – in a good way, if that was possible. It was a mixture of orange bigarade with an overblown passion flower and the smell of fresh sea fabric softener. Breathtaking.

What was also breathtaking was his size. The stranger was at least two heads taller than you. His height and build were indeed his assets with women. He inspired security.

The security that, for the moment, was far from your case. With your sudden encounter with the man who still held you in his arms, you had completely forgotten the reason for your violent encounter. You had to get rid of his men once and for all. A place full of people would be ideal, but where? You didn't know the area; if these men were locals, they must have known the area like the back of their hand. Anyway, you were in trouble.

You couldn't give up. Only after you at least tried.

Taking advantage of the fact that there was still some distance between you and your attackers, you broke free of the stranger's grip. “Sorry!” You apologized. The stranger, for his part, had noticed your distress. You were undoubtedly in trouble.

He had seen you sneaking glances over your shoulder, somewhere behind you, so he decided to do the same. He had subtly looked up, and that's when he saw them. Three men were standing a few feet away from him. The three pretended to look at something, but your savior wasn't born yesterday. He knew something was wrong with them, and from your distress, he knew they were after you.

Nothing good could happen.

But before your savior could help you, you broke his grip and ran for your life.

You needed to put more distance between you and the three men. You didn't realize it in your panic and fear, but it wasn't wise to run toward your home. You had to deviate from your trajectory at all costs to avoid surprise visits later.

As you were about to cross an intersection, you turned left instead of going straight, which was the actual direction of your home. The three men were on you as soon as you turned the corner. Your rescuer had not had time to react in time to stop them from following you. They had all three passed in front of him like arrows. The young man knew this story would end badly if he didn't do something. He didn't think he was a hero but would feel guilty if something happened to him. Something he could have prevented. His conscience wouldn't leave him alone until he ensured everything was okay. So he led the three men on a chase.

You ran like crazy. Your heavy footsteps hit the ground, echoing in the silence of the night. You didn't know where you were going. Only two things mattered to you right now. Putting distance between you and them and getting them away from your house. You turned every corner you could, hoping to lose them, but nothing happened. They were still on your ass like leeches.

The universe seemed to be after you for something because the next time you turned down a street, a trap was set for you. The road you had just turned down was nothing but a dead end. You reacted quickly enough to turn around, hoping to escape the jam and continue, but you didn't. You could have been faster. You were slower than you thought you were. The men were at the entrance to the alley, blocking your only way out.

This alley was where you would be raped and murdered in a dumpster.

You were fucked.

The strangers moved forward as you backed away, trying to keep some distance between you. “Hey, sweetheart. It's no use running.” One of them had shouted, so you were in a position to hear. “We got you cornered.” Another had added.

So what now? How were you going to get out of this mess? You had taken boxing lessons when you were younger, but would you be a match for the three of them? It remained to be seen, but you would only go down with a fight. “Come on over here, honey. The four of us are going to have a great time.” The third, who had been silent until now, had spoken up, but he would have been better off keeping his mouth shut.

The three of them suddenly moved closer, breaking the distance between you in one move. You could see that this was not their first time. There must have been other girls who fell victim to these three bastards. It all happened so fast. In a split second, your shopping bags were on the ground as you were slammed into the brick wall behind you.

You struggled with all your might and even managed to land a few blows, making things worse and infuriating the men even more. Losing patience, one of the three grabbed your arm and lifted you off the wall before pinning you to his chest, immobilizing you as his comrade approached. “It's not very vicious, my pretty.” Said the one who came to you, making a 'no' sign with his index finger. "Not clever at all. You tore my favorite shirt." He had shown you the damage you had done.

"Now, it's only fair that I return it to you. Don't you think?" You unbuckled yourself, trying unsuccessfully to get out of the grip of the one holding you. "Please. I beg you. Let me go." You had begged them, knowing they would not capitulate and grant your wish. "And deprive you of the ultimate pleasure? Never in a million years, darling. But don't worry, you'll love it so much that you'll want it repeatedly." The one who held you in his arms had said into your ear.

A sound of tearing material could be heard in the darkness as you felt a soft breeze in your stomach and chest. The manure had torn your top completely. Only your bra 'hid' your chest. "Oh, yeah."; "Fuck, yeah."; "Nice and full, just the way I like them." All three men reacted to their partial view of your breasts.

You didn't know your background, but your body was well built, maybe too well made. You had nice curves, and your breasts were well-rounded. Nothing huge, but you were one of the lucky ones with slightly larger-than-average breasts. Lucky, depending on whose point of view it was. Certainly not yours. Sure, it looked nice when you wore clothes that weren't very revealing, but you could do without the backache that came with that "luck."

If you cared about anything, it had nice underwear. Not to please men, but it made you feel sexy psychologically. But now you were far from feeling that way and angry at yourself for not wearing the underwear you had at home and reserved for your period.

"And you wanted to hide this body from us?" Disgusting. You could have been his little sister. No respect. Then they started groping you, caressing your belly. The one behind you kissed your neck. It disgusted you. You felt dirty while you had a strong urge to vomit. Who knows, maybe if you threw up, they would leave you alone once and for all.

"Please, stop." But they went on, ignoring your complaints.

You had reached a point where you had somehow come to terms with the fact that you were not going to escape unscathed and that you were going to die in that alley, so you stopped struggling and cried silently.

The men were so focused on you that none had heard, seen, or felt the presence of a fifth person who had just appeared. As he watched the scene unfold, anger rose within him. Her crying had been the last straw. It fed his rage even more. Seeing red, he threw himself at the men, breaking their hold on you.

You found yourself on the floor from the impact of the fifth person's body. Instinctively, you pressed yourself against the wall and huddled into a ball. Relieved that your ordeal was finally over, your tears had doubled in intensity. Before you, the battle was over. The stranger had managed to knock out the three men in an instant. None of them moved.

The stranger had looked around for you, finally seeing you curled up against the wall. As if not wanting to scare you any more than you already were, he took small steps in your direction until he crouched in front of you. He had reached out to you, but you automatically backed away from the wall. "Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." You knew that but were still in shock and had trouble breathing properly.

"Easy." Your rescuer tried to calm you down by trying a more tactile approach again. He had started by placing his hand on your shoulder. As his palm made contact with your bare skin, he felt your body shake.

You had never been in a situation like this, and God only knew that you had experienced things when you lived on the streets. But you had never been sexually molested.

Now you felt disgusting, dirty. You had a strong urge to take a soft one with acid and rub your skin until it disappeared, hoping to get a new one. You could still feel their filthy hands inappropriately caressing your skin as some of them took advantage of the situation to grab your breasts. Thank God you still had your bra on, but it felt dirty.

Seeing your distress, your savior, not knowing what to do, took you in his arms. It was the first time he had ever helped someone like that. Your face had landed between his pecs. The smell of orange, passion, and sea freshness that entered your nostrils was enough to help you calm down. In addition, his big hand, making regular up and down movements on your back, helped you even more.

"That's it. Take it easy. Breathe slowly." Without even asking aloud, you followed him without hesitation. Breathing in and out slowly. "That's good. Keep it up." You inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to finally get control of your breathing. The man was strangely calm and seemed to know what he was doing. Was he used to helping strangers? Anyway, it was official: you would be eternally grateful to him.

"Do you live far from here?" You had nodded 'no.' You didn't know where you were, but it shouldn't be too far from your house. So you gave him the name of your neighborhood. "It's not too far from here. Look, I parked my car not too far from here. Don't move. I'll go get it and take you home." Before leaving you in the alley, he removes his sweater and hands it to you. "Here, put this on." Then he was gone.

Even though you had finally regained control of your breathing and body tremors, you couldn't stop being paranoid. Every time you heard a noise, you were on the lookout with your eyes wide open. You were afraid that people would come out of nowhere and attack you.

For God's sake, come back quickly. You lifted your eyes to the sky and prayed that your savior would return soon. You feared that the strangers would retrace their steps to finish what they had started. Heaven be praised, for it seemed your prayer had been answered. A black car had pulled up a few feet from your standing. Getting out of the driver's side, your young savior had bridged the distance between you before helping you up and into his car.

Once seated and strapped in, he handed you his cell phone. You didn't quite understand what he wanted you to do with it. "Put in your address." Once that was done, he hung his device on the phone holder on the dashboard grill in the car's center. The ride had been silent, and neither of you determined to break it. It wasn't a heavy silence, let alone an uncomfortable one, but borderline comforting, which was odd. You had almost been raped in a dirty, rundown alley. And now you were standing in the car of your mysterious savior, who was still a stranger. Who knew if he had saved you from those men so that you would trust him, and then he could take advantage of you?

You had a vast imagination, but it was worth considering all possible scenarios. Even the most far-fetched were welcome.

It was a perfect way to celebrate your arrival in the area.

"YN." You had finally broken the silence. Looking out of the car window, you began to get your bearings. You knew you weren't too far from home anymore. The scent of the nameless stranger surrounded you, relaxing you considerably and distracting you from your attackers. As for the stranger, his eyes were still on the street. "Jungkook." He announced after a while of silence.

Jungkook. You repeated it in your head to make sure you wouldn't forget it. Somehow you thought his name fits him well. There are some people whose names don't quite fit, but Jungkook carried his character with grace and style.

The car stops. When you look out the window again, you see yourself standing in front of your house. "Thanks again... Jungkook." He nods without adding anything, and you get out of his car. And without turning around, you walk to your house's big armored wooden door. You realize you didn't hear the car start as you put the key in the lock. Looking over your shoulder, you see the car has not moved an inch.

Did he wait until you were safely at home before he left? If that were the case, Jungkook would definitely be an angel.

Once he was sure that you were safe and warm at home, Jungkook finally started his car to go home.

With everything that had happened that night, you had lost your appetite. After your long shower, you finally realized everything that had happened. But at the end of it all, the only thing that remained with you was the strange feeling that this was far from the last time that your and Jungkook's paths would cross.

Next ↦

n/a: I hope you enjoy this short story as much as I do. To ensure you don’t miss the progress of the chapters and their release, don’t forget to check out the Working on and Updates section. There you’ll find updates on “Fighter” and other stories and “One Shot” that you’ll probably enjoy. Also, don’t forget to check out the Masterlist. You’ll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.

If you enjoyed the chapter, please consider buying me a ☕️.

Translations, republications, and rewritings of my stories are not allowed. Failure to comply with this request will result in legal action.

©Jeon_s_Sins

#Fighter │ One #yaya #jeon s sins #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #jk boxing #jungkook underground fighter #jk smut #jk fighter

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cherishedteddie · 1 year ago

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So, I finished my entire rewatch of Degrassi a week ago and I've been horribly depressed. I don't know that it is a direct correlation, but whew. Life's been exhausting and hard. I need a new comfort show, something that has ended neatly. I need closure.

#teddie talks

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udon-udon · 2 years ago

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2022 recap

Let’s see... 2022 was a pretty wild ride, not gonna lie

Shall we start from the beginning? Hmmmm the beginning of 2022..... SheEEEESH. It was my last semester of my final year for my bachelor’s degree in graphic design for marketing (wait, I have a bachelors? LMAOOOO I forget that I have one now holy cow wait a sec). I also remember being very very stressed out about my 3 week practicum I had to do in Feb. Alongside that were a ton of projects like portfolio making, final projects for said portfolio, the grad show etc etc. It was VERY busy and stressful. Luckily, the practicum went on without a hitch, and school projects were done with, and one of the bigger projects was well received so YAY!! And then of course, graduation rolled around in April, and I finally made it!! And then I got hired right after graduation which im still super thankful for cause I got hella lucky, really.

So work started in around late May/early June and it took a while to get used to things. I’ve never worked full time at an office before so there were many things I had to learn and stuff, but other than that I’m just glad I’m able to deliver the things I’m tasked to do, and they seem like they like me, so :’) Of course I still have my moments where I feel like I’m not cut out for the job or I think I’m doing horribly and for some reason think they’re going to fire me any time soon LOOL... but anywho... I started a deskmat project (which is still delayed unfortunately, i don’t want to talk about it...) but hoping that can get picked back up sometime soon... I was also rushing on new prints as well for con season so that was pretty wild.

Summer then came and WHEW. I got covid. Luckily it just felt like a regular cold, so I might have gotten a weaker strain of it. It was quite scary though since I live with family and I was afraid of spreading it to them (of course I ended up doing so cause we share the same bathroom, but they survived) Aside from that, I tabled for the first time in 3 years! AND I DID GREAT! I really missed tabling and honestly it might have been because of the turnout at the events but damn I did better than I’ve ever did, which is crazy. It really makes me want to get better and table more, but it do be pretty exhausting. Anyway, the summer was great imo, but jesus the fall took a nosedive.

September was alright, and for the second time, I didn’t have to worry about going back to school anymore which was kind of surreal again. I was finishing up the art commissions that I paused to work on the anime convention prints. I finished those up so I can focus on the Yuri Game Jam 2022 in Oct-Nov but little did I know.............. I would not be able to make it v n v. I underestimated the time management needed while working a 9-5 job and my lack of discipline... Also cause I didn’t have a clear vision of this year’s game which made me literally go in circles until I had no time left by the time I actually kind of had something down.... I became so stressed over the story that it branched out to other bad thoughts and I just spiraled really hard. Things that I said I would not let bother me had bothered me again and god I hated it so much. Why can’t I just... not think about those things. Hoping to stop those thoughts in 2023 though. So yeah I got really stressed so sadly I had to shelve the project and not release anything for this year’s game jam. I was very disappointed in myself, and it was a very tough decision to break my visual novel streak but I had to do what I had to do. After dropping the project I felt much much much much much better. Hoping to revisit the project again sometime though, now that I decided to release it whenever it’s ready (but will i have the proactiveness to go back to it? that is another story LOL)

So November was over with and December rolled around. December itself was stressful yet okay at the same time? Stressful in terms of spiraling at work again, but I also managed to just chill out and do whatever. And of course, the week-long break from work helped a ton (as I’m writing this thinking back I did absolutely nothing that week but that’s what I wanted most) Hopefully I’ll go back to work rejuvenated again cause I was clearly burnt out from work lmao. I should make use of my vacation days more man. Anyway since it was recent, I vividly remembering spiraling again over subject that shall not be mentioned, and I had no one to ground myself with so I had to try to ground myself somehow which I do try to do more so than rely on others. Luckily I recovered from the spiraling relatively quickly, so maybe it’s an improvement and if I ever encounter that subject again it’ll be an even faster recovery and soon it will be over? That’s what I’m hoping for 2023. Definitely a goal. Please let my 2023 self not let it bother me anymore please please please please (though i think i said that in 2022 no? hahaha) i jsut want to be loved v n v and not feel like my friends are leaving me one by one :’))))))))))))))))))))))))

ANYWAY Thank you for reading until the end. Ultimately, I want to worry less about subjects that make me go insane and just be happier. I’m a Bocchi that needs to find a close knit of supportive friends that can make me take another step in life :’)))))) LOOOOL And of course, I would like to draw more. Planning on opening art commissions in the new year some time soon so stay tuned. Hoping to table some more too! Though I don’t have much to sell hahahaha;;; Well then, until next year!

#personal #adventures with udon

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insanityplea · 2 years ago

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WHEW the past week and a half have been absolutely horrible woo hoo! My weight suddenly spiked like an inhuman amount which is a little concerning seeing as theres literally no way this big of a weight spike can happen with in a week or two- ANYWAYS hey guys i wanna kms

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adleryoung · 17 days ago

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WHEW! I spent most of last week cleaning up pumpkin sludge and candy wrappers. Someone also egged and covered the building with toilet paper. Why are lowfolk holidays so exhausting and horrible? I’ll thank Fuma if I never have to lay eyes on a pumpkin or piece of candy again! As for the story, I see that a few of you are clamoring to hear ALL the details of my harrowing encounter with Burnside. Apparently your secret source doesn’t have everything. However, my legal team has advised me not to share the gory details (that's not a figure of speech, by the way.) Trust me, you're better off not knowing. Everything, and I do mean absolutely EVERYTHING Burnside subjected me to that day involved that damned knife of hers. The entire time, I was literally a razor’s edge from death.

Now then, let’s move on. I already told that miserable pumpkin, and I don't feel like recalling the whole scene another time.

As I lay there, I desperately tried to make a sound. My throat was hoarse and weak from constantly screaming for the past - how long had it been? An hour? Two? It seemed like it had gone on for AGES. Without turning my head, I wheezed to Burnside that Rebecca and the students were coming back. "We need to put ourselves together immediately."

"Why?" Burnside replied. "Rebecca’s a grown-ass femme, and all we gotta do is tell the gals we ain’t decent and they’ll keep away."

"It’s not that," I rasped painfully. "Rebecca asked me for venery earlier, and I turned her down because it would have been inappropriate. She may react badly if she sees I had nightmarish, painful, scarring venery with you as soon as she was gone."

"Doggone it," Burnside exclaimed. "Why didn’t you say so earlier??"

"I never had a chance! You need to gather our shredded clothes together so I can magick them back into one piece. We must get dressed before Rebecca and the girls return. Get to it!"

Burnside scurried around the clearing, gathering every shred of cloth and every button she could find, as I struggled to sit up. As soon as I got my upper body into a roughly vertical position, she dumped a mound of tattered scraps into my lap.

"Didn't you sort them?" I grumbled as I tried to separate the bits of her clothes from the bits of mine. She grabbed half of the pile and started to help, as I enchanted the pieces back together as fast as I could. After a few minutes, the outfits were sort-of whole again. They were missing big patches and looked like they had been dragged through a thorn bush. There was no more time to fix them! Burnside and I slid our ruined clothes on as fast as we could as we heard Rebecca and the witches getting closer and closer. Burnside had to help me at the end because I was so stiff and achy I could barely move.

"Hudalaleigh!" Rebecca called happily as they entered the clearing. "Everything went smoothly! The girls all have permission, and we can leave as soon as- Where are you?"

"Here," I croaked semi-audibly as I stumbled out into the open, with Burnside propping me up.

“My lord, are you all right??" Rebecca asked, darting toward me in concern. "You look and sound terrible! What happened??”

"Oh, you needn't worry about me," I wheezed nonchalantly. "I'm just tired after some strenuous exercise." (This was technically true.) Suddenly I heard Burnside yelp as the clearing tilted and the ground leaped up to smack me in the face. Everything went black.

I dreamed I was wading through an ocean of bones as the sun shone down through a thick blanket of nasty-looking greenish clouds. I could hear hellish screaming everywhere, as if an invisible battle was going on all around me. Skeletal hands reached up and pulled me under. The pale green light vanished as I was buried in the bones, but the screaming continued. I couldn’t breathe. The screaming got louder. I was suffocating. The screaming kept getting louder.

My eyes snapped open and I saw the ceiling of the coven’s humble residence hall. I slowly realized that I had taken Rebecca’s place recuperating in bed. I could hear the muffled shouting of Burnside and Rebecca arguing outside. I couldn't make out any of the words, but I had a feeling I knew what they were arguing about. I turned my head to see the three junior witches sitting on a bench at my bedside. They were all staring forlornly at the door as they listened to the argument outside. I looked back up at the ceiling.

Great, just great. I did it again. Another dumb plan backfired and made everything worse. Burnside and Rebecca probably hated each other now, and it was my fault. Fuma’s blessing of luck was starting to feel more like a curse. Perhaps if I stayed in this bed forever, everything would fall into place around me, since every attempt at direct involvement only ended in disaster.

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #tboay

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jescache · 3 months ago

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whew i really have just been feeling horrible the last 2ish weeks

#and ive been doing everything #socialisation exercise maybe not enough creativity but some!#and i can cope but.... wah #it really is gonna be like this for the forseeable future huh #jes yaps

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heiayen · 11 months ago

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in danger, sinking deeper in your arms neuvillette x gn!reader

summary: Everyone in Fontaine is talking about the sudden arrest of a member of the worldwide crime organization, praising everyone involved for their hard work, not knowing the truth behind the trial. But you do, and soon you are thrown into another mysterious case, where this time, the safety of people you care the most about is on line.

tags: PART 1. modern au, neuvillette is a judge and you are a detective! enstablished relationship, it is kind-of-a murder mystery and injuries are mentioned but nothing too graphic + mentioned blood, a small reference to a fontaine world quest. ft furina cameo

notes: happy new years happy christmas december was not my month BUT I MANAGED to finish this fic anyway <;3 @theother-victoria hello. im your @favonius-library secret santa although a late one. first of all i am sorry that this fic took so long but unfortunately... life happened. and i wish i finished it faster, but </3 i decided to split this into two parts also because... you know to rush a fic with some actual plot would just ruin the quality and i didnt want that </3 please don't eat me up for any inaccurate things regarding law because this is fontaine. and my fic /j anyways whew! i shall now pass out. this is also my second time writing neuvie so uhadgdds goodnight!

“A member of the biggest worldwide crime organization, known as Fatui, has been sentenced to jail in Fontaine’s court”, said the big, bold letters on the first page of The Steambird.

It was the biggest sensation of the month– no, one could say of the year in the nation of justice, and only now it has been revealed to the public light. Everyone has been working in the shadows for the past weeks, trying their hardest to find any clues, evidence, and pointers, ultimately succeeding none of this would have happened if not for the group effort of the police and the amazing prosecution team, namely the lead prosecutor, ms. Furina. Judge Neuvillette, the greatest judge this place saw in its entire existence, has made the sentence, and many started to believe that with this trial, a new era would start and an end would be brought upon the horrible crimes of Fatui.

The jailed man— whose name they didn’t publish— would spend his nearest days in the Fortress of Meropide, where after finishing his sentence for the crimes he committed in Fontaine, he would be sent to Snezhnaya, to answer for his other crimes. before the judge of his homeland.

That was what people believed, and they had no reason to not. No one would lie to them about such thing, after all, and Judge Neuvillette was known for fair sentences, they all trusted him.

How unfortunate it was, that so much about this trial, the biggest sensation of the year was… simply not real. Fabricated for the public, and the harsh truth was under the rug, just waiting to be uncovered by some curious eye.

You were a detective, working specially for the Court of Fontaine. Your agency was personally picked by Neuvillette to work with him, ensure the security of the court members, and help with more stubborn cases that needed more special force to be solved.

It seemed crazy to you when you first joined, to work with the most known judge in Fontaine… and it still was crazy that you got blessed with such a chance from the universe, yet complained none.

Your agency was asked to help the police with the case of arresting Ajax— codename Tartaglia— and while you weren’t the main detective for this particular case, you heard and saw enough and none of this was as pretty as they tried to portray it to the public.

Because no one really knew if he was guilty.

The evidence, yes, pointed toward him, but then so many things pointed to the possibility that the evidence was false, put by someone wanting to frame Tartaglia. You were the first to reject this theory, not believing that anyone was even able to frame a criminal like him. And even if so, you were sure he would get an amazing attorney that would defend him with even more fabricated evidence, or that someone would just bail him out of jail, but—

None of this happened. Worse, the lead prosecutor, ms. Furina, received a threat to get a guilty sentence for the man, no matter what it would take.

Disobedience would be punished, the letter said. It was decided to do as the letter asked, both for the sake of everyone and most importantly, Furina’s safety, but also to shut down the blackmailer’s alertness.

Everything was carefully arranged by someone, and you all were just actors in someone’s biggest play of their life.

It was… gods. Terrible, to say the least. The blackmailer’s identity stayed unknown, as they disguised their letter as a government official one and made sure to not be found, and your team still was debating on the credibility of the evidence you all found. Everything pointed toward that it was fabricated, but nothing proved that it was, and if someone was genuinely just playing a stupid joke to cast the shadow of doubt, or mess with your investigation, then they were doing an amazing job.

Even Furina seemed a little off in your eyes, the smallest spark of her confidence gone when she herself wasn’t sure if anything she presented in court was real.

(Not to mention that Tartaglia shouldn’t be put on trial here, but in Snezhnaya. Something, something about international laws.)

There was nothing left for you than to wait for any move in the case, for any possible hint toward the mastermind and truth.

Just for how long you would have to wait?

It was early morning when you woke up to your phone ringing, a bit before your regular wake-up hour. Still half-asleep, you grabbed the device and, not even checking who it was calling, you picked up the call and was greeted by your co-worker’s voice bordering on screaming.

“[Name]! For gods’ sake, finally!” She half-screamed into your ear and you winced.

“‘nd no good morning even?” you mumbled, your brain foggy with sleep. Why was she even screaming so early?

“This is the third time I called so no, no good morning to you,” Came her quick reply, “Get up, someone found a corpse right at the courthouse’s doorstep.”

That woke you up instantly.

You jumped on your bed, throwing away your duvet and scrambling to get up, “Whose?! And— why on earth is there a corpse in the first place?!”

The order of your questions seemed a little out of place, but you barely cared. You walked quickly to your closet, grabbing the first pants and shirt you found under your hand.

“Good questions, I was about to ask you the same,” Your friend deadpanned and you could already imagine the judgemental raise of her eyebrows, “We can't... exactly recognize the victim. Whoever killed them had quite the fun with it..."

You gulped at the mental image alone of what was waiting for you. “This is fucking shit. Who found the corpse?”

“Ms. Furina found the body, called for sir Neuvillette, he called for me and I called for the rest, so police. And you, because I don’t want to deal with this case alone.”

You stopped buttoning up your shirt for a moment.

“...and for that, you are getting your ass moving and picking me up,” You said lightly to your phone. If not for your godsdamned friend, you still would be resting in bed! Maybe preparing to get out of it, but in bed nonetheless.

Still, another part of you was happy that she called you out of all people.

“No?!” Your friend retorted, “Don’t you have a car?”

“At mechanics.”

“Call a cab, then?”

“At this hour?”

There was a moment of silence before you heard from your friend something that sounded like a tired groan and something like ‘yes, whatever, I’ll pick you up’.

“You’re so nice, love you!” you cooed into the phone and ended the call.

Now dressed, you went to the kitchen to at least eat something, because you weren’t even sure if you would have enough time to get anything to drink.

A corpse was found under the courthouse’s doors, barely a few days after the trial ended. Who could possibly do it?

The blackmailer, as you all started calling the author of the letter only spoke about punishment in case Tartaglia was found innocent, and he wasn’t. Neuvillette and Furina did as they were asked.

A thought appeared in your mind that maybe the corpse was just a message some kind of, or a warning— but from who?

You stood in the kitchen, lazily chewing the sandwich (if you could call it) as you thought.

If not from the letter sender, then from who? And was it a warning message in the first place? Or maybe it was just a coincidence, although in that you would not believe, no matter what?

Whatever the answer was, you would find it.

You arrived at the crime scene fifteen minutes later, in your friend’s car. She filled you up on any details she missed on the phone, but she didn’t know much either.

Around the corpse were people already, so you could run first into asking around what happened. Neuvillette and Furina were standing a little away from the group, the woman visibly unsettled, despite the act she was putting on. Neuvillette had a firm hand on her shoulder, in the gesture of comfort.

You fought down a smile and walked up to them.

“Hello.” You nodded shortly to them, “Are you two alright?”

You winced internally at your own question. Furina didn’t look alright, of course she was not.

“Yes, we are alright.” Came Neuvillette’s answer, saving Furina from having to talk.

There was something about Neuvillette that not everyone knew. A little secret between you two that no one else knew.

“Mhm, that’s good to hear… Miss Furina, you were the one to find the body, yes?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “I came here and saw a man lying under the doors, and when I walked closer…”

She trailed off, covering her mouth with her hand. You didn’t look at the body, but… from your friend’s description and Furina’s reaction, it must have been a terrible, view.

“I can imagine it must have been quite the shock for you,” you sighed, internally shivering at the mental image in your head.

You asked her some more questions, noting everything in your mind. You kept them short, before letting her walk away from the crime place.

She saw no one around when she arrived, too panicked to look for anyone. It wasn’t a problem though, because you clearly remembered that there was a surveillance camera and the front doors were in its range. Someone would just have to check the recordings.

The police that arrived here were busy, your friend was talking with Furina and it was just you and Neuvillette. You gave him a quick glance before looking away.

“...how is Furina?” you asked, voice a tad quieter, a tad softer, now that you two were alone. You were close enough with Furina to drop the formalities and chat over cake and tea in your free time.

“She’s shaken, but well,” Neuvillette said, “She hid in her car upon discovering the body and called for me.”

“Smart,” you mumbled to yourself. She had no way to know if the murderer was still there, after all. You only wondered why she called Neuvillette instead of the police, but you figured that was just… her being herself.

Actually, you wondered about two things.

“...it isn’t in her style to be this early, though.” You looked at Neuvillette to see him give you a short nod.

“She said that she wanted to work on paperwork and cut the topic short.”

“Huh.” You furrowed your eyebrows slightly. That sounded unlike her, actually, “Do you really believe she would wake up this early to fill out some documents?”

You admired her greatly, but after working for so long alongside her and Neuvillette, you knew it was uncommon for her to act like that.

“It is unlike her, yes. I decided not to press further, not wanting to overwhelm her. She was already stressed enough because of discovering the body.”

You nodded and hummed to yourself.

“Do you… maybe have any idea why this all happened?” You raised your eyebrows at him, “Or, well, a theory?”

“I do not wish to jump into assumptions, but I believe this might be related to Fatui themselves. An important member of their organization got sentenced to jail, after all."

It was one of your theories, too. No one else fit the murder as much as the organization did.

"Could it be some sort of a warning?" you suggested. It wouldn’t be the first time Fatui did something so… unnecessarily violent to show a message. You hoped it wasn’t the case.

Neuvillette stayed silent for a moment, deep in thought before replying solemnly.

"I fear yes.”

You let out a heavy sigh. That… that was complicating everything so much. None of you was yet sure if it was Fatui’s doing, but if yes…

“If this… murder is related to Tartaglia’s case, then protecting Furina should be one of our priorities,” you said after a moment, the softness of your voice disappearing, letting firmness take its place, “She was the lead prosecutor for this case after all. It won’t hurt to take precautions, no matter who really stands behind this.”

Since everyone was still busy with their jobs, you reached out your hand to grab Neuvillette’s and give him a quick squeeze, dropping it right after.

“But I’m sure she’ll be fine either way, don’t worry.” You smiled warmly, lowering your voice and his own lips curled into a smile after a moment.

“...thank you,” he replied, also lowering his voice to keep this moment between you two.

The secret you shared was a warm feeling between you two, adoration and love shyly blooming in your hearts.

It started as stolen glances, unsure if you were even allowed to look at him like that. But then you once caught his own glance on you, and from that on, something started to bloom between you two.y Yet because of your jobs, you both had to be careful.

Neuvillette was adored by many, of course, you sometimes joked to yourself that you were dating a fontainian celebrity, but so he was hated by the people that he gave a guilty verdict to.

Not all, but enough, and while you didn't have actual enemies like he did, your job as the detective was still putting you at risk.

The glances stayed stolen, but with newfound fondness and warmth.

You opened your mouth to add something, but suddenly your friend called you over. You mouthed an apology to Neuvillette and walked to her.

She was talking with a police officer that was… holding a little, plastic bag, covered in blood. You swallowed.

There was something inside.

Your friend looked at you, a frown on her face.

"The man is missing his tongue and had… this," She pointed at the bag, "shoved in his mouth."

You felt chills appears on your back as you stared at the little bag.

A missing tongue and a plastic bag in its place, with a piece of paper inside it.

That couldn't promise anything good.

You still remembered a certain case from a little ago. You were lucky to usually work on rather… pleasant cases, as in not as brutal and violent as your co-workers would sometimes deal with, but that day, you stumbled upon a certain case. A messy contract with a criminal organization that ended with a man, a lowly The Steambird editor, who not only completely lost his mind, but also… his tongue.

Just like the man from the current case.

All the evidence that you found on the previous man, pointed out that he had an unfortunate deal with Fatui that ended with… well, not his death, but a part of you wondered if it wouldn’t be a better end for him.

You let out a deep breath, groaned, and layed your head on your desk, already tired of today. You truly had quite the luck lately! Curse you and whatever deity was watching over you.

The piece of paper found in the man’s mouth was, obviously, a very nice and kind message, with threats hidden between the lines. That could mean only one thing and it was that the Fatui indeed had a hand in this murder because of the entire Tartaglia case.

You were sure of it, since you had no other pointers and this seemed like the most likely case.

But it also meant that whoever was behind the first letter, was someone entirely else. You didn’t think anyone from Fatui would set up one of them, especially since you heard… surprisingly a lot about Tartaglia. He didn’t seem like someone so easy to throw out and replace.

Who, then?

Assuming it was true that he was framed, who could be powerful enough to frame someone like him? And do it behind Fatui’s back?

Maybe there was a missing part? Well, no, you obviously missed a lot yet. The camera recordings showed a pair of people bringing the man’s corpse under the courthouse’s doors, and then walking away, going inside a car and driving away, their little gift left on the doorsteps.

The victim still had to be identified, the pair of men too and they were vital to the case— you didn’t think they would willingly tell police who ordered them the murder (or if they killed the victim at all!), but maybe…

Assuming they were still alive, that is. You heard enough to let your imagination go wild at what could possibly happen.

…maybe too wild, when sudden anxiety started to blossom in your mind. The current situation was rather unpredictable, in you way you could tell what would happen next, and even with extra protection arranged for Neuvillette and Furina, you couldn’t help but worry about them.

But especially about Neuvillette. You loved him, after all. You didn’t know what would you do if anything ever happened to him.

You looked at your phone. You had currently… some kind of a break. Everything that just happened started to hit you only now, tiredness gnawing at your bones.

You needed some coffee. Something sweet to eat. A moment to collect your thoughts and continue worrying about the case and your lover later.

You took up your phone, and the receiver picked up the call a moment later.

“Neuvillette? Hello?”

“Hello, [name]. Is something the matter?”

Just hearing his voice seemed to raise your spirits a little.

“No, I just wanted to call you…” You smiled sheepishly to yourself and then added, with slight laughter in your voice, "I would invite you for dinner, but with all that happened earlier…"

Although you were planning to ask him out for dinner for some time now, just an evening spent together at your place, there was no time for such things now. It was a great shame, but you hoped that after all this, you two would find a moment of peace together.

For now, a phone conversation had to be enough.

To be honest, you called for no actual reason, more to just listen to his voice and maybe calm your mind a little, so for a moment, you two found yourselves in a comfortable silence.

There was a movie you watched a week ago. It was late when you watched it, you were planning to go to bed but while you were mindlessly switching channels, you saw a movie interesting enough to keep you up for the next hour. By now you forgot the name, but you told him about it either way.

He listened to all your words, even when you stumbled over the plot a few times, backtracking and trailing off when a part of the scene you were describing reminded you of something else.

He had a few of his own comments regarding the plot and certain scenes, like not understanding why people found a certain scene funny— to which you just… shrugged, not knowing either. The scene he mentioned was stupid, really, and yet it made you laugh so much when you first watched it, that even when describing it to him again you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

A charm of questionable but funny scenes, maybe.

Minutes passed on simply talking, smiling at your phone and laughing. Just talking with him seemed enough to help you recharge, but it also made you a little sad.

With you busy and the worry, already preparing itself to take a longer stay in mind, calls were probably the only way to spend time together like this. It wasn’t enough. You finished talking about the movie, ran out of thoughts to share, a moment passed.

"...you know, you have to be careful too,” you murmured, "I worry someone might try to attack either you or Furina, although I'm not sure if there would be anyone stupid enough to do that…"

You rolled your eyes at your own words. No one would, for sure, but…

"Point is, I still worry."

How could you not?

"You need not to worry, love.” You smiled at his words and soft tone and a part of you could swear he smiled. You hoped he did.

You heard him breathe, preparing to say something else, but at the same moment you heard someone calling out his name in the background, “...my apologies, it appears I am needed somewhere. I will call you later.”

“Sure, take care. I think my break is ending soon anyway,” you sighed, trying your hardest to now show disappointment in your tone.

The call ended after it, and yet you found yourself holding the phone next to your ear for a second, two more before putting it away. Your break was coming to an end anyway, it was about time you got up.

You just hoped that everything would end well.

(And yet soon, you would soon realize that nothing about this case would go well, nowhere close to how you hoped it would, and that your worst thoughts would come true.

But, maybe, just maybe, there still would be a place for a good ending?

You hoped, at least. And you would do everything to bring this case to a good ending.)

taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat

#astronetwork #favoniuslibrary #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #neuvillette x you #gender neutral reader #heia's writin'#i wanna pass out not joking even the hell

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