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doctorbitchcrxft · 5 months ago

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Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

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Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!”

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence.

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle.

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied.

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly.

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well.

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam.

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone.

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road.

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows.

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out.

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly.

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing.

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road.

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted.

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!”

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns.

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic.

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor.

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added. “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn.

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother.

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward.

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you.

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off.

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself.

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic.

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you.

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true.

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.”

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment.

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze.

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor.

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb.

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon.

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted.

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—”

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered.

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala.

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee.

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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froggyfics · 10 months ago

Text

Play Fighting

You have a training session with Slade.

This was suppose to come out in September 2023...It's now February 2024. We're gonna just be happy this is finally completed.

Additional note at the bottom

I categorized this as a fem!reader, just because I mentioned “girl” once in this fic. So, I hope that those who prefer gender neutral readers will still enjoy this.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x fem!reader

Theme: Fluff

Word Count: 1,279

You grunt as your back crudely hits the mat once again. The pain shocks your system, but you’re not at all surprised that you’re in this position.

“I told you, I’m not good at this stuff,” you grumble.

“Get back up,” he commands.

Rage surges through your body and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under already. He laughs heartily, with his palm clutching his chest.

“You think you can intimidate me, doll? A little girl like you?”

His mocking tone acts as a battery for you, and your depleted energy disappears. You grab the sword that you dropped on the ground and position yourself in a battle stance.

“Make sure you protect your chin,” he instructs.

You ignore his suggestion.

“Protect your chin,” he repeats.

“Protect your own chin,” you mutter.

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead lunges at you. The speed at which he travels makes you shriek, and you can’t help but drop your sword and cover yourself with your arms. You glue your eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

It never comes. Seconds pass before you slowly open your eyes once again. He’s just standing there with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed. His hair droops down due to his sweat and is sticking out in different directions. The rash guard he has on clings to his body - his muscles barely contained by the thin polyester. The sight of him in front of you makes you salivate, but of course, you can’t let him know that you’re desperately attracted to him. You have an intense crush on him, but you know better than to fall for those ocean blue eyes – sorry – eye.

“Stop looking at me like that, Slade! C’mon,” you exclaim, as you pick your weapon back up. You can’t stand how he looks pityingly at you. “Fight me like a man!” You try to goad him, but Slade, ever the patient one, refuses to indulge you.

You beg, plead, and even shout expletives at him to resume the training session. Slade continues to stand in front of you, arms crossed, with that knowing smile on his face.

The situation is more frustrating given that your gaze falls onto his lips every few seconds. You’re so angry that you can’t control your own impulses. It’s cruel that a man with such a hideous personality could look so attractive.

Well, if he’s not going to fight you, you’ll have to bring the fight to him.

You leap towards him, sword in hand, stabbing the air repeatedly as Slade easily dodges your every attack. He’s light on his feet for a man of his stature. Within seconds, you can feel your fatigue overcome you, especially in your arm.

“Getting tired?”

“Not at all,” you heave. You’re definitely tired, but you won’t let Slade in on that information.

“You can tell me if ya get tired. I know pretty girls like you aren’t used to being pushed around like this,” he purrs.

Thankfully, your face is already red from the training session, otherwise, his comment would’ve made you look like a tomato.

“Whatever.”

Something in the air changes once the word leaves your mouth. Slade no longer has a playful smirk on his face. He neither smiles nor frowns, but his eye gives away his true feelings. He’s glaring at you.

He lunges at you once more. This time, you don’t cower. You desperately swipe at him with your sword, but it’s useless against him.

He’s suddenly within arm’s reach, and he slaps your wrist with an open palm. You nearly lose your grip on your sword’s handle, but you recover quickly.

“I like you girl, but you got one hell of a bratty attitude. Don’t think I won’t teach you a lesson if I got to.”

“You seemed fine with my attitude not too long ago.” You struggle against his grasp, but he has a firm grip on you.

“Yeah? Well, my patience has run out.”

“That’s too bad, I like giving you an attitude.”

He forcibly yanks your arm, and suddenly you’re dangerously close to him. You’re so close that you can smell him. He smells a bit of sweat, with an undercurrent of…vanilla?

“I like correcting attitudes.”

A polite smile crosses your face. “Wait till I tell everyone that the big, bad Deathstroke uses girly body wash. You smell like a bakery.”

Pain radiates up and down the column of your spine. Your back hits the mat before you even register that Slade had leg sweeped you.

For the millionth time in this training session, he has the advantage. He hovers above you in a lunge - triumph oozing out of him.

You want to humble him so badly.

He clutches his hip after you punch the bony part of his pelvis as hard as you could. The punch distracts him momentarily, but it’s long enough for you to slither your way out from under him.

For good measure, you slap him once. Redness immediately begins to surge on his cheek as his capillaries break. You know you’re definitely going to regret doing that later, but you just couldn't resist!

You swing your sword and stop just before it connects to his neck.

Slade wobbles for a moment, still in a lunge, but rights himself within a few seconds. His gaze moves from the sword to you and back to the sword several times.

It’s at this moment that you think you’ve gone too far, specifically with the slap. Sure, you’re cheeky with Slade every once in a while, but he's always real quick to set you straight when he’s not in the mood.

Based on his expression, he’s not in the mood right now.

However, he’s right where you want him. The upper hand you have - however momentary - makes you all the more confident to do what you’ve been wanting to do for so long.

“Kiss me.”

Slade rarely gets caught by surprise, so you revel in his stupor. “You have a sword to my throat,” he responds with an air of disbelief.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t act like you can’t get out of this situation.”

He doesn’t move. You continue to stare at one another. Sweat gathers in the crevices between your palm and the sword handle, loosening your grip. You swallow loudly. Has it always been this hot in here? Did you just make it creepy? Can he not be this damn irresistible?

“Kiss me,” you whine, a bit more desperately this time.

He sighs deeply, taking a moment to mull over his options.

“Fine,” he says. He leans forward to reach your lips, and you raggedly bend over to meet him halfway. The sharp blade presses into his neck, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

When he’s near centimeters from your face, a great idea crosses your mind. An idea that would solidify your victory for this training session. You let him lean even more closely to you - so close that his eye begins to close in preparation for the kiss. Once his eye closes, you remove the sword from his neck and swiftly move to the side.

The sword acted as a barrier for Slade to keep him upright - once the sword was removed, he fell forward.

Any other person would have laughably landed on their face, but Slade, ever the skillful mercenary, plants his palms on the floor and pulls himself into a half-plank position.

He turns his face to look at you with a look of annoyance.

You unceremoniously drop the blade and place your hands on your hips. “Oh, Slade, you take things way too seriously. We were only just play fighting!”

Note: I got the prompt "kiss me...you have a sword to my throat" from @celestialwrites however!!!!! I cannot find for the life of me the exact post that inspired me

#deathstroke #deathstroke x reader #slade wilson x reader #slade wilson #slade wilson fluff #slade wilson x y/n #slade wilson x you #dc comics #deathstroke fluff

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taihua · 5 months ago

Note

Thank you for the reply! Now this gets even more interesting when I think about his relationship with Mu Qing. Honestly, their dynamic really fascinate me because what the hell is going on? Why is he so volatile with him? Cause MQ may be a bitch but the things feng xin said to him can be really below the belt. Like you said, i dont wanna say he’s a classist but ??? My guy you’re not helping. And now feng xin got more interesting in my eye than what fanon usually depicts him. I think when he loves people, he wants nothing but the best for them. Even if something they don’t necessarily want for themselves. And since MQ obviously don’t meet the criteria, he just gets pissed off and can think of him nothing but a bad person.

"What the hell is going on with Fengqing" is the question that scholars will be asking for centuries 😔

Nonetheless, I don't think I agree that Feng Xin is making any "below the belt" comments--this is going to be a super long response because I want to break down all the situations where fandom accuses him of being unfair to Mu Qing, but the bottom line is that it's not as simple as Feng Xin being mean to a poor abused Mu Qing for no reason.

"Crowds get handsy. We don’t want people sneaking it in their pockets before we find anything,” Feng Xin said offhandedly."

This is usually where Feng Xin gets (unfairly) accused of being classist and a bully to Mu Qing, I guess because it's viewed as a snide comment about Mu Qing's wealth?--but that's not true, because a) nowhere does Feng Xin say anything about social class in this statement (and in fact, in context of Xie Lian suggesting they call in help to look for his missing earring, it's more likely they would be calling in people from the palace) and b) he wasn't even talking about Mu Qing.

Which brings me to the second point, but half the reason Mu Qing overreacts and storms out of the room is because he thinks Xie Lian has been talking about him behind his back:

Mu Qing clenched his fists tight, then loosened them, but at last did not continue to blow up. However, his eyes were growing red, and he turned to Xie Lian, enunciating each word as he stared at him."You…don’t keep your promises."

So here you have Xianle Trio's first major communication breakdown--Xie Lian tries to do the right thing by not sharing the story about the missing gold foil, Mu Qing jumps to the unfair conclusion that Xie Lian broke his promise and told Feng Xin, and Feng Xin is upset because he's being accused of being a jerk about something he didn't even know about.

Book 4 rice scene

Here's another case where Feng Xin seems to be blamed for yelling at Mu Qing without any consideration for the context. Xie Lian went to go cultivate after seeing Feng Xin get beaten up for busking and they were counting on him to ascend to lift them out of poverty, Mu Qing ruined it because he wouldn't stand up for Xie Lian in front of the other officials, you can argue to what extent Mu Qing "had no choice."

What kills me about this scene is how Feng Xin is so nice to Mu Qing at first:

"Alright," Feng Xin said. "I’ll say my thanks then. We do need all this stuff right now. Heavenly officials can’t gift mortals things privately, so you be careful too." Then he shuffled to Xie Lian’s side and whispered, “I’m pretty surprised too, that he’d actually come back to help. I'm the one who judged him wrong. In any case…"

He doesn't begrudge Mu Qing going to work for another god, and he only gets angry when Xie Lian gets angry--Xie Lian, who is visibly injured and so angry he can't even speak to Mu Qing, so obviously Feng Xin is pissed off after noticing that, and he still gives Mu Qing a chance to explain himself before he starts yelling. Was he supposed to say "thanks for the rice, I totally understand why you humiliated Xie Lian and ruined our chances at escaping poverty, I can't wait to go back to begging for coins and getting beaten up"...?

Plus you have another example of bad Xianle Trio communication, because Mu Qing accuses Feng Xin of holding him to different standards than Xie Lian, based on the stealing incident that Xie Lian never told Feng Xin about. Once again, Feng Xin is the last person to find out about the incidents that Mu Qing is being weird about and is expected by fandom to take Mu Qing's meanest assumptions in stride because Mu Qing is a poor little meow meow or whatever.

(Side note that that's two examples where it's clear that Feng Xin views stealing as morally wrong; he's consistent in his values.)

"...and don’t think yourself a good person! Genuinely good people aren’t like you, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN ONE!"

From their fight on Mt. Tonglu. It's not very nice, but the context of the fight is arguing about whether or not Mu Qing killed Jian Lan and Cuocuo. Yknow, Feng Xin's girlfriend who he loved and their child that he didn't know about that he just recently learned were brutally murdered. Mu Qing's the main suspect and there's clear evidence that he had met them before, he's been on the run to avoid a trial, and all he can say is "I didn't do it"--it looks bad and Feng Xin has every right to be not only suspicious of him, but also really fucking upset with him.

Plus, the context of the fight is also that they're still blaming each other for abandoning Xie Lian, and Mu Qing thinks it's okay to bring Jian Lan into that argument as if he isn't the prime suspect in their murder investigation:

"Taking yourself for the model of loyalty, didn’t you ditch the boss when the wife came along? The wife and the son became more important?! Everyone’s doing things for themselves, it’s the self that’s priority! Aren’t you embarrassed hanging on to that old shitty deed over my head?"

If anyone's going below the belt here, it's Mu Qing for bringing up a specific and personal trauma to win an argument. Feng Xin's generic insult doesn't come anywhere close to this, but I often see "you've never been a good person" quoted as something Feng Xin is supposed to apologize for with no consideration for what Mu Qing is saying a few paragraphs later. If one is shitty, then so is the other.

Speaking of Mu Qing making below the belt comments...

"After Fu Yao entered the Temple of Nan Yang, for two whole hours he thoroughly criticized this statue of Nan Yang from head to toe, something about how the design was deformed, the colors tacky, the craftsmanship crude, the taste bizarre...."

Notably, Nan Feng doesn't respond to this. Two hours of holding his tongue before he finally comes out with "Don’t you be acting all sarcastic here, if you’re really so bored, go sweep the floor!" after Fu Yao recites the Ju Yang poem and embarrasses him in front of Xie Lian. Literally below the belt from Mu Qing here, since he knows full well that Feng Xin doesn't like it and takes great delight in mocking him anyway. Fandom gets mad at Feng Xin for yelling, but it's funny and quirky if Fu Yao insults him? Why the double standard?

So bringing it all back to your initial question, "Why is he so volatile with him?"--because they don't communicate well, because no one bothers to tell Feng Xin about anything until after Mu Qing has thrown a fit, and because every time he gives Mu Qing the benefit of the doubt Mu Qing does something weird and ends up throwing it back in his face.

#feng xin #mu qing #fengqing #i hate that i have to add this to the tags but: please don't reblog with mu qing hate #either in a post or in the tags #this is a fx defense post not a mq hate post

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countrymusiclover · 11 months ago

Text

6 - The Day before Cuba

Part 7

Battle of Heart and Mind

If you all have any good ship name suggestions for Erik and Addi drop them below in the comments ☺️

Tag list - ask to be added (in my ask box please) @aintinacage @hiraethrhapsody @mostlymarvelgirl @importantgalaxyrunaway

It was almost two in the morning when I was sitting awake in the corner chair inside our hotel room. I knew by now most people believed we were together but that was far from the truth. The hotel door creaked open. “I’m shocked to see you're still awake.”

“Yes we'll, I couldn't sleep.” I responded by never looking up from the book I was reading. Stuck on the same page for an hour.

Erik began removing his boots at the door. “What are you reading tonight?”

“I’m attempting to teach myself chess but I’m clearly terrible at it.” I answered his question.

He pauses in the doorway. “You’re learning chess. Whatever for?”

Rolling my eyes I don’t know why he acted so shocked. I spent most of my time stuck in the room by myself. “Have you ever considered that I might be bored when you’re not here hmm?” Shifting my gaze back to the page of the chess book in front of me.

“You could have said something. Or come with me when I go out for the day.” He suggested to me eyeing the map with all the markers on the wall dealing with my father.

I sniped back. “I have no interest in killing Nazi men, Erik. I know why you do so but that isn’t me.”

“Oh yeah. But this is you?” He picked up the only picture I had of my mother when she was with my father. Her hair was pinned up in a bun and she was pregnant in the photo. “What do you intend on doing with this picture? Carry it around for the rest of your life hoping the answer will hit you in the head.”

Glaring at him I turned the lamp light on a little brighter. “Don’t act like you care.”

“I lost my mother because of your family. And here you are so concerned as to why she left.” Erik turned to face me sitting the picture down on the table.

Shutting the book harshly in my lap I rose to my feet. “I’m sorry about your mother. But have you ever considered that I am afraid to find out why she left.”

“I hadn’t considered that, Addison.” He admitted lowering his gaze.

Lifting my gaze up to his stone eyes. “You should consider that you don’t know a lot about me. I’m going to bed.”

“No, don't.” He snagged my wrist when I went to walk past him, throwing my hair in my face. I turned my attention to him. “You’re right I don’t know you. So tell me about yourself.”

I couldn’t believe he was asking to know me. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I’m not drunk, Addison. I am trying here.” He fought back, still holding onto my wrist.

Yanking my wrist from his hand I pushed past him sitting back down in the chair I was in earlier. He watched me pulling up the side desk chair to the coffee table. “So the life of Addison Shaw is pretty boring. Only child, mother abandoned me when I was a baby and my father…didn’t really raise me after I turned fourteen.”

“My turn then I suppose. Only as a child, I was just like any normal kid until the day we went into the camps.” He lowered his gaze reaching underneath the coffee table. He sets a tiny chess board on the table in front of us.

I parted my lips, twiddling my thumbs together in my lap. “So how do we start the game?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.” He reassured me using his powers to move the piece across the board. Clasping my hands together I let my mind try and focus on the game before me. For once thinking he might let me see the side of him he keeps hidden.

Rolling over onto my back I stretched out in the bed that I was laying in. The blanket pulled up almost all the way over my chest. I wasn’t sure what time it was but I knew we had stayed out later than we intended too. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I smiled lightly seeing Erik staring at me. “It’s creepy to watch someone sleep, you know.”

“Hmm that’s strange coming from you. Weren’t you the one who said you would be there if I needed you?” He questioned me, holding his head up by his hand on the side of his head.

Laying on my side to face him I was surprised. “I didn’t think you remembered that.”

“I have actually paid attention to what you say, Addison.” He says to me,

Raising a brow at him I felt that I needed to ask the question that I always had wondered since the day we had run away together. Everybody else that we had met called me by my nickname except for him. “Why do you do that exactly?”

“Do what?” Erik asked me.

I replied to him sitting upright against the pillow but still had the blankets pulled over me so I didn’t get cold. “Everyone else here calls me Addi like I asked them to. Everyone but you. You call me Addison even though you know I don’t like it. So I wanna know why?”

“Is this really that much of a worry to you?” He sat upright against the headboard arms behind his head.

Rolling my eyes I hit his chest seeing he was trying to joke here. “Yes I’m being serious. I want to know why.”

“I’ve only ever heard your full name be used by your father. It wouldn’t seem right to call you anything but that. Unless you’d rather have me call you Shaw girl like I used to.” Erik focused his gaze down onto mine.

Shoving my hands against his chest I scoffed at him. “I just want the answer to my question, Lehnsherr.”

“The answer is that….It makes me think we have something more special than everyone else you’ve met.” He leans forward creating a very tiny gap between us. I leaned my head forward closing the gap between us.

He raised a hand to my cheek cradling it gently. Gripping the fabric of his shirt I deepened the kiss until we heard somebody knock on the door. “Erik. It's time for training.” Charles's voice could be heard on the other side.

“You've got to be kidding me.” I grumbled under my breath.

He raised a hand to his lips. “Just keep your voice down and maybe he'll go away.”

The plan actually would have worked if my stomach had to start growling like crazy. I tried to calm my mind figuring that Charles probably wasn't going to leave. “Erik, you agreed to train with me earlier this morning. Then I will leave you to sulk over Addi and whatever feelings you have for her.”

“I have to go. I'll see you later.” I told Erik slowly climbing out of the bed trying to not make the wooden floor creak.

He sat upright on the bed slipping his boots on. “You owe me, Addison.”

“Addi, just say it please.” I snapped my head up, sending him a glare.

Erik steps towards me using his powers to drag me into him by the metal coin necklace. “Hmm…How about over a drink later, Addison.”

“Deal.” I agreed grumbling under my breath spinning on my heels facing the door where he slipped into the hallway. Waiting a few minutes I eventually left the bedroom going straight for the kitchen. Rummaging around in the cabinet I made myself a cup of coffee about to take a drink until someone uttered.

“You aren't very subtle.”

'`Jesus christ!’ I shrieked, levitating a knife at whoever was behind me.

Raven jumps backwards seeing the knife hovering in her face. “Sorry didn't mean to scare you.”

“Well , you did. Now what did you mean by "I am not good at being subtle?” I questioned the blonde dropping the knife to the island countertop and gripping my coffee cup in my hands.

She walked over and stood on the other side of the island. “It’s written all over your face that you spent time with Erik last night.”

“Oh gosh really?” I covered my face with one hand.

She smiled, beginning to tease me like we were in school gossiping over boys and such things that I would have liked if it didn’t involve me and Erik personally. “So what happened last night. Did you two know…” She pounded the air upward with her fist.

“Ew no. Raven, I hadn’t even kissed anyone until last night. We’re in no way close to that point.” I told her gagging on my drink, my face turning bright red just thinking about it.

Raven sent me a raised brow. “I knew there was something going on with you two. Boom, I knew it!”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” I ran a hand through my hair taking a long sip of my coffee.

The shapeshifter still was over the moon about us. “This is a huge deal. I mean everybody else thought that you two would rip each other’s head off. What with all the tension surrounding you, but not me. Ohh you’ll a couple name.”

“Raven, I don’t think you can call us a couple. We’ve only kissed one time.”

She wasn’t backing down though. “Yes but you want to kiss him again, don't you?”

“I….uh…maybe.” I stammered off sitting my empty cup down and covering my face with my hands while leaning my body into the island.

She squealed, throwing her arms around me in a tight but comfortable hug. I hugged her back lightly watching her run out of the room. “I will get back to you on that couple name.”

For the remainder of the day I just had the house all to myself until Hank came into the living room calling my attention. “Addi, come watch. Banshee is going to try and fly again.” I followed him up onto the large satellite that was outside of the mansion seeing that they had given him wings in his suit.

“And you truly believe I'll fly this time?” The kid asked.

Charles said. “Unreservedly.”

“I trust you.” Banshee says

Charles nodded. “I'm touched.”

Crossing my arms over my chest I was standing beside Erik eyeing the kid who was clearly panicking. “I'm gonna die!”

“Look, we're not going to make you do anything you don't feel…” Charles trailed off.

Erik gently pushed the kid off the edge. “Here, let me help.”

Scrambling to the edge of the railing I gripped the vars where Charles screamed out in pure panic. “Erik!”

Banshee began quickly falling down towards the ground where everyone thought he was going to get hurt. Yet he started screaming loudly and he flew up into the air. “Oh thank god….I am so going to kick your ass.” Glaring at Erik with my hair blowing in my face.

“What? You know you were thinking the same.” Erik chuckled placing his hand over mine until I slapped him lightly on the arm.

“The president is about to make his address.’ Everyone climbed down to the ground hearing the lady from the CIA call our attention before we all rushed back inside the house.

Gathered together in the living room in front of the TV it was declared to the world that a war was coming. “It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile crossing the embargo line that surrounds Cuba as an attack by the Soviet union on the United States requiring a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet union…”

Erik stands beside me. “That's where we're going to find Shaw.”

Raven questions him. “How do you know?”

“Two superpowers facing off and he wants to start world war III. He won't leave anything to chance.” Charles explained.

“So much for diplomacy.” Erik glanced down at me, quietly leaving the room only saying the final word to me in a whisper. “I suggest you all get a good night's sleep…and it's time we have that drink.”

Slipping on a light blue sweatshirt and some leggings I made my way through the mansion finding Erik sitting in front of the fireplace. Rounding the couch edge I sat down beside him. “So tomorrow's the big day. I'm not sure I'll be able to get much sleep.”

“We will just have to try.” He paused in his sentence pouring me some drink into my glass handing it to me. “You do realize what I'll do when we locate Shaw right?”

“Yes I know.” Taking the glass from his hand I felt the burning taste go down my throat when I drank the Bourbon. “What will you do once he's gone?”

Erik took a long sip from his glass. “Not sure. What are you afraid I'll leave you?”

“Maybe I am. We've been there for each other our entire lives almost.” I admit tapping my fingers on the glass looking into the flame burning in the fireplace.

Erik shifted his gaze over to me silently watching the blonde at his side. He wasn't sure how strong his feelings for her were. He just knew that he never wanted to hurt her intentionally. “You don't need to worry, Addison. Remember what I taught you in chess.”

“A king always needs his queen.” I mumbled back to him with a soft tone and a smile on my face.

Erik finished his drink getting up to stand offering me his freehand tugging me up with him. He put our glasses on the table and lifted the coin in between his thumb and index finger. “I'll need this back tomorrow, Addi.”

“Don't you worry, Erik. You'll know where it is the entire time.” I nodded, lifting my gaze to meet his brown eyes. He focused his gaze on me standing close to me briefly before we separated and headed off to bed.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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niche-artist · 8 months ago

Text

Seeing as count the ways is currently in lead, I will for now, Ramble about count the ways a little, I should make a special tag for it… #CTW:Death’s circus. If you have suggestions feel free to tell me in the comments, message, ask or reblogs, I don’t mind how ever you chose to. Below is my rambling, enjoy

So during the winter holidays after the whole incident of the Bazaar and Dylan, Millie seeks for her own way to pass the time away from everyone, away from Brooke, away from Dylan, away from those horrible people at school and even from her grandfather, Finding it so hard to look him properly In the face after angering him and blowing off the whole Christmas party. [ Also! Uh disclaimer, I am an Australian so if I get American things wrong like how long a winter break is or all that shenanigan. ]

So Millie finds out about a new restaurant opening, a Circus themed, animatronic restaurant with the highest and newest tech of the era. It’s become a beloved place for the children, yet it holds dark rumours floating around, about how children were killed in the place these originally had came from and are also rumoured to have been hand crafted by a child serial killer who was never found again and was the founder of the whole franchise with a guy named Henry.

Either way, Millie thought it was a great place to hide away, Most of the people who she’d be hiding from would avoid such a disgustingly happy and childish place right? So when Millie wasn’t locked away within her room, doing homework or anything she’d slip away to the restaurant. Her first encounter with the crew was interesting, She felt disturbed by all of them. Their lifeless dead eyes, Permanently grinning smiles sent chills throughout her body.

Millie managed to find the perfect hiding spot within the place, Dark, secluded and muffled most of the sounds of screeching little kids. Not even employees ventured back there much and this is where Millie would have most of her days planned out, bringing her laptop and passing by the animatronics and children and heading right off into that one little space where no one else ventured or could see. Except for one particular animatronic who watched her close and grinned even wider, This will be a Funtime, won’t it?

This concludes my starting ramble, I have many other things to ramble about but I’m not gonna go too much further, would ruin the fun after all, Dylan, Brooke and all that will be reoccurring, Uh, I need to decide wether or not I wanna keep bonbon’s existence, because I don’t like bonbon too much but Funtime Freddy definitely does

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aloneinthehellfire · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 4: Leverage

Fortress Of Memories

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death/killing, possession, you are gonna hate me for the ending of this chapter i fear

[A/N: well... yeah. i have no explanation for this one ig.]

Leverage

Present Day. Hawkins Middle School. Upside Down.

- Jonathan, Steve, Robin, Argyle

“He’s using her for leverage.” Jonathan says, pacing, “He has to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Robin interrupts, running her hands down her face, “Are we talking about Nancy or Y/n?”

Jonathan stops, frowning. “Both.”

“Okay, sure. Nancy was taken, probably because Vecna/Henry/One wants to scare us.” Robin nods along, eyeing Steve as he stares out from their hide-out.

The Hawkins Middle School was the first building they had seen in miles. Knowing they couldn’t stay in the forest, they headed into the building and ended up sitting in an old classroom, everyone too on edge to reminisce childhood memories.

“But, if you’re right, why would he take Y/n and just not tell us about it?” Robin raises her eyebrows, “I’m not an expert or anything, but surely it can’t be leverage unless you let the people you’re using it against know that you have it.”

“Shit.” Jonathan breathes out. “I don’t know how. It just has to be that.”

“Nah, man.” Argyle speaks up, shaking his head slowly while half zoned out, eyes focused on a single rock on the ground, “Dude probably kept her to use as blackmail when you attacked him.”

Everyone goes silent, turning their heads. If they were expecting another smart remark, they were sorely mistaken.

“Stupid rock.” He chuckles and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Well, he’s gone.” He comments, taking a breath and pulling out a backwards chair to sit, resting his arms on the back as he looked to everyone, “But he could be right. When I saw her… I don’t think it was a trick. I mean, she disappeared as soon as she tried to reach out for help, I- I think he’s waiting for the right time to use her against us.”

“He’s controlling her.” Jonathan says quietly, head in hands, “And we have no idea where she took Nancy.”

“You think it was her?” Robin whips her head up and he nods solemnly.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try the Creel House.” Steve suggests, trying his best to be helpful. He felt like he screwed up enough lately.

“You mean the same Creel House that has a gate through it? The same one with hundreds of bats guarding it?” Robin stresses and he simply shrugs. “Well, count me in, I guess.”

“It’s a start.” Jonathan decides, nodding at Steve’s plan. He couldn’t help feel betrayed by him, but he understood.

“Is everyone good to keep moving?” He asks the group.

Steve and Robin merely hum in agreement and Argyle is too spaced out to care what they do.

So, they grab their gear and head out, Jonathan dragging Argyle with him as the stoner desperately reaches out to the rock and swipes it from the ground before leaving the room.

They were going to find you and Nancy.

Whatever it takes.

Present Day. Vecna’s lair. Upside Down.

-Eddie

Screeches from demobats echoed across the plane Eddie walked across, completely unbothered by the noise and rows of teeth. If anything, they feared him.

He keeps walking until his body is suddenly paralysed, restricted. But Eddie doesn’t panic. In fact, this has happened enough times that it merely felt like a greeting.

Up ahead, Vecna comes into view and Eddie calms his heart-rate, nodding to show submission and he’s free from his invisible restraints, walking over. As he did, the world around him shifted to his boss’s mind lair, the figure himself stood below a staircase leading to nowhere.

“She’s here.” Eddie relays, “Eleven is in the Upside Down. And she’s not alone.”

“Good” Vecna responds, looking out to his left. Eddie follows his gaze, watching the objects that swam through the air. “Bring her to me”

Eddie turns back to him, nodding his head.

“And take care of her friends. Use whatever you need” He adds, a small smile appearing on his burned lips, “We don’t want any heroes”

The world around him vanishes to dust, Eddie left standing alone in built up fortress, whispers from stolen souls echoing around him.

He simply steps out of the building, looking up to the sky at where the bats swarmed around.

His goal was to find the kids. And do what was necessary. And Vecna had given him permission to use their greatest weapon.

Something in his chest screamed at him, as it always did. It had been bugging him for a while, a feeling he couldn’t shake that made him feel as if he should be running.

And it had been happening ever since you tried to leave the Upside Down.

September 1986. Weathertop. Upside Down.

You’re dragged across the cold dark grass, vines wrapped around your throat.

It hadn’t taken Vecna long to realise you had uncovered his secret. It made you dangerous, and he couldn’t risk you telling Eleven. Not when he was so close to having it all.

So, he had sent his trusted soldier to bring you back, cutting off your cry for help to an unsuspecting Steve. You had screamed and kicked as much as you could, air restricted from the vine’s tight grip.

Once the shock of gravity wore off, you felt yourself let out a choked sob. You were never going to escape.

Your body is pulled through the Upside Down for a few seconds before you’re dumped on the ground, struggling for air. You could try and run again, but you wouldn’t make it far.

The thud of boots against the ground catches your attention and you whip your head up, your heart breaking at the sight.

Eddie stared down at you, his crimson eyes making you shudder. You couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault he was here, your fault he ever entered the Upside Down in the first place. If you had just talked him out of selling to Chrissy, he wouldn’t be a soul-less monster.

“Eddie, please.” You cry out just as your body is slowly lifted from the ground. Eddie’s eyes drift to focus on something behind you, but you don’t need to look. You knew who it was from the tightness in your chest, your paralysed body levitating in the air.

As you cry out, trying to fight, Eddie feels his gaze involuntarily look back to you, focusing on the tears streaming down your cheeks. A pang of guilt and rage struck his chest, a faded memory in his mind.

You, your smile. Your touch.

Then nothing.

You drop to the ground, breathing heavily, before slowly standing back up, eyes flickering black. And just like that, it was like nothing ever happened.

Eddie watches as you walk away with Vecna, trailing after him like some lost puppy. He hadn’t felt anything in a long time, not that he remembered anyway. But to see you fighting, see you in pain, something inside him started to chip away at the barrier around his soul.

And he couldn’t help but feel something was very, very, wrong.

Present Day. Wheeler House. Upside Down.

- Nancy, Y/n

“How long has it been?” You ask groggily, head pounding.

You hadn’t experienced your own thoughts in a long time, let alone your own feelings. And now they were all rushing back, hitting you like a brick, and it hurt.

“How long?” You ask again when Nancy doesn’t answer, her head down as she rubbed her wrists mindlessly.

“About nine months. Almost ten.” Nancy replies quietly and you feel your stomach drop.

“Oh.” You say simply, nodding. You had been Vecna’s mind slave for nine months. And the things you’d done… you didn’t think you’d ever sleep again.

“We didn’t know.” Nancy’s voice brought you back to reality, her tearful eyes staring back at you, “We thought… we thought you were gone. If we had known-”

“It’s okay, Nance.” You try to smile, reaching your hand out to hold hers. “You didn’t know. And that’s okay. Because you’re here now. I’m here now.”

Nancy grips onto your hand, something healing within herself. For months she had been reliving your death, your sacrifice, the smile on your face when you made peace with your end before pushing off the ground and leaving her life forever. You were her closest friend, the only one she had connected with after Barb’s death, and she lost you. Almost.

“Wait.” Your eyebrows scrunch, clearing your throat from the choked up tears, “Why are you here?”

“Jonathan.” Nancy says and your face drops, anxiety setting in.

Jonathan. You remembered finding him and the others, the split second decision you had to run away before you hurt them. Then your brother followed you, Vecna instructing you to take one of them. It was all a blur after that.

“Is he okay?” You panic and Nancy quickly nods.

“Yeah, yeah he’s…” She scrunches her forehead, “He’s not okay. Not… not since you…”

“Died.” You reply thickly, looking out and staring at the music box on Nancy’s desk.

“He wanted revenge.” Nancy explains quietly, “We all knew he was going to go into the Upside Down. Couldn’t talk him out of leaving. But we all wanted Vecna to pay for what he did. To finally end all of it.”

“And Will?” You ask, voice thick with buried tears, “My mom?”

“They were coping with it the last time I saw them.” Nancy offers a small smile, squeezing your hand, “Hopper was taking care of them.”

“He’s alive?” You frown and Nancy lets out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, you, uh, kinda missed a lot.” She says and you shake your head, hints of a smile lifting your cheeks.

“Nine months is a long time.” You sigh, head resting back against the wall.

You did your best to stay strong. But the nightmares were still alive in your mind, everything hitting you like a rush of guilt. It didn’t take much longer for the tears to finally escape.

Nancy immediately pulls you into a hug, holding you as you wept. She couldn’t imagine what you went through. All that time down here, and they had no clue you were even still alive.

“He’s going to win.” You sob and Nancy pulls back, shaking her head.

“No. He’s not.” She insists, and when you continue to cry, she places her hands on your shoulders, “Y/n, we aren’t letting him win. Not again. Okay, we- we have you back. That gives us the upper hand.”

“How?” You breathe out, wiping away your tears.

“Because you know where he is.” Nancy realises and your eyes widen, nodding.

“Yeah.” You agree, before sighing. “But I don’t know the specific location. It was more like… a beacon, of some kind. Whenever he needed us, it was like I just drifted towards his lair.”

“Us?” Nancy questions and your heart drops.

“Eddie.” You gasp, looking at your wide eyed friend, “He’s alive. He- something changed in him but he’s here.”

“Changed how?”

“The bats turned him.” You grimace, “It’s bad. Really bad. And he’s being controlled just like I was.”

“The bats?” Nancy shakes her head, “But- Steve is fine. The bats didn’t change him.”

“Because he didn’t die.” You say knowingly and Nancy slowly nods, licking her lips.

“Okay.” She finally says after a while, finding your eyes. “How do we help him?”

“We need to find him first.” You sigh, looking to the door, “And the others. For backup. I know I can reach Eddie, I just know it. But he’s not the only thing crawling around here just waiting for prey.”

“Demogorgons?” Nancy suggests, but when you turn back to her, she feels her hairs stand on end.

Because the terrified look you gave her implied that whatever else was down here, was much worse than anything they’ve ever dealt with.

Present Day. Hawkins Memorial Hospital. Upside Down.

- Will, Mike, El, Dustin, Lucas

“We get to the Creel House, and El takes care of the rest.”

Lucas nods at the girl beside him, her face just as hardened as his. Years ago, he never thought El would be his closest friend. He remembered how he didn’t trust her, but now he didn’t think he trusted anyone else.

If anyone was going to help him bring Max back, it was her.

“Are we really going to walk through that cloud of smoke?” Dustin voices his concern, staring at the thick layer of dust swarming in front of them.

They were at the very heart of Hawkins now, flipped or not, where the gates had merged. And now, as they walked past the Hawkins Memorial Hospital, Lucas tries not to think about Max laying in her hospital bed, surviving from feeds of tubes.

The air is darker here, dust flooding their senses and they all make sure to pull up their masks and strap on goggles to make it through.

“Guys.” Will’s voice calls out just before they brave the foggy path, turning back to him. They couldn’t see, but Will’s face was written with anxiety. “I’m not so sure about this shortcut. I think we should just turn back and go through the woods instead.”

“No, we’ll just be wasting time.” Lucas insists, stepping towards his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, we just need to keep moving.”

And with that, it was decided. Lucas was already heading off into the dust and the others had no choice but to follow him. Each step brought them into the thick of the smoke, huddled together to ensure no one would be lost.

El’s steps, however, become slower as she finally senses Will’s unease, turning her head to look at the faint outline of a building in the distance. The library.

And with a flash of red lightning in the sky, a shadow was revealed and El feels fear strike her nerves.

When she stops, eyes widening, she frantically tugs on Lucas’ jacket.

“What?” He asks, turning around and following her pointed finger. He almost dropped his crossbow.

As soon as he halted all movements, the others caught on and followed their friend’s gaze, breaths hitching.

Because the shadow was bigger than anything they had seen, possibly bigger than the flesh-built Mind Flayer they had battled that one summer. And once the shadow suddenly moved, that’s when it revealed itself, another flash of lightning burning the sky and illuminating the figure for just a second. But a second was all they needed.

One giant monster. Three heads. And a gaping mouth.

And once it turned their way, wings spread either side of its body and a stomach-churning roar vibrated the ground they stood on.

“Run.” El said breathlessly and they obeyed, sprinting as fast as they could and praying the monster didn’t follow.

If El was afraid, then they all should be too.

Barely able to make out the path in front of them, they blindly manoeuvred their way down the road, too many close calls with vines for them to relax. Never looking back, they made their way through the thick dust.

Lucas found himself running side by side with Mike, both taking the rear as Dustin, El and Will led them to a hope of safety.

All he could hear was his own shallow breath, the thud of his footsteps vibrating his nerves.

Then, in a split second, the boy in the corner of his vision disappeared and he came to an immediate stop, turning around with his crossbow aimed.

When the dust finally cleared enough to reveal what was happening, he almost dropped the weapon in his hand.

“NO!” He yells out, catching the attention of his friends as they rush over, following his silhouette as it disappeared into the dust ahead before a scream echoed out.

Present Day. Hopper Cabin. Upside Down.

- Jonathan, Steve, Robin, Argyle

They heard the roar of something big just as they stumbled across Hopper’s cabin, prompting their entrance into the wooden building with rushed footing.

“What the hell was that?” Robin asks, looking to Steve as he situated himself by the window as a lookout.

“I don’t know, and I don’t wanna know.” He responds, but his eyes never left the grime stained glass.

“Fuck.” Jonathan whispered out, head in hands as he sat on the ratty old couch.

“Uh-oh.” Argyle suddenly says, heads snapping to him with wide eyes.

“What?” They ask in fear, Steve peering out of the window as if Argyle had seen something he didn’t catch.

“I left Rocky.” He finally replies, looking very upset, and everyone slowly turns to look at him again, matching faces of disbelief.

“Okay so let’s review.” Steve steps forward, hands on his hips, “Nancy is missing, possibly taken by a mind-controlled Y/n so we need to find them before we can kill Vecna. Our only option is to head to the Creel House and pray that they’re there while there’s some giant, most likely human-eating, creature on the lurk. And Argyle has lost his pet rock. Anything I missed?”

“Other than the fact that we’re totally and royally fucked?” Robin adds, grimacing, “Nope, think you got it all.”

“It’s my fault.” Jonathan mumbles into his hands before lifting his head to meet the eyes staring at him, “I shouldn’t have dragged you guys down here.”

“We weren’t gonna let you go on your own, man.” Steve sighs, hesitant for a moment before joining him on the couch. “We all want that sucker to pay for what he did.”

“There wasn’t anything you could have said to make us not go.” Robin shrugs, “Plus Nancy would have kicked our asses if we didn’t help you.”

Jonathan lets out a small chuckle before a frown fits onto his face. “We need her.”

“Yeah.” Steve agrees, rubbing his face, “I feel like she’s the only one who ever has an actual plan.”

“I gotta plan.” Argyle announces and Steve rolls his eyes, Jonathan squinting.

“Do you?” He questions, doubtful, and Robin shakes her head in amusement.

“Yeah.” Argyle sends a smile, spinning around from his spot on the floor and facing the others, elbows rested on his knees. “And it’s good.”

They all share a look before Robin gives a small shrug. “Tell us what you got, my strange and very high friend.”

Argyle clears his throat. “We just need to find our little superhero dude.”

“Uh…” Steve frowns, leaning forward, “You mean, El?”

“Yeah!” Argyle points at him in agreement, nodding. “She can do her voodoo thing and figure out where Wheeler girl is.”

“Dude,” Jonathan takes a breath, holding out his hands, “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s not with us.”

“Yeah, which is why we find her.” Argyle smiles and Jonathan shakes his head.

“We don’t have time to leave, go get her and bring her with us, Nancy could be in serious danger right now.”

“Leave?” Argyle laughs, tilting his head and stretching out, running his hands down his legs, “Nah, brochachos, we just gotta find her here.”

Steve blinks. “Is he making sense to anyone else?”

“Nope.” Robin replies.

“What’s not to understand, man?” The guy chuckles, leaning back and propping himself up by his elbows, “Our small friends are definitely cruising around this place for the same reason we are.”

“How do you know that?” Jonathan leans towards him, eyes wide.

“Cause they said.” Argyle shakes his head as if it was obvious, “Remember? Little Byers and his merry friends were whispering about their superpowered friend killing Vecna like ages ago. Planned out a whole thing and everything. Pretty sure they left around the same time as us.”

The cabin is quiet, shocked looks on everyone’s faces.

“Wha- what?” Steve frowns, “Why- what?”

“They’re here?” Jonathan stands up, panicking. “Will is here?!”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Robin gawks at him.

Argyle simply shrugs and shifts on the floor, something digging into his hip. “I thought you-”

His words are cut off with a happy gasp, pulling something out of his pocket and revealing a small rock in the palm of his hand.

“Yooo!” He laughs, “It’s Rocky!”

“Will is in the Upside Down.” Jonathan ignores his friend, looking at Steve instead who sported the same panicked expression.

“Which means Dustin is too.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that whole god damn party. Jesus.”

“Okay, well… shit.” Robin expresses, gulping. “So I guess we’re gonna have to find the kids as well.”

“You’re making that sound a whole lot easier than it actually is.” Steve panics, pacing the room.

“I knew I should have talked to him.” Jonathan says, mostly to himself, as he tightens his lips before letting out a breath. “If I had even just paid more attention to him, just been there. God, it’s all happening again.”

He crouches into a sitting position, trying to control his breathing. Will was in the Upside Down with the others, way in over their heads. And Jonathan had been too self-absorbed to even realise.

“Okay, let’s all calm down a second before you freak me out.” Robin stands, holding out her hands. “So, right, that’s a big hole in our plan. Like, another big hole.”

“Hole.” Argyle chuckles to himself and Robin shakes her head, ignoring.

“But it’s fine. We- we just need to get them and then find Nancy and Y/n, so we- yeah, okay, we’re fucked.” She sighs in defeat, flopping back down to the chair.

“Radio.” Steve suddenly says, snapping his fingers, “Dustin never goes anywhere without his god damn radio, do we have one?”

“Why would we bring that?” Jonathan shakes his head, eyes to the floor.

“Nancy would have.” Robin jumps up, lunging towards the bag beside Argyle and rifling through it before letting out a sound of victory. “Yes! Okay, see? What do I do now?”

Rather than wait for answers, she thrusts it into Steve’s hands. He wastes no time in trying to communicate.

“Henderson?” He speaks into the radio, words frantic. “Dustin! God dammit, answer! Don’t tell me after all these years of you yelling at me to answer a freaking radio that you’re just gonna ignore me! Hender-”

“Steve?”

A small voice blares through the radio and everyone stands up to crowd around, even Argyle who wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.

Steve frowns. It wasn’t Dustin’s voice.

Jonathan grabs the radio and holds it to his mouth. “Will?”

“Jonathan!” Will’s voice was a little crackly, something in the background messing with the receiver.

“Buddy, where the hell are you?!” He questions, breathing heavily.

“We… centre… demo…” Will’s voice cuts in and out and Jonathan shakes his head.

“We can’t hear you!” He starts to panic now. He could hear the fear in his brother’s voice regardless.

“At the centre… Demogorgon… Mike!”

Steve and Jonathan’s feel their blood run cold, exchanging the same look of terror.

“What? What’s happening?” Robin asks, frowning at their expressions.

“Will, we’re coming! Okay? We’ll be right there!” Jonathan promises, handing the radio back to Robin and grabbing his sharpened golf club from the ground.

Steve joins him, wielding his bat and strapping on his bag, ready.

“What’s going on?!” Robin practically yells and they stop, looking back to her.

Her eyes catch sight of Argyle waiting patiently by the door, gear all attached and ready. She didn’t even see him move away from her.

“He said Demogorgon.” Jonathan says bluntly, glancing at Steve. “And I know you’ve never dealt with one but if we don’t get there soon, it could kill them.”

“But El is with them, surely they’ll be fine?” Robin suggests, readying herself regardless and joining them by the door, following when they step outside.

“If there’s one, then yeah.” Steve explains, stopping for just a moment to adjust his bag. “But we have no idea how many there are.”

Robin doesn’t object, clutching the radio in her hand just in case the kids tried to reach out again, and they all take off in a run towards the centre of town, praying they’ll make it in time.

Present Day. Hawkins Public Library. Upside Down.

- Eddie

Eddie watched as the kids took off running, the creature above him letting out a roar of warning. Of hunger.

He slowly raised his hand, ready to signal for it to attack at any time. But Eddie was hesitant. That nagging feeling was still in the back of his mind, especially when he caught a glimpse of the curly haired boy down below.

So, instead, he watched them through the smoke, three leading the way, two just behind. He had every opportunity to send the creature down there to take care of them while he snatched up Eleven. So why couldn’t he just do it?

Vecna’s force was constantly urging him to make a move. The stronger it became, the more painful it felt, until he realised he had no choice but to send the creature down and rid the Upside Down of any heroes.

But he never got the chance.

His hand slowly lowered, the monster above him still sitting patiently on its perch, and they both watched the scene unfold.

Out of the shadows, Demogorgons stalked their prey, caging them in from all angles. And the kids didn’t realise until it was too late.

The first attack came from behind, claws grabbing onto a boy and pulling him back before swiping at his face.

Eddie didn’t need to be closer to hear the scream leaving the boy’s lips, nor the yells of his friends as they hurried over, Demogorgons circling them and ready to pounce.

Something in his stomach churned and he had to look away, heart pounding. He couldn’t sit there while they were being attacked. He had to do something.

Standing from his crouched position, he readies himself to jump. Until every single limb is deemed paralysed, a chill running down his spine.

“You should have killed them when you had the chance” Vecna growled in his ear.

Eddie felt his bones slowly being crushed, but not hard enough for any damage. It was a warning, a reminder of what disobedience would bring.

“Now you’re going to watch them die”

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gontagokuhara · 10 months ago

Note

uhhh got any cursed camp facts? (pranks that went wrong, cryptic izuru, nagito dealing with the kids?)

hi anon! you sent me this ask in september 2019. this is me answering now in february 2024. oops! and well, not actually — everything below the cut was written also in 2019. why did i not post it? im actually not sure because when i refound it today it made me giggle. so i’m leaving it untouched as i left it because 1) it still bangs, and 2) it’s all still fun pointy objects lore that i think illustrates how deeply i’ve thought about the silliest aspects of this fic…….and for how long.

so here we go. KRAKEN RELEASED!!!

YESSSS OMG I LOVE THIS ASK!!!!! theres so many im thinking wont have a place actually in the fic so getting to expand on them is :D

a few months before kaito ends up at camp (~a year before shuuichi shows up at camp) the full year kids are tasked by a weary nagito and hajime to find a group project to work on together so theyll get along and stay out of the counselors hair. someone jokingly suggests making a documentary about life at camp, and the two counselors tell them to do whatever they want, and get them a camera to use.

of course, kokichi decides to ignore the thing about staying out of their hair, and thus ‘nagitoe toemaeda: the curse of camp hopes peak’ is born.

clownery of the highest degree ensues. they harass nagito with the camera, not telling him what it is theyre filming; when izuru happens to stumble in while theyre filming, they spend a whole day getting footage of him that they can later on mess with; it’s a fucking shit show and the finished product is 70 minutes of pure garbage but none of them can think about it too hard or theyll die laughing

the feature runs as a found-footage and interview based horror movie; people descibing the fearsome toemaeda, intercut with creeper shots of nagito just doing camp business, intercut with footage of izuru picking fights with nagito and being ‘killed’, intercut with bad dubbing by kokichi over clips of nagito speaking. even hajime ends up in the film, reading a script from somewhere just out of frame and commenting intermittenly about how dumb this whole thing is

the watching party is a massive success. everyone is rolling from how stupid and hilarious the whole thing is. nagito doesnt leave his office for three days afterwards, traumatized by the yells of “here comes toemaeda!” whenever he shows his face.

kaede first meets izuru when she is twelve, several months into living at camp. she has had no prior knowledge on him because nagito does his very best to keep him away from the campers, but he cant be everywhere at once, and kaede finds him in the kitchen one day while looking for a snack

she doesn’t quite know how to react, so she just goes about her business, thinking maybe he’s somebody’s weird parent, or something. but when nagito shows up out of nowhere, and the situation turns tense, she becomes frightened.

as it turns out.....nagito and izuru aren’t real big fans of each other. an uncomfortable staring contest turns into an argument that turns into an all out fight, and kaede, only knowing nagito as a pseudo-weird-parent-figure who she cares about pretty much more than anybody in the world, starts crying and trying to get izuru away from him

thinking in 12 year old girl terms, she starts throwing things. the first thing to actually hit izuru is a box of saltines. he goes very, very still after he’s hit, and kaede thinks he’s going to hurt her.

he stoops down, picks up the box, and rummages around. pulls out a saltine. eats it, slowly, nagito breathing heavily a few feet away. eats another one. looks between nagito, and kaede, and nagito again, before slowly stealing out of the room, box in hand.

kaede has found a way to placate him. nagito always makes sure to stock up on saltines after that.

#ask #dr #pointy objects #HAVE I NEVER POSTED THE IZURU SALTINE LORE BEFORE???? HAS THIS JUST BEEN AN UNEXPLAINED MEME BETWEEN ME AND MY SISTER FOR YEARS???#thats so fucking funny. OOPS #war never changes btw of course my dumb fucking ass was writing about po!kmha even back then. im an sdr2 girlie in my heart

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audioaujom · 1 year ago

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Sam and Sebastian Explore the Mines

Stardew Hub, < prev, next >

I know I write with these two a lot but I think they’re silly lil best friends and making them make questionable choices makes my heart happy. This time they explore a little deeper into the mines than they can handle, so whump and comfort ensues. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2043

Chapter TWs: Mild Blood and Injury, Violence

“You sure this is a good idea?” Sebastian asked cautiously, staring at the mine’s entrance with an incredibly eager Sam by his side.

“Totally!” Sam answered immediately, not nearly as hesitant as his friend as he excitedly bounced between his feet. “The farmer said they cleared out most of the higher levels of all the bad stuff, and as long as we watch our backs it's safe.”

Sebastian frowned, his stomach tangled into nervous knots. “That's what the swords are for?”

“They gave me some tips!” Sam cheered affirmatively, unstrapping both weapons from his back and holding one—a sharp blade made of dark glittering stone—out towards Sebastian. “Here's yours.”

“Oh.” Taking the sword gratefully, Sebastian tested its balance in his hands before sarcastically remarking, “I feel so safe.”

“Watch this.” Sam ignored the comment, holding his own blade out and spinning it by the handle, before starting to randomly slash it through the air.

“Stop playing with that!” Sebastian scolded, strapping his sword to his hip for easy access.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m good now.” Sheepish, Sam put his sword away as well, before looking to Sebastian hopefully. “Anyway, you ready?”

“I guess.” Sebastian sighed, still nervous but feeling a little better as he followed Sam through the entrance and towards a small, rickety elevator on the far wall. “I have always wanted to see what was down here.”

“Then off we go!”

Despite Sebastian’s many objections, they took the elevator down to the tenth floor, getting off with flashlights in hand. Somehow, natural light still filtered in, wet spots on the stone glittering in the low light as the two carefully hunted around to see what they could find. Sam carried the only pickaxe, using it to smash open rocks that got in their way and uncover hidden ladders that led down to floors below.

It was on the eleventh or twelfth level after Sam had managed to kill a strange crab creature that they finally seemed to be finding interesting things, Sebastian kneeling down behind a cluster of stones as a flash of white crystal caught his eye.

“Whoa, quartz.” He commented aloud, using the edge of his sword to knock a section loose so he could slip it into the bag he’d prepared for their adventure. “There really is a lot of cool stuff down here.”

“Told ya!” Sam cheered from nearby, Sebastian looking up as he heard Sam break another large rock. “Awesome! I think I found a geode!”

“Yeah. I saw the farmer carting stuff like that to Clint’s last week.” Sebastian commented as he jogged over to Sam, admiring the spherical rock in his friend’s hands. “Maybe if you take it to him he could help you crack it open.”

“So cool!” Sam was bouncing again, so excited he could barely contain himself as Sebastian watched with a smile. “This is so awesome. This is so cool. I’m so glad you came down with me.”

“Yeah, me too.”

After storing away their respective new items and finding the next ladder, it was no trouble at all for them to clear several more levels—grabbing crystals, gems, and ores as they made their way down. They encountered a few bugs, another crab, and one slime creature that the two managed to fend off, neither of them realizing quite how deep they’d gone until they hit level 30—a completely empty floor save for the elevator and a ladder leading all the way back up to the top.

“Hey, um, I think we should stop here.” Sebastian suggested awkwardly, glancing down the other ladder hole that led into complete darkness below. The tangled mess of nerves in his stomach that had gone away was back, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Something down there was bad news.

“C’mon, we haven’t run into any real trouble so far.” Sam didn’t seem to share any of Sebastian’s concerns, pickaxe up on one shoulder and one foot already on the top rung. “What harm could a few more levels do?”

“It’s getting late…” Sebastian tried, checking his phone for the time and realizing they were deep enough underground that they no longer had any service. “Besides, we’re so far down… if something really happens, we’re on our own.”

Sam deflated, eyes going wide to plead, “But… Please?”

Sebastian hesitated, before finally caving with an anxious, “Fine. But only a few more. To the next elevator level. Then we’re going home, okay?”

“Yes!! Okay, awesome, sounds good!” Sam grinned widely, quickly disappearing down the ladder happily. “Down we go!”

Sebastian waited until Sam called up that it was safe to go down the ladder, a chill creeping up his back from the way the light from the hole seemed to be immediately sucked away by the darkness surrounding them.

He pulled his flashlight out as soon as he hit the bottom, his beam roaming around the darkened stone walls as Sam walked around with a wide smile. “Oh man, is that iron?”

“I have a really bad feeling about this, Sam.” Sebastian shook his head, refusing to look around the ominous floor. “We should head back.”

“But we just got here!” Sam whined, his pout barely visible as he stood at the far reaches of Sebastian’s light. “Just a little more exploring? Please? I promise we’ll leave if something happens.”

“Okay, fine, but… let’s hurry.” Sebastian hesitantly agreed, cursing every time he jumped as water dropped to the floor or cold air gusted in from some crack in the walls.

His nervousness ended up paying off as he ran ahead to stop Sam, hearing what sounded like rocks crumbling and scraping together from up ahead.

“Wait, hold on a minute.”

Sam instantly stopped at the warning, listening for the noise as Sebastian gestured for him to do so. The two stood stock still in the not quite silence for a long moment, before they raised their flashlights at the same time to aim straight into the glinting eyes of a monster.

A loose conglomerate of stone was shambling towards them, misshapen glowing holes for eyes between the barely held-together stones locked onto the boys as its approximations of legs carried it forward.

“Oh shit! What the fuck is that?!” Sam exclaimed, stumbling back in surprise as a moss-covered arm reached out for him.

“Sam, look out!” Sebastian backed away, getting his sword out as he noticed it preparing to launch itself forward at his friend. Sam heard him but only continued trying to back away, not quite moving fast enough to avoid the monster as it collided with him, hard. “Sam!”

Sam fell backwards onto the floor of the cave, the monster on top of him as they skidded a little. Sebastian instantly ran over to them, sword out as he swung for the monster and Sam tried to push it off him. A return swipe from the monster’s weirdly sharp rock claws snagged onto Sebastian’s leg, him doing his best to ignore the pain as he cut the monster clean in two with a few more slashes.

In an instant everything was over, Sebastian awkwardly crumpled on the floor next to Sam, both of them bleeding as they frantically tried to catch their breath.

“You okay?” Sebastian asked after a moment, putting his sword away and trying to get to his feet.

“Are you?” Sam asked in return, Sebastian rolling his eyes as he then helped Sam up by slinging his arm over his shoulders.

“Whatever.” Sebastian half-walked/half-dragged Sam back to the ladder, letting his friend go first just in case he lost his balance. “We’re both breathing, so that’s enough for now.”

The two made it up the ladder rather slowly, then collapsing into the elevator that took them back up to the first floor. It wasn’t much of a struggle to get back outside, using each other for support.

“You're an idiot.” Sebastian chastised as soon as the two were out of the mines, Sam leaning more and more on him by the minute. His head was bleeding pretty badly, along with several scratches up his arms and on his chest.

“Yup. That’s me!” Sam exclaimed happily, his feet catching on each other as he tripped and nearly fell over.

“You must've hit your head harder than I thought.” Sebastian groaned, barely managing to keep them both upright. “That’s not a compliment, Sam.”

“Mhm. Sounds good.” Sam nodded, now looking as if he was about to drift off to sleep.

“Oh boy.” Sebastian sighed heavily, elbowing Sam lightly to try and keep him awake as they walked.

The trek down the hill to Sebastian’s house was thankfully short, though it took them several minutes longer than usual to finally burst through the front door—where they took a very confused Robin at the front desk by surprise.

“Hey, mom, we need—!”

“Oh god!” Robin ran out to greet them, hands nervously flitting in the air around both of them. “I'll go get the med kit, you lie him down on the couch.” She instructed, running out of the room with a yelled, “Maru!”

“Yeah? What’s—?” Maru’s head poked out into the hall as Sebastian helped Sam to the living room, setting him down on the couch before then collapsing into a nearby chair. “Oh man, what did you idiots do now?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, relieved to be off his feet but not quite taking his attention off of a delirious Sam. “Yes, we’re dumb. Save the scolding for after.”

“Don't let him fall asleep until we can assess the damage to his head.” Maru told Sebastian, running out to go get her own supplies.

“Got it.”

The two women came back together pretty quickly, Maru kneeling beside Sam as Robin came over to Sebastian.

“Here.” Robin opened her much smaller kit and looked at Sebastian expectantly. “Now let me see your leg.”

“Mom, I’m fine, it’s Sam who—” Sebastian tried to protest, only for Robin to gently shush him and push his tattered pant leg up out of the way.

“Isn’t going anywhere.” She smiled gently, digging through the med kit and grabbing a rag to start cleaning off his leg. “You're hurt too, and Maru can handle Sam. Just let me do this.”

“...okay.”

Half an hour later had Sebastian’s leg bandaged up good as new and Sam peacefully—and safely—sleeping on the living room’s couch, Maru back in her room while Robin and Sebastian sat nearby and talked in hushed tones so as not to wake the sleeping boy.

“What were you two thinking?” Robin demanded, worry cutting the edge of anger to her voice.

“We just… went a little too deep. Lost track of where we were and the time.” Sebastian explained evasively, not wanting to seem like Sam was at fault for what had happened to them both. “Sorry.”

“I’m not mad.” She sighed, grabbing Sebastian’s hands and squeezing them. “Really, I just… what if something worse had happened? Did you tell anyone you were going down there?”

Sebastian thought for a minute, watching Robin’s face fall the longer he took to answer. “I think Sam told the farmer what we were doing.”

“That’s a relief, actually, considering how often they’re down there.” There was some relief in the breath she let out, but that didn’t stop her from continuing to scold, “But that doesn’t mean what you did was safe.”

“I know, mom.”

“I know you know.” She squeezed his hands again before letting go to rub at her face. “And I know you know I have to say it. I was just so worried when I saw you boys come in here all bloody…”

“Sorry.” Sebastian apologized, reaching forward to pull her hands from her face with an apologetic smile. “It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, it will.” Robin smiled fondly back at him, shaking her head. “And as long as you boys can make it here, I’ll be here to patch you up every time. Just be more careful next time.”

“...yeah, we will.” Sebastian settled back into the chair he was sitting in, Robin carefully setting a blanket over him so he didn’t have to get up. “Thanks.”

“For now just get some rest. I’ll wake you in the morning for breakfast.”

#stardew #stardew valley #stardew fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #writing #whump #hurt/comfort #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv robin #sdv maru

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noxxha · 2 years ago

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Uchiha Madara personality (Chapter 624 - 625) part 3

As mentioned in part 2, Madara goes to battle with Hashirama.

While this is headcanon territory, it would not surprise me if Madara was pretty much suicidal at that point in time. The loss of Izuna, his clan in shambles and his dreams meaningless, would make it a rather plausible option.

He is a resilient individual (growing up in war, losing three brothers) but Izuna “meant the world to him”.

*Note: the following scans are fan translated, not the official ones as I only own the german version in physical format.

I honestly love the translation here tbh, it really gets across just how important Izuna was to Madara.

Madara and Hashirama clash. Take note of Hashirama’s expression there to the left - it’s chilling.

Madara loses the battle after a whole day of fighting and seems to quietly accept Tobirama’s judgement, before Hashirama intervenes.

This indicates that Madara was held in high regard as leader for the clan (but whether it was before or after Izuna’s death is up for debate, and if that view persisted if it was after Izuna’s passing) Madara at least seems very sure on the fact that no one “views me with such regard”

While this is a fan translation, I actually prefer it to the official translation when it comes to Madara’s words at the bottom left corner. “You know…that’s no longer possible…” actually suggests quite a few things about Madara, namely how he has given up so entirely on the possibility of their “wishful thinking” ever becoming reality.

In the german version Madara says “Das geht nicht…wir sind…” (“that won’t work…we are…”) in the first speech bubble.

But is it truly too late for them to turn around? Madara’s thinking here is rigid, absolute and “black and white” in its certainty that, yes, it’s not possible for them to achieve their dreams. Not after so much war and death.

The tough guy act from Hashirama is another interesting comment tbh. It can be something that was just said in this moment, and is more of a throwaway line than holding any significance, but it could also suggest something about Madara’s character (if maybe skewed as this is from Hashirama’s eyes and they have been fighting for over a decade since the river confrontation).

Madara offers Hashirama his ultimatum in an attempt - spiteful and cruel as it is - to once more trust the Senju clan.

What is interesting here is Madara’s expression. He watches Hashirama with a calculating and cruel gaze (probably aware of the choice Hashirama will make) that translates easily into “so you are willing to go this far eh? Well then…show me”

While I would like to talk about Hashirama here, I won’t at this point in time (that is for a separate post about Hashirama’s character).

Although, “speech bubble wise” Hashirama is no longer the unsure child/teenager back at the river confrontation, gotta give credit where credit is due.

Judging from Madara’s expression he looks tired, his earlier gaze of contempt has softened slightly when seeing Hashirama so easily agree to his condition to trust…him (as in Hashirama, not the Senju themselves)

It is made clear that Madara said what he did out of pain and grief. He does not want Hashirama to kill himself (Tobirama might be another story, but at the same time…he does not want anyone to go through the pain he had to go through with his beloved brother dying)

I’m sorry but no, this is not noble…ultimatum or no. This is a post about Madara, but I just have to say that Hashirama is…naïve and selfish is what I want to say. (They all are selfish, but Hashirama is not thinking twice about the fact that he is endangering his clan in this moment). Honestly, would Madara and Tobirama not been at each other’s throats had Hashirama succeeded with this stunt? Tobirama killed what was most dear to Madara.

The anime version below really captures Tobirama’s horror at having to watch his elder brother kill himself in front of him!

As much as they disagree with one another, they are still brothers and they do obviously care for one another…

And Madara goes back on his ultimatum when seeing that yes, Hashirama is willing to go through with killing himself to spare himself the pain of killing Tobirama (while hurting Tobirama in the process…)

Madara’s words indicate clearly that his words were a test, spoken out of grief and hurt, in the end. This indicates that Madara, despite everything, is compassionate and (paradoxically) kind at heart.

Maybe its here that Madara contemplates a world without suffering?

Their dream is made a reality at long last!

But tensions do not end there…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

#madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #tobirama senju #hashirama senju #naruto analysis #long #thoughts #ramblings

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

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Arthur throws a tantrum that has severe consequences;

Merlin suffers, and Gwaine just about manages to stop himself from killing The King.

TW: Extreme body horror and blood and grossness.

They're in a cave.

It's dark, and damp, and far too quiet, so despite the fact that their quest was successful, The King, his manservant, and Camelot's six best knights are still slightly on edge.

The traps had been circumvented, the artefact had been collected, the curse had been broken, and they were on their way home, but the buzz of dark magic hums through Merlin and Sir Mordred’s skulls, and the uneasy looks they keep sending each other worry Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine, which in turn worries everyone else.

Gwaine doesn’t know about Merlin’s magic, though he does know that the younger man has a lot more to do with Camelot’s (and Arthur’s) continued survival than he lets on. He won’t push, he won’t ask, but he’s an observant man who places all of his faith in Merlin, so if covering for him whenever Arthur casually asks if he saw the servant at the tavern, or supporting Lancelot whenever he makes a loud comment based on Merlin’s subtle whispered suggestion, is all he can do? Fine. He’ll do it.

Merlin’s face when he does so is always a little bit heartbreaking. He’s clearly grateful, for the trust, for the back up, for the belief, but Gwaine can see the desperation in his expression. Guilt and fear and apprehension all rolled into one, covered with a weak smile and a cheeky wink. Gwaine always pretends not to notice, and he can tell that sometimes Merlin is more grateful for that than he is for the original help.

Merlin’s stiffening back and faltered step finally persuades Gwaine that it’s time to step in again, but before he can loudly ask the group if anything feels off, a deep rumble echoes from below their feet.

It’s quiet to start with and the whole group freezes, gazes shifting sharply back in the direction they had come from; it’s only when the rumble suddenly morphs into a loud series of crashes and dust begins falling from the ceiling in aggressive swirls that Mordred yells:

“Cave-in!! We need to go!”

They all begin sprinting down the corridor, desperately hoping that their memory was serving them well; if they were right, if they hadn’t made any wrong turns or miscalculated the distance, the cave exit should be just around the corner. The rumbling only grows louder as they run, and within seconds, pebbles, and soon larger rocks and boulders, are falling from the ceiling.

It’s only Merlin, pushing himself faster so he can catch up to Leon, grabbing his cloak and pulling him to a halt, that stops the older knight from being crushed by falling debris. The curly haired knight widens his eyes for a fraction of a second before taking Merlin’s hand in his own and pulling him to catch up with the others, resigning himself to thanking the servant profusely when they were no longer running for their lives.

Everyone coughs the dirt from their lungs and rubs it from their eyes, hands out in front of them to stop them from running face first into a wall; Arthur’s victorious yell when they turn a sharp corner to see bright sunshine spilling into the tunnel about fifty feet ahead of them spurs the group even faster.

The ground somehow begins to shake even more viciously, and Elyan trips. He trips, and suddenly finds himself lifted in the air, only for a second, before he lands solidly on his two feet again. The knight knows magic when he feels it, and the others know it when they see it, so when the shaking stops all of a sudden, the dust frozen in the air and boulders shaking above their heads, they halt in their tracks.

Merlin, at the back of the group, lets out a pained groan, and all of their heads whip around, every single one of them panicking at the thought that their friend had been crushed or captured by some evil sorcerer. Their view of him is quickly blocked by Lancelot, though they can all see the servant’s shaking arms above his head, palms facing the no-longer-crumbling ceiling.

Gwaine is the first to step forward, cautious but quick, and he takes in a gasp at Merlin’s golden eyes. Lancelot doesn’t even spare him a glance, hands on Merlin’s shoulders as he lets out panicked whispers:

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Merlin, come on, you can’t hold this.”

Merlin just groans again, the sweat gathering on his brow as he grinds his teeth together, barely even paying attention to Lancelot, and paying even less attention when Arthur finally steps sideways, sharply inhaling at the obvious display of sorcery. Everyone seems to have gathered what’s going on now, and their gazes are ripped from the struggling servant when Arthur clenches his fists and harshly sneers:

“You’re a sorcerer! How long? How long have you been betraying me?!”

When the King takes a threatening step towards him, Gwaine moves to be in his way, landing a strong hand on his shoulder and responding with equal anger:

“He’s not betraying you, you arsehole, he just saved all of our lives.”

Arthur throws his hand off violently and it’s only Leon’s quick reaction that stops him from punching the knight, though Gwaine looks as if he’d rather enjoy the fight. Lancelot turns his head quickly, scowling at both of them but not releasing his hold on Merlin as he rushes out:

“We don’t have time for this, we need to figure out how to get out.”

The King doesn’t seem to take in his words, just stares at him with disgust as he notices the way he’s practically holding Merlin up:

“And you knew? You’re a traitor too then?”

The ground shakes, only briefly, but it’s enough to remind everyone of the situation at hand, and Percival jumps in, ignoring Arthur’s anger and Gwaine’s mistrust as he puts a supporting hand on Merlin’s ribs:

“Can you move whilst holding it up? We’re about thirty feet from the exit.”

Merlin just shakes his head, eyes clenched tightly shut and jaw so tense that Lance worries about the state of his teeth. He takes in a ragged breath, sounding as if he has gravel in his lungs, as he stutters out:

“Can’t... you leave.... run.”

Arthur lets out a loud growl, and Gwaine turns to him in anger, but before he can throw an insult (or a punch) the ground shakes again; Mordred only just manages to grab Percival’s hand and sharply pull him down before his skull is caved in by the ceiling falling half a metre.

Merlin lets out another loud whine, and Lancelot releases a sharp breath at the trickle of blood coming from his nose. The knight’s voice is desperate as he speaks:

“Come on, Merlin, use that big brain of yours, how do we get out? You’ve dealt with worse.”

Merlin can only shake his head again, and a crack echoes down the corridor as he screams. One of his arms falls limply to his side and the knights notice with growing horror the odd angle of his collar bone and the lumps of bone under his skin. Tears leak from his eyes as he groans and his breath deepens, only managing to yell one word in his agony:

“RUN!”

The shout jolts the knights out of their terror, but Arthur seems to ignore him again:

“You’re a fucking trai-”

Gwaine does manage to throw a punch this time, but Leon pulls Arthur back before he can retaliate, dragging him back a few steps. Mordred grabs Lancelot’s arm, muttering so only the knight can hear:

“He’ll be fine, remember? We will not, we need to go.”

Lancelot gives Merlin a tender kiss on the forehead, muttering whispered desperate apologies to his best friend before turning and shooing Percival back down the corridor:

“Go, go! We need to go, he can’t hold it much longer!”

Arthur is suddenly reminded of the collapsing cave around him, anger at Merlin morphing into anger at the universe for both making his manservant a traitor, and making him find out in the middle of a life-threatening emergency. He stumbles towards the exit, hand covering his mouth against the dust and pebbles that are falling through the air once more.

Percival and Elyan follow reluctantly, looking back at their tortured friend with tears in their eyes, but move towards the sunlight regardless. Gwaine moves in the opposite direction, planting his feet in front of Merlin and cupping his jaw softly with both hands, resting their foreheads together. He ignores Merlin’s whispered “Go...” and digs his feet in when Leon and Lancelot attempt to pull him away.

It’s Leon that yells:

“Gwaine, come on, there’s nothing you can do!” as the two of them finally manage to force him back, but he thrashes in their hold, screams echoing down the cavern:

“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM!! LET ME FUCKING GO!!”

They only manage to drag him back a few feet before he breaks free, sprinting back towards Merlin. The servant opens his bloody eyes, glancing over Gwaine’s shoulder to see Mordred, Elyan, Percival, and Arthur falling out into the sun. He looks back to Gwaine when he feels his warm, calloused hands on his cheeks again, letting out a pained sob before grinding out a cracking:

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

He lifts his broken arm with a loud yelp, placing his violently shaking hand against Gwaine’s chest and pushing. His eyes flash brighter for a second, his scream guttural and horrifying, but all Gwaine can focus on is the way his body flies through the air with a force he’d never known; within seconds, he, Lancelot, and Leon are having their falls broken by sunlight and soft grass.

He whips his head up, wiping the hair from his eyes with a hand shaking from adrenaline. He can still see Merlin, now on his knees with agony scrawled across his face and blood pouring from his mouth; Gwaine’s brain supplies the explanation that the servant had probably bitten his tongue clean off, with the way his jaw was clenched so harshly. He stumbles to his feet, an outraged shriek bursting forth when Leon and Lancelot rush to grab him once again, stopping him from running back into the collapsing cave. He pulls against them, but it’s no use, and the last thing he sees before the dust blinds him is Merlin’s tired, bloody smile of relief at seeing him safe.

The impact of the mountain falling, even only a few feet, was felt across the entire Kingdom. The sudden earthquake threw all of the knights to the floor and it was only when the shaking stopped that they could finally stand again. It took a few more moments for the dust to settle enough that they could clearly see, but Gwaine’s breath is snatched from him when he looks to the cave entrance to see nothing but rubble.

He immediately rushes towards the cliff face, managing to evade Leon and Lancelot’s grabbing hands and uncaring of the danger of unstable debris. He hands land roughly on the stone, digging the fingers of one hand into cracks, and thumping his other hand, curled into a fist, against the rocks repeatedly:

“MERLIN!!”

His voice almost cracks, but he doesn’t care, continuing his desperate attempt to dislodge the boulders despite the others’ shouted warnings. Percival manages to grip his shoulder tight enough that Gwaine can’t slip free, and yanks him away from the caved-in entrance, but the shorter knight just whirls around in anger:

“What are you doing? He might still be alive in there!”

Percival shakes his head, tears in his eyes, but before he can respond Arthur pushes him out of the way and lands a hard punch to Gwaine’s cheek. The knight’s head rocks to the side, but he’s whirling back again within moments, being held back just in time by Percival before he can retaliate:

“You fucking knew, didn’t you?! You knew he was a traitor!”

Mordred clenches his hands and jaw in anger, but manages to keep any attacks in, verbal or otherwise. Leon and Elyan seem to be ignoring the fight entirely; the past few minutes had seemed to catch up with them as they stare despondently at the fallen debris. Lancelot stands back, looking an odd mix between heartbroken and frustrated, eyes darting around the clearing as if he were waiting for something.

Gwaine squares his shoulders, shrugging Percival off and taking a threatening step towards the fuming King, fists tightly clenched and eyes blazing:

“No. I didn’t know. But he just saved all of our lives, and I bet not for the first time.”

Arthur throws up his hands and turns in a short, angry circle before facing Gwaine again, his voice rising with every word:

“With fucking sorcery!!”

Gwaine takes another step forward, stopped only by Percival’s soft hand on his shoulder as he responds in equal anger:

“Who gives a fuck? Gods, Arthur, get your head out of your arse, he’s been by your side for ten years, sacrificed more than we will ever know for you, and you turn on him in a second when he saves your life!-”

He takes another step towards The King, desperately trying to ignore the tears that suddenly slip down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the dust, as he gestures roughly at the mountain behind him and jabs Arthur in the chest:

“-He’s dead, Merlin is dead, because of you! No wonder he didn’t fucking trust you, look what you did!”

Arthur recoils at that, anger melting from his face in a split-second as his wide eyes move from Gwaine’s face to over his shoulder. His shoulders sag and his eyes finally, finally fill with tears as his gaze darts from one boulder to the next. He gulps, slowly stepping around the grieving knight as his hands begin to shake; Leon finally breaks out of his stupor, stepping towards Arthur and putting his own shaking hand on his shoulder:

“There’s nothing you- we could’ve done.”

Arthur shrugs the hand off, moving closer to the debris as his breathing grows deep and he mutters to himself:

“He... can’t be. No, he’s... he might be alive in there, we... I-”

Mordred, his anger finally boiling over, steps in front of Arthur. The King looks down to his youngest knight and takes a stumbled step back at the snarl on his face and the gold in his eyes:

“My Lord has suffered, once more, at your hands. Part of me wonders if Morgause is right, perhaps there’s no hope left for you.-”

He takes a deep breath and steps slightly away from Arthur again, schooling his face into neutrality as he speaks on a monotone voice:

“-Help is on the way, do us all a favour and keep your sword to yourself when they arrive.”

Arthur is frozen in his shock, as are Leon, Elyan, and Percival, but Lancelot just looks mildly disapproving and Gwaine is too busy unclasping his cloak and unbuckling his belt to notice. Arthur turns around again at the clanging sound, only to see Gwaine dropping his cloak and sword at his feet:

“I quit. I thought you were the exception to my belief that all nobles are corrupt, hypocritical, tyrants... I guess I was wrong.-”

With that, he pushes past the distraught, frozen King, to stand in front of Mordred:

“-What do you mean, help is coming?”

Mordred raises an eyebrow but doesn’t answer, instead nodding over Gwaine’s shoulder pointedly. Everyone turns around, only to take in surprised breath at the group of fifty or so golden-eyed Druids making their way through the trees towards them. Mordred and Lancelot push through the others and jog over to meet them, bowing briefly in greeting and ducking their heads to have a whispered conversation. Arthur is still staring at the cave-in blankly, but Leon stops the others from joining them with a firm wave of his hand. The rest of knights were clearly not in the know, and they definitely weren’t in charge; best leave this to the people who actually knew what was going on.

Lancelot nods to the mountain and Mordred gestures to his own collarbone, a look of confusion on his face. A few of the Druids gasp quietly, staring at the mountain in grief, but their leader, a man that Leon recognises as Iseldir, sighs and nods, looking as though he was giving a short explanation before patting Mordred on the shoulder and finally beginning to make his way to the other knights.

Leon walks up to greet him, and Iseldir smiles and clasps his forearm as if they knew each other far better than they did:

“Good to see you again, Sir Leon, though I regret the circumstances.”

Leon sniffles slightly and nods, trying desperately to keep his professional façade up by ignoring his red-rimmed eyes:

“Indeed. Mordred said you were... here to help?”

Iseldir nods and moves towards the cave-in, sending a short glance to the still frozen King, his expression an odd mix of awed and patient an contemptuous, before gesturing the other Druids forward.

They all raise their hands towards the rubble, eyes golden as they chant lowly. The mountain begins to shake again, though it’s clearly a lot more controlled, and the knights can’t feel it even from only a few metres away; nevertheless, Percival and Lancelot still have to grab Gwaine to stop him from pouncing at them in his confused grief.

The knights all hold their breath, Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival in confusion, and Mordred and Lancelot in apprehension at what they would see. They know of Merlin’s... abilities. But this... a small part of them prayed that he had died, or that he was at least unconscious. A mountain as a blanket can’t be...comfortable.

After a few more moments the shaking becomes uniform, and boulders slowly begin to extract themselves from the cave entrance, floating through the air serenely and piling up a few metres to the side. The knights all hold their breath as the Druids strain, and Lancelot walks towards the cave with caution. His steps are slow and his hands are held out in front of him, ready to bolt at a moments notice, but he gets to the cliffside just as a narrow walkway through the middle of all the rubble opens up.

He looks back, waiting for Iseldir’s nod of approval before making his way into the darkness. None of the knights follow, despite their desperation to do so, knowing somehow that it wasn’t their place to rescue Merlin. Not this time.

Lancelot is gone for maybe twenty seconds before the others hear his wretched yelp, and it’s barely a few seconds later that he stumbles out of the cave again, pale as a sheet with sweat gathering on his forehead. He quickly staggers to the side, one hand using the wall to hold his weight up and the other resting on his bent knee as he leans over to vomit in the bushes. The knights are frozen in their shock, but tears gather in their eyes once more when Lancelot quickly turns to face Iseldir, wiping a hand sleeve across his mouth haphazardly, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks as he speaks desperately, his eyes manic:

“Please, please tell me he died. He... he can’t have lived through... lived through that.”

Iseldir gives him a mournful smile, but before he can say anything, Gwaine makes a dart to the entrance cave. Lancelot quickly steps in his way, digging his heels in and using all his strength to hold the bulkier man back:

“NO! Gwaine, you don’t want to see in there, ok? I swear to you, you will regret it for the rest of your life if you go in there.”

Gwaine pushes against him one last time, but quickly gives up, stumbling back and dropping to his knees with his face in his hands, muffling his cries. Lance’s distraught gaze finds Iseldir again, and the Druid nods:

“His body dies like any other, though we can only pray that it was quick. His resurrection will be incredibly... agonising however; I can appreciate the difficulty in what I’m asking, but might I request you stay at his side as he wakes? Myself and my group have strength in numbers and can hold the passage open for hours if needed, but I imagine he will begin to wake soon.”

Lance nods and moves towards the entrance again. No one mentions his uneasy steps or the way his hands shake. He pauses and looks back briefly at Arthur’s croaking question, but just gives a pointed look to an equally pale Mordred before continuing his journey:

“He’s... he’s still alive?”

Mordred steps in front of The King again, unwilling to let him run anywhere like Gwaine had tried, but it’s Iseldir that cryptically answers:

“No. But he will be.”

The Druid turns back to the cave without another word, re-focusing his magic onto the task at hand.

An odd silence deafens the knights, but if they listen hard enough, they find they can almost hear Lancelot’s gasping deep breaths as he once again lays eyes on... what’s left. Time seems to drag on, the silence getting heavier and heavier, though a long, low groan cracks through the atmosphere like a knife.

Percival lays a comforting but strong hand on Gwaine’s shoulder as everyone tenses, but no one manages to hold in their tears when the low groan gets louder and louder, rising in pitch until it’s an agonized screech.

Leon looks to Iseldir in horror, his eyes wide and his mouth open as he stutters over words he can’t force himself to say; Iseldir looks back at him, and the First Knight sees tears shining in his eyes at his Lord’s pain:

“The vital parts of his body, the skull and brain, the heart, the lungs, the spine, will have repaired themselves first, then he woke up. He will remain conscious whilst the rest of his body stitches itself back together; it is agony like no other.”

The screech halts all of a sudden with a sickening gurgle, the sound distinctly reminding the knights of someone choking on bone and blood.

Lancelot’s shaking voice echoes down the stone corridor:

“You... you can do this, Merlin. It’s ok, I’m not leaving you. Everything’s.. everything’s going to be ok, you can do this.”

At the horror and grief in his tone, Elyan stumbles forward to kneel behind Gwaine, covering his friend’s ears with his hands and pressing his forehead to the crown of his shaking head. Percival also sits with them, closing his eyes against the tears and attempting to breath slowly. Mordred stands still, but his hands and jaw are clenched tightly as he stares blankly at the grass at his feet, flinching ever so slightly at every groan and scream and cry that emerges from the darkness. Leon takes Arthur’s hand, and though The King doesn’t look at him, the tight way he squeezes his fingers is all the acknowledgement that he was still somewhat present that Leon needed.

The sound of Lancelot hiccupping through his sobs can be heard, but that’s quickly drowned out by sickening cracking sounds and more screaming.

Time seems both to drag and to fly by; anywhere from ten seconds to ten hours could’ve passed by the time Merlin stops screaming for good. The knights can’t help but feel selfish for how grateful they are that they didn’t have to watch it; listening to it was enough to give then nightmares for a long long time.

They finally hear a scuffling sound from within the cave and everyone’s eyes comes back into focus as they look up, not bothering to clear their faces of tears as they see Lancelot struggle to walk through the debris, Merlin hanging from his side with his arm over the knight’s shoulder.

Leon is the first to react, darting forward to help the exhausted, blood-soaked knight take Merlin’s weight. Everyone is frozen in horror at way Merlin’s tattered clothes hang off of him, absolutely drenched in blood; not even an inch of fabric has escaped being stained. Leon and Lancelot lay the groaning servant down in the soft grass as the Druids begin filling the tunnel with debris and rubble, wanting to make the structure as stable as possible before they stop holding the mountain up.

The golden-eyed sorcerers step back slowly, untensing when the mountain settles straight away; there must’ve been some sort of old magical trap in the stone, it would be best not to disturb it again if they could help it.

The knights gather around Merlin’s red form, noticing absent-mindedly that it was almost dark, so they must’ve been here for three hours at least. Mordred pushes to the front, his skin pale but his expression blank as he takes a clean rag and some water from his pack (the horses had been left at the entrance to the cave, so they thankfully hadn’t lost any supplies in the disaster). He made quick, but gentle work of cleaning Merlin as best he could, getting the blood off his face and hands and out of his hair. Lancelot pats him on the shoulder with a shaking hand before standing again and stumbling towards Iseldir; the knights barely pay him any attention as he walks off, focused entirely on Merlin’s limp body. No one attempts to touch him, not with the possessive glares Mordred is sending to anyone who gets too close.

The Druid cups Lance’s elbow, his grip surprisingly strong and supportive as Lancelot tries to gather his thoughts and force some sort of sentence out of his mouth. After a few moments, the quiet question eventually comes:

“What now?”

Iseldir smiles at him mournfully, glancing over his shoulder at the gathering of knights before looking back to Lance:

“That is up to The Once and Future King, I suppose. Emrys is exhausted, now that the pain has passed I imagine he’ll be asleep for several days. Look after him until he wakes, won’t you? I have faith that everything will work out in the end, but remember, Emrys, Sir Mordred, Lady Morgana, and yourself always have a place among us, should you want it.”

Lancelot gives him a small smile and steps back, nodding his gratitude at the other Druids before turning around and going back to Merlin, not looking back as they make their way from the clearing and back into the forest. He comes to stand behind Mordred, putting a hand on his shoulder and waiting until the younger man looks up at him before saying:

“It’s almost dark, we need to set up camp. He should have a spare set of clothes in his pack so you and I can take him to the river to wash and change him whilst the others get set up.”

Mordred takes a while to reply, but finally nods. He goes to pick Merlin up, but Gwaine beats him to it, gathering his unconscious form in his arms with more care than the knights have ever seen him exhibit before; Mordred freezes for a second, about to pounce on Gwaine for daring to touch him, but quickly relaxes as he remembers Gwaine’s reaction to... well... everything.

It doesn’t take them long to find a camping spot, Mordred and Lancelot leading the way back into the forest towards the river with Arthur bringing up the rear. Out of tactical necessity or guilt, no one knows, but no one bothers to ask.

Soon enough a fire is roaring and Mordred, Lancelot, and Gwaine have disappeared into the trees with Merlin. Elyan, Percival, and Leon share the occasional worried glance, both at the events of the day and Arthur’s disturbing stillness. It was maybe half a candle-mark after the others went to the river that Arthur cleared his throat and spoke, his voice croaky from tears and disuse:

“How... how long, do you think? How long as he been a sorcerer?”

His gaze stays firmly on the fire, even as the others bristle in slight anger, mistaking his questions for continued animosity. Leon is the first to answer, his tone slow and measured:

“To be that powerful, and to have Druids at his beck and call... a while, I imagine. Sire.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, and it’s Elyan that speaks next, his eyes narrowed and his tone far less regulated that Leon’s:

“Still plan on punishing him then? Trying to figure out how you should execute the man who just went through hours of endless agony to save your life?”

Leon looks to him sharply but doesn’t say anything, surprised by the normally-gentle Percival’s nod of agreement. Arthur looks up quickly as well, though his expression is one of shock and pain:

“What?! No! I wouldn’t.. I don’t... I just meant, how long has he had to hide? You... Gwaine, he was right. He’s probably saved our lives, my life, a dozen times pulling stupid stunts like that,-”

Arthur’s cut off by the others walking back into camp, Mordred giving him a blank stare as he says in a monotone voice:

“More than a dozen, Sire. Many more. He’s saved your life directly and indirectly hundreds of times. And never has he sought any credit. The two of you together are meant to be the saviours of this world, or so the prophecies say.-”

They all stare at him blankly as he sits down by the fire, Lancelot settling Merlin in Gwaine’s lap before covering them both with thick blankets and settling next to them:

“-Though I find myself running low on faith in you, My Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but stays silent, turning back to the fire again as the other knights stare at Mordred in confusion. He just huffs and rolls his eyes when he notices their questioning expressions, looking to Lancelot and frowning when the knight just nods at him knowingly. He sighs again, glancing to Merlin, still protectively wrapped up in blankets and Gwaine, before looking to The King and beginning to explain in a tired voice:

“Druid seers have been having visions of The once and Future King, that’s you,-”

Mordred points at Arthur, waiting for the blonde to look up and acknowledge the conversation before dropping his hand and continuing:

“-and Lord Emrys, that’s Merlin, uniting all of Albion under your shared rule, ushering in a Golden Age where the magic and the non-magic are once again in balance. Merlin was made aware of his role in these... fates, when he first arrived in Camelot. I also have a role, as do a few others, though no one else is aware of the... specifics.”

Arthur nods slowly, glancing worriedly to Merlin and Gwaine (who is paying absolutely no attention to the conversation, focused only on stroking Merlin’s hair and periodically checking his pulse) before looking into the fire again:

“The magic and non-magic in... balance?”

Mordred nods, the crease between his eyebrows growing slightly deeper as he slowly responds:

“Hmm. Magic is natural and necessary for the universe to function. You though the Gods wouldn’t intervene when your father started culling it?-”

Arthur blinked and sat up straight in his shock, but otherwise didn’t kick off, which Mordred was taking as a good sign, and continued:

“Magic is not evil, nor is it good. It just... is. Merlin is immortal, some say blessed, I say cursed, to be stuck on this earth, forever alone, until balance is achieved. How long, Arthur, are you willing to force him to wait?”

The knights all hold their breath in suspense, staring at Arthur who in turn is back to staring at Merlin. He gulps, blinks a few times, and shakes his head, before looking to Leon:

“How quickly can we make it back to Camelot?”

Elyan scoffs and Percival frowns, looking to the floor, the two of them obviously thinking that Arthur was dealing with this the same way he deals with his emotions: by ignoring it entirely until it became someone else’s problem (usually Merlin’s). Lancelot and Mordred just stare at him blankly, and Leon tilts his head in question before answering:

“About... five days? If we ride fast and don’t detour to the village like we said we would.”

Arthur nods, takin a deep breath as he stares into the fire again:

“Five days, I’ll make him wait five days. We can send a patrol back to the village when we get home, we’ll be too busy planning a... Golden Age, apparently.”

Elyan and Percival look up in wonder, Lancelot and Leon smile proudly, Mordred nods and grins, and Gwaine... well... Gwaine snores.

Merlin shuffles in his sleep, his look of pain morphing to a gentle smile as he curls into his knight’s chest, his soul, for the first time in a long time, finding peace.

THE END!!!

I think the ending might’ve been a little anti-climactic, but I’ve written so many magic reveals and “magic isn’t evil it just is” speeches that... I didn’t really know how to make it interesting or different😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!! It took me way longer than I’d hoped to get it finished because I’ve been so busy with work, but I’m relieved I finally got it done :D

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peaks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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the-great-lightwood-bane · 2 years ago

Text

doubt truth to be a liar

Malec | Rated general | tw implied/referenced cheating but no actual cheating

Day 15: Emotional Damage | Lies | Breathing through the Pain

Summary: “Alec, Magnus is cheating on you.”

Or, Izzy and Jace overhear something at Magnus' loft that makes them think Magnus is cheating on Alec.

A/N: title from Hamlet:

Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.

inspired by a thread on the @malecdiscordserver

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

“Let’s drop by Magnus’ loft after this,” Izzy suggested, killing the last demon with a slash of her adamas whip. “We need to restock on healing potions at the Institute, and it’s easier to pay Magnus directly rather than going through the Clave.”

Jace agreed, so they took a detour into Brooklyn and climbed up the stairs of Magnus’ brownstone. The door didn’t open when they tried it, though, so Izzy knocked, then listened for an answer.

Rather than approaching footsteps, she heard heavy breathing and the sound of regular movements, and turned to Jace with a smirk. “Sounds like Magnus is getting some.”

“I did not need to know that much about Alec’s sex life, thanks,” Jace said with an eyeroll. “Magnus probably warded it shut so we don’t walk in on them again. You’ll need to ask him for the healing potions tomorrow.”

Izzy nodded and led the way back down the stairs.

Alec glanced up from his pile of paperwork when the fire message came flying out of the air and caught it on reflex.

Opening it, he recognised Magnus’ handwriting.

Sayang—

I’m sure you recall that particularly volatile invention I’ve been working on. A cure for firewort plague is valuable, of course, but I’m really not sure if it’s been worth the time I’ve spent away from you to work on it. But now, I’ve (finally) come up with a reproducible potion, which is sadly going to result in more time without your company.

The Spiral Labyrinth has called an immediate Council meeting to “discuss the importance” of my invention, i.e. try to find fault with my methods and, if they can find none, talk about how they all could’ve come up with it if only they’d had the time away from their Very Important Duties (insert snide comment about the irrelevance of life outside of the Labyrinth). Worse, said discussion usually takes place over two or three days, during which time fire messages (and, predictably, cell phones) are prohibited.

Therefore, I am devastated to admit that I must relinquish the joy of spending time with you in order to attend a wholly unnecessary, ridiculous, and unpleasant meeting which is nevertheless compulsory for the “proper certification” of every invention of such importance. If I end up turning the Council into toads, I trust you will accompany me as I flee from their retribution. If I do manage to retain a fragment of unfortunate self-control, I will return to your arms posthaste the moment I am freed from my torment.

Until that happy time — which I look forward to with all my love for you — I must sadly say goodbye.

Yours, as always,

Magnus Lightwood-Bane

P.S. I don’t need to remind you to feed the Chairman, so I won’t. However, I do need to add that I miss you already, and that I sincerely regret not being able to kiss you before I go. Also, please remember to eat three meals a day; I will know if you don’t. I have spies. EAT FOOD.

xoxo ❤ ❤ ❤

Alec huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh, fondness at Magnus’ writing style warring with disappointment at his departure. He was glad Magnus had finally finished with the potion — the inventing process had been long and Magnus had spent hours working on it, which had meant even less time together than usual. At least once Magnus was back, that would be over; until then, Alec resigned himself to a cold bed and Magnus-less days.

At that moment, Alec’s office door swung open without a knock, which meant it was Izzy and/or Jace. He looked up, eyebrow raised, to inquire why they’d come barging in, but the expressions on their faces stopped him.

“Alec,” Izzy said, something like pain on her face. “We — you’ve been here all morning, Underhill said.”

“I got here at nine,” Alec agreed, looking from one to the other. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“We…” Izzy glanced at Jace, then back to Alec, clearly steeling herself to deliver some unpleasant news. “Alec, Magnus is cheating on you.”

Alec’s held breath huffed out of him in a laugh, tension releasing from his shoulders. “Magnus isn’t cheating on me, Izzy. I thought you had something actually worrying to tell me.”

“Alec, I’m really sorry,” Izzy said, looking near tears, “but he is. We dropped by the loft at around eleven to ask for a refill on some healing potions, but the door was warded shut and we heard sounds like he was having sex with somebody, so we assumed it was you, but if you’ve been here all morning—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec told her. “There’s some other explanation—”

“Do you think we’d tell you this if there were another explanation?” Jace broke in. “Alec, I know you don’t want to believe it, but we heard him—”

“You’re right. I don’t believe you,” Alec said, lips compressed, and tilted his head at the door. His siblings hesitated, then left, but not without casting him a last, anxious glance.

Left alone, Alec huffed, clinging to his certainty that they’d been fooled. There was another explanation; there had to be.

And yet his spinning thoughts couldn’t find one.

Was it possible? Could it be? Magnus wouldn’t — he wouldn’t — but what if—

Alec shook his head, trying to shake free the doubts. Magnus had married him three months ago. Why would he cheat on him? Magnus wasn’t the kind of person who’d do that to somebody; he’d suffered so much from what Camille had done to him. If Magnus wanted to break up with Alec, he’d do so to Alec’s face, not cheat on him with somebody else.

Right?

Frowning, Alec turned back to his reports, trying to focus, but the words blurred, and all Alec could think about were the whispers in his mind: Magnus is cheating on you. Do you think we’d tell you this if there were another explanation?

Magnus wouldn’t cheat on him. Magnus loved him. But there were other words whispering now, hidden insecurities that had wormed their way into his mind: How come you never go out to clubs with us, Alec? You’re such a stick-in-the-mud! (You’re so boring. Why are you like this. Why can’t you have fun for once in your life.)

Maybe your best just isn’t good enough. (Not good enough not good enough not good enough, never good enough, always falling short.)

Dial it down a notch, Alec. — You have a switch that’s always on. (So tiring to be around you when you’re like that. Nobody likes being with somebody so intense. Stop worrying about everything, it’s depressing.)

Stop being so grumpy. (Boring, annoying, a pain to be around, why should any of them put up with you, you’re just unpleasant to talk to.)

Other words drifted in and out like curses. Selfish. Boring. Naïve. Foolish. Weak. All of it was true, Alec knew that, Alec should never have forgotten it.

He’d always known it was far from inconceivable that Magnus might tire of him, might leave him when he realised that Alec couldn’t be all that he deserved. There had been so many times when he’d done something that should’ve been unforgivable — keeping secrets about the Soul Sword, the deal with Asmodeus — and yet Magnus had forgiven him each time. Had Magnus’ patience finally run out? Had Alec done something to make it run out? Or had he simply not been enough for Magnus, failed to meet some unspoken expectation?

No. No. Magnus wasn’t cheating on him, wouldn’t do that. This was ridiculous, as he’d told Izzy and Jace.

But the point remained that Magnus probably would get tired of him eventually. Alec had never been meant for happiness; that had been an incontrovertible fact of his childhood, and if he’d forgotten it when he was with Magnus, that didn’t make it any less true. Pride comes before the fall. He’d let himself believe that he could have this dream of a life Magnus had given him, and this was a wake-up call to remind him of reality. Alec was not meant for this kind of happiness. Even if Magnus wasn’t cheating on him, even if there was another explanation — there was still no reason for Magnus to stay with him for long.

Alec had never been enough for anyone in his life. Why should Magnus be any different?

He thought of the fire message he’d received under an hour earlier, of the endearments in every line. Was it all a lie?

With a shake of the head, Alec pushed the thoughts away. Even if all that was true, he’d already known it all, and none of it meant Magnus would cheat on him.

Maybe Magnus would leave him, but he wouldn’t cheat. That wasn’t the kind of person Magnus was; he’d never intentionally hurt somebody like that, no matter how little he wanted to be with them.

Unless — unless Magnus thought this was the kinder option. Unless he felt bad for Alec, pitied him, didn’t want to hurt him by breaking up with him. By divorcing him. Unless his relationship with Alec meant so little that a lie was better than a clean break.

Alec was mortal; more than that, he was a Shadowhunter, destined to live fast and die young. What hardship was it to Magnus, to let Alec believe they were in love, while he dated somebody else on the side? If it hadn’t been for Jace and Izzy, Alec would never have known, would have gone on believing he was enough for Magnus despite all evidence to the contrary, and then when he was dead, Magnus would be free again.

Then again — Magnus was kind, but he wouldn’t sacrifice decades of his life just so Alec wouldn’t get a broken heart. Magnus wouldn’t stay in a relationship out of pity. If it came down to that, if he didn’t love Alec anymore, he would divorce him; of that much Alec could be sure.

But even if he did still love Alec, to some extent, that didn’t mean Alec alone was enough for him. (Why would he be? When had Alec ever been enough for anyone?) Perhaps Magnus still loved Alec, still wanted him, but wanted more, too. Perhaps he really didn’t want to break up with Alec; perhaps whatever he’d seen in Alec in the first place was still there, only less than he’d thought. Why, then, wouldn’t he simply date somebody else at the same time? If Alec never found out, it wouldn’t hurt him; Magnus could have Alec and anyone else he wanted.

Magnus was bright and beautiful and so much more than Alec deserved. It only made sense that he needed more than just Alec to be properly happy. It was reasonable. It explained everything.

Alec lowered his head on his desk and cried.

He tried to work, but he couldn’t.

Tears were blurring his eyes no matter how often he wiped them away, and his head was spinning with thoughts and worries and wonderings, and his heart ached far more than it ought, seeing as he should’ve known this would happen.

There were reports to do and supply requisitions to file and patrol schedules to organise but Alec couldn’t do it, couldn’t bury himself in work and forget the pain. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t think; his world had slid sideways and he was still adjusting, still unable to comprehend the shift, still struggling with the weight of the emptiness that had descended on him.

It should not have been so unexpected. He should have known. He should have guessed. He should have braced himself for it. He should be able to overcome the heartache, the idiotic heartache because hadn’t he just figured out that Magnus still loved him? He shouldn’t be feeling so upset about this revelation that should have been known already.

His failure to do what he should was just another weakness, just another fault in him that he should be able to fix but somehow couldn’t. Just another gaping hole. What’s one more?

Still, despite all he should be doing, he was not, and sitting in his office crying like a child was unproductive. He’d train; training helped, training would push back the heartache to a manageable level.

Izzy and Jace were waiting in his room when he got there to change, sitting on his bed, Jace’s hand pressed to his parabatai rune. Alec realised that he’d forgotten to mute it, and did so; some of the tension leaked from Jace’s shoulders, although Jace himself didn’t seem to consciously notice.

“I’m so sorry, Alec,” Izzy said, standing up as he entered. “I — I hate that I had to tell you this, but you had to know—”

She was crying, and Alec hugged her instinctively. “It’s alright, Izzy-belle. I don’t blame you for this.”

Comforting her was easier than thinking about himself.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, either,” Jace said quietly. “The only one at fault here is Magnus.”

Alec flinched at the name, at the anger clear in Jace’s tone. “No. It’s not his fault. I’m just not enough for him.”

Jace’s face creased with sympathetic pain. “Alec…”

Hesitantly, Izzy put an arm around his shoulders and guided him down to sit beside her on the bed. “It’ll be okay, Alec.”

The reassurance was hollow, but Alec nodded anyway.

She paused again, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she did when she had something to say but wasn’t sure if she should say it. Alec remained silent to let her decide, and eventually, she spoke up. “It’s — you’re so different, Alec, maybe it just… wasn’t meant to be.”

Alec carefully suppressed a flinch. She took his silence as an invitation to continue. “Magnus, he’s — he likes dancing and partying and sex, and you — you don’t, and any relationship like that… it wouldn’t really work out, long-term, you know?” She glanced up at him, comfortingly.

She was trying to be kind, to tell him that he shouldn’t feel bad because their love had only ever been temporary, lasting only until Magnus grew bored and needed somebody more interesting. She wasn’t wrong, but the words still cut like knives. Alec had hoped their love had been stronger than that, hoped Magnus loved him because of their differences not in spite of them. He knew those hopes had been foolish, but it hurt to know that she’d always thought their relationship doomed — that she’d always known he could never be enough. It hurt more than he’d thought he could hurt, anymore.

Jace sat down on Alec’s other side, putting an arm around his shoulders to echo Izzy. The two of them had little practice in comforting Alec; he was their older brother, he was supposed to comfort them, and their attempts left Alec’s heart as aching and empty as before.

He wanted Magnus to hold him, to comfort him, to whisper words of love in his ears, but Magnus wouldn’t want to be saddled with Alec’s heartache, even if he’d been in New York. As it was, Magnus was at the Spiral Labyrinth — unless, Alec realised with an unpleasant lurch, he wasn’t.

All the time Magnus had been spending working on his new invention. The two or three days he’d be away for the Council meeting. Had that been a lie, too? Had Magnus spent all that time with his other lover, with whoever it was he’d found to fill the gaps that Alec couldn’t? Was he off somewhere with them, enjoying the break from Alec’s presence—

He wrenched his thoughts away, back to the present moment. The topic had changed while he’d been off in his own head; Jace was speaking. “I knew he was a bit of a playboy, but I thought maybe his reputation was unwarranted. I should’ve guessed he’d cheat.”

It was clear who Jace meant by “him”. “Don’t say that,” Alec said tiredly.

“Why not?” Jace was standing again, fists clenched, righteous fury on his face.

“He’s not at fault here,” Alec tried to explain.

“He cheated on you,” Jace hissed. “I thought he’d at least have the courage to say it to your face.”

Alec pushed down the ache at the realisation that Jace, too, had always expected their relationship to end in heartbreak. “He’s trying to be kind, Jace.”

“I don’t see how,” Jace said mutinously.

“You don’t need to,” Alec snapped. “Don’t cause an incident by attacking or insulting him. That’s an order from your Head.”

Jace subsided with a sigh, but Alec was already climbing to his feet, shaking off Izzy’s touch. He’d planned to train; that was productive, that would help him get his head back on straight and bury the pointless heartache. Listening to his siblings’ attempts at comfort wasn’t helping anything.

Training didn’t help.

It had always been Alec’s reprieve, the way to beat back the demons in his mind that made confusion rise and blocked out clear thought. Physical pain pushed away mental pain; that had been the way Alec had lived for two decades.

But then he’d met Magnus, and Magnus had showed him another way — had helped him deal with the ache rather than shoving it down, helped him loosen the knot in his chest in his stomach in his head rather than tightening it and pushing it away.

He couldn’t push away this.

Idiot, he told himself, weak, desperate, needy. But none of it helped, none of it allowed him to strengthen himself against the ache. He was falling apart and he couldn’t hold himself together. He was falling apart for no reason because he should have known all this anyway, but the confirmation had somehow shattered him into useless bits and pieces that couldn’t cohere into rational thought.

Every time his fists landed on the punching bag, every time he released an arrow at a target, the broken bits of him fell apart further, rather than compacting together again. He was brittle and he was cracking under pressure rather than merging into something stronger.

He stopped before blood welled on his hands, because that would only make him think of Magnus, and thinking of Magnus was why he was falling apart in the first place.

Alec didn’t sleep that night, but spent the time struggling to focus, struggling to hold in his hurt. Rather than working, he ended up thinking, and that was unproductive but inevitable.

What should he do, when Magnus returned? Tell him that he knew? Offer to divorce him? Pretend nothing had happened?

Magnus wasn’t at fault here, and he didn’t deserve to be hurt because Alec had been foolish enough to think they could have a future together. Alec didn’t want to confront him, to be angry; there was nothing to be angry about, nobody to rage at but his own stupid self. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. It was weak and unworthy of him, but he couldn’t bear to look at Magnus and imagine that Magnus wanted him and only him when he knew that was false. If he did that, he’d be able to convince himself that nothing had happened, perhaps hours of letting himself believe the lie, and he couldn’t bear to have his dreams shattered again. He couldn’t.

Which meant he had to tell Magnus that he knew, as soon as Magnus got back. Magnus hadn’t divorced him, hadn’t said anything about wanting to divorce him; he might still want Alec, although he wanted more than that as well. If Magnus wanted Alec to stay, Alec would stay, and he would go on loving Magnus with all that he was regardless of what Magnus did.

Or, if Magnus was really just waiting for a chance to leave Alec, then Alec would let him leave, let him find somebody who deserved the gift of his love.

Either way, Alec would need to learn to live with the pain.

The whole Institute knew something was wrong, but Alec had asked Izzy and Jace not to talk about it, and he trusted they’d do as he asked. Nobody needed to know what was going on; they’d misunderstand the situation, like Jace had, try to blame Magnus for something that wasn’t his fault.

So Alec did his best to pretend that nothing was wrong. (Nothing was wrong; this was only a reminder of what he should have known, he told himself, again and again and again.) He’d lived for years without Magnus in his life; this wasn’t any worse than that.

Except that it was worse, because he hadn’t known what he’d been missing, and now that knowledge sat inside of him like a dream of light that he could never touch.

Alec pushed the thought away. He had only a day or two until Magnus returned; he needed to pull himself into the shape of a functioning human being by then.

He still hadn’t succeeded when, in the afternoon of the next day, his phone chimed with Magnus’ text tone.

Magnus <3: i have returned from the hell that is a meeting with millenia-old warlocks !!! 🎉🎉🎉

Magnus <3: i am starved of your presence and require kisses 😘😘😘

Alec stared down at the incongruously cheerful, loving text, and willed himself to stay calm. He needed to talk to Magnus; sooner was better than later.

Alec: omw

The door of the loft swung open at his approach as it always did, and Alec somehow managed to summon a smile as he stepped through it into the familiar surroundings of the loft.

Magnus was waiting for him with a beam, and Alec found himself immediately pulled into a tight hug. For a moment, he breathed in Magnus’ familiar scent, let himself relax in Magnus’ arms as he hadn’t in days.

But then Magnus pulled back, a frown appearing on his face. “Alec? Is something wrong?”

Of course he’d noticed — he always noticed when Alec was upset, even when Alec tried to hide it.

Alec opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating, and Magnus made a soft, worried noise; Alec realised that he was crying again, tears welling up and rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said, before Magnus could ask what was wrong again in that voice that sounded like he cared. “I’m sorry I’m not enough for you, I’m sorry for always being so boring, I’m sorry for making you do boring stuff too.” Magnus was shaking his head, about to say something else, but Alec cut him off through the stream of tears that blurred Magnus’ face. “I’m — I know I’m not enough for you, I’m so sorry for that, I’m sorry for — for being so upset, I know I shouldn’t be—”

“Alexander,” Magnus breathed, voice desperate, eyes flicking worriedly over Alec’s face, “Alexander, you’re always enough for me, I don’t understand—”

“Izzy and Jace heard you having sex with somebody else while I was at the Institute,” Alec said, trying to keep his voice steady. It cracked anyway, and he had to choke back a sob so that he could go on. “And I don’t — I get that I’m not enough for you, I know that, it’s okay, I’m sorry for crying all over you, I didn’t mean to, I just—”

“Alec—”

“I was just upset for no reason, but it’s fine, I know I’m not enough for you, you deserve better, if you’re getting that from whoever they are then I’m fine with that, I swear, I understand, it makes sense, I’m not going to force you to let go of them if you don’t want to—”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, eyes wide but firmness in his tone. “I would never, have never, and will never cheat on you. Ever.”

“But they — they said they heard you, the morning you left for the Spiral Labyrinth—”

Magnus frowned, brow creasing for a moment, and then it cleared. “Alec, I was working on the potion. They must’ve overheard me and misinterpreted it. I swear, Alec, I would never do that to you.”

“Oh,” Alec said, and then the tears poured faster down his face in mixed relief and terror and lingering heartache and he was sobbing into Magnus’ shirt, arms wrapped around his husband, holding him as close as he could because even if Magnus did eventually get tired of Alec, he hadn’t done so yet. Not yet. He hadn’t cheated, hadn’t needed somebody else.

Magnus’ arms were wrapped around him, and he was guiding the two of them to the couch, curling protectively around Alec as Alec cried on his shoulder, ugly and messy and desperate.

“I’m right here,” Magnus murmured. “I’m not leaving you, I’m never leaving you, sayang, not ever, I promise. I love you, Alexander. You’re enough for me, you’re always enough, you’re all I ever need, love.” The reassurances washed over Alec in waves of warmth and comfort, and he kept his hands fisted in Magnus’ shirt, clinging too tightly but Magnus didn’t seem to mind.

He cried himself out, eventually, buried in Magnus’ arms, and he was only vaguely aware of Magnus carrying him into their bed. He fell asleep like that, still holding Magnus like a lifeline, and if Magnus left while he was asleep, he came back and resumed the same position before Alec awoke.

Alec’s throat was dry and scratchy, and one night of sleep couldn’t cancel out the thirty-six sleepless hours he’d spent beforehand, but Magnus was holding him like he was the most important thing in the world to him, and nothing else really mattered. He nuzzled in even closer to Magnus, losing himself in the light of his presence and the warmth of his hold.

“Sayang,” Magnus murmured, fingers moving to run through Alec’s hair. “You’re awake?”

Alec hummed in response.

“We do need to talk about this, love,” Magnus said quietly.

That was unfortunate. Alec blinked open his eyes to meet Magnus’ unglamoured ones. “Do we have to? I was wrong, I was an idiot, but everything’s fine now.”

“Is it?” Magnus asked, meeting his eyes. “When you thought I was cheating, your reaction was to apologise for not being enough for me.”

Alec looked away first. “It’s fine. You’re not cheating on me, so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Magnus said, running his fingers through Alec’s hair. “You need to understand, Alexander, that I am not going to get tired of you, or leave you, or think you’re not enough. Not ever, love. You are all I want.”

“I…” Alec trailed off, caught between denial and a longing for the promise in those words, the oath on Magnus’ tongue. “I can’t ask you to promise that,” he said weakly.

“You can,” Magnus told him. “You can. Ask me, love.”

“Promise me,” Alec blurted out, the words tumbling past his lips. “Promise me you’ll stay, Magnus, promise me, I couldn’t bear it if you—”

Magnus kissed him, his lips, his cheeks, his forehead. “I’ll stay, sayang. I’ll stay as long as you want me, because I’ll never stop wanting you, I’ll never need more than you. I’ll stay.”

Alec wrapped his arms around him with a half-sob and pulled him closer, trying to breathe through the love rising in him, because he could hear the certainty ringing in Magnus’ voice, the love he didn’t deserve but had received. He might not understand why Magnus loved him, but Magnus did love him, and that was everything.

Magnus held Alec as he drifted off to sleep again, running his fingers through his husband’s hair soothingly.

Anger was burning under his skin at everyone who’d hurt Alec: his parents, who’d first told him he wasn’t perfect exactly as he was; his siblings, who’d supported the lesson, and then told Alec about Magnus’ supposed cheating rather than confronting Magnus himself about it. He would certainly be having a conversation with them — Magnus might have been more generous with them, but Alec had spent two days convinced Magnus didn’t love him above all else, and then he’d spent hours sobbing into Magnus’ chest from the pent-up heartbreak of it all.

But talking to Alec’s siblings could wait, because Izzy and Jace were far from the most important thing.

All that mattered right then was holding Alec close until the terrible pain faded from his features and he could properly believe in Magnus’ love.

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

----------------------

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Mace Windu #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Jedha #Jedi #Phoenix Posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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twistedcharismaaa · 3 years ago

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The Red Door Pt. 10

Summary: You and Erik have a lot of shared history together but because of recent events you’re scared that you’re going to lose your best friend. Maybe he’s still there … behind that red door?

Author’s Note: Hey guyssss! I hope all is well and Happy New Year’s! I hope that the new year has been kind to you all thus far! I know it’s been forever and a day since I’ve updated for this story! I do suggest re-reading chapter 9 for a refesher! I hope that you all enjoy! Please leave a comment for ya girl! You know I live for the commentary! I love you guysss! Enjoy!

Stunning women surrounding you, beautiful God-crafted bodies, elegant, and appeasing to any and every eye. You never felt closer to heaven quietly admiring their long legs and how they seemed to spread across the seven seas with ease. Their feet resting on towers dancing through green pastures as they allured their audience to a higher fantasy. It was like living in the most vivid dream - the flashes of blue, purple, and pink shimmering off of umber skin was utterly spellbinding. As you looked up you noticed glitter-painted bodies hanging from the ceiling like chandeliers quietly blessing their onlookers with their stardust. On the dance floor, below you, you noticed bodies moving as one. Their palms were floating in the air like clouds as they freed their inhibitions. You didn’t know if it was the heavy bassline, the flashing lights, or the liquid courage that rested in your palm but, you wanted nothing more than to be down there.

—-

(Back at John’s Mansion)

Erik sniffed aggressively and adjusted his posture as he watched John grieve over Tyrus’ lifeless body. He felt a rush of emotions storm towards him like an animalistic stampede. His palms became sweaty, his stomach was unsettled, and his breathing was uneven. He glared at Marley’s text and then back at John.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

He felt the very walls of time closing in on him. Out of frustration, he paced back and forth sporadically before exiting the bedroom. He jogged down the stairs as he fidgeted with his pockets searching for his car keys.

“Fuck! Where they at?” he groaned.

He felt his chest tightening by the very second as he continued to pat his legs and thighs for his keys. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to focus. He pictured the keys in his mind for a brief moment and suddenly he knew exactly where they were. They were on the floor underneath the couch. He must’ve knocked the keys off the coffee table when he rushed to John’s aid. He crouched down towards the floor, reached underneath the couch, and retrieved his keys. Erik sprinted out the door with a mind full of regrets. He regretted so much - but his most potent regret was not killing Giselle when he had the chance. Because of him, Marley’s life was in danger.

—

Giselle rubbed her lips together slowly evening her lipstick with each stroke. Her long blond braids hung lowly by her hips and swayed casually with her every movement. She entered the roaring club with grace quietly scoping the crowd in search of you. She traveled through a sea of drunken bodies until she stumbled into you. A loving smile appeared on her lips at the sight of you. She embraced you tenderly and placed her hands on your shoulders as the hug came to a mutual end. Her gaze on you felt heavy and bizarre. It felt as if she was looking into you or maybe through you.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Giselle admitted.

“Well... It didn’t seem like I had much of a choice,” you joked somewhat.

“C’mon let’s dance,” she suggested as she slid her hands into yours.

Giselle could read your aura like an open book. She could feel that you were nervous and suspicious of her intentions and little did you know, you had every right to be. Tonight is the night the curtain will be viciously unveiled and all will be revealed under your hand. You were more than the bait you were the key. But, she needed to feel a sense of trust to cast the perfect spell and she knew exactly how to do it.

Hesitantly, you nodded in agreement and followed Giselle down the stairs onto the thriving dance floor. Still palm in palm, she lifted both of your hands towards the ceiling as she swayed her hips to the loud currents of the bass. With a raised brow, you followed her lead. Slowly, you rocked from side to side in unison with Giselle.

“That’s it,” she encouraged sweetly.

You smiled a small smile before speaking.

“I invited a friend. I don’t know if he’s coming or not. I hope that was ok,” you confessed.

“The more the merrier,” she responded, before twirling you like a carousel.

The moment she released you, you fell into the arms of handsome stranger that Giselle conjured. He smiled at you flirtatously as he held onto you allowing you to gain your balance.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you looked into his alluring brown eyes.

His bottom teeth were dipped in gold, his lips were full, and his skin was sun-kissed to perfection. He was everything Giselle intended for him to be. He radiated a certain suaveness that could not be practiced. The smell of him was nearly intoxicating and you reveled in the way he looked at you. He gazed in your eyes as if you were the only thing that mattered.

“Don’t be,” he answered.

You felt his hands trickle down your arms like a soft rain. He interlocked his fingers with yours before placing your hands around his neck. Timidly, you danced with him. Before you knew it, the music overtook you. Effortlessly, you moved your body like water traveling down a rockless stream.

Giselle watched from afar with great satisfaction. She felt the connection between the both of you growing stronger by the minute.

“Ah, there it was. Trust,” she whispered to herself.

The moment she felt trust beaming from you she acted fast. Unknowingly to you, Giselle approached you from behind and placed both of her hands around the circumference of your head. She chanted the ancient tongues repeatedly before pressing her fingers tips on your temples. The moment she touched you, your eyes grew wide and mouth fell open. It seemed as if the world was fading before your very eyes. The man that was once holding you vanished, the music grew quiet, and drunken bodies that surrounded you were no more.

You found yourself standing barefoot in front of a giant oak tree.

“Where am I?! Giselle? Hello?” you shouted, as you looked around completely terrified.

“You are at the origin of time,” the tree spoke.

Slowly, you backed away from the tree with rapid breath and shaky hands. As soon as you turned you back to the tree, in hopes of running away, you were anointed with a fallen leaf.

Giselle remained with your physical body to protect it. To the average eye, you were dancing the night away with love of your life. But in actuality, your mind was transported to the Great Mother.

Erik entered the club with haste. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose quietly concentrating. “There it was that familiar smell,” he thought. He knew that a witch was among him and he knew for a fact that it was Giselle. Following the trail of that aroma led him right to her. From behind, he pulled her by the braids and placed a knife to her neck.

“Release her!” He demanded.

Giselle giggled and moaned under his touch clearly teasing him.

“You remembered my kinks I see,” she responded.

Tightening his grip around her neck, Erik spoke again.

“I’m not playing with you! Release her now b-”

“You mind your tongue, you are in the presence of witches. Choose your words carefully my dear,”

Marie interjected as she approached Erik and Giselle. With a wave of her hand, she emptied the club. She sent every vessel that occupied the club to their humble abodes. Only Marley, Giselle, and Erik remained.

“Marie,” Erik spat.

“Hello, Erik,” she smiled cunningly.

—----

Part 9

@ghostfacekill-monger @l-auteuse @essaysbyciara @blackmissfrizzle @shookmcgookqueen @tyees @jozigrrl @nelleana @doublesidedscoobysnacks @lostennyc @chaneajoyyy @fd-writes @yoyolovesbucky @alexundefined @lovesunnyandmary @itsqu33n @ohgreedyme @sociallyawkward18 @sarcastic-sunshines @shalynn-m @mygirlrenee @cyntgefel01 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @soufcakmistress @blackpinup22 @theycallmechanty @zeckharyah @xxariaxxaxx @imagine-mbaku @acelovestoread @id-rather-be-an-outsider @childishgambinaax @neeville @stillearningmyself @brwn-recluse @miyahmaraj @savagescorpion @blackburnbook @isisafrofairy @lishabaybee @just-peachee @spacedout-chick @quietstorm-73 @honeytoffee @ambthegamer @raysunshine78 @catxo @rolemodelshit @tip222u @wireydiary

#Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #Erik Stevens x oc #erik x black!reader #Marie Laveau #angela bassett #beyonce giselle knowles #michael b jordan #adonis creed #black panther #american horror story #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black!oc #beyoncé

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taestefully-in-luv · 4 years ago

Text

Always You | JJK (Five)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?) sad oc, mentions of sex, kind of over the clothes action, drama, heated dance session lol, slight memory of sex, hair pulling, back scratching, mention of boner, second chances (?)

Notes: Okay, first of all THAT 1st TEASER PIC!!! DID WE SEE THAT? *chefs kiss*. Anyway thanks for comments you guys leave I really love reading them!!! Remember to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) have a great week everyone!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch

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May

Gloomy: The dictionary may describe it as hopeless and despairing but really it should just be a picture of your sad, sad face.

1 month…yes, one whole month has passed since you last spoke to Jungkook. No text, no calls, no random show ups, nothing. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Graduation came and gone so quickly…you walked the stage with your friends minus two but honestly you can hardly remember the event. You tried your hardest to be as excited as everyone else but the feeling of gloom stayed with you.

By the end of the month you finally started accepting he isn’t coming back and right around that time you actually heard from him—Jungkook that is. He sent you a pathetic text that he’s moving out and will be by to retrieve his things. More gloom.

The next couple weeks after that are a blur, you recall the sound of movers throughout your apartment. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him…you didn’t have the courage to even leave your room if you didn’t have to. You were so wrapped up in everything you didn’t even consider that fact that you will have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent.

Every day just dragged on, every day a repeat of the last. Wake up, drown in black coffee, scroll mindlessly through your phone and work your full time job. You called in sick too many days already so you have to go or you’re at risk at getting fired. The same day, every day. The same gloomy fucking day.

Jimin tried to call or text every day to make sure you were like, alive. He apologized over and over for not telling you as soon as he found out about the Taehyung situation but he felt that if Taehyung was going to tell you then it is best it comes from him and not Jimin. You can understand that. He also frequently would show up at your apartment to surprise you but you rarely let him in. You did feel bad though, he’s just trying to be there for you.

Jimin 6:04pm

Please let me in?

Jimin 6:05pm

Well…I have some take out for you babe, ill leave it on the doorstep.

Jimin 6:05pm

Call me sometime ok? Love you

Guilt would consume your body but you just couldn’t deal with human contact right now.

June

Around month 2 you finally felt okay to see people again—your close people that is—aka Jimin was finally allowed in, he made you take a hot bath while he cleaned up for you and made you a proper meal. The amount of instant ramen containers lying around the place was by far one of the grossest things he’s seen. The shit that was growing…he shudders just thinking about it.

He would come over every day after work in the evenings. He left day time babysitting to Trina.

“Girl…all this over a boy?” she would constantly say.

You also tried applying for job after job, but the postgraduation life is harder than you thought…at least for you. Jimin landed a job as a kids choreographer, Trina starts up at one of the local elementary schools as a kindergartner teacher and you? You’re still working at the bakery down the street. You applied for many entry level positions in the marketing field but failed miserably in interviews…which only further discouraged you and worsened your mood.

It was also around this time you decided to finally delete Jungkook off all social media and block his number. You refuse to hear from him at this point…not that he was reaching out or anything. You wonder what he’s up to postgraduation? No, you don’t want to know or care. You considered hanging up a picture of his face on your wall so you could throw darts at it but you decided that was maybe on the crazy side. Taehyung sends you weekly texts, asking about how your day/week is going. He updates you on his life as well, apparently he got the curator assistant position at the museum that he wanted. You still feel hurt over everything but you are happy for him. It’s funny, you feel so betrayed over that but Jungkook is the cause of your gloom.

Every day just drags on, you feel heavy everywhere you go. Even when you’re just at home in bed.

By the end of the month your friends somehow convinced you to go on a date—a horrible date at that.

He was awkward as hell, a bad kisser and would lightly…tap your ass in attempt to be sexy. It was a disaster, you don’t even remember what the two of you even talked about at dinner. You just remember his tongue being horribly shoved down your throat and his weird ass tapping habit.

July

Then month 3 finally came around. A month where the weeks went by breathing became just a bit easier. Yes, any and everything still reminded you of Jungkook but it didn’t hurt as terribly as the previous months. By the end of the month you even agreed to your first real social outing. You are hesitant, but you agreed…

“I don’t know guys…a birthday party? We like, don’t even know the girl?” you frown, nibbling on the flesh of your bottom lip.

You are sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, clothes piling all around you as you try to decide on what to wear.

“You need to get out babe…plus it’s a friend of a friend, so it’s cool.” Jimin says holding up a rose colored crop top, motioning for you to nod yes or no to his suggestion. You cock your head to the side, deciding what pants to go with it.

“I have to say I agree with Jimin, y/n.” your new roommate Holly chips in, “Since I’ve moved in I don’t think I’ve seen you go out even once.”

“Also a party is the best place to find some easy dick.” Of course that’s what Trina has to offer.

“Yes to the crop top Jimin.” You point your head towards the shirt, “Okay don’t have to call me out like that Holly.” You glare at your roomie, “And Trina, we both know I ain’t ready for no type of dick.”

“So we’re looking for some pussy tonight?” Trina smirks, “Nice.”

You rolls your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips, “Shut up.” you throw a pair of shorts at her face.

“But seriously y/n…Maybe Trina is on to something…” Jimin sits down next to you, crossing his legs in front of him, “Maybe this is a good chance to like—”

“If you say move on I will literally kill you.” You cut in, “There’s nothing to move on from!” you throw your hands up dramatically. “Taehyung used me, Jungkook wants nothing to do with me. And—”

“Then why aren’t you ready for any type of dick?” Holly puts in her 2 fucking cents.

“Because I don’t want to be associated with any boys! Jimin is the exception.”

“Somehow I don’t feel flattered by that…” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder.

“When’s the last time you got off?” Trina abruptly asks. You turn your head in shock at her shamelessness.

“Trina!”

“Answer her, I’m curious too.” Jimin squints at you trying not to laugh.

“It’s…” your eyes slide to the side, “It’s been a while.”

Trina shakes her in disapproval, “Damn girl, really? My fingers constantly playing DJ, you know what I’m sayin?” Trina goes in for a fist bump but you just push her hand away.

“You’re gross.” You laugh out loud, and it sounds like music to everyone’s ears.

“I’m just real babey.” She flicks her hair back with a proud smile on her face.

Having these 3 around has no doubt helped you deal with the loss you feel. You feel like you are still mourning the dead. How’s Jungkook even doing? You’re too afraid to ask Jimin. Too afraid that he’s doing amazing without you. He must of realized how much better off he is without you around and that makes you feel small.

“Fine…” you mutter under your breath…Jimin snaps his head to look at you, his sly smile growing as he watches you fiddle with a short mini skirt.

“Fine what?” Trina asks with a smirk.

“Let’s find me some dick tonight.”

“Hell fucking yeah.” Jimin claps his hands together, “Tonight is about you!”

“y/n makes her debut tonight! She’s hot, she’s single and she is ready to mingle!”

You can’t help but giggle, your hands bunching up the material of the mini skirt as you look down at it, making your decision.

“Let me get ready and we can get this night started!” you rush to your feet, all the sudden feeling excited for tonight. You are going to actually do your hair and your makeup—you even shaved. You are definitely breathing easier tonight and you have to take advantage of that!

“Let’s do shots as we wait girlies,” Holly shows a bottle of rum she had hiding behind her back, shaking it in excitement.

“Naughty girl.” Jimin winks, standing to his feet, heading towards the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.

You get ready quickly, but taking your time where it counts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and you have to say you are impressed. Your black jean mini skirt sits right below your ass, while your tits pop in this rose crop top. You wear short heels, and simple jewelry with just the right amount of makeup that makes your features stand out, and you have to say you would kiss yourself if you could—you look fucking good.

“woooooo” Jimin and Trina whistle out at the same time as they walk back in your bedroom.

“I’d fuck.” Jimin says plainly.

“Same as fuck.” Trina says bluntly as she swallows down a shot.

“Yeah you look pretty y/n!” Holly smiles, not really on the same level of honestly as your other two friends.

You burst into giggles, throwing your head back in approval. “Thanks guys…..Lets fucking do this.” You walk towards Trina and grab her shot glass, and you take the bottle from Holly, pouring yourself a shot.

“Ready to fucking mingle.” You gulp down the rum, the burn only encouraging you, the warmth stinging your entire chest and you couldn’t feel more content.

This house was one of the bigger ones, it was full of people and more people and like, more people. You managed to swallow down 3 or 4 shots back at your apartment and the alcohol is definitely working its magic on you, the world just a little nicer.

The amount of people doesn’t even bother you like it usually would, instead you find yourself barging through the front door and making your way to the dance floor with your 3 friends trialing behind you.

The heat of the living room is already intoxicating you, the amount of bodies rolling and grinding makes you feel loose and free. Before you know it Jimin is pushing a drink into your hands and you hug him gratefully as you begin chugging it back.

“Woah slow down, we have all night—actually fuck it, I like your spirit tonight!” he chuckles lightly, his hands going to your waist, rocking you to the beat of the blaring music. Trina and Holly disappear into the kitchen to grab more drinks while you and Jimin dance to whatever b…t…ah, forget it, you forgot the band’s name.

“Are you having fun?” Jimin slurs out, his eyes barely visible as he laughs at nothing.

“So much fun!” you yell out over the music then you lean down into his ear and whisper, “Thanks so much Jiminie…I know I was a little difficult…”

“A little?” he teases.

Jimin’s eyes travel behind you before they are widening. You notice, of course. You are about to turn your head to take a look at whatever he is seeing when his snaps back to you in panic, his troubled smile growing.

“Let’s go find Trina and Holly, yeah?” he tries to usher you toward the kitchen and you oblige. Too drunk and feeling too good that his odd behavior goes ignored by you.

“Kay!” you smile, hooking your arm with his. “Letsa go!” you say like you’re fucking Mario.

The two of you walk to the kitchen, finding Trina and Holly playing a game of beer pong with two random guys.

“Hello my bitches!” Trina hollers over the thumping bass, as she scores a cup of pong, her other hand on Hollys lower back.

“Wait, gotta use the bathroom, be right back!” you slur into Jimin’s ear, he just nods distractedly as he watches the game, laughter erupting his body for probably no drunken reason.

You walk back into the living room and start heading towards the other side where the bathroom is. The journey to the bathroom is fun, you accidently bump into a lot of people but they don’t seem to mind as they will just drunkenly smile at you and you would smile back in your own drunken daze. You skim the room with a dopey smile on your face, just admiring the crowd. You are shocked with yourself…you missed people and you cannot believe it. You continue to observe when your eyes land on tattooed hands. The hands are grabbing a handful of ass on the dance floor. You know these hands. Your eyes travel from his hands to his strong arms to his face…it is hiding in the nook of some girls neck and you feel like someone knocked the wind out of you. Jungkook.

He is kissing on some girl, no doubt leaving bruises behind from his attack on her neck. His hands cupping this girls ass so tightly, he guides her hips into his. You watch as she throws her head back in pleasure and you see him smirk. All his signature moves. You are left speechless. What could you even say? Why does this hurt? Why does this make you feel fucking sick? Why does it feel like you aren’t supposed to be witnessing this? Well, you know why but god, why?!

“y/n!!” It’s Jimin, jogging up behind you, “Fuck, I was trying to avoid you seeing this…” he admit softly, “I swear I didn’t think he was going to be here tonight…he didn’t seem that interested when I asked him about it…”

“It’s fine Jimin…” you mumble.

“Does it feel weird? Seeing him with this girl…?” Jimin is obviously trying to get you to admit something right now but you are not in the right head space to even give it a second thought.

“Why should it? Plus I’m used to this…she’s just some random girl for one night.” You twirl the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“Oh babe…” Jimin glances down at the ground, “This girl…she…he’s brought her to every party for the last month…” Jimin sounds as sorry as you feel.

The same girl? That’s impossible, you scoff. There’s no way Jungkook is actually seeing someone. But that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting and turning and making you feel fucking sick.

“What do you mean?” you finally slur out, leaning your frame on Jimin.

“He brings her and they leave together too…” Jimin holds on to you, “I haven’t really asked him about her though.”

“Whatever. Fuck him, right? I won’t let this ruin my night.” You smile coyly, draping your arms around your friend. “Bathroom please.” You pout theatrically, pointing your head towards the bathroom.

“Okay let’s get you peeing in peace.” Jimin laughs, guiding you towards the door.

Once at the door, you knock a couple times to find that it is empty, “I’ll wait for you out here.” Jimin assures you.

Once inside the small room, you bunch up your skirt and pull down your panties, squatting on the toilet. You sigh in relief as you pee, but the relief you feel in your body stops when you recall the way Jungkook held and kissed this random but not so random girl.

Why should it bother you? It’s about time Jungkook got serious! But why did he have to dump you to achieve that? And why did It have to be with someone el…

You reach for the toilet paper, ripping it after a few sheets and wipe yourself as you drunkenly sing a tune. So what? You can easily replace Jungkook too!

You stand up, pulling your panties up and your skirt down and take a long good look in the mirror. Your hair is still intact, your makeup is only a little smeared—quick fix, and your tits are still poppin’. This night is just beginning, you decide. A whole new wave of confidence begins washing over you.

“Ready!” You pounce on Jimin’s back, he stumbles forward while laughing wholeheartedly.

“Should we look for Trina and Holly again? They’re probably still playing beer pong!”

“Sure.” You smile, walking hand in hand with Jimin as you make your way back to the kitchen.

Hours pass and you are now outside on the back porch piss drunk with your 3 friends and a couple new friends. Nick and his pal that you can’t remember the name of—but you remember Nick. He’s really tall and has nice muscles covering his body, his light hair is messy and looks like you would have fun pulling it.

“And that’s why I think aliens are already here bro, like they are probably here at this fucking party bro.” No name friend finishes his point. Nick holds in his chuckle as his drunk friend rambles.

“Totally bro.” Then his eyes land on you. Fuck, were you staring? Oh well, it’s best to get to the point. You two have been making eyes at each other all night and it’s time to make the next move.

“Hey Nick, wanna grab a drink with me in the kitchen?” you inquire with a sly smile.

Jimin’s eyes widen before he’s smirking “Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.”

Trina and Holly laugh at Jimin’s words while you turn fucking red with embarrassment.

“Sorry about him…” You excuse Jimin, but you continue to smile slyly.

Nick grins with all his teeth as he takes your hand and leads you back inside the house. His hand is much larger than yours and you are already imagining what his beefy fingers will do to your vagina. God, what’s his dick like???

You enter the kitchen and you and him walk towards the cooler full of beers, he lets you stand to the side as he goes to grab them.

“Nick!!!!” you hear a familiar voice and you wince. Jungkook stands next to the cooler, his hand wrapped around the girls hand, but he briefly lets go of it to dap up your fuck for the night.

“What’s up bro!” Nick returns the handshake, a wide smile on his face.

They know each other?

“I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight?” Jungkook’s hand goes back to holding on to the girl.

“I wasn’t going to but,” he nods towards you, “Glad I did.” He winks. Jungkook’s eyes follow Nicks nod and when he sees you stand there awkwardly he goes completely pale. Your eyes meet uncomfortably, Jungkook let’s go of the girls hand without a second thought.

“y/n?” he questions with a pained expression.

“You know her?” Nick asks, totally out of the loop.

You shift from one foot to the other, not really sure what to do or say. So you settle for his name. “Jungkook.” It feels foreign on your tongue. Like if you said it 3 times in a mirror a sinister ghost would come to murder you.

Jungkook opens his mouth then closes it then opens it then closes it again.

“Baaaaabe,” the girl next to him whines, “let’s get out of here already.” She says, not even acknowledging your existence.

Jungkook shamelessly eyes you up and down, his shock is very evident as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile a little, knowing you look damn good.

“Let’s go too, Nick.” You saunter to his side, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

That’s when Jungkook knocks out of daze, his brows crease as he looks between the two of you.

“Wait—you and Nick?” he asks, completely amused.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” Jungkook looks fucking smug as he smiles, his hand going to grab the girls hand again. “See you later?” he asks you. You of all people! “Uh? Probably not?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Jungkook winks, turning around to leave as he leads his girl out.

Nick just continues to smile, completely oblivious, “So cool that we all know each other!” he grips on to your waist.

“Wait, how do you know Jungkook?”

“We—”

“Wait, it honestly doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“My place?” Nick breathes into your ear, he pushes your hips into his crotch so you can feel his half hard cock.

“Why are you already getting hard?” you tease, leaning up to kiss his neck.

“Honestly, I can’t stop staring at your tits. And I am imagining all the things I want to do to them.” He confesses hotly.

The uber ride to his place is short, only 10 minutes and it goes by quickly as you two have one another’s tongues down each others throats. His hands traveling all around your body, he even manages to slip his fingers past your panties to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck I can’t wait to get you inside…” his rapid breaths fan across your face as you nibble on his neck.

“Gonna fuck me?” you whisper quietly, not trying to get heard by the Uber driver, but you could also hardly care if he hears you or not, he gets 5 stars.

“Want you to ride me.” He palms his cock through his pants as he imagines you bouncing on his cock for him.

“If you deserve it like a good boy.” You replace his hand with your own, rubbing him ferociously over his jeans. You haven’t felt dick in months and the feeling is driving you absolutely wild, you haven’t felt this needy in a long time.

The Uber comes to a stop, parking in front of an apartment building. He lets the two of you know you reached your destination. You and Nick giggle as you thank him and stumble out of the car as you follow him to his apartment. He would stop every few seconds to plant kisses on your lips and grab your ass with a tight squeeze. He groans and rolls his eyes back as he explores your body.

“Wait til we’re inside,” you breathe out, your voice silky as hell.

Finally, after a short, kiss filled elevator ride later you arrive at his front door. His lips never leaving yours as he pulls out his keys, fumbling with them until he finds the right one.

He pulls away for a second to unlock the door and desperately pushes it open to let the two of you inside. Your lips are already back on his as you two trip into the entry way of the apartment, you walk him backwards, until his back is against a wall.

The apartment is dark besides the living room TV, you take a second to pull back and admire Nick’s fucked out expression, the blue glow of the TV making everything feel surreal.

You dive back in to kiss him, he prods his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with yours making you moan into his mouth.

“Hi guys!”

Your eyes shoot open, mouth still attached to Nicks. You push your head back, disconnecting from Nick and yank your head to the left where you see a wild Jungkook sitting on the living room sofa, his mouth full of the cereal he is eating. He is wearing the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on him.

“Jungkook?! What the fuck?” You spit out, totally fucking shocked. Like, obviously.

“Hey man…” Nick breathes out heavily, trying to speak properly, “I thought you would be at Vanessa’s tonight?”

“Nah,” Jungkook smiles, “Dropped her off and came home.”

HOME?

“H-Home?” You look between the two guys, what the fuck does he mean by that. This is Nicks place, right?

“Oh you didn’t know?” Jungkook nods his head toward Nick, “Nick here is my beloved roommate.”

“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath, trying to understand the mother fucking situation. Were you about to fuck Jungkook’s roommate? Are you still going to is the real question?

“Wait, how do you two even know each other?” Nick starts to look antsy, “Don’t tell me she’s one of the girls you’ve fucked…come on bro, leave some for the rest of us.” He chuckles somewhat bitterly.

“No!” you’re quick to say. You begin smoothing out your skirt, then your hair. “We just…”

“y/n is my bestie!” Jungkook grins, putting the cereal down and standing up. He walks forward until he is making a triangle with you and Nick.

“Was.” You spit out harshly, crossing your arms across your chest. Nick just stands there confused as hell, looking between the two of you.

“Anyway, I should get going.” You turn your body to Nick, a look of apology on your face.

“What? We can just go to my room?” he slurs, tugging on his pants uncomfortably, his boner still apparent.

“Sorry, no longer in the mood.”

You pull out your phone to order an Uber when Jungkook takes your phone from you.

“I’m not drunk, I can drive you.” He offers. You push your head back in disbelief, how does Jungkook have the AUDACITY to offer that to you?

“Why the fuck would I want that?”

“So we can…” His eyes slide over to the ever growing confused Nick, “Talk.”

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 3 months and today is finally the day you are able to breathe a little easier and he just has to barge back in.

“Like I said,” You snatch your phone back from him, “Why the fuck would I want that?”

Nick shifts around uncomfortably, his eyes darting from you to Jungkook.

“Well, I am gonna head to my room…uh, bye y/n…it was nice meeting you…I guess…”

You and Jungkook both turn your heads toward Nick at the same time, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Yeah, bye.” Jungkook dismisses his roommate, his jaw clenching.

“Nice to meet you too…”

Nick walks backward until his back meets his bedroom room, he looks at the two of you one last time before turning around to disappear into his room.

“I said, let me drive you home.”

“And I said, why the fuck would I want that?”

“y/n don’t choose now to be difficult.” Jungkook takes a step closer to you, his hands running through his dark, messy hair. His eyes shut in frustration, “I just want to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.” You take a step back, “Plus, how would your girlfriend feel if you took me home?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his mouth setting in a firm line.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.” You scoff.

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say. While she’s not his girlfriend she’s also not not his girlfriend. It’s complicated.

“Can I please, just please, can I take you home?”

“No, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,” you scoff again, “You haven’t spoken to me in 3 months,” your voice fucking cracks and you feel like dying. “Don’t start now.”

“y/n…” he runs another frustrated hand down his tired face, “I didn’t mean for it to go this long…” “I don’t fucking care, Jungkook.”

You feel your chest begin to burn, and your eyes begin to gloss over but you won’t cry. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

You stare at the phone in your hands as you begin ordering your Uber when he yanks it from your hands once again, he hides the phone in his back pocket and you snarl.

“What the hell Jeon?”

“I said I am driving you home so we can talk so that’s what we are gonna fucking do, okay?” he grabs your hand and begins walking you towards the front door. There’s something about Jungkook...you decide to listen. You watch silently as he puts on his shoes and grabs his wallet and keys.

“Okay…” you finally answer, your voice timid.

He said you guys are going to talk but the car ride has been mostly silent save the low radio playing in the background. Maybe it’s better this way, you think. You aren’t sober, that’s for sure but you also don’t think you are drunk enough to handle this properly. You decide maybe that’s also for the best.

“You sir, are a fucking asshole.” You speak up, your fingers playing with the zipper of your purse. The car smells like it always does, his fresh laundry car freshener and you get sucked into a million memories linked with this scent.

“I know.” Jungkook eyes you from the driver seat, you shiver from the running AC and so he turns it down, “There’s a blanket in the back if you want to grab it.”

“No thanks, don’t know where that’s been.”

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Your eyes go wide as you recall his last promise to you…”Just a few days. I promise.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually believe in your promises anymore.” You continue to pick at the zipper of your purse, your eyes never leaving the zig and zag of the material.

“I needed space y/n, fucking sue me.” He groans out, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Oh I wish I could.” You snap back.

You feel your chest burn and tighten again, your eyes slightly watering. You have to force them shut to keep from any tears growing.

“I called and texted you every day.” You whisper, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel.

“I gave you a few days Jungkook. But I never heard from you until 11 at night one night telling me you are fucking moving out.”

“I know, that was…fucked up, I admit. But I had to do what I had to do and I just wish you would let me explain that—”

“No.” you cut him off, “You don’t deserve to explain anything.”

“You mean so much to me y/n…”

“Don’t.”

Jungkook pulls over on the side of the road, turning off the ignition.

“What are you doing?” you sputter out.

He clicks his seatbelt off his body and turns to face you, “Getting comfortable.”

“Why?”

“Will you look at me?” Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Will you please look at me?”

“No.” you stay facing forward, your hands folded in your lap.

“y/n…please.” His voice sounds strained and you almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

You don’t need this…you don’t need him. Ouch, you feel pain in your chest as you think that…oh, the lies you tell yourself.

“Say what you need to say Jungkook, so you can take me home.” Your face stays neutral.

Jungkook sighs out, feeling almost defeated, but not quite.

“I…I am so sorry.” He finally says.

“About what?”

“Everything y/n.” his voice cracks and somehow you feel satisfied.

“You’ll have to be more specific if you ever want my acceptance”

“I know…the first thing I am sorry for is not telling you about Taehyung. That was…that was wrong of me—”

“No shit, but go on.” Your voice stays steady as you speak.

“I was worried about other shit, I was selfish and it’s taking me a long time to forgive myself…but I’ve thought a lot about it these last few months and—and…”

“Oh? You’re worried about you forgiving yourself? Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about I don’t know, me?”

Jungkook frowns at your words, because well, you’re right. And he’s getting to that part but you keep interrupting him. But he lets you.

“Yes. I am most worried about you, of course.” He breathes out. “You have no idea what these 3 months without you have felt like…”

“Really Jungkook? If anyone knows its fucking me. I went 3 months without you too. You left me!” you start to lose your composure as you speak, your hands gripping on to your poor purse. “When I was going through a really hard time you straight up left me.” You whisper.

“Please believe me…I had my reasons. It was truly for the best y/n.”

“For the best?” you scoff. “You’re such an asshole.”

Jungkook winces at your words, he knows you mean them and that hurts him even more.

“Can you just trust me?” Jungkook blurts out.

Huh? You shake your head, disappointed he would say something so …well, ridiculous.

“Just stop, Jungkook.” You hesitantly roll your eyes, still shaking your head.

Jungkook licks his lips over and over, trying to figure out his next words.

“I really really,” he begins to lose it, his eyes darting all around the car. “just need you to trust me.” He blinks repeatedly, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

You, of course, do not believe your ears. Trust him? How could you possibly trust him?

“I just really…I really had my reasons y/n. And I’m sorry, but I just need you to just trust me, that I had my reasons and that I do care about you.” His voice is shaky and you’re uncertain how to take this information.

“I’m confused…” you begin, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want me to trust you? Even after you left me? Even after I ‘threw myself’ at you?!”

“You weren’t in the right head space y/n…you were vulnerable and…and you didn’t actually want me. You just were feeling used and rejected and needed something to make you feel wanted. To feel better. You wanted to use me for that and I couldn’t let you. But how much could I handle? You liked one of my friends, dated him…sort of, even slept with him and I had to be your shoulder to cry on when,” his breathing picks up heavily as he tries to speak, “it doesn’t matter.” He grits out.

You sit there…speechless. He wasn’t wrong, was he? You were feeling lost and rejected and used and you just wanted something or someone to feel better and who better than your best friend? But it’s also his fault you needed things to work out with Taehyung in the first place!

“Jungkook—”

“I’m not done.” He breathes out, his hot breath reaching your skin.

“I needed some space to think. But I realized I couldn’t properly think things through if I saw you every day, so yeah, I moved out. I’m sorry…” He runs a hand through his hair, a light chuckle makes it way past his lips “Then I met Vanessa.”

“I don’t want to talk about your little girlfriend.” You turn to face forward in your seat, your eyes glancing at the stop sign ahead.

“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. But it is complicated.”

You continue to look straight ahead, your heart racing in your chest. The subject of “Vanessa” making you feel anxious.

“Complicated how?” you gulp.

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs to himself, you turn your head to look at him.

“Are you serious, Jungkook?”

“We fuck y/n.”

“But it’s more than that right?”

“Yeah…” Jungkook bites down on his lip.

You look at him bewildered.

“Do you like her? Love her?”

You grip your purse in your lap, waiting for his answer. How would you feel if he answers yes? Are you brave enough to endure that answer? And if he says no? should you be happy? Should you feel relieved?

“No.” he closes his eyes, he folds his hands in front of him. “It’s complicated.”

You sign in relief—oh. Relief is the emotion you are feeling. Why? Why should it matter?

“Why are you telling me all of this?” you whisper.

“I want to be friends again, y/n.” he says softly, his eyes searching yours.

This is madness, how the hell could you save this friendship? Your face scrunches up and the first couple of tears slide down your cheeks, you shake your head as they continue to fall.

“You don’t know how this makes me feel…” you cry out. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel.”

You miss him, so fucking much and he’s right here offering himself to you. But you ‘re so hurt.

“y/n…I know I hurt you. But you gotta believe me when I say it is the hardest thing I have had to do…you understand that right? I had to do it…you understand right?” he begs.

“You were so quick to abandon me, Jungkook.” You drop your head into your hands, the tears uncontrollable now.

“I…” Jungkook begins to panic, his own eyes glossing over. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please y/n…I can make it up to you.”

“Things would never be the same, you get that right?” you bawl into your lap, your words coming out broken.

“Please baby, I just need you in my life again…” Jungkook admits, his own words choppy. He reaches his hand to touch you, to his surprise you don’t flinch. His hand cups the back of your head and he begins to massage it softly.

“I have missed you so much and nothing I mean nothing can replace you.” He hesitates to continue, “trust me…I have tried.”

You sob into your hands harder, the weight of his words crushing you.

“I’m sorry Jungkook but I…I don’t believe you.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he absorbs your words, his mouth falls open in shock. Don’t believe him?

“What—what do you mean? What are you saying?” his panic filled voice makes your stomach churn.

“I reject your offer. Now please take me home.” You lift your head and stare straight ahead. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook face twists into a bewildered expression, he doesn’t believe his ears. You…reject him?

“Wait—”

“I said take me home now.” This time you snap your face in his direction, the cold look in your eyes piercing his very soul.

“Okay.”

Hopeless: the dictionary describes it as without hope ; despairing. But in reality, it’s just a picture of Jungkook’s poor, poor face.

Jungkook parks in his designated spot in the lot of his apartment complex, he reverses in because why the hell not. So extra. His drive home was silent… not even the radio on a low volume keeping him company, just complete silence. He turns the car off but doesn’t make a move to get out, he just continues to sit here in his car and sigh out dramatically every 5 seconds.

He’s so confused and lost on what to do. He bangs his head against the steering wheel a few times just for the hell of it, he just…he didn’t think you would reject him. But honestly? Can he blame you? All he’s done lately is be selfish and mess up over and over again. But he wishes you could just trust him but he also wishes he could just tell you the truth. Maybe then you could understand his position and you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore. But he has to wait.

Jungkook’s head is still banging against the steering wheel when more thoughts of you bombard his mind. His breathing picks up and he starts to sniffle, he doesn’t want to cry but you just…you don’t want anything to do with him. He balls his hands into fists and hit the steering wheel over and over causing the horn to go off a few times but he doesn’t care he’s so upset, he just….

When Jungkook saw you tonight for the first time in 3 months he swears his heart actually stopped. He swears it raced so quickly that it just stopped. He let go of Vanessa’s hand so quickly because he wanted to rush to you and hug you close, he wanted to just feel you. Not having touched your skin for the last 3 months…he doesn’t want to imagine even another day.

A few tears slip past his closed lids, he chuckles darkly as he recalls you and Nick. He thought, wow, the universe is cruel and also hilarious. His fucking roommate? He shakes his head, laughing again but his lips remain downward. He feels so fucking helpless right now. But he deserves this, he deserves to feel this pain. He did this to himself and he’s fully aware of that.

Jungkook thinks of your face, he thinks of your smile, he thinks of your eyes and he cries harder, his tears landing on the steering wheel and sliding down landing on to his lap. Yes, he feels like all hope is lost but he knows he cannot give up. He will win you over again one day. He lifts his head and wipes his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand and breathes out steadily.

“y/n…” he whispers to himself. Your name leaves his mouth in frustration. He won’t give up. He can’t.

~~~~

“And they were roommates?!” Jimin shouts, a banana half sticking out of his mouth, Trina gasps and whispers “Oh my god they were roommates.”

“Yeah, it was a total shit show.” You bang your head against your breakfast table. Holly rubs your back as she sits next to you.

“Then what happened?” she pries further.

“Yeah what the hell happened y/n!” Jimin yells out.

“He asked to be friends again…and I totally rejected him. Maybe I was too harsh? He was so sad guys…it makes me think…I might agree to kind of being…friends?”

Jimin shuts his eyes as a frown decorates his face, he places a hand on his hip and he inhales a sharp breath, “Listen…you’re both my friends and of course I want you to be good again…but he hurt you …bad.”

“I know Jiminie, but his reasons…” you bite your lip, “Never mind.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” Trina butts in. “He fucking left you, remember?”

“Yes Trina, I fucking remember—”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Trina relax,” Holly intervenes. “They have a long history, right? It’s hard to just forget about everything…”

Jimin stands from his chair, hands on both hips. “Fine, if we are doing this…then you better actually try. Don’t half ass shit, if you’re going to be friends then don’t be an asshole to him, don’t make snarky remarks…I know your ass.”

Jimin has a good point, you haven’t actually thought about how you will act.

“I’ll be a good girl.” You raise your right arm to salute him.

“Fucking smart ass.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are we serious right now?” Trina shakes her head, “You moped around for 3 fucking months y/n. You cried every time you even thought of Jungkook…which was a fucking lot.” She points out, “Listen, you stayed strong when you talked to him in the car. Don’t break just because you feel bad for the dude because he’s fucking pitiful. He doesn’t deserve your pity girl. He’s an asshole!”

“Trina, be nice.” Holly says sternly, reaching forward to grab on to Trina’s hand. Trina visibly relaxes and nods her head towards Holly and smiles softly.

You and Jimin share a look. Are they….?

“You…” You slam your eyes shut, Trina’s words ringing loudly in your ears. You know she’s right. “I’ll think about it some more. For now, I gotta get ready for work.”

~~~~

“Doesn’t Hazel look so pretty here?” Adam shoves his phone in your face as he gushes about his girlfriend.

“Yes dude, she’s so pretty.” You deadpan. “Now can you please put the brownies in the oven? We’re low.”

“Wait wait…here’s one of us together at the park.” He nudges his phone in your hands, you roll your eyes but you take it.

The two of them are sitting on a park bench, she’s leaning into his frame and they both have wide smiles on their faces. They seem so in love. And you know they are because fucking Adam reminds you every 20 seconds.

“Their love makes me sick.” Jade walks over, her hands patting down on her work apron, her tone is bland but she still tries to smile. “Like, we get it.”

“Who loves who more?” you begin with a toothy grin, “Adam to Hazel or Lenny to the sugar cookies?” you laugh while pointing at said Lenny stuffing his face with the reject cookies. Jade and Adam chuckle while they stare at him.

“Hey guys, really?” Lenny says with his mouth full. “You know I feel bad when we throw them away.” He pouts, crumbs decorating his lips.

“Lenny I catch you eating fresh ones all the time!” Adam points out.

“Sometimes they’re a little ugly…” Lenny reasons, “So I…”

“You don’t have to explain my guy, you just really love your cookies.” You hand Adam back his phone as you head towards the walk in freezer to take out the brownies yourself. You load up a tray and stick those suckers in the oven.

“You’re useless Adam.” Jade sticks a piece of gum in her mouth and chews obnoxiously “U-s-e-l-e-s-s. Useless.”

“You’re always so mean to me Jade what did I ever do to you?”

All 4 of you shoot your heads up when you hear the bell go off on the door of the bakery, its loud chime signaling the arrival of a customer.

“Oh.” Jade says while popping a bubble. “It’s your usual customer y/n.”

You tilt your head towards the front of the store to get a look at who she is talking about, and yup its him. Your most consistent customer who orders the same damn thing every single day. 2 oatmeal raisin cookies and that’s it.

“Can someone else just take care of him today?” you whine, “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“You know he’s just going to ask for you…” Lenny says stuffing his face with another cookie.

“God damn it.” You huff out, you grab two gloves from the box on the counter and begin walking towards the front of the store.

You reach the front counter and take in your enemy—you mean, your customer.

“And what do I owe the pleasure Mister Oatmeal Raisin?” you raise a brow towards the man. He’s only a few inches taller than you, his hair is a sandy color today and you hate to admit it looks good on him.

“You know you could just call me by name.” the man sways side to side with a smirk on his face.

“I like Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He has been coming to this store for the last couple of months and you two…don’t necessarily get along swimmingly. He complains a lot and is a total smart ass. And you? Well, you’re not much better.

“Well, I’ll have my usual.” He smiles, “And you know the drill, please make sure there is a normal amount of raisins and not a million, I don’t want 8 raisins a bite. But one every now and then.”

You roll your eyes extremely dramatically, pressing the buttons on the screen for his order.

“Sir yes sir.” You salute towards him, “How could I not know the drill?”

“That’s the spirit.”

You spin on your heels and head towards the back to heat up his two cookies. You carefully select one cookie with barely any raisins and one cookie with a million, just like he didn’t want. You cackle to yourself as you place them in the baggy, feeling beyond satisfied.

“How haven’t you gotten fired?” Adam crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, “And how hasn’t he complained about you? You do this every time I don’t get it.”

“He likes her.” Jade says plainly while scrolling through her phone.

“As fucking if!” you scoff, “He wants nothing but to annoy me!” But you can’t help but smile.

“He literally only asks for you every time you’re in.” Lenny reasons, “but you shouldn’t like him back…he likes the worst cookie on the menu. Sugar is where it’s at.”

You laugh at your coworker while walking back up towards the front of the store, reaching the counter.

“Your cookies!” you hand him the baggy with an evil smirk, “I hope you enjoy them.” You wink.

The man opens the baggy and inspects each cookie and with his own evil smirk he winks back at you, “Are we serious right now?” his sly smile doesn’t leave his face as he begins to complain, “You are such a brat.”

“$4 Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He hands you the cash, you put it away quickly and with a wide smile you gesture towards the door for him to leave.

“Min Yoongi.” He shakes the bag of cookies in front of him, “Not Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” He turns around and starts walking towards the door but before he exits he tilts his head to look at you one last time, “See you tomorrow…y/n.”

You feel a harsh blush creep up on your cheeks, or your whole face actually. Maybe your whole body. You feel taken aback he knows your name but then you remember you have a god damn name tag.

“Uh…yeah.”

“See you tomorrow…y/n.” all 3 of your coworkers mock in a deep voice.

“Shut up guys!” you whine into your hands, “Can we please just get back to work!”

~~~~~

A few weeks later

The drive to Jimin’s is a quick 7 minutes but you did take a little detour. You decided to stop at the pizzeria that’s on the way and grab a hot pizza for the two of you.

“Hehe.” You look over to the steamy food sitting in the passenger seat.

Jimin has been such a great friend to you all this time and you feel like you’ve never really thanked him…so, tonight you two are going to have a fun night in—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Who doesn’t love being surprised with food?

You pull up to Jimin’s apartment complex and after driving in circles you finally find a parking spot. You grab your purse, your backpack, and the pizza and make your way up to his apartment.

You knock on his front door a few times but get no answer. Maybe he’s not home? No, you definitely hear music coming from the other side…so, you decide to call him.

“Hello?”

“Jimin~ let me in!” you sing into the phone.

“You’re—you’re here?”

“Let me in already!” and with that you hang up and wait patiently outside the door.

A few moments pass before the door is opening up, when Jimin really registers that it’s you he’s kind of closing the door until only his face is shown through the crack.

“Ummm…yes?”

You quirk a brow at the boy, “What do you mean ‘yes?’ let me in!” you begin walking forward when a panicked Jimin opens the door wider to let himself outside and shut the door behind him.

“y/n…why are you here? Did we have plans tonight?” he looks down at the pizza in your hands.

“Not exactly…” you admit, “But I figured we could have a night in.”

Jimin frowns. Fucking frowns!

“Or not?” you say awkwardly.

You hear some sort of banging on the other side of the door and then it clicks.

“Oh? You have someone over?” you smirk.

“Uhhh…no. Nothing like that.” Jimin’s eyes slide to the side as he tries to think of what to say next.

“Babe—”

“Jimin!”

The door is being swung wide open and your eyes travel from some horrendous toes socks to some tight jeans to a striped t shirt to yes, Jungkook’s surprised face.

“Oh.” You both say at the same time.

You and Jungkook stare at one another for a few moments, neither of your eyes leaving the other when Jimin clears his throat.

“Sorry y/n. Jungkook is already over…” he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Is it just you two?” you ask quietly.

“Huh? Uh, yeah.”

You glance down at the pizza and think to yourself. You and Jungkook may not be friends but you can be civil? Yeah, totally! You can definitely be civil! You already bought this fucking pizza so you and Jimin are going to eat it! And you guess, Jungkook too.

“Okay, let me in.” you start shoving your way past Jimin, you watch as his and Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

“Maybe you didn’t hear him, but I am already hanging out with him?” Jungkook sputters out. He awkwardly moves to the side anyway to let you through.

“I can be civil with you Jungkook. Plus, I don’t want this pizza to go to waste. So let’s eat.” You walk through, nudging the pizza box into Jungkook’s hands, he takes it while looking at Jimin with shocked eyes.

Jimin just shrugs and follows you inside.

“Yeah, let’s eat.” He says nonchalantly.

Jungkook is left at the door with the pizza in his hands as he is left completely dumbfounded. He is malfunctioning.

“Jungkook?” you call out over your shoulder, “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Jungkook hurry up!” Jimin smirks, he isn’t totally sure what’s going on but he kind of likes it.

“So what were you guys doing before I got here?” you shove an entire slice of pizza down your throat, the sauce getting left behind on your lips.

“I was teaching Jungkook some of my dance moves…we made a bet that he couldn’t learn the entire routine in 3 times…and—”

“Let me guess, he fucking learned it.” You laugh.

Jimin groans, his head thrown back as he begins nodding his head ‘yes.’

“So annoying! What can’t he do!” Jimin throws the pizza crust in the box and Jungkook immediately picks it up and eats it.

“Pshh, I could name a few things.” You point out bitterly. “But we won’t get into that.”

“Yeah, please don’t.” Jimin pleads.

“I’m curious…what is it you think I cant do?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you and your eyes darken in his direction.

“You really want me to?” you take a napkin and wipe your lips, “It’s nothing nice.” You admit.

“Oh then yes, please don’t.” Jungkook is quick to say.

“Yes, please don’t.” Jimin begs again.

The 3 of you are sitting on the living room floor, maybe only 30 minutes or so has passed by and it’s not too awkward. But it’s not necessarily comfortable either. Jimin looks between you and Jungkook constantly, waiting for someone to crack but neither of you really speak to each other. Both of you really only communicating with Jimin.

“So Jimin, are you going to show me another routine?”

“Why? So you can prove you’re the master of everything again? No thanks.”

“Jimin, maybe you can show me a few steps?”

Jimin smiles awkwardly while Jungkook is quick to burst out laughing. You snap your head towards Jungkook and raise your brows at him.

“Why is Jungkook laughing, Jimin?”

“Umm…” Jimin smiles softly, “You aren’t the most…”

Jungkook laughs harder as he watches Jimin trying to explain.

“Aren’t the most…?” You tilt your head towards the boy.

“C’mon y/n don’t make me say it…” Jimin drags out his words in a whine, he plays with his fingers, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Just say it Jimin.” Jungkook chuckles out.

“If you’re trying to say I’m a bad dancer, we all know that’s not true!” you defend once you catch on, you pout at the boys.

“Well…”

“You have both told me I am a good dancer!”

“Well, you know how to move. But steps…following a routine…that’s different. You aren’t very coordinated.” Jimin finally admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

“He means you can roll your hips but your feet are clumsy as fuck.” Jungkook says, still laughing at the situation.

“Shut up.” You glare at Jungkook.

“No, he’s right.” Jimin begins laughing as well, he looks at you and smiles. Well, if Jimin is saying it…maybe it might be true. It’s not like you didn’t kind of know. But still!

“Fine, whatever. Don’t teach me then.”

Suddenly, Jimin’s phone is going off and he rushes to the kitchen to answer it. You and Jungkook eat your pizza in silence, awkwardly catching one another’s gaze.

“So—”

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut in. Jimin isn’t here so it’s not like you have to be totally social with Jungkook.

“Oh.” Jungkook dramatically slumps his shoulders and pouts. You watch him as he throws a silent fit like the baby he is. “Okay.”

Jimin walks back into the living room looking annoyed, he stands between you two and throws a hand on his hip.

“I have to go down to the front office, there was a mix up in packages…I shouldn’t take too long…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, “Please be civil while I’m gone. Jungkook…” he looks at the boy then at you, “y/n…” he warns.

“Sir yes sir!” you salute towards your friend with a straight face.

Jimin only narrows his eyes as he looks between you two.

“I’m serious…” he says.

Then he is putting on some shoes and heading out the front door, the soft click making you shudder. You’re alone with Jungkook.

A few minutes pass and you both awkwardly just sit there, sometimes catching the other looking. You finally huff out and accidentally giggle.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the best of him.

“It’s just…I feel like we’re Jimin’s divorced parents and we’re trying to be civil for our child.”

Jungkook stares at you with scrunched brows, then looks away while a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You only nod your head in response. You two go back to the awkward silence.

You aren’t used to this…this awkward and odd silence that lingers between you two. It feels so fucking suffocating you almost wish you were on total talking terms so you didn’t have to endure this shit show.

“You know I could…no, forget it.” Jungkook bites his nails as he speaks, “I…”

“What?” you don’t mean to snap at him, but somehow even talking with an attitude feels better than not talking at all.

“I was going to say…I could teach you some steps…then you could surprise Jimin. He’s been working on a salsa piece…I can teach you some? Then maybe he will stop talking shit on your dancing.” Jungkook laughs awkwardly.

“Wait—he talks shit?!” somehow this doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“Only a little.” Jungkook shows you how little with his pointer finger and thumb. “But uh, want me to show you?”

“I don’t even want to talk to you, you think I want to dance with you?” you raise a brow in amusement. You forget this boy has all the audacity.

“Dancing doesn’t have to have any talking.” Jungkook states with a sly smile.

“So you’re just going to show me the steps?”

“Precisely.”

You don’t know why, but this sounds better than actually speaking and/or just sitting in miserable silence. And maybe, just maybe you have a desire to be close to him.

“You think I could learn in time before Jimin gets back?”

“With me as your teacher? Definitely.” He fucking smirks at you and you can’t help but feel that feeling in your stomach. Not necessarily a bad feeling but a fucking feeling.

Jungkook stands to his feet and extends his hand out to you for you to take.

“Here, stand up.”

Your eyes travel from his hands to his eyes and you blink lazily at him…wait, you’re really doing this? He stares down at you and he smiles softly and it creates a warmth in your chest that you’re trying so hard to ignore. You can’t.

Even so, you hesitantly begin to reach up to grab on to his hand, once your skin touches his you feel it. The burning. You should be used to it but right now, the fire is raging and the heat is almost too much. But you let him close his hand over yours as he helps you up.

You’re now standing in front of one another, in complete silence again. But this time it’s not awkward—no, it’s a different type of tension. Your hand lingers in his, neither of you brave enough to let go of the other. Jungkook looks down at you and you up at him, and you feel a million things. But the number one thing you feel is pain. You slowly pull your hand back and break eye contact with him, your head dropping low.

“Show me already.” You whisper.

“Shh, no talking.” Jungkook quietly demands. “Only speak with your body.” He puts some music on the speakers and smirks at you.

Jungkook steps closer to you and you stay grounded in your spot, you can feel the heat of his body begin to radiate and warm you. One of his hands find yours, he weaves his fingers through your own and puts one hand on your hip, he looks down at you to warn you this is how he will guide you.

“Just follow me.”

“You said no talking Mr.Jeon.” you say almost under your breath as you stare into his eyes. Jungkook rolls his head back with a smirk on his face, he looks at you and nods.

He puts his left foot forward and steps with his right foot in the same place at center, then puts his left foot back again. You try to copy his moves but even with such simple steps you step on his feet. He looks up at you disapprovingly. You only smile at him.

You two continue to try these steps until you finally manage to understand them even just a little bit. Jungkook brings your body closer to his as you two move your hips to the music while following the simple steps. His chest flush against your own, his heart beating so loudly you can feel it. Your heart isn’t any better. You start to finally get the hang of it, the music slowly taking you to another place. Jungkook moves his hips to the beat so flawlessly and honestly? You’re doing pretty fucking good if you do say so yourself.

Jungkook’s grip on your hip tightens as he grinds himself closer to you, you feel lightheaded as you two dance to the song. Your breathing getting just a little heavier and you feel lost and pathetic but you’re too immersed in the dance to care. Jungkook finds his head falling into the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning against your sensitive skin and you find your hand skimming up his back until you have a handful of his hair. You lightly tug on his locks and Jungkook quietly groans. You don’t know if you’re even doing the right steps anymore, your feet moving all around the place, but somehow it’s working. You’re still following his lead and you’re sure the dance looks somewhat okay. All you care about is how both of your hips move to the beat of the music and into each other. You two are so in sync its driving you nuts.

Jungkook lifts his head and watches as you close your eyes and he closes his own eyes, his head falling forward, your foreheads close to touching. You feel so dizzy, so light and airy, so fucking great like you’re floating. You can’t help but feel the heat creep up your entire body, you feel sweat start to build as you two move. You tighten your hands around Jungkook’s neck and pull him down impossibly close, until his forehead is touching yours. Your harsh breaths mingling with his. You get dragged into the memory of when he had you pinned to his dorms mattress, you recall how his lips left kisses all along your throat, his hot breath reminding you of the past. You think of how he rolled his hips into you effortlessly then as well, you think of how you scraped your nails down his back as he thrusted into you. God, you need to think of something else but Jungkook is filling your mind.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up again, as does yours. Your memories making this dance that much more sensual. You remember the way Jungkook nibbled on your ear as he let filthy words spill from his mouth when he fucked you. God, you should not be thinking this but his body feels so good. God, you should think of anything…literally anything else. You remember how he held you close much like how he is right now. You two continue dancing to the song that is soon coming to an end. You know exactly how it feels to have Jungkook inside you, moving and stilling. You know exactly what it feels like to come all around his cock. God, you need to stop. You need to slow your breathing. God, you…you…you...he continues to guide you along to the music when you feel something hard poke against you. Oh. Oh. OH. Hard. He’s hard.

Immediately, you pull back and take several clumsy steps backward. You blink at him with wide eyes when you realize that maybe he was recalling the same memories as you. Your wide eyes concerning Jungkook.

“Okay, that’s enough lessons for today.” Your harsh breaths don’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, his own breathing quite unsteady.

“Right.” Jungkook mumbles.

You two stand around for a few moments, just taking in the experience you just shared.

You still feel…how do you feel? You just shared a hot dance with your best friend? Wait—ex best friend? You don’t know. The memory of his body moving with yours, his skin touching your skin, his breaths on your neck, his hair balled up in your hands. God, it felt so good.

But so wrong.

“Umm…thanks.” You finally say.

Jungkook perks up at the gratitude, even if it’s somewhat forced. His frown turns into a small smile and you can’t help but smile back.

“I miss you y/n.” Jungkook instantly regrets it by the look on your face. Your expression turning hard. “Sorry I—”

“No, I miss you too.” You answer honestly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”

“But why not? Do you really not want me in your life for like, ever?”

Jungkook’s questions settle deep within you. The depth they hold…it’s too much. You wonder? Is this anti-Jungkook thing permanent? Or are you just trying to teach him a lesson?

Jungkook rubs his temples as he thinks, he sighs out instead of talking more.

“Not forever.” You finally say. Jungkook looks at you, a sliver of hope flashes across his face.

“But when?” he asks softly.

Yeah y/n. When? You know you both can’t go back to how things use to be but maybe starting over? God, you don’t know what to do! You know someone like Trina will be disappointed you became friends with Jungkook again so quickly, but you know someone like Jimin would be happy his two friends are back to being on okay terms. Why are you trying to please everybody? What do you want?

“Will you ever give up?” you say a little more lightly.

“No…” he says under his breath, his eyes focusing on the TV. “Not until you agree to be my friend again.”

You look at Jungkook with disbelief written all over your face, this boy has the fucking audacity once again. You’re amused though.

“Excuse me?” you say, cleaning your ear out with your point finger. “I didn’t catch that.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes, his eyes are large and doe like and it brings you back to every moment ever that he has given you this look.

“You’re stuck with me until you love me again.” He says more firmly.

“Who said,” you look at him with soft eyes, “That I ever stopped loving you?”

Jungkook smiles, he fucking smiles. His adorable bunny smile that makes your heart race.

“You still love me?”

“Only a little.” You jut your lip out, “I mostly hate you.”

Jungkook only frowns for a second before he is smiling again, “That’s fair.”

The two of you stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, you sway back and forth wondering what you want to say to him—you miss him, of course but…

“Let’s take it slow.” You finally break the silence. You miss him more than anything and it might be worth it to have him in your life again, “You aren’t going to be a priority in my life anymore.” You crack you knuckles, the sound filling up the room.

“I know,” Jungkook feels his heart twist at your words but at least it’s something. “We can go however slow you want y/n.”

“You are on—”

“Thin fucking ice, buddy. I know.”

You exhale a shaky breath, thinking about how to go about this, “We can text every now and then, I’m not sure I want to hang out with you quite yet.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe a group hang out first…”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand but you pull back, “That’s a no from me for the affection.”

Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s features but he softens up as he nods his head. “Noted.”

You wonder if you’re making the right decision. This wasn’t easy, you know? This actually felt quite hard. But somehow you feel like some weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like things maybe just maybe will be okay.

“I won’t push myself on you, I promise.” Jungkook sits back down on the floor, crossing his legs.

“Just be yourself, Jungkook.”

“If I wanted to be myself I would be hugging you right now but that’s apparently off limits.” He jokes.

“One hug.” You open your arms timidly. You feel one hug can’t be too bad?

Jungkook widens his eyes in pleasant surprise. He stands to his feet again and opens his own arms.

“C’mere.”

You watch in disbelief as he grins with his arms wide open, expecting you to go to him! And you do. You fucking do.

His arms wrap around you, he pushes you into his chest and you feel so fucking good. So warm, so cozy. His scent making you feel dizzy again, his warmth causing you to heat up. You lean back and look at his content face, he honestly looks so fucking content. Like, this hug is everything to him. And maybe it is, but you don’t know that.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” you both snap your heads toward the front door to see Jimin standing there with a package in his hands.

“I can come back later?” he smirks at you two.

“No no no no!” you drop your arms from hugging Jungkook and take a few steps back, “We were just—”

“We made up, Jimin.” Jungkook says calmly with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“We’re taking it slow!” you rush to say.

“Oh?” Jimin winks, he walks forward until he’s in the living room joining you two. “Does this mean you will be joining us this Thursday at Jungkook and Nick’s place?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, “Yeah, uh, me and Nick are having a small get together on Thursday…you can bring whoever you want…but you’re definitely invited.”

“Before I answer that…Jimin how did you not know about Nick and him being Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Listen! Jungkook is always HERE! I never go over there! The few times I was there Nick was never home okay?!” Jimin whines obnoxiously.

“Okay, whatever. And Jungkook, I said—”

“You said group hang outs.” Jungkook pouts.

Oh. You did say that. But this soon? And is she going to be there?

You chew on your lips before answering, “Okay. But I’m bringing Trina and Holly.”

“Oh bro, Trina is not your biggest fan.” Jimin cuts in.

“Yeah, I know how she is I already anticipated that.” Jungkook shrugs, he looks at you with a small smile.

Okay, starting over? Taking it slow? Can you and Jungkook do this? You look between the boys and smile,

“Okay. See you boys on Thursday.”

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #taehyung angst

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