#the amount of blood that came out of him though. good grief
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#TOGE COMING IN CLUTCH LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOO#the amount of blood that came out of him though. good grief#inumaki toge#toge inumaki#every inumaki#jujutsu kaisen#jjk spoilers#jjk ch262#cw blood
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THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]
Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)
word count: 7.9k
trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.
authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.
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'Doctor, look into my eyes.
I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'
The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief werenât quite enough to summarise what they were going through.
Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.
Penelopeâs eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didnât need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7.Â
Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadnât slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like heâd been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved. Â
Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now.Â
They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included.Â
Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared heâd wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didnât even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasnât there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings.Â
Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where heâd set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up.Â
Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didnât know how he felt.Â
But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldnât.Â
He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldnât not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldnât wrap his big brain around.Â
So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help.Â
Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section âBegging to be answeredâ and of course, her Pièce de rĂŠsistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover.Â
âHello my handsome gentlemen,â She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, âAuntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,âÂ
âAm I not invited?â Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasnât, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.
âYou are, of course you are, I just didnât want them to get jealous,â She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, âIs she sleeping?â
âNo,â He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, âIâll go get her,âÂ
âOkay,â Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, âIâll get the hot chocolates ready!â Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her.Â
He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasnât pushing her too hard.Â
Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her.Â
She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside.Â
âHey,â He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. âYou got up! Did you eat anything?âÂ
She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like sheâd been waiting all day to have him near again.Â
âI had a couple biscuits and some coffee,â Her voice was raspy, and it was the first heâd heard her speak in a few days. âIâll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-â
âNo, no, thatâs great,â He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didnât take care of herself the way he wanted her to, âPennyâs here to see you. Sheâs here for a girlâs night, if thatâs okay?â
Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her.Â
âIâve missed Penny,â She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, âIs that chocolate?â
He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. Heâd gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances.Â
The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasnât good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit sheâd crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece.Â
âYes, itâs chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,â He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didnât hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. âWait a second, pants,â He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didnât mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didnât want her to give Pen a scare.Â
A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching.Â
âBug!â Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girlâs appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up.Â
She looked sick, like she hadnât known fresh air in weeks, or like sheâd pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Pennyâs arms.Â
The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly.Â
âI see Spencer has been treating you well,â Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when heâd come into âthe bat caveâ that afternoon to ask for her help.Â
Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face.Â
The girlâs skin was dull in a way theyâd never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried.Â
âHeâs been great,â Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencerâs where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. Sheâd not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing.Â
She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times sheâd managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home.Â
But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her.Â
He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic.Â
And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour âto match the eveningâ. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all sheâd needed.Â
Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.
It wasnât until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes heâd made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it.Â
It wasnât until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking.Â
JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emilyâs secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasnât doing good. She wasnât even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emilyâs safety she couldnât tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed.Â
Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didnât want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. Theyâd both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of âsorryâs and dead eyes.
So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her.Â
JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldnât hear it, he would only blame himself more.Â
So sheâd told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that heâd been asking for her since sheâd come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy heâd ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for âthe bug ladyâ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm.Â
So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few.Â
It wasnât until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book.Â
âBuggy!â The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the âgsyâ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. âBuggy, look,âÂ
She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation.Â
âThankyou, Henry,â She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. âWhat should we call him?âÂ
âSidâdâsnail,â Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.
âHi Sid,â She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henryâs back was turned to find Sid a friend.Â
She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emilyâs alive, Emilyâs alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emilyâs still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words.Â
She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emilyâs âdeathâ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said âJennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.â
But she couldnât. She couldnât betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised.Â
So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.
JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse.Â
Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. Heâd found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the womenâs bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned heâd seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadnât messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out.Â
Aaron was convinced if this didnât work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit.Â
Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. Heâd watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldnât.Â
He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, âBugsy, I know youâre in there. The team are worried about you, theyâre worried youâre hurt,âÂ
Nothing.Â
And it wasnât just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of.Â
âBugsy, if you donât answer Iâm sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,â He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasnât lying, not by a long shot.Â
He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver.Â
He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out. Â
âStop yelling,â She murmured, almost bitterly, âYouâre scaring the cats,âÂ
âYouâre scaring us,â He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasnât working, âPlease, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,â
âThatâs a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,â She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then.Â
âGet your work out clothes on, weâre going for a run,â He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, âIâm not asking,âÂ
âFuck off,â She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didnât want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out.Â
She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle.Â
âYou are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.â Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.
âOf all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,â It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like heâd been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before.Â
âOfcourse, I understand,â His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, âYou think I donât know what itâs like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I canât, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,â His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, âBut I do it because Jack needs me-â
âNo body needs me,â She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise.Â
âYes we do,â Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, âWe need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,âÂ
And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished.Â
He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack.Â
And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies sheâd stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.
If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese.Â
Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this.Â
It wasnât going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her.Â
So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And sheâd agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).
âNow as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of SĂŠmillon, why donât you chop up that pork and Iâll get started on the sauce.â He handed her a sharpened butcherâs knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, âYouâre gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,âÂ
âThick and creamy, you got it,â She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, âDid you want this as diced or Julian?â
âDo you mean julienne?âÂ
âThatâs what I just said,â He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid.Â
âDiced, if you would,â David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty.Â
âYes, Chef,â She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, âSo, Iâm guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-â
David frowned, âMaybe not so harsh on the tongue but-â He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why sheâd thrown the expletive out there.Â
Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her.Â
âEmily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please donât, please- Someone get medical, sheâs bleeding-â
Davidâs hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emilyâs blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now.Â
âIâm fine,â She said on a reflex, even though he hadnât asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, âDavid, Iâm totally fine, itâs just a little scratch,â
âYou have to let me go,â Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"
âDavid, Iâm fine, stop worrying,â She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way sheâd started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound.Â
She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and familyâs took care of one another. She couldnât live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too.Â
Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emilyâs butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork sheâd been julienning.Â
âItâs okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You donât have to lie and pretend it doesnât hurt if it does,â David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol.Â
She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips.Â
âItâs okay if you need a little help once in a while,â He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried heâd spook her with the first real conversation theyâd had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. âRather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.âÂ
âIs that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?â She sniffed, hoping he didnât see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile.Â
âRichard Carlson.â He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldnât snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, âIâll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, thatâs just as bad as instant noodles in my books. Thatâs like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, itâs madness,âÂ
And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks.Â
While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when heâd asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.
She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said theyâd even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway.Â
It had been going fine, theyâd gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and sheâd even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in.Â
Heâd turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and sheâd been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didnât notice until an hour later.Â
âWhere did you go, kid?â Heâd asked, and sheâd shrugged like it was nothing.Â
âNeeded the bathroom,â She said, and he hadnât even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than sheâd had in months.Â
She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was.Â
But she couldnât stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldnât stop seeing Emilyâs face now she could actually sleep again.Â
Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door.Â
It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time.Â
But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadnât stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadnât stopped thinking about for the past three years.Â
âSpencerrrrrrr!â She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morganâs as if heâd all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab.Â
She wasnât stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasnât that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like heâd suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed.Â
It wasnât until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and heâd pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was.Â
âSpencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!â And usually heâd love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans.Â
âWhat did she take?â He ignored her little hums of a song he couldnât hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. âMorgan!âÂ
Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.Â
âI donât know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and sheâs shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I donât know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,â Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencerâs eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth.Â
âHey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,â He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, âDo you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,â
âYou always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,â She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldnât budge, not until he got a real answer, âCome on, Iâm going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think Iâm pretty Spence? I think youâre pretty, I think youâre super pretty,â
They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldnât really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with.Â
Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought.Â
This never happened.Â
Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadnât acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasnât who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning.Â
That wasnât an option in Spencerâs books, nor was it in Morganâs.Â
So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadnât quite sounded as teasing as heâd intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage.Â
Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didnât quite care enough to say anything other than, âI missed you so much,â As she pushed her face into his neck more.Â
He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where sheâd left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom.Â
âStay right here, Iâll be right back,â But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadnât just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, âI missed you so much, too, Bug,â
And he wasnât lying. Not even a little bit.Â
She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down.Â
It wasnât until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldnât be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her.Â
âBug, Iâm getting you-â
âCome lay down with me, letâs talk. I love talking to you, why havenât we talked in so long?â She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought.Â
Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her.Â
âYou moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didnât want to stop you,â He said gently, like he didnât want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like heâd told her a joke.Â
âOh, yeah. But I didnât really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,â Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, âI missed you so much,â
His brow furrowed, âWhat do you mean you didnât want to go home?â But she wasnât listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, âBug,âÂ
âHm?âÂ
âWhat do you mean you didnât want to go home? Why did you leave?â He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks.Â
âI thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.â She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, âBut I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldnât do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,âÂ
His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like heâd hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter sheâd written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her.Â
He felt like a fool.Â
âNo, no,â Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, âThatâs not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.âÂ
âReally?â She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, âI liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,âÂ
It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didnât know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth.Â
He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly.Â
âThat feels nice, Spencer,â She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, âYou feel so nice, I love you so much.âÂ
He would be lying if he said the sounds she was making didnât shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldnât feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.
âI love you too,â Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldnât shut him out so easily, wishing heâd pushed her walls a little harder.Â
Then she did something he wasnât expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock.Â
She kissed him. She had kissed him.Â
And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill sheâd taken had acted like a truth serum.
âWeâre so silly,â Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after sheâd switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again.Â
Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together.Â
But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep.Â
He guessed heâd have to tell her tomorrow.Â
â
taglist:
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @sadbae-33
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#matthew grey gubler x reader
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Maybe in Another Life |17 - Final|
Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Reader
Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.5k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17
It had been a couple days since the battle of Manhattan, and you were fully healed. Apollo had saved your life, but you still ached like crazy after, you fell asleep pretty much as soon as you got to the cabin when you and the others arrived at camp. The first night back was one full of celebration, all the cabins came together, partying and cheering each other on. Even the demigods who had sided with Luke were welcomed back, at least those that lived and realized the error of their ways.Â
The second day though, was one filled with grief and mourning. Everyone had been so excited to win the war, no one truly knew how things would actually go, there had been a real possibility of Kronos winning. After the win, after the celebrating, it finally hit everyone, they might have won the war, but it came at a great cost. Every cabin lost members, everyone lost someone, whether it be a friend or sibling. You might have been saved by Apollo but many were not, many Hunters had not been. You werenât sure if the poison made you lucky, dying slowly was the only reason you were still alive at the end to even have the chance at being healed.Â
Apollo might have been annoying, but you didnât take him saving you lightly. You were as good as dead until Apollo intervened, there was no reason for him to do that, other than he simply liked you. You owed him everything, you owed it to your sisters who didnât get the chance to continue on. You owed everyone who didnât make it, you would spend the rest of your life dedicating yourself to making sure Apollos gift wasnât in vain, that you deserved this second chance at life.Â
You hadnât seen Clarisse much since getting back to camp. She helped you to your cabin and then left you, after you insisted she go enjoy the night. The next morning at breakfast she came over to check on you but then quickly went back to her table. Breakfast was depressing that day, everyone sat quietly at their tables, no one was making jokes or being rowdy. There was a somber mood that coated the entire camp that day. The next few meals got louder and louder until there was a consistent amount of chatter amongst the demigods.Â
You had only seen Clarisse at meals though, usually across the pavilion. Youâd be at Artemisâs table with your sisters, and youâd look up, meeting Clarisseâs gaze, who was seated with her siblings at the Ares table. Clarisse had lost her best friend, you wanted to be there for her, you remembered what it was like losing Zoe. You didnât want to push her though; Clarisse wasnât exactly the type to be open about her feelings. You silently made it known you were there for her, if she wanted to talk, she could come to you, but if she wanted her space, youâd happily give that to her as well.Â
You threw yourself into training as soon as you were able. You spent your days on the training grounds, shooting arrows or swinging a sword at the dummies. You said it was to stay in fighting shape, just something to help your recover but every time you slashed your sword at a dummy you saw the faces of your sisters, the faces of all those lost.Â
âHey,â Thalia called out, just as you dealt another hard blow to the wood dummy. You turned to face her, sheathing your sword in the process. âJust got word from Artemis.â Your heart dropped at that, that meant you were leaving soon. As much as you were ready to leave Camp Half-Blood, you werenât ready, you hadnât had a real conversation with Clarisse yet. âWe leave tomorrow.âÂ
You gave a small nod. âWell, Iâm always packed,â you said.Â
You turned back around, facing the dummy. You put your hand on the hilt of the sword, intending to draw it again and continue your training. âYou should say any goodbyes tonight,â Thaliaâs voice made you freeze. âWeâre leaving at sunrise.âÂ
You didnât turn around; you just turned your head enough to see Thalia out of the corner of your eye. âThank you,â is all you said.Â
When you heard Thalia finally walking away you drew your sword and continued on with your training. You knew it was your last day to talk to Clarisse, but you didnât know where to start, so you trained. You trained for hours, ignoring the other campers as they came and went, ignoring as lunch time came and went, ignoring as dinner time came and went. You finally stopped when the only light in the sky was from the stars.Â
You looked up, your eyes instantly going to Zoeâs constellation. You sighed; you knew what you had to do. Even if Zoe wouldnât have approved of your feelings for Clarisse, she definitely would have called you out for avoiding the girl just because you were scared. You once again sheathed your sword and made your way off the training grounds. You made your way to your cabin to put away your weapons, then you were going to go to the bonfire you knew the campers were having. It would be the last bonfire for all the Hunters there and you figured Clarisse would be there.Â
After putting your stuff away and getting cleaned up you made your way to the bonfire. By the time you got there the party was in full swing, demigods were all paired off or in groups talking with one another. You saw most of your sisters there as well, most of them branching out and talking to other campers by this point. You passed by Percy and Annabeth, making sure to give Annabeth a small nod and completely ignore Percy, not even bothering to turn when you caught him frowning. You made eye contact with Thalia across the fire who gave you a small nod. You saw everyone, everyone besides Clarisse, the one person you had actually wanted to see.Â
You soon left the bonfire, knowing there was one other place Clarisse might be. You made your way through the camp until you came to the Ares cabin. The cabin was dark and not a single sound came from it, most would assume no one was home but that didnât stop you from walking up the steps and knocking on the door.Â
It took a moment, but you finally heard shuffling and then the door creaking. âHey,â you breathed out when you saw Clarisse standing before you.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â Clarisse asked, she crossed her arms, but she didnât sound angry.Â
âWeâre leaving tomorrow.âÂ
Clarisse nodded, suddenly refusing to look you in the eye. âI heard.âÂ
âI needed to say goodbye.âÂ
You reached up to grab Clarisseâs hand but paused midair, questioning your decision. You saw Clarisse eyeing your hand out of the corner of her eye. When she didnât pull away or make any move saying she didnât want you to touch her you got over your nerves and continued. You gently grabbed her hand, letting her arms fall to her side as you swung your clasped hands between the two of you, gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with your thumb.Â
âIâm sorry,â you whispered.Â
âWe both knew this day was coming,â she sighed. She looked up, giving you a sad smile.Â
âYeah,â you sighed, returning her smile. âUntil we meet again.âÂ
Clarisse tugged you by the hand, pulling you in for a hug. You were sure she would never seem so vulnerable out in the open, the two of you were standing on the porch of the Ares cabin, anyone walking by could see the two of you. You knew everyone was at the bonfire though and theyâd be there all night. You werenât sure how long the two of you stayed there, you just hugged each other, enjoying the comforting silence.Â
When you finally parted Clarisse went back into her cabin and you walked back to Artemisâs. You werenât in the mood for a bonfire. As soon as you walked through the door you kicked off your boots and laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. The odds were that once you left camp, youâd never see Clarisse again. Clarisse graduated next year, meaning she probably wouldnât be at Camp Half-Blood anymore, even if that wasnât the case, it wasnât often the Hunters came to camp. The war was fought and won, there was no reason for you guys to come back to the camp as often as you had in recent years. Unless you ran into her on a quest this would be the last night you saw Clarisse.Â
The next morning you made your way to the top of the hill with your sisters. Your sisters crossed over the barrier, making their way down the other side of the hill. You were about to follow when you caught Clarisse running towards you out of the corner of your eye. âGive me a second?â you asked, looking at Thalia. Thalia nodded, then walked away enough to be out of earshot.Â
âI just...â Clarisse started when she got to you. âI just wanted to say goodbye.âÂ
You smiled. âGoodbye,â you whispered. You reached out, offering her your arm which she hesitantly took, gripping your forearm. You pulled her forward, resting your forehead against hers. âUntil the next life,â you whispered.Â
You heard Clarisse let out a shaky breath and felt her give a small nod. âIâll hold you too that,â she whispered. You couldnât help but smile at her words.Â
The two of you stayed like that for a second before you both of you finally, though reluctantly, pulled away. She walked backwards down the hill until she finally turned around, jogging down the rest of the way. Your eyes followed her the entire time, you intended to watch her until she disappeared from your view. You felt the air change and the hair on your arm stand up, you gave a sad smile, knowing it was time to leave.Â
âYouâre older,â you said, not even bothering to turn around. You knew who was behind you, you always knew when she was near, you could always feel her presence.Â
âI know you feel weird when I look like a child,â Artemis said.Â
âItâs just a little weird to be getting advice or be given orders by a twelve-year-old.â You chuckled before finally turning around to face Artemis.Â
She looked similar to how she always did, however instead of taking on the appearance of a twelve-year-old she made herself look a little older, made herself to look around your age. It wasnât often Artemis changed her appearance, she hardly ever made herself look older. Given the fact that sheâs taken on this appearance to talk to you, even though you were all supposed to leave in a few minutes, didnât seem like a good sign.Â
You turned away from Artemis again, looking back over camp from the top of the hill. You had done this a hundred times, you had left camp without so much as a glance back, you despised Camp Half-Blood, you always looked forward to leaving, except now. It seemed camp was getting harder and harder for you to walk away from, you couldnât help but assume it had to do with the daughter of Ares. Your eyes found Clarisse, walking down the hill, getting further away from you.Â
âIâm releasing you from your oath.,â Artemis said softly but instantly breaking you from your thoughts.Â
âWhat?â you asked, turning around. You looked at her with wide eyes, you werenât sure you had heard her right.Â
âYou deserve to be happy.â she gave you a kind smile. She didnât need to repeat herself, you really had heard her correctly, that didnât make you any less confused though.Â
âI am happy,â you insisted, stepping closer to Artemis. âIâve always been happy with you, with my sisters.â You werenât sure why she was doing this, you had remained loyal, you never broke your oath, you didnât know why she was abandoning you now, you thought you had done everything right, you tried to do everything right.Â
âI know,â she sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder. âBut now your heart isnât in it anymore,â she gave you a sad smile. Your eyes fell, she was right, she was always right. âYou have been a great second to my lieutenants, to Zoe and then to Thalia. Youâve been an even better friend and confidant these last thousand years.âÂ
You glanced up to see Artemis not looking at you but down the hill at Clarisse. âIâve seen you two together, you have strong feelings,â Artemis said softly, no animosity in her voice. âYou have been willing to ignore those feelings, to sacrifice what you want, to honor your oath.â Your eyes fell once again, the feeling that youâve disappointed your goddess washed over you. âI am not disappointed in you.â You looked up, your eyes widening, it was like Artemis had read your mind. She had always been good at reading you though. âYou have fought admirably by my side. I will miss you,â she gave you a sad smile. âBut I want you to be happy.âÂ
You looked back down at Clarisse, watching her slowly disappear from your sight. âDo you want to be with her?â Artemis asked.Â
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Despite the conversation going on you were caught off guard by Artemisâs question. âI am loyal to you,â you found yourself saying. It didnât matter what you wanted or what you felt, you were loyal to Artemis.Â
âI know. You have never once wavered. I am not angry,â she smiled, so you knew her words were true. âYou have stayed the course and pushed away your temptations and desires better than anyone.â Despite her words, despite knowing Artemis wouldnât lie, if she was angry or felt you betrayed her, she wouldnât bother with this conversation, sheâd just punish you. Despite all that, you still felt like you had failed her.Â
âDo you want her?â she asked again.Â
âI-yes,â you whispered. There it was, you said it, it was the first time you admitted it out loud.Â
âI am releasing you. You will no longer be immortal, but you are free to be with her, to love her, to live a new life, one that you choose.âÂ
âI donât know what to do without you.â You had been with Artemis and the Hunters for so long, you barely remembered your mortal life.Â
âIâm not abandoning you; I will be there if you need me, you will always be my friend, and a sister.â That brought you some comfort, you knew Artemis still kept in contact with the few people she did let leave but you never expected her to do the same to you.Â
âAre you sure?âÂ
âBelieve it or not just because I reject love does not mean I donât want my Hunters to be happy,â Artemis chuckled lightly.  You couldnât help but smile as well, Artemis could be harsh, but she did truly want her Hunters to be happy. âIf thatâs what they ultimately desire, so long as they donât break my trust.âÂ
âThank you.âÂ
âNo, thank you. Thank you for a thousand years of service.â Artemis stepped forward and gently rested her forehead against yours. She brought a hand to the back of your neck, then she slowly began taking away the gifts bestowed upon you, leaving you mortal once again when she pulled away.Â
âI can never repay you for all that youâve done for me.âÂ
âYou donât have to; youâve done more than enough.âÂ
âThank you, for everything, truly.âÂ
Artemis gave a small nod. She looked down the hill at the Hunters waiting for her then back to you. âAlso, it might be unconventional but feel free to continue to stay in Cabin Eight.âÂ
You couldnât help but chuckle at that. âI appreciate that.â Artemis didnât have to allow that, but you appreciated that she did. You were a child of Nike and despite Percyâs terms Nike didnât have a cabin yet. You would have been stuck in the Hermes cabin and that was certainly not what you wanted; you would have rather set up a tent outside.Â
âItâs been an honor and a pleasure,â you said. âFighting by your side, my goddess.â You held out your arm and Artemis gripped your forearm giving it a firm shake before making her way down to the Hunters.Â
Lastly, Thalia appeared beside you. âIâm never going to find another second like you,â she said.Â
You smiled at the comment, giving a shy nod. âThatâs true,â you said cockily.Â
Thalia smacked you on the side of the arm before giving her own goodbye. âI owe you my life,â she whispered.Â
You gave a little shrug. âJust doing my job.âÂ
Thalia tilted her head, narrowing her eyes slightly at you. âYou deserve this, you know?â You scrunched your eyebrows, tilting your head in question. âTo be happy,â she clarified. You sucked in a breath, giving her a small nod. âThereâs nothing to feel guilty about, Zoe would understand.âÂ
Your eyes widened slightly, that was always something you worried about. Zoe might have been gone but you were constantly worried about disappointing her. You knew how much the Hunters meant to her, how seriously she took the oath, she was the one that had been by your side since the beginning, walking away now almost felt like a betrayal. Zoe was like Artemis though, she never thought less of those who wanted to leave the Hunters, so long as they didnât break their oath to do so.Â
âThank you,â you whispered.Â
Thalia gave you a final nod before running off to join the rest of the Hunters. You stood at the top of the hill, giving them all one final wave before watching them take off into the woods. You turned around, looking back down at camp, you let out a shaky breath before making your way back down the hill, intending to find Clarisse.Â
You didnât have to try too hard to find Clarisse, she was where she was the majority of the time, on the training grounds. She wasnât in the middle of training though, her back was to you, and she was talking to Percy and Annabeth.Â
âI thought you left?â Percy questioned when his eyes landed on you.Â
âChange of plans,â you said.Â
Annabeth tilted her head, her eyes flicking from you to Clarisse, and you could swear a small smirked appeared on her lips. You saw Clarisseâs body stiffen before turning to face you. âDidnât Artemis arrive this morning?â Clarisse questioned.Â
âShe did,â you confirmed with a nod.Â
âThen what are you-âÂ
âShe and the Hunters just left,â you cut her off.Â
You watched as her brow furrowed then her eyes widened in realization. âWhat does that mean?â she asked quietly, like she was nervous to hear your answer.Â
âIt means,â you hesitantly stepped forward. You were only partially aware of Annabeth dragging a confused Percy away. âIâve been released from my oath,â you let out in a shaky breath. You reached out, ignoring the way your hand shook, and took Clarisseâs hand in your own.Â
âYouâre not a Hunter anymore?â You could see the hope in Clarisseâs eyes.Â
You shook your head, giving her a shy smile. âI hope thatâs okay?â Despite having feelings for her and knowing she had feelings for you, you werenât sure if this was actually something she wanted.Â
Clarisse crashed into you, wrapping you up in a tight hug. âOf course itâs okay,â she mumbled into your neck.Â
You instantly wrapped your hands around her waist, pulling her closer. She pulled away just enough to rest her forehead against yours, your noses lightly brushing against each other, both of you hesitating to lean in. âIâve never done anything like this before,â you whispered. This was all new to you, you might not have minded Apolloâs flirting, but you still had never crossed any of these lines before, you had never felt anything like this, even before joining the Hunters.Â
âMe either,â Clarisse whispered back. Your shoulders relaxed at that. You knew she had a crush on Chris but knowing the rest of this was all knew to her definitely eased your nerves a bit.Â
Clarisse finally closed the distance, kissing you. For a split second you froze but quickly gave in, kissing Clarisse back. You both smiled into the kiss as it got more intense. When the two of you broke apart, Clarisse rested her forehead on yours again, both of you smiling like crazy.Â
Clarisse swung an arm around your neck, and you swung your arm around her waist as the two of you began to walk off the training area. You ignored the way Percyâs mouth was hung open and his eye practically coming out of his head and the way Annabeth was smirking as the two of you passed them.Â
Taglist: @cxcilla @danonered @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world @death-in-love @nenas19 @mynameiskaci @fictionalwhor3
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse x reader#pjo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#maybe in another life
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hihi!! really love the mini nct-mafia universe that youâve created 𼚠i was hoping if you could write jaemin next..i was thinking of jaemin being a little cold to others but only soft towards y/n (and of course jeno)..iâll leave the plot up to you but i thought itâll be cute if thereâs a scene where y/n helps to undress jaemin to take care of him..so like angst/fluff/suggestive all blended in one! thank you and iâm sorry if itâs so specific đĽ˛đĽ˛
Trauma - Mafia! Na Jaemin x Innocent! Fem Reader
A/N: Hi anon!! Thank you for requesting the fic! I actually was already planning to write for mafia Jaemin and since you requested him as well, it motivated me even more to write!
Also, apologies if I took way too long and if the story isn't how you actually want it to go but I do hope that you enjoy it as much as I wrote it. There are lots of heavy trigger warnings that you have to pay attention to!
Trigger Warning: trauma experience, character death (not MC), grief, revenge, murder, blood loss, torture (excessive), explosion. -> I'm sorry if this isn't all but I will try to update it in case I missed anything
Synopsis: Being the son of the famous Nam Goongmin came with a heavy price to pay for Jaemin. Though Taeyong managed to get Jaemin out of his fatherâs mafia business and helped him to heal, there was still some trauma that Jaemin had yet to face. Until he came across a girl that he would soon learn that he can't always run from his problems
Water to Fire. Winter to Spring. Sunshine to Rain. They were all opposites of each other yet people kept on saying that opposites then to attract one another. Jaemin had never believed such things until he saw his parents. His father was the ruthless mafia whereas his mother was a kindhearted school teacher. Despite their contradicting characteristics, they were like magnets and attracted each other in a good way just like sunshine and rain coming together to create a rainbow.
Though Jaemin knew that his father didnât have the best job, being one of the most feared mafia in South Korea before NCT became a thing was a reputation that Jaemin had to live for years until his mother passed away; and not in a peaceful way.
Jaemin knew that with the amount of power and wealth his father had, came all the enemies as well. Enemies who either wanted his father dead for hundreds of different reasons. Murder. Fraud. Stealing. Jaemin didnât know how far his father was in crime because his mother made sure that he wouldnât have to see his father at one of the most gruesome scenes that might as well come from the action/thriller drama that he watched.
Sadly, those moments were all but just memories to Jaemin. Everything happened as quickly as his memories could remember. One sunny morning, the day before Jaeminâs 18th birthday, he was going off to school and the same evening he went back home, it started raining but he still went home smiling knowing that he got a perfect score on his biology test, a recommendation letter from all of his science teacher and that his mom promised that they would bake today.
But when he arrived at the front door, Jaemin knew that something was wrong. Quietly, Jaemin took off his shoes and took the nearest thing that he could use as a weapon and went in. Though Jaemin was sheltered from the gruesome life of his father, the old man actually taught him every self-defence technique he knew. From hand-to-hand combat to even using a gun, Jaemin knew it all. But what his father had not taught him was how to cope with his feelings or a life that he took with his own hands.
That day will forever haunt Jaeminâs memory as the day of his first kill, the day of his motherâs death, and the day that he knew that he was his fatherâs son. When Jaeminâs father came home that night, he was just as distraught as his son. Both instantly mourn the loss of their beloved wife and mother. It was the first time that Jaeminâs dad actually let Jaemin into the horrifying world that he lived in.
Out for revenge, Jaemin had no mercy for anyone who would prevent him or his father from getting back at the one who took the light out of their dark thoughts. But even when Jaemin finally got a taste of revenge. It didnât satisfy him and instead, he quickly realised his actions before it was too late.
His mother taught him better. His mother always taught him to never hate anyone as most people who do evil things were also once good. So Jaemin did what he could do. Run. Jaemin ran away from all his dark side; his father.
Jaemin knew that no matter how far or fast he ran, his father would always find him. But it seemed that his mother mustâve sent some guardian angels because right as Jaemin was cornered by some of his fatherâs most trusted men, some other men came and saved Jaemin, killing his fatherâs men in the process.
It was that day did Jaemin joined Taeyong into NCT and became one of the core members of NCT. But unlike the other members who also have daytime jobs, Jaemin prefers to just stay at the base and stand by whilst studying medicine with Kun. Though Taeyong still forces Jaemin to go follow Jeno along because Jeno was one of the only members that Jaemin talks to and eventually Jeno manages to convince Jaemin to at least intern and later work in NCTâs hospital under Kun on the early morning of weekdays.
For the most part of Jaeminâs life in NCT, not once did he ever complain. Not once did Jaemin want something more like his friend Jeno who is a famous racer. Not once did Jaemin ever go against NCTâs leader, Taeyong, like sometimes Haechan did. Though Jaemin has become more social than his first year in NCT, Taeyong has yet to completely understand Jaemin.
In reality, Jaemin stayed with NCT because he hoped that one day if he were to have to face his father again, he would face him without being scared. After years of being with NCT and even becoming a surgeon in Neo Hospital under Kun, Jaemin slowly finds a new routine and he slowly finds that by helping other people, it relieves a part of him that remembers all the bad things his father had done towards multiple innocent people.
As days passed, Jaemin has slowly forgotten about meeting his father again. Instead, Jaemin wants to avoid having to meet his father ever again if it were possible. Jaemin was content with the life he has now and wants to continue to just live his life without the constant worry of having to deal with his father or the mess he made; at least, until a recent patient that he had to deal with.
It was in the middle of a weekend night, right when Taeyong suddenly dismissed him and told Jaemin to just go back home despite Taeyong just finished torturing a guy who kidnapped the intern for Neo-Tech and helped build the Satellite tracker.
But right as Jaemin was about to go back to his place, Jeno suddenly called him and said that there was a sudden accident right when he and his girlfriend were on their way home and some weird men were chasing an injured girl.
âI got no idea why they were chasing them but I figured to call you not only to help the girl but I also feel that you should know. Those weird men mentioned that they were under your fatherâs nameâ Jeno mentioned, making Jaemin stop in his tracks
âIâm on my way. Iâll call the nurse to handle it before I get there. Just drive to the emergency entranceâ Jaemin replied, turning off his call with Jeno, going into his car and rushing to the hospital
Along the way, Jaemin called the nurse in his hospital and told them to go to the emergency room and help a girl that Jeno was bringing. Jaemin also told the nurse to ask for Kun to help before he arrived there.
Within minutes, Jaemin arrived at the hospital and immediately went to get changed and head to the surgery room. Before going in, Jaemin saw Jeno who was bloody with his girlfriend sitting by the entrance. âJaemâŚâ Jeno called out to his friend who was just about to head into the surgery room.
âYou should take her home. I can handle it hereâ Jaemin replied but Jeno seemed hesitant. âYour girlfriend is practically asleep, Jen. Youâre also covered with blood. Plus Iâm not alone. Kun-hyung is here. Goâ Jaemin reassured Jeno who stood up, carrying his sleeping girlfriend
âCall me if anything happens. Iâm not just a member. Iâm your friend, tooâ Jeno mentioned before Jaemin went into the surgery room
In the surgery room, Jaemin apologised to Kun for being late but Kun didnât question him. âIâll question you after the surgery. Jeno came in here bloody and said that you wouldnât want anyone outside of NCT to know about thisâ Kun mentioned
âProbably for the bestâ Jaemin replied and immediately got to work with Kun
Because Jeno managed to stop the bleeding by using a cloth and putting pressure on it, Jaemin and Kun managed to stitch up the girl with no problem. But aside from the deep wound, Jaemin noticed that the girl also had several bruises all over her body, a cut lip, and even a few fractured bones.
After moving the girl into a secluded patient room, Kun and Jaemin went into Kunâs office where Kun made a cup of warm tea before getting into the talk. âI wonât tell Taeyong if you donât want me toâ Kun reassured Jaemin who has been quiet since the surgery
âSheâs related to my fatherâ Jaemin mentioned, making Kun stop drinking his drink and look at the younger one. âNot in a way that you would think. Jeno said that she was being chased by some men. When Jeno got to her, she was already bruised and everything. Jeno thought that he was just helping someone but didnât realise until too late that the men were working for my fatherâ Jaemin explained
âYou know. Youâre not really obligated to actually find out about her or her relationship with your father if you donât want to. You can always just ignore her and think that you never met herâ Kun mentioned. âIâm not saying that you should run away from your problems butâŚâ Kun added but Jaemin stopped him
âI know that someday Iâm going to have to face him again after all these years. If so, I might as well get it over with. Thanks hyung, but Iâm going to try and find out and maybe face my father. All I ask is to not tell Taeyong-hyung about it until Iâm sure that she truly has something to do with my fatherâ Jaemin mentioned, leaving Kun to see the girl
Jaeminâs POV
Reaching the girlâs room, I went in and received an overview of her profile from Haechan. âYou owe me big. Taeyong-hyung almost caught me for thisâ. Going over her profile, I noticed that the girl, (y/n) has gone through a rough childhood.
â3 different foster homes in the span of 20 years?! Geez. Either she was trouble or those foster homes are actually as shitty as I knowâ I thought to myself, glancing over (y/n) who was sweating and whimpering.
Turning off the screen to my tab, I walked closer. Grabbing a soft cloth, I started to wipe the sweat that was building up on her forehead until I was close enough to hear her whimpers.
âp-pleaseâŚâ (y/n) whimpered. âleave my mom alone. Let me goâ (y/n) suddenly screamed, jolting from the bed
âHey, hey, no one is going to hurt youâ I mentioned, looking at (y/n) who was now sitting, her chest was going up and down faster than normal
âYouâre alright but I would suggest you to rest again. Letâs put you to sleep againâ I mentioned, coming closer but she flinched when my hand was just reaching her shoulders
Sighing, I pulled my hands away and tucked them into my pockets. âLook. Iâm a doctor here. Iâm not going to hurt you or anything. If I was going to hurt you, Iâd done it alreadyâ I bluntly mentioned as (y/n) just eyed me from top to bottom
âJaeminâŚâ she read my nametag. âYou look like him. I, I thoughtâŚâ (y/n) finally said a sentence
âWho? Who do I look like? What were you thinking if I look like someone?â I asked but (y/n) didnât utter another word. âDo I look like Nam Goongmin?â I asked, the name felt foreign that my voice cracked a bit but luckily, I got some kind of answer as (y/n) nodded
âYouâve met him beforeâ I mentioned. It wasnât a question
Another nod which made my next sigh rougher than the previous one. âLook, if you have anything to say to me regarding him, just tell me. Or if you know about him. Or if youâre involved with him. Iâm not a mind readerâ I rambled
âHe mentioned your name beforeâ (y/n) finally said something again but I didnât cut her off. I wanted her to keep talking. âHe mentioned that I reminded him of his son. How I wasnât considerate and thankful that he helped me find a foster home b-butâŚâ (y/n) started to cry
âHe helped you look for a foster home? But why? Sorry for being blunt but I doubt that he would let himself get involved with someone like you unless you or someone you know is involved with himâ I mentioned
âH-he, he killed my dad and then my mom. He killed them because they worked for him but eventually cut ties with himâ (y/n) cried, probably remembering the dark times she had to face
âWhat do you remember?â I asked, handing a clean cloth for her to wipe her tears
âMy dad was his colleague. He helped supply the things that Nam Goongmin couldnât easily get his hands on. But when I reached a certain age, my dad just cut ties with himâ (y/n) added
âWere you home when your parents were killed?â I asked and (y/n) nodded
âMy parents hid me, along with files of Nam Goongmin. Files that if they were to be released to the public, would ruin everything that he had builtâ (y/n) replied, perking up my interest
âWhen was the last time you saw him?â I asked, wanting to know more
âMonths ago. He found me while I was working at a convenience store late at night. I didnât know who he was at first until he brought up my parentsâ nameâ (y/n) replied. âAt first, he didnât ask the files. He just told me about his history with my dad which honestly shocked me. I was so scared that he would do something to me but instead, he just leftâ
âBut you mentioned that you were in foster homes? Did you run away?â I asked
âEver since my parents passed away, which was when I was 14, I was put in an adoption center but turns out I was put into foster homes. At first, I didnât notice anything strange until one night in my first foster home, I heard him again. I ran away after finding out. I was then put into another foster home at 15 but it was the same thing. I found out they were associated with him and ran away. The last one was the most brutal one. They didnât sugarcoat anything and I was treated like a slave until I told them where I hid the file. When I saw a chance, I ran away once again. I managed to hide from them for the past 2 years because I ran away by the time I reached 18 years old and started working part-time in a few places. Up until now at leastâ (y/n) ended her story
âSo, where did you actually hide the files then?â I asked as (y/n) just looked at me
âDonât you think itâs only fair that I ask you after explaining to you, not knowing if I can trust you or notâ (y/n) mentioned
âNam GoongminâŚheâs my fatherâ I mentioned, shocking (y/n)
The next morning rolled around quicker than I wanted. I ended up not going back home and stayed in (y/n)âs room since I was the one who booked her the VIP room. While (y/n) was sleeping, I checked on all the files that Haechan sent me just to double-check her background because she could be lying and actually working with my father.
Jeno came along with Renjun and Haechan, bringing something for me to eat which I realised that I hadnât eaten anything since the surgery the other night. The four of us sat in my office as I told them about what happened the other night.
âSo her story and what Haechan sent you checked out? Sheâs not lying?â Renjun asked, munching on the burger that he bought upon coming to the hospital
âAs far as I read the background. Yeah. Unless you have something else up your sleeve, Haechan?â I asked, looking over to him who was stuffing his face with french fries
âThatâs all I found. And Iâve used the big bois. Perks of having parents that used to be in the mafia I supposed. Can manipulate what information would be put out there well until they were dead at leastâ Haechan shrugged
âWhat are you planning to do then, Jaem? I mean, you used to say that you donât want to get involved with your dad ever again. What changed?â Jeno asked but I too didnât quite have the answer yet
âPart of me doesnât like the idea of what dad has become. Regardless, he was still my father and he honestly raised me well. He was there for my childhood. It was truly like he wanted me in his life. But when my mom was killed, guess thatâs when he went haywire and made a killing spree. I want him to atone for what he did. Killing innocent people is wrong and he had never done it until my mom passed awayâ I mentioned
âSo, you want to put him behind bars?â Haechan asked
âItâs more complicatedâŚâ I mumbled when a knock was heard. âWho is it?â I asked, standing from my seat, eyeing my members who suddenly went serious mode
âDr Na, your patient is here to see youâ the nurse exclaimed, making my members sigh of relief
âYes, of course. Just bring her inâ I mentioned and the nurse brought (y/n) on a wheelchair into my office. âIâll handle it from here, you can leaveâ I told the nurse
âSo this is the famous (y/n)â Haechan smirked while I instantly eyed him, helping (y/n) into my office
âIgnore him, heâs always that playful. Iâm Renjun, thatâs Jeno over thereâ Renjun mentioned, giving a smile at (y/n). The same goes for Jeno
âYouâre the one that helped me!â (y/n) exclaimed as Jeno nodded. âThat would be me. Iâm glad that youâre alright now. Also, I know Jaemin might seem cold and unapproachable but heâs pretty niceâ Jeno mentioned, making me groan
âI never got to thank you. Thank you, for saving me. If you hadnât, I wouldâveâŚâ (y/n) rambled but Jeno shook his head. âDonât worry about it. Thank Jaemin as well for saving you. I just helped a bit. Heâs the saviour here. I mean, heâs dubbed the miracle doctor here because the amount of times Jaemin has been able to save people who are in critical condition is crazyâ Jeno mentioned, which honestly made me flustered
âI think Iâm just lucky this time, to be able to meet kind people to help meâ (y/n) shyly stated
âItâs not luck. No one deserves to die honestly. Anyways, you can trust my friends here. They, they know about my history with my fatherâ I stated. âYou can tell us where you hid the files and weâll help retrieve them. I promise that thereâs nothing to worry about. Youâre completely safe hereâ I added on, making (y/n) smiled
âThank youâ (y/n) uttered. âBut Iâm sorry that this might seem like Iâm asking a lot but actually, I hid it at my old house. The one where I used to live with my parents. I figure that it would be the best place to hide it since Nam Goongmin wouldnât think to look at an old abandoned house where he killed people that he probably donât rememberâ (y/n) explained and I looked over at Haechan who was still stuffing his face with food but his face was serious as he was typing away on his computer
âIs this the house?â Haechan asked, showing us all his laptop that showed a house. âY-yeah, how did you?â (y/n) asked but Haechan shrugged. âItâs one of my many talentsâ
âAlright then, we should leave tonight. Itâll be easier so we wonât be seenâ Jeno pointed out and the others started to pack their things. âIâll also fill in Yangyang and Shotaro on our plan so that they could help with the file. Haechan, you, Renjun and Shotaro should prepare on the equipment we need. Iâll ask Yangyang for a vehicle andâŚâ Jeno added but (y/n) cut him off
âIs, is it alright if I come along? I mean. Iâm the one that knows where itâs hidden. Plus. I, I want to get something from the houseâ (y/n) asked
âHonestly, I donât think it would be the best idea for you to come. Youâre still injured andâŚâ Jeno replied
âI just want to get my old family photobook. I promise thatâs itâ (y/n) argued
âI think itâs alright if she goes. Weâll all be there and Iâll keep a watch on her and then get her out as soon as she gets her photobookâ I added on, making Jeno sigh
âFine. But we have to move quickly. Taeyong-hyung doesnât know about this and even if he does, we have to be fast, alright?â Jeno stated and everyone nodded
After the short meeting, I brought (y/n) back to her room, making her rest up a bit more while I went back to my office and changed into my nightwear mission gear and taking the female clothes I asked someone to buy for me to (y/n)âs room; telling her to change while we wait for Jeno to come.
âJust asking. How long have you been doing this?â I heard (y/n) asked
âFor a few years. I was found by my now leader at 18 and ever since I was taken in, was taught everything I know and was given the opportunity to be something that Iâve always wanted as a kidâ I told her, remembering the early days when Taeyong-hyung and Jeno first found me
âDo, do you guys like, I donât know, kill people? Sell drugs or human trafficking?â (y/n) asked, making me chuckle at her thought. âWh-why are you laughing? Is this all just a trick and youâre actually working withâŚâ (y/n) rambled but I stopped her before she could say that manâs name
âNo. Weâre not like him. Not every mafia is bad. At least not us. I used to think the same until my leader brought me in. Weâre considered a mafia group because we deal with other dirty crime organizations through some illegal methods which to the public, it might seem wrong but basically, we help the government do more of the dirty work. But we never went as far as killing. Torture? Yes. Iâll tell you that upfront. Especially to those who betray usâ I explained, looking at (y/n) who looked nervous
âDonât worry. As long as youâre not involved with the people in our wanted list, thereâs nothing to worry about. Are you ready to go?â I asked as (y/n) slowly nodded
âAlright, come with me thenâ I mentioned, nudging (y/n) to walk right beside me. âWhatever happens there, Iâll be by your side and I expect you to do the same. Donât walk ahead, donât walk behind. I have to make sure that nothing happens to you, got it?â I stated as we walked into the private elevator and (y/n) nodded
Arriving at (y/n)âs house, Jeno told Haechan, Renjun and Shotaro to stay hidden as he, Yangyang, (y/n) and I go into the house and find the files along with the photobook that (y/n) wanted. Because (y/n) was the only one who knew where both the items were, we stuck close to her, practically forming a human wall around her to make sure that there werenât any threats.
âHaechan, any sign of anyone nearby?â Jeno asked. âNope. Itâs all clear. Unless you count some stray cats nearby which theyâre very big and chubbyâ Haechan joked
âJaem, you accompany (y/n). Yangyang and I will stay downstairs, just in case. Once youâve gotten the files, toss it to me and Iâll have Yangyang hand it to Haechan and the others, kay?â Jeno instructed and I nodded in acknowledgement
(y/n) and I went upstairs, and I noticed from some of the ripped, broken images that (y/n) seemed to be an only child and that there werenât really any other family members except for her parents. âD-do you not have any like uncles or aunts to take you in at the time?â I asked as (y/n) rummage around a room that seems to be a master bedroom based on the size and linked bathroom
âUnfortunately, no. As far as I know, my parents are both only childs and even if there were, I doubt they want to take a burden inâ (y/n) chuckled dryly, making me feel bad for asking
âIâm sorry to hear that but you should know that no one is a burden. Especially those under 18. You didnât ask to be born. None of us asked for it and you shouldnât push yourself because of what happened. This universe mightâve fucked up some things in everyoneâs life but the moment youâre given just one chance to change your fate, take it. Exploit it if you can as long as you hurt no one. You deserve to enjoy your lifeâ I stated, trying to cheer (y/n) up
âYou know, I lived my life in uncertainty and everything changed with my mom was killed and I thought that this universe hated me until my now leader and Jeno found me. They gave me a new life and I��m doing much better now. Why donât you come with us when all of this is over?â I offered, catching (y/n)âs attention
âI doubt that you guys would want me. I donât even know what Iâm good atâ (y/n) replied, her voice became much softer than before
âDonât worry about that. Everyone doesnât know what theyâre good at because they just simply were never given the chance to. But I promise you that as stone-cold as some of my members are, they are all caring for each other and would always help one another. Just consider it. And if you decided you want to, Iâll talk with my leader about itâ I replied, offering (y/n) a smile, making her smile back
âT-thank you, Jaemin. Really. No one has ever offered me this farâ (y/n) mentioned, making me frown
âThatâs probably because they donât understand the pain you go through; especially after losing your parents. Letâs hurry and find the file and your photobook then we can continue this conversationâ I stated as (y/n) nodded
(y/n) quickly scrambled to the bed of the room and went underneath the covers, ripping it and taking something out of the mattress which turns out to be the USB. âIs that the files?â I asked as (y/n) nodded. âYeah, I kept it here because this room and bed reminded me about my parents. How I would crawl into their room in the middle of the night because of nightmares when I was younger. And eventually sleep between themâ (y/n) replied, making me smile
âCan I take the USB from you? I promise that my members and I will bring justice to your parents and all the innocent people whose life were ruined by Nam Goongminâ I stated, extending my hand as (y/n) handed the USB over
âJen, I got it. Weâre upstairs in the master bedroom. (y/n) is looking for the photobookâ I stated in my earcom. âIâm going upâ Jeno replied
Jeno then came within seconds and took the USB. Jeno told me to take care of (y/n) while he went to Haechan and handed the USB over to check the files before going back to the base. I told Jeno that he and Yangyang could just go with the others because (y/n) and I were only finding the photobook.
Despite being unsure of my request, Jeno eventually compiled and told me that if anything were to happen, I should just call him or the base; regardless of whether Taeyong-hyung knows or not. Because in the end, whether I like it or not, I will have to tell Taeyong-hyung about this.
After Jeno left, I continued to help (y/n) find the photobook she was looking for. We eventually turned the already messed up house into basically a destroyed ship. But luckily, we managed to find the photobook that (y/n) was looking and I instantly told the others that we were done and were going to head back to my place.
As we went downstairs, I suddenly heard a clock ticking. I looked around and saw an old grandfather clock that was ticking. Which was strange because I swore that when we all went into the house, the only noise that could be heard were our voices, the sounds of our shoes on the old hardwood floor, and even our breathing. But not once did I hear any ticking noise.
Not wanting to find out, I quickly wrapped an arm around (y/n) and dragged her out of the house. But before we could get out, the clock struck 3 am and instantly, everything became a blur. One moment I was reaching the door handle to open the door and the next, I was having a hard time breathing and was lying on my back.
Blinking several times, I tried to regain my vision after almost blacking out but everything was still a blur. My nose smelled some smoke and as I used my hands to try to get me up, I noticed that the house behind me was in flames.
Regardless of my weak state, I called out to (y/n) and tried to scan my surroundings with whatever vision I had but I felt everything spinning around and was suddenly met with a fist on my cheek; making me fall to the ground and cough up blood.
Suddenly, I felt two people holding each of my arms respectively as I was now kneeling on the ground. I tried to fight them off but knowing my weak state from the sudden explosion, I couldnât do anything. But what caught me off-guard was the person who walked and stood right in front of me. The man who made me have my first kill, the man who I thought was good because of how he loved my mother, the man who shared the same DNA as I did. My father, Nam Goongmin.
âI thought I told you manners on how to greet your elderly, Na Jaeminâ my father chuckled, grabbing a chunk of my hair, roughly pulling my head back, making me look at him
Even though my vision was still blurry, I could recognize that tone and sinister smirk from anywhere. âYou donât deserve any manners or respect from meâ I coughed up, spitting some blood that landed on my fatherâs suit and face
âYou still havenât changed, have you? A doctor now are you?â my father stated, not really asking me
âW-was the least I could do, after what youâve done. You can try to kill as many innocent people but Iâll be the one thatâll save themâ I argued back, my father roughly letting my hair go
âOh, you might want to save that breath of yours because youâre going to need itâ my father uttered, I could feel his breath by my ear. âYou and your little gang have something that Iâve been looking for yearsâ my father whispered as I turned to eye him
âLetâs test how eager you are to save a life, shall we? That troublesome girl will be your time limit. Right now, sheâs practically as injured as you are. The difference is. Youâre going to be rescued by your little team while she gets to hang out with meâ my father stated, making me try to release the grip of his men
âWith every second you donât come back, Iâm going to draw her blood out of her. Slowly. With each day passing and you do not give me back those files, Iâll have to find out which organ I want to sell to the black market first. And if those files ever get released to the public? Iâll give you a little present. For all the years that Iâve been gone from your lifeâ my father stated when suddenly I was injected with a sleeping drug and the grip on each of my arms were gone as I drifted off to sleep, and my body unconsciously fell to the ground with the thought of (y/n) in my mind
NCT Base - 8:25 pm (still Jaeminâs POV)
The sound of a beeping monitor slowly matched with the beat of my heart as I slowly woke up from my slumber for who knows how long. When I opened my eyes and slowly scanned the room, I noticed that I was in the patient room back in the base.
When I closed my eyes again, I remembered my fatherâs threat and immediately jerked on the bed. âShit Jaemin, are you okay?! Let me get Kun-hyungâ I heard Jeno stated but I managed to grip his wrist. âHow long was I out?â I asked
âAbout more than 12 hours. Not long after we left, I felt something was off. I tried to contact you through our earcom but it was muffled. I told Haechan to just go while I drove one of our emergency borrowed cars and went back to the house. By the time I arrived, the house was in flames and you passed out on the ground, bruises and blood everywhere. But I didnât see (y/n) at allâ Jeno explained
âShit. My dad. H-he caused the explosion. He knew that we would go to the house. He knew that (y/n) mustâve hid the files there and would have to retrieve it. Whereâs the files right now?â I asked, trying to get out of bed but Jeno stopped me
âWoah. I know that your dad is insane and we should save (y/n) but youâre injured pretty badly right now. You gotta rest. Especially since you have to faceâŚâ Jeno ranted but we heard several footsteps coming into the room
âIs he awake?!â both Jeno and I heard Taeyong-hyungâs voice and suddenly the door was slammed open and Taeyong-hyung along with Kun, Mark, and Doyoung came in
âTell me why the hell is there a 150ml of blood bag with your fucking name on it arrived at the hospital when the blood is clearly not yours?!â Taeyong-hyung demanded, showing me the blood bag
âShit. Heâs actually serious. Fuck. Hyung, whereâs the files?â I asked back but Taeyong-hyung didnât budge. âWho is he, Jaemin?! Youâre my member. My core member. And Kun received this right as he finished handling another patient. So no, Jaemin, I wonât let you know anything about the files until you explain yourselfâ Taeyong-hyung growled and I was trying to put together some words to not make the situation worse
âHeâs back isnât he?â Taeyong-hyung stated, sending chills as I remembered the incident
âHeâs after the files, isnât he, Jaemin?â Taeyong-hyung asked as I slowly nodded. âEveryone but Jeno, outâ Taeyong-hyung stated as the others left the room but Jeno. âYou know something as well, Jeno. Iâll deal with the other 00 boys laterâ Taeyong-hyung added
âTell me everything, Jaemin. What happened, how did you get those files, whose blood is this and what did Nam Goongmin threaten youâ Taeyong demanded and I told him everything that had happened. From when Jeno brought (y/n) to the hospital to going to her house and even facing my father on my own
âI know meeting him would not end well but this?! This is out of my predictionâ Taeyong-hyung grunted, messing up his hair before slicking it back again
âWe canât release the files. (y/n) would be instantly killedâ I argued
âI know that. But we need to find where your father is first which Jungwoo is already in the process of finding through the satellite tracker. In the meantime, Haechan already duplicated the files and weâll hand the original file backâ Taeyong-hyung mentioned
âYou figured it out when I was passed out, didnât you, hyung?â I asked back when Taeyong-hyung explained on the current situation heâs handling which always amazed me
âI keep tabs on my members. I know about your father coming to find you because that was the reason why he sent someone to kidnap the intern under Jungwoo. But I wouldnât expect another person outside of NCT to be involved. Guess I shouldâve expected it since it already happened with Jeno and Haechanâ Taeyong-hyung chuckled
âIâm sorry. I didnât want to worry you. I also didnât expect my father to have everything figured out and was basically a step ahead of meâ I grunted
âJaemin. Whether you like it or not, your dad was in the mafia way before me and the other oldest members in the group. He might be out of touch with the current generation unlike us, but he always has that sinister, manipulative mind that somehow always manages to turn the situation around. No matter what, your dad is not someone we can take on lightly like Jeno or Haechanâs situationâ Taeyong-hyung stated when suddenly we heard a knock on the door, revealing to be Jungwoo
âHyung. I found himâ Jungwoo-hyung stated and Taeyong-hyung told him to come and show us
Jungwoo-hyung came in and showed the exact location of where my father was and it turns out, he was back at my old house. The house that I abandoned since my mother was killed. âOf course he would be thereâ I growled
âThatâs not all, Jaemin. As I found him, there was a sudden file that was delivered to me. I didnât want to open it until I see Taeyong-hyungâ Jungwoo-hyung mentioned, showing us the mystery file that he received
âOpen it, Jungwooâ Taeyong-hyung mentioned and upon opening the file, I could feel my stomach twist and nearly puke upon seeing the file because it was a video of (y/n) who was unconscious and tied to a bed, getting her blood slowly drawn out and a figure coming behind her and slowly picking up a scalpel before the video went black, showing several numbers.
âHyungâŚâ I grunted, Jeno taking a bucket and shoving it towards me. âGo ahead, no one is going to judge youâ Jeno tried to joke
âItâs a countdownâ Taeyong-hyung stated. âLooks like your dad still isnât a patient man. Are you okay to go?â Taeyong-hyung asked
âI have to. Iâm not letting him kill another innocent person. Not when I can actually do something about it. I failed to protect my mom and spent the past few years to try and atone for what my father has done. Iâm not going to sit this one out just because I have a few bruises and injuriesâ I stated, getting up from my bed
âItâll most likely be a trap. Your dad would instantly kill her upon seeing the rest of us but if you go alone, thereâs no telling what will happen. Your dad could have mercy on you but not on the girl or he might be very merciful and spare both of you. Either way, I wonât sit tight and let you handle everything alone, alright?â Taeyong-hyung stated, patting my shoulder
Jaeminâs Old House - 1:38 am
Right as my car came to a stop, I took a deep breath before walking out and facing the very problem that Iâve been running away from for the past 6 years of my life. As I slowly opened the door, memories of what used to be a happy childhood slowly flooded back but this time with the smell of dirt, trash, and even blood mixed in.
Standing by the door, I was met with multiple other men with their guns all loaded, pointing at me as I looked up at my father who was standing on the 2nd floor, looking as sharp as I remembered him from the day when I last saw him. The last day that I ever agreed to do anything with him. To get revenge on my dead mother.
âIâm assuming you come here with what I requested?â my father asked and I pulled the USB from the inner corner of my jacket, raising it up to show him
âAll the files about you. About what youâve done. About every corrupted person you have helped. Every innocent person you have killed. Every track of your dirty money in and out. Every weapon and drug you own and sell. Theyâre all in hereâ I stated, none of my fatherâs men lowered their weapons
âHand over the USB and put down every weapon you haveâ my father instructed me. âSearch him just in caseâ my father added
I handed the USB to one of his men as I took out my guns, knife, pepper spray, and every other weapon I had in hand. Two of his men held me by the arm and another searched me completely before taking away all of my weapons, telling my father that I was already clean.
His men who took the USB went upstairs and handed it to my father. My father then took it and plugged it into the laptop to check every single file personally. âYou really have turned soft, havenât you, Jaemin? All this information for just a girl?â my father questioned
âJust a girl? You killed her parents. She didnât deserve to continue her life like that. She had no one. No one deserves to live like that. Just because you were like that, doesnât mean someone else shouldâ I argued back and without warning, my father fired a bullet that grazed my cheek
âKnow your place, boy. Remember it was me that helped bring you to this world. Without me, you wouldnât be alive or breathing right now. Her father wasnât as innocent if she ever told you the truth, that is. His father was associated with me as in they were the ones that sourced all the weapons and drugs that I sell. So, regardless, they werenât all that goodâ my father argued back as well
âDoesnât mean you should kill them. No one deserves to be killedâ I stated but what my father said next hit me more than a bullet would. âYet your mother was killedâ
âIf you recall, your mother was murdered, Na Jaemin. She didnât die due to some illness or of old age. She was murdered cold-blooded. She did nothing wrong yet she was still murdered. Youâre only partially right. Not everyone deserves to be killed. Some doâ my father stated.
âAs shitty as some people are, including you, no one still deserves to be killedâ I stood my argument
âYou sure about that? Donât you remember the time when you practically forced yourself to come with me to find your motherâs killer? That you wanted to pull the trigger yourself. Yet, it didnât satisfy you enough, did it? If anything, youâve always been a coward. I taught you everything. Yet, you never dared to go above and beyondâ my father complained
âMy mother never taught me to do anything bad. Plus, she was the reason why you were also soft at some point in your life. She would be disappointed with how youâve changed. At least Iâm trying to atone for what you and I didâ I taunted, making my fatherâs demeanour change. His gaze got darker and scarier.
âDonât talk about her as if you know about our history. As if you understand what it feels like to have someone part of you being ripped away after all that youâve been through to change for themâ my father admitted; a side of him that I didnât really know of
âWho says?! My mother is a part of me. Heck, 50% of my DNA is from her. She was my number one supporter and she was my everything. The first woman I love. You and I are the same in terms of looks, some of our traits, and our love for the same woman. The big difference is how we cope with that lossâ I mentioned. âAs much as I hate the man youâve become, it saddens me more because no matter what, youâre still my father. So stop this nonsense and just turn yourself inâ I tried to reason but instead, my father let out a rather maniac laugh
âThereâs another difference between you and I. Your mother might be your first love. But sheâs my first and last. Like you said, my parents werenât really there for me and when I met your mother, thatâs when I actually knew what love actually is. Until she was murdered that is. So, Na Jaemin. You want to understand what it feels like to go through what I went through? Let me show you thenâ my father stated, confusing me
My father went into one of the rooms and not long after, he came back, dragging a way smaller yet weak figure than him to his side which made my whole body shudder as I saw (y/n)âs paled and injured face was being held between one of my fatherâs hand.
âYou said that you wouldnât hurt her if I gave you the filesâ I growled, punching and kicking both men who were holding me down, finally breaking free of their grip and immediately there was smoke covering the entirety of the house
Within seconds, each of my fatherâs men was knocked out by my group and Taeyong-hyungâs additional reinforcements. Once the smoke cleared up, everyone pointed their weapon towards my father as Taeyong stepped into the scene.
âNam Goongmin. I didnât expect for us to ever meet again ever since you nearly killed your own sonâ Taeyong-hyung mentioned. âLet the girl go and turn yourself in. You promised you wouldnât kill herâ
âI only said I would kill her if those files were released. Nothing more. But since youâre all here, you broke the agreement first, Jaeminâ my father stated, making my jaw clench. âYou want to understand my pain? Then let me show youâ my father then stabbed (y/n) in the back and immediately pulled the scalpel out, making her bleed even more blood
Immediately, I rushed upstairs and shoved my father away, catching (y/n) in my arms when suddenly my father shoved me again and started a fight with me
Thankfully, Jeno, Shotaro, and Jaehyun-hyung came and helped bring (y/n) away from the fight between my father and I. Though I was already trained in combat and my father had already age, he still managed to get me out of breath.
My fatherâs aims were sharp and strong which made me have to go into defence mode until I saw an opening and kicked him on the side of his ribs, which made him stumble backwards. Immediately, I took my chances and threw several more punches which hit and eventually, I managed to pin him on the ground, using my knee to pin his chest down, making it hard for him to breathe while my left arm was right on his neck, barely allowing my father to even speak.
âI think you should be by her side, doctor. Unless of course, you want to feel the exact pain that I feltâ my father managed to choke out, tears somehow forming in my eyes
âJaemin!! You have to operate on (y/n) right now. She already lost so much blood and while weâve stopped it, it wonât last longâ Taeyong-hyung stated as some of his reinforcements came and handled my father
âYou should listen to your leader, doctor. Unless you want to relive the time when you couldnât save someoneâ my father taunted and Taeyong-hyung covered him from my sight. âGo. I managed to bring a decent amount of tools for you to operate. The guys also managed to find the same blood type as her. Iâll deal with your dadâ Taeyong-hyung mentioned, ushering me to quickly go
âHyung. Thank you. And donât kill my father. As shitty as what he did, I still stand my ground. Iâm not going to kill him and no one is allowed to kill him. Heâs still my father after allâ I mentioned, looking back at Taeyong-hyung then seeing the other men take my father away
Rushing to the room that my members brought (y/n) in, I immediately put on a mask and gloves before getting to work. Though not all of my members know how the surgery procedure works, Iâve done operations on other people alone before.
I saw the monitor that checked all of (y/n)âs blood condition and they were all very low. First things first, I had to do the blood transfusion quickly before operating on the wound. After setting up the blood bag and putting the IV into (y/n)âs blood vessel, I told Shotaro to eye the blood bag and tell me when it was running low so I could give another blood bag.
As the blood transfusion was happening, I immediately got to work with the wound. I made sure that none of her vital organs were hit before actually stitching her up. I didnât know how long I was stitching (y/n) while also giving her blood transfusion but at some point, the monitor suddenly beeping like crazy which made me worry.
âJaemâŚher blood pressure is decreasing and so is her heart rate. Are there any other scars or wounds she has?â Jeno asked and I instantly scanned her entire body once again and the tab about her past conditions but nothing checked up; it was as if her body was giving up on its own
âNothing, Jen. She has no wounds, no allergies, no sudden reaction. Her body, its slowly giving up. Iâve only heard several cases of patients whose consciousness just shut down their whole body. I, I didnât think I would see it happen in front of meâ I stuttered, my hands were now shaking
âJaemin, I know this might sound crazy but you have to talk to her. She might be unconscious but her consciousness is alive and she could most probably hear you. You have to convince her to fight through itâ Jaehyun-hyung mentioned and I was a shaking mess
Putting my tools down, I stood right beside (y/n). I grabbed one of her hands and leaned down by her ear. âHey. Iâm not sure if you can hear me but I just wanted to tell you that you shouldnât give up. I know that we barely met but when you told me what happened to you, I felt that no one was ever able to understand you unlike I do. When you told me what my father did to your family, it made me feel obligated to take care of you. It might seem that Iâm doing this to repay what my father did but honestly, I want to help you. You werenât ever given the chance to enjoy your lifeâ I held (y/n)âs hand with both of mine, squeezing it
âI know that Iâve told you this before but I want to say it again, I want to remind you if you feel that you want to give up. I was at that point as well. I was truly lucky to be able to have a leader and friends that helped me find a new purpose and that alone drove me to help others. You want to know what I want to be a surgeon? Itâs not to only save people but I want to give them hope, to give them a second chance in their life when no one else would. I want to help them heal from their trauma just as I want to help you. So please, donât give up just yet. Let me take care of you and give you the life you deserve. Let me be the one to heal your trauma just as my members healed mineâ I rambled, hoping that whatever I said actually got to (y/n)âs consciousness
Somehow, as crazy as Jaehyun-hyung idea was, my voice somehow got through (y/n) and the monitor was suddenly stable once again. Letting out a sigh of relief, I looked at (y/n)âs calmer face and looked at Jaehyun-hyung and Jeno who both told me that I was good to continue.
Thankfully, throughout the rest of the operation, (y/n) was stable and I finished operating on her quicker than usual. Not long, we had some backup to help bring (y/n) and my fatherâs men back to our base.
Back at the base, everyone cleaned up but I immediately made sure that (y/n) was taken care of. I didnât even care that I was still in my uniform and covered in dirt, scars, and blood. What matters most is that (y/n) was in a comfortable room, being treated and stable.
I even waited for Kun-hyung to confirm that (y/n) was indeed stable and that all she needed was some rest before actually being dragged out of the room and shoved into our shower room to shower by Jeno.
âYou finally done?â Jeno asked as I got changed and dried my hair
âYeah. You wouldnât even let me leave until I actually freshen upâ I grumbled, annoyed that Jeno and the others wouldnât let me stay until (y/n) was awake
âBecause you reek. You really think (y/n) would want to be next to you when you look and smell like blood, sweat, and tears?â Jeno sarcased
âHow is she? Stable right?â I asked, putting my uniform to the dirty basket for laundry later
âYeah. Kun-hyung actually mentioned that her fingers were moving a bit which means sheâs going to wake up soonâ Jeno mentioned as I hummed. âWhat are you going to do with your dad though? Taeyong-hyung practically chained him up and well, the usual. Taeyong-hyung didnât hurt him too badly, if thatâs what youâre worriedâ Jeno rambled
âHonestly, Iâm not sure yet. I donât want to kill him thatâs for sure, IâŚâ I replied when the door was flung open and Renjun came in panting. âSheâs awake and Taeyong-hyung is with herâ
Within seconds of Renjun coming to tell us that (y/n) was awake, I wasted no time in rushing to her room and seeing Taeyong-hyung beside her. âRelax. Iâm not tormenting her, Jaemin. Excuse him, he sometimes look into things a bit too deeplyâ Taeyong-hyung mentioned and I heard a soft chuckle
When I walked to the side, I saw (y/n) sitting on the bed, her face looked brighter and fresher than hours ago. âHeyâ I called out to her, offering a soft smile which she replied back
âIâll leave you both alone now. Jaemin, when youâre done, my office, alright?â Taeyong-hyung mentioned before leaving me with (y/n) in the room
I pulled a chair and sat next to (y/n). âHow are you? How are you feeling? Any parts of your body that hurt?â I asked and (y/n) softly shook her head
âIâm okay. Thank youâ (y/n) stated, making me smile. âT-thank you, for saving meâ (y/n) uttered out and I immediately took her hands in mine
âNo, thank you, for staying strong. Iâm not sure if you heard what I said to you when you were unconscious but I promise you that Iâll help you get back up. Iâll help you get the life youâve wanted. Not because I feel obligated for what my father has done but because you deserve it and maybe because I can relate to you. Only if you allow me to help you, that is?â I rambled on and (y/n) held my hand tighter
âIâd like that. But I also want you to share your burden tooâ (y/n) uttered, making me smile wider, pressing my forehead onto hers. âAs long as you let me take care of you and your traumaâ I replied. For the first time, I felt calmer and more at peace since a long time.
NCT Prison - 12:18 am
Though Iâve been through these empty halls, I typically walk through them with my members to torment one of our prisoners. But this time, walking alone felt foreign. It reminded me of the day I left my home on my own. When there was no one to help me at all. But this time it was different. I wasnât the same boy who ran away from his problems.
No. I decided I was finally going to put an end to it. By going in and facing the man who was both someone I used to look up to and someone that I despised.
âIâm amazed that you actually came. I thought youâd let your leader and other members do as they please with meâ my father stated, locked within one of the cages of the prison
âI wouldnât let them do that. Unlike you, father, who almost killed their own son, I would never let you get killed by my own members. As much as I despised you, youâre still my father. You said it yourself. Iâm your sonâ I started out
âSo then what? Are you going to torture me now? Your leader already has my files and most probably heâs going to release it tomorrow along with a statement that Iâve fallen and been captured. Then are you going to kill me by yourself? Is that why youâre not letting your members kill me?â my father questioned me
âIâm not going to kill you. Sure, my leader is going to open up and give a statement regarding his recent findings about you. But I told him that whatever he tells to the public will just be for the public becauseâŚIâve already lost one parent. I donât intend to lose anotherâ I uttered, my father finally looking at me
âYou might not be the best father but at some point, you raised me well. I know you love mom so much and you miss her just as I do but I know that mom would have never wanted us to be like this. She would have wanted both of us to be able to move on and live our lives. Not hating each other. Not chasing each other. We donât even have to like each other or what we do but I know that mom would have wanted us to just try and get along. And thatâs what I plan on doingâ I ranted
âYou can think that Iâm weak or anything you want. But I hope that someday, youâll be able to see me as your son who only wanted his dad. Not his father. I hope that you will be able to go back to the time when you were happy with mom but this time with me. And I hope that one day, youâll admit your mistakes and apologise for what youâve done. Not to me. Iâve gotten over that a long time ago. But to those who youâve hurt and traumatisedâ I rambled on before slightly bowing to my father, about to leave but stopped upon hearing my father spoke
âYouâre wrong, Jaemin. Youâre not my son. Youâre mine and your motherâs son. And whether you think that I was going to kill you that day. I wasnât. Just like you, I was angry at what happened. And was pissed that you cowardly left me. But never did I ever think to kill you. Even now. I would have never killed the one person who reminded me of what your mother and I were like when we first fell for each otherâ my father finally spoke in a softer tone, making me turn to face him
âBut youâre right. I was a shitty father when I shouldâve been more of a dad to you. For that, Iâm sorry. But Iâm glad that you got more of your motherâs side. Iâm glad that you grew up well. Your mom might hate me but I know for sure that sheâs proud of the man youâve becomeâ my dad stated, actually smiling a bit which made me smile
âThanks. Iâll um, talk to you again soon. I hope you do reflect on your mistakes. See you soon, dadâ I uttered, leaving my dad, finally getting over the trauma that Iâve been holding onto for years
A/N: hopefully you guys enjoy this other long mafia fic of mine. I swear I will make a whole mini mafia series masterlist. After my 100th post which will be coming in December. I'm sorry that I've been slow on my stories and have only been posting like once a month but somehow, I ended up writing this mini mafia series which while fun, takes quite a while to write as I want them to somewhat interconnect with one another. Alright, before I go, I'm gonna give a mini sneak peek at my 100th post which will be another mafia series. Thank you all, have a great day and stay safe xoxo vinet
Sneak Peek for 100th Post
âYo, John, doesnât she look a bit too young to be working a a club?â Jaehyuna asked, looking over to a young girl wearing the waitress uniform, serving some drinks to old sweaty men
Johnny who was just trying to drink and enjoy his night eventually followed Jaehyunâs gaze and landed on the girl that Jaehyun was describing.
Sure, Johnny mightâve opened his own bar with Taeyongâs permission but that doesnât mean that he allows just about anyone to work in his bar. And while he doesnât deal with all the miscellaneous work in the bar, he surely memorises his staff and the girl Jaehyun pointed out was never in any parts of Johnnyâs memory.
Instead of confronting the girl, Johnny immediately called another waiter to get the current manager and question the girl whom he learned was technically legal to work in a bar as she was 21+ and the manager mentioned that she was only a part-timer on the weekends since they needed more help.
Right when the manager was explaining to Johnny, he saw one of the old men put their hands on the girlâs bare thigh which scared the girl. Angered at the behaviour, Johnny stood up and stomped his way to the scene before the man could go any further.
âThis is an exclusive bar and I make sure that all of my staff are always on their best service. But that doesnât mean that you could just harass them like thisâ Johnny growled, gripping the older manâs arm tightly that the people nearby could hear a bone crack
âEspecially when itâs an old man harassing a young girlâ Johnny grunted, pushing the man that he fell off his chair; the other men around the table started to get up, about to put up a fight when Jaehyun came beside Johnny, shielding the girl
âI suggest you all sit your old sweaty asses down unless you want your old bones to be brokenâ Jaehyun taunted. âOr shall we call Taeyong? Because heâs the co-owner of this bar and I donât think he would be pleased that his supposed business partners were in his bar, harassing a girlâ
#nct#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct dream na jaemin#nct dream jaemin#nct dream jaemin imagines#nct dream jaemin scenarios#nct na jaemin#na jaemin#na jaemin x reader#na jaemin imagines#na jaemin scenarios#nct jaemin#jaemin#jaemin scenarios#nct jaemin imagines#jaemin imagines#jaemin x reader#jaemin x you#nam goong min#nct 127#nct 127 jaehyun#nct 127 johnny#nct mafia#nct mafia au#nct mafia fic
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Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 3
Hello, hello. I am so grateful for the amount of support this story has gotten. It's been plotted out, it just needs to get written up. I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but if I know anything about myself, LONG.
Part 1 Part 2
***
Pulling into the truck stop was the hardest thing Eddie had ever done and he faced down dozens of demobats. He slowed to a stop, tires crunching on the gravel.
Thankfully Wayne was already there and waiting for them. He gently shook Steve awake.
âHey,â he murmured. âYou need to get up and walk around. Get the blood flowing again.â
Steve blinked at him blearily. âYeah, okay.â
Eddie shook his head and climbed out the car. He walked over to Wayne as Steve stumbled out and onto the dust filled gravel.
âYour boy okay?â Wayne asked, watching Steve walk into the bathroom.
Eddie looked back at his friend and then back to him. âI donât think so. But I donât know how to fix it.â
Wayne just shook his head. âDonât you be thinking about fixing shit, son. Heâll let you in when heâs ready. Just be there for him. Thatâs all you need to do.â
Eddie sighed. âIâm the one on my way to a fucking funeral but Steve seems like heâs grieving more than I am.â
âYou told me last night that he had family in Kentucky?â Wayne asked.
He nodded. âI donât know if any of Steveâs momâs family is left, but his grandma used live in Lexington before she died when he was little.â
Wayne hummed. âYour dad went to school with Clint Harrington, a pleasure I thankfully missed out on, having already graduated by the time our parents moved to Indiana. I stayed in Kentucky until a social worker showed up on my doorstep with you. You were used to living in Indiana at that point so I moved out there. Went back to the town your grandparents raised Al to raise you.â
Eddie frowned. âThen how did Grandma move back to Kentucky?â
âAfter your grandfather died,â Wayne explained, âhe wanted to buried in the family plot. She fully intended to move back to Hawkins to help with you, but she fell and broke her hip.â
Eddie sighed. âAnd since you were already taking care of me, it was Aunt Penny that took her in?â
Wayne nodded. âAll this to say that family is complicated. And grief is a funny thing. You can think youâre over it and something: a smell, a piece of a song, a person walking down the street and suddenly itâs as fresh as the day it happened.â
He knew. He felt that way about his mom all the time. Sometimes it was as simple as picking up her old guitar and strumming a note. Sometimes it would something one of the kids did or said. He knew.
âI wish I hadnât asked him to come,â he groused.
âI donât,â Wayne said fiercely. âI think we all need this trip for one reason or another.â
Steve walked back out of the gas station looking a little more lively. Eddie waved and Steve smiled, breaking into a jog to join them.
âHey,â he said a little winded. âYou didnât have to let me sleep like that.â
Eddie smiled back. âNah, you needed it.â He pulled Steveâs keys out of his pocket and tossed it to him. âItâs your turn to drive.â
Steve laughed. âYeah, okay.â
âEddie was just telling me your mom came from Kentucky,â Wayne said gently.
Steve smile faltered a bit. âFrom Lexington. Sheâs a Lexington Kincade.â
Wayne blinked a moment. âHoly shit, son. When you said you were wealthy I didnât realize you meant that kind of money.â
Steve shifted uncomfortably. âI donât like talking about it. I havenât seen that side of my family since I was little. Her two older brothers, one got the business, the other got the house, but my mom got all the money. They never forgave her for that.â
Wayne nodded. âEven though the house and the business were worth more than the cash, money makes good people go mad.â
Steve looked him in the eye. âI know.â
âNever said you didnât, son,â he assured him. âIâm sure you know better than most. Iâm just commiserating.â
âThank you,â Steve murmured. âMost people try to tell me to stop whining about it. I can have whatever I want, so that means I canât miss the simpler things.â
âGo get gassed up,â Wayne said with a smile, âand then weâll hop back on the road.â
Steve nodded.
âAnd stay close behind me,â he warned. âI donât want you getting lost. Ed knows the way but itâll be better if you donât beat me there, okay?â
âOutsiders get met with shot guns,â Steve muttered darkly. âIâm aware.â
He pounded Steve on the shoulder and slipped back into his truck. He watched as Steve and Eddie chatted as Steve filled up the car. They walked in together and were back out with more sodas.
When they were securely nestled in Steveâs BMW, Wayne pulled back out into traffic, Steve following close behind.
Every time he glanced in his review mirror, a small smile crept on his face. Those two boys were good for each other.
*
They pulled into a old white house with a large front porch. There was a beat up brass colored 1972 F150 on the lawn and dark blue Chevy Cavalier in the drive way.
The steps sagged and the paint was peeling. Steve was in love. He adored places like this. Because it was someoneâs home and not just their house.
There was a woman standing on the front porch, leaning against the supports at the top of the stairs. Her hair was dark and straight, she had brown eyes and a round form. Steve could tell she had worked hard her whole life.
And without a doubt she was going to judge him for not having done the same.
Wayne and Eddie were by his side in an instant though, closing ranks against the woman on the porch. Which meant this was the fabled Aunt Penny.
Steve couldnât help but wonder how in the hell did Wayne turn out the way he did with siblings like Penny and Al.
âPenny,â Wayne greeted.
âWayne,â she greeted back dryly. âI wasnât too keen about you bringing a stranger along. Still canât say I am on the sight of him.â
Steve popped his hip. âOh bless your heart, I didnât realize that I had to be blood-related to want to be there for Eddie and Wayne in their time of mourning.â
Wayneâs eyes went wide as he slowly turned to Steve with his whole body.
Eddieâs jaw dropped before he began cackling.
Penny looked him up and down again. âYouâll do.â And walked back into the house.
âBoy, you got a death wish?â Wayne asked after his sister went inside.
Steve scoffed. âNo, but I wasnât going to let her set the tone for this trip. If I didnât stick up for myself now, she would spend the trip walking over me, and I havenât been through hell to have some woman completely unrelated to me be that fucking rude.â
Eddie clasped his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes at Steve. âMy hero!â He swooned against the car causing Steve to laugh.
âCome on, you menace,â he said shaking his head fondly. He held out his hand to help Eddie up, but he popped up like a daisy and swanned past him.
Wayne gripped Steveâs shoulder again. âSheâs a tough old bird, my sister, but I think youâll get along with her kids just fine.â
âYou want to give me a rundown before I go charging into the hornetsâ nest?â
He cocked his head to the side and then cheerfully chirped. âNo.â He turned on his heel and walked into the house without preamble.
Steve shook his head. It was looking like it was going to be really long week.
*
Steve walked into a room that would have barely fit in his kitchen. But the furniture looked comfortable and the room itself, inviting.
What wasnât so inviting was the glares he was getting from half the people in the room. These must be the cousins. There were three girls and a boy.
The oldest of the girls was a curly-haired redhead about his age or a little younger. But unlike the orange color of Maxâs hair it was more like a rich auburn. It was piled on her freckled head in an untidy mass to try and beat the last of the summer heat. She wore a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a white t-shirt tied up under her chest.
The younger of the two girls and clearly the youngest, had dark hair and eyes. She looked to be Hollyâs age. She wore a rainbow shirt and coveralls that had been drawn and colored on. Her hair was in two braids that did remind him of Max.
The only boy wore an expression that would have put Mikeâs surly sneer to shame. Like his younger sister, his hair and eyes were dark, but his hair was curly like his older sisterâs. He was in that awkward middle stage of growth where everything all at once too big and too small.
His style matched that of Eddieâs, ripped black jeans and band shirt that Steve couldnât read the name of because of the swirling font. He knew Eddie would scoff at him about that later.
Eddie bounced up to Steve with a grin. âLetâs get you to a phone so you can call Robin.â
Steve nodded as Eddie led the way to the kitchen. They came back out a minute later and Eddie waved his arm at the assembled family.
âStevie, these are the Nelsons. The Mike wannabe is Oliver, the cutie-patootie is Abigail, call her Gale, not Abby. She kicks.â Steve snorted. He could believe it. She reminded him a bit of Erica in that way. âAnd the eldest and smartest of my auntâs brood is Lauren. She is the best person youâll ever meet.â
Steve scoffed. âI think Robin would fight her for that title.â
Eddie laughed.
Oliver glared at him. âWhoâs Mike?â
Steve looked him up and down. âHeâs one of the kids I used to babysit. Smart kid with a barbed tongue. Heâs in Eddieâs old club, Hellfire. Plays a level thirteen paladin.â
Eddie raised an eyebrow, impressed.
Oliver rolled his eyes. âYeah and just how old is this wizkid?â
âFifteen,â Steve said with a shrug. âBut Iâm not sure heâs the smartest of his Party. Dustin built a CV tower from scraps in his basement. Then thereâs Will who is a DM like Eddie. Really creative. Can paint and draw. And thereâs Lucas. Heâs just as smart as Mike, but he also helped his basketball team win the championship as a freshman. They all are in Hellfire, in fact.â
Oliver narrowed his eyes. âI donât believe you. You just made them up.â
Eddie licked the top of his teeth slowly. âNope, theyâre really real.â
Steve pulled out his wallet and took out a picture. He handed it to Oliver. He pointed to each one in turn, naming them and then snatched the picture back.
âWhy would you need to babysit?â Oliver asked, knowing he couldnât win the argument about them being real. âI know designer clothes when I see them. You clearly donât need the money.â
âI like kids, but especially those kids.â
Eddie smirked. âThey like you, too.â He paused and tapped his lips for a second. âWell...except Mike.â
âComes with dating his older sister at one point,â Steve said with a shrug.
âI still donât know why you guys never could make it work,â Eddie said with a frown. It was something he couldnât get out of... well, any of them really.
Steve looked down at the picture. He put it away and then pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the end. âHer best friend died in my pool while we were dating. It was a party at my house. She blamed herself, but I think she mostly blamed me.â
The room went deathly silent. A pin landing on the soft carpet would have sounded like a bomb going off.
âAaaannnddd...â Lauren said bouncing up from her chair, âthatâs about enough of that.â She smacked the back of Oliverâs head. âYou were begging for trouble with that one, dipshit.â
She grabbed Steveâs arm and started dragging him over to the sofa. âYouâre going to come over here with me and tell me all about Robin so I can be the judge of who is more awesome and why itâs obviously me.â
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as Lauren defused the situation. Because holy fucking shit. Now he knew why no one wanted to talk about it.
Wayne came up beside him. âWhoâs he talking about, son?â
Eddie chewed on his lip. âI think heâs talking about Barb Holland. Nancy and her were pretty tight before she died.â
âAnother bullshit cover up?â Wayne murmured.
Eddie nodded and Wayne nodded back.
âA boy that young shouldnât have seen as much death as he has,â Wayne murmured.
Eddie could only agree. Especially from white-bred middle America.
***
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Spider sat in one corner of the Sully marui weaving a basket, his smaller hands making quick work of tying sturdy knots out of material new to him.
In the other sat Neytiri, skinning fish after fish and placing them on hooks, quick and efficient with her blade.
The hut stayed utterly silent aside from sounds of their labour, yet it barely felt awkward. After all, both inhabitants were focusing for a reason. The chores were a distraction.
A distraction from the horrid disaster theyâve been through.Â
Strangely enough, since loosing the oldest Sully and arranging a funeral, both of them avoided talking about him; even in passing. It caused too much pain, like rubbing salt into a bleeding gash, but while Neytiri knew such agony well, to Spider it was all new. He escaped any thoughts about Neteyam because he was afraid heâd break down again, like he did the night of the funeral, when the emotional whiplash fully caught up to him and he broke, emitting barely-human noises as Kiri wept, holding him. Heâd never been this vulnerable, never cried to the point where there were no tears left, and hoped to Eywa that he wouldnât have to repeat the process, although witnessing Ms.Sully break down twice this week didnât give him much hope. But could he blame her?
No. Not in a million years. The utter shock of witnessing a loved oneâs eyes loose light is a horror Spider wouldnât wish upon anyone.
His work slowed.Â
Is this how Neytiri felt when she lost her father? Her sister? Half of her clan? His pain from loosing âTeyam felt gut-wrenching, so he couldnât even begin to imagine how badly it burned Ms.Sullyâs soul to have so much taken from her. Truth be told, he felt horrible for resenting her back in the forest. He only ever saw his own part of the story.
As he wandered deeper into his thoughts, so did the matriarch; except she had a bad habit of quickening her pace whenever she could not find focus on the present. She couldnât let her children or husband know, but she was holding on by a thread. No amount of crying and screaming and throwing objects into the sand could quench her agony, despite Norm saying that itâd be healthy for her to let it out. No matter how much she let it out, there was too much still left, and it grew like a mold as soon as sheâd stop screaming. Maybe she was well past the point of "letting it out" years ago, though she certainly tried many times.
She looked at Spider.Â
Yes, she tried hard to let it out indeedâŚand this boy became her accidental target. He came under the line of fire because through his veins coursed the blood of a demon, and she recalled herself justifying that behaviour more than once by telling her beloved that said boy walked on a slippery slope, bound to repeat the mistakes of his ancestors.Â
And yet, there he sat. After enduring months of captivity and torture, as heâd told them when Tonowari organised a council to hear our whatever information he had gathered, he was still loyal.Â
He witnessed villages burn, had to beg the demon, *cry* for him to spare the people, and it eluded Neytiri how or why the monster listened. She didnât want to put the puzzle together just yet, trying to erase the incident on the ship out of her memory. Eywa knows, Kiri hasnât looked at her the same since.
âAck!â She hissed when the knife inevitably drove into her finger, causing a bleeding. She then sees Spider react on pure instinct, fetching a bandage-like cloth and sitting next to the woman as he treated her injury. He was good at it, that much she was aware of, as she saw him treat a deep wound once. A human ally pilot bled once, but Socorro never lost his cool and swiftly bandaged it.Â
She wondered how often he had to treat himself, to get this precise with his movements. Â She also wondered why she let him touch her, but the last seven days have been a complete mess, and neither of the two had strength to be passive-aggressively avoidant of each other. There were bigger sorrows to mope over.
***
The crowd of Metkayina, as well as Tauânui, roared in frustration at the council. They wanted action, and they wanted it now. The death of many of their loved ones, including the tulkun, has angered them beyond belief, but the leaders had to quieten the crowd so Spider could share what he had gathered about their enemy. He knew he was looked at side-ways, because contrary to how he felt on the inside, blue stripes didnât make him taller, no matter how much paint he applied to his skin.Â
Neytiri grew frustrated as well. The crowdâs fury had been understandable, but their restlessness only stalled them. She looked at the teenager to see if heâd be brave enough to do something about it, since not even Tonowari and Ronal could calm their storm. And he did.
Grabbing the tube filled with a yellow liquid from the mat in the centre, Spider stood in front of the big fire and raised it to the sky. The crowd went quiet, their attention now consumed by the strange device.
âListen to me, reef people!â He exclaimed, mustering all the confidence he had. âThis! This is why theyâre killing your spirit siblings!â His voice shook when he remembered the death of a mother and her child.
âWhat is it!?â He heard the crowd demanding.
âItâs a liquid stored in the minds of every tulkun! They hunt for it because-â He couldnât believe he was about to say it. âBecause it grants sky people immortality!â
Reef Naâvi gasped in utter shock, and even Jake couldnât keep his jaw from hitting the floor.
âWhatâŚwhat are you saying, child?â Ronal dared to ask, her eyes filled with horror.
âThisâŚthis fluid stops humans from ageing! It makes them live forever!â He locked eyes with her.
âButâŚthat is impossible, all energyââ
âThey found a way to break that rule. And they break it by killing the tulkun and pulling this out of their heads.â Socorro pointed to where his brain is, his own eyes watering.
The Metkayina and Tauânui were silent now, processing this new information.
Neytiri felt even more furious than before, but by no means surprised. Sky people cruelty was new to the sea Naâvi, but not her. Not her clan.
Not new to Spider either, she thought, looking at him, and how bravely he held up in the face of a resentful mob.
Yes.
He was indeed quite brave.
***
Water, as beautifully as it sparkled, had never been Neytiriâs strong suit. She could swim just fine, could even fish to an extent, but riding an ilu was still quite difficult for her to grasp, even more when it came to the skimwing. Now that the war was upon them, she had no excuse to stall on learning, so Ronal took time out of her day to offer help. She guided the animal towards her, and âTiri couldnât help but feel warmth in her chest at its friendly clicks. About ten metres away, Spider sat on the woven pier and helped Jake carve wooden stakes for the nets. Socorro kept stealing glances, wondering how Ms.Sully would do.
Tsaheylu went smoothly but Neytiri shivered, as if cold water was dumped on her. She heard a familiar chuckle and whipped her head, seeing Spider quickly turn his down and pretending to work. She huffed, and listened to Tsahikâs instructions, slowly got on the creatureâs back. However, the animal mustâve felt her lack of confidence, as it chirped and bolted away, dropping Neytiri into the water.
Spider tried, honest to the great mother, to hold it in, but the image of such a serious, graceful figure emerging from beneath the waves with the widest eyes was just too amusing. He let out a laugh, before biting his lip and hunching again. Jake looked at him like he just signed his death warrant, and Socorro couldnât agree more.Â
He didnât see the smirk Neytiri failed to suppress, or her slowly wagging tail as she approached the ilu again, and whispered something into their ear.
He did however, definitely feel the harsh tug on his loincloth, which sent him tumbling into the water with a high-pitched screech. Once under the surface, he locked eyes with the clicking ilu and playfully shoved its face, swimming back up when the most incredible sound graces his ears.Â
Neytiri laughed. It was short-lived, but she laughed, and laughed in his presence. Seeing a smile on her worn out face felt like a breath of fresh air and Socorro couldnât help but chuckle in return, grinning.Â
Oh how good it felt, to have the weight of the world pulled off their shoulders, if just for a single moment.
***
Neytiri was at it again; overworking herself because she steadily lost focus on the current task while the eclipse had long since passed. She was expected home hours ago, and the family, deeply scared for their motherâs wellbeing, went looking for her around the village.
Jake and Spider split to search on the shoreline, going opposite directions and soon enough, Socorro witnessed a familiar silhouette resting against the rocks. It was none other than âTiri, with a half-weaved net in her arms.Â
The blonde couldnât help but appreciate that distinct, Omatikaya handiwork; he learned weaving from her after all, but his wonder turned to confusion when he caught the warrior twitching in her sleep. Looking up, Spider met her shut eyes and a forming scowl. Itâd be better to wake Neytiri before she falls deeper into whatever nightmare she was seeing.
But as soon as Socorroâs hand touched hers, she pounced on him akin to a vengeful thanator. In a way, she was.
âHey hey HEY!!â Spider yelled, as âTiri felt for the blade strapped to her vest and unsheathed it. âNeytiri STOP!! ITâS ME!!â
In a fit of rage, Neytiri hissed at him, and on reflex, the blonde hissed right back. That seemed to do the trick, as it snapped the warrior out of her delusion, and she breathed heavily, looking him in the eyes.
After what felt like an eternally long moment, she leapt away, realising what sheâd done. âWhat do you want!?â
ââŚItâs-itâs eclipse. Everyone has been looking for youâŚâ Spider breathed.
Neytiri turned, eyeing the darkening sky, before giving the blonde a slow nod and collecting the net sheâd weaved.
âLet us go.â She looked back at him, waiting for Spider to follow.
***
This night proceeded quietly, like so many others these past weeks, but Tshaka could not sleep. It has been roughly a month, but her scar bled still, as fresh as ever. Keeping her son out of her thoughts as to not breakdown completely has been an exhausting task.Â
She needed some air, and slowly, as to not disturb her family, slipped out of the warm hut, shivering at the chill. It was then she caught a distant sound of sobbing.
In said distance, on a pier, sat a familiar tiny figure, with knees up to his chin, and shaking shoulders. âTiri couldnât help her gasp as she approached, akin to a predator trying not to spook its prey. Was Spider really crying? He hadnât done that since the funeral. She guessed that heâd been putting on a front, but never considered how heavy the burden of grief would weight on someone who experienced it for the first time.Â
Thinking of her child, she let out a tear.
It never got easier, but oneâs very first loss always stings the most.
âSpider.âÂ
She spoke barely above a whisper, but Socorro still lurched, as if burned, before quickly lifting his mask and wiping away the salt on his cheeks.Â
âW-what is it?â He croaked, his voice shaking.
Itâs only then Neytiri realised that she didnât actually think it through. Her deep-rooted maternal instinct pulled her towards a broken child, but knowing their history, she had no idea how to provide comfort to him specifically.
So instead, she sat next to him, looking at the glowing ocean.
âI cannot sleep.â
The Naâvi avoided making eye contact with Socorro as to not make him feel further embarrassed, but still noticed him nodding, while hiding most of his face.
ââŚNeither can I.â
âTiri nodded in acknowledgement, and they stayed silent for a little more. Listening to the waves swirl gently against pierâs columns, as well as watching peculiar creatures swim below.
ââŚHowâŚhow do-how do you do it?â The boy then asked, sheepishly turning to the woman next to him.
âDo what?â
âKeep going. After everythingâŚâ New tears gathered in his eyes. âI feel like a part of me has been ripped away. Is this how it felt whenâŚ?â
ââŚYes. It feels like that all of the time.â
The blondeâs eyes widened, another tear escaping down his face. âThen how?â
Neytiri looked back at the ocean, trying to gather her thoughts and give him a hopeful response, but in truth, she had none. Every tragedy was a storm that destroyed her, and then, after a while, she just wouldnât be crumbling as much.
ââŚI do not know. I guessâŚâ She sighed. âAll you can do is wait.â
âItâs torture.â
âYes.â
âI want to see him again.â
Neytiriâs heart skipped a beat. âI know.â
âIt feels like the world has ended, and everyoneâs just pretending like nothing happened.â
That sentence brought new tears to Neytiriâs eyes. Socorro oddly hit the arrow on that one. It really did feel like a silent apocalypse at times; like everything after Neteyamâs death was an afterlife, a ghost remaining of the world that had once existed.Â
But she felt that way before. The world had died before, one too many times, and yet here she still was, pushing on. It is thanks to her family that she once more found happiness and saw how her life could yet be full of love and purpose.
ââŚThe sun, Socorro. Look to the sun.â
âWhat..?..â
Neytiri clenched the weaved floorboards of the pier. âThe pain is agonising, and the tragedy may seem endless, but the sun will always rise. No matter what happens here on Eywaâeveng, itâll greet us the very next morning.â
Spider looked up at Polemius; a giant orb with swirly patterns, gracing Pandorian sky.
âThe sun will always rise.â Neytiri said, carefully, ever so carefully, moving her hand towards his, wanting to take the pain she is so aware of away from a boy so young. âNor is the night starless.â She spoke, their fingers barely touching.
***
Curiously, Neytiri slept like a newborn after the conversation they had. Waking up with the morning rays, she saw that the marui had been emptied of all her family members, but sheâd been tucked into a blanket. Sheâll have to cook something big tonight, to reward her children and husband for working so hard to help Awaâatlu prepare for the future battle with sky people.
However, next to her lay a holo-pad. A human techno device used by Jake to contact their friends at high camp, and sometimes bythe Sully siblings to take photos. Tiredly, she picked up her head and stared at the screen. One of the icons was glowing, and she knew it meant that someone left a message. She pressed on it, expecting barely-comprehensible science gibberish written by Norm or Max.
Instead, it was a message written directly on this device. Neytiri read into the letters, her mind still foggy.Â
Her heart sank into the ground.
Her face went pale.Â
She leapt to a stance immediately, running as fast as she could through the village, a hundred emotions fighting to be felt, and a single question screaming to be answered.
Why?
The eclipse was not yet fully over when the warrior reached rocky cliffs on the edge of the island. Spider stood there, on the tallest edge, as still as a statue.
âWHY THEÂ HELLÂ DID YOU SAVE HIM!?â Neytiri screamed on top of her lungs, a human word escaping her in the state of panic.
Socorro turned to her, his face once more stained with tears, but his expression stone-serious. âI did it becauseâŚ.because he loves me, in his own horrible, fucked up way. He cared, and when push came to shove, he chose me over everything else!â He yelled to be heard over the crashing waves. âNo one has ever done that for me before and, fuck!â He couldnât keep up the front for long. âI love him too! I wish I didnât! I swear I hate that I do! Heâs a fucking monster and I regret my choices! But back there, I couldnât stop myself!â He sobbed. âI was justâŚI didnât want to be abandoned again.â
Neytiri glared at him, frantic, a small part of her wanting, truly wanting to understand, but getting overshadowed by anger and fear.
âFoolish boy! Do you understand what will happen?! He will come back for us! For your siblings!!â
Spider shook his head, breathing rapidly. âNo, no, he doesnât care for them. He only threatened you because he knew it would set off Jake. He wanted to bait him into a fight. It was his only goal all along.â
âTiri hissed, furious. âWhat is the meaning of all this? Why come here, to the outskirts, to say it!? Are you too much of a coward to face your sins head on!?â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm doing.â
Off-handedly, the woman noticed that Socorro wasnât armed.
âAfter yesterday, I made up my mind. I canât make things right, nothing will make it rightâŚbut this nightmare can end with me.â
It took a moment for Neytiri to process what the boy had meant, but when it hit her, she couldnât help taking a step back.
Spider didnât run out here because heâs a coward.
He ran out here to help Neytiri get rid of the evidence.
âYouâŚyou want me to kill you.â
âDonât you?â
Did she?
Neytiri was angry, and grieving, and afraid, and broken what felt like way beyond repair after the tragedies sheâd faced.Â
She hated Spider for whom he saved.
She hated what he represented so much.
SheâŚ
âŚ
She didnât want him to die, she realised, tearing up in frustration at herself. She recalled when he was a baby fitting into the palm of her hand, when he followed her like a little shadow and eager to prove himself, when he played with her children, when he gave Tuktirey one of her first necklaces, when he saved his siblings from the sky people who pursued them out of hellâs gate a year ago, when he went through torture at the hands of RDA, that cause him phantom pains, just to keep Omatikaya and their family safe.Â
For so long, when meeting eyes with the child before her, she only saw Quaritch. A creature that would inevitablt morph into his exact copy.
But now, when it felt like she had gotten all the proof of it in the world, she looked at himâŚ
And only saw Spider.Â
Spider, the human Omatikaya from the forest, and no one else. Milesâs shadow was gone, no longer veiling the blonde away from her.
Neytiri wanted to pluck her eyes out in anger. Why, out of all moments, did she have to see him now? Why did the great mother tortue her so?
She sighed shakily. âI do not what a childâs blood in my hands. I am not him.â
Spiderâs eyes widened, as he stared at her in shock, before eventually frowning and nodding. âRight. Iâm sorry, of course you wouldnâtâŚfuck, I donât know why I thought you would.â
Why did he?
Neytiri hated him, he knew that. They even had an argument once, a short but dramatic one, when the RDA had just returned to Pandora. Heâd been so frustrated at the way she saw him, that heâd exploded on her in return that night, saying that Kiri, Loâak and Tuk were all the family he had because of her war.
He regretted those words every day.
It was another reason to get rid of him. Truthfully, Neytiri had every justification to go through with his murder. Spider wasnât even a creature of Eywa, so could it really that big of a deal?
But, of course it was.
Neytiri is not a monster out to get him, though it seems like Socorro had come to believe it at some point because of her sheer resentment.Â
And then Neteyam died, and everything made sense. Honestly, Socorro had been surprised she didnât actually attempt anything herself. Truly, Tsahaka was a warrior stronger than any other heâd ever met. An ideal Naâvi.
He only wished he could have understood her sooner.
But now he did.Â
âI get it. IâŚâ
And he still needed to make up for his sins.
âItâs time I act like one of the people for once.â
And with those words, Spiderâs exopack flew down the cliff, disappearing into the foam below.
Neytiriâs heart stilled as she watched the blonde choke in slow-motion, before her instincts took over and she leapt into action.Â
Spiderâs limp form in her arms, she ran back to Awaâatlu, counting down the seconds with her every stride.
Sky people only had four minutes to live after loosing air.Â
Awaâatlu resided way further.Â
She wouldnât make it.
But Socorro was not any other human, was he?Â
Neytiri held onto that thought like a life-line as she pushed Metkayina out of her way. Had Spider always been so small? So fragile?Â
She almost missed the entrance when reaching her home, slipping on the weavings, but regained her footing quickly and dropped Spider off on her pallet, rummaging through technical equipment Spellman had brought two weeks ago for the blonde specifically.Â
Somewhere here, it had to be here!
There.
She pulled out a brand new mask, setting a charged battery into the slot before picking up her child and fixing the visor over his face, pressing a button that would start filtrating air.Â
For a gruelling moment, there had been nothing but silence, and Neytiriâs heart kept sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
Itâs been six minutes.
But then, there was a deep, loud inhale, punctuated by frantic coughing and shaking. Neytiri held the blonde as he gulped for air like a fish out of water.Â
A moment or two, Spider had been completely disoriented, frantically looking around him, when his eyes paused, staring into Neytiriâs bright yellow ones, almost glowing in the light of the sun.
Socorro looked heartbroken, on the verge of tears the longer the warrior held him. âWhyâŚwhy did you do it!?â
In response to his panic, Neytiri snapped out of her initial stupor. âI saved your life you ungrateful boy!â She snapped back, yet holding him only tighter.Â
âWha-no! You were supposed-I should have-â He stumbled over his words, distressed. âI should have died!â He sobbed, trying wearily to push Neytiri away, but his strength was no match for hers. âLet GO!â He cried. ââŚplease.â
âTrue warriors do not go out like this.â She hissed.
âIâm not a warrior. Never passed the iknimaya remember!?â He blabbered, still pushing against Neytiriâs shoulders. âEnding it all was the most honorable thing I could do!â
âNo!â She grabbed him by the bicep, forcing him to look up at her. âThe honourable thing would be to own up to oneâs mistake!â
âIt was not a mistake! Donât you get it?! I CHOSE him in that ocean. I sâŚâ He whimpered, loosing his will to fight back. âHe saw me. And I saw him. You canât own up to that kind of shit.â
Neytiriâs hold on Spiderâs bicep tightened, as she searched for something to say; something that would discourage him from trying that kind of blasphemy again, when a crucial memory surfaced in her mind.
âMy mother. The TsahikâŚâ She began. âShe saved a spy once. A spy of the sky people. A spy that helped your father destroy our hometree. That man chose to help our enemyâŚbut he owned up to his choices, and eventually redeemed himself.â
ââŚbut I canât become rider of the last shadow.â
âNo, you cannot, but it isnât why I chose him. He made a commitment of loyalty, and showed us all that he was ready to fight, whether forgiven or not. Youâve made a commitment of loyalty a long time ago. I should have seen it soonerâŚshould have seen you.â She spoke, and it felt like a puzzle piece missing from her damaged soul had finally been put into place.Â
Spider gasped, his heart skipping a beat.
âMaybe if I didâŚthe demon wouldnât be alive.â
âWhat!? No! That-it wasnât your responsibility!â
âIt had to be someoneâs, and I was the closest thing you ever gotten to a mother. That fact alone should haveâŚcleared my mind.â
Socorro wanted to protest, wanted to take the guilt off Neytiriâs shouldersâŚbut had no idea what to say to make it better. Perhaps a small, dark part of him didnât want to, revelling in the newfound validation heâd never felt before.
âI apologise if I made you feel like death was your best chance at redemption.â
It was Spiderâs turn to ho into Neytiriâs shoulder. âNo! No it wasnât you! I just-I brought so much pain already, I thought itâd be best if I stop being a burden.â Spider croaked.Â
âYouâre no burden. Never were.â âTiri responded without missing a beat.
Socorro met eyes with Neytiri once more.
She looked back, not a shred of malice behind her gaze. Hate still raged in her heart.âŚbut the love for this strange child, whom she knew practically since he was born, who put his life on the line for the people, was stronger.Â
He fit perfectly into her embrace.Â
ââŚNever?â
âNever.â
And the world, as these two knew it, shattered. This time however, it felt perfectly fine.
#neytiri & spider#tuktirey te suli neytiri'ite#neytiri sully#neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite#neytiri avatar#jake x neytiri#jake sully#loak sully#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#loâak avatar#loâak te suli tsyeykâitan#tuktirey sully#tuk tuk#tuk sully#tuktirey#kiri te suli kĂŹreysĂŹ'ite#kiri sully#kiri avatar#avatar spider#spider te suli tsyeyk'itan#spider is adopted#Spider is the adoptive son of Neytiri#Spider is the adoptive son of Jake
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I'll probably have more to say about this later bc I'm going to sleep soon, but I feel like, you, oliveroctavius, me, and a few other people are like the small minority I've seen anywhere who actually criticize TASM for the eugenics and ableism, and it honestly floors me that no one talks about it when it's so blatant and tumblr loves bringing up disability and ableism otherwise? Like, it's not even a case of how everyone has valid differing opinions and needs/wants when it comes to how the vast range of disabled experiences should be approached in fiction and there's nuance in how to do even tricky, but real experiences like grief and loss - we're talking about a film series where an antagonist meant to be sympathetic makes a speech about disability being a weakness of humanity that must be genetically eradicated to strengthen it (which is never deconstructed or challenged) and has no other characterization beyond sad amputee whose only interest for a decade is his missing arm, and where Peter is some kind of genetic chosen one whose Good Genes give him cool powers, and the whole mess with Harry.
The few other times on tumblr I've seen it brought up is to like, woobify (internalized) ableism even though the films go way beyond realistic personal struggle and straight into eugenics, and as someone with a Lizard niche in the Spidey fandom, I'm floored at how everywhere else, I keep seeing the TASM version of the character topping best adaptation discussions by a huge margin compared to way better takes with zero references of the ableism (this was not the case even a few years ago, idk what happened), and you can correct me on this if I'm wrong bc you would know more about the Harry side of things than me, but I feel like TASM!Harry used to be very popular and be moved, at least until MSM2017 and Insomniac came along.
Hi sorry my brother just graduated college. Anyways, in regards to the Harry side of things, I think a lot of the ableism SHOULD be pretty obvious, but apparently itâs not considering how little critical thought there is with all these villains. Thereâs the good genes bad genes eugenics of Harry wanting Peterâs blood to cure himself and then it doesnât work because the spider only worked with Peterâs âgood genesâ (I donât care about their in canon excuse, it still buys into this trope) and it reacted so badly with the TERMINALLY ILL CHARACTERS âbad genesâ that he turned crazy and evil. And thatâs ignoring my general distaste for disability or âinsanityâ being used primarily as a source of fear for the good, noble, and of course able bodied protagonists.
Something thatâs also pretty weird that nobody mentions is the fact that like, Electro in these movies just HAD to talk to nothing. Normally it wouldnât bother me as much or I might be willing to give it a pass, but itâs these movies, which just love to make their disdain for disabled people clear, so it comes off as super bad taste.
Like⌠Iâm only scratching the surface. Why are there three people who consistently point out how ableist these movies are? Especially when as you said, tasm Harry is pretty popular! Ignoring my beef with him as a Harry Osborn, itâs so odd to me because so much of that is either like, sort of romanticizing his chronic illness and breakdown or getting off on that ableist insanity I mentioned earlier.
And when you bring it up, people get SUPER defensive. I donât know if like, the amount of invalid criticism just makes people defensive or if it makes people think thereâs NO valid criticism but like⌠these movies arenât bad for the reasons you think. The issues they have are like⌠the writing saying that eugenics is cool and fun alongside generally iffy writing.
#Iâm gonna tag#tasm ableism talk#for filtering#harryposting#harry osborn#peter parker#curt connors#max dillon#spider man#spiderman#tasm#tasm2#the amazing spider man#the amazing spider man 2
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whumptober 2023 day 2 : bloody hands
Swat, Street centric
warnings : blood & injury, fighting, fight rings, mentions of past child abuse
It becomes an endless loop, work, sleep, work, sleep, a rinse and repeat routine that heâs grown used to. Accustomed to at this point.
Itâs no longer exciting, no longer fulfilling, he watches as the cases pass by. Day by day, they become less real, less tangible. He doesnât feel the satisfaction he used to after arresting a criminal or after returning a victim to their family, it feels trivial in a way. Itâs just whatâs expected.
But this is what he wanted. He wanted to help people day in and day out, itâs what he signed up for, age eighteen and a dream of becoming someone people would turn to instead of run away from. He softened his edges and lost his barbed wire eyes and filed his fangs down and wiped away the blood.
He got what he wanted. He grips the cold porcelain sink with white knuckles, the buzz of people talking and moving near him nips at his ears. He hasnât know silence since he was buried in his mothers womb, unbeknownst to the chaos and violence that would soon become his life. He wonders if it was peaceful before it all came tumbling over him, he wouldnât know, he canât remember a day without the drip of roughness sliding down from his eyes to his cheeks and eventually to his mouth.
He can taste it when he wakes up in the morning and before he goes to bed, the urge to pounce and become feral again. He tells himself he threw that all away, fixed it, heâs better now and who he has always dreamed of. He keeps his arguments buried in his chest and forces his eyes away when they talk. Heâs become good at hiding the lurking unsettled feelings.
Rinse and repeat. Work, sleep, work, rinse and repeat. Repetition. He swallows his anger, his grief, his need to run, to have chaos again.
Thereâs a little part of him, a broken part, that misses when things werenât rinse and repeat. Misses when things were bruises and running and screaming and crying and laughing and all those things over, but in a different order, in different amounts. That was better to stomach. Itâs odd to be out of it now, because how is he supposed to cope with the mundane? With the repeating days?
With what he wanted.
Is this what he wanted?
He begged for peace and quiet, clawing at the walls for someone to make the world easier, to give him the freedom he wanted. This doesnât feel like freedom though, it feels like being caged.
He can feel how the iron bars sting his skin, they grow smaller each passing day, each practiced conversation crushing his chest, bringing the past chaos to the forefront of his mind. He misses baring his teeth and claws, misses the drip of blood that stained his skin, misses the euphoria that comes with adrenaline pumping and roars building in his throat.
And maybe thatâs why he stands with bloodied knuckles and sweat beating down his skin. Itâs humid out, he hasnât noticed it in what feels like years but itâs humid, hot, itâs a nostalgic feeling of summer lacing his skin.
He throws another punch.
The blood splashes off of the other persons face, some of it lands on his chest, he doesnât care. This feels good. Feels un-caged, feels feral, primal, feels familiar. He knows how to do this and unlike the rinse and repeat that heâs been doing, this lets him breathe easy.
He gets hit. The bruise will form soon, bloom over his skin pretty purples and blues, he smiles with that knowledge. This feels familiar too, the ache of his side, the split of his lip, the throb of hot pain spreading under his skin. He smiles under the gush of blood coating his teeth, the copper taste is nice, reminds him of childhood. He likes this.
More blood spills, more hits are landed, more bruises will be starting to form soon. The sirens come, he runs, and he feels free as he does.
His legs burn and shake under however long heâs been running. The pain of the bruises hasnât set in bad enough to stop him but the blood has dried over, a tacky feeling when he touches his finger to his lip, not daring to glance at himself yet.
His phone buzzes twice, a case.
He makes it to the locker room without running into anyone, stripping his t shirt off before making his way to the mirror. His hair is tousled and greasy with sweat, pupils blown wide with adrenaline, blood painted on his skin and a purple bruise forming on his eye. He looks like himself, thatâs his first thought, he doesnât look like the stranger thatâs been staring back at him for months, this is him.
Other people start to file into the locker room, Street washes the blood from his hands, fixated on how it swirls down the drain. He finds comfort in it, heâs seen it so many times, since he was a child, his racing heart starts to slow at it.
âKid?â Hondos voice waivers in, itâs dulled by the blood pumping in Streetâs ears. He switches the water off and turns towards Hondo despite it, the rest of the team standing there waiting too.
âYou okay?â His boss looks so worried and concerned, he shouldnât be. Street cracks a smile to try and ease the people in front of him, nodding that yes heâs fine. Heâs okay, more than okay, he feels fucking electric, feels free.
âKid youâre bleeding.â Shit thereâs a gash on his side, he mustâve gotten it jumping that fence when the cops showed up to the fight ring he was at. He grabs his discarded shirt to wet it in the sink before pressing it to the bleeding slice, it doesnât hurt, heâll be fine. He tells the team heâll be okay but they donât seem to believe him.
âWhat happened?â Chrisâs voice is thick, eyes tracking over Street over and over again, trying to find more injuries he presumes. He tells her nothing happened and moves to grab the first aid kit he keeps in his locker, thereâs one on the wall but Street has his own personal one, it has more than the one on the wall.
He takes the shirt away from the injury and contemplates if he needs stitches or not. He thinks he can get by without them, instead he slaps some ointment on it and a nice sized bandage. He could do a better job but he doesnât care that much, he can fix it later if he needs to. Right now all that matters is the familiar feeling of chaos mixed with calm swirling under his skin, he doesnât think he can have one without the other.
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Worthy (2015) | Chapter 24, "I'll Always Find You"
Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.
Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.
Disclaimer: From here on, at the time of writing Worthy I ran out of canon to go on from the films. Everything from here, forward, is pure HC about what I thought the fight with Thanos and the RagnarĂśk might look like based solely on existing canon and the title release cards.
Summary: Cora contends with her newborn grief over Lokiâs demise. An audience with the âAllfatherâ comes with an unexpected twist. An old foe begins his greatest onslaught.
Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC
Warnings: Grief
Word Count: 3.3k
Cora inhaled slowly as her back pressed against the chamber door, closing it with a soft click and turning the latch until she heard the lock turn home with a hollow sound. Her eyes closed in time with the door and leaned her head back against the gold paneling with a dull thud, her fingers sliding over the door handle until her hand slipped off entirely to hang at her side.
Loki was dead. And she'd been right about him all along.
Her throat tightened painfully and when she opened her eyes next, the white scleras were red with inflamed blood vessels, saline glossing them over and collecting at the rims. About this, she'd been wrong though. She still had energy to grieve. She would always have energy to grieve and mourn and it came in full force this time just as it had with all the others.
It would have hurt whether he was a truly merciless villain through and through as so many others had thought or the misunderstood prince he'd turned out to be. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Not anymore. Nothing excused what he'd done, but he had redeemed himself when it mattered and that meant so much more than any lingering reputation. People could change. It just took an immense amount of strength for them to do so. Slipping back into old ways was more than possible, it was easier, but she would never know if his change would stick. Neither would Thor or Odin or the Warriors Three or anyone else who had doubted him. Maybe that was a good thing.
Cora clenched her jaw and shook off the thoughts, blinking hard and exhaling at last in a gust, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed until she figured out how to control herself enough to get to work on something productive. Hell, what would she even do now? She hadn't thought much past meeting her Asgardian relatives or any possible outcomes with Thor and Loki apart from everyone coming back alive and okay. It had just seemed impossible for them to fail, even if Thor had ultimately triumphed at the cost of his brother's life.
As she sank into her seat, she crossed her ankles and habitually tucked them back just enough to breach the bedskirt. Her brow arched faintly as she felt her heel hit something under the bed and she leaned forward, reaching to find whatever she'd tapped with her foot, her fingers hooking in a fabric strap. Pulling against the strap, she tugged what turned out to be her purse forward, having forgotten about it entirely after surrendering it to a couple of Frigga's handmaidens upon her arrival when they'd insisted she take a bath to cleanse her wounds.
Setting her purse in her lap, she hesitated before slowly unzipping the main compartment, figuring it could serve as a temporary distraction to root through familiar souvenirs from her home world. She'd rifled briefly through tiny trifles like her car keys (now useless since Clint had put an arrow through where said key would have gone and by this point, her car had probably been towed or confiscated by SHIELD), a couple stray keychains, some old receipts, and keys to her apartment by the time she got to her billfold, grimacing as she unsnapped the clasp and unfolded it.
A soft smirk found her face as she looked down at her driver's license and old school ID along with all her debit, credit, and gift cards lining the pouches inside and thinking how useless they all were here. Cora slid her nail behind the first layer and turned it over, her throat constricting as she looked down at the picture there, faded from the years, of her as a child with her parents.
"Never gets easier," she murmured softly, her fingertips stroking the plastic covering the photograph before she shut and zipped her billfold, replacing it in her purse before taking out her phone.
Out of simple curiosity, Cora depressed the "home" button and felt a sincere sensation of shock when the screen lit up for her to swipe and unlock it. "Can bet there's no wifi hereâŚ," Cora commented with some of her usual snark returned and looked over the apps, opening up her photo gallery and starting from the top. High school "selfies" with friends, snapshots of old photos of her parents, a couple shots of her grandmother and her grandmother's golden retriever, Nell, and countless pictures of flowers, trees, and landscapes out in California. She had to admit that she missed it there after all this time away. It felt like ages.
When she neared the end, she nearly went to the home screen again, but she stopped, noticing a small, somewhat blurry final picture she didn't remember being there. It was nestled right beside a short video she'd taken at a music festival she'd gone to in Central Park perhaps a month before all of her problems involving SHIELD had begun. Narrowing her eyes, she touched the square screen-cap and it expanded to fill the screen.
When she pressed "play," her features went blank with disbelief as a jostling video of Loki began. Realizing she had it muted after a few moments, she paused it and put it back to the start, turning up the volume. His hair was shorter here, he even had a bit of color left in his face, but his brow was pinched with determination and utter frustration. Even before she pressed "play" again, she knew this was a mistake, but that didn't stop her.
"Damn, how do I⌠Ah, right, got it!" his voice played through the speakers, and Cora felt like she'd swallowed a handful of needles as a triumphant grin broke across his face, and she was finding it hard to breathe properly again. She stayed strong as his eyes moved over what had been her phone screen, but she had no idea why he'd had it on in the first place. She couldn't even remember when he might've had access to it.
He continued to mutter, something about messages and addresses, and she could only think that he was trying to figure out how to work the phone and that was how he'd accidentally triggered the app for the camera in the first place. Cora laughed softly as he grew frustrated with the technology, her free hand moving to touch her mouth as she watched, even as her heart hurt in a peculiar way at seeing him like this. Maybe because she never would again.
Finally, something favorable happened for him and he started to calm down, soon smirking and declaring victoriously, "Nice try, Cora, I'll always find you."Â
Her smile slowly faded as the video ended there when he locked the phone, her numbness resonating once before beginning to lift and leave her defenseless. Cora sucked in a short breath and moved the track forward again to just seconds before that fateful phrase, listening to it one more time.
"Nice try, Cora, I'll always find you."
She locked her phone after the second run-through and felt her features contort just before a sob was torn from her chest, escalating until she bowed her body so her forehead rested against her knees, her hands still holding her phone against her chest as she wept painfully into the fabric of her gown. Her form flickered as she sank into her own agonizing grief, fading out entirely more than once as she lost control of herself. That was how he'd found her in California at her grandmother's supposed funeral, which had turned out to be a scam. He'd handed her phone back to her once he'd arrived and held her hand on their way back.
Cora cried hard enough to cause muscle strain throughout her body, tension making her ache, but not nearly so much as her own emotions. "Well, find me now," she murmured softly, shaking her head as she flashed back to what he'd said out of spite, that she couldn't save anyone. Not because she still felt ire toward him over it, but because it was terribly true. She hadn't been able to save her parents, she hadn't been able to save Frigga, and she hadn't been able to save him either. This knowledge made her utterly miserable.
A knock on her door made her clear her throat carefully enough to weakly answer, "Yes?"
"Lady Cora, the Allfather desires an audience with you," a man, who she could only guess was a guard, said politely through the door and a faint hint of guilt in his voice told her that he realized she wasn't in the best condition at the moment, even if he didn't understand why.
"Lady," she repeated softly with a strained smirk as she slowly sat up and let her phone slip back into her purse. "That's a new oneâŚ" Then to him, she said more loudly, "I'll be just a moment. Thanks."
Cora set her purse aside and stood, checking herself in the nearby mirror and wiping the tear streaks from her cheeks as she mulled over what Odin could possibly want from her. Maybe to kick her out. Talk to her about Loki. He had to be hurting a bit over this, he just had to be. Whether or not they admitted it, they were family and the loss of both his wife and one of his sons was likely to be weighing heavily upon him. She left the chamber and walked with the guard outside to the throne room, where he bowed and left her at the door.
Taking a deep breath, Cora walked through the doors the standing guards opened for her, listening to them settle closed behind her. She started walking toward the throne where the Allfather lounged, holding Gungnir as he watched her progress. Something was different though⌠There were no guards around; it was just them in the throne room.
That wasn't what was bothering her though, it was about Odin. He seemed less formal, but maybe that was because there were no guards around. She might've thought it was grief exhausting him, but as she approached and his features came into focus, she noted that he was oddly calm. "YouâŚwanted to see me?" she said uncertainly, stopping midway down the carpeted aisle.
"Indeed," he said simply, raising his hand as he leaned forward a little. "Come closer. I do not care for shouting needlessly across the room." Cora stepped forward slowly and he hesitated a long time before he continued to answer her question. He seemed to divert from whatever he was originally going to say and noting instead, "I suppose I mean to ask what you plan to do in regard to your ties between Midgard and here. Whether you willâ"
"That's what you're concerned about?" Cora interrupted with slight incredulity. "How much longer I'll be taking up a room in your palace?"
An expression of surrender bloomed on his aged face and his demeanor seemed to shift to one of weary defeat. "A room is of little importance, but I believe I must tell you thatâ"
"That, what?" Cora demanded, suddenly escalating toward anger. "That I have to figure out what I'm going to do, go through some kind of immigration process in order to stay here, be the only one in this damn place to grieve for your son? How can you sit there and just," she struggled for words, "keep going?!"
His grey brow furrowed subtly and he squinted at her features. "Your eyes are red. Something ails you?" he asked softly, studying her and seeming to lapse back into his former manner.
Grimacing at the fact that her eyes were reddened with her earlier tears, Cora felt her proverbial hackles rise and she shot back, "What 'ails me' is what should be ailing you! Your son just died, do you feel nothing for that?!"
"He is not my son," Odin said coolly.
"What kind of monster are you?!" Cora demanded loudly, feeling her tears beginning anew from two parts frustration, one part grief. Same old song and dance. "How can you just decide not to mourn him? He died for a man who is your son, you won't deny that!"
"You grieve his loss," Odin observed quietly, seeming baffled by her reactions.
"And you don't," she retorted defensively.
"Why do you?"
Cora looked up at him on his golden throne and, in that moment, she hated him. She truly hated him, but she knew the feeling was temporary. She so rarely held a grudge, it was almost an inability of hers to do so. "Because I care," she said quietly. "Because I'll miss him. That's why anyone grieves. The loss and what they will never get to say."
"And what will you never have the chance to say?" the Allfather asked with almost too much curiosity, but Cora didn't notice as she was more concerned with wiping the stray moisture from her eyes.
She floundered for words, struggling to articulate before she grimaced and shook her head. "What does it matter now? And what the hell do you care?" she asked fiercely, glaring up at him as he got to his feet and slowly made his way down the steps to her level.
"It's a bitâŚ," he began hesitantly, which was the first time she'd ever seen Odin grow hesitant, but as she watched, he began to change. A familiar green aura slowly grew over his form, which lengthened and thinned as she watched, her eyes widening as she reflexively took a step back.Â
When the light faded, Loki stood in Odin's place, looking down at her with a mixture of interest and wariness. "Complicated," he finished lamely, pursing his lips into a thin line.
"ButâŚyouâŚ," Cora mumbled confusedly as he stopped a few steps in front of her, looking up at him with bewildered eyes still red and watery from crying. "Thor saidâŚ"
"Thor left before I could heal. I'm still not entirely whole, but," he paused, looking down at her thoughtfully. "I am alive. Obviously, but⌠Cora, I don't know how you could forgive me for the things I said to you, but if youâ"
"Stop," Cora said harshly, raising a hand. Loki closed his mouth and glanced toward the floor, knowing he had been foolish to think she might be forgiving after finding out he was alive, particularly after he hadn't told her straightaway that the Odin she'd approached on the throne had, in fact, been him.
Cora's hands were shaking and her voice shook faintly as she said again, "JustâŚstopâŚ," just before she stumbled forward and closed the distance in two long strides, throwing her arms around him. Loki jolted in shock and looked down at her, his arms half-raising of their own accord though he hesitated. "You're such an idiotâŚ," she mumbled against his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to make up for the height difference.
Loki sighed and a faint smile crossed his face as he wrapped his arms strongly around her, ignoring the dull pain in his chest as he held her close and moved one of his hands to gently cradle the back of her skull. It was amazing how the simple act of being able to touch her after all this time was able to ease his mind. "I know."
Cora laughed quietly through new tears of relief, not entirely inclined to loosen her hold, though she did after a moment. As she eased back to standing flatly on her feet and let him go, she sighed, looking up at him and finding that her smile was lingering, despite it all. "I forgive you. Let's just move on, okay?"
Loki smiled back at her and had shifted his hand from the back of her head to her cheek when they broke their hold, softly stroking the line of her cheekbone without entirely realizing he was doing so. "Okay."
The moment was broken when the air changed into an unnerving state of stillness. Loki's smile faded and his eyes shifted from Cora to the entry doors, a hum filling the air just before a snarl twisted his lips and he grabbed her, taking them both down to the golden floor. A sonic wave lashed through the already weathered throne room, sending stones crumbling and gold adornments cracking up the sides. A fissure formed in the floor and it split the throne up the middle.
"What's happening?" Cora shouted over the roar of breaking rock and warping metal, reaching up and covering the back of Loki's head as a fragment of rock hurtled toward it, causing it to slice her hand instead.
Loki glanced around with a feral sort of desperation, not knowing whether to keep their position on the floor or get them both to a safer place, though the presence filling the room felt horribly familiarâŚ
âI warned you that failure was not an option, Loki Laufeyson.â
With the voice came pain of agonizing force that overtook his senses as it had time and time again in Chitauri lands, causing his limbs to shudder as he held himself over Cora, trying to protect her even as he felt like he was being ripped apart. He opened his scrunched eyes to look at her when he heard her gasp loudly, finding her choked with agony as well, her hands tight against her skull as she curled from the inflicted pain.
"Thanos!" Loki roared, enraged that the torture he knew too well was now being used on Cora as well.
"No need to scream, little giant. I am all. I will bring ends to all," Thanos promised with a deep chuckle. Another sonic wave caused the architecture to groan and shudder and Loki gathered Cora closer to keep them both grounded and try to comfort her as the familiar torment continued on, murmuring softly in her ear that it was all in her head and it would end soon.
Loki glanced up when he heard a rumble from deep underground and then crashing until the palace vault, uprooted from its cavernous home broke through the floor and the air went suddenly still again. The enchantment on the vault was breached and a void opened upon the impossibly thick metal door, a blue glow surfacing slowly until the cubical shape of the Tesseract rose up, at once enclosed by the void.
At that moment, a vision of fire into darkness, of burning cities and melting golden reaches, of screaming and death and the universe folding in upon itself washed over him and Loki's jaw clenched as he glanced around at Asgard's royal fortress, a mass of fragmented gold and stone encircling him as the rest of Asgard lay in ash and dust, the sky breaking apart above him. He knew this sight.
The vision faded when he blinked, breathing hard as the mental infliction of implied pain finally faded from his mind, relieved when he felt Cora relax in his arms as well. The bastard never showed himself, but one last threat flowed through the room and echoed twice over. A threat that sent deep chills through his bones and was even enough to pale the fair skin of the trickster god's face.
"Prepare yourself for the final death, son of ice. The RagnarĂśk begins."
Next chapter: Chapter 25, "Gems of Power"
#loki laufeyson#loki x fem!oc#loki x oc#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#loki fluff#thor odinson#thor movies#thor the dark world#avengers#marvel cinematic universe#angst with a happy ending#slow burn
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Irresolute Feelings (Chapter 3) | Volokari
  Silence was heavy. Unbearable.
  One lone woman pressed her back against the wall. Her head tilted upwards, wide eyes staring at the tall man whom she loved but now feared. Colour almost drained from her face. The expression he wore was void of joy. A deep frown stretched his mouth. Though blonde bangs covered half of his face, shivers ran down her spine to see such a cold, sharp glare pierced directly at her.
  Her heart racedâshe didnât want this to be the cause.
  âUmâŚâ Her mouth was agape, shivered. âAreâŚyou okay?â She sniffed not a whiff of alcohol on him. He didnât look dirty either; not a speck of dirt nor blood that implied that he was doing business outside of town. Both palms pressed against the wall, one hand however twitched in hesitance on whether or not she should reach out for him.
  Silence continued to slice her into two.
  He looked at her. Dotted pupils focused from head to toe. She was home. She was home. That was all that came to mind when he saw her sandals near the entrance. Sheâs here. Sheâs here. That was all that bubbled in his head when he stepped into herâtheir house.
  Sheâs mine. Sheâs mine. That was all that boiled inside his mind when he saw her in the room. Akari. Akari.
  He saw her with someone else. Akari. He saw her with that bastard of a man. Akari. Akari. She was so close with that fucker. So close. Their bodies were touching. Akari. Their hands were holding. Akari.
  Anger fumed through flared nostrils. Akari. Grey eyes landed on her, witnessing such fear that once bared its presence for the first time in the Temple of Sinnoh. Akari. The hand on the wall slowly curled into fists, dull nails digging into the flesh of his callous palm.
  Akari. He saw her. He saw her so close with someone else! Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari Akari AKARIâ!
  âVoloâŚâ
  Her voice grounded him back to earth.
  Once again, he looked at her.
  He hated that expression on her face.
  A frown quivered such pink lips. Taking a deep breath, Akari met his gaze. âWhatâs wroâ?â
  âHow was your day, dear?â
  The questionâso off-putting; so eerily calmâcaught her off guard. âIt was good.â A simple short reply. She wasnât ready to reveal the actions of hours ago, but judging by his actions now, Akari didnât know if sheâs ever ready. âI and Reiââ
  His fist by the side of her head curled tighter.
  ââsubdued an Alpha Luxray today. It was terrifying, but we managed to escape.â Her words were careful. Calculated. Jet black eyes never once broke from his intense gaze. Fear may have taken root, but courage steadily crept up as this was not the first time that she had ever seen him like this.
  At least, this was a first since they started being together.
  âReiââ
  A sharp breath hissed through gritted teeth.
   ââgot wounded pretty bad on the ankle so I had to bring him back to the village for better treatment. Heâs okay now.â Her mind tried to calculate the situation they were in. Volo clearly wasnât in a good mood. This wasnât the first time. Ever since they lived together, they both knew how to keep a proper amount of distance when they needed to. Just because their feelings were mutual didnât mean that it was always sunshine and roses. Akari soon realized Volo still had to adapt to the world he swore to destroyâjust as he had to understand the sheer grief she had to face when she lost her own world.
  Usually, they did their own matters after a fightâthough often petty onesâand made up, at worst, the day after. Sometimes their apologies were verbal. Sometimes their apologies were physical.
  In the end, it would all end well.
  But now, as she remained stuck between a wall and him, Akari couldnât tell if this would too.
  A single gulp slid down a dry throat. âSoâŚyeah.â She was dumbfounded. âI ahâŚcame home early because I wasâŚâ The words a breathy murmur, Akari forced herself to look at him. ââŚtiredâŚâ
  He squinted. His frown never left.
  âHmmâŚâ was all he said next. Finally, he moved his other hand. âAnd this?â Fingers lightly brushed the scar on her right cheek. Volo watched as she flinched. Be it from his touch or the pain, he didnât know.
  If it was the former, then he didnât know how to convince himself otherwise when he remembered her touch with the other Galaxy member.
  Fury was a dangerous master as it could easily take over a personâs body.
  One minute, he was caressing her cheek, fingers brushing the fresh wound that seemed so easy to tear open if he pierced his nail through.
  The next, his left hand roughly grasped her lower jaw, fingers pressing against a vein in her neck.
  The action and shock caused her to cough. âV-VoâŚloâckâŚâ Strong hands pressed against her jaw, forcing her mouth to open. Dark eyes widened, tears near forming the sides at the sudden pain. Quickly her hands whipped to his left hand, yet his strength and the bafflement of the situation disabled her to pry him away.
  âDid you have fun with Rei today?â His fingers pressed against her neck.
  âWhaâughâŚ!â Her words became wheezes.
  âDid you?â He leaned closer, hand still firm on her face. A smile finally broke apart, yet honesty was nowhere to be seen. âDid you feel safe with him around?â His forehead bonked against her, pushing her head hard against the wall.
  Her vision was getting blurry.
  âAaaahâŚand here I was, worry to my witâs end.â He cocked her head upwards. âAnd yet, what did I see?â Blind anger seethed as it scraped her pale face.
  Akari tried and tried again. But all she could do, all she could see, was the man she loved turning into a living nightmare. âV-VoâŚâ
  âYou.â
  His word was laced with venom. It punctured her heart. Tore her chest apart.
  His body pressed against hers. Coat be damned as Volo harshly pressed his hips against hers. âYou being so close to another man. You talking about another man.â His grip loosenedâjust for a few secondsâbefore he shocked her again by jolting her face closer. âYou being so vulnerable to everyone when you clearly belong to me.â
  A single tear trickled down her cheek.
  âYou told me you love me.â He rubbed against her. A low groan exhaled as he felt his cock brushing her thigh. It felt good. He hated it. He hated it! âYou told me you love me.â
  Another and another tear soaked her cheeks and his hand.
  It hurt.
  It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.
  He saw. He saw.
  However, jealousy was a disease.
  âHow dare youâŚâ he whispered, weak and seething still. âHowâŚdare youâŚâ
  âVol-loâŚâ A whimper of a name escaped. âS-Stoââ
  âHow dare youâŚâ He couldnât hear her anymore.
  âStoââ
  Body flushed hard against her. Hand clutched madly onto her jaw. âHowâŚâ His body moved on instinct. Fingers still digging into her throat, Volo watched as those beautiful dark eyes grew red. ââŚdareââ
  Pupils dilated slightly at the sight of her. The image formed thorns of guilt, stabbing his heart mercilessly until he himself had lost breath.
  He didnât want this. He should stop. He needed to stop. He didnât want to hurt her. ââYOU!â
  âSTOOOP!â
  Taking advantage of the brief moment of weakness, Akari roughly wiggled her face away from his hand and screamed.
  SLAM!
  Everything happened too fast.
  The first moment, they were pressed onto the wall. Akari could barely breathe. A horrible hurricane of panic, fear, and sorrow overcame her to a total stupor.
  The second moment, once her shout rang through, Akari felt breathless.
  A gasp and many coughs escaped her tight lungs once she was released. Thud. Weakly, she fell to the floor. One hand clutched her chest. The other shakily caressed her neck. Tears still trickled down her cheeks. Her head rapidly spun, but Akari knew fainting wouldnât help the situation right now.
  Kneeling on the tatami mat, she looked forward.
  Pupils shrunk to dots to see the back of her Hisuian Typhlosion. Raging flames of purple and red lit up the area. If not for the wide space of the room, it wouldnât be a surprise that the place could be burned down.
  Akari needed to stop this.
  Meanwhile, while horror stunned the woman, her starter was fueled with nothing but manic rage.
  âYouâŚâ Bloodred eyes shot to tiny dots as he glared at the groaning man. âYouuuuâŚ.â He stood tall, head cocked upwards as he glared at the pathetic human below. Fangs were borne ferociously. Claws were out and gleaming at every tip. The fur on his body prickled from head top to bottom. If Belial were to take one step forward, one would swear that a fire could be formed right where he stood,
  Taken aback by the violent push, Volo carefully pushed himself upright. Confusion was immediately replaced with terror once he saw him.
  Belial didnât move. He stood in front of Akari. He stood between his beloved human and the bastard of a creature. His glareânearly demonic and hollowâbore holes into Voloâs skull.
  He should have never let him live with her. He should have never let this sleazy man slither back into her life. From the day he met him as a Cyndaquil, Belial had a bad feeling about it. And the feeling only grew stronger and stronger each time they met.
  But he kept quiet. He kept his silence and watched.
  Akari may love the vile man honest and true. She may have accepted him despite what he had done to her. And Belial respected that. He respected her choices as long as it made her happy.
  But now.
  Now.
  As she kneeled on the floor, shivering and crying, Belial knew Volo would always be the one who would never be able to make her happy.
  With that resolution in mind, he slowly tilted his head.
  Without a word, without a sound, wisps of purple coated around his mane. The fire from the hearth disappeared immediately. Silence intensified furthermore, almost breathless. Even though night time was filled with stars and the moon, all was an abyss inside the quaint house.
  Nothing except fumes of purple and two dots of red.
  Panic seeped in the poor blonde. As he scrambled backwards, all he saw was a smoke of skulls above the bloodthirsty Hisuian Typhlosion.
  Realizing what Belial was about to do, Akari had another set of alarms setting her off. âBelial stoâ!â
  Unfortunately, before another scream could be finished, he unleashed Infernal Parade.
#Volokari#Volo#Akari#Pokemon#Fafar Writes#first off: can you BELIEVE i manage to write and finish a thing for 2 days in a row??? WOWEE!!#GO ME!!#second of all: hehe#again. dialova changed my writing style and i regret not once#also i love putting cliffhangers teehee. my fav#Hisuian Typhlosion#i forgot my boy fjbsdjkfd
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SO I HAD AN IDEA
as I normally do when Iâm hyperfixating, I decided to write fanfiction bc sometimes the source material doesnât/canât give us anything and everything.
anyway I hear thereâs a discussion about Astarion being a good dad vs Astarion being a bad dad. And apparently Neil Newbon himself declared the latter. Iâm definitely inclined to agree.
SO I made an OC whoâs father is Astarion. And drew up a character sheet for them. But the character sheet is rly messy and is drawn onto sketchbook paper so that wonât be shown till I can make it neat and legible lol
Anyway, read below the cut for more info (TW: mentions of suicide)
Dawn was born to Selene Windor, an elven poet and artist in a small port town. Her father, she never knew, only hearing stories artfully crafted by Selene.
Selene had lived on the Seaview Docks for a long time, a number of human generations. She was an elf after all. She knew the residents and in time would know the residentsâ grandchildren. They knew her as well. The old, yet eternally young bard who lived on the edge of town.
But of course, this tended to get old. Hundreds of equinoxes and solstices blended together into beautiful and torturous monotony. She longed for excitement.
When an outsider visited, which rarely happened at the docks, save for fishers and merchants, everything changed. It was sparked by a mere few seconds of eye contact under the stars.
Selene had been shopping for fish at the night marketâa familiar town tradition where lanterns and stalls decorated the moonlit street once every monthâwhen she saw him. Pointed ears, a sharp jawline, and white curls that rivaled her own pin straight honey blonde. When their eyes met, he paused for a moment then flashed her a toothy grin.
They met in the middle of the market. She asked where he was from, he said âeverywhere.â He asked the same, and she said ânowhere.â She asked his name. He said âwhatever you wantâ with a smile that made Selene want to cry out in joy.
He stayed in town for monthsâthe blink of an eye for an elf. She wrote of nothing but Him, painted Him, loved Him with everything she had, trying to guess a name that she knew would never amount to his beauty and the kindness he showed her.
So he called her his moon, and him her stars.
He offered to take her places, far-away places, more often than not. She politely declined. He even told her the truth about what he was, and she only loved him more for it.
He almost stayed. Almost.
The night before the stars faded he loved her like he had never loved anyone before. More truly than he had loved anyone before. He offered once more to take her away, to somewhere called Baldurâs Gate, a bustling city where her art could grow and travel beyond ports and docks. He even shed a tear of blood when at last he said that heâd take her to meet his family, his voice pleading and sorrowful.
She politely declined.
And he left in the morning. Before she could even tell him that she was with child.
Selene was driven mad with grief, destroying all of the paintings and locking away all of the poems.
When Dawn arrived, she cried. The little girl looked just like him, with wavy blonde hair only a shade away from white. Though she had her motherâs dark brown eyes, or so Selene thought.
Looking closer at the baby, she realized that her dark eyes had just a tint of scarlet over them.
Of course. The baby was a Dhampir.
Throughout Dawnâs childhood, she had to support her mother, who never left the house anymore. She worked when she could and stole when she couldnât. And it was more often than not that she couldnât due to the fact that everyone in the small town seemed to know what she was. The spawn of a vampire spawn.
It was one thing for a child to grow up without any friends. It was a complete other thing for a child to grow up being feared just because she had to drain chickens or raw cow meat from the market to survive.
When she was thirteen, a burglar came through the town. The body was found at the base of the docks after the third night of thievery, drained of blood.
When she was fifteen, it was a merchantâs son. The out of towner survived with a bite mark on his neck and some lightheadedness.
Dawn decided it was best to spend most of her time inside, taking care of her mother.
Selene had written little other than sorrowful poems about lost love, and could no longer remember the face of Dawnâs father to paint again. When she told Dawn the story, she told it with fondness, but would break down in a fit of tears and keening shortly after, if not right in the middle.
Dawn never saw the story as beautiful or fond. She did not see her father as someone who would ever come back and love them both despite her motherâs hysteric protests.
When she was eighteen, Dawn returned home to find her mother on the floor of the kitchen, dead. There was a bottle of poison in her hand and the everlasting look on her face was that of tear stained grief.
She knew this was coming. She knew it would happen eventually. For what elf would want to live for over six hundred years without the one they were convinced was their true love.
And so, the dhampir girl set out, her mind clouded with anger, yet sharp with a thirst for blood and revenge. She would go to Baldurâs Gate. She would find the man who killed her mother, whether it be indirectly or not. And she would kill Him.
Though she was not quite prepared for things to go as awry as they had.
PT2: https://www.tumblr.com/iwritelmao/738342079719178240/pt2?source=share
#I rly donât plan to make this a long form thing#like maybe itâll be a series of one shots#or something like that#you guys can request stuff too with this character#like i think my asks are open#bg3#bg3 oc#baldur's gate 3#dadstarion#astarion bg3#astarion#oc#I love my family of tragic vampire rogues
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the amount of times lira has had to say goodbye to loved ones because despite her ability to grant them immortality , she respects their desire to experience a normal lifespan. it's a different kind of grief when you know you can save someone but love them so deeply that going against their wishes isn't even an option.
roskov , though he lived a much longer life than most wanted to die a warrior's death so when his time came he sought out one last good fight , like any true drengr. though the option to live forever alongside lira was presented to him. she knew he wouldn't accept but she loved him enough to offer it anyway.
i imagine she would have offered kodlak the same option but he too had no desire to overstay his welcome. he wanted an honorable end and to free himself of his beast blood so he could join those who came before him in sovngarde. it's out of great love and respect that the inner circle makes sure his wish is honored , no matter their differing opinions.
its heartbreaking because lira struggles greatly with letting go but she will never deny anyone the freedom to choose. even though the absence of her family will always be felt.
#â˝âŚâž | hc.#`` i haven't made up my mind about lucia yet#i'm not sure if she would also live out her human life#or if she would want to live to see the modern age#a part of me feels like she would also become a child of nature#it's always so heavily ingrained in who she is#and how she cares for other living beings#even as a human#but again -- lira isn't selfish enough to make these kinds of decisions for others#no matter how painful
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NAME. Pelorus AGE & BIRTH DATE. 4000+ & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Demigod ( Spartoi ) ABILITIES. Accumulation & Radar OCCUPATION. MarshalFACE CLAIM. Travis Fimmel
biography
Born from a necromantic fey and the blood of Echidna, Pelorus was one of five spartoi. He had been draped in armor from his inception and had never really known anything less than war. The spartoi had been born from blood so he had never expected anything less than being drenched in it. From the conflicts of the vampire Ares, Thebes was built from nothing on the backs of him and his siblings for those false gods. Pelorus had never been interested in their conflicts though. He was impulsive, unpredictable, but he was also uninterested in things that he thought were trivial. What did they ever need to fight for? Thebes had been built up and he had decided to take up the mantle of ruler because he deemed himself worthy of the title.
His time spent in Thebes had been all he could have expected and more. It seemed fitting that he would find someone to spend his time with, a wife that would rule alongside him. However, it either became Pelorus or her problem that things went sour between them. Their marriage was one of convenience, not of something like love. It was lucky for the two of them that they ended up finding out that they were better off as friends. However, their marriage was more important to the people they ruled and that meant that they would stay together until death came for either of them. It was clearly more likely that, out of the two of them, Pelorus would still be standing well after her death. Until then, he would have given her the world. Of course everyone else would also receive a bit of him as well. If there was one thing the two of them loved to do, it was invite people into their home and bed. Battles would always be there, but they always enjoyed the after the most.
Unfortunately, for Pelorus, her death came sooner than he had expected. Grief was not something he had been able to fully process because he was soon being called to war with his siblings for those vampires that deemed themselves gods. Ares had requested them, but Pelorus had never been more uninterested. He would fight, he would collect blood debts, he would do everything that would need to be done, but none of it ever truly appealed to him. The spartoi had preferred his life in Thebes with the people that looked towards him as if he was a god himself. Perhaps that was why he had deemed himself so worthy of being a vessel to the gods. But nothing good ever truly came from fighting for those that would be considered pretenders.
False gods had taken Cthonius from him and his siblings. The war the ensued from it had pulled him in and caused bloodshed that would amount to nothing. His sibling was dead and fighting had given them nothing to avenge them. Once the battle was over, the four of them had crawled into a slumber that would awaken them several millennia later. Upon waking up Pelorus, had expected better from the world he would have to inhabit now. However, he was no ruler. He was no god. He was just a demigod and he still wanted blood for the death of his sibling. Of course, it would be preferred if he didnât have to do much of the fighting at all. It truly had always been so exhausting.
personality
+ loyal, adventurous, extroverted - lazy, defensive, compulsive
played by kenyer. est. she/her.
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ââââââââââ(korea).
you reached out and touched a dream where it felt like a stovetop burn to your fingers, the tingle and shock of heat almost numbing your entire hand despite it being a very minute burnâ your mind was closed off to this hazy cloud of darkness, how it burnt you to keep you away but you've never learned, not really. not ever. not until much, much later.
still, you shoved your hand past the gates of fog and stumbled into a memory inelegantly, finding your head leaden as though someone could push you from behind and you would go tumbling down the middle of the lane (that's a strike! all ten pins!). a palm came up to steady your head as you stalked through the forest of hanging memories, each one brushing past your curious fingertips but leaving an unpleasant sensation growing in the center of your beating, soft heart. you came to a tree rooted in the heart of the forest, a soft and divinely glow emanating from it and separating it from the normalcy of the other pinesâ a strange feeling pulsed inside of your chest the closer you got to the tree, glimpsing the memory that it holds and recoiling at what you feel, what you see.
you remembered it well, you remembered it clearly. every feeling, every emotion that you had felt once upon a time, it had not left you when you touched the bark of this glowing tree with mushrooms sprouting from its base. your heart ached the more you stood there, the weight of your grief dragging you to your kneesâ dirt coming up in a minuscule cloud of grey whilst tears hit the ground from the sheer amount of pain you felt.
you could not trust yourself like that again; to have loved and loved so ferociously, only for it to have backfired in your faceâ time and time and time again. you remembered the scoffs, the false hope, the way you had stilled yearned for an inkling of reciprocation. you remembered the way you ran in the dark for someone but their back shrunk despite their pace being moderate and you were fast but you still could not keep up. you could never reach them.
you remembered knowing, at that time, that they were gone. truly and cruelly.
a sentient branch extended itself towards your chest, rooting itself within the wounded heart beating within, each tear taped to hold back the flood of blood that would inevitably seep out of his body. the branch had grown there, then, golden leaves spreading just under his skin, thin branches like veins pulsing and creeping down his arms. you were forced to remember in order to heal, you were forced to break down and be ripped apart in order to look elsewhere.
it was a cruel process. one that even your mind nor distractions in the form of people could even think to heal. your heart, branched and mother to a sapling within your chest, yearned for a ghost of what you had considered normalâ this and this and this. that and that and that. this, that, you, him, you-and-him, him-and-you, her, ghosts, grief. grief.
even when you turned to find the exit from your forest of nightmares and grief, this graveyard of withering nature, you become lost and trappedâ difficulty in breathing, you collapsed to the ground again and pressed your head to the dirt. you wanted to scream to the heavens to spare you from this torment, that you did nothing to deserve this, but the heavens and their stars simply replied: oft we must suffer to find what is good. you must feel numb, nothing, to this in order to leave. else, you will find yourself in limbo.
you could not breathe with these revelations. you could not fathom a life without this grief, that this grief had brought you to who you wereâ this anger, these tumultuous and explosive emotions had dragged you by the hand to a place where you felt normal.
you had come to this realization, then. you could not tread like this. you had left korea, not only for the desire of repairing the rift in your heart, but to heal. you would learn to love again in china. you would leave behind the people your trauma clung to.
you rip the hyphae that had begun to curl around your body, eager to drag you into the graveyard soil, and begin your journey.
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Piper had every reason to hate Pierre. No one in her family would even care if she did. Heck, most would not even bat an eye about it. Everyone seemed quite okay with letting Pierre go like he was more trouble than he was worth, but that was the theme of their family. That was the problem and reason why she couldn't let go. Tough love was something their family gave and many didn't respond to well, but that was usually because they refused to learn the lessons they needed to learn. Everyone believed in Maddy, that she could rise above it all. Piper wanted have faith in Pierre.
A big part of her knew that by blood they were nothing. Her daddy adopted Esmeralda. But, it was hard for her to admit that anything her daddy ever touched could betray them like this no matter how self absorbed a person is. He supposed to be family. The end. But, not only that for her. It was hard to let go of the memory of her first friend when coming out of hiding off the island, off the Laveau estate. Pierre was such a turning point in her life.
It was a good kiss. Even Piper missed it. It gave her a panging for more inside, but business first. Her own little smirk came up sly on when she felt the results of her touch. They knew what they were doing to each other.
Pierre had questions. Of course he did. Piper saw him glance over to Seven and Zero who were staring at them rather jaw dropped. She did say they were seeing them kissing so that would seem on the up and up. Piper however saw Pierre wasn't going to squirm away or try to anything funny on her like a time loop for being threatening with him about the Belleroses, but she really wanted him to know how serious she was. She saw there was about to be some quid pro quo on this deal though. She let the grip of her vader-like strangulation release slowly to converse.
She almost thought to be offended as if she wasn't enough to be there until she realized she wouldn't want him to be all clingy and with nothing to focus on other than her. Piper is so not that girl. The very thought left the answer easy to answer. It was going to be more magical work on her part, but way better than the bored Pierre image that just came to her. Not only that but considering how she was going to make this happen, something told her maybe Seven being involved wouldn't be the biggest ask to add on to this miracle.
After releasing her strangle hold she cupped his face instead and it would keep them intimately close. She was also keeping their conversation covered with her hands and arms up in front of their faces. It kept his face directly at hers.
"I'll make it work. Seven too. Tell no one beyond the veil. Not one person in the netherworld. Meet me in an hour at our old spot. It has to be there. Deal? Both of you?"
She was waiting for that yes. That's all she wanted. Leave the Belleroses be. Maybe she'd gained too much power over the past year? Maybe she was tampering with too much and would live to regret it? Flotsam had warned all too often of the consequences of tampering and yet still River, Flotsam, Jetsam all tampered anyhow, and Pierre himself had a power that tampered. No. Piper was going to tamper. She had the brain power to figure this out.
"Say yes. Come back to me, Pierre. Come back to us all."
Then she kissed him again. She kissed him good, and hard, and deep like she was scared it was goodbye. She wasn't convinced he would say yes. There was an extra flair of passion leaking into that kiss, the passion behind all her grief, that spent endless amounts of time on her hourglasses, memorials, and fire weilding with his face in her head. For as intense as it started it would end just as softly.
Whether he said yes or no, no matter what came out of his mouth next, there was another set of eyes on them by this point. It was a set of eyes that looked completely shattered. It was a set of eyes that only recently confessed his love to this woman. He stood there not too far away from Zero and Seven.
It was a set of eyes Dale would love to see shattered out of everyone. It was a set of eyes Willem tried to warn and still would love to see shattered anyway. He was just sort of a pirate like that.
Go-Go didnât know who hip coins was but hey, it sounded like a fun demolition derby type of thing. That was the American dream right there. That was something she wanted to try while she was in this country, and it looked like there might be the possibility of that tonight. Feral was the land of opportunity, it seemed.
âFuck calendars,â She agreed with a nod of her head, the long hair extensions creating a more dramatic effect with this. Sheâd almost forgotten for a minute that she was dressed up, and not in comfortable speed gear. That made it all the more thrilling.
Goddamn that was a roar. She could have never met Jetsam, never seen him, and would know that he was a Laveau just from that call alone. She exchanged an excited look with Scout. Oh hell yeah, this was going to be a night to remember.
More and more people were joining them, which was completely fine, the more the merrier. And was she a little excited that the twins were coming? Yeah. She hadnât seen much of the chaos that she heard that Chip and Dale could cause, not with Chip running his family and creating his own little village. Dale - she knew from first meeting him that he could cause a ruckus, ever since she had seen Anton move.
She was out of the castle with Scout, Halloween party be damned.
--
Bingo! Score! Win 100 tickets!
Ellie suddenly found herself trapped in a box, and without really thinking, she breathed her fire onto it, setting it in flame and stepped out the burning cardboard wreckage, looking around at the culprit, though Babyface had already pinpointed exactly who it was. Goddamn Dale.
âYeah, letâs go,â She agreed, putting her hand on Babyfaceâs back to give him a little extra push as they gave chase to find out what excitement they were up to beyond the castle, red hair blending with the blue sparkles of her costume, creating a brightly-colored blur outta there.
They were out and she was ready to go and chase down the Laveaus some more, already pouting, feeling again like a little sister that was left out of something cool with the older kids. But Babyfaceâs sudden stop and looking out at the water had her slowing her roll, her feet coming to a slow stop, and then she trailed back up to him curiously.
They couldnât see the island from where they were right then. But then again - with the island not getting in fresh shipments of boys, would it even still be running? Would it still have itâs magic? She tilted her head and looked out at how the moon reflected off of the water, hiding so much both above and below itâs depths.
And then she looked at Babyface, the way that he was looking out and she nodded, determination setting in her face. âShould we see if we can steal a boat, or should we skate it?â
--
Seems like Thomas and Valerie were the only ones. Everyone else was greeting the dead, or dealing with an intruder, or running off to do something crazy. Jetsam had barely looked at them, they were were homefree, they could do as they liked, and what Thomas wanted to do, more than anything in the world right now, was to hold his wife and have a good olâ dance with her while Ches was still playing the music.
A full on waltz, one hand in hers, the other around that thin waist that made it hard to believe that she had birthed triplets. She looked damn good. Her body had bounced back incredibly, and oh, he missed that stomach of her sometimes but then there were times like this when they could be close because it wasnât in the way anymoreâŚ
No matter what happened with this body, he adored it, plain and simple.
--
Honestly - Pierre had thought that Piper would hate him too. Shit, seemed like everyone did up top, and they had their reasons. It was valid. It took him over a year in Hell to realize that. Even Zero had hesitated on coming up to him and that was his goddamn pup, so Piper - yeah, he had figured she was pissed.
So Pierre was feeling VERY pleased at his reception right now, a little smug, even.
âAnd I for yours,â Pierre said, his eyes flickering over her face, and how it had not changed much since he had been gone. Those violet eyes, ever so striking, her rich dark hair, so black it was almost blue, the natural dusky tone of her skin. He had a habit of telling those that he was in love with that they were Gods and Goddesses but - Piper stood above the rest.
And even more cocky as she touched him like that, right here, right out in the open. He wasnât shy about it, didnât try pushing her hand away, instead greeted her with a half-chub that started to grow harder. Yes, even the dead can grow, apparently. He closed his eyes into the kiss, his first in what felt like eternity, and the sweetest one he could have imagined. âMissed you too, girl.â
Then things started to get intense. He wasnât opposed to being choked though he wasnât super into violence in the bedroom, but this was getting real. He could feel it, even though he knew that he could not die again. His eyes opened with confusion and hurt, not with anger, not with fear, just - almost looking like a kicked puppy himself.
The information was hard to take in, not with the distraction of being choked and how achingly hard he was getting under his touch. Oh, aching indeed, it was causing a sweat droplet on Pierreâs brow and all. The Belleroses though - at the mention of him, he flickered his eyes over to his sister, who had her back turned to him, talking to the ghosts of the Merry Men. Wulf, he recognized, from Hog Fest.
And then, his eyes would look around the room again and not find the second person he was looking for, because Frank was out of the room with their flesh and blood intruder and Delta. Then back into Piperâs eyes. â- one question,â He said, his voice hoarse, choking. âCan you only bring back me or-?â
He motioned his head towards Seven. Because that was his boy right there. They went through Hell together - and a lot of Hellâs influences. Pierre was not the same boy that he had been when he went under. But he still stuck to that loyalty to Seven, despite what else might be going on in his mind. He had to at least ask. If there was any chanceâŚ
--
Maddy also did a quick look around for Frank and Delta, and found them gone too. But those that were in the castle, she noticed, were friends. Save for maybe Pierre, but regardless, they were people who were not here to hurt them. Still, they shouldnât give anyone the chance.
She nodded to Bastien as he wanted to go and get Frankie. That made her feel a lot better too. âGo, Iâll be right here, Iâll keep an eye out,â She promised Bastien, lightly brushing her hand against his lower waist, and then turned her attention to her friends, her face brightening up once more.
âJust Agnes missed me?â She asked Wulf with both eyebrows raised, but she would pet the little ghost pig that had served as flower girl at her wedding, her eyes full of delight. âI missed you too, girl.â
-
Lance caught Figaroâs attention though. âLANCY PANTSY!!!â They yelled loudly and ran over to them. After all, they had been quite friendly when they went to the high school together, as all of their friends seemed to have the main character stuff going on. They snapped their fingers loudly, almost imitating Kuzco, expecting people to come out of nowhere and get shit done. âSomeone get this man a Geee-Tar!â
--
Elsa wouldnât have minded if this was the rest of the night. Not a touchy-feely sort usually, but this was River. This was the son that she had for such a brief time. That she had missed so many years with and tried to get those back, tried to be there for him, tried to be the mother he didnât need once he was an adult.
She also watched as they all went off together, and she didnât mind at all if Koda went off with them. He deserved to have some fun out there. She was perfectly content to stay here, with the stragglers and the ghosts. But she did look towards Valerie and Thomas too, and found herself pleased that they werenât being bothered by what was going on. Those two, always in their own little world. Dancing like they were in a music box.
âAbsolutely,â She said with a nod, not acknowledging the way that he had corrected himself. Mother - it suited her much more than Ma, anyway.
So she would take his hand and they would have a dance and even Elsa would have a genuine smile on her face, seeing past all the rot, the dessication, to the boy that was underneath. Sheâd always see the boy. Even when he was a man.
And when he would break off to ask Valerie to dance, of course Thomas would allow this to happen with a bow of his head and a grin on his face, and would stand back and watch, even try to take some pictures with his phone so that this would seem less dreamlike.
--
Frank bit back a laugh. The nerve of this guy. The fuckinâ BALLS, coming in and just demanding that Delta release his father, as if Chernabog was just a house-guest rather than her prisoner around her pretty neck. Despite wanting to laugh, his face remained in that neutral, almost ghastly expression of his.
He listened, staying silent, staying cool for now, as Delta laughed for the both of them. But he couldnât help the corner of his mouth going up ever so slightly.
âOh, heâs being quite serious,â Frank said, holding Delta steady, allowing the leather fabric of his shirt to wear her tears, his mind connected to Silasâs. âHe has no idea heâs sniffing around the wrong lamppost.â
He let Delta take the lead on the conversation, as per usual. She was a better talker than he was anyway. He kept himself holding onto Silas, one hand clenched on his, standing just behind. Trapping Silas between himself and Delta as he pled his case.
But when he brought up Uncle issues, he raised up his hand and gave Silas a smack on the back of his head - hard.
âIâm not judging you. Iâm judging him,â Frank thought back towards Delta. And he was judging this guy hard. Was this foolishness, or was it bravery? Or was it just a desperate act of cowardice, because he couldnât handle life without his daddy doing things for him. He got cut off from Oogie when he got stuck inside of Feral, so he was trying to find the next big thing, the next big Sugar Mama.
âWeâve got a special place for a thing for you,â Frank said, pulling Silas in closer to him, so that the clownâs back was up against his chest. Might even have seemed romantic, in a âFrolloâ type of way. âWhere Iâm going to cut you up, but Iâm going to keep you alive. Yes, Iâm going to cut you up, and Iâll see what makes you tick, makes you sick. Weâll find out exactly who you are.â
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OMG luce is back at it BOOOOOM. DO I KNOW WHO TO REQUEST FEO: no. Do I know it'll be angsty af? YES! Should I keep writing my own ff instead of writing Requests? Kinda. Also I just stepped on my MacBook and i think its dead- NYways enough from my life :)
Of course it's gonna be for morphy again, cus I love that man.
So. There ist this one guy, who cheated death in Greek mythology (wikilink) . So my Idea is that there is someone on earth who does the same, best woul be to set it in the mid 18th hundred bc of the clothes, I love the clothes.
Death had been chasing that boy for like a while, but genuinely cant discover him and when she does reader always runs away. So she asks dream for a bit help, and the the good lil brother he is, he agrees to help. He and Lucien read through nearly all the books in the library, dont find that boy in the dream books though, but they find his diary.
Morpheus reads through it and starts sympathizing with the reader, so he visits them. They argue and he starts liking them more. The rest be urs :D I just cant put things in words rn. <\3
I really loved how u made my other Request in a wonderful fanfic so... I thought why not Request again.!
Greets Luce ~
One More Lifetime Won't Kill Anyone
Summary:
âYou wouldnât like what comes after,â she warns. The prospect of eternity is hard enough as an immortal being, but as a human, it could drive one mad - grief is but just one of many things youâd have to contend with. You consider it but then ask, âI wonât like what comes after,â you scoff, âif youâre so adamant about getting me to come with you, make me,â you challenge. She sighs, âYou wonât. Youâre almost too human, too kind,â you tell her, âand for that, I am thankful.â
Pairings:
Morpheus x Male!Reader
Tags:
Angst | Fluff | Mild Smut | Inspired By The Myth Of Sisyphus | Evading Death | Discussion of Death & Mortality | This Author Regrets Nothing
Words: 3182
Author's Note:
You will not believe the amount of math I had to do for this.
Death first crosses your path at eight. The plague traveled through the village - the doors were sealed days prior, windows shut, and with no contact with the outside world, your grandmotherâs body was still fresh. Still on her bed beside her, your cousin was slumped; sheâd stopped hacking out blood and could barely speak; the bile gathered at the corner of her lips; every so often, she would reach out her hand, and youâd curl even further in the corner. The house stank of sick, and your stomach provided a reminder you were still alive.Â
When people passed, theyâd mutter prayers; the plague doctor came once a day; when you responded to his calls, he would tut and leave you, ignoring your protests. You used to pound at the door, but with your energy lacking, you only begged. When Death came, she was kind. Your cousin took her hand and stood anew - dead, but anew - your grandmother followed suit, and then she turned to you. You shook your head, though; you couldnât die; you were healthy; the ailment had yet to curse your veins.
âIâm sorry,â she comforted you. She directed the three of you from the house - you the only one corporeal - Death led from the village, the path evened out, bumps vanishing, and people fading away. The light, as it would come to be called centuries later, shone brightly. The other two were ecstatic that or had already resigned themselves to their fate; you, on the other hand, were terrified. Eight years old. Eight years old, and you turned away from Death and ran. Away from the light. Away from the village. You ignored her calls, covered your ears when your grandmother cried out for you and pleaded you return to paradise.
Like every child, you thought the forest was a perfect hiding place. The bramble pierced your feet, branches grabbing at your clothes; you stumbled through a shrub, and the ground vanished beneath you. Pulled down by gravity, you fumbled down the cliff, body contorting as it spun; the aching pain of your neck breaking was the last you felt before you died. That should have been the end.
Your village is barely what it was when you return, twenty years passed, and the old path was all that was left. The plague had done its work, and after, the lord of the land - the smell of burning flesh festered, but you ignored it through your work. The makeshift tombstones had taken the better half of a week to make; with no knowledge of Latin, English, or any of the upper languages, youâd elected to carve - as best as you could - your familyâs faces. Youâd erected them far from the main path, secluded beneath an old peach tree, âSorry about running off back then,â you muttered.
You hadnât stuck much near home; scared Death would be waiting; the first few days after not dying had been painful, your neck resetting itself slowly, all the while, you could barely move. Stuck staring up at the canopy, praying Death wouldnât stumble across you. Youâd survived on stealing from the carriages and people that passed through the woods - a hefty reward had been set up after youâd stolen from some noble, but it was well past disregarded. âIs it nice up there?â you asked. âItâs just, I remember how you would speak of the afterlife, and I ââ sometimes, in the lowest moments, you regretted running, wishing you could follow along.Â
Ale did well to stifle the thoughts, leaving you curled in on yourself as you cried; they were few and far between. You shook your head, â ânever mind.âÂ
âIt depends,â another voiced. You turned, and there she stood, Death, âYou look tired,â she observed.
âUsually, people say hello,â you quipped.
âI suppose youâre right. Hello.â She comes to stand beside you, âTheyâre happy, by the way, a little angry about you running off.â
âUnderstandable.â You donât exchange much more small talk before she brings up the glaringly obvious matter of her visit. You step away when she holds out her hand, âPlease, youâre long overdue,â she says, reaching out again. But you back away, shaking your head; she calls out your name, not a warning, more cautiously, as you look ten seconds away from bolting.
âYes, well, Iâll have you know Iâm doing quite well,â you tell her.
âAre you?â she asks. And you huff in response, brushing off her hand and bidding the graves your goodbye; you walk fast. Your feet carry you as far as they can; you hear a sigh, then the sound of footsteps; sheâs gone when you look back and right in front of you. You halt, âDonât fight me on this,â she pleads.
You back away, âIâm not going anywhere with you; you canât make me.â
âI donât want to ââ
âThen donât.â
âYou wouldnât like what comes after,â she warns. The prospect of eternity is hard enough as an immortal being, but as a human, it could drive one mad - grief is but just one of many things youâd have to contend with.Â
You consider it but then ask, âI wonât like what comes after,â you scoff, âif youâre so adamant about getting me to come with you, make me,â you challenge. She sighs, âYou wonât. Youâre almost too human, too kind,â you tell her, âand for that, I am thankful.â
She lets you go, perhaps agreeing with your statement, but you donât stop to ask; you run, barely stopping in the woods. You gather what you have hidden away among the trees, weave a new persona, a new life, and stow away on the first ship you can. A modest thing, the inside is damp and cold; youâre sure the captain knows of your presence - judging by the wrapped bread thrown over the crates you hide behind. Death is there sometimes, sat atop the crates; she often glances down at you, offering her hand once in a while, but you turn away, huffing stubbornly.
âMorpheus, Iâm your favorite sibling, right?â
The endless in question glances over at Death; sheâs laid back, face pinched in irritation, and eyes shut, âUsually, I would say yes, but I feel thereâs some sort of baggage to it this time.â
She rubs her temples, âThereâs a human ââ
â âHob?â Morpheus interjects.
âNo, not him, another one. He doesnât, he ran away from me, and no matter what I do, nothing I say will convince him to pass.â
âWhat does this have to do with me?â he asks. She sits up, and he already knows heâs not going to like this.
He most definitely, does not like this.Â
Not the favor, more so the lack of results. The library has nothing on you; he finds your family, friends, and even your village but nothing on you. Lucienne is far luckier; she resurfaces from a mountain of books, a worn-up journal in hand, and on the cover is your name; the first few pages are your childhood - dreary, at best, the plague doesnât make for such happy moments - after itâs muddled, the writing is a mess. A few pages are caked with dirt and leaves. One even was just soaked in blood.Â
âOh dear,â Lucienne mutters, âIt appears the poor boy hasnât had a very happy life so far âis that seawater?â The next set of pages are just wet, though not too much, as they manage to read some of the writing.
Death came for me again; we had a bit of fun this time, though. The captain got sick of me stowing away in his ship and put me to workâŚâŚâŚâŚnever peeled so many potatoes in my lifeâŚâŚâŚâŚthree daysâŚâŚâŚâŚdonât know what Iâll doâŚâŚâŚâŚ
I accidentally marriedâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚcountâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚshitâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Morpheus chuckled at the accidental marriage bit; heâd love to hear that story firsthand. âHe sounds lovely,â he remarks.
âNo matter what I say, youâre going to visit him, arenât you?â Lucienne notes, and he voices agreement, already leaving the library.
Walking through dreams - not that he doesnât already do that - your dreams are strange; most people in this century dream of riches, wealth, usurping those above their stations, but you, you dream of a little house with two other people and nothing eventful.Â
âHand me that, dear.â One of the other people, an older woman, sheâs making stew, sheâs always making stew, and she never eats it. Portioning what little there is to an adolescent - face often blurred and uncertain - and another child. âOh, no, no, Iâm alright. I had some of the bread; Iâll be fine. Eat up, dear; we donât want you catching the plague so thinly looking.â
âItâs rude to trespass into other peopleâs minds.â The scene trickles away and is replaced by a void.
âHow do you know I am trespassing?â Morpheus asks, âI could be a figment of your imagination.â
You chuckle, form appearing before him, âI doubt my mind could conjure a man of such beauty.â He smiles a little, âA man whose name eludes me.â
âHow can it elude if it was never given,â he counters, âYou look rather different from what Death described; shouldnât you be sickly?â
You huff, âItâs been twenty-nine years of running from her, things are bound to change, and when you live so long, well, things get easier.â
âThen why dream of a shabby little hut?âÂ
âWeâve barely been acquainted, good sir,â you respond.
âIs that an invitation?â
âIf you like.â
He very much did - not that heâd admit it to himself - and left the Dreaming, finding himself in the countryside; youâve done quite well for yourself, looking healthier than you had when Death had last seen you. Your new home - correction manor house - is well spaced, with rolling fields all around, well kept, and very few staff; itâs quite isolated - a home fit for someone undying.
âYou donât look that different awake.â You say from behind him, the reigns of a horse in hand, âIn fact, Iâd say you look quite average.â
âInsulting me wonât do much to change the subject of my visit.â
âI suppose not,â you hand the reigns over to a waiting stableboy, âshall we?â
âYou walk like a noble.â He comments, itâs not that hard to do, really, nose stuck up, face passive, and arms behind your back, youâve got it down quite well. âYou also seemed to have adjusted quickly to âwhatâs your title?â
âCount,â you reply, relaxing back on the armchair, âWhat of you? Associate of Death, what title do you hold?â
He chuckles, âIâm no associate, rather a brother fulfilling a favor, and as for a title, Lord of Dreams seems to be universal, but I prefer Morpheus.â
He asks for your name in return, and you give it; youâve never seen the need to change it with the turning centuries, âNow then, Morpheus, why has Death sent you to my doorstep?â
âShe didnât,â he admits, âher favor required less involvement on my part.â
âAnd what sort of involvement would that be?â you inquire.
âIâm not quite sure yet,â he responds; youâve both seemed to have shifted in your seats, leaning closer to the other, âWhy? Are you proposing something?â
âMorpheus, weâve only met. What do you take me for?â You feign innocence, placing a hand on his chest, and push back the lapel of his coat. Youâre not sure who leans closer, but you find yourself holding him close, his hands holding your face as you fall to your bed. Clothes were discarded somewhere between the move from where youâd sat, and you didnât bother to think of them now. Morpheus lowers himself, head nestled between your legs; you grasp him by his hair as he swallows your cock - your moans echoing in the room - he kisses along your thighs when he comes off it, dark eyes glazing back up at you.
Your back arches when he draws an orgasm from you, your legs loosened by the feeling, and you spend many hours finding endless ways to bring each other pleasure. You lie next to Morpheus, âIâve quite enjoyed your involvement, Morpheus.â
He grins, âI doubt Death will; Iâm certain the favor was to garner insight into you.â
âOh, I think youâve done that well enough,â you tease, and he sighs, a slight pout to his expression; you roll him onto his back, âlet me give you some more insight.â
âWould you like something to cover that up, my lord?â Lucienne jests.
Morpheus is going to keep walking with dignity; he is going to ignore the blatant hickeys along his skin, the flushed look on his face, and his tussled hair. He is also going to ignore Lucienneâs smug little smirk and Deathâs glare as he strides past them.
The age of enlightenment, theyâre calling it. Rubbish. Traipsing around the world like they own the place, the age of entitlement is more like it. You chuckle at your own joke; your fellow counts and noblemen had been appalled by your commentary, angry that a member of their own caste would say something so indecent. The Renaissance had been no better, but at least youâd had Leonardo, a genius he was, immortalized in so many ways - youâd barely left your manor house after returning from his passing, and sheâd been there. Death, gaze steady as you held his hand, âYou could follow, come with,â she offered once more.
âI doubt he would; heâs a stubborn old man,â Leonardo had said before Death guided him away.
Youâd left his assistant, SalaĂŹ, to his matters, then retired to your home - many of the friends youâd come to know had either passed or gone senile; their children and grandchildren had grown weary of you, âYouâve never aged a day,â theyâd say, and youâd shrug, dismissing the conversation.
âIs this seat taken?â
You glance up from your mug of ale; the foam is long gone, and the taste is stale, âOf course, who else would I be reserving it for?â you quip. Itâs still strange to see Morpheus among humans, they donât seem to register him as anything other than a man, but after the years youâd spent avoiding Death - and distracting him - youâd come to know how to pick out otherworldly beings from a crowd. The endless dons 18th Century apparel befit a nobleman, his hair held back and a grim expression on his face - perhaps concern. Youâd be remiss to dismiss him; heâd become quite the shadow over the years, especially today - the anniversary of your familyâs death - morning hours at the grave, evening hours at the bar.Â
He placed a hand on your glass before you could take another swig, âItâs still light out; at least let me get through a few glasses before you cut me off.â
âI did, last year, and we woke up in another country,â he reminds you.
You laugh, âOh, donât pout, Morpheus,â you pout back, over exaggerating all the while, but he doesnât budge, and you groan. âYouâre no fun; you know that? Canât you let me live out my dreams?â
âGetting blackout drunk is your dream?â
You purse your lips and nod, âToday? Yes.â
âThis isnât healthy,â he chastises you, and you scoff.
âSays who? Iâve lived a long life; I deserve to kick back and drown myself in alcohol,â you tell him, running a hand around the rim of your glass, you havenât had enough to get you drunk, but youâre on the edge of tipsy. You brush his hand away and knock back the rest of your drink, a satisfied smile on your face. âCheer up, Morpheus; Iâve got enough dread to endure today.â
âThere are other, healthier ways to cope with grief.â
You almost laugh, snickering at his statement, âOh, please, what do you know of grief?â You ask him, âWhat could a creature of eternity know of suffering?â you seethed.
âI know well of suffering,â he defended, âIâve lived far longer than you could ever imagine.â
You scoffed, âSuffering? You hold more power in your hand than anyone could fathom, and you think you could grasp the finite pain that boils through me?â You turned to him with a breathy laugh and the onset of tears, âYou walk among gods; I hide in their shadows. Our suffering cannot be compared, perhaps you have suffered, but could you ever comprehend the mortal toil that stains my world?â
âYou think my life free of turmoil,â he sadly mused.
âIs it not? You do not fear Death; she is your sister. You do not experience hunger; it is beneath you. You do not suffer thirst, illness, or fear. Your immortality was yours from birth, mine, a once fortunate accident.â
âYouâve become resentful of me.â Itâs less of an observation; your journal entries at the library have become more haphazard than before, and a few unfinished sentences mention him, but without context or elaboration, what else is he to assume but the worst?
âOh no, not you, more so myselfâŚ.my stupid, cowardly selfâŚ.â you lament, laughing as tears fall from your eyes. Your memories of the past, before this mess, have become hazy, your dreams have no faces, their voices carry in the distance when they speak - never clear, never certain, youâve forgotten what so many people sound like by now, âMy mindâs become forgetful,â you tell him, âI canât remember anything that well anymore, well, except you I suppose, but then again,â you brush your hand against his, âyou are a constant arenât you?â
He smiles a little, âAlways.â He accompanies you back home, and you lie atop him, mind muddled and slumber stricken; he watches over you when Death approaches. She stands by the bed, face painted with disappointment.Â
âYou canât keep doing this, Morpheus; I asked for your help; falling in love with him isnât doing that.â Death lectured.
Morpheus glanced down at you, âHe needs me,â he argued.
âDoes he? Or do you need him?â she counters. âI know youâve come to care for him, but he is spiraling; you saw it. How many more years do you think heâll manage before he goes mad?â
âHe wonât. Iâll be there; Iâll always be there,â Morpheus proclaims.
The 21st Century is rather strange; technology has excelled beyond what youâd ever imagined; despite the choice of travel, youâve elected to return home, close to the site of your long-gone village. A site now in the hands of a museum, alongside your familyâs gravestones, theyâd taken down the peach tree, excavated, and placed everything else behind a glass pane. Youâd put off buying the land for decades, the area had never been popular, so interest was never an issue, but now, glancing at the exhibit, you felt everything and nothing all at once.
Unlucky victims of the plagueâŚ.
You couldnât read it without scoffing; what business did they have digging up the gravestones? You feel seconds away from buckling, and as youâre about ready to do so, a hand slips into yours; you hadnât heard Morpheus approach - mind you, you could barely focus on anything - he lightly tugs, and you turn, hiding away in his embrace.
End Note:
Originally, I was gonna have this end so sad, but then, I decided to be kind. đ Stay Hydrated.
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