#this show makes me want to stand in the cold rain and reconsider my life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

6sakusa · 4 years ago

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‘worth more’ part 3, oikawa tōru.

a/n: im dedicating this part to @humanitysvertigo for motivating me to write & inspiring this piece with your song suggestion ‘like you do’

warnings: implications of toxic relationship, mild swearing, anGST, me not proof reading.

“you’re an idiot.” iwaizumi grabbed the setter by the collar in a brash attempt to knock some sense into him. more often than not he’d been constantly named as too aggressive for his own good but the ace knew exactly what oikawa needed in order to be brought to attention and there was no way in hell that he was about to let him get away with this.

“i’m not in the mood for this right now.” oikawa scoffed shoving off his bestfriend as he picked up another ball from the pantry preparing himself for another serve.

“i don’t care what you’re in the mood for, this isn’t good for you, how many times have i told you to cut this shit out.” iwaizumi launched towards the male, he was now raising his voice as he made reach for the ball. it was insane how much he would get riled up when it came to oikawa’s safety even though he hated to admit it.

“why are you like this.. you’re all like this, why are you trying to stop me? i need to get better, i need to do better, i need to—“ his words were cut off by a swiff headbutt from iwaizumi causing him to go crashing towards the ground.

“don’t you ever get tired of saying selfish shit.” it was obvious that anger was building up within the ace, but if you didn’t know him well enough you would miss how it was interlaced with pain and sadness. the sight of his bestfriend hurting himself took a toll on him too regardless of if he showed it or not and he couldn’t bare the sight of oikawa mistreating both you and himself. growing up together iwa found himself as the boys sole protector, as if he was his responsibility and now as the days grew longer it seemed as if the burden was almost getting to heavy to carry. the last thing he wanted was to have to walk away from the friendship because it was becoming too stressful and draining, no, because part of iwaizumi was oikawa and he couldn’t imagine his life without the selfish boy.

“don’t you wanna win? why do you play iwa? are you content with the participation awards? because i’m not.” the setter grit his teeth as he reflected back on his recent loss. the way the ball had hit the ground just a hair out of his reach, the way the score was so close and the taste of victory was almost on his tongue, the fact that it was their last try at going to nationals, the way it was his own kouhai who had beat him, the way he had disappointed iwaizumi above all. he had to make up for it, he had to make up for all of it.

“i play because it’s fun.” the ace shouted shoving him further into the ground. “i play because.. i like it, i like volleyball, and i like playing with you and the rest of the team, it’s made me who i am today.” his voice softened and he finally let go of his bestfriends collar, inhaling a deep breath as oikawa watched with wide eyes. “what does volleyball mean to you now? do you just want to be the best at what you do for something you don’t even find fun? look around, think about all the people you’re hurting.” he referred back to you.

“i’m doing this for you guys as much as i’m doing it for me—“

“no you’re not, we’re in our third year now, it’s done oikawa, it’s over.. there is no next game, there is no next tournament, there is no next time, and that’s okay because these past three years have been the best of my life, there’s nothing else i could have asked for, you’re the best partner anyone could ever want, my bestfriend and the best setter.” iwaizumi sighed collapsing backwards, hitting his own head as the words just kept tumbling out.

“really?” there was a newfound light in oikawas eyes, one that the ace much preferred in comparison to his gloomy figure that would always pop out when he was being much too harsh on himself.

“yes really, you are the best setter—“

“no.” oikawa cut him off unexpectedly. “really? i’m your bestfriend?”

“are you shitting me? you’re an idiot, who else would it be? we’ve been friends since we were kids.. stupid crappykawa.” he mumbled off at the end noting how sappy the setter had turned him.

“you have a way with words iwa-chan, or maybe you’ve just gone soft on me hm?” he joked around lifting the tense atmosphere off the two of them.

“and now you’re all smiling and shit? you were just depressed two minutes ago” iwaizumi clicked his tongue at the sight of his friend, he wondered how he was always able to switch his mood up so easily. sometimes he was envious of his ability to do so, he wanted nothing more than to turn off the nagging voice at the back of his head sometimes that would tell him—

“what can i say? i’m suddenly feeling inspired.” he looked up to the ceiling as if he was in some soft of romcom and iwaizumi scoffed at the sight of it. sometimes he wondered how he’d ended up with a bestfriend who was so cheesy.

“well good because aoba johsai isn’t the whole world, there’s a volleyball career waiting for you anywhere on this planet, but nothing everything is replaceable like that.” iwa successfully recaptured the setters attention with his last words.

“what do you mean?”

“y/n... she’s not replaceable but you treated her like shit today didn’t you? i saw her sitting out in the rain so don’t even try to deny it.” he gritted his teeth at the thought of it, the way your fingertips were icy cold, your warm tears juxstaposing the freezing rain, your clothes absolutely drenched and your catatonic state of pure silence as he walked you home. there was only one person who could be the cause of such pain, and he was standing in front of him now.

“the rain?” oikawa jumped to alert now, he knew he wasn’t in his right mind when he had spoke to you, all that was going through his head is that he was a burden that you needed to rid yourself from, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you or didn’t care about you or could live without you.

“what did you say to her?”

“i said i didn’t need her..” his heart clenched as he recalled the events, how could he be so foolish? and then to let you sit out there while he was ignorant to the entire situation as he stood there selfishly serving the ball over and over again.. “i scared her.” he swore he was on the verge of tears as he forced out those words, nothing hurt more then seeing your eyes wash over from love to fear in the matter of seconds as he towered over you. and for what? all you were doing was trying to help.

“well why are you still standing asshole? go to her, i’ll clean your mess up.” the ace sighed staring at the vast amount of balls sprawled over the court.

“no i can clean it up, don’t wo—“

“shut up, go.” he was interrupted by iwaizumi who had his best interests in mind as he always did.

“i owe you one.”

“you always do.”

—

finally changing out of your drenched clothes you could barely bring yourself to move, you’d already turned down food and avoided questions when your parents had ask why you were practically dripping onto the floor. it was too much to even speak, it felt like a part of you was gone, someone you had planned your entire future with just didnt need you anymore in the blink of an eye. you were even reconsidering your university options just to be closer to oikawa and now he had tossed you away like a tired ragdoll. you had been warned about oikawa before, plenty of people named him a playboy, even his own bestfriend had warned you to stay away but something had left you so drawn to the male that it was unexplainable. it was a feeling that only those who had experienced it would know, it was true love, if soulmates existed you were sure he was yours and never in your life had the thought of even breaking up crossed your mind.

the two of you had gotten into heated arguments before and many times it would end with you in tears or him storming out but he always came back. why hasn’t he come back? was it truly over? were you just not enough for him? you knew how important volleyball was and you always supported him but you hated seeing him overwork himself. did that make you a bad person? maybe you were, maybe he was right and you weren’t being the supportive girlfriend you were meant to be, it was your fault, you should be better right?

“y/n?” your thoughts were interrupted by a sickeningly familar voice and you turned to see the very boy that you were just thinking about. there was no doubt now that fate existed, otherwise why did things always end up like this?

“what are you doing here?” you narrowed your eyes at the setter, scrambling to wipe the tears off your face. you hated looking weak more than anything but you couldn’t help the dent that the entire situation had left in your heart.

“iwa-chan told me what happened and your parents let me in, were you crying?” he moved closer towards you, watching as you tried your best to stifle your tears as if nothing happened. you knew it was a pathetic attempt, you really did, but you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to be strong. you flinched backwards, causing him to halt his movement as he was making his way to cup your cheek.

the sadness that washed over his eyes in that moment was almost unbearable for you to witness. of course it would pain him that you would flinch away from his hands like that, it looked as if you were afraid.

“w-what? why are you flinching? i would never hit you, i love you.” you hated the way you knew exactly when he was telling the truth and when he was lying, and right now tōru oikawa was being the most genuine that he had in a long time. one part of you wanted to pull away so badly, to tell him that he treated you like absolute shit, that he didn’t deserve you and to scream and shout at him to get out. but the other part of you, the stronger part, wanted nothing more than to revel in his embrace, for him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear and promise how he was going to marry you one day while he played with your ring finger reminding you over and over again how much he loved you, because no one loved you like he did.

“please.. say something y/n.” he clenched his jaw as you stared at him with empty eyes, he couldn’t bare the thought of knowing that he was the one who had done this. it was always him who had caused you pain and suffering and now he was wondering if he had made the right choice by coming here.. if he hadn’t you would get over him one day wouldn’t you? you’d probably find someone who loved you without the grief that he always provided, someone who made you happy without requirement, someone who could give you a life that he couldn’t. what he didn’t know was how much you wanted to tell him how no one else mattered to you and how you had felt this way since the moment you’d met him but your mouth wouldn’t say the words you wanted them to so badly.

“why.. why do you always do this to me.” your voice cracked and you couldn’t hold it in any longer, your eyes glossed over before tears spilt out uncontrollably. you moved to clutch your own body, burying your head in your knees as you cried your heart out to your boyfriend who immediately moved to embarace you. what shocked him is how cold you were to the touch, you were sure to get sick tonight so he would stay by your side the entire time if he had to.

“i don’t know.. all i know is how sorry i am.” he pulled you closer so that you were not facing his chest as he brushed the hair out of your face and rubbed your back soothingly. “i cant explain it y/n-chan, i mess up really badly sometimes and i don’t know why, all i know is that life isn’t the same without you in it, since i met you everything just seems brighter, like it’s all worth it.. no matter what i say to you i will always love you.”

you cried harder as you came to the realisation of how weak you were for him.

“you’re the only person i can’t bear to lose y/n-chan, you’re the most selfless person i know, please don’t ever walk out of my life, i’ll do better i promise.” a tear rolled down his own eye as he imagined how empty things would feel without you, he wondered where he would get the willpower to wake up everyday.

“you promise?” you looked up at him with tear stained eyes through those beautiful eyelashes of yours, and how could he not love you when you still looked so pretty even when you were crying over him.

“i promise.” he hugged you a little tighter, wanting to memorise this moment for everything that it is.

“then i’ll stay by your side forever tōru.” you smiled softly at the thought of the rest of your life with the boy you always intended to spend it with.

“and i’ll marry you one day y/n-chan.” that day you fell asleep in your boyfriends arms as he stroked your hair and coddled you with promises that you’d remember for decades.

what the two of you didn’t know was how iwaizumi sat in the gym, motionless with a pained expression on his face and a slow tear rolling down his cheek as he led the boy he’d loved since childhood right back into your arms as he always had. he even stayed cleaning up for the rest of the night before practicing how he would face the two of you in school the next day with a smile on his face. as long as his bestfriend was happy he told himself.

because oikawa was wrong about one thing, there was someone more selfless than you.

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fieryhonesty · 4 years ago

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The life of You

[AO3]

“I’m sorry! My brain was everywhere this week I should have update this earlier! But certain Adeptus took all of my attention...”

Words: 3525

Not sure how long has passed but when you woke up you could feel a ticklish feeling on cheeks. Kaeya's head was hung down, snuggled close to you. His uncovered eye was closed shut, breathes were even and his arms were firmly wrapped around your waist. How can he sleep like this?

Before you could stop your hand it hesitantly reached towards the male's face. Gently brushing against his skin with your fingertips. It surprised you when he snuggled against your hand. Thinking he was asleep, how naive you are? This man is a light sleeper and good actor at once. He was probably awake even before your hand mindlessly shot up to his cheeks.

"I could get used to being woken up like this.~" Whispering while still having closed eye.

"How comes you are all flirty even after just waking up..." Remarking and retreating your hand. Hearing a disappointed sigh coming out of the male's lips

The rain has stopped, freeing yourself out of Kaeya's arms. Feeling how your clothes are still uncomfortably wet. Not as before but it was far from dry. He helped you to pack up things and then you headed back to the city. You two joked about how it would be funny if you would actually end up sick. You had proudly announced it’s impossible for you to get sick. It’s been a while after all.

Well how it always goes. When one's boasting about something too much, it gets back to them. And of course you got sick. Feeling horribly and unable to get out of bed. You quickly ran out of stocked food and since your cooking skills are miserable... Well even if you could cook there's no way you would be able to stand up and make something.

Maybe it's time to bother neighbors if they could fetch you some food but even that seemed like too much work. Laying on the sofa, listening to your protesting belly. Perhaps if you fall asleep it will stop making noises.

As much as sleeping with an empty stomach proved to be difficult. You managed to fall asleep, only to be woken up by knocking at the door. 'Archons, I can't- no I don't want to move...'

The knocking didn't stop and instead got more loud. It must be really urgent. Forcing yourself to get up, slowly reaching the front door. Using walls as support. Not even bothering to look through the peephole and open the door.

It took you several seconds to realize who you were looking at. Normally you would give him a smile but in your current state all you could manage was a silent groan. Expecting some earful remark but instead the scarlet haired man pushed the door open and slid inside.

Noticing he carried bags, you could smell something yummy. Eyes going up to meet up with his crimson ones. What's that look of his? Is it worry? Considering how Diluc usually behaves, you would have expected he would be angry at you. Clearly remembering that one day when it was colder and he met you wearing just light clothes. He gave you a long lecture and made you go home to fetch something more warm.

"H-Hey... what's with that look?" You coughed, nearly losing balance. Feeling a pair of firm hands supporting you. "M-My hero..." Murmuring before leaning against the tall man. You had long forgotten how it does feel to be sick.

You had no strength to protest or say anything when he moved your hands around his neck, securing his grip on your thighs and carried you. If you were not so busy with feeling 'I'm dying' you would have probably paid more attention to butterflies in your stomach. This way you just blamed it on hunger than anything else.

Diluc laid you back on the sofa, as gently as he could. If he was not sick worried about your well being he would probably scold you on the spot. When he heard from your landlord you fell ill he was not so worried at first. But giving it a second thought. He decided to pay a visit, now being glad he did so. Even more glad for being mindful and fetching some food and meds.

Something was telling him it will come handy. Little did he know his friend is irresponsible enough to not have any kinds of meds at home at all.

Not even painkillers?! One thing was sure, he will have to have a word with you later. For now he will just try to get you to feel better. Moving a spoon with syrup towards your mouth, ‘say: aah'. It felt like taking care of a kid more than an adult.

He didn’t need to check your forehead to know about the fever. Giving you a cold cloth over it. Hearing your little whine about it being too cold. When he was about to turn away your hand gripped on his coat.

"Diluc... I'm hungry..."

"Just wait a bit." He said, gently releasing from the grip.

Moving to the kitchen, looking around a bit and searching for needed stuff. Being aware of how you can barely cook, burning even the easiest things. He put his coat away, rolling up sleeves and getting rid of his gloves.

First he chopped veggies then sliced meat into tiny pieces. Being mindful you might have a sore throat and not being able to gulp too well. It's been a while since he cooked, however that meant nothing as he was quickly creating yummy magic in the pot. Stirring it every now and then.

The kitchen was quickly filled with the pleasant smell of chicken soup. Meanwhile he was waiting for it to be done. He made a lot of tea and some small snack. He planned to drop by later again to check on you and probably bring more food. By looking at you, he knew you would be laying down for a couple of days.

By the time when the soup was done he already made you drink a cup of tea and eat a part of an orange and banana. Your eyes were sparkling when he brought two bowls and placed one right in front of you on the coffee table. He was glad to see you have appetite, that's a good thing.

Giving it a try, despite your taste buds being sleepy. You could feel the intense chicken flavor complimented with a gentle and sweet carrot aftertaste. Eating was probably the most happiest moment of the whole day. It was good, and made you feel warm and full.

When you were done with the bowl, pleading eyes looking at the chef who was just half way through his own portion. He noticed your gaze, looking at the bowl. You didn't need to say it out loud for him to get the message.

As you were going through your second bowl he noticed your face is getting more color into it. Feeling a bit relieved but keeping his stoic expression. For some reason he was doubting his cooking abilities. He knew you wouldn’t say anything as you were hungry and all but still. That little uneasiness was there, trying to get under his skin.

Once you were done with food, having a happy and full belly. Leaning back on the sofa, feeling a bit better. Not sure if it's because of the meds he gave you or because of the food. Probably both. You let out a satisfied sigh.

"You are truly my hero, Diluc." Whispering as you patted your belly. "I didn't know you could cook."

"What's wrong about it? I might have maids but I can cook just fine, only if I had more time for it." He retorted before disappearing into the kitchen and bringing a small platter with cut fruits and more tea.

You were touched. Was he doing all of this just for you? Really?! You didn't know how much he could be caring. Yes he always seemed to be concerned whenever you showed up with some scratch or something. But this was a whole different level of caring.

Your heart skipped a beat when he reached to your forehead.

"You are still burning."

"Uh, huh?"

Not sure if you were burning because of being sick or because of his sudden touch. Averting your eyes and laying down. Feeling a bit confused why your body was reacting the way it was.

"Here." Giving you fresh cloth over your forehead.

"T-Thanks..."

Diluc hummed in response before retreating to the kitchen to fetch his clothing. He still has to take care of a few things. Before he left you called out to him.

"I will drop by later on in case you are worried I'd let you starve." Clarifying as he was adjusting his gloves.

"That's not it... I wanted to say thank you. I appreciate what you did, really."

He did not think of it that much. For him it was just a simple worry about somebody who's close to him. He'd be rather if you could spend your sickness at his manor as there is always somebody who could check on you. However in your state it’s better to stay where you are.

"Oh, Diluc! I guess you could take my spare keys... in case I faint so you can find me, heh."

It was a good sign as your humor was coming back a little. Although he would have preferred not to find you unconscious or something else. Still taking your spare keys felt a little too personal, glancing at you.

"Are you sure about it?"

"Ah, c'mon. If you were somebody else I'd reconsider it but I trust you. Besides, I was thinking of giving you spare keys before. It's not a big deal."

Letting out a sigh. He still does not feel right about it but coming to the conclusion it will be better if you just stay in bed. Also in case you will be sleeping he could just quickly leave food here and disappear again.

"Alright then. Where are they?"

"They are in- uh. Kitchen, first drawer. I hid them under cutlery."

Strange place where to hide spare keys but part of him was glad it had been the kitchen and not your bedroom. Not sure if he would have dared to venture in there. As much as you two know each other he has some boundaries and privacy respecting.

After he secured the keys he took his leave. Leaving you alone. You wanted to sleep but at the same time your brain was replaying last hour. It was somehow hard to believe somebody came to rescue. He literally came here just to cook and give you meds. And did not ask for anything in return.

This was the first time when somebody did it for you. It was a new thing to you. And the warm feeling inside, what is it? You were used to your assistant being worried, bringing some tea. But in fact you never were sick that much to end up in bed. Unable to get up or take care of yourself. It was usually just some minor cold which faded after two or three days of resting.

Diluc was dropping by for the next few days, sometimes staying for a while to exchange a few words, sometimes he just left food in the kitchen and left. It was mostly because of his schedule.

You felt a bit bad for him for making time specially for your needs. When you tried to bring it up and tell him it's fine, that you feel much better now. He gave you a lecture about how it would be more than irresponsible to roam in streets while being ill.

Also adding remarks on how stupid idea it was to hang out with Kaeya. When he first heard what was the cause of you falling ill he wanted to go after the said man. But you grabbed his hand, convincing him it was not Kaeya's fault. Like how was he supposed to know it will be raining? Which Diluc retorted with 'You could have hid somewhere before getting wet.'

You wanted to try and explain it more in detail but he didn’t care. Anything related to Kaeya was always making him at least annoyed. He refused to talk about him. Diluc let out a defeated sigh. He was tired to reason with you about it. Leaving it at remark "the knights are irresponsible as always, including their Captain..."

You deadpanned.

"Here we go again."

"What. You can't deny it."

Rather not answering that and just cuddling into your fuzzy blanket. Feeling much better than before. Fevers were gone and you could move around the apartment without feeling like you will die at any second.

He got quite used to just opening the door and entering like it was something he did for years. His first uneasiness tied to intruding his friend's place was gone. Perhaps he should have stayed more cautious for a bit as one day he came in and couldn't find you.

He ran into you as you just got out of shower. Probably both of you had a heart attack, he quickly turned away and murmured an apology. You also felt guilty, you could have got dressed in the bathroom, not to walk around just in a towel. Answering him with a little apology and asking if he could wait for you in the living room.

As you felt good enough to take a shower, you didn’t expect Diluc would come at this hour! Usually he dropped by around lunch or before dinner. There was no need for him to come twice a day.

Your fridge was filled with home made dishes tweaked to you likings. You really didn't know why he cared so much, why he troubled himself to cook for you. Maybe you should take some cooking classes once you are fit again. Just for the sake of not making your friends worried in future.

Now when you were dry and in fresh clothes, feeling more like a human. You could face Diluc who was just staring at the coffee table. Coughing to get his attention, exchanging embarrassed looks. And just like that you promised to each other to not talk about it.

Being glad it was just him who saw you. You were sure if it was somebody else he wouldn't let you be and tease about it for several days.

"So, what's new? Also fancy to have some tea or you gonna swoosh away?"

"If I were to swoosh, I wouldn't be here now. I have time. Also I brought you some fresh grapes, you need vitamins."

Giggling at the way he repeated the swoosh. Waltzing into the kitchen and putting the kettle on the stove. Finding it funny how the stove lately was used much more and it was only because of your friend cooking on it. You rarely used it, mostly to boil water or heat up some quick made food you bought at the market.

Checking the fridge and seeing a quite bountiful amount of grapes. When he said some you expected like one twig not three.

"Um, Diluc? Those grapes are from your... won't you miss them?"

You shouted at him while your head was still partially stuck in the fridge, plucking a few pieces.

"Do you really think this little will affect the wine production? Besides those wouldn't be used for wine."

You peeked into the living room mouth filled with several grapes.

"So you gave me some bad ones I see."

"No, it's not like that. You know we grow separate grapes for selling."

"I know. I'm joking, thanks by the way." Returning back to the kitchen as the water was boiling already.

A bit later you brought two cups of steaming tea and somehow managed to balance a plate with grapes on one of the cups. Diluc raised an eyebrow at you.

"You wouldn't die from going there again, you know."

"Ah yes, the Diluc I know is back. How about you compliment my uh... waitress skills instead of being sarcastic, hmm?"

Moving the plate closer if he wants but he just shakes his head. He brought it for you after all. Observing how you were happily stuffing your face with the fruit.

"You asked about the news. Your new sword is finished."

"A new sword? Since when I- DILUC?!" You had issues not to spit in surprise. Grapes on Diluc’s face was the last thing you wanted to see.

"What? The sooner it's done the sooner you can use it to keep yourself safe."

How can he say it so casually. Like it’s nothing?! You were staring at Diluc in horror. 'Please tell me you didn't pay for it too...' You already felt bad and paying for a sword was not a joke. Weapons are expensive, especially the sturdier ones.

"S-So... how much do I owe?"

"A promise you will look after yourself."

"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! IT'S EXPENSIVE!"

Diluc smugged at you. That damn smug was somehow fitting to him but that’s not the point. He paid for your sword?!

"Well how about this. Consider it as a gift. I still didn't give you anything to welcome you back despite you being here for a while now."

"But you don't have to give me anything! You already did enough with letting me sleep under your roof for a while and now you have been nursing me."

You couldn't resist the urge to massage your temples. "You better forget about my birthday and Christmas existence, you hear me."

Why was everyone giving you welcome back gifts?! The mugs you drink tea from are from Lisa. The bathrobe which was currently in the laundry basket was from Jean. Then there's Kaeya and his sleepover. Well the Darknight Hero was topping all of these in terms of price.

You were pondering over if this was his way to flex over a certain cryo user. Rather not asking him that out loud and changing topic.

"How's business? Last time you said you were rushing to a meeting or something like that."

"Not really meeting. Somebody was hosting a celebration and wanted a few barrels."

"Barrels..." You repeat mindlessly while Diluc drinks from his mug.

Your eyes lingered at his face for too long. He is really handsome, no wonder the girl from florists has hearts in her eyes whenever he passes by. His face is perfectly decorated with the loose hair which couldn't fit into his pony tail as they were too short.

"Why don't you tie up your hair higher more often?"

It escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. Realizing what you had said out loud. Inner panic was taking over you. Just why did you say that?! If you could you would jump behind the sofa and hide away from his surprised gaze. This feeling is mortifying.

"You think I should?" He asked with tilted head to the side.

"Um, forget about it. It was just a slip of tongue. Uh.. Any other news?"

You have to quickly change the subject. Diluc's gaze was killing you, you could swear your cheeks were slowly turning into the same color as his hair. In panic you pulled the blanket next to you over yourself. Diluc was just winking as he was confused with what his friend was doing. Clearing his throat.

"There's nothing much new. Well other than Aether will leave in a few days."

Peeking out of your cover. "Huh? Where to?"

"Liyue. There will be soon a rite of descension am I right?"

You hummed in response.

"I wonder. Where could his sister be? Also do you think once he finds her he will visit us before leaving to their world?" More than a question it was a slight worry. You weren’t sure about the boy’s plans, nor wanted to feel him like he is obliged to do something. He came here to search for his sister anyway.

Diluc sips from his cup again. "Probably."

"Mhhh, I suppose I could tag along. I'm sure he'd welcome a guide." Pondering over it for a while until you noticed Diluc’s gaze.

"What? I'm feeling fine. Thanks to your care. Besides, I have a feeling Mrs. Yue would like me to attend. Last year was so hectic and previous ones I was too busy. I mean... I'm a little eager to see it. So far I have only seen it once and it was just part way..."

Diluc couldn't say anything about it as he knew about the policy between you and the assistant. From what he heard people in Liyue tend to follow traditions and you look well. Probably you will be ready for the travel.

"I see. I guess I should give you back the keys."

"Keep them- in case of emergency. Or~ in case I adopt some adorable street cat and I will need you to feed it in my absence."

Grunting in disapproval. As if he didn't have enough keys already…

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#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact x reader #f!reader #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kaeya #diluc #kaeya #fiery series #what could go wrong?

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chibsytelford · 4 years ago

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Anniversary

*** GIF CREDIT TO CREATOR ***

@everyhowlmarksthedead requested - Me again 😏 Drabble challenge. Gilly with 11 and 46.

Prompts - “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” and “I thought you were dead!”

Taglist - @everyhowlmarksthedead @rebel-without-cause-x @whyisgmora @starrynite7114 @sadeyesgf @jadesamhart @fangirlingaesthetics @talicat713

You and your boyfriend Gilly thought it would be a nice idea to mark your 1 year anniversary by having a nice picnic on the beach, just the 2 of you. Gilly had changed your life since you met him. From day one he has been your rock. What attracted you to Gilly was his sense of humour. He was a quiet man, but occasionally he would come out with something that would leave you in tears of laughter.

You worked in a small café and Gilly was a regular. He would come in every day and order the same thing, a bagel with jam and a coffee. He never said much to you, but you always caught him looking at you, and he even sent his friend over once to ask if you were single. Then one day he managed to work up enough courage to speak properly to you. You still remember the interaction fondly.

“Can I have some butter for my bagel instead today please?” he had shyly asked you flashing you a small smile. You handed him the butter and you thought that was the end of it until he turned back around.

"Did you hear the rumour about butter? Well, I'm not going to spread it!" That joke he made was enough to win you over on the spot, and a year later you were still going strong.

-----

You and Gilly spent the morning making up your picnic basket. Gilly was in charge of making the sandwiches, and you were in charge of the goodies. You chose some chocolate, fruit, popcorn and crisps to go along with the sandwiches.

“Are you ready to go Y/N?” Gilly asked as he carefully packed up the picnic basket. He grabbed a blanket from the cupboard and added that in on top.

“Yeah I’m ready, let’s go babe”. You drove your car to the beach because unfortunately the picnic basket would not fit on Gilly’s bike. You loved sitting on the back of his bike, with your arms wrapped around his muscular body, cheek pressed against his back, hair blowing in the wind.

You pulled up 30 minutes later and luckily you had the whole beach to yourself. It wasn’t raining, but it wasn’t exactly warm either, and usually that was enough to put people of from coming to the beach.

“Why don’t we set up over there?” Gilly pointed to a golden section of sand that was surrounded by rocks and beautiful green seaweed.

“Sounds like a plan” you grabbed the picnic basket from your car and walked hand in hand down to the rocks. You were so glad Bishop gave your boyfriend the day off from club business. You had text the Mayans president explaining it was your 1 year anniversary with Gilly and he was more than happy to give him some time off so you could spend it together. You made friends with the Mayans immediately when Gilly finally introduced you to them. He was hesitant at first because he thought you might “like the other guys better than me” were his exact words. You spent that evening showing Gilly just how much you loved him and only him.

Gilly unpacked the blanket and spread it out on the sand, and gestured for you to sit down. He carefully unpacked the sandwiches, and the other goodies and spread them out in front of you.

“I made your favourite” he commented as he passed you a simple ham and coleslaw sandwich.

“Thank you Gil” you pressed a kiss to his cheek and took a bite from your sandwich. You spent the next few hours reminiscing about things you did together the past year, and what new things you wanted to do in the next few years of both your lives.

“I have an idea” you said to Gilly as you stood up and started to take off your clothes.

“What are you doing?” Gilly asked as he nervously looked around to make sure there was still nobody at the beach.

“I’m going skinny dipping, and you Gilberto Lopez, are coming with me” you said as you stripped down to your bra and pants. You reached your hand out for Gilly to take and you helped him stand up.

“Are you crazy? It’s freezing mami!” you were definitely more adventurous than Gilly was. He wasn’t a scaredy cat, but he needed a bit of persuasion to agree to do crazy things with you.

“Pleaseee” you pouted your bottom lip and you knew that would make him reconsider.

“Fine” he replied as he stripped down to his boxer shorts. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

“You won’t die Gilly, the water isn’t even that deep” you took off your bra and pants and threw them behind you. “Race you there” you shouted as you sprinted down to the water and jumped in. You looked behind you to see Gilly just standing there staring at you with a big grin on his face.

“Come on!!” you shouted at him. “It’s not even that cold” Gilly took off his boxer shorts and joined you in the water.

“Please tell me you brought some towels with you?” he asked.

“Ummm, no?” you flashed him a sweet smile and he playfully shook his head at you and splashed you with some water.

Gilly suddenly disappeared and you started to panic, turning around in circles trying to spot him. It was about a minute before you felt him tug your leg and pull you under the water with him. You both re-emerged and you slapped him on the shoulder.

“I thought you were dead!” you half shouted at him.

“I am” he shrugged. “Drop dead gorgeous” You couldn’t contain your laughter and the 2 of you were laughing crazily like teenagers in the water.

“Come on, let’s head home” you said to Gilly as you headed for your clothes to put them back on.

“Happy anniversary Y/N” your boyfriend pulled you in to him for a kiss that lasted a few seconds. “I love you mami”.

“I love you too Gilly”.

#gilly lopez #gilly lopez fanfic #gilly lopez drabble #mayans mc #vincent vargas

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hadesglance · 5 years ago

Text

All hail the new queen... - 13 (Hades Original Story)

You fought your way through the maze of the underworld to make a deal with the King…intrigued the lonely king listens…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

You stopped you bike in the lot outside of a large park. You were crazy to even try this but thinking back to that night over and over again. How you held Hades and he slept so soundly in your arms. The rest of the week you had checked his room, and every night he was racked with nightmares…you had to try for Hades’ sake even if it was crazy.

You swallowed down your anxiety and strode across the park to a quiet area away from the playgrounds and groups of teenagers that hung around. You took a deep breath in looking up to the sky seeing clear blue skies, “Alright…I know you can hear me…so please show up.”

You waited for a moment not hearing, seeing, or feeling anything. You felt your temper rise slightly, “Really!? You really want to make me beg for it, ‘cause you will be sorely disappointed, I don’t beg!”

Still nothing as you clenched your fist at your sides, “ZEUS! So, help me…I found a way into the Underworld…I WILL FIND A WAY TO YOU AND-”

“There’s t need to shout.” You heard the smug voice from behind you. He smirked as he crossed his arms a distant rumble sounded making his presence further known, “What can I do for you? Hades not giving you the satisfaction you need?”

“Can it, Pornstach, this isn’t even remotely about that.” You stepped toward him.

“‘Pornstach?’” He quirked an eyebrow quickly, “I’m assuming that’s an insult?”

“You would be correct…” You stopped in front of him with a huff, your irritation only rising.

“I’ll have you know…Hera, loves it.” He smiled confidently.

You smirked leaning toward him as you crossed your arms, “Hera, is being kind and lying to you.”

He blinked several times before looking away unable to find a way to dispute your statement, “What do you want?”

“You remember how you said you owed me?” He nodded as you took in g a deep breath, “Well…I want to cash in.”

“Alright…what is it? Pass a test…get you money…” He began to list off normal common wants and needs.

“I want you to let Hades miss the Titanomachy celebration.” You watched him freeze instantly, “I know it’s a lot to ask…”

“Ask? It’s something I can’t allow.” Zeus told you quickly, “I’m sorry, Y/N, ask for something else. Anything else.”

“Why can’t you? You know what it’s doing to him don’t you?” You watched this big giant ego of a man just deflate slightly as you pushed the subject, “Zeus, he hasn’t slept in days…and when he does get rest it’s just light. He can’t keep doing it, even if he is a god…it’s too much.”

“I know what’s happening and I’m aware of my brother’s unrest.” Zeus told you as he turned away.

You didn’t let him escape stepping in front of him, “Then let him stay home.”

“I can’t.” When you began to protest again Zeus raised a finger, “It’s his year. He’s the one who leads the ceremony, one of the original seven always does. It’s been half a century since the last one, so I can’t stop it and it wouldn’t be fair to pass the responsibility to one of my other siblings so late.”

You shook your head frowning, “I’m just so worried for him. He’s trying to hide it so much, but I can see how it’s bothers him. He’s anxious and afraid…”

Zeus nodded slowly before letting out a sigh, “Hades was the first son. Cronus had great plans for him and for it he made him suffer the most and the longest. Hades has… a lot to be anxious and afraid of.”

It surprised to you hear how accepting Zeus was. You did not figure him to be so accepting of one’s flaws, even his brothers, “You won’t tell me what happened, will you?”

“No.” He smiled shaking his head, “No, I can’t do that. It’s not my story to tell.”

“So I’ve heard.” You sighed looking away from him, “Zeus…please reconsider…”

“I would if I could…believe me I’ve changed the circumstances of this celebration many times and if it wasn’t happening in a week…I might have been able to do something, but it’s set in stone now.” He sighed, “It used to be every year…then every five…ten…now we’re at fifty years in between. It’s Hades’ turn and he will do what he must…next year it will be Poseidon, after that Hera, then Demeter…Hestia…Chiron and then myself…We owe to everyone to tell our story.”

“…how you saved the day?” You hugged yourself as you smelled rain on the air.

“No.” He shook his head smiling, “How we saved ourselves. You mortals chose a hero…I may have helped get my siblings out, but I’m far from the hero…a long time of ago I wouldn’t have said that and would have agreed with all of you. I have grown up since then.”

You looked at him, “So what? It’s all a show? The whole sex sex sex persona?”

“Again…A long time ago…” He cringed a little, “Look…I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I have since paid for them over and over, again and again. I’m on decent terms with most of my children and I love my wife. I might flirt and be an asshole, but I do care a great deal about our world…this world…”

“Wow.” You smiled a little, “That gives me a little hope for this sad universe.”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

You chuckled a little, “You’re a god, let’s be real, your life is nothing but drama.”

“Eh, well…you’re not wrong.” He shrugged with a smile before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry I can’t do this for you.”

You stared at him as his eyes drifted upwards a slow smile curling up on his lips, “…whatever just popped into your head…no….no I don’t want it…”

“Consider it a gift…I’ll still owe you, of course.” Zeus smirked leaning down close to your ear and whispered, “This will be for my brother.”

“Zeus!” You called after him when he disappeared, another roll of thunder rippled across the sky. You didn’t like the sound of this ‘gift’, “Shit…”

Hades walked through the halls of the manor looking for you. You weren’t in your room or the library. The dining room was empty, and none of the shades had seen you in hours. He sighed entering his office and shutting his eyes reaching out to Charon at gate.

The Ferryman appeared before him. His mortal form suited him nicely, if all security guards looked as intimidating as Charon the world might have been a less scary place, “Sir? Can I help you with something?”

“Did Y/N go somewhere today?” Hades asked him leaning against his desk, “I can’t find her here.”

“She did take off earlier, she said she had an errand to run. That was about 9.” Charon told him.

“Errand? On a Friday…she doesn’t have school…Did she say when she would return?” Hades crossed his arms staring at him.

“No, sir.” An eyebrow shot up above the aviator glasses, “Is there something wrong?”

A loud rumble shook the house making them both look up as silence filled the house. A moment later heavy rain could be heard hitting against the roof.

“Just a feeling.” Hades whispered.

“Sir, I feel it’s important to remind you that she took Lana.” Charon put his arms behind his back.

“Lana?” Hades squinted at him confused for a moment before he stood up straight, “Oh…oh…thank you Charon, that will be all.”

Charon left as he pulled out his phone swiping up dialing your number quickly. It rang over and over until it went to voice mail. He silently cursed redialing as he felt a strange sensation fill his gut. Again, you didn’t answer.

He stared at his phone for a moment before putting it down on the desk. He had promised himself to trust you. To let you go about your life as normally as possible, but he couldn’t shake this strange feeling that something was amiss.

He shut his eyes reaching out across the distances of the city. Searching for his connection through the many souls. Each glowed a different hue depicting who they were and what line they came from. He went far from the manor through the rain, until he found you.

His eyes snapped open as he stood under an overpass. You were on the other side kneeling next to you bike cars whizzing past you. You were soaked and looked miserable as you checked it over.

When it was finally clear to pass, he ran over to you, “Y/N?”

Your head snapped up to him surprised, “Hades?”

“What are you doing? What happened?” He asked you quickly watching you stand up wiping your hands on your jeans.

“I broke down, just as it started to rain. I had to push her under here.” You sighed pulling out your phone, “And my battery conveniently died.”

The way you said everything insinuated there was more to the situation, “Are you okay?”

You looked back up to him smiling a little before you nodded, “Yeah, just wet and cold.”

Relief spread through him quickly. He began to take off his jacket, “We should get you warm then, and out of this rain.”

“Hades, you don’t-”

“I want to.” He interrupted you as he moved in putting his jacket around your shoulders. You stared up at him when he got so close. He wished you wouldn’t, the temptation was just too great.

His hand found its way to your face fingers tracing over your cheek as his thumb absently ran over your lower lip. Realizing what he’d done, he stepped away clearing his throat, “I’m sorry…”

You pulled his jacket closer around you, “I…it’s okay.”

“We should get you home.” He told you holding out his hand to you.

“I’m not going to leave Lana here.” You told him giving him a side eye.

“You’re going to get sick. You’re soaked to the bone.” He protested, “I’ll have Charon come retrieve it, if it makes you feel better…but really you are going to catch a cold.”

“I’ve got a very nice jacket now.” You smiled at him tucking your head further into the coat almost like a turtle, “Besides…I don’t think Zeus is going to just let us go.”

“Zeus?” Hades squinted at you, “What does he have to do with this?”

“He claimed it was a gift for you…whatever that means.” You shivered a little, “But by all means, whisk us away if you can.”

“…” Hades stared at you for a moment longer letting his hand swipe over his mouth, “That explains why you’re stuck in the rain, my brother is…irritating, but it does not explain everything else.”

You froze looking at him before looking away, “I just…please know I just wanted to help you.”

“Help me?” He was becoming more confused.

“You told me he and Hera owed me a favor…” You wouldn’t look at him which made him nervous, “S-so I asked him to let you out of the Titanomachy celebration.”

“You-you what?” His eyes got wide, “Why would you do that?”

You stared at him as a few cars whipped by before you answered, “Because I care about you…and I care that this hurts you…I just-I thought maybe…”

You cared about him. He had to take a step back at the impossible words, “…you shouldn’t worry yourself. I’ve managed before I will again.”

“It’s not who I am, Hades…” You stepped toward him gaining his attention smiling at him sincerely, “I can’t just shut off caring about someone, especially you.”

He stared back down into your eyes before reaching out taking your hand. He thought of home, his office, the way he wished to hold you once he got there…but when he opened his eyes he was not in his familiar surroundings. Instead he was on a beach with you.

He growled, “Zeus! You cannot bar me from my own realm!”

“Aidoneus?” You both turned soaked to a woman holding towels. Her tan skin and dark hair matched the region they were in. She smiled brightly at you both, “Your brother called ahead and booked a room for you. This a very strange place to check in though, but we’re happy to accommodate newlyweds.”

Hades tensed looking over to your flushed face before he sighed taking the towels, “Well…we desired to see the ocean first…I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Not at all sir, just unusual.” She smiled more reaching into her pocket pulling out a key card, “Your luggage is already in your room, please take your time, and enjoy your stay.”

The woman left leaving you both alone on the beach. Hades sighed handing a towel to you, “I’m sorry…”

“No…it’s my fault. If I hadn’t tried to be helpful…” You took the towel holding it to your chest, “Hades, I didn’t mean for any of this…I just wanted you to get some rest and now…”

“And now…we are going to abuse this as much as possible.” Hades interrupted you putting a smile on his face, “If I’m barred from my own realm, I suppose I’ll get some rest, won’t I? Your request seems to have not gone on deaf ears.”

You perked up a little at the notion, “I guess so…First we should probably figure out where we are?”

Hades turned looking out at the ocean squinting for a moment, “If I had a guess, I’d say the Bay of Kotor.”

“…and that’s…where?” You smiled as you stepped up next to him.

He turned his head to you with a smile, “Montenegro.”

Your eyes got wide as your mouth dropped open, “Wow…twice in three months across the world. The only two people in my family that can say that are my brother and Pappoús.”

“Your grandfather traveled backed to Greece then?” He asked you.

“Yes. He came to America first…you know the story I’m sure…prepare, get a job, a house…then he went back for Gigi, and then my great uncle and his family…and then for my other great uncle… Soon the whole family was here trying for a better life.” You smiled staring out at the ocean for a while before you spoke again, “I always wondered what it would have been like if they hadn’t left Greece.”

Hades stared at you for a moment before extending his hand to you, “I could show you…if you wanted.”

“Show me?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged smirking a little, “Sort of…fate and I work together closely…because of that we can see things normally we wouldn’t. If you wanted, I could grasp some strings and show you what could have been.”

The offer was tempting. He could see you considering it, curiosity coursing through your beautiful eyes. Finally, you looked away shaking your head, “No…I wouldn’t change anything and knowing wouldn’t do me any good.”

“You wouldn’t change anything? Truly?” He cocked his head a little.

You looked back up to him eyes twinkling, “Of course not…If things were different, I probably wouldn’t be standing here with you…in this amazing place…”

I love you…

He spoke it aloud in his head as he reached over taking your hand in his. You squeezed his hand making his heart race as he smiled at you, “We should get you dried off.”

#ALL HAIL THE NEW QUEEN #all hail the new queen...#Hades #hades and persephone #hades mortal #hades/reader #HadesGlance #Zeus #Greek #greek gods #greek mythology #titanomachy #olympus #Olympians

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marveling-marvelous · 6 years ago

Photo

Coraline AU [Part 2]

(Due to everyone’s incredible support for my last Coraline AU thing I’ve decided to continue this story on a little further! Thank you so much for enjoying my work and encouraging me to keep writing. It’s great to be back to writing Starker again. <3)

——————

Time moved differently in the Other world.

Peter had never noticed before, having only ever spent a few hours at a time there. In reflection he should have clued in. Time never flew by despite all the fun he had in the beginning, and now it only drug out ever longer.

For the first few years in buttons Peter was defiant. He fought Other Tony tooth and nail every step of their eternity together, and when he finally managed to push those button eyes far enough Other Tony would let him know. Locking the boy beyond a mirror into a room void of any magic or light, leaving him there to “reconsider his actions.”

Peter expected Other Tony to return for him not long after and yet he was left waiting. The room lacked any windows, comfort or even concept of time, so Peter feel himself slipping in his solidarity. He realized soon that Other Tony wasn’t after to play the waiting game. He must have spent years in that punishment room.

Not only reconsidering his actions but every part of his life before this world.

When Other Tony finally returned, he ran into the monster’s loving arms. He didn’t have any part of his former self left to be disgusted by his own weakness. He just wanted to be freed from this limbo. Whatever Other Tony wanted he would do it— whatever it took to keep him acting most like his real Tony so he could just hold on to that small semblance of his old life. He’d do anything.

“Who are you talking to?”

Other Tony was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes he didn’t have to— being an all-powerful supernatural being and what not. Yet even after years together Other Tony still liked to keep up the domestic charade that had lured Peter in. He seemed to enjoy his own performance so much that he never wanted it to end.

“The rats.” Other Tony answered. Peter managed to confirm the answer as he spotted multiple disease ridden, boney tailed rodents sitting on the window sill, looking up at him with similar beady, button eyes.

“I... see.” It was the little details like that which left Peter deeply disturbed. He didn’t want to remember how his perfect little world here really held such vile things.

“What are they saying?” Peter dared to ask. Even now the boy didn’t know hardly anything about this Other world or how Other Tony worked but he did know from his own experience that the rats were Other Tony’s link to the real world. They were his eyes and ears and reported everything back to him.

He knew Other Tony wouldn’t answer. Peter wasn’t permitted to know anything of the real world in all his time here, that wouldn’t change.

Evidently today was different.

“A new kid moved in.”

Peter did his best to seem unphased with the information. Still his heart swelled. Other Tony trusted him.

“Into the Pink Palace?”

“Mhm.”

“I see...”

Other Tony sighed, placing the final dish into the drying rank before turning to face the boy standing in the kitchen’s door frame.

“You may or may not have started to notice but I really need this one, love.” The monster in man’s skin reluctantly admitted. Stepping closer. “My power is fading.”

“Power?” Peter’s voice was small and desperate for answers he was too scared to know.

“I need mortal souls to maintain this world and everything in it. This form, this house, even your existence will be lost.” Other Tony had locked their plastic gazes together as he spoke. “This one might be our last shot.”

Peter tried to ignore the way Other Tony attempted to ease the blow of those words with a tender, ice cold kiss to his cheek. Peter tried desperately to focus on what any of it meant.

“You want to steal another kid’s soul...? Like you did mine?” He really did try to hide the obvious spite lingering on his tongue.

“Though your soul... remains with me I’d hate to have to use it. Especially when there’s another perfectly deceivable soul just a door away.”

It sounded like a threat, but Peter seemed to black that part out, too focused on keeping this world as close to his old one as possible. He wasn’t ready to let go of the last bit of his sanity. Whatever it takes.

“What do you need from me?”

A genuine smile— a wicked warning spread across Other Tony’s face upon hearing Peter’s words. For a moment Peter caught a glimpse of his real Tony and he really felt like he was making the right decision.

Other Tony pulled the boy forward, and spun him around the kitchen in a merry dance. Raining praise on his boy in the form of peppered kisses to his face.

“I knew you’d be perfect! I knew you’d make me proud!” The man exclaimed while spinning the boy around. He only stopped his affections when he remembered time was now of the essence.

“Right then, what I need from you. I only have enough power left to make this world suit his tastes. I won’t be able to conjure up any interesting characters to help with the hard sell.” Other Tony explained, grinning crookedly back at Peter. “That’ll be up to just you and I.”

“But I can’t shape shift. I’m just me some random kid they’ve never met.”

“He’s not picky, a simple child with simple tastes I’ve been told. He just wants a dad to coddle him and an older brother to look up to. These forms will serve us well enough.” The man reasoned, humming contently as he felt all the pieces falling in place. Still Peter had one last question.

“...When is he coming?”

Other Tony paused. Freezing in place as he seemed to be asking himself the same question. Finally, he landed on an answer after he looked toward the rats once more.

“Tonight.”

Peter nodded silently in response, pulling away from Other Tony’s grasp to go prepare himself for whatever was to come of this night.

“And Peter,” Other Tony reached out. “No long faces tonight. I wouldn’t like it.”

A chill shot up Peter’s spine. Again, he just reminded himself that if he just did what Other Tony wanted he’d go back to being like the real Tony. He had to do this for him. For his own sanity.

“Yes, sir.”

Whatever it takes.

——————

His name was Harley.

His father had skipped town when he was a kid and he was left to function somewhere between a busy single mother and an annoying little sister. That was the weak point. The opening that Tony had built their plan around, and it was working.

Harley asked even less questions then Peter had. Immediately taking to Other Tony’s fatherly adoration. Peter on the other hand struggled to connect at first.

“Who are you?” The little boy asked, beaming up at Peter. Already willing to welcome Peter into his life with open arms no matter the answer it seemed, but Peter just stood there with his mouth open, hands shaking.

He hadn’t realized till then that he had forgotten his last name.

It wasn’t even important. It wasn’t like he could tell the kid his real name, but it wasn’t like he could ever tell anyone else again either. He lost a part of himself and he never even noticed. He would have stayed there nearing tears if it wasn’t for Other Tony’s firm presence suddenly behind him, taking the reins.

“This is your Other brother, kid. He’s quite the science enthusiast himself just like you.”

“Really?!”

“Ye...eah. I used to be a part of a science club at school.”

He was? He was. He took a breath. At least he still remembers somethings.

“Oh? What happened?” Harley asked, picking up on the past tense attached to Peter’s statement.

“N-nothing.” Peter quickly shrugged off the question, luckily Harley didn’t press any further when Other Tony caught his attention instead.

“You know Harley, while I make us all dinner, I think Peter would love to show you his stargazing telescope.”

“He has a telescope?!”

“He does.”

“Mhm.” Peter agreed.

He did now.

“That’d be amazing!” The kid was just glowing with excitement. Peter hated how much he saw of his old self in that kid. He was so stupidly naïve. He still was.

“Well, you two go on then, no time like the present!”

Before the two boys headed upstairs as Other Tony directed, Other Tony pinched Peter’s side for his attention— a warning. He said nothing, just smiled uncomfortably wide and Peter caught on quickly.

Peter matched the man’s smile. Hiding how painful the expression was to hold. That seemed to appease the demon enough, and Peter scurried up the stairs after Harley.

——————

“I’m so jealous of you, Peter.”

Peter never expected to hear Harley say that. Not anyone really.

“Huh?”

“You get to stay here forever! Everything here is so perfect. I’d do anything to have what you have.”

Suddenly Peter felt a weight in his stomach, a dizziness in his head. This was real. He had been watching a kid walk into the bear trap, hoping he wouldn’t notice this whole time, but this kid was blind as a bat and didn’t have a chance from the minute he crossed over. It was painful to watch.

He needed to say something. This was the opening Other Tony would want him to take. He hesitated.

“I mean— it’s not that great here.” The boy scoffed, shrugging a shoulder casually as his fingers toyed aimlessly with the set of telescope lenses nearby.

“You’re kidding! You don’t have a mom to boss you around all day or a little sister always in your stuff. I’d kill to be you, Peter!”

Peter thought after all these years he had grown colder, ready to handle all of the horrible things in his life now. He blamed the kid. The clear look of utter admiration he gave Peter. It made him weak again.

“They love you.” Peter mumbled suddenly, Harley didn’t seem to catch it as he had his face buried in the telescope.

“Huh?” The younger boy asked casually but Peter couldn’t handle seeing the boy’s obliviousness for another moment. reaching forward to grab the boy by his shoulders.

“Your mother and sister love you! You may not see it now but if you spend another hour here you will.” Peter realized he sounded like a lunatic and judging by the boy’s confused expression he must have looked like one too.

“Wha.. Peter, I don’t understand.” Harley exclaimed, suddenly sounding as insecure as Other Tony knew him to be.

“You need to go home. Now! He’ll steal your soul and sew buttons into your eyes if you let him trick you!”

Just then the world tilted.

Everything suddenly looked just a little off, darker and duller. Peter was quick to push Harley aside from the window to look outside and he noticed there was no outside. Nothing but blackness stared back at him. There was no depth only a blank void.

Those damn rats moved quick.

“We have to go.” Peter insisted, rushing to the exit. Harley just watched him completely at a loss for words having just seen the world he had spent an hour worshiping be snatched away from him. “Now, Harley!”

Harley shook himself back together and followed closely behind Peter much like a lost puppy. Peter was just happy to see some sort of caution to the younger boy’s actions now.

The hallway was normal, everything inside the house remained intact other then the slight curl to the wallpaper, shriveling up the walls as they rushed down the stairs, but Peter couldn’t afford to let the warning signs stop him now. He was in to deep to look back now.

“Quick, get back to the door! As fast as you can! I’ll deal with him.”

“No!”

This kid seriously wanted to die.

“What do you mean no?!”

“Not without you!”

It was disturbing how the idea never crossed Peter’s mind. Could he go back with Harley?

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s nothing left for me in that world. For crying out loud I have buttons for eyes, Harley! I’m just as much of a monster as he is!” Peter didn’t mean to sound so harsh, he was just upset being reminded how little he had left to live for.

“You’re Peter Parker!” Peter froze. That name. That was his name!

“What? How do y-?”

“I recognize you from a photo the man in the garage keeps. They all told me you went missing after a misunderstanding you two had. They all blamed him!”

Tony? His real Tony? He was still alive, but it had been years Peter had thought. Hadn’t it?

“They told me not to talk to him, they all thought he was crazy. That he did might have done something to you. But he didn’t! He talks about you like you’re his own son. You have to come back with me, he has to see you!” Harley huffed, emphasizing his point as he clung desperately to the older boy’s arm. He wouldn’t be letting go easily.

Tony missed him? He mourned for him? He cared?

Peter’s heart swelled at the possibly. His Tony was still out there, after all this shit he was still there thinking of him. That was something that made it seem worth trying.

He had to see him.

“Fine, let’s go.” Peter answered simply. He ushered the boy into the living room, pointing frantically toward the small child size door. Harley rushed over, grabbing the button shaped key from his pocket.

“So,”

Instinctively Peter put himself between the boy and the demon he knew to be on the other side of that demented voice.

“This is what you chose. Just when I thought you were becoming the most delectable fly in my web.”

In all these years Peter never saw Other Tony’s true form. He still wasn’t sure if this was it. The human skin he wore still remained but pulled taught across thin needle like bones. His arms and legs resembled more closely to that of a nightmare sized beetle rather than a human. But most notably Peter observed the cracks spreading across his sharp features reaching even his button eyes. It seemed the cracks ran deep.

Be brave, Peter.

“He’s just a kid. He doesn’t belong here, he doesn’t deserve what happened to me. I won’t let you hurt him.” Other Tony just scoffed, his tall frame hunched over as he sat on the far side the room on the velvet sofa. Light barely reached him there, he operated best in the shadows.

“Let’s not pretend like you suddenly became so heroic for this child’s sake. You couldn’t care less about him. If anything, you’d love to see someone else’s life be ruined by me. To watch someone fall even harder then you did.”

“I- That’s not true.”

“We’ll see.” Other Tony smiled. Teeth now sharp and serrated, his silver tongue unnaturally red against his colorless spider-like body. “We’ll see.”

“Peter, duck!”

Peter barely had time to process Harley had already gone back through the door, only now returning with something in hand before he dodged out of the way. The something that Harley brought back just propelled a powerful blast in Other Tony’s direction. Peter could hear it take the breath out of the demon’s chest from across the room.

“What the hell was that?!” Peter shouted at the boy, afraid for himself now too.

“Potato launcher! Don’t make me explain, just come on!” Harley hollered back, gesturing with his whole arm for his friend to follow. Peter scrambled to crawl back through the small door. Harley fumbled with the key but managed to lock the door behind them. Then the banging came. The door radiating a sickening green hue with each deafening thud.

“Follow me!” Harley shouted over the booming impacts. Peter listened to the younger boy’s instructions without question.

He was free.

After all this time Peter was going home. He wondered what had changed, what would welcome him in the other side. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach as he wondered what became of his real Tony. Every emotion seemed to be going through his head drowning out the thundering blows on the door behind him, but they couldn’t shut out Other Tony demonic screams.

“YOU’LL BE BACK. YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME.” Peter just did his best to ignore it. They were just the desperate last attempts of a monster trying to live. He wouldn’t fall for it. Peter had stopped listening. All his thoughts were on his real Tony. Nothing else mattered.

“YOU’LL DIE WITHOUT ME!”

Nothing else mattered.

——————

Tagged as requested: @occulta-lacrimarum13

#starker #coraline au #part 2 #peterxtony #tonyxpeter #spideriron #WHEEE

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mostfacinorous · 5 years ago

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Whumptober 18th

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

Whumptober 18th: Muffled scream

The cultists were getting daring. It must be the internet, and the ability to find people with shared interests, regardless of whether that was knitting or demonic summoning rituals.

It had been a good long time since either of them had been summoned, mostly because Aziraphale was very good at tracking down books, and kept the relevant ones under lock, key, and celestial protection.

But that didn’t stop them from using other, Earthlier methods.

That is to say, one day Crowley got jumped in an alley by a bunch of half-witted pseudo-demi-neo-satanists.

Aziraphale had been expecting him, waiting for the Bentley to roar down the street and pick him up for a lovely spot of supper before they went to their concert for the evening. Crowley had found, according to him, the most tempting little Hawaiian food stand, complete with tropical drinks to brighten up even the dreariest of London weather.

Which, as it was nippy and raining, Aziraphale was rather looking forward to. Along with the company, of course.

And, as his expected company grew later and later, and didn’t answer either his desk phone nor his pocket one, Aziraphale grew… concerned. Crowley had gotten good at letting him know if Hell was calling him back, if for no other reason than to be sure someone would see to his plants if they kept him longer than anticipated.

But with their plans thrown into the mix… Crowley never cancelled if he could help it, and then it was with profuse promises to make it up later. He’d never once simply skipped out on Aziraphale.

Which meant something must be wrong.

When it hit the six hour mark with no sign nor word of Crowley, Aziraphale opened his senses, searching for him the way would search for a bakery by smell. It was just that singular note of familiarity, amidst all the rest of the teeming sensory input. And he followed it, locking the shop behind him, miracling himself unseen, and launching into the sky, his wings enjoying the uncommon stretch, even as he focused on his worry and his sense of Crowley’s whereabouts.

Everything became sharper, and Aziraphale frowned, pointing himself in the right direction and wondering what in heaven’s name Crowley was doing in Somerset of all places.

When he landed, he was rather far removed from anything-- most of the area seemed overgrown and disused. There had been a big house, back some ways away, and a couple of lakes, but... If not for the lights ahead, and his own superior sight, he mightn’t have even made out the eerie surroundings.

Whoever had Crowley-- and he couldn’t sense any other demons, nor any angels for that matter, so the humans who had Crowley had brought him to an abandoned childrens’ park.

There were rails, though no trains were in sight. A river cut through the area, but it was sluggish, its banks littered with all sorts of debris-- including a massive amount of long-dead glowsticks, which spoke to the location’s popularity as a site for raves.

He stepped distastefully over what he vaguely recognised as drug paraphernalia, and wrinkled his nose at a sign welcoming him to ‘Crinkleybottom Junction’. A niggle of familiarity wormed in his mind, and he sighed, finally realizing where they were.

Crowley and his bloody fixation with television programming. He wound up the wiggling road and stopped in front of a small tunnel, peering through the dark towards the only building that showed any sign of life. Faintly, he was able to make out a single word: “Dunblobbin”

Which meant, of course, that the wart ridden yellow and pink spotted fixture ahead, the one with the lights coming through the empty windows, must be Mr. Blobby’s house.

He had no time left to wax nostalgic about Crowley’s failed attempt to horrify children, though, because he heard, of a sudden, an overly familiar muffled scream and the sound of hammering.

“Crowley!” he shouted in response, barreling around the rotting picket fencing and through the doorway,startling the half-dozen spooky looking twenty somethings that had gathered in the process.

Crowley had a bag over his head and was being staked to the walls, spikes through his hands, spreading him across the remains of a sculptural fireplace which seemed to have been originally made of chicken wire and polystyrene.

“Another demon!” One of the cultists cried, turning and damn near tripping over her red crushed velvet fancy-dress cape as she raised her knife.

“I’ll have you know,” Aziraphale began, cranking up his aura and pulling out the halo for effect. “I am an angel.”

He willed the girl to drop her blade, and she did, before sinking to her knees, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“And you--” Aziraphale said, turning his gaze to the men who had apparently just maimed his friend, “Have stolen my demon and ruined my dinner plans.”

Their tools dropped to the floor and one of them clasped his hands together, as if in supplication.

“We’re sorry-- we didn’t know! You can have him back, just don’t eat us! Please uh, you highness, holiness, uh-- my lord.”

Aziraphale paused, quirked his head quizzically, and then realized they thought he’d meant his dinner plans were the demon.

Well. Whatever put the fear of God in them, he supposed.

Crowley was keening through whatever gag they had on him, and Aziraphale abruptly was done talking. He wanted to get him down and seen to.

“Go reconsider whom it is you pray to, and repent.” He ordered. Then, when they still stood, stricken, he raised his voice. “GO!”

They scattered like vermin under bright light, and he turned down the halo and aura before approaching his friend.

“Crowley,” He said more gently, and removed the cloth bag.

Apparently they’d been doing some sort of twisted reenactment of that famous crucifixion, because when he drew off the bag, he could feel the drag, and sharp thorns cut into the skin of Crowley’s forehead before getting tangled in his hair.

He looked the picture of abject misery, and Aziraphale hated it. He gently pulled the crown of thorns free of Crowley’s hair, which lay tangled and stuck to the sweat and blood on his face. It was all wrong, all too far from the way Crowley always looked in Aziraphale’s mind.

“I’m going to pull you down now, okay? Are you ready?”

Crowley visibly swallowed, but nodded.

Aziraphale looked him over, considering, and decided it would be kinder to do it all at once. Like removing a plaster.

He was lucky they hadn’t managed to stretch Crowley’s arms out completely, or he wouldn’t have been able to reach, but as it was, he took hold of the bit of the stakes that stuck out, cold and iron and squared enough that he suspected they might be railroad ties.

“On three.” He said, for warning, then counted down. “One, two-- three!”

He pulled with his considerable strength and felt the cheap construction crumble.

With the gag still in Crowley’s mouth, his scream came out muffled, which was only a kindness to Aziraphale’s ears, since no one else was around to hear it.

Once released, Crowley collapsed to the floor, and Aziraphale threw the stakes aside, sinking to his knees with him.

Carefully, he reached up and pulled at the duck tape, which wrapped entirely around Crowley’s head, and meant pulling at his hair even more.

Finally, Crowley was completely freed, and the sweat and blood on his face began to mingle with his tears and the blood from his hands on the floor.

“Bout time you got here.” Crowley said, though there was no venom in it.

Aziraphale huffed out a soft laugh, and chose to ignore the rasp of Crowley’s voice, rough from his screaming, no doubt.

“Can you snap?” He asked, worried for the state of the demon’s hands, and Crowley sighed and struggled for a moment, but managed.

Aziraphale summoned his handkerchief again and began wiping at the blood left behind on Crowley’s now healed forehead before handing it to him to see to his hands. It was odd that he’d not cleaned himself up, and meant he had probably worn himself out with other attempted miracles, or fighting, or was just still out of it from the pain. Aziraphale didn’t comment, but instead did a quick miracle of his own to make them both look more presentable.

They still had to get back, after all.

“How did you get here?” Crowley asked, throat still sore sounding.

“Ah, I flew.” Aziraphale admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly.

Crowley snorted, and it was clear they weren’t getting back like that. Aziraphale wasn’t even certain he would make it back to the main road, tired as he looked.

“Give you a ride to the bus stop?” He offered, and Crowley jerked his head around to stare at Aziraphale disbelievingly.

Aziraphale realized too late the echo of Crowley’s offer from the night he’d given him the holy water, and he shrugged apologetically.

“It’s all overgrown. The place is abandoned. It’s also raining. And of course, we’ll have to commandeer a coach, but…” He shrugged. “I’ve got a strong bourbon back at the shop that should help take the edge off.”

He saw as Crowley’s mind struggled to catch up, and saw the exact moment he remembered what they’d had planned.

“I’m sorry Angel, we missed the concert.” He looked so guilty that Aziraphale didn’t bother stopping himself from leaning forward and pulling Crowley into a hug.

“Hardly your fault, dear boy, and I know you’ll make it up to me. Lots of other concerts out there. In the meantime though…” He stood, pulling Crowley with him, and as he’d expected, found him swaying on his feet.

He turned around, looked back over his shoulder, and awkwardly patted his own back.

“Hop on.”

Crowley looked like he’d bit a lemon, and though he obeyed, with his face so close to his ear, Aziraphale heard him mumble something about it being undignified, and he was grateful that Crowley couldn’t see his expression.

“Come now, tell me about Mister Blobby. We’re in his house, you know. One of yours, wasn’t it?”

And maybe urging Crowley to speak was unkind, with his rasping from his muffled screaming, but the glee with which he told the story did much to carry them out of the park and towards the road to home.

AN: Don’t know who Mr. Blobby is? Can’t believe they made a theme park around him? Well, now you do. You’re welcome.

#whumptober #whumptober2019 #good omens fic #religious flavored torture #kidnapping #torture #Mr. Blobby mentions cw

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leelee10898 · 6 years ago

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Fast cars & Freedom: Body say (9/?)

Ellie and Luca spend the day with Colt and friends. Will they be able to get along with the pending divorce? Catch up HERE

Raiting: Mature. This chapter contains NSFW content.

Pairngs: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Song inspiration:

Ellie darted across the Dormitory parking lot. he feet sloshing through the large puddles, body frozen from the cold East coast rain. She mentally reprimanded herself for committing to a school where it gets so cold. She pulled her rain soaked clothes off,immediately upon entering the warmth of her Dorm. She put on her trusty Langston sweat shirt on and a pair of leggings as she sat indian style on her bed. She pulled the cardboard box from the bag and ripped it open, tearing the foil wrapper as the plastic stick landed in her open palm. How did she end up here? In this mess?

She had been in school a few months, constantly tired, nauseous, she chalked it up to stress and nerves. It wasn't until her jeans wouldn't button, and the increased appetite did she realize she was late, very late. She took a deep breath, walking into the bathroom. A few minutes later she sat the test on the sink, forcing herself to look at anything but the slim piece of plastic.

Ellie paced the floor, it was the longest five minutes of her life. She was a smart girl, straight As, Valedictorian. Her common sense went out with window when it came to not one, but 2 bad boys. The phones timer went off, with shaking hands she reached for the test, flipping it over.

Two pink lines.

****

“Ellie? Earth to Ellie!”

“Hmm, what?” She perked up. “I was saying, I have Darnell’s number, you'll need to call his office and set up and appointment. Jesus, where were you?” Riya stared at her best friend. “I'm sorry Ri. My mind was elsewhere.” she sat up, trying to give her full attention. “Yeah, no shit. Whats on your mind El? You've been lost in thought a lot lately.”

“I was just thinking about the past, about the what if’s.” Riya rubbed her temples, this was the same song and dance she had been going over with Ellie for the past 5 years. Ever since Luca was born, she started with the what ifs.

“What have I told you about the past?”

“That its the past and there is nothing I can do to change it.” Ellie sighed. “Very good. But what you can do is focus on the future. Soon you'll know who Lucas father is, and you'll have that closure.” She squeezed her hand. “speaking of closure. Have you told Colt you filed?”

“Yeah. I um called him the other day and told him.” she filled Riya in in the conversation she had with colt, how he wasn't happy about her filing and asked her to reconsider. She and Luca were headed to Colts house the next day for a bbq and she hoped it wouldn't be awkward.

The next morning she woke up to Luca in her face, overly excited for their trip to Colts. Ellie got up and went through the motions of getting ready and also packed up. Colt gave her instructions to bring a bathing suit for them both, and a change of clothes as well as Pajamas incase they decided to stay over if Luca got tired. She chuckled to herself at the memory of their conversation. She had been doing this far longer, yet here he was telling her what to pack.

Ellie loaded Luca into the car and put the address into the GPS. She had recently bought a new car, Toby cried when he seen it. He was upset she did not take him with her and called it a grandma car. Her mind wandered, wondering what Colts home would look like. She had been to Logas house, it was beautiful, big, not something she would have picked herself, but it suited Logan well. When she thought of where colt would live, she could only picture the old garage. The small, Dimly lit living quarters off to the side with 2 small bedrooms.

She turned off the road, to where the GPS told her to. Her eyes widening at the sight in front of her. It was a modest blue,beach front cottage with a large wrap around porch. This was definitely not the garage. She got out of the car, unhooking Luca from her car seat when she looked up to see colt standing shirtless at the top of the stairs. “Cooooolt.” luca went running into his arms. “Hey squirt, you ready to have some fun?” Luca shook her head enthusiastically “Ahhh heck yeah I am.”

“Luca! Watch the language.” Colt chuckled shaking her head. “Go on in and see uncle Toby. He's been driving me crazy for you to get here.” Colt walked down to the car helping Ellie with the bags she had.

“You didn't tell me you lived at the beach.” She eyed him. “Yeah part time. You like?”

“Well the outside is beautiful, I haven't seen the inside yet.” He gave her a smirk motioning inside. The inside was just as nice, the walls were painted in earth tones, a nice nautical theme decorating the walls and tables. She didn't see it being the work of colt, clearly a female decorated, maybe an ex girlfriend?

He showed her around, three bedrooms, 2 bath. a nice kitchen, living room and dining area. She felt a bit jealous, she always wanted to live at the beach, or even just have a beach house to disappear to every so often. “Gangs all here. Toby, X, Mona. Want a drink?” He asked. She nodded “I'll have a glass of moscato if you have it.” Colt walked into the kitchen returning a minute later, glass in hand. “I asked Ximena to find out your favorite.” The gesture making her smile.

They walked out onto the back deck, Ellie hugging everyone her eyes settled on a woman, with long brown hair she had never seen before. Colt placed his hand on the small of her back, walking her over to the mystery woman. “Ellie, I would like you to meet my mom Darcy,” He looked at his mother “Mom, this is Ellie.” Suddenly Ellie felt very awkward, she tried her best to steal her nerves and extended her hand. “Hello, it's nice to meet you.”

“Oh honey no, I don't shake hands.” She stood up pulling Ellie into a hug. “It's nice to finally meet the elusive Ellie. If it wasn't for the few pictures he would stare at for hours, I would have thought you were fake.” “Mom.” Comt gave her a pleading look. “Pictures?” Ellie arched her brow at him, she made a mental note to visit the subject again later. “Ooook, I think Mona is looking for you.” Colt interrupted.

The afternoon went by, they ate and reminisced about the days of the MPC, Darcy sharing some stories of her time there, at least the ones she didn't mind Colt hearing. She had moved past that life long ago, but something in her eyes told Ellie something was unsettled there.

Colt and toby took Luca down to the shore line, letting her play. Ellie sat at the table watching them. The way Colt took to Luca warmed her heart. “Mind if I join you?” She looked up seeing cindy “Sure.” She answered, quickly bringing her focus back to the sight in front of her. “Luca is a gem, such a beautiful little girl and a lot of sass. She reminds me of Colt when he was a kid.” Ellie turned to face her “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, he was a smart ass from the time he learned to talk. Sharp as a tack too.” She chuckled. Ellie looked back towards the ocean, Colt shooting her a wink that made her momentarily.

“I can see what my son sees in you. Your sweet, kind hearted, intelligent, not to mention cute as a button.” Ellie blushed again “Ah thanks.” “You remind me A Lot of myself when I was younger.” Ellie turned her body towards Darcy, sensing she had more she wanted to say. “You were smart to get out of that life, make something of yourself. You were smart to file for divorce.” Ellie's eyes widened “Really? You're happy about the divorce?”

She took a long swig of wine, sitting the glass down on the table. “I love my son. He's always been drawn to the life of the crew, he's got a lot of Teppei in him. Sure he's on the straight and narrow now, but that can all change in an instant. For the Kaneko's, that life runs deep.”

Ellie couldn't answer, she had no words. Darcy reached out grabbing her hand “I can tell you still Love him, its written all over your face. End it while you can.”

“Well, it's time for me to hit the road. Think about what I said.” Ellie nodded her head as she watched Darcy make her way down to the beach to say goodbye to Colt. She sat there dumbfounded, but Darcy's words replaying in her head End it while you can. One thing she was sure of was the fact she needed A Lot more wine.

They enjoyed the rest of the afternoon hanging out and talking. Ellie sat at the outside table on colts deck. Talking with Ximena, Toby and Mona. They had gotten on the subject of parenting, and how her life has changed since becoming a mother.

“I have never been away from her for a whole night before. I've come home late, and she's been in bed. But she has always been there.”

“Oh sweetie. You need a night for you. Where you don't have to be Mom, and can just be Ellie.” ximena said. Colt stood against the railing watching Luca play in the sand, but listening to the conversation going on around him.

“I haven't had that in almost 6 years. I wouldn't know how to even act.” Ellie shook her head with a smile.

“Hey why don't Toby and I take her for the night.” Ximena grinned. Ellie hesitated “oh! I don't know.”

“Oh come on Ellie belly. It'll be great. Oh we can make a pillow fort, and watch minions, and make popcorn.” Toby squealed with excitement.

“Its Toby and X, El. You know damn well they would never let anything happen to Luca.” She looked between them, of course colt was right, toby and ximena were protective of her, and took to Luca as if they were her aunt and uncle. “Ok. Fine.” she sighed.

“yes!” Toby jumped up running to the top of the steps. “you hear that Lulu, you're having a sleepover at Aunt X and uncle tobys house tonight!” Luca came screaming, “Really? Alright! Yes! Thank you mommy!”

“Don't thank me, thank your Da-. Colt. Thank colt.” she silently prayed he didn't hear it, She didn't mean to say that, she had no idea if he was or not. But all of Colts certainty was affecting her thought process. Luca ran over throwing her arms around him. “Thank you Colt, thank you so much.” He softened right away, wrapping his arms around her, she could make out a faint glistening in his eyes.

Ellie could feel the stinging in her eyes, it had been the first real bit of raw emotion she had witnessed between either him or Logan with Luca. She didn't expect it to effect her that much. “Excuse me. I have to go, check something.” she tried to even her voice, but she knew he would pick up on it. She walked into the house, making her way towards the bathroom. “Hey, El. What's the matter.” the tears were already spilling from her eyes now. “No. Nothing. Im fine. Really.”

He touched her shoulder, turning her around. “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” she half laughed “You did everything right. It just got me a little emotional that's all.” Colt knew what she was talking about, it hit him in the feels as well.

“She. She really hugged me. Like a real hug Ellie. I don't, I don't know how to explain it.” He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. It was in that moment he knew, no matter what those test results said, he would protect that little girl with his life. Luca was the brightest star in his sky. and ellie was his Sun and his moon.

A short time later Ellie and Colt stood at the front door waving goodbye to Luca. Colt going back Inside to start cleaning up once the car was out of view, Ellie following a moment later. She jumped in the kitchen starting to wash dishes. “You don't have to do that, I can get those.” Colt insisted but Ellie waved him off.

He put the food away, and started cleaning other areas of the kitchen. “So what are you going to do on your night off?” he questioned as he wiped down the countertops. “I don't know honestly, maybe take a bubble bath, watch some tv.” she shrugged as she finished up the dishes. Her phone pinged from across the room “on second thought, maybe not.” She frowned. “What's wrong?”

“That was my dad, Sally is staying over. Maybe I'll just get a room for the night.”

Colt walked over handing her a glass of wine “You can stay here, don't argue. I have a guest room. Now take your ass out on the deck and relax.” He nudged her outside as he finished cleaning up.

Ellie stood against the railing, feeling the warm sea breeze against her skin. She closed her eyes letting the sound of the waves breaking against the earth calm her. She wasn't sure if it was her moments nirvana or the wine but she felt more relaxed then she had in a long time. Colt stood against the doorframe taking her in, this was something he could get used to, something he wanted more then anything he just had to change her mind, show her that they belonged together.

Ellie noticed Colt standing there out of the corner of her eye. “It's a beautiful view.” she spoke, back turned to him. “Yeah, it is.” He spoke never taking his eyes off of her. He walked over joining her against the railing. “I text X to check on Luca. She's watching a movie with toby in their pillow fort.” He chuckled. “I'm glad she's having fun. Thanks for checking on her Colt, you really have no idea how much I appreciate how accepting you guys have been of her.”

“Hey, you don't have to thank me El. I love that little girl no matter what.”

Ellie leaned up, placing a soft kiss on his lips taking them both by surprise. She pulled back their eyes locked, each searching the other for any sign. Colt made the next move, his lips back on hers this time with more force, he kissed her like his life depended on it, a hunger rising within him that he suppressed for to long. Ellies fingers tangled in his black locks, deepening the kiss a soft moan escaping her.

Colt reached down grabbing her by the back of her thighs and lifting her up, she wrapped her legs around him as he walked her into the house. He pushed her up against the wall his lips fixed on her neck. Her head was spinning, she hadn't been with anyone in a long time and the way his lips felt against her ignited a flame within her. With her legs still wrapped around him he pulled her sundress over her head, tossing it on the floor as he carried her to his room and laying her down on the bed. his hand reaching around unhooking her bra, tossing it across the room, lips crashing against hers as his hand gently kneaded her breast.

She knew in the back of her mind this wasn't a good idea, but the need to be touched, to feel the pleasure was overpowering. She reached up yanking his shirt off, her fingers caressing the ripples of his muscular chest. His breath hitching in his throat as she reached down palming his stiff length. His lips trailed down her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His tongue swirled each of her pink buds, giving each attention before making his way down her stomach to her hips. Ellies breathing picked up in anticipation as to what she so badly wanted, needed to happen next. His dark eyes met her lust blown ones as telling him all he needed to know, he hooked his fingers in her lace panties and slowly slid them down her legs.

He settled between her legs, slowly slid his fingers between her slick folds, moaning in Appreciation at just how soaked she was for him. The rumble of his voice and the feeling of his breath against her skin making the anticipation un bearable. Her mind told her no, to stop before it went any further, but her body said differently. She needed it, she wanted to feel his mouth on her, to feel his calloused hands all over her. “c colt, please.” She whimpered, trying to push herself closer to him, begging for him to end her misery. A smirk spread across his lips as he placed open mouth kisses against her sensitive skin.

He jutted his tongue swirling against her bundle of nerves. She let out a loud moan at the sensation, as he skillfully worked his against her clit, watching her chest rise and fall with hooded eyes as she neared her climax. He slowly slid two fingers into her, pumping them in and out, watching her come apart under his touch. She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, her legs began to shake as she cried out his name,he quickly pulled out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue as she came, him taking everything she gave.

Ellie laid there trying to catch her breath. It was everything she needed yet not enough, she needed more, she needed him. “Colt. Please.” she panted. He stood wiping his mouth, he knew what she wanted, he wanted it to, but he wanted to hear her say it, no he needed her to say it. “What do you want Eliana. Tell me what you need.” His voice deep and sexy, it made her body ache, and hearing him say her name turned her on even more. “I want you Colt. I need to feel you inside of me.”

I0n one fluid motion he stripped his shorts and underwear down, joining her on the bed. His mouth claiming hers as he settled on top of her. He reached between her thighs pumping his thick long length, teasing her with the tip. “Colt. Please.” she begged. He sunk into her slowly with a low groan resting his head in her forehead. She felt amazing, maybe even better then he remembered. Ellie sucked in a sharp breath as he stretched her in ways she dreamed about for 6 years.

He began to rock into her starting off slow, allowing her body to relax. His lips softly sucking on the spot of her neck that he knew drove her crazy. He began to pick up the pace, the need to hear her scream his name, to make her come undone becoming to great. He settled on his knees pulling her legs up lifting her slightly off the bed as she wrapped them around him allowing deeper access. “F. F fuck colt, yes.” she moaned as he bucked wildly against her, he lifted her up their bodies pressed against each other as she matched his thrust. He could feel her walls flutter around him, she was close and he wanted to blow her mind.

His fingers slipped down between her legs as he rubbed tight circles against her still sensitive clit. She buried her head into his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around him nails digging crescents into his back as her body began to shake. “Let me hear you Ellie. Let go, I got you.” He moaned into her ear “Oh Colt, yes. Don't stop. Don't stop.”

His name flew off her lips like a matera as the coil snapped, her body shook as she gave into an intense orgasm, her juices flooding his cock. The sensation to much to bare, he pumped hard twice before giving into his own release with a loud grunt. They collapsed into a sweaty heap onto the bed.

They laid their entwined with each other, neither wanting to move, both in fear that if they did they would lose the moment forever. Ellie knew she shouldn't have given into temptation, but at least this way they got a proper goodbye. “Colt.” she broke the silence, “this doesn't change anything. We can't-”

“Just let us have tonight Ellie.” He cut her off, knowing this wasn't going to change her mind. “Tonight.” She whispered as her lips found his again.

Permatag

@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater @blackcatkita @darley1101 @hazah

ROD

@daniv2278 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @going-down-downtown @mercyparkcrew @emichelle @annekebbphotography @powdesiree0816 @walkerismychoice @yesivefallenpreytothechoicestrap @zaira-oh-zaira @sweetest-marbear @simsvetements @zaffrenotes @professorortegasstudent @akrenich @ifyouseekheart @client-327 @choicelogansbitch @choicesarehard @paisleylovergirl @itskismetbb @itsmarleen @rhischoicesfanfics @distinguishedsaladoperawinner @iplaydrake @coffeebeandream @jasidu2

#trr fanfic #fast cars and freedom rod au #choices ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices ride or die #ride or die bad boy romance #logan x ellie #colt x ellie #rod colt #colt kaneko #logan rod #riya rod #darius rod

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inkjackets · 6 years ago

Text

To Save a Loved One Ch3

Warnings: angst and heavy grieving.

AO3

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8

~~~

Adrien woke up the next morning exhausted. He had struggled to sleep, and what little sleep he had gotten had been plagued with nightmares. He rolled out of bed. But he’d rather be at school than stay at home all day.

So it was after a lonely breakfast, disturbed only by the steady dripping of rain on the window panes, that he shouldered his bag and his burdens and made to leave the house.

Except his father was waiting for him. Standing, as usual, at the top of the stairs.

Adrien clenched his jaw and walked right up to the front door, completely ignoring him.

‘Good morning, Adrien.’

Adrien closed his eyes. He knew it wouldn’t have worked. He slowly released his hand from the door handle and turned around, refusing to meet his father’s eye, refusing to feel intimidated.

‘Hullo, Father.’

His father walked down the stairs towards him. Each step deliberate; delicate; soul piercing as they rung out in the marble hallway.

Adrien tried not to cringe away as his father drew close. Conversations with him these last couple of weeks had never ended well. He flinched when his father placed his hands on his shoulders, but rather than the vice-like grip he was expecting, his hands were warm and comforting. Adrien looked up with dubious surprise.

‘My dear son, are you alright?’ His father looked earnestly into Adrien’s eyes, but Adrien averted his gaze and shrugged. ‘You went through a lot yesterday,’ he continued. ‘It reminded me just how dangerous the world is.’ Adrien warily met his gaze. His father’s voice was gentle but had a deadly undercurrent. ‘You should stay at home.’

‘No,’ Adrien stepped back as panic flared in his gut. ‘I’m not letting you take that away from me.’

His father sighed and drew himself upright. ‘I’m trying to protect you, Adrien. You will stay at home. It’s what your mother would have wanted.’

Adrien looked deep into his father’s steely grey eyes. He willed those words to be true; that his father truly did believe that’s what his mother would want, and that he really did want to protect him. But with a dull ache, he realised only deceit and mistrust lay behind those words.

Adrien suddenly felt a deep exhaustion settle in his bones that had nothing to do with his sleepless night.

He shook his head. ‘It’s what you want, Father.’ He held his father’s gaze. For once those unreadable grey eyes were unable to unsettle him. ‘I wish you’d tell me why.’

His father didn’t say anything.

‘I’m going to school.’ Adrien’s face fell flat as he turned away. ‘Whether you want me to or not.’

Adrien could practically feel the reverberation of his footsteps as he walked through the silence. But they were cut short when his father’s soft voice sliced through the air once more.

‘There used to be a time where you called me Dad.’

Adrien froze. His father’s words dug a hole in his heart already black with grief and loss.

He closed his eyes and bit back the tears threatening to spill out.

‘There used to be a time where you cared about me,’ he said.

He felt his father stiffen behind him, but Adrien felt no remorse for his words as he walked out the front door.

In fact, he felt nothing at all.

~~~

Nathalie took three deep breaths before stepping through the doorway. She didn’t want to look like she’d been eavesdropping.

Gabriel’s expression immediately became unreadable. She thought she saw pain flash behind his eyes, but she wasn’t sure.

‘That didn’t go as planned,’ Gabriel said quietly. ‘He didn’t get angry.’

‘Sir?’

‘I demanded he stay at home. That should have upset him.’

Nathalie didn’t say anything.

‘He’s become apathetic.’ Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. ‘I need emotions if I’m to akumatise him.’

Nathalie’s knuckles whitened around her clipboard. She wanted to see Gabriel happy, she truly did. But she loved Adrien too.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

He lowered his hands. ‘I’m going to show him something I should have shown him a long time ago.’

Nathalie’s eyes widened. ‘No,’ she whispered.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Uh, I mean, Mr Agreste, sir,’ she stammered under his scrutinising gaze but swiftly regained her composure. ‘If I may, sir. I know I was the one to suggest Adrien for this, but perhaps you should reconsider. This isn’t good for him. What you’re going to show him will hurt him.’ She hesitated. ‘Will hurt you.’

Nathalie felt a shiver down her spine as Gabriel looked at her with those cold grey eyes of his.

‘I know,’ he said.

She didn’t imagine the glimmer of pain behind his eyes this time.

‘You don’t have to do this,’ she pleaded. ‘You can always…’ she swallowed as she braced herself to say the words she’d always wanted to, but never dared say. ‘You can always move on.’

She held her breath as Gabriel held her gaze. She felt as if they were both standing on thin ice. And Gabriel’s next words, his next step, would determine whether the ice would crack or hold.

Ever so slowly Gabriel shook his head.

‘I’ve come too far. It’s too late to turn back now.’

They both plunged into icy water.

Nathalie’s expression became unreadable as she smothered her emotions.

‘Very well, sir.’

She turned on her heel and walked away to attend to her daily duties.

Gabriel had made his choice. She would do everything in her power to help him.

That was the promise she’d made.

~~~

As soon as Adrien stepped into the classroom, Marinette could tell something was wrong.

Usually Adrien was pretty good at hiding his emotions. But today Marinette could clearly see the cracks.

And she wasn’t the only one to notice.

Nino made a bigger effort than normal to make him smile. Alya tried to involve him more in their conversations. Even Chloe tried to engage with him with more sincerity than normal.

And Adrien smiled. He talked. He laughed. He went through all the motions perfectly. But everyone could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

Marinette looked at him in dismay. Was it what she’d said last night? Was it the thought of being akumatised getting him down? Was it just his father being himself again? Or... Marinette stared at the blond head in front of her, the words “I don't know if I could say no” ringing in her mind, and chewed her pen like the worry gnawing her from the inside out.

She jumped when someone snatched the pen out of her mouth.

‘Girl, you chew that pen any harder and your mouth’s gonna be stained black.’

Marinette slumped forward onto the table and groaned.

‘What’s up with you?’ Alya said, not unkindly.

‘I’m just tired,’ she mumbled into the table. Technically it wasn’t a lie.

‘Come on,’ Alya pulled her up, ‘Let’s go get lunch.’

‘Class is over?’ Marinette jerked upright and realised everyone was packing up around her.

‘Damn girl, you really were out of it!’ Alya laughed but Marinette wasn’t listening. A voice had caught her attention.

Adrien.

‘I just need some time alone, I’ll catch you later, okay Nino?’

Marinette narrowed her eyes. He didn’t look like himself at all. He looked so down.

She suddenly felt alert.

‘Hey, watch my stuff for me,’ she gestured absentmindedly at Alya, ‘I’ll be right back.’

She walked away and out the door, ignoring Alya’s spluttery protests.

She followed Adrien out the classroom, down the stairs, and into the courtyard where it was starting to get rowdy with congregating students.

She watched him as he went over and sat on a bench by himself. She hummed in concern before walking up to him.

‘Hi,’ she said.

He looked at her. ‘Hey.’ He smiled, but it fell flat almost instantly. He glanced away.

Marinette fidgeted a moment before sitting down next to him.

Up close he looked worse than normal. His eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep and his hair had lost its lustrous shine. She bit her lip to hide her unease and followed his lifeless gaze.

Children were running and playing over the schoolyard. Screams, shouts and laughter bounced around. The joyful noise was jarring against the solemn stillness that surrounded Adrien.

Marinette turned to him once more when he started to speak, almost dreamlike, into the stillness.

‘Do you ever feel like your life is out of your control? Like you’re walking down a set path and there’s no way off.’

Marinette smiled sadly but didn’t say anything.

‘I don’t want to be walking down this path that I’m on.’ Pain welled in Adrien’s eyes. ‘I know what’s going to happen. And I don’t know how to avoid it.’ His voice cracked as distress leaked through. ‘I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear any of this,’ he muttered, suddenly aware of his words.

‘It’s okay, I’m here to listen,’ Marinette said softly. ‘That’s what friends are for.’

Adrien looked at her, gratitude lighting up his dull eyes.

But a deep foreboding settled uneasily in Marinette’s gut.

~~~

Adrien had expected his father’s wrath when he returned from school. So it was no surprise when his father called out to him as soon as he stepped through the door. Though this time he was at the bottom of the stairs. Adrien narrowed his eyes as his father walked up to him. He didn’t cringe away; he didn’t flinch as his father wrapped his arms around him and enveloped him in a warm hug. But he made no effort to return the gesture. He stood still and limp in his father’s arms and waited patiently for him to pull back, giving him an empty glare when he did so.

His father rested his hands on Adrien’s shoulders and met his glare with a gentle smile.

‘You wanted to know why I need to protect you,’ he said. Adrien said nothing. ‘There are dangerous people in this world, people who want to hurt you.’ His voice turned deadly cold. ‘People who hurt your mother.’

Adrien frowned ever so slightly as his heart rate increased, but he stayed silent. He didn’t show his confusion and shock. But he couldn’t help but shiver as his father spoke once more.

‘Come with me, Adrien. I have something to show you.’

A deep dread knotted itself in his gut.

Adrien shook his head and tried to take a step back but Nathalie was standing right behind him, looking more severe and blank than usual. Adrien swallowed as she took his bag and he realised he had no choice but to follow his father.

Adrien’s wary footsteps contrasted his father’s confident strides as he led Adrien into his office and up to his mother’s portrait.

Adrien gazed up at her golden face. He had always loved this picture. It was full of light and love and hope and always put him at ease. But not this time. This time he only felt apprehension swirl inside as she stared down at him with her unseeing eyes.

His father held out his hand. Adrien saw a glint of metal as Nathalie placed something in his palm. A key. His father lifted an invisible panel next to the portrait to reveal a small hole. He inserted the key. Adrien’s eyes widened when the portrait - safe and all - swung open to reveal a doorway.

‘Come, Adrien,’ his father said.

‘Father?’ Uncertainty rang clear in Adrien’s voice.

‘I said, come.’ His father’s words were gentle, but there was an air of exhaustion and finality about them. There was no arguing with those cold grey eyes.

Adrien stepped forward into the darkness.

~~~

A spiral stone staircase led them down, down, down; deep into the earth.

They descended in silence.

The air was musty and the stone, old. Adrien feared the secrets they held.

After an age, they reached the bottom and stepped through a stone archway onto a metal walkway. Adrien gasped. The walls and floor fell away as they walked into a formidable chamber. It was nothing like Adrien had ever seen before. The ceiling arched high above and the floor dropped away deep beneath them. Far on the other side, brilliant light shone down onto a magnificent tree Adrien realised was growing from the ground. Its branches merged with the open platform above, forming a floor of lush greenery on its surface. The backdrop to it all was a large circular structure reminiscent of a butterfly.

It was both disturbing and beautiful.

But Adrien could only look about in trepidation. Why did his father have a secret underground cavern? How did his father have a secret underground cavern?

‘Father…’ Adrien tried to speak, but his voice was shaking, ‘I don’t… What is-’

He bit down on his tongue when his father turned and looked at him.

Adrien thought he saw sadness and regret in his father’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was just the strange lighting.

‘What do you know about your mother’s disappearance?’

‘Oh,’ he hadn��t been expecting that. ‘Um, nothing really. Just one day she was there, and the next she wasn’t, I guess.’ His heart clenched. Thinking about that day brought back painful memories. Memories of confusion and outrage and denial. Of screams and tears and grief.

‘What if I told you your mother didn’t disappear.’

Adrien’s head shot up. ‘What?’

‘She didn’t disappear,’ he repeated.

‘H-How do you know?’ Adrien hated how his voice shook. He clenched his fists to stop them trembling too.

‘Because she’s right here.’

Adrien stopped breathing. His gaze darted around.

Where, he started to say, but his father raised a single hand and gestured to the other end of the cavern where, nestled amongst the greenery, glass glinted in the light.

Adrien didn’t realise he was moving down the walkway until the metallic echoes of his footsteps crashed onto his ears.

No. Horror mounted Adrien with each step. No. No! It couldn’t be.

But as he drew closer, the figure in the glass coffin grew clearer.

‘Mum?’ He found himself crying as he stumbled forwards.

‘Mum!’ He picked up speed as tears welled in his eyes and his chest tightened and his breath hitched in his throat.

‘Maman!’ He screamed like he was eight years old again, crying for his mummy after a nightmare as he raced towards that terrible light where his mother lay.

MAMAN!’ He slammed into the coffin.

‘MAMAN!’ Tears streamed down his cheeks

‘MAMAN!’ He screamed and screamed as he clawed at the glass and his heart ripped to pieces and he screamed.

Time lost all meaning as grief and confusion tore itself from him in the form of that piercing scream, crying over and over for his mother who lay indifferent and unmoving under the glass beneath his fingers.

Eventually Adrien found himself on the ground, sobbing at the foot of the coffin.

He became aware of his father standing behind him.

Adrien swallowed and tried to speak.

‘W-What is she doing in here? Is she…is she…’ he couldn’t bring himself to say that terrible word.

‘Yes.’

Adrien wailed and hunched over as sickness and denial stabbed him in the gut.

‘No, no, no, Maman!’ His shoulders shook and tears splashed onto the floor as his heart tore in two.

His father knelt down next to him and wrapped his arms around his son.

Adrien turned into his embrace and sobbed into his father’s chest.

His father murmured words of comfort and reassurance as Adrien cried.

Adrien didn’t take in his words at first, too upset to make sense of anything, but slowly the words penetrated the grief-stricken fog in his mind.

He pulled back and hiccuped as he tried to suppress his sobs. ‘W-What did you s-say?’

‘I said don’t you worry, my son. We’ll bring her back.’

‘H-How?’

Gabriel ran his hands down Adrien’s arms comfortingly before speaking.

‘You know why Hawkmoth wants Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous, don’t you?’

Adrien hesitated and wiped his eyes before nodding.

‘To s-save the one he loved.’

His eyes widened. They flicked from his father, to his mum, and back to his father.

‘Are you in league with Hawkmoth?’ he asked in a horrified whisper.

‘Adrien,’ his father said in his gentle, cold way. Adrien’s stomach twisted as pain and grief filled his father’s eyes.

‘I am Hawkmoth.’

Next Chapter

#miraculous ladybug #ladrien #mlb #ml fanfic #ml fic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #gabriel agreste #ml #angst #a ladrien story #writing #my writing #my post #to save a loved one

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ghostbustermelanieking · 7 years ago

Text

reconsideration

s6 vignette: the beginning, triangle, dreamland, the rain king, tithonus, one son, arcadia, milagro, the unnatural, field trip. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files

summary: Times Mulder and Scully reconsidered the status of their relationship.

note: I realize this is, like, the thinnest premise ever, but season 6 UST is some of the best UST. This story most directly links up to Flights and Renegade (and leads into Auld Acquaintance), but it does contain part of the Tithonus scene from The Fountain. (It is not necessary to read any of these works to understand this story, as they can all technically stand alone.)

She’s been wondering about the kiss.

In the days between their mad escape from Antarctica and their flight back to DC from Australia, she’d been considering the encounter in the hallway. The things she said, the things he said. How close they came to kissing. Some culmination five years deep. The sudden pain in her neck, the way she’d dodged it even though she hadn’t meant to. And then everything that had happened after, blurring together into a horrifying montage. The paramedics, the gunshot. The pain and the cold, the freezing cold. Mulder’s mouth on hers, breathing life into her. He came to Antarctica for her. Antarctica. To the ends of the fucking earth.

Scully is having some trouble wrapping her head around it all, but that doesn’t change what happened. That he saved her, that he said she saved him, made him a whole person. That he tried to kiss her—even if it was only to make her stay, he still wanted to kiss her. Wants to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him, she has realized. She wants to kiss him back.

She hugs him in the hospital when he gives her the cross back and she leans against his shoulder in the airport like it’s effortless. She faces down the Office of Professional Review back in DC for him, for their X-Files. She meets him at the reflecting pool, tries to reassure him that they can bring down the people who did this, and he tries to push her away in return. He tells her that she was right to want to leave, that he is not going to watch her die. Almost the opposite of what he said in the hallway. He tried to make her stay because he cares about her, and now he is pushing her away because he cares about her. Because he is scared.

She doesn’t know how she would’ve reacted if he’d said these things when she wanted to quit, but she knows how she will react now. He pushes and she pushes back. He was right before, about wanting to quit with a clear conscience, but she can’t do that, there’s too much left to fight for. She takes his hand and repeats his earlier words back to him: “If I quit now, they win.” It’s some sort of reassurance—reassuring him that she isn’t leaving, or maybe reassuring herself that she wouldn’t have left in the first place. She squeezes his hand. She thinks that maybe something can happen between them now. She thinks maybe it’s time.

And then everything goes to hell.

She can’t find what Mulder wants her to find, what he wanted to show OPR. Or rather, what she finds is not what he wanted to hear. They really should have discussed everything before the meeting itself. Mulder is clearly upset with her, and things only escalate when they don’t get the X-Files back. Instead, Jeffrey Spender and Diana Fowley are assigned to it. Scully doesn’t even have time to process it, to maybe have a bit of contempt for the woman who is apparently Mulder’s ex swooping in and taking their jobs from them, because Mulder is too busy feeling betrayed himself. Skinner has led him to a file, some attack in Arizona, and by some paradox, he manages to convince her to go. She doesn’t know what she’s thinking—maybe that they can find more proof, more reason to go back on the X-Files. But Mulder’s theories at the crime scene don’t make sense, even if the evidence doesn’t fit with the crime report.

He is upset with her, at the scene, angry that she is doing exactly what he said has kept him honest, has saved him, and she doesn’t understand it. She tries to understand, takes his hand and repeats his earlier words back to him. “You told me that my science kept you honest. That it made you question your assumptions. That by it, I’d made you a whole person,” she says, trying to remind him. What he’d said was why she’d stayed. “If I change now… it wouldn’t be right, or honest.”

He doesn’t listen. He waxes some poetic bullshit about extraterrestrial life, says, “I’m sorry, Scully, but this time your science is wrong,” before he walks away from her, leaving her blinking in astonishment. Maybe a little hurt. She stayed because he said he needed her. But this is one of the times that she thinks he would like it better if she just wasn’t here to debunk his theories. In this brief moment of chest-stinging hurt, everything Mulder said in that hallway feels like a taunt.

It gets worse. It actually gets worse. They find Gibson half-dead in their car. She convinces Mulder that they need to protect him, but the next thing she knows, Diana Fowley is popping up and dragging Mulder off to chase some lead, leaving her behind to protect the boy. Which she can’t do, apparently; Gibson disappears from the hospital she takes him to. Supposedly, he shows up at wherever Mulder and Fowley went off to, locked in a room with what Mulder claims killed those people in Arizona. He doesn’t reappear.

After it’s all over, Mulder is still unwilling to forgive and forget. He says some biting things that cut her to the core, credits Fowley over her, makes some allusions to Diana not refusing to believe things because of science.

Scully clenches her jaw and plunges on, although she’s not entirely sure why. She reminds him that she doesn’t doubt him, that it comes down to a matter of trust. She asks him to trust her. He has said before that she is the only one he trusts. Maybe she wants that faith back. Maybe she wants him to acknowledge how much he claims to need her. One in five billion, making him a whole person. What else is she supposed to think?

If he is willing to forget what happened in that hallway, then she can forget it, too.

ii.

He is in love with Dana Scully, and he wants to tell her how he feels.

He might be an official time traveler who’s high off his ass on painkillers, but goddamnit, he is in love with her. He has been in love with her for months, years. He wanted to tell her over the summer but he was scared; he thought that if he pushed her away, she would leave and be safe from the X-Files forever. And then he’d been an asshole to her, really fucked it up. But it’s been good since then. Good. They do background checks and manure checks, drive the country like they always have and Mulder books them haunted hotels, passes her glossy brochures over the center console of the car that announce urban legends he can sometimes convince her to chase off hours. They eat together in diners, eat lunch in the break room or go out sometimes in a cliquish way that makes the other bullpen agents whisper. They see each other on the weekend, sometimes, when Mulder isn’t chasing ghosts or ghouls. They spent Halloween looking for demons in a cornfield, and Scully had nearly bent in half laughing at him when it turned out to be kids in crudely-made masks. God, he loves her. He loves her and he wants to tell her.

He can find her anywhere, he proved that today. He found her in 1939. She was beautiful in that wine-colored dress, her hair all curled and her eyes icy the way they get when she is absolutely done with his nonsense. It wasn’t really her, but she was brave and confident and faced down Nazis like it was nothing. She saved the world and he kissed her because he thought he’d never see her again. He deserved that punch. But he is in love with his partner—his partner who is right here beside him. He loves her and he wants to tell her.

“Hey, Scully?” he says as she starts to walk away, rising up on one elbow.

She comes back, standing close so that they are almost nose to nose. “Yes?” she says, very serious.

He looks deeply into her eyes, trying to tell her everything he wants to tell her without even having to speak. When she’s this close, he could kiss her again. Or for the first time. “I love you,” he says, very sincere. He wants her to know.

She rolls her eyes, mutters, “Oh, brother,” and stalks off. And that is the end of that.

Still, he isn’t sorry that he told her. The side of his face stings when he puts it down on the pillow, from where 1939 Scully socked him, and he smiles dopily to himself. She knows, and he will tell her as many times as it takes to make her understand how he feels. How much he cares about her.

He grins at the ceiling. He is in love with his partner. He is in love.

iii.

They fly to Nevada against orders, to investigate some lead an informant gave Mulder. The airport is a couple hours out from their destination, so they rent a car and drive together into the desert. In Area 51, the only thing that is waiting for them is a slew of Men in Black or whatever, who stop them in the middle of the road. There is a confrontation. A light passes over them, and Scully is left blinking, her mind foggy. How much time has passed? She is holding Mulder’s hand.

“Come on, Mulder,” she says, unnerved. “Let’s go.”

—

They don’t talk a lot as they drive away, stirring up red dust behind them. Scully rests her head on the window pane, his fingers tapping the dashboard. Mulder is quiet, his jaw working back and forth as he stares out at the road ahead. “What happened out there, Scully?” he asks finally.

It was a brief, meaningless encounter, completely unmemorable, but it feels like something more and she can’t explain it. She shrugs. “We got stopped. Found nothing,” she says. “What else is new?”

Mulder nods, chewing his lower lip. They pass a diner, the lights startlingly blue. “You hungry?” he offers.

The diner is packed to the brim, something Scully isn’t entirely used to; they usually frequent half-empty shitty places in the middle of the night. There is a family sitting across from them, three kids jammed in one booth, shoving at each other. Scully remembers that she said something about raising families, having something approaching a normal life, on the drive up. It seems like something she said days ago for some reason; she blinks in sleepy confusion. Mulder smudges fingerprints on the glossy menu, waving it at her. He orders her drink for her, exactly the way she likes it. She thinks that sometimes they may be able to read each other’s minds.

“Sorry I dragged you out here for nothing, Scully,” Mulder says after the waiter takes their meal orders and leaves.

Scully pokes at the sugar holder. A baby squeals somewhere across the diner, a couple argues at the counter. The Nevada sky has so much more stars than back in DC. “That’s okay,” she says, more agreeable than she would’ve expected of herself. “Better than background checks.”

Mulder smiles, his teeth too white under the fluorescent lights. She has some faint memory of saying goodbye to him, of sunflower seeds slipping into her palm and through her fingers, clammy from Mulder’s hand, but she has no idea where it came from, because she knows that never happen. Maybe it’s because Mulder has been eating them since the airport. She wonders if his fingers would taste like salt, and then blushes on instinct.

“It’s too bad that lead never panned out, though,” says Mulder, a little regretful, maybe a little bitter, leaving starburst fingerprints in the condensation on the side of his glass. “This was a waste of time.” He snorts out a bitter laugh. “An entire day’s waste of time.”

Scully shrugs, her coat loose around her shoulders. She is unusually jovial, happy to be with him. “It’s like you said, Mulder. This is a normal life.”

Mulder smiles again, almost involuntary. She smiles, too. She steals fries off of his plate when their food comes and he makes a gremlin face at her and she giggles. She has an odd feeling of longing that she can’t explain, and she doesn’t bother to try. They’re in a diner in Nevada, off the clock. Who the hell cares?

Mulder takes a shift driving after they eat, and Scully curls into a ball in her seat and falls asleep. She has some strange dream of standing opposite Mulder in the desert. There are seeds, like the one in that strange non-memory in the diner, and she tells him, I’d kiss you if you weren’t so damn ugly. Well, she notes when she wakes up, the sentiment isn’t entirely off. But still. What the hell is that about?

iv.

They’ve slept in the same bed before, but never quite like this.

Scully can tick off every time they’ve shared a bed. The awkward time in the first year of their partnership where she’d set a token pillow between them and slept on the edge of the mattress (but Mulder sprawls in his sleep, so he’d ended up drooling on her shoulder in the morning, the pillow stuck under his belly). The case in ‘96 where her feet had snuck over on his side every single night. The times she’d fallen asleep in Mulder’s hotel room or he’d fallen asleep in hers. But every time had been different then this somehow, she thinks.

She’d woken up this morning with Mulder’s face half-buried in her neck, an arm thrown over her ribcage, his fingers hot against her side where her shirt had ridden up. His stubble rubbing her neck as he muttered things in his sleep. She had counted to ten in her head. Twenty. And rolled away. His hand had slid over her stomach in a long trail; he snorted and buried his face in the pillow. Scully had shivered, curling into herself on the edge of the bed. And now they are in bed again. He is asleep and she is not and he’s jammed up against her in bed, nose against her upper arm and knees pressing into her leg. Their fingers tangled together on the mattress. Scully stares at the ceiling, ignoring the tickling sensation of Mulder’s breath against her skin. Or trying to.

Sheila was surprised that she isn’t with Mulder. Which apparently the entire town of Kroner can join her in. The missus. Boyfriend. Holman had bid Mulder farewell by saying, “You should try it sometime,” looking at the two of them like he expected something out of them. She supposes her big “relationships-spurning-from-friendship” speech to Sheila didn’t help their Kroner reputation. She doesn’t know why she cares.

Mulder is too warm, jammed up against her with his raspy breathing and the blankets tangled around them. She should move away. She doesn’t know why she doesn’t move away. She told herself that she wasn’t going to do this last summer, after everything with Diana Fowley, after he tried to kiss her and never brought it up. For a little while last fall, in Nevada, she thought she might, but she’d relegated herself, insisted that they are friends and friends only. And despite whatever lover’s pacts some ghosts tried to force them into, despite her falling asleep on his couch at six a.m. on Christmas morning, she has been able to push back the thoughts in her mind of taking their relationship a step further. But now…

Mulder mumbles something in his sleep—something that sounds like the lyrics to Islands in the Stream, which played on repeat at the reunion when one of the speakers glitched—and presses his nose harder against her shoulder. Scully shivers. We are just friends, she tells herself sternly. He’s my best friend. That’s it. That’s all. But Mulder tugs at her hand in his sleep, rolling over so that he lands almost on top of her, and she almost loses her resolve, shivers. She didn’t know it was so cold in Kansas. Or that her partner is a furnace. She shifts in her sleep, cold feet brushing against his feet and trying to wiggle out from under him a bit. Mulder stirs, lifting his head from her shoulder and blinking groggily. “Scully?” he mutters, tugging at her hand before he realizes that he’s holding it and lets it drop. “Oh, jeez, I’m on top of you,” he says, scooting backwards so he’s on the other side of the mattress. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly. She hasn’t moved.

Mulder flops over on his stomach, still half-asleep. “We’ll be home tomorrow,” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Yeah,” says Scully. His hair is sticking up on one side; she resists the urge to pet it down. She turns on her side and closes her eyes, determined to get some sleep tonight. But her words to Sheila are still bouncing around in her head. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before, she’d said. And the person who was just a friend is… suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.

She wakes up in the morning with her face pressed up against Mulder’s shoulder. She tells herself sternly that it means nothing. She knows she is lying.

When she wakes up in the hospital, Mulder is there. He’s leaning over her hospital bed with his hands in his head. He looks tired, haggard, as if he’s been there for days. Scully has a groggy, overwhelming affection for him, and though she cannot speak, she reaches for him. He looks up, sees her hand moving, and his entire face lights up. “Scully,” he says, engulfing her hand in both of his. “You’re awake.”

She looks up at him, tiredly tries to tell him everything that she is thinking with only her eyes.

Mulder laughs a little, squeezing her fingers. He is practically grinning with relief. “I-I’ll go get your doctor,” he says, standing from his spot next to the bed. Before he puts her hand down, he leans over and kisses her knuckles, and she feels it from head to toe. “You’re gonna be okay,” he says before he leaves. Scully smiles a little to herself. She can’t believe he’s here.

Mulder is there when she wakes up and Mulder continues to be there, through every awkward moment with her mother and brother (both of whom Scully is incredibly relieved to see), through every talk with the doctor, through nearly every moment Scully is conscious for the next two days. She is immensely grateful. She’d missed him. She loves him, she thinks rebelliously to herself one day. She loves him and is so incredibly happy to still be here to tell him so. All those doubts flickering in her mind, leftover from last summer, are gone now. She is ready.

There is a brief moment where she is uncertain, wondering whether or not Fellig was right about immortality, right about love not lasting forever, but she talks herself out of it. She is being ridiculous. People don’t live forever. Life is too short, actually, and she has plenty of proof of that right before her.

Mulder thumb-wrestles her over the blankets tucked around her body, kisses her cheek in farewell every time he leaves. He flies back down to DC with her when she is finally discharged, cracking peanuts between his teeth like makeshift sunflower seeds and trying to distract her with in-flight movies. He visits her frequently in the evenings while she is on medical leave, calls in the middle of the day to complain about Kersh and background checks and the embarrassment of being stuck in the bullpen. He is her best friend and she is in love with him; there was more truth to the things she told Sheila than she thought. She keeps looking for moments to tell him, but keeps coming up short. She doesn’t know how to say it. (They’re both awful at expressing their feelings; is she just supposed to sit him down and say, “Mulder, almost dying has made me realize I’m in love with you?” What about, “So, about that one time you almost kissed me and we never talked about it…?” All utterly ridiculous.) But the time will come. She is confident that the time will come. These things have a way of happening with them.

Later, after the entire ordeal at El Rico Air Force Base, she will attribute the entire thing to what Fellig told her in his apartment. Fear of eternity staring her in the face, loneliness. Vulnerability after almost dying. But she cannot really be in love with him, she tells herself. She cannot.

vi.

He can’t explain why trusting Diana is so important to him.

He is not in love with her. Not anymore. And when he was, it was never as house-on-fire fierce as the way he cares for Scully. But something in him cannot let go of their relationship. Their years together. She remains the only woman he has ever proposed to. The longest relationship he’s ever had. She was there when he discovered the files. He cannot let that go, for some reason. He just can’t.

He doesn’t know why he is so stingingly hurt when Scully is sharp to her in quarantine, because he is done with her romantically and has been for years. She broke his heart. But something in his stomach curdles in annoyance when Scully keeps snapping at her, acts like she’s the enemy. He chides her a little when she gets petty towards Diana, because a part of him is protesting, She isn’t working against me, Scully. She knows how important this is. She left me because the work is important. And he doesn’t know that Scully would go that far for him, for the work. It’s a horrible comparison to make, but it’s true.

The Gunmen turn against her, too. Scully calls him to their apartment, just so she can present all the reasons why Diana is untrustworthy, and Mulder’s annoyance continues to grow. You wouldn’t be saying this if you knew everything she’s done for me, he wants to say to her. What she meant to me, once.

He tells her she is reaching. He tells her she has given him no reason not to trust Diana. He tells her that she is making things personal, and he senses he has gone too far. It’s been personal since Day One, with them. He’d like to take it back almost as soon as he says it, but Scully storms out and Mulder is too annoyed with her to follow her. But Frohike’s glare and the way Byers and Langly avoid his eyes speak volumes.

Embarrassed and maybe a little guilty, he slinks off to find out the truth about Diana, just to prove that he is right. He finds the smoker at her apartment, who offers him a way out. A way to save himself from what’s coming. Himself, he thinks, and Scully, and maybe even Diana. If they can really avoid death on Earth, he and Scully, then it would be wrong to leave behind the woman who is partially the reason he has gotten this far.

Diana comes home and reaffirms her loyalty to him. He tells her how they need to survive and she kisses him. It is a brief kiss, and his mind is buzzing too much to process it all, but he wraps his arms around her on instinct.

—

After it’s all over, he’s overwhelmed with guilt.

He doesn’t go to the air force base because he is chasing a lead with Scully, and he is relieved that they don’t because the entire thing goes up in flames. Diana doesn’t reappear in the immediate days after. Jeffrey Spender gets them back on the X-Files, and then his blood is found staining their office. Scully won’t return his calls.

The guilt is thick in his stomach over the possibility of Diana’s death, the encounter in her apartment. What he perceived as a betrayal of Scully. They may not be together, but he is in love with her. He told her he loves her and he meant it with everything in him. And now, and now. He has hurt her to the point of nearly no communication between them. He has kissed another woman he is not in love with. He has ruined it all.

Diana calls a few days after the entire ordeal, reassuring him that she is alive, and he is relieved. Truly relieved. Maybe some feelings do linger for her, but not in the sense of wanting to actually be with her. It’s mostly nostalgia from his old relationship, mostly loyalty. He’s happy she’s alive. But he’s in love with Scully and he’s pushed her too far away.

He wishes he knew how to make this right.

vii.

She almost resigns after it’s all over.

She gets drunk one night, furious and raving against Mulder, and types up a resignation letter, prints it out and even signs it. She leaves it on the dinner table, determined to give it to Skinner in the morning. She is done with the FBI, the way they’ve scorned her and thrown her out. She is done with the X-Files, tired of the way they beat her up and leave her frustrated and embarrassed when she is proven wrong. She is done with Mulder.

In the morning, she chickens out. It seems ridiculous in the daylight, with the sun shining unevenly across her pillow and her pounding hangover headache. She did hang on this long to resign. Personal interest is all she has, and she can’t give up for her sister or her daughter or herself. And even Mulder. She still cares for Mulder by instinct, knee-jerk reaction.

But there is not going to be a relationship between them now. Not a chance.

In the process of rebuilding their office, reorganizing everything, Scully works quietly, talks as little as possible. The resignation letter stays on her table, like a glaring spotlight. Reminding her of the way she felt when she thought she was leaving. She goes back and forth on it a few times in the weeks following El Rico. She almost changes her mind the day after Diana drops by the office to congratulate Mulder on getting the X-Files back. Mulder almost dies twice. The second time, she is haunted by nightmares of him dying in her arms, gunshot wound to the chest. It breaks her. She can’t resign, she can’t leave him anymore than she could last summer. She has tried, and it doesn’t work. She has not hung on this long, through dead family members and abductions and cancer, to quit because Mulder hurt her feelings. She cares about him, and it is more than a knee-jerk reaction. She isn’t going to resign. She throws the letter out.

But her stance on a relationship between them stays the same. He is her partner, her friend, but nothing more.

xiii.

The Petries has a nice ring to it. Mulder picked the name because of all the Dick Van Dyke Show reruns they’d watched together while Scully was recovering from her gunshot wound. Scully rolled her eyes and smiled a little at the floor when he told her, but sobered up quick. Told him that they had to pronounce it like the dish.

There has been a definite distance between them lately. A distance that only comes down after one of them almost dies. He wishes he knew how to fix this.

Being able to call Scully his wife, though. Being able to put his arm around her and ham it up in front of all the citizens of Arcadia Falls. He kind of likes it—which is unexpected, because he never associated Scully and marriage in his mind until now. He hasn’t been very keen on marriage ever since Diana mailed his ring back, broke off their engagement that had crumbled to nothing at that point. But he could get used to this, coexisting with Scully in a house, their house, sharing a bedroom and eating dinner together. (Maybe without the dorky planned community, though.)

They end up cooking dinner together because neither of them can agree on who should be the one to cook. They’re both terrible at it. Scully rolls up the sleeves of her cute little soccer mom sweater and huffs angrily when she burns the chicken. Mulder abandons the potatoes and pulls out one of the salad kits that Scully had insisted the Bureau buy them. (They’d made a grocery list together, for God’s sake; he loves this case.)

“You liking married life, Scully?” he asks her at the dinner table, after they manage to construct a decent salad.

She snorts a little, stabbing lettuce with her fork. The windows are open, to air out the kitchen from where the chicken was burned, and they are speaking quietly in an attempt not to blow their cover. “Truly blissful, Mulder,” she says dryly. “The honeymoon never ends.”

Mulder chuckles, a little awkwardly, looking down at his plate. “Did you ever daydream about your wedding as a kid, Scully?” he asks.

“Oh, sure, when I was younger.” She drums her finger against the table. “But the daydreams kind of faded in high school, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” says Mulder knowingly.

Scully is still staring at her plate. “I thought I’d get married in my twenties, actually,” she says in a stilted rush, almost like she had to talk herself into saying it.

Mulder’s fork drops from his hand; he was not expecting that. “Really?” he asks in a neutral tone. “What happened?”

Scully shrugs. “I joined the FBI. Broke it off when I saw the full implications of the relationship. I was young, and I thought I was in love. But it would have been a mistake.”

He’d never known that about her. He nods. Scully scrapes her fork through the salad dressing, lifts her chin to meet his eyes. “What about you, Mulder?” she says, and her voice is very serious, like she understands what the answer will be. “Any previous run-ins with marriage?”

He swallows uncertainly. “Diana and I were engaged,” he says carefully. “She broke it off.”

Scully nods, her face neutral. She says just as carefully, “She must have meant a lot to you.”

“She did,” Mulder says. “At one point, she did.”

She holds his gaze for a moment before looking away. Mulder lifts a glass of water to his mouth and gulps a mouthful. It’s too cool sliding down his throat.

He wants to fix this more than anything. He wants Scully to understand why he did what he did, what she means to him. He just wishes he knew how.

ix.

Agent Scully is already in love, Padgett had said, looking straight at him as if he was supposed to have any idea at all what he was talking about. Who Scully could be in love with. If Padgett is even right at all, if he even knows her. Mulder knows that he doesn’t, that he couldn’t possibly know anything about her.

It is stupid to be jealous of him, this creepy little man who has been stalking her for years now. He is not jealous as much as he is furious, wants to shout at him, tear him apart for what he has done to Scully. Padgett does not know her, not the way he does. He is presumptuous, a little voyeuristic shit who thinks he knows and loves a woman because he’s followed her around for a while. He doesn’t know Scully and he is likely a murderer and Mulder wants him gone, wants to make sure he never gets near Scully again.

Agent Scully is already in love. It can’t be true, because Padgett does not know her. Not like he does, not at all. And Mulder doesn’t know who it is that she could possibly be in love with. How he could have missed it. Or if it’s the yearning possibility, the off chance that she might be in love with him…

No. Padgett does not know her. He is lying, playing some new angle. Mulder throws himself into the case, into trying to catch Padgett. It isn’t true, he tells himself. Scully isn’t in love with him. Believing that weasel is the most egotistical thing he could do.

It isn’t until Scully is clinging to him as she sobs hysterically, blood smeared up and down her front, fingers digging desperately into his shoulders, that he considers that it might be true.

His breath on the back of her neck, his nose in her hair, and his arms wrapped all the way around her as they move together, the bat whooshing through the air. Scully giggles helplessly, more delighted than she’s been in months. She feels like she’s in high school again, her heart racing to the point where she’s sure Mulder can hear how nervous she is. How excited.

It’s spring, not very cold at all, but Mulder’s arms are warm around her, the length of her spine pressed to his chest and stomach. Her shoes that are not at all suited for baseball scuff the red dirt. Her feet almost slip out from under her with one swing of the bat, and Mulder’s arms tighten around her, lifting her almost off of her feet as he tries to keep her from falling. Scully belly-laughs, leaning her head back as the bat wavers in her hands. Mulder stumbles backwards under her weight, lowering her to the ground. “I got you,” he huffs, exhausted from holding her up.

Scully lets the bat droop, tapping the dirty ground with its edge. “Yeah,” she says, breathless. She thinks of the latest, unhappy time he had his arms around her like this, while she fell apart on his floor. She thinks of the first moment of arriving at the park, realizing what he meant when he’d said, “Get over here, Scully.” The shivery feeling she’d gotten when he pressed up against her. His lips brush the back of her neck—whether it is on accident or on purpose, she can’t tell, but it makes her think his mouth against hers. The possibilities.

She smiles, leaning back into his chest. “Yeah, you got me.”

xi.

Things are better between them, he thinks. They have been, they are. Less steely silences, less tense conversations. Scully smiles at him now, even bursts into laughter on occasion the way she did on that one golden Saturday. “We should work on the weekend more often,” he’d said the Monday after, a little suggestively, and Scully had smirked back at him just as suggestively. Surprised him so much it almost bowled him over. He loves it.

Things are better between them, their partnership starting to get back to normal, and Mulder is starting to consider the possibility of their friendship finally starting to shift into new territory. (Hey, it only took them a year.) He doesn’t know when or if it will ever happen (although the suggestiveness between them both would suggest that it will), but either way, he’s just grateful to have Scully back. Her friendship, her partnership.

They fuck it up, of course. There is a case in North Carolina, and he presents his theory of UFOs, and she dismisses it, maybe even jokes a little bit about it. And it annoys him, for some reason. “Sounds like crap when you say it,” he says, working his jaw back and forth, wondering why she can never believe him, just once. “I’m just wondering if there’s a connection, Scully,” he adds, defending the theory. “I mean, the conditions of these bodies are reminiscent of certain southwestern cattle mutilations. Those are cases where there’s no physical evidence and they’ve long been associated with UFO activity.”

She replies like she doesn’t know him at all, “Mulder, can’t you just for once, just… for the novelty of it come up with the simplest explanation, the most logical one, instead of automatically jumping to UFOs or Bigfoot or…?”

Irritated, he stands and says, “Scully, in six years, how… how often have I been wrong?” She scoffs. He says, “No, seriously. I mean, every time I bring you a case we go through this perfunctory dance. You tell me I’m not being scientifically rigorous and that I’m off my nut, and then in the end who turns out to be right like 98.9% of the time?” She looks a little hurt now. She says nothing. “I just think I’ve… earned the benefit of the doubt here,” he says, and walks away before either of them can say anything else, because he doesn’t know why this is bothering him this much. He doesn’t know what else he expected.

— As difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over, he’d said in that hallway. Maybe it’s stupid to keep referencing back to something he said a year ago, something he said to manipulate her into staying. But the sincerely behind it had felt real. Everything that has happened between them lately has felt sincere. And once again, Scully doesn’t know what to think

xii.

He knows it isn’t real as soon as she admits that she is wrong. She knows it isn’t real when everyone tells her she is right, again and again. She never really believed she’d lost him anyway.

Their minds meld together through the mushroom hallucinatory haze. They come together, just like always. That is what they do.

Skinner pulls them out of the ground and puts them in the ambulance together. They reach for each other at the same time, Scully searching blindly. She opens her eyes to look at him when he takes her hand. She doesn’t take her eyes off him. They keep looking at each other until they’re unloaded at the hospital.

She misses him at the hospital, through the haze of drugs and pain. She sleeps on and off for a few days, bandages scratchy against her skin, dreams strange and vivid. She’s cold. She is tired of doubting this—their partnership, how well they work together, whether or not they can never be in a relationship. The only reason they survived was because they’d realized what was happening. That something was wrong. The way that they balance each other out, it’s unmistakable. She misses him.

A few nights after the whole ordeal is over with, she slips out of bed and pads down the hall to his room. He’s awake, staring out the window absently when she steps inside. He turns towards her, startled, and his eyes soften at the sight of her. “You okay?” he rasps.

She nods, stepping closer to the bed. “Couldn’t sleep,” she rasps.

He scoots closer to the inside of the bed, shoulder pressed to the wall. She climbs in beside him, their arms pressed together. He tucks the blankets around them both, brushes some hair off of her face before settling back against the pillow. She takes his hand.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he rasps.

She shakes her head, intending to tell him to save his voice, but he keeps going. “I shouldn’t have… acted like you were being unreasonable. You… I need you. I need your science, and I need you.”

He squeezes her fingers. She closes her eyes, snuggling into the blankets, reminds herself that he is not dead. She is tired of doubting, of lying to herself. They’re both high off their asses on painkillers, but this time, she believes him. “I need you, too,” she whispers, letting her head fall on his shoulder. “I do. I do.”

He kisses the top of her head. She hums raspily, letting her eyes slip closed.She does need him, she knows now. They need each other.

#xf fanfic #i wrote this #xf rewatch

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

🌀 Storm Coming (A SKET Dance Fanfic) Chapter 1: Eye of the Storm

📑 Table of Contents

Pairing: First Person x Tsubaki ☁

World: SKET Dance ☁

WARNING: This series explores anxiety, depression, self-harm and thoughts of suicide. Please read at your own risk.

━━━━━━༻ 🌀 ༺━━━━━━

The rain pelted the glass as it fell from the dark sky. Every few minutes, thunder would roar loud enough to shake the windows, making the dog bark his head off as if he had never heard thunder before. Every now and then, the clouds would break, showing off a velvet black sky.

I stared out the window, my chin propped up in the palm of my hand. I’m not sure why, but my anxiety has been going nuts all day. Something felt off, like something bad was going to happen. I honestly didn’t put much weight on that feeling, though, because it felt like that nearly every day of my life. Every day felt terrifying and I could only wonder if that would be the day I finally die.

“Samantha! Come here for a minute!” Mom shouted from down the hall.

With a sigh, I pushed away from the window and headed for her bedroom. She was sitting at her vanity table, removing the makeup from her face. She glanced at me in the mirror before waving with her hand. I set on the side of her bed. Chico, her beloved pit bull, was sprawled out on the bed, ears perked up as she stared at the window. It was like she was daring the thunder to come again. I’m ninety percent sure mom loves that damn dog more than she ever has me.

She spoils the damn thing, but what gets me the most is that she always talks softly and kindly to the dog, but when she talks to me, it’s snippy like she’s annoyed at the thought of just speaking to me.

“I wanted to talk to you,”

“I kinda figured that,” I muttered, absentmindedly playing with the loose string on my jeans.

“Don’t be a smartass,” she glared at me over her shoulder before turning back to the mirror.

My mom was a beautiful woman, with wavy blonde hair that flowed to her shoulders and fierce hazel eyes. She stood at five-feet-four and she was like a bottle of coke than mentos had been shoved into. She couldn’t stand people looking down on her and refused to be walked on. She always had something to say about people and I was honestly surprised she hadn’t been in a serious fight.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and it hasn’t been an easy decision for me to make, but I’ve made up my mind.”

My brow furrowed as my heart started to race in my chest. What is she talking about? A million thoughts entered my mind at once, each worse than the last. “Um, okay?”

“All you do is lay around watching videos and playing video games. You’ve already dropped out of school.” She scoffed, running a cloth over her cheek. “You can’t hold a job, either. I wake up, spend twelve hours at work, come home and feed Chico, get a couple hours of sleep and then go to my second job. You could help out around the house you know.”

I bit my tongue, body tensing. I wanted to say something so bad, but she never listened to what I had to say. It would only cause a pointless argument and god knows we have enough of those.

“You need a serious wake-up call, Samantha.” Mom turned around on the stool to face me. “I’ve decided that you’re going to go live with your father.”

“I… I’m sorry, what?” I could feel my anxiety rising, clawing at my insides like a hungry tiger.

She scowled. “I said, you’re going to go live with your father. He lives in Japan, so you should be happy, right? You like that Aneyem stuff.”

“Why?” I breathed out. My body was starting to shake like I was standing out in the cold, but the house was warm.

She gave you an annoyed look. “What do you want from me, Samantha? You dropped out of school and refuse to go back to get your diploma – ”

“I didn’t refuse, I just – ”

She cut me off, standing up to pull out her nightclothes. “All you do is sit around playing games and watching that weird-ass Aneyem all day – ”

“I do more than just – ”

“You won’t even try to get a job!”

“I did try, they said – ”

“I’m honestly tired of dealing with you, Samantha. I just can’t do it anymore.” She huffed, putting her hands on her hips as she turned to look at you.

“So you’re just going to get rid of me?” I asked, softly, feeling tears pricking my eyes. This had to be a nightmare… right? I’m going to wake up soon, I have to…

“Don’t be dramatic, I’m not getting rid of you. I’m just – ”

“Sending me off to another country to live with a man I didn’t even know existed!” I cried, unable to hold back the tears. “You lied to me!”

“When did I lie?”

“You said you didn’t know who my father was!”

“Did I?” she turned her back to me, a sure sign that she was lying. “I didn’t remember at the time, probably. Either way, he’s your father, not a stranger.”

“How can you be okay with this?” I asked in disbelief, trying to ignore the cold that was creeping up on my chest. I was close to a panic attack, I could feel it creeping at the back of my mind, lurking and waiting to pounce.

“Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy,” She huffed. “This isn’t nearly as bad as you’re trying to make it out to be.”

I scoffed, starting to feel angry at her words. “If you couldn’t deal with me then you shouldn’t have had me! I never asked to be born! I never asked to have this – this disorder! It’s not fair!”

“Samantha Rain!”

I fled the room, slamming the door behind me as hard as I could. I did the same to my own door, the wall shaking from the force. I barely made it to my bed before I broke down, tears streaming down my face. My chest was tight and it felt like my insides had just been shoved into a freezer. My heart hammered against my chest as if pleading to be set free. I could feel the prickling at the back of my skull – it felt like the grim reaper was leaning over my shoulder, his bony hand on my shoulder as he laughed in my ear.

I felt like I was going to die and I was terrified.

Why is this happening? Am I really such a bad child?

I thought about her words and the responses she refused to let me offer. I regret dropping out of school, but it’s not like she stopped me from doing so. Back then, I didn’t know what anxiety was or how it could affect someone. I thought I just didn’t fit in. A while it’s true that most of my time is spent with video games and anime because that’s what occupies my mind and stops the panic, I do try to help out as best as I can.

The thing is – mom is a perfectionist. No matter what I do, it’s not good enough for her standards. Whenever I do help out around the house, she just goes behind me complaining and redoing it the way she wants it. Eventually, I stopped trying. What’s the point if it’s never enough?

As soon as I turned fourteen, I got a job with my mom working at the local grocery store. I did my best, but the manager hated me because he didn’t think I could do the job properly because I was a girl. He would always pick on me and give me an attitude despite doing the best I could, but… ninety percent of that job I spent in the bathroom trying not to have a panic attack. It wasn’t my fault…

I tried again when I was fifteen, snagging a job at a clothing store. I was originally on the register, but I couldn’t remember how to work it and then I started to panic. I broke down within twenty minutes of my first day on the job. The manager was kind and understanding, and she moved me to the pricing team instead. It was hard, and I spent a lot of time in the bathroom, which I got scolded for, but I forced myself to endure.

The job was seasonal, though, and even though my other manager promised to keep me on, they stopped giving me hours until, finally, I got a letter saying I had been let go. It was around this time that I got diagnosed with an anxiety disorder.

It was like a puzzle. I had all of these pieces but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get them to fit together, but then by some struck of luck, they all fell into place. Everything made sense – not fitting in, freaking out around people, breaking down, my mind going blank, and most importantly, feeling like I was going to die on a daily basis.

The thought of leaving the sanctity of the home I had lived my whole life scared me. The thought of moving in with a man I’ve never met scared me. I’ve spent seventeen years with my mother and I’m still not completely comfortable talking to her, how the hell am I supposed to survive with this man?

Just like mom, he’s going to take me in and realize how much of a loser I am, then he’s going to throw me away too. Will he send me back to mom? Would she even let me come back? Would this be the straw that broke the camels back and she finally decides to just kick me out? What the hell am I going to do?

I stared at the window through blurry eyes. Normally, the rain made me really happy and calmed me down. It was always so peaceful and I loved sitting outside during the rain, reading whatever book I had on hand at the time. But now… now it seemed like a death sentence.

Why do I have to be this way? Why do I have to be such a burden, such a useless child? Why couldn’t I just be normal…

I cried myself to sleep that night, dreaming of being lost and unable to find my mom.

━━━━━━༻ 🌀 ༺━━━━━━

Over the next week, I had done my best to try and get mom to reconsider her choice, but she wouldn’t budge. I tried bargaining, promising to stop playing so many games and to try harder around the house. I even promised to try and find another job, but her mind was made up and it wouldn’t be changed.

I sat in the airport, my leg bouncing rapidly. I held open a manga, but I found myself re-reading the same page a dozen times and still not knowing what was written. I couldn’t focus. Everything I heard someone speak or felt someone moving near, my heart would jump. Finally, I closed the book, letting my thumb slide across the fore-edge of the book repeatedly.

Fwhp. Fwhp. Fwhp.

Mom’s hand shot out, grabbing mine. “Will you cut that out?” she hissed, rubbing her temple with her free hand. As if that would get rid of her hangover. Maybe she shouldn’t have stayed out so late with her friends knowing I had to be at the airport at eight the next morning.

I wondered if it was karma for sending me away.

I didn’t have the energy to scowl at her because I had been a nervous wreck all night, unable to sleep. I had multiple small panic attacks throughout the night, but I could only ignore them and wish them away. As the night had ticked by, I grew more and more tired, and the more tired I grew the worse my anxiety became but there was nothing I could do. I just had to lay there and take it.

Just like I have to sit here and let my mom send me away to a different country. I was completely helpless.

“Flight 340 to Tokyo, Japan is now boarding. Please proceed to gate G,”

“Finally,” mom muttered under her breath, standing up and motioning for me to do the same. “Let’s go, Samantha.”

“That’s not my name,” I muttered under my breath, but she either didn’t hear me or was too eager to get me on the plane to care. She probably just wanted to get home so she could sleep off the hangover. I hated being called Samantha and she knew it, but she refused to call me Sam or, hell, even my middle name would be fine.

I followed behind her, clutching the strap of my bag like my life depended on it. I kept my gaze on the floor, not wanting to see the hundreds of people shuffling back and forth trying to get to their flights. With every step, it felt like I was getting closer to my end. I pictured a pirate being shuffled towards a guillotine.

“Here we are,” Mom stopped near the gate, digging into her purse. “Here’s your passport and your ticket. Here’s my cell phone number, I know you don’t remember it. Did you bring your ID?”

I nodded, staring down at the ground. There was a dark stain near my foot, a mud-brown against the tan carpet. Was it soda? It made me think of Coke.

“Look at me, Samantha.”

I refused.

She sighed heavily before pulling me into a tight hug. It made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t try to pull away, my arms hanging limply at my sides. “Call me when you land, okay? This is a second chance for you, Samantha. Don’t waste it.”

Those words pissed me off and I forced myself away from her, stepping up to the back of the line. I could feel her gaze on me, but she didn’t come after me. I felt tears clouding my vision – tears of anger, tears of pain, tears of betrayal. The only thing keeping me going was the mental image of me breaking down and being stared at by all these people.

I quickly rubbed at my eyes, focusing on the person standing in front of me to try and distract my mind. She was an older woman, maybe around sixty or seventy, and she was a head shorter than me. She wore a tan and salmon dress, a white shawl draped over her shoulders. Her salt and pepper permed hair stuck out from underneath a salmon-colored boater hat. She was humming something softly and I found myself leaning closer, the sound calming my erratic nerves.

The flight attendant smiled at me, but I couldn’t tell if she was actually happy to be there or if she was faking it. “May I see your ticket, passport, and ID, please?”

I shakily handed them over. God, I probably look as nervous as I feel. What if they think I’m acting suspicious and detain me? What if they think I’m a terrorist or something?

But the woman didn’t seem to notice my anxiety as she handed them back with a smile. “Enjoy your flight, Miss!”

Not in a million years, I scoffed. This was my first time being on a plane and I didn’t know what to expect. As I walked down the long tunnel to the plane, it felt as if it stretched on forever. Would it end up being like in anime, when you can see the light at the end but no matter how far you run you just never reach it? My heart pulsed in my ears and my legs were starting to feel like jelly.

What if my legs give out and I fall, gaining everyone’s attention? The thought made me want to barf.

There was another flight attendant just inside the door. She also smiled. “May I see your ticket so I can direct you to your seat?”

I shakily handed her the ticket.

“Let’s see. Your seat is F20, that’s the second row after first class.” She handed the ticket back but I fumbled and dropped it.

“S-Sorry,” I quickly bent down to retrieve it before rushing down the aisles to my seat, repeating the same mantra in my head over and over – Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

My seat was the one by the window. The middle seat was empty, while the aisle seat held the older woman that had been standing in front of me in line.

As I tried to string together words, she stood up, stepping aside so I could get to my seat. She smiled warmly at me and I cursed myself for seeming rude. I quickly shoved my backpack in the cubby above the seats before sliding into the row and sitting down, folding my arms tightly.

She sat back down. “Is this your first flight, dear?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words refused to come. I made a strangled noise. Jesus, Sam, she’s going to think you’re a bitch. I closed my eyes tightly. “Y-Yeah,” my voice was low and I wondered if she heard me.

“Ah, I remember my first flight.” She looked up as if the memory was playing on the roof of the plane. “I was a bit younger than you, but I was also flying alone. It was quite a terrifying experience.” She glanced at me with a warm smile. “When the plane took off, I started to cry! The flight attendant tried to shush me, said I was disturbing the other passengers, but that just made me cry harder.”

I nodded my head to let her know I was listening, and I forced myself to glance at her every few words. Is it normal to lock eyes with someone when you talk to them? Is that considered rude or creepy? I had never been able to meet someone’s eye for more than a few seconds. Then again, I’m quite defective, aren’t I?

“There was this older man a few rows back. I imagine he was around my age now. He completely ignored the signs ordering the passengers to keep their seatbelts on and he came, taking the seat beside me. I only made it through the flight because of him. If I hadn’t calmed down, they were going to land the flight at the next available airport.”

I see. So she’s trying to pay forward his kindness by trying to make me feel more comfortable? I found myself smiling. “Um, may I – may I ask your name?”

“Of course you may,” she smiled, leaning forward so she could extend her hand toward me. “My name is Agatha Fletcher. And yours, dear?”

I took her thin hand in my own and I found myself scared to grip too hard. Her hand looked frail and the thought of hurting her was not something I wanted to do, but her grip on my own hand was firm. “Sam… my name is Sam.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam.”

━━━━━━༻ 🌀 ༺━━━━━━

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neocassity · 7 years ago

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❁ Mortified | John Seo ❁

A/N: You could say it is a modern ‘Pride and Prejudice’!AU set in College. I have no other way to put it. The next parts shall be up sometime soon. Enjoy your read, if it is palatable to you, that is. You can express your distaste or ‘liking’ if you find it worthy of a feedback. I shall look forward to it.

❀Genre: Angst, Romance ❀Pairing: Reader x John Seo ❀Word Count: 1,985

Part 1 ❄️ | Part 2 ❄️ | Epilogue ❄️|

Pride mortified is pride lost. Pride mortified is pride in war to be brought back. Pride mortified is loathing the subject who caused the derision.

Something rather unnatural was taking place in an educational institution, and ‘mortification of pride’ could it be labelled rather amusingly. As the pair assigned glared at each other apprehensively, impertinence a rather robust feature in both their etiquette toward each other, their peers silenced in their quest to converse and resolutely thought how to make their hatred for each other lighter.

To no avail.

“What kind of sentence is this? Could you not bring your prudishness here as well?”

“Could you please care to understand that candidness is not appreciable when you are presenting yourselves in a formal setting?”

“We live in the 21st century where candid is the key to social exploration and growth-”

“A new century doesn’t necessarily signify values lost-”

“Values are lost when you do not help an elderly cross the street, or rather adamantly disagree with your partner just because you are shallow enough to let your personal distaste get in the way of your education!”

His face flushed and his eyes widened, not leaving yours for a mere second. The corner of your lips lifted triumphantly as you sensed his will to vocalise his revulsion any further having retired. An easy victory over the haughtiest man you had ever come across.

He stomped out of the classroom and the entire student body present sighed unanimously, relieved that one half of the tension had chosen to hide beneath his own grimace. The other half was joyous then, as you pranced your way to your friends, one of whom chose to admonish you for you rather inconvenient uproar.

“You know he is the professor’s preferred pupil. Rebuking him in front of hundreds of pupils will infuriate him further. He will make your grades fall and you will have to repeat the course. You’re the reason behind my high blood pressure. I cannot even bring myself to understand-”

“You need to rest yourself!” you chortled, “I am severe on his nerves, so why does that disturb yours? Sometimes I feel compelled to reconsider if we are the best of friends or you and him.”

“Of course it isn’t the latter, which leads me to worry. You and him are paired for the second time in a semester! Do you know what it is for? The professor wants you both to communicate and sort out whatever difference causes the commotion.”

“It could be sorted but unfortunately, I am not as wealthy to change my facial attributes by going under the knife. And again, after further reconsideration, I’d rather spend the money to buy myself books and us meals than distort something God has so carefully blessed me with.”

That caused your friend’s tongue to hold itself back, for she had been your companion when your last bit of newly conjured respect for the aforementioned man had broken down with his rather unflattering words.

“I do not understand how does anyone even like y/n,” he had started rather broodingly, “She is unnecessarily loud, outspoken to the point where it is considered to be rather discourteous, and not even physically attractive. Have you seen her stuffing that little mouth of hers with food without any worry of her health? Rather unlikable, if I were to be honest.”

You were to ramp down the three only stairs beneath your feet to him to give him a piece of your mind, but your friend grabbed your elbow and pulled you away. Her words of solace to you were,

“When a man is so blindly disdainful, he is deaf to words spoken out loud as well. Speaking to him would only make him get even a worse impression of you. You must not complain!”

But you were a woman of your own choice, later telling him that ‘rain is only appreciated inside a house when it rings against the roof’.

“What if one doesn’t necessarily like the rain?” he refuted, his hand stopping against the paper he was so ardently writing on.

“Then that person doesn’t like the essence of life. I would be far from surprised though, if one finds themselves abrasive to sound just because they can hardly produce their own.”

His pleasantly groomed eyebrows, something you had once taken the liberty to praise him for, rose in understanding of your words. From then on, you hated curves resembling the ones that crowned his eyes.

The silence between you two had found its own colour which resembled a repugnant yellow, and its odour brushed off people even closest to both your bosoms. When it was brought to attention to one of your most eager and prolific professors, he paired you two together. Contrasting persona, thoughts, and styles; same job, mission, and goal. The first project had been finished with much endeavour on both their parts, yet there was lack of cooperation that requires interest and compromise. The professor was a good judge of character, and thus shamelessly paired the two creatures, who were hateful toward each other, together again.

However, last time they hadn’t had such a passionate banter. It was safe to acknowledge that the two of you were to ignore and loathe each other till death could put it to rest. His cold demeanour, inconsiderate disdain toward people any different from him or his preference, his constant denial to any situation foreign even at the slightest; all had you crinkle the skin on your nose and your lips hinted a subtle pout.

“I cannot see you two putting up with each other anymore. Alas, your grades are going to tumble down!”

“Fear not, my friend!” you consoled, “I am going to ensure none of us suffer for our mutual hatred.”

The next day when it came down to the rushed submission, your partner showed up rather tentatively, his head slightly bowed as his eyes sweeping across the ground. You hid a rather sardonic grin behind the back of your hand as he approached you. You stood quietly as he placed himself at a position where both your arms could never touch, a space where another friend of yours could stand to snicker at him comfortably.

“I apologise for my behaviour. I will take responsibility and ask Professor Austen to grade us separately. That only ensures justice-”

Quietude ensured as you handed him a teal-coloured file, containing contents supporting yours. He read through all the pages except the first few he had typed on his own, his glances vapid at your articulate and keen observation of his representational fashion and perfect execution on his behalf.

“How-” he had started but put to silence when the students standing before you in queue moved, allowing you and your partner to present yours to the teacher. Standing before the class, you started with a beam that quirked your eyes. To your astonishment, he complied and supported, also curving his lips rather gleefully every once in a while. You could not help but raise your well-trimmed eyebrows for the occasion. Well, he probably had some goodness draped by the ice that coursed through his veins instead of the warm, crimson blood.

After the termination of the lesson for the day, he watched as your closest companion ran to you with Americano. Had you stayed up all night working his part as well? Why did you feel the need to drive yourself for his grades too? You were the last person who could be complaisant, thus the sacrifice on your part was rather complex whenever it came to being explained in his mind.

He met his friend in the cafeteria as he carefully sliced onto his pancake, dimples digging his soft cheeks as he looked up at his rather bewildered friend.

“She worked on my part, too. The professor did not even understand that it was not written by me. She saved both of us from failing this course.”

“Well, that calls for celebration!” Jaehyun declared victoriously, “I had told you that despite her spirited persona, she is not as intolerable as you brand her to be. She could have talked of your misdemeanour and asked the class to justify her actions as well as complains. Yet, she chose to just work it out on her own and save you from all the mortification. If she were as blasphemous as you think of her, she wouldn’t have sacrificed her own sleep for the sake of your pride.”

He looked away and his eyes perceived you slouched across the table as your friend ran her fingers fondly through your hair. You let your forehead touch the table and your nose followed, you shoulders finally unwind and your body lax. Only then did he realise that you were rather petite, and the manner you carried yourself had a lot of venture in how you were perceived. Your long mane covered your arms as you used your palms to leverage your head upon the table, your friend generously scattering your locks out of the braided bun to give your head a lesser load to carry on the top.

“She has beautiful hair,” he muttered to himself, his whisper anguished, “It looks rather illusory… almost thought-provoking and transcendental…”

Jaehyun’s mouth fell open as he rambled on to himself, his eyes fixated upon your form. He refused to look away, adamant to drink in your features, all the beauty his rather hateful eyes had purposefully patronised before. He could explain the reason before, but then he was all astonishment as you slowly brought your face up to your friend, your chin resting on your palm as you smiled lightly. Your left cheek had a very faint indentation, so faint that one not having seen you for years could not put it to describe your face. He ogled your form, his breath having hitched.

“It’s just hair…” Jaehyun finally informed his rather bleak friend, before he rose to his feet and walked to your table.

He cleared his throat and gathered your attention, which was somewhat scattered to him as well. You sat up straight and tensed your shoulders promptly, your neck straightening as he stared at the table where your face was placed even a while before, imagining the smile as he could not dare to look at its originator.

“I, for a fact, have in mind that you are not a very complaisant person. Rather, you are conceited and somewhat self-centred as well. Despite all your rather stark and uninviting shortcomings, what you did today is rather commendable and I shall forever be in debt for your selfless service, more so because it was certainly out of your character.”

“Interesting…” your friend muttered quietly beneath her lips, closed and twisted.

The fact that the man towered over you had never delighted you, thus you chose to stand before him despite being rather fatigued, too fatigued to strike up an argument the most insensitive person was bound to desire.

“John, I had never heard such intricate description of my character till now. I am rather surprised at your insightful observation of a fellow classmate. I shall always remember how I am, and act upon my traits. Especially, more to the person who had the vigour to judge me so. I am not so thankful, I’m afraid.”

He started but you put your hand up respectfully, showing him some of your refined character his eyes failed to perceive, “If you will excuse me, I need to have some rest before the commencement of our next class.”

Jaehyun’s palm deafeningly landed upon his face as he shook his head. His lips pursed as his friend drearily walked to him and sat down.

“I do not know what I have done to cause her such temper.”

Jaehyun chose to shake his head again, leaving his friend in a rather frenzied condition of mind.

#johnny seo #john seo #johnny suh #johnny scenarios #johnny angst #johnny fluff #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #johnny fanfictions #nct fanfictions #nct 127 scenarios

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bangtan-yeonghon · 7 years ago

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Oath | Ch.25 | Jungkook

Genre: Angst | Mafia!AU

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

| Previous Chapter | Chapter List | Next Chapter |

Word count: 6,266

A/N: All that time spent not writing deffinitelly show...But apart from that I’m happy to be back. I loved writing this chapter and I hope you’ll enjoy it as well. ^^ I really missed this~

Several seconds bled into the dead silence surrounding them, two hearts beating one next to the other at different paces, one slow, the other racing in front of possible death. Jungkook's mind was working on all the different scenarios of how this could go, and none of them had a pleasant outcome. He was holding you tight, feeling the warmth leaving your body by every moment that was wasted. He had to get this over with fast. He thought about running, but within the first few steps you would both be shot, he considered fighting them, but that would not go well either. There was only one way out, a risky one that no matter if it worked or not, would separate the two of you again. It required some serious thought. He looked down at you, clenched his jaw, and made his decision.

"What are you doing here, kid?" Black Tiger asked.

"I could ask the same question, but I already know the answer."

Black Tiger sneered at his answer.

"Smart little punk. You know, I'm actually proud of you, son. Now, put the girl down and get in the car, we have things to do."

"What if I don't want to."

"Don't try your luck, boy."

"Oh, but I will. I've got nothing to lose anyway."

"You know there is nowhere to go, kid, don't make this difficult."

"Maybe there is," Jungkook said with a smirk.

"Don't fool yourself. Get in the car, I don't have time for your childish games."

"I'm not getting in that car, and I will prove it to you that we'll walk out of here."

"Oh, yeah? How? You plan on taking on all of my men by yourself?"

"No need to. You will let us go."

"You're delusional. These guns pointed at you are not toys, kid."

"There is one thing you would want more than me dead, because I'm not leaving her behind, one thing that would benefit you more."

"And what is that?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Me."

Black Tiger stared at him, analyzing if he was serious, because he clearly did not think he was. He started laughing after a good two seconds of silence.

"Oh, man, that was a good joke. Kid, I already have you, now stop rebelling and get in the car while I'm still nice. You know I tend to lose my patience quite fast."

"I know you're looking for a leader."

"Glad to see you're informed of what has been going on in the group, considering you've chickened out a while ago. So, what do you propose now?"

"I'm in."

"You're in? You're in for what? You've fucked around so many times, whining that you don't want this life, that you want to go to college and shit. And now you want to be the leader?"

"I have reasons to believe you don't have a better option. "

"And why is that?"

"I know you...there is no chance you'll leave your precious group in the hands of another but your own blood. I got skills and information none of your close circle members have. Namjoon? Don't trust him that much. He already tried to kill me, what makes you think he won't turn against you too?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Care to reconsider my offer now?"

"You've grown to be a tough man, Jungkook-ah, I'm proud of you. But you need to get even stronger if you want to be a leader. You can't afford to have any weaknesses. And the one you so eagerly wish to sacrifice yourself for? She's the biggest one."

"24 hours is all I ask."

"You're in no position to ask for anything, kid."

They stared at each other with bloodshot eyes, ready to kill to get what they want, but the things Jungkook said made Black Tiger take a step back and fall into doubt about his choice for the next leader. The boy was right, he wanted someone with his blood rule his kingdom, not just a stranger he found one night standing in the rain outside his house. He trained both the boys, but Jungkook always seemed to naturally have it in him, even though he hated it. He had to think this trough really well, but if he killed the girl now, he would forever lose Jungkook. Accepting his proposal did not seem like such a bad thing after all. And, like he said, he was starting to lose patience, he had more important things to do.

"I'll do an exception for the last time, Jungkook-ah. Tomorrow I want you in my office, no excuses. And if she gets into the way one more time, I'll personally kill her, mark my words."

"Yes, sir!"

Jungkook's face was stern. Black Tiger nodded, motioned for the others to put the guns down, and got into the car. The sound of engines running and tires screeching has never been so relieving. Jungkook glanced at you again; you pale face was covered in small drops of cold sweat. He rushed to the car he parked on the side of the road, carefully placed you on the backseat, and headed towards the safest place he could think of, your home.

1 HOUR EARLIER

On another side of the city, Hoseok was driving down the road, with Yoongi silently looking out of the window right next to him. He knew something was off, but he always trusted his leader. Only that he had so many questions in his mind that needed answers, he could not help but ask.

"Jungkook is on the right way to Y/N, right?"

"Hm?" Yoongi looked at him.

"I know how you do stuff, and this doesn't feel right. You'd never agree to let Jungkook go alone."

"You're good," he chuckled.

"So he is. Taehyung won't like this."

"He'll get over it. This was the only way of getting Y/N out of there."

"We could've just take them by surprise."

"I am positive that's what Namjoon would've wanted."

"So you think it's a trap?"

"Yeah. That kid had a feeling too."

"How did he convince you to let him go alone though?"

"We made a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yeah, he takes Y/N out, we take care of her until he comes back."

"I still don't see what you get out of this."

"There is something, but I guess you weren't so quick on figuring out this one," he smiled.

"What?" Hoseok analyzed what he said a couple of seconds earlier. "Until he comes back....what does that mean?"

"You will see. You trust me, right?"

"I do."

"That's enough. Now turn the car around and floor it, we need to get to Taehyung before he reaches the destination and flips."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"I'll figure something out on the way. All he needs to know is that Y/N is safe, that will calm him down a little."

"Don't get your hopes too high, you know he can be really difficult at times."

"He doesn't have any other choice. He'll have to calm the fuck down and wait, like we all will. We have bigger problems now."

Yoongi closed his eyes, clearly done with the conversation. Hoseok did not say another word for the rest of the ride. When they got there, Taehyung was already out of his minds with anger. It was just an empty old glass factory, no trace of Y/N nor Namjoon. It took a while only to get Taehyung to listen to them, but as soon as Yoongi raised his voice, he dug his eyes into the ground.

"So Y/N is with him now?" Taehyung asked.

"Most likely," Yoongi calmly replied.

"And we won't do anything to get her back?"

"That was the deal. He gets one day with her, then she comes back to us."

"What about him?"

"I don't fucking care about him. Y/N is what you want, right? That was the deal. Now shut the fuck up and get in that damned car. Sleep at your hotel tonight and meet us at the club tomorrow. I'll tell you where Y/N is. "

This conversation could have gone for a lot longer, but it would only have ended up with someone getting punched, and they had other things that needed their attention. Yoongi had so much on his mind, that wasting his time on this was not even worth it. Taehyung knew that as well, and as much as it bothered him that you were with Jungkook, he had to get over it. It was going to be some really long night.

Soft rain was falling from the sky like millions of small diamonds shining in glory for one brief moment that was soon to pass as they would smash against the earth, embracing it in their cold and wet touch. The calming sound made everything else fade away as in a dream, the perfect picture of serenity. But in a certain apartment the lights were still on, even though only two hours were keeping the morning away. A shadow gliding along the smooth surface of the curtains disturbed the peacefulness of the night. It seemed to be running back and forth, looking for something. That shadow was Jungkook gathering all the bandages in the house, and everything else he needed to clean your wounds and stitch them. It was a familiar feeling. And to think he would have to do the same thing less than two weeks after he shot you. His bleeding arm was almost numb, but that didn't stop him. Your well being was a priority. So he worked fast in making sure you were not bleeding, your pulse got back to normal, and you were no longer shaking.

It was almost 6 AM when he finished everything, falling on the side of the bed next to you. He made the right decision in bringing you back to the place that you both called home for a while. Being raised in the kind of environment that he was, Jungkook always made sure to have everything he needed in case of any kind of emergency. You would sometimes make fun of him, but in the end they turned out useful. If he had taken you to the hospital, everything would have gotten out of control. But in his hands, you were safe, and that was all he wanted. He checked the clock; your time together was running low by the minute. His eyes were tired, his body on the edge of collapsing. Blood was no longer running down his arm, but his T-shirt was painted in red. A deep sigh escaped his lips. Why did all of this had to happen to you? He eyed you again, making sure you were alright and went into the bathroom. He carefully took off his shirt and threw it in the trash can. The wound looked bad, but he had had worse. Changing the bandage and taking a shower would do. It was as if the water was washing away everything he had on his mind, giving him a few minutes to actually breathe.

Being home felt so unreal now. It was like being back to their lives a few months back, but not really. He opened the door to the bedroom and stood there watching you. At that time he had sworn an oath to protect you no matter what, and it seemed like every time he had failed to do so. At least that how it was in his mind. He could have done anything to keep you by his side forever, but even these 24 hours seemed like a luxury now. He felt pressure on his chest, and it burned hotter than the wound on his shoulder, a devouring fire that swarmed through his veins. Blame, hatred, heartbreak, fear. A need for revenge.

But your touch, your warmth could make them vanish like magic. They say love is one of the most powerful feelings, and maybe they are right. He sneaked in bed next to you, gluing his body to yours as to scare away all the cold that send shivers down your spine, and the nightmares that tortured you. His eyelids fell heavily, pushing him into deep sleep, the most peaceful he had in a long while.

Inside your mind images were flashing with such speed it made you dizzy. A familiar scene, an abandoned building, dust filling your lungs, two chairs, ropes digging into skin, darkness. Shadows moving in the distance made your heart race. You looked around trying to get a hint as to how you ended there. A hot drop made your eyes trace it to your thighs. Blood. An excruciating pain traveled through your head like lightning. You tried to groan but your voice was so weak, like a whisper in the middle of the crowded city.

"Y/N..."

A voice so dear tickled your ears. But it sounded different from what you were used to, it sounded scared, worried. Jungkook? You guessed right. On the other side of the room, close enough to get a clear image, but still far out of reach, a pair of loving eyes traced back to you. He had a few bruises and stains of blood, but looked far better than how he did back in Yoongi's secret torture basement. You tried to move closer to him, forgetting for a second that you were tied to a chair, just like he was. Your confused expression didn't seem to faze him. You opened your mouth again, hoping words would come out loud and clear, but it was useless. The pain from your head traveled throughout your spine and down to your toes, making you shiver. With chopped lips and cold sweat dripping from your forehead you felt the room spinning out of control. You felt like the darkness was closing in on you, swallowing your entire soul. And you were too weak to fight. You closed your eyes, ready to feel its cold touch, but distant murmur pulled you back it. New faces appeared in the picture, faces you knew all too well.

"Taehyung..."

It was out, the first word traveling from your lips. But it didn't seem to reach him. You tried harder. This time he turned around. You looked him in the eye and smiled. You were saved. You didn't know from what, but you were saved. Everything felt distant, yet so familiar, like it had happened before. It seemed like he and Jimin came while you were passed out, even though it felt like just a second. Something felt off. It was like you skipped a few scenes from a movie and ended up wondering what had happened during those because nothing made sense. But you were saved. With every step he took closer, your smile grew larger. He kneeled next to you, his devilish grin giving you the strangest feeling. You saw a shadow moving in the background. You looked up and locked eyes with Jungkook who was screaming at the top of his lungs, even though no sound came out. He kept trying to free himself from the tight grip of the rope. This didn't feel right. Everything was moving in slow motion. At a closer look, Taehyung looked nothing like the one you would kiss so passionately. There was something demonic about his whole aura. Trying to piece everything together was a great challenge. You tried to remember the last thing you saw, your last whereabouts, something that would clarify what was happening. That's right, Namjoon's place...But you came after me, Taehyung, you saved me. What's wrong? What happened?!

"STOP!!" Jungkook's scream made your heart jump. You looked down, eyes widening when they landed on the suspicious syringe he was holding. You shook your head softly.

"No...No, Taehyung, please stop. What is that? You're scaring me. Tae, please!"

" Once this thing goes into your veins, you will feel like your blood is made of fire, you will start seing things, hearing things...if all of it goes in, you'll die..."

"What?" your voice died in the heavy air. "No, stop! Kim Taehyung!!!"

Too late. He pushed the needle deep into your skin, letting the fluid burn you. Tears rolled down your cheeks. This isn't real. You tried to fool yourself into believing it was all a nightmare, but it was more than that. Your head felt light, spinning again. Same feeling of falling into nothingness. You fought it one last time to look Taehyung in the eye. He seemed pleased with the outcome. It hurt you so much it felt like your lungs were pressed between two steel walls. Why?... Losing strength, you let your head fall, a small, shiny ring resting on your finger capturing your attention. It seemed like the only thing that fit into the picture, the only detail that you could cling on to. It seemed so familiar, you strained you brain into finding the piece of puzzle that seemed to be missing. A day that seemed far away, Jimin's room, a velvet box, the scene became clearer step by step. It was then that you first saw the ring, but why would you be wearing it? Your furrowed eyebrows completed the shocked and confused look on your face. It was then when it hit you. It was not a nightmare, it was a memory.

Everything shattered in a blink of an eye, leaving only your mind floating in deep black. It was clearly something that had happened in the past, but it still made no sense. You recalled how adamant Jungkook was to let you go with Taehyung back when he tried to run away with you, after treating the gunshot wound on your shoulder, how safe you felt with Jungkook, how his kiss awakened something deep in your soul. You were a couple. A blinding light came to you at great speed, piercing your soul as images from the past flashed before your eyes, connecting into the movie of what had happened that day at the old, abandoned building. You saw Yoongi, you felt the fear as he pointed the gun at Jungkook, the pain of leaving him behind, how terror crept into your bones as you made your way through the hallways, the spark of courage you got when you saw the pipe laying in front of you, and how everything faded away with one hit. You tried to close your eyes, to block everything; it was suffocating. Then, as if someone had pulled a sword out of you, it was over.

You eyes snapped open, heartbeat so strong and fast paced you could feel it in the back of your head. Tears fell like waterfalls, soaking the pillow underneath. Your nails were digging into the sheets, refusing to let go as you struggled to breathe. It took you a moment to take in everything before you became aware of your whereabouts. White walls surrounded you, white curtains were dancing in the soft wind, a cold, pleasing touch that made the small hairs on your hands stand, a bed for two cramped in the corner, a wardrobe large enough to satisfy a couple, a vase standing on the sole nightstand on your left that at one time might have been overflowing with flowers of various colors now only held a sheen layer of dust. The air wore a trace of a fragrance that was once giving life to the room, but it was now barely there, as if nobody entered it in weeks. The dust that embraced every surface hinted at that as well. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, eyes following every object in the room from one side to the other. You had no clue as to where you where or how you got there, but it gave you a sense of calm and security. That feeling again, that you knew this place, but couldn't really put your finger on it.

The door creaked, making you jump just a little. With a delicate push it opened, giving you sight of the man that stood behind it dressed in leisure clothing with hair falling over his eyes, cups of tea in both hands.

"Oh! You're awake," Jungkook spoke with a bittersweet smile.

His oversized shirt and loose trousers combined with his messy bed hair made for an intimate-morning-between-lovers image. You couldn't understand why, but it made you warm inside. And somewhere in a small box in your head, you knew it was something you were used to, something that had happened before, but you were too distracted by the present to focus on the past.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice so tender.

"I'm..."

"Still a bit confused?" he offered you one of the cups and took a seat on the floor right in front of you.

"Yeah. Where am I?"

"How's your body? Does it still hurt? I've given you some painkillers, but I need to know you are alright."

"I'm...fine. My whole body feels weird."

"Well you were close to death for the, what, third time? I would feel weird too," he said in a playful tone.

"I think I passed that digit," you chuckled.

"Where's Taehyung?"

"Why are you asking?" his tone changed the slightest bit.

"He was there, in the warehouse. He took me out."

"He didn't take you out, Y/N..."

"But I saw him."

"It wasn't Taehyung you saw."

"Then who?" Words came out of your mouth faster than they traveled through your brain. You realized short after Jungkook was the one that saved you, only that it was too late. You bit your lip and eyes changed to an apologetic look. He let you off with a soft laugh.

"Thank you."

"I don't deserve it. I'll have to save you a million more times to make up for everything I put you through."

"And what exactly is that?"

"Everything...But now is not the time to talk about that. You've been through a lot, Y/N, try to relax now. You're out of danger."

He was about to get up and leave when you stopped him. "Where exactly am I? What is this place? Have I been here before?"

"Why? Does it ring a bell?"

"It feels....strangely comfortable."

"And so it should."

"So?" you eyed him, demanding an answer.

"Home, Y/N, you're home."

"Home? This is my place?"

"Our place, to be more precise."

"Our?!? How...well did we know each other?"

"Enough to share an apartment apparently."

"Well I can see that but..."

"Rest, Y/N, you need it."

"Wait a second. Why are you here?!" The last time you saw him he was barely alive in that basement. How come he was now standing in front of you with only the bruises and cuts on his face reminding you of that?

"I saved you, remember?"

"Yeah, but how are you out? Yoongi wouldn't let you go just like that...Did you run away?"

"Knowing Yoongi, do you think I'd be standing here if I ran?"

"There's a slight chance."

"Funny. How I got out, doesn't matter. What matters is that today we'll take a break from all of the mafia stuff and make sure you get better."

"I'm fine, Jungkook. I just need to know."

"One step at a time."

He got out of the room, but let the door cracked open like an invitation to follow him. In other situations, you would have stayed put, but given the circumstances and your growing curiosity, you pushed yourself on your toes, almost losing balance when you took a step forward. You placed your right hand on the door in an attempt to balance yourself when something in the left corner of your eye captured your attention. A small frame in which a picture of you and Jungkook was kept away from all the dust. You took it in your hands, chest tightening as your eyes scanned it to the very last detail. Your smiles were bright as if you had no worries, no pressure, no darkness coming to get you. He had a hand around your shoulder and you had both arms wrapped around his torso. It seemed like a sunny summer day somewhere at the seaside. Flashes of a memory brought tears to your eyes. It was easy to forget that day, but hard to forget what it felt like. You dried your eyes, placed the frame back on the small table, and followed the smell of ramyeon to the kitchen. Your steps were wary, something Jungkook noticed too.

"Why are you so tense? Relax, nothing bad is going to happen," his voice was reassuring.

"It's nothing...just that it feels strange...being here, with you."

"Why? Would you prefer Taehyung?"

"No, it's not that. You said this is our home...every corner seems familiar in some way, but I can't remember any of it..."

"Is that what's bothering you?" he came next to you and caressed your shoulders.

"I feel like I lost a great piece of me."

"Baby, you haven't lost anything. You're still here, I'm still here, we're home. We can always start again." Seeing how your eyes were watery again, he pulled you in a sweet, cozy embrace. "It's going to be ok."

You closed the hug and buried your nose into his neck, breathing in as much of his perfume as you could. It was a soft scent, not something that would hit you in the face, something only the most intimate act would bring to the surface. His strong arms were keeping your body steady, feeling like the most carefully built and trusted armor that existed, at least for you. And it was all natural, like nothing but time stood between this and the memory of a hug that had happened in the forgotten past. Your mind was clear of Taehyung, of the group, of Namjoon, and all the other problems you both had. It was just the two of you and that's all that mattered right now. You had questions and this was the perfect time to get answers. After you ate he insisted on checking your wounds, especially the one on your back. Your mind raced to something you remembered just before waking up, Jungkook had been there too. It was the perfect point to start.

"Last night...I had a dream..."

"A dream?"

"Yeah. We were both tied to chairs in some run down building just outside the city. Yoongi shot you, Hoseok pulled my hair and beat you to a pulp while Jimin enjoyed the show, and Taehyung...he injected some substance in my leg, and it burned. At first I thought it was just a nightmare, but now I am almost sure it was real."

You felt his movements halt for a couple of seconds. "Y/N..."

"You told me Yoongi was not trying to help me..."

"You really can't let that go, can you," he was worried.

"If we were close enough to share an apartment, I'm sure you knew well enough how much I hate to be left in the dark."

He let out a soft laugh. "You got me cornered now."

"Spill it," you said playfully.

"It's true, what you remember. It was supposed to be one of the best days in our lives."

"Great turn of events."

"You said it. Anyway, I was not expecting Yoongi to show up. Then I woke up tied to a chair, just like you. I felt the world tremble under my feet when I saw you passed out in front of me. And when Taehyung drugged you I swore I'll be the one killing him. How far does your memory go? "

"Just till there. How did we end up in that car crash?"

"Jin got us out of there, he gave us his car. You were unconscious and when you came back it happened."

"White lights coming towards us...car flying in the air...they took you away. I tried to fight back."

He kneeled in front of you, and wiped the tears that were silently rolling down. "We can stop here."

"No. I remember blood and shards everywhere, I remember black shoes getting closer...your fingers slipped right between mine. A man...he pulled me out and tried to choke me to death," your voice was shaking. "A ring...I saw a ring flying through the air. Now that I think about it, I was wearing a ring that day, it was silvery and had small stones, so delicate yet gave my hand a royal touch. Do you know about it? You must have seen me wearing it."

Jungkook's eyes read sorrow. "An engagement ring."

"Yeah, it looked like that. Wait...what?"

"Y/N, I asked you to marry me that morning..."

You lips parted in shock. You rose to your feet and took a few steps towards the center of the room that served both as a kitchen and a living room. He closely followed you.

"No way. This can't be happening. Why can't I remember any of it? Why can't I remember you? This is not right." You were crying, out of control.

"Y/N, baby, calm down. It's not your fault. Give it time."

"No...I can't just forget everything just like that. I can't..."

"Stop, baby, you're only hurting yourself." He clasped your hands and pulled you into his arms.

"I want to remember. Our memories, our time together, I want them back. I want them all back!!"

Headache was spreading fast, your shaking body losing strength with each shot of pure pain. You were not sure anymore if you were crying because of your amnesia or because of that. Your feet were the first to give in.

"Y/N!" Jungkook gave you enough support not to crash, but safely land on the floor. You were laying in his arms, all sobs and waves of cold sweat. He put a hand over your forehead. "You're burning. This is not good."

In the middle of tossing and turning, drowning in pain, your eyes landed on the cups that stood on the coffee table in front of the couch, right to your left. The last piece of the puzzle. Your breath hitched for a second and right then in all came back to you. They were no longer just flashes, but big pieces of information that surfaced from the depths of your subconscious. Eyes closed, you let everything fall into place. You were just a by-stander to your own life, at least to some part of it that was stolen from you by the greed of some people.

"Y/N...Y/N!!" he gave your body soft shakes. "Y/N, baby, wake up!"

He was about to pick you up and take you back to the bedroom when you came back to your senses. You looked at the man standing in front of you, the one you longed for, the one who felt like home, the dark brown eyes that made your feet weak, the soft lips that glided over yours with so much love it made your heart go crazy, the long locks of hair that were always messy when you woke up, the same warmth that you remembered. You knew them all so well, you knew him all so well.

"Jungkook..." your voice was close to a whisper, but his name came out with a different color this time, a different feeling, something more profound, something mixed with so many emotions that only hinted at one thing: I remember you.

"It's ok, Y/N, I'm here. How are you feeling? Does it hurt that bad? Should I give you another painkiller?"

"Jungkook-ah..." again, the same feeling, now followed by a smile. You placed your left hand on his cheek and caressed it. "I remember."

"What?" It was as if the soul had left his body.

"I remember...everything," your smile grew larger.

He looked you deep in the eye, speechless, for a couple of seconds, then his arms wrapped around you so tight it was hard for you to breathe. Tears completed the emotional picture. He was the first to break the hug. "Are you sure?"

You nodded.

Another hug followed by a kiss none of you had seen coming, it was all dictated by the feelings. Surprised, but clearly pleased, you deepened the kiss and let your lips dance for long minutes, until the thirst was finally quenched. Back in bed, you cuddled under the sheets bringing back all the moments you had together. The last rays of the sun bled into the sky. Time was running low. Jungkook considered for a second the possibility of running away, but they were outnumbered and out of money to fly to another country. He knew he had to tell you that fate was about to throw them another shot, but he felt so good having you back in his arms, he felt whole again.

"Does Taehyung know?" you broke the silence.

"Hm? Know what?"

"That I'm here, with you..."

"He probably does."

"I still wonder how he's not barging in any given moment."

"It was part of the deal."

"Deal? What deal?"

"I only got 24 hours with you," he said as he roamed his fingers through your hair. "I have to take you back to Yoongi before that."

You pushed yourself on the elbows and looked him dead in the eye. "What do you mean?! I thought...I thought we were finally done with that."

"Y/N, listen to me, this is the only way to keep you safe. I have to go back...to Black Tiger..."

"No...I don't believe you! I just got my memories back!"

"I know, baby, I know, and I hate it, but there's really nothing I can do. In exchange for your life I had to give this up."

"Jungkook-ah!" Any trace of a smile vanished, sadness picking at your heart.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. You have to trust me."

"How much time do we have left?"

"Not much..."

"Digits!"

"Two hours."

"Two hours?!? And when were you going to tell me?? When we parted ways? Were you even going to??"

"I know it's hard, Y/N, heck, it's Hell for me too! But you need to understand I did this for you! Was I not to give up our chance of happiness, you wouldn't be here right now!"

"Why always us, Jungkook?..." your sobs got lost into the night sky.

"I'll find my way back to you, I promise!" he cupped your face.

"How?"

"Just trust me."

You placed you head on his chest and let his shirt absorb the tears that streamed down your face for the last time that day. You took a shower after Jungkook made sure water won't get into the wounds, and changes into new clothes. Their scent contained the feeling of home. You took the picture out of the frame and put it in the back pocket of your jeans without Jungkook noticing and slid outside of the bedroom. Just like always, he was waiting for you in the living room. You avoided his eyes, certain you wouldn't be able to control your emotions, and he didn't say a word. He was driving down the empty city streets while you were staring out the window, silence pressing on both of you, but none having the courage to break it. And what was the point, after all, you'd say goodbye in a few minutes. You dreaded parting ways with him, even when you knew that it was for your own good. The car came to a standstill in front of a hotel both of you knew well, the one owned by none other than Kim Taehyung. Your eyes stopped on the golden rotating door then flew back to Jungkook. Fear took over and he noticed it.

"It's ok, Y/N, he won't do anything to you. If there's something I am sure of, is that Taehyung will never hurt someone he cares for...and as much as I hate to say it, he loves you, Y/N."

"I don't want to go..."

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face you. "It's been the best 24 hours. The best weeks, months I had were the ones I spent with you. No matter what happens, I will never let go of this feeling, baby. If fate ever decides to give us a break, I'll find my way back to you."

You wanted to believe him, but deep inside you were aware he was going back to the ones you so wholeheartedly hated, the ones that were keen on killing you. Being in different gangs would only make for a tragic end, one your heart was not ready for. And still, you found the strength to nod. He reached for your seatbelt and unbuckled it for you. You were both fighting against emotions that were slowly choking you. One last look into his eyes, full of sincerity, full of things not even words could describe, something only the two of you knew.

"I love you!" you said softly before you jumped out of the car and rushed towards the entrance of the hotel, not daring to look back. You heard the tires squeal just as you were about to enter, but broke into crying just as you did. The chilly air and darkness of the night were your sole forms of relief. Half an hour later a voice tracing back to the VIP entrance made you raise your eyes from the floor you had been emptily staring at since the moment you sat there.

"Y/N!"

You tried to force the corners of your lips to curve into a smile, but it was too broken to seem genuine.

"Taehyung-ah..."

#networkbangtan #bts scenarios #bts mafia au #bts gang au #bts angst #jungkook mafia #jungkook scenarios #bts mafia #jungkook angst #taehyung angst #taehyung mafia #bts #bangtan #yoongi #namjoon #jin #jimin #hoseok #oath

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weevil-underwood · 7 years ago

Note

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Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing - Set it OffThe campfire’s crackling ambiance sounded deafening in the silence between the two who were huddled in its bask. It hadn’t been Weevil’s plan, exactly, to anger the others in the “loser’s rowboat” enough to dump him overboard somewhere off the coast of Duelist Kingdom’s island…but then, he’d never really had the head for forethought and keeping his mouth shut when he was feeling disgraced.The important thing was that he hadn’t drowned…and it was, in no small part, due to Mako’s unlikely interference as he’d just happened to be spear fishing nearby.“Put me down, you blowfish!” he’d squealed as the other had held him aloft from the water by the collar of his shirt, soaking wet and coughing.“Ah, this one appears to be to too small! I may need to throw him back!” Mako had beamed in reply, fetching quick silence from Weevil on the matter.Now he scowled into the molten blur of the flames, his glasses long-gone somewhere in the water as he hugged the blanket he’d been lent further around his shoulders, shivering. “You should reconsider something to eat.” Mako said at last, sweeping a hand at the line of fish he’d caught throughout the day hanging nearby, ready to be spitted and cooked. “There’s plenty, after all. And sending you home half-drowned AND hungry would only be adding insult to the injury of your loss, would it not?”“I don’t eat fish.” Weevil snapped waspishly, huddling further into his blanket cocoon. Mako’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, as if the mere idea was unfathomable. “No? How do you get your protein?”“Almonds, beans, larvae…I don’t expect a hammerhead like you to understand this, but there are plenty of alternatives.” “Hmm…” Mako seemed to mull this over, hooking a finger around his chin, before chuckling. “Well, it does explain why you’re quite the small fry…”“Small fry?!” Weevil shrieked, bolting to his feet, the blanket falling off of him and revealing the full glory of his sorry, drowned-rat state. “I’ll show you who’s a small fry, you–g–gkk–G��AHCHOO!”“Now, now…” Mako soothed, rising from the other side of the fire to retrieve the discarded blanket and drop it back over Weevil like a noisy canary in its cage. “I think that you’ll find that a cold is something that even you can’t cheat your way out of, Weevil Underwood.” A growl emanated from somewhere beneath the blanket as they both took their seats once more. Silence crept back in as Weevil finally folded the blanket back enough to peek out of it, looking rather like a viper beneath a rock. He didn’t even need his glasses to know Mako was watching him. “…what?” he ventured when he couldn’t stand the feeling of eyes drilling into him any longer. “You haven’t even asked why I netted you out of the water.” Mako remarked, leaning over to grab a plump bass off of his line and hold it by the gill as he prepared to cook it. Weevil huffed out an indignant noise.“Why?” he asked, voice flat and making it abundantly apparent that he was merely playing along.“I’m glad you asked! There’s something I have wanted to know.” the aquatic duelist replied. “There are duelists that came to this tournament with many things riding on their victory. They were driven to the point of near-desperation, and yet your name is the only one I’ve heard whispered across the waves as a cheating sleaze. I can only imagine your stakes were the highest to have to resort to such cruelty in regard to your fellow competitors.”Weevil blinked and then his features pinched in dislike. “That’s none of your beeswax.” “No? I had only imagined it must be something truly devastating if it was worse than needing emergency funds for an operation. Or, perhaps, even more dire than rescuing the soul of a loved one. After all, only an absolute fool would needlessly stir up trouble on an island where there’s nowhere to run…”Mako punctuated his statement by spearing the bass forcefully on the end of a sharpened stick, making Weevil flinch as he offered it to the fire to begin cooking it.

If he was made to be honest about it, Weevil had absolutely nothing on the line except his pride and that returning home a loser would also mean a return to having his books slapped out of his hands between classes, being locked in the girls’ bathroom, and discovering used fly strips left stuck to his locker. Duel Monsters had been the equalizer he’d been waiting for all of his young life, and he’d just happened to excel at it. The people who used to torment him were now at his mercy. Guys three times his size who would have happily slam-dunked him into trash cans were now afraid to show their faces around Duel Rings after the hell he’d rained down upon their duelist reputation. Like hell was he letting things revert back to how they used to be, and he didn’t care who he needed to crush along the way or by what means.“Why do I need a reason?” he grated, an ugly smile curling his mouth. “Maybe I just like watching people squirm.” Mako cocked his head questioningly before erupting into laughter, abruptly killing the sinister air Weevil had been going for. “Wh–What’s so funny?? STOP laughing!” he demanded.“Then, please, stop being so funny!” Mako implored between deep-chested chuckles. “I’m afraid the only squirming I’ve seen going on throughout this tournament is from the people recounting your loss to Yugi Muto. Second-hand embarrassment is truly an awkward emotion.” Weevil’s eye twitched and he shrank back. Having the snot beaten out of him, he could bounce back from. Being insulted, he could brush off and fire back twice as hot. But there was something particularly disarming and humiliating about being mocked. “I don’t have to sit here and take this!” he shrieked, throwing the blanket off of himself. “This tournament got off on the wrong foot, but you mark my words! I am going to destroy Yugi Muto and everyone who tries to help him!”“Is that so?” Mako smirked, rising and folding his arms as he peered down at Weevil. “Then I suppose you’re leaving me little choice but to rise to your bait. I accept your challenge, Weevil Underwood! In the next tournament, it will be me and Yugi versus your issues!”“ISSUES?!” Weevil seethed, likewise jumping up and realizing he only came up to Mako’s chest in height. At the moment, though, he didn’t seem to care. Fury twitched at his features as he forced them into a smile. “Fine.” he spat. “Me and my insects versus you and Yugi. That won’t be a challenge at all. You’re nothing but a crumbling treestump for me to sharpen my mandibles on! Now then, if you’re done interrogating me…”Weevil whirled on his heel and stormed away from the campfire, into the growing dusk of the island’s woods, not seeming to have a specific direction in mind. The branches scraped at his face and tugged at his clothes, the darkness and lack of his glasses making it difficult to see…it didn’t matter. He didn’t need glasses to see where he was going in the forest. It was practically his second home, given how much time he spent bug-hunting in the wilds. Once he got back to the docks, he–The firm soil gave way to a patch of deep, marshy grass, making him lose his footing and go tumbling down a steep hill, cursing and sputtering all the way. Mako listened to the crash of brush with an arched brow before calling after him.“Mind the incline, by the way!” The response was a broken grumble from somewhere much further down the hill that might have been ‘go to hell’, fetching a shrug in reply. Oh well,..

#I had to hit shuffle like five times because it kept landing on instrumentals from video games #hope this is okay #alegendaryocean #for some reason it isn't letting me put this under a read-more so I apologize to anyone who's dash this stretches!

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