#mine made me hurt myself evenly. even when i wanted to stop. i have had to put my hand on the stove MULTIPLE TIMES
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they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?
they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.
you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.
you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.
mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.
you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.
#writeblr#warm up#to be clear let me state again: i think you should id however you fucking want if it helps you seek peace#but there is a HUGE difference between being like '.... im undiagnosed but i think i might be X'#and a person who is like ''omg my intrusive thoughts made me buy a birkin!!!''#babe mine made me throw up bc they disgusted me so much <3#mine made me hurt myself evenly. even when i wanted to stop. i have had to put my hand on the stove MULTIPLE TIMES#and again i'd rather have 10000 people get help for something they don't need help for#than have 1 kid NOT get help#but there has GOTTTTT to be a middle ground here#bc at this point it isn't ''raising awareness''#it's . fucking misinformation. and ''what this picture says about you!!!!!''#& yes! im mostly talkin about ppl who are actually disgusted and offended by signs of mental illness#but use it to defend THEIR actions#like babe you hate when kids start yelling in the walmart? but you YOuRSELF can yell?#you are depressed so it's fine you were cruel to your spouse?#but if your spouse spends too much time in bed she's a lazy fuck?#your partner needs to do everything for you bc of your history in trauma? but when SHE has needs she's being clingy and gross?#HUGE difference here between whom i think most of my followers are btw. like#all it takes is fucking anyyyy empathy or kindness . like.#anyway it's hard to explain im hoping we all know the person im talking about lol
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Better Now
Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.
A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.
Word Count: 2.6k
And away, and away we go!
__
Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.
“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can���t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”
“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.
“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.
“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”
She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”
“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.
“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”
“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”
“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.
Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”
“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”
She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”
Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”
“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”
Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”
She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”
“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”
There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”
“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”
“Y/N.”
“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”
“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”
Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”
“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”
Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”
Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”
Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.
She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”
“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”
“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”
“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”
“Not in a band, huh?”
“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”
“That’s gotta get lonely.”
“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”
“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”
She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”
“Go for it.”
“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”
“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”
“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”
“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”
“That’s the hardest part.”
“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”
“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.
“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”
“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”
“Good luck, Y/N.”
~~~
Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.
She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”
She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.
“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”
She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.
“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.
“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”
He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.
There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”
“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”
“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”
“Unfathomable.”
“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”
“Lucky you.”
He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”
“That’s rough.”
“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”
“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”
“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”
“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”
He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”
She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.
~~~
Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.
When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.
“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.
“It’s done?”
“It’s done!”
“Well, hit play! C’mon!”
For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers.
“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”
He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.
“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”
“And other times?”
“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”
She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”
“Please, don’t.”
“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”
“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”
“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”
~~~
7 Months Later
Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”
“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”
“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”
“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.
“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”
“Better than I’ve ever been.”
__
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Moonlight
♤Idol; Johnny Suh
♤Genre; Mafia!Johnny, angst
♤Word Count;
♤Warnings; mentions of stitches, mentions of killing, depressions,
♤Synopsis; Isn’t the moonlight beautiful tonight?
Part 3
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
The moonlight in Chicago is beautiful.
You landed at the Chicago O’Hare airport a little after 2 am. There wasn’t much time spent sightseeing, as Jeno was nervous of how far Seventeen’s connections could go. You rushed through the airport, getting into the car that Johnny specifically set up to take up to the house. Upon our arrival you quickly hurried into the house - catching the sight of security cameras above the front door - and checked out the house, seeing the nice decor and modern art work. It certainly looked more like a safe house than you would’ve liked, there were no remnants of Johnny in it, making it seem a lot more bleak to be in this house.
After checking out the rooms, we split up the rooms evenly. You got the master bedroom to yourself, Jeno staying in the bedroom connected to yours, asking you to make sure that you keep the door unlocked.
In case of emergencies.
The first night there was hard.
You first took a shower, allowing the lukewarm water to run over your body, looking at the stitches lining the jagged scar on your stomach. Running your hand gingerly over the stitches, feeling nauseous while you look at it. Looking away from your scar you quickly washed up and climbed out of the shower, cleaning your stitches and quickly slipping on pjs, a pair of shorts and one of Johnny’s old hoodies that he slipped in while you were packing.
You laid down in the bed, pulling the blankets up to your chest and stared at the ceiling. Just willing for sleep to overtake you, but your thoughts quickly divulged in Dino, Mingyu, and Johnny.
How did Mingyu know where you were? Was he stalking you? How long was he stalking you before he attacked you? Why was Dino still after you? Even if you were a loose end, you hadn’t talked or seen eachother in years. Would Johnny be okay? Johnny was incredibly dangerous and smart, the reason he was so fit to lead the Neos. But would they be enough to get rid of Seventeen? You hope that Johnny doesn’t let any emotions override his senses. Johnny needs to kill Dino or this will never end.
Sitting up you looked around the dark room, the paintings lining the will just looking like black blobs. Climbing from under the covers you quietly opened the door, walking close to the walls to avoid any squeaky floor boards not wanting to wake any of the beds.
You remembered that Johnny had gotten groceries delivered, so you headed straight for the panty. A smile spread across your face as you looked at the strange assortment, knowing that Johnny purposefully got you and Dreamie's favorite snacks along with some miscellaneous food items. You opted out of eating Chenle’s favorite cookies, knowing that he would be upset if they disappeared the first night and made some hot cocoa instead. Hopefully the warm drink would help you go to sleep.
After making your hot cocoa you walked out into the fenced in backyard, the cold air actually waking you up a little more. Looking up you saw that the sky was clear, the moon shaped like a beautiful crescent. Stars twinkled all over the sky while a few flew by. You took a deep breath of the fresh air, feeling it fill your lungs before taking a sip of your drink.
“Johnny. Please keep everyone safe, including yourself. I need you here with me.” You closed your eyes, willing the universe to hear your prayer.
The sound of the back door squeaking open had you glance over your shoulder. Just in time to see Jisung peek his head, a shy smile on his lips. You motioned for him to come join you, and turned back around, feeling Jisung sitting down on the ground beside you.
“You okay?” You nodded your head, offering Jisung a sip of your drink that he gladly took, enjoying the feeling of the liquid warming his body from the inside out.
“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to come and enjoy some late night nature.” You took another sip of your drink, holding it in your mouth just savoring the flavor before swallowing. “Do you remember when you guys saved me? All those years ago.”
“Of course I do.”
“After you guys saved me I started having these awful nightmares, they were more reliving memories. Seeing Seventeen come near me, holding me down while they did whatever they wanted to me. They haunted me for up to a year after you guys rescued me,” You swallowed the lump that was steadily growing in your throat, Jisung placed his hand on my shoulder for comfort “ Johnny was always near me, just in case I had one so he could ‘protect’ in his words. One night I had a really bad night terror, Johnny actually had to wake me up from it. He brought me outside so that we could look at the stars, and told me as long as he was beside me I would be okay. I was such a pessimist I didn’t want to believe it, especially since back then we were only friends. So I asked him, 'What about when he wasn’t there?’ ” You placed your drink on the ground, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“Johnny told me that the moon would watch over me when he couldn’t be beside me. I knew it was childish, even back then when it was all I was holding on to. But a part of me also believed that. It just fills me with comfort now. I just hope that Johnny looks at the moon too, so that we’re both protected even though we’re apart.”
Jisung wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You snuggled into his chest, feeling comforted by the youngest just sitting and listening to you since he wasn’t the best with words.
“We’ll be back home soon. You just gotta trust them.” You wanted desperately to believe him, but a sick feeling was rising in your stomach. Maybe you shouldn’t have made hot chocolate. Patting your shoulder, Jisung started to stand up.
“Come on, you need to try and sleep.” Sighing, you allowed Jisung to drag you to the kitchen, where you quickly rinsed out your cup and walked up the stairs, Jisung following behind you. As you put your hand on the doorknob to your room you called out to Jisung.
“Jisungie?”
“Hm.”
“You’ve grown up wise. I’m proud of you.” Even across the darkened hallway you could see Jisung’s cheeks redden as he sent you a quick nod before bursting into his room, closing the door quietly behind him. You couldn’t help but giggle as you opened your own room door, closing it behind you and laying down on your bed. The room felt a little less ominous, and the dread had lessened a lot.
It was easier to believe that everything would be okay.
....
It’s been a little over three months, and you’ve barely heard any news from the Neos. They would only send quick text that didn’t give out any information, but let us know that they were safe, to make sure that if our phones were hacked they wouldn’t have anything to use. Every precaution was taken to make sure all of you were safe.
Our first month here was dare you say fun. Groceries were delivered every two weeks, and when you wanted anything new you could just send a quick text to Doyoung or Taeil. Every week you would sit together in the living room and binge watch a new show on Netflix - if you could actually agree on something - or have a movie night.
After the first month all of you started to get tense. Still only getting the sparse texts from the Neos, none of them with any important updates. You tried to text Johnny, just quick texts to stay safe, and take care of himself. You only got terse responses, or left on open. By the second month you just stopped texting.
You knew this was meant to protect you; but why does it feel like a punishment?
You were sitting on the couch between Chenle and Jeno, having been forced out of your room. The boys had gotten uneasy seeing you lock yourself in the bedroom, depression starting to overcome you after the updates lessened. They forced you to freshen up before dragging you down to the living room, forcing you to have a movie night with them.
“Short stack.” You jump realizing that you had zoned out, the movie's credits were now playing. Concern painted all of their faces and you felt guilty, realizing you had caused this for all of them.
“Are you okay?” You shook your head, not bothering to lie to Jaemin. Knowing that he could see you right through you. The Dreamies were your closest friends, they had been the ones to truly help get you out of your shell along with Johnny after they rescued you.
It’s now been seven months without the Neos. Seven months being quarantined in Chicago. Seven months missing two of our dreamies. Seven months without hearing updates, not knowing if they were safe. Only being able to hope that they were still alive.
Jeno pulled you into a hug, practically onto his lap after seeing how crestfallen you looked. “Everything will be okay. They’ll call us any day and tell us to come home. Just have to be patient.”
“You don’t fucking know that.” You pushed Jeno’s arms off of you and stood up. Your eyes burned but you refused to cry. Crying wouldn’t help the situation. You were just ready to go back home. To be back in Johnny’s arms. “We are all just fucking stranded here in Chicago. None of them have texted us in months. How much longer will we be fucking stuck in here?” Despite your fighting tears streamed down your face, you wiped them away with your hands, backing up as Jeno stood up to try and embrace you.
“I am so sick and fucking tired of being patient. When it get’s us fucking no where. I just want to go fucking home.” You dropped down to your knees, Renjun wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.
“They’re okay.” Jisung spoke up from the armchair he was sitting in, a blanket wrapped around him. “I talked to Haechan.”
“Jisung.” Jeno’s tone was a warning, icy expression as he glared at Jisung. Were they hiding something? Jisung and Jeno only stared at each other , an unsaid threat hanging in the air, tension rising. Renjun pulled you back some, trying to protect you from whatever was happening.
“Jisung?” His eyes glanced over to yours, regret showing before they flitted back to Jeno’s. You looked around the room, only making eye contact with Chenle but he quickly glanced down. Everyone was focused on the silent stand down between our makeshift leader and the youngest.
“Seventeen’s dead.” Your heart flooded with relief but then anxiety as you realized that wasn’t the full truth. Jeno stood up quickly, rushing to get to Chenle but Jaemin grabbed him, holding him back while Jisung got in front of Chenle.
“What?” Your voice cut through some of the tension, wavering as you took in the news. Jaemin glanced at you while holding onto Jeno, while Chenle looked down at the ground, too ashamed to look at you. “What else are you hiding? Why wouldn’t they tell us that? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Your voice cracked, causing Jeno to turn away, walking out of the room before stomping up the stairs, slamming his room door behind him. The tension faded away, leaving behind only sadness and regret.
“Johnny’s hurt,” You tensed in Renjun’s hold, trying to comprehend what he had just told you.
“Hurt?”
“He didn’t want us to tell you until he was healed, at least more than he currently is.”
“More? How bad was he hurt?” Johnny has never been too hurt to keep you away from him. How bad were his injuries if he didn’t even want you back?
“He almost died. Dino shot him multiple times. He couldn’t be treated properly at base. They had to send him to one of our hospitals.” If you weren’t already on the ground you would’ve collapsed.
Johnny was shot. His wounds were so severe that our best medics couldn’t treat him. Tears blurred your vision at the realization that’s why he hadn’t texted you. While you were so mad and hurt over him not messaging you he was fighting for his life.
“He had to have emergency surgery.” You let out a wail as you covered your face with your hands, hearing the boys whispering around you while Renjun tried to calm you.
The love of your life was injured. Fighting for his life because of your past mistakes. Johnny, who helped you while you were healing. Protected you even while you only fighting yourself. You should’ve died all those years ago. Dino should’ve killed you instead of kidnapping you, at least then Johnny would be safe.
All because of you. You and your stupid fucking mistakes.
You will the universe to hear one last prayer.
You hope the moon will shine on you two again.
#nct 127#nct dream#wayv#nct angst#nct mafia#nct mafia fic#nct mafia au#Johnny suh#suh johnny#seo johnny#nct 127 johnny#mafia Kpop#Kpop mafia#Kpop angst#Kpop imagine#renjun#jeno#park jisung#na jaemin#lee jeno#huang renjun
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Theoretically if rio's cute neighbour, the one that watched his son, was being harassed by an ex or just some creepy guy. What would rio do?
So you can find the first neighbor headcannon list here. Also, this headcannon list got long as hell... haha, sorry?
*gif not mine*
Rio had been out of town for the last week, handling business
He’d texted you to let you know he’d be back soon--
--partly to be a good neighbor, and partly cause he wanted to see you
The two of you weren’t dating, but there was definitely something between you
(sexual tension)
And Rio was eager to see where it would go
He walked down the hall to his apartment, his bag slung over his shoulder, glad to be back in his own space
Then he saw your door
The wood was cracked, as if someone had punched it or something, and Rio stopped dead in his tracks
He knocked on your door, eyebrows knitted
You answered with a bat in your hands
“Huh...” Rio said, eyes roaming your body--from your tense posture to the bat in your hands to the tired, exhausted look in your eyes. “... Rough week without me, mama?”
“Oh, Rio,” you sighed, and Rio watched your body relax, “Sorry. I was just--”
“Expecting someone else?” He asked, walking into your apartment.
He dropped his bag at the foot of the couch and turned to you, frowning
Rio watched as you locked both locks on the door behind him; he’d been in your place about 100 times now, and he’d never seen you do that before
“Yeah, kind of...” You answered. “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” he answered, sticking his hands in his pockets, “but I don’t wanna talk about that right now. Let’s talk about you.” He titled his head. “What’s going on here?”
You sighed again, and Rio wanted to hold you. You were stressed, and he longed to fix it
“I’ve just...” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”
Rio took a few steps forward, until he was in front of you. He eyed you seriously. Someone so beautiful, he thought, shouldn’t look so sad. Not when he was around to help.
“Bother me,” he said softly, his voice firm but low
“Last year...” You began, looking down. “...I dated this guy, and he was just...” You shook your head. “He was an ass. We broke up, and I never heard from him again... till a week ago... The night before you left.”
Rio’s eyes narrowed; he remembered that night. He’d taken you out for drinks before his trip, spending the night smiling and laughing with you. He’d gotten a call in the middle of it, and when he came back to the table, he saw a man walking away. But you hadn’t said anything about it, and you seemed fine, so he didn’t ask about it.
“The guy from the restaurant...” Rio said, nodding to himself. “That’s your ex.”
“He saw us out, and when you stepped away, he came up to me--but all he did was say hi. He wasn’t weird or aggressive or anything,” you said back, “But then he... I guess he found out where I lived...”
“Yeah,” Rio licked his lips, “that his handy work on the door?”
“Yeah,” you nodded back, “Every day since that night, he’s been calling me nonstop and showing up here, pounding on the door. I called the cops, but they said there’s nothing they can do unless he actually hurts me, so--”
“I got you,” Rio said, grabbing his bag
He turned to go, but you held onto his arm.
“What are you gonna do?” You asked, eyes wide.
He looked down at you
On one hand, he could lie to you, keep up the polite charade that he made his money the legal way, that his business was simply in “providing capital” like he’d told you once before. The two of you hadn’t ever explicitly discussed what he did, but Rio knew you knew his vague descriptions of his business were just that: pointedly vague
But on the other hand... he could tell you the truth. Maybe you’d be cool with it.
Or maybe you’d shy away and turn from him.
Either way, he was going to handle this for you, but he couldn’t deny--
--he wanted you to be ok with it. With him. For some reason, as Rio looked down at you, he saw something special, something that made him feel protective of you, something beyond the lust and friendly affection he had for you
When he looked at you, he saw a partner
“I’ma tell him that the next time he so much glances up at this apartment,” Rio answered evenly, “I’m gonna put a bullet between his eyes. And if he doesn’t like that, I’ll put him down then and there.”
“You... You’d do that for me?” You asked, pretty eyes wide
“I’d of had this handled already if you would’ve told me before,” he confessed, reaching out to cup your face in his hand, “but since I’m here now, I’ll handle it personally.” He leaned down, his mouth just inches from yours. Rio wanted to kiss you so badly, he felt the desire in every part of him with you so close. “Stay here,” he told you, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
He didn’t move, though, and neither did you.
Your hand flexed on his bicep, wanting to bring him even closer. “Rio, I...thank you.”
He smirked. “Don’t thank me yet.” He leaned in closer, about to say something else
And then you kissed him
Rio had kissed a lot of women in his life (a lot...like a lot a lot...)
But never had a pair of lips felt so good against his own.
Rio’s arms wrapped around you, and he silently marveled at how perfectly you fit against him. He titled his head, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned into him.
Chuckling, Rio’s hands went to your waist, and he led you towards the couch
You took a hold of his collar and dragged him down onto the couch with you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he laid on top of you
“Baby,” he chuckled into your lips, “I gotta go.”
“I know,” you said back, grinning, “I just need a few more minutes...”
He laughed. “For what?” He asked, even as he dipped his head down to start kissing your neck. The little sounds you made when his lips ghosted against your skin were driving him wild.
...the ex might have to wait a bit.
Rio was kissing your collarbones while lifting up your shirt when a loud band sounded behind him
You jumped, but Rio just turned lazily, one eyebrow raised
“It’s him,” you whispered, and when Rio looked down at you, he could see the fear in your eyes
This, he decided, would be the last time you would ever look like that
“Relax,” he said, his voice low and calm. He leaned down and kissed you sweetly, and he felt you relax under his touch. “I got this. Just stay here, mi bonita chica.”
Rio got up, kissing the top of your head as you sat up, and reached down into his bag.
“Y/N,” the banging was louder now, “I’m not playing with you--open this damn door right now!”
Rio grinned--it would be his pleasure
Rio opened the door and leaned on the doorway, a lazy smirk on his face. “Hey,” he greeted the man, “you know this is a private residence?”
The man blinked, taking a step back, and Rio chuckled. He knew this type: big, loud, and bad--until someone badder came around.
“Wh--what the hell are you doing here...?” The man asked, craning his neck to try to peek into the apartment.
“Yo,” Rio stood up straight, shaking his head, “What you lookin’ for? Huh?” He stepped up, and your ex stepped back again. “Y/N?” He asked. “She ain’t your concern no more, homie. I am.”
“I--I don’t--”
“Oh,” Rio chuckled, “That’s right, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself.” He whipped out his gun, pointing it directly at the guy’s paling face. “I’m Rio. I’m the man Y/N’s currently seeing, and she wanted me to let you know that this shit,” he waved the gun, the smile no longer on his face, and the man backed up into the wall, eyes wide with terror, “Is done with. You stop callin’, you stop comin’ around, and you definitely stop trying to intimidate her into talkin’ to you. Matter of fact,” Rio went on, “the next time you see her, you better get the fuck away, cause if I hear about you even breathing in the same space as her again,” he stepped up and pressed the golden gun into the guy’s forehead, “I can’t promise I’ll stay this controlled. Is that understood?”
The ex nodded, looking like a bobblehead with his huge eyes “I---”
“No no no,” Rio smiled, “don’t speak.” He glanced back at you, you were standing in front of the couch now, watching. “You got any cash on you?”
He nodded
“Great,” Rio said brightly, “let’s see it.”
The guy reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, handing it over to Rio
“Mm...” Rio eyed his ID, memorizing the name and address for later use. “This looks like just enough to cover the cost of repairing the door,” he said, taking out a wad of bills, “and a lil extra for emotional damage.”
Rio threw the wallet back at your ex, who caught it, eyes never leaving the gun in Rio’s hand
“Okay now...” Rio grinned. “Run.”
He didn’t have to say it twice, your ex scurried away so quickly, that he fell half-way down the hall and just crawled into the elevator. If Rio didn’t know any better, he’d say he smelt piss in the hall now...
Rio closed your door, tossing the gun--which was empty--onto his bag on the floor
He turned to you, laughing when you launched yourself into his arms
“Thank you,” you said, your head buried in his chest, “thank you, thank you, thank you--”
“I told you,” he said, smiling down at you, “I got you. And yo, I was thinkin’...” He held up the cash. “...why don’t you use this on some self-defense lessons, just for fun?”
“But what about the door?”
“Ah, baby,” he leaned down, kissing you, “that’s what we got a super for!”
*******************************************************************************************
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Bird Bones
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“So, did you guys think about it?” Seokjin asked casually, watching me struggle back into my shoes after getting down from the examination table. He looked a little nervous as he stared at me and I bit my lips.
“I haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He’s gone to Seoul with Hoseok for their dance showcase.” I said hesitantly. The last few weeks had been hectic, with Hoseok preparing for the showcase and me having to tell the administration I was pregnant. Surprisingly, most of my professors were kind about it, agreeing to share notes with me personally on days when I had to miss classes. I would miss out on a few lab credits because they coincided pretty closely with my due date but that was a whole six months away and I didn’t want to worry about it right now.
Seokjin hummed in response and waited till I was sitting down in front of him before leveling a look at me.
“I see and ….he would have to agree too...because?” Seokjin asked pointedly, and I flinched.
It was a loaded question, one that made my throat dry.
We weren’t married. There was zero reason to have his approval to put the baby up for adoption.
With Jungkook out of town , his parents had contacted me again about the NDA. I’d told them to sort it out with their son first before approaching me again , but I knew they were getting nervous. Jungkook was making it clear that he was sticking around and it was making everyone nervous.
Including me.
“Its not... I’m not going to say no if he says no or anything like that. It’s just ... he asked me to keep him in the loop that’s it.” I protested.
“I’m not saying anything.” He held his hands up. “ Just ....remember who he is, yeah? He’s not.... He’s not for you.”
It was hard to forget , I thought miserably, what with everyone throwing it at my face every day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I continued to stay at Hoseok’s place while he was at the showcase. It was better than the dorm for sure and I knew that it only made people resent me more. As a professor in my college, Hoseok had a lot of perks and most of my peers thought i was enjoying them in exchange for sleeping with him.
On the weekend before he was due to come back home, Hoseok called me from his hotel room.
“How are you holding up?” He asked casually and I could hear voices in the background. I wanted to ask him about Jungkook but I didn’t.
“I’m fine. I got my check up and Seokjin oppa told me we could fix a date to meet Yoongi and Namjoon.” I said softly, settling into the comfortable couch and tugging on the phone line.
“Hmm.... fair enough. I’ll let Jungkook know. He’s out with Sana tonight so-”
“Sana?” I felt my breath catch in surprise.
“Oh, yeah. she tagged along....you didn’t know?” Hoseok said casually and I gulped.
“Uh...no.. I mean ...whatever...they’re....she’s his girlfriend, right...” I laughed, sounding incredibly hollow to my own ears. Hoseok would see right through it.
“Fiancee.” He said curtly.
“What?”
“She isn’t just a girlfriend. She’s his fiancee...he proposed to her last year on the Han river with a hundred grand ring.....” His tone was dry and emotionless and yet each word cut to the bone. I couldn’t fucking breathe.
“You’re....you’re trying to hurt me.�� I accused hoarsely.
He growled.
“No, I’m fucking pissed that this thing , this fact that Jungkook is engaged to Sana has been true for a whole damn year and yet all of a sudden it fucking hurts you because you’re letting your emotions get the better of you... Have I not taught you anything, Dasom?”
I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, my breathing ragged. He was right. He was absolutely right but it stung because Jungkook was.... Jungkook was so kind. So ridiculously endearing with his childlike amazement, his adorable possessiveness over me and yet somehow so non judgmental and so eager to be a part of the baby’s life and how on earth could I not like someone who only seemed to want to care for me??
And he was wrong.
I wasn’t an idiot. I had no intention of building castles in the air, dreaming of a happily ever after with someone like Jungkook. I would get through this and things would go back to the way they were.
Just me and.... well Just me. Alone. By myself. The way it has always been.
I took a deep shuddering breath. I wasn’t up to explaining all this to Hoseok. Not tonight when he was clearly angry.
“I hope the showcase goes well, oppa.” I whispered, hanging up before he could respond. The phone rang a second later and I left it off the hook after disconnecting it..
I sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness. I had to talk to Jungkook as soon as he got back. We needed a game plan. A clear end to this thing between us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hoseok oppa thinks we should meet Yoongi and Namjoon this weekend. “ I said casually, watching Jungkook closely as he sipped his iced tea. He stopped for a second, eyes widening before landing on mine.
It was a late Sunday afternoon and he had agreed to meet me for coffee so we could talk about the dinner. He looked just as good as ever, bright and cheerful. The showcase had gone really well according to Hoseok and Jungkook had gotten offers from a whole bunch of entertainment agencies.
“So soon?” He asked evenly, grip tightening on the drink.
I shrugged staring at the long smooth fingers. Somedays i tried to remember that night. I couldn’t imagine us being graceful, having sex while drunk out of our minds . Had he been gentle? Rough? What did he like in bed? I vaguely remembered the finger shaped bruises on my wrists, like someone had gripped them together.
Staring at his hands now, I wondered how it must’ve felt, being held like that.
I shook my head to clear it. Nothing good would come from going down that path.
“I’m thirteen weeks along now...First trimester is over ….there's not a lot of chance to miscarry and-”
“What the fuck why would you say that?” He whisper shouted and I frowned.
“Jungkook....”
“That’s our child you’re talking about! Don’t even say that word!”
I could only stare at him.
“It’s going to be very difficult for you if you don’t distance yourself from this baby “ I said quietly. And me.
Jungkook just stared at me , his eyes blazing.
“Our baby.... Say it. It’s our fucking baby. It’s not just a baby or this baby. It’s ours. We made it. Its’ going to...fucking look like us, and it’s going to get our traits and ….I just don’t understand how you can be so callous about something so amazing and----it’s our baby, Dasom...” He was looking at me in disbelief and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“No it fucking isn’t!!!” I hissed angrily, my heart beating fast, “ It’s not ours, Jungkook. It’s... it’s not something we should be celebrating..... You and I... we’re a fucking mistake. That night was a fucking mistake and this, this baby is nothing more than an unfortunate soul that’s going to have to share the consequences of our horrendous mistake that night!” I felt tears sting.
I refused to let his words get to me. To make me feel guilty. Jungkook with his golden life, with his perfectly gorgeous fiancee and his filthy rich parents could afford to wax poetic about the joys of parenting but i couldn’t.
I was a poor fucking orphan with a mother who had only cared about what was between her legs. I had to fight tooth and nail just to break out of the mould everyone had made for me,.
“Dasom-”
“No, stop...Just...stop and for once get rid of those rose tinted glasses you have on, and listen to me okay? We’re going to give the baby up for adoption....He or she is going to be raised by kind, loving parents who can provide a stable happy environment . We’re going to stop talking to each other after that. You’re going to go get married to your Fiancee ….I’m going to go and try and build a life for myself. That’s what’s in our future....Not some utopian universe where we raise this child , taking turns changing diapers and weekends at the fucking zoo!!” I finished bitterly.
“Why do we have to stop talking to each other?” He shot back defiantly and i felt my pulse pound.
I glared at him and he just kept staring back at me.
“Don’t-” I began but he held his hand up.
“I told you , I’m not going to do everything my parents ask me to. I’m... I’m trying to build a life for myself too alright? I’m not going to just... I’m not married yet. I’m not married yet.” He repeated and I felt a laugh of disbelief bubble up inside me.
“What the fuck does that even mean? You’re engaged-”
“I was engaged before I was fucking born. “ He snapped, running fingers through his hair in evident frustration. “ Sana and I grew up together. We just...we’ve been told that we'll be together all our lives and its all we have ever known. But that doesn’t mean its too late for us to think about other things...other options...”
“And you’re saying I’m another option? You don’t even like me JeonJungkook-” i laughed in disbelief.
“I think you’re beautiful.” He said softly and I felt my jaw come unhinged.
What.
What?
“ I saw you two years ago when you dropped by the practice room to meet Hobi hyung.. I thought you were beautiful then... So wildly uncaring about what others thought and I thought you looked amazing with your long hair and easy smile...I still do.” He was staring right at me and i felt heat creep up my neck.
I shook my head.
“I’m not listening to this nonsense.” i said sharply, reaching for my bag from the chair next to me.
“Hyung knows... Its why he’s always telling you not to trust me.... He knows how I feel about you and he doesn’t want the competition...” He sneered and I felt my hackles rise. Jungkook’s jealousy towards Hoseok was the most irrational thing in the whole world and it pissed me off so bad.
“Now I know you really are full of shit-”
“He’s in love with you. He’s always been in love with you and you’re too caught up in your own self pity to notice that.” He grabbed my wrist when I tried to get up from the chair. “ Sit the fuck down and let me finish.”
“You’re spouting nonsense. I’m not interested in it...” I hissed back and he laughed.
“Nonsense? I’ve never hidden how I felt about you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed me watching you , because everyone else has. Why else do you think Sana is so threatened? She knows... She knows I’m attracted to you...Knows that I want-----” He stopped and I knew he was going to say ‘you’
‘ Sana knows that I want you’ .
I stared at him in disbelief.
But he just barreled on, completely unbothered by how upset I was.
“ I want to get to know you better. And fine, even if you don’t want to keep the baby, there is no fucking way I’m going to stop talking to you.... “ He finished.
I tried to gather my sense which felt like they’d been scattered to the seven winds.
“Really, you talk about your fiancee so flippantly....but I heard you had a cozy little honeymoon in Seoul during your showcase...what of that?” I hated myself as soon as I said it because it made sound so horribly jealous.
Jungkook snorted.
“Let me guess, Hobi hyung told you that huh? I bet he conveniently failed to mention that she was attending a different showcase , a whole damn district away? That we only went out for dinner one night and I was back in like an hour?”
I stared at him, thrown . I felt confused and disoriented, not sure what was happening and why.
This had gone on long enough.
I could not let this man do this to me. I just couldn’t.
“Your parents met me again.” i said softly, staring right at him. “ They wanted me to sign the NDA. Did you tell them this? Can you go tell them this? Go break up with your fiancee, tell your daddy you want to date the girl you knocked up while you were drunk out of your mind. And then, once he disowns you and kicks you out of your house and you have nowhere else to go, come see me. We’ll go out on a date, yeah?”
I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. So I stood up. I slung my bag up on my shoulders and stared down at him.
“I’m meeting them on Saturday. If you want to be there, you can. And regardless of whether you turn up or not...I’m going. I’m giving the baby up for adoption and I’m getting on with my life. ” I said quietly.
I walked out of the cafe without looking back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoongi sat across from me, hands twisting nervously in his lap while Namjoon poured us some water from the cut class decanter on the table. Next to me, Jungkook looked subdued and upset, eyes darting between the two men on occasion. I hadn’t talked to him after my outburst at the cafe
I peered around the house, an expensive three bedroom flat located in a good neighborhood. It was decorated tastefully and I could tell that even Jungkook was reluctantly impressed by how clean and neat everything looked. I played with the hem of my blouse while Hoseok finished his phone call, not sure what to say or how to start.
“How are you feeling, Dasom?” Namjoon asked finally, flashing me a smile with deep dimples on either cheeks.
“I’m doing good. I’m fourteen weeks along now and the nausea has gone down.”
Yoongi hummed.
“My sister says the first three months are the worst.” He smiled a little and I smiled back, taking in the soft curves of his face and the nervous fingers on the lap. He looked just as terrified as I felt.
“I’m glad you guys could meet with us. We just want to say that we’re so grateful that you guys even considered us.” Namjoon said in a rush, eyes flooding with warmth as he glanced between me and Jungkook. I felt him stiffen next to me and reached out, curling my fingers around his, pulling him closer. I linked our fingers and squeezed lightly. He squeezed back.
“We only want what’s best for the baby, right Kook?” I said softly. He looked up at me then and I felt my heart crack at the light sheen I saw there.
“Yeah...I...I love the baby.” He whispered and I felt a lump in my throat.
The past few weeks, I had found myself hanging out with him way too much for my liking. For some reason, Sana stopped talking to me. She would throw occasional glares at me but she stayed away. Jungkook was conspicuously respectful. Never crossing a line enough for me to kick him away. He would throw that occasional remark that implied he was interested and shrug it off when I rejected him again.
But he also told me that he had always wanted a family first. A wife, two kids, picket fence and all that. He loved kids, had always been the designated babysitter to his umpteen cousins. He loved babies and he wanted as many as his fututre wife would give him. And then without warning he had just stared at me.
I hadn’t trusted myself to respond to that.
The mind games left me exhausted. I didn’t ….not like him. He was funny , sweet and intelligent. He liked talking and he liked listening. It was just hard to enjoy when I knew what he was . A chaebol heir to a fortune. He spoke of his family with a casually dismissive attitude, about how they didn’t really give a damn about who he married and that it wouldn't be a big deal if he broke up with Sana.
But I had to remind myself that he hadn’t done it. He hadn’t broken up with her. And that meant that no matter how dismissive he was, he knew that something like that wouldn’t go by without repercussions. The fantasy of Jungkook leaving his gorgeous girlfriend because he couldn’t live without me was just that, a fantasy.
Hoseok’s voice broke me out of my reverie.
“They’re both too young to go through with this.... Its going to be painful but like Dasom says, its the baby we need to think about.” Hoseok had hung up the phone and he stared at Jungkook, his gaze softening when he saw how miserable the younger looked.
I pulled myself together and watched Namjoon pull out a file, containing all the formalities we would have to go through. /As i heard him explain everything, his eyes clear and intelligent, his tone gentle and kind, I felt myself making my choice. Yoongi and Namjoon loved each other deeply . They leaned on each other, evident in the way they held hands every few minutes, smiling and reassuring each other. They loved each other and they could love this baby.
They would love this baby.
My mind was made up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You need a ride home?” Hoseok asked casually, two hours later after we had bid goodbye to Yoongi and Namjoon.
Next to me Jungkook stiffened.
“I’ll drive her.” He said curtly and Hoseok ignored him, still holding a hand out.
“That’s fine Oppa, Jungkook and I need to talk.” I said tiredly. We did. There was a whole lot of formalities to be done with regards to the adoption and I wanted to talk to him about the possibility of an open adoption. Just in case he was interested.
“You can talk tomorrow. Its already past ten-” Hoseok began but Jungkook laughed, loud and jarring.
“What you think I’ll have my way with her and knock her up? Bit too late to worry about that right?” Jungkook drawled next to me and I felt my eyes widen in shock.
“What the- Jungkook are you crazy? Apologize!!” I hissed but he glared back at Hoseok defiantly.
Hobi chuckled a bit.
“You’re really asking to get your ass kicked Kook-ah... I’d tone down the blatant disrespect if I were you....” He said , eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Maybe I will, if you stop lying to Dasom about how you really feel about her.”
I lost it entirely, turning around to shove him away.
“Jungkook what the fuck?!” I shouted but he gripped my wrists, stopping me from hitting him again.
“Tell her hyung....tell her how you picked up a fucking engagement ring in Seoul....? How you told Seokjin hyung that you were going to propose when she graduates because, let me quote you, ‘ she’s docile and adjusting. She’ll make a nice companion’“
I froze. I turned around to stare at Hoseok and felt my heart drop at the sharp sharp look of guilt om his face.
I stopped struggling against Jungkook, sagging against him when ice cold disbelief flooded my veins.
No. No , it couldn’t be.
“You-what?” I whispered.
Hoseok stared at me.
“ Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.” He said blankly. I felt bile rise up my throat.
“Oppa-”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Hoseok snapped.
I flinched when Jungkook’s grip tightened around me , a growl making his chest tremble.
“Hyung , don’t-” He began angrily but Hoseok cut him off, staring at me with blazing eyes.
“You’re always around me ..” Hoseok ground out, “ You’re literally the only person I’ve known and loved all my life.... So sue me for wanting to take responsibility for you and-”
“I’m not your responsibility.....I’m twenty years old...”
“And look how well you’re doing yeah? Knocked up with some guy’s bastard .....Just like your moth-”
I felt Jungkook move behind me and my instinct kicked in. I turned quickly gripping his arms and putting myself between them to stop him from lunging at Hoseok.
Hoseok looked unapologetic as he stared at me.
“If you marry me, you’ll at least be respectable.” He said softly and it was like a veil getting torn, showing him for who he really was.
Someone who thought I was a charity case. A poor , flailing mess of a human that needed his charity to survive.
I nodded quietly.
“Okay. Thank you for lowering yourself enough to consider marriage with someone like me....” I said softly and he hissed.
“That’s not what I-”
“That’s exactly what you meant.” I said sharply, turning around. I couldn’t look at him anymore.
“Take me back to the dorms, yeah?” I looked at Jungkook and he nodded.
“Anything you want.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around me before throwing one last glare at Hoseok.
Author’s note : Send me an ask about what you thought and I will love you forever <3
#jungkook fics#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#bts smut fic#bts smut#bts fics#bts fanfic#jungkook#jeon jungguk#jungkook fanfic
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“I trust you with my life...” Ellie Williams x reader
Prompt: I trust you with my life
Triggers: mentions of suicide/self-harm, mentioned blood
Notes: I did a small cross over of the Telltale Walking Dead series, its not really good but I wanted to put Clementine and Violet into the story
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“RUN!”
Y/n heard the loud screech followed by several gunshots coming from the door that her girlfriend, Ellie, had just gone through. Instinctively she tightened her grip on her gun, watching as Ellie flew out of the door and closed it, pressing her body weight against the curving piece of wood. The door bent with each thud and with the old screws slowly coming loose, it wouldn’t take much more effort to rip them from their holes.
Y/n looked around, noticing the bookcase next to the door. She immediately ran over and started shoving the bookcase in front of the door, hearing Ellie continually yell at her to run. “Y/n go!” Ellie yelled, her strength starting to falter as more and more infected start ramming into the door.
Y/n ignored her pleas and pushed the bookcase until it practically on top of the other girl. “Shove it over!” She shouted.
“Just go!”
“Move out of the fucking way or I will throw this shelf on top of you!”
Just as she was about to respond, the door broke of its hinges. Ellie jumped back, barely missing the swinging arms of a Clicker as Y/n threw the bookcase on top of it. The infected continued banging on the door, some trying to climb through the small area that the shelf couldn’t cover. Ellie looked over, saying, “That’s not gonna hold for long. We have to move.”
Y/n nodded in agreement, grabbing an extra bottle and the small amount of ammo that was in the kitchen. Ellie looked over at the other girl while reloading her guns before she ran out the door. Y/n followed close behind.
They followed the streets until they were a safe distance away from the old office filled with infected. Slowing down, Y/n jogged over to a building on the side of the road. Seems empty, she thought nodding to herself. “Come on,” she called to Ellie, opening the door and stepping into the old, dimly lit coffee shop. The walls were covered with shelves, the books once on them splayed everywhere from raiders and people looking for anything that might be of use. Tables and chairs were turned over, the old coffee machines shuffled around on the counters. Y/n walked over to the register, clicking it open. She quickly grabbed the ammo hidden inside before closing it again.
Ellie walked inside, ducking her head when a cloud of dust fell on her from closing the door. “Looks like the best place to spend the night, I’ll check the back for infected,” Y/n readied her gun and moved to the old door behind the counter. She lightly stepped into the entryway and heard the screech of a Clicker somewhere inside. Following the noise down the hall, she looked to the bathroom door next to her, hearing the clicking louder than before. Let’s go, she thought, gripping her pistol.
Behind the door, she found a Clicker tied up against the old toilet. Y/n took a quick look around the room, noticing a piece of paper wedged beside the mirror before she aimed and killed the infected creature. The body slumped down, head falling forward as the shot finished its ring within the small space.
Looking back at the note, Y/n picked it up and unfolded it, reading the contents of it to herself.
Hey, to whoever finds me, thank you. I… I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself and I couldn’t make Vi do it for me, she doesn’t deserve to do that. She said she’d come back to finish the job when she thought she was strong enough, but if you’re reading this, I guess she just never made it back. I told her to go, I don’t regret that choice, she’s lost to many people already, I wouldn’t let her count me with the people she loved that she’s had to kill.
When you kill me, leave this note so that Vi can come back and see it, she can know that I will never blame her and that she… that she’s amazing.
Violet,
I love you. Always and forever. No fucking virus, person, not even death can stop me from loving you. Even if my body isn’t connected with my mind anymore, I want you to know that I am going to be haunting you.
I’m always with you, Violet. Keep Goofball safe.
Remember, you’re still not bitten.
Love,
C.
Y/n looked up at the Clicker, seeing the old clothes hanging off her shoulders, a jean jacket discarded to side probably from when the fever was setting in. She looked down at the note once more, seeing the tear stains and the erase marks from trying to find the right words, the last words that would ever be known from her. Y/n noticed a knife placed next to the jacket, wrapped in a small piece of cloth. She carefully picked it up unwrapped it, seeing a beautiful long 7-inch knife, the handle was made of what felt like pure leather. Y/n spun it in her hands testing the weight of it before she noticed the small engraving on the side.
Happy Birthday Clem! Love you, forever and always. Don’t get bitten.
Vi and Goofball
Y/n looked over at the body of the infected creature, the person who used to have someone who loved them and who they had loved just as much. She took the knife and stabbed it through the note next to the body, making sure it was visible to anyone who walked through the door. Come back, Violet. She might be dead, but she needs you right now, Y/n thought, closing the door behind her before walking to the front of the shop.
“Took care of it?” Ellie asked once Y/n stepped back into the small coffee shop.
She nodded her head, shrugging her backpack onto the floor. She let out a small wince as she felt a sting down her left arm. “Ah, shit.” Y/n looked to her arm to see a gash reaching from her shoulder to the top of her elbow. She lightly moved her arm, seeing how deep it was or if she would need stitches when they got back to Jackson.
Ellie’s face scrunched with worry at the curse. She looked over to see Y/n rummaging through her bag for something when she noticed the line of blood seeping down the side of her girlfriend’s shirt. “Y/n,” she mumbled, storming over to look at the wound.
“Its fine, its fine. Nothing too deep, probably won’t need stitches, I just want to bandage it up before we head back out again.”
Ellie grabbed her arm, eliciting a small hiss of pain from the other girl, and gently turning it to inspect the bloodied arm. She sighed, looking up at Y/n before sitting her on the counter and grabbing a med kit from her bag. “Thanks,” Y/n mumbled, sliding back and leaning her arm forward so Ellie could apply the bandage.
Ellie didn’t reply. She stared intently at the bandage, making sure to keep it evenly placed and just tight enough to stop most of the bleeding. Silence ensued for several minutes as she continued the to wrap the hand-crafted bandage. “You should have run…” she whispered, stuffing the end of the bandage into itself.
Y/n glanced up at the girl in front of her, seeing the light reflect off her eyes. “If I had run, you wouldn’t be here.”
“But you wouldn’t have been hurt.”
“Injuries can heal.”
“It’s better me than you.”
“Why would you say that?” Y/n asked, scoffing at the girl.
“Because it’s true, I could have saved the world, I could have saved you and you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit anymore.” She turned her head, stepping away from the counter.
Y/n sat up and grabbed her before she could move any farther. “If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be here.”
This time Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “What does that even mean?”
“Ellie.” Y/n stood up and walked over to the other girl, forcing her to look up. “I would be dead if it wasn’t for you being here.”
“Jesse or Dina easily could have saved you from the infected,” she whispered, going to turn away again.
Y/n shook her head again. “Jesse and Dina aren’t you. They don’t notice when I’m not really feeling myself or when I’m having a rough time with things. They don’t know me like you do. You’ve saved me from more things than infected. I don’t think you realize it but you’ve saved me from other people, even from myself.”
Ellie’s eyes widened as she heard this but Y/n kept talking. “You can’t say that I would be better off with you gone or dead, because believe me I wouldn’t. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be infected laying in fucking field littered with bodies. You helped me when I first came to Jackson, you didn’t even realize how much you helped me when you killed David, you stopped me from-” she shook her head as though to rid herself of the memory “-something, just because you noticed that I looked down that day when I went outside the walls with my horse. If you weren’t here, I’d be dead, probably infected too. So, don’t ever-” she lifted her finger and jabbed it in the middle of Ellie’s chest, “-ever say that you shouldn’t be here.”
By the end of Y/n’s speech her eyes were red from holding in tears while the green-eyed girl just stared down at her. Ellie immediately wrapped her in a hug, shoving her face into the crook of Y/n neck. “I love you,” she whispered. “I trust you with my life…”
Y/n shakily sighed, returning the hug. “And I trust you with mine…”
#tlou ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#Ellie TLOU#tlou2#tlou part II#tlou fanfic#telltale walking dead#twdg violentine#lesbian#xreader
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Sundays l Spencer Reid Fic
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid
Category: Angst
Summary: Reader helps Spencer grieve the loss of a loved one, and loses parts of herself in the process.
A/N: Full disclaimer, angst is NOT my strong suit and for that reason, I’ve been sitting on this fic for a while. Mostly because I wasn’t sure if I liked it, wasn’t sure if it was sad enough, wasn’t sure if a Maeve-mentioned content would interest anyone, and wasn’t sure if I could keep staring at this god damn draft anymore. Alas, Sundays is here and I hope it hurts :)
And of course a huge thank you to my lovey betas @imagining-in-the-margins and @wishingwellwriting for helping me make this as painful as possible!
Content Warning: Season 8 spoilers, mention of drinking/being drunk, mention of death, grieving, a brief kiss, unrequited love
Word count: 4.1k
Sundays were his hardest days.
Sundays were their days.
I had been there for hours, doing dishes and tidying up the living room while he slept. I never minded, he needed it. He needed a break from the constant sadness that seemed to radiate from inside him. I never knew so much sadness could exist in the same place at one time.
I turned to see him sitting up on the couch with his shoulders slumped, an empty expression on his face.
Grabbing the coffee on the counter, I crossed the room and placed it on the side table before sitting on the coffee table in front of him. I took his hands in mine and rubbed my thumbs across the backs of them. They were cold and bony, almost inhuman.
He swallowed hard and looked up at me, meeting my eyes for a brief moment before tears started to form. His face had thinned too, his cheeks sunken and the hollows under his eyes colored a dark purple. He’d stopped eating weeks ago.
He bit his bottom lip before his gaze dropped back down to his lap.
His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but closed again. A broken breath shuddered from his lungs, and I thought it might only be a moment before the sobs ripped through his body. He wasn’t saying much these days, which was unusual for Spencer. He was a fountain of knowledge who often loved to share what his eidetic memory had ingrained in his mind, but as of late the light normally found behind his eyes was dull and uninviting.
I gave his hands a final squeeze before I reluctantly got up to finish tidying. It was enough of a mess inside his head without his home being a mess, too. I knew how that could be; to have your only reprieve be what’s in your head. Lately, he preferred to be alone. I thought sometimes that if I didn’t have a key, he wouldn’t even have let me in.
Sometimes he would fall asleep on my shoulder or my lap, depending on how we were situated. It wasn’t so much a matter of comfort, but convenience. Whatever position we were in before he slipped into unconsciousness became our marble sculpted pose until he woke. Sleep seemed to be his only solace- the only place he could be happy and I wasn’t keen on disturbing that.
Sometimes he would cry in his sleep, and all I could do was try to comfort him in his unconscious state. Sometimes, he would ask me to hold him while he cried, but those times were few and far between. In the years I’d known Spencer, we never really touched. He hugged me once, briefly, then never again. The first few days I’d spent at his apartment with him were spent offering condolences from across the room. He recoiled at my touch- a hand on the back or an accidental brush against his arm. When he started to seek the contact, I knew something was wrong. A man so touch-averse leaving his fingerprints on me should’ve felt like heaven after years of wondering, but all it did was worry me.
He had asked me to dance once. He said they’d always talked about dancing to a song they both really loved and how badly it hurt to know he’d never get the chance to dance with her. I agreed, partially because he had spent so much time telling me how VR therapy was on the rise and helping grieving parents with the loss of their children, and partially because... well, how exactly are you supposed to say no to a grown man drowning himself in memories that weren’t quite made? You don’t. You let him wrap his arms around you and pull you down under the waves with him so he doesn’t feel so alone.
We swayed in the living room for the better part of an hour. He nuzzled his face into my neck and ran his hands along the contours of my back, occasionally resting them on my hips. I tried catching his eye when he shifted positions but he wouldn’t ever look directly at me. I wondered if he was trying to imagine her under his fingertips instead. When he would start to cry, I could feel the wetness soaking into my shirt. I did the only thing that felt safe to do in that moment- held him tighter and kept quiet.
My hands found themselves in his hair as we swayed, his arms snaking tighter around my waist, pulling us closer together. I did my best not to think about how good it felt to be wrapped up in him, or what about this felt good for him or for what reason.
I wondered what song he was playing in his head. He never actually turned the song on, and asking felt like an intrusion on the memory he was trying to create with her while I was busy trying to twist this memory myself, with him.
When we finally broke apart, his hand came to cup my face as he choked on a sob. His eyes were bloodshot and still forming new tears.
God, my heart hurt for him. I reached my hand to cover his still pressed against my cheek and offered a small smile. He blinked hard, forcing the tears brimming in the corners of his eyes to fall while he placed his other hand on my jaw. As he pressed his forehead to mine, I closed my eyes and let his silent sobs shake both of our bodies.
It wasn’t until his hands started guiding my face to his that I realized what was happening.
His lips pressed to mine between broken cries, desperately searching for the response only she could give him.
I froze.
His thumbs ran across my cheekbones as he stifled a cry, guiding my face back to his.
Before our lips could connect again, I turned away, the kiss landing on my cheek instead.
“Spencer,” I said gently, fearing that my words would rip apart the bandages I had so carefully wound around his heart. “Spencer, I’m not her.”
I knew it would be wrong to be jealous of a dead woman, but when I spoke those words, they weren’t born out of jealousy or wishing I was her so I could finally feel wanted by Spencer... Those words were for Spencer. For his grieving. For him to be able to discern reality from the place he had run off to in his mind.
His eyes stayed closed for a moment.
“I know,” he breathed as his hands dropped from my face to his sides.
I licked my lips and took a step back, trying to create some space between the memory he had just made and who I actually was. I could taste him on my lips and did everything I could not to savor it.
“Maybe you could take a nap, hm? I’m gonna go to the store.”
He turned away and shuffled toward the couch, slowly sinking onto his side.
“I’ll be back, Spencer.” I waited for a response that I should have known wasn’t coming. Pulling the door closed behind me, I heard a muffled sob from the other side of the wood.
——
Fumbling with the key in the lock, I finally kicked the door open enough to shoulder the rest of my way in. Upon entering the apartment, I was met with an absolute mess. Books had flown off the shelf and littered the carpet. The flower vase I’d brought over to foster some sense of life in the apartment now only existed as shattered fragments on the floor.
“Spencer, what the hell?” I walked through the landmines of glass and literature on the floor to put the bags in my arms on the counter. I looked out across the room to find him casually draped in a chair in the corner with a bottle of brown liquor resting on his knee. His arm rested on the back of the chair while his legs spread in front of him like he was waiting for a lap dance.
“Are you drinking?”
“Why are you here?” He sneered, turning his nose up at me. “Have I been so hospitable that you just can’t stay away?”
Shooting him a look, I hung my key ring up by the door, taking a moment to swallow the thought of him not wanting me here anymore. “I told you I was coming back,” I replied evenly.
He snorted and took a long sip from the bottle, wincing as he swallowed.
“You don’t even drink. Where did you get this?” I crossed the room and snatched the bottle from his hand. He didn’t try to stop me.
“What else am I supposed to do?” He asked. His tone was cold, but his voice was so clearly pained.
“Not this.” I walked back over to the sink, stepping over the remnants of the vase to pour what was left of the bottle down the drain.
“If I believed in God, I’d pray,” he said with a bitter laugh.
Silence from the rest of the apartment crept in to fill the space between us. I stared at his slumped figure in the chair but he remained unphased, staring at the floor with his brows knit together. I grabbed a glass of water and the broom before making my way over to where he’d slumped down further in the chair.
“Are you gonna throw this one on on the floor, too?” I asked before extending the glass to him.
He just stared at it in my hand like he wasn’t sure. I took a chance and placed it on the table next to him and turned back to start sweeping the mess he had made.
“Sorry, let me–” he slurred.
“No, it’s fine. You don’t have–”
“Shit!” He hissed from behind me, undoubtedly stepping in the shards of glass.
“-shoes on” I finished. I turned to see him hobbling back towards the chair, stumbling and limping with one foot pulled up awkwardly.
----
He sat on the edge of the toilet with his foot in my lap as I tweezed out the remaining splinters of glass from the tender skin. He winced and jerked and hissed as I worked.
“Spencer, stop moving, that’s only making it hurt worse.”
“Yeah, well–” he started.
“Haven’t you been shot before?” I asked, stopping to look up at the grown man squirming while perched atop the porcelain throne.
He grumbled an answer while I took to finishing up the excavation attempt. Satisfied with my work, I stood and offered my hand for him to stand as well. He looked at my outreached hand then my face, stood on his own and tested putting some weight on the foot.
I dropped my hand and looked down at his foot instead.
“Does it hurt?”
“It all hurts,” he said matter of factly, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. I knew he wasn’t just talking about his foot but I’d run out of comforting words weeks ago.
Silence hung between us for a moment while I tried to find something to say to him.
“Well why don’t you shower? It’ll help with your foot and hopefully sober you up.”
He snorted, but reached for a towel on the rack behind me anyways. I scooted past him in the small room, backing up against the wall to slide past him. He made no attempt to move as my chest skimmed his, turning his head to face me head on instead. The smell of the liquor on his breath fanned across my face and choked me.
“And brush your teeth, too.” I quipped before closing the door a little more forcefully than necessary on my way out.
I had never seen Spencer like this. I paced the living room, chewing my bottom lip. He had never had a drink in the years we’d been friends, let alone gotten drunk. Grief makes you do dumb things though, right? He was just coping. He was coping with the loss of a loved one. He was numbing that pain. He needed to get away from the pain.
But god, this wasn’t Spencer. At least, this wasn’t my Spencer. Although, he never really was my Spencer, was he? Maybe it was me who needed a break. I gathered my bag and keys from the table by the door, silently running through the checklist in my head– keys, phone, wallet, sweatshirt.
Shit.
My sweatshirt was still in his bedroom where we’d spent the day reading yesterday. Things had felt almost normal for just a few hours, both of us lost in our own worlds between pages. Fiction providing a long enough distraction for him to relax, to let normalcy slip past the walls he put up. I made my way back to the bedroom, hoping to slip in and out before he was finished in the bathroom.
I had just picked up my sweater and thrown it over my arm when he emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean pajamas, rubbing his hair with a towel. He did a quick once over of the contents in my hands and stopped drying, his arms falling to his sides.
“What are you doing?” he asked, a slight panic hidden in his tone.
I pointed my thumb towards the door. “I’m gonna go.”
“Well.. I mean… why?” He seemed genuinely confused.
These past few weeks had changed him, and had been changing me too. I’d somehow allowed myself to get swept up in the fantasy he had created to not feel so alone. In becoming a part of that, I had never felt so alone in my life.
“I just think I should go. For tonight, at least. I’ll swing by again soon.” I hitched my bag higher onto my shoulder and gave him my best attempt at a reassuring smile.
He looked at the towel in his hand and around the room, as if the answer might be there.
“Please don’t go,” he said quietly when he couldn’t find the answer he was looking for. I wasn’t even sure if he said it or if I was imagining things, wanting to stay more than I wanted to go.
“Spence–”
“Please. I’m sorry for earlier. I’m so, so sorry. I just–” He took a step towards me, wringing the towel in his hands and swallowing the apparent lump in his throat. His eyes were rimmed with red like he’d been crying in the shower. “I need you.” He hung his head like he was ashamed, like he never intended on saying that out loud.
He’d never said that before. He’d thanked me for being here for him, for helping him with his apartment and being a literal shoulder to cry on, but he never told me he needed me or asked me to stay. Even if it was unbeknownst to him, I knew when he said he needed me, he was using me for her. And that’s all it really was.
My heart fluttered in my chest at his words, but there was a part of me that was telling me to go.
The door and his face tugged at me in their opposite and respective directions. His next question made the decision for me.
“Lay with me?”
I stood still for a moment before moving to drop my bag from my shoulder. “Okay.”
Just like that, any sense of self preservation flew out the goddamn window.
He nodded quickly and clamored into bed, like if he moved too slowly I’d change my mind. And maybe I should have. Maybe I should have done a lot of things differently- I should have left. I should have set boundaries. I should have better protected my heart instead of so willingly getting lost in him that I’d lost pieces of myself. I did none of those things.
Instead, I kicked off my shoes and pulled my sweatshirt on over my head before climbing into the cave he’d created with his arm holding the sheets up for me. As soon as I was sitting with my back against the headboard, he curled up into me and rested his head on my chest.
I leaned my cheek against the top of his head for a moment, taking in the scent of his shampoo as I reached for a book on his nightstand. He snaked an arm around my waist and sighed.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” he hiccuped. “I don't drink, you know. I don’t like this feeling.”
“I know.” And I did know. I knew he didn’t recognize the shell of a man he’d become. Spencer was many things, but empty had never been one of them.
We sat in silence for a while. I read while he stared at the wall, undoubtedly watching the events of their only meeting unfold on loop like he always seemed to be doing while quiet. I was starting to worry that he hadn’t spoken in a while when he broke the silence.
“I was used to being alone. It was comfortable... She was the only thing better than my solitude,” he whispered.
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet and watched him. He chewed his lip then lifted his eyes to mine.
“And now you’re here.”
I searched his eyes before he broke our gaze and laid his head back down. The heart that was currently in pieces in my chest knew what he meant, but my brain wasn’t willing to meet the same conclusion.
I’m not her, Spencer.
I know.
Our conversation from earlier replayed in my head, remaining as confusing as it was earlier.
As his lids got too heavy for him to hold open and his breathing evened out, I got ready to head out, satisfied with the seemingly stable state of him.
His arm around my waist tightened as if he could sense my plan to leave. “Stay with me.” He begged, his voice groggy and almost childlike in his demand.
I stayed still for a moment, weighing my options against my best interest. I didn’t know if this would be another dancing situation. I didn’t know if this would help him or hurt him, or more than likely- hurt me, but I was willing to try for him anyways.
How was I supposed to look at the sweet boy in my arms and tell him I wouldn’t do anything to make him feel whole again?
“Okay,” I resolved, closing the book and placing it on the nightstand. I sighed and pulled the covers up higher over him.
“I talked to her about you,” he said quietly, fighting sleep. He exhaled sharply through his nose, a small smile forming on his lips. It was the first time I’d heard anything resembling a laugh in weeks. “She asked me if I was married because it sounded like I was talking about my wife when I talked about you.”
I shook my head on a laugh but I couldn’t hear whatever else he said over the sound of my heart cracking in my chest and the ringing in my ears. It wasn’t lost on me that in a very real and fucked up way, I was jealous of a dead woman, but it was more than that.
I was jealous of their love. I was jealous of the fact that in a matter of 10 months, she had managed to intrigue and enthrall Spencer without them ever having laid eyes on one another. They’d never met, never touched, never kissed. And even still, no one could deny the love between them was real. Not even me.
Was it shitty? Absolutely. The support and happiness I felt for him during those 10 months was genuine. But it still hurt.
It seemed selfish to tell him that while I held him in my arms as he cried that I was racked with jealousy and the realization that I would never be the one for him. That I would never be the one he loved in that way. In his head, she was the only one who had the capacity to love him for everything he was but I had been doing that for years. The truth was, I loved him first. Life rarely plays by the rules of dibs, though, so that didn’t matter- I loved him first but she got him.
And that’s not to say he was property to be owned. I could have said the same for my heart, but even without trying, it was his. Even if he didn’t want it, it was his. And his was hers. And she was dead.
None of these truths changed the way things were in their current state, so I held him. I stroked his hair and watched his chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. I watched as his face softened until it was no longer twisted in a painful grimace from replaying the same bloody memory. His eyes finally got to rest from their constant tears.
I hoped his mind was letting him dream of quantum physics or string theory instead of her. Not because of how I felt, but because he deserved anything that would let his mind rest.
My position sitting up against the headboard started to become uncomfortable hours before, but I wasn’t ready to risk moving and waking him up. When I decided he was deep enough in sleep that I could, I wiggled down in the bed until I was lying normally. I huffed a triumphant breath at being able to rest my head on the pillow when he stirred next to me.
I held my breath and froze, hoping it was enough to not wake him. He took a deep breath in and draped an arm over me, nuzzling his face into my neck.
I took a deep breath in, committing the scent of him to memory and wondered who would put me back together again when it came time to rip the pieces of myself out of Spencer, namely the parts he’d grown and twisted around like ivy.
Tears filled my eyes at my own, sad reality.
That I’d found love where I shouldn’t have– in the sad eyes of my best friend that were filled with tears for another.
I’d found love in the heart of a man who had been so irreparably damaged that he couldn’t tell where his pain ended and began.
I’d found love in the form endless literature had been written about– irrevocable and unrequited.
As I drifted off to sleep wrapped up in him, I pretended that he was clinging to me and that I wasn’t just in his bed to fill the void that Maeve left behind.
For now, and for as long as he needed me, I would be there for him, however he needed me to be. Even if that meant I wasn't myself at all. Even if that meant I had to be her.
Even if this was all a lie, I decided ignorance was bliss. And right now, ignorance meant his arms around me. Ignorance meant a place in his bed that wasn’t mine. Ignorance meant the sharing of his love even if I couldn't keep it. This was as close to bliss as I would ever get.
***
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#criminal minds#criminal minds fan fic#criminal minds fanfiction#Spencer reid#Spencer Reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer Reid fan fic#angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader#Spencer Reid x fem! reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#hurt/comfort#hurt and comfort#hurt/comfort fan fic
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Title: A New Kind of Life
Wordcount: ~10k
Rating: T
Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.
(Read on Ao3)
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Chapter 3 (of 5) (Ch. 1, Ch. 2., Chs. 4 & 5)
"When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It's fundamental. But...there is one story about Cain that I might have...forgotten to tell you. Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation? It wasn't until you summoned me...no, it wasn't truly until you left that cheese burger uneaten...that I began to let myself believe. Maybe miracles do come true. Listen to me, Dean Winchester: what you're feeling right now—it's not death. It's life—a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."
—Crowley to Dean, 09x23 "Do You Believe in Miracles?"
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The following evening, there’s a knock on his door. “Crowley? Hey, you in there?”
Crowley looks up from his book. He hasn’t spoken to Dean since that day in the war room, when they’d all returned from the Empty. From a tactical standpoint, it’s been very easy: all Crowley’s had to do is keep largely to his room during the day and save visits to any common spaces for the late night hours. This is the first time in a good long while Dean’s made it a point to seek him out alone, and it’s that more than anything that makes Crowley decide he actually wants to hear what Dean has to say.
Still, no point in making it easy on the bastard. “That depends,” Crowley calls back, aiming for nonchalance. “What have you brought me?”
“Ha ha. Open up, asshole,” says Dean, but the epithet contains about as much malice as the bitch he occasionally lobs at Sam. “We, uh. We need to talk.”
Crowley arches a brow; is it just him, or does Dean sound nervous? He sets his book aside and shifts to sit on the edge of his bed. “It’s open.”
Dean enters, and Crowley sees that he was right: Dean does indeed look nervous, perhaps even guilty. He nods sheepishly in Crowley’s direction as he closes the door behind him.
“Hey,” Dean says, smiling slightly, and the gesture stirs a painful kind of longing in Crowley’s gut. Looking at Dean has always felt to Crowley like reaching for something without knowing what it is he’s grasping at or why, the way a weed arches without thinking towards the sun. It’s maddening in a way Crowley doesn’t have words for, because he knows, in the way he supposes a weed does, that the light isn’t there for his benefit; experience has shown him that much.
And yet, for as much hurt and anger Crowley’s felt because of Dean, he’s also realized that he just...can’t find it in himself to hate Dean, not in any way that lasts. They’ve been through too much together, and maybe none of it mattered to Dean, but it matters to Crowley. He wishes it didn’t, but it does; it always has. And he can no more deny that than he can the sun.
But he can’t very well say all that to Dean, so he pushes his thoughts aside and schools his features into a neutral expression. “Hello, Dean,” he says evenly, rising to stand with his hands in his pockets. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Dean reaches up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “You, uh. You settling in okay?”
Crowley snorts. “Surely you can do better than that. Go on, let’s have it.” He takes a step towards Dean and flashes a smirk. “I promise I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well...That’s kinda what I came to talk to you about.” He gestures at the desk next to the bed. “Mind if I have a seat?”
Crowley shrugs. “Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks.” Dean walks over to the desk and turns to lean against it, not quite sitting but also not quite standing. Crowley stands next to the bed, waiting.
Eventually, Dean clears his throat. “So, uh. Cas said the two of you talked—”
He expects his words to get a rise out of Dean, to throw him off kilter so their conversation is easier to manage.
“Oh for the love of—Is that what this is about?” Crowley grumbles; just how much of their conversation had Castiel felt the need to share? “Allow me to save you some time, then. You and your long-suffering Angel of Thursday have my blessings, for what they’re worth. Slow clap, mazel tov, etcetera, etcetera. If you like, I could even pull a few strings, see if I can get you Hell as a venue for the wedding.” He smiles darkly, adding, “Although based on recent events, your influence there probably exceeds my own.”
Instead, Dean just raises a brow and says mildly, “So you and Rowena still aren’t talkin’, huh?”
Dean chuckles. “Nah, just figured I’d let you finish first.”
Still aren’t—?! “Really?” Crowley sputters angrily. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Ever the gentleman,” Crowley sneers.
“I try.”
“You really think I didn’t miss you when you were gone?”
“Well, try to get to the bloody point!”
And whatever barb Crowley was about to hurl dies on his tongue. He opens his mouth, then closes it, shifting awkwardly under Dean’s level stare. Eventually Dean sighs; he pushes up off the desk and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress next to him. Crowley sits down without a word.
“Listen,” Dean says, once Crowley is settled, “I don’t know how much Sam told you, but you weren’t the only one we lost that night. Cas died, Lucifer made off with our mom, Kelly didn’t survive the birth, and Jack bolted after I took a shot at him. Which...yeah, in hindsight, I’m not proud of, but that’s where I was at the time.” Dean looks down at his hands. “It wasn’t good. If Sam hadn’t stepped up and been a dad, things with Jack woulda turned out different, and not in a good way. If it’d been up to me, if I’d known how...I probably woulda killed the kid.”
Dean snorts softly. “Yeah, maybe, only you were too busy offing yourself to keep Lucifer locked over in Apocalypse World. Man, you don’t even know how huge that was, do you?” Dean looks up at him then, earnest. “You think everything would be the way it is now if Lucifer had gotten his hands on the kid before we’d figured things out?”
Crowley swallows. He tries to think what he would have done if his and Dean’s places had been reversed, if Dean had died that day instead of him, and comes to only one possible conclusion. “To be perfectly honest,” he says, quietly, “I’d have done the same.”
Crowley can only stare back, stunned. He’d sacrificed himself to thwart Lucifer; that his death had also made it possible for Jack to grow up in the Winchesters’ charge, free of Lucifer’s poisonous early influence, and thereby helped shape who Jack was, who God was...It’s honestly never occurred to him until now.
A protective sort of rage boils up in Crowley on Dean’s behalf. Sam hadn’t gone into all the gory details during his explanation, but Crowley knows enough. “Michael.”
“Anyway,” Dean continues, when Crowley says nothing, “then Jack brought Cas back, which we didn’t even know was possible. Thought maybe it was just a fluke, but we didn’t have time to really think about it because we had to go get our mom back, and then there was all the crap with Lucifer, so we had to deal with that, and then...” Dean trails off, his jaw tight.
Dean inhales steadily, nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that. And then...after…” He sighs. “Jack lost his soul and killed Mom, and I damn near killed him, and then everything with Chuck...Man, it was just non-stop. Then we finally beat Chuck, and with Jack all souped up, we had a way into the Empty, and hell yeah, we were gonna get Cas out, but the plan was always to look for you, too. Oh come on, don’t look at me like that,” Dean says, frowning at Crowley’s shell-shocked expression. “You’re a royal pain in the ass, and there’ve been plenty of times I wanted to stab you in the face, but you think that means I don’t give a damn what happens to you? Like it or not, man, you’re family, and we don’t leave family behind, not when we can help it.”
Crowley studies Dean carefully, looking for the lie...and not finding it. Then, that means...Is he really...?
“Family,” murmurs Crowley, experimentally. “You know, I’ve never had much luck with that word.”
Dean gives him a sad sort of smile. “Yeah, me neither. Not the one I was born to, anyway, 'cept for Sam. The one me and him made, though…” His smile turns genuine. “That one’s pretty damn awesome.”
They sit in silence, neither speaking for several moments; then—
Crowley clears his throat. “Can I ask you something, Dean?”
“Shoot.”
“That first day, after you brought me back, Sam said I should talk to Mother, said she has...regrets.”
Dean regards him thoughtfully. “You thinkin’ about giving her another chance?”
“I honestly don't know what I’m thinking,” Crowley admits. “There’s a lot of bad blood there: hers, mine, both of ours. When I saw her here, in this room, she said she’d missed me, that she loved me, and...”
Crowley feels his throat tighten, and he doesn’t know how to say the rest: that for all he hates himself for it, for all the times it’s blown up in his face, for all the horrible things Rowena has done to him—
“You don’t know if you should believe her,” Dean finishes quietly, “but you want to.”
Crowley sighs. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not,” Dean says firmly. “It’s not stupid to want to be loved, not by family: that’s kinda how it’s supposed to be. The stupid part is that it doesn’t always go that way, and then we gotta deal with the fallout.” Dean hesitates, then adds, “And...and sometimes that means we think we don’t deserve love when we do, and other times, it’s people sayin’ they deserve our love when they don’t.”
Crowley mulls that over. “Does she deserve it, do you think?”
“From you?” Dean shakes his head. “Man, that ain’t for me to say.”
Bollocks, thinks Crowley, barely managing to suppress a groan of frustration; if only there were a way to know which decision was the right one ahead of time...“How did you decide?" he asks after a moment. "With your father, I mean.”
Dean looks taken aback, and Crowley thinks perhaps he shouldn’t have asked; but before he can change the topic, Dean sucks in a breath and says, “Look, my father was an obsessed bastard. He left me and Sam alone for weeks on end, and when he was around, he was more of a drill sergeant than a dad. Some of the shit he pulled...” One of Dean’s hands closes into a fist. “It’s not the kind of stuff you just...forgive.”
Then Dean lets out a slow breath, and the fist relaxes. “Thing is, though, a lot of the crap he put us through, raisin’ us the way he did...He was tryin’ to protect what was left of his family, and...and I get that, you know? I’ve done a lot of really messed up shit for the same reason, for family. Doesn’t mean I forgive him, it’s just...complicated.” Dean sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “Like, really freaking complicated. Honestly, I’m still kinda trying to figure it out. But, yeah...all that to say, I don’t know if Rowena deserves your love or whatever else you wanna give her. She’s done a lot for me and Sam, helped us save our mom and Jack, and then her whole swan dive into Hell and all that, but when it comes to the two of you...That’s something you gotta decide for yourself.”
Crowley studies his hands. His left palm still bears thin scars from that day in the war room, when Sam had told him Rowena had changed and Crowley had gripped his fist tightly enough to draw blood. He still isn’t sure he believes his mother is actually capable of being anything other than what he's always known her as. Maybe she isn't, and if that’s the case, then she doesn’t deserve his love. Crowley can live with that; he has his entire life. If Sam was right, though, if his mother has changed...that’s something Crowley needs to see to believe.
And there it is, Crowley realizes: he needs to see her.
“I think,” he says, after a moment, “that I’ll meet with her and hear what she has to say, and if I don’t like it, I’ll tell her to bugger off, this time for good.”
Dean gives a hum of approval. “Sounds fair to me." He claps Crowley on the knee and stands. "Okay, then, I’m gonna go hit the hay. Lemme know if me or Sam can help with the Rowena thing, okay? You don’t gotta deal with her on your own.”
“I will,” Crowley says; then, as Dean’s about to leave, “and Dean?”
Dean looks back, hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”
And Crowley once again feels something stirring in his gut, but this time, it isn’t longing, but gratitude, gratitude that he has Dean in his life and gratitude that, at the end of the day, everything they’ve been through together, the good and the bad, it matters to Dean, too, and that's important. It's fundamental.
“Thank you,” Crowley says, and means it. “For everything.”
For a moment, Dean regards him in silence; then he smiles. “Yeah. You too.”
He slips out of the room and leaves Crowley alone with his thoughts, which are...actually rather optimistic. For the first time in a long time, Crowley feels alive. It’s a new kind of life, one with family, one where he matters, and Crowley doesn’t know for certain what it’s going to bring, but he knows he wants to see it, experience it, eyes wide open.
#crowley#spn crowley#fergus macleod#crowley macleod#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#spn fic#spn fix-it fic#a new kind of life#my writing#i was going to wait till tomorrow to post this but i've realized that i lack self-control when it comes to multi-chapter fics#meh
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Part 8
Summary: The Pogues take JJ to the hospital. Afterword, JJ isn’t taking things all that serious.
Taglist:
@ma10427 @lasnaro @certainstatesmantoadartisan @iamaunicorn4704 @riverdaleserpent04 @justcallmesams @sspidermanss @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @hurricane-abigail @poguesnobx
Edited by author
Part 7 Part 9
Note: Things get a little steamy towards the end so if you’re under 18 close your eyes!
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It felt like the world was crashing down on top of me. JJ was barely breathing, I was hysterically crying, and the others were still fighting with the Kooks. Kie coming to console me, Sarah screaming at her brother, my brother getting in Topper’s face, and Pope eyeing Kelce. I looked at Rafe with pure hatred, and the son of a bitch smirked at me.
Suddenly I was standing in front of Rafe, pushing Sarah out of the way. I didn’t even remember getting up. And I smacked him in the face so hard he fell to the ground. I used that to my advantage and kicked him in the side, his goons trying to come at me, but my brother and Pope kept them away from me.
“You-asshole-fuck-you” I said, kicking him again and again after every word.
He tried to grab at my leg, but I stepped on his hand hard. He screamed, pleading me to stop.
“Oh, you want me to stop Rafe?” I asked sarcastically. He whimpered on the ground and I smiled menacingly.
“That’s enough” Sarah said, trying to put a hand on my shoulder. I knocked her away from me, glaring holes into her.
“Fuck off Sarah go back to daddy if you can’t handle the fight,” I spat at her. I turned back to Rafe and kicked him hard in the face, blood gushing out of his nose.
“Sis, come on please, we have to get JJ to the hospital.” JB pleaded, pulling on my arm.
John B and Pope managed to get JJ into the van, his head laying on my lap. Kie and Pope riding in the back with me while my brother drove with Sarah in the passenger seat. I started to become hysterical again when JJ’s breathing became more erratic. He started wheezing, taking more shallow breaths.
“Birdie please hurry! H-he’s barely breathing!” I sobbed, my body shaking so hard it was making JJ’s head move with me.
“Pleas JJ, don’t leave me, please baby, please. We have to have our happy ending.” I cried, Kie and Pope stared at me, not knowing what to do to console me.
We finally pulled up to the ER, all of us piling out with Pope, John B, and I carrying a very unconscious JJ. The nurses rushed at us taking JJ on a gurney, and instructing us to stay put in the waiting room. I couldn’t sit still...I paced back and forth in the waiting room. My brother tried to get me to sit down and relax, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit idly while my JJ was in there. God knows what all those Kooks probably broke. His poor face mangled and his erratic breathing definitely meant a broken rib at least.
Kie and Pope’s parents came and made them go home. So left in the waiting room was my brother, Sarah, and I.
“He’s going to be fine,” John B said, coming to hug me. I broke down in my brother’s arms. He shushed me and rubbed my back, trying to calm me down.
“You didn't hear how he was breathing Birdie, I can’t lose him” I sobbed into his shoulder.
“We have all been in plenty of fights-” JB started.
“John B there were three of them punching and kicking him at the same time! All I could do was fucking sit there and watch! He got hurt because I was too weak fighting back!” I screamed, my brother hugged me tighter to him.
“I told him people like us don’t get happy endings..I said that to him right before the Kooks came. I said that fucked up shit right to his face JB.” I sobbed, my voice croaking from the amount of screaming that I’ve done in the past few hours.
“JJ Maybank?” a voice asked.
We turned and saw a doctor standing by the door, and rushed over immediately.
“He’s very lucky, he has a broken rib that almost punctured his lungs. We had to operate to move that part of his rib back down. I’d like for him to stay the night so we can observe him. He can go home tomorrow after we take another x-ray to make sure his rib hasn’t moved. You all may see him now.” the doctor said, leading us to his room.
We walked into his room and it took everything in me to not start crying again. His face was pretty much bandaged everywhere, hooked up to machines, and oxygen tubes in his nose. I walked over to the side of his bed that didn’t have all the machines, and pulled up a chair next to him.
“Hi honey bear,” I whispered squeezing his hand a little.
“I’m going to take Sarah home, call me when he’s being released and I’ll pick you up ok?” John B said, I nodded at him looking back at JJ.
I was in and out of sleep the whole night. I got paranoid anytime a machine beeped or a nurse came in to check his vitals. I tried to talk to him some, not knowing if he could hear me or not.
“I’m so sorry JJ, I feel like this is all my fault. From the Kooks and what we were arguing about beforehand. I hate myself for what I said and making you think for even a second you aren’t anything less than perfect for me. You have a heart of gold JJ Maybank. A heart of gold that’s mine and I fucked up. I said some really fucked up shit to you. I wish more than anything I could take it back.” I started, crying again putting my head down by his hand.
I felt something brush against my hair, I looked up and JJ was looking back at me. He was trying to lift his hand to my cheek, so I helped him the rest of the way. I held his hand there, tears still flowing down my face.
“None of this is-your fault-baby.” JJ rasped.
I got him a cup of water and held the straw for him. Now fully aware of himself, JJ cupped my face in his hands and pulled me down for a kiss. I pulled away, not wanting to hurt him, causing JJ to pout at me. I let out a watery laugh and gave in to his kiss.
“I know you did everything you could to help me.There was nothing anyone in that situation could have done better, you-” he said.
“I could have fought harder J, I-” I said firmly.
“You did everything you could baby, get this in your head now. Nothing was your fault. What happened to us is all on the Kooks, and they will pay for what they did.” JJ said, holding my face close to his.
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I helped JJ inside the chateau, laying him on my bed. I made sure he was properly elevated and had plenty of blankets.
“So all I have to do is get a broken rib to be treated like a king?” JJ teased.
“If you weren’t hurt Maybank, I’d hit you” I said, smiling at him.
“Does this mean I get to have a celebratory kegger for my gracious return?” he asked, smiling back at me.
“You are confined to that bed sir until I see fit” I said, raising a brow at him.
“I’m fine baby, I broke my rib not my whole body..my dad’s done worse to me,” he said nonchalantly.
“JJ stop it” I said, not wanting to hear about his dad beating him. I started to leave the room when his hand shot out grabbing mine.
“No baby, please stay I’m sorry” JJ said, grunting at his movements.
I laid in bed with him until we both fell asleep. Waking up to the front door shutting. My brother came in my room, seeing both of us were up.
“I say we have a kegger in honor of you J” John B said.
“Absolutely not!” I said.
“Hell yeah that’s my boy!” JJ said, getting up to hug my brother.
“This is definitely not a good idea..” I said.
“I’ve already got it filled and ready to go” my brother smirked. I glared at him, this was not something to celebrate.
“You do realize you could have fucking died right JJ?” I asked starting to become angrier by the second. “The doctor said your rib was so fucked it almost punctured your lung. How is going and getting black out drunk evenly remotely smart? Go on, I’ll wait.” I said leaning against my desk.
Both boys stared at me, my brother looking extremely uncomfortable with the situation, and JJ looking at my brother for help.
“Sweetheart-” JJ started.
“I don’t agree with this at all. I just spent the last 24 hours worried as fuck if you were even going to make it out of that operating room JJ. I’m not going to watch you hurt yourself more. You know what? I can’t be here right now. I’m leaving, to where, I don’t know. I can’t stand to look at either of you right now.” I stomped out of my room. I grabbed my bag and the keys to the van. They can find their own fucking ride since they want to do dumb shit. And my luck would have it that Sarah fucking Cameron was sitting on my porch.
“Hey,” she said. I looked at her confused. “Um, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I-” she started.
“I can’t do this right now Sarah, I’m not in the head space to have a civil conversation right now. Can we talk later?” I wanted to give her a chance after she stood up to her brother for us.
“Uh yeah, sure” she said.
The screen door slammed shut behind me, I heard someone following me and I turned to see JJ stalking up to me.
“Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to talk to you? I feel like I made that pretty clear Maybank.” I said still making my way towards the van.
“And when do I ever listen to you sweets?” JJ asked. I could feel even with my back turned to him that he was smiling at me. I rolled my eyes getting into the van with JJ following suit.
I drove with no destination in mind, but somehow ended up at the beach. Something about the ocean has always calmed me. The waves crashing on the shore lull me into a calm state. If I could, I’d build a house right by the ocean. Feeling the sand between my toes, and the smell of ocean water being a constant every moment. I got out of the van grabbing my beach bag, surf board, and stuffing some of JJ’s things into my bag. JJ grabbed his board and we made our way down to the ocean.
I laid out an old bed sheet, using some of our things to keep it in place since it was a little windy. I shed my clothes leaving me in my bathing suit, I could feel JJ watching me. I made a little show of it to get back at him.
“You aren’t playing fair baby,” JJ said I could feel his gaze burning into every inch of my body.
“I’m not doing anything honey bear,” I said bending down to take my shorts off.
In the next instance JJ grabbed my jaw right above my neck and yanked me to him. I smirked at him knowing I got to him.
“You better quit the bullshit baby, or all these people will see you with a tan hide when I’m done with you.” JJ said through gritted teeth.
I pushed him away and made a show of picking up my surf board and ran out to the ocean before JJ could catch me. I plunged myself into the first wave I hit coming up and paddling out to where the bigger waves would be. I sat up on my board looking out at the ocean wishing I could stay like this forever. I felt a splash next to me and saw JJ coming up next to me. I saw the bruises on his body and it broke my heart. The pain this boy has been through from his dad, and now from me, it tore me apart. I felt like those marks on him were my fault. I looked away from him.
“Baby-” JJ started. I ignored him and went after the upcoming wave. It was a big one, and I was a little nervous going to it. “Baby, please be careful!” JJ yelled. Knowing I’m not a fan of the bigger waves, but I was acting on impulse.
I started off on a good note, gliding back and forth. Then my foot slipped and I went sailing. I crashed into the ocean rolling deeper into the blue abyss. I felt arms come up under my armpits, pulling me to the surface. I came up coughing due to the water surging up my nose. Still being caught in the wave, I felt myself being pulled further out to not be right in the crash zone.
“You scared the shit out of me!” JJ yelled pushing his hair back out of his face.
“You act like that was my first wipe out J” I rolled my eyes at him, swimming to grab my board.
“Can we please talk about this babe, stop running from me!” JJ pulled himself back on his board following me back to the shore.
“I don’t know what else there is to talk about JJ! I told you how I felt about this fucking thing and I know you are still going to do it because you’re a fucking idiot!” I yelled throwing my board down by our stuff.
“You are making a bigger deal of this than it actually is sweets.” JJ said.
“What because I care about you? JJ I watched them beat you to a pulp! I-” I started.
“I KNOW I WAS FUCKING THERE I FELT THAT SHIT DAMMIT!” JJ screamed at me, my eyes widening. “I..I thought I was going to die last night. I could feel my breathing becoming harder and harder. I am not going to live life in constant fear anymore. This is the only life we have, and I want to have fun.” JJ said staring into my eyes.
I looked down at my feet, not being able to handle his intense gaze.
“Alright J, let’s party” I said smiling at him.
JJ picked me up, spinning me around in his arms. I giggled at him holding his face in my hands. He put me down, his arms still around me. He smiled, putting his hands on my cheeks leaning down to kiss me. I kissed him back, throwing my arms around him. He touched his tongue to mine, and I moaned in response. His hands roamed around my back just as mine did his. I grasped at his sides as his hand came closer to my breast just resting on the side of it. He rubbed his thumb over my nipple through my bathing suit, I gasped into his mouth loving the feeling. He suddenly pulled away and I pouted at him. He smirked at me leaning down towards me again.
“Later, I promise” he whispered against my lips. I leaned towards his ear brushing my lips against it.
“You better hold yourself to that Maybank” I whispered into his ear nibbling on it. He grunted, squeezing my hips.
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Hope you guys liked this!
#outer banks#outer banks netflix#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#obx#obx netflix#obx imagine#obx fic#obx x reader#obx x you#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank angst#outer banks jj maybank#obx jj maybank#jj#jj outer banks#jj obx#jj fic#jj imagine#jj maybank fic#jj x reader#jj x you#outer banks jj#obx jj
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Writing continues. I’ve had several new bits for my Alt Modes and Alchemy AU in mind for ages. As one of them is a disjointed serial in the same way that After Tempest was, I decided I’ll pre-post the rough drafts of it to Tumblr (and Pillowfort!) the same way as I did for that story. :)
This is a direct sequel to A Bonding, a Coronation, and a Funeral, and actually begins the same evening where that fic ended.
Tentative title is The King and the Bounty Hunter, so you know where this is going. ^.^
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King Smokescreen couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a good time taking fuel.
Maybe it was because he rarely had a chance to sit and talk with his brother about something that didn’t involve the work of running the kingdom or dealing with the complex politics between the throne and the noble houses. Both Smokescreen and Prince Prowl had been incredibly busy for the past half vorn. Between planning and managing all of the changes Smokescreen wanted to bring to Praxus, and dodging insistent nobles who wanted to introduce their creations to the very publicly unattached King, that simply relaxing and enjoying an evening had fallen out of their schedules.
Cadet Jazz had been busy with training, of course. High Commander Irridus had advised Smokescreen privately that it likely wouldn’t be long before Jazz started climbing the ranks of the Praxian Cavalry, since he was both skilled and charismatic. Irridus wanted him in a leadership position as soon as possible. But Jazz was content to work his way up the ranks slowly, and so was spending a lot of time away doing training exercises. As a result, Smokescreen hadn’t talked with Jazz in quite a while, either, although he was sure that Prowl missed Jazz’s company far more than Smokescreen did.
The third companion at the table was new to everyone present. Smokescreen found the bounty hunter a fascinating mech to talk with. Devcon had successfully brought in the rogue Prelate Hitch, the Temple priest who had been involved in the attempts on Smokescreen’s life... And in Lord Halfsteel’s death. Smokescreen was grateful to Devon for helping to finally tie up the last loose end in the horrors that had been unleashed on Smokescreen’s coronation day. But the bounty hunter was also quick-witted, had an interesting take on the politics in the region, and listened to others with an intensity that Smokescreen found strangely appealing. And as he listened to Devcon and Jazz trade stories of their travels around Cybertron, Smokescreen watched how the winglets on Devcon’s back moved whenever he laughed in his deep voice.
Smokescreen didn’t realize how much he’d missed doing exactly this: lounging around after a meal, sitting and laughing and talking with others, enjoying a glass of engex along with the company and the conversation. It reminded him a little of the days before the crown, the mantle, and the realities of leading a country had settled on him, back when he could just relax and be at ease.
Hmm. Maybe he had buried himself in his work a bit too much.
Jazz was the one who broke the spell that had settled over Smokescreen. "Well, Devcon, it's been a real pleasure meetin' ya, but I just got back from field training and I'm runnin' low on energy," he said with an apologetic tilt of his helm. Then he turned and smiled at Prowl. "And, I promised Prince Prowl here we'd get some alone time together before I let myself collapse into stasis." He slipped his hand under the table, and whatever he did there caused Prowl to sit up straight, and his wings to flare out with an audible click.
"Jazz, please," Prowl murmured, but Smokescreen knew that the slant of Prowl's sensor wings meant he didn't really mind Jazz's attention.
As Jazz and Prowl pushed their chairs back from the table, Devcon also stood up. "The pleasure has been mine, Cadet Jazz. And thank you, Prince Prowl," Devcon said, giving them both a small bow. "Please, if you are ever in Altihex, be sure to send me word so that I can return the favour. I can arrange accommodations and company, if you desire, even if I am away on a contract."
Prowl returned Devcon's bow. "I shall be sure to do so," he replied. He nodded at Smokescreen, who was still sitting. "Good night, your Majesty." He narrowed his optics slightly. "Remember our meeting with High Commander Irridus is scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning."
From his seat, Smokescreen held up his glass to his brother in a toast. "I remember, Prowl," he said, suppressing the irritated flick of his wings. "Have a good night."
As Prowl and Jazz made their way out of the dining room, arm in arm, Devcon both took their seats again. "You must also be tired. You said earlier that you'd been on the move for almost an orbital cycle," Smokescreen said, swirling the last bit of engex in his glass before draining the last of it. "Please, don't feel obliged to stay here on my behalf. I... tend to stay awake far later than I should." He picked up the bottle, pouring himself another glass. "On the other hand, you are welcome to a refill, if you want one..." Smokescreen held up the bottle and tipped his wings upwards questioningly.
"Yes, but just a small amount. Thank you." Devcon leaned forward offering his own glass. "This engex is very good, but it's not a type I'm familiar with."
Smokescreen smiled. "I'm not surprised," he said as he started to fill Devcon's glass. He'd only splashed in a little when Devcon held up his hand for him to stop. He switched to his own glass and continued to pour. "This is Northern engex, distilled here in Praxus. The mines in that principality produce some of the purest quality energon in the country, and they have a secret process for its distillation that's only passed on from creators to creations. I daresay you won't find anything like it anywhere on Cybertron."
"I can definitely agree with that. It has very distinctive flavour." He waited until Smokescreen had filled his own glass to the top before leaning back into his seat. He took a contemplative sip. Then he said, "Would it be all right for me to be a bit familiar, your Majesty?"
"That's fine," Smokescreen said. "And please, if we're not talking about business or politics, just call me Smokescreen."
"As you wish... Smokescreen," Devcon said, but there was an odd smile on his face. "And that's exactly the sort of thing I would expect of you. You see, when I accepted your offer for dinner tonight, I was only being polite. But I ended up having quite a good time. It was like..." He tapped his fingers on his glass for a moment as he thought. "It was like an enjoyable dinner with friends." The bounty hunter gestured at the empty chairs where Prowl and Jazz had been sitting. "Being able to talk casually over fuel about everything and nothing was not something I expected when I accepted the invitation to dine with royalty."
"I know Praxus developed a reputation across Cybertron for being a severe, suffocating place, but I'd hoped that some of the news that has made its way out of here changed that preconception a little bit." Smokescreen tipped his wings upwards again. "Can I ask what you were expecting?" he asked.
"It's nothing specific about Praxus." Devcon took another sip from his glass before replying. "My services are in demand, and as a result I've had audiences with governors and nobles and all manner of rulers, all across Cybertron," he said matter-of-factly. "And I've come to expect a certain distance that rulers keep themselves from other mechs. I assume some of it is to ensure an air of objectivity in any association they have, but it always comes across as a coldness, or a sense that they truly think they're superior to the mechs they rule." Devcon's gaze held Smokescreen's evenly. "You don't come across that way, which is a surprise especially with what I thought I knew about Praxus. The care that you show your subjects is obvious in the way you speak about them."
Smokescreen felt a little wash of gratification at Devcon's words, and he inclined his helm at the bounty hunter. "Thank you. I hope the citizens of Praxus feel that way, too." Smokescreen took another drink from his glass and then stared into it for a moment. "There is a lot of well-earned anger and resentment towards the nobility in Praxus, and I want to do as much as I can to reconcile those hurts and indignities that have been perpetuated through generations." He frowned. "It'll take time, though, and I'm being fought every step of the way by nobles who don't want change."
Devcon's winglets twitched. "I surmised some of that in the brief I was given in the contract."
"It's a relief knowing that Hitch has been captured and will face justice along with Lady Crossflare." Smokescreen took another drink. "It's certainly not an end to the trouble that he and Crossflare caused, but hopefully other nobles will see that I'm serious about helping common Praxians, starting with those in Emerald Lake."
Setting his glass on the table, Devcon asked, "What did they do to the mechs of Emerald Lake?" His winglets twitched upwards. "I take it that's a principality?"
"Yes. Lady Crossflare and her family ruled it since before my grandsire emerged," Smokescreen said, twirling his empty glass in his fingers. "They ruled it with cruelty and greed. The crown essentially ignored all that was happening there, and for that... I must take full responsibility, on my family's behalf." Smokescreen held the glass still in his fingers and pulled another vent. "When Crossflare fled Praxus after... after the attempts on my life and the attempts on my brothers' lives, she left her principality destitute. I've sent a team there to help those in most need, but Crossflare emptied the principality's coffers and took everything with her. And now, apparently, it's in protected accounts in Altihex." He grimaced. "No amount of charms from our alchemist or spells from our sorcerer has been able to give us any information about those accounts."
"There's a reason they're called protected accounts," Devcon said. He rested his elbows on his chair's armrests and clasped his hands together. "They're specially protected with charms of their own to prevent exactly that sort of meddling. Of course, that makes them very popular with – ah – unsavory elements, but the Ruling Council in Altihex has upheld those protected accounts for hundreds of vorn." He shrugged. "You might say it's tradition."
Smokescreen nodded glumly. "Yes, I've learned more about Altihexian protected accounts in the past few orbital cycles than I ever needed to know, I think." He twirled his glass again. "I just wish that we could get our hands on the shanix Crossflare took with her. That amount of money could do a lot of good for them mechs in Emerald Lake, and based on the accounting records we seized, the money rightfully belonged to the Praxians living there." He let out a quiet vent, thinking of the reports he'd received of the living conditions the mechs of the principality had been left in after their Lord had left them. They had been destitute before: being forced to work to pay off illusory debts to their Lord, debts that only compounded as time went on and were passed from creator to creations, no matter how much labour was completed. But now, what little shanix circulating in the principality had been spirited away by Crossflare, leaving everyone living there without the financial means to even survive. "Right now the crown is helping to make sure they're getting the fuel they need and the maintenance they lack, and we're trying to stabilize the situation there, but..." Smokescreen fanned his fingers wide as if scattered away chips. "Our resources are already stretched thin. We've been shut off from the rest of Cybertron for so long everyone is reluctant to do business with us still, since we're an unknown quantity." He shook his helm. "I understand their position, but unfortunately it means I'm limited in how I can help Emerald Lake until we get some new trade treaties negotiated."
Devcon's helm had slowly tipped to the side as he listened to Smokescreen, his attention focused on the king closely. "I'm surprised that the crown – the government – is stepping in to help," he said. "In Altihex, the expectation would be for them to find a way to make do, until they can pull themselves up. Giving away shanix like that... Some might say that it just encourages laziness."
"These mechs had nothing. They were starving. They were suffering from engine burnout because they hadn't even had basic maintenance since they were created. They were living two or three dozen to a single dwelling, the adults recharging in alt mode outside to make room for their creations. They were fighting to survive day in and day out, simply because the wages they were paid were not enough to live on. To permit that to continue was unconscionable," Smokescreen said, his words becoming louder and louder as he spoke. When he saw Devcon sit back in his seat, watching him warily, Smokescreen pulled another vent and shrugged, letting his wings bob up and down. "What else would the crown use its money for, if not in the interests of its citizens?" he asked. With a frown, he added, "If I did not use it to help them, then I would just be hoarding cash for no reason than to keep it."
Relaxing infinitesimally, Devcon nodded thoughtfully. "I've never thought about it like that before," he said. A tiny smile flashed across his face. "That's very different from how the governor in Altihex would view the situation, to be sure."
Smokescreen vented again, suddenly realizing how much he'd let himself say. He could almost see Prowl's disapproving frown. Smokescreen always did have a loose vocalizer when he was drinking. It had gotten him into trouble more than once. He gave Devcon a wan smile and tried to shift the subject. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on and on about that. The internal politics of Praxus probably don't interest you that much."
But Devcon's optics brightened slightly; he seemed to have been lost in thought for a moment. "That's quite all right," he said. "After all, knowledge is part of my trade, and every detail is interesting to me. For example, I had heard that the laws in Praxus changed with your coronation." Devcon gestured towards the doorway where Prowl and Jazz had vanished. "Your own brother is promised to a non-Praxian, and I know your youngest brother is also bonded to a non-Praxian." He smiled at Smokescreen. "You were crowned less than a vorn ago. You work quickly."
"I had... motivation to move quickly," Smokescreen said, remembering the utterly defeated look on his friend's Halfsteel when he talked about the mate the Praxian Temple had chosen for him. "Those laws were some of the first ones I eliminated. Now, a pure-bred Praxian – a noble – can bond with whomever they wish."
Devcon nodded thoughtfully. "Of course. That was part of the information I collected as part of my investigation into my target's whereabouts." Devcon looked at Smokescreen evenly, his blue optics focused on him like a synth hawk. "But – and forgive me again if I am too informal here - it is a surprise that you, the sovereign King of Praxus, is not yet even promised." Devcon lifted a brow ridge. "Unless the customs in Praxus are very different than outside its walls, the first matter of business for a new ruler is to secure their legacy through an heir."
Smokescreen could not suppress the twist in his spark at Devcon's words. His emotions must have been obvious in his expression, because the bounty hunter immediately bowed his helm. "My apologies, your Majesty. I should not have-"
"It's all right," Smokescreen said, waving his hand. When Devcon lifted his helm enough to look at Smokescreen again, Smokescreen managed a facsimile of a smile. "You are exactly right. And you're definitely not the first to have noticed that I am not bonded," he said, thinking of all of the unattached mechs who had been paraded past him in the past few orbital cycles. But he also remembered the golden orb sitting on his desk in his office, and the golden optics of the mech that the orb represented. "Had things played out the way they should have I-" Smokescreen tried to cover the falter in his voice by taking another gulp of his engex. The burn of it steadied him enough to continue. "I did have a promised, before my coronation, but we had only just discussed it. We never had a chance to make it official."
Devcon's blue optics widened, just slightly, and the winglets on his back rose in the same way a Praxian's might when they suddenly understood something. "Your deceased majordomo, I presume," Devcon said.
It was Smokescreen's turn to lift his wings. "Am I so easy to read? Or are there loose lips amongst my household staff?" he asked, knowing the engex was getting to his processor by the bitter tone the words took when they came out of his vocalizer.
"No, your Majesty," Devcon said with a shake of his helm. His voice was gentle. "But it's part of my job to make connections where others might not."
Smokescreen swirled the last bit of engex in his glass, careful not to let any slop over the edge. A voice inside his helm (which sounded very much like his sire, or maybe Prowl) said that he should investigate exactly how Devcon made those connections. But Smokescreen's ambition to do anything had been dulled by the engex, just like it always was four glasses into a bottle.
So instead, Smokescreen vented softly and said, "Halfsteel took the bolt that was meant for my spark. Minutes before that, he had sworn to protect me with his life." Smokescreen tipped his helm back and swallowed the last mouthful of his engex, savouring the burn as it washed down his intake. He coughed a few times before adding, "He was loyal to the very end."
Devcon lowered his helm again. "My deepest condolences on your loss, your Majesty."
"Thank you. And it's Smokescreen, remember?" With an effort, Smokescreen focused his optics on Devcon again and smiled. He gestured with his empty glass at Devcon's. "Would you like some more?"
"No, thank you... Smokescreen," Devcon said, and rose gracefully from his seat. "While I have very much enjoyed your company and your hospitality, just like you pointed out earlier, I have been running almost non-stop for an orbital cycle. I am afraid it's catching up with me now." He bowed deeply, his winglets twitching as he stood up. "Thank you again, your Majesty, and good night."
"Good night," Smokescreen said with a nod from his seat. He knew better than to stand up right now; he might be in danger of toppling over if he tried. He watched as the bounty hunter gracefully swept out of the dining room, and then poured himself another glass of engex. Just one more wouldn't hurt.
Smokescreen sat in the silent dining room, alone, staring at his glass, watching how the flickering lights of the wall sconces reflected off the surface of his drink, and remembering golden optics that once looked into his own with love before they flickered and faded.
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WIP Wednesday?
I was tagged by @dalishkadan. I tag uh. @thedascharlatan, @allisondraste, This is somewhat a sneak preview for my main fic, but I’m also not sure I’m gonna keep it - it’s an intense chapter and this might be a little too off the main point of the chapter. It’s WIP, so clearly editing hasn’t happened yet. A flashback scene in progress - maybe the last I’ll do for awhile?
Elsa Cousland, 9 years ago
Grey eyes stared at me, stony, cold, and full of threat. My throat felt suddenly drier; what had I done to piss Nathaniel off this time? It had been a long time since I’d made him so genuinely angry.
My grip tightened on my daggers, holding them ready. I could see him do likewise, eyes narrowed.
“You can do this, pup,” Father cheered me from the sidelines.
Rendon chuckled, casting a sidelong glance. “Are you so certain she needs the encouragement, my lord?”
Papa clapped him on the back cheerfully. “Probably not, old friend, but a father can’t help be proud of their child. I admit, I’m rooting against yours, now.”
Rendon chuckled, but my focus was back on Nathaniel, who was openly scowling at this point.
“Are you...alright?” I asked, hesitant.
“Focus on the match,” he chided me immediately. Which, rude, but he wasn’t wrong.
I nodded, getting into a ready stance.
“Begin,” Rendon’s voice snapped out.
In a flash, Nathaniel came at me harder than I’d ever seen before. The ferocity of it almost made me lose the match right there, but a particularly aggressive moment on his part left a wide opening I could brutally punish with a kick, buying myself a moment of breath.
“Attagirl, Pup!” Father called cheerfully, while Nathaniel scowled harder.
I stared at him, trying to divine what was wrong, but after a moment, realized it didn’t matter. Father was here. Father was going to decide if I’d learned anything after all. I had to prove myself, prove that I hadn’t wasted my years, that I wasn’t the silly, frivolous girl Rendon thought I was.
Everything was riding on this moment. I wouldn’t let even Nathaniel stand in my way.
I met his eyes, then, determined. In his own I saw understanding - and, confusingly, hurt. Clearly I’d erred somehow, but I’d have to find out why, later. This match mattered. And if Nathaniel wanted to bring his all to stop me, well, I could appreciate the challenge. And I’d rise above it.
Unusually for us, no taunts were exchanged, no words spoken. Nathaniel’s practice daggers flashed out, continuously intent on striking the killing blows which would end the match. I ducked and wove around them. Thomas had given me more than enough training in someone who just wanted to do whatever it took to stop me. Coming from Nathaniel, it was surprising, but - this was Nathaniel.
I was missing something, and as much as I wanted to focus, my brain couldn’t help pick apart the knot of whatever was wrong with my friend. It took me a moment, but finally I realized - he just wanted to push me, to give me every chance in the world of showing off exactly how much I had learned.
A savage grin took me, finally stumbling upon this realization, and the last chain holding me back fell away. Nathaniel was holding nothing back. Why should I?
I struck out, sliding my dagger in between the gaps in his defense I’d noted, beginning to score on him more and more. His frustrations only seemed to grow, which I didn’t quite understand, but it didn’t matter. The match was steadily turning in my favor. Nathaniel usually had a plan, and tended to get easily unsettled when things threw him off - and grumpy, too.
I could use that.
One particularly keen moment locked us, and I felt him trying to bear his entire strength down on me, which felt a bit unfair, as he had 5 years and a few stone on me.
“I’ve always admired you,” I said quietly, and his eyes widened, startled. I used that moment, hooking out a leg and breaking his stance.
“But I won’t let you stop me,” I finished, shoving hard at the right moment, forcing his stumble back.
It was enough of a weakness, and I pounced, practice daggers flashing faster then they ever had before. A particular energy had taken hold of me. Rendon had never believed in me, but couldn’t I prove myself, now? I was good. I was very good, I knew I was. Nathaniel believed in me - why else would he come after me so hard? I would show them all.
Nathaniel, my rival, my best friend (with Delilah!), the boy I’d been silly enough to have a crush on, thankfully one I was finally getting over. But he was smart, talented, and I would prove I was his equal. No, that I was better. Maybe there were some things he could still beat me in, and he was probably a better rogue than me, but like Thomas always said, I was a freakishly violent girl. I could do this.
It wasn’t easy. He was probably my fiercest challenge to date. But in the end, I was more prepared for his ferocity than he was mine, and the match ended when I dumped him on his butt and slammed forward, dagger hovering at his neck.
My father let out a loud whoop, but Nathaniel just squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. And it began to occur to me that Nathaniel very much hadn’t wanted to lose.
“Ashes, Nate, what’s wrong?” I muttered, dagger still hovering, hesitant, at his neck.
“Nothing,” he lied, refusing to meet my eyes. “Congratulations on your victory.”
Father congratulated me with a whoop and a fierce hug, which squished all the giggles out of me as I clung right back to him.
“Didja see, didja see-?” I began, and father laughed louder, kissing my cheek.
“Old friend, you’ve trained her wonderfully,” he congratulated my mentor. “Better than your own son, I noticed!”
“Thank you, my lord,” Rendon replied evenly. Nathaniel stood up, brushing himself off, looking bitter.
Oh. Oh.
Sod it all.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I found him later by our tree, angrily chucking stones into the lake.
“Hey,” I said hesitantly, unsure. He had to be aware of my approach, and yet he’d said nothing.
“Good match,” he said evenly, chucking another stone.
“What’s-”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he asserted immediately, lying.
I stamped a foot. “Nate,” I objected, stealing the next stone before he could chuck it. He blinked, looking at his hands, before glancing to me, sighing.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m being an ass.”
“A little,” I agreed solemnly, and he scowled, before a rueful expression took his face. “But I was an ass too, I shouldn’t’ve-”
“This isn’t your fault,” he interrupted me quietly. “Honestly. You did - you did everything right.”
“So what’s-”
“I’ll miss you,” he told me, and it was excuse enough; I launched myself at him and hugged him tightly.
“I’m not gone, you goose, just going home,” I pointed out. “You can visit me any time. You and Delilah. In fact, I insist!”
He chuckled faintly, reverberating his ribcage pleasantly, arms tightening around me. It began to provoke inconvenient feelings in me, so I disengaged. He sighed, shoulders slumping as he allowed it, eyes drifting to the lake. “It’s...going to be a little hard to visit, soon,” he said gently.
“See, that’s why you should come in late fall, and then, oops! Guess you can’t travel and you’ll have to stay in Highever all winter,” I informed him cheerfully. “I can’t wait to show you everything, home is so pretty, and our hounds are WAY better, and we have so many beautiful trees, and...hey. Why do you look so glum?”
His hands twitched, and for a concerning second, I thought he wanted to fold me into another hug.
I probably wouldn’t have resisted, which said something about me. I really needed to explain to Nathaniel to stop flirting so much, but - it was my fault, really, for getting carried away, and anyway, it wouldn’t matter, soon, right?
But instead he just shrugged helplessly. “I...don’t think that will work,” he claimed, and I sighed. Neither he nor Delilah were keen to visit me, and I didn’t really understand why, but letting them know I was hurt would just be rude.
“Of course,” I said simply. “Well, I hope you’ll find the time to visit me at some point.”
“You’ll still visit us, right?”
I gave him a wan smile. “Any time, Nate. Just...just ask.”
“Ok. Ok, then,” he said quietly. A faint smile crinkled his eyes, which seemed - stormier than usual. “You did amazingly, today.”
“YEAH I did,” I crowed gloriously, pleased he had recognized as much.
“I bet so many nobles are going to want to marry you, now that you’re going back home,” he pointed out, and I shoved him, hard.
“I’ll make you eat dirt again, I will,” I threatened him.
He chuckled, faintly, and with a surprising lack of grace for Nathaniel, plopped down on the ground, and after a moment, I came to sit next to him. “I’ve dreaded this day for so long,” he confided in me. And I blinked.
Then sighed. Damn these boys and their damnable pride. “Nathaniel, you’re still a much better rogue than me,” I admitted, words galling, but he deserved the honesty. “If you’d had real daggers, if you’d wanted to kill me - th’match would have been over much quicker. I just went for your weaknesses and tricked victory out of you.”
“Elsa!” he said, shocked. “I don’t-”
“Want to hurt me, I know,” I groused, rolling my eyes. “I just mean - I’m gonna have an advantage in friendly matches. ‘Specially against people I know. But when it counts, if you were up against a real bad guy...well, I’m very glad we’re friends, is all.”
“You wouldn’t have to leave if we were engaged!” he burst out.
I stared at him. And blinked. And fought the sudden tears in my eyes. Dang rogues, why did he always have to go for my weakest parts?
“Oh - oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” he said quickly
I laughed, forced. “Don’t joke like that, Nate, it’s rude.”
“I…” he said, trailing off. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“I forgive you,” I told him immediately.
“Liar,” he whispered. “I keep hurting you and you keep forgiving me, and-”
“Nate,” I breathed, aggrieved. “You’re making a big deal out of it. Stop. I said I forgive you and I mean it. You���re my friend, I don’t - I don’t want to be mad at you.”
“Oh.”
Silently we sat, staring at the water before us, Nathaniel a gloomy cloud next to me.
“I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished here,” I said quietly, wishing my friend would just be happy for me. “Even if - even if your dad thinks I’m silly, I’m - I’ve learned a lot. And I’m happy I’m going home. I missed my family, Nate,” I said quietly.
He hunched over, lower. “Oh. Maker. I’m such a selfish ass.”
Considering he was getting all contrary about visiting me and expected me to drop everything and visit him - “You are,” I agreed.
His scowl deepened, and somehow the shadows seemed to grow. “Are you going to forgive me for that too?”
I snorted, giving him a sidelong look, assuming he was teasing, but he just glared ahead. “Only if you come visit,” I teased him.
A spark of life appeared in his eyes, then. “Ok. That’s fair.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He never did end up visiting me, but he had a pretty good excuse. Not long after I left I got a letter, informing me he was going to go all the way to Starkhaven to start knight training. I may have thrown myself onto the bed and sobbed a bit when I read that. But he asked me to come visit to see him off, and there was really only one response.
Seeing the Howes again was fun, though of course Thomas challenged me to a sparring match right away and the cad tried to turn it into overly touchy wrestling. Unluckily for him, I suddenly remembered I didn’t have to care about pissing him off too much such that he’d whine to his father, so I simply caught him in an unforgiving headlock and choked him out, dropping him unceremoniously to the dirt when I finished.
Delilah claimed time, as apparently Nathaniel was getting his clothes fixed by Adraia, and had borrowed Helma from Delilah as well, so she found it only fair to borrow me.
We laughed and giggled and swapped stories about Nathaniel, both of us keen to avoid admitting how much we’d miss him.
“Did you ever tell him how you used to feel?” Delilah asked me.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m over it, Delilah, what’s the point in bringing that old story up?”
“I guess,” Delilah agreed, flouncing back on her bed, legs kicking out. “It’s still be cute though.”
I giggled. “You’re such a silly romantic,” I teased her. “What do you want me to do, write a love letter?”
“Elsa, no!” she protested, offended.
“Oh dearest Nate, my heart yearns the hardest, it burns so burningly,” I began performatively.
“Elsaaaaa!” she whined, standing up and stamping her foot. “You can’t confess through letters, that’s just wrong.”
“Didn’t what’shiface confess to what’sherface through a letter?” I pointed out slyly.
“Exactly,” Delilah agreed. “It went TERRIBLY. See-”
I quickly waved my hands in surrender. “No, please, don’t try to tell me about that book more, it’s rotting your brain.”
“I’m just saying,” Delilah pouted. “You’re friends. You shoulda told him properly, is all.”
I giggled. “I’m glad I didn’t. That would have been SO mortifying.”
“But-”
“Lilah, c’mon.” My eyes slid from hers, and her mouth snapped shut, apparently my tone was more serious than I meant to reveal. “I’m not as brave as you think I am.”
She sighed, and came to sit next to me, arm around my shoulder, and we sat in silence. “I’ll miss him.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and with effort, I forced them back. “Me too,” I whispered.
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Venus Mikaelson
What if....Fem!Harry Potter, Stella Lilian Potter died, 10 years after the war with the Dark Lord after her own husband Ron Weasley betrayed her after she catch him having an affair with their bestfriend Hermione Granger. She was reborn into another world as Venus Gilbert.
My parents Miranda and Greyson Gilbert died last Summer because of my sister Elena who is born a month after me well that's what Everyone tells me that we're twins born in different months from one another. I was in the car with our parents seating beside Elena, when our parents drowned and I also died for about 10 secounds before someone manage to bring me back to life, but every since I return from the dead the mark of the deathly Hallow has reappear on my left arm like a tattoo and my memories of my past life as Stella Potter has return to me as well as my Magic.
After our parents funeral, Jeremy and myself left Mystic Fall for a little while to get away and mourn our parents death, which our Aunt Henna allow us to get away for a time being, Jeremy and I have been to Australia and Georgia during the Summer after our parents death, before we return to Mystic Fall for the new School year.
I also been collecting copies of many Witch Grimoire I find during our travel and I made sure that Jeremy and myself are wearing a Vervain necklace, before we return to Mystic Fall. Which happen to be a Supernatural Central.
2 months after the First day od School Viki Donovan, who happen to be Jeremy's girlfriend and end up getting turn to a Vampire and was killed by one of the Salvator Brothers, and one of Elena's new Boy Toys. Elena tried to have Damon Salvator compell Jeremy to froget any feelings he currently have for Viki after they killed her.
Elena removed his vervain necklace before Damon compell him again before returning his necklace unknown to both Elena and Damon Salvator that Venus saw what they did to her younger brother.
The supernatural Drama center around Elena, so I avoid her group as much as I can so that I don't get drag to her Drama that might end up killing me. I Meet the Hybird Klaus Mikaelson the guy who wanted to Sacrifice Elena to break the curse that his mother put on him. And Aunt Jenna was the Vampire Sacrifice. If Elena wasn't keeping it secret from Aunt Jenna what has been happening then she might still be alive. I don't fully blame Klaus for Aunt Jenna's death, I blame Elena and her boy toys.
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1 and 1/2 years later...
I meet Klaus Mikaelson's younger brother Kol Mikaelson and the both of us end up falling in love with each other. And evenutally began dating one another in Elena's displeasure but I didn't care about that, Kol is the first guy I ever fell in love with in this new life of mine. But her happinese didn't stay for long, Elena and Jeremy hurt her the worse way by Killing Kol when he tried to stop tgem from reviving Silas the immortal, but they didn't listned all they cared anout is getting the Cure for Elena so that she can human again, not caring that Venus Loves Kol, they putt a dagger into his heart unknown to both Jeremy and Elena that Venus saw what they did. She expected this from Elena but not from her brother who she help rise when their parents are to busy with Elena.
I mourn his death for days, like I did my own parents death and since I am the mistress of Death I was able to summon hos soul by my side he told me about a spell that would be able to resurrect him which Death allow since Kol was not ment to stay dead. I aquired two blood belonging to Elijah and Finn Mikaelson along with Kol's own ash. I aquired Finn's blood before he was kill by Elena and her friends since Death warn me to take a few sample of Finn Mikaelson's blood which I did.
But It took me 4 months to get everything prepared and ready in the Maraduders retreats the house that I build just outside Mystic Fall that no one knows about with the exception of Kol. By the time everythung is ready for the Ritual. Jeremy Was already dead for months during the quest in Elena's search for the cure. Bonnie Bennett girlfriend of Jeremy plan to lower the viel to the other side just as Venus Gilbert began the ritual bring Kol back to life.
"Le Sang des deux feres, les cendres de leurs morts. Le sang des deux feres, les cendres de leurs morts " Venus Gilbert chanted spell 2 times, during the highest point of the moon.
Which was successful Kol Mikaelson is alive once more as a vampire again but regain something he thought he will never have again after being turn to a vampire, his magic, he js now the Original Heretics.
In the next few days would be their High School Graduation while Kol waited for her in Marauders retreats. Rebekah and her brothers now knew that Venus Gilbert managed to bring their dead brother Kol Mikaelson back to life at the same time Bonnie Bennett brought back Jeremy but their was price to bring Jeremy back to life, a Life for a Life.
Venus and Kol are waiting at tge end of Graduation before they leave Mystic Fall for good.
But the First Mikaelson to leave Mystic Fallhas been Elijah and Klaus who are now in New Orlean, While Rebekah spend the summer with Matt Donovan traveling like they both agree on before graduating High School. While Kol and I decided to go to England and I'm going attend Combridge University and oddly enough Kol decided to join me to School.
Kol and myself heard from Rebekah that Klaus gotten a she-wolf pregnant and it's not just any wolf either, it's tge very werewolf that Tyler Lockwoid end up cheating on Caroline Forbes. And Elijah seem to care for the little She-wolf, Hayley Marshall.
Elena and her friends fonally found out from Jeremy that Bonnie is dead. And Elena is devested maybe she will feel a small degree on how I felt when she and Jeremy killed Kol. Elena dosen't know how to handel it, but her boyfriend Damon Salvator was their for her when she discovered that her best friend Bonnie Bennett is dead.
On May 2, 2012
Hayley Marshall gaved birth to Klaus Mikaelson's Miracle Daughter Hope Mikaelson, who was taken by the New Orlean witches and they plan on sacrificing the new born, but Klaus, Elijah along with the newly turn Hybird Hayley saved Hope Mikaelson from being Sacrifice.
Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall gaved their Daughter Hope to Rebekah to hide along side his younger brother Kol and Venus until they had taken care of the problem that want Hope dead.
Luckly it's school break that Kol and Venus manged to protect Hope along side Rebekah, but it wasn't long When Klaus and the others has taken care of the witches of New Orlean. And Kol and Venus return to England for 1st year, in tge 2nd semester.
3 years later...
Kol Mikaelson and Venus Gilbert finally geaduate College now their moving to New Orlean to help Klaus and the others take care off their long lost Aunt Dahlia who take every first born child of the Mikaelson family as payment for helping her dister Esther Mikaelson have children of her own.
They even meet Klaus and others long lost older Sister Freya Mikaelson who was taken by Dahila when she was give years old. The family is trying to hide 3 years old Hope Mikaelson while they all take care of Dahlia and Easther Mikaelson along with the newly resurrected Finn Mikaelson that taken over the body of Vincent.
And with Kol Mikaelson now being the Original Heretic, he is much powerful than Finn currently is and he might even be stronger than his brother Klaus who's the original Hybird.
Klaus and the others finally manged to kill Dahlia, Esther and Finn Mikaelson. They were able to save Hope before she is taken from her family. Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall are finally reunited with their little daughter Hope Andrea Mikaelson.
Davina Claire the wife of Klaus Mikaelson help Hayley and Klaus rised their little daughter.
Kol and Venus spend travel that year after taking care off Dahlia, Esther and Finn. They travel Alaska and now they are in Paris France where Kol propose to Venus Gilbert, And she said "Yes".
So the whole family are gathering in New Orlean for Venus and Kol's wedding. But they didn't invited Venus two siblings since Elena might try to ruwin the wedding just so she can stop Venus from marrying Kol and that is something Both Caroline and Rebekah agree that Elena might do if she was invited to the wedding and Venus isn't going to chance it by inviting her sister. Venus use to be so close to her younger brother Jeremy Gilbert until he willingly kill Kol and that is the one thing that Venus would never forgive her brother for.
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1 and 1/2 year later...
On March 15, 2017
The Hallow took possessed of Hope's five years old body so in order save Hope Mikaelson. They have decided to split the Hallow evenly before all of them going in their seperate ways.
The first to leave New Orlean is Elijah Mikaelson and he moved to England. Then Rebekah fallow she move in Washington D.C., then their Kol and Venus who left next and they both decided to settle down in Sydney Australia. Then finally Klaus and Davina moved to New York.
Both Venus and Davina Mikaelson are pregnant their respected husband are excited to have a child with thrir wife.
While Hayley Marshall and her daughter Hope Mikaelson moved in Mystic Fall to attend Salvator Broading School with people like herself.
Hope made friends with the Saltzman twins Lizzy and Jossie.
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5 years later...
Davina and her daughter Faith Rosalinda Mikaelson
Are visit, Venus and Kol along with their daughter Sadiya Lilian Mikaelson
They always visit each other when they can, while they are cousin they mostly see one another as sisters. They are only 5 years old but they are already smart enough to know that their Klaus and Kol Mikealson can't be near one another it's to dangerous because of the enity that was split equally between their Aunt and Uncles before they were born to saved Faith's 10 years older half sister Hope Mikaelson who they have never meeg before.
6 years later..
Hope Andrea Mikaelson is now 16 years old, but she is jealous of her younger half sister she never meet since she gotten the chance to grow up with their father, while he can't go near her without endanger her life that it feels like I don't exist to him anymore since he never try to contact her the only one stay in contact with her is Her Aunt Freya and that's because she dosen't have a hallow sealed inside her.
Elena Gilbert end up marring Damon Salvator but they never had children together. Their is one greatest regret she ever did force Damon to Compell her younger brother Jeremy to Kill Kol Mikaelson to stop him from stoping them search for the so call vampire "cure" but in the end Jeremy end up dead, my sister Venus end hating me and Jeremy for killing Kol. And bonnie lower viel to bring back Jeremy to life in return she died I lost my bestfriend. And Jeremy also end up hating my guts for forcing him to kill Kol which end up our sister Venus hate us even know she still never forgived us for Killing Kol even though she manged to rescurrect him.
Jeremy Gilbert end up marring a woman he meet in College after Bonnie died and they have one daughter together an 8 years old by tge name of Lydia Rose Gilbert.
#Miranda and Greyson Gilbert#Viki Donovan#Elena Gilbert#Jeremy Gilbert#Jenna Summer#Matt Donovan#Rebekah Mikaelson#Elijah Mikaelson#Klaus Mikaelson#Bonnie Bennett#Kol Mikaelson#Fem!Harry Potter!Reincarnated Venus Gilbert#Fem!Harry Potter Stella Lilian Potter#Ron Weasley#Hermonie Granger#hayley marshall#legacies#vampire diaries#minor mention!harry potter#hope mikaelson
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Gavin deviating because Nines teeth are very similar to canines
Niles wasn’t much of a social person, didn’t smile a great deal either, at least that’s what Gavin had gathered over the weeks of working with the man. It didn’t really bother him, most people didn’t smile that much at him and he didn’t really have feelings that could be hurt by that, despite looking like he was pissed all the time. Sometimes he wondered if that was what got him stuck with mister Stick-Up-His-Ass.
As Niles spoke he kept it simple and quick, or spoke evenly to the point he didn’t move too much. The GV wondered if the man’s face worked half right. Had he been of his own mind he might have asked his brother about it, but for now he just learned to deal with it.
Following the man on a late evening run to a coffee shop, Gavin wondered why it was that he got dragged along for the break. It’s not like he needed to have coffee and everyone else already had something, but he listened and took a seat at one of the tables, waiting on Nines to get what he wanted. Thankfully there were still places serving it despite the hour, might be the cops that stop in so much.
The android’s led lit up yellow seeing what he got. “Detective, despite having a high metabolism it isn’t very good to have that much sugar. I’m sure you could kill someone with that.” He wondered how the man could live off sweets.
It was one of the few things Gavin would get reactions for, mostly a huff and what could almost be called a pout. “I will eat what pleases me, I know how to take care of myself. I have been doing fine so far.”
The GV shut his yap, but still a warning error popped up about the nightmare his partner’s diet was.
It was all well and good, the creamer for the coffee being in the little individual packages which wasn’t anything new for a place like this. What was new was watching Niles fiddle with the lid of container and fail. Gavin had been about to offer to help when the human chose to do it the old fashion way and rip it with his teeth, and that was a problem. Most humans had fairly flat teeth, but Niles’ were sharp. Almost k9 sharp, easily getting a hold of the cup lip and pulling it up to spit it on a napkin.
The image burned itself into Gavin’s hud, of the unique teeth the man sported and had it not been for the stuck image he might have thought he was seeing things. It burned his vision red.
In the time the android had taken to process this Niles had fixed up his coffee and made it to his treat. Gavin almost wished he hadn’t. The next glimpse of the teeth was on full display as he opened for a bite, both the top and bottom far more sharp than a human should need. And it was a little too much.
How could a human look like that? Like a husky trained to hunt? He just couldn’t believe that were real, and in a fit of wanting to know he lunged though the red of his vision and over the table, taking Niles’ cheeks in his hands. In his surprised Niles did nothing to stop him, jaw hanging open as the android stared.
“... Holy shit, meatbag, you have got some wild ass teeth.” Were the first words out of his deviant mouth, touching one of them just to be sure.
Plucking the hands from his face, the human gave him a deadpan stare. “Did you just go deviant over my teeth?”
Gavin shrugged, plopping back down into his seat. “To be fair, that’s kinda hot. Mine if I get another look?”
“Oh my god.” The poor detective couldn’t believe this, going red and hiding his face in his hand as the android snickered.
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My Raven (Vampire Diaries oneshot)
Word Count: 2k
Pairings: Elijah x OC, and then Klaus x OC
AN: I forgot this is based on two songs: One Headlight by The Wallflowers (though I really like The Ready Set’s cover) and Snuff by Slipknot. I went through some stuff in high school lol. And that’s a reminder; I wrote this like 6 years ago. I heavily edited it, but I don’t think it’s a great piece of writing by any means. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!! :)
(I also think I wrote another part to this, so if anyone wants that I can dig it up)
So long ago, I don't remember when.
That's when they say I lost my only friend.
"I can't lose you, Elijah!" I yelled after him, black hair whipping around as I frantically tried to catch his face through the trees. He couldn't leave me, not like this. He promised. "Please, don't go." I could hear the vulnerability in my voice, where it hadn't been present in years. I felt sick to my stomach; he shouldn't be able to do this to me. I can’t believe I thought I was getting my happily ever after.
They say she died easy of a broken heart disease,
As I listened, through the cemetery trees.
"I'm sorry, my love. I must," his voice whispered out of the trees and I tried to follow him, but my legs were stuck like cement to the grass. The compulsion wouldn’t even let me sink to the ground to cry. "Our love is forbidden, and you are not safe with me." That didn't stop him from asking me to marry him, though, did it? "Don't fret, I will find you again." The overwhelming freezing sadness I had felt before was leached out of me and suddenly replaced with an anger that shot through my system, burning my blood. All I had done for months was fret about him; his father was out to kill him and he was finally deciding to leave me behind! I clenched my fists at my sides and breathed in slowly.
"Don't lie, 'Lijah!" I yelled out into the void, my voice stronger and clearer than before. "This is our goodbye forever." I could feel the heavy truth of my statement ring throughout the clearing. Sudden soft footsteps sounded somewhere to my right, but I resisted the urge to look at the man who had toyed with my heart for so long. "What are you waiting for? Leave already." My voice held no emotion anymore, even as tears dripped down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," Elijah said again, sadder this time, and my heart cracked at the ridiculous amount of sincerity I thought I could hear in his voice, "I love you with all of my heart." I resisted an urge to snort, feeling a manic need to start laughing. If he loved me that much, he wouldn’t be doing this, and we both know it. "I give you my word that I will find you again," I gasped in a breath. His word meant everything to him. I immediately crushed the sprout of hope I wanted so badly to let grow in my chest. "Good-bye, my Raven." Then, he was gone, and the world around went black.
I looked up a few minutes later to see a new figure standing at the tree line. I got up mechanically and walked over to him.
"You seem different," he stated, smirking, no doubt having heard my and Elijah's conversation, "I wonder what could have happened?" This bastard, the man I had always thought of as a brother. How could I have been so stupid as to never see the monster inside. Every emotion in me seemed to bubble up all at once, it was overwhelming. I couldn’t focus, it felt like my brain and heart were being ripped out of my body. Closing my eyes, I focused on the absence I had been holding onto before. Meeting his eyes again, I could see he was taken aback at the coldness inside.
"Oh, nothing," I bluffed, turning around and walking away, "Just found a reason to turn off my humanity." I glanced back at him and smirked, the same smirk I had always seen on his face. I had learned from the best.
It always seemed such a waste,
She always had a pretty face.
I wondered why she hung around this place.
I woke up with an immense headache, again. My dream faded fast, but I knew what it meant. I glanced around and noticed my clothes strewn everywhere, but his were nowhere to be found. The shower turned on, and I silently moved into the middle of the floor. That dream could only mean one thing. 'Lijah was searching here. He couldn't find me so easily.
It was my fault he was so close. What was I thinking, crawling back to this bastard again? I sent a look of disgust at the door, even though it was fully directed at myself.
Using vampire speed, I picked up everything and got dressed. The skinny jeans came back on, along with the blue tank top and leather jacket. My sneakers were found in a vase and I had to pause for a moment to wonder when that happened. My nose crinkled as I realized the clothes in my own hotel room would have to stay there for quite a long time if I plan on getting out of this city before Elijah finds out I'm here.
If you love me,
let me go,
and run away before I know.
I could see the entrance to the hotel lobby. Freedom was in sight, mine for the taking. He wouldn't be able to question me on last night and Elijah wouldn't find me. Perfect.
"Hello there, love," his British accent almost made my knees buckle. I tell myself it's because it sounds so much like his brother's.
"What do you want, Klaus?" I asked snottily, trying to be nonchalant and pretend that nothing happened between us only a hand-full of hours ago.
“Why so cold, darling? Once upon a time we were almost siblings.” He gave that smile, the one made of slicing malice that gave a glimpse of the monster hiding inside. Although it seemed strange that he would bring up my previous engagement instead of the previous night, something about Klaus’s demeanor let me know that he’s the reason Elijah found me so quickly.
My heart is just too dark to care.
I can't destroy what isn't there.
“Yes, but unlike Kol or Finn, I don’t like you.” I answered, putting a bland smile on my face as I tried to hide how anxious I was to sprint out the door and never look back.
"Harsh, love." How does he know I love when he calls me that? I flinch inward at my own thoughts; now is not the time to get distracted. There isn’t anything to love about Klaus. He's a monster, murderer, and there's not a scrap of humanity in him! "I just came to say good-bye, Raven, since you seemed to have forgotten." I held my breath when he paused, watching that stupid smirk creep across his face. "But, about last night -"
"No!" My face heated at the thought of where that sentence was going, and I frantically glanced around, glad I hadn’t attracted too many stares. "It was a moment of weakness and it shouldn't have happened." Images from last night zoomed through my brain and I was incredibly glad that vampires couldn’t blush.
"Now, see, I would believe you," Klaus took a few steps closer until I had to look up at him, "if this was the first time." He paused to see if I would interrupt, his dark eyes searching mine, but I wasn't entirely sure what to say. "May I remind you of just a few months ago when we didn't leave my room for three days except to hunt? Or how about New Years?" he was talking low so no one around would hear, but my advanced ears heard everything perfectly. He brought up some fair points, but I could never let him know what those nights meant to me. I laced my fingers behind my back so he wouldn’t see them shaking as I focused on breathing evenly. "And let me just say, the best was probably the night Elijah left you." Klaus's voice turned even colder than mine had been. The blood drained from my face and my mouth went dry. He had no right to bring that up. The worst night of my life played in my mind over and over again, bringing back the pain and the heartbreak that made me turn my emotions off in the first place.
I went to finally say something--what, exactly, I wasn’t sure--but this time he shushed me. "Just, give in and be happy. That's all I want from you, Raven. Be happy." He coaxed. There was an odd sort of tone in his voice; I would call it sadness, except Klaus was incapable of such a human emotion. "Don't keep running away every time we meet up." My breath went shaky as I thought about it. Being with him was as natural as breathing, even as he set my blood on fire and everything in me screamed to hold on tight and never let him go.
Klaus, the beautiful and blonde vampire, who could massacre a village and then turn and look into my soul with such softness it hurt. Why was it so hard to say no all of a sudden? It wasn't compulsion, but that was the only explanation for why I hadn't run away already. He was the reason my life ended, the reason I don’t have anyone to care for. He doesn’t deserve any compassion, not after everything he’s done. I shouldn’t want to lean in and press our lips together, order him to take me back to his room. I should care that Elijah is here, searching for me, and for the life we never got to have together. My head is spinning, and that wave of emotion I pushed away so long ago threatens to pull me under again.
If you still care,
don't ever let me know.
"I can't." The words sounded forced and weak, even to me. I clear my throat and look into his crystal blue eyes. "I can't." This time it comes out more firmly, and I can see a dash of hurt behind his usual facade. "Elijah was my true love.” The lies tumble from my lips, but I find strength in their falsehood. “Anything with you was done because of weakness and because I was emotionally unstable. Goodbye, Klaus." I pick up my bag and start walking away with my head held high. After all, I learned from the best.
We'll run until she's out of breath.
She ran until there's nothing left.
She hit the end,
it's just her window ledge.
Klaus sped in front of me and stared into my unemotional brown eyes. I could see the panic on his face for that split second, as if he really didn't want me to go. There was a world of words he was conveying, all too much for me to comprehend. Then, his features flattened, he stepped aside, and I walked out, trying not to show how surprised I was that Klaus let me see past his wall of emotional protection, even if it was only for a moment.
The second I was outside, tears started streaming silently down my face. I loved Klaus, almost always had. Ever since the night 'Lijah left, when he tried to help me pick up the pieces. I’ve pretended to forget how his actions affected me that night, but it was the first time I had felt alive since becoming a vampire. I thought my love for him was like a brother until that night, when I found out that my love for Klaus was so intense it scared me.
We wouldn't ever work, though. I sniffled and wiped my eyes as I stood against the wall outside the hotel. It would never work out. He was only after me as an ally. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. He was all for the kill and the power. How do I know he won't just kill me when I'm no longer useful? I can't trust him. My excuses feel weak, but they’re all I have.
Not bothering to glance around, I take off, already picking my next destination and leaving all of my problems behind.
If you still care, don't ever let me know...
#vampire diaries#fanfiction#fanfic#klaus mikaelson#elijah mikaelson#songfic#oneshot#klaus x reader#elijah x reader#rambling rabbit writes
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Distance
Part 10
Being apart of a family, even a haphazard one can be complicated. This family was being pulled apart at the seems and I wasn’t sure that I would be strong enough to keep it together. Something told me that this was just the beginning and that I would have to give up more before this was done. I just hoped it wouldn’t be them or him.
Eilene’s pov
I was walking into the front door of the den when I saw Hamish barreling down the stairs and Randall coming out from the kitchen. “What happened. Are you ok?” They each said at the same time. Hamish came to stand right in front of me as I put my hand on his chest to reassure him I was fine. “I’m ok, I just got a little tied up is all.” He gave me a quick once over and then said “What happened?” I was about to explain when Hamish’s hand gripped my wrist and I hissed. With that his eyes got big and he immediately pushed the sleeve of my jacket away and said “A little tied up?” Randall moved forward while saying “Hey let me take a look.” This was a mistake, as Hamish snapped his head toward Randall with a snarl and Tundra moving to his eyes. I stepped closer to him while extending my other out to Randall to stop him. “Hamish, look at me, hey it’s ok. I’m ok and he’s just trying to help.” It took a moment and then finally looked down at me. He calmed a bit. Still holding his gaze I spoke to Randall. Randall, please get the first aid kit and start some tea.” Randall left the room and I leaned more into Hamish. He brought his arms securely around me and said “What happened and who tied you up?”
Hamish’s POV
I took in everything Eilene was saying but it was also taking everything within me to not take her upstairs, lock us in my room and keep her in our bed. Tundra fully agreed. She explained what happened and we went over everything that happened with the Promethean’s and about Praxis. I was standing across the Island from her so that I could check her for more injuries. Randall finished cleaning up her wrist and wrapped them. It may take a few hours for them to heal and she would be ok, but it didn’t change the fact that someone had hurt her in the first place. I noticed that she had finished her tea and started rubbing her neck. “Alright, I think we have all had a long day and should get some rest.” Randall seemed to read the room for once and just said “Good night kids, don’t stay up too late.” and left. I came over to stand in front of Eilene and ran my hand up to her shoulder. “Come on let’s get you to bed.”
Then I leaned down, brushed my lips against hers and rested my forehead against hers. “I’d like nothing more.” she said. I took her hand in mind and we went upstairs. She decided to jump in the shower and I thought about joining her but decided to give her some space. When she came out she was drying her hair with a towel. “I don’t think Foley is the real leader of Praxis and we should try to find Salvador” by now she was within arms reach in nothing but my t-shirt and some underwear. It was easy to reach out and bring her to stand in between my knees. I took the liberty to run my hands along her legs, over her butt and to her sides while she finished drying her hair. “I’m serious, there’s more to this then whats on the surface.” She said as she tossed the towel and then brought her hand to my shoulders. “I agree with you, but before we dive into that pool I would very much like to check your wrists.” I said looking up at her. She huffed and said “as you wish.” I smiled at the reference and unwrapped the gauze on her wrists. Her right was completely healed and on the left there was just a faint scar. I brought it to my lips and kissed it. “All better.” I said again looking up to her.
Eilene’s pov
Hamish and I seemed to fall back into our old routines. With the exception of him being ready to take off someone’s head every now and again. I brought my hands up to the back of his neck and started to rub my fingers through his hair. “Thank you.” I said and I kissed him. Softly at first but he reacted quickly and his grip tightened around me. We stayed like that for a while just kissing with his arms practically locked around me. He pulled back just an inch and breathed out “I don’t like you getting hurt or being in harms way.” at first his eyes were closed and then opened them to meet mine. I brought my hands to frame his face and said “I am also a werewolf Hamish remember, long the road and short the life.” At that last bit his hands gripped my sides. “It doesn't mean I don’t like it any less.” He said. I just looked at him for a moment. How could he do this, how could the man that I cared so much about, one who didn’t fully remember who I was still send what felt like shock waves through me? “I know” I whispered. “Now shut up and kiss me.” He smiled at that and said “As you wish.” Then brought his lip to mine.
I felt his hands travel underneath my shirt and up along my back. Once he had the shirt off, he threw it behind him and pulled my into lap with each of my legs on his sides and then his lips moved to my neck as he trailed kisses down to my collar bone. He was being slow and precise while his hands roamed from by back to grip my butt. Our breathing had gotten heavy but when he slightly bit down on my neck I couldn’t help but moan. When he heard it his eye snapped up to mine and he said “I want to hear that again.” He kissed me on my lips, this time deeper and then he went to the other side of my neck to repeat the same slow torture. He was rewarded with another moan. I trailed my hands down his chest reaching for his shirt as I pulled it up and over his head. I kissed him and then said with a smile “You have me at a disadvantage Mr. Duke, you’re wearing more clothes than me.” He stood up with me in his arms and walked us over to his desk which he laid me down on. Then he quickly took off everything but his boxers. “Your turn.” He breathed out before kissing me again. This time his hands went to unclasp my bra and then toss it over his shoulder. He went back to kissing my neck but this time kept going past my collar bone. He teased each breast and nipple with his tongue and teeth. I couldn’t help but huff out and bite my lip in an effort to hold back more moaning.
Hamish’s pov
I could tell Eilene was trying to hold back. Maybe she was trying torture me with it because she knew what hearing her did to me or maybe she was trying to keep apart of herself separate because of our situation. In any case I wanted her to open up to me, I wanted to hear every sound I could make fall from her lips and I wanted it all to myself. Something about being with her was different, more heightened. Maybe it was a werewolf thing or maybe it was just how were were with each other. I couldn’t focus on any of that now, just her, only her. I wrapped one hand around the back of her neck to kiss her lips again and when I did I caught her bottom lip with my teeth. She hissed at that and kissed me back. Having her sitting up on my desk made this easier. I trailed my other hand down the curves of her side. “I want to savor every moment of you.” I said as I slipped that hand into the front of her underwear. I let out my own sigh when I felt how wet she was and then kissed her hard. As I rubbed her along her folds and up to her clit her breath hitched, but she still hadn’t moaned for me again. I let out a low growl and then went to attack her neck again with kisses. I had to hear her again no matter what. I began to rub her clit in circles and with the slightest more pressure and then there it was “Hamish” she whispered. “It’s time for these to go.” I said and I pulled my hand away to take her underwear off.
But before I could put my hands back on her, I felt her hand on the bulge in my boxers. “Not so fast.” she said and kissed me as she kept rubbing me. I groaned and then placed my hands flat on the desk framing her hips. I could tell she wanted to draw this out and enjoy it as much as I did. She ran her free hand up my bare chest and to my cheek as she kissed me and then started trailing to my neck. All the while still stroking me through my boxers. My hips moved forward into her hand and my breathing got heavy. She was beating me at my own game. I moaned into her mouth as she kissed me again. My hands ticked, I wanted to touch her to make her moan again. I picked her up to her surprise and then laid her back down on the bed. I got rid of my boxers and then trailed kisses up her body and back to her lips. Her legs spread for me and wrapped themselves around me.
I was kissing her deeply as I pushed inside her slowly. I stayed there for a moment and then moved in and out as slow as I could. This got her breathing deeply in between kisses but not moaning yet. I decided it was time to kick this up a notch. I began to move my hip only slightly faster but more deeply while I kissed her neck and cupped her breast. And there it was, she moaned as she arched up toward me. I wanted to live in those sounds. Before I could think any more on it she rolled us so she could straddled me. I couldn’t bear to not feel her skin against mine so I sat up to pull her in. This was an even better angle that allowed me to grip be butt and still set the pace. At this point we were both a tangle of limbs and moans. I started pulling her in faster and her head fell back exposing her neck to me. I locked my lips to her pulse point and soon enough my name was on her lips “Hamish....I” she huffed and then I moved faster and finally “Hamish!”
Afterwards we just laid in bed. I was on my back with Eilene curled into my chest. She was already asleep and breathing evenly when I finally closed my eyes. I thought I would be too exhausted to dream, but I was wrong. It seemed like just a replay of memories. I was on the phone with Eilene filing her in on Jack and the Order as she was driving home. Then I was at the Blade and Chalice when a member of the order came up to me and blew white powder in my face. But there was something else - I was in my bed but could hear voices “How could you be so stupid.” - it was Vera. “I did what I had to, since no one else seemed to able to protect the Order. We have to find a way to keep these wolves in check if your plan fails.” - I didn’t recognize that voice at first. Then I could hear Vera huff out “It they find out that you have messed with their memories especially about one of their own and are trying to use her as a bargaining chip, They will be more inclined to slit our throats then help The Order.” The other person was quick to reply “They wont find out, I preformed that Respondio myself Vera.” There was a moment of silence and then “Kepler, how many times will I have to tell you, I am your Grand Magus.” Then it all faded out and I woke up with a start. Eilene was still in bed just turned away from me. I curled myself around her to bring her close and kissed her shoulder. I could feel Tundra lurch forward with anger. There was nothing I could do tonight except hold the woman I loved close to me. The woman someone had tried to take away from me.
Part 11 coming soon!
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Could you write a Taang medieval AU please? All I really want is Toph with armor and a sword being the lost princess. And maybe saving Aang a few times.
i hope this is what you wanted, i think it’s pretty cute at least, really cheesy at the end
word count: 1500
read it on ao3
“I’m supposed to be your royal guard!” Aang yelled.
“And you're doing such a good job!” Toph smiled. She waved the sword in her hand around wildly, it made Aang’s anxiety spike drastically. “I’m alive and uninjured! Look at you go.”
“I’m going to pretend that wasn’t sarcasm and take the compliment.” Aang took his sword from Toph’s hand. He stepped over the unconscious body of Toph’s victim.
“You could do that, but I thought you didn’t like lying?” Toph laughed, she followed Aang through the woods. The rough terrain being hard for her to navigate. “How do we even know I’m the ‘lost princess’?”
“One, you're blind,” Aang paused to guide her over a large fallen tree. “Two, you're the right age, and three, who’s to say you aren’t.”
“Aang willing to lie?” Toph asked in fake astonishment. “And to the authorities nonetheless? Who are you?”
“You literally have the flying boar inscription on your wrist. A clear indication that you are the Beifong heiress. I wouldn’t be lying and even if I was, I need the money. Believe it or not, being a guard doesn’t pay that well.”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Toph agreed. “It being so easy and all.”
“Okay, just because you saved my life back there doesn’t mean you can call my job ‘easy’,” Aang said. “There’s a lot of training that goes into it.”
“And I bet it’s probably horrible for your moral compass, having to hurt people,” Toph brought up. She placed her hand on the trees, feeling the patterns in the bark.
“Yeah, don’t remind me. It’s hard enough without someone bringing it up.”
“Well, I mean if you just gave me a sword you wouldn’t have to protect me,” Toph suggested. She made a reach for Aang’s sword, he saw and put a hand out to stop her.
“I don’t think that would end up well,” Aang laughed. “For obvious reasons.”
“I handled myself pretty well back there,” Toph defended herself. “And if you were to teach me, I’m sure that I would be able to do it.”
“Princess Beifong,” Toph cringed at the title. It was especially horrible coming out of Aang’s mouth. “It isn’t very proper for a woman to know how to swordfight.”
“Do you think anything I’ve done so far is proper?” Toph asked.
“Well, no,” Aang lifted a low branch up so Toph could walk past. “But I doubt your parents would like you to know something like that.”
“My parents don’t make my decisions for me. I am autonomous in case you’ve forgotten.” Toph crossed her arms. She refused to walk any further. Aang sighed.
“Do you really want to know how to swordfight?” Aang asked. Silently pleading for her to say ‘no, this was all just a joke, funny right?’
“Yes, I do,” Toph confirmed Aangs worst fears.
“Alright, there’s a town a little ways away with a good armoury. We can get you a better suited sword than mine,” Aang smiled when he saw Toph’s eyes widen in wonder. He would not fall for her. He made himself promise that when he met her. He was learning that not all promises could be kept, and when love was involved, everything would get more complicated.
Toph walked with new motivation and fervour. Anxiously anticipating getting a sword of her own. She could just imagine the feel of a weapon in her hands, evenly waited. Cold steel against the warmth of her skin. The fluidity of motion when swinging it. The clash of metal against metal during a fight. It was a whole world she had yet to discover, and she wanted to be adventurous.
The deal sweetened knowing that Aang would be teaching her. At first, when they met, he seemed dainty. She didn’t think he would ever be able to protect. He definitely wouldn’t be able to get her across the continent to the kingdom, but Aang surprised her. He was caring and genuine and unlike anyone she’s ever met. It was refreshing, he didn’t make her feel less than anyone else because she was blind. He treated her like a person, a real person that could handle themselves.
To everyone that knew Toph, they knew she didn’t like to admit she was vulnerable. She would never admit to needing help sometimes. She would also never admit to having feelings. It grew more and more apparent every day that she and Aang spent together she was falling a little harder. Every time he would grab her hand to lead her through a particularly rough patch of earth. Every time he would read her what was written somewhere in the towns they passed through.
They didn’t even have to make camp in the forest that night before they made it to the armoury. If Toph had been able to see at that moment she was sure she would have fainted. She had a vague sense of how large the armoury was, she was amazed. Aang looked at her, the amazed look on her face. Looking at her observing the swords and daggers and chainmail, Aang had a sudden realization. He was in love with Princess Toph Beifong, heiress to the largest Kingdom in the world. Oh no.
Toph paused in front of a sword in the corner, it looked old. A little beaten, but it intrigued Toph. She reached out and picked it up. It felt good in her hands. Evenly weighted in her hands. It was perfect. “This one. I want this one.”
“Are you sure? That doesn’t seem like it would hold up,” Aang said, looking at the rust that had settled on the blade.
“I’m sure. I want this one,” Toph confirmed. Aang took it to the clerk, purchasing it for a low price due to its conditions. He also bought a vinegar scrub to clean the rust off of it.
“Why do you want this old thing? It seems like you’ve got a perfectly good sword already. Why waste time on this piece of junk?” The clerk asked.
“I don’t know,” Aang said, he spared a glance back at Toph. It just seemed to confirm his love for her. Aang definitely broke his promise, but he wasn’t that mad at it. “It just feels right.”
“Well, suit yourself. Happy to get rid of that old thing.” Aang and Toph left the armoury. They rented a room at the local inn and Aang got to work showing Toph how to properly care for a sword.
He helped her clean the rust off, guiding her hands. They were soft, uncalloused, unlike his. They were nimble, but Aang knew exactly what danger they could bring. The power they held, the chaos they could wreak. She paused, her hands halting.
“What’s wrong?” Aang asked. He was concerned, it was cute in Toph’s opinion.
“When I get back to the Kingdom,” Toph said, “my kingdom, will you still be there?”
It was rare to see Toph vulnerable, or emotional, but here she was. She was asking Aang if he’d still be there even after she returned home. She was so open in that moment.
“You’d still want me there?” Aang asked. “Even after being stuck with me for so long?”
“Yes, I would,” even when she was vulnerable, she was confident.
“I’d love to stay, but I don’t know if your parents would want me to stay,” Aang said. “I do work as a soldier in another kingdom.”
“Oh, okay.” Aang could hear the sadness in her voice. It broke his heart a million times over.
“But, I’m sure that I could find another occupation if you wanted me to stay.”
“I wouldn’t want to burden you with staying,” Toph said quickly, putting her walls back up. Steeling herself.
“If it were for you, it wouldn’t be a burden. Princess Beifong,” Aang paused.
“Please don’t call me that, we’re well past that stage. Call me Toph.”
“Toph,” Aang corrected himself. “I love you.”
She inhaled sharply. Her eyes widened. “You love me?”
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry,” Aang apologized. “I didn’t want it to happen, but the more we were together, the harder it was to ignore.”
Toph had always been a bit impulsive, she never wanted to regret not doing something. She cupped Aang’s cheeks in her hands–soft, delicate, but deadly–and kissed him.
“Don’t apologize for that, Aang,” Toph smiled. “It was outside of your control, besides the feeling is mutual.”
“Now, I really don’t think you're parents will like me,” Aang laughed.
“Why not?”
“Well, I got their daughter, the princess, to fall in love with me, a soldier from another kingdom.”
“That shouldn’t matter,” Toph said.
“Status matters, whether we like it or not. Your parents probably won’t approve of us,” Aang replied, his tone was gentle, comforting.
“Well if they don’t approve of us, I can always run away,” Toph joked. “If I did would you come looking for me?”
“I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Toph Beifong.”
#taang#thank you for the prompt#this was fun to write#aang#toph#toph beifong#atla#avatar: the last airbender#medieval au#tophaang#fic#taang fanfiction
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