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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

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Spooked

Requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! Thanks for sending it in, I had so much fun with it! :)

Pairing: best friend!BTS, maybe some secret crushes going on? 👀

Premise: You + all 7 members of BTS visiting a haunted house. What could go wrong?

So, so much.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: they are touring a haunted house, so there’s gonna be some scary story/spooky things going on. hopefully there’s enough fun things/fluff to counter it?

a/n: this was longer than I expected it to be...but I was having fun with ot7. hopefully nobody minds lol

It wasn't your fault that Hobi had never seen "A Quiet Place". He had mentioned it as you scrolled through the options on his TV while lounging on his couch like an overgrown cat. Everyone else was in the process of scarfing down their dinner, popping popcorn, and laughing over whatever Jimin and Yoongi were bickering about.

Obviously you had to watch it.

Naturally, the conversation had drifted to a bit more spooky topics. You'd come back from grabbing more popcorn surprised to find Jin talking about his friend that wanted to open up a house they'd inherited for ghost tours.

After nudging Jimin out of the way, you took up your usual spot next to Taehyung. They all watch you with amused eyes, knowing full well that Taehyung is the only one that willingly scratches your back on movie nights.

"Really, like is it the kind of haunted house where people dress up and scare you?" Jungkook asked, his interest piqued.

Jin shook his head. "No, not really. It sounds like they just walk you through the house and tell stories and stuff."

You and Jungkook share a look, already thinking the same thing. A glance at Hobi shows him clutching a blanket to his chest, caught between the events of the film and the conversation taking place.

"We should go," you ventured, immediately earning a startled stare from both Jin and Hobi. The others chuckle in response, Namjoon swatting Jungkook's hand half-heartedly as he tries to steal more popcorn from him.

"...noooo," Jin began. "It's not like it's up and running yet, they're just working on getting it ready for the fall-"

Jungkook picks up where you left off. "Perfect! We can be their test group. That way they'll know what they can do for the general public, get an idea of what works and what doesn't."

You jump in again before Jin can protest more. "C'mon! And besides, this may be your only chance just to go for fun! Otherwise you'd have to find a way to go without running into all of those people, and have to contact management about it..."

Jin sighs, looking at Hobi who stares back at him with an expression of defeat. You grin, Taehyung chuckling beside you.

"Fine."

It was all too easy. Standing here now, you can see just why they want to open this up for ghost tours. Of course you won't admit it, but you already have chills running down your spine.

Or maybe that's just because Jung Hoseok is currently breathing down your neck.

"Alright," Jin's friend, Gina stands at the top of the steps, smiling down at you all. "Everybody ready?"

Jungkook and Taehyung, completely riled up, let out whoops and cheers while everyone else grunts in acknowledgement. Hobi clings to the back of your jacket, whimpering like a lost puppy.

This should be fun.

Jungkook doesn't bother to wait for everyone else, heading straight inside after Gina. Taehyung and Jimin are hot on his heels, joking about something back and forth. You follow after them, glancing back at Hobi with an amused grin.

"Oh," he realizes that he's still clinging to you. "Right." Extracting his hand from your jacket, he lets you move forward. He remains close behind you, Jin at his side.

Namjoon and Yoongi bring up the rear, hardly paying attention to anything that's going on as they chat about a business they saw not far from here.

"We'll begin in the front study here," Gina adopts a spooky tone as she stands in the candlelight. Shadows dance along the walls, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Suddenly you wish that Hobi was still holding onto you.

Slowly, so as to not draw the attention (and teasing) of the maknae line, you step back until you're between Namjoon and Yoongi.

The two of them smirk down at you, knowing full well that you're already spooked.

"What are you doing?" Jin whispers back to you, eyes wide while he rubs his arms as though he's cold. "Trying to abandon us to the ghosts?"

You shake your head fervently, hoping that they don't notice the way you're sneaking your hand into the pocket of Yoongi's jacket.

"No, the middle is the safest place," you argue. Yoongi gives a breathy chuckle beside you, his hand finding yours in the warmth of his pocket and giving it a squeeze. Thankfully the house is dark enough that the blush on your cheeks shouldn't be visible.

Absentmindedly you link your other arm through Namjoon's, hardly able to breathe properly when he instinctively moves closer.

What were you even saying?

"A-and now you've got three in front and three in back. You're totally safe."

Hobi and Jin look at each other like they know exactly what you’re up to, but don't push it as they suddenly begin walking again. Gina leads the way toward the dining room, weaving a tale of how the estranged wife of the owner of the house swore she would never leave the property.

"Did she?" Jungkook asks from the front, peeking in closed off rooms along the way. You can't help but marvel at his fearlessness.

Gina's eyes glow with excitement, almost as though she were waiting for someone to ask that. "No. Years later, when the owner sold the house, the new occupants said they found a sealed off room in the basement." You gasp, the sound echoing through the hallway. You miss the look Jimin gives you, too attached to the story.

"What..." you clutch Namjoon's arm, the fabric of his jacket bunching in your hand. "Did they ever open up the room?"

Gina grins. "They did. They hired someone to come and open the sealed door. However, the man they hired only got about halfway before quitting. He was terrified."

Yoongi leans down to whisper in your ear. "Are you trying to cut off my circulation?"

It's only then that you notice you've been squeezing his hand with startling strength. "Whoops." Going to remove your hand from his, he frowns, holding it tighter before you can move.

Well, if this isn't a rollercoaster of emotions.

"Why was he so scared?" Namjoon pipes up beside you, a hint of a smile gracing his features as he reads the expression on your face. Oh, you're so screwed. "Did he find something?"

"It's not so much what he found as what he didn't," Gina replies. "But we'll have to save that for last. For now, the dining room. Come on in, everyone."

Hobi looks back at you, a mixture of horror and overall curiosity on his face. “Oh, she’s good.”

Indeed, Gina definitely seems to have a way with words. You’re just having a hard time understanding them as your heart beats loudly enough to drown out any other noises. Yoongi has taken to tracing circles on the back of your hand, which you think are meant to be soothing.

It only serves to send your heart rate skyrocketing. You stare at the portrait on the far end of the dining room, practically boring holes into the painting of the young woman.

Breathe, don’t do anything stupid.

“...alright?”

You blink, finding yourself to be the sudden center of attention. Jungkook grins widely at you.

“What?”

Jungkook repeats his question. “Are you doing alright?”

“Oh.”

Jimin bursts out laughing. “That’s not an answer, jagiya. Need us to protect you from the ghosts?”

Your wide eyes immediately give you away, and even Gina is offering you a look of pity before deciding to continue on with the tour. Before you embarrass yourself even more, you slip out of Yoongi and Namjoon’s grasp, sneaking up behind Jin and Hobi.

“Hello boys,” you drawl, making Hobi nearly jump out of his skin. You earn a laugh from the group, Jin chuckling at his scared friend. Hobi just glares at you.

“This sucks,” he whispers to you, pulling you up to stand between him and Jin. Immediately they stick to your sides like magnets and you realize that you have indeed done something stupid as Jin’s breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as he goes to whisper something to you.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, it would seem. Your heart certainly agrees.

“I’m not scared, you know,” Jin whispers. You take a deep breath, reminded yourself that these idiots are your best friends, not menu items.

You shoot him an incredulous look. “I doubt that.”

He grins at you, eyes lingering a bit longer than usual. “You’ll see.”

Tearing your eyes away from his and hearing his deep chuckle, you wonder if it’s too late to ask Gina where the nearest exit is.

Don’t do anything stupid.

“Shall we head up to the attic?” Gina asks. “It’s a small space, we can only go three at a time. However, there are some really interesting old photographs up there that we should look at.”

In the blink of an eye everyone is paired off, and you find yourself face to face with Jimin. He grins at you like the Cheshire Cat, making you wonder if he isn’t the most dangerous thing in this house.

Jin and Hobi have the glorious opportunity to go up together while Gina leads the way, and several screams accompany their little trip. In the middle of the candlelight in the hallway, you chuckle with the rest of your friends.

“It’s been interesting so far,” Jungkook muses. “I really want to know what they found in that sealed off basement room.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “Mmm. Or rather, what they didn’t find.”

“What does that even mean?”

Nobody is given a chance to answer Jungkook’s question as Hobi and Jin come scrambling down the ladder, faces pale even as they laugh. Gina chuckles from above, beckoning the next pair to come up.

Jimin looks at you with an arched brow. “Wanna go next?”

“Sure.” You follow him up the ladder, laughing as Jin recounts how he swore the woman in the photograph blinked.

The attic is filled with moonlight, and under other circumstances it might be pretty. However, amongst the old heirlooms sits an ominous scrapbook, filled with black and white photos of less-than-happy people.

Jimin reaches down, grabbing your hand and helping you to your feet as you look around. When he lets go you aren’t sure whether or not to be disappointed.

You’ve hardly made up your mind when he leads you to where Gina stands beside the scrapbook and slips behind you. A moment later his arms encircle your waist, chin propped up on your shoulder.

So there’s that.

Gina points to the first photo, a grim-looking man standing behind a chair where a young woman sits smiling. “This is the estranged wife, before she was estranged, of course. And this is the owner of the house. From what we’ve been able to dig up about his past - no pun intended - he was always deathly serious.”

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations going straight into your spine. Unsure of what to do with your arms, you gently place them atop his arms around your middle.

You swear he smiles for a moment before turning pensive again. “Why did they separate?” You manage to ask, applauding yourself for getting a complete sentence out while Park Jimin hugs you from behind.

“Rumor has it she cheated on him with his best friend,” Gina whispers, pointing to another photo where the solemn owner stands beside a smiling man. “He was driven mad with jealousy. Terrible, isn’t it?”

Gina gives you a long look, and suddenly you straighten your spine. “I-uh, yeah. Horrible.”

She shows us another photo, explaining something about it while Jimin mumbles out a couple of questions. You hardly process any of it, staring at Gina and wondering if she thinks that you are somehow cheating.

But on who? Jin, maybe? Since that’s her friend?

“Alright, send up the next pair,” Gina croons. Jimin detaches himself from you, suddenly leaving you cold. You turn to follow him, but stop as Gina places a hand on your arm.

“Yes?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone even. Gina motions for Jimin to keep going, pulling you back to the scrapbook. She tilts her head to one side.

“Forgive me for maybe overstepping a boundary but...” she motions toward the ladder, where everyone waits below. “Don’t tell me you’re flirting with all of them.”

Your eyes widen, and a breathy laugh comes out. “Me? What? N-no. They’re my best friends, why would I-”

Gina laughs, the sound too loud for the small attic. “Well, they’re flirting with you.” She playfully elbows me. “Speaking from girl to girl...enjoy it. For the rest of us.”

Nearly choking, you frown but nod all the same. “...ok?” When she makes no move to say anything else, you head down the ladder. The boys look up at me with confused looks, Jimin waiting at the bottom to make sure you get down safely.

“What was that about?” Jin asks, looking a little nervous. “She didn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable, did she?”

You blink at him, wondering for a moment if the boys have always been like this around you. Surely not. It’s just the haunted house bringing out this protective side, right?

Right?

“No, she just wanted to show me something else. She’s actually really nice.” You think.

The other groups go up, and nothing else happens to pique your interest. Gina comes down last of all, giving you a wink before walking down the hallway.

“I think we’re ready to go down to the basement, everyone!”

Somehow you end up at the front, surrounded on all sides by the maknae line. You crane your neck, looking back to see the older boys all lost in a heated discussion. Hobi catches your eye after a moment, elbowing Namjoon who looks up at you with fake innocence.

You frown, Gina’s words coming back to you. “They’re flirting with you.”

You must have lost your mind. Was the haunted house really that traumatizing as to make you start coming up with such ridiculous things? How silly of you.

The feeling of a hand resting on the small of your back has you yelping, jumping to face forward again. Taehyung gives you a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, gently pushing you forward to stand in front of him. “Are you really that spooked?”

“I...no.” You fail to come up with a complete sentence, but shrug it off. Taehyung smiles brightly at you, gesturing for you to head down the stairs.

“You seem distracted tonight, are you alright?”

The way your heart had begun palpitating calms down as you notice the obvious concern on Taehyung’s face. You give him a small smile, allowing yourself to relish the feeling of his fingers splayed against your back as you move down the stairs.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just distracted by the story.”

Taehyung looks at you for a moment longer, not quite believing you but shrugging it off. He brings both hands to your shoulders as you enter the basement, an obvious chill in the air.

You fight off a shiver, Taehyung noticing and beginning to rub at your arms in an attempt to warm you up. Gina immediately notices the action, hiding a smile as she pretends to cough.

“Well,” she says once her ‘coughing fit’ subsides. “We’ve made it to the final leg of the tour. How’s it been so far?”

This time everyone cheers with renewed vigor, although a part of you has a hunch that it’s because Hobi knows he’s nearing the end of this scary experience. The thought makes you grin.

“Earlier, you guys asked me what was found in the sealed off room. It’s easier to show you, rather than explain.” Gina walks backward, motioning for everyone to follow her. It’s darker down here, only a few candles light the way. Despite being surrounded by people you trust, you can’t fight the fear that sneaks inside of you.

Rounding a corner, you see a small hallway with a half-open door. Jin curses behind you, clearly feeling just as freaked out as you.

“Remember how the estranged wife said she’d never leave this place?” Gina nods toward the door and dark entryway. “In that room there’s evidence that she may have had an...extended stay here. It’s very small, and the door only opens to a certain point. Almost as though whoever designed it didn’t want to have an easy escape point.”

Chills run down your spine, and even Taehyung’s ministrations pause for a moment as he takes in this new information.

Jungkook speaks up, ever the curious one. “Wait...her body isn’t still here, right?”

Gina shakes her head. “No, although we think that she may have been buried somewhere on the property. We have yet to find her, though.”

“That...” you shake your head, shuffling from foot to foot. “That sounds so ominous. Like she still walks the property or something.”

The smile Gina sends you is enough to make your blood run cold. “We haven’t ruled anything out.” She gestures toward the door. “Due to fire hazards, we can only have two people at a time in the hallway and in the room. Do I have any volunteers?”

Jungkook’s hand immediately shoots up in the air, and he looks at his hyungs pleadingly. You remain still as a statue, refusing to look up for fear of being called on.

You swear you can almost hear Taehyung sigh before he speaks. “Well, obviously you have to go.” He nudges you forward, and you whirl on him in absolute horror.

“What?!” You shout. “How could you betray me like this?! I- no way!”

The boys can’t help but laugh at you, Namjoon clapping Taehyung on the shoulder. Taehyung gives you an apologetic look, shrugging.

“C’mon, I’ll keep you safe,” Jungkook promises, his big pleading eyes on yours.

You hate how you can never say no to him.

Gina pats your shoulder as you walk past, laughing lightly. “Have fun,” she croons. “Ok everyone, let’s go into the open area just around the corner-”

“You’re leaving us?!” You shout again, stopping in your tracks. “Noooo, no no. Not happening.”

“Jungkook will take care of you,” Yoongi says over his shoulder. “Or do you not trust him?”

Jungkook pauses, looking at you with those big brown eyes. “You don’t trust me?”

Yoongi chuckles darkly before leaving the hallway, and you know he’s aware of what he did. You’ll have to make him pay for it later.

Possibly in the form of food.

“No, I do Kook,” you sigh. He extends his hand out to you, waiting patiently.

You take it a little too quickly.

Gina was right, the door only opens to a certain point, leaving you no choice but to shimmy through. Jungkook inspects the entire area, pointing out what looks to be scratches on the doorframe. You shiver.

“It’s not real,” he reassures you, keeping his hand in yours as he shimmies into the room. You hesitate for a moment, daring to glance at where your hands are connected before following after him.

It’s nearly pitch black in the room, hardly allowing for you to see anything. “Can you even see anything?”

Jungkook laughs, squeezing your hand. “Nope. I think we’ll have to wait for our eyes to adjust. You good?”

You squeeze back. “Yeah, I think-”

The door is shut.

Suddenly delved into complete darkness, your breath hitches in your throat. “Jungkook,” you whimper. “Jungkook, I’m scared-”

“Shhh,” Jungkook hushes you, pulling you closer until you bump into his chest. “You’re fine. They’re just pulling a prank on us.”

Without thinking anything other than, I’m too young to die, you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, burrowing your head against his chest as he chuckles.

“I can’t die, Jungkook,” you mumble into his chest. “I’m too young. I have so much to do. I have a test this week to take, and I’ve studied so hard for it, I have to take it. That’d be so stupid to die before taking that dumb test. And I have to yell at Yoongi or something, I don’t know-”

Jungkook’s giddy laughter pulls you out of your daze, and if you weren’t so scared you would be glaring at him. He laces his fingers behind your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers into the dark, making every last thought eddy out of your brain. “Have I ever told you that before?”

Finding just enough willpower to move, you shake your head. Jungkook harrumphs above you, the sound almost pulling a giggle from you. Then you remember the situation you’re currently in.

Jungkook sighs. “Well, you are. That, and a lot of other things. Would you like me to tell you what else I think you are?”

Hands bunching in the fabric of his clothes, you find your voice. “...yes.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Scary smart. It’s horrifying.” A chuckle bubbles up from your chest. “And inclusive. That’s so underrated these days, you know? But you’re always making sure everyone is involved and enjoying themselves.”

You can tell that he’s holding his breath from the way his chest has stopped moving, and you’re about to ask him if he’s alright when he hesitantly runs his fingers through your hair.

If that wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, he lets out a shaky breath before continuing on. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you those things before.”

You manage a laugh. “I’m sorry that it took us going on a haunted house tour for you to say it.”

Jungkook smiles down at you, your eyes finally adjusted to the dim room. He stares at you for a long moment, and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.

You wonder if you’d let him.

He must see the question in your eyes, but he gives you a knowing look before heading toward the door, making sure your hand is in his.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says, testing the door and giggling at your sigh of relief when the door is unlocked.

“Worry about what?” You feign ignorance. Jungkook sees right through your, tugging you along as you head out the door.

He shrugs, suddenly unable to look you in the eyes as pink no doubt paints his cheeks. “You know...overstepping any boundaries.” He looks down at his feet. “Making a move.”

“Why?” The question comes out before you can stop it, and you inwardly curse yourself. Jungkook smiles softly at your inquiry.

The sound of everyone chatting makes you almost want to cry with relief. They must be just around the corner, waiting for you to return.

Jungkook leans over, whispering to you. “Because we have a pact.”

You turn to question him further, eyes wide. He anticipates this, taking long strides until you find yourselves back in the open area with everyone else.

“We’re back!” Jungkook announces, shooting you a smirk. You can’t help but stare at him, mouth slightly agape.

A pact?

Gina smiles broadly. “How was the room? Did you find anything interesting?”

You shake your head, trying and failing to stop yourself from overanalyzing every glance the boys give you. “...no. I was too freaked out to even look around after the door closed on us.”

“Yeah, who did that? We didn’t even hear you guys,” Jungkook asks.

Everyone looks at the two of you before looking at Gina, clearly just as confused.

Gina, on the other hand, looks absolutely terrified.

“Ummm...” she begins, rubbing her arms in an effort to warm herself up. “Remember how I said that we haven’t ever found the body of the estranged wife?”

You nod your head but stop, the words sinking in. The hairs on the back of your neck rise up, and you find yourself shuffling over to stand next to Jin, clinging to his arm.

“Yeah...” Namjoon says, eyes darting around the room.

Gina sighs. “Alright, everyone, single file line. Head out as quickly and quietly as possible.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

masterlist

this has been turned into a series!

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

oooh so spooky ;)

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itsmadamehydra · 4 years

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My Savior || Wayne McCullough

A/N: Just some teenage girl trying to write the story inside her head, hope u like it.

Pairing: Wayne McCullough x oc

Warnings: rape, intention of rape, harassment, blood mention, bullying, language (a little strong)

.................

I've always like to watch him by far, he just seems different from the rest (and oh boy, he is).

The first time I saw him I was in 7th grade. I was just one more girl of the many others that her tities just had started to show and my period started to visit me. I remember that day clearly, I was sitting at the hallway with my bestfriend at the time, eating infront of our lockers when I saw him.

"Am telling ya girl, the answer of number 5 was c." I said trying to reason with her about the science test answers "I told you that if u needed help to study, I could help ya." I smile at her and move my arm upward to touch her shoulder

"Yeah, yeah, I know...are you sure it was not D?" she said frowning her eyebrows once more. We stayed in silence for a sec before bursting into laughter and tears

Little by little our laughs started to fade, allowing ears to hear the background and aswell some loud voices, it sounded like an argument but by the hears of it a fight was going to start soon. "What you think is happening over there?" Cassie murmured, I stared at the end of the hallway where apparently was were the voices were coming from.

"I don't know..." my lips formed a thin line while I was thinking about what could have been happening in there, "You wanna, you know, go and see?" I looked back at my friend

"Freak yeah" she laughed grabbing my hand and running down the hallway to see the soon to be fight.

Once we got there, there was a mass of students surrounding what appeared to be the ones who where arguing. "Ugh, I can't see, I hate been so small." I said, "Hey, that smallness is beautiful and you know you can use that in your own benefit" Cassia said and winked at me.

"I mean, yeah but I can't-" my word stopped at the moment I heard a want sounded and I believe to be a punch in the face. "You saw that!?" Cassie said, "That was freaking awesome, please tell me you saw it!" "Um, nah Cassie, I cant see a crap" i said while trying to find a whole where to see through.

It was only a matter of seconds until more punches were heard. I started pushing people more frantically, I wanted to see what was happening. When I get pass a few amount of studens I almost slipped, looked sown to see what was it and it was stains of blood, only a few but still.

"Oh gosh, disgusting." When I look up only a few students are still in the cafeteria and a guy wearing a grey hoddie was just there, staring at the bloodie face of another guy. I stared back at the hoddie guy and noticed a little hammer in his hand, and the words just came out of my mouth without even noticing, "Why the hammer? Want to be a constructed or something?" He just stared at me and pass by me without saying a word and keeping a neutral face.

"Who the hell was that crazy ass weirdo?" I hear Cassie's voice behind me. "I don't know" I responded, "But I will know...one day."

"Ok,ok, am not going to get in between your little search thingi but am sure he is not good news." Cassie said, "You saw what he did, and he has a FREAKING hammer, y/n! Covered in blood y/n!" She grabbed my shoulders from behind, "I think we all understood the message, stay the fuck away from him, honey."

And I just smiled.

Months later I learned his name. Wayne, Wayne McCullough. Fits the ring if you ask me. Everyone was speaking about how violent, crazy and wierdo he was, about how he was going to show up at your house to beat the hell put of you.

I just observed him by far, well, I like to think that I noticed him. I noticed how he usually beats up those who are some assholes jerks that have only one brain cell as much. Noticed that he is not much of a talker and a shy boy. Noticed how he makes his lips thin when he gets lost in thoughts. How he closes his fist when he is about to do something. His strangely high pain tolerance. His pale skin and dark hair appeared to me to be very llamative and aswell his strength. He was and is skinny but somehow has a great strength, maybe do to the unincredible amounts of fights he gets in. Experience makes the master is what the say...right?

Years went by, we entered to highschool and the nervousness along with the fast beating, sweating and butterflies were still there every time i either tought about him or saw him walking around.

Cassie stayed with me for a while until she decided to join the group of nasty ass bitches with no brain cells who believed no one was better than them. While I...well, I stayed small for a big part I guess, always with good grades, teachers love me and try to be nice with every one I guess.

Everything was going great until Cassie along with some guys recorded me somehow while being drunk and them trying to overpass the boundaries, and let me tell ya.. that was just the start.

The had videos of me at the school bathroom, pictures of my underwear under my skirts and dresses, them trying to touch me. I had to learn to defend myself, stopped using skirts, dresses, shorts even do I loved wearing the. Replace my shoes with tennis and always had hair ties.

"Y/n, wake up! You're going to be late for school, don't think ama wait for you!" I mom yelled.

"Yes, mom! Dont worry, am up!" I run down the stairs with my backpack, went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went straight to the car.

"Oh for God sake, y/n" she said went she looked at me and noticed my new hair style.

"What? You don't like it? I just cut it a little." I satered at her innocently

"Your father is not gonna like it and you know it." She said and the stress lines appeared in her forehead, "You know this is his weekend and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence because I started taking, "Am not going to that dickheads house, mother." I said strainly, "Don't want to see his and face of that bitch he cheated you with..." i lowly said but loud enough to hear.

"I know, honey but you have to and besides you get to see your brother!" She patted my thigh, "Haven't seen him in a while right?" She said with a sad tone

"You should be the one seeing him...not me." I stared outside the window, there were just some trees and houses and garbage.

Mom and dad divorced a while back, he cheated on her. The house was a mess that day, screams and broken glass everywhere. Sammy was lucky, he was at grandma's but I was home...listening to every single word. That was also the first time a sneaked out and the first time I sort-of spoke to Wayne.

"What are you doing here?" I heard someone said behind me, I looked and it was fucking Wayne

"Just trying to have some quietness i guess..." I stared at my fingers and started playing with them because of my nervousness, "...What are you doing here?" I asked softly

And he stayed silent...the whole time after that. Either way, his company was nice and the side profile, ufff, amazing.

"Ok, we are here." I stared at the building for a sec before giving my mother a kiss in her cheek and entered to the building.

"Hey y/n! Nice ass!" That was the jerk of all jerks, Jonathan.

I turned around and stared at him, "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "Want to see me shop of your dick?" Changed my tone while saying that into a lower and more serious tone. He just stared at me with sealed lips and left.

I continued walking to my locker and I come to see tgat my freaking lock is broken, I search in all the spaces but nothing is missing.

"Come on! They had just changed me of locker!" I silently yelled. Started grabbing my books for the next few classes when I felt a hand in my shoulder, by instinct I grabbed the wrist, pushed the person against the locker and added pressure in the throat with my other arm.

"Hey y/n" Orlando smiled, "New move?" I chuckled and removed my arm, now, standing face to face I respond

"You know you shouldn't do that Orlando bunny." I laugh st the nickname I gave him a few time ago. Orlando was one of the few FEW people who talked to me, well, he talked to everyone but still.

"I know... I just forgot I guess man." He looked down, "Y/n...have your tities grown bigger?" His face looked confused.

I slapped his head and punched his shoulder, "Could you please stop looking and thinking 'bout tities when am around you?"

"I mean, yeah sure...and sorry about your lock." He points the locker, "Wayne thought it was still his but since-" I cut him off before he could continue

"Wayne?" I asked confused

"Yeah, Is tha-" i cut him off again

"Why did he tho?" I murmured staring at my lock in hand.

"It used to be his locker but oh well...he missed school for 3 weeks and yeah." He grabs his backpacks laces after explaining.

"Oh...ok, is he still here tho?" I looked at Orlando

"I guess..." he was about to say pther thing when the bell ring and we started to go toour classes, "See you later gorgeous!" He yells from the corner of the hallway.

I stayed there...just staring at my lock for a while, then order my things fast and left to class. What I didn't know was that someone was watching at me.

Three days later, i was walking back home and i heard s car going at full speed and nasty comments were started to be listend. I kept walking trying tk pretend they didn't exist when the car is suddenly over the sideway and infront of me.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME ASSHOLES!!" I yelled.

"But...you are bot dead right, bitch?" Jonathan said getting out of the car. There were five, 2 guys and 3 girls. "Don't prefer to suck my dick and be my slut, promise I'll pay a good amount." He said infront of me,

"She is already a slut baby." Veronica said

"I bet she has sleeped with half school, wouldn't surprise me if you haven been org*e or something." You know, comments are comments, you are the one who decide what hurt you and whats does not, but being Cassie the one who said that...broke my freaking heart.

I couldn't stand it anymore, wanted to leave the place so i came up with a plan very fast. I walked closer to Jonathan trying to be the most seductive I could, touched his chest, abs and got closer to his ear and said, "You are going to regret everything" Punched him with all my strenght in this genitiles, stomp on his feet, punched his nose and ran the faster I could out of there.

"You bitch!" I heard from far but i continued running, I couldn't stop, i was scared, didn't know what could happen if the get me. I could hear the car engines behind me, but i didn't stop.

I was close a bridge, ran underneath it, passed some houses but i could still hear the voices and car. My legs hurt, i needed to catch my breath, i could hear my heart beat, my body felt on fire. When I less expected am suddenly trapped, there were some abandoned buildings and warehouses but no way to get put of there. This was it, my end.

"Couldn't escape from me you nasty little bitch!?" I heard his voice, i was never one to pray but believe when i say i begged to God to save me. "You ain't going anywhere...bitch" he was behind me, I could sense it.

My hair was pulled, he pulls me by my hair to his car and i notice that it's just him and another guy. Am not getting out of here.

"We are going to have so much fun!" He licks my cheek and i try to kick him wherever.

"HELP!" I yelled, "SOMEBODY PLEASE, HELP!" my voice sounded horrific, like if i hadn't drank a single drop of water in ages, "please" y murmure my last pledge before he finally puts me over the capo of his car.

"No one's gonna help you, you slut." He says, the other guy was just watching and standing still, doing nothing.

I gave up, didn't even notice I was crying until I tasted the salt in my lips. I felt him over me, unbucking my pants and then...i didnt felt his weight anymore, instead, i heard a cry of pain, and then another cry, and another and another.

I lifted my head and there he was, grey hoddie and little hammer in hand...my savior. I smiled.

My smile just grew bigger and bigger every second I saw that boy swing that motherfucker hammer, every second that Jonathan's blood was spilled. I lool around in search pf the pther guy scared that he might try to grab but I get calm when i see him unconscious on the floor.

A few minuts later th cries stop and i look up, Jonathan was missing 3 teeths and face covered with blood, i think he could even have a brocken rib or something.

Am sitting on top of the car's capo when a feel a slight, fragile touch.

"You ok?" Wayne askes pulling a string of my hair behind my ear.

"...now I am." I smile to him and he returns a little small tiny one with a grin. I was about to say something else when he suddenly speaks

"Want to be my girlfriend or whatever?" He says looking exhausted, I chuckle

"Try a little harder and I might be." I say soflty with a small thin smile and he avoids my eyes but I still get to notice a small blush.

...................

Hey! So, yeah. This is my first ever published thing. Hope you enjoyed it and if you want a part two or to keep writing, am open to any suggestion! Am not very good with the warnings section so if you could help me with it, i would totally apreciate that!

Thank you for reading,

#fanfic #wayne mccullough #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne mccullough x y/n #fanfiction #wayne mccullough fanfic #wayne mccullough fanfiction #wayne #wayne x reader

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

The Hardest Part

Clay Spenser

A/N okay so this song keeps coming on the playlist I am obsessed over at the moment and it gave me an idea for Clay but I refused to write it because you know heartbreak but the more it kept coming on the more my brain screams at me to write it so here we are, writing to break my own bloody heart 🥺🥺🥺

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Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

“How’s your Dad doing kiddo?” Jase asked as he pulled his god daughter into his arms.

“Same as before,” Leigh sighed, resting her head against Jason’s shoulder as a few tears spilled from her eyes.

“And how are you doing?” He asked.

“I just feel numb,” Leigh whispered, as the tears started falling more “I don’t know what to do with Dad, he has completely shut everyone out. I just feel lost Uncle Jase, I need my Dad more than ever now but he’s just so shut off”

“Your Dad has always been a stubborn shit,” Jase half laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “You leave your old man to me okay. But try and get some sleep okay, I’m here if you need me.”

Jason watched his god daughter slowly walk out of the room, roughly wiping her tears on one of Clay’s hoodies. Running his hands over his face, he let out a muffled scream. Clay was going down the same road he went down and if he wasn’t careful he was going to lose his little girl as well.

But Jase knew that this was the hardest thing for anyone to deal with, and he had first hand experience, he wished he didn’t but you can’t change the past.

There were no more tears left to cry, all that was left was sore eyes, a heavy heart and a pain that felt like it was crushing him. It had been two months since one of the worst days of his life. He knew he should have followed you and maybe if he did you wouldn’t have ended up taking a bullet in the chest.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the memory of that night, the bitterness that was in the air, the warmth of your blood on his hands, the feeling as you took your last breath. He remembered it like it was only yesterday.

You weren’t meant to have been spun up, but the order came from upper brass, so you couldn’t fight the decision. And was pulled off Green Team training to be spun up with Bravo, on a mission that would change everybody’s life.

Upper brass saw it as mission success but to Bravo it was mission failure, they didn’t care they got their HVT, they lost a member of the family that day.

There's a dress in the closet that I just can't throw away. I know it might sound crazy, but I haven't changed your pillowcase. A heart half full, or half empty. Is half gone either way, with you gone. What went wrong?

Pushing himself to his feet he opened the wardrobe for the millionth time, running his hands over your clothes he knew he needed to go through them but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, he carried on until he landed on the one dress. Running his fingers across the white lace, more tears started to fall as he remembered the day you got married. One of the happiest days of his life.

Everything was too much for him now, he hadn’t showered or shaved in weeks, he wasn’t eating properly and the pile of whiskey bottles were piling up in the corner of the room. Everything was falling apart and his relationship with his little girl was taking the hit.

Throwing himself back onto the bed, he nuzzled his face into your pillow, taking in the smell of your shampoo, it wasn’t as strong anymore, but it was still there.

Maybe the hardest part is that we didn't break this heart. Nobody cheated or lied. I still have to live with goodbye. But how can I just move on? I've loved you for way too long. I don't want to admit that you're gone. I don't wanna write this song.

Everywhere he looked things reminded him of you, the whole house was full of memories, the base, the cages, the plane, the base at J-Bad. He couldn’t escape but he didn’t want to.

All he wanted to do was to hear your laugh, see your smile, hear you sing badly whilst cooking, feel your arms around him. But none of those things would ever happen again. You were taken too soon.

The heartbreak was killing him, this was the hardest goodbye he had ever had, he knew you would want him to move on but how could he, you were his life, his everything. Your relationship stood the test of time, childhood sweethearts. And it even stood the numerous deployments and spin ups.

He didn’t want to admit you were gone. That he’d never be able to hold you again.

Another glass of whiskey, by your picture in a frame. I'm playin' all the black keys. And cryin' out your name. I'm holdin' on, or lettin' go. It's gonna kill me either way. With you gone. Bobby pins on the dresser. Wilted flowers in a vase. I left a rose on your headstone. I never quite know what to say.

After months Clay finally showered and left the house, he felt like he was being suffocated in his own home. He hadn’t seen his daughter for weeks. The last time he saw Leigh they got into an argument and she stormed out of the house.

He knew she was safe and was staying with Jase but it didn’t make it hurt any less. His little girl was hurting just as much as he was and he wasn’t by her side.

Slumping on the grass, the leant against the pure white headstone. The red rose he placed on the top stood out against the brightness of the marble.

“I don’t know what to do babygirl,” he sobbed, picking at the grass beneath him. “I’m so lost without you,”

“Dad,” a small voice came from in front of him.

Looking up to see Leigh standing there, tears threatening to fall, she looked just as he felt. This was the first time he took a good look at his Princess, even though it was hard. She was the splitting image of you which made things harder for him.

“Come here baby,” Clay whispered, opening his arms.

Leigh didn’t need telling twice as she curled up in her Dad’s arms, just like she used to growing up.

“I’m sorry baby,” Clay sobbed, nuzzling his nose in her daughter's hair. “I’m sorry for everything, for pushing you away, for being the worst Dad ever and for not being able to protect your mum.”

“Dad, stop,” Leigh sniffed, “Stop blaming yourself, please.”

“I just wish your Mum was still here,” Clay cried.

“Me too Dad, me too,” Leigh cried. “But we will do what Mum would do, we will get through this as a family. It might take time but we need to be each other’s strength.”

“Why are you so wise?” Clay whispered, kissing Leigh’s head.

“I got my wisdom and brains from Mum,” Leigh half laughed.

“You sure did baby,” Clay whispered, cracking somewhat of a smile for the first time in months.

The two of them sat there on the grass by your graveside, silently crying as they grieved the one person who could never be replaced.

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace @theysayitscrazy @pascal-reyes

#IM SORRY THIS HURT ME TO #Clay Spenser #clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #clay spenser oneshot #seal team #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #seal team oneshot

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adonis-koo · 4 years

Text

Blue Spring

| 3 |

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there…Well…besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter…if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words…You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Word Count: 6k

Previous | Next

The next day came just as quick as the last and just as anticipated Seo Yeon had came to pick Mina up, shooting you a nasty sneer, you did your best to keep a straight face as you watched Mina screech at being pulled away from you, her little arms pitifully reaching for you as fat tears rolled down her face. Her mom ignored her cries as she grabbed Mina’s backpack and left.

Sighing you leaned against your seat before tutting, Jungkook really wasn’t joking about her not liking her mom.

After you had finished shift you planned on grabbing some fast food before heading back for the dorm to study up on your upcoming test, your phone had sudden alerted you to a new text, pausing in the parking lot you glanced at the phone as you furrowed your brows, was one of your roommates going to ask you to get something for them? You had told them if anyone wanted anything to shoot you a text as you were all going to study together but…

You felt a non expect sweat break on your neck at the sight of who it was from.

[Jungkook 06:32]

‘Hey! I was wondering if you wanted to come over? Making stir fry with kimchi and I don’t think I can eat it all by myself’

Nibbling against your lip you tried your best to swallow the lump in your throat, he wanted you to come over….? You had done so plenty of times before, whether it was to watch Mina on the weekend or for movie night, but Mina was always present. Being alone with Jungkook....you wouldn’t lie, you felt a little scared.

Scared wasn’t the right term, you felt safe with Jungkook, but anything could happen when it was just the two of you, alone....Pressing your lips together you felt your stomach growl as you rubbed your forehead, you promised your roommates you’d study with them tonight too...But dinner wouldn’t hurt right? Then you’d go straight back home! Yeah that’s all, you were just having dinner together….alone...in his house…

Before you could talk yourself out of it you were already hurriedly typing before you changed your mind.

[06:35]

‘That sounds amazing omg! You really wouldn’t mind me crashing to steal your food?’

[Jungkook 06:35]

‘It’s not stealing if I’m offering it for free baby ~ See you in ten’

You felt your heart lurch into your throat as your eyes honed in on the four little letters, baby? When had Jungkook ever addressed you by a pet name before? Was that even appropriate after what had happened yesterday? Forcing your phone back into your pocket you pushed your nervousness away as you drove to his house.

Knocking against his door you calmed your breath, dinner! It was just dinner, that’s all it was, just dinner. The door opened wide to a beaming Jungkook, you even felt a little bad at how in the gutter your mind had been when you saw how boyish his expression was, “Come on I just finished up, let’s eat before it gets cold,” He ushered you in as you let out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound a relieved as you felt, “Sorry for the abrupt text but I’m not used to eating alone,” He feebishly rubbed the back of his neck as you both sat down at the table, “Mina usually has dinner with me….”

“It’s okay I don’t mind,” You shrugged with a tiny smile, timidly tugging on a strand of your hair before beginning to pile the delicious smelling stir fry onto your plate and his kimchi looked to die for, was there anything this man couldn’t do? “I’m sure it’s weird without Mina here, I’m so used to her greeting me anytime I come over.”

Oh god, you hope it didn’t come across like you were only here for Mina! Jungkook only smiled fondly though as he began to eat while he nodded, “Tell me about it, Seo Yeon’s sister is getting married so they’re prepping for the wedding tomorrow, that’s why Mina is over there so it’s just me myself and I the next few days.”

You glanced at your plate as you smiled, you could only imagine her with her hair attempted in curls and a pretty puffy white dress on to match the wedding theme, she’d look adorable, “Uh Y/n…” He suddenly cleared his throat, gaining your attention, looking a little sheepish as scratched his nose, eyes suddenly darting away from yours, “I just...wanted to apologize again for what happened yesterday.”

The anger and frustration you had felt the other day had faded and your heart softened at his meek expression, offering you a tiny smile before suddenly looking back down at his food and attempting to play off his actions by eating more, “It’s alright, It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with a pissed parent before. But…” You pressed your lips together as you looked away, “Let’s not fixate on that, it was just a mistake after all. What about you? I figured you’d probably stay holed up at work to get more of the DLC’s mechanics balanced.”

Jungkook groaned as he leaned back in his seat despite the breathy chuckle leaving his lips, “No, coworkers make me wanna pull my hair out, I was able to fix up over half the melee weaponry stats Saturday but at what cost? Told them they can kindly go fuck themselves next time they fire half of our team.” Jungkook pecked at his food looking a little huffy as you laughed, you thought it was cute in all honesty.

Jungkook had been a little shy when he first told you about his love of video games, but he loved them so much he had turned it into a career as he found he loved the developing side to games as well, being such a big computer nerd had gotten him far up in the design team. You couldn’t help but find it endearing watching how passionately he talked about it.

Dinner had been amazing of course, Jungkook was an amazing cook but apparently his mom and dad ran a restaurant therefore growing up he was always surrounded by amazing cooks and had learned from the best. You could see the pride in his eyes when you complimented on how delicious his kimchi was, only to answer that it was his mother's recipe. Adorable.

Staying curled up against the couch you wrapped the blanket around you tighter, Jungkook had managed to pull your legs over his lap as he leaned in a little closer, the avengers playing and your popcorn had been left unattended on the coffee table.

Instead you felt your throat become a little dry at Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, you knew he worked out but Jesus, you could feel the definition in his body and it was making your heart thump in your chest. Calm down okay, you’re just cuddling! That’s normal!

“Mmm y’know I’m really glad I finally got the courage to ask you out?” You tried not to tense at Jungkook’s whispered words as he let his nose drop into the crook of your neck, his confession sending a tingling sensation against your spine as he nudged your skin a little, “I just...I don’t know, It's been so long since I’ve felt so connected to someone, it’s nice.”

Your heart felt a little warmer at his words and your body began to relax in his grip even going as far as to reciprocate his nuzzle, your lips pulling into a shy smile as you hummed, “It is, it’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone. It is nice. Lisa and Chloe,” You paused a little as you felt a bit embarrassed at your confession, “They tried convincing me for the longest time you liked me but…”

Jungkook pulled away from your neck a little, a toothy bunny smile on his lips as he raised his brows a little, “But?” His forehead nearly brushing against yours.

Rubbing your cheek a little your smile became a little shy, “But I didn’t believe them. I just assumed you liked me because I was the only worker Mina liked.” It felt a little silly to think about now, all the times he was sheepish while talking to you, the way his cheeks would tint pink ever so slightly when you brightly smiled at him.

It seemed so obvious despite his rather shy nature, Jungkook’s smile became a little bashful yet his eyes sparked playfulness as he chuckled, “Well it didn’t really help that the hints I dropped were extremely subtle. But we’re here now aren’t we?”

His nose was brushing against yours and you felt that dry patch in your throat return, his eyes were so pretty this close up, they were a deep warm brown, almost like a cozy cup of coffee first thing in the morning or the sweetest last piece of chocolate, they made your heart beat faster and your face flush, “We are.”

You felt your breath hitch at the way his nose rubbed against yours, your fluttering shut as you felt a small hesitation in the gap between you both, Jungkook was the one that determinedly closed it, his lips were just as soft as they looked as they tenderly worked against your own, his hands caressing your face as you leaned into the kiss.

His lips were so addicting, was it really your fault that you had let out a soft whine at the way he nibbled against your bottom, your lips almost quivering if they had the chance before immediately admitting defeat and parting your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he began lathing against your own tongue in dominance.

Your once gentle kiss became more and more heated by the moment as you let out a gurgled whine, one hand shuffling to your waist to help situate you as you climbed into his lap, your body becoming lit with heat and neediness.

Straddling his hips you were only allowed a second to breath from breaking the kiss before he grabbed your chin roughly, lips sealed back against your and his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth once more, meekly parting your lips as you let him have his way, hands greedily grabbing and squeezing at your waist as you whimpered into his mouth, your hips beginning to wiggle against his only to jump slightly at the half hard on you felt.

If your cheeks weren’t hot before they were now at the idea of how large he would be when he was fully hardened, your hips just as eager as you as they continued grinding against him. What you hadn’t expected was a loud phone ring causing you both to jump, Jungkook’s lips finally detaching themselves from yours as you tried to catch your breath.

Digging out his phone you expected him to toss it aside before returning to your needy self, instead he bit his lip as he sighed, “Shit, sorry, I need to take this.” He didn’t seem necessarily happy to take the call but did regardless, “Yeah Seo Yeon?”

What mood had been set had instantly deflated in you as you felt your senses come back to you, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his lap while he was talking to his ex wife, you felt dirty. Even if they were divorced and Jungkook was free to see you, you still felt dirty, maybe like a second option, “Uh yeah a 1 to 2T should fit her just fine, she’s rather petite though so it might be a little big- you guys can always pin it if you needed too- isn’t this a little late considering the is the day after tomorrow?”

You understood, Jungkook answered because it was for Mina’s sake but...You had already pulled yourself off his lap, his eyes immediately locking to your figure as you mustered a weak smile before awkwardly glancing at your lap, why did you feel like a third wheel when he was only on the phone?

Jungkook hung up only a minute later, as you reached down for the strap of your bag that had made home slumped against the leg of the coffee table, “Ah sorry- they needed to make sure Mina’s dress was going to fit properly.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay...I uh…” You could hardly look at him as you grabbed your bag, a timid yet apprehensive look on your face as you finally glanced at him, “I should go….I promised my roommates that I’d study with them tonight so…”

You could visibly see the way Jungkook’s eyes dimmed, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to smile though it looked pitiful and strained, “Yeah- yeah of course! Thanks for coming over, I really enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, it was fun. I’ll see you later.” Was it sad you didn’t even wait for him to say goodbye?

“Ouch, you were that close to doing it and then his ex called?” Chloe stirred her coffee as she cringed, they both looked at you in pity as you groaned, pressing your hands into your face as Lisa stood up at the sound of one of the boys and girls fighting over one playing with the other.

Sighing you rubbed your forehead before glancing back at the table, you hadn’t seen Lisa or Chloe over the weekend and had been dying to tell them in hopes of some sort of advice, “I just don’t know what to do Chloe! I know it’s my insecurity but everytime I think I’m okay with the fact that he’s a single dad and he has an ex wife it just jumps back out again! I mean really, I guess it’s just making me wonder if I really want to be involved in this.”

Chloe sent you a sympathetic smile as she set her coffee down, “I think it’s normal in this type of scenario but honestly babe if you really like him then it’s just something you’re going to have to tolerate, and even be supportive of at times, not in the fact of him seeing his ex, but supporting him wanting to make the effort to keep in contact with her for the sake of Mina.”

Picking at your fingernails you sighed, she was right of course, you did really like Jungkook, he was handsome, he had the sweetest personality and was so boyish and competitive over silly things like video games or that time he took you and Mina bowling and he had to prove to those stupid college fratboys he was the superior bowler. Or that time he did his best Peppa Pig impression to make Mina giggle. Or- You got the point.

But you just couldn’t shake the idea of him and Seo Yeon together out of your head, even though they weren’t together anymore it was clear she was still very attached to him and he still complied even if it was disgruntled, they made a good looking couple. God, you really were insecure, weren’t you? You groaned internally, this wasn’t high school! You shouldn’t even feel like this!

“I know...It’s just confusing right now...I still feel bad, I mean, it was...intense, until she called.” You laid your arms out on the table as you set your chin on them as your gaze flickered to the clock, he was late. Jungkook always dropped Mina off at 7:25, five minutes before you usually arrived, it was already nearing the last quarter of eight am....Maybe he got Seo Yeon to watch her today since she’s such a good mother.

You felt a stroke of guilt click inside you, she was Mina’s mother, she had every right to watch her over you. Why did you feel so jealous all of a sudden? Pressing your lips together you only sulked as Chloe gave you a pat on the back. You waited, and waited, and waited some more but Jungkook never dropped Mina off, no text, no call, nothing, it was Monday, as in the day you’d usually go home with Jungkook and Mina to hang out...Your lips quirked into a frown as you sat in your car...you guessed that were cancelled now huh….

There was always Friday...except there wasn’t. Again, Jungkook didn’t show up with Mina, again throughout the week and you had hoped he’d make an appearance Friday but once again, nothing.

You couldn’t help but feel worry begin to eat away at you, constantly debating with your coworkers on whether you should just text him to ask if he was still alive but you could never fully commit yourself. You had become sulkier throughout the week much to your coworkers sadness.

Staying zoned out half the time when you weren’t refereeing fights, bribing kids into nap time or picking up the room when it was a wreck of toys, you missed him. You really missed him. Your roommates had even noticed and tried getting you to get you out there, to ‘find’ someone else. But you didn’t want to find someone else, you wanted to see Jungkooks stupid bunny smile.

You wanted to watch the way he pinched his brows in annoyance when he ranted about someone at work or the way his eyes lit up in victory when he won a match in Overwatch, or how fond and soft his face became when he watched Mina playing with her stuffed animals.

You wanted all of it. And now you had none of it.

Sleep had become less and less and your thoughts only became more focused on Jungkook any moment you weren’t working or studying, and even then he still lingered in the back of your mind.

Did he go back to Seo Yeon? Was that it? Did he change his mind, she was Mina’s mother, the wife that he concieved her with. What the hell did you know about raising a child anyways? You couldn’t stop your glum thoughts as you rubbed your eyes, setting down your coffee as your coworkers greeted you, another day, another disappointment.

It was better this way, you’d never be the person Mina would need growing up, she’d probably hate you later on and view you like an ugly stepmother. You were pulled out of your thoughts at one of the girls tugging on your shirt while asking if they could use the bathroom, standing up you nodded as you gave a smile, “Of course hun.” Walking over to the gated off bathroom you opened it but not before reminding her to shut the door as she went to try and pull up her shirt which made you frantically tell her to shut the door.

After a moment it registered and she did as told as you sighed running a hand through your hair before a tiny laugh escaped you, kids really had no sense of privacy, did they? You made sure she washed her hands after she swung the door open announcing she was done before letting her back out to play once more. Turning around you swallowed thickly at the sight of black tufts of hair that matched the little girls longer hair braided in pigtails.

Rather than greet them you meekly turned back around, sitting at the train table with a few of the other kids as you smiled, well aware it was dull as you helped build the long train, feeling eyes train on you from far away along with the familiar cries of Mina, “Babygirl look, She’s right here.” You weakly glanced up at the long legs that struggled to walk because of Mina who clung to him with a whine, “C’mon don’t be pouty she’s right here if you’d just look.”

You hated how much your heart fluttered at his playful voice as he scooped Mina up as she gave a delighted gurgle, as if knowing he was right and just wanting to be difficult, sitting down next to you he set her in his lap, he was early today, “See? She’s making a pretty cool train huh?” Jungkook observed as he grabbed one of the trainee pieces, it looked tiny in his hand compared to Mina’s as he gave it to her, she inspected it carefully, letting the wheel roll against her tiny finger as she continued to roll it as if mesmerized.

“Uh hey….” Jungkook murmured, his gaze focused on Mina, you didn’t say anything, only glancing back at the table as you felt that pit in your stomach return again. Tension that had already been present seemed to grow even stronger as Jungkook bit against his lip.

Taking a slow inhale you finally let out a bitter chuckle, your eyes glaring weakly into the three piece train you built as you huffed a breath of air, “You could have just told me you didn’t wanna see me anymore, I-I mean it’s fine. I’m used to rejection y’know? It’s- it’s not like-”

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. I never- Y/n I never said I didn’t want to see you anymore-” “Yeah that’s what I mean-” “No! It’s not like that,” Jungkook cut you off once more as you sighed, glancing back at the train table as you rested your chin against it, monotonously pushing the train back and forth, “Look I’m sorry okay? I meant to text you, I really did but it’s just been crazy. I...I told Seo Yeon, about us. I told her to give me more space so I could spend more time with you and she’s just been,” Jungkook stopped himself from swearing as he cleared his voice a little, “Crazy, said she was going to file for full custody over Mina and that she could take Mina away if she really wanted too, it’s been insane. I just...You could have texted me too, I would have replied in a heartbeat.”

If you didn’t feel bad before you felt even worse now, god you were an adult! And you let something as feeble as insecurity get the better of you, “...I know...I just figured you probably wanted space or something...” It was the truth, in reality, you figured it was probably something akin to that. But now looking back on it of course this was all for Mina, the only reason Jungkook would miss a week of daycare would be for Mina, the way he’d forget to text you to let you know, for her. Jungkook was the most loyal and dedicated dad you had ever met, and you had met a lot.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at your slumped puppy like figure, had you really been moping around the whole week? He felt his heart crumple a little at the sight as he let his hand reach out and stroke through your hair, “Can I take you out tonight when I pick up Mina, I could really use a distraction with everything that’s going on, and I really want to make it up to you,” He finally let his bunny smile tug on his lips, “If you’ll let me.”

“Of course you can.” You mumbled, not taking your eyes off the train as you continued to roll it back and forth.

You could hear Jungkook's honeyed laugh, you missed it’s deep warmth as he fondly stroked your hair, “Then perk up baby, you look prettier when you smile.” There it was, that pet name again that had your stomach sent into a frenzy, a tiny smile tugging on your lips as you shyly glanced back at him, his eyes affectionate in that same way he always looked at Mina, except he was looking at you, letting his hand curve down your head to your chin as he gave it a soft squeeze, “There you go. I need to go but I’ll see you soon okay?”

You nodded as he set Mina on your lap who didn’t even regard her dad as he kissed her forehead, her eyes still trained on the wheel she spun as she made herself comfortable on your lap.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her furrowed brows and how trained her focus was. Your heart admittedly felt a lot lighter and you felt a lot siller. If you stood a chance at all with becoming a part of Jungkook and Mina’s life you’d definitely have to toughen up your soft skin. For them.

The day had gone by surprisingly quick, the only hiccup was Mina whining about naptime, she had tugged on your hand as if trying to get you to nap with her.

Sighing you shook your head, you had admittedly entertained her a lot of days when you watched her at Jungkook’s often taking naps with her when it was time. Eventually after sitting down and reading a story to her she eventually fell asleep.

Craft time went well despite Mina trying to kick away another little girl while sitting in your lap and coloring over your princess picture you had been working on for the past three hours, oh well. Jungkook didn’t come back until around four.

The ride had been quiet though, your figure leaned against the window as you glanced out it, there was no tension anymore, but you knew the quietness wasn’t normal either. Jungkook’s gaze flickered to you a few times before he sighed, pulling the car into park as you noticed the droplets of rain splatter against the glass, “C’mon talk to me, what’s bothering you?”

“I’m not bothered…” You replied, shrugging a little as your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before dropping once more, sighing as you pressed your lips together to gather your thoughts. Jungkook waited patiently as if knowing you were in thought.

Giving a small sigh your lips quivered a little as you lowered your gaze, “I...I just wanted to apologize I guess…I mean, I’ve just let my insecurity get the better of me everytime we’re together and- and I’m going to be honest with you Jungkook, you’re probably better off finding someone older than me or- or hell I don’t know a single mom or something. Because I doubt I’m equipped to handle any of this. I have no clue how any of this works.”

You felt a certain level of shame wash over you at your words but they were the truth, stepping into Jungkook’s life meant stepping into Mina’s as well and that came with a lot of responsibility you weren’t sure you would be able to manage. And admittedly, you didn’t want to lead Jungkook on if you genuinely couldn’t see yourself committing.

“Y/n…” Jungkook murmured softly watching you delicately, the way you fumbled with your fingers and your gaze had stayed dropped on your lap. You looked oddly timid and ashamed of yourself when you really had no reason to be, “Look, I can understand where you’re coming from,” Jungkook sighed softly, his own gaze falling to the steering wheel as he murmured.

“Being a parent isn’t easy, but nobody is ever truly prepared for it. I know I wasn’t. But I don’t want a single mom, or someone older than you. I like you Y/n.” His hand reached over, encasing yours making you glance up meekly at his warm expression, “And if you don’t want to do this, or be a part of this…” His smile looked a little strained and didn’t quite meet his eyes, as if it hurt to think about, “I wouldn’t blame you. But if you’re feeling insecure just because you don’t think you’d be any good then I’m going to insist you keep dating me.”

You couldn’t stop the ugly snort from escaping you as Jungkook’s lips curled into a mutual smile, his thumb brushing against the top of your hand, “Because I think you’d make an amazing mother, you love Mina just as much as I do. And you’re always so sweet with children, and you’re always considering what others think and putting them first-” “Stop! Stop! Stop!” “- I’m just stating the truth.” Jungkook chuckled as you pressed your hands to your ears repeatedly chanting the single word. Your face flushed and you felt flustered that Jungkook really thought that highly of you.

“And I don’t mean to scare you off either,” Jungkook laughed as you pressed your hands to your face, letting out a strangled noise as he gently ruffled your hair, “I just want to reassure you. I know being with me means being with Mina, and it is a lot of responsibility, but I know you’d be amazing. And even if you feel like you won’t I’ll help you the whole way through. Okay?”

You nibbled against your lip, his eyes were so warm and comforting, how could you ever resist when they were so sweet and sincere? You gave a tiny nod before timidly glancing at your lap. Jungkook had parted his lips as if to continue but a toy had interrupted your conversation, the stuffed bear hitting the window and fussy gurgles from Mina sounded in the back, “Alright, alright we get it you’re hungry!” Jungkook huffed as he glanced back, her tiny lips tugging into a smile as she giggled while clapping her hands as if happy to have his attention back on her.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you before you both got out of the car, Jungkook picked her up from her car seat while you made sure to grab her stuffed bear.

Mina excitedly bounced against him as she happily babbled at you with bright doe eyes, her arms reaching out as she leaned her body forward, “You are so spoilt.” Jungkook tutted as he poked her side, gaining a giggle from her as the smile tugged on your lips, letting him pass her off to you as she happily swung her stuffed animal about. You sat down at the table as Jungkook pulled up a booster seat. Mina was always wiggly but having you here must have excited her sense she seemed to squirm even more making her even harder to get sat down.

Buckling her, you smiled softly as her little hand wrapped around your finger, her brows pinching as her babbled slowed as if trying to say something. The sad truth about being a daycare worker was...you had heard kids' first words before their parents ever did...instead of saying something it was mutually agreed to let the parent announce it to you rather than promptly tell them they had been babbling words for days at the daycare if not weeks. Mina however, had yet to speak her first words but she was certainly trying her best.

Chuckling you pulled from her grip making her concentration break as she whined, “I’m sorry honey, we need to order.” You poked her cheek making a giggle erupt from her throat as the smile tugged on your cheek. The waitress seemed delighted at the three of you as she took your order before heading to the front once more.

Spending time with Jungkook like this was much needed, his bright smile and his deep laugh while you both talked about work and who had been annoying, what absurd things you had to deal with because of the kids. Whatever doubt that had been planted inside you seemed to vanish with each conversation.

Mina eventually getting fussy and wanting to toddle around, she was quite independent for only having been one years old. You both had set her down at the little play area before resuming your conversation, “No really, you haven’t dated anyone since the divorce?” You really couldn’t believe it. Jungkook was so handsome and he was such a sweetheart, it was hard to imagine him single for this long.

Jungkook leaned back in his seat, his smile evident as he sighed, running a hand through his hair, pausing his movement to look at you as you began to laugh, “Why is that hard to believe?” You felt your face flush at the confident smirk he sent you, “I’ve slept with a few girls if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

You could hear his throaty chuckle due to your hands covering your face as you felt yourself choke on your words. In the beginning, you and Jungkook were both rather timid, hyper aware of not wanting to mess anything up. But as time continued on Jungkook was the one that seemed to be more confident in his flirting, whereas you would coil away in embarrassment. It wasn’t a bad thing, but his teasing...admittedly did turn you on…

“That’s not what I meant!” You whined as you shuffled in your seat, your eyes jumping to Mina out of habit from being at the daycare for so long as you watched her play before glancing back at Jungkook’s relaxed, yet amused figure.

“Your reaction was still cute,” Jungkook remarked as you glanced away with a scowl making him laugh softly, “In all honesty, I just wasn’t interested in dating for a long time. Like I said, I’ve had a few flings but they were never interested in taking it further, and neither was I. While it may be hard to imagine, I do tend to scare women away when I mention the dad part.”

You leaned your head against your hand, your eyes lingering on Mina’s figure that curiously kept trying to tug the block out of the wall, not understanding it was glued and unable to come undone, she even gave a whine in frustration, “Given the circumstances I can understand why you wouldn’t be interested, given Seo Yeon,” You gave a bit of an exasperated puff of air, “But what changed your mind?” You didn’t want to blatantly ask him why he decided to give things a try with you, but you were interested as to why. What was different about you compared to any other girl?

Jungkook pressed his lips together for a moment in thought before shrugging, “Well I think the most obvious reasoning was when we first met, I went home every day thinking about what the workers told me about how Mina was, and then we met you and she instantly liked you.”

You couldn’t help the tiny smile tug on your lips, feeling your cheeks flush a little, “I was just relieved at first. I didn’t really think anything of it until a few months later when I went to pick Mina up and saw her sitting in your lap. You were rambling about how Mulan's dress wasn’t pink though you thought it was a good color because that was what Mina was using,” Your brows raised and your lips parted his words, his gaze focused on Mina but his eyes were fond at the memory.

“And when I came in she fell off your lap from squirming so much because she saw me. You picked her up while cooing when she bursted into tears...You were the first person she’d let pick her up in a fit of tears besides me...And I don’t know, I guess seeing you both in that moment, seeing your expression when she bursted into tears...It just made me think, and the more I thought about it, the more it just seemed to...fit.”

You felt your face flush as you glanced at him, the loud whine before a sudden screech immediately making your gaze snap to Mina who had tugged against the block before accidentally throwing her weight a little too harshly back making her trip onto her bottom. Fat crocodile tears leaked from her eyes as she looked to you, her little arms stretching out as sobs bubbled from her lips, “Poor baby, what a mean block!” You cooed as you walked over to her, kneeling down, before squishing her sides, “Does Mina feel a little better?” Tears trickled from her eyes despite the little giggle escaping her your fingers tickling her sides making her giggle more, a whine escaped her lips as she stretched her arms up wanting you to hold her, “Awwh c’mere baby.”

You picked her up as she pressed her little head against the crook of your neck as she began to cry again, “So dramatic!” You laughed as you glanced at Jungkook making him laugh as well, letting his head rest against the palm of his hand as he glanced at you both sofly, “She loves making a scene doesn’t she?”

“She probably noticed we were too close and needed to intervene,” Jungkook tutted as he stood up and walked over, poking Mina as he leaned in a little, “Isn’t that right princess? You need mine and Y/n’s attention don’t you?” His voice was high pitched and cooed as Mina sniffled before glancing up at Jungkook’s voice, a toothy smile on her face as she clapped her hands together.

You felt your lips curl into a timid smile as his eyes flickered up to meet yours, his own smile coiling into a smirk making your gaze immediately drop. God he could be intimidating when he wanted.

“How dare you let that slut hold our child!”

You both jolted at the screech from behind you, turning around you were sure your face had drain of any color as your eyes locked with Seo Yeon who looked utterly pissed off. You couldn’t help but hold Mina tighter to your chest, “I should have known this whore was messing with your head!” Seo Yeon sneered as she marched over.

Jungkook immediately stepped in front of you protectively, his shoulders stiff and his jaw gritted, “What? Did you hunt me down to try and take my daughter away? To what? Try and threaten me and my girlfriend?” Your heart was beating frantically with adrenaline as you glanced at Seo Yeon’s glaring daggers.

“I came to see the slut that’s brainwashed you!” Seo Yeon seethed, her eyes burning into your figure as if hoping you’d turn to ash where you stood, you could feel your lips quiver a little as your gaze dropped, “Jungkook we belong together with our daughter! Now get Mina away from her and let’s go and talk this out!”

Jungkook took a step back, you couldn’t see his expression but you imagined it didn’t look pleasant in the least, “Seo Yeon,” His voice was deeper than normal as he growled lowly, “It’s over between us. It’s been over since the divorce. No amount of threatening or begging will make me take you back. I’m happy now and I’m not going to ruin that because of you.”

Seo Yeon’s eyes were brimmed with both anger and tears, her lips quivering but Jungkook wouldn’t even let her speak, “And don’t even fucking threaten custudy over Mina because I will win that battle. If you care about your daughter at all, you’ll fucking let this go and move on.”

“She’s completely fooled you Jungkook!” She nearly screamed, her fists curled up but Jungkook ignored her words, turning towards you to wrap an arm around you, muttering a ‘lets go’. His words suddenly bringing awareness to your surroundings, so many people were staring! How embarrassing, “I won’t let that slut ruin our lives!”

Jungkook practically pushed you out the door, his shoulders tense and his expression dark and brooding. You fumbled with putting Mina in her car seat, quickly buckling her with the fear of Seo Yeon chasing after you both. Sitting in the front seat it was quiet as the rain pattered against the glass.

Neither of you spoke a word and you could feel tension practically crawling in the air with it’s gritty uncomfortable tone. It wasn’t until Jungkook parked in the driveway of his house that you both stilled. The rain had led up but still gently pattered. You wanted to speak, but you didn’t know what to say.

What you didn’t expect was the loud thud to sound in the car, Jungkook’s palm slamming against the steering wheel making you jump as he beat his hands against it harshly, “She pisses me off so fucking much!” You leered back a little, concern written in your eyes as he slammed the steering wheel one last time before his fingers weakly coiled around it.

It was quiet for another moment before you sighed softly, reaching out to let your hand gently grab his bicep, his muscles tensed at your touch and he refused to meet your gaze, “Jungkook, I promise everything is going to be okay.” His muscles began to relax under your grip before he let out a shaky breath.

Your heart practically crumbled at the way his eyes were on the brink of tears, behind his anger was raw fear, fear of potentially losing Mina. He would be devastated. Jungkook couldn’t even bring himself to speak, his lips only trembling and defeatedly closing his eyes as tears slid down his cheeks.

Leaning over you wrapped your arms around him, burying your nose into his hair as you closed your eyes, Jungkook needed you now more than ever, you weren’t going to let your insecurity get the better of you, not now, not anymore, “Everything will be okay.”

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this part! Things have gotten saucy in more ways then one! I am a Lazy™️ hoe so there will be a time jump next chapter but regardless I hope you guys like the story thus far!

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader smut #bts au

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lilyeholland · 4 years

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Before It’s Too Late [Part 2]

[Reggie Peters x Reader] PART ONE - PART TWO

Summary: Y/N and Reggie have never officially stated what they were to each other, so Y/N plans to tell the brunette bassist how she really feels before him and his band are to take stage at the Orpheum. Little did they know this would be there last encounter. *only a little bit inspired by Stranger by Jeremy Shada*

Warnings: super fluffy at first and then BAM the angst hits you like a truck :) it’s also lowkey kinda long lol, mentions of death

Word Count: 10k I’M SO SORRY IT REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME IT’S WORTH THE READ THOUGH I PROMISE

The night before, you had stayed up writing and rewriting your confession letter to Reggie - the one you were going to give him before he performed. There were countless amounts of crumpled papers on your floor all because you insisted on writing it in pen and making every individual letter look perfect. Finally, once you were satisfied with the way the ink stained the thin sheets of paper, you sealed it in a blush pink envelope, sprayed your perfume on it, and wrote Reggie’s name in big bubbly cursive letters, you set it on the corner of desk and anticipated its arrival in Reggie’s hands.

You knew better than to go to Reggie’s house in hopes to find him and talk to him - he was rarely ever there. Instead, he’d be at the garage studio regardless of if the boys were there with him.

You lean against the big white doors of the studio, admiring the way Reggie is laying on his back staring at the ceiling and riffing away at his unplugged bass. “Knock, knock,” you say, startling the innocent boy in front of you to his feet.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” You both take steps closer to each other. Reggie sinks his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do with him, but wanting to reach out to you and smother you in a hug.

“Yeah, I just wanted to come by and ask if it was alright if I came by before the show to wish you luck. Since, you know, I can’t watch you guys play.” You offer him a solemn smile, but he just grins widely at you.

“You can totally come by,” he bites his lip and hides his smile. “We’ll be done with our sound check around 5 and you can come by then?” He questions, just to make sure it works with you.

You nod your head and smile back at him.

“You can meet us by the backstage doors - it’s in this really creepy-looking alleyway, but I promise its safe.” Again with the cute faces that make you want to throw away the whole plan and tell him you want to be his official girlfriend right now. “No one’s died there yet... That I know of.”

“If I get murdered there, I’m blaming you,” you tease, earning a longing look hidden behind a breathy laugh from Reggie.

“You won’t,” he sings as he pulls you in for a tight hug. “I won’t let that happen to you.” As his arms envelope themselves around you, yours do the same to his torso.

“Promise?” you test him, looking up but never untangling yourself from his embrace.

“Promise.” He nods his head once, his smile beginning to form a magnet-like attraction to yours. He leans down slightly as he slides his hand up your body to cup your cheek. Your lips barely graze one another’s before -

“Oh, sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Luke says with wide eyes as him, Alex, and Bobby walk in. The three of them chuckle to each other, knowing full-well what they almost just witnessed.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say as you dust off any remaining Reggie on your body. “I was just leaving anyway.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he winks cheekily and waves you off.

All that and he still can’t call himself your boyfriend? Well, you usually have to kiss your boyfriend, so it makes sense.

It’s not like you and Reggie had never kissed before - twice actually - but neither of them count as a real kiss in your eyes. The first one was just an embarrassing moment from a few months ago where you had leaned in to kiss his cheek but he turned his head too quick and accidentally landed his lips right on top of yours. It lasted .02 seconds and you were both really flustered afterward. The second one was just a consequence of playing spin the bottle.

It was frustrating that both times you had almost really kissed had been interrupted so abruptly. You hoped and prayed that you would finally be able to kiss him tomorrow before the show.

The day finally was here and you had prepped your lips with a special raspberry shiny gloss beforehand, in hopes Reggie’s focus would be on your lips and he’d be more tempted to make the first move.

You take one last look in the mirror, fixing the smudges of lip gloss around your mouth and then spraying one last spritz of your perfume on the letter addressed to Reginald Peters, himself.

You had not expected him to already be in the creepy alleyway with 2/3 others in Sunset Curve - but he was - joking and laughing away with them. He couldn’t have noticed you any faster than he did, saying something to the band quickly and then jogging over to you so you didn’t have to walk so far. Also so you had more privacy.

The first thing he does is bring you into a hot, sticky hug. Surprisingly, it doesn’t smell bad.

“Ooh, sweaty,” you comment jokingly.

“Haha, yeah, sorry about that. I might’ve gone a little too hard during Now or Never,” he shakes himself out of the hug and smiles at you before noticing the envelope with his name on it. “What’s this?” His eyes widen as he rubs his hands together like a little kid waiting to open presents on Christmas morning.

“Oh!” You suddenly become extremely embarrassed of what you wrote on those pages, now nervous for him to open it and read it. “Just some letter I wrote you,” he had already taken it upon himself to take it and open it up, only increasing the anxiety-nausea in your stomach. His eyes begin skimming the top lines, a grin forming at his lips.

“You know, it’ll probably take you a while to read it so how about I just sum up what it says for you,” you pull the letter away from his face, beginning to panic. “Basically, um,” you giggle nervously and glance up at him from under your eyelashes. He’s giving you the puppy look again. “I like you Reggie. A lot. And I don’t really know what we’re doing each other, but I just wanted to tell you how I really feel about you before you play the Orpheum and get super famous and inevitably forget about me, so here it goes,” you finally take a deep breath after getting all that out.

Reggie grabs your hand in his, too nervous to interrupt or add anything to what you just blurted.

“I think I love you, Reggie.” He clocks his head in your direction, not in a shocked way, more in an interested way, opening his mouth to say something back. “But before you say anything, I don’t wanna rush you cause I know we’re still so young and we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. I just - I wanna be your girlfriend.” You finish by squeezing his hand that’s still intertwined with yours and sucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

“Is that really what the letter said?” He asks.

“I may have added some stuff,” you whisper, almost ashamed of the guts you had just spilled to him.

He rolls his eyes slightly in a joking manner, pulling you closer by the hand and mumbling, “come here,” before he firmly plants his lips on yours. FINALLY. You’re shocked at first, but instinctively kiss him back without second thoughts. In a familiar motion, he drags his hand from your hip to your hair while you place both of your hands on either side of his waist.

“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?” He teases as he pulls apart just enough to see your face.

“Mm-hm,” you nod your head and grin at him.

He leans in for another kiss, this time getting closer by wrapping his arms behind your neck. It’s deeper and more passionate than the first one, both of you moving your mouths in sync like it was choregraphed.

“Reggie!!!” the two other musicians shout from down the alleyway.

He tries to pull away, but his lips linger on yours for a few seconds longer.

“You better hurry if we wanna eat before the show!” Alex cups his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder.

Reggie looks at you and groans still with a little smile on his face. “I’ll see you after the show, okay?”

He kisses you again, short and sweet, and again, and again, having a hard time being able to separate himself from you. As he’s walking away, reaches out his hand so the last thing to touch is your fingertips.

“Good luck, boyfriend!” You shout to him as a joke as he starts making his way to Alex and Luke.

“Thanks, girlfriend!” He jokes back and blows you a kiss from the distance.

This moment would soon be the moment you replayed over and over in your head, thinking that reliving it would somehow make it so it never ended and Reggie never left.

You went the whole night thinking everything was alright, excitedly waiting for the band to get back to the studio for the after party they had planned there. Only, you had waited too long and started to get in your head about things. Did Reggie only act like that with you to get some pre-show lovin’ to hype him up before he performed? Maybe the band got invited to a bigger, fancier afterparty by the featured band they were opening for.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch waiting for them. You woke up to the noise of Bobby turning on the lights and finding you cuddled up with one of the flannels Reggie had left behind.

His face was blotchy, eyes red and puffy, and the tip of his nose was shiny.

“Bobby, what’s wrong?” you stood up and walked towards him.

He couldn’t even respond, he just shook his head and began to cry again.

“Where are the other three? Where’s Reggie?” The worst thoughts started to drown you, but you countered it by telling yourself you were just being irrational, they were probably fine, they probably just had a band fight.

“They were there before-” he sobs, “-and then there were sirens- and- and-” he’s unable to finish.

“Bobby,” you say in a panicked voice. “What happened? Where are they? Where’s Reggie?” your voice is shaky and cracked now that tears have built a wall on the surface of your eyes.

“They’re gone.” He barely chokes those two words.

You feel yourself take steps backward, losing control over your breathing while stumbling back onto the coffee table behind you. “No, no, no,” you deny. “You have to be lying,” the egg in your throat makes it near impossible to say.

Bobby says nothing, instead reaches in his back pocket and takes out the blush pink envelope. “This was in his jacket,” he hands it to you before having to turn around completely to hide his wet face.

On the last page, he’s added something in bright red sharpie:

“To the most beautiful girl in the world, I’m playing for you tonight, Y/N. Love, Reggie”

You break. It suddenly becomes real to you - he’s actually gone. Him, Luke, and Alex are really gone. You crash to your knees, audibly crying and almost screaming until Bobby helps you up and takes you into a much needed hug. You still let out vocal yelps and whimpers from deep in your chest.

You remember nothing else from that night, which is probably for the best since you don’t want to remember anything about it. Instead, you relive the memory of kissing him over and over. It’s almost like you knew that would be the last time you’d kiss him, so you tried to jam the lifetime of kisses you would’ve had into one.

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tangleweave · 3 years

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Crimson Tide (Drabble / RP)

[ @illbringthechaosmagic ]

An anonymous person has been taunting Stephen that a loved one has been taken captive...

Stephen Strange was not a patient man. He didn't like it when things came slowly, but he had learned how to deal with slow processes, as long as he could be assured of rewards down the line. Even less than slow progress did he like things that threw him off his rhythm. To be interrupted in his work was to invite his wrath, and by the Fates, could he be creative with his wrath.

That had been long before the car accident and the Sorcerer Supreme thing.

But now, the odd woman who had come to him to explain to him, in interestingly explicit terminology, that Wanda was being held prisoner... not only was she an interruption, she was an active irritant. An antagonist? No... not for him. To qualify as an antagonist, there were several things that needed to happen, not the least of which being a need to demonstrate a direct threat. So far she had shown him no evidence that she posed any harm whatsoever, and certainly not within the welcoming room for Kamar-Taj, where two other sorcerers stood at polite but firm attention in the corners.

She was seated in the wooden chair dead center of the room, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. Her dusky skin and wavy black hair shone in the sunlight that filtered through the ceiling slats. Her accent indicated she wasn't Nepalese, though she could easily be from India or some other adjacent region. She seemed curiously calm for someone in his presence who knew the things he was capable of.

Fine. If she wanted to play mind games, he could play them too. He moved to a cabinet and withdrew a pair of long yellow leather gloves, the cuffs of which were adorned with delicate sigils of black and gold. He had his back slightly turned as he began to don them.

"What now?" he heard her taunt. "Does the great Doctor Strange mean to get blood on his hands?"

He glanced towards her with eyebrow arched as he slid the second glove on. "Obviously not," he said, "otherwise I wouldn't be gloving up."

She thrust her chin out towards him. "You don't frighten me."

"Of course I do. I'm a doctor. Being attended by one is inherently frightening. It means there's something wrong with you. And there must be something deeply wrong with you, in particular, if you thought you were just going to waltz in here, declare that you're holding a friend and ally prisoner, and then not make any demands in exchange for her release." He held up his hands, palms towards himself. "Hadn't you heard? This is Kamar-Taj, where I had my operation to restore function to my hands. These are examination gloves. We don't have the kind of funds needed for single-use non-latex, so we go for longevity instead. After we're done with a particularly... messy... procedure, we use a sodium hydroxide solution to rinse off the pairs we do have. But don't worry, it shouldn't burn your skin too badly, long as I don't touch you for more than a couple seconds."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are a doctor. Your job is to not harm others."

"Oh, I see." He frowned and tilted his head at her. "Remind me again, what year is it? 2024? That means my medical license lapsed, uh... six years ago. Y'know, shortly after that niggling little part where half the world vanished. And saving all the people that were left over, that was an all-hands-on-deck situation. Things got ugly, if you'll recall. Besides, what do you call it when a surgeon cuts someone open with a scalpel? Surely you would think that was causing harm... but in the pursuit of reducing greater harm, when removing a tumor." He laced his fingers together tightly, securing the gloves about his hands. "Wonder how many you've got." He began slowly stepping towards her.

"There is nothing wrong with me!" she protested, and her legs uncrossed. "I wished to ensure I had your attention before making demands."

"Don't worry, you have it," Stephen assured her. "And you were right about one thing, this doctor doesn't make house calls. So glad to be hosting you today. You're my first patient in months. The last one still hasn't healed up quite right."

"I am no patient!" she said indignantly, shifting in her chair as he continued to advance.

"Then we have something in common, since I'm exactly the opposite of patient," he returned, and he cupped his hands toward each other. A crackling cat's cradle of golden dimensional energy appeared, and when he pulled his hands more broadly apart, it stretched with them. Orange sparks snapped from the strands. Stephen frowned. "Well, what do you know, there's still a little hydroxide solution on the gloves after all." He shrugged. "That's fine, it should all burn off pretty quickly."

She got to her feet. "Your Cauldron of the Cosmos!" she blurted. "It is a relic stolen from the pyramids of Giza--"

Stephen whipped one hand out; the strands of energy wrapped about the woman and sizzled as they touched her, eliciting a shriek. He closed to within inches from her face. "It's an artifact forged by Agamotto the All-Seeing approximately eight thousand years ago. I'd say try again but I don't think your clothes have that kind of time. Where's the submarine?"

A crease formed between the woman's thick eyebrows at the absurd question, but the heat and crackling from the energy whips surrounding her were beginning to convince her of the threat he posed. "I... I don't..."

"Sure, sure, you don't know." He dismissed the whips, then noted the burn scarring on her clothing. "Mmm. That'll be hard to get out. I might know a tailor or two." He gestured at the chair. "Take a seat or that pantsuit's going to look like it went through a king-size waffle iron. And I don't even want to think about what it'll do to your hair."

She glowered at him but did as directed. "What do you mean 'submarine'?" she asked.

"Well, if you don't know where it is, there's not a whole lot of reason for me to explain it to you, is there?" he responded. "Sure makes you look like a schlub, though. Obviously you're not in charge, you're just following directions from whoever it is giving them to you. Whoever they are, they need to up your clothing allowance, and update their K&R policies. It's in my favor, though, they couldn't send an actual professional to negotiate for the Cauldron. I could have given the all-American line... 'I don't negotiate with terrorists.' Definitely what a Sorcerer Supreme dreams of saying to someone." He waved a dismissive hand. "That's fine, though. I've got another movie line I can hand you. 'I've got ways of making you talk.' Impressed?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I am no amateur. I have been immunized to truth serums and measures intended to force me to speak truth against my will. Even you cannot coerce me."

He scoffed and gave her a mirthless smile. "Truth? Who said anything about that? I want you to lie your ass off."

She frowned. "What...?"

He brought both hands up, fingers twiddling unsteadily in odd snaking motions, and gleaming neon-blue energy appeared in the air between them. His hands didn't meet -- one wrist hovered above the fingers of the other -- but the energy they conjured twisted unevenly in a warbling circle that settled about the chair. The thick strands of plasma braided around one another, and once the circle was fully enclosed, the space within was consumed with fierce blue light.

"A sorcerer of Kamar-Taj would refer to this as a Ring of Raggadorr. But a Dungeons & Dragons player would call it a Zone of Truth... with a Strange twist to it. While you're within it, you can't refrain from answering my questions, but instead of wasting my time trying to figure out whether you can actually resist a Zone of Truth, I've sealed you within a Zone of Lies. You're completely incapable of uttering the truth. And when I ask you questions, whatever the truthful answer is, you'll be giving me precisely the opposite one, or as close to the opposite as you're able." He flourished with one hand. "So, test question, do you know my name?"

"...no." The woman looked flummoxed at the answer coming from her own mouth.

Stephen smirked. "All right then, progress. Now, you're in charge of this operation, aren't you?"

"...yes."

"Where on the ladder are you?"

"The top."

Stephen chuckled. "Oh, honey. They really don't pay you enough for this gig, do they?"

"I am paid extremely generously."

"Yeah, that much is obvious."

She stood up from her chair and tried to take a step forward. The blue light surrounding her crackled much in the manner of a Star Trek forcefield, and she jumped back as if having been shocked. She cast a look at Stephen. "I wish to remain in this space eternally!"

Now Stephen had to raise a gloved hand to hide his widening smirk. "I'm considering it," he quipped. "This is a lot more fun than I imagined."

"I am also enjoying it immensely!" she shouted.

He poked a finger at her. "Try saying it with a sarcastic bend to it, if you can, I wanna see how deep this spell goes. Does it affect just your words? You're yelling so I can tell you're agitated, at least."

"I am not agitated! I am free to walk out of this enclosure at any time and I do not fear your powers!" She crossed her arms under her chest and glowered at the floor.

"Well, if this isn't a reflection of parenthood, I don't know what is," Stephen remarked. "But while this is entertaining, I have some actual work to do. So let's talk submarines. Your bosses work out of one, don't they?"

"...no."

"I see. And if I looked all over the world for it, there's only one place I would never find it. Where is that place?"

"...the Laurentian Abyss."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Are you telling me that I can find the submarine in the Laurentian Abyss?"

"No, that is not what I am telling you."

Stephen had to try very hard not to crack a smile. "How very Red October of you. I think the Cauldron of the Cosmos can probably help me along from here... though I'm curious why you would even want it at all. Is there anybody among your employers and co-workers in this little venture that could even use it?"

"To the best of my knowledge, everyone there could. The Cauldron is of no particular fascination or consequence to my employers. They are not at all fascinated by its purported abilities. They would prefer to have Wanda, as a person is far more stable a commodity than an inanimate object. Should you refuse to surrender the Cauldron, my employers are not prepared to brainwash her for their purposes."

He scoffed. "Thought so. You know, you actually make it a lot more convincing now that you can't even say it properly. Should've tried it like this before, you'd have gotten my attention even sooner. Tell you what, you can hang out here while I get this problem sorted out." He turned toward the east hall, which would eventually lead him to the portal door that connected to the New York Sanctum.

"Wait!"

He turned back to her with his eyebrow up again. "Yes, what?"

"I do not wish to know how you knew of the submarine."

This time both eyebrows went up and he rubbed his temple. "Vishanti help me, I'm actually starting to get used to this," he muttered. Then he looked at her more directly. "It's not what you lied about, it's what you told me truthfully. You said straitjacket and shock collar. That's how Wanda was kept secured when she was a prisoner aboard the Raft. The only people who would know that was a successful method are people who saw it in action. But the Raft is stationary. Eventually someone would come knocking. The only way to keep a prisoner like her off the radar is to keep her moving. And aboard an underwater craft, even if she breaks loose, where would she go? Especially as far down as the Laurentian Abyss. So... submarine made the most sense."

The crease in her brow only deepened further. "I understand completely how you were able to make such deductions."

"Yeah, sometimes I even amaze myself." He glanced to the other two sorcerers in the room, then gestured at the woman. "Make her comfortable while she's waiting. But you're welcome to have a little fun with that spell while it's still active."

Without another word, he stalked his way up the hall and found the entrance to the New York Sanctum. A variety of obstacles to the matter at hand pervaded his thought process. If the submarine was indeed in the Laurentian Abyss, it meant that it was so deep, opening a direct portal to its interior would be a death sentence to anyone aboard; the bends would see to that. It needed to be forced to surface, and its own crew made to decompress the interior. He chewed his lower lip in thought. How would he get them to do that?

He was five steps away from the Cauldron when he stopped in place and rolled his eyes. Duh. He'd seen the damn movie. Simulate a radiation leak. It's not as if he was a Master of the Mystic Arts and claimed control over a vast breadth of energies.

"Thank you, Tom Clancy," he murmured as he approached the artifact.

#illbringthechaosmagic #muse: strange

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felidaefighter · 3 years

Text

Fears To Ease And Flesh To Mend

Ranboo and Tubbo find out that unzombifying a piglin is a bit different from unzombifying a villager, and they start off parenthood with quite a few complications and in a little over their heads. For the sake of their child, they may need to put awkwardness aside and ask for help.

[Sick fic, canon divergence, Phil and Techno meet Michael, lots and lots of piglin lore headcanons] ~20,000 words per chapter

Chapter Three of Four

Ranboo knocked lightly on the door, and Tubbo opened it almost immediately, greeting him with a giant yawn. “Hi, Tubbo,” Ranboo said fondly. “Hi, Ranboo,” Tubbo replied through his yawn. Phil cleared his throat awkwardly from behind him. “Uh, hello, Tubbo. We haven’t… spoken in a while. Techno is here too.” Tubbo stared dead-eyed exhausted at him from inside, still holding the door open. “Yeah, been a while. Don’t think we’ve talked since you blew up L’Manberg.” Phil and Techno both made awkward grimacing noises, as Ranboo did the same. Tubbo rolled his eyes. “I’m letting all the cold air in. Might as well come inside. Michael’s room is upstairs.”

As the three of them stepped in from the chill and shook off the frost from their coats and the snow from their boots, Ranboo looked at Tubbo, concerned. “You don’t look like you slept.” Tubbo shook his head. “Not really. I dozed off a few times in the armchair upstairs but I was too worried.” Ranboo nodded empathetically. He would’ve done the same. “Up the ladder,” Tubbo said, gesturing, clearly too tired for proper emphasis. Ooh boy. Looks like Ranboo was going to have to do most of the talking. Which was an issue, as Ranboo wasn’t too good at that.

Ranboo was the second up the ladder, and could feel himself grow soft as soon as he laid eyes on his son. He greeted the little piglin, who, although still clearly not feeling great, acknowledged him in return. Phil, then Techno, stepped into the room, Phil treading ever-so-lightly with both his feet and his demeanor. Phil let out a sharp inhale and a wince when he saw Michael. “Ooohh. That’s a lot of bandages.” He inspected the situation as well as he could from across the room. “You did a good job of wrapping it. We’re gonna have to unwrap them all to make sure it’s been properly cleaned though unfortunately.” Tubbo swore under his breath at that, but he didn’t mean it harshly. It’d just taken them a long time to wrap.

“Quite a lot of battle scars,” Techno remarked. If Ranboo was honest, their cautiousness wasn’t easing his worries as well as he’d have hoped it would. He moved subconsciously to Tubbo’s side; they were both feeling a little under scrutiny when faced with Phil and Techno, experts at this, and the worry they’d done something wrong. “May I?” Phil gestured to Michael as Techno leaned against a wall, and Tubbo nodded, Ranboo humming his approval. He stepped closer to the little piglin and crouched down beside the bed. Michael snorted at him. “Heyyy Michael,” Phil said softly, “I’m Philza. I’m gonna take off your bandages to look at your wounds now, okay?”

“I dunno why you’re tellin’ him in english. He probably only knows piglin right now,” Techno said, grinning when that earned him a harsh shush from Phil. “No comments from the peanut gallery unless you’re gonna help!” Phil very, very carefully unwrapped the bandage on Michael’s head, who was either too tired or too polite to try and stop him. He held a steadying hand on the other side of Michael’s head while he looked at the eyesocket, the edges of his flesh, and the place his ear used to be. Phil turned to Tubbo and Ranboo, who immediately squeezed eachother’s hands a bit nervously. Huh. Ranboo supposed they must’ve done that subconsciously. Definitely blaming the nerves for that one.

“You two did a pretty good job. He’s responsive and seems to have a general idea of where he is. I can’t say yet if there’s any internal damage, but he’s definitely been properly cured. I doubt there’s much you could’ve done to change the extent of his sores, too.” Ranboo and Tubo both exhaled in very obvious relief. Phil stood up with a bit of a stretching noise, and shot a pointed look at Techno. “You wanna make sure everything’s alright, mate?” Techno, very alarmed at having been put in the spotlight despite the audience in question being two socially awkward and exhausted teens, his best friend, and a half-dead toddler, immediately started to protest.

“You can’t test his cognitive skills without knowing where his language is at,” Phil prodded, teasing, “And you know my piglish sucks.” Techno hummed in thought, a little persuaded by the chance to brag/show off. “That is true.” Still, he seemed hesitant. “It’s ah-- it’s gonna be a little awkward since I’m not too great with kids and it’s been a while since I spoke piglish. Does this have to have an audience?”

“Yes.” Tubbo answered flatly. “Tubbo!” Chided Phil, but Ranboo didn’t exactly blame his husband. “I mean… you wouldn’t do anything to Michael, right?” Ranboo asked Techno, who looked rather offended at the question. “Of course not! Who do you take me for? I mean, Michael clearly isn’t an orphan anymore,” Techno joked to try to ease the tension, but while Ranboo nodded in acknowledgement and in an attempt at reassurance towards Tubbo, Tubbo narrowed his eyes. “Fine. But I’ve got my eye on you. You so much as move the wrong way and you’re going down.”

Phil muttered reassurances about Techno’s intentions at Tubbo while he gently placed his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders, leading him away and down the ladder. Ranboo sent one last, concerned glance towards Techno. “I won’t do anything,” Techno promised, “Except maybe ask him how he feels about government. But I doubt he’s gonna know what that is yet.” Ranboo nodded again and went down the ladder after Phil and Tubbo.

Tubbo, as exhausted as he was, leaned on the wall by the ladder looking prepared to gain a second wind and scramble upstairs in a hurry if necessary. Ranboo was almost certain it wouldn’t be, but he felt a surge of love on seeing how dedicated and protective his husband could be. Phil hovered in the main area, not quite finding a seat, and spoke to the two more in-depth about Michael’s recovery.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t the kind of thing that’s gonna heal overnight. Like I said before, he’s already been kinda oversaturated with magic just from his origin, so potions aren’t gonna seal up everything all nice and tidy.” Phil paced lightly while he spoke out of lack of something to fiddle with. Tubbo’s eyes watched him like a hawk, but his ears were most certainly more centered on making sure there was no commotion upstairs.

“The biggest concern is gonna be the parts of his skull that’re currently exposed,” Phil continued. “Keepin’ ‘em bandaged should be mostly fine, but you should disinfect it about three times daily with room temperature cloth. Not washed or anything, just pat him down. You’ll want to put a salve on there and the skin around the edge, too, so that when it heals the skin can grow back over. It’ll be scar tissue but it’ll keep him from coming down with anything. That’ll be best for the long run.” Ranboo scrambled to write all of what Phil was saying down, eager for the information.

“Question, okay, uh, is there a certain type of each thing that we’ll need? And if so, where do I get it, or can I borrow it from you?” Phil chuckled lightly, and combined with the non-judgemental onslaught of information, both Ranboo and Tubbo both were starting to relax. “Of course you can mate,” Phil replied fondly, “You need it more than I do right now. I can go on an errand run for you both after Techno’s done here.” He turned sympathetically to Tubbo at that. “You look like you could use some rest.”

Tubbo sighed, finally letting his guard down a little. “Honestly, I probably would’ve been asleep ages ago if I weren’t so damn worried about Michael. I reckon I could’ve fell asleep standing up a few times and wouldn’t’ve known.” Ranboo nodded in understanding. The only reason he hadn’t been stopped from sleeping is because he tended to run on anxiety almost all of the time anyways. It looked like he was going to be spending most of his time in the coming weeks running back and forth between his own house and Snowchester; he didn’t mind, though.

“Thank you, Phil. Honestly, thank you.” Ranboo paused before asking the one thing that had mainly been on his mind. “I’m just surprised that you and Techno aren’t--” Phil interrupted abruptly. “The health and safety of a child will always come first.” After realizing his tone was a little harsh, he sighed and continued more carefully. “Techno and I feel how we feel. We haven’t really had a chance to process anything yet. Give us a bit to do that first yeah?”

Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. That makes sense, actually. Of course.” Tubbo, having figured out what that was all about, spoke up. “I was wondering about that!” A second wave of realization hit him and he turned to Ranboo. “Wait, you told them???” He hissed in a lowered voice. “My son lives at your house! I think they woulda figured it out!” Ranboo replied in the same tone. “Our son!” Tubbo corrected, half-offended. In the background, Phil was covering his mouth, stifling a chuckle at the bickering couple.

They were interrupted when heavy footsteps came down the ladder, and instantly parted to make way for the large piglin. Techno turned to Ranboo. “He’s a toddler, so like, his words? Ain’t really that great to begin with. But uh cognitively I think he’s doin’ fine. He can understand and respond to most questions at least, even if his responses tend to be ninety percent gibberish. At any rate it probably won’t be tough to teach him english. Toddlers man. They’re fast learners.” It was very obvious the only thing stopping him from making a joke about drop-kicking toddlers was Tubbo’s death glare and how awkward he already felt about the whole business.

Phil clapped his hands together. “Right! Well, Techno and I are gonna head back home, and I’ll run that delivery for you. Remember what I said about re-wrapping and applying the ointments and salve and stuff. Don’t worry too much about his ear canal yet, I’ll get some drops, and make sure he’s eating slowly and steadily throughout the day as opposed to regular mealtimes. I’ll be back later. You two have got this for now, yeah?”

Ranboo and Tubbo, rather startled at the abruptness of it all, hummed and muttered agreements and nodded while Ranboo double-checked he’d written that all down. “Goodbye Tubbo. Ranboo,” Techno said, following Phil out the door. As it shut behind them, Ranboo turned to the smaller man. “Should we follow them out?” Tubbo had almost immediately closed his eyes and went back to resting against the ladder. “I want to,” he said, and Ranboo understood. Knowing Tubbo’s house as well as his own, he retrieved a bedroll, blanket, and pillow from a chest, hauling them up to Michael’s room, and then went downstairs and retrieved his husband.

He kind of just dropped Tubbo on the pile, who stayed exactly where he’d landed. “Sleep,” Ranboo intoned, and Tubbo groaned in response. He was asleep almost moments later. Ranboo sighed fondly, and glanced at Michael. The little piglin was asleep as well. He paused. There was a serenity in the moment, his own little family all worn out from a day of healing. As silently as possible, he pulled the blankets over them both, then settled into the armchair to watch over them.

#michael dreamsmp #ranboo #tubbo #philza #technoblade #mcyt fanfic #they write #t #p #r #family bee

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cant-blink · 3 years

Text

Half-Life, Ch. 3

Summary: Gigan takes Ghidorah on their first “date” to the bar. We learn a few things about this three-headed dragon.

Normally, the flight from a planet into the void of space was the most satisfying part of his mission.

The thought of the carnage he left behind, a planet burning beneath him and rendered completely uninhabitable. The complete extermination of life, the knowledge that it was all from his own hard work. He adored the strength of his wings fighting the gravitational pull, the feeling of the air thinning, and at last, the weightlessness of space.

The sight of the stars all around, promising more worlds for him to destroy. So many lives to toy with.

The wave of cosmic energy that would hit his scales, rejuvenating him. Feeding off the energy through the membrane of his wings, healing his wounds and restoring his strength for the journey ahead. Under normal circumstances, he would then cocoon himself within an asteroid produced by his own body, reducing himself to a pure energy form. Content and happy, he would fall into dormancy, his asteroid drawn towards planets one after another until his moon-shaped crests would pick up signs of life to awaken him once more.

But this was not normal circumstances and as he flies higher through this world’s atmosphere, the only thing that coursed through him was not satisfaction, but anger, hatred, frustration...

And dread...

Breaking free of the planet’s hold, Ghidorah felt the cosmic waves flowing over him, speeding his regeneration to be almost instantaneous. The pain coursing through his back with every stroke of his wings had disappeared.

The pain in his middle head, however, remained. The injury there has healed, but the newly-active chip gave a very uncomfortable sensation. He wanted to chew at the spot, scratch at it with a foot, but he knew it was useless. Even if he could will his body to perform the action, chewing and clawing it out would only result in his own death.

Granted, death would probably be preferable to what fate the half-life had in store for him.

He kept glancing back towards the planet. He wasn’t used to leaving a world only half-destroyed. It went against every fiber of his being and his impulses fought against the mind-control in vain. Always in vain.

His glare fastened on the cyborg, and the light from the blue giant star that reflected off the metal armor was almost blinding. It was obnoxious, as was the look of expectation given to him. He wanted to just fly off in the opposite direction, just to spite him, but of course, he couldn’t. Absolutely infuriating, being trapped in a body that was no longer his to control.

At the silent order, Ghidorah felt his wings fold close and his tails moving to curl around himself. All three of his heads lowered, his legs tucked in and wings wrapping around himself. Red wisps like flames came from his scales, until it engulfed him and his body became energy. Stone began forming around him, its minerals perfect for holding his vast energy and absorbing in more cosmic rays to ensure he did not weaken during his hibernation.

At least in said hibernation, he can forget...

“Your name is Ghidorah. You were created to be ultimate weapon.”

Those telepathic words have been imprinted in his mind for as long as he could remember. Repeated over and over, his Masters would put these thoughts into his mind, to the point where it provided some level of comfort to the young dragon.

And at this stage of his development, comfort was very important.

There was darkness around him, even in a well-lit sterile room beyond the membrane that held him. His eyelids were still sealed, having not yet opened to experience the light he would instinctively seek out as an adult. His ears were still closed, and his scales were soft. Occasionally, one of his tongues would flick out, but the only scent he would pick out was his own, in the nourishing goo around him.

His only real sense was that of his well-developed crests. He could feel irresistible auras, all around him. Every so often, several of these auras would get closer, more potent, so close that his three jaws would snap open through instinct. Muscles in his chest would tighten, but the organs housing his gravity beams has not yet fully matured and held no energy within.

He would calm when the auras faded back into the noise. He still desired them, though, and every time he woke from his sleep, he would test the boundaries of his egg, kicking at the membrane uselessly. But the day will come closer, when he will be ready to emerge. Then he can snuff out those auras, and it would be amazing.

"The Universe is a terrifying place,” the message would continue. “You will make it safer, for all of us."

Safer.

He felt pretty safe now, growing steadily within his warm confines. He had never experienced fear, or pain, and it would take several more weeks before he had his first taste of it...

He had grown substantially, easily twice the size he once was just weeks ago. His wings were growing the fastest, wrapped tight around him like an extra blanket within the membrane. Said membrane was expanding, stretching over his scales. Those scales were more developed, a distinct keeled look to each one. His eyes were open, sleepy and unfocused, but he saw the light.

He wanted that light...

Especially when he felt the aura growing stronger. His red eyes can make out movement, a blurred shadow looming by him. The impulse to lash out at it was powerful, and already two of his three jaws had opened. By now, only sparks escaped and deteriorates into the goo.

“The Universe is a terrifying place,” the message replayed again, but this time, it added more. “It’s filled with violent races that seek to destroy those who only wish to live in peace. You will be the savior that fights for those innocents, that cleanses the universe of those dark forces. But first...”

He felt something odd, brushing against the mane of his middle head. The first time a foreign object touches him. It lacked an aura, but nonetheless, his left head automatically moved to bite the thing with tiny fangs, an-

A stabbing pain came from the back of his middle head. His legs kicked out, the membrane stretching from the movement, but not yet giving out. His wings and tails push against his home, his prison, as he tried to escape the pain.

The sharpness left just as quickly as it had appeared, but it left the pain behind, as well as a very wrong feeling. Like something foreign on his body. IN his body.

“You will hold great power and to focus that power, we have given you a gift...”

Ghidorah snapped awake even before the half-life gave the signal that they have arrived. It was not often he had dreams like that, reliving such old memories. It honestly pissed him off.

A gift, that’s what his old Masters called it. Even back then, he knew that was completely false. By ‘focus’, they meant kept under THEIR control. This damn chip and all the trouble it caused has plagued him even before he hatched! If he had lungs and the concept of sighing, he would have done so at this moment. Seems even in hibernation, he cannot be left in peace.

It takes a moment before he was calm enough to notice the presence of lifeforms, many more besides the cyborg that held him hostage. He felt the vibration of his stone cocoon, hears the muffled voice of the half-life calling out to him.

Wait, hear him? That means there has to be an atmosphere. He didn’t feel the impact of striking a planet or another celestial body.

“Wake up!” the half-life continued, still banging against the asteroid for no reason other than to annoy him, he’s sure.

Ugh, just hearing that stupid voice made him wanna go back into hibernation, much less the damn incessant knocking. But alas, he felt his own energy escape the stone, rendering it to dust before he took form. He opened his eyes, and his sight was immediately assaulted with pink. A vivid purple-pink everywhere.

Where was he?

He looked around, the haze stretching in all directions with no sign of an end. All six of his eyes swept the area before all meeting right at the cyborg.

"The bar is over there," The half-life told him, pointing a claw towards a nearby asteroid. "Clean yourself up. I want you looking your best. Y’know, before I ruin you."

Ghidorah lets out a growl at those words, and that growl gets even louder as he automatically moved to groom himself. He always took pride in his appearance, as a dragon should. But as much as he enjoyed grooming, the fact he wasn’t doing it because he wanted to took away all enjoyment.

It isn’t made better by how the half-life was watching him. Damn thing enjoying the show? He wanted to gravity beam that face. Especially when he starts flying closer. Ghidorah felt himself go on edge, wanting to move away to keep the distance, but his body refused to stop cleaning itself.

Unfortunately, it was the half-life himself that stopped the grooming session, one of his claws once more hooking around the back of his middle head and pulling him down.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” came the retort. “Especially with any of your damn back-talk.”

Ghidorah narrowed his eyes, especially when the crest on his forehead was touched by the half-life’s other claw. His crest was glowing quite strongly, as it tended to do when a high concentration of life-energy was nearby. They were quite sensitive and he did not like the sensation of anyone touching them, much less this disgrace of a kaiju.

He nonetheless held still as the half-life examined his crests for whatever reason before he caught a whisper.

“You feel them, don’t you? This is what you mean with your crests ‘filtering’ my presence. They never glowed this brightly for me.” The half-life’s voice had a very odd edge to it. It almost sounded like this fool was...

Was he jealous?! That didn’t make sense to the dragon. Why in the void would he be jealous over something like this? He can’t control how brightly his crests glowed; it all depended on the size and number of the lifeforms in the area! It’s not his fault this idiot had his aura tainted so badly and was hardly considered alive! But Ghidorah didn’t respond with these sharp words no matter how much he wanted to, the chip rendering his tongue frozen. All he can do is hide a wince when the claw tapped against the moon-shaped structure.

He heard a grunt before the cyborg continued in a cold tone, despite the foul smirk on his beak. “Remember when I said we can kill a few folks here? I lied. For once, you’re going to have some damn self-control and not kill any of them. Got it?”

There was a slight widening of his eyes. Never before has he been given an order that so blatantly went against what he was created for. His old Masters, every other alien race that took advantage of him, wanted him to kill. Sure, they wanted specific targets killed, but killed nonetheless. But this... IDIOT decides he was going to waste his time, waste his talents, for... WHATEVER it was that one did at these ‘bars’. He was convinced the cyborg was only doing this to irritate him further, and it was working! If he wasn’t pissed off before, he definitely was now!

“Yes.” That word still escaped him, monotone and lacking any of the anger fuming within his mind. And it only gets worse when it rouses a snicker from the half-life and he felt that metal-coated beak touch the scales of his snout. The left mandible seemed to caress under his jaw, the cyborg moving it side-to-side against his skin. He wanted to pull away, willed every fiber of his body to get him away, but he can’t move.

“You missed a spot.”

What was that supposed to me-

He froze when he felt something wet and warm slide against the scales of his face. His right head could see the half-life running his tongue along his snout and lips. He had no idea what to do with this, as nobody has ever made such moves towards him before. He didn’t like it, at all! He wanted to bite, to blast the half-life in the face, push him away with his heads. ANYTHING!!

But he can’t do anything, except endure.

He closed his eyes, all six of his eyes, just counting the seconds for this to be over. He felt the creature’s tongue push into his mouth, and the urge to bite down and tear it off was through the roof! It was so damn frustrating, and the seconds crawled slower in his mind before finally, the half-life pulled away.

“Hm,” he heard from the cyborg, his middle-set of eyes opening to see the face just inches from his own. The glare he gave was intense, but the other kaiju doesn’t seem bothered. If anything, the half-life seemed encouraged to rest his beak on his nose as he chuckled. “We’ll work on it~.”

Ghidorah didn’t want to work on anything except this thing’s death. How DARE this inferior creature pulled such a stunt with him, and to think, it was only going to go downhill from here! Swear, for every second he had to wait during that, he was going to make the cyborg suffer ten times longer when he breaks free from this! But he couldn’t speak any of the thoughts going through his mind. Damn this chip, taking away everything including his voice!

He felt the claw holding his head down slide off, the edge teasing the fur of his mane before the creature turned away.

“Let’s go.”

He flew towards the asteroid he pointed out the bar being on. Ghidorah lingered where he was for a moment, but alas, his wings gave a flap through the atmosphere and followed after him.

“Hey, McLegsalot!”

“Don’t call me that,” came the retort as Gigan sat down and made himself comfortable. A winged centipede-like kaiju squinted ten beady eyes at the cyborg, his antennae brushing over his face and chest. The four pairs of arms cleaning the glasses slow to a halt. “Gigan?”

“Scolopendra. Long time, no see. Loving my new look?”

“This is what you’re doing to undo your ban? Slap on a new paintjob and pretend you’re someone else?”

“Nah, if I was going to do that, I’d put on chainsaws instead of these,” Gigan responded, lifting the blades on his arms. “Less obvious that way. Anyway, what’s a little ban between friends, huh? Mind giving me the usual?”

“I’m not giving you anything. I-” The centipede cuts himself off, glancing off to the side before muttering. “Look, man, I ain’t losing my job over this. Last time you were here, we had to rebuild everything from the ground up thanks to your little drunken tirades. Like hell, we’re doing all that again.”

Gigan waved a claw dismissively. “Don’t worry your pretty little antennas over it-”

“It’s antennae, you dumb fuck.”

“-I’m not here to make a mess. I just want a nice, quiet time. Honest. So-”

“HA!”

“-Soooo,” Gigan drawled, refusing to back down from this little game. “Why don’t you just give me a drink and we can carry on the night like usual.”

“What part of ‘you’re banned from this establishment’ do you not understand? Hell, if Mr. Mavex finds you here-”

“And I told you, not to worry about it. Your boss won’t even have time to think about you, much less fire you.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how this works.”

“It will, trust me. Y’see, I brought along a date an-”

“Oh, for fuck sake, Gigan,” the centipede interrupted, shaking his head as the cyborg glanced over his shoulder and gave a loud shrill whistling noise. “How many times do I have to say this, I’m not going to...”

The centipede’s voice trailed off, as all the patrons within a ten-mile radius suddenly went quiet. A very large three-headed silhouette loomed at the entrance towering above all other customers, long serpentine necks lowering as Ghidorah entered the doorway. Gigan found the silence to be amazing, and he gave a smirk as the many-legged kaiju reared up to eye-level with his four clear wings fanned out. Typical defensive stance, never gets old seeing it.

“I’d like you to meet Ghidorah,” he started in a smug tone. “King Ghidorah. I’m sure you’ve heard of him, yes?”

At once, everyone made a hurry to vacate the vicinity, as Scolopendra glared at the cyborg. “You led that thing right to us! Are you insane?!” Gigan knew he didn’t have to answer that, but he does anyway with a cheeky little grin.

“Only a little.”

He glanced back at Ghidorah, whose six eyes were locked on the smaller creatures fleeing from him. He can see the spark of bloodlust in those eyes, the familiar instincts to give chase and end them all. But as expected, the dragon could do no such thing. At least-

“Now, about that ban...” Gigan continued casually, as everything ran amok behind him. “I told him not to do any harm to anyone, but if you really insist on denying me drinks...” He reveled in the angry look the bartender gave to him and he settled his blades on the bar, propping himself up a bit as he leaned closer. “I’ll take the usual, yeah? For two.”

Those eyes stay locked on him for a long moment before Scolopendra finally backed off and went to prepare his drinks. That’s more he liked it and he leaned back on his seat. “Glad you can listen to reason, Legs. I’m sure your boss will too.” He heard a nasty grumble from the bug but he disregards it as his eye returns to his golden prize, who was now staring at the bartender intensely.

“Hey,” he called out, earning the dragon’s attention. He nodded towards the chair beside him. Ghidorah glanced towards it and wandered over. It was adorably awkward, watching the dragon attempt to sit on a chair that was too small for him. Gigan couldn’t keep in a chuckle. “Lean on me~”

It still delighted him, that Ghidorah could do nothing to resist his orders. He felt the hydra press up against his side, those scales felt cold compared to their surroundings, but the cyborg didn’t mind. He nuzzled his beak against that golden hide, his mandibles nipping playfully before the bartender returned with his order.

“Good man,” Gigan snickered, his tail moving to clasp onto the glass. He caught Scolopendra eyeing at the dragon as he placed the glass down in front of him, and he was quick to show off his prize. “Told you I had a date.”

“A date?” Scolopendra responded skeptically. “Or another one of your meatshields?”

“Hey, hey, no need to be like that.” Gigan gave a chuckle as he took a sip of his drink. Ah, still tasted the same as he remembered. He took a bigger gulp. “And what do you mean, ANOTHER meatshield? Don’t act like you don’t miss those old days. All the plundering and pilfering, great times.” Another gulp. “Not my fault you got yourself trapped in here.”

“Pretty sure it was,” the centipede grumbled. “When you threw me under the bus while you ran away like a coward.”

“Like a pirate~.”

“Like a coward.”

“Meh, don’t take it so personal, Legs. I was going to come back for you, but you were already gone and now...” Another swig. “Who am I to tell you this ‘honest’ life is boring? After all, you're giving me free drinks.”

“This piece of work...” Scolopendra hissed with another shake of his head, before looking to Ghidorah. “And you’re dating this? What do you even see in him?”

The cyborg gave a short, sharp laugh as he brought his glass back up to his beak for another go, intending to respond for his partner when-

“No, I’m not ‘dating’ him.” Gigan heard Ghidorah growl softly and he sputtered mid-gulp. But the dragon doesn’t stop, maintaining direct eye-contact with him with all six eyes. “The half-life coward did the same to me, tried to abandon me in a fight. Watching Godzilla blast him out of the sky was the single most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen.”

Moment of silence, as Gigan glared towards his slave harshly. Didn’t he tell this asshole not to speak unless spoken t-

Dammit, Scolopendra spoke to him and now this bastard was taking every advantage of it to ruin everything! Well, two can play at that game. Glancing at the centipede, who was now giving him a Look, he pushed the drink closer to his partner.

“Heh, stop kidding around, babe. Tell the bug you’re joking.”

The smirk returned to Gigan’s face as Ghidorah did as told immediately. “You’re joking.” AND that smirk died just as quickly as it appeared.

Oh, this smartass mother-fuckin’ piece of-

Without warning, he struck a blade across the chest of the dragon, who jolts back and loses balance from his chair. The ground trembled from the impact as he fell, and Gigan gave his partner no time to recover as he stomped a foot onto the gash he left. This earned a pained snarl from the dragon, but Ghidorah does nothing to retaliate as the cyborg once more hooked a claw around that middle head, leaning in to hiss directly into this asshole’s ear.

“How about this: You don’t speak, at all, unless I directly address you. Now shut up, and drink your damn glass.”

They continued to lock glares for a moment, before Gigan lets him go and sits back on his seat. Ghidorah took a moment to get up, blood seeping from the wound but he does nothing to tend to himself. He instead looked at the drink, glanced at Gigan’s glass, then back to his own. The middle head leaned down and a forked tongue slips out his mouth and barely brushes the surface of the drink.

“Well?” Gigan persisted impatiently. “I said, drink.”

The dragon growled but said nothing as he began lapping up the drink. And no sooner had he done that, that he began gagging and what liquid he managed to swallow came right back up, seeping from the corners of his mouth. He opened said mouth and allowed it to spill its contents onto the bar.

“Oh, what the hell!?” Scolopendra barked, jumping back as the puddle sparked for a moment before petering out. The multi-legged kaiju shot a glare at the cyborg. “You said no messes!”

“Oh, ho~!!” Gigan chortled, ignoring the bug. “Didn’t take you to be THAT much of a lightweight! Or does it really taste that bad?” He shot Scolopendra a teasing look, but the centipede was having no more of his shenanigans, leaving the mess with them as he resumed cleaning glasses on the OTHER end of the bar. Meh, whatever, Gigan had better entertainment next to him. “Drink the whole thing, babe. It gets better as you go.”

His tail clasped Ghidorah’s glass, holding it to the dragon’s lips. Of course, Ghidorah couldn’t refuse and opened his mouth to receive the drink. And no sooner did it go down his throat than his stomach gave another heave to expel it. Well then...

“Seriously, it can’t be that bad,” Gigan grunted, glancing at the glass. He was a little bit annoyed that his new partner was having this reaction to his favorite drink. “Is the taste too strong for you?”

Ghidorah glared at him with venom before responding in that beautiful monotoned voice. “I taste nothing.”

...

Gigan would blink his eye if he could; he wasn’t sure what answer he was expecting to hear, but that certainly wasn’t it. Was this dragon serious? Who’s he kidding, of course this dragon was serious! He really can’t taste anything? Then why was he spitting it all out? Can he not drink alcohol? Did the hydra’s body take it as a toxin and thus something to be rid of? Time to find out...

“Hey, Scoli!”

“Clean it up yourself.”

“Not that, you idiot. I need you to give a glass of water. Just. Water.”

The centipede doesn’t even turn to look at him, continuing to clean before placing one of those glasses down and filling it with ice water before sliding it over to the cyborg. Gigan stopped it with a blade before pushing it pointedly towards the dragon.

“How about this one?”

“I said, I taste nothing.”

“Don’t care. You’re still going to drink this.”

Ghidorah sneered at him as he turned to the water. This time, he took it with one of his jaws, teeth closed over the glass delicately yet firmly. It looked a bit awkward to the cyborg, but he imagined the hydra didn’t have many situations where he would need to manipulate objects. Ghidorah took a sizeable gulp from it, and just as the alcohol had done previously, so too did this water. The dragon heaved and out it all came, all over the floor with more sparks.

Gigan watched this for a moment, less than amused. So the dragon can’t consume ANYTHING at all; did his creators not see a purpose in it? Well, isn’t that just great! Ghidorah really was being a pain in the ass right now, wasn’t he? All he wanted was a night of fun with his future mate, show him off, get them both plastered before the main event. But of course that can’t happen, can it? The dragon just had to make fools out of both of them. He lets out a huff, forcing a crooked smile onto his beak. He will have his fun, Ghidorah be fucked.

“Fine, more for me. Keep ‘em coming, Legs! We’re gonna be here a while.”

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #gigan #godzilla #gigadorah #mah random thought of space booze returns!!#also my joke kaiju is now real #gigan is a space pirate :3 #ghidorah is not having fun right now #it'll only go downhill from here

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

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25 | (JATP) Alex & twin!sister!Nancy

✏️ Pairing (sorta, but not really): Alex & twin!sister!Nancy

✏️ Summary: It’s been twenty-five years, but Nance is still mourning the deaths of her brother and her friends. Life hasn’t exactly been going in the right direction since 1995 — it never has, though, ever since she has memory — but little does she know her daughter Sarah is about to find out that Uncle Alex and Sunset Curve are back as ghosts and playing with an old school friend. (Not requested)

✏️ A/N: Many thanks to @themazeskies for introducing me to this fandom ✌🏻 this story def wouldn’t be here without you. (Thank you for feeding my need for angst!) To the rest of y’all: enjoy! Angie and I sort of created a little universe of events and stuff with these characters, so if you wanna read more, just let me know. 🥰

✏️ Warnings: sad/angst (but also fluff? if you squint?); mentions of death (but that’s the show?); slight hint to a past use of drugs.

✏️ Notes: flashbacks in italics; lyrics in bold and italics.

✏️ Word Count: 6,472

It happens suddenly. One day she’s… normal, one would say — doing her things, carrying on with her life, helping her daughter prepare her things to leave home as soon as high school ends — and the next she’s whole again.

She hasn’t felt that kind of whole in twenty-five years.

Alex used to call it their twin link, back in the day, when putting up with their parents and their falling-out marriage seemed to be the worst thing they had to endure. Lex…

There’s a treacherous tear running down her cheek and when her brain registers it, it’s almost too late. She feels it on her jaw, threatening to fall down onto the test she’s grading. Her mind almost anticipates what’s about to happen — the tear will dangle from her jaw for a moment, and then it’ll eventually land onto one of the words one of her students wrote, and it will stain it. But her hand is quicker, and it wipes that tear away before it’s too late.

Twenty-five years.

Her throat knots up with the tears she has been trying so hard not to shed. The anniversary of his death is coming up quickly, and with a son off at college and a toxic ex-husband still fighting to spill money out of her, she feels the loneliness and the weight of it all even more. It’s in her limbs when she wakes up, and it stays perched on her shoulders throughout the day, until it’s finally time to go to bed. And to start it all over again.

She’s managed twenty-five years without him, so she reasons that she can manage twenty-five more — it’s not like she has a choice. She promised it, after all, too long ago to even remember when, exactly, but that was one of the things they had both promised each other — that they’d have a happy life; that they’d fight for it, no matter the cost, no matter where they’d be in the world, if together or if apart. Life had spinned the roulette and the ball had landed on apart, but that had been out of their control.

“Mom? Mom, are you listening?”

Sarah’s standing there, fingertips digging into the cushioned back of the couch — her baby girl now at the threshold of adulthood. Time really does fly in hindsight.

“I said I’m taking Lex on a run,” she says, brows furrowing as she lets the dog’s leash dangle in her hold, almost as a way to catch her mother’s attention. “Are you okay? Did Dad call again? Do you want me to call Jake?”

She shakes her head and only then, when her gaze drops to the kitchen table, does she realize she’s been gripping onto the red pen in her left hand with more force than necessary. “I’m okay, just thinking. Don’t be too late, you still have school tomorrow.” And although that’s true, her voice comes out soft and tired, and all of a sudden she knows tears are about to come. “Have fun,” she adds before her daughter can speak.

A pet to Lex’s furry head, and the dog has sprinted into a messy run towards the entrance door.

“You know you can talk to me.” Sarah’s standing in the corridor, but her head is poking into the room, a hand gripping the door frame. It’s a weird sight, albeit not unfamiliar — a boy her age, blonde hair much shorter, a happy smile on his lips, she’s seen that pose a million times in a past life. “If it’s about Uncle Alex…” There’s a long pause as the girl looks for the right words, goes over every possible ending she could come up with, but then settles for none. “You know it,” her daughter nods, and then she’s gone.

Unconsciously, she sits up straighter and strains her ears until she hears the front door open and close. Lex barks twice outside and through the open window of the living room, she can hear her daughter’s chuckle at the dog’s playfulness.

Then everything goes silent again and she’s left with that odd sensation in her soul. It’s nothing she can put her finger on, but it’s… there, and it’s something. Something she had never known she felt until that night, and something she hasn’t felt ever since. It knocks the wind out of her and as the pen falls onto the table, a sob tears its way up her throat.

It feels like home, in a way. It feels like being seventeen again — not the Zac Efron way, but it’s… again, something. Something so utterly absurd that she’s this close to slapping a hand against her forehead, but that hand just ends up clamping down onto her mouth when she feels another sob coming.

She feels the sobs more than she does the tears. They seem to shake her from the inside out — and not just from there, but from her very soul. She tells herself it’s just the anniversary — and everything else in her life going both the wrong and the right way. Her marriage in shambles, and her kids off to college, leaving her with no one but the dog she rescued some five years ago at their spot.

It has to be that. It’s all catching up this year, after all. The twenty-fifth lap around the Sun, bringing back all the memories from that night, both at the Orpheum and then in that alley. Her ex-husband trying to shatter what’s left of her life after leaving her utterly heartbroken one too many times already. Sarah going off to nursing school when the school year ends; and Jake playing his uncle’s instrument with his friends from college.

The house already does feel empty, but right now it’s almost hollow. Hollow and silent, almost expanding to infinity as she tries her best to keep herself under check — and she fails.

“C’mon, you’ve already done this countless times,” but her voice shatters on the last syllable and her lower lip quivers, and for a moment she’s blind even behind her reading glasses. “Just breathe.”

But that just breathe doesn’t hit as well as her brother’s always did, it doesn’t calm her down. She’s left feeling like she’s whole again — and more than that, like she’s part of something bigger, of a two-for-the-price-of-one kind of deal. And as she makes her way upstairs, her knees aren’t the only part of her body trembling.

There’s an old shoebox on the top shelf of her closet. It’s been there ever since the beginning and through all the relocations her family has done since the unlucky day she moved in with Michael at eighteen. It’s a pale red by now, held closed by elastic bands of every color and they’re so many because when the memory of what’s inside makes her feel like she’s starting to crumble apart again, she adds one more in the desperate attempt to keep it sealed, to keep the past inside, hidden away, almost as though by doing so, she can keep every single one of those memories locked away in a dark and recondite corner of her mind.

But not today. Today she knows she has to open it. She feels it in her bones, and probably even deeper than that. And maybe it’s about time — just open the Pandora box and see what happens, or something like that. The tears are already there; she doesn’t see what else could come out of her hidden past that isn’t already there.

Taking the rubber bands off is the hardest part. One by one, it feels like ripping off a brick from the wall she has spent almost three decades building around herself. It’s exhausting and by the time she has reached the last rubber band — the last brick — she has no tears left to shed. But that’s good; it has the taste of liberation, like she’s finally free of a choker she didn’t know she was wearing.

Almost as a joke of fate, a velvety choker necklace is what welcomes her back to the 1990s when she takes the lid off. Black and simple, it used to be her favorite. It was her lucky charm necklace, something she had somehow ended up always wearing when her brother and his group were playing.

But the stack of photographs is still there, right underneath it, and it takes her endless minutes to convince herself to pick them up. She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting cross-legged on the floor for, but probably not as long as she thinks she has.

Her hand trembles when she picks up the first polaroid. And she feels it again, that lump of tears in the back of her throat, and then that sensation of absolute void and loneliness she has felt inside for so long.

The empty stage of the Orpheum would be unrecognizable to anyone that doesn’t know where the photo has been taken. It’s just a place like any other, but she can still feel the electricity in the atmosphere almost as though she was still there, stuck between those four walls like some sort of ghost.

She was laughing, and so was Alex. He had an arm around her shoulders, and she had one around his waist. As absurd as it could sound, to this day she can still smell him — he had a cheap perfume he wore at gigs, one he had treasured dearly, and all because it had been a present from her for their shared birthday. And that night they had been laughing because Reggie had almost tripped down the stage when Bobby had called him over.

The memory crashes over her like a wave. Luke had tried to silence their laughter to snap a good picture — and she’s sure there are better ones in that shoebox — but somehow this in particular is the one that bears the most meaning.

“Guys, please!” She can still hear her friend as clear as day, probably more clearly than she hears her students in class every day. “Can you please…

… please stop laughing? I’m tryna take a decent one here!”

“Sorry, bro,” but Alex is still laughing, and she is too, and in the hilarity of the moment, they end up pulling each other closer.

The flash goes off and as Luke flaps the polaroid picture, Alex gives her shoulder a squeeze before eventually turning serious.

“I’m glad you could come, Nance.” And although he’s smiling down at her from the height difference their twin bond hasn’t managed to level out, it’s clear from the look in his eyes that there’s something else lurking underneath the surface. It could be one of the billion things their parents have said — have spat out like venom in their usual style — but she can’t put a finger on one in particular.

“They can say and do whatever they want,” she says as she shakes her head. “You know that, Lex: it’s always been you above anyone else and always will be. I’d choose you in a heartbeat over them. You know I’ll always be front row for you.”

He heaves a sigh and leans his forehead against hers. His nerves are starting to act up — as usual before a performance, before he sits down and starts pouring his heart out on the drums — but she knows he’ll find his calm very soon.

“Just a little longer.” She tries to come off as reassuring, but there’s a pinch of fear — of the unknown, of failing, of having to go back — inside her at the plan they have come up with. “September is right behind the corner, then we’re both eighteen and out of that house for good. They won’t be able to stop either of us.”

“I know, I’m just… impatient.” He looks up when Bobby calls his name — they still have to rehearse their opening song for tonight. “I miss you when I’m not there, and I’m —”

“No need to be worried, Lex.” She pulls him into a side hug and breathes him in. And she doesn’t know it, not yet, but this will be the last time she’ll be able to do it. In her forties, she’ll still remember the way the fabric of his t-shirt felt against her cheek that night — soft and warm, smelling of the perfume she gave him on his last birthday; the way he playfully tugged on her braid, or how that chuckle ringed in the back of his throat. And even the way Reggie flirtingly called her just so that she would turn around. “Now go show them who’s best,” she chuckles, letting her brother go.

Watching them play always gives her a first-time kind of sensation, and there’s no stopping her from dancing around, just feeling the music. Now or Never is one of her favorite songs of theirs, and she just knows they’ll make it big. Landing a gig and playing at the Orpheum isn’t easy, but she’s looking at them — a bunch of seventeen-year olds, and she can’t but smile because they’ll hit the big time soon. Their own concerts, their own tours, no more sneaking around parents to play in a garage — but an actual career, with an actual label, and everything will be good.

And it’s almost exhilarating to know that they’re all willing to take her with them on their journey. It’s not like they’ll ever be able to get rid of Alex’s twin sister, not when they know how much they mean to each other, how important they are to each other as they wait to become of age. It’s the start of something big and she’s there with them, a bunch of kids she’s met almost by accident, and she can’t wait for tonight. The people, the Orpheum…

She jumps around, excited, and there’s nothing else. Not her parents’ venom towards Lex, not the billion and one problems at home, not even volleyball practice at school.

“Nancy!” She looks up when Reggie calls her name over Luke’s singing and when her eyes meet his, she realizes she’s tired of the endless and fruitless flirting and that she’d love to go to the school ball with him. “‘s one’s for you!” he grins, before joining the others in the chorus — Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever, But live it like it’s now or never.

She cheers, and even the girl behind her giggles as she cleans one of the tables in preparation for tonight.

The one before her is a sight that would turn into a picture in her mind with time, a photogram that would never fade, would never age. Four friends living their dream — and it’s amazing to know that one of them is the person she cares about the most in the world. She looks at them and even at forty-two, she won’t be able to think back of Bobby with contempt as he stands on that stage.

It feels like finally being a part of something bigger than just herself, even if she’s standing on the sidelines, watching someone else living the dream. She’s there for that; she’s there for them, and she will always be, wherever that’ll take them —

— She doesn’t know that ‘wherever’ is a dirty couch in a back alley. Or an ambulance that will just arrive at its destination too late. Right now it’s the Orpheum first, and then something bigger and better in the future.

When the song is over, she’s the first to clap and whistle in an empty Orpheum Theater, excitement bubbling up inside her, making her blood buzz in her veins.

“You’re the only groopie that matters,” Reggie jokes, pulling her into his side after jumping down the stage. “I’d ask you out on a post-gig burger if it wasn’t for…”

They both turn to glance at her brother and see him climbing down the stairs to the side of the stage to get to them.

“Dream on, Reginald,” he says and she laughs.

“It’s just rehearsals but you guys were killing it up there,” she smiles, intertwining her fingers with her brother’s. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“And that you snuck out just to come and see us,” Bobby adds, a grin shyly stretching on his lips.

“Bold of you to assume she’s not just here for Alex!” Luke picks her up from behind, his arms wrapped tight around her waist as he spins her around.

“Put me down,” she laughs out of breath. “He’s my brother. Of course, he’s the number one reason I’m here,” she jokes.

When he eventually puts her down and they stare at each other chuckling as they catch their breaths, Reggie is the first to speak. “You’re like family to us,” he says, “you make everything else worth it.”

She smiles, through her breathlessness and the skin of her face heating up. “You guys are family for me as well.”

There’s not much silence then, not when the few workers present cheer on the guys, distracting them from the moment. She stands there, smiling softly at the bassist in front of her, and he smiles at her just as warmly.

“For the record,” she whispers, “I would have said yes to that post-gig burger.”

And he smiles, cheeks flushing pink before Luke’s Street dogs? distracts them.

She watches as they all agree — all but Bobby, for he ‘could never hurt an animal,’ as he tries to flirt with the slightly older waitress. Rose. She’s nice, and as Nancy’s found out while the boys were setting their stuff up on stage, she has a group of her own. And just as Rose has made her feel at home while she had sat all alone on one of the stools, Nance steps in to steer the guys away just after Reggie gifts her one of their t-shirts — size beautiful, and she’ll forever remember those two words with a smile on her face even years later.

“I’m sorry, they just don’t know when to stop with the flirting,” she smiles apologetically just before guiding Luke towards the exit door.

“You coming with us?”

“Later,” she nods, turning to face her brother as he’s pulling his jacket on. “I wanna make sure everything’s in order for tonight. This is your big chance, right?”

He nods. “I’ll wait for you.”

And she’ll forever regret ever speaking her next words. “Nah, it’s okay. You go on, I’ll reach you in five, ten at most. Just make sure there’s something left for me.” Twenty-five years later she still hears her own chuckle, still feels her brother’s warm cheek against her perpetually chapped lips as she presses a see-you-later kiss to his skin.

She watches him leave, and answers to his ‘see you later’ with a wave of her hand.

It’s almost unbelievable how cruel things are at times. You’re seventeen, sneaking around your parents, having fun with your brother and his friends, playing the piano for them every once in a while… and then suddenly the wheel of fortune spins again, and something as small and insignificant as a hot dog turns into a major plot point. The wind changes, and suddenly the colors start fading, the music turns fainter and fainter, until there’s nothing but static silence.

When she leaves the building fifteen minutes — and an unexpected call from home — later, all she’s in the mood for are hot dogs and her friends. She doesn’t know where Bobby has gone off to, but she doesn’t pay it much attention as she wraps herself into her hoodie.

The night air isn’t too chilly, but there’s something to it that brings goosebumps to her skin. She’s nauseous, and she doesn’t know whether it’s because she’s just got off the phone with her yelling mother, but she doesn’t care. They’re not going back home tonight anyway — little does she know that she won’t be going home for a completely different reason than just celebrating with her brother and the guys.

The man selling street dogs out of his car greets her with a smile before she walks past him to fix herself a quick dinner. She’ll never understand how they’re yet to catch some disease from the weird food they eat before gigs, but she won’t have much more time to wonder.

“The guys are inside,” he tells her when she hands him the price, and all she can do is thank him with a grin on her lips, her stomach closed into a knot, before making her way to the makeshift dining area.

She stops in the entryway and quickly glances around before she spots them on the couch. Luke and Alex seem to have fallen asleep, but Reggie’s staring back at her and she finds herself blushing.

“Won’t you finish your hot dog?” she asks as she walks up to them, a smile on her face that slowly leaves its place to a frown when the boy doesn’t answer, doesn’t react in any way.

It’s then that the nausea gets stronger, and somehow she’s not in the mood to eat anymore.

“Reg? Cat got your tongue?” She fails at that chuckle and when she’s close enough, she almost crouches forward to shake him by his shoulder. “Prank’s over, your staring is unsettling.”

His head falls backward, against the back of the dirty and tattered couch, and it’s then that her heart starts beating in her temples. She stares at him, frowning, her hot dog still in her right hand.

“Reg?”

Her gaze moves down to his chest and suddenly, the place’s silence becomes deafening. She hears her heartbeat — she feels it everywhere in her body — just as she hears her breathing almost scratch every time she exhales. Her subconscious is quicker at reacting: her hand lets go of her friend’s shoulder all of a sudden, and it truly does feel like the contact burned her palm in a sickening way, but it takes her a full minute for the conscious part of her brain to catch up.

His chest is not heaving.

She gasps, and her hot dog drops down onto Reggie’s knee first and then to the floor.

Frantically, her gaze swipes over Luke and Lex. She’s aware of everything and nothing at once. Her palms turn clammy; her breathing gets deeper, it almost hurts her lungs; and just as her eyes move from Luke to her brother, she knows she’s about to throw up. It’s cold — despite the place being sheltered, despite Lex’s too-big hoodie on her: goosebumps tug painfully at her skin. And when her wandering eyes stop on the person she loves most in the world, her knees threaten to give out and make her trip over Reggie’s extended leg.

“Lex?” but her voice is a whisper. Her chest hurts as she seems to move in slow motion; her head is empty and heavy at the same time and oh my God, please, just —

She doesn’t know how she’s managed to take those three steps to stand in front of her brother, and even twenty-five years later, that still feels like the hardest thing she’s ever had to do.

He seems fine. She looks at him and there’s nothing weird on his face; he’s stained his shirt, but that can be fixed. Reggie could lend him his flannel. Hell, he could wear one of their Sunset Curve t-shirts!

“Lex.”

She doesn’t know she’s falling until her knees crash onto the rough concrete of the floor.

His hand is still warm when she gets a hold of it.

And she can’t move. The nausea almost makes her head spin, and she feels… empty. It starts slowly. It’s a feeling as tiny as a pinhead at first, but it grows quickly, like a black hole that eats and swallows her whole, quicker and quicker the more the momentum picks up.

“C’mon, it’ll be September soon… You have a concert tonight.”

But he doesn’t answer. And the more she stares at him, the more that whisper in the back of her head grows in volume —

— Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. —

— until it echoes in her mind and her ears and —

“An ambulance is coming,” someone says — to her, to the three boys in front of her, she doesn’t know, it doesn’t matter, nothing does. “I’m sorry, if we had realized sooner —”

But she’s already turning her head to the side to throw up.

The strongest memories of that night are the goosebumps, the cold, the nausea. And then that extreme loneliness building up inside her, quickly growing like some kind of alien parasite, rooting her to the spot, freezing her mind in a loop of Lex Lex Lex that just goes on indefinitely.

And then the flashing lights of an ambulance and Bobby calling her name — Nance? Nance? Nan—

—nce?”

She whips around so quickly she almost loses her balance on the heels she’s wearing. No one has called her ‘Nance’ in forever, even Michael preferred ‘Nancy’, but coupled with that weird feeling that has been rocking her for a couple of weeks now, it truly does feel like suddenly being back in some familiar place.

It takes her a couple of seconds before her sight zeroes in on the Trevor Wilson.

“Nancy?” The smile on his lips is unsure as he makes his way up to her between rows of clothes. He hasn’t changed since the last time she’s seen him, but at the same time she stares at him like he’s grown ten heads; like her brain can barely comprehend what’s going on. “That really you?” He has colorful clothes in his arms, she notices as her brain struggles to keep on functioning smoothly.

“Hey.”

“It’s been, what? Ten years?” Bobby’s never been good at small talk, and she realizes now that Trevor hasn’t become much better, not even after the decade that has passed since the last time she’s seen him at a teacher-parent meeting. “You look well.”

“Thank you.” Her heart is in her throat — it feels like choking, like gasping for air she can’t get —, and for a moment she forgets all about having a teenage daughter she needs to help find a dress for her school ball. “You look well, too.” It’s lame, but she can’t even attempt a chit-chat with the only one of them that got away on his legs.

“How have you —” He sighs, and he probably catches up with what she’s thinking — the way her brain has stopped working, the way it must be back into that loop of loss first and drugs later, when they had turned their backs on each other. “How are you?”

“It’s been forty-two years of shit, Bobby,” she sighs. “But the kids make it good. I hope Carrie’s doing well. She was a good pupil.”

“I’m not…” I’m not Bobby, that’s what he’s about to say. I’m not Bobby anymore. I haven’t been Bobby in twenty-five years. Bobby’s dead.

But Bobby isn’t dead, he didn’t share his friends’ fate, so he shuts up. He still remembers the black eye she gave him the very day Trevor Wilson’s first song — Luke’s song — came out, and she reads it right on his face, in the way his expression changes and falls in defeat.

“I’m helping my daughter with her dress now. I should go.” The smile she gives him is tired and tense, and she doesn’t put much effort into coming off as a happy woman for him, not after the bad joke he pulled in the past. “It was good seeing you. I wish you well.”

And with that she turns around, swallows the lump in her throat and for a moment thinks back to Lex. Lex, and the fact that she didn’t get the chance to see him age into the man Bobby’s had the chance to become. To Luke, and the success he would have had with his talent. And then to Reggie, whose open eyes still haunt her to this day — and although she’s grateful for her children, she can’t help but wonder how things would have turned out if she and Reg would have had a chance.

“Mom? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Sarah is standing there, at the entrance of the changing rooms area, and although there’s her usual concerned frown on her face, she truly does look like a princess in that navy dress she didn’t want to try on.

Nancy chuckles — she wouldn’t have thought of those words, but boy, are they spot on! “Just someone I used to know. So, what do you think of that?” she asks, desperately trying to steer the conversation into another direction. “I wasn’t always a mom, I used to have good taste in outfits, too.”

Sarah laughs at her joke and she does, too. And for a moment, a split second, she sees her brother in the way her daughter laughs and looks away for a moment. But that memory is as short and quick as a flash, and she doesn’t have time to think about it for too long.

“Yeah, I know.” She’s almost on the verge of spilling the beans — that she and Jake have gone through her secret box with all her memories, but she catches her tongue just in time. There’s no need to upset her mother, not when she’s been in her head so much these past two weeks. “But I like it, and you could do my hair…”

An hour later, they’re walking back to the car, bags with food and anything Sarah might need for her ball in their hands.

Bobby — Trevor — is there, and Nancy holds his gaze for a few seconds as she walks by. She barely has the time to see Carrie’s head disappear into her father’s car before the door closes with a slam. They stare at each other, but it’s not Nancy and Trevor: it’s a pregnant Nance standing in front of a Bobby whose face is about to meet her left hook. It’s tense and silent, and there’s the same guilt in his eyes that he had back in 1998.

How did things go like that? She’s had twenty-five years to look for an answer to that nagging question, but she’s never found one — not in the three years she’s spent with her feet in two different worlds, and not even after the birth of Jake in ‘98.

“I was over at the Molinas’ to help Carlos with his homework yesterday,” Sarah says as she lays her new dress down onto the back seat of the car. “Did you know Julie’s started playing again?”

Nancy stares at her daughter for a long minute and the longer she stands there, as she finishes putting the groceries in the trunk of the car, the more that soft smile stretches on her lips. “Really?”

Sarah nods. “She apparently has a band of holograms or something now. Carlos doesn’t exactly know how that works, but says they’re cool.”

“Her mother would be so proud.” The engine roars to life and when she turns to check that nothing or nobody is behind them as she puts the car in reverse, she catches her daughter’s questioning expression. “She had a group as well.”

The Sunset Curve demo her kids still listen to starts playing then, and Nancy has to be careful not to jolt the car to a stop — she didn’t remember it still being in the CD player, she thought Jake had brought it to college when he had left after spring break — he has been contemplating making his friends listen to his mom’s friends’ songs for months, but she must have been mistaken.

The silence is heavy, almost tense. It has the weight of a being alive of its own life, pressing down on her shoulders and robbing her of her breath as she leaves the parking lot of the mall and she heads back home. It’s always a pang to the heart, every time the notes start playing and Luke gets ready to sing again. And although it hurts, although the tears are always there, ready to prickle her eyes, it’s a way to keep them alive. Twenty-five years after their deaths, and she’s still childishly hoping that playing their songs will miraculously bring them all back to life.

It’s only when the chorus sings Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever, But live it like it’s now or never — the same one Reggie had playfully dedicated to her that night — that Sarah clears her throat. “I didn’t know you knew Mrs Molina well.”

Nancy hums. “We met once, before…”

“Oh.” There’s no need for explanations, nor to wait for her mother to finish that sentence. “I didn’t know.”

“We never had the chance to get close,” she shrugs. “But I’m glad you’re going along well with her kids. How’s Carlos doing?”

Sarah laughs, and it’s in that moment that the sun starts shining again. That weird feeling of slowly-building wholeness filling her cup one drop at a time is still there, and somehow it’s still something she can’t explain — maybe the pieces of an unfinished puzzle going back to their place? or maybe just life finally starting to go in the right direction? — but it doesn’t feel as nagging with her daughter’s laughter ringing in the cabin of the car.

“He’s starting his career as a ghost hunter.”

“A ghost hunter?” A smirk tugs at her lips and it feels good, after years spent trying her hardest to do something that should have always been so natural.

“Yeah, his dad was taking pictures of the house when they were still considering selling it and one came out with three orbs. Carlos thinks it could be his mom with some friends, or just some ghosts in general, and he wanted my help to set his channel up since he knows I helped Jake and the guys with theirs.”

Nancy chuckles, and she feels light again after so long. The last time she’s felt like that was when the divorce papers had finally been finalized, probably. “So, are you? Helping him, I mean?”

“Hell yeah, I am, mom! That kid is the best kid I’ve ever babysat. He’s going through all the old stuff at his place to see if he can find anything that might help him find out whose ghost he’s dealing with.” She smiles brightly — and Nancy can’t help but mirror her expression when she sees it from the corner of her eye at a red light. “I think I’m —”

— going to sing for Jake’s band.

It’s a week after that afternoon in the car, and Nance is still thinking about the news Sarah has informed her of a few hours ago. Her daughter has been acting weird for a week now, and although she couldn’t pinpoint the cause at first — Sarah wouldn’t tell her —, she’s now starting to understand. Jake and his friends had a falling out with their singer Peter the day before a possibly important gig at Eats&Beats, the same one Julie and her hologram friends played at, and she’s probably been pondering her brother’s offer.

Still, it somewhat stings, for there have never been secrets between her and her girl. The pride bubbling up inside her is stronger than anything else, though, and she can’t help but smile.

It’s the first time she smiles at what had used to be her and her brother’s secret place at the beach. That alcove used to echo with the sound of their laughter a long time ago, but had quickly turned silent after that night at the Orpheum. It’s just the way things go sometimes, when you can’t make them go the way you want, when life’s outcomes are way out of your control.

It’s peaceful, and for the first time in painfully long years, she truly does feel at peace. It’s a weird, almost stressful feeling for someone who’s never exactly felt at peace in her life, but she’d like to think that this truly is the start of a new and happy chapter in her life.

Lex is with her, with his head resting heavily on her thigh, much like the day she found and rescued him — or, well, the day he found and rescued her. He’s always by her side, and somehow he knows when she needs him the most. It’s not exactly like having her brother with her but it’s… close.

“I wish you were here.” She never talks to her brother out loud, but somehow she feels the need to do just that now. The words leave her lips before she has the chance to stop them, and she finds that it doesn’t hurt as much as she had always thought it would. “The kids are following in on your footsteps more than they are mine.”

And it’s not a bad thing. At all. It’s a relief neither Jake nor Sarah have gone down the path Michael had started to take her along with him. And although Jake behind the drums is still a sight she won’t become fully used to all that quickly — she hasn’t managed to in twenty years —, it’s still comforting in a way. She watches him play with her brother’s only remaining pair of drumsticks and she feels at home.

“I’m so proud of them, and I like to think you’d be, too.” Then, she smiles again. “Sarah asked me if I believe in ghosts the other day. If I think people with unfinished business come back from the afterlife in an attempt to see it through. If I think you’d ever come back, maybe with the guys. And I…”

But her voice fails her. One of her hands comes down to caress Lex’s head while the other plays with a smooth piece of wood she’s found in the sand.

The truth is, she’s spent longer than she’d ever be comfortable admitting with her mind wondering about that same question, bouncing around like a pinball.

She doesn’t know the reason for Sarah’s weird behavior isn’t Jake and his friends asking her to join September Dream. Just as she could never imagine that last week, when Carlos Molina invited her daughter to his sister’s garage party, she saw three guys she’s only ever seen in her mother’s polaroids playing right in front of her like life has never stopped.

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original video used for the gif: https://www.pexels.com/video/blurred-bokeh-video-855204/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp imagine #jatp fanfic #jatp alex #jatp alex imagine #angelaiswriting #alex mercer #jatp alex mercer

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

Text

Banished (Part 53)

~Banished~

Word Count: 9.2K

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x08 of the 100, God Complex*

*Bold/Italics are Trig!*

Previously…

“Emori, who is he?” He asked with a slight urgency.

“Someone other than me who’s going into that oven.” She said with zero remorse.

Murphy’s smirk slowly came to his face as he understood what Emori done. “Now that is a survivor’s move.” He said proudly. If this worked and ‘Baylis’ survived, then humanity survives, but if he doesn’t, then it wasn’t Emori. In his eyes, it was brilliant.

But you, who stood right below them and in the perfect spot to overhear, were seething. Emori played all of you, but she played you the most. Sure, the story she gave you about being banished was true, but this man had no part in it at all.

The only crime he’s done was break into the house to feed his family and he was going to die for it.

And it had been your call.

---

You still hadn’t told anyone what you overheard Emori and Murphy talk about during Baylis’ injection but you weren’t sure why. If this didn’t work and Baylis died, wouldn’t it be your fault? But if he survived…

No one would have to know.

Being desperate at a time like this was hard, you had to save the world, but at what cost? Baylis was sealed in the radiation chamber and you watched as Abby checked his vitals for what seemed like the millionth time. You stood back, keeping everyone in your line of sight, but the glare on your face was directed mainly at the couple in the room, John and Emori standing off to the side and pretending to be upset over the man.

Liars.

“He’s ready.” Jackson told Abby, but everyone listened in. You brought your knuckle to your mouth, biting softly to keep the secret inside you.

“But are we ready?” Raven asked as she looked around the room, you refused to look away from Emori and Murphy, not risking the temptation to spill.

“The guy’s a monster!” Emori yelled out and Murphy grabbed her to keep her back, keeping up their act as your stomach twisted.

Clarke turned around, seeing her ‘anger’ before she spoke to everyone. “We’ve been over this. None of us wants to do this, but the death wave will be here in 10 days.” She reminded and you took a breath, finally looking away to Clarke. “Luna’s cells grafted successfully and Baylis is making Nightblood on his own. This really is our only hope.”

Murphy groaned, throwing his head back slightly. “Are we really still talking about this? The Black rain is already here and 18 people died in it yesterday at Arkadia. If Nightblood can let us walk around in it, I, for one, wanna know.”

A silence fell amongst the room as they thought about Murphy’s words. Clarke looked to you, and you faltered before nodding. She nodded back before her mother and Jackson began. You slowly crept across the room to Murphy and Emori, standing next to them as the machine turned on. Noticing your arrival, Murphy gave you a look. “For the sake of your humanity, you better hope he survives.” You whispered as Emori and Murphy’s faces fell and Emori was now glaring at you. You met her stare with a stone-cold one of your own. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your little secret.” Your eyes flickered up to Murphy’s whose jaw was locked and he was making sure no one listened in as you walked away, moving to stand next to Raven. Murphy and Emori shared a look, Emori’s a look of action before Murphy shook his head, letting his girlfriend know you wouldn’t say anything.

Jackson turned on the chamber and the process started, exposing the intruder to radiation. When he was exposed to enough radiation a non-Nightblood would react, he was fine and you were beginning to believe this might work. Jackson kept turning the dial, more and more, and more until Baylis’ vitals spiked suddenly. The machine started beeping and your blood ran cold. Clarke was leaning close to Baylis, looking right through the chamber's glass as she watched the radiation start to break out on his skin.

“Turn it off!” Clarke shouted and Raven grabbed your hand, holding tightly and you weren’t going to let go. Baylis woke up and you could do nothing but watch as he screams in agony.

“Get him out of there!” You yelled and Abby pushed her way past the equipment, trying to let Baylis free but Jackson wouldn’t let her.

“It’s too dangerous!” He yelled. No one could help him now. His screams turned to coughs as the blood filled his mouth and Baylis tried to cough it out, unable to breathe with the burns and blood pooling in his throat. He spat up the blood, lining the chamber and no one wanted to watch this man in pain, even if he had done the horrid things Emori claimed. The flatline on the machine echoed in your ears as it went off, meaning the man died. The man died and you didn’t stop it.

“What have we done?” Abby gasped out and no one had an answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the recently decease test subject, the guilt hanging high in your head as you slowly turned around, meeting Murphy’s eyes right away as he rubbed Emori’s back, keeping her from looking at the man she indirectly killed. Murphy didn’t break eye contact with you, both of you acknowledging how messed up this was.

What have you done?

---

With 18 lives taken from the black rain’s arrival, Arkadia hosted a funeral for them. A pyre was made in the middle of the camp as people gathered around, bodies all 18 of the dead laying on top, waiting for the eventual burning. Jaha was speaking to the crowd, everyone listening to his speech as they watched in sadness. Bellamy stood in the back, trying to keep himself strong despite thinking two of those bodies, Mark and Peter Colton, were there because of him.

Jaha took the torch he was holding, letting it fall on the pyre as Jasper, not showing a care in the world, walked past Bellamy and towards the front gate. “Too many funerals, too little time.” Jasper mumbled to Bellamy who glared.

“Show some respect for the dead.” Bellamy chastised him as Jasper kept walking, only turning around briefly.

“Why? I’m sure they don’t mind.” He said as Bellamy watched him, furrowing his brows as Jasper tried to leave the camp with no bag, meaning no protection.

“Where are you going?”

Again, Jasper turned around but kept walking as he shrugged. “Wherever the day takes me.”

“You got a chem tent?” Bellamy called after but Jasper said no, confirming Bellamy’s suspicions. Bellamy took off after him, not letting his friend leave the camp. “No one leaves without a chem tent!”

“Do you have chem tent?” Jasper asked Bellamy to which he received a yes. Jasper smirked. “Then we have a chem tent.”

Not wanting to deal with Jasper today, Bellamy grabbed Jasper's arm, keeping him from reaching the front gate. “Maybe you didn’t see how those people died.” Bellamy tried to get Jasper to understand, but the younger boy just looked back at the still going funeral.

“I saw; I’m just not afraid.” Jasper whispered before pulling from Bellamy’s grip and continuing his walk. Bellamy tried to stop him again, needlessly reminding him it wasn’t safe as Jasper chuckled under his breath. “What else is new?” He asked rhetorically, opening the gate as Bellamy watched on. “Come on!” Jasper called back. “We’re losing daylight.”

Bellamy shook his head but Jasper didn’t listen when he rolled his eyes and took off, Bellamy calling after him as he ran to follow. “Damn it, grow the hell up.”

Jasper smiled; his plan successful. “Good, you’re coming.”

“Yeah, only because I don’t want to carry your body in a bag.”

“Hey, I’m light.” Jasper joked, making Bellamy sigh in annoyance. “I’m wiry, but I’m light.”

“Kom graun, oso na graun op. Kom folau, oso na gyon op.” Niylah spoke softly as she sprinkled dirt onto the deceased, merging her grounder customs into Skaikru. Harper slowly approached her, her brows drawn together as she put a hand on Niylah’s back.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered to her, making Niylah nod. “What does it mean?”

Niylah smiled at her. “From the earth, we will grow. From the ashes, we will rise.”

Jaha was listening in, his head almost snapping around as Niylah spoke the words that had been taking up far too much of his thoughts.

From the ashes, we will rise.

“What did you just say?” He asked, needing Niylah to elaborate as he input himself into the conversation. Niylah was unsure what he was referring to, apologizing for her prayer for the dead as Jaha stopped her. “’From the ashes, we will rise.’ Where does that come from?”

She shook her head. “You’d have to ask a Fleimkepa. All I know is it’s what we say to ready our dead for the fire.” Jaha nodded, letting the woman get back to her prayers as he considered his options, and what he needs to do to speak with a Fleimkepa and verify the connection between the second dawn bunker and the grounders.

Jaha found his opportunity, taking the medallion Bellamy, you and he found to Kane, trying to convince Kane as chancellor. “It’s not a coincidence, Marcus. I need to speak with the Fleimkepa.”

“You already found the second dawn bunker.” Kane reminded his friend, knowing last time Jaha thought he was on to something, all you found was a bunker of death. “It was-“

“It was the wrong bunker.” Jaha interrupted him. “Cadogan said only those who reached level 12 would be saved.” He shoved the medal forward, Kane moving his head to see when Jaha pointed to the roman numeral on front. “This is level 11. What I found was a decoy, built to keep the level 12 bunker from being overrun.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Kane stopped him, not believing Jaha’s story.

“It’s what I would do.”

Kane smiled through his disbelief. “And you think Indra’s daughter knows where the current bunker is?”

“I think there’s a reason ‘From the ashes, we will rise’ became a grounder prayer.” Jaha insisted, knowing for a fact he was getting onto something. “Just like I think there’s a reason that a corporate logo became their sacred symbol.”

“The infinity sign.” Kane breathed out, slowly realizing despite not wanting too, that Jaha might be getting at something. “I can reach out to Indra. She might know where Gaia is.” Kane finally agreed.

Jaha was quick to stand, wanting to get going as soon as he could. “I’ll assemble a team.” He offered but Kane didn’t let Jaha leave.

“Thelonious, wait.” Kane called out. “Polis is a war zone. We won’t be welcome there.” Kane mumbled, knowing of the grounders disdain for Skaikru.

“We travel light.” Jaha assured him. “For this, we’ll need thinkers, not fighters.” Jaha was already putting together a team in his head.

Monty was packing in his room as Harper entered, stopping at the doorframe as she watched her boyfriend. “What’s going on?”

Monty hesitated, looking at the food packs in his hands before back up at her. “Kane and Jaha need an engineer for a mission.��

“Kane and Jaha!” Harper laughed sourly and Monty knew something was wrong. “Well looks like someone’s moving up in the world.” She patted Monty on the back as she entered the room and her voice wavered. “It’s just too bad in 10 days there’s not going to be a world to move up in.”

Monty stopped his packing, immediately turning in front of Harper. His hand went to her waist as his other lifted her chin delicately to look in her face. “How much have you had to drink?”

Harper stared softly into his eyes, whispering her words as the alcohol no doubt made her feel amazing. “Just the right amount.” She grabbed onto Monty’s collar, pulling his body into hers and wrapping her arms around his neck as she landed a sloppy kiss on his lips. Monty got lost in the feeling, kissing her back and grabbing her cheeks before pushing himself back, remembering she was drunk and he had a job. Harper let out a defeated sigh when Monty mumbled her name. “Duty calls.” She scoffed before pushing past, Monty grabbing her arm before she got far.

He cupped her cheeks again, rubbing his thumb across her skin to comfort her. “We will find a way to get through this.” He assured her. Harper nodded slowly before pecking his lips with her, their forehead resting together briefly before Monty sighed. “I have to go.”

“So, go.” Harper said. “I’ll be here if you get back.” Monty’s face fell at Harper’s words and she caught her mistake, her eyes widening slightly. “When. I meant when.” She fixed and Monty nodded again, giving her a final, definitely not their last, kiss.

---

After the intruders’ death, the moral around the lab had gone down tremendously, everyone was standing around staring at the path of the radiation on the big screen, its final days scaring everyone more and more. You took it upon yourself to clean out the bloodied radiation chamber, and the more you scrubbed, the more you felt you were scrubbing away your guilt, but neither the blood nor the guilt was going away. The blood just covered your hands and stained your skin.

Luna slowly moved to stand next to you, picking up beads Clarke had taken off Baylis’ neck before his body was removed. “The stones of his ancestors.” Luna mumbled as she held them in her hand, looking at you who stopped cleaning. You stared at the stones and cursed in your head. Those stones were going to damn you, wouldn’t they?

You were so focused on the stones, you weren’t even aware of Clarke leaving your side, wanting to listen in on Jackson and Abby talk. Jackson had been trying to figure out why the man died, and he might’ve figured it out. “Sodium polyphenol sulfonate.” He told Clarke after she asked what he found. “It’s an additive used to prevent clotting. It looks like the radiation had broken it down and caused a chain reaction.”

“What happens if we remove it?” Clarke asked and it was then your attention was pulled away to her.

“We could save everyone.”

Your jaw slacked slightly at Abby’s words before you dropped the rag you were using. “You could save everyone?” you clarified and Abby nodded.

Everyone was listening in, hopeful in fixing the cure as Murphy stepped forward. “So, you’re saying this could still work.”

Again Abby nodded, the room falling quiet upon the revelation as you bit your lip. “But you’d need to test it.” Your words served as a reminder that things weren’t just going to be perfect. “The last guy died. I have his blood literally on my hands and you want to try it again?”

“Please give us another idea, Y/N.” you scoffed, looking around the room to see if anyone was on your side. Raven seemed to be, Luna too. Roan kept his glance at the floor completely unreadable and Emori and Murphy- well, you knew what side they were on.

Again, Murphy was the one to speak up. “So we just go out there and hunt for someone else?”

“No!” you yelled and Clarke gave you a sad look.

“No one’s going anywhere in this storm.” Miller shut down Murphy’s idea, looking to the storm moving steadily on the screen.

“Then we wait for it to pass.” Murphy suggested again, trying to come up with any ideas to protect his girl.

You were surprised when Roan finally decided to speak up. “When it does there might not be anyone to hunt for.” He said and you narrowed your eyes, trying to decide what side he was on. You didn’t suspect it was yours.

Luna scoffed as she listened to your people bicker, unimpressed by the suggestions coming out. “What’s the matter with you people? Even Baylis honored the dead.” She held up the stones and your nerves escalated and you brought a hand up to your mouth, trying to hide your nervous breaths as you looked to John and Emori, seeing Emori’s eyes widen. “He wore the stones of his Rock Line ancestors. Who will honor him?”

“Wait.” Clarke mumbled, turning to you to see your eyes piercing at Emori, although she figured you staring at the stones. “Baylis was Sangedakru.”

“He was.” Emori said in defiance, noticing your gaze quickly before looking away in fake disgust. “He was also a thief and probably stole those stones.”

It was a good lie, you’d give her that, but something tells you it wasn’t going to last long. “A thief who doesn’t bear the mark of Sangedakru.” Roan muttered. Everyone was trying to figure out the lie as you and John locked eyes, his full of worry but you didn’t do anything.

They dug their graves, what’s the point in dug yours too?

“That wasn’t Baylis, was it?” Clarke growled at Emori who took a small step back in fear, grabbing Murphy’s arm.

Murphy let out a laugh, needing to keep up the guise they’ve made. “Come on Clarke. That’s crazy, of course-“

“Who did we just kill?” Clarke yelled at him, her lip trembling as she fully came to terms what happened. Everyone was looking to Emori and John and without another word, Emori took off running straight towards you. Your eyes widened slightly before you realized she was looking past you. She grabbed the IV pole standing next to the Chamber as everyone shouted her name. She didn’t get far before Roan had stopped her, holding a knife to her neck as you just stood there, feeling like crap because you had been on the wrong side. Emori yelled at John, telling him to take out the machine before you grabbed the pole from her and set it down, ignoring the death glare she was giving you.

Murphy tried to help her, but Miller put a gun to his head, not letting him get any closer as Emori struggled in Roan’s grip. “Looks like we know who’s next.” He said and you gulped, looking towards Clarke and seeing the look of terror on her face. Whatever happens next, it’s not going to be good.

---

The sun had long set since Bellamy and Jasper left Arkadia, the quiet night in the woods causing Jasper to sigh happily. “I know it’s bad and everyone is dying and all but I’m gonna say it. I don’t miss the mosquitoes.”

Bellamy scoffed at Jasper’s attitude. “This is all a big joke to you, isn’t it?” He asked, furious with how Jasper had been acting. The world was ending and Jasper didn’t have a care in the world.

“Now you’re getting it!” Jasper shouted back to Bellamy, not slowing his walking as he shined this flashlight through the tree lines. “One big cosmic joke and you’d realized that if you pulled the stick out of your ass.”

Bellamy had had it. He grabbed Jasper's arm, getting him to look at an angry Bellamy. “That’s enough.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

Bellamy’s lip pulled back in an irritated smile. “You’re trying to help me? That’s funny. We’re leaving. Now.” He ordered but Jasper had no plans on turning around.

“Damn it, open your eyes!” He yelled at Bellamy, getting him to stop leaving. “The clock is ticking and it has been since we landed on this terrible, beautiful planet. We’re living on borrowed time.”

Bellamy bit his tongue, not holding back his explosion as he headed back to Jasper. “If you know that, then why are you throwing it all away?”

“I’m not.” Jasper whispered to him, a smile lining his face briefly. “You are.” Bellamy let out a laugh, not believing Jasper’s thoughts. “What’s the point in beating yourself up over all the crappy things you’ve done? You did them!” he yelled, making Bellamy grit his teeth. “Don’t say you had reasons because, at the end of the day and the end of the world, nobody gives a damn about your reasons.” Bellamy didn’t want to but he was listening, feeling the guilt of his decisions still eating away at him. “No matter how much you punish yourself, it's not going to change anything. It’s not going to bring anyone back.” Jasper’s attitude had shifted completely from before, the thoughts of his own demons, of Maya, surfacing in his speech as he took a deep breath. “The way I see it, we can spend our last days wallowing in our reasons or we can do whatever the hell we want!” A laugh bubbled out of his lips as Bellamy’s eyes narrowed. “Really mean it this time.” He nodded his head to the stump next to Bellamy, a smile stretching on his face. “Magic Beans.” Bellamy turned, seeing the stump as Jasper shined the flashlight onto it.

“Hallucinogenic nuts.” Bellamy mumbled in disbelief of Jasper. “That’s why you dragged me out here?” He shook his head, remembering vividly of his first and last time he ate those nuts, the deaths of floated Arkers forever on Bellamy’s list of ‘crappy things he’s done’. “If you think I’m taking those again, you really are crazy.”

Jasper shrugged and pulled out a knife. “Whatever the hell you want.” He told his once rebel king before cutting the jobi nuts free and stuffing them in a bag.

---

After Emori’s lie came to light, everyone was against them. They handcuffed them to the rocket, but you stayed back, watching from afar and wondering if you deserved to be locked with them as well. At least you weren’t the one to construe a lie that killed a man.

Emori looked defeated, but Murphy was becoming hysterical, pulling on his restraints as he begged. “She was trying to save her own life! We’re not going to touch your stupid machine!” He kept pleading, calling out names and begging for everyone to listen as Clarke closed the launched doors, sealing them away from you all.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering putting Emori in that chamber.” Raven asked as everyone made way from the rocket, solemn faces across all of them.

Clarke hesitated to answer her before turning to her mom. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“There’s nothing else to do.” Roan cut her off, knowing what needs to be done. You clenched your fists softly. “We all know it.”

“Abby,” Raven blurted out, trying to appeal to Abby’s humanity. “There has to be something that doesn’t make us murderers.”

“Jackson and I examined every possibility. The only thing we know for sure is that if we do nothing, we die.”

“And we don’t want that.” You spoke out, eyes on the ground as everyone turned to you.

Abby shook her head. “No, we don’t.” She turned to Jackson and took a deep breath. “Prep Luna for the next extraction.”

“No.” Luna said, gaining looks of confusion from the doctors in the room. “You’ve taken enough.”

“Luna it’s okay, we’ll sedate you.”

“I said no.” She repeated herself, growing angry at Abby’s insistence. “I won’t allow my blood to kill any more innocent people.”

On the inside, you were relieved. Luna wouldn’t donate blood, Emori wouldn’t die. That was good.

“Luna please.” Clarke started begging. “Your blood is the only thing that can save us.”

“My blood is a curse.” She spat at Clarke, disgusted in how they wanted to use her. “It will however keep you from following me out in the rain.” Her foot dragged behind her as she walked past the group, trying to head the door outside despite Abby’s protests of her hip injury.

Roan stepped in front of her, keeping her at bay. “We can’t let you leave.”

Luna scoffed and turned to Clarke. “Is there no line you won’t cross in order to survive?”

“Survival requires sacrifice.” Roan spoke up. “If the freikdreina dies-“

“Don’t call her that.” Raven spat out, stopping Roan from using the derogatory term.

Roan stopped, listening to Raven’s order. “If she dies saving the world, that’s a good death.” Luna still had no plans to stick around, not caring if the world died because maybe humanity is already dead. “I don’t want to fight you. You’re wounded.”

“You have no choice.” Luna reminded him before turning and kicking into his chest. Roan flew backward into a cart, making you jump from the sudden attack as you weren’t expecting it. The attack hurt Luna more than she already was as she limped back and put her hands up. Roan got to his feet and you watched terrified of the ending in this fight.

Roan approached her, his fist up but he didn’t use them. Instead, he kicked her knee out, sending Luna to the ground in a cry of pain as Roan wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and held Luna against her struggles as she passed out, no longer thrashing about in his arms. “Sleep well, natblida.” He whispered in her ear. You watched on, a sickening feeling in your stomach taking you from the room as you ran past Roan and Luna and up the stairs. No one said a thing until you were gone and Roan lifted Luna in the air.

He brought her to the table, laying it across as Raven scoffed. “So, what now? You strap her down and steal her bone marrow?” Clarke met Raven’s eyes, unsure of what to say. “Welcome to Mount Weather.”

---

Polis was quiet as Jaha, Kane, and Monty walked up and bodies laid across the courtyard, radiation burns covering their bodies as the trio looked around. “Black rain.” Kane sighed as he kept moving forward. “It fell here, too.”

Once the three men cleared the dead bodies, a bird call echoed through the courtyard, stopping Kane, Jaha, and Monty in their tracks as they prepared for an attack. Popping up from the shambles of Polis, grounders pointed their weapons to them and Indra appeared, marching towards them as Kane let out a breath of relief.

“I thought she was your friend.” Jaha mumbled not at all feeling the comfort Kane had.

“She is. That’s why we’re still alive.” Kane started towards her as well, telling Monty to put his weapon down as he followed the order. Kane met Indra halfway between the groups as he smiled. “Thank you for meeting me. I didn’t know if you would.”

As soon as his sentence was finished, Indra punched him in the face, sending Kane stumbling backward before he regained his footing, sending her a confused look. “Don’t smile at me Kane.” She growled. “What do you want? You have 30 seconds, after that, as the enemy of my enemy, you are my enemy.”

Kane shook his head, easing his way softly. “Indra, you have to know that we had nothing to do with the attacks on your land or embassy.”

Indra stopped him, not wanting to hear the excuses. “What I know is Azgeda marched on Arkadia and you made another alliance with them to save your people, not mine.”

“I know how it looks, but believe me, we’re still trying to find a way to save everyone.” Indra shook her head, calling Kane a fool before retreating and Kane called after her. “You’re fighting for a city that won’t exist in 10 days. The radiation doesn’t care if you’re Trikru or Azgeda. If we can’t come together to fight this enemy, then what hope is there for us?”

Indra stopped walking, looking over her shoulder. “The only hope we ever have. To die a warriors death.” She started walking again and Kane was losing his chance.

“Indra wait, we need to speak to your daughter!” He called out. “She can be the one that saves us all!”

Indra stopped again, turning completely to face Kane, unsure whether she should believe it. “How?”

Gaia was praying to the commanders and the flame as she was interrupted. Indra rushed to her with Kane, Monty, and Jaha behind her. “Gaia, these men need your help.”

Gaia stood grounded, unsure of what was happening but Monty caught sight of her arm, his eyes furrowing. “You tattoo. In the center.”

Jaha took a look, glancing from the tattoo to the medallion in his hand that had the same symbol. “Still think it’s a coincidence?” he asked Kane who stayed silent.

Gaia looked down at the symbol on the metal before taking it from Jaha. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it.” Jaha told her, earning a slight gasp of disbelief from the girl. “Now I believe it’s so it could lead me to you.”

Monty spoke up, breaking the shock silence that came over the room as he asked where the symbol came from. “It’s the holy symbol of our order.”

“Mother.”

“Gaia please.” Kane interrupted her, needing to keep on track. “Skaikru helped you protect the Flame. Help us now.”

Gaia hesitated before agreeing. “It adorns the crypt of the first commander, Bekka Pramheda.” Jaha’s hypothesis was the crypt was in fact the bunker, and they needed to know where it was. There was one problem, however. The bunker was in the temple which was controlled by Azgeda just like the tunnels were.

If they wanted to get into the temple, they’d have to put their faith in the alliance.

---

After you left the lab, you headed over to Becca’s office, the giant window wall providing you the perfect viewing of Luna sedated on the exam table as Clarke, Abby, and Raven stood around having a short conversation you couldn’t hear. You sunk to the floor, leaning your head back on the glass with your eyes closed.

Everything was so fucked. Murphy and Emori were practically screwed and you…

There was a knock on the door to the office as your head rolled over, seeing Roan opening it and lean in the door frame. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded and gave him a thumbs-up before slowly rising to your feet as Roan let the door close and joined you in the room. “Nightbloods. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson after Lexa.”

You let out a chuckle as he stood next to you. “Don’t beat yourself up over that. She beat my ass more times than I could count.” Roan chuckled as well, a smile spreading on his face that somehow cheered you up slightly.

Your new smile however had faded as you looked out the window, seeing Clarke comforting Abby. Roan sighed. “We’re doing the right thing.”

“Are you certain about that?” you laughed slightly bitter.

Roan raised a brow at you but you weren’t looking at him, too focused on your friend and her mother. “Certainty’s a luxury that leaders can’t afford.” He reminded you and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a leader. Clarke’s the leader.” You told him, turning away finally to look at him instead of Clarke. “I’m just the girl too crazy to die.”

Roan nodded, raising his brows to show he agreed. “Sometimes we need crazy.”

“No one needs the crazy, Roan.” You sighed out, leaning against the wall. “You know, back before everything with the grounders when I was just Skaikiler, I didn’t kill unless I had to.”

“I know.”

“Then what am I doing now?” You blurted out before closing your eyes and sighing. “I’m sorry. I just wish there was something I could do.”

Roan nodded his head, looking down to Clarke much like you had been doing. “One day what they’re doing here will be worth it.”

You didn’t turn to look out, instead moving and leaving Roan by the window as your head drooped. “Hopefully I’ll live to see it.” You mumbled, getting Roan to turn around.

“What do you mean?” He asked, having overheard your mutter despite your low voice.

“Nothing.” You let out a sigh, licking your lip before sucking in a breath. “I just think I’m about to do something crazy.”

---

The 5 of them in Polis made their way to the Temple, keeping an eye out for Azgeda they finally ran into. “It’s okay!” Kane shouted after they were commanded not to move with weapons drawn on them. He reached into his pocket to grab the seal Roan gave Skaikru as he held it up, showing them they meant no harm. Azgeda emerged from the city’s rubbles, making Indra’s nerves spike. “Keep your head down.” Kane muttered to his people. “They’ll let us pass.” The ice nation came closer as Kane turned his attention to them and everyone put their weapons on the ground. “I’m the Skaikru Chancellor. As your ally, we seek safe passage into the temple.”

There was some shouting from Azgeda as the seal was taken from them and Azgeda was planning on letting them go. Indra, however, had other plans. When the man in front of her turned his back on them, she picked up Kane’s gun, opening fire and killing every Azgeda man she saw.

Kane was shocked, his eyes widening as he yelled at her but Indra wouldn’t hear of it. “If there’s a bunker in there, Azgeda will never see the inside.” She walked past him, leaving him standing there with his mouth open.

“Come on, Marcus. It’s not our war.” Jaha reminded Kane as he picked up the seal off the ground and handed it to Kane.

“Roan will think we did this.” Monty pointed out as Kane stared at the now slightly bloodied seal. Everyone followed after Indra, keeping pace as they entered the temple and Indra promised Echo would be sending reinforcements against them.

“It’s beneath the alter.” Gaia told them, pointing in the direction as Jaha moved slowly, pulling back pieces and scraps of metal before he found what he was searching for. Everyone helped move the coverings now, the salvation just in front of them.

There was an inscription on the bunkers seal, the symbol sitting pretty in the middle as Gaia translated. “Salvation lies within.” She told them, moving back to sit up. “We were taught it referred to the ship that brought her to us.”

“How do we open it?”

“Like every other lock, Mr. Green.” Jaha reached into his pocket, pulling out the medallion. “With a key.” He moved to place the piece in the hole of the lock, but it didn’t fit. “No.” He whispered, keeping up his tries to get it to fit as everyone looked on impatiently.

“Can you open it or not?” Indra asked but Jaha didn’t answer.

“We need more time.” Kane said before looking to the woman. “Can you reposition your army at the temple?”

“If I do that, we lose the tower.”

“The tower won’t save you.” Jaha told her, refusing to stop his attempts at fitting the piece in.

Indra glared at him. “Neither will ashes of the first commander if that’s all that’s down there.” Gaia pleads with her mother, wanting to believe in the commanders saving them. “I’ll move my guard detail to the temple door. Buy you some time.” She relented before looking at the weapon on Monty’s arm. “But I’ll need your guns.”

Kane didn’t give her them, looking at her incredulously before Jaha groaned. “Just give her the damn guns, Marcus.” Kane nodded as Monty and he handed over the guns to her, helping her carrying them on her shoulder. Gaia started reading the inscription again, running her hands over the crypt’s lock.

Kane pulled out the last handgun he had, passing it to Indra. “I fear jus drein, jus draun will be the end of us all.”

Indra swallowed with her nod, looking to her daughter and calling her name out. Gaia turned to look at her, seeing the guns loaded on her mother. “It would seem you should keep praying.” Gaia nodded before looking back to the crypt, closing her eyes and beginning her prayers again.

---

Music was playing loudly through Arkadia as Bellamy and Jasper returned, the younger boy spirits lifting as he walked inside. “Got it started without us.”

“Got what started?” Bellamy knotted his brows as he followed behind Jasper, confused as to what he was walking into before he saw the party the younger Arkadians had thrown and he stopped with a sigh. “Have fun.”

Jasper looked at him then to the party then back, nodding his head to get Bellamy to follow. “Come on.” He said but Bellamy didn’t move. Jasper rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s gonna die, Bellamy. We can go out like them,” he paused, gesturing over to the group of older men and women sitting around worrying before walking to the much more fun side of the Ark, “Or like us. The ending’s the same, but who says the journey has to suck?” He turned away from Bellamy, skipping over to the group and holding the bag of Jobi nuts in the air. “I come bearing fruit!”

The crowd cheered at Jasper's arrival and Jasper threw them to Niylah who made tea from them. Bellamy stood back, looking around the ark and between the two groups. He wasn’t paying attention as a girl named Bree approached him, getting far too close for his comfort.

“Wanna dance?” She asked, giving him a smile and Bellamy put his hands on her shoulder, gently pushing her away to separate.

“I don’t dance.” He told her.

Bree wasn’t going to let him go. She came closer again, grabbing Bellamy’s jacket to keep herself close. “I don’t really want to dance.” She whispered under her breath and Bellamy let out a small laugh, grabbing her hands to release her hold.

“I have a girlfriend.” He told her, smiling at the thought of you after the day he had. “I don’t really have any plans to dance with anyone else but her anymore.” He said and Bree sighed, wanting to try again but a hand landed on her shoulder. Both she and Bellamy looked up, seeing Jasper standing behind her before he nodded back towards the party and Bree gave up, sending Bellamy a wink before retreating.

“Girlfriend?” Jasper smirked at Bellamy, who pursed his lips, grateful for Bree’s absence. “Didn’t know it was official.” He teased and Bellamy chuckled under his breath. He started to walk away before turning around, pretending to pull Bellamy by an invisible rope. “Come on! You know Y/N would join us!” Jasper called out, not caring whether you would or wouldn’t as he roped Bellamy in. Bellamy sighed, shaking his head and knowing now he’d need a distraction or he’d be stuck missing you all night. He took the first step towards the party and Jasper cheered, throwing his hands up in the air as Bellamy caught up. “Let someone else save the world for once!”

Bellamy nodded, taking the cup that was held out for him and taking a sip, tasting the Jobi Nut tea before he was prepared and downed the rest of the cup, feeling the burn before he smiled.

---

Still handcuffed to the rocket, Murphy was trying his best to untie himself, biting and pulling on his handcuffs as hard as he could. Emori was accepting her fate, telling John to stop. “No Emori, I’m not letting this happen to you.”

“You have to.” She whispered, finally looking into Murphy’s eyes. “John listen to me.” She moved as close to him as she could, being handcuffed. “Make them think you’re okay with this. We can make Clarke think you’re still with her.”

Murphy shook his head, not wanting to agree with Emori’s plan. “I’ll kill her if she thinks about hurting-“

“Damn it John!” Emori yelled at him, her voice cracking. “Think! Don’t give them a reason to pick you out next. Survive, please.” She begged and Murphy didn’t want to want to agree but he didn’t have time to tell her.

The launch door opening to show you and Clarke side by side with Miller and Roan behind you both for protection. Murphy and Emori were still looking at each other as you held your breath, hearing Clarke tell them it was time for you to take Emori. Murphy immediately started begging for her life and you refused to look up at him.

“It’ll work this time.” Clarke’s empty promises did nothing to assure Murphy or Emori, or even you.

“How about we just go with that and forget the test?” Emori asked and Clarke gave her a sympathetic look.

You finally looked up, seeing her red-rimmed eyes lined with previously shed tears as that stomach-dropping feeling came back to you. Clarke nodded her head to Miller who pulled out a syringe and sedated Emori, catching her in his arms as Murphy started pleading to him and telling him that he didn’t have to do this but Miller knew it wasn’t true.

Miller carried Emori out of the room, Roan going with him until it was just you and Clarke. She looked at you, but you just stared at Murphy, your face neutral as Murphy yelled. “You don’t have to do this!”

Not wanting this to go the wrong way, you put a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, nodding away from Murphy. “Go. I’ve got him.” Clarke hesitated before nodding, sparing a last glance at Murphy before leaving you alone with him.

He scoffed at you. “You said you would help us.”

��I said I wouldn’t tell anyone.” You snapped at him, coming closer so he wasn’t yelling at you and risking Clarke overhearing.

He let out a laugh of pain, staring into your eyes. “It’d be a shame if Clarke found out you knew Emori was lying.” Murphy said and you clenched your jaw, knowing he was just upset. You started to turn around, not want to deal with Murphy but he called after you. “No, no, no, please, Y/N, please! Don’t do this, please I love her!”

You stopped walking immediately, feeling like you were shot in your chest. “Did you tell her that?”

“What? Y/N-“

“Did you tell Emori that you loved her?” you repeated and turned around, seeing Murphy’s brows drawn together. “Or were you so busy trying to find a way to save her that you didn’t tell her you loved her?” You weren’t sure where this was coming from, maybe from your own pent up feelings for Bellamy, but you didn’t care. You closed your eyes, taking a deep inhale before looking at him again and speaking with softer words. “Emori will be fine.” You promised him.

“If she dies, you die.” He threatened but you didn’t let his words get to you.

“Emori’s not going to die, Murphy.” You repeated and Murphy could feel how your promise didn’t feel as empty as Clarke’s had.

“And why’s that?”

You knew he wouldn’t take your word for it. “Do you trust me?”

Murphy narrowed his eyes at you. “Why should I?”

“Because,” You moved away from him, stopping on the other side of the launch doors and watching Murphy as the doors closed, “I’m crazy, right?”

Once the doors were closed, you let out a shaky breath, losing your composure as he let out a scream from the inside. Everyone paused, looking to you before you turned around, looking eyes with most of them before coming to Clarke’s side.

She didn’t say a word as she looked at Emori on a table much like Luna was. Abby was getting the syringe ready as Jackson tied a band around Emori’s arm, readying her for the injection. You moved out of Abby’s way as she came over with the syringe, your leg shaking as heavily as Abby’s hand was. Clarke was quick to notice, stepping past you to stand by her moms’ side.

“Mom?” She asked, but Abby showed no sign of a response. “We have to do this.”

Abby nodded finally, knowing Clarke was right as she tried once more to inject Emori but couldn’t. “I can’t.” She whispered to Clarke who nodded and took the syringe from her.

“I’ll finish it.” She whispered as well and you watched feeling yourself slowly sink into reality as you stepped forward when Clarke was about to inject her.

“Clarke?” you spoke softly, putting your hand on Clarke’s arm. She barely managed to look at you, her eyes already tearing as you tried to smile. “We need to talk.” She was confused, looking down to Emori and about to speak before you pulled the syringe out of her hand, placing it on the table. With a spare glance thrown to your confused friends, you pulled Clarke away from the table.

“Y/N-“

“You can’t do this.” You told her. She bit her lip, looking to Emori on the table before you took a deep breath. “I knew about their lie.” You whispered, keeping your voice quiet in the room. Clarke’s eyes slowly looked to you and you bit your lip. “Before we put that man in the chamber, I knew Emori was lying about who he was and I didn’t stop it.”

“You knew?”

Nodding your head shamefully you turned to Emori laying on the bed. “I overheard them talking about it and I didn’t stop it. I told you about him, made you think that using him was alright and I did nothing to stop anything. He’s dead because of me.”

“He’s not-“

“He’s dead because of me.” You repeated and Clarke didn’t stop you again, knowing there was no point. Baylis’, or whatever that man was called, fate was in your hands and you failed. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to inject that serum into me.” Clarke’s mouth fell open and she started shaking her head.

“Are you out of your mind? Do you want to die?” She asked you, gaining the attention of a few people as you tried to shush her.

“Of course, I don’t want to die.” You whispered harshly, pulling her as far out of earshot as you could. “But I’m not going to let Emori. That’d be two more deaths on my hands.” Clarke still wasn’t content with your answer as you sighed and grabbed her hands. “Clarke, I told you when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to take someone else’s spot to live. Either I die then right alongside everyone else, I die now and Abby knows what to do to fix the serum,” you paused with a shaky breath, “Or I survive. Everyone survives. Bellamy, Octavia, Kane, you. I need to do this.”

Being speechless wasn’t something Clarke was used to, but right now she really didn’t know what to say. “And if you die?”

You hesitated, even though you were just getting injected now, in a little while you were going to face your death. “Make sure your mom and Jackson figure out the serum.” Clarke tried to smile but you could tell it was forced, mostly for your benefit. You led her back over to Emori, no one knowing your plan as you looked down at Emori. Her eyes were closed as she laid unmoving, completely sedated. Clarke grabbed your hand under the table and you closed your eyes, feeling her look around the room before she picked up the syringe. She held it to Emori’s arm, making you think for a second, she wasn’t going to go through with it before her eyes locked with yours. “I’ll bear it so they don’t have to.” You whispered. You turned your arm slightly out and Clarke nodded. Right over her shoulder, Abby turned at your words, her brows furrowing before Clarke put the syringe in your arm.

“Clarke?” She whispered but Clarke didn’t stop. Slowly, the serum entered you and watched your veins turn black on your arm until the serum was gone and Clarke pulled the syringe out. You winced at the withdraw of the needle, the realization of what you just did becoming a reality.

“What did you do?” Roan asked, looking between the still black mark on your arm and up at you.

“We’re testing me.” You told them all before looking over your shoulder, your fate in the radiation chamber awaiting you.

What the hell did you just do?

You spent the next few hours letting your mind run crazy with the possibilities of what’s to come as you laid on the bed Emori once did, staring at the tiled ceiling above you. You let yourself think of everything you could, including Bellamy. If this didn’t work and you died, you never would’ve gotten to say goodbye to Bellamy. There were so many things you’d yet to tell him and in just a few minutes now you might not ever get the chance.

God Abby, please have gotten this correct.

Jackson walked up to you, giving you a short smile before you sat up and stretched out your arm, no words exchanged as he drew your blood. You didn’t watch, staring at Clarke as she joined. “It worked.” She said and you glanced down, seeing your blood now black as it sat in Jackson’s syringe. Everyone in the room was on end, shifting in nerves as you let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s been two hours.” Jackson said as you held your arm, blocking the needle mark with your thumb. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m going to throw up.” You grumbled under your breath, knowing it was nerves rather than the serum. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” Clarke asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. Nodding at her, you pushed yourself off the bed for the first time in two hours.

“Almost.” You whispered before turning to her. Realizing you wanted a moment alone, Jackson gave you space, taking your blood over to Abby who was rather close by. “Clarke, if things go wrong, I need you to promise me something.” Clarke furrowed her brow and you let out a laugh to cover your sorrow. “Tell Kane I’m sorry for everything.” You began and Clarke gasped lightly, not prepared for you to have been giving her your goodbye speeches. “I know he’s always tried to do what was best for me and I never really made it easy.” Having tried to decide what you wanted Clarke to tell Kane and Bellamy for the last few hours, you didn’t realize it was going to be this hard. You took a second, trying to even your words and completely unaware of Abby listening in at the mention of Kane’s name.

She hadn’t thought about him. Knowing how much you meant to Kane, Abby’s heart stopped. If he lost you, he’d break. She knew how she’d feel if it was Clarke going into the chamber and being exposed to the radiation. At the thought of her daughter and radiation, Abby was reminded of what she saw before Clarke and you arrived; Clarke covered in radiation burns. Maybe this was a sign.

She needed to stop this.

You were still trying to get through your speech to Clarke. “Just make sure Kane knows this wasn’t his fault. Or Bellamy’s.” Clarke quickly caught the change in your tone at the mention of Bellamy. Your face fell and you kept biting your lip. “And tell Bellamy that I-“

Abby stepped into your conversation, stopping you mid-sentence. “I can’t let you do this, Y/N.”

You furrowed your brows, looking between mother and daughter to see Clarke as confused as you. “Abby, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Mom, it’s okay, we trust you.” Clarke tried assuring her but she just shook her head, taking small steps backward.

“No, I won’t let Kane lose you again.” She ran to the chamber before anyone could get in her way and picked up the IV pole standing next to the chamber that Emori had tried to use earlier.

“Abby?” you called out seconds before the doctor swung the pole right into the chamber glass. “No!” you shouted at her alongside everyone else. Abby wouldn’t stop, hitting the glass over and over again, wires and pipes above her getting hit and sending sparks as well. She landed one last swing into the side, the glass there breaking fully before you were finally able to grab the stand away from her. “What did you do?!” you cried out, looking at the completely unusable chamber in front of you. Abby was breathing heavily, her adrenaline leaving her as she panted.

“I couldn’t let you go in there. Kane-“

“That wasn’t your decision!” you shouted at the woman, not caring about what anyone thought right now. “It was mine! It was my decision!” You weren’t aware of how distraught you were until your voice crack and Abby sunk to the ground.

Everyone was silent when you were yelling at her, Clarke being the one to approach either of you. She put her hand on your shoulder and you pushed it off, not wanting to be touched as you walked right past her and everyone, aware of everyone’s eyes on you as you left the room with a weight on your chest.

It didn’t matter what Abby’s reason for destroying the machine was. If this was the final hope, then she ruined it.

---

The struggle to get the bunker open was worse than ever, Kane using a crowbar to pry it open but it wasn’t working. “I told you it’s never been open.” Gaia said after Kane took a break, needing to catch his breath.

Gunfire rained outside, followed by men shouting as every inside the temple become more on edge than before. “It’s now or never.” Jaha said as Kane dropped the crowbar, wanting to help Indra despite knowing they couldn’t open the door. “We were brought here for a reason, Gaia. Think. Is there another key? It would have a 12 on it.” He said pointing to the roman numeral on the front but Gaia shook her head.

The door opened to the temple and Indra trotted in, looking at the still sealed bunker. “I’m sorry but we have to go. You should’ve brought more guns.” She told them, blaming their lack of guns as the problem.

“Then move your army into position.”

“I will not give up the tower for the tower and a door you cannot open.” Indra bit back at Jaha. Kane stepped in their squabble, suggesting coming back later but Jaha reminded him there wasn’t time and insisted he was staying and Monty vowed to stay as well.

“Maybe we are not worthy.” Gaia pointed out. “Maybe we are meant to burn in Praimfaya.”

“No.” Jaha disagreed. “We’re not meant to burn. We were meant to rise from the ashes.” He argued with the phrase, believing this wasn’t the end for them.

“Wait.” Everyone looked to Monty, the boy looking like he was onto something as they pressed him. “’From the ashes, we will rise.’ What if it’s not just a motto?” No one knew what to say. “What if it’s an instruction?”

Jaha looked to the fire next to the bunker, telling Monty to put the seal in the fire and he did. The fire turned a bright pink and everyone was taken back, shocked as they saw the metal start to melt away. Jaha covered the fire, snuffing out the fire before pulling away the cover to reveal the key.

“The 12th seal.” He whispered, sharing looks with everyone before he picked it up carefully, bringing it over and placing it into the lock. It fit perfectly and Jaha started turning the key giving them an entrance into the bunker. Indra turned to her guard standing by the door and told him to guard the temple rather than the tower and the 5 of them made their way inside.

The bunker was intact, no blood-covered walls like the last time, no skeletons standing guard, no signs of the bunker failing.

The bunker was your people's chance to live.

“Salvation lies within.”

A/N: Finally posted! Am I right? Okay, tell me what you think pretty please! I live on feedback and validation and it means the world to know your opinions!

Tags are open! Please send an ask instead of a comment asking!

Let me know if I’m missing someone?

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#Bellamy Blake x Reader #Bellamy Blake imagine #Bellamy Blake #Bellamy Blake series #The 100 x Reader #The 100 imagine #The 100 #The 100 series #Banished #banished part 53 #Banished new part #part 53

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bittercoldbrew · 3 years

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Well, geeze, this got outta hand... I blame @silverwolf319 for being so kind and encouraging and joining me in the little spoon!Ezra club even though he’s technically a big spoon in this one, but I think it still qualifies. Thank you, darling 💕

In theory this is a follow-up to my earlier Ezra/OC oneshot (which is, in theory, a follow-up to my finished story, To Build Something New), but I think they can be read independently, or in any order you please. Here we’ve got about 5k words of just the softest fluff I think I’ve ever written, Cee and Ezra and his unnamed partner with she/her pronouns, building a blanket fort together when the rain keeps them all up at night. This briefly gets a teensy bit saucier than the other one did, so I’m asking to keep this one 18+ only, please and thanks, friends. No other warnings, just an absurd amount of established relationship sweetness here. Enjoy!

Most nights, she loves the skylight above their bed, loves the view of the vast and glorious expanse of space beyond the meager atmosphere of this dwarf planet that has become so dear to her—loves, too, the occasional brush of willowy branches against the glass from the big tree outside, when the wind is up. After so very many years spent floating through the galaxy aboard slingbacks and freighters, she needs this glimpse of the heavens just as much as she needs the reminder of the solid ground beneath her feet. Even now, more than two years spent as a resident of Aphelia, she still has horrid dreams of hull breaches and micrometeoroids and hairline cracks, and often it helps to wake and watch for lazy clouds drifting by or those familiar leaves or the rare nightbird, proof that there is a sky here, hugging her close to the crust of the planet she’s made her own and promising to never let her be sucked out into the void.

Tonight, however, and the storm it has brought, offer far more proof than she would ever need. The wind howls; branches thrash and snap into the air; rain pelts harsh rhythms against the glass; and the sky is so full up with clouds that she can’t find a single soothing glimmer of any stars beyond.

The man in bed beside her, with his steady breaths and radiant warmth, the gentle weight of his arm across her belly, should be more than comfort enough. Ezra is not often an easy sleeper, but he can be a deep one under the right circumstances, and if she were a sensible woman she'd cuddle up against his chest and let the sweet thrumming of his tender heart lull her back to sleep.

She puts on a good show, she'll admit; but she is not often as sensible as people seem to believe.

Feeling guilty, yet restless, she creeps out from under his loose hold and to the edge of the bed. Light flashes overhead, followed closely by a deep groan of thunder, and she freezes halfway to her feet and glances over her shoulder to make sure it hasn’t woken him. But no, his eyes are still closed, those pretty dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, though a slight frown now creases his brow. He buries his face deeper into the pillow with a soft grumble, and she releases her held breath and stands and creeps around the bed and out into the hall—taking one of the spare blankets with her, of course.

She has some vague thoughts of decaffeinated tea and chocolate bars, maybe a dip into that carton of ripe berries in the refrigeration unit if Ezra hasn’t eaten them all by now, but her weary feet can’t seem to carry her that long way to the kitchen and she all but collapses onto the couch, instead. Ridiculous, she thinks, that she can feel this exhausted and this wired simultaneously. There’s been a stomach bug getting passed around at work, one she’s somehow managed to dodge thus far—both a blessing and a curse, because it’s meant that she’s been picking up extra shifts left and right. Tomorrow—technically today, she confirms after a quick glance at the time—is supposed to be her first day off in a tenday and a half, and she’s been so looking forward to finally having time to unwind and spend with her little family. Given the way her pulse keeps jumping with every crash of lightning and rattle of windows, she’s going to spend the day catching up on lost sleep, instead.

Cursing herself, her anxiety, and the weather—not necessarily in that order—she curls up against the arm of the couch and tucks the blanket under her chin, contents herself to a night spent merely hoping for sleep to come.

The storm is...beautiful, she has to admit, viewed through the front room’s wide windows. Dark as it is, there’s enough sheet lightning to paint the sky in grayish purples and greens, and the ribbons of rain seem to dance in the wind. They do have a DTV in here, but the signal isn’t great even on the clearest of days, and the serials streaming in the overnight public blocks are nothing but trash. The storm, for all its insolence, is likely to be far more entertaining.

She loses track of how long she sits there, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting against the back of the couch, until she hears the low rasp of her name and turns to find Ezra shuffling into the room. His hair is mussed, his chest bare, patched and tattered sleep pants riding tantalizingly low on lean hips; but his eyes are only half-open, hand and attention occupied as he hitches his prosthesis up over the liner that insulates his limb remnant, and seals it into place. There’s a soft hiss, and then a gentle whirr as the delicate machinery twitches synthetic finger and wrist and elbow joints, cycling through its startup flexibility test.

While it’s busy, Ezra rests his left arm on the back of the couch, and leans over to place a slow and sleepy kiss to her lips. “Hey, you,” he sighs.

“Hey, you,” she answers, mouth spreading up into a smile as she lifts a hand to smooth along his jaw. “I’m sorry; did I wake you?”

“Nah, the storm did,” he tells her, and though he’s not the sort of man to lie to her, she’s not entirely sure she believes him. “Mind if I sit with you a while?”

“I’d love that.” Kevva only knows why they’re whispering, with the storm crashing so loudly around them, but it feels right, here in the dark—especially when he comes around and settles in close beside her. She unwinds the blanket and drapes it over them both, and he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his warmth. He smells a bit like derma-cream, but she’s grown so accustomed to the tangy blend of menthol and citrus that it mostly just smells like home, and she all but melts into him.

“How long you been awake, starlight?” he asks, keeping his voice low and gentle, and she sighs and shakes her head.

“Never fell asleep in the first place. I got up, oh...” She lifts her gaze, checking the time that floats into view, courtesy of her optical implant. “An hour ago, maybe?”

He squeezes her tight, and she can hear the frown in his voice as he asks, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

She kisses his shoulder—there’s a little cream there, too, and it makes her lips tingle for a brief moment. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t wanna interrupt.”

He huffs, dipping his head to meet her eyes. “You know you’re more important, babygirl. Besides...” he trails off, lifting an unsubtle eyebrow, “you know how much I love sendin’ you to sleep.”

She snorts a laugh, shakes her head. “You’re a selfless man.”

“I’m just eager to help,” he says, grinning, and she laughs again.

“You’re eager for something, I’ll grant you that.” The grin broadens, his cheek dimpling, and she considers the offer. It’s tempting, that’s for sure—she’s been working so much, hasn’t had much time or energy to indulge in the pleasure he’s always so willing to give her. She’s missed him, missed the sweet words that fall from his lips as he comes undone for her, missed the way he fills her just right, as though his body was made for hers, and hers for his.

But the idea of just the walk from the couch to the bedroom seems a little insurmountable right now, even for such a delectable reward. She doesn’t think her body can get any more exhausted than it already is, with or without his best efforts, and sleep hasn’t blessed her yet; and he’d put his arm on which means he’d expected to be awake for a while, hadn’t really planned on taking her back to bed so soon. With a sigh, she tucks her face into the crook of his neck, and shakes her head softly. “Thank you...but I think I’d just like to listen to the rain a little longer.”

He nods, hugging her close and resting his cheek against her hair. “That sounds just fine to me.”

Ezra gives her so many reasons to love him, and this is no exception—how willing he is to set aside his own desires for hers, how he always seems to know when she wants to be wooed and persuaded into bed versus when she just wants to be close to him without interference, even of the pleasurable kind.

She’s never been as skilled with words as he is, has no idea how to really verbalize such a feeling, but she breathes against his neck, “I love you so much, Ez,” and hopes it might suffice, for now.

He rubs her back, presses a kiss to the top of her head, murmurs, “I love you too, baby,” into her hair, his soft voice full of so much tenderness that she thinks he understands everything she’s ever left unsaid.

A boom of thunder splits the night, so close it seems to happen before the blinding flash, and they both jump. Ezra pulls away, squeezes her shoulder. “I’m gonna...go check that out,” he tells her, and she nods as he heaves himself to his feet and crosses the room to peer through the window.

She twists around to try and watch as he moves away from the glass and heads into the kitchen, beyond her view. An instant later, she hears the back door slide open, a strong draft and sharp whistle of wind blowing into the house before it closes again. “Ezra?” she calls, but there’s no response, so she assumes he’s gone outside to investigate, and waits with bated breath for him to return.

A minute later, he does, with another rush of wind; then he comes striding back around the corner, rubbing at his wet hair with a dish towel and looking far more awake and alert than he had before. “Looks like there’s a tree down in the back,” he announces, shaking his head. “Not one of ours, though, and I didn’t see a lick of flame. Too wet out there, I reckon.”

She puffs out a breath, and nods her head. “That’s a relief.”

“Mm-hm,” he agrees, dragging the towel over his face and down his neck and across his broad, glistening chest. Her hands suddenly itch to grab the towel from him and finish the job herself (possibly with her tongue, perhaps, fuck the towel, why do they even have towels?), the sight of him enough to cause her mind and libido to make a stark course correction from where she’d just said she wanted this night to lead, and she opens her mouth to make those intentions clear.

Before she can, another voice speaks up. “Did you guys hear that?”

Twisting back the other way, she turns and spots Cee stepping into the room, one hand rubbing at her tired eyes, the other holding her beloved plush Puzu doll against her stomach. “Aww, not you, too,” she calls, propping her chin on the back of the couch and offering the girl a sympathetic smile.

“We didn’t wake you, did we, little bird?” Ezra asks, slinging the towel over his shoulder with a sheepish expression on his face.

“Pretty sure it was the sky exploding that did it,” the teenager says dryly, shaking her head. “Planets are weird.”

“They are indeed,” he agrees, glancing from his daughter to his partner with a broad grin. Of the three of them, she is the de facto expert on planets, having resided on one for the longest and most recent stretch of time—but that was almost twenty years ago, now, so she isn’t entirely convinced it should count.

Shaking her head, she hauls herself up off the couch and stretches her arms up above her head, feeling something pop along her spine. “Well,” she sighs, turning to face them with her hands on her hips. “Why don’t I make us some cocoa, then, before we lose power or something?”

They both seem thrilled by the prospect, and she makes her way into the kitchen with a smile, taking only a slight detour to trail her fingers along the cooled, damp skin of Ezra’s back as she passes him by. There will be opportunity enough, later, for her hands to have their fill of him. They might all end up sleeping the day away after this storm finally passes, so for now she’s going to make the most of this time to spend with them.

Her hot chocolate recipe, perfected over the course of many years of sleepless nights, has become something of a ritual now that she has these two beloved people to make it for; she falls into it without conscious thought, toasting cardamom pods and a cinnamon stick in the saucepan before adding milk, then chopping up a bar of the good chocolate to stir in once it’s warm enough. The storm still rages loudly, and she can only just make out the cadence and timbre of Cee’s and Ezra’s voices as they discuss something in the other room, and she lets the sounds wash over her as she grabs a foil-wrapped parcel of popcorn and sets it on the other burner to pop, marveling at how surreal yet mundane it feels, to have a family—something she’d never even dreamed of for herself, before she met these two.

She’s poking around in the pantry, checking to see if there are any other tasty treats to munch on, when the sound of heavy furniture creaking along the floor—and their resulting laughter—reaches her ears and makes her question all those warm and fuzzy feelings. She leans back, trying to catch sight of what’s going on over there, and calls, “What’re you two up to?”

“Nothin’!” Ezra answers, far too quickly for her comfort, and she frowns and takes a step that way.

But then Cee calls back, “It’s a surprise! No peeking!”

“Fine! Fine,” she mutters, shaking her head but turning back. She’s pretty sure, now, what they’re doing, but resolves not to interfere in the creative process unless they ask for it.

Besides, she has snacks to prepare.

She whips up a few peanut butter sandwiches, crusts on and sliced into triangles, in case anyone’s really hungry—they’ll make for a quick lunch tomorrow, if not—and grabs the last few handfuls of berries out of the fridge as well. Tossing one into her mouth, the sweet, sharp juice bursts along her tongue as she dumps the popcorn into a big bowl and pointedly ignores the sounds of bedroom doors opening and something heavy being dragged down the hall. She fills the kettle with water and heats that, too, just in case they do lose power tonight and someone decides they want tea or something before it comes back; with a couple towels draped on top, it should stay warm enough until morning.

The milk is ready, so she scoops out the spices and whisks in the chocolate and ladles up three mugs, then arranges them and all the food into one of the fruit crates Ez brings home from Kikur, and calls, “Can I come in yet?”

“Just—hang on a tick,” he grunts, and she can hear a bit of scuffling. Then, Cee’s voice, “Okay, it’s ready!”

Already smiling, she hefts up the crate and heads over to see what they’ve made of the front room.

The coffee table has disappeared entirely; the couch has been moved back against the wall, its seats and pillows removed to serve as cushions atop Cee’s mattress, relocated from her bedroom to the floor. The floor lamp was taken from its usual corner to stand at the foot of the mattress, and two big bedsheets have been clothespinned together and draped over its lampshade and tucked behind the back of the couch, forming a canopy to cover their heads while still giving them a view of the windows and the rain beyond.

Ezra has changed into a dry pair of sweatpants and one of the soft sweaters she tends to steal from his wardrobe when he’s away. He clicks on the lamp, bathing the space inside in a warm, cloth-dampened glow; then he takes a step back and surveys their work with his hands on his hips and a serious expression, as though it were something far more architecturally complex than a cozy blanket fort. “You know, I think this is our best one yet.”

She sets the crate down gently, careful not to spill anything, and crosses her arms with an appraising air. “You know, I think you might be right...” she says, nodding her head slowly. “We better get in it, just to be sure.”

Laughing, Cee tosses her stuffed animal inside and clambers in first. She follows after the girl, settling in among the soft cushions and warm blankets with a sigh, amazed at how well the lightweight sheets muffle the harsh noise of the raging storm.

Ezra doesn’t join them just yet, instead crouching down to investigate the contents of the crate. “What is all this, starlight?” he asks, lifting up and passing over the mugs of chocolate and bowl of popcorn. “You made us a feast.”

“Just some snacks, to tide us over. Hey, no, you give that to us,” she reprimands, seeing him prying open the carton of berries. “Don’t even think about it.”

The man is a berry-eating fiend, just inhales the things like some sort of confused anteater gone frugivore. If she takes her eyes off him for one second with that carton in his possession, they’ll all be gone before she and Cee ever get a chance.

Even with her staring him down, he pops three into his mouth at once; but then he does, begrudgingly, hand the rest over, so she allows this transgression and snatches them up and passes the carton into Cee’s hands for safekeeping.

“You’re so mean to me,” he grumbles, even as he rests the plate of sandwiches she made on top of the mattress and stuffs one wedge into his mouth, finally moving past the lamp and under the canopy to settle against the cushions beside her.

“You need to learn how to share,” she scolds, taking the bitten-off piece of sandwich from his mouth and biting into it herself.

“Ew, no,” Cee groans. “If you two are gonna be gross, you’ll be banished from the fort.”

"Sorry, boss," she tells her, genuinely chastened.

Ezra nods his head, settling his expression into something solemn. "She's harsh, but fair."

Then, in a flash, he snatches back the last corner of bread and peanut butter and shoves it in his mouth, shattering the moment and sending them all into fits of laughter, too giddy from the lateness of the hour and the lack of sleep and the spontaneity of finding themselves all huddled together like this to ever be able (or willing) to reign in their shared mirth.

They giggle and tease each other and snack, mouths going sticky with peanut butter and chocolate, fingertips smeared with butter and salt and berry juice, even as the wind howls and the rain beats down on the roof. Here, under their makeshift tent, the three of them are warm and content and safe, and she doesn’t think she’s ever been so happy to have found herself unable to fall asleep.

Cee is not often very physically affectionate, but she turns into a real cuddlebug when tired, and tonight is no exception. The older woman wraps her arms around the teenager’s shoulders and hugs her close, the Puzu plush tucked between them.

Beside her, Ezra tosses the last of the berries into his mouth and heaves a slow, satisfied sigh. “Did I ever tell you two about the time I met a ghost? Was a night just like this one.”

The girls look at each other, sharing matching dubious glances. “No, you haven’t,” Cee says, voice dry as bone. “And no, you definitely didn’t.”

“Swear it on my good arm!” he proclaims, laying his prosthetic hand over his heart, and it is utterly impossible to tell if the expression on his face is genuine or not. “Even know whose specter it was; I described his face to my crew after they found me, and one of the old timers said, ‘Why, that was Long Richard Johnson!’”

His captive audience squawk similar, wordless sounds of protest—she’s certain there’s never been such a man with such a name, let alone a spirit of the same.

But Ezra’s eyebrows shoot up with surprise, and he pushes himself up on his elbows to gape at them. “What? You never heard the legend of Ol’ Long Dick?”

“Stop,” Cee groans, tossing a handful of popcorn at his face, but he shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face as he really starts to delve into the role of storyteller.

“No, no, I’m not— This is not just a me thing, this an honest-to-Kevva prospector’s legend. He was one of the greats, the first independent contractor to ever set foot on the Green.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, still disbelieving, but resting her cheek atop Cee’s head to listen. With or without any kernel of truth, this is bound to be an interesting tale, at least.

“I mean it! He was the first to reject allegiance to any of the corps; and they let ‘im, too, because no one else, before or since, could suss out those gems like he could. He was a master of the Green Moon; they say he was the first to locate the Queen’s Lair, but he refused to mark it on any map or tell anyone where it was, knew the corps were too greedy and bloodthirsty to ever be trusted with such knowledge. They say he hired a private ship to sneak him out there without their purview, determined to harvest it all his own self, but there was some engine trouble and he never did make it. They say he’s buried up at the top of the Green’s highest peak, with a headstone that reads, ‘Here lies Long Dick Johnson, who earned every inch of his name’.”

“You’re a menace,” she gasps, pelting him with more popcorn, because she’d almost started believing him until that last bit.

But he only laughs and shakes his head, plucking popcorn out of his own hair and tossing it in his mouth. “I’m only relaying what I myself have been told, any deviations from the truth are someone else’s doing.”

“And this ‘ghost’ you saw?” Cee asks, making exaggerated air quotes with a skeptical look on her face.

“Ah, now, that is my tale to tell.” He leans in and props his chin in his hand, voice lowering to a whisper as he begins, “It was a night just like this one...”

He weaves a tapestry with his words, painting a picture for them of himself as a (somewhat) fresher-faced kip, new to the moon above Bakhroma, having contracted out his able body and his rundown ship to a crew of grizzled prospectors, in exchange for training on how to harvest the dazzling gems and a reasonable cut of their earnings. All had gone accordingly, until they found themselves caught in one of the moon’s rare, but devastating, rainstorms, and had to stay cooped up inside the ship, unable to harvest and unable to relocate lest the ship get struck by lightning midair and leave them stranded there permanently. So instead he spent his days learning complicated board games with made-up rules using bits and pieces of supplies they had lying around, letting his ears be filled with raucous stories of days and prospectors gone by.

And then, late one night, he’d been shaken awake by a man he’d thought to be one of the crew, dragged from his bunk and shuffled into his suit and helmet and filter and pack. He’d only briefly tried to hesitate, to wake the others, but the man had grabbed him and growled, “There’s no time, boy—move, or you’ll miss it.” So, only half awake and unable to think straight, he’d obeyed without question and followed him out the airlock.

He had stumbled in the dark, in the mud, in the rain and wind, still relatively new to this and unaccustomed to the bulky suit, and by the time he realized that the only reason he could follow at all was because the man leading him was glowing—luminous and stark and visible even through the sheeting rain and dust and muck that clouded his helmet—they were too far from the ship for him to ever have any hope of making it back on his own. He’d had no choice but to plod along after the ghost, for hours, maybe, until finally the figure stopped and pointed at his feet and commanded, “Dig.”

And then, without a whole lotta options otherwise, he had obeyed.

Eventually, the storm passed, and the light dawned, and his crew must’ve noticed his empty bunk and followed the single track of stumbling footprints until they found him where he’d fallen asleep in the shallow gouge he’d carved in the dirt, still clutching his shovel.

They accused him of sleepwalking, of cabin fever, of dipping into the good hooch behind their backs—all without malice, really, but certainly refusing to believe any claim of spectral visions. At least, that was, until one of the men looked down, and realized that the thing at his feet wasn’t, in fact, a large clump of dirt, but an aurelac root nodule the size of a small child.

“To this day, that was my finest single harvest,” he admits, shaking his head slowly. “The crew gave me a heartier cut than promised, and still all had enough to retire off of. Not me, though; from that day on, I was hooked. Sunk my savings in a newer ship and sought out another crew and kept goin’ back, always hoping to see him again, to pull another fabled haul.”

She nods her head, unsure of what she could possibly have to say to that, but she can so vividly imagine how such an experience would inspire a man like him, would spur him on to the sort of life he’s led. So she says nothing, simply lays a hand against his cheek, letting the edge of her thumb rest in the dimple that creases his cheek as he blinks and tears his gaze away from the past to smile at her instead.

He turns his head, presses his lips to her palm with a sweet kiss, and nods toward the teenager resting against her shoulder. “How long’s she been out?”

“Hm?” she asks, surprised, and looks down to find that he’s right, that the girl’s eyes are firmly closed, her chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. “Oh,” she whispers, scared to wake her, “I didn’t even notice.”

His breathy laugh is quiet, a chuckle kept mostly inside his chest, and he nods his head and says, “Let’s not wake her. She can sleep out here, don’t you think?”

“I—” she tries, but the words are stifled by a deep yawn that causes tears to prick at the corners of her eyes; she brushes them away, offers him a sheepish smile. “I think I might join her.”

His grin is brilliant as he nods again, leans in for a quick kiss, then pulls back and starts gathering up the empty mugs and half-eaten popcorn and sandwiches. “How about we all stay, hm? I’ll put these away.”

“Here, I can help—” she starts, but he catches her reaching hand in his and shakes his head.

“I got it, baby. You stay here with her, yeah? I’ll be back soon.”

She nods, rubbing at her eye again, the exhaustion of the past two weeks finally catching up with her. “You promise?”

Ezra kisses her again, warm, soft lips lingering in a way that steals her breath away, leaves her lightheaded and a little dazed when he pulls back and whispers, “I promise.”

She settles deeper into the cushions as he quietly gathers up the dishes and food and the few errant popcorn kernels they’d thrown at him, and slips out from the blanket fort. It’s immediately colder in there without his warmth, emptier without his familiar weight beside her, and she hugs Cee a little tighter as she listens to the fridge opening and closing, the faucet turning on and off, his footsteps drawing near then moving past and away down the hall to the bedroom. Above it all, the sound of the rain against the roof has settled into a steadier, gentler thrum, the booming thunder and frightful wind moving on to rattle someone else’s windows.

When Ezra returns, clicking off the lamp and crawling under the canopy to slide in beside her, he has removed his prosthetic arm—never fond of sleeping with it on—and brought the heavy quilt from atop their bed along with him. She helps him spread it out over all three of them, making sure Cee is tucked in snug while he settles in and wraps his arm around her waist.

He rests his chin on her available shoulder, his whispered words a warm brush of breath on her skin as he asks, “What’d you think of my story?”

“I think it was...effective at making us all sleepy.”

He huffs a laugh, rubs his nose against her cheek. “Alright, sure, but did you believe it?”

She grins in the dark, even though she knows he can’t see it. “I believe that you believe it,” she allows.

His lips, pressing against her skin, curl up into a smile, and the warmth of it works its way deep into her heart and radiates from there to the top of her head and the tips of her toes. His hand slips beneath her shirt, palm spreading along her belly—not teasing, not suggesting anything more than a blatant desire to touch as much of her as he can. “That’s more than enough for me,” he sighs, achingly content.

She nods her head in agreement; and in these last few instants of consciousness before sleep finally claims her, she thinks that this moment, snuggled close between the two best people in the known universe, safe and warm from any storm, is more than enough for her, too.

#god this is so self-indulgent i really have no excuse #maybe someday i will write about something other than these three. but no promises #little spoon!Ezra #(on a technicality)#ezra prospect x oc #ezra prospect x reader #to build something new #theres a line in here that made me laugh when i wrote it and makes me laugh every time i read it again #i wonder if you all can spot it lol #real yearning hours #silverwolf319 #my writing

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