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comfortless · 20 hours

Note

i have been thinking about this for a while and i love how you write, so what do you think of biker!könig with a gf that studies in uni? how did they meet? does he get jealous easily of her classmates? what is the aftermath of his jealousy (😏)?

thank you so much 🩷

-🌵

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fem (afab) reader, suggestive, but mostly just two sillies attempting to flirt.

They first cross paths at a gas station. Sundown and desolate apart from the woman who approaches the tiny shop on foot whilst he straddles his bike at the pump.

She doesn’t notice him, and that’s just fine. More often than not, people do but for the wrong reasons. It’s always the height or the face only his mother could love. This is a good thing, shows she’s not hasty with her judgment, shows she’s just unaware enough to let something like him in.

It’s stupid, completely ridiculous at how he feels his heart thump to life, ribcage squeezing and stomach a whirl with butterflies at the mere sight. The furthest thing from love comes to mind at the sight: plush thighs peeking out against the hem of shorts that cut off just below her bum, the tight tanktop that displays her cleavage in a way so enticing. But that’s what he immediately thinks of, that word that seems foreign to him even in his mother tongue.

Love.

König could be a gentleman, lie her down in his bed instead of fucking her over the bike, if she were kind enough to follow him home. That offer feels heavy as lead on his tongue, lost someplace in his throat when he really gets a good view of her.

He’s never been good with talking to women, anyway. Especially not an angel so far out of his league she would surely only scoff with her sweet drink in hand, turn away from him with her nose held high and dark circles under her eyes as she suffers through another paper back at her dorm or wherever she came from.

So, he leaves her be as much as he can and should, only watches her with his helmet in place and that dark visor masking where his eyes wander from her face down to the retreating view of her legs as she walks.

The next time time is during the rain.

König is good at refraining from acting on base instinct. There’s a lot to consider before stealing away some miserable dove on the sidewalk, the light drizzle from above soaking into her dress and battering her lashes as she sits and waits for a ride that just doesn’t seem to be coming. He’s got his military background, keeps his house tidy and rarely muddles in the affairs of other people.

It’s just that she’s cold.

He tells himself that the only reason he stops his bike some meters away is because she will get sick if he doesn’t offer her a ride. He’s just being a gentleman. There’s nothing more to it.

So he does. Keeps his helmet on and masks his face as well as the weird excitement and nervousness in his voice when the muffled offer taints the wet air.

It doesn’t matter that he wouldn’t have never considered any of this if she weren’t so cute. If she didn’t look so fragile and sweet. She smiles and nods immediately, fusses with her dress a bit when she climbs onto the bike behind him when she tells him that she’s only just been on a date. It just hadn’t turned out well and whoever the bastard had been had dipped before even the entree was served.

It sends his mind spiraling when it shouldn’t.

It’s deranged to think of her misfortune as fate when it isn’t.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know where to put my hands,” she laughs someplace against his shoulder, chin just slightly tilted up to bump his damp t-shirt. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever heard, not mocking at all, only shy.

“Around me.”

He sounds like an old pervert, feels just like one when he takes her hands into his own and guides them around his middle. Presses in a bit too tight, because it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman so close and it feels good to be held like this.

She makes some quiet noise, a soft gasp, then presses her face into the darkness of his shirt to hide away from the rain or maybe…

“You can come home with me. It’s close.”

She laughs again, and he’s reminded of just how little tact that he has with the fairer sex. She must think him an idiot, some hopeful vigilante that scoops women up from the street after nightmare dates with bad food or bad dick. It sounds so stupid to his own ears, he knows he’s burning crimson beneath the black helmet.

Until she squeezes him a bit, gives what must be her best attempt at a hug from their positioning. Again, too, maybe out of surprise that there’s muscle there. Something a woman like her might like.

“I’ve got nothing to lose, huh?” and then “You seem a lot nicer than he was, anyway.”

The air gets stolen from his lungs and his jaw grows loose. She had only told him yes to maybe sitting on his couch, watching some miserable war film until he brought her back to her academic wasteland, but not a part of him had expected that.

It takes a moment for him to realize he hasn’t said a word, that he’s sat panting like some stay being offered a meaty bone. He takes a moment to reposition her grip around him, too ashamed of the way his cock springs to life at her closeness and the ridiculous fantasy playing out in his head.

“Right… you can dry off there.”

He doesn’t immediately remove the helmet when she steps into his abode, just guides her over to the washroom when she asks if he would mind if she used his shower and lets her be. That room has never known a woman’s touch, and the shirt he gives her to change into isn’t comparable to the cute, floral thing she was wearing.

He takes her dress to the dryer to distract himself from the fact that she’s naked in there, just a flimsy door away. Changes out of his own sopping wet clothes after considering that maybe she would want to touch him again. Maybe it felt nice for her too, just to hold someone. He could hold her too, if she wanted that, bring her right to his bed and keep her safe and warm.

“You’re out of conditioner,” she peeps as she steps back out of the bathroom. “Just thought you would want to…”

Her eyes trail over him for a time as her words taper off to nothing. Then, they’re locked to his face and any hope goes up in an inferno. The scars are probably scary, the dark circles from weeks of minimal sleep are probably even worse. She probably thinks him some sort of monster or a demon, something no girl should be left alone with.

Then, she smiles.

“Wow…”

“What…?”

He expects the worst and instinctively casts a sideways glance toward the helmet sat by the door. The perfect covering to avoid situations like this. It’s not that he’s dependent on it, but… maybe he would have had some sort of chance had he not taken it off.

“I’m sorry for staring, you’re just really…”

Ugly. Scary. Whatever words she’s considering, he doesn’t care to hear them. She could just ask to go home, save herself some fear and save him from another rejection.

“… cute.”

“Okay.”

Scheisse.

That wasn’t a “thank you” or anything of substance, but this is more mortifying than anything prior. Even the women who had pitied him with a date before had never called him something so endearing, never likened him to some adorable little thing or stared up at him like she does now. She only seems giddy, a fire burning behind her eyes like she’s just discovered some secret treasure.

“… cuter than your date?,” he hazards, rolls his shoulders and tilts his head at her. His attempt at sounding confident only comes across bitter and jealous. Maybe he is, but that fucker blew his chance, and she’s blessing König with far too many.

“Definitely.”

The tension feels tangible, despite the absurdity of all of this. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, where to look, what to say or how long to take between breaths.

She’s stood there in his shirt, looking as if she’s already his and he’s the one left feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“I think you’re pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Ever since I first saw you, I…” He’s babbling too much, losing any composure because she just keeps her eyes trained on him, that adorable smile curling at her lips. If he sounded creepy, like he’s been following her, she doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Maybe you could take me on a date sometime,” she suggests, her voice coming as a breathy little whisper. Maybe she is shy, but she’s giving him the OK to push and prod and see just how far he can go, to expend all of his luck on this very night.

The rain outside only grows louder, threatening to cut the power and leave this docile angel in some dark pit with a mad king. He wishes it would, it grows harder to keep the prominent excitement in his crotch concealed the more that she talks and bats her eyelashes at him.

Being over-eager was a turn-off, right? He weighs his next words the best he can, considers playing it safe for just half a moment before they escape him anyway.

“Come here.”

There’s a darker storm brewing in his eyes when she takes those first, fragile steps toward him. But she graces him with the light of a spark when her hand finds his chest and presses there, feels his heart beating like it’s a normal thing to search for, like she’s just as mesmerized and surprised as she is now.

She’s snared in an instant with a face buried into her damp hair, lifted up with her legs guided to wrap around his waist. A decade worth of luck spent just like that, but he’s always been greedy.

The demand for more comes with a callused hand guiding her chin up. Her lips part immediately, eyelashes fluttering until they rest atop her cheeks, already warmed with the anticipation of what’s to come. His kissing begins gentle, soft for a second as he tries to memorize the plushness and curvature of her lips with his mouth alone.

Then, it’s only punishing.

He tries to hold himself back, but knowing he could have had this weeks ago while she was wandering about barely dressed drives him insane. The moment she gasps against his mouth, his tongue slips inside to find hers, rolls over it with such a ferocity that the corner of her mouth begins to glisten with their shared drool. She whines, then moans as her hands curl over his neck, petting at the short hair at the base of his skull.

His hands fall to her ass to keep her in place, gives her a pinch and then a grope when he realizes she’s not wearing underwear at all.

And that’s where the well must have run dry, because she tilts her face away with a series of soft pants, squeezes her trembling thighs around him as if to make a silent demand to stop, or maybe not. Everything she does makes him feel both hot and crazy; she doesn’t even attempt to wind out of his grip here, only looks up at him sultry and helpless. She must be wet, he can smell it, practically taste her already, but he doesn’t persist when she halts this dance.

“Wait… waitwait. I don’t even know your name.”

“König.”

She laughs breathlessly, then dips her head to press against his shoulder. His hand immediately rises to pet at her hair, twirling a few strands between his fingers as she tells him her name in turn.

“I don’t really want this to just be… one night, you know?,” she says, and that intrigues him.

“That so..?”

“Mhm…”

He slowly lowers her back down until her feet meet the carpeted floor, then takes her face into both hands while she gives him a cute pout. He could be sympathetic, could make her love him even… she’s left the door open for him already, after all.

“I could just hold you,” he mutters, tracing a circle into her cheek, savoring in the way her eyes seem to light up at that.

“I would like that.”

#könig x reader #konig x reader #being gifted this ask after that one anon put the thought in my head to begin with? you all are a godsend actually

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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 days

Text

── PEREGRINE // PROLOGUE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You are invited to the wedding of an old friend.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: literally shaking as i post this because i have NOT been in the bllk fandom for long enough to be writing a fic for it but oh well #livelaughlove. some authors post new stories because they’re proud of their work. i post new stories because then when i write like shit i disappoint less people.

divider credits: @/benkeibear

Seishiro Nagi had always been beautiful when he ran, albeit atypical in his form. He lacked the fierceness that the others on his team had, his feet never pounding against the turf the way theirs did, his strides never swallowing the ground in quite that same manner. Instead, his steps were light, like he was dancing, or perhaps flying, like he was a falcon diving across the field in pursuit of his next goal.

He was the only thing that could unite your entire miserable, shitty town. Everyone was outside that day, crowding in restaurants to crane their necks at the little screen in the corner, pressing together in the square to peer up at the projection of the tied match, which only had a few minutes left to go before the end of the second half.

Nagi had the ball. You weren’t really sure how he had gotten it, who had passed it to him or what maneuver he had used to get around the other team’s defense, but it was all irrelevant. He had the ball, and as he barreled towards the other team's goalkeeper, the entire town held its breath.

Even you, who were never supposed to have much interest in soccer nor in Seishiro Nagi, found yourself worrying your lower lip between your teeth, leaning forward slightly, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Come on, Nagi,” you murmured. “We’re so close. Come on.”

A few more steps and a strategic feint, and then he had made it behind the defenders. The town swelled with anticipation as victory became all but certain, as the clock ticked nearer and nearer to the moment when Nagi would pull off one of those impossible moves of his, where he would slam the ball into the net and win the game for his team once again.

But the moment never came. For some reason, right as he drew his leg back to shoot, Nagi froze. His foot never connected with the ball; instead, it slowly came back down to rest as he stared down at his muddy cleats.

“What is he doing?” someone said. The cheers turned to whispers as Nagi proved himself to be a statue, incapable of moving, of defending his possession, of scoring, of anything. He just stood there, and as one of the defenders stole the ball off of him and passed it to the opposing team’s striker, he did not make any attempts to turn around and make up for his mistake. He just stood there, contemplating something, a cloudy dreaminess settling over his eyes. It was the most disconcerting thing you had ever seen, that complete apathy in face of an imminent loss, that resignation to an eventuality which he himself had created.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” a man screamed, and then it was a mass chaos as the people who had been praising Nagi only seconds earlier turned to baying for his blood, demanding he never play again as a punishment for his great sin.

They got their wish. The next season, and the next, Seishiro Nagi spent every match on the bench, not even afforded the role of a substitute, no matter how tired the rest of the team grew without his relentless presence, how many games they lost when they did not have him to rely on.

That first season after his disastrous loss, he was made a mockery of. Every single news article was about his downfall, every reporter charting out with glee the exact moment that he had gone from the media’s darling to their newest scapegoat. By the second season, though, he was largely forgotten. There were more exciting things, newcomers who had entered the league and dominated matches with their own unique styles, and so when it became clear that Nagi would not give them the reactions that they were hoping for, the journalists turned to talking about those players instead.

After that, he stopped going to games entirely.

There was another woman in your bed. You could hear her shuffling footsteps, the way your fiancé hushed her, her giggles as she ducked into some hiding spot or another, likely behind his neatly pressed work suits. You could picture it now — such a domestic scene it must’ve been. His arm, wrapped around her shoulders as he guided her to the closet. Her fingers, still working themselves free from his light hair. His eyes, a bright amber that would be glimmering from the thrill of the near-miss. Her cheeks, which would be flushed from the shame of your early return home.

You sighed, pursing your lips and then undoing the knot of the ribbon holding together the bouquet of flowers in your hand. Pouring a cup of water into a crystal vase, you arranged the flowers carefully in it, making sure you did not prick your fingers on the thorny stems as you waited for your fiancé to come thundering down to greet you.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be home so early!” he said, leaping off the bottom stair and waltzing into the kitchen, discreetly wiping his hands against his pants.

“Hey, Ryosuke,” you said. “No worries. I was actually just about to head out again; I had thought I’d wash the sheets tonight, but I think we’re out of detergent, so I’m going to run to the store and grab some.”

“Ah, okay,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

“About an hour,” you said. “I think I’ll stop by Chigiri’s on the way back.”

“Chigiri’s?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What do you need from him?”

It was ironic. There the two of you were, both pretending like he wasn’t hiding a third in your bedroom, and yet you were the one who was facing his accusations, who was under suspicion for no other reason than because you wanted to visit your friend.

“I lent him our blender because his broke, remember?” you said. “I was going to see if he’s gotten a replacement yet or not.”

“I see,” he said, relaxing only slightly. “Well, don’t delay on my part, I guess. See you soon?”

“See you,” you said. “I’ll text you when I’m about ten minutes away. If you could warm up the leftovers in the fridge, I’d appreciate it. I’m a little hungry.”

“Of course,” he said. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you said. Once, he would’ve pressed a kiss to your cheek, or maybe even to your lips, but now, he only waved at you before bounding back up the stairs, calling out some excuse about folding his laundry over his shoulder. You watched him go for a moment, wishing you could chase after him and demand he love you again, demand he love you the way he used to, but it would be pointless. You were unconvinced that things would ever be that way again.

One of the lights in the store near your house was broken. It would flicker back to life periodically, struggling to stay lit, but its attempts were stuttered and pitifully in vain. It worsened the migraine building behind your temples, and you narrowed your eyes as you reached the laundry aisle and picked up the cheapest, smallest bottle of detergent you could find.

“You should get that light fixed,” you said to the cashier. He didn’t even look like he was out of high school yet, and as he scanned the bottle, he muttered something about how you should’ve just used the self-checkout line instead.

“I’ll tell my manager,” he said when it became clear that you were waiting for a response. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” you said, tapping it against the screen and signing your name with the attached stylus. “I don’t need a bag.”

“Have a nice day,” he said robotically, mechanically. “Next!”

The woman behind you, who was juggling a screaming baby, a whining child, and a week’s worth of groceries, began to try and empty her cart, but her child kept tugging at her arms and her baby kept crying and she kept dropping things, so it was altogether a pointless effort. The cashier let out an aggravated sigh, barely even sparing you a nod as you tucked the detergent in your pocket.

You furrowed your brow as you watched the woman, wondering if that was to be your future. Once you married Ryosuke, once you became Mrs. Kira, then wouldn’t children be the natural next step? Certainly, that’s what your parents would say.

“Hey,” you said to the child, tapping her on the head as she pulled on her mother’s sleeve once more. Upon feeling your touch against her hair, she froze, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I really like your hairstyle. Did you do it yourself?”

Her hair had been tied into two pigtails and then messily plaited, small pink bows decorating the end of each braid and matching her shirt. She peered at you owlishly, confused enough to quiet down for a moment. Her mother shot you a grateful look as her one hand was freed so that she could start to actually deal with her groceries.

“My mommy did it,” the girl said, stumbling over her words. “For school.”

“It’s very smart,” you said. “I bet everyone in your class was jealous.”

The girl thought about this before nodding. “Yeah, they were.”

“I’m glad I finished school already,” you said, pretending to shiver. “If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have known what to do if you showed up looking like that!”

“Did your mommy not do your hair for you?” the girl said. You thought back to your own mother, your own days at school, and then you shook your head.

“She tried,” you said. “But no matter how elaborate the hairstyles she gave me were, they could never measure up to what you have right now.”

“Why not?” she said.

“Because,” you said. “I think your mother worked really hard on them, and that’s the most important thing. You should remember to say thank you to her when you can.”

“I always say please and thank you,” she said proudly, beaming at you, her two front teeth missing. “Mommy says it’s good manners.”

“Those are very good manners,” you agreed. “Now, it looks like your mother’s done with checking out. Let’s go to the car with her, alright?”

The girl nodded and darted ahead to grab her mother’s hand. Her mother sighed, going to free her hand from her daughter’s grip, but you stopped her.

“I’ve got it,” you said, picking up her grocery bags in both hands and nodding at the door. “Which way is your car? I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh, you — you don’t have to!” she said, fumbling in the face of the offer. “I can do it.”

“I don’t doubt you can,” you said. “But you shouldn’t have to. I’ll follow after you.”

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision for the woman to trust a stranger, but there was a sort of bone-deep exhaustion burrowing into her that must’ve made her accept the offer. So she only nodded at you and began to stride towards her car, unlocking it and opening the trunk so that you could put the groceries in it while she buckled her children into their respective car seats.

When she was distracted, you snuck the laundry detergent into one of the bags. It wasn’t as if you needed it; you had just gotten some the other day, and that had been the brand you preferred, too. The entire outing had just been an excuse for you to leave the house for enough time that Ryosuke’s new girl of the week could sneak out, as if she had never been there in the first place.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said when you pressed the button to shut the trunk, stepping back and watching it slowly lower. “Er, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering her your hand. She accepted it, shaking it so furiously it was a wonder your arm did not fly off.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. They’re so exhausting to bring along, but I have no other choice. I know it must be so irritating to the other shoppers, but…” she trailed off in defeat, her head hanging low. “I really do have no other choice. My husband’s always busy, and we can’t quite afford a babysitter or a nanny or anything like that, so they’re always with me.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “You have the right to be there, too. I hope you can always find help when you need it.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “You, too.”

“Thanks!” you said, waving at her as you made your way to your own car, only allowing your smile to drop once you were far enough that she wouldn’t notice the way it had disappeared.

You spent the drive to Chigiri’s in silence, muting the radio and amusing yourself with watching the street lamps turn on as it grew progressively darker out, their orange glows piercing through the misty night like cheerful planets, so at odds with your glum mood.

Wouldn’t Ryosuke be like that? Because of that one chance encounter, you could envision your future so clearly. It would be exactly the life that that woman led. You would have those children that he and your parents had always wanted, and you would care for them, and all the while, he would run around and sleep with any girl he could get into his bed, his existence entirely unaffected even as yours had been wrecked.

“So,” Chigiri said, stirring a spoonful of honey into the tea he had prepared for himself, his right leg extended on the coffee table before him. “When’s your wedding with that peacock bastard, anyways?”

You took a sip of the tea he had so graciously made for you before responding, taking the moment to mull over what you’d say as the liquid scalded your tongue.

“Lately, it seems like that’s all anyone ever asks me,” you said.

“It’s a pretty typical question to ask someone who’s engaged,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said. “Well, I don’t know when it is. We haven’t picked a date or made any concrete plans yet.”

“Geez, what was the point of proposing, then?” he said.

“You’ll be the first to hear when it happens,” you said.

“Really? Not Reo?” he said. You considered this.

“The second to hear,” you amended. He pretended to scowl at you, though it was half-heartedly done.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Though, I guess it does kind of make sense. Nobody hates Kira as much as I do, so you’d probably want to share the news with someone a bit more supportive.”

“It’s about time you let old grudges die,” you said. Chigiri glanced at his right leg before shaking his head.

“No way,” he said. “I’ll never forgive him.”

“It wasn’t even his fault,” you said weakly, though you knew it was just another rendition of the same argument you and he had had so many times before, the same argument that the two of you would probably keep having until you both stopped being friends altogether.

It was bound to happen. There was no way that you could stay friends with Chigiri in any way that lasted. Not as you were currently. Not as who you would soon become. That kind of person didn’t deserve to be friends with someone like Chigiri, who was always so bright and gentle, who even now was frowning slightly because of you.

“Whatever,” he said. “I won’t bring it up at your wedding. That’s the best I can give you.”

You thought that you should probably smile or thank him, but the thought of your impending wedding caused a lump to form in your throat, and it was all you could do to swallow it back without tears forming in your eyes. You gulped down the tea, hissing when it burnt your mouth, glad for the tears which sprang to your eyes and disguised the moment of weakness.

“Sorry,” you said to Chigiri, who only snorted and handed you a napkin to dab at your lips with. “Speaking of which, do you think you’d be okay with wearing a dress and being one of my bridesmaids? I’m woefully lacking in the department.”

“No,” Chigiri said. “Please, make some friends. It’ll actually be embarrassing if you have no one on your side of the wedding.”

“Sorry, but some of us had better things to do in high school than socializing,” you said, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it in one hand and glared at you before chucking it back, full-force. It landed at your side, narrowly avoiding smashing into your face, and then it was your turn to glare at him.

“For your information, I also had better things to do, but somehow, I made time to get to know people,” he said.

“Oh, yeah? Name three of your friends,” you said. He opened his mouth, but you stopped him before he could speak. “Not me, not Reo, and not May.”

He closed his mouth. “Okay, you got me there. Maybe I was more focused on soccer than I realized…”

“Maybe,” you said, though your tea suddenly tasted sour at the mention of soccer.

“I’ll wear a dress if you’ll wear a suit and draw on a mustache at my wedding,” he offered.

“Um, no,” you said.

“Then I guess we’ll both be embarrassed,” he said.

“That’s even assuming you find someone you like enough to propose to, and that that person says yes,” you said.

“I will!” he said. “Just you wait. I’ll make you eat your words!”

“Whatever you say,” you said. “I still think you’re going to die alone, by the way.”

“Better than living with that excuse for a man that you plan on marrying,” he said.

Just like everything else regarding your relationship with Ryosuke, your protests were false and weak. You didn’t mean them. In fact, you even agreed with Chigiri, but if you didn’t speak up, then who would? If you didn’t say something, then all of the time you had spent with him would’ve been a waste. Everything would’ve been a waste, and that was something you could not allow.

“I’m back!” you called out as you re-entered the house, though you knew that even Ryosuke wasn’t foolish enough to risk being caught when he had had so many advance warnings and so much time to prepare for your arrival.

“There she is!” he said, grinning up at you from the dining table, not even a guilty twinge to his words as he spoke — not that you had been expecting any. “Your food’s on the counter, babe.”

“Looks good,” you said, picking up the plate and sitting across from him, picking at the pasta with a fork, pushing it around without lifting any, unable to bring yourself to actually eat it. “You didn’t have to cook, though. There was stuff in the fridge.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said. “Can’t I do nice things for my favorite girl every now and then?”

You knew what that clever wordplay implied. His favorite girl, but not his only. You supposed he must’ve been proud of it, of that private joke made for an audience of exactly one.

“I guess there’s no reason why you can’t,” you said. “It’s good.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Now, listen, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” you said, preparing yourself for him to say that he wanted to move again or that he wanted to get rid of your cat or something equally as preposterous, as he often did when he started his sentence off with that particular phrase. “And what about?”

“We’ve been engaged for a while,” he said.

“Yes,” you said cautiously, internally cursing Chigiri, believing that he must’ve spoken this entire conversation into existence with his playful inquiries from earlier.

“So we should probably pick a date for the wedding and start preparing for it and all, don’t you think?” he said.

No, you wanted to scream at him. No, I don’t think so. I don’t want to. Nothing has to change. Don’t let it change.

You were saved from having to answer by your cell phone ringing. Without apologizing, you picked up, because there were very few people who would ever call you, and almost all of them were more important than Ryosuke.

“Y/N L/N,” a familiar voice said. Every bit of despair which had crept over you vanished in an instant at that sound, and this time when you smiled, it wasn’t forced.

“Reo!” you said. Ryosuke frowned, but you ignored him. “How late is it over there?”

“It’s early, actually, but it’s okay. I was waking up to go to the gym, anyways, and I figured I’d call you while I’m at it,” he said.

“That makes sense. What’s up?” you said.

“Can’t I just have called you because I miss you so much?” he said.

“You could have, but you wouldn’t,” you said. “What’s the real reason?”

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“Mhm,” you said.

“Fine, yes, I was calling you for a reason, but I do also miss you a lot, so don’t think I don’t!” he said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said.

“You know how I proposed to May a couple of years ago?” he said.

“I was there,” you reminded him. “And by the way, you’re lucky I was! The whole reason I went to college abroad was so that I had an excuse to never return to that place, so for you to go back and live there has really been inconvenient.”

“I can’t help that this is where our corporation’s headquarters are,” he said awkwardly. “I kind of have to live here.” You scoffed.

“Whatever. I’m not going to visit again, so if that’s what you’re calling about, then you might as well hang up,” you said.

“Seriously? Nothing can convince you to come?” he said, letting out a chuckle, the cocksure one he had inherited from his father. It was the one thing you hated most about him, but he had never managed to break the habit, no matter how many times you pointed it out.

“Nope,” you said. “Nothing.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ryosuke said. You waved him off dismissively, mouthing tell you later at him when he pouted grumpily.

“Not even your own best friend’s wedding?” he pressed. You paused, taken aback by the sudden turn.

“What?” you squealed. “Like, an official wedding? You have the day picked out and all?”

“Calm down, woman, it’s not that serious,” he said. You could hear his wince through the phone, but you were too excited to care.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you said.

“So, funny thing, that’s actually what I’m doing right now,” he said. You clicked your tongue.

“Shut up,” you said. “I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. It feels like just yesterday I was introducing the two of you.”

“I know,” he said fondly. “We’ve been arguing the whole time about whose side of the wedding party you’ll be on. At the moment, I think I’m winning, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

“You guys just assumed I would come?” you said.

“Will you not?” he said. You glanced at Ryosuke, who raised his eyebrows at you.

“Give me a second,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” he said. You put the phone on mute and set it on the table.

“Reo and May are getting married,” you said. “Soon. They want me to come.”

“Of course they would. You’re best friends with both of them,” Ryosuke said. You waited for him to reassure you, to tell you that he knew it would be hard for you to go back to your hometown but that the two of you could get through it together. However, he didn’t. You weren’t even sure why you had waited in the first place. You had known that he wasn’t that person anymore for a very long time now. Maybe it was just an old habit that you couldn’t let die quite yet. Maybe you would always be waiting for him.

“I should go, then,” you said.

“Obviously,” he said. “And I’ll come this time.”

“Naturally,” you said, because it would raise too many questions if you didn’t bring your fiancé to your best friend’s wedding. It had been bad enough when he hadn’t come with you the last time, but you had managed to soothe everyone’s concerns with stories about work being too much, how he would’ve loved to visit but had such a strict boss that he just couldn’t.

As per usual, those had all been lies. You had been the one to demand he stay back. You didn’t tell him the reason, because it hardly made sense to you, but the truth was that the thought of Ryosuke walking through the streets that had once belonged to someone else was counterintuitive. Wrong. Those steps were not his to make. That secret was not his to tarnish.

“What’s the verdict?” Reo said when you unmuted the phone and held it back up to your ear. Ryosuke leaned over and gathered your dishes, taking them with his own and turning on the sink, running them under the water, drowning out the sound of your voice.

“Don’t ask that as if you don’t know the answer, idiot,” you said. “It seems you got lucky once again. I’ll be there, and so will Ryosuke.”

Reo choked audibly. “Ryosuke? Do you mean Kira?”

“We’ve been engaged longer than you and May have. Don’t you think it would be a little weird if I still called him by his surname?” you said.

“That’s true. I was just surprised you’re still with him, but I shouldn’t have been. Sorry,” he said. “Is he going to be your plus one?”

“Again, he is my fiancé,” you said, glancing over to where he was humming to himself as he scrubbed the sauce off of the plates. Your heart panged at the sight. Sometimes, you thought that you were being unfair to him. You would hate and hate him, and then he would do something that would remind you why you had ever loved him in the first place. “Who else would I bring?”

“I don’t know, Chigiri?” he said. “You talk about him way more than you do Kira.”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “I just spend more time with him.”

“Hey, it’s not my business. If you want to have an affair, then that’s your prerogative. Although, given the history between those two, Chigiri might not be the best choice…” he said.

“You suck,” you said as he burst into laughter.

“Kidding, kidding. Anyways, May beat me to inviting Chigiri, so he couldn’t be your plus one regardless, since he’s a traitor,” he said.

“Who says I won’t decide to be on May’s side after all?” you said. “She’d probably make me her maid of honor.”

“Uh,” Reo said. “If that’s the case, then you should definitely be on my side.”

“Why is that?” you said.

“I mean, you know how the maid of honor and the best man usually spend a lot of time together?” he said nervously.

“Sure,” you said, although you really didn’t, considering you hadn’t been invited to very many weddings before, and certainly none where you had been the maid of honor.

“Well, there’s no gentle way to put this,” he said.

“Just spit it out,” you said.

“Um, just know that I really love you a lot,” he said. “But I already picked my best man.”

“How is that something you’d need to put gently? Considering my lack of ‘man’ qualifications, I wasn’t exactly expecting to get the role,” you said.

“It’s Nagi.”

Unbidden, your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your initial burst of shock quickly settled, and you realized it made enough sense that you shouldn’t really question it. “Okay.”

“I know you guys didn’t get along in high school and all, but he was the only one I could think of,” Reo said.

“Okay,” you said.

“But you’re my best friend, too, and don’t you dare forget that!” he continued.

“Reo,” you said, but he was too busy rambling to notice.

“Just please get along with him. For my sake! And May’s, if you decide to be her maid of honor,” he said.

“Reo,” you tried again.

“You don’t even have to be friends! Just mutually ignore one another or something, it’ll go much smoother that way. Or, well, if you’re the maid of honor and he’s the best man, I guess you can’t really ignore one another, so that’s a dilemma…wait, I know! You can treat him like he’s just one of your coworkers—”

“Reo!” you said, finally growing frustrated enough to cut him off. “It’s okay. High school was years ago. Neither of us is going to let the past impact the present, I’m sure. You have more important things to be stressing out about; this shouldn’t even be on your list of worries, man. You’re getting married!”

“You promise?” he said.

“Promise,” you said.

“I’m serious. I don’t want any fights or anything. Whatever hatred you had for him, put it behind you,” he said.

“I did that already,” you said. “Many years past. I’m not a teenage girl anymore. People from back then don’t bother me.”

“Not even your parents?” he said.

“Low blow, Mr. Mikage,” you said. But of course, he didn’t even know the half of it, so how could you blame him for what he had surely believed to be a harmless joke? “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them in a while, either.”

“Have they even met Kira yet?” he said.

“No,” you said.

“Great, then you can introduce him to them! It’ll be a double-win type of trip,” he said.

“Right,” you said. He sounded so happy that you couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, that the thought of introducing Ryosuke to your parents was actually akin to torture. Besides, what would he do if you did tell him? It was something he could never comprehend.

“Now I can’t wait!” he said.

“Me, either,” you said. “And Reo?”

“Yes?”

“Tell May I’m choosing her side,” you said.

“What? You seriously want to risk possibly being the maid of honor, even after everything I told you?” he said.

You thought about what the role might entail. Who the role might entail. And then you looked over at Ryosuke, who was putting the leftover pasta back in the fridge. He locked eyes with you and then jokingly scrunched his nose. You thought you might’ve found it endearing when you had first met him.

“Yeah,” you said. “I do.”

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #peregrine #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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samgirl98 · 1 day

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Mending a Family 37/?

Prev | Next

Happy Death Day, Jason! Have some suffering

The snow was finally thawing, and it was getting warmer. (Winter lasted longer up north.) Though cold and miserable sometimes, Jason felt better as the days lasted longer. Things were looking up.

Then April 27th hit.

The day hit him like a wrecking ball. It’s not as if he had completely forgotten about the day he got murdered, but it had fallen on the back burner as he spent the days with his new family and practiced his new powers.

His body was lethargic when he woke up that morning. Jason could barely move. He felt his bones grinding against each other. He felt as if they were breaking like…like that day as that monster beat him with a crowbar. The only thing that would distract him from the feel of broken bones was the licking of an explosion on his skin, the feel of lack of oxygen in his lungs…

Jason heard the door to his room opening. He couldn’t turn his head; it felt too heavy.

“Daddy,” a small voice said, “are you okay?”

Jason wished he could reassure Danny.

I’m fine, chum, he wanted to say. Daddy’s just feeling a little under the weather—nothing to worry about.

Jason could hardly blink away the tears falling down his cheek.

He lost track of time after that. When he came to again, the pain of broken bones had dissipated, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. His lungs were full of smoke, his throat burned, and the tears felt good on his hot skin.

A cool weight on his arm helped bring him back a little. He suddenly noticed a red blob above him. As Jason’s eyesight cleared, he saw Jazz’s worried face. In her hand was a thermos.

“Hey, Jay. I won’t ask how you’re feeling, but the ecto in this thermos will help you feel better. Think you’ll be able to swallow?”

Jason’s throat burned worse at the thought of swallowing.

Jazz didn’t wait for an answer; she picked up Jason’s head and put it on her shoulder. She opened the thermos and poured a glowing, green liquid that reminded him of Lazarus' water into the thermos cup. She put the cup to Jason’s lips and dribbled some into barely parted lips.

She rubbed her fingers to Jason’s throat to encourage the citrusy-tasting liquid to go down.

After finishing the drink, Jason felt a little more alert. It was both a blessing and a curse. He could recognize Danny’s weight on his arm and hear Jazz’s calm breathing, but he was more aware of his feelings and the sensations he felt when he had died.

“Danny’s first death day was terrible, too. This is the first time you’ve experienced your death anniversary as a full halfa. Don’t worry; Danny’s second one was better. This time, his third one showed almost no symptoms. From what I could tell, he was just a bit tired.”

“Following that logic, your next one should be less bad. Danny told me the first time it felt as if he was relieving his death over and over again. I’m sorry you’re going through that, Jay. We should’ve explained this was going to happen to prepare you a little. I completely forgot, though.”

Jason could infer what a ‘death day’ was, but he still opened his mouth to ask.

“Shh, rest, big brother. You need your strength. Danny and I will explain later. I’ll be here to watch over you. Sleep.”

Jason couldn’t help but close his eyes. He felt comforted by his little family.

As the feeling of fire left his skin and he could breathe easier, Jason fell into a deep, dark oblivion he welcomed with open arms.

____

Red Robin and Robin flinched as Batman’s fist crunched under the goon’s face.

They both knew it wasn’t Batman who had been injured.

Red Robin had decided to patrol with Robin and Batman. He knew the date, coupled with Jason’s disappearance, would negatively affect Batman’s judgment. It was his job to keep Batman in line.

“Batman,” Red Robin called out as he hit the man’s face for the third time, “that’s enough. He’s unconscious.”

“Hn,” Batman dropped the man and handcuffed him. The man’s head lolled to the side.

Batman deployed his grappling gun and disappeared into the air.

“Was he this bad when Todd first died?”

Tim stared into the darkness his father had disappeared into.

“Worse,” he said before going after Batman.

Robin stared at the beaten goon for a second, contemplating. Then, he, too, followed his father. Todd needed to come home soon.

So, good news, I haven't updated not because of my depression or illnesses but because I moved from a little apartment we had been living in since I was a child into a house and also because I have a new job that I love!

Anyway hoped you liked this chapter.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#mending a family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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rebecca--barnes · 6 months

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Sylvie without Loki Mobius without Loki

#one is happy and ready to live their life #and the other is completely miserable and lost #Loki #mobius #Lokius #sylvie #Loki season 2 #loki season 2 spoilers #loki episode 6 spoilers

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sophiethewitch1 · 7 days

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www!reader WILL call batman a pussy for not killing on her private twitter. she does it like every other day. its cathartic

#sophie speaks #series:www #all of the batfam: i have a very complicated relationship with the idea of killing as i follow a code that i know has caused thousands of-#lost lives and hurt people. but i still follow it because i know its the right thing to do #reader and jason: what like a baby???#i actually wrote www!reader to reflect all of the guys like... worst traits #shes obsessive like tim ignores her problems like dick is completely consumed by vengeance like jason and just generally petty like damian #hand in unlovable hand #and you havent seen readers more petty side yet but believe me you WILL #her and damians interactions always crack me up because they're just so.#genuinely miserable around each other but both too stubborn to concede any ground #damian: i think ur here to cause trouble and steal things #reader: i am literally working at a soup kitchen. ur only allowed to bitch if u help #which of course he does hes a good boy but the soup kitchen definitely has a weird vibe when the two of them are around #u dont have to worry about ur own problems look at these two obviously emotionally incompetent people bickering with eachother #anyways what was i saying

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puhpandas · 7 months

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Watch

(2,984 words)

Gregory dies saving the Pizzaplex from the virus. In return, Evan saves Gregory by giving him the gift of life. Evan is done with just watching. (warnings: major character (child) death (gregory), implied murder, implied stabbing, blood.

Evan had to go fight his Father on his own.

Vanessa had been too incapacitated. Too distraught to come along. She'd woken up not too long after Gregory had freed her, hair greasy and wirey and body weak, knees wobbly. It had only gotten worse after she'd seen the cost.

Theres nothing Evan could have helped with. All he could do is finish things.

His Father had gone down easily. Theres not much you can do as an animatronic on the brink of collapse, no matter how much of your virus is spread across the network. No matter how many brute machines you have at your command. Its hard to kill somebody whose already dead. To hurt somebody who isnt tangible.

All Evan had to do was call in a favor.

The amalgamation hadn't needed any more than a promise. It had thrown itself at his Father, giving itself up to secure that his Father is gone forever. For good.

Evan had promised to set the fire. He knows that Freddy has a lighter in his finger. He knows that his Father is stuck, and is at Evan's will.

Evan has the power to take the call, here. He can set the fire whenever he wants. He gets to choose when it all ends.

He hasn't, yet. He just needs to see Gregory again.

Vanessa has barely moved by the time Evan phases through floors, arriving back in Vannys old hideout. Shes sitting up, but unmoving. Before, her shoulders shook harshly with barely contained grief.

Now, it's like shes empty. Like there's nothing left of her.

After what was lost to free her, Evan understands why.

He can barely look, once he floats next to Vanessa. Gregory is right where Evan had left him, still laid flat on the linoleum tile under Vanessa's hunched form.

Shes almost curled around him, as if to protect him. He cant be protected much, anymore. But he deserves to have whats left of him taken care of.

It hurts so much more than the others when Evan forces himself to look. Nothings changed; Gregory is still unmoving, eyes open and unseeing. The knife is discarded to their left, tossed in some corner to rot.

The floor is a mess. Gregorys blood stains every crevice. His blue shirt is barely recognizable, violent rips and tears litter the area near his stomach, and blood stains the fabric a sickening black.

Evan stares at his face. It doesnt so much as twitch.

He knows better than to beg. He knows better than to hope, or plead, or wish.

He's dead. Evan knows. He's known this whole time. He knew when he'd gone off to fight his Father. To get revenge.

Gregory's dead.

It hurts so much more than the others.

Evan floats downwards, sitting by Gregory's body next to Vanessa as much as he can as a ghost. She doesn't seem to register that hes there, just staring blankly at Gregory. At the empty husk of the boy Evan had just begun to know.

Shes already expressed her grief. She'd yelled and screamed and sobbed when he'd still been alive, clinging to life by a thread, but despite Vanessa's attempts, he'd died in her arms.

They'd only shared little words before it was over.

They'd watched as the life left his eyes. Evan watched as Gregory went still in that way only dead people can. He'd watched as Vanessa fell apart.

It hurt so much more than the others.

He'd just been getting to know Gregory. He'd only scraped the surface. He'd only known Gregory for six hours, but he'd felt like he'd known him for a lifetime.

He'd just been getting to know him, and Evan had been planning to stick around. He'd been planning to follow Gregory. He'd been planning to take the one child who'd been brave enough, smart enough, to survive, and lead him to the source.

Hed been planning on finally doing something. He'd been planning on ending it all, and saving one child out of it. He'd been planning on being done with watching, and doing something about it. He'd tried to help the others, to guide them where it mattered, help them survive, but they'd been snuffed out before they could begin.

And all Evan could do is watch.

He's so tired of just watching.

"Gr-- Gree-- Gregory..." Freddys voice filters out of the watch, crackling and glitching. "Gregor-- ory-- Please tell me you are saf-- fe. I cannot re-- each you--"

Something snaps in Evan, at that. Freddy doesn't know. Freddy had tried so hard, like Evan had, to save someone. To save one person after so many were lost.

Evan has seen Freddy. Hes seen them all. Hes seen how they all wake up the next day horrified at the blood under their claws, and the memories of murdering burned into their code. Evan has seen how all Freddy's been able to do is watch as he's hijacked, unable to fight back, and forced to sit backseat in his own body.

This time had been different. Freddy had been spared. Freddy had fought for Gregory. Freddy didnt just watch this time.

Evan doesnt want to just watch anymore.

Evan's stomach burns, normally, his soul is cold, as lifeless ghosts are. Just a figment of who he used to be.

So unlike the chill hes used too, how unfeeling he usually is, warmth bursts in his stomach, at hot as fire, and it swirls. Unfurling and spreading.

It tingles, prickling and sharp, and to Evan, somehow, it feels like an invitation.

Evan had been the first. He'd been there for it all. He'd been there when Charlie had died. He'd been there when she had given life to the other children. He'd been there when they'd all lost their humanity. He'd been there for the first fire, the second, and soon, the third.

Evan had been the first.

His chest burns with intensity, hot and bubbling.

Gregory will be the last.

He welcomes it; the simmering feeling underneath the film of numbness. It claws to escape, and Evan let's it.

He curls inward, a burst of light shining from his body, and at its warmth, it's like Vanessa comes back to life. She jerks when a glow spreads across the room, twisting her neck to watch it with wide eyes.

He cups his hands gently, shutting his eyes and reaching inward.

The Remnant responds to him. It hears him. It hears his grief, his wishes, and his determination.

Like the others, Gregory never deserved to die. Like the others, he'd been lost to his Father. Like the others, he'd been lost to a long string of tragedy that began on the day Evan died.

His chest opens, a yellow, pinprick of light seeping out and into his hands.

Unlike the others, Gregory will be the last.

Evan holds the remnant gently as can be, and ignores the blatant emptiness inside of him. He ignores how much weaker he feels. He ignores how he essentially just halved his life force.

Instead, he offers the life to Gregory's body, like giving a gift.

It receives it.

The light seeps into Gregory's body, spreading across his injuries and soaking in. Light crawls across his skin, spiderwebbing and stitching skin and flesh together.

The light mends Gregory's body, fixing what had been broken.

Evan never thought that anything involved with his Father could be good. That it could help instead of hurt.

But when Vanessas lights up as Gregory's eyes ignite with life, all gifted by the warmth in Evan's soul, he thinks it's not the magic that's bad, but the man who wields it.

Its agonizing; waiting those few seconds for Gregory to wake up, but the shine that had re-entered his eyes only grows brighter when he gasps harshly, jerking to life.

With a cry of joy, Evan shoots forward, attempting a hug as much as he can as a ghost. At the same time, Vanessa sobs with barely contained relief and reaches out, pulling Gregory out of the puddle of his own blood and setting him gently against her chest.

Evan meets his eyes, and man, do they look exhausted, but they also look alive. Evan cant contain the grin on his face when Gregory's eyes dart to him, seeing but not. Hes still in that stage between floaty and aware, but Evan waits for him.

It only takes a moment for Gregory himself to understand, but then hes clutching back, breaths deep, life laced within every intake of air.

Vanessa is crying. Shoulder shaking sobs that leave tracks down the dirt and blood on her face, and snot smudged across her cheek.

He doesnt blame her. Evan feels more alive than he has in a long time.

"You--" Gregory rasps out before coughing, but despite the fact, it's the most beautiful sound Evan's heard in years. Compared to the last words Gregory spoke before now being goodbyes. "You saved me."

Evan knows that Gregory knows. He knows everything. When Evan shared a piece of himself with Gregory, it connected them. Their souls are entertwined, now.

Evan feels the remnants of true fear deep inside Gregory of truly dying. He feels the relief that its over. He feels the accomplishment that nobody else will be lost.

Evan knows Gregory knows his feelings, as well. Evan knows Gregory feels the grief for the others. He knows he feels the satisfaction of sending his Father back to Cassidy. He knows he feels the anger at being forced to observe for so long.

So Evan just nods, the permanent tears on his face growing thicker and inkier. "I did."

And it's as simple as that.

Gregorys tucked under Vanessa's chin, her stringy hair falling out of what used to be a ponytail. Shes still sobbing, and Evan doesnt think she'd be able to do much of anything right now.

That's okay. Evan knows Vanessa had cried for the others, too. He knows Vanessa had been horrified at the memories. He knows shed been lost for years.

"You're you?" Gregory asks, weak and thready. He brings up a shaky hand and sets it on Vanessa's arm. Shes still wearing the bunny suit; she hadn't had it in her to tear it off when the only thing shed been focused on was the kid who saved her dying in her arms.

All Vanessa does is nod, over and over, almost deliriously. "Yes--" She sobs. "Because-- Because of you."

And its right there that Evan let's himself relish in the fact that they're all here. After watching so much grief and tragedy take place, its finally over. Gregory saved them, and now Evan was able to save Gregory.

He laughs in delight, feeling more hope and warmth than he has in a long time.

Three victims sit in a circle, relieved and alive.

"Gr-r--" Gregory's watch sputters to life, staticky and warbling. "Gregory-- I'm so worried about yo-- you-- P-P-Please respo--"

Three sets of eyes blow open.

"Freddy!"

👻

Gregory and Evan had been alone together all night. Freddy wasnt able to follow them everywhere, and Gregory, with that determination that saved them that night, carried them far. Deep into the belly of the beast.

But its only when they finally haul themselves up when the clock gets a little too close to six, hop in Vanessa's car, and hightail it to her apartment that Gregory and Evan are alone again.

Vanessa, with a little more energy in her step, had followed through with her promise. Before they'd left, she said she would set the fire. All she wanted to do is take care of a few things. Freddy went along with her, wanting to collect his friends when they wake up free of the virus.

It's just the two of them, now. They're sitting (floating, in Evan's case) on Vanessa's couch, Gregory is eating some cereal, since its all Vanessa had on hand, and hes wearing one of Vanessa's too-big shirts when his had been too ruined to keep.

Theres some cartoon on the TV about a girl and a weird blue floating blob, but Evan isnt paying attention. Not when Gregory is staring at his bowl with furrowed brows, lost in thought.

Evan can tell he wants to say something, so he just sits patiently, and stays quiet when Gregory eventually starts opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the words.

"Evan--" Gregory begins eventually, and when Evan looks over, Gregory's looking at the carpet instead of him. "Um... can I ask you something?"

Evan nods. "Of course."

"Kay." Gregory responds, and then sighs, scratching the back of his neck and fiddling with the fold of fabric where his stomach is. "Uh... well..."

Evan stays silent, waiting for Gregory to gather his thoughts. Evan had hated it when people rushed him when he spoke while he was alive. He wasnt stupid, just nervous.

Eventually, Gregory throws his hands down and huffs, as if biting the bullet. He turns to Evan, looking him in the eyes as he asks, "Why did you save me?"

Evan blinks, and looks at Gregory, confused. They'd already communicated everything when Gregory woke up. "What do you mean?"

Gregory fidgets again, glancing to the side and looking frustrated. "Well-- I mean... just, why did you choose me?"

Evan furrows his brows. "Um... I dont understand."

Gregory growls, but Evan can sense it's not at him, just at Gregory's own scrambled thoughts. He rubs at his eyes, before, "I mean--!. eight other kids went missing before me."

Evan starts to get it. "Oh."

"Just... why did you save me?" Gregory asks again, a little more surely this time. "Like... you literally gave up half of your life force just so I wouldnt die. You met so many other kids that didnt make it... I... just want to know why you see me as so special to sacrifice for."

Evan shakes his head, twisting in place to better face Gregory. He tries to convey so much in one motion, his brain swirling with thoughts, and remnants of feeling from past memories.

"Gregory..." Evan glances downward, an old feeling of grief coming back. It's his old friend at this point. "...Nobody deserved to die. Nobody. But... in a way, some of us didnt. I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'm technically living, arent I?"

Gregory nods, but he looks confused. "Yeah, I would say so. But what does this have to do with what I said?"

Evan looks at the couch, watching as his fingers phase through the cushion. "I mean... the others, they died, but they didnt leave. They were still there, but... they weren't living. Bit by bit, they lost themselves, until they really were as good as dead."

Gregory is silent, so Evan continues. "I didnt feel like I was living for a long time, even though I technically wasnt dead. I had my friend. That's what we had that the others didnt. That's how we held on. But when she left... I had to stay for her to, as well, and I was stuck. I couldn't see my family. I was living, but I didnt want to be. I was living, but didnt have a life."

Evan glances up, and sees Gregory's own face looking back at him, eyes sad. Evan frowns, feeling decades of memories creep back up on him. He shoves them down. "All I did was watch tragedy and death occur for years, while I was alone. And I couldnt do a thing about it."

"You were done just watching." Gregory mumbles.

Evan nods. "...I was. So when you came along, and you survived, and dodged death, and saved everybody... you didnt deserve to die. More than the others. After all youd done, you deserved to live."

Theres a stretch of silence, after that. Evan has patience to spare, so when Gregory just stares, probably turning Evan's words over in his head, he waits.

After a while, Gregory tries to set a hand on Evan's shoulder, but it phases through. Gregory frowns, eyes downcast as he stares at his body dissipating at Gregory's touch, falling away like sand. "You havent felt alive in a long time, huh...?"

Theres that connection, again. Evan's gonna have to get used to this; he hasnt been connected to someone this way since Cassidy.

He nods, but in the melancholy, he smiles, and looks pointedly at Gregory. "Yeah," He agrees. "but that changed."

Gregory understands quickly. Evan pushed all of his feelings and earnesty towards that seemingly now permanent sense of Gregory presence, after all. He looks suprised, if his wide eyes are any indication, but then he finally sees the undeniable smile on Evans face, and Evan can sense that Gregory believes him.

Tears swim in Gregory's eyes, and he wipes at them half heartedly, grin on his face. He chuckles wetly. "Would you believe me if I said nobody has ever said something like that to me?"

Evan fractures, smiling. "Not really. I doubt you've met a lot of other dead people."

"Youd be right." Gregory replies. "Man, I wish I could hug you. It doesnt feel right just letting you sit there and be all... ghosty after saying something like that."

Evan chuckles at that, smile wide. "Put your arms around me."

Gregory raises a brow, but does it anyway.

It's funny. How Gregory, a boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time saved the ones at the heart of the tragedy. He saved everyone without being involved himself, and Evan cant help but feel like Gregory saved him as well, in a way.

And Evan, who shuts his eyes and brings forth every ounce of power he has as a poltergeist, let's his body fall against another solid one, and sink into the hug.

ao3 link

#i kinda just wanted to explore evans character.#he isnt present in the day of security breach (he finally got some rest thank god)#but i imagine it would be even more miserable than before.#before #he had cassidy after a few years of being completely alone #but he had to watch the others become like animals #save for charlie.#now #he knows his family is dead #and that theyre waiting for him. but he has to stay tethered to the real world because of cassidy #shes determined to keep afton in hell #but when glitchtrap was created (its what we thought before ruin. w glitchtrap being afton but not actually him) he rained hell upon the pi #and hes forced to stay miserable and away from his family for her. plus he has to watch other children die without being able to do anythin #i just think it would be really awful. hes lost his tether #he probably felt empty for a long time. years and years. but then gregory comes along and he has somebody again :)#imagine 3 star fam happens as normal but now with evan!#he and gregory are soul bonded now and basically brothers lol. remnant brothers. golden duo just became golden triplets #flashlight duo #my fics #pandas writes #gregory and evan #evan afton #fnaf gregory #fnaf fic #blood warning #death warning #knife warning #stabbing warning #stabbing mention #implied death

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