#this chapter is a really good one bois! :D

[lordofthenerds97]

IM SCREAMING

So I legit thought there was finna be a forehead smooch here omg

First of all

I love Booker, he is amazing and I would love to see Goldie in command of him and his unit all the time

I love her interactions with the clones so much. And how she feels about them. She treats them like people, not objects. It’s so important to her that they know how valued they are…and that lil healing trick, even if it wasn’t the same thing she did for Rex, showed Booker the type of General and Jedi she is

I’m absolutely cackling at Wise(ass) and his bedside manner.

“What, were you hoping for something else? Like a kiss, maybe?”

The absolute sarcasm and Bookers, “That was practically a marriage proposal.” I’m in tears I’m laughing so hard omg

I’m wheezing

This episode truly killed me tho, I sob every time I see 99 😭😭😭😭

The move with the ship tho? Hella smart. You say you hate writing action but damn you’re good at it!

I like how there wasn’t a huge concentration on the battle itself or strategizing; we got to see Goldie in action but we also got a good glimpse inside her head and what was going on up there throughout the fight. This chapter was honestly such a fantastic read and one of my favorites to date, just because of how well everything flows and how flawlessly it all fits together

And Booker’s admission that she actually kinda intimidated them? His reluctance to leave her? Cause he ALREADY knows the girl is trouble. He’s already duty bound to her and I would love to see more of them working together

Let’s talk about Rex, baby

Babygirl

He is babygirl

He was looking for her

Obviously, he would be doing that at some point. But the intensity? That was something else, in a good way, and kinda blew me away. The emotions were so raw and so real, and he totally forgot that his brothers were in the room with him. He barely managed to restrain himself from touching her, which she solved for him, assuring him that she was really there and really alive

She could feel him in the Force, she knew he was okay. Me sticking (as always) with the theory that Rex is Force Sensitive, he wouldn’t know how to channel that…he wouldn’t know how to look for her or what her signature feels like. He needs that tangible proof in front of him that she’s alive and okay. Being the Good Soldier™️ that he is, he held himself back until they were sort of alone, but Goldie immediately recognized that he needed that assurance and needed her to ground him. She didn’t care who saw, she let him know she was there. Amazing. Beautiful. Chefs kiss.

That little episode in the hallway alcove? The hug? The fact he was the one to initiate it? Boy is in D E E P, and there’s no getting out

And he had absolutely every right to need a minute after that battle, and after thinking, even for a moment, that he might’ve lost her

Like I said I was kinda expecting a little forehead smooch BUT HE BROKE REGULATION AND GAVE HER HIS COMM 😭😭😭😭😭😭 that might be even better

AND THE IMMEDIATE MESSAGE STAY SAFE?????

Sobbing

This was phenomenal Roy, I can’t wait for more!!

Event Horizon

Chapter Seventeen: Downpour

Chapter WC: 12,129

Chapter Tags/Warnings: battle stuff, kinda angsty but compared to last chapter this is nothing

A/N: Once again there is a lot going on here. 💀 I've been looking forward to posting this chapter for ages, so I hope you enjoy!

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Kamino, 21 BBY

It's raining. Of course it's raining. 

You can't even remember a time you were on Kamino that it wasn't. It's a strange world, a planet of extremes. Cold, wet, and miserable. And yet, there's a beauty to it. The way the waves crash against the buildings, the roar of the wind, the smell of the salt water.

It's been over a month since the siege of Null, and you haven't been able to rest. Not truly. Your mind has been racing, the memory of finding Yaddle's things haunting your every waking moment.

You haven't slept for longer than an hour or two at a time, and even when you do manage to fall asleep, the nightmares are worse. The severing you felt the moment she died finds you in your sleep, but it's not her death, it's Rex's. Or Obi-Wan's. Or Anakin's. Or Ahsoka's. They're dead, and it's because of you. Because you weren't strong enough, or fast enough, or smart enough.

And the dreams always end the same.

With the severed bond, with the loss, with the anguish.

It's not fair, and you're angry, but more than that, you're frustrated. You can't bring the evidence to the Council's attention without requesting a hearing, and the Council seems content with keeping you away from Coruscant. They've been keeping you too busy, assigning the 212th to a dozen missions, never allowing you to have a moment's peace. 

And, you can't help but wonder if it's because they know. If they know what you have. It's irrational, of course, but the anxiety won't stop gnawing at you, the worry growing by the day.

As a result, you've become increasingly paranoid, and you're constantly checking your belongings, checking the box underneath your bed aboard the Negotiator, making sure everything is where it should be. Obi-Wan's noticed, of course, but he's too occupied with his own inner turmoil over what happened with Duchess Satine to worry too much about yours.

Cody's noticed too, but he's been kind enough not to say anything. You suspect Rex has told him to leave it alone, which you're grateful for. You don't have the energy to explain yourself, not when there's so much else to worry about.

And right now, there is plenty to worry about.

"Sir, look out!"

A trooper in a full white kit grabs your arm and yanks you back just as a stray bolt nearly clips you in the head. You stumble backwards, landing hard on your ass, and you blink, trying to clear the rain from your eyes.

A pair of hands grab you, pulling you to your feet.

"Sorry, sir," the trooper apologizes. His helmet obscures his face, but you can tell he's embarrassed. "Didn't mean to manhandle you."

"It's alright," you assure him. "Better than getting shot in the head."

He nods and returns his attention to the firefight, raising his rifle and squeezing off a round. The droid at the far end of the platform drops, a smoking hole in its chest, and the trooper lets out a satisfied grunt before turning back to you.

"Stay close. I'll cover you," he says, and he moves past you into the chaos. You blink, trying to process what just happened, but then the sound of blaster fire reaches your ears, and you duck, your senses snapping back into focus.

The two of you weave through the melee, the air thick with the acrid stench of smoke and the metallic tang of blaster fire. It's slow going, and the shots are coming fast and thick. More than once, the trooper has to grab you and pull you to the ground, the heat of a bolt singing your ear.

You're starting to feel frustrated, and embarrassed. You should be able to handle yourself better. You've been trained since birth to deal with these situations. And yet, here you are, relying on some poor shiny to drag you around like a baby.

It's shameful.

A blast comes from above, and you throw up a hasty shield, deflecting the energy bolt. The trooper ducks, hissing, and you reach out with the Force, yanking him behind a twisted heap of droid parts at the same time as you shove the sniper off the roof.

"Sorry," you say as you land hard next to him, your knees screaming in protest. "Normally, I'm better at this."

"At what? Being shot at?"

You huff. "Being a Jedi."

The trooper laughs, and then turns and leans around the pile of scrap, firing his rifle. "I don't know, General. Seems like you're doing just fine to me."

"That's...generous of you," you mutter. You lean back, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

It's not easy to focus. Everything is chaos. Screams, explosions, blaster fire. The time you all had to prepare for the siege had not been nearly enough, and the blockade had been brutal. By the time you'd arrived on the planet, the battle was already in full swing. 

You and Cody had only just managed to land before the shuttle had been forced to evacuate, and while he had rushed off to secure the barracks with Rex, you were tasked with defending the training facility with a contingent of newly trained clones. They were an interesting bunch, a little wild and eager, but they knew how to fight, and you'd seen them cut down more droids than their fair share. 

You just hoped that would be enough.

Droids were rising from the ocean like the living dead, and they were everywhere, a sea of metal, their red eyes flashing in the storm. There's little cover on the open platform, and the clones are doing their best to hold their ground, but they're being pushed back, the droids overwhelming them.

"This is fucking insane," the trooper growls, and you glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry, sir."

"Don't worry about it," you chuckle. "I've heard worse."

He huffs and shakes his head, and then he raises his blaster and fires off another round at the same time as you pop up and throw your shoto in a wide arc. The yellow streak cuts through the air and collides with a pair of battle droids, severing clean through their torsos, the halves clattering to the ground.

"Nice shot," the trooper grunts. You look over at him and grin as you catch the blade, but it fades when you notice his hand clutching his arm, his armor charred and cracked.

"You're hurt," you gasp, reaching out, but he pulls away.

"It's nothing," he insists, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

"Let me see," you press.

He sighs, but he releases his arm, allowing you to examine the wound. The flesh is scorched, but it's not deep. You can't risk applying bacta, not in the middle of a battle, but you can ease the pain, at least.

You place your hand on his arm, and he jerks, his helmet whipping towards you. You meet his gaze and try to smile reassuringly.

"Just relax," you tell him. "It won't hurt."

He hesitates, but then he nods, and he lets out a slow breath. You close your eyes and focus, the Force flowing through you, into him. It's the same technique you used to heal Rex's injury on Null, but the effect is more temporary, the tissue healing slower than usual. You're sure that if Rex knew what you were doing, he'd have a few choice words, but you don't care. These men are under your command, and it's your duty to protect them. Even if that means pushing your own limits.

"Wow," the trooper murmurs. He rolls his arm, flexing his fingers, a note of awe in his voice. "How did you do that?"

You shrug. "I have my ways."

"Very mysterious, sir," he teases, and you roll your eyes. He peers around the pile of scrap, and then turns back to you, his shoulders slumping. "Not gonna lie, this isn't looking good."

"No, it's not," you agree. You take a deep breath, your hands resting on your knees. You feel lightheaded, and a little woozy. Healing him took more out of you than you expected.

"You're not doing so great either," the trooper observes, and you blink, turning to him.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not doing so great," he repeats. He cocks his head, and then adds, "Sir."

You can't help but snort at that, and the two of you share a chuckle. It feels good to laugh, to find a moment of levity in the chaos. The trooper may have been a little awkward and blunt, but you couldn't help but like him. He was refreshingly honest. Or maybe you were just a little delirious.

"Thanks," you mumble. You pause, and then look around, trying to formulate a plan. The platform is surrounded, and the droids are pouring out of the ocean faster than the clones can shoot them down. You've never been great at strategy, but you've survived this long. You're going to have to rely on instinct. And hope.

You raise your blades and stand, a grim determination settling over you.

"Stay close," you say, and the trooper rises to his feet, his blaster at the ready. "We're going to break their ranks."

"Sir, yes, sir."

You nod, and the two of you leap out from behind the pile of scrap, launching yourselves into the fray. For a few moments, everything is a blur. You lose yourself in the movement, the familiar weight of your weapons in your hands. It's a dance, really, the steps as natural as breathing. You duck, dodge, spin, strike, parry, thrust, and repeat. The droids fall before you, their metal limbs scattering across the platform, but it's still not enough.

"We have to fall back," you shout. "Get the wounded into the building and seal the doors. We'll regroup and formulate a plan."

The trooper nods, and he signals the men, repeating your orders. A moment later, they're retreating, falling back to the safety of the training facility. You hold the rear, deflecting shot after shot, the lightning crackling overhead, the wind roaring in your ears. The droids are relentless, and their shots are becoming more accurate. One hits a clone in front of you, and he falls to the ground, his body limp.

"Grab him," you call out. Another bolts grazes your pauldron, and you flinch, nearly tripping over a severed droid arm at your feet. "Hurry!"

The troopers haul their fallen comrade, and they rush back into the training facility, the doors sealing behind them. The one who had saved your life before remains at your side, and together, the two of you hold the line, keeping the droids from breaching the entrance. But, even with your combined efforts, the droids are still advancing, and they're quickly gaining ground.

The rain is coming down hard, and the wind is blowing it sideways, soaking through your clothes and chilling you to the bone. You grit your teeth, and continue deflecting shots, the droids' numbers seeming endless. If only Obi-Wan was here. He'd have thought of something clever, something that would have turned the tide in your favor. You, however, have nothing. Nothing but desperation, and anger, and fear.

A particularly well-aimed shot whizzes past your ear, and you feel the heat of it graze your cheek. Another shoots by, and another, and another. They're close, too close, and your arms are starting to tremble, your fingers slipping on the hilts of your sabers.

"Sir, come on!" the trooper urges, grabbing your arm and pulling you back toward the facility. You can barely keep up, your boots sliding on the wet ground. The doors are so close, but they're also so far.

A sudden blast rocks the platform, sending the two of you sprawling. Your sabers go flying, clattering across the duracrete, and you watch the blades deactivate, the metal growing cold and silent. The trooper groans beside you, and then he sits up, shaking his head. You can't blame him for his lack of grace. The world is spinning, and the ringing in your ears is deafening.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing yourself up. You reach out with the Force and drag a crate to the side, forming a barrier between the two of you and the advancing droids. It's a flimsy shield, but it's better than nothing. You press your back against the crate and close your eyes, gathering your strength.

"I've got an idea," the trooper pants, and his voice sounds like it's coming from a million lightyears away. His helmet tilts your direction, his chest heaving. "But you're not going to like it."

"Try me," you grunt, trying to clear your vision.

He takes a deep breath and exhales, the sound sharp through the modulator. "See that downed trident ship? The one with the hole in the side?"

You turn and look, spotting the wreckage. It's close, no more than a few dozen meters away, behind the hoard of advancing droids. It's a mess of broken metal, the hull twisted and shattered, the observation portals cracked.

"Yeah, I see it," you reply, a hint of suspicion creeping into your voice.

"Can you use the Force to move it?" He pulls a grenade from his belt. "If you can bring it close enough, I can toss a popper into the hole and detonate the fuel reserves."

You stare at him, the implications dawning on you. You're not a demolitions expert, but even you know that blowing up a downed ship in the middle of a battle is a risky move. The explosion would likely cause significant damage, and the fallout could be deadly.

"Do you think you can do it?" he asks, his voice laced with urgency.

"I can do it," you reply, and the trooper gives a short nod.

"Then, let's do this," he says.

"On my mark," you say, and he nods again.

You rise and extend your hand, calling upon the Force. The moment you connect, a wave of power rushes through you, and you can feel the weight of the ship heavy in your grasp. You take a deep breath, and you start to pull, using all your strength. 

The ship groans, the metal creaking and screeching. It's heavier than you thought, and it's hard to focus with the blaster fire coming at you. You grit your teeth, and you throw every ounce of energy into the task. Slowly, the ship begins to move, its metal body scraping against the deck until it lifts into the air.

The droids don't seem to notice the trident floating above their heads, and they continue their advance, their red eyes gleaming in the storm. It's almost comical, how the metal behemoth hangs there twists in the air behind them, its tentacle-like limbs dangling beneath.

The rain is pouring now, the water streaming down your face, and your entire body is trembling, exhaustion threatening to overtake you. It's getting harder and harder to maintain control, and the ship is wavering, the hull swinging back and forth.

"I can't hold it much longer," you shout, your voice straining.

"Almost there," the trooper shouts back. His hand grips the grenade, his finger hovering over the trigger. "Just a little longer!"

You let out a cry and pull with all your might, and the ship responds, jerking forward, the tentacles swinging wildly. He presses the activator, hurling the grenade towards the hull just as it falls from your grasp. It arcs through the air, hitting the edge of the hole and bouncing inside. 

"Get down!"

The trooper grabs you and tackles you to the ground, shielding your body with his. A second later, the trident explodes, a blinding flash of light filling the sky. The shockwave is deafening, the pressure slamming into you, the heat from it hot on your skin. 

Debris rains down, the deck trembles beneath you, and the ground shifts. For a moment, you think it's about to collapse, and the two of you are going to tumble into the ocean below. But, then, everything goes still and silent.

You lay there, stunned. Your ears are ringing, and your body is aching, the pain pulsing through you. You're alive, though. And, surprisingly, uninjured.

You turn your head and glance at the trooper, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He's alive. He's alive.

The two of you are silent for a moment, and then, a chuckle escapes your lips. You can't help it, the adrenaline surging through you. He lets out a weak laugh, and you start to laugh harder, the hysteria gripping you. It's insane, all of it, and the two of you laugh until you're crying, your ribs aching, the tears mixing with the rain.

After what feels like an eternity, you manage to regain control, and you wipe the tears from your cheeks, a giddy sense of relief washing over you. The trooper pushes himself up and offers his hand, pulling you to your feet. Once you're steady, you clasp his shoulder, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"That was insane. Absolutely insane." You can't help but laugh again, the adrenaline still pumping through you. "And, I have to admit, pretty damn clever."

He chuckles and shrugs, brushing aside the compliment. "Thanks, sir. But, I can't take the credit. That was all you."

"Well, whatever. It was a team effort." You look around, the smoke from the explosion clearing, revealing the aftermath. The droids are scattered in pieces across the deck, their limbs bent and twisted. You know more will come, but for now, the platform is secure.

"You have a name, trooper?" you ask.

"CC-8411, sir," he replies. He holsters his rifle and straightens his back, a sense of pride in his stance. "Though my brothers call me Booker."

"A commander, huh?" You tilt your head, studying him. "I should have known. You have quite the aim, Booker. Thank you for watching my back."

"Of course, sir." He shifts nervously on his feet, glancing down at the ground and back up. "And I, uh, I'm not a commander yet, sir, but I'm working on it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Booker says. He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. "Just finished my ARC training. I'm pretty good at shooting, and my scores are high. My CO's seem to think I'm ready, it's just, well, I can't get promoted unless I've had experience leading a unit."

You raise an eyebrow, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. "You don't say."

Booker clears his throat and stands at attention, his gaze straight ahead. "I'm just...I'm looking for the right opportunity, sir."

"Hm," you hum, studying him. You call your lightsabers back into your hands, and you point at him with the hilt of one. "That could be arranged."

His helmet snaps in your direction as you holster them. "Sir?"

"You said it yourself. You have the skills," you point out. "And, if your superiors think you're ready, I see no reason why we can't put you to the test. Come on."

You turn and gesture for him to follow, and the two of you make your way back into the facility, the doors opening with a hiss. The rest of the men are waiting inside, their bodies slumped against the wall, the injured being treated. When they catch sight of you, a cheer rises, and the air fills with applause.

You can't help but smirk, and you glance at Booker, giving him a wink.

"Looks like you're already popular," you tease.

"Well, what can I say?" he laughs. "I have a way with people."

"Yeah, I can see that." You stop in the center of the room and take a deep breath. "Status report."

One of the troopers steps forward, and he salutes, his helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes are wide, a mixture of awe and terror, and he swallows, trying to gather himself.

"All troopers accounted for, sir," he reports. "One casualty, but all other injuries are non-life threatening. I've sent word to the barracks, but I don't know if anyone's heard us." He looks around the room, his expression grim. "I think we're on our own, sir."

You nod. You'd expected as much. Still, it's not the news you wanted to hear.

"Very well," you say, sighing. You reach out, placing your hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Stay calm. What's your name?"

"Snap, sir," he answers.

"Well, Snap, let's do this one step at a time, okay?" You pat his arm and take a step back, taking a deep breath. "First things first. How many able men are here?"

"About forty, sir."

You bite your lip, calculating the numbers. It's not enough. Not by a long shot. But, it'll have to do.

"Alright, listen up," you declare, and the room goes silent. "We need to start clearing buildings. If we can create a clear path to the barracks, we can get our brothers the reinforcements they need. Now, the enemy is numerous, and they're well-armed, but they're also spread out. So, we're going to take advantage of that."

You pause and look at each trooper, their faces serious. Then, you turn back to Booker, giving him a nod.

"We're going to split into teams and work our way through the city, building by building, until we reach the barracks. Our goal is to clear as much ground as possible and take out as many droids as we can along the way. Commander Booker will be leading a team. I'll be taking the rest."

Booker stiffens, and he glances at you. "Sir?"

"Time to prove yourself, Commander," you tell him, and the room breaks into a flurry of excited murmurs. "I want you to lead a team through the east wing. You're a good shot. Take out as many droids as you can."

He's quiet for a moment, and then he nods, squaring his shoulders.

"You heard the General," he says as he turns back to the men, his voice firm and commanding. There's no trace of the nervousness he displayed only moments before. "Form up."

The troopers begin gathering their gear, the room filled with a newfound sense of purpose. You can't help but smile, and a wave of pride swells inside you. They may not be the most skilled fighters, but these men are brave, and they're determined. And, if the past few hours have shown you anything, it's that they're smart. They'll be fine.

Booker steps closer to you as the men move into formation, and he hesitates before pulling his helmet off, revealing a face you've seen a thousand times and a crooked smile that's all his own. His hair is dangerously close to being out of regulation for a shiny, and his eyes are bright and full of life.

"I won't let you down, sir," he vows.

"I know," you assure him, and his smile widens. "I'll see you on the other side, Commander."

He gives a final nod, and he jams his helmet back on, turning to the troopers who have assembled beside him. He barks a command, and the group disappears into the hallway. The remaining troopers turn to you, waiting for their orders.

You take a deep breath and steel yourself, feeling the weight of the battle heavy on your shoulders. You wave your hand, and the men follow you down the opposite corridor, their footsteps echoing behind you. 

The halls are quiet, the only sound the hiss of the doors opening and closing as the men file out and the rain pattering against the glass above, the droplets running down the window.

It's dark, the lights flickering, and the building feels abandoned, a shell of its former glory. There are no signs of life, no indication that anyone is left behind, and the silence is unnerving. It's almost like a ghost town. Or a tomb. But, the droids are here, lurking somewhere, and you know that the fight is far from over.

You pass through the training facility, the space littered with broken equipment and shattered glass, the droid corpses scattered throughout. There are blast marks on the walls, scorch marks on the floor, the metal dented and twisted. 

Somewhere, you know Obi-Wan is fighting General Grievous, and you pray to the Force that he succeeds. You'd never say it aloud, but you're glad it's him and not you. Not this time. He's faced the cyborg more than once before, and he's still standing. You can't say the same after your last encounter, and while the idea of having a rematch is tempting, the idea of facing that monster again terrifies you.

It's a selfish thought, and one that Obi-Wan would be disappointed in, but it's true. You're afraid. Afraid of the pain, of the horror, of the nightmares that plague you still. And, if you're honest, afraid of the darkness within yourself, the one that lingers, whispering in your ear. The one that you've barely kept at bay, but knows no bounds. You'd tempted fate once, and you'd nearly paid the price.

No, you're better off where you are, facing droids instead of demons.

"Sir," a voice interrupts, and you blink, realizing you've stopped walking. You feel a flicker of embarrassment as you look at the trooper who spoke, his helmet tilted, and you give a quick nod to speak. "We've cleared the building. No signs of life. No droids, either."

You let out a sigh, relief washing over you.

"Thank you," you say, giving him a smile. "Good work."

"Where to next?"

You consider his words, and you weigh the options. You know the barracks are in the north, and you're currently in the south. To reach them, you'll have to fight your way through the city, which is crawling with droids, and there's no telling what they have planned. They could have already taken the barracks, and you'd have no way of knowing until it was too late.

You look at the trooper, and he shifts under your gaze. "What's your name?"

"CT-4398, sir," he answers, his voice wavering slightly. "I mean, um, Dash. Sir."

You give him a small smile, trying to ease his nerves. He's young, barely out of his teens, and it's clear he's never been in the field before. "Well, Dash, what do you think?"

"Me?" he stammers. "I don't... I'm not sure..."

"It's okay," you reassure him. "Just tell me what you're thinking."

"Well, sir, I was just thinking...maybe we should check the control room," he says, gesturing down the hall. "It's just around the corner. We might be able to find out where the droids are coming from, and get some information on the barracks."

"Sounds like a plan," you say, smiling. You clap him on the shoulder. "I need you to man the control room with..." You blink, turning to the trooper next to him. "What's your name?"

"Screwball, sir," the trooper says. You try to disguise the laughter, but Screwball is already shaking his head. "Don't ask."

"Right," you drawl, and you turn back to Dash. "With Screwball. Monitor the communications. Try to raise the barracks."

Dash stares at you, and it’s only when Screwball slaps him on the back hard enough to send him stumbling forward does he finally snap out of his stupor.

"Y-yes, sir," he replies. "Understood, sir."

“I’ll watch him, sir,” Screwball adds confidently.

"Good," you say. You nod to the remaining troopers. "Let's move out."

As you continue down the corridor, you can't help but wonder if you're doing the right thing. If there's even a right thing. There's so much about this war that feels wrong, but it's still the clones, and their treatment, that trouble you the most.

They were created, not born. Taught, not raised. Molded, not nurtured. Their entire lives, they were engineered to serve, bred to fight. And, yet, there's so much more to them.

They're men, flesh and blood, and you can't help but feel responsible for their lives. These clones in particular, still so young, still so new. They've barely begun to live. To die now, here on Kamino, would be a waste. A tragic end to bright lives cut too short.

You can't allow that.

You won't.

Ahead, the corridor splits, the left leading to the control room, the right continuing on to the rest of the building. Dash and Screwball peel off, and the group continues. You're not sure what awaits you outside, but you're determined to face it. The odds are stacked against you, but so far, you've overcome the worst, and you've survived. You can do this. You can save them.

As the door slides open, and the rain batters against your face, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the battle ahead.

Booker and his squad are waiting when you finally meet up hours later, their armor drenched, their weapons hanging at their sides. You can tell they've been through the wringer, but the sight of them is a welcome relief. In fact, every single trooper on his squad is accounted for and then some — a score of fifteen men you haven’t seen before.

"I see you picked up some friends," you tease, giving him a tired smile.

Booker chuckles, and he shakes his head, his armor dripping. "A few stragglers, but I'm not complaining. Thought they might be useful."

"You thought right." You reach out and pat his shoulder, your fingers squeezing his plastoid. "Good work, Commander. I'm glad you're okay."

"I told you I wouldn't let you down," he reminds you. "Besides, it's not over yet."

He's right. You're still not even halfway through the city, and the storm is only getting worse, the waves crashing against the buildings, the wind howling.

You've cleared five buildings so far, and each one has been an ordeal. The droids are everywhere, and they're relentless. Your troops have had to fight their way through blockades, shoot down trident ships, and fend off swarms of B2s. It's been a brutal slog, and your body is exhausted, the adrenaline from the first few hours waning.

The good news is, there doesn't seem to be an endless supply of droids. The bad news is, there's still enough to pose a serious threat.

Your men have been hit hard, and more than a few have been wounded. Some are unconscious, and some are worse. Some were too injured to move, and you've done what you can to stabilize them, but the truth is, there's not much you can do. There's not enough bacta to go around, and there's no way to safely transport them.

It's a grim reality, and it's one that haunts you. Not long ago you'd felt the loss of every death, the pain and suffering washing over you. It had nearly driven you mad. Now, the feeling has faded, becoming nothing more than a dull ache. A reminder.

It's not right. None of this is right.

Your thoughts drift to Rex, and the image of his face is clear in your mind. He's alive, you can sense it. And if anyone can survive a battle, it's him, but that doesn't stop the fear from taking hold. It's irrational, and you know it, but you can't shake the dread that gnaws at you. He's the best fighter you've ever known, and he's faced death a hundred times before, and still, a part of you is terrified that this time, it'll be the last. That the nightmares you've dismissed as just that will become real again.

"You alright?" Booker asks, and you realize he's been staring at you.

You shake yourself free of the thought and look at him, a tight smile pulling at your mouth. 

"I'm fine," you mutter. You run your hand through your hair, pushing the strands away from your face, and you turn to look over the rest of the troopers. “Tell the men to rest for a moment, and then we'll make a run on the barracks. I want a headcount, and we'll need to re-evaluate the plan. I'll brief you in a moment."

"Yes, sir." Booker gives you a lingering glance before he moves away, gathering the rest of the group. As the clones begin to settle down, taking advantage of the reprieve, you find yourself wandering away from them. 

You walk away toward the edge of the platform, and your eyes scan the horizon. The lightning is still dancing across the darkened sky, a beautiful, terrifying sight. It's a reminder of the power you hold, of the power you're capable of wielding, and of the danger that lurks in the shadows.

It's also a reminder of how small you are. How insignificant.

You lift your communicator up and press the button, praying to the Force that Dash and Screwball were able to get the communications back online. When static fills your ears, followed by the voice of the young trooper, relief floods you.

"General, is that you?"

"It is," you say, leaning against the railing, the rain dripping down your face. "Status report."

"Well, uh, we haven't had any success reaching the barracks," he says, his voice shaky. "But, we did manage to restore the cameras."

"That's something, at least." You let out a sigh, and you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself. "How are we looking?"

There's a pause, and then a crackle of static. "Not great, sir."

"Define not great," you urge.

"The droids are surrounding the building, and they've got heavy artillery. Our brothers are holding them off, but the numbers are against them. At this rate, they're not going to last long."

"Shit." You open your eyes and stare into the distance, your mind racing. Dash quickly reads out the position of Obi-Wan and Anakin, both engaged in their own duels with Grievous and Ventress, and it's clear from the strain in his voice that he's barely holding it together. You need to get moving. But, the question is, where?

"Anything else?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

"The storm has caused a lot of damage," he replies, the words coming faster, almost tumbling over each other. "Several buildings have collapsed, and the waves are getting worse. The ocean is rising."

"Great," you groan, letting out a huff. "Just what we needed."

"Yeah," Dash sighs, and there's a hint of desperation in his voice. "We're running out of time."

"Stay calm," you tell him, though the words are meant for yourself. "Just keep monitoring the situation. Let me know if anything changes."

"Yes, sir," he replies.

"And, Dash? Watch out for Screwball. Don't let him do anything stupid."

"Too late," the other trooper shouts in the background.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay. Never mind."

"I'll keep him safe, sir," Dash says with a weak laugh. "Good luck."

You close the connection, and you press the communicator against your forehead, taking a deep breath. The wind whips around you, the rain pelting your body, and the thunder roars above, a cacophony of noise. It's a fitting backdrop for the moment, a reflection of the chaos inside your head. You feel the darkness stirring within, its tendrils snaking their way around your heart, and you squeeze the railing tighter, trying to resist. Trying to fight.

You've never been a good strategist, but even you can tell this is a losing battle. Even if you were to somehow manage to make it to the barracks, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to turn the tide. You'll be walking straight into a firing line, and the odds are stacked against you. Still, you have to try.

After a few more minutes of trying to hail Cody, Obi-Wan, Anakin, anyone, it becomes clear the storm is causing the communications to fail. No amount of trying is getting you through, and you're fighting a losing battle against the frustration. If only you could use the Force, but the sheer amount of energy and concentration to reach out is not something you have the strength for, not after the battles.

With a frustrated growl, you slam your commlink down, the metal casing creaking. It's a pointless action, but it does make you feel better. For a moment, at least.

"Having trouble?" a voice calls out, and you spin around, the hilt of your saber already in your hand. Booker is standing behind you, his arms folded, a smirk on his lips. "Whoa, easy. I come in peace."

You lower your lightsaber, and you shake your head, a wry smile on your lips. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"You don't have to apologize, General." He steps closer and leans against the railing, his helmet tucked under his arm. The storm is picking up, and the wind is blowing his hair in all directions, but he seems unbothered, the rain trickling down his face. He turns to look at you, and he tilts his head. "I'll admit, I didn't think you'd be like this."

"Like what?" you ask, a note of caution in your voice.

"Well, like this." He waves his hand in a vague gesture, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't know. I guess I just thought you'd be a little more...serious."

"I am serious," you insist, and he snorts, his gaze drifting to the sky.

"No, I know that," he chuckles. "But you've got to admit, you've got quite the reputation."

You sigh. "So I've heard."

"Don't take this the wrong way, sir," Booker says, his eyes shifting back to you. "But a lot of us were a little scared of you. Well, more like intimidated. We'd heard the stories, and we'd seen the footage, and well...you seemed pretty intense."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? What changed your mind?"

"You saved my life. Twice. And you gave me a chance to lead." He shrugs, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the railing. "You didn't have to do that, sir, but you did. I won't forget that."

"I'm glad," you say, and you give him a small smile. 

"Plus, the fact that you're a general who cares enough about us to save our asses is pretty nice." He pauses and glances at you, and then he looks away, his gaze distant. "Most generals would have left us to fend for ourselves."

You don't respond, not sure what to say. The truth is, there's no doubt in your mind that some of the other Jedi would have done exactly what Booker suggested. They would have seen the clone as sacrifices that had to be made, and they would have moved on. After all, it's not their job to protect them, or to train them. Their duty is to the Republic, not the individual. To the greater good, not the lesser evil.

It's a lesson you're not sure you'll ever be able to learn, not completely. Maybe that makes you naive, or soft, or too emotional. But, you don't care.

"I won't abandon my men," you declare, your voice firm and determined.

"Good." Booker nods, and then he pushes himself away from the railing, his expression grim. "Because we've got a battle to win, and we could use your help."

"Sir," a trooper calls, waving you over. "We're ready."

You turn back to Booker, your hands gripping the hilts of your sabers.

“Let’s move.”

It's early morning by the time the battle is won, and the sun is just beginning to rise. You're exhausted, and Grievous and Ventress have escaped yet again, but you're still standing, and Kamino is once again under Republic control. It's a small victory, but one that's earned.

Your clothes are soaked, your body is bruised, and your limbs are aching, but it's a sweet kind of pain, the kind that comes with survival. And, despite the loss of many, the clones have never looked more alive.

The storm is finally receding, the rain now nothing more than a drizzle, and the sky is streaked with vibrant hues of gold and pink through the transparisteel windows. You've never seen a sunrise like it.

The view is beautiful, and it fills you with hope, a sense of peace that seems impossible in the wake of the devastation. The sun is rising on a new day, and you know the ones you care about have made it through the night.

You've already spoken to Obi-Wan and Cody, and you can't help the relief that's washing over you. Both are alright, though a bit worse for wear, and the two men are leading the cleanup efforts, trying to restore order and repair the damage that has been done. Anakin is a little roughed up, but he's still in good spirits, and he's taken over coordinating the search and rescue effort, which is much appreciated.

You haven't spoken to Rex, though. Not yet. You haven't even had a chance to breathe, let alone try to locate him. But you can feel his presence through the Force, and you know he's alive, and for now, that's enough.

You’ve dismissed your contingent from your command, but that hasn’t stopped them from approaching you as you walk with Booker toward the medbay. He’s escorting you for your safety. Or at least, that’s what he says.

You can tell he’s lying, and you can tell he’s worried about you. He hasn’t stopped hovering since the battle ended, and he keeps a watchful eye on your surroundings, his hand never far from his blaster. It's an amusing gesture, but you appreciate the sentiment, even if you find it irritating.

He's a good man, and you can't help but feel proud of him. He's young, and he has a lot to learn, but he's also smart, observant, and he knows how to read people. That, combined with his skill with a blaster, makes him an ideal candidate. He'll be a great commander.

But, first, he needs some time. Time to recover from his injuries, time to process everything that happened, time to get used to being a leader.

“Almost there, sir,” Booker says, tugging you along when you stop to shake Snap’s hand. He gives the clone a wink, and then nudges you again, forcing you to keep walking.

You laugh as you wave your hand at him. "I can manage, Booker. I'm not that bad."

"Yes, sir," he chuckles. He glances down at you, and you can see his expression shift from amusement to concern, his eyes narrowed. You realize he’s staring at the scar stretched across your palm, the one that has long since healed, and you quickly fold both your hands behind your back. You'd forgotten.

"Sorry, sir," he murmurs. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay," you assure him quietly. "I know it looks strange. But, it's an old injury. From before the war."

Booker nods, but he doesn't look convinced. You can't blame him. The scars are strange, jagged lines that stretch across the palms of your hand, the skin raised and pale. You've never really gotten used to the sight of them, preferring to ignore their existence completely. But now that you know for sure that Dooku is responsible, you've caught yourself tracing the lines more than once in recent weeks.

Booker clears his throat, and he gestures toward the entrance to the medbay. "After you, sir."

You give him a look as you walk past him and step through the doors, the smell of antiseptic and bacta filling your nose. The room is large, and the white walls and floor reflect the fluorescent lighting, making it feel even bigger. There are rows of beds lined up against the wall, and medical droids moving between the patients. The place is crowded, and the air is filled with the sounds of moans and whimpers.

A Kaminoan lingers in the back of the room, watching with an unblinking focus that unnerves you, and you do your best to avoid her gaze. You’ve had enough of the Kaminoans and their superiority for one day.

“Wise!” Booker calls out as he pushes you gently to sit on an open cot. “Got a fresh one for you.”

A bald trooper currently arguing with a medical droid freezes and turns, his expression sour. 

“Can’t you see I’m busy—" He stops short when he sees you, and the furious glare tempers slightly. "Apologies, sir, I didn't realize. I'll be with you in a minute, okay? Just—shit, put that down!”

"Um, no problem," you mutter. "Take your time." 

You can't help but smirk as he smacks the droid with the back of his hand and turns back to it, berating it for its incompetence. You turn and raise an eyebrow at Booker. "Wise?"

"Short for wiseass," Booker explains, snickering. "But, don't tell him I told you."

You chuckle, and you settle onto the bed, pulling your legs up and crossing them. You're exhausted. Your muscles ache, and your head is pounding, but you know you'll have to wait a bit before you can rest. There are still things to do, and reports to write.

You look around the room, trying to distract yourself. The medbay is filled with clones, all sporting various injuries, some worse than others. You see a few you recognize, men who have fought at your side, and a few that were part of the original group you'd saved. Their injuries are mostly superficial, though one has a broken arm. He waves when he catches you staring, and you give him a nod.

“Alright, what can I do for you, sir?” Wise asks, stepping in front of you. He glances down at the carbon scoring on your armor and the gash on your cheek, and he raises a brow. "You don't look too bad, to be honest. Nothing a few bacta patches can't fix."

"Trust me, I've had worse," you laugh, shaking your head.

"I'm sure." He sighs, and he leans against the bed, a grimace on his face. "Listen, I've been working nonstop for the past six hours, and I'm dead tired. I just want to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. So can you just let me take a quick scan and say it's all good, please?"

"Sounds good to me," you say, nodding.

He gives a grunt, and he pulls a small scanner from his pocket, waving it over your body. A beam of light sweeps over you, the data scrolling across the screen, and Wise hums to himself, checking the readings.

You sit there patiently, trying not to fidget. You've never liked the medscanner. You always feel like it's judging you, somehow. And, while you know it's just a machine, the sensation of the beam running over your body is still uncomfortable, the feeling akin to that of someone staring at you.

"Well, the good news is, there's no internal bleeding," Wise declares, looking up. He puts the scanner down, his expression serious. "The bad news is, you have a mild concussion, you're dehydrated, your blood pressure is low, and your heart rate is elevated."

"So, normal," you quip.

"She has jokes." Wise sighs and turns, rummaging through the medkit. He pulls out a bottle of pills and a bottle of water. "Take these, drink this, and rest. You can have a bacta patch for that cut, and then you can get out of my medbay."

"That's it?" you ask, frowning. You're so used to Kix's fussing, the fact that Wise isn't nagging you about everything is a bit of a shock.

"That's it," Wise confirms. He presses the items into your hands, his eyes narrowing. "What, were you hoping for something else? Like a kiss, maybe?

You choke, the water dribbling down your chin, and Booker snorts.

"Don't push it, vod," Booker warns, but his words are laced with humor. "She could take your head off."

"And I'd enjoy every second," you add, popping the pills into your mouth and downing the rest of the water. You wipe your lips, a smirk tugging at the corner as the medic rolls his eyes.

"Fine. Just let me take a look at that gash."

Wise moves closer, and his hand rests lightly against your face, his fingers tilting your chin up. He's surprisingly gentle for someone so brash and grumpy, his touch careful, his gaze focused. He hums, dabbing the disinfectant on the wound. You barely feel it.

"Looks like you'll live," he says. He holds his hand out, and a medical droid places a bacta patch in his palm. As Wise applies the bacta patch, Booker moves to stand next to him, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"How are things looking, Wise?" he asks, his voice casual. You know he's checking on the men, but there's a note of concern in his tone, a worry that he's trying to mask.

Wise doesn't bother hiding it. He huffs and turns his gaze to Booker, his scowl deepening. "They're holding on, but not much more." He pauses and glances at you, his expression darkening. "Some of the boys have had it rougher than others, but, well, that's war."

Booker nods, and he glances around the room, his gaze moving over the wounded men. You can't see his expression, but you can feel the shift in his emotions. It’s the first time he’s lost a man, and it won't be the last.

"It'll be alright, Booker," you reassure him.

He's silent, but he gives a small nod.

"If you need anything, I'll be in the back," Wise mutters. He pats Booker's arm, the gesture friendly, and then turns away, walking toward the next patient.

"Thanks," you call. He doesn't respond, and you let out a sigh. "I don't think he likes me."

Booker laughs, a real laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His earlier mood seems to have lightened, and he clasps your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Are you kidding me? He loves you. I can tell," he insists. "That was practically a marriage proposal."

You roll your eyes. "Right. And I suppose you'll be my bridesmaid."

Booker opens his mouth to retort, but his gaze flickers, his attention caught by something. The medbay doors slide open, and a trooper in familiar blue and white armor steps through, his posture stiff, his helmet tucked under his arm.

Rex.

The room goes quiet, every clone in the room turning their head to follow his path as he walks. Rex doesn't seem to notice. He moves with purpose, his eyes scanning the rows of beds, searching.

He looks tired, his armor dented and scorched, his hair damp from the rain. There's a scratch on his cheek, a cut across his brow, and his bottom lip is swollen, split at the corner. But, he's alive. He's here, and he's standing.

And, he's looking for you.

You can feel the moment Rex sees you. His eyes widen, and he freezes, his jaw going slack. The wave of relief that washes over him is strong, so strong it's almost tangible. He lets out a shuddering breath, and his gaze moves over your face, taking you in. You do the same. And, for a moment, the two of you just stare.

Then, the world shifts back into motion.

Rex starts to move, his steps slow at first, almost hesitant, as if he's not sure he's seeing you. Then the hesitation disappears, and he's suddenly striding towards you, his gase locked on yours.

“Is that…” Booker straightens, his eyes wide, and he takes a reflexive step back. He gives a sharp nod to Rex as he approaches, and his hands fall to his sides, his fingers flexing. “Captain Rex, sir.”

Rex doesn't even acknowledge him. He stops in front of you, his chest rising and falling, his expression pained. His eyes roam over you, taking in the state of your armor, the gash on your cheek, and then, he finally meets your gaze.

You swallow, forcing yourself to breathe.

"We have to stop meeting like this," you say, trying to break the tension.

It doesn't work.

Rex doesn't say anything, but the pain in his eyes only intensifies, and the look is so raw, so visceral, that it takes your breath away. His mouth trembles, his lips parting, and his hand lifts, hovering for a second before falling to his side.

"General," he says, his voice hoarse.

"I'm fine, Rex," you assure him. You reach out and place a hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting the air out slowly. When he opens his eyes, the pain is gone, replaced by something softer, and he gives you a small nod, a silent thank you.

“You okay?” you ask, and he gives a tight nod, his fingers flexing at his side.

"Yeah," Rex breathes. "You?"

"Never better."

He snorts, his lips twitching into a smile. "Liar."

"Maybe."

Rex shakes his head, and then, he finally seems to notice the man standing beside you. You glance at Booker, and you realize the clone has gone completely still, his back straight, his shoulders stiff, his expression one of awe and disbelief.

You bite your lip, trying to hide your amusement. You know the feeling. Rex is intimidating when he wants to be, and it's clear Booker is not immune to the Captain's commanding presence, or his reputation.

"Who's your friend, General?" Rex asks, his voice low. He raises an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing, and the corner of his mouth curves into a half-smile. You can feel his amusement, and it's a relief.

"Commander Booker, sir," Booker responds. He hesitates, his gaze flickering to you. "I...was assigned to the general. To protect her."

"Oh?" Rex's eyes shift, and he looks at you, his expression softening. "And, did you?"

"I did, sir." Booker sounds almost defensive, and his gaze darts to you, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "I mean, not that she needs my help. She's a Jedi. She can handle herself. But, I was...there."

Rex hums, his lips pressed together, and his gaze moves over the trooper, assessing him. You can't help but roll your eyes. Rex is being difficult, and you know it. But, he can't seem to help himself, and he's enjoying the discomfort on Booker's face far too much.

"He saved my life," you add, and Booker lets out a relieved sigh. "Twice, actually."

"Twice, huh?" Rex's eyebrows shoot up, and he looks at the clone again, a new respect shining in his eyes. "Good work, Commander."

"Thank you, sir," Booker says. His posture relaxes slightly, and he lets out a small breath, his shoulders slumping. "It was an honor to serve with the General. She's a good leader."

"That she is," Rex agrees. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a moment with the General."

"Oh, yes, of course," Booker stammers, and he takes a step back. He turns to you, a questioning look on his face. "General?"

"You're dismissed," you say. "Go get some rest, Booker. You've earned it."

He hesitates, his gaze lingering on Rex, and you can tell he wants to argue. But, he's smart, and he knows when to retreat.

"Yes, sir." He snaps a salute, his helmet tucked under his arm. "Goodbye, General. It was a pleasure serving with you."

You smile. "Goodbye, Commander. I'll see you around."

He nods and moves away, joining the group of clones who are standing near the doors. They exchange quiet words, their voices hushed, and then, they disappear.

"I like him," you announce as the door slides shut behind them, and Rex lets out a soft snort.

"I'm sure you do," he says, shaking his head. "He seems...eager."

"Be nice." You roll your eyes and nudge him playfully with your arm. "He fought well today. I’m putting my recommendation in to have him promoted officially. I think he'd make a good leader."

“If he’s got your approval, he'll do just fine," Rex says, his voice quiet.

"You're probably right." You pause, and then, you tilt your head, looking at him. "Why aren't you with the other men?"

"I was, but..." He trails off, his jaw working. Rex takes a step closer and glances at Wise, who's hovering nearby, doing a poor job of pretending not to listen, and he clears his throat. “Is the General clear to go? We have a briefing to get to.”

Wise gives a curt nod, and he waves a hand toward the exit. "All clear, Captain. You can take her."

"Good." Rex looks back at you. "Ready, General?"

You sigh. The last thing you want to do is attend another pointless briefing, but you know it's important. So, you nod.

"Ready."

He holds out a hand, and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. You sway slightly, and his other hand settles at the small of your back, steadying you. He holds you like that for a moment, and then he releases you, his hands falling to his sides.

"Come on," he mutters, his eyes dark.

The two of you leave the medbay, the silence heavy between you. There's a tension in his posture, a strain in his voice, and a tightness to his jaw that tells you something's bothering him. And it's not just the eyes on the two of you.

"Is everything alright?" you ask.

"Everything's fine."

You study his face, trying to read his expression, but his mask is firmly in place, his thoughts hidden. It's easier to sense his emotions. Anger, frustration, pain, exhaustion, fear. All of it's there, swirling beneath the surface, but the reasons behind them are unclear.

Rex is one of the most self-contained people you've ever met, but you've gotten better at reading him over the months together. The slightest twitch, the faintest tremor, the briefest flicker. There's a whole language in those little things, and you're starting to learn it. And, right now, he's struggling.

You glance around the hallway, noting the curious eyes that linger, the whispers that follow, the stares that bore into your back. But the further you walk, the less people there are, and the quieter it becomes. Soon, the only sound is the steady thud of Rex's boots and the hum of the ventilation system.

“So, where’s the briefing?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. Your arms extend above your head in a stretch, and a yawn escapes your mouth, making you feel even more tired. You can't wait to sleep.

“There isn’t one,” Rex admits.

Your arms drop, your brow furrowing.

“Then why did you…”

Rex stops and turns to face you. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he's standing tall, his shoulders squared, his head held high. He looks every inch the soldier. A perfect example of discipline, restraint, and control.

But, his eyes betray him.

He's afraid.

You blink, surprised, and you open your mouth to speak, but Rex shakes his head. He reaches out and grabs your arm, tugging you into a nearby alcove, and you stumble after him. His grip is gentle, but there's a firmness to it that warns you not to fight him.

Once the two of you are alone, Rex releases your arm and takes a step back, and his hands ball into fists at his side. He takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.

"Rex," you say, trying to catch his attention. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer. He's staring at the floor, his brow furrowed, his mouth set in a firm line. His jaw clenches, and his lips part, as if he's about to speak, but no words come. 

You watch as his hands flex, the fingers curling and uncurling, and he runs a palm over his face.

"No, I'm not okay," he finally says, a rough exhale escaping him. His voice is strained, his words coming out in a low rasp. "I thought...I thought...for a minute, I..."

The realization hits you, and you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath.

He'd thought you were dead.

He'd thought he'd lost you.

And, judging by the look on his face, the pain he's clearly trying to mask, it's shaken him more than he'll ever admit.

"Rex," you breathe, your heart sinking.

You'd felt his emotions when the battle started, the worry and fear that had radiated from him, but you'd assumed it was because he knew what was coming, and because he was worried about the other men. You never thought it was because of you. Because he was scared for you.

You'd been so focused on your own feelings, on the dread and anxiety that had plagued you, that you'd never considered the possibility that Rex might feel the same way. That his thoughts might drift to you. That he might wonder if you'd made it through the storm.

The realization is painful, and it brings a lump to your throat. You feel guilty, and ashamed.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I didn't mean to worry you."

His gaze drops, and he shakes his head. "No, it's not your fault. I'm the one who's sorry. I should have...I shouldn't have let it get to me. I know better than to lose my focus like that. I just...when I heard the explosion, I..."

He stops and lets out a ragged breath, and his body sags, the fight draining out of him. You step closer, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek. His skin is warm, and his stubble scratches against your palm. Rex leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed, and his head tilts to the side, his nose brushing against your wrist.

"It's okay. You're allowed to be upset." You offer a small smile. "You're only human."

Rex doesn't say anything. He just sighs and covers your hand with his, pressing it closer to his skin. You can feel his pulse beating rapidly beneath your fingertips, and his grip tightens, as if he's afraid to let go.

"You're going to make me cry," you joke weakly, but the truth is, his pain is almost unbearable. It's too close, too real. You can feel it echoing inside you, and the weight of it is almost crushing. You hate seeing him like this. You hate knowing that you're the cause of it.

"Please don't," he mutters. His voice is rough, and there's a raw edge to it that makes your stomach twist.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll probably start crying, too," he confesses, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest as he opens his eyes. "I've had a rough day."

You let out a weak laugh, trying to fight the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You blink, and a single tear rolls down your cheek.

Rex's eyes widen, and his face falls.

"Now you've done it," he grumbles, but there's a tenderness to his words that makes your heart swell.

His hands move to your shoulders, and he gently pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your body. Your face buries in his neck, and his chin rests on the top of your head.

"I'm glad you're alive," he whispers. His grip tightens, his fingers digging into the back of your robes. "When I didn't see you after the battle...I didn't know what to think. I couldn't find you. I didn't know where you were, or if you were even..."

You squeeze him harder, letting him know you're here, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You can feel his body trembling beneath your touch, and his hand reaches up, cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"I'm not going anywhere," you murmur, your voice muffled as you bury your face further into the crook of his neck.

Rex lets out a shaky breath. "Good."

You stand like that for a long moment, the two of you clinging to each other, neither of you willing to let go. You can feel his heartbeat slowing, his muscles relaxing, and his breathing evens out. His grip loosens, and his fingers trail through your hair, his nails scratching lightly against your scalp.

He needs this. He needs you. And, for once, he's letting himself have it

You know the feeling.

The war has taken its toll on both of you, and the weight of it has been a burden that you've borne separately and together. The endless battles, the constant stress, the loss of life. It's all wearing you down. You want to comfort him, to give him the support he so desperately needs, but you're not sure how. Not when your own emotions are so tangled. Nothing seems right, nothing seems enough. And, the words that come out are inadequate.

"We made it," you say, and the words sound hollow, even to you. "That's all that matters."

Rex makes a small noise, almost a laugh, and his hand moves to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing along the base of your skull.

"Yeah," he breathes. “Yeah, we did."

"We're okay," you remind him, pulling back to look him in the eye. You give him a smile, and he returns it, his eyes crinkling. "I promise."

Rex studies you for a long moment, his gaze moving over your face, as if trying to memorize every detail. His expression softens, and his hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the bacta patch.

"I'm going to hold you to that,” he murmurs. His voice is rough, his tone serious, but the corner of his mouth curves into a half-smile.

"Good. You should.”

"You know, if you keep saying things like that, I'm going to start thinking you actually care," he teases, his fingers trailing along your cheekbone.

You roll your eyes, and your hands move to his chest, pushing him away. He chuckles and pulls back, releasing his hold on you.

"You know what I meant," you say, wiping away the wetness from your cheeks. "And, for the record, I do care."

"I know," he replies softly, his eyes flickering. He clears his throat and glances away, his cheeks flushing, and you can't help but smile.

"I was worried, too," you confess. Rex's eyes snap back to yours, and his eyebrows rise. "About you, I mean. About all of you. I thought...well, I thought a lot of things. And, I'm glad none of them came true."

"Me too," he agrees. "I don't know what I would have done if..." He trails off, his voice fading, and his lips press into a firm line. He swallows and takes a deep breath, his hand moving to the back of his neck, rubbing at the tense muscles. "Sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into an empty hallway just to have a breakdown. I just..."

"You needed a minute," you finish, and he nods, his shoulders slumping.

"Something like that."

"You have nothing to apologize for," you tell him, giving his arm a squeeze. "It's been a rough day for all of us. And, you're not the only one who's a little shaken."

"You're right," he concedes, letting out a long exhale.

You pat his arm and offer him a smile, trying to lift his mood. “Besides, if we're keeping track of emotional breakdowns, I'm still way ahead of you. You're gonna have to try a lot harder if you want to catch up."

Rex huffs and shakes his head, his lips twitching.

"Well, I don’t think this war is ending anytime soon," he quips. "I'll have plenty of opportunities."

"True."

You give a sigh and lean against the wall, resting your head back. You can feel the exhaustion starting to catch up with you, and your body is heavy, the weight of the past few hours weighing down on you. You close your eyes and let out a groan, wishing you could just crawl into a bed and sleep for the next ten years.

Rex moves to stand beside you, his shoulder pressing against yours. The heat radiating from his body is comforting, and you lean into him, savoring his closeness. He turns his head, his eyes searching your face, and you meet his gaze, a faint smile on your lips.

"Thank you," he murmurs. "For letting me have a minute."

"Any time," you tell him, and you mean it. He's done so much for you. He's given so much of himself. You'd give anything to ease his pain, and if a minute is what he needs, you'll give him that. It’s the least you can do.

His lips part, as if he's going to say something, but no words come out. His eyes drop to your mouth, and his jaw tenses, his throat bobbing. Then, he shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says, and his gaze lifts, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "You're just...you're a good friend, General."

The word friend stings more than you expect, and you bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself not to grimace. You can't blame him for saying it. Not when it's the truth. You are his friend. But a small part of you had hoped...well, it doesn't matter.

"Right," you say, your smile a little strained. "So are you."

Rex gives a nod and turns his gaze away, looking down the hallway. He seems lost in thought, his brow furrowed, his lips twisted, and you watch as he looks left and right, checking to see if the coast is clear. There's a moment of hesitation, and then, he sighs and turns back to you, his expression softening. He looks almost shy.

"I..." He stops and takes a deep breath, as if he's steeling himself for what's to come. "Here."

He pulls up his vambrace, and you watch, confused, as he taps a few buttons. His finger hovers over one of the controls, and then he presses it. 

A second later, your commlink begins to chime. Your eyes widen, and you quickly pull it out to silence it, staring at the display that pops up. You glance up at Rex, and his cheeks flush, his hand rising to the back of his neck as his eyes avoid yours. He's nervous. He should be. He’s breaking about a dozen regulations by giving you his private frequency, and you know it. He knows it. 

And, yet, here he is, giving it to you anyway.

It's dangerous, risky, and foolish, but neither of you seem to care. The war is already hard enough, and the idea of keeping each other at a distance, especially now, is an unnecessary cruelty. So, you don't argue. You save the contact, and you tuck your commlink away, giving him a smile.

"Just in case," he mutters, his gaze finally meeting yours.

"In case what?"

"In case you need me," he says. His voice is quiet, but there's a strength to it, a resolve. "Or, in case I need you."

You stare at him, unable to speak. The look in his eyes is so tender, so earnest, that it takes your breath away. There's something else there, too, something deeper, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You have to look away.

"Got it," you manage.

Rex gives a small nod, and he pushes himself off the wall, moving to stand in front of you. His hands settle on your shoulders, his thumbs tracing circles against the fabric of your tunic.

"We'll see each other soon," he promises. "Just...let me know when you get back to the Temple. Okay?"

"I will," you agree.

"Good."

Rex gives you one last smile, and then he releases you. You watch as he walks away, his footsteps echoing in the corridor, before he disappears around the corner, leaving you alone.

You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself, smoothing the front of your robes. Your hands are trembling, and your heart is racing, but you ignore the feelings, burying them. It's just stress, you tell yourself. It's been a long day. You're just tired.

Your eyes trace the panels along the walls, and you stare up at the ceiling, the white lights overhead. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, clearing your mind. When you open them, you feel calm, the momentary panic fading.

There's a sudden ping from your commlink, and you jump, startled. Your fingers fumble with the device, and you quickly bring it up, tapping the display.

Stay safe.

The words make your heart skip a beat, and you type out a response without hesitation.

Always.

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[kitsunespawz]

Staring contest be like

It's time for chapter 18!

Doc is not happy about the apocalyptic slime in a jar being on hermitcraft. The bois are fighting, blame @evilrat-sabre ;]

[fangirl-dot-com]

Incorrect Quotes

all of these were from Pinterest - cause I'm not this funny (I also couldn't wait for the next chapter to come out so here :D)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 26 spots still open! (please send me a direct message to be added!)

Y/n: I’m cool Oscar  Y/n: I’m THEE coolest  Y/n: In fact, I was once arrested for being too cool *puts on sunglasses*  Oscar: The charges were dropped because there was no supporting evidence. Also, your glasses are upside down. 

Y/n: I have a very specific type  Max: Oh yeah? Like what?  Y/n: Y’know…polite, handsome, athletic…that sort of thing  Arthur (on his fourth energy drink of the day) tripping over camera wires and holding his mic upside down: you little shit eating, damned pathetic piece of shit – now you listen here  Y/n: *heart eyes* that one. I want that one.  Max: *flabbergasted* 

Lando: bet you’re standing in the corner because you’re scared that you’ll get turned down if you talk to anyone  Y/n: please, I could fluster near everyone at this party if I chose to  Oscar: oh yeah? Prove it. Go for someone borderline impossible and I’ll believe you Y/n, approaching Arthur: hey dumbass, hoodie looks kind of cute on you, wanna get out of here?  Arthur: WH- I MEAN- UHHHH YEAH SURE  Y/n: perfect  Oscar and Lando: 

Y/n: I brought a red bull  Max: I don’t want a red bull Y/n: I didn’t bring this for you. This is my red bull. Max: then why are you telling me?  Y/n: It’s a conversation starter.  Max: That’s a lousy conversation starter  Y/n: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate *sips red bull* 

Y/n: *gently taps table*  Logan: *taps back*  Alex: what are they doing?  George: morse code Y/n: *aggressively taps table*  Logan: *slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK- 

Lewis: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated  Y/n: Killed without hesitation  Lewis: nO!

Y/n: Is stabbing someone immoral?  Mitch: Not if they consent to it.  Max: Depends on who you’re stabbing.  Christian: YES?! 

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.  Y/n: Shit  Logan: Wait, three?  Cop: yeah? Lando: OH MY GOSH OSCAR FELL OFF!! 

Max: Time for plan G.  Liam: Don’t you mean plan B?  Daniel: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.  Y/n: What about plan D?  Daniel: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.  Max: What about plan E?  Liam: I’m hoping not to use it. I die in plan E  Yuki: I like plan E. 

Christian: Did none of you think this was a bad idea?  *Y/n, Max, Charles, and Arthur covered in navy and red paint*  Y/n: Oh no, we all did. We just decided to do it anyway. 

George: (in sunglasses and newest Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit) *in the most posh accent* I’m too good for revenge  Logan: (covered in bug spray, cowboy hat and overalls on, pumped full of Bang energy drink and high on freedom) *cocks shotgun* Well, I’m not. Give me the name. 

Arthur: So what’s your type?  Y/n: Kinda long blond hair, green eyes, dumb, dimples, funny, really thin waist  Arthur: Huh, that kind of sounds like me! Too bad its not me! Y/n: did I mention dumb?  Arthur: yeah, why?  Y/n: just making sure 

*Over Text* 

Y/n: Hey pretty boy, what’re you up to? :) Arthur: Eating cereal in bed  Y/n: And what would you be doing if I was in bed with you?  Arthur:…I would still be eating my cereal? 

Waitress: And what would you like to eat?  Y/n: I wish to devour the unborn  Fernando: Eggs, she would like eggs 

Y/n: Do you think that when sheep go to sleep they count themselves?  Lando: Or do they count humans?  Y/n: Ooo, that’s a good question  Oscar: GO TO SLEEP 

Y/n to Max: because I am a mature adult  *turns to see Mitch, Christian, and Vito shake their heads*  *turns back to Max*  Y/n: I am an adult 

*Dinner with Max, Y/n, Charles, and Arthur* 

Y/n: The food is too cute, I can’t eat it!  Max:  Charles:  Arthur: You’re cute, but I’d still eat y- Max: ONE DINNER  Charles: *sighs* here we go again  Max: ONE NORMAL DINNER IS ALL I ASK  Y/n: Charles, this pasta is also crunchy, I truly can’t eat this 

Ollie: Good night everyone  Arthur: Good night  Lando: Good night  Oscar: Good night  Y/n: good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. Tonight, imma fight until we see the sunlight. Tik tok on the clock, but the party don’t stop  Oscar: I’M DONE

George (t-posing in the doorway): Greetings, parental figures and sister figure  *Y/n, Lewis, and Toto walking past*  Toto (not looking up from his coffee): Good morning, problem child 

Christian: You see, Fernando, Y/n is at the age where she only has one thing on her mind  Fernando (noticeably excited): Oh! Oh! Oh! Boys?  Max (looking over at the dead tired rookie with revenge in her eyes as she looks at Esteban): No. Murder. 

Y/n: Hey Liam, want some of this food?  Liam: Sure, thanks!  Yuki (storming in with the anger of the gods): WHO TF ATE MY LEFTOVERS THAT CLEARLY HAD MY NAME ON IT  Y/n: WE did  Liam: You surprisingly smart little mf

Y/n: Never have I ever…Been grounded by my parents!  Arthur (exasperated): Every time. She makes disownment jokes every time and she always wins  Max: Good one Kid. I always go for the ‘never had a dad who supported me.’ Charles: *stands up and walks away* 

Y/n: I’ve only said I love you to four people. Christian, Vito, Arthur, and Max when I thought he died after he wouldn’t respond after a DNF. I only regret one of those  Lando: Which one?  Y/n: Max. He was just pressing the wrong button and walked out a few minutes later. He made me look like an idiot.  Max: I let you win next race   Y/n: still

(Y/n, Logan, Lando, and George trying to sneak into RB for more energy drinks after being banned from drinking more) 

Logan: So what do you think Y/n will do as a distraction? Lando: She’ll probably, like, make a noise  George: Or throw a rock. That’s what I would do  *The door flings open and smoke follows. Screams of mechanics fill the air as they try to extinguish a small fire*  Logan:…Or she could do that. 

Y/n: When I die, donate my entire body to science  Y/n: Except my middle finger, give that to Esteban 

(max and y/n in a horror movie) 

Max: QUICK YOU’RE LOSING A LOT OF BLOOD. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?  Y/n (bleeding out): tall, male, brown hair, dimples, caring, supportive, Monegasque Max: BLOOD TYPE DUMBASS  Y/n: oh  Y/n: (looks down at wound)  Y/n: red 

Lando: I wish we could block people in real life.  Oscar: Restraining order  Y/n: Murder 

Christian: Y/n, we need to talk about your professionalism for media days  Y/n (and a lot of media personelle she rounded up, all standing on chairs): those are some mighty brave words for someone standing in lava 

Y/n (to Max while hiding behind some tires – regretting everything): and then I called him dad  Christian (to Geri – trying not to cry while cameras are everywhere): and then she called me dad 

Max: Christian, look what Y/n got me for father’s day *holds up generic #1 dad mug*  Christian (glaring silently while sipping from his own #1 dad mug)  Max: that lying rookie Vito (holding a worn down #1 dad mug): you guys are late to the party suckers 

Criminals: We have your daughter and son  Toto: I don’t have a daughter and Jack is right here Criminals: then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwiches?  Christian: dear God, you have Y/n and George

 

Mitch: So Christian, you and Geri want to be a parents again someday?  Christian: Someday? We’re parents right now.  Mitch: Y/n is your employee Geri: She is our BLOOD 

Christian: Max is late again  Kelly: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11 Y/n: I wrote a fake schedule saying we were starting at 9 instead of 12 Lando: I changed his clock from AM to PM  Christian: I think you may have overdone it  Max (bursting into the garage): WHAT YEAR IS IT? 

Y/n: If I blended Red Bull, five hour energy, monster, coffee, and hot Cheetos into an energy smoothie...would it kill me? Logan: *shrugs* only if you die Y/n (getting out the blender): you're so smart Logan Max (running into the room): y/N STOP!

Lance: I got Netflix like you asked! Y/n: OH that's amazing! I've been mooching off Max's and Arthur's accounts for a while. This will be nice! Lance: Wait, what do you mean accounts? Y/n: Their Netflix accounts? Lance: Y/n: Like their profiles? I wanted one of my own, they're like $12 Lance: Lance:....Oh....You meant the account on the service... Y/n: Yeah, what did you think I meant? Wait...What did you buy? Lance: Lance:....Netflix...

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, fluff, ANGST ANGST, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 7k+

A/n: so so sooo sorry for the delay of this chapter but I managed to get a long chapter out!! Hope you like it and I hope the angst hits (I’m not really good at writing angst so I need to know ur thoughts on this chapter)😭😭😭

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 8: ruins of a birthday

“Hmm,” Aemond hums, stirring in his sleep as he feels something on his face, gently going from one place to another, clearly not wanting to wake him up. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t be rude, birthday boy.” He hears you mumble against his cheek, trailing your kisses to his soft lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Hmm,” he hums again, wrapping his arms around you while he tries to kiss you sleepily, but only whines when you pull away a little, reaching to push his hair out of his face.

“A thank you would be nice, you grumpy old man,” you tease him, kissing his forehead gently as you play with his hair, holding yourself up by your elbow on his spare pillow. “I remember your first day at school—“

“Don’t,” he grunts, pushing you on your back suddenly, resting his head on your chest as he tightens his arm around your middle, breathing against your boobs while he smirks. “This is nice.”

“Yeah? Wanna cuddle the day out?” you ask, threading your fingers through his unruly wavy hair. “Or I can take care of you…all day, every hour, every minute. I’m gonna spend the day with you and spoil you rotten, Lil nerd.”

“Hmmm, how are you going to take care of me?” he asks, looking up from your chest, his sleepy blue iris staring into yours. “Because I can lock us in the room and spend the entire day in the bed with you.”

“I can give you a blowjob.” You bite your lips, wiggling your way through his embrace until he is pushed on his back and you are hovering on top of him. “A really good, soul-crushing blowjob that blows your fucking mind.”

“Really?” he whispers, his breathing heavy and quick. “How good actually are you?”

“I can show you if you are interested,” you peck his lips before trailing your lips to his jaw, noticing how his chest goes up and down with each deep breath.

“I’m more than interested.” He leans his head back on his pillow, one of his hands coming up to caress your back while you keep your lips locked on his skin, moving from his jaw to his neck. “Fuck, darling, no marks—“

“Shh.” You sink your teeth in the junction of his neck and shoulder, earning a low groan from him. “I can cover them up with a bit of makeup, now let me have some fun with you.”

You go lower, tugging on his t-shirt until he pulls it off, revealing his chest and abs to you, and you take this chance to kiss your way to his nipples, sucking on the hardening buds slowly, and you feel his cock throbbing against your hip.

You flicker your tongue around his nipple, pulling a shuddering breath out of him, and he takes this chance to bring his hand to your head, petting your hair gently.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he says, closing his eye as you let go of his nipple with a lewd ‘pop’ sound and kiss a path down to his belly button and lower until you reach the waistline of his pajamas. You pull the fabric down with your teeth, eyes staring up at him as you do, pulling back to help him push his pants down completely. He lifts his hips up, pushing his pants and boxers down, flopping back on the bed when his cock springs free, twitching with need and desire. 

“Already so hard for me,” you say, smirking at him when you find his cheeks burning, reaching to hold his heavy member in your palm before leaning down. “Happy birthday, sweet boy.”

You close your lips around the tip of his cock, flicking your tongue around the slit, making Aemond sigh in contentment. You open your mouth, letting his cock rest on your tongue as you lick the underside of it, putting on a show for him.

“Fuck, darling, please—“

“Already begging? How cute,” you say, grinning at him devilishly before letting your spit drop from your lips, smearing it all over his cock with one hand as you lean down to take him in your mouth, this time more than just his tip.

Aemond groans, feeling the warmth of your mouth engulfing him thoroughly. He throws his head back, the hand on your head pushes your hair out of your face, gently guiding you down to take more of him, and you oblige silently, humming around his cock as you take him deeper and deeper, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this.” He lets out a breathless chuckle, a small smile on his lips as his breathing gets more rapid and shallow. 

You close your eyes as you hollow your cheeks, stroking whatever you can not take, humming and stroking his slim hips and abs, and trying your best to ignore the wetness that pools into your panties.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he whispers, his face twisting with pleasure when your hand goes lower and cups his balls, squeezing and rubbing them in a way that makes his mouth go dry, and you do as he says, opening your eyes to look up at him. “There she is, my gorgeous girl.”

You feel him twitching in your mouth when you hum again, the vibration going straight to his core. He is close, closer than he should be but with the way you are sucking him off, he can no longer hold himself back.

“I’m— I’m coming, fuck—“

He groans, pulling you up by your hair and you gasp, taking this as your cue to stroke him with both hands. “Come for me, love, come on my face.”

His hips stutter upwards, his free hand fists the bedsheets, and his toes curl, spurts of cum coating your face while he lets out broken moans and groans. His back arches off of the bed a little, and your heart beats in your chest faster as you look at how beautiful he is with his reddened cheeks and gaping mouth.

“Shit, baby, I’m—“ he starts to apologize when he sees the state you are in, sitting up immediately to pull you in his lap, grabbing his t-shirt to wipe his cum off of your face. “Fuck me, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” you chuckle, grabbing the fabric from him to wipe away the remnants of his seed before you look at him lovingly. “I’m okay, baby, don’t worry! I enjoyed it, did you?”

“Of course!” he replies immediately, his grin matching yours. “I didn’t enjoy it, I fucking loved it. You’re a menace for this birthday gift.”

“I’m glad! But—“ You give him a kiss on his lips before wiggling out of his embrace to reach for the box on the ground, picking it up before you hand it to Aemond and crawl back onto his lap. “Happy birthday!”

“A gift?”

“It’s not something huge, just a little thing to remind you how much you mean to me!” you explain, watching how he pulls on the ribbons of the box and takes the lid off before his gaze softens as he looks at his gift.

He pulls a polaroid out; it is a picture of him with his siblings and you at Daeron’s fourth birthday, grinning at the camera with cake smeared all over your faces. He then reaches for the book inside the box, huffing out a small laugh when he finds out which book it is — the philosophy book of Maester Orwyle, identical to the one you poured coffee on a few weeks ago.

“I hope it’s not too cheesy, but I thought—“

He silences you with a deep kiss, one of his hands going to the back of your neck, pressing your lips further to his as he moves them in sync. Aemond licks your bottom lip, flipping you over so he can hover on top of you with your lips still locked until you part them and let his tongue slide against yours, exploring your mouth.

“It’s amazing, darling,” he says, looking at you with a softness he never knew he could muster, but the adoration in his gaze is evident, and the warmth that drips from his look is enough to melt your worries away.

“There’re still some pictures left in there! Come on, look at them.” You bite your lip, suddenly remembering how you called him a nickname that is probably too soon to say, averting your eyes from his face to look down, finding him fully naked. “And put your clothes back on! Unfortunately your dick is talking to me and we’ll be suspicious if we take hours to join the family.”

“Magic dick, huh?” He drops next to you on the bed, pulling on his pants before he lies back down with the box on his chest, pulling another polaroid out. “Oh, fuck you, why did you choose this photo?”

“Because! Look at you! It was the time you wanted to dye your hair with Helaena—“

“I hate you—“

“Na uh, you…” You pause, looking at him with soft eyes before you distract him from the unfinished sentence. “You were so cute though! You looked exactly like your Mum with your short orange hair.”

“You are mean,” he whines, looking back at you, finding you lying on your side as you smile at him. “I don’t think I can ever get tired of seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” You cuddle closer until your faces are inches away, your noses brushing against each other as he looks at you as if you have hung the sun in his sky.

“Like you feel safe and happy with me.”

“I am safe and happy with you.”

“Happy motherfucking birthday, you giant lizard!” Aegon whistles, earning a pinch on his side from Alicent with a disapproving glare. “Sorry, Ma, but look at him! Twenty-six years old and still a long way to go to be as cool as his big bro.”

“Ignore him.” His mother walks towards Aemond, putting her hands on his shoulders to pull him down in her arms, hugging him tightly. “Happy birthday, my darling boy.”

“Thank you.” He hugs her back, smiling softly at her and he notices you and Helaena giggling from the corner of his eye, shaking his head a little before he thanks his mother again.

“Look what we have got here!” Rhaena’s voice makes Aemond and Alicent break their hug, standing next to each other while they watch Rhaenyra and her family walk downstairs. Rhaena takes the lead and walks towards him, pulling him in a quick hug, “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” he nods, patting her back awkwardly, clearing his throat as he looks at the family all together, everyone grimacing at each other as if the mere thought of the whole family together bitters their moods.

Jace is next; he congratulates Aemond with a hand on his shoulder, earning a nod in response from the birthday boy. Others do not say much, a cold happy birthday is all. But he can see the malicious glint in Daemon’s eyes when he appears out of nowhere, standing close to Viserys while he keeps his gaze locked on Aemond before glancing behind him, looking at you and Helaena.

“Son,” Viserys nods at Aemond, the room falls silent, no one dares to say a thing, and for the first time he feels uneasy when you walk beside him, trying to act cool and congratulate him, hut his father interrupts you, “A lovely day, don’t you think? We’ll celebrate later at night, come, Rhaenyra I wish to walk outside.”

His half sister and his uncle leave, but the way Daemon shakes his head and chuckles under his breath while looking between you and Aemond makes him uncomfortable, as if he knows something he should not.

“Aren’t you lucky, nephew? You could have had a wife to celebrate with, but now—“

“He doesn’t need a wife to be happy, he has us,” you cut him off, letting Daeron take your place by Aemond’s side as you walk back towards the girls, “He is lucky, we’ll make his birthday one of the most memorable days for him.”

“Absolutely,” Daemon smirks, “I have no doubt it will be a very memorable day,” and with that, he follows his brother outside the room.

“I have something to take care of for tonight’s dinner, I assume you kids know how to take care of yourself,” Alicent says, reaching to give Aemond a kiss on his forehead before she leaves with Cole following her.

“So!” Jace starts, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “What do you guys say to a game of Tennis? We pair up, and I’m sure I can beat your asses one by one.”

“You? Beating Aemond? In your dreams, asshole,” Aegon says, rolling his eyes at his nephew, “But I suppose we can have fun doing this, right? What do you say, birthday boy?”

“I don’t know,” Aemond shrugs and turns to look at you, “Do you know how to play?”

“What do you take me for, Targaryen?” You reply, raising your eyebrows at him, giving him a challenging look which you know he is secretly enjoying, “I may not be of a really rich family but I grew up with Hel. We are quite the pair.”

“Fine, let’s go!” Daeron whistles, throwing his arms around his brothers’ shoulders before the group moves towards the path leading to the courts, the Targaryen twins and Velaryon brothers following you outside.

“Good thing I packed you a pretty little Tennis skirt, huh? I can totally feel Aemond losing his mind just by looking at you,” Helaena whispers in your ear, giggling when you shush her, trying to fight off the smile growing on your lips, “He is so pussy whipped, it’s disgusting!” “Yeah, well, he’s got a really hot girlfriend, what can I say?” you nudge her, laughin quietly before Lucerys speaks up, making your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach.

“Aemond has a girlfriend? When did that happen?” 

Aemond stops dead in his tracks and so does Aegon but with one glare on your way, you and Helaena leave, not wishing to look suspicious. Aemond and his brother turn around to look at Luke, both of them nervous and anxious and with every second that passes, Aemond feels his body tremble more and more.

“I don’t,” he replies harshly, louder than he intended to, and unknown to him, you can hear his response from the distance between you, “I can’t be bothered to be in a relationship now.”

“And that’s none of your fucking business, weirdo,” Aegon jumps into the conversation, giving Luke a sarcastic smile before he forces Aemond to stop glaring at their younger nephew and move away, whispering in his brother’s ear, “Don’t worry, no one knows, yeah?”

“It’s stupid,” Aemond replies, rubbing his hand against his face, “Why should I even think about hiding her, let alone doing it?”

“Because our Grandpa is a pain in the fucking ass,” Aegon shrugs, gently tapping behind Aemond’s neck affectionately, “Don’t worry, bro. You’ll figure this shit out. Just don’t be too touchy with her, ey? It’s just one fucking night, we gonna get through this together.”

“Yeah,” he looks up from his shoes, finding you and Hel waiting for them outside one of the courts, “It’s gonna be a really rough night.”

“Hey,” you say, giving him a questioning look when you notice his tense shoulders, “You okay, Little nerd?”

“Yeah, fine,” he shrugs, giving a soft quick smile before he motions for you to enter the court, a ghost of a smirk making its way to his face as he watches you sway your hips in a very evidently teasing way.

“So! We gotta team up!” Rhaena says, finding the balls and rackets ready on the benches, “obviously I’m with my sister.”

“And I’m with—“

“Me! Me!” Aegon nudges Aemond before he cuts Helaena off and wraps his arms around his younger sister, “We need to kick some ass, sis.”

“Oh, fuck yeah! Let’s show them who owns this place, right, Eggy?” 

“Yup, girl, go get our rackets. We gonna fuck them up so bad,” Aegon laughs when Baela makes a disgusting face at him, walking to the other side of the net, waiting for the first team to get in place, “Who you playing with, birthday boy?”

“Team up with Aemond,” Daeron tells you, sitting on the bench next to the fences, “I’m not gonna play, it’s not in my style.”

“As if you don’t have the most expensive racket among us,” Jacaerys says, rolling his eyes at the youngest Targaryen before he grabs Luke by the shoulders and they go to sit down next to Daeron, waiting for Baela and Rhaena to play with the oldest siblings.

“Hey! I just wanna let Hel’s bestie have some fun!” Daeron throws his hands up, sticking his tongue out for you when you snicker and stand beside Aemond.

“Thank you so much for your generosity, asshole.”

“My pleasure! You gotta have some fun, right?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s got a mouth on him. I can beat him for you, you know?” Aemond whispers, leaning down so no one hears him.

“Is that right?” You give him a teasing smile, humming and looking up at him, finding him blushing under your gaze, “That would be so hot though. I mean, imagine your brother’s blood on your white Polo Tennis shirt.”

“Actually, I can wipe the blood off with my money. Does that turn you on?” He narrows his eye at you, his silver hair shining under the burning sunlight before he asks you silently to hold his racket before he starts shifting his hair into a low steady bun, making his shirt rise up and you get a really good peek at his abs.

“It does actually,” you reply, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, handing him his racket, “So you better keep your distance from me, I might jump on you.”

“Oh, no, so scary!” he pouts a little, side-eying Aegon and Helaena as they play with the twins, “I desperately hope it does happen.”

“Cheeky brat,” you chuckle, sending him a sly wink, walking away from him towards the benches, sitting down without looking back at Aemond, knowing he will definitely follow you.

“They’re a power couple,” Daeron says, watching Helaena and Aegon argue over the missed shots like kids, Helaena twisting Aegon’s ear with her fingers.

“Nothing beats Aemond and Alys though, right?” Jace laughs, “She couldn’t even swing the goddamn racket! Man, Aemond, you had so much patience with that one.”

You tense in your seat, glancing at Aemond who only looks unbothered by Jace’s remark — silly or not — but you can see it in his eye that there is something brewing in his blue iris.

“Well, lucky us! We have this babe to make up for that witch’s mistakes,” Daeron nudges you, grabbing his cap before dropping it on your head, “She’s a pro! Don’t fuck with her cause she bites.”

“Not that I would mind—“

“Enough,” Aemond interrupts Jace, the icy glare he sent in his nephew’s way is enough to make the young boy shake.

“Ooo, man, are you jealous?” Luke jumps in, snorting when he sees Aemond’s clenched jaw, “I mean I don’t think having a thing for your sister’s bestie is something you should really do—“

“I’m nothing more than a friend to him. I understand him, I think that says a lot about our relationship right? You know, what’s that thing called when you understand someone? When you’re willing to talk and show them you care?” You raise your eyebrows at Luke, leaning forward to look him dead in the eye, before gasping and humming sarcastically, “It’s called empathy! I’m sure the concept is lost on you but not me.”

“Right, kidos! Buckle up, you’re next! We gonna make our birthday boy a sour looooooooooser!” Aegon announces, making his way towards where you are sitting, sweat dripping from his nose on his shirt, “Come on, I’m on the right fucking track, baby.”

“Ew, you’re just fucking disgusting,” Helaena shakes her head at his older brother, “But he’s right. Sorry, ladies, not a fair game I know! A junkie and a professional player make a powerful team.”

“I’m not a junkie!”

“Then prove it or Aemond will beat our asses!”

“Oh, come on!” Rhaena whines, pulling on the zipper on the side of your dress gently, “This is not just a formal party! It’s Aemond’s birthday, we need to have some fun!”

“And having fun doesn’t mean smoking whatever that is in my room!” Helaena says, clasping her butterfly clips on her wavy hair, the soft, shiny strands falling around her shoulders, “We should take this fun to the boys.”

“Babe, we both know Aegon won’t let us take even one whiff of this if he gets his hands on it,” You chuckle, thanking Rhaena before you walk towards where you have left your heels, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on.

“Actually, I’m just trying to avoid getting high before having a meal with that man,” Hel shrugs, her golden dress hugging her curves beautifully as she twirls and asks for final approval, “besides, Otto and Uncle Gwayne are coming, and I seriously don’t wanna make a fool of myself!”

“You’ll do just fine,” Baela says, putting her hands on her hips, “It’s not Viserys you should be worried about. He can’t do much, but my father? Keep an eye on him.”

“I doubt he’ll do anything irrational tonight,” Rhaena reassures Hel, resting her hands on the silver-haired girl’s shoulder, “He might try to annoy the living life out of Otto but that’s it.” “I just—”

“Darling—Oh,” Aemond barges into the room, lips parted in surprise when he finds you and his sister in the company of his cousins, “Ladies.” “Hey! You probably shouldn’t be here, darling brother,” Helaena says through gritted teeth, trying her best to cover the mess Aemond nearly made, “I’m quite busy, maybe you should talk with her, right?”

“Yes, absolutely, darling sister,” Aemond then looks at you, extending his hands for you to take, and you do, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing out loud, “I just wanted to know your opinion on something if that’s alright.”

“Yes, yeah, perfect! Let’s go,” You walk side by side outside the room, closing the door behind you as you follow him towards his room, not daring to even look at each other just in case.

“You look so gorgeous,” Aemond says, pressing you against the door as soon as he shut it, looking down at you with nothing but pure affection in his eye, “All this for me?” “Yup,” you wrap your arms around his neck, smiling from ear to ear, “Anything for my man.”

“I might lock you up,” he leans down, brushing his nose against you while his grip tightens on your hips, “You look too good to let you leave this room.”

“Isn’t that right? Well, too bad for you, Aemond Targaryen, I’m invited to a very important dinner and it’s my boyfriend’s birthday, he’ll be so upset if you lock his girlfriend up in your room.”

“Will he now?” he chuckles lowly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he starts kissing and nibbling on your skin, mindful not to leave any marks, “poor guy, he doesn’t know I can throw his girl on my bed and fuck her ‘till sunrise. I pity him, truly, you’re even wearing green, my…” “Maybe I just wanted to impress someone,” you scratch his nape, humming softly as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, enjoying the subtle touch.

“Consider me impressed,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your earlobe before he brings his face back up, pressing his lips to yours gently, tasting the sweet lipgloss from your lips, “It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt this happy on my birthday.”

“Even while you were with Alys?”

“What?” he asks, taken back by your sudden question. The only time you have ever mentioned his ex was when you were hesitant to get into a relationship with him, but now, it shocks him to his core, “Why would you say that?” “I didn’t mean it like that, Aemond—”

“No, you clearly have been thinking about her for some time,” he lets go of your hips, stepping back to sit on his bed, “What’s going on?”

“Aemond I…” you sigh, resting your head on the door as you ponder about what to say, “I didn’t mean it like that. Everything is new about our relationship and I… I don’t want to sound bitchy but when they mention Alys…I just feel like there’s a lot that is left unsaid about her and by extension left unsaid about you.”

“I’ve never lied to you, I’ve been open about-about everything! Where does this sudden insecurity come from?” Aemond asks you, huffing from his nose as he watches you scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Insecurity? Aemond, all I meant was that if you felt happy with Alys too! You don’t have to put a fucking mask on when you are around me!” “Of course I was fucking happy!” he yells, hiding his face between his hands, “I wouldn’t think about marriage if I wasn’t happy!”

“But you just said—” “What is this? A fucking trial because I wanted to show I appreciate you and how much I care about you? I just wanted to make you feel special because you are special to me,” he replies, shaking his head before he lets out a water chuckle, “I don’t even know what to think.” “Little nerd, please just—” As soon as you try to reach for him, he stands up, and for the first time you take a good look at his outfit; nothing too special just a dark grey button-up with black pants, but it suits Aemond so well in a way that makes your heart clench tightly in your chest.

“I’m leaving, don’t be late,” with that he leaves you alone in his room.

Waiting in the corner of the dining hall with a glass of champagne while everyone greets — or tries given the family feud — Otto and his oldest son, Gwayne, is not how you thought your boyfriend’s birthday was going to be spent. 

You try to make yourself as small as you can, not making eye contact with anyone while gazing out of the large windows, waiting for everyone to shake hands and appear happy. 

You spot Aemond on the other side of the hall, giving his Uncle Gwayne a side hug before he steps back, watching as Daeron throws himself in his uncle’s arms. But that is not what catches your attention the most — it is Otto who approaches Aemond slowly, an emotionless expression on his face as he extends his hand for his grandson, waiting for a handshake. Aemond nods and shakes his hand, reaching to grab a glass of champagne himself when the waitress walks past him.

Suddenly, his eye finds you, and you feel as if he’s pulling you in just by a glance. His gaze is drowning in emotions, and even from such a distance you can feel him tugging at your heart.

“Trouble in paradise?” Helaena appears next to you, resting her head on the wall before she reaches and wraps her arm around your middle, “Talk to me, babe.”

“I think I fucked it,” you reply, frowning slightly when Aemond looks away from you, leaving you staring at him.

“Elaborate on that, because we had the same discussion a month ago,” she chuckles but when she receives only a sad smile in return, she grows quiet.

“I brought up Alys again…”

“Fuck her, my gosh, I don’t know why this woman won’t leave us be…” she sighs, grabbing your glass to drown your champagne.

“I think I should be getting drunk not you,” you chuckle this time watching her face twist at the taste of the bubbles, “easy there, soldier.”

“Spit it out, gorgeous, or else I’ll make a fool of myself and we don’t want Mighty Otto busting my ass for having fun.”

“As if he’ll ever do that to you, dumbass,” you thank the waiter when they bring a full tray of champagne for you, and you and Hel both take a glass before you find enough courage to talk about the mess, “You know how I am. I open my mouth and suddenly an intrusive thought comes out.”

“How bad was this time?” She asks, wincing when you bite your lip and shake your head, “Come on, I need to do damage control as soon as possible.”

“He said he’s never been this happy on his birthday for a long time and my stupid ass decided to ask even when he was in a relationship with Alys,” you spit the words out, clearly angry at yourself for ruining the moment, “It’s not just that, everyone around here talks about her. Luke, I think, has caught up on something between me and Aem. But… the comparisons, the hiding… it’s all exhausting even though I understand why Aemond does it.”

“He’s hesitant,” Helaena smiles sadly at you, “This is the first time after the breakup that he’s meeting all these people, especially after Mum found out it was Viserys who sent the paps to the church—“

“What?” You gasp, “I had no idea it was him! That’s so fucked up. Does he know? I mean…”

“He does—“

“Then why didn’t he say anything about it?” You cut your best friend off, watching as her amethyst eyes narrow at you.

“Because! He is hesitant about opening up! Babe, your relationship is new, his wounds are still open and a fucking bandaid isn’t going to stop the bleeding. You need to be patient with him. He likes you, hell he even fucking loves you! But please, don’t do this to him.”

“He basically lied to me— it’s fucking silly, why am I overreacting over my own fucking mistake?” You sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from falling down.

“Hey, hey, sweetie,” she cradles your head in his hands and rests your forehead on her shoulder, “I know how you feel. He’s been nothing but sweet, touchy, and absolutely lovely to you, and you want this to not change in front of other people. But please, he’s got many rumors going behind his back and now if anyone, especially Daemon, finds out about you and him, they’ll start telling people he cheated on Alys and that’s why she left.”

“But that’s not true, she— she left and all she did was use him for his money and status,” You sip on your drink, “I’m not like her, I’ll never do that to him.”

“Babe, I know that, but now? Aemond needs you more than ever, you’re not just a fucking rebound but someone who makes him feel at ease when he is around Aegon because he knows you’ll have his back.”

“Our fight wasn’t even about that… I don’t even know why I brought up Alys and why he got angry.” Helaena rubs your shoulders, pondering over what to say next.

“Okay, look at me,” you straighten your back and look into her eyes, “She is a really sensitive issue to talk about out of the blue. You shouldn’t have said that, I know you know this, okay? Aemond just wanted to spend time with you, and he’s still trying to push his pain down to kind of… I don’t know but he’s trying to run away from the pain and neglect it so you won’t feel like he’s the one using you. That’s why I think he got mad because he’s just trying and you hit him with ‘I know you're lying’.”

“Yeah, we haven’t had the important conversations yet,” you nod, smiling at her, “Let’s see if I can make him look me in the eye for a second so I can apologize.”

“He loves that you are here, he’s happy you are here. Don’t let someone from the past make decisions for you,” she links her arms with yours when she notices everyone is rounding the table to take their seats, “Come, let me introduce you to our uncle.”

“Sure,” you smile at her, walking side by side towards his siblings before finding his uncle; Gwayne, a tall man with auburn wavy hair and warm hazel eyes, and even a warmer smile.

“Well, hello there,” he greets you, reaching to shake your hand before he brings it up to his lips, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Helaena’s friend.”

You notice how Aemond’s eye lingers on his uncle’s fingers on your hand — does he want it to be him who is touching you? Maybe. Probably.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you say, retrieving your hand and taking your seat by Helaena’s side, Aegon sitting next to Aemond at the head of the table with Baela and Luke in front of them on the other side while Daeron and Gwayne sit next to Hel, Jace at the corner of the table.

“So, before we start,” Alicent stands up, holding her champagne glass in her hand, sighing softly to calm herself down a little and not let her nerves get the best of her, “I wish to raise a toast to my son, Aemond! You… you have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I could have never thought that little boy would turn into this wonderful man. I am glad to see you happy with your siblings and friends, and you will forever be my little boy. Happy birthday, darling!” “Hear hear!” Helaena raises her glass, and so does everyone, and you take the chance to take a good look at Aemond, surprisingly finding him already looking at you. You give him an apologetic smile, hoping he can see the sincerity in it, and to your luck, he does, giving you one of his quick yet soft smirks before he covers it with his glass.

“So, Aemond,” Viserys starts, and with the way Otto is looking at him, everyone can sense an unsettling uneasiness brewing, “how is your wife?”

Your breathing stops for a second, eyes wide in shock as you glance between Helaena and Alicent, both looking just as shocked and paralyzed as you while Aemond only glares at his father, his grip tightening around the rim of his glass, and you wish for nothing more

“Wow, Dad,” Aegon laughs sarcastically, catching everyone off guard, “How thoughtful of you to see if his wife is okay! Wow, I wonder who could have talked you into this,” he looks at Rhaenyra with a sneer shaking his head when he finds her cocking her to the side.

“We broke up—” “No, nephew, come on,” Daemon tsks, feigning disappointment, “Everyone was there! Your dad just forgot how your wife left you, right, Viserys?” “Yes, yes,” Viserys agrees absentmindedly, not even paying attention to the rest of the conversation.

“I’m glad she left, at least someone dared to leave this family,” Daeron mutters, earning a flare from Otto who has been eyeing everyone tonight, “What? Am I wrong?”

“Can we please just… eat something? It’s a birthday for god’s sake,” Alicent says quietly, clearly defeated, “Don’t do this tonight, please.” You sigh, squeezing Helaena’s hand while you desperately wish it was Aemond’s hand to hold on to, to tell him and reassure him that these people are just like that. Unfortunately, you can’t, but the stealing glances you share is enough for now. You will show and tell him about your feelings later tonight.

“I wonder though…” Jace starts, sounding unsure and a bit nervous, “Luke said he saw you kissing someone, Aemond. Why would you hide her from us?” This time, you choke on your food, coughing and trying your best to even your breathing, but it seems with all the eyes on Aemond and his eye on you, your little secret is spilled all over the table. “I’m not hiding anyone—” “After a failed almost marriage, don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious to get into a relationship this quickly?” Rhaenyra adds, looking at Alicent, “Were you aware of this? Because we just got the rumors to cool down, we do not need more of them flying around, butchering the reputation our father has worked so hard for.”

“As if sleeping with multiple men in a ‘loving’ marriage isn’t doing more damage to your precious reputation,” you mutter, anger bubbling inside you like a failed potion, stabbing your steak with the knife in your hand. You have no idea where this courage came from; one second you were choking on your food and terrified of people finding out, the next second you are defending your not-so-secret boyfriend as if your life depended on it.

“Atta girl,” Aegon whispers, but when you look up, it is Aemond who catches your breath away — maybe no one has ever stood up for him so fiercely and that is precisely why he is reluctant to show affection in front of his family to you. 

“My, this girl has a tongue on her,” Rhaenyra doesn’t say anything more than a simple sentence and continues to sip on her drink. “Who is the girl if you are so confident that he is in a relationship?” This is the first time Otto says something, and with how his steel eyes stare back at Daemon, you realize it is a matter of seconds for you to be exposed.

“It’s her,” Lucerys points at you, “I saw them kissing yesterday on top of a horse.”

“How romantic,” Daemon smirks at you before he looks at Aemond, and that is when chaos fucking ensures, “You seem to have a type, nephew; poor, older, beautiful, a runaway bride—” Aemond presses his lips into a tight line, his fist clenching and unclenching as he keeps his gaze locked on Daemon, not even sparing a glance your way.

“Hey,” Helaena whispers to you, grabbing your hands into hers, “You’re not those things, babe.”

“Is it true, Aemond?” Gwayne asks, a small smile on his lips, ignoring his seething father next to him, “Because we will be happy that you have moved on and found joy again.” “Come on, that’s bullshit,” Daemon starts, leaning on the back of his chair, “Does anyone look happy to you here? His ‘girlfriend’ is on the verge of tears, his mother looks like she might die and him? Does he look happy to have his relationship announced? If anything he’s ashamed he’s been caught dating another woman who will eventually leave him—”

Aemond bangs his fists on the table as he stands up, making everyone jump from their seats, but that is it. He doesn’t say a word, just a silent glare that he shoots everyone — even you — before he straightens his back and pushes away his chair, leaving the room wordlessly.

You follow him after a few seconds, gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands before running the path he took outside, finding him entering the field around the lake.

“Aemond, wait!”

He doesn’t listen to you and keeps walking to the edge of the lake,  bringing a hand to his face before he turns around and watches you run as fast as you can with your heels.

“What the fuck do you want?” “Aemond—” you scoff, laughing breathlessly, “What do I want? Maybe I want to talk to my boyfriend who just stormed out.” “Righ, right,” he chuckles but the humor is lost in it, “Or maybe you want to confront me about Alys again, how does that sound?”

“It sounds fucking ridiculous, Aemond—“

“You know what is ridiculous? Us!” He shouts, his voice cracking slightly, “Because however fucked up those words were, they were the truth.”

“You mean when they were insulting me, yeah? When they called me a gold digger?” You tear up a little as you look at him, trying to find a glimpse of your Aemond, “Do you think I will leave you?”

“No, darling,” he shakes his head, and you notice a tear falling on his cheek, “I know you will leave! Because that’s what everyone does! My father left, my brother left for years, my fucking fiancé who I would die for left! Why do you think you’re so special and different from them? You will leave as soon as you are bored of me!”

“Have I neglected you so much that you believe I will just walk away from you? Aemond, we’ve been together for so little time and that still won’t change the fact that I would set this entire place on fucking fire!”

“That means nothing!” He yells at you, walking away with his fingers threading through his hair, “Alys said all those things she still fucking left me! She said she loved me, she showed she cared, even if all of those moments were fake, I still believed her! Why do you think we will make it through this mess without you leaving me?”

“Because I was honest with you from the beginning, I was there for you when no one wanted to be! Your grandpa was fucking with your head about not getting into a relationship with anyone but I stuck with you through all the shit you went through because you mean the world to me!” You sob, trying to make sense out of whatever chaos his family has bestowed upon you

“No,” he shakes his head, walking away from you, “I’m not going to be the one who’s left alone at the end. I’m gonna do the leaving now before you get the chance to do it.”

“Aemond, no, please— I’m sorry!”

But your plea falls silent as you watch him leave you alone with a heavy heart, both of you hurting with each step he takes on the opposite direction.

“Please, Little nerd…”

[margo-mania]

Do you have any voltron fic recs for someone who has not watched voltron and barely knows what its about /gen

BOY HOWDY BESTIE DO I HAVE SOME :D klance fanfic is my favourite ao3 genre let me get you some good stuff that imo you dont really need a lot of show context (as someone who hasnt even finished the show) to get yippee!! (most of these will be klance so sorry in advance lol)

in no particular order i present some of my favourites

Freaking out on the interstate - au where lance picks up keith as a hitchhiker and they go through a roadtrip through the united states (slow burn, as a non american its super fun read, 1 chapter away from finishing)

Where the apple falls - CURRENTLY MY FAVOURITE ONGOING FIC its a really good post s8/post finale fic (again as someone who just knows the vaguest stuff about s8 i could understand it) ITS SO FUCKING GOOD OUGH...makes me cry every chapter (in a good way) i have done fanart for this one i really love the focus on keith (since a lot of stories are lance pov which i also love) the author is on tumblr @jupiters-junipers go follow them!! okay enough yapping i love this fic

A Vigilante and an Influencer: What Could go Wrong? - this one's another really fun modern au type deal thats keith pov (with a lance pov version being written atm actually!) :D

Roses and Waves - a soulmate au that uses my favourite soulmate trope(?) soul identifying marks. really chill but fun read :D

A love bug fic!? - this one's fun and obvs a love bug fic i really like the world the author's made

But Someday I'll Be Perfect (And I'll Make Up For It All) - MY FAVOURITE ONESHOT. OF ALL TIME. AND I MEAN IT I MEAN IT. i have printed this one out and glued it into my sketchbook i love it so much... i will recommend this fic til the day i die, i cannot put into words how much i love this one even if you dont like voltron or klance i think you could appreciate the writing. AUTHOR IS ON TUMBLR @autisticlancemcclain (their blog linked at the end of the fic)

Dear Reader - this one's a fun college au that includes tumblr as a main plot point :D - author's tumblr @heavilycaffeinatedsblog

And The Words Are Stuck In My Throat (But You Hear Them Anyway) - another one shot i really love by @autisticlancemcclain

And The Red on My Face (Matches you) - More by @autisticlancemcclain (man i'm realising a lot of my favs are done by them lol) this time it has a few chapters (though i think its unfinished?)

smokey the bear cant stop us now - Keith and lance are forest rangers. i havent re-read this one in a lil while but i remember loving it, i love the setting and the author actually got a job as a forest ranger half way through it iirc? unfinished but i 4000% recomend

Marked - another soulmark au, this time i really enjoy this one too

thats all from me for recs for now! yippe thank you for asking i'm always up for giving recs! :3

[ezdotjpg]

do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD

OH BOY DO I

In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD

You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.

There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol

It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol

This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.

I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.

these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF

I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.

Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!

I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol

I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D

[my-castles-crumbling]

OMG Clandestine is done!

I am so so so excited to say I just posted the epilogue to Clandestine! Featuring a beautiful commission from @itslotuseater!

Ships: Jegulus, background wolfstar, dorlene, pandalily, rosekiller Rating: M Length: 142k (FINISHED! COMPLETED! AHH!)

Summary:

He was crying. “You can do that?” He repeated, feeling like he was in some sort of dream. And then, Sirius seemed to realize. Because for a twelve-year-old, he was decently smart, and knew him better than anyone. “D’you…d’you want to do that, Reggie? I thought…I thought it was just a game?” But he could only shake his head. Because it wasn't a game. He was a boy. And he could tell from Sirius's nervously resigned expression that Sirius knew it, too. "It's...not a game." --- There's not enough Trans Regulus Black, so here's a fic to help fix the problem. Rated mature for lots of references to transphobia and Walburga Black being a piece of shit. COMPLETED (I'm not crying, you are)

Ahhh, my long-winded thank-you note:

First and foremost, thank you to Arson, my amazing Alpha Reader who brainrotted with me throughout almost the entire process. I literally could not have finished this without you, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. You've helped me through so many cases of horrible Writer's Block, encouraged me whenever I needed it, and you're an amazing friend. I hope you love your "Barty and Evan's Bitch" shirt :D

Second, to my wife, who literally dealt with me talking about this fic for TEN MONTHS. You're literally the most amazing and supportive person in my life, and I love you more than words. Thank you for being the James to my Regulus.

Third, to my Beta Reader, Kat, who is still wading through the trenches of this fic finding all my mistakes. I am so glad to have you and thank you for dealing with all of my errors and answering my messages at odd hours of the night.

Fourth, to all of the people who have encouraged me: Abby, Danielle, Kelz, everyone on the discord servers who has seen me struggle, you guys are amazing and I am so thankful to you.

Fifth, to the lovely people who created fanart for this fic. You all are amazing and you brought this to life. I bow down to you, truly, you are so incredibly talented.

Sixth, to the people who I interviewed about dysphoria and being on T, so I could have a more well-rounded understanding about Regulus's experience. Though I identify as trans, I am so thankful that other trans people were willing to give their experiences in areas I wanted to describe as accurately as possible.

And last, to all of you, who read and kudosed and inboxed and recommended and commented and kept me going. You all are amazing, and you've made this such a positive experience. This fic really was for me, to work through my own gender an discover about myself, and I am so thankful you have been here along this journey.

I want to reiterate that this is one trans person's journey, but I think it's so important to have representation in all forms of media. I'm hoping that my version of Reggie has helped with that a little bit! He's my baby, and he deserves all the good things.

Keep an eye out for the B-sides of this fic! I'll add a chapter to this work linking to it, so if you're subscribed to this, you'll get an e-mail. I'll also be editing this work to fix all the errors, and I'll be doing the B-sides as I go. It probably won't be for a couple of weeks, since I am now working, and I won't have any strict posting schedule, but I'm excited for those as well!

I love you all. Thanks for being a part of this journey.

[phecdasolar]

Tumblr I need your help I am in dire need of feral/unhinged Disaster Twins fics pleaseeee (and maybe Mikey as a bonus) I’m just in love with the idea of Raph being the impulse control for once with this iteration, and just the second he’s out of commission the other three go insane.

Weapons of War, Bioengineered Killing Machines, Manufactured Supersoldiers Rottmnt turtles my BELOVEDS

And maybe just like,,, set Leo and Donnie loose on one of the other dimensions and have them absolutely horrifically annihilate their counterparts’ villains while they watch on in horror

(B.E.A.S.T. was SUCH a good fic you guys oh my GOSH go read it I’m begging you-)

I NEED to have it addressed in fic form that the Rise turtles are fundamentally different than all their other counterparts, because their counterparts? They were accidents. Just a couple of turtles splashed with mutagen and oh look now they’re people but Green. (Huge oversimplification I’m aware but hear me out okay-)

But the Rise boys were created. They were specifically designed to be weapons of mass destruction. They were built with the intent to cause harm which means they were bioengineered to be stronger, smarter(?), faster, to heal quicker, to have the capacity to take hard hits while dishing out even harder ones, they were literally forged with a purpose to kill.

Add on their mystic powers? Then their unlocked Ninpo? You can’t honestly tell me that these four aren’t the strongest and potentially deadliest version of themselves out there.

Yes they still had to learn things, as did the other iterations, they weren’t immediately good (that much is obvious, like c’mon it’s IN the name) but I don’t think the other iterations possess the same instincts as these guys do. They’re just so. Unhinged. They’ve all had their moments in the show I think where it’s obvious they’re not really,,, stable. I love them.

In a plain fists only, maybe weapons, no powers fight, I do think some of the other iterations would win, but purely because they have way more experience than these guys do. (If I did any crossovers I’d say 2003 and 2012 are definitely older than these guys, especially if we’re basing this at the end of their shows) But put them against each other when they’re still at the same level? Rise is whooping butt, I know where I’m placing my bets. It’s called RISE of the TMNT for a reasonnnnnn they’re not there yet but they WILL BE, and as of the end of s2 and the movie I say they’re finally THERE.

I have no idea how this turned into a headcanon rant this was just supposed to be me asking for fic recs hsgdjdjdk it’s almost 3 am tho so whatever sorry if none or some of this is incoherent o7 o/

Editing this with a list of fics I have been graciously recommended below the cut:

Firefight by remrose [42/43 chapters 208k words] (edit: JUST FINISHED READING ch38-42 WATCH ME BAWL MY EYES OUT I was rotating them in my brain all morning at work) less on the feral side, more on the gut-wrenching angst side, still Disaster Twins and still super good

In Which Donnie and Leo Make Themselves Everyone Else's Problem in an NYC That Isn't Even Their Own by YukiSkyes [7/? chapters, 18k words] the CLASSIC “the Disaster Twins are unapologetically causing chaos” fic, always a delight to read

The Lemon Leak by TurtleSoupSwimmer [27/37 chapters, 143k words] I’m being told it’s very true to the theme here, and it’s very angsty, a suspenseful psychological thriller, and will make you scream at your phone. I for one am very intrigued

Eschatology by aenor_llelo, Alderous, ConcoctionsFromHell, izziel_galaxy, Jaybird314, Otakuforlife19, and Rocket999 [17/17 chapters, 344k words] “HEAVY on the boys being biologically engineered to destroy the world, it also delves into so much character building and worldbuilding that we never got in canon, and it gives even super minor characters the chance to shine” Sounds intriguing, AND it’s a BNHA crossover which I am a big fan of :D

The Hunter’s Bible also by TurtleSoupSwimmer [2/2 chapters, 15k words] Rated Mature, contains themes of SA and c@nnibalism so PLEASE keep that in mind!! Not a fic for the faint of heart this is a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! The SA is only attempted, and never shown, only implied, and it’s only in ch 1, but the other stuff is fairly descriptive and takes place in ch 2. All that being said, flipping UNHINGED, just about lost my mind in ch 2, it was entertaining in a surreal kinda way if you get what I mean. Funky little feral creatures

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 2 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers~ 

♡ Rated: L for Loathe

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! 

♡ Chapter Warnings: Y/n and Jk tension, mentions of substance abuse (alcohol), mentions of Jungkook getting reealllyyyy drunk, <— throws up 😬, Jimin is best boy and the bestest friend but my man is ready to throw hands… 

♡ Word Count: 11.6k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Honsool by Agust D— see masterlist for full playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @teawithhoneyandlemon for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! 

♡ Author’s Note: This chapter is the calm before the storm, but we ain’t slowing down at all for part 3 >:) ~ Y’all can thank Smoke Sprite for this hehehe (it just came out when I wrote this)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » next chapter

Seven months later…

Knowing what you know now, you felt bad that there was ever a phase in your life when you hated Jeon Jungkook. Hate was a strong word, you know that now, and you knew it back then too; but it was always the first word that would pop into your head whenever you’d think about the man. 

Ever since your first day at Golden Tech, he made your life working at the company an actual living hell. You loved your job, and you were dedicated to it a hundred percent. You had worked way too hard to get where you were to slack around. You were living your dream— you were still young, working a stable, well-paying job at a high-end tech company, you had great coworkers for the most part… There was nothing to complain about besides the person who supervised your department. 

That’s what made it so frustrating. 

And to make matters worse, it was probably for the dumbest of reasons. Sure, no one wants coffee spilled on them, you would have gotten a little mad if you were in that situation; but there was no need to make someone’s life miserable because of a simple mistake— for years.

It’s not like you purposefully ran into him. You both had just turned the corner at the same time and bonked into each other. It happens. Some of your coworkers said you should have gone to his office later and begged for his forgiveness, but you thought that was ridiculous because it had just been an accident. A simple, unintentional mischance that could have happened to anyone.

It’s also not like you didn’t try to apologize— you both ran into each other the very next day, and as soon as you saw him, you hurried to catch up to him to tell him how sorry you were; you even offered to pay to get his suit cleaned or replaced. Jeon Jungkook hardly paid you any attention as he said it was fine and walked away with his posse of executives following him. It was strange, but you hoped that it just meant that your first meeting was water under the bridge and things would be fine. If you knew what you were in store for, you probably would have quit right on the spot, but not before you gave him one good, firm slap on your way out.

No, your ambition clouded your vision each time Director Son would give you assignments straight from the boss himself, and it was always mountains above your coworkers. You wanted to believe he saw potential in you, that maybe this was just an initiation into the office and all the newbies were given more work straight from the Head Director himself to showcase their abilities. This was just a test, you kept telling yourself for far too long, and in the end he’s going to see just how capable you are, earning his respect like everyone else did at some point. There weren’t that many people who worked on this floor in comparison to the rest of the building. All the teams were on the smaller side, so you figured this was just a tight-knit department you needed to steadily break your way into.  

That’s how you kept yourself cheerful despite how it seemed like every night your workload would have you staying in the office until the wee hours of the morning trying to get everything done. 

Everything changed when you weren’t the newest employee in your department anymore. Jungkook was oh so welcoming to your hoobaes and would give them slightly less work before steadily building up to the overwhelming amount everyone was eventually given. It wasn’t great, but it was lightyears ahead of what you experienced during your first few months at the company.

You kept telling yourself that there had to be a reason. You never really spoke to him, there was hardly any opportunity to piss him off; surely there was more of a reason than the incident on your first day.

The next person who joined the department after you did, you slowly began to notice the difference from your initial few months, and at first you had tried to come up with this whole theory in your head that maybe he was flirting with the newest member of the team. She was pretty and a lot of the guys around the office talked about her. You figured your boss might be like them, just another man trying to get into her pants, and for some reason easing her workload was his way of flirting.

That theory quickly died when Taehyung told you he was married despite you both apparently being the same age. Then Hoseok started working at the company and was given the same special treatment as her. Jungkook was seemingly nice and welcoming to everyone else but you.

That’s where your… annoyance, turned into hatred, because at the end of the day, you knew this was all simply because you had ACCIDENTALLY SPILLED COFFEE ALL OVER HIS STUPID, EXPENSIVE ASS SUIT (you checked when you got home how much it would cost you to replace it. If he would have taken you up on your offer, it would have had you living on ramen alone for months) AND HE JUST WANTED TO MAKE YOU MISERABLE BECAUSE OF IT. 

And maybe, just MAYBE, if that was the only suit he owned, you would have understood his pettiness a little better. You have this one nice dress you splurged on when you found out you’d gotten an interview for Golden Tech, and if someone had messed it up, it would have taken a lot more than an “I’m sorry” for you to fully get over it. But every day your coworkers would talk about how expensive his suits were, all belonging to brand names guys around the office knew about and would rave over. They would stand around sighing about how handsome he looked and how they felt like they needed to pay him just for gazing upon his presence.

It was a little dramatic, and even though Jungkook was never around to hear it, you always thought it was just another way to kiss his ass a little harder, vaguely hoping for the chance he would hear and reward them for their willingness to bend over backwards for him. 

But that’s besides the point. One thing was clear from their words: Jungkook had money, and a lot of it, there was absolutely no valid reason for him to be that upset at you.

So you despised him. 

You hated Jungkook longer than anyone at the office did. At first, they just seemed confused whenever you would rant your troubles to them— saying things like, “he normally wasn’t like this.” But as months turned to years, Jungkook’s pettiness began spreading to all the employees who worked under him. You couldn’t say he was the best boss in the world when you first started working at the company, but as the days passed, he seemed to get that much more rigid, cold, and reclusive.

It probably hadn’t even been a full year after you started working at Golden Tech, when all the employees joined you in complaining about how annoying he was to work for.

You used to see him all the time walking around the office doing this or that, but later on, you only saw him arrive but never leave. There were many instances in which almost everyone on the floor was given so much work, that you’d all have to stay past your normal hours; way too many times than anything reasonable. All he ever did was work, work, and work, making sure everyone was going above and beyond their job description. It was excessive, so much so that some people in your department ended up leaving because their job was interfering with their personal lives too much.

To make matters worse, everyone was always on edge. There were rumors that some of the people who were fired over the years were let go because they weren’t able to keep up with his outrageous demands. Some of your coworkers said that they left his office in tears because he basically belittled them to the ground, calling them worthless, and many other unspeakable things. It was awful. You never knew if this was actually true or not, no one really did, but it kept everyone on edge to the point that the mysterious Jeon Jungkook was feared amongst most. But it didn’t really matter to you. 

You used to think you had a good understanding of him. All your coworkers who were brought into the department before you would always say he was this bright-eyed, sweet, eager to please kid who everyone had high hopes for. Jungkook had never shown any of this during the time since you’d been working here, so you honestly doubted their assurances. 

According to you, ‘Jungkook’ and ‘sweet’ couldn’t even exist in the same sentence.

Jeon Jungkook was just a spoiled, rich kid who had no real interest in Golden Tech. He seemed to have no idea how to be a boss, was a sadistic asshole who got off on making people miserable, and was just there, waiting until the CEO position was handed off to him just because of who his daddy was— which you were sure would result in the crash and burn of the whole company.

A few months ago, he literally just didn’t show up to work for a week without any sort of notice. This left your department scrambling because important deadlines were coming up. When Friday rolled around the next week and he still wasn’t back, people kept asking where he was because certain things couldn’t get done without him at the office. He was basically MIA, no one was able to contact him. 

Jimin had emailed everyone later that day because the complaints grew too loud. Jungkook apparently had been diagnosed with pneumonia earlier that day and wouldn’t be in for a while. An excuse, for sure, but that didn’t explain where he’d been for the last week. Maybe he was off vacationing in one of the many homes his family owned around the world, while your team was left scrambling during his absence.

But it seemed as though you were the only one who harbored any real hatred for him. 

Many girls around the office would still fawn over his handsome face, making you roll your eyes every time, because all they needed was one glance their way and they were squealing like schoolgirls. Was that really all it took for everyone to forget how awful he was? You didn’t get it, not even one bit.

Even your friend was somehow pulled into the allure. When you’d pass by him in meetings, despite Solmi oftentimes being the listening ear to your rants about how impertinent you thought Jeon Jungkook was, she would still sometimes gaze at him sympathetically; it was something everyone around the office occasionally did.

“Something’s just off.”

“He wasn’t like this before, he was such a sweet kid.”

“Maybe it’s just stress?”

They would always have an explanation ready. You never understood why, but you weren’t working there yet when he was still “nice,” and they also weren’t on the receiving end of his pettiness directly.

Someone might laugh at the fact that you were still feeling the effects of your little incident nearly two years after it happened. But no matter how hard you worked, how many times you tried to apologize, nothing you did was ever enough to make him forgive you. So you opted to hate him, and you used that hate to fuel your ambition even further. 

In some strange way, Jungkook’s pettiness ended up helping you in the long run. All that hard work you put in made the other executives notice you. Due to your previous experience at another big tech provider, you were quickly promoted to be the manager of one of the finance teams when the position became available.

That just helped open even more doors for you. It was only a few weeks after celebrating your second year at the company (October 6th, 2023, a little over 24 months after you were hired— not that you were bragging or anything), when Director Son informed you about the promotion. The associate director position became available due to her retiring; apparently, even while being relatively new in comparison to the other managers and on the younger side, they still believed you would be the best one to take over the position.

Of course you took it. You were only twenty-six and now the Associate Director of the financial team for the Seoul division at a trillion won tech company that was led by the CEO’s son. Again, not like you were bragging, but your resume was insane.

As nice as the high was, this… this is when everything changed.

See, some might call you strange that you hated someone so deeply when you barely even knew them. You honestly had no clue about him, you hardly ever saw the man besides during the very occasional meetings; but most of the time, he only met up with Director Son and the old associate director to get updates. You could probably use your fingers to count how many times you both have spoken to each other. Any time you’d normally communicate would only be over email, and it didn’t help how much he was in his office. The only things you really knew about Jungkook were that you both were the same age, that he was the CEO’s son, and supposedly, that he was married.

That's what most people knew about him, and of course there were probably tabloids out there if you ever wanted to learn more, but you never found the need to know anything else other than the basics.

That’s why when Jungkook called you into his office after your promotion, you were in for a rude awakening on the fact that you never really know what goes on behind closed doors.

The meeting itself wasn’t that eventful. Jungkook just wanted to elaborate more on your new role as an associate director and inform you about your new duties on the projects your team was currently working on. However, you ended up feeling differently than expected. 

You’d spent the whole morning preparing for your first meeting with him. You had coached yourself the day before on how to approach it— you weren’t planning to be rude, but maybe a bit passive-aggressive; just enough to set a boundary to be taken seriously and establish yourself as a professional, not just some pushover. 

You’d picked out your best ‘bad bitch’ outfit the night before— not for him— but to give yourself the extra confidence you needed to stand up to the person who’s been the bane of your existence for the past two years. You wore a tight, black dress with gold buttons detailing all the way down the front. It was probably the nicest thing in your closet besides the dress you bought for your interview. You paired it off with matching gold accessories and black stilettos with a cute gold heel. You couldn’t tell someone how long you spent working on your hair and makeup this morning trying to get that last level of perfection. 

It was all worth it though. When you arrived at the office that day, you held your head high as you made your way to your desk. A smile was plastered on your face as your heels clicked through the halls. Your coworkers were staring and whispering while you walked past them, the attention making your heart swell, because at the end of the day, you knew they were only saying good things.

It gave you a nice confidence boost, but as the time ticked away, it was obvious to your friends you weren’t as composed as you wanted them to believe. As the time of the meeting approached, Taehyung and Solmi tried their best to calm you down as you rehearsed what you thought would happen later.

“Grrr, I’m Jeon Jungkook, and I hereby bestow you this mountain load of paperwork.” Solmi said dramatically, as she shook a piece of paper in front of your face before setting it down gracefully on your desk.

You cleared your throat. “I’ll take care of these, Director Jeon. And as the new associate director, I hope we can establish a more compassionate relationship.” When you finished, you eagerly looked up at your two friends.

“Yeah, she’s going to get eaten alive.” Taehyung sighed, concern filled his eyes the longer he stared at you. Solmi shared the same worried look.

“Calm down guys, I think I got this.” You smiled as you turned to your computer and saw the time. There was only an hour left.

“Y/n, we’ll wait for you as close as we can. Scream if he tries to eat you.” Solmi said as she rested her hand on your shoulder.

You looked over at Taehyung, who seemed to grow more worried by the second.

“I’ll be fine. If anything, he should be more scared that I’ll eat him first.” You laughed a little too hard, but seeing the look on Solmi’s face made you realize that might not have been the best way to phrase it.

No matter the amount of smiles or jokes you shared with your friends, nothing could stop the anxiety from creeping in, it just made you even more terrified of what might happen later. You were worried if you’d even walk out of it still having a job (let’s just say you had a lot you wanted to say to him, but one wrong move would be enough for you to derail from your well-rehearsed script and finally spill that can of worms full of deep seeded anger).

When the time finally arrived, Secretary Yu told you Director Jeon was in a meeting and that you could have a seat in his office for the time being. You bowed at her words, but on your way in you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because of course he was late. You were so busy cursing him out in your head, it didn’t even register that you were in his office for the first time until the door closed behind you. 

You were shocked to find you weren’t greeted with a demon’s lair like what you had expected. His office was relatively modern, with lots of black furniture— it was sleek and expensive like everything he owned. There were a couple of plants sitting around that added a nice splice of greenery. His office also had a big window with a nice view to the right that overlooked the city. However, what you were most surprised to find were all the family photos sprinkled around the place.

There were some that sat on his desk but your eyes were immediately drawn to the three big pictures on the wall beside you as you came in. 

The one that sat right in the middle you were sure was a family photo of the Jeon family. You recognized the CEO sitting on a chair that almost looked like a throne. There was also a small, slightly older, beautiful woman who was dazzlingly dressed sitting on a stool next to him, holding his hand, and two boys stood behind them. One you instantly recognized as Jungkook, only a little younger— maybe college-aged, and standing right behind him was a man who looked like he could have been his twin. He stood maybe a few centimeters taller and shared the same face, except he had a few more of his mom’s features, his sharp eyes for example. You had to assume it was the brother you heard your coworkers talk about from time to time. On the other hand, Jungkook was nearly the spitting image of the CEO, only decades younger.  

What you paid the most attention to was their smiles. Everyone in the picture looked so happy, all big smiles that seemed to resemble the CEO’s. It felt almost strange seeing how happy Jungkook looked in the picture. You honestly thought he was incapable of smiling. 

It was like a whole different guy was in the picture.

When you looked at the photo that sat on the right, closest to where you stood, you were greeted by a very cinematic shot of Jungkook and who you could only assume was his wife on their wedding day. He had lifted her by her waist and they were lovingly staring into each other’s eyes, again with big smiles plastered on their faces. Jungkook didn’t look too much older than he did in the first picture, and his wife also couldn’t have been much younger than him. It made you wonder how long they had been together. As far as you knew, he was married even before you started working for Golden Tech. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-four, but just based on the picture, he definitely looked younger than that.

They must have really loved each other… You couldn’t imagine being married now, let alone years ago.

But everyone had been right, she really was pretty. How was he married? You couldn’t help but wonder how his wife was able to put up with his pretentious ass. You could barely deal with him and you hardly knew the man. 

You felt for her in that moment.

Furthest from you was a picture you could barely see, but it looked like another picture from their wedding day. Jungkook and his wife in her gorgeous dress were sitting down on a fancy ottoman and a bunch of other people stood around them. Some you could recognize from the Jeon family portrait, so you just assumed all the others must be his wife’s family.

Again, seeing how happy he was in the picture was a little uncanny. There was no way that was the same man who made your life at work so miserable.

Looking at the photos only became more unsettling when the door was bursting open and you were suddenly faced with the actual, present-day Jeon Jungkook. Your eyes immediately snapped onto his, your mind went blank as you tried to process the fact that he was standing there right in front of you. He was stuck in place, he seemed just as surprised to see you in the way his startled expression turned into shock and his wide eyes peered over you. You barely registered the fact that Jimin was standing behind him, too busy trying to calm yourself from a near heart attack. 

It was suddenly so obvious why Jungkook didn’t seem like the same person in the pictures you had just seen. He looked different. It wasn’t only the fact that he looked a little older, but his eyes…

He looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept well in months. The dark circles around his eyes deprived him of that same cheery persona he put on for the camera. And maybe this was just you reading into it too much, but you couldn’t help but think he also just seemed… dismal? It was strange, but if you weren’t trying to be on your best behavior, you would have advised him to take a nap before starting your meeting.

If that wasn’t enough, he was also visibly thinner. Like you could still see a bit of definition as he moved underneath his expensive suit jacket, but his slimmer frame didn’t seem to help and only made him look even more tired.

Your coworkers might have been right; maybe it really was the stress. How hadn’t you ever noticed this before? Had he always looked like this but you just never realized?

“Uh, sorry we’re late. We were stuck in a meeting that went on longer than expected.” Jimin suddenly said, finally breaking the silence and making you snap out of your daze. 

It was only then that you realized you had practically been staring down Jungkook. To be fair, you had never seen him this up close before, at least not close enough to actually look at him. 

You quickly bowed.

“I’m sorry! Secretary Yu told me to wait. I—” You panicked, realizing how strange this might look that you were just standing here right in front of the door.

Your eyes immediately locked onto Jungkook’s waiting for the annoyance to hit his features, any sign to point to the fact that you gave him another reason to hate you, but instead he just seemed dazed. Your eyes tried to follow his gaze wondering what he was staring at, and you were left a little stunned to see him looking over you.

Did he forget you were coming today? What was going on? You glanced down, worried something may have gotten on your dress earlier during lunch and he was about to criticize you for your unprofessionalism, but you were just left confused when you didn’t notice anything, and the silence continued for far too long.

“Ummm…” Jimin looked over at Jungkook when he still hadn’t said anything yet.

You shrugged, just as perplexed as he was.   

When Jungkook still didn’t say anything, Jimin, like the angel he was, eventually took it upon himself to reassure you it was fine and that you had just startled them.

You bowed and apologized once again, your cheeks burned under the weight of their gaze, but Jimin just smiled and told you yet again it was fine. His comforting words and smile eased your beating heart a little more as he ushered you over to Jungkook’s desk. Not wanting to make things any more awkward than they already were, you quickly made your way over to one of the cushiony chairs that sat across from the desk. The whole time you felt their eyes nearly burn a hole in your skull, your skin warmed with each step you took, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you messed this up already. 

You figured Jimin must have finally managed to get Jungkook to snap out of whatever held his attention so deeply, he eventually came back into view and sat in his own fancy office chair in front of you, and Jimin chose to stand right beside him. 

Jungkook awkwardly coughed once everyone got settled trying to fill the silence in the room, maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you swear you saw his cheeks start dusting pink as he looked at you.

This could not be the same demon you’ve worked with for two years. Jungkook could hardly meet your eyes, seemingly trying to look everywhere else but you. He looked visibly flustered and… shy? Who was this man, and what did he do with the Jungkook you thought you knew?

“I’m so sorry, I—… um, sorry we were late. It’s nice to see you Y/n.” He commented softly with a smile. No, there was no way this was the same guy.

After Jimin took a moment to congratulate you on your promotion (he told you to visit his office later for a surprise), the meeting carried on rather uneventfully in regard to your conversation. Jungkook didn’t eat you, nor did you ever need to whip out any of your passive-aggressive responses that you’d practiced. To be honest, you were only halfway paying attention to everything that was being discussed. 

Your brain was far more interested in just observing him, picking apart all the little details you never had the chance to notice in the past: 

He had a mole that sat just underneath his lower lip, and anytime he’d be thinking about what to say next for longer than normal, he’d bite into the flesh and then you could see the little dot right there on full display. He also had a scar on his cheek— you barely noticed it, but when the light hit his face at just the right angle, you could see the indention. Or how come you never realized that he had a slight lisp when he talked? It was slight, only making an appearance if he started rambling for a little too long; you wondered how you’d never noticed it before.

It was quite obvious early on into the meeting that Jungkook was not this scary, evil monster who hid away in his spooky cave. Jungkook would speak, there were moments when Jimin would jump in to help, they easily bounced off of each other, and in between the business talk, they would sometimes joke around with one another. You hated to admit it, but you found them a little cute as you watched them interact.

However, you still noticed that when Jungkook laughed, his smile never looked like the one in any of the pictures that sat behind you. His eyes wouldn’t crinkle, his top lip wouldn’t almost disappear, and that dimple that was on his left cheek never came into view— yes, he had dimples— multiple sets apparently that you had also never noticed.

If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was faking it, but the one other thing you knew about Jungkook was that he and Jimin had been friends for a long time. Jimin had mentioned to you briefly during the few occasions you’ve talked that he’s known Jungkook since the younger was in elementary school; and it was clear during the meeting that they were close.

The more you looked at him, the more you grew concerned. He definitely seemed… off. It was the same feeling that you’d gotten all those years ago about your friend in high school. His eyes, you just couldn’t get over the look in his eyes. They held the same emptiness that your friend Mi-Sun’s did all those years ago. His hair had grown to almost completely shield his gaze, but you still noticed. 

In the past, his hair would normally be shorter and slicked back with a fresh undercut always on display. It was a few months ago when he seemingly started to grow it out. When he walked in, it was obvious he had been running his hands through it in the way the dark strands were pushed back. Yet as the meeting continued, more and more strands would fall into his face, and he would go back to hiding his sad gaze behind his hair. It almost reminded you of the same look he had that day you spilled coffee all over his suit— even then he seemed tired and sad, but now it was so much more blatant.

It was almost immediately that your harbored hatred for Jeon Jungkook turned into genuine concern. You couldn’t believe this was the same guy who’d have everyone on the floor staying overtime almost every single day.

That didn’t necessarily excuse how petty he acted over the years, you didn’t forget, but it did make you feel bad about how you let your emotions get the best of you. 

The fact that Jungkook was the same age as you and managed everyone that worked on your floor— being associate director of your division’s financial team already seemed daunting— but you couldn’t even fathom the stress that came with his position. 

“Y/n? Did you get all that?” Jimin asked, breaking you out of your daze.

“Yes-yes! I’m sorry.” You stammered, trying your best to recollect yourself. 

“Just wanted to make sure you got everything. We covered a lot.” He laughed, but you were too focused on Jungkook shying away from your gaze— his face was definitely a little redder than before. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart ached at the sight. 

You had to get out of here.

“Thank you so much. I’ll be sure to email you if I have any questions.” You bowed your head slightly at them. 

If things couldn’t get any weirder, when you looked back up at him, you noticed Jungkook was staring at you— again with those same sad eyes. It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him out for dinner, or to tell him that maybe it would be best to take the day off or something— anything to possibly help get back the cheeriness he had in the pictures behind you. But you knew you would be overstepping a boundary, and since you were so new to your position, you felt it was best to not take a chance; so, after a few more awkward goodbyes, you left his office.

“I have to get this done, he has to see that I’m—“ The door shut behind you before you could hear the rest.

Instantly you looked around for your friends, and like they promised, you found them awkwardly standing not too far away from Secretary Yu’s desk trying not to make it obvious they were waiting for you. As soon as they saw you, you knew they wanted to ask how it went, but instead you grabbed Tae by the hand and quickly walked down the hall, ignoring Solmi’s confused remarks as you sped past her.

“Taehyung.” You said alarmingly as you both walked. 

“What happened? Did he start yelling at you or something?” Taehyung questioned very seriously, looking back the way you both had just come from. Apparently, you didn’t respond fast enough because he ended up stopping you both in your tracks. You looked over at him and could see the way his expression had shifted, his face was etched with concern now, and the underlying anger was not hard to pick up on. 

“Y/n, what happened?” He asked far more sternly, grabbing you by the shoulder so you’d look at him. You couldn’t help but glanced down, noticing the way his other hand tightened into a fist.

“What? No— Just… What do you know about Director Jeon?” You quickly followed up with.

You could see the gears turning in his head.

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been here longer than me. What do you know about him?” You asked again, your gaze turned to worry as you looked back toward where Jungkook’s office was.

Taehyung was noticeably confused. “Why, what happened?” 

You sighed. “Nothing, I mean, we just talked but… I don’t know, he just seemed so… sad. It was weird.” 

“Sad?”

“You should have seen him Tae… it was like… I don’t know, he looked so tired.” You were honestly a bit worried. One minute you hated his entire existence, the next you found yourself seriously concerned for his well-being. 

It would be easier to hate him if he didn’t look like a kicked puppy.

The tension quickly faded from Taehyung’s features, he let his hand rest back down at his side and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I was wondering if you knew anything.” You questioned again when he hadn’t said anything, but Taehyung eventually shook his head. 

“I don’t have much to say, he’s always been a pretty quiet guy. I know nothing outside of what he does at the company, and that he’s married to that supermodel. Jimin would probably know, they hang out all the time.” 

You nodded while his words processed in your head. Taehyung was probably right, Jimin was the best person to talk to. You wanted to think there was a chance at the explanation being simple, like maybe he was having a rough day or something, but that didn’t stop you from being worried.

You had a feeling it wasn’t that straightforward.

“Yah, you had me scared for a second.” Taehyung breathed out a shaky laugh. 

“Why? You didn’t think I could handle myself in there?” You chuckled lightly, recalling how serious he got. 

“No, you’re perfectly capable. It was me I was worried about. I thought I was going to have to put my job and freedom on the line.” The way he said it carried that same comical tone, but there was something very serious as well in its implications. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant by that. 

You looked at him wide-eyed for a second, a bit at a loss knowing he’d be willing to go that far for you. Even in the worst-case scenario, you wouldn’t consider losing your job, and certainly not going to jail, over something like that. 

Taehyung returned your gaze and smiled at you, warm and reassuring as always, before you both finally started to hear the hurried clicking of Solmi’s heels making it around the corner. 

“Yah! Why did you guys just leave me?!” 

•────•──────────•────•

Jimin's role at the office made his life more complicated than it needed to be. Besides being Jungkook’s friend, his job also had him working a lot more closely with the younger in comparison to the other executives. He was the associate director to Jungkook’s position, and pretty much handled a lot of the grunt work. He would always step up to his friend’s role whenever Jungkook wasn’t in the building, and he was already in line to take over the next time Jungkook was promoted. Jimin was in great standing in contrast to others around his age, and he would always be eternally grateful to Jungkook and his family for giving him this opportunity. However, balancing the crazy workload Jungkook always asked of him— everyone in the department really, plus just trying his best to be there for his friend, was a task he sometimes questioned if he could manage.

Because of the way he bounced between being by Jungkook’s side and working with managers in the office, he was oftentimes caught in the middle of the drama and heard all the gossip and rumors that would go around. People in the department would complain, and there was some part of him that sympathized with their woes because his friend would really go off the deep end at times with his demands, but there was the other side who was still Jungkook’s friend. Jimin had to deal with Jungkook deteriorating right before his eyes, while simultaneously being subjected to hearing his colleagues badmouthing his friend, who to him, was clearly suffering. Jimin couldn’t even say anything. He was watching his best friend fall apart, and having people say the worst things about him, all without them knowing what he was going through, made it difficult to stand idly by and listen. 

It wasn’t even like he could tell them because even he didn’t truly know what was going on. 

Jimin had cherished the day Jungkook began opening up to him after he started to notice something was wrong. Just as Jungkook seemed to get more comfortable in sharing the issues he was dealing with in his marriage, at the beginning of the year was when those walls came back up thicker, higher, and practically impenetrable. 

Jimin had hoped that it meant things were getting better between him and Yuri, but it was painfully obvious Jungkook was just getting worse and worse as the days went on. You weren’t the only one noticing how much he changed. Jimin was by his side the entire time as he saw firsthand how life continued to drain out of him as the days went by. 

Jimin had seriously tried his best to be there for him, but no matter what, Jungkook continued pushing him away. He would brush off any of his concerns and drown himself— and everyone else around him—  with work.

It was hard to watch.

Jimin could never forget what happened a few weeks ago. He came to work early on Jungkook’s birthday to drop off a gift with the hope to surprise him later when he’d come in, but instead was nearly scared shitless once he opened the door and turned on the lights to find Jungkook passed out at his desk. There was a bottle of vodka and enough empty cans of beer covering the surface to almost shield him from view and encase him in completely.

Jimin had known Jungkook was going to stay overtime the day before, he’d even seen the beer he brought in, but he brushed it off thinking he was simply restocking the mini fridge in his office. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to share a drink together after hours, a good beer was always the perfect remedy to wash away their stress. However, it was obvious from the overturned box that he’d drunk the entire pack all by himself, plus the vodka he had no idea Jungkook even had in here. 

That was not it. As Jimin looked around his office, he found another box had been opened, and he wondered if it had fallen off his desk because of the way the cans were sprawled across the floor (definitely less than the twelve that came in the pack). As Jimin steadily got closer, he noticed one of the cans was tipped over beside him, the sticky liquid pooling on his desk, like he’d passed out with the drink still in his hand.

It was a concerning sight to say the least, and nearly gave him a heart attack as he hurriedly rushed over to make sure his friend was ok (alive). His mind raced with the worst thoughts possible as he tried to shake him awake.

Jimin had planned the whole day out to give his friend the best 26th birthday in the history of birthdays. What was supposed to be the start of a celebration turned into a nightmare when Jungkook didn’t immediately wake up. It was honestly a miracle he did. It took some time; it was like the universe itself had slowed down as he waited for something, anything. Tears had welled up in his eyes, Jimin had been so close to calling 119, when in a fit of desperation he slapped Jungkook’s back a little too hard. That was apparently enough to finally get him to stir awake.

“Owwwwww…” Jungkook moaned, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to reach back and rub the spot where it ached.

Jimin had a lot to say, most of which he figured went in one ear and out the other since Jungkook was clearly still drunk. He hated nagging, especially when his friend was out of it like that, but he really had scared him. Jimin pulled him into a hug as he went on and on about how stupid he was.

“Why you soooooo loud?” Jungkook whined, pulling out of Jimin’s arms and laying back down on his desk.

“Because— Jungkook, have you not been listening? Do you know how much you drank?!” Jimin nearly yelled pointing to all the cans and the vodka bottle that practically covered the desk.

“Shhhhh! I ne— have wake up for work later… I’m trying to sleep…” Jimin found it hard to understand him because of the way his words slurred together, like somehow he could understand that.

“Didn’t efen dink much.” Jungkook mumbled, as if it was any other Friday, and Jimin was being overdramatic.

As much as he could have kept the battle going, Jimin made the executive decision that there was no way in hell Jungkook would be able to work today, let alone ride along for his birthday surprise. He was better off trying to sleep this off.

Somehow Jimin was able to get him downstairs, but by the time Jimin was sitting him down in the passenger seat of his car, his arms ached, and his whole body screamed in fatigue. He was stuck carrying Jungkook’s entire weight all the way from his office to the elevators, where he needed to wait for the elevator to go up twenty stories, before going back down those same twenty stories, and then truck through the entire parking garage because his dumbass thought it was best to park in his usual spot, all the way at the far end.

Jimin wanted to be annoyed, he wanted this to just be a one-time thing that they both could laugh about in the future, but there was definitely something wrong. Something was wrong all the time, but there were too many signs for this situation to be passed off as just a “rough night.”

This wasn’t his first time carrying Jungkook. Jimin liked to occasionally pick him up to emphasize “just because you’re taller, doesn’t mean I can’t still swing you around,” mainly to show off his efforts in the gym— but Jimin could tell over the months, years even, that his friend had grown lighter. With the way he needed to carry him, his arm wrapped around his waist, he could really tell just how much thinner he’d gotten. 

And there still was the question of what made him drink so much…

Jimin’s head was swirling with worry as he got in his car, wondering what he should do from here. He’d considered taking Jungkook to the hospital, he had no idea how much he really drank, but the fact he was able to make it downstairs he figured meant he was ok enough to sleep this off, hopefully. 

He sighed and turned over to Jungkook who was already passed out beside him. Jimin reached over to open his suit jacket and fished out the phone in the pocket he’d placed it in. Somehow the facial recognition still worked with Jungkook’s passed-out face, and Jimin was able to pull up his contact list.

Yuri 💞

Jimin rolled his eyes seeing the hearts next to her name knowing how fake that emoji was.

“It’s like we’re a real couple now…” Jungkook had nervously chuckled that day he changed Yuri’s contact in his phone— merely hours before his engagement party.

How Jungkook hadn’t ended up changing it was beyond him. 

Yuri 🖕🏻was more appropriate in his opinion.

Jimin took a deep breath before he hit the call button. Now, Jimin loved using the word hate when it came to Yuri. While he wasn’t aware of all the details of their relationship, Jimin just knew deep down she was the reason for Jungkook’s rapid decline— maybe it’d been her fault he drank so much. 

It took a couple of rings, but Jimin was thoroughly surprised she actually picked up.  

“What—“

“Yuri, it's Jimin.” He was quick to interrupt her.

There was silence over the line for a while, like she was trying to remember who that was.

“Jungkook’s friend… coworker—“

“I know that— what— why do you have his phone?” For a split second, he believed she sounded a little concerned.

“I thought you would know— how did you not notice he didn’t come home last night?” Jimin was seething the more he thought about the possibility that this was somehow connected to Yuri, but he tried his best to keep himself calm for Jungkook’s sake.

“He told me he was working late.” She put it so plainly. 

“And you just let him? You do realize today’s his birthday, right?” Jimin just rolled his eyes as the silence continued on the other line. At the moment, the pieces seemed to click in his head. Was it the fact Yuri clearly forgot his birthday the reason Jungkook practically drowned himself in alcohol?

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t, but maybe it was, and that possibility was enough for him. Jimin had to take a couple of deep breaths to stop himself from screaming at her, but once again, he calmed himself down. Today was not the day for this.

“Anyway, Jungkook got really— really drunk last night, and I’m worried about leaving him alone. If you’re not already there, could you meet me at your apartment and watch over him? I would do it myself but I have work in an hour so—“

“Can’t you just put him on the bed or something? I don’t think he needs a babysitter—“

“Yuri, I don’t think you understand, he’s really—“ But before he could finish, Jimin suddenly turned to see Jungkook hurriedly pushing open the door. He couldn’t even question him before it became obvious that the nausea, which had made the whole journey downstairs that much harder, had finally taken its toll.

Jimin set the phone down and reached over to rub his back lightly. He tried his best to ignore the unpleasant sounds and the dry heaving that went on for a while; his heart ached seeing his friend’s pitiful condition. Things only got worse when it finally seemed to be the end of it, the sounds of soft whimpers started to fill the growing silence. 

“Hyung… I’m so sorry.” Jimin hardly caught it, Jungkook was so quiet and his voice was a little hoarse.

“Jungkook—“

Jungkook sat up and hesitantly faced him. His eyes were red and his cheeks were stained with tears that flowed harder the longer he looked at him.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.” Jungkook just sobbed. 

“It’s fine, please don’t—“

“This is so fucking embarrassing, I’m so sorry, this is so pathetic, I—I—“ 

“Jungkook, you're not pathetic,” Jimin interjected, trying his best to keep strong.

“Fucking threw up in the parking lot— can’t get much worse.” Jungkook choked out.

“It could be, don’t say that because this could get so much worse.” Jimin had a few ideas, mainly in the fact that he could have been stuck riding in an ambulance worried for his friend’s life. “By the way, are you ok? I was going to take you home, but we can stop by the hospital to make sure you’re ok if you need it.”

Jungkook lazily shook his head. “Just take me back to my office, I have to work—“

It was then that Jimin started the car. “Don’t even think about it, I’m taking you home.” Jimin buckled the both of them in and started making his way out of the garage.

“Can— hyung, can you go slower?” Jungkook mumbled, leaning back in his seat.

“Do you still feel sick?” Jimin grimaced as he briefly worried about his car’s freshly cleaned interior.

“Yeah,” just the mention of the word seemed to make him nauseous all over again. “My head hurts too—“ They finally made it out of the garage, the morning sun quickly filled the car. Like a vampire in disguise, Jungkook groaned and tried to duck away from the rays floating in.

“I’ll be gentle— luckily it’s early enough so there isn’t too much traffic, we should make it to your place soon.”

There was silence for a little while. In the moment, Jimin remembered the fact he’d never hung up the phone with Yuri, but one quick glance down, and he saw she’d left. All he could do was hope she’d be there.

“Hyung, I feel like so much shit.” Jungkook slurred. He’d closed his eyes, hoping it might help ease the nausea or how much his head pounded with every bump or slight turn in the road, but it wasn’t helping at all.

“Mmm I bet, get ready for the worst hangover of your life.” Jimin tried to joke, but all he got was a choked sob in return.

“It’s what I fucking deserve.” Jungkook blubbered as he looked out the window, tears quickly filled his eyes before they started falling uncontrollably. “Can’t make her happy, just want to make her happy! Hyung she’s so miserable, and it’s all my fault!” The breakdown had come out of nowhere, but it had Jungkook in its grasp and had no plans of letting him go.

Jimin had no idea what to do. They’ve had so many talks about it at this point, but Jungkook never went into enough detail for him to ever be able to really help him. Even while drunk, Jungkook seemed to keep the details about what was going through his head locked away, never to see the light of day.

“Jungkook…” Jimin reached over and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Are you ok?” The question lingered in the air in between Jungkook’s sobs. The more Jimin’s question seemed to dawn on him, the more distraught he became.

“And I mean this seriously, like clearly you’re not fine, but are you… fine?” Jimin had hoped he’d answer. A simple ‘no’ would have been a step in the right direction, but he said nothing, letting the tears stream down his face suffice for an actual answer.

“Because if something is wrong, you know you can talk to me, right? Anything, it could be anything that’s on your mind.” Jimin looked over at his friend as they approached a red light, taking a moment to realize just how pitiful he looked. His suit jacket had been thrown in the backseat, his tie was barely hanging on, his face was red and covered with tears, and Jimin had to stop every two seconds to help try and ease the nausea.

“I can’t lie, I’m really worried about you. If something is bothering you, please know you can tell me anything.” Jimin was trying not to get emotional, but he’d never seen Jungkook like this in all the years he’d known him. Ever since she came into his life, everything had gone to shit. He knew all of this was her fault and Jungkook’s decline was too painful to watch. 

Jimin was worried, so fucking worried actually, that he feared every time he’d leave his friend’s side. While all of this could just be ruled as some random drunken breakdown, Jimin knew it was a small window into what was going on inside his friend’s tormented mind.

“Please say you’d tell me Jungkook…” Jimin gently shook his leg, desperately wanting the reassurance that if things were as bad as he feared, that he’d say something. 

When Jungkook’s sobs stopped, Jimin hoped he’d give him an answer, but instead, he watched as Jungkook leaned up, and grabbed onto the dashboard while attempting deep, steady breaths.

“Hyung…” His voice was quiet yet pained. 

“Yes?” All Jimin wanted to know was that he’d say something. 

“Pull—“ A couple more deep breaths “Please pull over…”

It took a second for the words to register. “Wha— why—“

“N-Now!” Jungkook tried to emphasize as he quickly had to put his hand over his mouth.

Luckily for the both of them, there was an opening on the street up ahead. Before Jimin could question it any further, Jungkook was already stumbling out of the car and toward the trash can that was on the street corner.

Jimin never got that reassurance he needed, not that day, or any other day afterward. He wondered if Jungkook had heard him at all.

When Jungkook got back, he was crying all over again about how pathetic he was, the cycle starting anew. But it only took about two minutes before Jungkook passed out once again, and he was asleep until Jimin was shaking him awake when they’d finally made it to his apartment. 

The journey upstairs was just as difficult as going downstairs at Golden Tech. Jungkook had sobered up a little, but Jimin, once again, was stuck carrying him to the elevator. His exhaustion, the nausea, his head, everything really, made it hard for Jungkook to stand. Slowly but surely, they finally made it up to his door.

Jimin had hoped when they arrived that Yuri would be there. He knew, despite his own feelings, how happy it would have made Jungkook at that moment, and it was the least she could do after everything. He wanted to think maybe, just maybe, she’d show up, especially after Jimin had to remind her that it was her husband’s birthday. He hated the fact that he had let a glimmer of hope spark. Deep down he wished that his conversation with her earlier was all just an act to not spoil Jungkook of a surprise waiting for him back at their apartment. Even if that wasn’t the case, he still hoped that she would at least be there. But after Jimin punched in the code and opened the door, the apartment was just as empty as it normally was.

He couldn’t even say that he wasn’t surprised.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jungkook had somehow found the strength to wiggle out of Jimin’s grasp. Free from his hold, Jimin watched as Jungkook started clumsily wrangling out of his suit jacket Jimin had put back on him earlier. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight and went over to grab Jungkook’s phone out of the jacket pocket.

Yuri had texted since they came up.

‘Sorry, won’t be back ‘till late. Busy.’ It was short, blunt, and to the point.

Yuri wasn’t coming.

Jimin sighed. He didn’t know why he was expecting anything different; she couldn’t even be by his side when he had pneumonia. Maybe it was for the best, he didn’t trust Yuri alone with his friend anyway.

“Hyuuuunnggggg…” Jungkook whined. Jimin finally looked up and noticed he’d stripped all the way down to his boxers.

“Is Yuri coming?” He asked as he flopped onto the couch.

“You know, the bed would be better…” Jimin chuckled lightly before walking over to him. He grabbed the throw that was draped over the couch and fluffed it over him.

“Too far…” He grumbled into the leather.

Mmm, of course.

“Hyung— Yuri…?”

“She said she’s busy.” Jimin tried to maintain a soft smile as he saw the disappointment settle in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Of course she is…” Jimin hated the way he saw Jungkook’s lip quiver. 

“It’s ok, I’ll stay by your side.” Work was out of the picture, Jimin knew better than to leave him alone when he was like this. “You know, I had this whole plan today to celebrate your birthday.” Jimin suddenly remembered he’d left Jungkook’s present back in his office, he forgot to grab it on his way out. “We can bring the celebration here though. I could start it off by making you breakfast—“

Jimin turned around to see Jungkook already fast asleep.

Not much happened that day, Jungkook didn’t wake up until the sun was setting. In that time Jimin had made a quick trip back to the office, both to tell everyone Jungkook was sick and wouldn’t be at work today, and to grab that present he had left.

Jimin went the extra mile with it, hoping the right gift would help put that pep back in his friend’s step. He was honestly very worried about the present as he prepared it, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook would like it as much as he hoped. What he didn’t expect was Jungkook’s teary reaction through his bleary eyes (despite the fact that he’d slept for the last 12 hours), as he peeled back the wrapping paper.

“You used to play all the time back when we were in high school and college, maybe getting back into it would be good for you.” Jimin smiled.

Sitting on Jungkook’s lap was the box of a new, sleek, black, custom-made electric guitar— the exact one Jungkook had told Jimin so many years ago that he wanted to buy when he started earning a good amount of money. 

“This… hyung what I would give to play this, but… Yuri hates it when I’m loud, I don’t think she’ll let me play it.” Despite his words, Jungkook continued to stare at the picture over the box, letting his hand lightly run over it.

Jimin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of that woman, tired of her always coming in the way of everything. “Well fuck her! Don’t let her stop you, she’s not even here right now. Please~ I wanted to see you play before I leave.” Jimin should have been a little more cautious with his words considering who he was talking to, but at the end of the day, he meant every word.

Fuck her!

Jungkook’s face dropped, looking less than pleased.

“Hyung, thank you so much for staying here with me today— and for the present, but maybe it’s best if you leave.” Jungkook suddenly sounded very serious as he spoke.

“Huh? What, why?” Jimin was confused at the sudden change in mood.

“I know how you feel about Yuri, but I don’t appreciate you speaking about my wife like that—“

“But Jungkook, you can’t possibly—“

“Leave hyung! Go— please just go!” Jungkook demanded, looking more pissed than ever.

In the silence that followed, this was when Jimin began getting angry. The longer he stared into Jungkook’s eyes, the more he couldn’t believe this was happening. How could Jungkook be choosing someone who hardly paid him any attention over the person he’s been able to count on and has known since he was in elementary school? 

“I can’t believe you’re fucking kicking me out and sticking up for the bitch who couldn’t even be here with you on your birthday.” Jimin angrily mumbled as he got up to put on his shoes. It was a low blow, Jimin could have phrased it a little differently since he knew he was hitting a sensitive topic. It wasn’t fair to Jungkook, but that was the only thing he regretted.

The silence that settled in the room was painful.

“I swear if you’re not out the door in five fucking seconds, I will end you!” Jungkook said slowly through gritted teeth, giving Jimin a glare that he was sure he would never forget in his life. He’d never seen Jungkook so mad, never thought it was possible to make him that mad, and it was over Yuri? 

Five seconds was too long before he heard Jungkook’s hurried footsteps behind him. It was probably only because of the haze of the hangover still weighing Jungkook down, that Jimin was able to grab his shoes, quickly slam the door behind him, and walk away unscathed.

Things just weren’t the same after that.

How could they be?

It’s like Jungkook was pushing him away, and as much as Jimin tried his fucking best to be there for him, he was only human and feelings got in the way sometimes. He regretted leaving that day, with how things played out, anything could’ve happened considering the way Jungkook had been acting lately.

Jimin seriously thought pushing Jungkook to seek professional help would be enough to bring his best friend back— he’d been ecstatic when Jungkook told him he was finally going to therapy, but it seemed that after the first session, he never went back… at least if he did, Jimin didn’t know about it.

Things were bad, probably worse if he knew the whole story. But that— that is exactly the reason why it pissed him off so much every time his coworkers would complain about Jungkook. How could they not see? It was plain as day that something wasn’t right.

That’s why when you came to his office later for your surprise (he gave you a celebratory bottle of expensive champagne) and asked him about Jungkook, it was like a breath of fresh air.

“Director Park, I hope this isn’t weird to ask, but—” 

“Did you have a question?” He interrupted, fully expecting this to be about your new position. 

“No— well, yes, but everything is clear from the meeting. It’s just—” You played with the bottle in your hands, trying to find the right words. 

“Director Jeon— is he… is he okay?” You seemed genuinely concerned, leaving Jimin too stunned to speak for a second.

See, Jimin didn’t hate you, but he knew— everyone who worked on this floor knew— that you didn’t like Jungkook, at all. Your reasons were a little understandable, considering the way his friend had treated you since you started working here.

Jungkook had no reason to target you because of a mistake you made years ago. Even Jimin had no idea why he was being so petty about it, considering he was normally an easygoing guy. He knew Jungkook didn’t hate you, but he could never pinpoint why he treats you like that. 

“Jimin?” You questioned when he continued to stare at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine… um, you’re asking about Jungkook?”

You nodded. “I don’t know during the meeting… sorry, I might be overstepping, but something just seemed off.”

Jimin continued to stare at you, a little unsure of what to say. He wanted so badly to tell you— honestly, he was just happy you noticed— but…

Even he didn’t know what was going on anymore.

•────•──────────•────•

Jimin never gave you a straight answer. He dodged it entirely actually, not at all calming your nerves about your strange meeting. 

You went home that day with Jungkook on your mind, but not like how he usually was— with you cursing his entire bloodline. No, instead you found yourself wondering what he was doing.

Did he eat today?

Was he sleeping alright? 

Anything to write off today as just a bad day, but as the days turned into weeks in your new position, your concern never lightened up. The more time you spent working closer to him, the more you began seeing all the signs you did back then in high school with Mi-Sun. 

It was like it was happening all over again. It took an attempt for you to fully realize what was happening the last time, but you saw the signs back then just like you did now. Something was wrong, very wrong actually, but every time you met one-on-one, you never found it in yourself to ask him directly how he was doing.

Do you still hate Jeon Jungkook? No, and you hate to say you ever did. Would you whine every time he gave you 15 billion tasks to do in one day? Yes, you did every time. But it was clear he must be dealing with a lot, so you just started keeping your complaints to yourself.

Now nearly a month into getting your new position, you had enough things on your plate to deal with other than whining 24/7 about your workload. 

Today you had to lead a meeting in Director Son’s absence. The drastic drop in temperature had been enough to due him in and he’s been out sick all week. It was at the worst time too, everything was ridiculously hectic because of the holiday season coming up.

Without Director Son here, you were basically the acting director. You’ve been scrambling with all the shit that was being piled into your lap, but you tried to keep a brave face.

This presentation nearly made you collapse. It was a big meeting, and Director Son only gave you a few days to prepare after he let you know he was probably going to be out for a while. But you smashed it, because that’s what you always do. You couldn’t help but smile when you earned a round of applause after you concluded the last slide, and breathed a sigh of relief as soon as everyone slowly started getting up and leaving the meeting room. 

It was finally over…

You went to go pack up your stuff when you suddenly felt someone tap your shoulder. Lo and behold it was him, Head Director Jeon.

“Y/n.” Jungkook seemed nervous as he nodded over at you.

You bowed. “Hope you enjoyed my presentation Director Jeon…” You quickly panicked, worried this conversation was going to be about that.

“Yes, you did great— you always do…” He smiled at you. You were a sucker for compliments, but in the moment, it completely went over your head.

“No, actually this is about tomorrow. Usually, I’d do this with Director Son, but since he’s not here, I was hoping you’d be able to fill in for him.” He seemed even more nervous.

“That’s my job.” You put it matter-of-factly.

“Right, yeah, you’re right.” He chuckled nervously. “Um, tomorrow, as you know, things are pretty crazy these days… I have all these documents to go over for the budget presentation we have coming up for next quarter. Would you be available to stay late with me and go through all the details?”

Oh?

“Of course.” You said not putting much thought into it. You stay late most days anyway.

For some reason, he seemed to tense up even more.

“Good… um… make sure to get a good night's rest; tomorrow might be a long day.” He pointed out.

“Hmm?” 

He already knew what you were going to ask. “This could be an all-night thing… sorry to put you in this position— Director Son and I—“ 

“It’s fine sir. I’ll be there.” You said through gritted teeth, trying your best to force a smile. You didn’t want to be here all night; you were already exhausted as it is and now there was no chance you could agree to any of Solmi’s Halloween plans.

The holiday was tomorrow, and she had wanted to whisk you and Taehyung away to Itaewon for a night full of bar hopping to all the places that were hosting parties in the area. She had pleaded for you to consider it even though you already told her how busy you were. You had honestly been thinking about it, it could have been a night out to de-stress from all that was on your plate, but there goes that opportunity. At least if you didn’t go, you could have been home catching up on sleep, relaxing, anything really but be here. And with Jeon Jungkook?

You regretted saying yes so fast.

“Ok— great… um, again, that was a great presentation. See you tomorrow.” It was an awkward goodbye, but that’s how most of your conversations went, so you didn’t dwell on it.

As the door closed behind him, you took a second to breathe, and enjoy the silence of the meeting room. In that peace, you realized a detail your brain completely skipped over.

You were working overtime with Jungkook. You were going to be alone… together.

Suddenly you felt yourself getting a little nervous. 

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[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki prepare for their school trip, and it is, of course, chaotic.

            PK Academy was buzzing with excitement for the Okinawa trip. Yumehara and Teruhashi were especially excited because they wanted to spend time with Saiki. That meant they had to join his group. Of course, the obvious answer was to first ask (Y/N) to ask the boys (since they had already roped them into their group), but they were over with Saiki, and neither wanted to embarrass themselves in front of their crush. They tried to ask the other guys, but Teruhashi’s fan club became too exuberant in trying to get her to join them. So, now the girls (plus (Y/N)) were joining boy groups by a lottery system. Teruhashi, of course, was first up. She walked up to the box and rummaged around in it for a second.

            Yare yare. I feel bad that (Y/N) won’t be in my group, but I can’t have them and Yumehara there, too.

            “I choose this one!” declared Teruhashi.

            “Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s group,” announced Hairo.

            “From here on, if you wanna talk to Teruhashi, talk to me first,” said Takahashi proudly as the other boys yelled in outrage.

            (Y/N) sighed. I wanted to be in Saiki’s group…

            Teruhashi and Yumehara felt the same way. They were very disappointed.

            “So Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s, but what about the rest?” asked Hairo. “Shall we decide the rest via raffle as well?”

            The boys just mumbled about not caring. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. A girl from another group finally walked up and picked out another group.

            “Ugh, we got Nendou? Being in Nendou’s group is like, totes the worst!” she spat while her group nodded. “Like, can we pick again? This, like, totes kills the trip for us.”

            “Then our group will switch with theirs!” volunteered Teruhashi angelically.

            “T-Teruhashi?!” stammered Takahashi’s group.

            (Y/N) brightened. They knew Saiki wouldn’t enjoy having Teruhashi and Yumehara with him, but they really wanted to be in his group. They were friends with him and the others in the group, after all.

            “That is, if Nendou and the other two are okay with it,” continued Teruhashi.

            Everyone was amazed at the perfect pretty girl wanting to be in Nendou’s group. However, it didn’t last long as they all thought about how kind and selfless she was for doing it. It made her more perfect to them. The class began to cheer for their goddess.

            Yare yare. The only good thing about this is (Y/N) being in my group. Other than that…I’m just stuck with two more bothers.

            The class seemed to be satisfied with the rest of the results. Then, Hairo got called over by the teacher. When he returned to the room, his face was slightly crestfallen (as much as Hairo could be).

            “Which of you are in Mera’s group?” asked Hairo.

            “Oh, we are,” said (Y/N), raising their hand.

            “It looks like she can no longer go on the trip with us,” said Hairo.

            “Aw, why?” asked (Y/N).

            “Apparently, they couldn’t catch as many bluefin tuna as they wanted,” explained the class rep. “It’s unfortunate, but we can’t do anything about it. So it’s been decided that we’ll do groups of eight instead of groups of seven. Two of the members of Teruhashi’s group have to join another.”

            Instantly, Teruhashi and Yumehara glanced at (Y/N), who was humming pleasantly. They were better friends with the boys, so they were the obvious choice to stay in the group. Other people were also pulling them away.

            Looks like God is on my side.

l

            Saiki sighed in annoyance as he listened to Makoto prattle on and on about the “perverted” things Saiki was “thinking” and how he would be there to stop Saiki from doing anything. It was really quite disturbing how detailed Makoto was getting. Saiki was prepared to just not go, but…he could hear Mera and (Y/N) passing by. Mera was sad about not being able to go, and (Y/N) was disappointed their friend couldn’t come.

            That did it.

            Alright, Teruhashi. You win.

l

            “What shall we do, teacher?” asked Hairo.

            (Y/N) had been bouncing up and down in excitement at the trip, but they were starting to get nervous since it might be canceled now.

            “This isn’t good…” said the teacher.

            Suddenly, the PA system announced, “Due to a typhoon, the flight to Okinawa scheduled for ten o’clock has been temporarily suspended at this time.”

            (Y/N) sighed and slumped in their seat. “What bad luck…”

            “When I was finally able to go,” mourned Mera.

            Saiki sighed as the depressed thoughts of his friends bothers flooded him.

            “Excuse me, if the flight gets canceled, will the school trip be postponed?” asked a student.

            “No, it’ll be canceled,” said Matsusaki.

            “What?!” cried everyone.

            “I want you to go…but it’s out of my hands,” said Matsusaki sadly.

            “Teacher!” cried the students.

            “Don’t give up, guys!” shouted Hairo, clearly trying to delude himself. “It’s not like the flight has been canceled! One, two, sun! Don’t give up! Come on, guys! Cheer with me!”

            (Y/N) just sighed gloomily.

            Yare yare, even their endless sunniness is dampened. I can’t keep watching this. He couldn’t have (Y/N) upset. He liked them happy. Saiki teleported away for a moment before returning, soaking wet.

            “Hey! The flights back on!” chirped (Y/N) happily. “The news says the typhoon suddenly disappeared!” They grinned and then cocked their head. “Saiki? Why are you wet?”

            “Never mind it.” He smiled a tiny bit. “Now, let’s take that school trip.”

            “Yeah!” cheered (Y/N).

            Finally, PK Academy boarded the plane and was off to Okinawa. (Y/N) took out headphones and leaned back in their seat. While Yumehara, Teruhashi, and Mera were talking, they decided to take a nice long nap. They wanted as much energy as possible when they arrived in Okinawa.

l

            “The ocean looks so beautiful!” said (Y/N), looking out the bus window.

            “It’s so green!” said Nendou. “I wonder if someone’s dumpin’ some paint out there. Right, pal, pinky?”

            (Y/N) just grinned and shook their head.

            “Hey, (Y/N)!” called Yumehara. “Look!” She opened her shirt, revealing a bikini top.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and they looked away. “Yumehara!”

            “Don’t take your clothes of here!” Teruhashi blushed.

            “It’s just a bathing suit,” explained Yumehara.

            “That makes more sense,” said (Y/N). “Stripping on the bus doesn’t seem your thing. I’m guessing you’re excited about the beach?”

            “Totally!” said Yumehara.

            “Me, too,” said Teruhashi.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I can’t wait to go. I bought a new swimsuit for the occasion.”

            “Oh, are you not wearing a guy’s swimsuit this time?” asked Yumehara.

            “No, I went for a two-piece,” said (Y/N). “I thought I’d have fun.”

            “I got a bikini, too,” remarked Teruhashi.

            “We’ll be like a fashion show!” commented (Y/N), beaming as the bus stopped.

            “Ooh, finally, we’re getting food!” Mera was drooling at the thought.

            She quickly pulled everyone into the building the teachers were escorting them into. They were all sat down in groups around tables and given food.

            “So, this is Okinawa soba, huh? It doesn’t look like soba at all,” said Nendou.

            “Well, one difference is that they don’t use buckwheat flour, so—,” said Yumehara.

            “Whatever it is, it looks good! Let’s chow down!” Nendou began eating.

            “Kuwachii sabira,” said Kaidou in the Okinawan dialect.

            Everyone stared blankly at him.

            “Yep! Maasan! This is ippee maasan,” said Kaidou as he ate.

            “Sure! Maasan!” chirped (Y/N).

            “Don’t start,” said Saiki, giving them a look.

            They laughed sheepishly while Kaidou continued attempting the Okinawan dialect.

            “He’s trying too hard.”

            “Th-Th-That’s amazing, Kaidou,” said Teruhashi, struggling to get the lie out.

            “I can’t remember them at all,” said Yumehara.

            “That’s fine!” said Kaidou. “Even if you don’t get ushinaa guchi, nankura naisa!”

            “He was excited for that phrase,” observed (Y/N).

            Finally, after an excruciatingly incomprehensible narration of the meal by Kaidou, the group finished eating and left the restaurant.

            “We still have some time left. Do you wanna stop by the souvenir shop?” asked Mera.

            “Sure!” (Y/N) nodded. With that, the girls enjoyed the time until dinner with some light shopping.

l

            “Now this is what a school trip’s all about!” cheered three boys at the hot springs. “Peeping!”

            Yare yare. Hearing their thoughts makes me feel gross.

            “Actually, I came once before to check things out,” said one boy.

            “To Okinawa?!” cried Takahashi. “That’s commitment, Murata!”

            “The hotel switches the men’s and women’s baths each day. I have a good grasp of the other side, too,” said Murata.

            “Wow…I can’t even find words…” said the third boy, impressed.

            “But it’ll all be worth it…to get a peek at her!” declared Murata, clearly thinking of Teruhashi. “The best place to peek is under that light.”

            I’ll block their line of sight.

            “What is she’s already gotten out?” asked Takahashi.

            “They might not compare to Teruhashi, but Mera and (L/N) are pretty hot as well,” said the third.

            Saiki stopped his movements. Yare yare. I guess I’ll have to handle this differently.

            As the three used periscopes to try to look over the fence, Saiki twisted the tops around. The boys were met with the horrifying picture of a naked Nendou.

            I don’t understand what the big deal about naked bodies is— Saiki accidentally looked through the fence with his x-ray vision. He could see (Y/N) in the water with their back turned. It was more of them than he had ever seen. Oh, wow. He immediately looked away. He had not expected that reaction to them. Shaking his head, he dispelled the thoughts, but they continued to bob in his head. Yare yare. I’m going down to the beach to get away from all of this.

            If Saiki had known the situation would just get worse, perhaps he wouldn’t have lay down on that beach chair that night.

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[stevie-petey]

episode five: the flea and the acrobat

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

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

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

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

words: 14.4k (whew)

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

-

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your shoulders slump. “Is it that bad?”

“It started this morning,” 

“Lucas!”

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

“Backup?” You ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not now, Mike.”

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

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

“Sometimes,” she shrugs. 

“Lovely.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, just wait.” Lucas snorts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dustin sighs. “Yes, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

“And ‘empty’.” Lucas adds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Upside down.”

“What’d she say?” Lucas asks.

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

“What?” 

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

“God, took you long enough.”

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

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

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

“Exactly! Dark. Empty.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I wanna know?”

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

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

“The Upside Down.” You finish for him. 

“The Upside Down.” Mike confirms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t bother to ask what that means. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking of which:

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

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

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

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

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

“Noted.” 

– 

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

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

Right. Will’s funeral is tomorrow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Touche, bee.” 

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

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

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

Nance?

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

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

“A girl?”

“Yeah, she’s bald.”

“Okay… is that important or…?”

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

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

No I can’t.

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

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

“Well, she kinda has… powers?”

“Powers,”

“Powers.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“You don’t.” 

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

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

“You don’t have to-”

“I know.” 

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

“Bug?” Jonathan is practically whispering. 

“Yeah?”

“Lonnie is here.”

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

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

“Leave your mom with him?” You finish. 

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

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

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

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

Like how I love you?

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

“Goodnight,”

“Sleep well.”

– 

You’re up before the sun this morning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re your favorite.”

“And Will’s.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d do anything for him. 

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Y/N.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It started the night after Will disappeared…”

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

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

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

Huh. 

You hadn’t thought of it that way. 

“Ya know, you make a good point.”

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

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

“What’s that?” You ask. 

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

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

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

“Sorry,”

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” her tone is sincere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Actually, what are you guys going to do?

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

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

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

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

“We don’t know that-”

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugs, “It doesn’t hurt to try?”

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

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

– 

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

This worries you. 

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

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

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

Dustin looks enthralled. “Like a gate?”

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

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, nodding his head.

A gate?

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

You sigh, not liking the odds at all.

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

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

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

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

“Well, if it did I think we’d know.”

You snort. “Wanna bet?”

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

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

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

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

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

Silence falls upon the table. 

Mr. Clark is such a peachy person.

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

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

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

“No.”

“You don’t even know what we’re-”

“No.”

“Can you at least let me-”

“Sure,”

“Really?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stare at you as if you’re insane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but monster hunting sounds cooler.”

“Bless you, bee.” 

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

And you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you could talk nicely to it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Bug, what are you-”

“Let’s go for a walk.” 

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

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

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

“Do you really believe Will is alive?”

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

“Feel him?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but…”

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

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

“Oh, you know what I mean, bee.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, did I?”

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

“The threads are the reason it all happens?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s too much. It’s all too much. 

And then suddenly Jonathan leans in. 

Maybe you’re imagining it. 

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

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

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

“Hey! Guys!”

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

You want to scream. 

Of course it’s Nancy fucking Wheeler. 

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

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

Best friend. 

The words hurt more than they should, really. 

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

“Did I miss something or…?”

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

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

Will, Barb, the monster. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, did you try shooting?” 

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

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

“You’re awful at this, bee.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees.

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

She scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

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

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

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

Lovely. 

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

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

“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry Y/N.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nancy Wheeler, the perfect enigma.

Suddenly it clicks. 

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

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

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

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

Clearly there’s no room for you here. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there it is again. 

Nance.

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

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

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

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

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

– 

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

Then there’s Steve, oddly enough. 

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

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

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

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

Like hell those kids really stayed out of the woods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You won’t yell at me?”

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

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

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

“Like hell we were gonna listen to you.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She screamed?”

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

“She what-”

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

“He was knocked unconscious?”

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

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

Maybe you don’t want superpowers. 

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

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

“And El?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great. He brought the idiots.

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

“I almost had it,” you glare at him. 

“Sure ya did.”

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

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

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

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

He frowns. “Why would Byers be here?”

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A wave of nausea hits you.

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

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

“It’s not like that-” 

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

More nausea hits you. “No,”

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

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

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

All you feel is nausea. 

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

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

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

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

No. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will has to come first. 

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

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[kanmom51]

JM Muse Blooming

Concept photos and clip

JM's first concept photos dropped, and what can you say? The man is 🔥🔥

Walking in the Smeraldo flowers garden.

Wearing this belt:

Same belt?

The minute I saw this photo it felt a little familiar.

And then it hit me.

JK's 2D shoot.

Now, I'm no photography expert, but it looks like the same kind of slow exposure technique is used for this photo.

And then we have this:

How far will you go for love

To the moon?

To tell the whole world that you want that one person you love, even if your love may be considered as wrong or ugly to some?

To enlist together, being the first idols EVER to do so?

I guess pretty far.

Yeah yeah, I know not everything is about Jikook. This is JM's album, JM's photo concept, JM's creation. And yes, not everything is about them as a couple. There is definitley plenty that isn't. But with saying that, we have seen, time and time again, referencing, coding and mirroring of one another. Not everything is about them as a couple, but yet, I do believe that some of it is.

And then we have this next photo.

Now really?

If you are sitting there and denying the second you saw the tie you didn't envision this:

then you are lying. Either out right or to yourself.

The tie, the crop top. Even the pose with the shoulder tilt and the lifting of the chin gaze looking down.

Reminds me of someone else that had some mirroring going on and was called a copycat and so much more and worse.

I can assure you that was one among many photos taken in that shoot, and yet, that was the photo chosen by JM.

Third photo.

Besides the fact that JM is beautiful, no need to even state the obvious, we get a few more details from this photo.

First we get the 13 on his cheek.

In the Face shoots he had the studs/thorns and scar under his eye, and now he's proudly wearing the number 13, a number that means so much to him that he has it permanently tattooed on his arm.

His nail art.

In the teaser clip we had the crescent (probably right hand) and now we get two parallel lines. An equal sign perhaps?

We also have a little bit more sharing going on.

I guess Jikook do love to share their outfits and accessories when it comes to these solo shoots specifically.

Another coincidence? I think we are way past the point of believing that it is.

We have shared belts.

Same pants.

Different parts of the same outfit.

Same singlet.

Same necklace.

We also got this message:

ARMY! Who knew a baby chick could be so dangerous? One look at these concept photos and you might have a heart attack 🐥 10 years of this boy and he’s still finding new ways to be beautiful? 🤦‍♀️ 🐣: Is that how you see me?! 💜: Exactly that, yes. Hope you’re all pumped up for another new chapter in our lovely shared story!!

I find a few things curious with this one.

First of all, using the terms "boy" and "beautiful".

JM being an almost 30 yo man choosing the work boy is a little strange here, and knowing that every single thing he does is done with thought, just like the use of the non binary singer emoji for the 30 minute reminder or the tteokbokkibyjk.

And what about the use of the term beautiful, a term usually used as an expression of feminine good looks rather than masculine (not by me, btw, but by many).

Another curious thing I found was the dialogue, and more so, the question asked by JM: "Is that how you see me?!"

Question mark exclamation mark.

Is he asking us if we see him as a boy? Is it about age or gender? If we see him as beautiful? Is this about me overthinking? 🤣🤣

And then we have the clip:

So, JM in the dark, looking away from us.

Then the place lightens up and the camera goes into a close up of JM's face, and he's looking into the camera, or at us.

He's literally looking into my soul.

What to expect?

With JM I think we have gotten used to expecting the unexpected, in the very best way possible.

D-19

[loveandmurders]

You belong to Ambrose III (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hey everyone!! I'm very happy you still are enjoying this little series. In the end, it should be four parts!

If you have missed the first chapter, it's here, and the second one is here.

Hope you'll enjoy and keep commenting because it's really helping me writing again <3

Warnings : no proof reading, mentions of killing, of sexual activities (nothing explicit), of toxic love, morally grey reader, angst.

You refused to open the door for the rest of the day. 

You knew where the key was hidden so it had been easy for you to lock it up. And even if Bo could have shot the door open, the brothers agreed it was a terrible idea because you were already pretty mad at them. 

The situation was killing them. But it was better than your absence, and if they had to choose between this or you being gone forever, they would rather keep you here, no matter how upset you would be. 

You were home.

On the other hand, even if they didn’t say it, they all believe they knew you well enough to seduce you back in their embrace. After all, it wasn’t the first argument you had with them, and you always came back to them. You came back because they always showed you they were eager to make things better for you. You were the only person Bo ever apologised to, for instance, because they would do anything for you. 

They wanted to believe that things were going to be back to what it was supposed to be. The good thing was that you didn’t seem afraid of them anymore. They were pretty certain they could fix the situation from there. They just needed to not do anything that would make you feel threatened. 

They also hoped you remembered how they loved you, how they could only love you. You should know how insane and obsessive their love was. You should be able to understand why they needed to kill your friends. And it wasn’t truly to punish you, it was mostly because they couldn’t stand you around other people. You were supposed to love them, and only them. You were theirs, forever.

Bo thought he might need to also kill your mother because he noticed she kept calling on your phone. She was worried for you, because it had been a while she hadn’t heard from you. She had a bad feeling about all of this, so she kept calling. In the end, he answered it. She didn’t recognise his voice as he explained to her, doing his best to conceal his southern accent, that you were currently under the shower but that you would call her back soon. It appeased her, even though she seemed a little bit suspicious. She asked several times if you were okay. 

Meanwhile, Vincent and Lester got rid of the bodies. It was better to pretend you never went with your friends anyways. Vincent was a little bit sad to let go of such perfect people, but he was ready to sacrifice his art to you. Lester was happy those friends of yours were dead but he thought they might have been too quick at killing them. Maybe they should have convinced you it was better that way, before doing it. He was aware they had been too impulsive; the brothers had never been too good at staying calm when it was about you.

As Lester went back to his truck, he sent a little look at your room window. He prayed to the Devil for you to open the door and agree to talk to them.

You were getting crazy inside your room. You couldn’t rest and everything around you reminded you of your childhood with the Sinclairs. You rolled your eyes when you noticed the boys kept your clothes, even the very old ones. It seemed like they couldn’t get rid of anything that used to belong to you, even broken toys. 

Your heart tightened in your ribcage when you took a closer look at the drawings littering the walls. More memories flooded through your mind. You used to be all happy together. The first drawings you found were very childish, but slowly they got better. There were a lot of portraits of the whole family, including you. You remembered the day you were doing the portrait of Trudy was the day you first kissed Vincent. The weather was so hot and no one was around, so you told Vincent to remove his mask. He agreed, because it was you. You made him feel so normal, so handsome even. You didn’t really know what happened, but you ended up on his lap, kissing him as if your life was depending on it. His hands had held you with such strength, almost leaving bruises on you. He knew he was your first kiss, and it made him feel good about himself. He grew addicted to your touch and kisses then, and you used to love being his little goddess.

You also found gifts the boys got you. You found quite a few rocks and you remembered Lester offered them to you during your first date with him. The twins were barely leaving the two of you alone, so you both decided to sneak away. You went together in the woods, knowing no one would find you there. You let him guide you, trusting him. He was a little bit shy, so you had been the one who took his hand in yours. You could see him again, watching you with heart eyes and letting escape how beautiful, smart and amazing you were. He couldn’t stop babbling and when he finally calmed down, he kissed the back of your hand, his eyes lit with adoration. He promised you to only belong to you that day, and he never broke his word.

You also found a photo album of your teenagehood and early adulthood. You shivered when you noticed how the boys were always looking at you with so much love, tenderness and desire, in literally every picture of the four of you. Bo often had his arm wrapped around your waist. Vincent was holding your hand. Lester was hugging you from behind. There were photos of you all partying too. And at the end of the album, photos of you kissing the boys. Bo was passionate. Vincent was possessive. Lester was hungry.

One photo caught your attention. It was a summer night, you were wearing a cute little dress and Bo took a picture of you. You remembered that that night, the boys were relentless around you. You were the prettiest thing in their lives and they wanted you. You remembered you laughed so much that night, teasing them. The truth was you were burning for them too. At the end of the night, Bo brought you to a hotel room away from Ambrose and he made love to you for the first time. You both desired each other so badly. He had been so gentle to you, eager to make you feel good before his own pleasure. Despite the rumours, Bo was as virgin as you then. He had waited for you because he only wanted you. He learnt how to play with you, patient and attentive, and then he taught his brothers. You had a very fond memory of that night.

You had very fond memories of the boys.

You didn’t want to admit it but you missed those happy times. It upsetted you a lot, even more than you already were. For the moment, things seemed to be all shattered to pieces, litke the plate you threw at the wall earlier that day. How could things go back to what it used to be, now they killed your friends, now you spent years away from them?

And yet, a little voice inside your head was begging you. She asked you to forgive them. Did you really care about your friends? Could you care when you were finally home? When you could finally have their hands on your body, after all those sleepless nights, dreaming about the feeling of their skin against yours? You never forgot how they made love to you. And whenever you were with someone else, you wished it would be them instead. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have left Ambrose, but it was too late. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this road trip, but it was too late as well. You were stuck, and you didn’t know what to do anymore. You thought you should want to escape, but your heart was breaking even more at the idea of leaving once again. You tried to tell yourself that you were simply afraid of what the Sinclairs would do to you if you tried to get away. But you knew you were lying to yourself. You weren’t afraid.

It was the middle of the night when you heard something scratching at your door. You were trying to sleep, but you needed a shower, and some food, and you started to feel lonely, locked up in there, so you couldn't rest. The noise was also preventing you now. You got irritated so you finally opened the door to meet a cute dog at the entrance. You didn’t know Jonesy but you could tell she was the family dog and she was well taken care of. You sat on the floor and started to pet her. You had to admit that she brought you some comfort, because she was very soft and affectionate. You quietly talked to her as she greeted your caresses with kisses of her own. 

The twins were chatting in the kitchen, planning about what to do about you, when they heard you opening your door. However, they got confused when you didn’t seem to come downstairs or to walk to the bathroom, so they looked for you.

They quite enjoyed seeing you cooing at Jonesy, and it felt to them that fate was speaking once again because their dog never liked strangers. And yet, she seemed to be all over you already. You felt you were watched so you looked up and met their gazes. Your attention quickly went back on Jonesy. You weren’t sure what to do, and it was annoying you.

“Ya hungry?” Bo asked in the softest way he could manage, hoping to coax you, but you simply shrugged. “Ah com’on, baby girl” he hummed. 

The twins carefully moved closer to you and sat on the floor as well. Jonesy loved to have her humans at her level for once so she happily barked and greeted the boys who petted her. 

You stayed silent for a little while. You all were very tense, which was strange because you used to be so at ease around each other. The twins couldn’t wait for you to relax. And you couldn’t wait to forgive them or to get out of here.

“I’m sorry for your friends. We all really are.” Vincent finally signed to you. The only source of light was coming from your room but you were seeing enough of his hands to read them.

“No you’re not, or you wouldn’t have done this” you snapped

“They were in the way. They would have never agreed to leave you here and they would have called the police on us. We couldn’t take the risk when we finally had the opportunity to bring you where you belong. We didn’t have any other choice” Vincent continued

“Whatever you say” you replied

“Lester is really sad you seemed so upset at him earlier and we really want to fix the situation with you.” Vincent tried again

“I’m not sure we can fix anything” you whispered. You felt sad, but not only because of your friends.

“Ya’re one of us, ya always had been.” Bo said as he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. You tried to not react to the kiss. And then he didn’t allow you to remove your hand from his grasp, actually trying to bring you closer to him. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, love, I’m sorry. Ya know I say stupid things when I’m angry” he finally apologised. “We’re blessed ya’d fallen in love with the three of us or we’d’ve killed each other to be your favourite lover” he hummed and you knew he was only half joking about it. 

“And yet my mother said you wanted to marry me” you replied as you leaned against the frame of the door. Jonesy put her head on your lap.

“Still want it…” Bo hummed. Vincent sent him a little look. “And speakin’ of your mother, she keeps callin’. Told her ya’d call her back soon” Bo told you before handing your phone back to you.

“Could call the cops on you” you replied as you took your phone. Bo shrugged.

“Ya won’t. Ya still love us too.” Bo replied with a cheeky grin and you arched an eyebrow at him.

“You seem very confident about it, Bo” you commented

“Ya’re angry at us for the moment, and it’s normal, ‘cause we kill your “friends”. But ya’ll forget about them soon enough” he replied

“How do you know that?” you groaned

“Ya’re actin’ like ya used to. Ya ain’t afraid of us, ya call us out, ya got mad at us when we ain’t doin’ what ya wanna. Ya called this room, yours. Ya’re sittin’ on the floor like if ya’re ownin’ the place. Which ya do, by the way. Ya always did” Bo enumerated the reasons that made him think you were still in love with them “And it’s been years ya should’ve called the cops on us. Ya knew what we were doin’ here and ya knew our plans. And yet, ya never called them.” he continued and you looked away. You couldn’t argue with that.

“I wanted another life, that’s why I left Ambrose. Of course I kept thinking about you guys a lot, but I didn’t want this mess.” you told them

“And yet you came camping close by Ambrose”. Vincent noted “Like if you were trying your luck”

“Yes. I was tempting the devil I guess, and he didn’t miss me” you sighed, wondering what you were going to do now. 

“Tell us what we can do to make things better” Vincent asked

“I don’t…”

You jumped when your phone rang. You answered when you saw it was your mother, with the only desire to reassure her so you could peacefully think of the mess you were in without having to worry about her calling the cops. You half realised that you indeed really didn’t want anything bad to happen to the three men you used to live with.

“Hey, mom” you said

“Hey, darling, where are you? I couldn’t join you easily today.”

“I’m sorry about that, my phone died and we had to find a hotel for the night” you lied with so much ease. You learnt it from the twins.

“When did you say you would come back home?”

“I’m not sure, mom. We’re… getting behind the plan because we faced some car issues. Nothing serious, don’t worry.”

“Is everything okay? You sound strange”

“Of course everything is alright, I’m just tired. I call you tomorrow, mom, have a good night, love you.” you said before hanging up. 

You closed your eyes and took your head in your hands. You could have told her about the kidnapping and the murders, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to finish breaking everything with the Sinclairs. Bo might be right; you might be still badly in love with them, even though it was a mistake that already cost you your friends. 

You felt the twins gently stroking your hands and then arms. They had missed touching you. They moved closer to you again, surrounding you like they used to.

“Let us show ya life can be worth it here. We ain’t deservin’ ya, but ya know we’re good at takin’ care of you” Bo whispered to you and you really wanted to believe it.

--

PART IV

--

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[yellowelectroslime]

Can you do headcanons or a fic for Alastor being involved with a single mother? The idea is based on the fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/47489320/chapters/127929073?view_adult=true <- but if you want to do it from before he dies that’s cool

[notes: i love human alastor so im gonna do that :D also im so invested in that series now but its not completed yet FRICK thank u tho]

OK SO LIKE-

Alastor is a GENTLEMAN he will treat all women RIGHT

I think its BASICALLY cannon (not really) that alastor grew up as a mama’s boy with an abusive/bad/absent father right?

He hates the fact that there are some husbands who would LEAVE their wives to take care of a child

THE NERVE OF SOME PEOPLE disrespectful

Alastor is known for his amazing chivalry, so obviously he would be the one to step up and help you

U worked at the same radio station as an assistant on the sidelines so u and alastor knew each other and were pretty close

He knew that u were dating someone and he knew when u were pregnant

he would be lying if he said he wasnt a little jealous and sad

when he heard that you’re “boyfriend/husband” broke up with you and left you by yourself while u were 7 months pregnant

let me tell you this.

he was FURIOUS

he probably killed the guy and ate him that very night lol

the next day was a day off for both of you so he showed up at your doorstep with a bag of groceries and another bag of your favourite comfort food

your heart MELTED but you wouldn’t let yourself love after what happened with HIM

it took some time for u to open yourself to love again and BOY was it a good idea

Alastor 100% would cook for u 🫶 (cough cough ahaha.)

will take care of u and the child :D and wont let anything bad happen to either of u

overall: 999999/10 dad (he’s loosing the 1 point cuz……. he’s alastor.)

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers One x Reader: Awakening Chapter Five

Chapter Five: I’m Done Saving You

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Six, Optimus Prime Ending, Megatrons Ending, Elita Ones Ending, B-127 Ending, Bonus+ Deadlocks Ending

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

TW/Tags: non? Based on the title you already know what’s coming. Good luck nerds.

(Chapter 5 is finally here and I’m pretty excited for this one. Sadly there is much to add for Elita and reader so most likely in the next chapter. Sorry guys the movie isn’t making it any easier for me or just can’t think of any that doesn’t ruin the movie too much. I was dreading to type in the scene where D. Shoots Orion and it didn’t feel right to add in the expressions of Y/N, Elita and B because that moment is for D-16 and Orion in my opinion. Oh boy the next chapter is gonna hurt but I want to make y’all happy so here we go.)

(The next chapter will be the last one and then 5 bonus endings after)

*At Iacon City-

Y/N was about to sneak into the city the same way the gaurds were able to. Paying o mind if others see them as they fly in their alt mode. Landing in an alley between buildings. The view clear of sentinels tower. They would then look around and say. The bots they once saw to be taller then them was now around the Sam seize as them having a cog now. They would let out a sigh and then walk out making their eye to the tower. Knowing if they were in their alt mode. They would be questioned. But as they walked passing the road and walking on the side walk as they walked around. Seeing that there’s an alleyway that seems to lead to the tower sooner. They. Go down that path. As they walk someone then grabs their hand. Causing them to quickly turn around pin the person against the wall.

”Woah easy there friend I just wanted to tell- Y/N” It was Deadlock

”Lo- uh sorry you got me confused with someone else.”

They would then try to leave but deadlock would grab their wrist and pull them back and turns them around putting his had on their shoulder.

“Y/N it is you! But. But you have a cog!” Y/N was just 5 inches shorter then him now.

”Uh yeah I should really get going.” Deadlock would rests his hand on their hip as he looked at them. They would place their hands on his shoulders to try to create some distance

”Y/N where have you been and how do you have a cog. Come on lets catch up.”

”Deadlock I would love to but I must go. My friend is possibly in danger and I should go make sure they’re safe.” Deadlock looks almost disappointed. Then over the comm its heard his boss is calling for him. He then sighs

”Fine but seeing that you have a cog now. Come by the club and we can catch up.”

”Will do Deadlock now I must go. Good to see you friend.” They pat his shoulders as he finally out his hands off them. Watching as they leave before turning around to head to work

Y/N continues to walk to the tower then once seeing the security they come up with an idea remembering what sentinel said the day of the race. They would then go up to the two guards

”Heeeey guys name’s Y/N sentinel said he was expecting me?” The two gaurds look at eachother then at them. Nodding then letting them in after giving them directions to the personal quarter sentinel told them to tell you to go to

Y/N would then walk in able to go through a door to the others sneaking around trying to find the room while also being quiet. Soon they would peak through a door and see D-16, B-127, and the other guards on their knees and their hands tied behind their back as sentinel walks past them in a line speaking an d having his average smirk on his face

“I don’t understand. Why are we still alive?”

“Look at this rowdy bunch. The High Guard. You know you guys have been tough to find. Every trip to the surface I have been searching for you.”

“Tracking the bots in the cave led me right to them.”

“You captured Starscream.”

“It was too easy.”

“I’m going to rip you apart piece by piece and that your death is painful and you’ll regret the day you”

“You sound ridiculous. It’s weird. Oh D-16 what a tragic story you’ll be. Atop the leaderboard in your sector. Secretly a traitor.”

“I’m not the traitor. You’re the traitor.’

“Nuh-uh. You. All of you are traitors. You’ve been working with the Quintessons to sabotage atoge my expeditions You’re the reason I haven’t found the matrix of leadership yet.”

“None of that is true!”

“Oh trust me all of that will be very true when I am executing you in front of all of Iacon because down here the truth is what I make it.”

Sentinel would get into Bs face before D would take a step.

“Well well. What’s this about?”

“I’m not kneeling in front of you.”

“Feeling confident are we?”

“You dont scare me. You wanna know why?”

“Please.”

“Because I don't anything else left to lose. You took it all.”

“I sure did.”

Sentinel would then punch D.

“Ah megatronus prime. Of course you are a fan. Megatronus was the coolest prime! The biggest. The Baddest. The Toughest! That's why after I killed him. I took his cog for myself.”

“He was greater than you’ll ever be!”

“I don’t know I’m pretty great but I can understand why you would wanna wear his face over mine. Here, lets make sure it doesn’t come off.”

Sentinel would put the sticker back then starts engraving the deception insignia into his chest. The others only able to watch. Y/N knows that they have seen enough and without a second thought they open the door and as the others were about to notice in a moment Y/N was running pulled out their blade. Putting the blade against his neck catching him by surprise. The gaurds and airachnid pointing her guns at them

“Shoot me and he dies!”

“Ahh Y/N I see you have a cog as well-“

“Shut up! Sentinel prime is it true you did it all for power…Is it?!” Sentinel then scoffs

”Well of course. Any Prim-“

”You are no prime! And I swear in the memory and honor of my friends…to B and D I’ll-“ Then Y/N is shot on their side by one of the guard causing them to fall onto their knees as sentinel stands before them.

”Well isn’t this just a shame. You know I was pretty excited to work with you. Of course it not including the two miners you so cared for. Maybe there is use for you seeing that you’re all about honor. And you’re not labeled dead yet by the public.” Y/N still on the ground. The bullet almost through their waist almost to the center

”We’ll be sure the best doctor of Iacon will take care of that wound” He would then grab their chin making their face look up fullly facing him after he took a knee. he then snaps his fingers. Two guards walking and grabbing them by the arms picking them up.

”Make sure they’re well taken care of” Y/N was then dragged and taken towards the door they cam from.

*Orion-

“Ooookaaay. I-I can do this.”

*At the mines-

“You can’t be serious. We just worked 22 shifts without a break. These miners need rest and time to repair.”

“Sentinel Prime wants more energon. So get back into the mines! Before I make you go back in-“

“Is that-“

“Orion?”

“Jazz.”

“Is that really you?”

“Yeah I know I uh- look a little different.”

“Little? There’s nothing little about you.”

“How is this possible?”

“Sentinel told us you died from your race injuries.”

“Sentinel is a lair. Look, I know sounds coming from me. I was never the most focused. Miner but as you can see everything’s different now.”

“I went to the surface. And I learned the truth. My friends. We were all born with transformation cogs. And then sentinel. He stole them from us! He took away our ability to make our own decisions. He stole our freedom. But now I’m offering you your first real choice. You can work a twenty-third shift and mine yourself to death. Or fight back against sentinel with me. Right now.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

“We can’t fight. We don’t have cogs.”

“What defines a transformer is not the cog in its chest but the spark that resides in their core. A spark that gives you the will to make your world better and that spark sentinel can never take from us.”

“There’s not enough of us. We need an army.”

“And we have one. Elita is bringing troops. We are not alone in this. If we want to be in control of our own destiny we will have to fight for it. Now is the time for us to stand up. For ourselves! Stand up for this injustice. I promise you this fight will be worth it. Follow me! Nothing can stop us when we stand together. Together as one.”

“Elita it’s time.”

“You got it. Buckle up blinky. We’re going in.”

Back to the others D heard everything sentinel and Y/N said. Hearing the guards take Y/N away as they groan in pain. He the tried to stand up again.

“Not a good idea.”

“D stay down.”

D would stand up once more

“Well that’s a shame. You really were a great miner.”

”D! Run!….”

Sentinel points his blaster at D as D watches. Waiting.

“We’ve got a breach! Protect Sentinel!” A guard would hit D to fall back again as another would join them to protecting sentinel. Y/N was still carried away. Now further from where the direction the train was heading as the guards noticed

“Ok they spotted us. It’s about to get bumpy.”

“High Guard. Eject.”

“There’s too many! We have to abort.”

“We’re not going to make it.”

From there many miners with jet packs fly up and start fighting sentinels guards. Helping the others

“Lets break some protocol.”

“That’s what I’m talking about Pax!”

Pax was then attacked against the front of the train by Airachnid

“Ooooh that’s intense.”

“You can’t win miner! I see everything!”

“That’s right you do! Except the tower we’re about to crash into.”

Orion would then kick Airachnid off him. Hitting the window with his elbow breaking it to get in and the train soon hits the tower. Hitting Sentinel

(HE DID THE POSE FHGFGJFGVUDKKYKUCFKUVU)

“Hey!”

“What has he done to you?!”

“This is nothing! Compared to what I’m going to do to sentinel.”

”Y/N!!” The guards have left leaving them on the floor. They would then stand up and put a sort fo tissue over their bullet hole. Something ratchet gave them before. They would make their way to the two limping a bit. Orion going up to them

”I’m fine. We need to stop sentinel.” They say as they look at Orion and D. D unable to take his eyes off the energon coming of them as Orion does the same

“Soundwave, free the prisoners.”

“I know how to stop him. Airachnid is the answer-“

“I’m doing this my way!”

“D!”

“Yes! Woah! I got a battle mask. Elita! Battle mask! It appeared when this guy tried to- Knife hands? I have knife hands! Haha! Baddassatron!”

“Where’s sentinel?!”

There was then an explosion causing D, Y/N and Orion to fall forward. They would then hide behind some rocks as they then hear sentinel

“You pathetic little twits. Did you really think you can knock down everything that I have built?!”

“It’s over sentinel! You can’t escape the truth!”

“What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off the Quintessons and live like a king. None of that matters! Because the truth is what I make it!”

“In coming!”

D and sentinel will then have their own fight as the three try to think of a plan

“He’s too strong!”

“I have a plan. We need Airachnid.”

“Airachnid?!”

”Are you crazy?!

“We need her memory.”

“Where is she?!”

Elita was tackled by Airachnid

“Found her!”

“Elita. Do not break her. Bring her to the broadcast station. We'll meet you there.”

“Easier said than done!”

“I said don't break her!”

“Relax I’m being. Very. Gentle!”

“Orion! Orion look! Knife hands!”

“I can see that!”

”Yeah Bee!!” They then show their sword blades they picked up earlier showing they glow as well. B then cheers excited

“I’m gonna cut these guys watch! Come here!”

“You can jab them later!”

“GO! I’ll stay here and help D!”

”All right b careful!”

“Yeah!”

The three make thier way to the other tower. D and sentinel continueing to fight eachother. Y/N staying behind and joining the fight with D

“Um. E-excuse me, you can’t be in here.”

B then starts destroying the place

“B. These are not the ad guys.”

“Why did you cut the door?”

“What? No I didn’t cu- I didn’t- uh that wasn’t- I didn’t- it was ready like that. Right?!”

“Yes that’s right It- it was already like- yeah-was already like that.”

Orion then got to work and Elita made sure Airachnid was on the table her hologram memory showing.

“Attention. Iacon city. Stand by for a live transmission from Sentinel Prime.”

During thre fight D and sentinel keep fighting all ove the room causing more damag. Y/N waits for the right moment and once sentinel was believing he has D. Y/N jumps and transformers their alt mode on its side and spins fast pushing him off D (Think like that scene Megatron does in TF Earthspark to skyward during that big battle scene.) Scratching his paint job as they land right next to D pulling out their blades protective over D.

”D are you alright?!” D stands up and shakes his head a bit trying to stay awake

”This is my fight. Go to-“

”Will you quiet that! You can finish him off after I get a good hi-“

Y/N was then tackled by sentinel being pinned to the ground as they were far enough from D. Y/N would fight him getting a couple good hits and sentinel getting a few more hits on them. After kicking him of them D then side body slams sentinel. Y/N struggling to stand up as D then starts fighting sentinel again. Y/N is badly injured and struggles to stand. When they look up at the two. D is back on the ground and sentinel on top pointing his blaster as him again

“What’s wrong D-16? Rise up!”

“That’s why after I killed him. That’s why after I killed him. I took his cog for myself. Cog for myself. What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off Quintessons and live like a king! What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off Quintessons and live like a king! I’m working my miners as hard as I can. I swear I’ll get you the rest! I’m working my miners as hard as I can. I swear I’ll get you the rest!”

“Lier!”

“We trusted you!”

“Traiter!”

“Pax, we did it!”

After sentinel was distracted Y/N was able to make their way to D. Helping them up while holding their waist where they bleed a bit at. D would stand back up with their help.

”Stay back you helped enough!” He yells at them. Knowing they helped make sentinel get weaker after hitting him with their blades.

“D NO!”

D then charges at him. Causing them both to fall off the tower.

“D!”

The two would fly across the city hitting towers until they eventually land. Y/N would transform as they gain more strength while swirling a bit they’re able to make it but pretty far from the two transforming and is still weak staying on the knees as they watch the two fight. Slowly standing up.

“D-16. We can lead Cybertron together! Don’t have to do this.”

D would walk up to sentinel pointing his canon until Orion runs and jumps D. Stopping him.

“What are you doing?!”

“It’s over D. Everyone in Iacon knows the truth”

“So do I! He took everything from us! I have to do this!”

“No you don’t! Rebuilding Iacon cannot begin with an execution.”

“He deserves to die! Can’t you see that?!”

“We’re better than this. Don’t be like sentinel.”

“Pax. You need to get out of my way before I move you myself.”

“D listen-“

D would punch Orion and kick him further for Orion to stay on the ground. Then walking back to sentinel as sentinel was still on the floor. But Orion soon gets in the way. Orion wa shot shocking D and the others. As Orion was about to fall off the cliff D was able to catch him in time by the wrist

“No. No no no no no. Why..Why did you do that! Why!?”

D would be breathing heavy as so many emotions went through his head.

“D….no”

“I’m done saving you!”

[luvyeni]

MY SHY NEIGHBOR ( chapter. 14 )

— CHAPTER FOURTEEN: my favorite cashier 🥰🤍…

— 𖦹 warnings? none

previous chapter - next chapter - my shy neighbor masterlist

You opened the door to the café, immediately coming into jeongins view. “Hey.” He waved; you waved back. “Well, isn’t it my favorite cashier.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, smiling to himself. “D-do you want the same.”

“You know it.” You said, “And what drink would you recommend.” He thought about it, before pointing. “I order that every day.” You nodded, “then i’ll have that too.” You smiled. “Are you eating here today too?” he asked. “Yeah I have a while until my next class.”

You found your favorite seat, pulling out your phone to wait for your food. You checked your messages, frowning — it had been a week since your mystery man texted you, he was supposed to be only a client, but you actually looked forward to his text.

Why was he ignoring you? Had you crossed the line by saying you wanted to see him? No way, guys would beg to see you — they’d pay money to spend the night with you, even if you knew you’d never do it. Maybe that’s what made him different. Maybe he only wanted to keep it strictly over the phone. By why? “(yn)?”

“I’m about to go on my lunch break.” Jeongin told his co-worker. “Good, you can take this to your girlfriend.” He handed him a tray. “My girlfriend?” he said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“So that girl isn’t your girlfriend?” He pointed to where you sat. “n-no, she’s not.” He stuttered; you were the only girl he could mutter a single word to unless it was a coworker. “But i’ve seen you talking to her, which is rare for you, you know she also asks for you when you aren’t here?”

You ask about him? Why? “We’re just friends.” He said. “Well, she’s cute, you should set me up.” He took the tray from the boy. “Stop saying nonsense, i’ll be back soon.” He walked over to you; you hadn’t acknowledged him yet.

“yn?” you finally look up at him, he sat your tray down. “Thank you.” You said, “Are you on your break now?” He nodded. “Good now you can sit with me.” You pointed to the seat in front of you. “m-me?” you chuckled. “Well there’s no one else i’d be talking to silly.”

He hesitantly sat down, you past him the drink. “Here, drink this.” You smiled, “I get these for free, you didn’t have to.” You flagged him off. “I know, that’s why I also got you this.” You handed him half of the dessert. “Eat up.”

You watched him pick up the fork, taking a bite of the dessert. “Good, now stop being so scared, we’ve been talking for a few weeks you shouldn’t be this scared of me anymore.” You said, his ears turned. “I-i’m sorry.” He said, you reached out grabbing his hand. “Don’t stress it too much.”

He hated that he was like it this, being so shy has never worked out in his favor, we’ll expect those few times, drunk girls don’t really care if you’re shy or not, they just want to jump on the closest cute guy they see — that’s a story for a different time.

“I talk to much anyway, so I can do the talking for me and you.” You smiled, he mirrored yours. “Does that sound good?” He chuckled, looking down realizing you haven’t taken your hands off his — his heart thumping for a second, he followed your hand. “You have a tattoo?”

Where has he seen that tattoo? Before he could get another look, you took your hand away. “it’s embarrassing, me and lily got matching tattoos and they completely fucked it up.” You laughed, covering it up, that’s where he probably seen it, but he could’ve sworn he’d seen it somewhere else. “Ah, you two must be close?” You nodded. “We’re both from australia, she was the first person I actually met besides chan.” You spoke.

Sadly, it was time for him to get up, but he didn’t want to, he enjoyed talking to you. “You have to go back to work now?” He frowned, nodding. “Sadly.” He stood up, you grabbed his hand. “Hold on.” You reached into your bag, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. “I know we live next door to each other, but if you ever want to hang out when you’re not at work, you can call me.”

He watched you writing your number down. “Here.” You put the paper in his hand. “Make sure to actually use it, I really want to hang out with you.” You said, he nodded, praying you didn’t notice his red ear, or at least ignored it. “o-okay, i will.”

“Good.” You let his arm go with a smile, and he turned to walk away, smiling to himself. “Oh, it’s you.” He ran into your friend. “Mat!” He heard you yell. “It’s nice to see you, you should come out with us again, you cook really good meat.” Jeongin nodded, walking back to his register.

He watched you conversation with your friend, looking over at him, smiling waving. He waved back, smiling. “Jeongin pay attention, you have a customer.”

He shook his head; you were all he was focusing on, he forgot he was at work. “i’m so sorry, welcome to Love café how can I help you.”

And this time he actually said it with a smile.

— ( taglist. CLOSED ) @soulsbbg @k-poplv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @bbokarimenu @enczen @queen-in-the-shadows @thesweetesttattoo @ririlinoriri @aloverga @ashiitex @ddazed-lhs @heartsforhyunjin @chlodavids @simp4myself @surefornext @lostwonderwall @xxr-s4sha @charmer-c @vixensss @frobin4ever @bmnyy @semi-semiisbae @m111nho @i2innie @aalexyuuuhm @iraa567 @cheshireshiya @ihrtlix @abbiestearsricochet @niaalove @skzswife @babrieeee @thisisnotjacinta @luvskai @ikeusol @costalmaine @whos-kkira @minhosprettywife @hey-hey-heybitch @jeongins-version @denisaandreea20 @lovesunshinefelix @222brainrot @thatgirlkay @ss3oung @number1jeonginstan @whitney190 @jongseongsluvr @chesemonky @worcesheshestershiresauce @puppy-minnie @prettygirlsstanskz @hanniemylovelyquokka

©LUVYENI