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#I knew I was gonna have this brain rot but to see it infect so many people
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Just thinking about the fact that the Daemon Targaryen tag on AO3 has gone from about seven works to OVER FIFTY and it has been less than a week!
We really are so sick for this and you know what? I love it. The devil works hard but the lure of the original tumblr sexy man works harder.
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peachesofteal · 7 months
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Ghoap x reader zombie apocalypse AU? 👀 just gonna leave that here...
Ooh anon you got me with this. Thought about it all night. A full fic of this dynamic in an apocalypse setting would be so good. Sadly, I don't have it in me to write an entire fic for this but I scratched it out as a dead disco au down below on my phone (I took bits and pieces of zombie media and smashed them together as I like):
18+ MDNI / angst, death
It was an accident.
All you had wanted to do was try to find some mushrooms. You knew this part of the woods usually had a fair amount to forage, and you were pretty good at distinguishing the good ones from the not so good ones. You hadn't meant to get distracted.
You knelt down to the forest floor, picking at a piece of bark on a downed log when you heard the rustling, the suspect sound of something moving through the brush near you.
You expected one of the slow ones. The ones that usually found themselves this far from the city, wandering aimlessly, looking for the next meal. Decaying and rotting flesh hanging from their limbs, a sign they had been long infected, the decomposition marking them as something easily escapable.
You did not expect a runner.
You screamed- a huge no no, as Simon had been drilling into your head- when you saw it, far too late, tripping over yourself to try to get away, your hunting knife pressed into the palm of your hand.
You stood little chance against a runner. They were fresh, muscles still intact, lactic acid burning through their bodies, movements fast and sharp, able to take down an entire human in one fell swoop. They even looked like you, still holding their pallor, their posture, their fine motor skills.
Only their minds were gone. Addled by the infection, brains turned to hot mush inside their skulls.
They had one objective.
Eat.
You managed to clear the log, sprinting as fast as you possibly could, trying to take long, deep breaths through your nose just as Johnny taught you.
"More oxygen that way, love. It'll help your endurance, keep you runnin' longer."
They were always doing that now, equipping you for survival. Trying to train you like a solider, teaching you the finer points they thought you should know.
"We're gonna make it, together." Simon had said, the morning they showed up in the middle being away for work, clad in full tactical gear, guns in hand. "As a family."
"Ye have to listen to everything we say, alright darling? Everything's goin' to be okay." Johnny promised at the same time as you tried to pack some essentials into your backpack with trembling fingers.
They were obsessed with trying to instill as much of their knowledge into as possible, trying to prepare you, help you, listing off rules they thought were key, ensuring you knew to follow them.
One being: don't get distracted.
You curse yourself, feet flying underneath your body and heart thrumming in your chest with panic. You're too slow, and you can hear it behind you, sprinting just as fast as you are, preparing to launch and take down it's next meal.
You don't see the snare of brambles until you're in them, nearly slamming to a stop, thorns scratching against your skin as you fight against the thicket. It's too dense, slowing your ability to get away... and the runner is still hot on your heels, working its way through the mess, snapping its jaw like a shark.
Simon comes out of nowhere. One second you're hacking away at the branches and the next, there's a massive, solid warmth at your back, standing between you and the snarling monster. He's facing away from you, brandishing a knife, engaged in a full fight with the runner, taking it to the ground in an attempt to get the blade into its temple. You watch mouth wide, frozen, holding your breath until the job is done, and Simon is hauling himself upwards, pulling you into his arms before stepping back to look you over.
You burst into tears. You've always told them, you're not for this kind of world. You're too gentle, too sensitive. You're a painter, for fucks sake. Not a killer. You're too soft to survive.
They say it doesn't matter. That you can be as soft as you want, because you have them, and they'll be the killers. They'll be the hard ones.
"Did it get you? Let me see, c'mon-" He checks your arms, your neck, the tear on your shirt but finds nothing. "Alright, you're alright." He's telling you, and himself, relief exhaling from his body with each syllable. "You're alright, darling. I've got ya. Come here." He holds you tight, rubbing your back, kissing your cheek, your forehead until you're calm, breathing deeply and wiping your face.
You believe the worst has passed, until you blink up at him, and see the blood on his neck.
The bite.
"We need to make a plan."
"We're nae makin' a bloody plan." Johnny hisses, and Simon closes his eyes like he's tired. "We keep goin'. We'll make it to the rendezvous with Price and they'll have a solution. We dinnae even know how fast it spreads."
Simon lets loose a sigh, heavy with exhaustion. With the toll that this life has become. With the weight, of everything. He tucks you into his body, wrapping his other arm around Johnny, and holds the two of you close. Tightly. Tighter than he ever has before.
"Alright."
The next morning, everything is different.
You woke up last, fire still barely smoldering, little energy bar on the ground next to you. The guys sleeping bags were already rolled up, stacked neatly with Simon's pack, and the long gun that Johnny carries.
But they were nowhere to be found.
Confused, you slid free, stretching with a silent groan, scanning your surroundings until you spot them on the edge of the woods, locked together on their feet, Johnny's face mashed against Simon's neck, strong arms holding him close.
"What's going on?" The question comes out confused when you get close, and Johnny pulls away with wet eyes, hands shaking. What's happening? Why are they both crying? Fear screams through your body, red alert systems firing up as your brain struggles to put all the pieces together.
"Simon-" Johnny begins, but stops abruptly, eyes slamming shut, lips pressed together in agony.
"'m not feelin' too well." Simon explains gently. "You and Johnny are gon’ start on ahead, and 'm gonna stay here for a while." Something, something logical, something smart, is shouting at you from the back of your mind but you shove it away, opting for delusion instead.
"Okay, you're going to catch up though, right? You said. We'll find-" You frowned, looking from him to Johnny as a sick feeling grew in your stomach. "Johnny?"
“Look at me.” Simon combs through your hair with trembling fingers, unsteady for the first time in your entire existence. “I love you, darling. I love you so, so much.”
“S-stop, we're supposed to stay together, you- you said-“
“You have to go with Johnny now, okay? He’s gonna take care of you.” He jerks you forward, closed mouth pressing against your forehead. "I love you."
“No, Si.” You sob, fingers curled in his vest. “You have to come with us. You have to, we’ll fi-find a cure, they’ll be help, somewhere.”
“Johnny.” He chokes, and a strong arm wraps around your waist, Johnny’s heavy, tearful breathing echoing just above your ear. Someone works your fingers free, pulling your hand away but not letting go, holding onto you like a lifeline.
You look up between him, to his face, to Simon’s and realize. They’ve already said goodbye.
Simon strokes the back of his fingers down Johnny’s cheek, tears dripping down his own.
“I love you both, more than anything. More than life.” He squeezes your hand, rubbing a thumb over the back of your knuckles, and then steps away, pulling the handgun from the holster on his thigh. "Take care of each other."
"NO!" you scream, but Johnny is dragging you backwards like a rag doll, away from where Simon stands in clearing, gaze never breaking from the two of you, face wet with tears. "Johnny!"
"Darling-" he chokes out amidst a sob. "Shhh, please. Please." He begs you to be quiet, to hush, but you can't, you can't stop screaming, or fighting him, trying to get back to Simon, to reunite your family, to stay together. You scream and scream until Johnny’s hand claps over your mouth, his own words clogged by his cries, pleading and begging until he's cutting off your oxygen with a desperate apology and lifting you over his shoulder like dead weight.
The last thing you hear before you lose consciousness is the sound of a gunshot.
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maris-medley · 7 months
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Messing With Remnant: BTC AU Bit - Part 1/3
Page Count: 5
Word Count: 788
Author’s Note: Hi hello hi hello HIIIII
I’m finally writing something for this AU. Finally. Fucking finally. Oh I’m so ill.
Idk if the events described in these little oneshots will actually happen but for now their purpose is simply to showcase the dynamics among the characters. For actual canon BTC characters, I’m gonna try to stay as true to canon as possible with what little info I can get. As for River, the relationships between her and the canon characters are.. headcanon?? I think??? Idk.
Also yes I do mention River having games on her phone and I’m just gonna give an explanation for that now cause it’s not much of a spoiler lmao: she does NOT have any kind of internet or signal. The most she can do is use her notes app and listen to already-downloaded music. And play the tons. And tons. And tons. And tons did I mention TONS of no-wifi-required games she’s got on her phone. So yeah she may or may not use that to distract Tom every so often when she and Springtrap embark on their mischievous little evil terrible endeavors.
(I swear I have an explanation for Tom being able to interact with objects she gives him I will talk about that within either the second or third part).
But yeah BTC Springtrap has infected my brain and I will never forgive @skeletoninthemelonland for that. /lh /j
All BTC characters as well as the general story belong to them ofc so please follow them I love BTC and their art and they’re a very cool person :33
Also skeleton TELL SPRINGTRAP TO START PAYING REMNANT TAX FOR INFECTING MY BRAIN. IF IT’S GOING TO ROT AWAY HE SHOULD GIVE ME FINANCIAL COMPENSATION!! /lh /hj
Okay anyways uhhhh hope you guys enjoy this!! :3
***
Pure energy.
That’s what it looked like to her, anyway—it was the only way she could think to describe it—even though she already knew from the start that this would go much deeper than that. She’d have been shocked if Springtrap of all people knew exactly what it was, though, let alone be able to articulate it in a way another person could understand.
She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but she was almost drawn to it, having recalled a vague, childhood memory of fire, how it pulsated and flicked around wildly despite being contained within the constricting wick it was lit upon.
Whatever this energy was: it reminded her of that.
Unlike fire, looking at it sort of hurt her eyes…
“What are you doing?”
She blinked, flinching back to reality. Without realizing it, she’d begun to reach out to it. “Uh…”
That was all she could muster. Springtrap rolled his eyes and lightly smacked her hand away.
“You didn’t hear a word I said,” he sighed irritably. “Did you?”
“You were talking?”
He smacked his right hand against his eyes, grumbling to himself. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Absolutely not,” River replied without missing a beat, flashing a grin. “You should know this by now.”
“Well, what I was trying to say,” Springtrap said, taking a step toward… whatever it was and lowering his hood. “That this is what I mentioned yesterday: remnant.”
“I mean, I guess I see why you’re so obsessed with it now,” she shrugged, lowering the hood of her cape, as well. “It’s kinda pretty.”
“Oh, yes!!” Springtrap exclaimed, suddenly in a weirdly sing-song voice drawling with sarcasm every syllable. “Because I’m obviously dedicating my life’s work to this substance just because it ‘looks pretty’!!”
He paused, then said, “Stop taking me for some moronic, shiny-object-obsessed kleptomaniac!”
“...I mean I was tryna be nice by not mentioning your crazy hoard ‘o metal parts, but—”
“Moving. On.”
River snickered to herself before turning back to the remnant. “Yeah, yeah. So… what is it, again?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, to which she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “That isn’t the important part yet, anyway; what’s important is what I- we can do with it.”
“Skip to the part where ya actually elaborate on somethin’ for once, please,” River interrupted. “I don’t know how long my games are gonna distract Tom and co. for.”
Springtrap heaved a pointlessly dramatic sigh once more, shaking his head. “Fine, whatever. We use it to generate power; that’s the most basic the explanation can get, at least. But I take as much as I can to use for… research purposes.”
“Real convincing, Spring,” River said, wearing a sarcastic smirk.
“I thought I told you not to call me that.”
“I won’t hesitate to get Tom to start saying ‘Springle’ again.”
Springtrap went back to the subject at hand, but his eye twitched rapidly. River thought he’d pop a vein, if… well, if he had any that still worked.
“Based on what I currently know about remnant—albeit my knowledge is a bit limited—I have a theory that it may help you.” He paused again, absentmindedly scratching the side of his head. “Though I can physically interact with it just fine, I’m unsure what sort of effect it would have on actual, living matter.”
“Is this your lame attempt at convincing me not to touch it just ‘cause you want it?”
“Of course I want it,” Springtrap scoffed. “But I’m being serious, kid! I don’t know enough to just let you grab it out of the air right when it appears!”
“Then why did you bring me along?!”
“Because you need to know about it if you have any hope of returning to wherever you came from!”
Out of spite, River glowered up at him, holding eye-contact as she reached her hand out and grabbed the remnant, clutching it in her hand as tightly as she possibly could.
It burned. It was as if she’d shoved her hand into actively boiling water. She couldn’t take her hand away from it, because it’d already faded from her grasp. Not that she ever had been, but the feeling traveled through her veins as if she’d been bitten by a snake that wouldn’t retract its fangs, or struck by lightning with a metal rod in hand. This was about how she’d imagined it at least.
She couldn’t even scream. Her voice was caught in her throat. The tears that streamed down from her eyes stung her skin. All she could do was stand there, but even that became too much, and her knees buckled under her weight.
All noise dulled, the last of them she could only just barely make out being Springtrap yelling her name.
***
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growling · 23 days
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you know what. you know what. watching bsd since I heard so much about it (mutual osmosis (hi)) yet absolutely nothing at the same time. like who the hells this dazai guy and whys he kinda..... anyway episode 1
so sad how atsushi died of starvation in the first 5 minutes. guess show's over....exit theatre.
"you should kill yourself NOW" the hell did this guy do be declared public enemy number one of all orphanages. how many did he burn
atsushi's out for fucking BLOOD i wanna see him fail cringely and die of an infection curled up under a juniper bush. why does he run like that
is that the. dazai jumpscare
i knew this man for like 2 minutes and i desire him carnally
jesus fucking christ i need his pussy so bad. i am going to fuck the screen. i need to do unspeakable things to/for this dazai guy
not even listening to whatever they're saying im just hyperventilating over the prettyboy before me i could treat you so good dazai. i don't care about your morals or potential atrocities dazai pPLEASE just let me fucking hit. pick me. pick me. PICK ME
supernatural detectives AGAIN?
he did the =D !!!!!!!!
i don't think im in the right headspace to watch this scene while dazai backshots on my mind rotting my brain preventing me from forming critical thoughts or acknowledging reality. good lord this scene that should have been m
i too love bullying children for their subpar grind and googoogaga mentality
he did the
..........ooo is he the tiger. I also believed his story was questionable never trust an orphan
furry
although on further inspection..... oh no im sensing some vivia similiarities in dazai which might DRASTICALLY decrease his attractiveness to me if it keeps up..............
"im not into hugging men" oh fuck off ill fucking make you im going to make you die a crack addict and drop your corpse in a pigpen go fuck yourself guess im not allowed to have anything huh. my way or the highway boy pick one. this show fucking sucks i hate you
nevertheless. i will carry on as usual
dazai kill yourself
i will fucking stab you beat you or hurt you in some way. i will destroy your life i will render you unable to look another man in the eye ever again
go fuck yourself. not like i care. i don't care stop i don't know what you're talking about i DO NOT care im not. im not. im gonna break that dazai fucknut's femurs in a cold cruel non-erotic way he's not even that pretty im over it. im over us.
im gonna fucking shred him
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god-is-a-dyke · 1 year
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Epidemiology Is The Best Episode Of Community And Here Is Why
I should have posted this around Halloween, but let’s be honest Epidemiology transcends time of year. It is and always will be the most episode of all time.
Yes, I recognize this is a bold statement considering some other pretty amazing episodes (Remedial Chaos Theory being the most obvious contender here). I will say I’m biased in a few different ways. However, i have 9 pages of notes about this episode and goddamnit if I’m not going to share them.
(i’ll put this under a cut because it will get long and i’m not sorry but i do respect people’s scrolling pleasure)
As someone growing up in the early 2000s/2010s, I was not immune to the craze of zombie entertainment. I watched The Walking Dead, Zombieland, and 28 Days Later. I played Left4Dead and the Telltale Walking Dead games. I read zombie apocalypse survival guides for fun.
However, let’s take a second to understand the risk Community undertook here. This is a sitcom that follows the day to day life of these characters we know and love. To drop them into an apocalyptic world requires finesse. There have to be real stakes, but we don’t want to lose too much. The writers have crafted this story that doesn’t rely on “it was a dream” or other tacky fake outs. So, let’s see how they do this.
1. THE LORE  
pt 1 Infection
- “A rabies related pathogen causing hyperaggression”
A logical explanation for an illogical occurrence. With this one phrase, Rich grounds us in a reality where a disease like this could actually occur. All it would take is the right mutation of a certain virus strain.
A systemic infection must be transferred to a host and then spread throughout the body. A zombie bite does this by infecting the tissue and bloodstream. But, viruses can also spread through things such as our gastrointestinal tract. The bite is going to spread to the bloodstream much faster, hence the shorter incubation time; the early cases are due to the consumption of the tainted “army rations”.
Now what makes this infection so special? The other key to making this work in universe is maintaining a sliver of humanity in our zombies. They are who they were -- Annie studying, Jeff texting no body, Chang trying to kiss Shirley, and even Leonard turning away from Shirley after she intimidates him. The important thing is there’s still something to come back to. These aren’t rotting bodies of the undead, they’re still our favorite characters who hold their personalities, but now they’re just uninhibited (and crave human flesh).
pt 2 The Army
The events at Greendale on Halloween night are kept contained, by no accident. But it’s the extent to which it’s contained is unsettling to say the least.
- The Army Knew About The Taco Meat
This whole thing was supposed to be contained from the beginning, hence the warning label. But it begs the question, why was it available at the Army Surplus Store? How was the Dean able to to buy it in the first place?
- “The army’s gonna be here in 6 hours”
So here’s where it get’s fucked up. Rich says because of the fevers caused by the virus within 3 hours the infected will suffer brain damage and in another 3 they’ll be dead. Add it up and what do you get?
The army intends for everyone to infect each other and die off, and to simply come in clean up the remains of Greendale Community College. The Dean locks everyone in the school. They restrict the phone lines so nobody can call local emergency responders. At 6 hours on the dot, the army arrives and -- if you watch very carefully before they discover uninfected -- the man behind the leader of the response starts to pull a gun on the Dean: “The Only Witness”.
Once the uninfected are discovered they move to “Plan B” which is staging a mass roofie and wiping everyone’s memories of that night. Their initial plan is to just let everyone die. And I think most of us who have lived the past couple years in America will agree that this is..... quite on brand for the American Government.
All of this grounds the episode in our established world. A world of chaos, yet grounded in reality. This makes the episode possible. It changes the game of the zombie apocalypse media, perfect for a one off episode in a sitcom.
But I’m only getting started.
2. Character Progression/Dynamics
Despite the Special Episode vibes, this episode still moves the story along and stays true to the characters. 
- Pierce and Starburns
Yeah uh... duh. There’s no other way a zombie apocalypse would start.
- Jeff and Britta
It’s later revealed that they’re secretly hooking up at this point, so their banter at the beginning of the episode establishes a flashback point. It’s also a point of stasis. We’re used to seeing Jeff and Britta poke around at each other, so we have this sense of familiarity to begin before the world literally falls apart.
- Rich and Britta
If there’s anyone in the group deluded enough to think they’d be the exception to getting the virus, it’s these two.
Rich is the most knowledgeable on the virus, without him they would all fail. Therefore, he thinks this knowledge makes him immune. He’s already served his purpose, however, so he no longer gets this immunity.
Britta... This doesn’t need much explaining. She puts up a façade. She thinks she can do more than she can. She thinks she is doing more than she is. But deep down, she’s lost and scared. She’s going to lose herself if she continues this hubris. This is just another example of this.
- Shirley and Chang
This could only happen during the end of days.
They find their common ground in the face of death. This sets up the arc for the rest of the season. Another roadblock for Shirley and Andre, conflict between Troy and Pierce, and more of Chang’s story.
- Annie
Listen man, Annie does the best she can to help, and is taken out through no fault of her own. But hey at least she gets the best shot in the episode. That window shot gets me every time.
Her nursing furthers her whole crush on Rich thing, and also is a smaller version of the healthcare role she plays again during the Pillows and Blankets war.
- Jeff
He tries to take up the leadership position in the basement, but ultimately that falls to Troy. Jeff claims to be so successful in life because he suppresses himself and focuses on outwards appearance. His obsession with his appearance leads to his demise. He opens the door because he doesn’t want to dirty his suit. He complains about Banana Rich stretching out his suit jacket as he’s dying. He refuses to engage in the “nerdy” end of the world antics. He’s still living in reality, but the apocalypse requires some degree of accepting the insanity and leaning into it.
Again, we have to remember these are the characters we know and love. We have to know they’ll be safe, but still worry about them. The show has to continue from here; even though their memories get wiped, this had to mean something.
But, wait. Someone is missing...
3. The Troy And Abed Of It All
Okay, so let’s just acknowledge right off the bat that these two are in love. Cool? Now we can move on.
Without Troy and Abed, this episode doesn’t work.
- This Is The Culmination Of Troy’s Early Character Development
This is Troy finally letting go of his jock persona, finally not worrying about how others view him. This parallel’s Jeff’s journey in this episode, which is why there’s such an emphasis on Jeff’s $600 suit and his texting. Troy has to see that in the face of death none of that is going to matter or save him. After this, Troy stops worrying as much: we get the blanket fort, the trampoline, his 21st birthday. He goes from a nerd to a jock and back to a nerd again.
He uses his jock persona as a safety blanket. He has come a long way since the pilot, but his anxieties and insecurities are so deeply rooted that they come out kicking sometimes.
- Trying To Ground Abed In Reality
Abed is the exact opposite of Jeff, Troy stands between them.
Abed is focused on the idea of saving the world by lowering the thermostat. He relinquishes power, and lets Jeff convince him that it won’t work. And hey, maybe if they had tried it then it wouldn’t have. Ultimately, he was right and the unreality was key, but the next 5 minutes are pivotal to Jeff and Troy’s story.
- Troy’s Voice After Leaving Abed
Look, I know we already set aside their love for each other but we can’t just fucking ignore this. It breaks me. He’s so broken. He just left behind his best friend. They just had a fight and then Abed sacrificed himself for Troy. Because no matter what he’s never going to not believe in Troy. 
- Abed Is The Only One Who Can Get Troy To Be A Nerd Once And For All
When Abed gives up the illusion of the fantasy and focuses on escaping, Troy takes up that torch. He follows through with Abed’s plan, but Abed’s plan only works if you don’t bind yourself to the laws of reality.
- If Abed Was With Him, Troy Wouldn’t Have Gone Back In
This might be a stretch. Maybe they would have come up with another plan. Or found out the army’s plan.
But seeing Abed sacrifice himself for Troy after everything, Troy has nothing more to lose. That’s his other half, and he has to at least try to save him (and everyone else)
- Confronting The Zombies
The costume does help slow the zombies down to some extent, but it’s impractical and eventually given up. Troy has to give into the fantasy, but he can’t stray too far from reality. He needs both to survive.
Troy punches every single one of his friends. Except Abed. The only person who could get him there was the only person who could stand in the way of his success.
He still pushes through. Acknowledging Jeff once more. Both Abed and Jeff pulling him to their extremes in one way or another. But combined, they give him the push to complete his journey. Troy truly has the Heart of a Hero.
- Aftermath
There’s so much in the way they look at each other after being bandaged up. Troy and Abed know something is different. They might not know exactly what happened, but they know it was big. Something has changed. They have changed. But what’s important is they’re together. They survive when they work together.
This is Troy finally letting go and being the person he truly is inside. Thanks to Abed.
CONCLUSION
Maybe I’m biased. Maybe I’ve rambled on for hours. Maybe no one will ever read this.
Maybe I just prefer episodes that focus on Troy and Abed.
Maybe I just had an intense love for zombie stories as a kid and it’s bleeding into adulthood.
BUT
This episode is just so special to me for so many reasons. I really do think it’s one other the best episodes of Community and honestly of a lot of tv shows I’ve ever watched.
It’s an action filled episode with an ABBA Soundtrack. What more could you want?!
And most important of all........ the cat in the basement.
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COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 3]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.
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📝: ERICAAA!!! FRICKIN FINALLY!! Less important note, but when writing about Y/n, El and Max, I wrote "the three friends" and autocorrect literally changed "friends" to "fruits". Yelmax confirmed 💀
||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||
"It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder's Office," Robin reports, unfurling what looked to be a familiar layout on the break room table. "Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints."
"Not bad," Dustin smirks from her left.
"So this is us," she points to a familiar-looking room before gesturing across the map. "Scoops, and this is where we wanna get."
"Yeah, I don't really see a way in," Steve mumbles from his seat at the table.
"There's not. If,"
She rips away a layer of the blueprint, revealing a vastly complicated map of air ducts, pipelines, and detailing that made up Starcourt.
"you're talking exclusively about doors."
Dustin looks at her with excitement growing in his eyes. "Air ducts!"
"Exactly," she smirks, making her way to the whiteboard to retrieve the magic marker. "Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room and these air ducts lead all the way" she circles the secret room in question, drawing one, interrupted line right back to, "here."
Dustin and Steve finally tear their eyes away from the map and follow Robin's mischievous eye. All the way to the air duct tucked away in the far corner of the Scoops Ahoy break room.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
To their surprise, a screwdriver had been harder to find than a ladder but soon enough Steve had managed to reach the air vent and unscrew it from the wall. But as he stood here now, peering down into the vent he quickly realized they were now facing yet another obstacle.
"Flath'ligh'?" Steve asked, finally removing the screwdriver from his mouth and shaping it for the small torchlight Dustin had waiting. "Thank you,"
The flashlight turns on with a tiny click and a soft yellow light bounces down the narrow metal tunnel, enunciation the frown on Steve's face.
"Yeah, I don't know man, I don't know if you can fit in here, it's like... super tight."
"I'll fit," Dustin smirks. "Trust me. No collarbones, remember?"
"Uh, excuse me?" Robin asks.
Steve jumps down from the ladder, turning to Robin as Dustin begins the climb and gives her a nod.
"Oh, he's uh, he's got so disease," he frowns thoughtfully, racking his brain as he tries to recall the word. "It's chrydo... um... something, yeah I don't know. He's missing bones and stuff, he can bend like Gumbo."
"You mean... Gumby?"
"I'm pretty sure it's Gumbo," he snorts.
"Just shut up and push me!" Comes Dustin's muffled voice from the vents.
By now he had wormed himself halfway in, his bottom half sticking out of the wall and still propped up on the latter while they had been talking.
"Okay,"  Steve huffed, motioning knowingly to the kid's feet and turned away from Robin.
She watched with a tired, lazily bemused expression as Steve grabbed a less than sturdy hold of the kid's feet and attempted to push.
"Not my feet, dumbass, push my ass!"
"Uh, what?"
"TOUCH MY BUTT! I DON'T CARE!" Came Dustin's impatient scream from the walls.
With a heavy grimace, Steve hesitantly began pushing against Dustin's rear end and his muffled anger grew louder.
"I'm pushing!" Steve argued.
"PUSH HARDER!" Dustin shrieks as he attempts to inch further into the metal vents. "You're playing with my legs!"
"I'm not playing, I have terrible footing!"
"Come on!"
Steve finally makes it to the top of the latter, Dustin's legs bunched together over his shoulders and locked under his arm as their voice continued to shout over one another.
"I'm gonna just shove you, ready?"
"Just shove me?"
"One, two..."
"Shit!"
"That work?"
"One more time,"
Robin rolls her eyes, finally turning away when she hears the sudden rapid chimes of the customer bell out front and all too familiar patron.
"Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck!"
Through the partition window, Robin meets eyes with none other than Erica Sinclair who flashes her an exaggerated salute and rings the bell knowingly.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Laughter and joyful screams filled the chlorine-soaked air, the smell of the pool lingering with sunblock was strong enough it wafted all the way to the parking lot where the majority of the Party now stood at the Hawkins pool. It looked quite different than it had the day before when Y/n, Max, and El had last been, but the tension weighing down the atmosphere seemed just as heavy and ever-present.
The storm had of course long since lifted, and the sun was now beating down heavily on their backs as they took shelter behind a Rust Red AMC Hornet, all eyes across the lot on the occupant in the lifeguard chair.
Billy.
He was squished underneath the bright red beach umbrella, hidden underneath a baseball cap, thick shades, a long-sleeved sweater, and a white beach towel draped over his legs where they poked out into the sun. He was completely covered.
"I don't know," Max begins, peering through the group's binoculars. "He looks pretty normal to me,"
"Normal?" Lucas scoffs. "How many times have you seen him with a shirt on?"
Y/n smiles weakly from where she stands in between him and Will. Max lowers the binoculars, conceding a wince.
"I mean, it's a little weird,"
"More than a little," Mike nods. "He was in a tub with ice. The Mind Flayer likes it cold. Plus everything El saw—"
"But he's lounging at the pool," Max argues, doubtfully. "Which is like, the least Mind Flayer thing ever,"
"Not necessarily," Will says, pulling everyone's attention. "The Mind Flayer likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me. It's like... like you're dormant. And then, when he needs you,"
All eyes return to Billy.
"...you're activated."
Y/n gulps, shifting on her feet from where she had previously stood rooted to the spot. Ever since that dreaded Halloween night the previous year, nothing seemed to have been the same. The Mind Flayer had set his sights on Will, and in turn, her. Slowly but surely, he had infected all of their lives as he had the town of Hawkins; spreading his rot and poison, and his hate. She could still feel it sometimes; the pain of Will's nails raking into her face and leaving behind the faded scar that had already long since disappeared.
Her eyes dart back through the fence at the suspicious-looking lifeguard and her insides twisted further into a sickening knot. The thought of the Mind Flayer's possible return was enough to drain the color from her face and leave a chill in the humid, sticky summer air. Her mind was running rapid with fear but the sound of Max's voice was enough to return her to earth.
"Okay, so we just..." she shrugs, looking back over towards her brother. "wait until he gets activated."
"No," Mike says with the shake of his head. "What if he hurts someone?"
"Or kills someone?" Will counters, and the Wheeler boy nods.
"We can't take that chance. We need to find out if he's the host,"
"Well, how do we do that?" Lucas asks.
The Party falls silent. The weight of the air growing heavier and heavier as it dawns on them. And one by one, each pair of eyes trickle over to the only present Henderson sibling in the Party. Her head is hung, propped-up against the hood and when she senses the eyes on her she straightens, breathing a sigh. But Will was already shaking his head.
"What? No, no way," he says to Mike and the others, Y/n already turning to him. "No, Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea,"
"I don't like it either," Y/n fretted. "but it's our best chance. The Mind Flayer hates me, and I can push his limits. It's the fastest way."
"And if, by some random chance, Billy isn't the host?" Will countered gently. "He'd find out about you,"
Y/n didn't have a reply for that. Truthfully, she didn't know whether to be relieved or angered he had cornered her. She just stood there, frowning at the concrete sidewalk biting her lip thoughtfully. She tried to think of a way to use her abilities subtly, but all her experience with heat came from seismic blasts or concentrated bursts from her hands. If she attempted that on Billy, he would surely know it.
"There's gotta be another way," Mike cuts in. "I mean, a safe way that doesn't risk you getting hurt or discovered."
Y/n and Will - even El - shoot him a funny look and he shifts under the sudden attention, guiltily.
"What about the sauna?" Lucas says, lighting up.
"Huh?"
"Yeah, it's perfect!" He grins, stepping out from around the car and motioning for Will and Mike. "Come on,"
Seemingly catching onto Lucas's idea, Mike wastes no time in following. And Will hesitantly steps away, sending Y/n and his friends an apologetic shrug.
"Where are you going?" El called after them, exasperated.
"Sorry! Boys only!" Mike throws over his shoulder.
Max scowls after them. "Seriously?!"
"Just trust us!" Lucas cries.
"We'll be back," Will shrugs again. "... I guess."
The three friends sigh, throwing less than impressed looks at the retreating boys. Privately, Y/n wondered if Mike stood any chance of harm just from her glaring at him in this moment. She hadn't shared these feelings with anyone, but since reuniting with Will something had been troubled Ling him and he wouldn't say what. She could spot it right away, the shift in demeanor but she knew it was something different from the return of the Mind Flayer somehow. And she believed it had something to do with Mike.
He was acting differently around him. He had been for some time now, as she had with Max and even El but this was different. Something had happened, and because Will was, well, Will, he was clearly trying to put aside for the sake of everyone's safety. Y/n couldn't really blame him there, but she wished he would open up to her. Tell her what was wrong.
And she wished more than anything she could fix whatever Mike had clearly broken.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
"All we gotta do is wait until the pool closes and everyone leaves," Lucas begins, guiding his friends through the first layer of the men's locker rooms. "And then get him from here..."
He steps forward, quickly ripping open the secondary door. The three boys scurry inside, and Lucas's friends quickly seem to catch on to his plan and a small smile grows on Will's face.
"And get him into here," Lucas eagerly rips open the sauna door, expecting to see nothing but steam but his luck had run out.
Five sweaty adult men in towels sat packed in the sauna like sardines, scowls on their faces for the three party members who interrupted their steam. "Hey! Shut the door!"
-"Come on, kid!"
-"Shut it!"
Lucas finally broke from his stupor and slammed the door shut, shuddering.
"I think I just threw up in my mouth,"
Will nodded with a grimace, but shook it off when his eyes landed on the wall beside the door.
"The controls!"
Mike's still bulging, haunted eyes finally broke away from their zoning out and jumped to the wall where Will was pointing. His face lit up.
"We can control from the outside, it's perfect!"
"Do you think it'll get hot enough?" Will asks, feeling more and more relieved by the second. "Like, "Y/n" hot?"
His friends immediately stopped, looking to him with a deadpan expression. Will scoffed at them. "You know what I mean" he snarked, not in the mood though he was trying to ignore the hint of a blush creeping up on his skin.
"Nevermind that," Lucas says. "Look right, here, 220 degrees. That's definitely enough."
"Okay, so we just need to figure out how to get him into here," Will nods towards the sauna door.
"Precisely."
"Then we lock him in," Mike says.
Lucas nods. "-heat him up,"
And Will manages another somewhat relieved smile. "-and no matter what happens, we'll know for sure."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Erica descends from the latter, the flashlight in her hands flicking off with a loud click as she strides up to the break room table where her recruits stood waiting. The group had taken a calculated risk I confiding in the young girl, but she was smart and demanded the information and why they needed to know if she could fit into the air duct in the back room. So here they stood, waiting with anxious breath for her verdict.
"Yeah, I don't know," she says, propping herself up on the edge of the table rather unimpressed.
"You don't know if you can fit?" Dustin asks.
"Oh, I can fit. I just don't know if I want to,"
"Are you claustrophobic?" Robin tries.
Amused, Erica gives the young woman a pitiful laugh. "I don't have phobias."
"Okay, well," Steve begins with a shrug. "What's the problem?"
"The problem is I still haven't heard what's in this for Erica,"
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Steve slides another banana boat ice cream float across the table, joining the already plentiful dairy banquet laid out for the Sinclair girl. She merely gave it a single, disinterested glance and slid it back.
"More fudge please,"
Nobody said anything. And Steve just stared back at the table with tired, glazed-over eyes before Erica sent him a dismissive wave.
"Go on,"
He gave a sigh, and left the booth with the Banana boat in hand, and retreated to the counter. Robin took that as her cue and pulled out the marked-up blueprints she had at her side.
"Alright, you see this?" She points from the circle marked Scoops Ahoy and trail connecting over the flipped map. "This is the route you're gonna take. Then we just wait until the last delivery goes out tonight then you knock out the grate. Jump down. Open the door."
"Then you find out what's in those boxes?" She asks.
"Exactly,"
"And you say this guard is armed?"
"Yes," Dustin quickly nods. "But he won't be there,"
"And booby traps?"
"Booby traps?" Robin echoed.
"Lazers, spikes in the wall,"
Robin couldn't help but give a small laugh, but Erica was all too serious. She turned to the two with a serious look.
"You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child endangerment."
"We'll be in radio contact with you the whole time-"
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" Erica stops her. "Child. Endangerment."
Robin sighs, ignoring the knot wanting to twist in her stomach. She knew she was right, and Robin supposed she just didn't want to admit to herself what they were asking not only of themselves but the young girl.
"Erica?" Dustin began. "Hi, uh... We think these Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm. Don't you love your country?"
"You can't spell America without Erica," she shrugs, taking a long and loud sip from her complimentary Scoops Shake.
Dustin just blinks at her response and concedes with a nod. "Uh... yeah. Oddly, that's uh... weirdly true, so... so! Don't do this for us! Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man. Do this for America, Erica."
Erica, who had been slurping her drink through her straw throughout his entire speech, finally finished it off and shivered, sending him a smirk. "Ooh! I just got the chills."
Dustin smiled proudly.
"Oh, yeah," she quickly corrects, her smile falling. "From this float. Not your speech."
His smile falls right off his face.
"You know what I love most about this country?" Erica began. "Capitalism. Do you know what capitalism is?"
Both Robin and Dustin mumble a 'yeah'.
"It means this is a free market system, which means people get paid for their services depending on how valuable their contributions are. And this seems to me that my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So-"
Robin and Dustin share a worried look.
"-you want my help? This U.S.S. Butterscotch better be the first of many. And I'm talking free ice cream for life,"
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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dystovian · 3 years
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The Last of Us: How to Disappear Completely
Chapter 3: Burrow
Summary: The aftermath of death is never nice, especially with the end of the world. You felt you knew how to deal with it, and that’s by moving on as quick as possible. Sawyer, takes this personally, and lets you have a piece of their mind.
Pairing: Joel/Reader, Joel x Reader (Future)
Warning(s): Language, Talks about Death and Suicide, Arguing, Injuries.
A/N: ok one more chapter i think and joel comes into play! thank u for reading!!
Tags: @hrk-fic-recs
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Often, before your sister had disappeared, you wouldn’t really bother thinking about the past. You had your future right in front of you, because for all you knew, you and her would be just fine. But, the second you realized she wouldn’t return, and was likely rotting in some field or some building, or running around Infected...it’s all you could think about.
You’d think about the way you grimaced at melted red popsicles and how they stuck to your fingers, coating your skin with red juice. You’d think about how you’d fallen off your bike, not wearing any knee guards and crying out in the street due to the skin on your kneecaps peeling away. You’d mostly think about luxuries, stuff you’d never experience again. Stuff that were so far away from this life, that had left a mark on you.
Something that never left, though? Was grief. Grief followed every living thing with a heartbeat and snuck up on it every chance it got. Grabbed you by the roots of your hair and tossed you to the ground. Grief, which seemed to have a festival just about every second of every day now, with the way things fell apart. Exploding into millions of sparks just like the fireworks on the beach that day.
This was evident now, what with the way the young teenager in the room across from you hasn’t stopped crying, even within their sleep their tears are evident, dripping over their nose and onto the sheets. Evident, shown in the way your shoulders shook violently as the body of a young girl whom you just saw yesterday lay behind you.
In the past, grief was more of a long time thing. Where you could sit in your room and cry all day after your cat had died. But now — with the world gone to shit — it’s different. Someone dies, you cry for a minute, maybe even not at all, then you suck it up. You get the fuck over it, and you move the hell on. Do what they couldn’t, survive, live for them.
Except, you haven’t. You’ve barely even bothered. Sometimes, though, you get this burst of energy. Telling you to go out on a run, get some supplies to help live just a little longer. But you can’t leave Sawyer, not when they’ve barely even spoken, and the last time they did, they made it quite clear of their feelings. Of the state of their mind since the loss of their sister.
“You’ve barely eaten your dinner, y’know.” You had said one night, windows covered with thick wool blankets, and candles lit along the house.
“Mhm.” They muttered, slumped in their chair, eyes staring at the food on their plate.
“Please...you’ve got to eat, Soy. It’ll kill you.” You said, placing your utensils on the wood, leaning forward.
“Awesome.” They scoffed, almost sliding the plate into your lap with the force of their hand.
“Seriously? Are you..” You’d paused in disbelief, “Are you seriously just gonna let yourself fucking starve to death? Sawyer, you need to listen to me. We’re gonna need more food soon, and if I’m going alone, you need to be fit enough to keep watch on this place. Oka-“ You stopped when Sawyer abruptly stood, hands clenched into fists on the wood of the dining room table, head hanging.
“You wanna go? Then fuckin’ go! I don’t give a shit if you leave me here and I certainly don’t care if Infected tear me to goddamn shreds.” They said, tears piling up upon their eyelids.
“You, you do not mean that,” You were standing now, chair almost falling with the force of your movement. Your eyes were wide, with eyebrows raised, shock filing through you.
“Oh, I meant every damn bit of that sentence.” They scoffed.
“Take it back.”
“I ain’t takin’ back sh-“ Their finger goes to point at you, and the second they do, it’s slapped away.
“Take it the fuck back! You listen to me, and you listen to me good. I am not, and I mean absolutely not, going to feel responsible for somebody else dying. I am sick and fucking tired of death, and I know for damn sure you are too. Hell, every last person is! But, and I hate to say this shit you, but you need to move on. You and I both know that’s what Ryan would want. So, take. It. The. Fuck. Back.” You were angry, of course you were. You loved the two of them, they were family to you, and with one of them gone you knew you couldn’t live after you lost the other.
“Well, have you ever stopped to think about what I fucking want? Ryan is dead! Ryan doesn’t have wants or needs or...or anything! I want to die! I don’t want to live anymore. Get that through your thick skull. And, for the love of all that’s ever been holy, quit actin’ like you knew us. You don’t, and won’t, know shit. You didn’t raise us, and you weren’t there when everything went to shit. We’re not your fuckin’ children. And we sure as shit ain’t your sister!” By the time they let it all out, you had sat back down and had taken the blow.
“That’s how it is, then? Hm?”
“Yeah. And quit telling me what I’m ‘supposed’ to do. I’ll move on when I damn well please, and you know what? Fuck you. You already movin’ on after we just pieced my sister back together and buried her in the backyard. The backyard, of some house, that we only knew for a year! She should’ve died old, with a family, or something! She...she should’ve died normally. Old age, or a stroke, or a fuckin’ heart attack...I don’t know! But instead, she got eaten alive, and blew her brains out before she could become one of those things! So don’t talk to me about moving on, when we both know there’s no moving on from that.” They were in front of you now, tears streaming over the red of their cheeks, face hot from anger.
Since then, you’ve barely spoken to the other. Choosing to stay quiet during dinner, which began happening less and less with your shortage of food. You finally came to Sawyer one day, and told them that you couldn’t stay here any longer. That the streets have more and more Infected every week, and the whole town is empty of food.
They agreed, nodding their head in silent agreement, eyes drawn away from your own.
2 0 2 5.
Illinois.
Ryan’s name hasn’t left either of your mouths. Not during dinner, not even in passing. Not even in your sleep, did either of you cry out her name and sob afterwards.
After everything that happened, you left the house. The room she died in was loud, almost frighteningly so, and filled with the phantom screams of her last moments. Something, that both you and her sister, couldn’t quite stand beside anymore. So, you left. Walked and walked and walked, barely talking to the other at first. And sure as hell keeping her name out of your mouth.
You didn’t say her name again until a group took you in, asked you about your past, and you delivered. Spilled your hearts content onto the plastic table in front of you, until you broke down, and the lovely couple in front of you — Alex and his wife, Amy — stopped you, rubbing their hands on your back.
Although you’ve been through hell and back these last six years, Ryan always lingered. You’d see her in the corpses that littered streets and the homes you’d spend a few nights in. See her in the way Sawyer carried themself, or spoke, or cried.
You didn’t forgive eachother, you rarely talked of that argument in the dining room that night. You simply opted to get the hell over it, if you don’t talk about it then I guess it just didn’t happen. And now, being taken in by this group that call themselves the Burrowers, the conversation is begging to be had.
Sawyer didn’t stay with you long, you shared a home for four days before they left, got their own place. And you haven’t seen them since.
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Heart of Stone {R.H.} [Pt 4]
Warnings: Mild Depictions of Injuries
Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader
Description: You didn’t agree with your brothers much. You didn’t like how they treated people or handled emotions and etcetera. But you could all agree that the Delancey’s were a proud family. A strong family. You didn’t get close to people, you didn’t show emotion, you didn’t let anyone have power over you, no matter what, because that made you weak. Except for the pretty newsboy with the foghorn voice and smart jokes, apparently.
A/N: don’t you love panicking over not updating in a while so you anxiously post one segment of an unfinished chapter because you don’t think you can finish this chapter soon enough and then you finish said chapter immediately afterwards and look like an idiot? i sure do!
You stood outside the deli awkwardly in the sweltering heat of New York summer, first aid kit stuffed clumsily under your arm. You couldn’t help but feel panicked – sure, Medda had given you the address and everything, but it wasn’t like she knew you were part of the family whose whole livelihood was based around scamming, screwing over and beating up newsies.
You swallowed heavily and steeled yourself – maybe you weren’t a Delancey anymore, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be tough.
When you opened the door, you felt the temperature drop. It was probably just the cooling system, but still, it freaked you out. Every single newsie was staring at you. Some looked angry, some shocked, a few of the younger ones looked downright terrified.
“Hey.” You said awkwardly, raising your hand in a little half-wave before quickly shoving it back down. One newsie narrowed his eyes at you viciously, twirling his slingshot in his hands.
“Whadda you want?”
You looked away and cleared your throat, holding up the first-aid kit in lieu of an answer.
“I saw, um...” You murmured. “I just thought you might need help.”
A low murmur spread around the room as the newsies muttered to each other, their gazes flicking to you suspiciously every so often.
“I can go...” You said quietly. “I just, um... I thought you might want- I dunno. I’ll go. Bye.”
You turned stiffly and was about to open the door to leave when-
“Ey, [Y/N]!”
You spun around frantically to see Race waving at you from across the deli.
“Thank God ya got out okay!” Race grinned as he all but sprinted across the deli and took you by the hand. You swallowed heavily as he led you through the shop, chatting the whole way. “I meant to check in at Medda’s, but, um – well, some shit’s been goin’ down, let’s just say. You doin’ okay, though? Medda treatin’ ya good?”
Oh, you were supposed to respond now. Okay.
“Um – Yeah. I suppose. She, um... She feeds me a lot.”
Race threw back his head and laughed.
“Yeah, that’s Medda? Real motha hen, she is.” Race chuckled. You frowned – something felt wrong. His laugh felt too loud, his smile too big. He felt... Fake. “’Ey, Dave, where’s Les?”
A lanky newsie with circular glasses grabbed Race’s wrist.
“You are not letting that near a kid.” He hissed, shooting you a panicked glance. “You got no idea what them Delancey’s are like!”
You felt your skin crawl at the way he said the name ‘Delancey’. You used to be so proud of the name – it wasn’t your name by birth, but ever since your parents had dumped you on Delancey Street, you and your brothers had dragged yourselves out of the gutters and decided to take it anyways. Because no matter how hard people tried to stomp you down, you could take it and turn it into something great. That’s what being a Delancey meant.
You wondered when the name ‘Delancey’ stopped being a beacon of hope and started feeling like a chain wrapped around your leg.
“This one’s different.” Race said coolly, but you still noticed the way he shifted his stance a little so he was blocking you ever so slightly. The Delancey part of you wanted to feel insulted – the rest felt... Fuzzy, in a way. Like a soft blanket had been draped over you. It was weird.
It was interesting.
“Are you insane?!” The spectacle kid spluttered. “The first day of the strike, you said-!”
“I know what I said, and I changed my mind!”
The two newsies glared at each other fiercely, puffing themselves up in that way teen boys did. The way your brothers did before they started to beat each other into submission, no matter how much you screamed at them to stop.
“It’s okay.” You said quickly, stepping in between the two. “I shouldn’t’ve come, I’ll go.”
Race looked at you with confusion and something that looked dangerously close to disappointment.
“Wh- No, [Y/N], it’s okay, we want you here-!”
“I sure as hell don’t!” Spectacle kid snapped. A few newsboys murmured in agreement, refusing to look you in the eye.
“Hey, it ain’t like they’re the one who-“
“Race, it’s okay.” You said firmly. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble, and if me being here is going to do that, then fine, I get that. I understand. So just...” You shoved your first aid kit into his arms. “Take the kit, if anyone needs first aid they can come to you. You’re the second, right?”
Race blinked from you to the kit.
“Well – yeah, but I-“
He looked desperately at the kit and then at the newsboys, all busted and broken like wooden dolls. It was then that you started to realize just how young Race was – barely older than you, really, and clearly not the eldest boy in their group. He shouldn’t be in a deli bandaging his friends like a soldier bandaging his squadron in the barracks, he was just a kid, a kid that was so clearly out of his depth that it hurt.
“Excuse me?”
A soft voice broke you out of your spiralling.
The new boy – the one Weasel tried to rip off, the right hand man who was basically the brains of this whole operation, the one who had jumped onto a cart and yelled so bravely and rallied the newsies together – was now looking at you with the most painfully hopeful expression you’d ever seen.
His eyes were puffy. Red around the corners. His nose looked pretty sore. If you looked closely, you could see the tear tracks marring his cheeks. You wondered how old this strike leader even was.
“You know first aid?” He said quietly, but his voice pitched high with hope and desperation.
“Um.” You mumbled. “Uh – yeah, I’d patch up my brothers every time they-“
The spectacled boy shot you a fierce glare.
“I know first aid.” You finished lamely.
“Can you set broken bones?”
You fought the urge to gasp. How badly did the cops hurt these kids, how many kids got arrested, how many kids are rotting in the Refuge right now, how many kids are going to die because of fat old men denying them basic human rights, how many how many how many-?!
“If you need me to.” You shrugged, glancing at spectacle boy from the corner of your eye.
“Great.” The new boy beamed. “My name’s Davey. Follow me.”
New Boy Davey took you by the wrist and tugged you to the back of the deli. You wondered why it felt less fuzzy than it had with Race.
“Les?” Davey said quietly as he leaned under one of the tables. “Les, you can come out, it’s okay...”
A kid crawled out from under the table with his arm in a sling that had been crudely fashioned out of a table cloth. You winced in sympathy, your heart aching when he sniffled quietly into his sleeve.
“Hey, kid.” You smiled as best you could, leaning down so you could make proper eye contact. “What’s your name?”
The kid looked up at his brother with wide, frightened eyes. Davey smiled gently and placed his hand on the boys head. It almost covered him entirely. He was so small...
“Les.”
“Well, Les,” you said in a tone that hopefully didn’t sound as forced as it felt. “You must’ve been pretty brave fighting those bulls, huh?”
Les bit his lip and shifted on his feet.
“I didn’t fight all that much...” He mumbled. “They mostly jus’ wailed on me... Hurt me real bad...”
“Well, take it from someone who’s taken a few beatings,” you smirked. “It takes a lot of strength to get your arm busted and keep on going. You’re a tough kid.”
His lips twitched into a tiny smile.
“I guess I’m kinda tough...”
“Definitely tough.” You grinned. “Now I’m gonna need you to hold still for me, okay? ‘Cause I’m gonna take off this sling, and that’s gonna move your arm a little and it’s probably gonna hurt. So be tough, yeah? Your brother’s right here, you can go to him if it hurts too much, okay?”
Les nodded slowly, though he still looked a little reluctant.
“Okay...”
“Good kid.”
You dug through your kit and managed to find a roll of gauze and two pieces of cloth. You winced. Good, but not enough.
“Everythin’ okay?” Race asked.
“I don’t have enough stuff.” You muttered. “Should’ve brought some sticks, I should’ve known someone would have a broken bone-“
“Hey, hey, s’okay.” Race said quietly, rubbing his hand down your back in a way that made your body stand on edge for a moment – you weren’t used to touch like this. “We can find ya some sticks. Got any idea how long they gotta be?”
“Long enough to go down his forearm. Not super thin, thick enough to take up the middle of the arm.”
“Gotcha. What else?”
“Ice. It won’t take the pain away but it’ll take down the swelling and numb it up a little so that we can put the splint on without it hurting too bad.”
“Right.” Race whistled sharply and nodded at a redhead perched on a table. “Albert, c’mon! You take ice, I’ll get sticks – Jacobi’s gotta have some ice in the back, yeah?”
“Hopefully.” Albert shrugged, hopping off the table and following dutifully.
They came back in almost no time at all, depositing the supplies at your feet. The ice was fine and went straight into the cloth you’d set aside to hold it, but one look at the sticks told you they were far too dirty to be put near a wounded arm like this – god knew the last thing you wanted was the kid to get an infection. The boys had clearly grabbed the only kindling they could find, which was sweet, but it wouldn’t help.
“Hey, you.” You tapped the redhead’s shoulder. “You got a knife?”
Albert nodded, retrieving a flick-knife from his pants pocket.
“Perfect.” You handed him the sticks. “Whittle these down, go with the grain. If the kid gets a splinter on top of this, it’ll hurt like a bitch and be a pain to remove. And make sure there’s no sharp corners, we don’t want him in any more pain.”
“Bossy.” Albert smirked and shot Race a pointed look. “Beginnin’ to see why you’s so popular.”
You frowned at his remark. You’d hardly describe yourself as popular in general, especially not with the newsies. Still, apparently his comment deserved a firm punch in the arm from Race, because that’s exactly what Albert got, much to his discontent.
“Hey, c’mon, man! I’s just statin’ the obvio-“
“Are you going to keep distracting me, or are you going to shut up and let me work?” You huffed, fixing him with a sharp glare. Albert grinned and lifted up his arms in mock surrender, and you couldn’t help but feel your agitation fade away a little. The laid back and teasing nature of the newsies bond felt... Brotherly felt like too much of a word. But wasn’t that what brotherly was supposed to mean? Friendly, fond, kind? That had never been what ‘brotherly’ was to you – at least, not with your brothers...
You shook your head and set to work on Les’ arm quickly enough – Race held the ice over his arm carefully while you undid the sling and set his arm into a splint with the newly whittled sticks and your roll of gauze.
“Okay...” You murmured quietly as you knotted the new, clean sling over Les’ shoulder. “Done.”
“Perfect.” Davey breathed a sigh of relief. “And that’ll heal fine?”
“All I can do is set it. He’s gonna need to keep it rested and make sure not to move it if you want it to heal properly.”
Les nodded obediently and shot you a wide smile.
“Thank you!”
You couldn’t help but melt a little. The kid had been so brave, barely even whimpering when you pressed the sticks against his wounded arm. You removed his hat to ruffle his hair, then put it back on him backwards just to make him laugh.
“You were real brave, kid. And, um.” You turned to Race and Albert awkwardly. “Thanks for your help.”
“Ah, ain’t no problem!” Albert grinned before Race could say anything. “Anythin’ for a pretty thing like you, right, Racer?”
Race stomped on his foot, hard.
“Man down!” Albert cried dramatically. “Mutiny! I’m hit! Save me, doc!”
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at their antics, a noise that made Race beam with delight.
“I think you’ll be just fine. Besides, I should probably be going now.” You tipped your hat at the newsboys and tried not to grimace at how loose it was. Morris had given it to you a while back; he’d shoved it on your head while you were walking home in January and muttered about how only an idiot walked around in the dead of winter without a hat. You compared that small show of affection, one that had meant so much to you at the time, to the newsies’ shows of affection – they showed their love for each other easily, slinging arms around each other, strong-arming each other into hugs, stuff like that... They didn’t have to hide their love behind insults or cruel words. The hat still meant a lot to you – you just wondered why your brothers, the people who were supposed to be there for you, had to constantly act like they didn’t love you at all.
“Been a pleasure.” You said quietly as you righted your hat back on your head. You tried not to make your disappointment too obvious – the last thing you wanted to do was guilt trip the newsboys into letting you stay. “And, um.” You gave Race an awkward punch to the shoulder, a far softer punch than any of the others your brothers had given you, or the ones you’d given them. “Nice seeing you, Racer.”
Race shot you a small smile. He reached up to thumb the spot where you hit his arm, and for a moment you worried that you’d hurt him, but the touch looked more... Fond than anything else.
“Actually,” a small voice piped up. “Could ya take a look at my wrist real quick? I can move it, but it’s real swollen, and it really hurts-“
“Yeah, and the cut on Finch’s arm’s lookin’ real messy-“
“Romeo’s eye’s still busted-“
Somehow, you wound up being shoved around the room, tending to each individual newsie and their injuries. While you had gained some of the newsies trust when you tended to Les and his injuries, some of the more sceptical newsies (specifically Specs) watched you cautiously. The part you should’ve found most annoying was Race hovering over your shoulder, glaring at any newsie who tried to stare you down or scare you away. You tried not to focus too hard on why you found it endearing instead.
“Okay,” you said slowly as you finished dabbing Romeo’s black eye. You tried not to dab at it too hard – god, you hated cops. They’d started leaving you and your brothers alone ever since your uncle took you in, and for a moment, you’d started to let yourself believe they’d changed. But no. They were the same people who’d drown you and your brothers in the gutters and throw you around in the Refuge. “That should take the swelling down.”
“Or...” Romeo grinned despite his busted eye. “My nana used to say kisses always made stuff hurt less. Care to give it a try?”
You snorted and flicked his forehead.
“No thanks, pal. And word to the wise – maybe don’t bring up your nana when you try to woo someone.”
“So close...” Romeo sighed and leaned back against Specs, who had been hovering behind him ever since you’d begun fixing up Romeo’s eye. Specs smiled and ruffled his hair fondly and oh. You blinked at Specs in surprise, and you could see panic begin to colour his features. You shot him a quick smile. He paused for a moment, looking at you carefully, before relaxing and returning the smile, albeit more nervously.
“Alright.” You clapped your hands together, which surprised yourself – you’d never been so loud or confident around your brothers before. “We all good here?”
“I got a problem, doc!” Albert grinned, waving his arm in the air. “Busted lip, might need someone to kiss it better for me!”
“Hey!” Romeo wailed from behind you. “That’s my move! Specs, he stole my move!”
You rolled your eyes and packed up your first aid kit.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You said dryly, handing him back his knife. “But if you keep on jabbering like that, you may need to have that tongue amputated.”
“Yeah, Al.” Race huffed, swatting Albert upside the head. “Shaddup, will ya?”
“Yikes, tough crowd!” Albert snickered. “C’mon, Racer, don’t act like you wouldn’t-!”
“I said shaddup!” Race snapped, slapping his hand over Albert’s mouth.
You scoffed at their antics and decided to take your leave – the newsies, though they were still in low spirits, were certainly less quiet and more lively than they had been when you’d come in, and you’d patched them up as best you could. As much as you wanted to stay – as much as that strange, awkward part of you that you didn’t quite understand kept begging to be near Race and talk to him and maybe hold him properly instead of just punching his arm and no stop it stop it, you had done what needed doing and there was no reason for you to stay. After all, these weren’t your people.
You had gotten to the door unnoticed when Race grabbed you by the wrist.
“Hey, ya leavin’?” He asked, his smile still wide as ever, but his eyes a little less bright. “So soon? Y’ain’t even had lunch, yet.”
“Medda’ll have food for me.” You said sheepishly. Why was his hand so warm? “I don’t want to overstay-“
“Aw, c’mon! It’s a public space, y’ain’t overstayin’!”
You bit your lip awkwardly. God, you wanted to stay, but you knew you couldn’t – these weren’t your people, these were newsies, they didn’t like you, they didn’t want you here, you were just performing a service and if your brothers found out they’d – they’d...
You were jolted out of your spiral by a flurry of orange bursting through the door.
“Evening, boys!” Sang a reporter you recognized. She definitely didn’t work for the World, she wasn’t there enough to work there, but you’d seen her around a few times when you had started your workplace training. She even got called into Pulitzer’s office once, which was weird for a reporter who didn’t even work there.
A small murmur of acknowledgement spread through the deli.
“Oh, would you look at these glum mugs?” She said in a tone that bugged you. Of course their mugs were glum, they’d just been pelted into the ground. They were hurt, injured, most likely homeless with no family – something this obviously wealthy woman had never experienced. You forced yourself to shake it off – she was clearly a friend, and you had no right to judge if someone was being unfair to the newsies, what with everything your family had done. “Could these really be the same young men who made front page of the New York Sun?”
And just like that, it was as if a switch had been flipped. The boys leapt to their feet and swarmed around her to get a glimpse at the newspaper, all of them grinning ear to ear and laughing in delight. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy – how was it so easy for this woman to swoop in and make them all smile? She clearly hadn’t known them that long, so how was she able to cheer them up and be open with them with no struggle whatsoever? She made it look so easy – how could you even begin to do that?
“Check me out, fellas!” Race grinned, leaping onto a table. “I’m the king of New York, baby! I’m famous!”
“Call me when ya rich.” One boy snorted.
“Aw, ya don’t need money when ya famous!” Race waved him off. “Folks give ya whatever ya want, gratis! The next time I go to Sheepshead, they’s gonna be givin’ me my own personal box! Mush, you could get some new shoes, matchin’ laces, too! And Finch-“
“A haircut!” Finch cried. “A proper barbershop one, not my ma with her sewin’ scissors!”
“A haircut?” Another newsie scoffed. “If I’m famous, I ain’t gettin’ no lousy haircut – I’m gettin’ a watch, solid gold, and a chain to twirl it with! Try that on for size!”
Soon enough, all the newsies were chiming in with what they’d get now that they were famous, all more outlandish than the last. They were dancing around, cheering and celebrating, their wounds all pretty much forgotten about. You frowned up at where Race was engaging in a playful spoon fight with a small newsie – how had he done that? Just used a few pretty words and silly jokes to make all the newsies think that they were okay, that everything was fine, that they hadn’t-
That they hadn’t already failed.
You grit your teeth and marched out of Jacobi’s deli. You couldn’t believe it. For a moment, you’d thought you were the one in the right – that you’d had this brilliant revelation and seen the light, all thanks to stupid Racetrack Higgins. And now, all you could think about was your fight with Oscar.
“What, you think just because some newsie tells me a few jokes I’m gonna side with them over my own family?!”
“I think you’re a dumb kid mooning over a boy who lies for a living. And if you’re not careful, he’s gonna use that skill on you.”
You clenched your fists. You’d been right not to trust him that first day. He was a newsie, a lying newsie, a stupid handsome charming liar that actually made you believe you could be something more than a kid whose parents left them in a gutter and had to crawl their way out by themself.
You were better off with your brothers. You were better off living and dying under Uncle Wiesel’s hand. At least then, you hadn’t had any expectations.
“Hey, [Y/N]!”
You grit your teeth at that familiar foghorn voice. Stupid loudmouth, never should’ve given him the time of day, should’ve listened to Oscar-
“Where ya goin’?” Race smiled, and god you hated how easily that smile made you melt inside. Weak, weak, weak-
“I’m going home.”
Race’s smile dropped.
“Home, like... Back to Medda’s?” He said hopefully. You shot him a dry look.
“Home like my actual home.”
Race’s face fell. He looked conflicted, opening his mouth to say something before quickly thinking better of it, grabbing your hand and dragging you into a nearby alley.
“You can’t go back.” He said firmly, manoeuvring the two of you so that he blocked the way out of the alley. “[Y/N], you know you can’t.”
“It’s my home!”
“No, it ain’t!” Race snapped. “You know it ain’t! Those guys hurt you, and not just on the day of the strike! I see the way you flinch whenever someone moves to quick or comes too close.”
You felt your stomach drop. Oscar was right, you let it show, you let it show and now he knew.
“I don’t need your help.” You growled, clenching your fists. “I don’t need you to fix me, or send me to your fucking caretaker because you think I can’t handle myself.”
“That ain’t what I’m doing and you know it!”
“I don’t know anything about you!” You snapped. A greasy, slimy voice inside of you, one that sounded suspiciously like your uncle, told you to shove him, punch him, show him you were stronger and better than he was, better than the weak little kid who needed saving that he thought you were. You wanted to, a little. But no. You couldn’t hurt Race. Even if all his kind words had been lies, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Weak, the voice sneered.
“I don’t know shit about you.” You snarled. “You’re a liar, all you newsies are. You lie for a fucking living!”
“I never lied to you!”
“You just lied to them!” You yelled, gesturing at Jacobi’s. “You lost, Race. The newsies? They lost. And you’re here dancing on tables and telling everyone everything’s fine when it’s not and convincing them that they can do things that they can’t and I won’t! Fall for it anymore!”
“But I didn’t-!”
“No, no, it all makes sense now!” You said, waving your arms and pacing the alleyway as you ranted. “You come up one day and you see me laugh at one of your dumb jokes and you think oh, now I have an in with the Delancey’s and, and you tell me all these stupid jokes and you laugh at me and smile at me like you – like you like me because you know no one else does! And then you strike and you make me feel guilty for what, sticking with my family?! Like anyone else would?! And you get me to leave them and punch out my own brothers and you take me to your fucking mother or whatever and have her act like she cares about me and-“
“Do you even hear yourself?!” Race snapped. “You think I only talked to you to, what, trick you into joinin’ a strike that hadn’t even started yet?! You think I planned on you leavin’ ya family and jumping into the fray so I could send you to Medda’s, who I somehow already spoke to despite planning a fucking strike – yeah, figure that one out! – just so I could fool you into coming to Jacobi’s for what, free first aid?! Do you even hear how crazy that sounds?! How is it so easy for you to think that but so fucking impossible for you to believe that I care about you?!”
“Stop it!” You cried, slapping your hands over your ears and pressing hard, like maybe you could press all these stupid thoughts out of your head. “Just stop it, just stop!”
Race paused for a moment, his eyes flicking over your panicked expression with sad eyes. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“I don’t wanna yell at you.” He said gently, too gently, far more gently than you deserved. “But I dunno what else to do here, [Y/N]. I dunno how you expect me to – to prove to you how much I care about you.”
You couldn’t help it. Your eyes flicked down to his mouth. Race frowned, his expression morphing from confusion then realization then downright shock horror.
“Wait.” He said, taking a step backwards (recoiling, disgusted, angry, run, run, run-). “Wait-“
“I’m sorry.” You said quickly, like you couldn’t spit the words out fast enough. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve done that, I can leave-“
“No, [Y/N]-“
“I’ll go now, I’ll go and I won’t come near you again, I swear it-“
“[Y/N]-“
“Just don’t tell my uncle! Or my brothers, please don’t tell my brothers, they’ll never let me-“
“[Y/N].” Race said firmly, and it was only then that you noticed how he’d been inching towards you as you rambled. He placed a hand on the wall, just above your shoulder, and another on your jaw. If it were anyone else, you would’ve knocked it away, punched him to the ground, do anything to make sure you got the high ground and he didn’t. But this didn’t feel like anyone else. It didn’t feel like he was boxing you in, or forcing you, or making you feel trapped. Every move was calculated and precise, always punctuated with a raised eyebrow, as if asking permission, before following through. It was careful, soft – if you weren’t a Delancey, you’d call it sweet.
He ran his thumb over your cheekbone.
It was sweet.
“Quit talkin’ so much, wouldja?”
You breathed out a frustrated huff. Race was close enough that it made his curls bounce.
“Oh, that is rich, coming from you of all-“
“[Y/N].” Race said firmly. “Stop talkin’.”
There’s no sunshine or rainfall, no sparks or fireworks. There’s just Race. Race and the taste of cigar smoke and Race and the bite of the brick wall against your back and Race and Race and Race.
It’s incredible and it’s terrifying, all at the same time. You can feel your stone heart melting with each gentle press of his lips, each stroke of his hands against your waist and your jaw, each awkward bump of his nose against yours as the angle shifted, until he held your heart like warm, malleable clay just waiting to be pressed and handled into something more.
That, or he could squash it between his hands. Throw it onto the floor and step on it. Burn it in a kiln until it was reduced back to a bitter lump of stone.
“I can hear ya thinkin’,” Race muttered into your skin as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. “Why ya thinkin’ so much, sweetheart?”
The nickname makes you shiver, and you can’t stop yourself from loving it.
“I’m thinking...” You murmured as Race’s forehead pressed against yours. “My brothers are gonna kill me for this.”
Race grumbled in the back of his throat.
“Please don’t talk about ya brothers while we’s-“
You kiss him before he can finish. He holds your clay heart ever so gently, smoothing his thumbs over any cracks until it’s smooth and warm and glowing.
It’s sweet.
-
(tag list: @annabethgranger123 @farfromjustordinary @yxseminx @oswin05 @theater-geek76 @wnygirl2012 )
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eddieeatsass · 4 years
Text
I’ll Trade you a Myth for a Kiss
Summary: “Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it. Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.” Pairing: Reddie Rating: T
Read on AO3
Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it.
It wasn’t that the bridge was particularly beautiful, in fact it was pretty ugly with its decaying wood frame, rickety beams that split and splintered any hand that touched them, and sun-faded paint job.
It was the lore attached to the bridge, passed down through the hushed whispers of Derry residents for decades, that lured people into its hold. It was said that if you kissed someone under the bridge, they would be solidified as your soulmate; a metaphorical binding of spirits between two lovers.
Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.
So, be it the fact that there was no actual evidence to the validity of the tall tale, or the fact that that very bridge had been the location at which his dear friend Ben had almost been murdered by Henry Bowers and his goons, Richie just didn’t have that much faith in the bridge’s supposed positive energy.
Much to Richie’s dismay, however, his cynicism didn’t do much to deter the way his heart rate spiked when he found himself sitting under that very bridge in the company of said best friend.
 They hadn’t planned on ending up here. Their day had started out much like any other; they’d met their friends at the quarry, soaked themselves and their undergarments in the deep jade water before laying out in the sun to dry. Music rang from Beverly’s small portable radio as they shared jokes and stories until the sun began to set.
They’d all gone their separate ways when there’d been no more daylight to suck out of the sun, the presence of fireflies lighting their ways home. Eddie’s bike had been confiscated by Sonia for god knows what number of reasons, so he relied on Richie to be his chauffer for the day.
And chauffer he did. Richie relished in the tight grip of Eddie’s arms around his torso, the way he’d mutter a ‘slow down trashmouth’ against Richie’s neck when he went too fast, or the little yip that he’d let out when they went over a speed bump, soaring weightlessly through the air for one blissful moment before crashing back down to reality.
He’d enjoyed chauffeuring right up until the moment he rode over broken glass, popping his tire and sending him and Eddie tumbling to the ground.
They’d been lucky, veering into grass right before impact, so their injuries were minor. But Eddie still insisted to treat them before they continued home, blabbering on about infections and amputations and- Richie didn’t listen to the rest.
It hadn’t taken long for Richie to recognize exactly where they were. His bike had decided to commit suicide right next to the infamous kissing bridge, which he’d taken home a thousand times and kissed at exactly zero times.
 “Richie.” Eddie repeated, finally garnering the attention of Richie’s quickly waning mind. Eddie waved his small disinfectant pack in the air as if an obvious gesture of irritation.
“Right, sorry Eds!” Richie scurried over to where Eddie had sat himself down on a fallen tree trunk, a miniature pharmacy set out before them all thanks to his fanny pack.
“Let me see your legs.” Eddie instructed, already loaded with a disinfectant wipe and a look of determination on his small features. It was far too cute for Richie to handle, and it made his insides churn uncomfortably. As usual he defaulted to humor, hoping it would ease his nerves.
“That’s what your mom said last night.”
“Richie! Ugh, gross.” Eddie’s nose scrunched up in disgust and Richie’s plan backfired.
With a rosy tint to his cheeks that Richie prayed Eddie couldn’t see in the dark, he sat down beside Eddie and presented him with two freshly scraped kneecaps.
Richie let out a string of curses as Eddie began cleaning the wound, but once the sting of peroxide passed, he noticed how gentle Eddie was being.
“Batman or Mickey Mouse?”
Richie looked up from where Eddie’s hand laid gently upon his knee, meeting round chestnut eyes that reflected the moonlight. Richie’s mind went blank.
“What?” He asked dumbly.
“Bandaids, do you want Batman or Mickey Mouse?”
Richie’s heart did about three backflips before he was finally able to answer, stuttering out a weak response that was not up to par with his usual.
"You know I've always been a Mickey man, myself."
Eddie quirked his lips, not quite a smile but also not the annoyance Richie was usually met with. He watched as Eddie reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a bandaid, unwrapping it carefully before moving to apply it to Richie's left knee. It barely covered the scrape, but they both knew it was for show more than function. Eddie liked knowing he'd taken care of someone, the bandaid standing out like a gold star sticker on a quiz. He nodded to himself, satisfied, before moving to tend to Richie's other knee.
 The process was much the same. It stung when Eddie applied the alcohol, Richie's heart skipped a beat when Eddie got too close, and then there was a distorted Mickey Mouse stating up at the both of them from where it sat over bloodied skin.
Richie spoke before thinking, his mouth always faster than his brain.
"What, no kiss, Dr. K?"
Eddie rolled his eyes, but if Richie wasn't mistaken, he also noted a slight rosiness rising to Eddie's cheeks.
"We're not five, Richie. I'm not gonna kiss your knee better. Also, ew."
"Who said I was talking about my knee?"
They both froze; Richie, horrified by the deception of his own thoughts, and Eddie, shocked by Richie's boldness.
"I-I-I meant my dick." Richie tried to recover, his tone none too convincing. But bless Eddie, whether truly oblivious or just pretending to be, responded by smacking Richie's chest.
It caused Richie to tumble backwards off their makeshift bench, falling into foliage that almost entirely ate him up.
“Oh my god! Richie!” Eddie’s tone shifted into concern, his body moving faster than such a little frame should be able to as he leaned over to offer Richie a hand up. Richie, widely known for acting before he thinks, took the opportunity to pull Eddie down alongside him.
The sound of breaking tree branches, rustled leaves, and tiny shrieks alerted Richie to the fact that Eddie did not land beside him as planned. In fact, a quick glance around him confirmed that Eddie was nowhere near Richie any longer.
“EDS!?” Richie’s voice was high pitched and frantic.
“Down here, asshole.”
The response, though obviously irate, still brought comfort to his beating heart.
“One second- shit- I gotta- fuck-”
Richie was stumbling over himself, squinting his eyes as he tried to see any minute flash of brown hair peeking through the dark. Richie fumbled around in his pocket, grabbing on to the lanyard that held his keys and, thankfully, a small flashlight. It wasn’t much, but it helped illuminate that area where Eddie’s voice called from.
Richie felt horrible when he realized they’d been right next to a hill, and his action had flung Eddie right down it. He spotted a small moving figure right at the bottom, underneath the looming darkness of the bridge, and set off towards it.
Getting down the hill without falling was tricky, but Richie somehow managed it. When he came upon Eddie, the smaller boy was attempting to dust the dirt off from his body. Richie decided not to note how fruitless his effort was, instead allowing Eddie to believe he had some control over the germs he’d been unceremoniously thrown into.
“Sorry about that, Eddie. You’re just so tiny, you weigh next to nothing.” Richie tried to pass off his comment as a joke, hoping it would lead them back into their usual back-and-forth. He’d never actually admit that he loved how tiny Eddie was compared to him, because that would mean admitting a whole slew of other things that he wasn’t ready to face.
“Not everyone can be Andre the giant, you ever-growing fuck. It’s not my fault my body doesn’t want to become a skyscraper.” Eddie countered.
Richie straightened his back, beginning to feign confusion as he aimed the flashlight above Eddie’s head.
“Eddie? Eddie???” Richie pretended to search for him, looking left and right but always above the line of sight where Eddie sat.
“You’re obnoxious.” Eddie stated.
“Eddie? Is that you? Where are ya boy-” Richie’s joke was cut short when Eddie swatted the flashlight out of his hand. It hit the ground with a wet splat, landing in a pile of mud just on the edge of the water.
Richie laughed heartily. He leaned down to pick it up when his gaze followed the stream of light to where it pointed right at an etching in the wooden beam that held the bridge above their heads.
Richie walked closer to it, crouching next to the engraving and tracing it with his finger. In the middle of a heart were two initials: G + H.
“How much you wanna bet that one’s Greta and Henry?”
“A thousand bucks.” Richie huffed, rolling his eyes at the thought of them carving this into the bridge after sharing a cigarette musky lip-lock.
“Good, they deserve each other. They can rot together for eternity. Thank you, magic bridge.” Eddie tapped the pillar gently, as if patting someone’s shoulder.
“Come on, you believe in this crap?” Richie stretched back up to full height.
Eddie seemed to mull the question over in his head before answering.
“I mean… what’s the harm in entertaining the idea?” Eddie’s voice had a bashful tone to it that Richie had never heard before. It made his skin prickle with warmth.
“I just never took you for the romantic type, Eds.” Richie tried to soften his voice, encouraged it to come out a little less like a tease and a little more like a confession. It seemed to have the desired effect when Richie pointed the light at Eddie and noticed a blush on his cheeks.
“Have you kissed anyone down here?” Eddie asked suddenly, the boldness shocking Richie into silence (which was rare).
Richie instinctively puffed his chest out, a bravado thick on his lips and ready to be spoken, but it deflated as quickly as it was triggered. Eddie was being vulnerable with Richie in a way that he never was, and if Richie messed this up, he might as well be damning himself to a future where Eddie didn’t trust him with moments like this. There was no greater fear than that.
“No.” Richie answered honestly, kicking a nearby rock into the water.
“Have you kissed anyone?” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible over the sound of the crickets and the trickle of the stream.
Richie’s heart lurched in his chest so strongly it almost made him lose his balance. His eyes bugged out behind his coke bottle frames, trying to make sense of why Eddie was asking these questions. With a thick swallow, he answered.
“Yeah, only twice.” He knew he’d boasted about much more, that if the losers had been keeping tally, Richie’s supposed trysts were up in the double digits by now. But he didn’t feel like lying or keeping up some kind of charade. Not here, not alone with Eddie. “Once in 7th grade with Trisha Saunders, and then at the beginning of 8th grade with Megan DeLaurence.”
Eddie nodded sagely, looking down at his feet.
“I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I think I might be the last of the Losers who hasn’t.”
The way Eddie’s shoulders slumped made Richie want to reach forward and hold him up. His fingers twitched at the effort it took to hold himself back.
“It’s not a competition, Eddie. No one’s judging you.” Richie said earnestly, taking a step towards Eddie’s frame. Was he shivering? It had gotten kind of cold in the time they’d been standing down here. Richie hadn’t even noticed the nip of September beginning to creep in, he’d been warmed from the flush of being so close to Eddie; something he realized he’d gotten accustom to any time Eddie was around.
“Eds.” Richie sighed, beginning to unbutton the long-sleeved printed shirt he wore over his t-shirt. Once he shrugged it off, he took another step towards Eddie and draped the garment across his shoulders, making sure not to focus on how it dwarfed Eddie’s already miniscule frame.
Richie had abandoned his tiny flashlight, allowing it to dangle from a droopy hand and angle light out into the water. The darkness sheathed them from reading one another’s expressions, giving Richie the false confidence, it took for him to lean in and press his lips against Eddie’s.
The kiss wasn’t long, nor was it filled with passion. It was probably closer to the type of kiss you give your aunt at Christmas, just a chaste peck on the lips. But despite the nature of the kiss, it still left Richie buzzing from head to toe in a way that no other kiss had done before.
Sure, kissing Trisha and Megan had been fine. Richie had chalked it up to experience, telling himself that the reason he hadn’t felt anything was because he wasn’t used to it yet. But with Eddie it was a whole different world. Such a small touch had made him lightheaded, left him itching to go in for more and not stop until his lungs gave out.
Richie realized then that the silence had stretched out between them, Eddie obviously confused and, Richie realized with a pang in his heart, probably horrified.
“T-there.” Richie tripped over his words, cursing his nerves for mistaking him for Bill. He cleared his throat and tried again. “There. Now you’ve kissed someone.”
Eddie still didn’t respond, and Richie’s heartrate began to tick up into something erratic.
After a pause that probably aged Richie ten years, Eddie finally let out a laugh. A small titter that dissolved all the anxiety Richie was harboring.
“You dumbass.” Eddie giggled. “Now we’re stuck together forever!”
Richie couldn’t hold back the grin that stretched his cheeks so wide they burned. If believing that him and Eddie were now solidified as soulmates meant also believing in some invisible universal force carried on for decades by a fucking bridge, then so be it. He’d believe in every fairytale ever told if it meant being with Eddie.
Richie scratched the back of his neck, a nervous twitch he’d had since childhood. He only hoped that Eddie couldn’t see it.
“Yeah, I guess I kinda screwed the pooch on that one huh.”
“I mean, there’s worse people to be stuck with for life.” Eddie countered.
“Well I am honored I’m not the worst.”
“That honor is gonna have to go to Henry.”
“Well, we don’t have to worry about him because he’s already promised to Greta for eternity. We’re clear.”
“Good. He can have Greta as long as I can have you.”
Richie’s brain stopped functioning, all reasonable responses escaping his mind. ‘As long as I can have you’. Richie would be repeating that to himself as a lullaby from now until forever.
“You can have me.” Richie responded on a shaky exhale.
Eddie’s breathing sounded just as unsteady as it filled the space between them. With nervous hands, Richie brought the flashlight back up to illuminate Eddie’s face. He was quivering, although Richie wasn’t certain whether it was still from the cold, or from the same feeling that had caused Richie’s limbs to feel like rubber.
“We gotta get you home before you become an Edsicle.” Richie teased, breaking the tension between them and leading them back into safe territory. Eddie rolled his eyes, but traces of laughter were evident in his small smile. He shouldered Richie out of the way gently, passing him and making his way back over to the hill that he’d fallen down.
“Well, you better help me back up this hill then.” He demanded.
Richie bounded over to him with newfound glee in his heart, vowing to never take the prospect of magic bridges for granted ever again.
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Her Last Letter to Her Birth Family
((HERE BE THE ANGST~ TW: mentions of homophobia, abuse, and LOTS of swearing. This is basically the last thing the Reaper says to her birth family when she fucks off to who knows where, before ending up in Romania. This is before she got turned, of course, so still human, still the Blogger.))
To my Shitty Family,
So… I hope you’re all happy to know that… I’m out of your hair for good. No, I’m not dead, because I won’t give you the satisfaction of having a dead gay daughter. I’m just gone, that’s all, and I finally have the guts to say all that I wanted to say in this letter. I hope that when you say my name, your tongues burn a thousand lashes, burning the same way you scared me into thinking I would when I die.
To my grandparents, all four of them… I hope when y’all die, ya fucking rot. I wasn’t surprised when ya tried to get me into “therapy” when ya found out I’m a lesbian… well, that didn’t fucking work, ya asshole boomers. I’ll remember your shock and horror when you saw my new piercings, and I’ll relish it. I laugh when y’all (and Ma and Pop, too) thought Satan took over my life when I got into metal. Nothing left to say there, because you’ll croak soon.
To Ma, I don’t know where the fuck to start. You gaslighting, slap-happy bitch. You hurt me, physically and emotionally. You tried to slice me when you saw my first tattoo and tried to rip out my piercings plenty of times. YOU made me feel like I was nothing but a B E A S T because I didn’t want to be a prissy little southern belle like you claimed to be. You said you wanted what’s best for me and that this is all my fault. I am who I am, Ma, and no silly book is gonna tell me that you’re right. You said God made everyone in His image, and that He loves everyone… but then you turn around and spit venom at me for my choices and how I was “too young to know” when I was 17. You gossiped to your little brunch friends about how I’ll be destined for failure because of the way I am. You tried to take away the rainbows and my blog and my money a lotta times, but I’m David in this battle, and you, Goliath, and I won… I won, and there’s nothing you can do about it, because I’ll be way out there by the time you find this letter.
To Pop… FUCK. YOU. You’re a useless sack of shit who did nothing but hit me and Ma, and spoiled Matt rotten. Sure, Ma’s just as shitty, but… wow, smacking anyone around is a fucked up thing to do, man. I always knew ya hated me, because I was a tomboyish girl who didn’t want to submit to your stupid outdated morals. Actually, I think ya just hated me because I was a girl. Would explain why even when Matt fucked up all the time, ya still supported him. Never laid a fucking finger on him, because “he’s a boy, boys are supposed to be like that” and you’d belt me for even saying that people should treat each other nicely. I wonder how long it’s gonna take for you to try to track me down and drag me back to hell… if you do, I won’t go down without a fight, and I’ll drag you down with me. I fucking dare you.
To Matt… Tch, what a worthless lil’ baby brother. I was hoping you’d learn better… But no, you’ve been brainwashed into this shitty life. Ya outed me to our entire family. Ya loved calling me a dyke and a “dirty fucking whore” because of… well, my entire being. I never got that other one… seriously, you’d think Ma would let me go out at night with anyone? Let alone a girl? Come on, ya gotta have at least one brain cell in there to know I don’t sleep around. You’re 23, dude. Not to mention you’d rat me out to Ma and Pop every time I called ya out on your bullshit or every time you treated your female classmates like shit. Yeah, I bet ya liked seeing me take the goddamn fall, knowing ya got off scot-free. I let ya walk all over me like a doormat for too long, so… I hope me leaving this hellhole will finally force ya to wake the fuck up.
Like… fuck. If y’all get infected with the t-Virus or some shit, and home ends up becoming another Raccoon City, I wouldn’t feel bad… hell, even if another Las Plagas incident happened, I still wouldn’t feel bad, and parasites are even worse than viruses, in my opinion.
With all the fiery hate,
The daughter who is dead to y’all now
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alluremin · 5 years
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the bad in each other | 1
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pairing | jeon jungkook x female reader
genre | zombie apocalypse au
premise |  A year after the world goes to hell, you find yourself still alive by the grace of whatever watched over you. You’ve seen people you care about being torn to shreds before your eyes. You’ve seen horrors that, before the infection struck, you couldn’t have imagined. The place you once knew, called home, was gone. All that remained were the mindless dead and humans who had lost their humanity. Now, you can do nothing but protect those you love, no matter the cost.
warnings |  angst, extreme violence, smut (future parts), swearing, alcohol use
word count | 5.1k
parts |  intro  • one  •  two  •  three  •  ?
playlist | inspo | character profiles
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Their screams play on a loop in your brain. The smell of rotting flesh and gun smoke refuse to leave your nose. Jae’s footsteps crunch the fallen leaves on the ground, Kate briefly stumbles over a broken the railroad tie covered by the dead foliage. It’s been three days since it happened.
****
You, Jae, and Kate have been with a community since the start. Everybody called it “Safe Haven”, and it was just that. The large walls surrounding the rustic cabins and the fertile soil made for a sustainable community. Children, like Jae, laughed and played, all the while learning the ways of the new world. You all thought that you were safe from harm, from the dead, but you thought wrong. It was three days ago when a horde heard those laughing children inside your community walls and knocked them from their foundation. It’s been three days since nearly everybody you knew and love died right before your eyes, and you did nothing to help.
Jae and his mother came to the community a couple weeks after you and Kate. She was sick and without proper treatment, wouldn’t last the year. There weren’t a lot of you back then, the original members of Safe Haven were mostly men, hunters who lived their lives in the woods. Then there was you and Kate, med students who soon became healers in the community. Then there was Jae and his mother. You spent a lot of time with the, now 13-year-old, and his mom. She deteriorated quickly without her treatment, and a month after their arrival she passed. You had to take care of her after she was gone, you had learned what happened to people after they died, and Jae didn’t deserve to see her come back as one of them. Afterward, you took him under your wing and taught him all he needed to know, you promised his mom that you would.
****
You could feel your body swaying as you walked. When the three of you fled, you didn’t have time to fill your canteens or grab any food. You just grabbed your emergency backpacks and ran until the screams were far behind you. Exhaustion crept its way into your brain and everything around you went in and out of focus. Sounds are muffled, almost as if you were underwater. You don’t remember the last time you had a drink of water, slept, or eaten. Kate constantly questioned you if you had eaten any of the little food in your supply or if you’d even had a sip of the water in your canteen. You lied to her, you didn’t want her to worry about you on top of everything that you all had been through. In reality, you gave the last of your water and food to Jae, insisting that he take it, telling him that you had already had enough for yourself. You hadn’t.
Your head felt heavy, your feet starting to drag underneath you. It felt like there were cement blocks under your feet. The ground beneath you felt like it was spinning, causing you to stumble. You drop to one of your knees then and clutch the side of your head, shooting pain in your temple signaling you that something was wrong. Medical school, although you had only been in your first year, had taught you enough to know that you were battling the effects of dehydration.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jae, who was no more than a step behind you, crouches next to you and put a hand on your shoulder. His question prompts Kate to stop dead in her tracks and spin to face you.
“Oh shit, kid, what’s wrong?” You tried to giggle at her nickname she insisted on using all the time, but instead, only a heave of air comes out of your mouth. “Fuck, Jae do you have any water left?” He shakes his head in response. You close your eyes but are met with a slap on your cheek from your best friend. You knew what she was trying to do, keep you awake, keep you moving. Regardless of how hard you tried, you can’t keep your lids open, they felt heavier than cement below your brows. Under each of your elbows, you felt an arm lifting your body, Jae obviously on your right, he was shorter than Kate. You use all of your strength to move each of your legs, but it was as if you were wearing lead shoes. Black spots appeared in your limited vision, you could feel your legs give out beneath you. You could barely hear the muffled voices of the people carrying you, and you swore in the distance you could see figures approaching. You didn’t have enough time to determine if they were alive or dead before the world went black.
****
It felt as if the world had ceased to exist and you were just floating through nothingness. Every now and then, you’d catch small bits of conversation and brief flashes of light, but none that could tell you where you were. Maybe this is what happens after you die, your subconscious trying to piece together bits of information from your life. The medical side of you says that this is impossible, but who knows, maybe there is something after death. You hope that you’ll see your family again.
As quickly as the calm overtook your brain when you blacked out, did it go away. A loud ringing in your ears jolts your mind back down to Earth and a pounding headache replaces the subspace you were in not seconds before. All at once, every part of your body starts working again and when you open your eyes and are met with a wooden ceiling, you sit up as fast as your body will allow. This not only causes your headache to intensify but also brings about a headrush unlike any you had ever experienced.
“Whoa, not so fast,” a male voice you don’t recognize is accompanied by a push to your shoulder. “You’ve been out for three days, take it easy.”
You crack one eye open as the man presses your shoulders into the cushions of a couch beneath you. Not caring that moment for pleasantries, you swat his hands away from your body. This man was a stranger. “Jae? Kate?” Your hoarse voice yelps to your “family”, hoping that one of them would respond. In the corner of the room, a floorboard creaks, drawing your attention in that general direction. Jae stands and you meet his eyes as he runs over to you, falling on his knees in front of you and putting you in a crushing embrace. The strength in his scrawny body still surprises, but right now you don’t have the mental energy to tease him for it.
“I thought you were gonna’ die, y/n. You scared the shit out of me!” You pull back from him and move to sit up again, using the back of the couch to support your still weak body.
“Watch your mouth, Squirt,” you tease. The man standing next to you clears his throat, making his presence known.
“I’m Seokjin. My brother and I were out checking our rabbit traps when we saw you guys. Jae and Kate were trying to carry you, so I insisted to Jungook that we help you.”
“Uh, I’m y/n, but you probably already knew that… did you say three days?”
“Yeah, we’ve been spoon feeding you water and soup for the past couple of days. Every now and then you’d be conscious enough for us to get you some fluids, you know, without drowning you,” he sits down on the couch next to you, it’s the first time you take in his appearance. Seokjin’s hair is black, messy, and wavy. It almost looks as if he had been giving himself half-assed haircuts for the last year. He was wearing a simple grey t-shirt with a blue zip-up hoodie and a pair of black jeans. You noticed that he wasn’t wearing shoes and upon wiggling your toes, you found that you weren’t either.
“Thank you, um, Seokjin. Where’s Kate?” You didn’t want to sound ungrateful for everything this guy had done for you, but your best friend’s absence was panic-inducing.
“She and Jungkook went out to get wood for the fireplace. They’ll be back in a couple minutes.” His eyes met your own and he offered you a small small, You reciprocated to the best of your ability then broke eye-contact to take in your surroundings. Everything in the room was made of wood, so you deducted that you were in a cabin. From the small window to your right, you could tell you were still in the woods and the light flooding in told you it was daytime.
Jae had since moved from his spot on the floor to sit next to you on the couch. You put your arm around his shoulder and ran your fingers through his long hair, knowing that it was soothing for him. Ever since his mom had passed, you had used it to comfort him when he was upset. You could tell that the past six days were hard on him. First with what happened at Safe Haven, then with you. The bags under his eyes told you all you needed to know. He had ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’ on his lap. You found the book for him a few months back, but you were surprised to know it was one of the things he grabbed when you escaped from the horde. “Hey Jae, how much sleep have you gotten?” You questioned him.
“I’m not sure, not knowing what was gonna happen, I dunno’ it was hard to sleep,” he dropped his head and you pulled him into another hug. You let go of him them and stretch your stiff limbs and crack your neck, alleviating some of the pressure off of your body.
“It totally slipped my mind, but can I get you something? Water, food?” Seokjin stands and walks around the side of the couch to the kitchen behind you.
“Oh, actually do you know if there’s any ibuprofen or tylenol around here? Kate usually carried some in her bag. My head is just pounding,” you smile sheepishly at him, feeling guilty for asking more from him when he and his brother had already done so much for you.
“I can get it for you,” Jae announces. You smile at him as he scampers off to the corner of the room where all of your bags are stacked together. A tap on your shoulder alerts you to Seokjin’s presence behind you, offering you a bottle of water. A smile graces your lips as you take it out of his hands, grateful for his thoughtfulness. Jae returns to your side with a bottle of acetaminophen. You pop the lid off and pour four tablets into your palm, throwing them down your throat and gulping the water to chase the dry tablets.
“Isn’t four tablets a bit much?” Seokjin questions you, sitting down in a chair next to the couch.
“Overdosing on tylenol is the least of my concerns when it feels like my head is going-” You don’t get to finish your sentence when the front door to the cabin swings open at full force. A boy, no a man, who appears about your age, bursts his way into the cabin. The sound of the door slamming against the wall sends a splitting pain through your head, and you can’t help the glare that graces you face at that moment.
“Oh. You’re awake… it’s about damn time.” You can already tell that this guy is going to be peachy. Looking forward, you can already tell your future conversations with him aren’t going to go well.
You don’t have time to respond to him when Kate barrels into the apartment, dropping the firewood she was carrying outside the door and throws herself on top of you, crushing you in a bear hug. “You scared the shit out of me, kid. Don’t ever neglect yourself like that again or I’ll kick your ass, got it?” You can’t help but laugh at her empty threat.
“I love you too, Scooter.” She pulls back then, giving you an opportunity to turn your attention back to the boy in the doorway. He was closing the doorway, but you could tell he was doing everything in his power to avoid your eye contact. He sets the ax in his hands up against the door and drops his shoulder to remove the leather jacket adorning his body. You visibly gulp at the sheer size of the muscles on his arms and back. Not to mention the sheer amount of ink the covered his arms was not only impressive but also incredibly alluring. He turns around then, catching you gawking at the sheer amount of tattoos covering his body. He only scoffs and rolls his eyes. Peachy.
“Jungkook, I’m presuming?” You push underneath you on the couch then and stand to greet him. He only raises an eyebrow at you and offers a quick nod when you meet his eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
“Yeah, well, since taking you in our food supply is running low. The last thing I want to hear from you right now is a thank you considering-”
“Jungkook, knock it off,” Seokjin stands from his spot on the couch then, but his mediation doesn’t stop your anger from rising.
“Listen, I’m trying to express my gratitude toward you guys. You don't have to be an asshole about it,” You sway your weight to one of your hips and cross your arms. You can hear Jae let out a small chuckle at your snarky remark and actions.
“Hey, this isn’t funny kid, we’re all going to starve if we don’t go out for a supply run soon!” He barely gets the sentence out before you’ve grabbed onto the front of his shirt and pulled him down so that he’s eye level with you.
“Say what you want to me, but don’t you ever, take to him like that,” you release your grip on his shirt and push him backward before walking back to the couch to sit with Jae and Kate. Seokjin slowly sinks back onto the chair as he walks Jungkook stomp down the hallway. The sound of a door slamming meets your ears and you sigh in discontent. That went well.
****
Over the course of the next 24 hours, you had become well acquainted with Seokjin. You could tell that he was a good person and always did his best to lighten to mood. Under the circumstances, some people might say that he was deliriously avoiding the realities of the world, but his antics were understandable. The jokes, the childish behavior; it wasn’t to avoid the problems that plagued the planet, it was to keep himself sane. He had that effect on others too. It had only been a week since you lost your home, but with Seokjin’s presence, coping became easier. You could tell it did the same for Kate and Jae.
Jungkook hadn’t left his room until the morning after your altercation, only joining the busy living room for a brief period of time to grab a bite to eat, then leaving as quickly as he had come in. He didn’t exchange a single word with any of you, only nodding in his brother’s direction when the latter offered Jungkook a pleasant, “Good morning!”
While you were all sitting around the dining table this morning, you told Seokjin that you wanted to leave. You were strong enough now and Jae and Kate were well rested. “We’ve been nothing but a burden to you and your brother, we can find somewhere else to go. We’re just gonna’ follow the train tracks until we come across a town.”
“Y/N, I’ve seen what you have left in your supplies, you’ll never make it and we don't have enough to spare here to give you a week's worth, especially when it comes to food. Don’t Jungkook’s attitude put you off, we haven’t been with other people since the beginning of everything. He’s never been very social, but he’s even more cynical of the good in humans after everything we’ve experienced.”
“I understand that. It’s hard to believe the good in people anymore. You’d think that we’d all try to look out for one another, you know considering the whole living versus the dead thing. We’ve heard stories of rogue communities ransacking other groups, shooting first, talking later.”
“I’d like to still believe that everybody has a shred of humanity. Like you guys. I could tell you we’re good people. I mean, Kate told me that you two took in Jae after his mom passed. Taking care of him like he was your brother.” You feel a pang in your chest as you remember your family, but you push your memories of them to the wayside. Mourning over them wouldn’t bring them to you.
“He had been with us since the start, of course taking care of him a priority. I’d like to believe that there’s good in most of us still too, at least when it counts. Are you sure it’s okay for us to stay? We don’t want to be a drain on your and Jungkook’s supplies. We’re not ones to overstay our welcome,” Kate cuts in.
“Please, stay. We need you as much as you need us. It's important that people like us stick together. Having numbers will make our lives easier, both in terms of defending ourselves, and collecting supplies. More people will make everything quick and easy.”
“I suppose, yeah. Thank you again, Seokjin for everything you two have done,” you smile in his direction.
“Call me Jin, we’re friends now. Seokjin is so formal,” he feigns a look of disgust at his statement.
“Alright, Jin it is then!” You stand from the table then and make your way to the corner of the living room where your bags were. “We should go through the supplies we have and see what we need before going on a run. I suppose you have a place in mind?”
“What do you take me for, an amateur? Of course, I have a place in mind,” Jin smirks at you from across the table as you drop two of the bags on top of it.
****
Not an hour later, you all find yourselves packing up the supplies you’ll need for your run into Jin’s black pickup. Jungkook had joined you shortly after you went through your bags, he had been listening to your entire conversation, entering the room listing off supplies he thought were necessary. You didn’t want to say you hated Jungkook, but he surely had a way of getting on your nerves. You tried to be civil with him, ignore the comment under his breath and his sighs whenever you would cut into a conversation, regardless of him being cold, you could tell he was a good person. He obviously cared about his brother, and other than when you first met, he was nice to Jae and Kate. Apparently, there was something about you that aggravated him.
The five of you loaded yourselves into the cab of the truck. The driveway on the front side of the cabin was at least 2 miles long, whoever had lived in the cabin before all of this liked seclusion, to say the least. Upon pulling out on the road, Jin put his upturned palm toward his brother in the passenger side. The younger boy let out a long groan. “C’mon, why? You do this every time we go somewhere!”
“Jungkook, I am five years older than you, therefore everything I say goes!” You, Kate and Jae, watch with confusion as to what was happening in front of you. Jungkook ignored Jin, earning him a quick twist to his left nipple. You couldn’t help but giggle at their interactions, and more importantly, the squeal that left Jungkook’s mouth. He sent you a glare when he heard you in the backseat, but you held eye contact until he looked away.
“Fine,” the younger man grumbles, reaching into the glove box and pulling out a binder. When he opened it, there were sleeves full of mixed CDs, each labeled with only a date. “What one?”
“January 14, 2012, please and thank you!” Jungkook places the CD in his brother's palm. Not a second later, the sound of ‘Mr. Blue Sky’ comes through the speakers, bringing a small smile to your face. Oh, the irony.
****
You were on the road for roughly 20 minutes before you came across three cars sitting along the side of the road, they appeared untouched. Jin slowed the truck and put it in park. “Let’s see if they’ve got anything, shall we?”
You all spilled out of the cars, Jungkook going to inspect the farthest car, Jin and Kate checking the closest, leaving you and Jae with the middle. You approached the vehicle with caution, the windows were covered in a layer of dirt and dust, making it impossible to see inside. “Jae open the door, do it fast,” he nodded at your words and you stood back, the knife in your hand at the ready. He grabbed the door handle and pulled, but the door wouldn't budge. The car jostled with the boy's effort to open the door. Just then you heard a bang against the window from the inside of the car. You ran your fingerless leather gloves across the windows, sure enough, a stiff was inside.
“Jae, wipe off the back windows, I need to see if there’s anything in there that’s worth it.” He did as he was told, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe the window.
“There’s blankets, some clothes, a couple of cans that I can see, oh, and there’s a first aid kit in there!”
“Well, shit.” You sighed and tilted your head at the dead eyes staring back at you. There was a gunshot wound through its chest. He had taken the easy way out. Should’ve gone for the head.
You take a step back and use your boots to kick through the glass of the back window, and manually unlock the door. You hoped that the battery was dead, the last thing you needed was the alarm going off and attracting more of them. You took a deep breath and opened the door. No sound met your ears upon your action and you couldn’t help but let out an audible sigh. Your actions had since caught the attention of your group. “Everything alright?” Jin called at you.
“Yeah, just got one in our car and the doors were locked. We can handle it,” you say, looking back at Jae.
Upon leaning into the backseat the creature in front of you twists in its seat, the sound of it ripping open its own flesh off to escape the seatbelt met your ears. The mindless creature continued to thrash, knawing its teeth at you.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Grabbing hold of the back of the headrest you reached your arm around and deftly plunged your knife into the soft temple of the stiff. “Shut. Up” You leaned across all the supplies in the back seat, unlocking the opposite side, Jae taking that as his cue to jog around back and join you in going through everything.
Your car had, by far, had the most supplies in it. There were blankets, a first aid kit, some cans of food, two water jugs, and a couple of large tactical knives. If it weren’t for the fact that you had five people in your group, what you all collectively found might be enough, but you needed to make sure that you were set for a while. So, you all loaded up and headed back down the load. You reached your destination about 10 minutes later.
“We’ve been scoping this town out for the past couple weeks, trying to see if it was worth it, there's a general store that's gated off, but we didn’t feel good just charging in there and looting, we didn’t know if there were any of them inside.” Jungkook glared out the window as the truck slowed down.
Jin put the car in park, having since turned the music down to reduce noise. “Okay, so Jungkook, Kate, and Y/N, you three go scope out the store. Jungkook has bolt cutters to get you in. You guys are the brutes with handheld weapons, we want to stay as quiet as possible and I think you’re our best bets. I’ll take Jae and we’re gonna survey the town and find someplace to siphon some gas.” You all nod at the oldest and can’t help but feel grateful that he’s taking Jae with him, he’ll be safer. You give Jae a quick hug and Kate reaches past you to ruffle his hair.
The three of you assigned to the store hop out of the pickup, each of you reaching into the truck and pulling out your backpacks, Jungkook grabbing an additional duffle bag to fill. Jungkook taps the side of the vehicle, and Jin drives off down the street. You pull out your Glock, and look around the area, making sure everything is clear. Jungkook crouches down with the bolt cutters and cuts off the padlock on the metal door. You and Kate cover him from the back with caution. When you hear Jungkook push the heavy door upwards, you and your best friend turn around and follow him to the set of glass doors at the storefront. He slowly pushed against them, and they open with little protest. After entering, he turned around and locked the glass doors behind you, just in case.
Upon entering the store, everything is extremely quiet. There are a few aisles, a pharmacy at the back, and ladder leading to the roof in the back of the store. Everything seemed untouched to you, and you were surprised that the store wasn’t picked over. This must have been a community that they evacuated. Considering its size, you aren’t worried about there being any of the dead in here. Instead, you make your way to the back of the store to check the pharmacy. You pop open your bag and start taking anything off the shelves that would be helpful to you, and anything that wasn’t expired yet. Painkillers, antibiotics, and anti-inflammatories made their way into your bag. You checked the counter and found a bowl of condoms sitting there. You smirked a little to yourself and justified that they wouldn't expire for five years, so you may as well take a few. You never know.
Just then you hear a bang against the front door, all three of you turning your attention in the direction of the sound. A stiff presses itself against the door, trying to get in and you look to Jungkook and Kate.
“I can get it,” Kate grabs the knife strapped to her hips and makes her way to the front door.
“No, let me,” Jungkook steps toward the door, making Kate stop in her tracks. “You have a lot more stuff to collect on that side of the store than I do.” She only nods and walks back to where she was.
As Jungkook reaches up to the lock to undo it, five more stiffs join the first and Jungkook swears under his breath. Just then, a crowd starts to gather at the door, and Jungkook jumps back. “Shit, shit, shit. Y/N, is there a back door?”
“Not that I’ve seen, just the ladder. Damnit!” Kate and Jungkook jog back to meet you at the only escape point.
“Here, there’s a lock on the hatch!” Kate tosses you the bolt cutters, you holster your gun and throw your bag over your shoulder. You climb as quickly as possible. The glass doors start to creak under the weight of bodies, the glass cracking and groaning. When you reach the top rung you lean against the bars surrounding the ladder, but you’re shaking so badly that you drop the bolt cutters. You hear them clatter to the ground and as Jungkook reached the upward to hand them back to you, the sound of breaking glass meets your ears, You use all of your strength to cut through the padlock, finally breaking it as the horde approaches you three in the back. You swiftly climb onto the roof. Jungkook throws the duffle bag he had filled with supplies upward and you catch it. He follows you up the ladder as quickly as he can, a few of the stiffs nearly at the ladder. Kate follows him, but her boot slips off one of the rungs and she stumbles. Her boot is caught by a couple of the stiffs below her.
“Kate!” You scream, you and Jungkook both reaching your arms toward her, pulling her upward. The leather of her boots being bitten by the dead below her. You two pulled with all of your might and she kicked at screamed to get her leg released. With all of your strength, you and Jungkook manage to pull her up to the roof with you. More now than ever, you were glad they couldn’t climb. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears after the episode as you all lay there and pant. “We’re you bit?”
“No, I kept moving my legs and my boots are too thick.” She sighed and closed the hatch as you all stood.
“Jesus, Y/N! Dropping the cutters? Seriously?” Jungkook yelled at you as you closed the hatch.
“What, do you think I wanted that to happen?! The slipped out of my hand Jungkook, give me a damn break!” You yell back and stand to face him.
“Enough you two! It doesn’t matter anymore, we all made it out so just shut up! This argument isn’t important so drop it!” You and Jungkook break eye contact to look at Kate, she was right.
You turn away from him and walk to the edge of the roof, overlooking the front of the store, more of them came spilling out of the woods and onto the street. Walking along the edge of the roof, you realized that you were completely and utterly screwed. You were trapped.
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crue-sixx · 5 years
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Hungry Like A Wolf
Title: Hungry Like A Wolf
Author: tiddly-winx
Fandom: The Dirt (Motley Crue Movie)
Summary: The reader is bitten by a big dog, but she's in for more than just an infection.
Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Gore, Sickness, Smut. Animal Death, Werewolves
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It was Halloween, the band's favorite holiday.  You guys went all out, decorating the apartment, making your costumes with whatever you could find and throwing them together last minute.  Of course you stocked up on candy-both for you all to eat and to pass out to the kids in the building.  You and your boyfriend Tommy were handing out the candy, and when the trick-or-treating hours had concluded, the real tricks would start.
Nikki had bought five dozen eggs a month ago and let them rot, planning on having you all throw the putrid stink bombs at adult passerby who happened to be roaming around.  You all had it planned out-two on the left, two on the right and one sitting in a tree or on the roof.  You were with Tommy on the right, Mick and Vince to the left and Nikki up high.  You bombarded a few groups of teenagers who were bullying younger kids for their candy.  The little bastards deserved it. 
The stink exploded on impact, causing the pizza faced boys to gag and scatter.  "That's what you get for bein' mean to little kids, assholes!" Nikki shouted from up top.  The teenagers all cursed and vowed revenge, but you all knew it was an empty threat. 
When all the eggs were spent, you kissed Tommy on the cheek and said "Go on back to our room, Babe" you said winking "I gotta go pick something up for your treat tonight" he grinned, knowing full well that he was getting a special sex session tonight.
"Why didn't you just have it delivered or pick it up earlier?" he whined, not wanting to wait for his Halloween Treat.
"Because" you eyed them all "Most of you guys like to try and ransack my drawers for my underwear" except for Mick, they all nervously laughed and glanced down.  "And I didn't want the surprise to be spoiled" you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly.  He of course returned the gesture with aplomb.
"Hurry back, Y/N" he said, not wanting to let you go but he had to.
"I will, Tommy" you blew him a kiss, to which he caught it and sent it back.  Nikki and Vince made mock gagging gestures and Tommy laughed at that.
You were on your way to the shop that was open late tonight when you had to cross the park to make a short cut.  It was like Central Park in New York, but considerably smaller.  You could see your destination just on the other side when you heard a rustling in the bushes.  You turned and saw a rather large dog, you didn't think anything of it and tried to go on your way, but a supernatural force pulled you back to stare into it's eyes.
Your heart rate slowed down and you entered a dreamlike state.  The dog's eyes were yellow and looking at you like you were it's next meal.  You were in a trance, the creature having reared up and walking on two legs like a human.  You knew you should have been terrified and run off, but the power keeping you there made that impossible.
You could smell and feel it's hot steamy rank breath as it exhaled on you.  It's fangs were dripping with saliva and you could see it's mouth twisting into an ugly snarl.  It then howled and lunged at you, knocking you over.  The sudden movement snapped you out of the trance and you screamed for help.  The thing clamping down on your arms with its jaws and scratching at your belly with claws so sharp it could cut diamonds.
It would have killed you if someone hadn't blown it's brains out just as it was going in for the kill.  Your neck was exposed and it was about to bleed you dry when you heard a crack of thunder and then a pink misty cloud of blood and brain matter splattered the white rose bushes, painting them a brilliant red.  The shooter stepped forward, a young teen boy right after him. "What should we do about 'er Pa?" asked the boy in a nervous tone.
"Let's put 'er outta 'er misery" the older man cocked the shotgun and pointed it at you.
You had tears running down your face as you tried to speak "Please no..." when you heard more people coming your way with flashlights.
"Damn it!" the older man cursed "Grab the beast boy and hightail it outta here!"  The son did as his father bade, and they left you to bleed.  It wasn't long however when a group of police officers came to your aid and radioed for an ambulance. 
In your blood loss induced state of delirium, you asked "Why did they paint the roses red?  They're gonna lose their heads..." before you finally passed out.
Back at the apartment, they were all getting worried.  They knew where the sex shop was-they all frequented it for condoms and various other sex novelties.  It didn't take two hours to get there and back.  Tommy was pacing around in circles cracking his knuckles."Where the fuck is she?" he felt the worry puke coming on.
"Relax" Nikki tried to reassure him "Maybe there's a long line at the check out counter or something..."
Then the phone blared.  An ominous pressure filled the room as they all stared at it.  When the phone rights at two in the morning, nothing good ever happens.  Tommy picked it up and said "Y/N?"
"No" an unfamiliar voice answered "Is this Tommy Lee?"
"Yeah" he had to steady himself on the table.  From the expression on his face, they all knew it couldn't be good.  They waited in uncomfortable anticipation for more information "Who're you?"
"I am Doctor Finkle from L.A. General.  Do you know a woman by the name of Y/N L/N?"
"Yeah she's my girlfriend" his voice cracked "Is she okay?"
"I cannot say exactly" the sound of papers shuffling "from the police report, it states that she was attacked by a large animal in the park and was just bought into our operating room for emergency surgery.  Please get here as quick as you can..." it sounded like you didn't have much time left, and Tommy bolted for the door without even hanging up the phone or putting shoes on.  The rest of the guys followed him and he filled them in on the way in the car.
When they finally got there, Tommy ran in, knocking over a nurse with a cart full of medicine.  "Y/N L/N!" he wheezed, out of breath "Is she still in surgery?!"
The receptionist typed in your name and your status was stated next to it "Yes, she is.  The O.R. is on the fourth floor.  Please fill out a visitors-" he wouldn't let her finish, him sprinting to the elevator and pressing the buttons repeatedly.  His rational mind knew that pressing the same buttons over and over again wouldn't make the damn thing go faster, but his emotional side was nervously twitching.
"Come on, damn thing..." the others caught up to him as the doors opened and he went in, repeating the previous motions of button mashing the fourth floor button.
A passing orderly was unfortunate enough to be within reaching distance of Tommy's arms.  He grabbed the poor unsuspecting young man and shook him violently "Y/N L/N!  Where is she?!  Where's the fuckin' doctor?!"
Dr. Finkle heard the voice he had spoken to fifteen minutes ago and came out in scrubs, fresh from surgery "Mr. Lee?"
Tommy's head snapped to him and he said "Dr. Finkle?!"
"Yes, that's me.  If you'll stop terrorizing my orderly I can fill you in on your lady friend's condition" Tommy let the trembling man go, offering him an apologetic look.  "The consultation room is this way" he motioned with his hand to a small room that could only fit two maybe three people.
Tommy went in and sat with him while Mick, Vince and Nikki watched from the waiting room trying to read their lips.  Dr, Finkle looked haggard, he had been working all day on idiotic drunkards who had gotten themselves into ridiculous situations.  Most of them were minor injuries, cuts and scrapes that the patients INSISTED were broken bones.  But this woman was the real deal, her blood tests showed no alcohol or any other substances in her system.  She was just a poor soul in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"How is she, Doc?" Tommy's voice cracked, on the verge of tears.
"She's stable" the doctor answered.  Tommy breathed a sigh of relief.  "She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stop the bleeding and replace what she lost.  She'll be alright, she just needs a few days in here to recover and to make sure she didn't get any diseases of whatever animal attacked her" he took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.
"What's the damage?" Tommy wanted to be ready for what he was going to see.
"She has extensive bite marks on her arms-most likely defensive wounds-some deep.  She also has claw marks on her chest and abdomen, but those are superficial.  They're not much concern at this time."
Tommy swallowed hard and asked "When can I see her?"
"In about ten minutes.  She's being settled into her room right now.  The anesthesia may last longer than that, but that's to be expected" he took off his glasses and added off the record "you can stay as long as you want.  I recon that you'll be the first person she wants to see when she wakes up..."
"Thanks Doc" he was very appreciative and shook his hand "For taking care of my girl..."
"She's in room 509 on the recovery floor" the doctor added.  She should be settled by the time you get up there" they then parted ways, Tommy grateful for the man who saved his lover's life.
The others got up when they saw him come out, the waiting game being too much for them "How is she?"
"She'll live" Tommy said flatly "Go on back to the apartment, I'll stay with her" they looked at each other uneasily and agreed.
"Do you want us to get you anything before we go?" Mick asked, being uncharacteristically empathetic.
"Nah, I'm good.  I'll just have the shitty coffee and snacks to hold me over" he tried to smile, but it was very weak and unconvincing.  They reluctantly left but they knew he needed alone time with his girl.
You were still in your drugged sleep when he came in.  He thought he'd mentally prepared himself for what he might see, but he was wrong.  Most of your upper body was bandaged up like a mummy, but your head was still visible.  He let out a few whimpers before breaking down like a lost child.  "Y/N...Baby..." he took your hand and held it.  "I'm so sorry...I never should have let you go alone..."
You were starting to wake up then, saying "Don't beat yourself up, Tommy" he jumped, startled at your quick recovery.
"Y/N!" he was both happy and perplexed "How are you awake so soon?!"
"I heard you crying and thought I'd wake my lazy ass up and see what's going on" you smiled at him, still groggy from the drugs.  He was just so happy that you were okay, that he leaned down and gave you the sweetest, softest kiss he ever did.
"I love you" he confessed through his sobs, snot dripping down his face.
"I love you too, Tommy" you reached up to try and clean his face, but you were seeing triple and couldn't tell which Tommy to wipe.
"I got it, Babe" he laughed and wiped his face.
All the tests came back negative for any animal borne diseases, and you were clear to go back to the apartment.  Tommy was there by your side all the while, the guys bringing him clothes and toiletries so he could be clean.  He hated being able to smell himself and it was nasty.
The guys had a small party when you came home, just the five of you and a little welcome home cake.  You thanked them and had a few beers, Tommy leading you away from them to make love to you in a proper fashion.  He gingerly touched your scars and kissed them, You tried to shy away from his touching them but he insisted "They're a part of you now, and I love everything about you..."
"Tommy..." you sighed a ragged breath of carnal desire.  "Fuck me..."
"Don't gotta tell me twice"  you were already so wet from just him touching you that he didn't need to do anything like oral or fingering.  He was rock hard too, so he just slid inside easily.  He let out a gasp of pleasure and commented "Oh fuck baby you're tighter than usual..."
"Well, I have been out of practice for a week" you whispered into his neck before kissing it.  You then felt a strange savage second nature begin to wash over you.  You smelled his blood pumping through his veins.  You wanted him.  His flesh.  His meat.  You were able to push the urge down and he continued to fuck you.
"Jesus Fuckin' Christ" he moaned into your mouth "You feel hotter too..."  he grunted loudly "my dick's on fire...fuck" he had you against the wall, holding onto you tightly.  You turned your ass to him.
"Do me from behind Babe" you groaned and dug your nails into the plaster.  He happily obliged, liking this new angle.  You could hear his balls slapping against your ass gently, serving to draw the both of you closer to your climax.
"Oh God" Tommy gasped, bucking his hips wildly "I'm gonna fuckin' cum..." you quickly pulled away from him and took him into your mouth, deep throating him as he pumped his seed down your gullet.  He held your head in place, his own falling back in exhausted pleasure.
After you had swallowed his semen, you looked up at him and said "Was that hot for you baby?"
"So fuckin' hot Y/N" he was panting "I could feel your nose against my stomach..." he gulped hard "I love it when we try new stuff in the bedroom..." he picked you up and kissed you tenderly.  He was spent, but you hadn't finished.  You didn't care about that, you had your man with you and that's all that mattered.
The next morning, you smelled the sweet aroma of frying meat.  It lulled you out of bed and into the kitchen where Tommy was making breakfast.  "Mornin'!" he greeted, but you didn't answer.  You smelled the raw bacon on the counter and couldn't take your eyes off it.  Your mouth began to water, just the thought of tasting fresh meat driving you mad with ravenous hunger.
You scooped up the raw meat and tore into it like a wild animal, your teeth making it easier to shred than before.  Tommy watched you in amazed horror, then put a hand on your shoulder to stop you from eating raw meat.  You snarled at him, your eyes full of pure rage at having your meal interrupted. "The fuck you want?!" your voice wasn't just your own, but a deep throated. rolling growl.  You were so pissed that he'd interrupt your meal like that!  You imagined ripping out his esophagus and making his intestines your meal but you realized how fucked up that was and calmed down.
He was actually scared to respond at first but he said "Dude, you're eating raw meat...that's got bacteria in it..."
"Erm...right..." you put down the raw meat and looked down "sorry..."
He gave you a strange look, but let it go.
Things went back to normal for a few weeks, then exactly one month after the attack you fell ill.  First, you were burning up and sweating buckets.  Then the vomiting when you had nothing in your stomach.  Everyone thought it was just the flu and they stayed clear of you, Tommy bringing you soup and some crackers.
Then your insides started burning, and the vomiting turned more violent.  It was when you saw blood in the toilet that you started to panic.  "Tommy!  I need-" a new round of blood vomit came but this one actually hurt.  It was then your skin started to itch-like tiny bugs were crawling all over the surface.  You started scratching.
Tommy had heard you call for him, and when he came in the bathroom, he saw you clawing at your arms "Y/N, what the fuck?!" he grabbed a towel "You're bleeding!"
"I'm just so itchy..." you brushed him off and continued to scratch, drawing more blood from your body.
"Fuckin' stop!" Tommy grabbed both your hands to keep you from doing more damage.
"Tommy what the fuck's going on in there?!" Nikki shouted.
He didn't have time to answer, you had stood up, whipped your head back and headbutted him, breaking his nose.  Nikki and Vince burst through the door when they saw the carnage.  They stared speechless, Tommy knocked out on the floor and you bloody with your muscle meat on display.  "T-Bone!" Nikki went to his fallen friend, and you had thrown up blood all over him.
You were then on the ground twitching.  They thought you were having a seizure and Tommy was trying to help you, but then they saw your features begin to change.  Your bones began to break on their own, your skin tore away from your frame, the largest organ of the body unable to contain the new growth.  In it's place, coarse fur and animal skin grew.  Your nose elongated into a snout, fangs protruding  where your teeth once were.
Nikki and Vince didn't wait around to see what was happening next, instead grabbing Tommy and dragging him out of the apartment and hauling ass out of there.  You-or whatever version of you that was followed them down the hallway on all fours.  "Holy shit!" Tommy had woken up and was staring a behemoth of a dog in the face.
The thing had leapt up, ready to completely devour them all when a soft whistling was heard, then a yelp from the animal and then the thing skidded across the floor.  They looked up and saw Mick with a hunting rifle, but a tranquilizer dart in the animal's thigh.  "What the fuck was that?" Tommy asked.
Nikki and Vince looked at each other, unsure to what to say.  They knew what they had saw and weren't on anything that would make them see that.  Mick spoke up and said "That's Y/N.  She's a werewolf" as easily as saying "Pass the fuckin' potatoes".
"What the fuck?" Nikki whispered.
"How do you know?" Tommy looked at Mick.
"Shut up and watch, Drummer" he said, and you started shrinking back to normal size.
"H-how is this possible?" Tommy stumbled back, his broken nose the least of his worries.
"It was on Halloween when she was attacked.  A few of my buddies heard about werewolf activity in the area and decided to check it out" he pulled the dart from your thigh, you giving a small yelp of pain as he did so.
"How do you know all this shit?"  Vince questioned "Werewolves and all that crap are just myths!"
Mick took a long while to respond, but when he did "There are things that go bump in the night, boys.  I'm one of the ones who bump back" he grabbed you by your foot and began to drag you across the floor.
Tommy got up and shouted "Hey!  Where you takin' her?!"
"To a place where she can turn and not hurt anybody" he took you down the stairs, being careful not to smack your head against them.
"You're not takin' my girl anywhere without me!" Tommy grabbed a hold of his arm, but Mick gave his signature glare and he backed off.
"You really want to be around the thing who just tried to eat you?" he asked sarcastically.
"She's not a 'thing' Mick!  She's my girlfriend!"
"Get that nose looked at first, then I'll come back and take you to her.  I promise..."
Tommy let him go, Nikki and Vince having been shell shocked into silence.  After he got cleaned up, Tommy waited for Mick to come back,  When he did, he kept his word and took him to the police station.  "Mick why the fuck are we here?"
"To see Y/N" he gave an unfamiliar hand gesture to a guard and he let them in a secret passage.  At the end of the passage, there was a group of fortified cells with all sorts of giant dogs in them of varying colors and ferocity.  Then at the very end, they saw you in your human form, still knocked out from the drugs.
"What did you shoot her with?" Tommy asked, caressing your face.
"Wolfsbane" Mick answered "It reverses the transformation and makes them sleep it off.  Too much will kill them though" he slipped a freshly dead goat into your cell, to which Tommy gagged.
"How do you know about this Mick?  I mean really?"
"My family have been monster hunters for generations"  he washed his hands of the blood "Going all the way back to Abraham Van Helsing and Dracula" he loaded his shotgun with a round of silver bullets and waited.
"Hey, what are you doin'?" Tommy protested.
"If she wakes up and turns again, then there's no hope for her.  I'm going to put her out of her misery" he cocked the gun.
You woke up a few hours later, still your normal self.  You were confused about your new surroundings.  "Good!  You're awake and you!" Mick smiled warmly.
"What happened?" you asked "Why am I in this dank cell?"
They had explained what happened, you not believing them until you talked to Vince and Nikki, then seeing the damage of the bathroom for yourself.  You certainly didn't want to die or kill anyone, but you couldn't resist the transformation.  "What do I have to do?"
"Keep track of the lunar cycle and lock yourself up in the cells when the full moon comes around" Mick answered "eat all the raw meat you can get to control the hunger."
You looked at Tommy and started to cry.  "Baby what's wrong?" he hugged you close to him.
"I tried to kill you guys" you sobbed into his shirt "I can't be around normal people anymore!"
"Are you breaking up with me?" Tommy whispered quietly.
"No, but I understand if you want to break up with me..."
"Babe, the thought never crossed my mind" he pet your hair.
"You sure?"
"Of course!  If I wanted to leave, I'd be gone by now!" he smiled down at you.  "We just got to get used to the new you..." he grinned into a kiss.  You remembered how great the sex was the last time you did it with him, and that seemed to quell the beast inside you for a moment, but you knew that at any time, your inner wolf could strike and you counted on Mick to put that silver bullet in you before you could harm anyone.
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urbigbiddygothgf · 5 years
Text
Suffer the Fallen Ones
"No!.. Please- don't take.. him..."
Dean's vision blurred as he saw the person carry an unconscious Sam away. "No.. stop-!" His voice was uncomfortably soft, as if his vocal chords were being plucked at. He could faintly see the person's outline turn around, Sam's head laying limply against the person's shoulder. Dean lifted a hand, as if reaching out, before slipping away.
His eyes watered as they opened, his whole body aching. He gasped at the realization.
"Sammy- ugh!" He struggled against the restraints. He was tied down to a bed, everything around him fading into blackness. Dean cursed under his breath as he settled against the mattress. "Hey... HEY! Where's the boy? The one you stole!"
"I didn't steal the child." Dean gasped, watching the corner illuminate with blue dots. "He's unconscious. Whatever attacked you-"
"Where is he? Take me to him!" Dean fought against the restraints, his fist balling up.
"Be careful, you've injured your-" Dean hissed at the pain that shot through his abdomen. "side.." The blue eyes looked hooded, hesitant. "Allow me."
"Oh- oh hell no-!" Dean closed his eyes, unable to protect himself. He was vulnerable. He inhaled sharply when fingers grazed his waist. The touch was soft yet unsettling. One eye peeked over.
"Holy shit.." Dean's eyes widened at how the boy looked. Rugged, unkept. Blood trailed down from his nose and he had red stained hands. His eyes were a nice crystal blue and glowed bright. "What... are you?"
The boy looked ashamed. Then started undoing his shirt.
"Okay, hey. That's not necessary." He continued anyways, pushing it off his shoulders. Then turned around. "Oh my god.. how the hell-- what the fuck happened?" The boy looked over his shoulder, examining the bloody stumps on his upper back. Blood trailed down his back, along with other lacerations.
"They took apart of me... my wings. They just started cutting, and cutting, and cutting-!" The boy sobbed into his hand, regaining his control of emotions. "The animals who attacked you? They stole my wings. They tortured me and left me to rot in the woods. And soon they'll come back to finish you, and your boy off."
Dean was processing everything very fast, his head starting to hurt. "Wings? What the hell are you- an angel?"
"More or less." The boy put his shirt back on, then a black zip up hoodie.
"Holy shit, I must've hit my head, really, really hard. This is," Dean chuckled nervously. "This is crazy.."
"I can assure you have no head trauma," The boy grabbed a knife and cut the restraints. "I would've sensed your brain waves and have found a fault."
Dean sat up and whimpered. He placed a hand on his bandages and slowly got off the bed. The boy walked over towards the door, waiting for Dean. He walked over slowly, taking his time.
"Would you like assistance?"
"Look- I don't even know your fucking name and I'm not trusting you til I see my brother's alive." Dean growled. The boy jumped at the tone, his eyes glowing blue. Hesitant.
"Castiel. Your brother is this way." He continued down the hall towards a room. Dean followed. Castiel pulled out a key and unlocked the door, walking in.
"Oh, thank god.." Dean walked over and kneeled down beside Sam's unconscious body. "Hey Sammy." He whispered, moving Sam's hair away from his face. His features we're relaxed, steady breaths he was taking.
"His name is 'Sammy'?" Castiel asked. Dean sighed.
"His name's Sam, he's my baby brother."
"Oh. That's why you were telling me not to take him away. I'm gonna take a guess and say he's the only one you have left..?"
Dean's breath hitched as he stood back up. "Yeah, yeah he- he is. I'm not gonna lie," He turned towards the angel at the door. "I thought you were one of them. The monsters. I thought you were gonna take him away from me and... and just-"
"You don't have to tell me. It's a tough subject, I can see." Castiel crossed his arms. "I'll leave you two alone, you can wait for him to wake up and I'll see if there is any internal damage."
"Dean."
"What?"
"I never told you my name. I-It's Dean. Thank you, Castiel."
The boy stared at the floor, a smile falling on his lips. "Your welcome, Dean." He walked out and closed the door behind him. Dean looked back at the little boy, sitting and waiting patiently. No matter how long it'll take, he'll wait.
About an hour later, Sam woke up with a headache, questioning Dean about what happened. Dean took thirty minutes to explain before Castiel walked in with a chipped coffee mug. Sam screamed and tugged at his older brother's flannel. The boy jumped and became tense.
"Hey hey hey-... It's okay, Sammy." Dean placed a hand on Sam's tear stained cheek. "He helped us. He's one of the good guys." He looked over his shoulder and saw Cas staring into the coffee mug, a small smile on his lips.
"He.. he was taking me away! He was gonna leave you behind!" Sam curled up behind Dean.
"If I'm being honest," Castiel took a step forward. "I didn't know your brother was there. He was buried under some leaves and I... I thought he was dead. But I saw you breathing so I went over and picked you up. Then Dean started calling for me, so I ran back here with you, then went back for him. I didn't mean no harm.."
Sam sat up and guilt ate at his stomach. He noticed that the boy looked ashamed of his actions.
"I... Thank you. For helping us, I didn't know you were trying to help my brother and I." Sam told him. Cas' face lit up, a bright smile. "I'm Sam, by the way."
"Yeah, Dean told me. I'm Castiel."
"You live here alone?"
"Well, it's more like a hide out, from the monsters. They can hunt you down by scent, and this place smells of dust and dirt, so my sent is masked. I've been here for a month or two."
"My brother says you're an angel, or, were.." Sam felt it wasn't his place to talk about this traumatic event in Castiel's life. And he stood corrected when Cas' bright smile shifted into a frown.
"I'm still an angel, I have my powers, but... my wings have been taken from me. They're still alive, if that makes sense. The bond- I can still feel them. I'm gonna get them back. As long as the bond is still there, they can reattach and it'll be as if they were never gone." Castiel explained.
"Whoa.." Sam mumbled. "Then- we have to help you!"
Castiel chuckled. "I would love the help, but you two are injured and I intend to get my wings back as soon as possible. Your brother's injuries would take a while to heal, and you're just a child. I can't forgive myself if something happened to you guys because of my burdens."
Dean and Sam glanced at each other. Somehow they both knew.
"We're gonna help you. It's the least we can do." Dean spoke. Sam nodded.
Castiel made a face of shock, but relaxed. He looked uncomfortable about the idea. Why wouldn't he be? A pair of humans just offered to help him get his wings back! Cas has every right to be uneasy considering humans took his wings in the first place!
"Okay. We'll go scouting around the woods and see if they left any traces. Missed something, didn't clear their tracks well enough. We'll go in a few hours, you two rest." Castiel walked over and handed the steaming mug to Dean. "Let me escort you back to the room."
"Dean-" Sam grabbed at Dean's flannel.
"I'll just be down the hall. Sleep a bit." Sam nodded and turned away from the two, curling up into a ball. Dean followed Castiel back to the room and settled back onto the old bed. The angel grabbed the first aid kit and started undoing Dean's bandages.
Dean didn't bother to argue, he just arched his back upwards so the process would speed up. Cas threw the bloody bandages somewhere in the room. He took out a cotton ball and peroxide, soaking a tiny spot of the cotton ball. Dean took in a breath as Cas started cleaning the wound.
"Fuck..." Dean mumbled under his breath.
"Apologies, I heard this can 'hurt like hell'." Castiel mumbled. "But, better then having an infected wound."
"Can't you just.. heal me? Like," Dean snapped his finger. "That?"
"My powers are slowly draining. It would take a lot to even heal my lacerations."
Dean bit his lip, thinking. "I can help you clean and bandage them." Castiel lifted an eyebrow.
"I thought I was taking care of you?" Cas smirked. Dean shrugged as he sat up, a shy smile.
"We can help each other. Yours might be a little more difficult from what I saw."
Castiel finished up wrapping Dean's stomach with new bandages, then they traded seats. Cas faced the wall as he took off his top half of clothing. Dean winced at the gruesome sight.
He grabbed some cotton balls and the peroxide bottle. "How old is this? Is it recent?"
"It's been a week, so yes."
"Why didn't you try cleaning it?" Dean said as he applied the peroxide soaked cotton ball on the first laceration, then the next, and the next. Castiel shrugged, slouching over once more. A couple hundred more blood stained cotton balls later, Dean decided to move on to the bloody stubs. He gulped as he grabbed a rag, poured some peroxide into a petri dish, dipped the rag into the liquid, and started cleaning. Cas was silent as Dean pressed the rag onto one of his 'wings'.
The two were silent, very silent. But it was a comfortable silence. Dean started on the other stub, watching Castiel flinch.
"Sorry.." He mumbled and continued on. Once his back was free of dried blood, Dean started bandaging the tinier cuts on Cas' back. Then started bandaging Castiel's chest, making it tight yet snug. "Does that hurt at all?"
"No, it's fine." Castiel grabbed his clothes and started slipping them on. "Thanks, Dean."
"No problem. You should probably rest too."
"I don't need rest. But you on the other hand, do. I'll let you rest." Cas got off the bed and dusted off. Dean nodded a thanks and laid down on his back, closing his eyes.
Cas stood at the doorway, his hesitant eyes shooting left and right. Oh, his eyes. He stumbled over and placed a kiss on Dean's forehead, running out immediately after.
Dean's eyes slipped open, a tiny smile graced his lips. He sighed, then relaxed back into the mattress once more.
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tumblunni · 5 years
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Me in the hospital: i cannot sleep for 24 hours, the slightest noise is blaring, i am perpetually anxiety adrenaline
As soon as i get home: has the best sleep of my life
I usually take an hour to get to sleep each night but i totally just curled up like a snail and dropped into dreamland instantly. And i woke up to a nice warm house cos the heating turned on while i was asleep, and now all the anesthetic is completely worn off so i feel energized and great! And my throat pain has eased up so thankfully i wont have to be liquids only for as long as i thought. I was all hyperactive and cooked a great fancy omelette and it tastes like heaven itself! Its so weird how stuff tastes slightly diffetent when its the first time youve been able to chew with the right side of your mouth in five years. I guess the tastebuds on the sides of your tongue are slightly different? When i eat everything now im gonna be rolling it all over my mouth like WOW ITS ALL SO NEW AGAIN! Will probably look nuts in the middle of mcdonalds with my cheeks puffed like a squirrel XD
Oh and this is also a great excuse to drink loads of chocolate milkshakes from my milkshake viking mug! I feel so energized with calcium and yums!! EVERYTHING TASTES SO NEWWWWWWW
Oh man i do feel a bit sleepy again now after just being up for a few hours tho. I have these good jaw pain specific medicines i have to take for the next two weeks til my followup appointment to check if theres any infection left. But man i feel SO ALIVE AGAIN im pretty sure all the rot is gone! It feels so wild having space in my mouth and not constant clenchy tightness. It actually hurts less recovering from the surgery than it did before, lol! I can feel all my teeth moving apart again and loosening up into normality and the gums healing up all their injuries and oh god i just love how they cleaned out all the broken parts of my teeth and capped them with these great replacements that look so real you'd never be able to tell! My smile looks not ugly!! My smile looks not ugly!! Aaaaa! I just expected regaining the right side of my mouth, i didbt expect to e like "holy shit it must have hurt even more than i realized cos this feels so amazing now". Like i guess i got used to putting up with it and forgot how it felt to not have painmouth? Underestimated how good a teeth can be! And man i never asked for reconstructive cosmetic stuff too but they did these caps and aaa my teeth never looked his good even when they were new!! My front teeth were always crooked even before they did the weird balogna slam together and shattered into a pile of crap. And now they look like perfect supermodel teeth!! The only side effect is that its a lil hard to get used to the lack of gaps between them now after so long dealing with the shattered mess. My tongue keeps being like "oh no did something get stuck in the gaps again oh wait there arent any" and then i subconsciously try to clean them after taking every bite and just bite my tongue instead. Man i never noticed i picked up a bunch of weird mannerismd cos of tje bad teeth! I was constantly paranoidly checking my mouth 24/7 in case the slightest thing made it even worse, and eating super gently so that nothing accidentally touched the Wrong Tooth and set off a jolt of pain. And i actually needed to get a filling put in on the leftmost back tooth that was the ONLY TOOTH I COULD USE TO EAT WITHOUT PAIN for all this time! Overuse of it meant that it got ground down a little and probably would have become painful too if i'd left it any longer. Then i really would have been all soups all the time and that sucks!! Soups are good but nothing but then gives u stomach issues. The bad poops!!
Man sorry im rambling so much im just so hyper and happy and also still kinda dopily sleepy! Im not still delirious or anything i just feel the happy kind of sleepy where the anesthetic is all gone and its not "oh god i cant stay awake" and more natural sleepyness of a long day being over and everything being okay. I had such a good long nap and i feel well rested after getting so little sleep beforehand due to all the dumb anxiety. And i still feel dozey but happy doze~
Anyway its awesometo be able to really chug and crunch a foods! With the other side of my mouth i forgot about! And taste milkshake to its fullest extent!! Oh and whats weird is that the reconstructive surgery capping on my front teeth means that theyre kinda one tooth now? The caps are all linked in a single piece to fill the gaps fully without even the natural ones you'd have on healthy teeth. So its like a solid tooth guard just sculpted to look like three teeth. Itll be tricky to train myself out of thts subconcious rubbing the gaps with my tongue when theyre not even there. But i expect once i get over the unfamiliarity this triple cap will be really useful! Theyre totes reinforced so that even if i do get tight mouth problems again and the front teeth take the brunt of the pressure, now theres no gaps to smash into each other and become a painful mess. Its like scaffolding reinforcing my whole mouth by fixing the loadbearing beam, or something.
Oh also these pain meds make u a little bit more sleepy than normal paracetamol so i'll probably doze off again soon. But hopefully i will have slept off most of the "healing debt exhaustion" tomorrow and will be able to go walk down the shops and buy some icecream and other soft food. I mostly stocked up on purely liquid food cos i tjought my mouth function would be more limited. But honestly the teeth are working so much better than before, they were already so swollen and painful that i couldnt crunch stuff! Now the mild discomfort of mid-healing from surgery feels like barely anything and i bet i could bite thru a goddamn rock right now! I just cant really swallow crunchy stuff or stuff thats too salty or citrusy. I didnt even know about the stabbity throat pipe so i didnt expect it to be the most painful part that takes the longest to heal. It feels so weird cos i keep coughing like my brain thinks theres phelgm stuck in my throat when its actually a skin flap/blister from the insertion. So obviously that aint going anywhere and i have to try and force myself not to cough or swallow or else i set off this cjain of "must get thing out of throat must puke" reflex. And the pain feels like a sore throat but it isnt?? Its not really inflamed ot anything its just an actual friction burn on the opening of my airway. Which is not a common occurance so the brain is justvlike "what the fuck is happening, must send all contradicting signals at once!" So sore throat medicine wont work cos that goes down your throat passage to your stomach when really this lil skin tag blister thing is in the lung throat opening thing. And sucking on throat sweets made it worse cos all the muscles were really tense around the area where the tube was inserted, hence why it was hard to swallow food even tho it was my windpipe that hurt. And sucking on something is kinda like perpetually swallowing nothing, when you think about it? Im glad that the muscle tenseness is mostly gone now and the painkillers are helping with the ouch, and my brainis getting usedto not coughing and making it worse. But still should eat soft easily swallowable stuff for a lil while and it'll be fun to go aroundthe shops with my last pocketful of change and find neat ingredients to stick in omelettes. Im so excited to taste all my favourite things in new HD functional mouth power!!! And i can smile at the shopkeeper!!!
And oh man i really do think that my sleeping problems with stiff neck and that kind of 'bloodrush to the head' migraine were indeed part of the bad wisdom teeth bleeding internally under the gum. I thought it had to be that cos nothing else in my life changed around that time aside from getting a better and healthier bed which should have been beneficial to my neck. And even going back to sleepong on the floor like before didnt make a difference so it definately wasnt the bed! And it kept getting worse while nothing was changing, and i kept trying different things like changing my pillows and headphones and cutting caffeine out of my diet and eating more salt and eating less salt and fuckin ANYTHING ELSE cos i knew if it really was the dumb tooth being infected then there was nothong i could do about it til my surgery day arrived. Itd be such a relief to know for sure that it was indeed the tooth and now that nonsense is gonna be gone forever! But also thats really worrying to know that it was getting so bad it could have spread an infection to my jawbone and the top of my spine if itd been left much longer. I kept sneezing up blood lumps like the size of a fifty pence piece! Had never had nosebleeds for a decade and now suddenly all the time! God it feels so good to be able to lay my head down and not feel all woozy and tense im the forehead or neck. I really hope this good neck untenseness continues and the awful aches really were just the tooth. But everyone in the hospital was so nice that i think even if i do need a second surgery to check for jaw infection then id be able to be less nervoud than i was this time
Man do u ever get that thing where youre so peaceful and contented that like you can breathe easier? Like subconciously taking bigger breaths and the middle of your chest feels slightly puffed out and warm. I guess thats what the "heart leaping in yout chest" idiom is meant to refer to, lol! Or maybe i can just literally breathe easier cos the tooth pain might have been passing into my nasal cavity too, lol. My entire head feels so less tense!! Its like all my bones were rebelling against me and now they're at peace again!! Man i feel so giddy happy like i chugged a giant energy drink or something but its the opposite its a good sleeps drink XD
So im gonna go lie down again and have a relax and watch a movie or something and see if i pass out when the medicine kicks in, or if its not too bad and i can still continue my hyper mood. But my nap was so long that its too late to go to the shops now anyway so i'll just make more plain omelette and milkshake if i get hungry. I mean it doesnt taste plain when all my sense of taste is so amplified likethis! I dont mind if its all i can eat all week. PURE MILKSHAKEY DECADENCE
Aaaaa im just so happy!! I missed my chance to get the new. Kingdlm hearts but ive beenwaiting fkr this surgery for ages too and it feels like just as much of an exciting relief!
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galactichxpe · 5 years
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day in, day out ❦ jjk, jhs, myg [last of us au]
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◜       ◝ characters » jungkook, hoseok & yoongi (main pov is jungkook)
genre » the last of us au. zombie apocalypse & a little angst
word count » 1,624
warnings » strong language, light gore
a/n » inspired by the game "the last of us." what is the last of us? the last of us is an action-adventure survival horror video game. in which the world is overthrown by infected (of different species such as infected, bloaters and clickers.)
its basically a zombie apocalyptic game with the best storyline and amazing graphics. it's my favourite video game. anyway-
enjoy !
◟       ◞
he had woken up in the silence of his room. the light from the moon casting upon him causing his face to contort, rubbing his tired eyes. a hand of the clock on the wall had just ticked to 2, 2 in the morning.
he came out from under the covers, placing his feet on the floor before switching on the lamp on the bedside table. the warm light illuminating the room as he stood on wobbly legs, still feeling drowsy from waking up suddenly.
making an advance toward his door, he took a couple steps before his cellphone rang, startling him momentarily but he still picked up the vibrating device. clearing out his groggy 'morning' voice as he read the caller id.
'mom'
he answered the call without a second thought, putting the phone to his ear. "hey? it's late-"
"jungkook! thank god you picked up, i was so worried, i- your father didn't answer any of my calls or texts- is he there? i need you to put him on the phone somethings-" her rushed, shaky rambling was cut short when the line went dead, the ground shaking slightly simultaneously; jungkook gasping quietly in shock.
"mom? mom?!"
he called into the receiver and got no reply. his nerves were shaking along with his heart that was beating two times faster than before. he tossed his phone onto the bed before rushing out of his room. met with the darkness of the hallway.
"dad?!"
his steps were heavy as he jogged through the corridor, in search of his father who apparently hadn't been answering his wife's calls. "dad?" his voice grew softer as he entered the kitchen. his eyes caught sight of a yellow sticky note placed on the marble countertop, it read
"working late, be home tomorrow. feel free to raid my snack pantry :)" jungkook sighed. the sigh was of somewhat anxiousness; didn't explained why he wasn't answering any calls. he placed the note back as red lights and sirens blared past a window in the living room. and just as he was about to walk into the living room, something slammed into the glass door leading to the backyard behind him. spinning on his heel in an instant only for a gasp to leave his lips; eyes widening as his jaw went slack.
"dad?"
there his dad was. bloodied and battered, his guts threatening to pour out of him as he slammed his body against the glass again. and again, and again. jungkooks first initial thoughts surprisingly weren't to help him, but to run away. his instincts were kicking in; a gut feeling telling him that his dad was going to hurt him. his fathers actions progressively became more violent. letting out inhuman shrieks and guttural noises that made jungkook uneasy, practically terrified of what happened to his father... and what his father was going to do to him.
the glass shattered and jungkook bolted for a his fathers desk; pulling open the drawer. clasping the metal of the gun firmly in his hand before turning around. his father was heaving on the ground, bones crunching as he sloppily stood back up from the blood and glass shards surrounding his feet.
"dad?"
he groaned in response, his bleeding eyes seeming to need time to focus as they soon landed on jungkook who was in the other room, gun clutched in both hands.
"d-dad? what're you doing? are you... are you o-okay?" jungkook knew damn well his father was far from okay. he was no where near okay yet he wanted to see if his father responded rather than groaning more. the man who raised jungkook. the man who taught jungkook everything he knows. the man who loved his son unconditionally... then screamed, running toward jungkook in a harsh-violent manner.
"dad!"
he hesitated for split second. and in that split second... he saw for the last time, what little life his father had left in his eyes; before squeezing the trigger.
[ten years later]
his shirt stuck to him like a glove as he treaded through the crumbled streets of boston. the rain coming down heavily as he adjusted the weight of the backpack on his shoulders. the others were following close behind, looking as much of a mess as jungkook; mud smothering their boots and water dripping down their noses. and by 'the others', that's means the two men jungkook had met five years ago when he was scavenging an abandoned neighbourhood; that happened to not be as abandoned as he thought it was.
hoseok and yoongi; his two best friends that started as companions, which turned into acquaintances, then blossomed into trust. he could count on them, feel safe around them. they were his best friends after all.
"hey. why don't we hold up somewhere? we can stay in one of these buildings until the storm passes." hoseok practically yelled over the claps of thunder, water running down the sides of his face as he gestured to the tall, slanted buildings that had moss covering parts of the exterior, rubbled rooftops and foggy windows.
"sounds good." the two others agreed and they proceeded to climb into a hole in the side of a promising looking building. the least damaged one that is. they soon found themselves in a dark, messy corridor of an apartment building. their flashlights being of use as they cautiously walked through the halls of the creaking building. trash suddenly crumpled beneath yoongi's foot; quite loudly. withdrawing his boot thinking it didn't draw much attention; only to hear an echoed guttural cry at the end of the hallway.
a body staggered into view. fresh blood dripping from its chin as it jerked its neck suddenly, catching view of the three men watching it closely. "is it just one?"
"i think."
"it better be." jungkook muttered as he already had a rusty long pipe in hand. approaching the infected who began running at jungkook the moment he advanced toward it. he was quick to react, swinging his weapon at the shrieking man's leg. toppling forward having no time to pounce up at jungkook before he began to violently smash the infecteds head in with the pipe. crushing it's rotting brain and shattering its disgusting skull.
"alright. now that it's dead. let's find a place to crash for the night." jungkook spoke with heavy breaths as he dropped the pipe to the ground; having no more use for it. jungkook was about to return to his friends who nodded in agreement; already opening a door. when a group of infected suddenly burst through another entrance at the end of the hall to his left. he estimated ten as they started to sprint toward him, screaming. without a doubt drawing more attention to the three men.
"shit, run!"
the three boys could have easily taken out ten. but what made jungkook loose confidence was the large bloater; stomping toward him, throwing a chunk of its flesh at jungkook but missed as the man dashed down the hall. spores bursting from the bomb-like piece of flesh. it's yell was loud and rumbled through the building. it's steps shook the ground as it followed the three men closely; it's height helping it move faster with its long strides despite being large in size.
"fuck, fuck, fuck!" yoongi shouted as he took a few pot shots at the infected and bloater. managing to take a small infected down before catching up with the two others.
"this way! this way!" hoseok ordered, busting through a door waiting for jungkook and yoongi to enter before pushing a large cabinet over; barricading the door. presumably the bloater crashed against it, shaking and shifting the cabinet out of place slightly before ramming against the door again.
"that's not gonna hold." jungkook stated the obvious before everyone's eyes searched around the room; in dire need of an escape route, and fast.
"uhh.. oh! here! jungkook, give me your knife." yoongi hurriedly flipped a couch over from adrenaline. revealing a decently large sized vent, capable of allowing the three men to crawl through. he pried the vent open in record time with the blade. throwing the grate elsewhere before standing up, gesturing for the two others to lead the way. "go! go!"
they wasted no time in getting on their knees, crawling through speedily as they heard the door hinges snap. yoongi watched as the bloaters arm shoved through the crack of the door; the cabinet thankfully holding in place long enough for yoongi to crawl through the open space. but before he followed the other two he placed a fallen painting in front of the hole; hopefully hiding it enough so the infected wouldn't crawl through as well.
attempting and successfully surviving the night in the ventilation system.
┆        ┊        ┆        ┆       ┊       ┊
the three men did everything humanly possible to survive just one more day. scavenging, thieving, killing, lying... they did whatever they could if it meant they'd live to see the sun rise and fall again. half of the threat wasn't just the infected; but the people as well. all the good people died in the beginning. and all the dangerous ones lived. the good people jungkook lost... were his father, his mother, his brother, park jimin...
and himself.
he was once your typical, reckless teenager. and he grew up a killer. a dangerous man who didn't take chances... he no longer loved. no longer smiled. and no matter how many times hoseok and yoongi tried... he never laughed; not even a chuckle.
jungkook had let the world ruin him. shape him. he was gone. jungkook had died the moment he killed his father all those years ago.
now it was just day in... and day out.
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Text
My Regards
Takes place during 1x10 “I am become death”
See end for more notes
******************
Murphy had spent most the day in the Dropship, first retching and heaving on his own and then trying to help take care of all the people who had gotten sick after he brought the biological agent into the camp. He could admit to himself that yeah, he felt a little guilty about it, but he knew that if he had any chance at all to stay in the relative safety of the camp gates, he had a lot of @ss-kissing to do. When he was starting to feel better, he even gave his prime hammock space up for Clarke, when that toady, Finn, carried her in. And then he actually felt himself speaking up to volunteer to help Octavia take care of the other sickos by bringing them water. If he didn’t know better, he’d think whatever the Grounders had infected him with had started to rot his brain along with the rest of his insides.
When he heard some of the group talking about how to protect the camp from the anticipated Grounder attack, he knew they’d never accept his freely-given input, but despite what anyone else might think about him, he knew how to get $hit done. A couple of casual comments here and there, and they all knew there’d be a bridge the Grounders would have to cross before arriving at the Dropship. And when he heard a few bits and pieces about how some chick named Raven was making a bomb to blow the bridge sky high, and no one seemed to question her ability to do so, he smirked a little to himself for things actually going at least slightly right for once.
Of course, it didn’t take long for things to get screwed up again, especially when Bellamy entered, all bloody and panting. Octavia pretty much lost it at that, and he found himself actually trying to make the guy feel better, for all the good it did. Bellamy wouldn’t even take water from him and Clarke had to intervene, though he supposed maybe he couldn’t blame the guy. If he made a point of checking on some of the patients that were closer to Bellamy’s sickbed in order to listen in on their conversation, he figured that was what anyone with half a brain would do - just another day of figuring the odds and placing your bet on what would take you farthest.
Admittedly, his choices so far hadn’t all been winners. It definitely wasn’t part of the plan to get tortured, and the less he thought about what had happened near those Grounder huts, the better, as far as he was concerned. He knew he was out of it while he was caught there, but even he could acknowledge that he’d acted just like they had wanted when he made good on his “escape” and came right back to the Dropship. He didn’t like being played like that, and while he sure wasn’t in any kind of position for much right now, he knew he wasn’t going to let go of what they had done to him without retaliation.
While he was still figuring out his next move, everyone in the camp was rattled by a sudden and booming explosion. The people who could walk got up to look outside, and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the two infatuated saps who weren’t fooling anyone with their obvious flirting about their booksmarts. They were about as obvious as they could get and even he could see it. From the sound of the boom, there was a pretty good chance the group that had gotten to the bridge had managed to delay the Grounder attack just as they planned, and Murphy wasn’t an idiot - he knew his time at the Dropship was limited and it was becoming clearer what he needed to do.
*******
Later, Murphy watched as that floppy-haired jerk, Finn, brought in the girl who must be Raven. He didn’t get a good glimpse of her but he wondered a little, considering Finn was willing to move on so quickly to Clarke once they had all landed on Earth. But there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings as far as Clarke was concerned, as she hovered over Raven and seemed to take particularly good care of her. Murphy continued in his efforts to help out and he mentally patted himself on the back when he noticed Clarke watching him a few times with a speculative look in her eye. A few hours passed until he crashed on one of the cots with the intent to get some sleep before he put the first part of his plan in motion, but before he could fade off, Finn was back and it was clear he intended to talk to Raven. He nodded to Clarke on her way out and decided he might as well see if he could learn anything useful from whatever Finn had to say, so he leaned a little closer but shut his eyes and feigned sleep.
“Hey. You saved my life.” a low and husky voice reached his ears.
“Wouldn't have had to if you didn't take the bomb.", Finn replied.
"You hesitated.", she murmured.
"What?"
"When Bellamy asked who was gonna take it, you hesitated.”, she said more firmly.
Finn sounded confused. "It's what people do when they're considering something that might blow them up, right?"
"You didn't hesitate when Clarke was falling. You knew she had the virus, but you caught her, anyway."
"Raven--"
"You didn't hesitate."
"Raven, I love you."
"Not the way that I want to be loved. Not the way that you love Clarke. It's over, Finn." And if that didn’t sound final to Murphy’s ears, he didn’t know what would. 
He squinted one eye open and watched Finn leave the Dropship, and he thought about the exchange between them. All he knew about this girl was that she could build a bomb and apparently managed to hike it to the bridge while suffering from the sickness that he had brought into camp. And now he also knew that she wasn’t unaffected by Finn’s betrayal but was standing her ground anyway - she wasn’t going to be a pushover and she knew her worth. He could admire that even at the same time he was wondering how a girl that strong could get involved with Finn to begin with. He heard a few sniffs come from the direction of her hammock, and even though no one could ever call him a gentleman, he figured he’d give her the privacy she deserved instead of his normal instinct to stir the pot a little with a sarcastic and biting commentary.
He waited until the soft noises from her had faded, and he carefully stood to see that no one else was stirring in the makeshift medical quarters. He walked over to where she lay and glanced down, and he realized Finn was a far bigger fool than even he had considered him to be. Raven was beautiful and it was obvious even in sleep. What the hell Finn had going for him, he couldn’t figure out, but he’d give him a little credit for having good taste.
He allowed himself one brief moment to wonder what she might say to him if she woke up and caught him staring, but then he stepped back and remembered that he was covered in blood and wasn’t the kind of guy a smart and capable woman would ever get involved with anyway. He gritted his teeth and set his jaw, and put all thoughts of what could be out of his mind, as he moved towards Connor and the path he had decided to take.
********
In this episode, Murphy really is in the Dropship when Finn talks to Raven, and I didn’t think it was a big reach for Murphy to eavesdrop. I like the idea of him having an impression of who Raven is before he ends up shooting her, and I think he genuinely regrets that she was his victim right away. I love how complex Murphy is and if shipping him with Raven is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right!
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