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disasterfandoms · 3 years

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Meet My Dad || A Brock Reynolds x Carter!Reader Imagine

A/N: SO we were brainstomring in one of my discord groups about what would it be like if Full Metal had a daughter, and now it’s a thing where if i write this for @theysayitscrazy then @bravo-four-seal-team has to behave for a week. Also, this contains the ship Trent/Metal.

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TW: a tiny bit of smut (no nudity or graphic depictions), protective parent, murder threats

Taglist: @milfdeacon @bravo-four-seal-team @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @velvetcardiganbucky @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @mrsmarvelous1995 @madhare0512 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @iris-oaklee-carter-911oc @kobababy @i-love-scott-mccall @pinkrockstar19 @supervalcsi @itsonautopilot @abby-splace @innerpaperexpertcloud @softi92 @thelovelyleo23 @jasonbabymama @peaches-1999

“Dad!” You yelled, walking into his house uninvited as usual. Did you really need an invite to the place you called home for the longest time, though? He wasn’t there, that was evident by his cat, Whiskers, still needing to be fed for the morning. You filled his bowl with kibble, petting the old boy who used to keep you company on dark and stormy nights.

You walk further into his kitchen, seeing the note on the counter that said that he’d be back later. You write a note back, telling him that you’ll be at your boyfriends, and to call you later. You pet the cat once more, before leaving the home, suddenly nervous at the thought of your dad knowing about you and Brock, and your plan for them to meet.

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Full Metal came home a couple hours later, petting Whiskers and putting the groceries away. You and him had a weekly gumbo night, where you all eat and either watch a movie or play some games, getting your time with each other you two needed in in one night.

He’s been a single dad for over twenty years, your mom having left him and you when you were just three years old. He bared no hard feelings, his life and job was complicated and she never truly wanted to be a mom. So, he took time to figure out how to parent you while being home all the time, and figured who’d watch you when he was away. You two made it work, and now you’re closer than ever.

He found the note, noticing your handwriting right away, and visibly paled as he read its contents. A boyfriend? Who? and when? He could have sworn you would have told him before now about any boy you were seeing. He needed to take a breath, calm down. You were a grown adult, with an apartment of your own and a stable job, it wasn’t the end of the world that his baby had a boyfriend.

He took a second, making sure his hands stopped shaking before he picked up the phone, dialing the oh-so-familiar number.

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You were straddling Brock’s lap, your tongues colliding as you moved in sync. His lips had then attached to your neck, causing you to moan. Your hands were tangled into his hair, causing him to groan when you pulled it accidentally. His hands travelled down your back, resting just before the opening of your jeans. One hand slid up your shirt, his hands feeling rough against your soft skin, you giggling as he flipped you over, so he was on top.

He opened your legs, putting his knee right next to your covered core, letting you grind against it as he continued his trail of kisses down your chest. He almost took his shirt off when you heard your phone ring, interrupting the fun that was about to come. You quickly grabbed it, groaning as it was your dad. Brock nodded in understanding, moving to lay beside you on the bed as you answered, “Hi Dad!”

“Y/N, you left a note. Boyfriend? Who the fuck are you dating? Why haven’t you told me about this guy beforehand?” Metal shot off at an impressive pace, not impressed that she told him this through a note, for fucks sake.

“I’m great! How are you, are we on for gumbo tonight? I brought him up because I thought about bringing him.” You said sarcastically, moving to snuggle up to Brock, who happily wrapped his arms around you, his leg intertwining with yours.

Metal was pacing in his living room now, rolling his eyes at the sarcasm he heard at the beginning of your response. “You want to bring him? To our tradition?” He asked, shocked you’d even consider it.

“Well, yeah, Dad, it’s just one gumbo night for you to meet him and get to know him outside of work. Besides, you bring Trent sometimes!” You retorted, huffing at the hypocrisy. You could hear Brock chuckling beside you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

“That’s different, it’s Trent!” He shot back, stopping his pacing as he was worried he was going to step on Whiskers. He then continued, “Trent’s being invited if you bring him. Wait,” he spoke, his mind registering what all you said thirty seconds ago, “Outside of work? HE WORKS AT DEVGRU?!?!?” He yelled, feeling his face getting hot with anger. One of those idiots is dating his kid?

You put the phone away from your ear, he’s always deafening when he’s angry. Brock kissed your shoulder, one of his hands moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yes, he works at DEVGRU. He’s on Bravo, with Trent. Invite him! You know I love T,” you say easily, your breath hitching as Brock continues to tease you.

Metal doesn’t even know what to reply to that. He’s full on having a meltdown. His kid, his sweet, caring, loving child is dating someone in Bravo. Oh, Oh god, They’re dating that cocky ass kid. “I gotta go, see you two tonight.” He said quickly, before hanging up without you getting a word in. He rubbed his face with his free hand, before calling Trent to come over.

“He hung up,” you said simply, putting the phone back down on the nightstand, before focusing on the man beside you. You adored him, not just physically, but the kind soul he has, and the willingness to do whatever was necessary to keep you safe and happy. You knew your Dad was a bit... much, but you hoped once he saw you two together, he would calm a bit. “Now, where were we..” you trailed off, giggling as he turned over onto you, starting where you both had left off.

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Trent was a little worried when Full Metal called him, panicking at the apparent fact that Clay was dating his kid. Trent had been around you since you were a little kid, becoming very close to Metal as they started working together at DEVGRU.

He was incredibly amused at the fact that Metal was having a meltdown while simultaneously starting the gumbo for the night. He wouldn’t interrupt the man, he’s just here to listen and watch his friend chop and cook everything the gumbo needed ingredient wise, while yelling at how Clay was too arrogant foe his own good.

“Of course Y/N would go out with him. Why go for one of us, anyways?” he asked rhetorically, chopping up the andouille sausage, probably imagining it was Clay’s.. well... you know.

“Because they were raised by you? And surrounded by a Naval influence their entire life?” Trent shot back, chuckling as Metal glared at him. Man, if looks could kill...

“Scott, take a breath. You raised Y/N well, they must see something in Clay to not only go out with them, but to want to introduce him to you,” Trent tried to reassure the man, who this time took a deeply breath and nodded.

“I just don’t want them to get hurt,” he spoke quietly, shaking his head at the thought. You were his child, his only one at that, he hated seeing you cry, especially over some dumb ass kid.

Trent nodded, standing up to go over to him, rubbing his back. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. He’s helped Scott raise you since you were a kid, he felt similarly about keeping you safe.

They were silent for a while, before Trent felt like he needed to reassure Scott one more time. “Tonight will be fine, you’ll meet the boyfriend, be polite tonight and then tomorrow you can threaten all you want,” he offered up, and it worked, as he saw Scott smile for the first time today.

“Come tonight?” Metal asked, he didn’t want to have to deal with this alone. Plus, he could just have it on his head that this is just the team hanging out and you just so happened to be there.

Trent nodded, smiling at the offer. He knew Scott needed someone here with them to keep him calm, and he was secretly hoping he’d ask him to stay anyways, the guy makes a mean gumbo.

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It was three hours later, and Brock was suddenly incredibly nervous. He knew Metal was going to kill him, especially because it was his only kid that we’re talking about. He was in love with them, though, so he guessed he’d make it work.

“It’s going to be fine, Dad’s just a big teddy bear,” you reassure him, watching him chuckle nervously. You smiled, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Your boyfriend may be a man of few words, but it was no secret he was worried about your dad’s reaction.

The silence was comfortable as he drove you both towards your childhood home. He was quiet, taking in the site of the place where Metal raised you, squeezing your hand when he heard you take a shaky breath.

“Hey,” he said quietly, catching your attention as you were getting lost in your worries. “I love you, Y/N/N.”

You smile brightly, saying “I love you too,” before he pulls you in for a kiss, all and full of adoration. He breaks away for a few moments, kissing your nose in the process, causing you to giggle.

You lead him up the steps to the front door, noting that Trent’s bike was in it’s usual spot. You smiled a little, happy your dad’s boyfriend was here to enjoy the chaos. You whispered to Brock, “I told you my dad and Trent were together, right?”

Brock’s eyes widened, shaking his head. Oh, this was going to be fun, he thought, before taking a deep breath. You smile at him, before opening the door, going into your family home, which was warm and the smell of the spices in the gumbo. You picked up Whiskers, who was hanging out in the cat tree by the entryway, and said to Brock, “This is Mr. Whiskers, he used to keep me safe when it was storming and Dad was on a mission.”

Brock saw the way your eyes lit up with you saw the cat, and his heart melted a little bit. He pet the furry creature, personally he wasn’t a fan of cats but he couldn’t help but pet him.

You put him down, taking his hand as you guide him further into the home, yelling, “T, Dad! We’re here!” You give his hand a squeeze, bringing him to the living room.

Trent came out from the living room, smiling as he saw you with... Brock. “Hey kid,” he hugged you tightly, before finally breaking, laughing hysterically at the fact that it was Brock you were with.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Metal left the kitchen, hearing his boyfriend of five years laughing hysterically. He walks in, seeing Trent doubled over in laughter, looking at you, smiling. “Hey baby,” He spoke softly, opening his arms for a hug, looking at who she brought with her, completely expect Clay, and not... Brock?

“Brock? Dog boy? Seriously?” He asked, causing Brock to laugh a little bit.

You backed away from your Dad, going to your boyfriend, who immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You shot back, “Well, yeah? Who else would I have gone for, Sonny?”

Oh, yeah, that broke Metal.

He just stared at you two, trying to form words, but his brain was short-circuiting. Trent was in tears, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “Didn’t.... see that...coming,” he finally got out, grabbing onto Metal’s shoulder yo hold him up.

“I thought you were dating Clay,” your dad said slowly, shaking his head at the fact you brought the weird one home... typical.

You look at him confused, “No... Brock and I have been together for almost a year,” you tell him gently, smiling as your feel Brock kiss your forehead. You leaned into him for comfort, worried about what your dad will say.

“I... alright,” he sighed, smiling as Trent kissed him on the cheek. Trent was proud of him being calm, and not threatening your boyfriend. In reality, he was planning Brock’s death a very violent way, and where to hide the body.

The night went smoothly, a little too smoothly, if you were honest. Everyone ate and had a good time, the night ending with each Carter cuddled up to their significant other, watching a horror movie.

Brock had went to start the truck after the movie was over, letting you to hug your dads. “Thank you,” you whispered, smiling at Metal.

“what for?” he chuckled, letting go so you could hug Trent.

“For being nice to him, and not threatening to kill him,” you chcuckled as you hugged Trent, who went back to having his arms wrapped around Metal when you let go. Metal nodded, as you said goodbye, not knowing his plans for in the morning.

“You did good, babe,” Trent mumbled, kissing his cheek before making sure the food was away, getting ready to go to bed.

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All was quiet on the base the next morning, the hustle and bustle of the military operation at it’s usual pace. All of Bravo trickled in one by one, no one understanding the scene in front of them as they entered the cage room.

In front of Brock’s locker, there was a hatchet, a bag of lye, and a shovel; along with a note which was written in, what looked like, blood.

“Brock,

You hurt my kid, these tools will be used in removing you from the situation. The hatchet will be used to cut you up into bite-sized pieces for Cerberus to enjoy. What is left of you will be dissolved by the lye, and you will be buried where no one can find the evidence.

They’re my child, I will do whatever it takes to make sure they are happy and safe.

I’m watching you.”

Bravo watched Brock visibly pale as he read the note, causing Trent to smile, shaking his head at his boyfriend’s antics. He should have known last night was too calm, that Metal was being polite because Y/N didn’t want their father to be overprotective.

Oh well, at least Brock understood now the consequences if he fucked up.

#brock reynolds x reader #brock reynolds x carter!reader #scott full metal carter #seal team #seal team imagine #Trent Sawyer #Trent Sawyer x Scott full metal carter

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lewis-winters · 3 years

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Hi but I actually really want your detailed character analysis for each guy in the Craver interrogation scene 👀

Oh anon, the monster you have unleashed.

Ok so like. This is only one of many of my (often contradicting, bc if I am anything I am a flip-flopping bitch #taurus-gemini cusp) readings of this scene. But it certainly is the most interesting:

Ok, so let's start with the three boys outside of the beating room. Namely, Floyd Talbert, Ron Speirs, and George Luz.

There is only one agitated fella in this frame, and it's not George Luz. George is very secure in himself here-- there's tension lining him and making him stiff and his attempts at humor fall flat, but the fact that he is making attempts at all is a sign that he knows who he is in this moment and he knows what he is being called to do. And that's to distract Tab.

Tab, on the other hand, is struggling with two sides of him. One is the vindictive side that wants to be in the room with the other guys. But that side is largely trumped by his very rational, very Company 1st Sergeant side. He isn't agitated because he wants to join in. He's agitated because he knows he should stop them, and he's right. He should. Though the beating is "justified", the Military Police will most likely not think so. He's 1st Sergeant, he's in charge of most, if not all of the men in there. If the MPs investigate this incident, he will have to be the one to answer for them. And also I just think he doesn't want to see anybody get into trouble. Except he can't go in there and stop them because they have a point, or at least, they think they do. Craver hurt one of their own, and now there is no reasoning with them. Look at who's inside: Bull and Martin and Malarkey. NCOs, just like Tab. None of them outrank him, but they are still leaders in their own right. And if Tab were to go in there and stop them, they'd chew him out for it.

Tab is waiting for someone like Ron to come in and stop it. Because Tab knows he himself can't.

Except. Except. Except.

Ron doesn't stop it. Ron, in fact, enables it.

And this is where we also see Tab start to lose respect for Speirs.

IRL, Winters said that Tab resigned as 1st Sergeant because he kept comparing Speirs' leadership to Winters' leadership, and though the show itself doesn't actually make that the official reason for Tab's resignation in the next scene ("I miss being back amongst the men"), there are traces of it in this scene.

When Ron enters the room, the first thing Tab asks him is "How's Grant? Is he dead?" Speirs bypasses that question entirely for the sake of joining in on the beating, gun drawn.

From Tab's point of view, that means Ron has every intention to kill Craver.

And, of course, if we apply what we know from what IRL Winters told us, that means Tab is also thinking, in that moment; "No, Dick would never do this. Dick would never let it get this far."

And you can actually see that moment of clarity + subsequent disappointment (as well as relief at finding out Grant will live and disbelief that this just fucking happened) on his face here:

Furthermore, this is also the moment Tab (and, by extension, every body else in the room) finds out that Grant is going to make it after Ron tells them.

So not only is Tab thinking; "Dick would never do this. Dick would never let it get this far," he is also thinking "Why the fuck didn't he tell us that in the first place?! If Dick had been handling the situation, we would have gotten the news immediately! He wouldn't have allowed something as risky as this happen!"

And he's right.

But in fairness to Ron, this is probably the first time any of Easy has seen him lose his cool.

Because Ron is actually losing his cool here. This is his "it's my dog!" moment. He let the anger get to him, and therefore he made a terrible miscalculation.

I've already talked about this in this Grant/Speirs ask, but let me reiterate it here:

We (and Easy Company) are very used to thinking that Ron acts without compassion, mercy, or remorse, therefore when we first view this scene, we think that what is out of character for him is not shooting the replacement. We (and Easy, but especially Tab) are wrong. That is probably the most in character thing about Ron in this scene. What is truly out of character for him here is him drawing out the gun with the intention of shooting this motherfucker in the face.

See, one of the reasons why we think he doesn’t act with compassion, mercy, or remorse is because in the first half of the series, we don’t see him outside of the glimpses Easy company gets or the stories they exchange. But after episode 7, he’s suddenly with us all the time, and we see that his advice to Blithe was more of a… miscommunication, in a way.

Act with no compassion, no mercy, and no remorse toward the people you want to protect your men from. But this is where this scene gets complicated. At first glance, we think "ah, yes, he's protecting his men from this replacement."

Except-- there is literally 1 replacement vs. at least 1 squad of men (roughly 9 to 11 men). Why the fuck does a squad of soldiers (veterans too!) need protection against 1 replacement who has not had the same training and combat experience as them? They don't need protection here, they can handle themselves.

Oh, and another thing that adds to this predicament: Ron knows that Chuck is going to live.

Out of everyone in that room, Ron is the only one who knows that Chuck is actually going to live. So his internal struggle isn’t so much “oh I should act with no compassion, mercy, or remorse– but easy company has ~changed~ me.” In my opinion, his internal struggle in this moment, the reason why his hand trembles as he's preparing to shoot Craver, is this: “If I shoot him, I'm not protecting my men. I'm taking revenge.”

Which isn’t in his moral code.

Ron acts with no compassion, no mercy, and no remorse, yes, but there’s a certain level-headedness to him that keeps him in line at all times: only against those he's protecting his men from. Sure, he’s prone to bouts of petty anger sometimes (see in the next scene: More and his photo album), but he never lets that get in the way of his judgement (see: More didn’t back down, but neither did he do so in a disrespectful way and Ron recognized that, therefore he conceded his own defeat and didn’t punish More). He does what is necessary in the moment and never takes it beyond that.

But Chuck’s shooting drives him to the point of wanting to take revenge. He enters that room, gun drawn, with all the intention of shooting this motherfucker in the face. He knows it's a bad move. But he does it anyway. And him entering the room with his gun drawn enables everybody else. We, as an audience, have to remember that what they are doing is illegal and is very, very punishable by military law. Also: beating someone up like this, no matter how fucking vile, isn't the right thing to do, either. But sure, the MPs might be gracious enough (or if a certain Nixon is generous enough to tip them to look the other way), to let them probably get away with it on account of saying that the replacement tried to fight them and they simply fought back (yes, that does sound like rhetoric used to excuse police brutality; isn't that what this is in a way?). But if Ron pulled the trigger? If Ron had actually killed him? That would have been fucking bad.

It's not a Captain's job to enable his soldiers to do something illegal that'll most likely get them court martialled and/or killed. It's a Captain's job to protect his men. From their opponents, as well as from themselves.

In this moment, Ron is not doing that.

I know we like to get all vindictive and be all like "yeah that's what he deserves, this is justice!" but this isn't justice. This is revenge. And, again, revenge is not part of Ron's moral code. If only because revenge, more often than not, gets people killed instead of keeping them protected. If he shoots Craver, that will not only implicate him. It will implicate everyone else in the room.

He realizes it here:

Ron only comes to his senses when he already has the gun trained on Craver's face. Portrayed beautifully by Settle, might I add.

... This is a reach on my part, but I think his next movement is very powerful-- idk if it was written into the script or if this is just something Settle decided to do, but after he wipes the blood off and he turns away, Ron then takes his hat off. Which to me invokes in me the image of a king taking off his crown, or an executioner taking off his hood. It's almost as if he's relinquishing his authority in this moment-- not over Easy (since he does give them an order literally seconds after he takes it off), but over the right to be judge, jury, and executioner.

He recognizes that he did a whoopsie.

You know who I think also recognizes it?

George fucking Luz.

Look at his face. Look at his fucking expression here:

This is the face of a man who knows the what ifs and the could haves. He's put two and two together and he's pissed.

That's why I think another layer of him staying outside isn't just to comfort Tab. It was self-preservation. He still had his wits around him at this time-- arguably he and Tab are the only ones thinking straight in this moment; it's no coincidence that it looks like he's looking at Tab here-- and a part of him believed that Ron would, too. Except, he didn't. That's why he's angry. Ron came up short.

Or idk, I could be projecting, I mean I would be pretty pissed off in his position. Pissed at Craver, but also pissed at Speirs-- if my Captain, my leader, the guy I trusted decided to do something reckless like that and put all the lives of my fellow soldiers on the line simply because he wanted revenge or simply because he wanted to scare people and therefore get a grip over the situation, I would be angry, too. Remember, Speirs has a layer of protection, somewhat. Probably wealthy family, some wealth squirreled away. Not to mention he's a commissioned officer less likely to be used as a scapegoat. These men, everyone in that room, are enlisted working class men. Most likely, they don't get the luxury of a scapegoat or a tip off or bail. Had Speirs gone through with it, they'd have a body on their hands. And if the family of this replacement pushed, the MPs will no doubt pick someone in this room and pin it on them. Or hell, they'll take everyone, punish all of them, and then execute several. They were just lucky this replacement didn't actually have anybody on his side.

This was dangerous. But Ron let it happen. He didn't protect them like he promised he would. And to some degree, George and Tab know that.

Although, I can argue, everybody in this room realizes that. Except, they realize it too late.

They realize it the second Ron pulls the gun.

I've said it before, in this ask right here, that Liebgott flinches in this scene. Which is funny, considering when Ron enters the room, he's the one who's most in Craver's face. Him and Babe. Which is understandable, considering the three of them were close, as can be gleaned from the Last Patrol. Of course Lieb and Babe would get dibs on Carver's face. Of course they're the ones who get to bloody them up good. Carver shot their best friend-- of course they're angry. Liebgott especially-- I feel like this is the episode where he lets all his anger out. For ep 1 - 9, he's fine. He's funny and jovial-- a little irritable, especially in the Last Patrol, but only at Web, really. And not even by that much. What he mostly is, is tired. And that's it.

But this is after Landsberg and after the mountain top, too. He's angry and he has no outlet. So of course he's the one getting the most hits on Craver. And when Speirs enters the picture, he's delighted in some way. But it doesn't last.

At first he's watching Speirs (as beautifully depicted in this gif set), he is the only one watching Speirs. Then, Craver is pistol whipped and held at gun point and what does Joe do?

He flinches. Babe also flinches. And then they, and the rest of the room, look away. They all look away. From Bull to Babe to Johnny to even Pat and Popeye. Frank physically steps back. Malarkey literally closes his eyes. The only one looking is More. It's almost like the weight of what they have done has finally sunk in for all of them.

But, it's not enough to spur them to stop Speirs. In fact, except for Malarkey, they turn back to look.

Because, like Speirs, the need for revenge is pulling them toward this need to see this replacement die. But unlike Speirs, they don't know if Chuck is alive or not.

And that's where it gets Yikes. And in a way, maybe Tab is right. If Dick had been in Ron's position, 1) this replacement would have been given to the MPs immediately, and; 2) Grant's safety and the news of Grant's safety would have been the top priority. And though that would have not quelled their anger, they would have at least been comforted by the knowledge that Grant was going to live.

Listen, Ron abides by the same code of honor Dick and all the other officers abide by, and he has held up that same code of honor many times. In different ways and through different methods, yes, but always with the same goal in mind: protect. Always protect.

But not here.

Ron did not give them the comfort of knowing Grant's status and he put them in a dangerous situation. He did not think of them first. No doubt spurred on by his own trauma and his own simmering anger and lack of a proper outlet, a proper enemy to take it out on, he was blinded by his rage and simply thought of himself and his revenge. Not his men.

Ron slipped up. They're just lucky he caught himself before it got any worse.

#band of brothers #bob meta #oh ron honey this isn't a good look for you #ronald speirs #floyd talbert #george luz #joe liebgott #babe heffron #just those bc they're the ones i zoom in on the most #tho everybody gets a sweeping mention #ask

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shuahoonie · 3 years

Text

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right?

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k!

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday.

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love.

gif credits: @underoos-shield

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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging.

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle.

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest.

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway.

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted.

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.”

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019.

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.”

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone.

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you.

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place.

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started.

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly.

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.”

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious.

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him.

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly.

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.”

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.”

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?”

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it.

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?”

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on.

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long.

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.”

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend.

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her.

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped.

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.”

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.”

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush.

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks.

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation.

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—”

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this.

So—what really happened with you and Tom?

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA!

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head.

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no? Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol.

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes.

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously.

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state.

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too.

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price.

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt.

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.”

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.”

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.”

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob.

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger.

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.”

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half.

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that.

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom.

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out.

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.”

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it.

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera.

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror.

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.”

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend.

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame.

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.”

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open.

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door.

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime.

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly.

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred.

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.”

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.”

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still!

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom.

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close.

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.”

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over.

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on.

“Tom—”

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—”

“Tom, listen to me.”

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?”

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.”

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.”

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.”

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables.

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out.

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings.

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.”

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.”

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude.

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.”

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.”

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.”

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.”

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up.

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight.

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.”

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail.

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee.

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee.

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you.

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands.

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question.

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.”

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?”

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless.

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe.

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter.

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.”

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.”

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe.

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin.

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day.

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone.

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used.

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?”

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it.

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime.

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you.

“Well, he hates—”

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth.

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point.

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?”

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed.

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house.

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later.

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously.

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.”

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part.

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up.

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face.

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug.

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t.

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates.

Tom was confused.

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.”

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately.

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh.

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily.

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big.

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it.

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well.

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with.

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.”

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.”

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about.

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve.

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly.

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask,

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom.

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you.

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers.

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas.

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning.

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly.

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud.

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.”

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself.

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night.

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures.

“How did that even—”

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face.

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish.

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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hockeywhhores · 3 years

Text

outlaw- m. tkachuk

Matthew Tkachuk x f!Reader

warnings~ swearing, miscommunications, alcohol consumption

summary~ The wags don’t really like you, what happens when they decide to stir shit up?

genre~ pre-established relationship, angst

word count~ 3K

Valentine’s week masterlist

main masterlist

remember that this is all fiction! I don’t think any of them would actually act like this!

Matthew knew of the reputation that preceded him. His nickname was Chucky, for god’s sake. Having such an evil reputation never bugged him off the ice until he met you. You never made him feel bad for the way he acted, in fact you were always defending him. Social media was not kind to him, and when you started dating him, social media also turned on you. Nasty tweets were always being thrown your way, but you just let it all roll off your shoulders. Your stubbornness always drew in Matthew. He loved how you didn’t take shit from anyone. Yet it messed with him, because he knew you were only taking all this shit because of him.

“Babe, I’m done getting ready!” you hollered from down the hall. Effectively pulling Matthew from his thoughts while he was semi-watching some sports channel. He heard your heels on the hardwood floor first, then he saw the mini sparkly black dress you were wearing. The dress was something you bought a couple months ago, but it still took his breath away whenever he saw it. It hugged you in all the right places, and the neckline plunged perfectly, catching the roundness of your boobs. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” He gaped at you like a fish, and you just laughed.

“You look gorgeous.” Matthew finally found words, but still didn’t think they were strong enough.

“You look handsome as always.” you smirked back, looking him up and down. Matthew was wearing a black t-shirt that captured how big his arm muscles were. His jeans also made his ass look great.

“How did I ever get you?” he rhetorically asked. You just shrugged and then grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the house. He locked the door, and you went down the elevator and to his car. The drive was perfectly fine with the radio station playing all the right songs with little ads.

The flames had their longest rest period of the season, so a lot of the guys were out tonight with their wives. You talked with one wife, before making your way to the actual bar. Matthew had made it up there before you and had already ordered. They served your drinks to you quickly. Then you dragged Matthew to the dance floor. You were moving your body against his, and just having a good time. Dancing like that for a couple more songs before you had to go to the bathroom. You tried to make your trip to the bathroom quick, but slowed when you heard some wag. The voice sounded like Katie’s, talking about you and Matthew. You kept hidden in the stall, trying to hear everything before you showed yourself.

“I don’t get what they see in each other.” Katie’s high-pitched voice was bouncing off the walls. “I mean, she looks like a slut, and he has some major anger issues.”

“I know right, did you see the dress she was wearing?” the second voice sounded like Jessica’s. “And how she was dancing on him. Doesn’t she know he is just going to leave her? I bet they will only last one more month, and then they are done.”

“With his track record, give it another week and he will be onto the next girl that will spread her legs for him.” Katie’s voice sounded off. You were sick of hearing what they were saying and showed yourself. You stepped out of the stall, and their heads snapped in your direction. You just smiled too sweetly and went to wash your hands.

“I would suggest you make sure you’re alone before you talk shit about other people.” You happily informed them.

“Why should we? You know we’re right. You just can’t admit to yourself. Matthew will never change his fuckboy ways for a girl like you.” Jessica was the brave one and spoke on her and Katie’s behalf.

“I’m not trying to change him, because he doesn’t need changed. So I suggest you shut your mouths, or at least know what you are talking about before speaking.” you walked out before they could say anything else. You went back over to Matthew, who was now sitting at the table talking with his teammates. You waved at him, and whoever he was talking to, then went to the bar to get something stronger. The bartender served you the shots you ordered, and then you went to go sit with Matthew. You would not let them ruin your night. Johnny talked with you, while Matthew continued his conversations with Mark.

“This season is getting crazy! It feels as if we have no rest time.” Johnny confessed to you. You nodded your head in agreement.

“It feels like that, because it is. You get like half a night to rest, before another practice or game.” you agreed with him.

“Hey, Isn’t that Chucky’s ex?” You heard Katie asked. You didn’t even realize that she was back at the table. Nevertheless, Matthew’s ex, Kelcie, was at the bar talking with the bartender. With her showing up and the conversation you had with them in the bathroom, you suspected them of inviting her. Matthew’s head snapped towards the bar, and you felt yourself stiffen. You had no hard feelings towards Kelcie. She was actually really nice to you whenever you had previously talked.

“Let's invite her over.” you suggested. Matthew was the one to stiffen at your suggestion. “Hey! Kelcie! Come sit with us!” you hollered at her. She heard you and came over. “How are you?” you asked in a sickly sweet tone. Patting the chair next to you, showing for her to sit down.

“I’ve been doing well. How is everyone else? The season looked good, but I bet you are all ready for the offseason.” Kelcie politely sat down.

“I’ve heard you kept busy, Kelcie.” Katie was the one to speak up in the awkwardness. “Does last Saturday ring a bell?”

“No. Last Saturday didn't ring a bell.” Kelcie looked genuinely confused.

“I heard you and Matthew had a nice dinner together.” Katie insisted. You felt Matthew to go stiff as a board, and you knew it was true. You quirked up your eyebrow, showing your interest in the conversation.

“We just had dinner and a glass of wine.” Kelcie quickly threw out. You looked back at Matthew sitting on your other side. He was already looking at you with guilty eyes.

“If you say it was just dinner, I believe you.” you concluded. “Sorry Katie, if you want me gone, you are going to have to try a lot harder.” If it was just dinner, then Matthew wouldn’t have lied about who he was having dinner with, but you would not let Katie win.

“I think we better get going, y/n” Matthew grabbed the back of your arm, pulling you out of your seat.

“Bye everyone! Kelcie, we need to grab some lunch soon!” You shouted out before Matthew could get you far enough away. “Why are we leaving, Chucky?” you asked, your voice as sharp as a knife. He just led you to the car. “If it was just dinner you didn’t have to lie to me.” you mumbled out.

Matthew was silent throughout the entire drive. The radio wasn’t even playing, and you were getting increasingly more worried. Why wasn’t he answering you? You were never so happy to see his apartment complex. No one said anything until you made it inside his apartment.

“Matthew, you have to fucking talk to me.” you finally got out. He now has no reason not to talk. “I thought you were going to stop fucking around. Please tell me you have.” you pleaded with him, tearing welling up in your eyes.

“I stopped fucking around.” Matthew finally answered you. “I can’t tell you why I was going to dinner with her right now. I just need your trust.”

“You need my trust? You do not have the most trustworthy reputation. Why can’t you just tell me?” you were now letting the tears fully fall.

“I just can’t tell you right now.” Matthew signed out.

“I think I need to be alone tonight.” you sadly huffed out.

“Please don’t leave. I just need some time.” Matthew now was the one pleading with you.

“I just need some time, Matthew. I need tonight to myself. Now I am going to take an Uber, and you will not show up at my apartment, until I can get my head together.” you explained. “I was happily proving all the wags wrong, and then you throw this shit at me.” Matthew nodded in understanding, and you got the notification the car you ordered was ready out front. You left with a ‘see you later.’ Not being in the talking mood and your driver understanding that, you kept to just listening to the radio.

You were exhausted when you opened the door to your apartment. It was cold inside and felt slightly foreign. You hadn’t been there in at least a week, choosing to just stay at Matthew’s. Quickly getting ready for bed, you didn’t waste any time getting into your queen sized bed. You didn’t sleep well at all. You missed Matthew’s cuddles and getting warm from his body heat. You even missed having something to wake up to, besides an empty bed. Tossing and turning you decided you should check your phone since putting it on do not disturb. You had a couple social media notifications, and some text from Johnny, Mark, and even Kelcie.

“It really was just dinner.” Kelcie had texted you.

“Matthew loves you, he is always telling us so. Please, just trust him.” Mark’s message read.

“I don’t know what the fuck happened tonight, but I am so sorry for the way the girls treated you. Matthew loves you. Just hear him out.” Johnny’s message was the last one you read.

Bursting out in tears, you couldn’t believe what happened tonight. You did nothing wrong to the wives. Why did they hate you? You ended up crying yourself to sleep and woke up way past noon. The sun was already set high in the sky, and you have to force yourself out of your bed. Making yourself ‘breakfast’ and turning on the TV. You were skipping through channels, stopping when you saw Matthew doing a pre-game interview on Sportsnet. The Flames had an early, one time game against the Oilers, and then they were off to Montréal to play the Canadians. You honestly didn’t know if you were going to talk to him before he left.

Deciding to go against your brain, you sent him a quick ‘good luck’ text before shutting your phone back off. You had some work to do, and just let the game go on in the background. Cleaning your kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, before working on some spreadsheets you had taken home from work. You didn’t check your phone for the rest of the day, staying busy with work. The Flames ended up winning, and you got the horn sound through your TV. You still smiled when the camera zoomed into Matthew hugging his teammates.

When you turned your phone on the following day, you went out of your way to avoid all text messages from anyone that was associated with the Flames or Matthew. You just wanted to get through work and come home to have a bubble bath with some wine. And you did just that. You tried not to take too many breaks at work, because when you did all you could think about was Matthew. When you made it home and got into that bubble bath you’ve been dreaming of all day, you couldn’t help and think about how Matthew would hold you as you both bathed together. You pushed all those thoughts away, and slipped into the bath, letting the warmth of the water comfort you. You went to bed early and only ever looked at your messages when you needed to text one of your coworkers.

The next day was like Groundhog Day, where Billy Murray’s days repeated. You felt like a zombie. Work went as normal and you even got done early and could head back to your apartment an hour early. This was the last series of hockey games for the season. The Flames weren’t going into the offseason, but you were still proud of Matthew, anyway. You quickly texted Matthew a quick ‘good luck.’ He always said that was his good luck charm. Saying that he just plays better after getting that text. And who were you to mess up his game? You didn’t read any of the text he had sent you and watched the pre-game interviews. You weren’t paying too much attention until Matthew’s voice came out of your speakers.

“We have Matthew Tkachuk with us!” the reporter excitedly cheered out. “How are you doing, Matthew?”

“I’m doing fine, how about you guys?” Matthew answered back.

“We are doing alright! What are you doing to get ready for this game?” the reporter was just asking him generic questions.

“Well, I’m just doing everything I usually do.” Matthew seemed a little uninterested, but kept the interview going.

“Do you have anything planned for the offseason?” This question sparked your interest.

“Yeah, I hope to be spending it with my beautiful girlfriend.” Matthew conceded. The interview was over quickly, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew. You did really miss him. The Flames schedule was two games back to back, a rest day, and then the last game. Matthew had told you before that they were planning on flying home right after the last game.

The days were separated by how you spent your night. One night you went out to dinner with a coworker, another night you spent going to the movies alone, and the other two were spent trying new dinners recipes. When you tried the new red pepper pasta dish, you caught yourself thinking about how Matthew would like it, and how you should make it for him sometime. After you couldn’t get him off your mind, you spent the night crying about how much you missed Matthew. Without thinking, you checked the messages Matthew had previously sent you:

I love you.

Please don’t leave me.

Would you be willing to meet with me at my apartment tomorrow night? I have something I need to confess.

Nothing bad, I promise.

I really love you.

My mom misses you, and I do too.

You chuckled a bit at the last text. Before you could chicken out, you texted Matthew saying that you would go to his apartment after work. He answered back quickly, saying how he missed you and couldn’t wait to come clean. You didn’t sleep too well that night. Your brain was just stuck thinking about what Matthew could have to tell you.

The morning came too soon, and so did your alarm. You thought about calling in sick, but thought better of it. The morning was the same as any other, and you went to your plain-old job. Today your boss swamped you with work, meaning you would have to work a little later than you had planned. You rushed over to Matthew’s after you finished your last spreadsheet. You were definitely driving over the speed limit in some zones, but you just wanted to get to Matthew’s apartment. When you came to his door, you didn’t know if to knock or not. You haven’t knocked on his door in what felt like forever. You thought it would be better to knock, and Matthew opened the door in record time. “Sorry I got caught up at work.”

“No, you're right in time. I just finished making some dinner.” Matthew waved you off.

“You made dinner? Oh, no.” you chirped him, and he laughed. It felt good to hear him laugh.

Dinner was fantastic. He made chicken with some vegetables on the side. Conversation was easy between you guys; it always has been. Matthew told you stories of what happened during the road trip, and you told him what you have been up to.

After eating, Matthew became really serious. “Give me a minute, and I’ll explain everything.” After that, he left the dining room and went to his bedroom. You had moved into the living room and waited patiently for him to come back. When he did, he asked you to turn around, and you followed his directions. “Turn around.” he whispered.

Matthew was on one knee, with a ring box open in his hands, “Will you marry me?”

“I need some answers before I can give you an answer.” you admitted.

“I’ll tell you everything.” Matthew begged.

“Why did you lie about having dinner with Kelcie?” you questioned

“She was helping me plan a more romantic proposal, but I kinda ruined the plan.” Matthew explained. “Nothing ever happened between us. I lied because I didn’t want you to ask why I was going to see her. I just wanted things to be perfect.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“I wanted to wait until after the season where we could have some time to ourselves.” he explained.

“Ask me again.” you demanded.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me to marry you again, Doofus.” you chuckled.

“Oh, um. Will you marry me y/n?” Matthew questioned nervously.

“Yes!” you gladly said. Matthew sprung up and slid the diamond ring on to your finger. You kissed him passionately.

“You don’t know how excited my mom is going to be.” Matthew sighed. “She loves you. I think she almost flew out, when I told her what I did.” You just chuckled.

“I love you, Matthew, but never fucking do that to me again.” you said.

“I promise to never do that to you again. You stole my heart, future Mrs. Tkachuk.” Matthew whispered in your ear. The night turned out better than you expected. You couldn’t be more excited to show your ring to everyone, knowing the love of your life was right there beside you.

finished

#matthew tkachuk imagine #Matthew tkachuk x reader #Matthew tkachuk angst #Matthew tkachuk fluff #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #calgary flames #hockey #hockey fic #hockey boys

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pumpkinpaix · 3 years

Note

Hey, something I’ve been wondering since I first watched CQL: in ep 5, there’s a line where Wen Qing is talking to Wen Ning and says something like ‘Our family has been doctors for centuries, but I can’t cure my own brother’ (that’s verbatim from the US Netflix subtitles) and I’ve always wondered about that word, ‘cure’. As someone who lives with mental illness, I’m a little sensitive to the idea of a mental affliction being ‘cured,’ as though it’s a malady to be remedied, as though there’s something ‘wrong’ that can be ‘fixed’. The word ‘cure’ brings up all that discomfort for me, but I only know English, and I’m curious to know how accurate the concept of a ‘cure’ is to the actual conversation taking place there? I think a lot about the way neurodivergence is discussed in CQL, and I don’t want to misjudge connotation based on translation error.

hi there! so this ask is *checks* a month old yikes, but i’ve been thinking about it for a long time so here we go (finally)! :D

so here’s the scene in question:

[ID: two screenshots from episode 5 of the untamed. wen qing is speaking to wen ning. the subtitles read ‘我却治不了自己弟弟的病’ and ‘but i can’t cure my own brother’. /end ID]

with regards to your grammar/language question: 治 can mean both “to treat” and “to cure”. there are certain sentence constructions that can make it clear which it is, but not all of them do so.

for example, 治好 is definitely ‘to cure’ - the grammar there is [VERB + 好] can mean either “to finish VERBing” or “to VERB well”. so, to finish treating = to cure.

however, in this case, that’s not the construction that’s being used, and I would say it’s not clear-cut. “VERB + 不了” is “to be unable to VERB”. because 治 is ambiguous on its own, what she says here, “我却治不了自己弟弟的病”, comes down to “but I am unable to treat/cure my own younger brother’s illness”.

what I think is maybe a more complicated issue is the idea of mental illness and/or neurodivergence in CQL and how understandings of it impact our perceptions of the characters/narrative.

I’ve seen a lot of interpretations of Wen Ning’s affliction in CQL to be neurodivergence, but I’m actually quite surprised when I hear this. i believe the illness wen qing and wei wuxian refer to when talking about wen ning is his susceptibility/weakness towards resentful/yin energy, which manifests in fainting spells and long bouts of unconsciousness. to me, that is not analogous to mental illness or neurodivergence so much as something like epileptic episodes brought on by exposure to specific triggers. by CQL canon, we know that he has not always had this -- he contracted the illness after his encounter with the guanyin statue that sucked away part of his soul when he was a child, and this now gives him a weak constitution and makes him largely unsuitable for night hunting, especially unsupervised. this is what wen qing is trying to treat and/or cure. in mdzs, he does not have this condition, and wen qing never mentions anything about trying to treat or cure him at all.

given that this condition is most likely a creation for the sake of getting around censors at least in part (basically: a way to create a reason for why wen ning isn’t “dead” -- in addition, probably was also meant to increase wen sibs screentime/sympathy), I’ve always seen it as a bit of a handwavy physical condition that was tacked on as opposed to an actual statement about his character, if that makes sense.

in general, I’m hesitant to outright assign labels of neurodivergence or mental illness to mdzs/cql characters because I think that labels like that are inherently societally and culturally dependent. with the rise of identity politic rhetoric in the US and all of that kind of getting tangled up with our conceptions of being ND or mentally ill, I worry about trying to analyze mdzs/cql through such a lens because identities are so inextricably tied to environment. even if both i and a character could be “diagnosed” with the same condition, I think it would be undeniable that our experiences of such would be very different because we come from different cultural backgrounds. not just, chinese author vs american reader but like, fantastical xianxia chinese conception of a character vs chinese-american conception of identity.

alskdjfl idk if this even makes sense, but!! basically, I actually don’t think that CQL discusses or really portrays neurodivergence at all, not in such terms. I think it’s completely appropriate and valid to headcanon and interpret characters in ways that resonate with you! i certainly do, lol (morally scrupulous twin jades anyone? :D 🥃), but im nervous about asserting that any CQL characters actually are/have xyz condition because I don’t think that a discussion on that front is particularly meaningful. I know that this hesitance comes both from my own views on what neurodivergence/mental illness mean and how useful those terms actually are, and also from a very personal anger over some moral injunctions that I’ve seen people place on portraying characters’ “real” or “coded” mental states that are seriously misguided, harmful, and extremely culturally american in their claims (that will probably be a separate post though lol).

that isn’t to say there isn’t value in thinking about how one can interpret characters in one way or another, or that there isn’t value in discussing how unintentionally, a character might fall into archetypes that evoke certain identities and how that subtext might or might not impact a person’s experience or takeaway from the media! but I think all of that has to be contextualized as opposed to generalized. /o\

this.... came out a lot less coherent than i wanted it to be, but my brain is Not having it for some reason. I hope that I at least managed to answer your question/help you along in your continuing thought process!!! :D

(ko-fi)

#vulcansmirk #asks and replies #mine #mymeta #wen ning #mdzs #mdzs meta #cql meta #the untamed meta #the untamed #cql #neurodivergence #??#i guess

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 23

Word Count: 4,542

POV: Starts with the Reader then switches to Sid’s

Warngings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Sorry this is so late tonight, but well you know life, but here it is finally. Last when we saw these two, Sid had screwed up when he tried to apologize to (Y/N) and accused (Y/N) of flying back to Pittsburgh and sleeping with another man, his teammate. Now let’s find out what happened. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading! Let me know what you guys think.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

READER'S POV

"Are you ok?" Matt asked, throwing an arm around you as your head hung low in your hands. You could tell by his soft voice he wasn't sure if you were crying or not. Oh, you could that was for sure, but not from sadness, it was out of anger.

"No," you mumbled, then stood up and started to pace the floor. "I'm pissed off."

"I can tell," Cully answered as he watched you move around the great room.

"Who does he think he is?" It was a rhetorical question, so Matt stayed quiet. "I can't believe he has the nerve to think that I would just fly home to Pittsburgh and just jump in bed with someone. And that for him to think that I would sleep with you!" That came out a bit harsher than you intended. "Not that you're not hot or anything, but you're Dad, you know, and then there's Bridget and…"

"I get it, (Y/N)." Matt chimed in saving you from further embarrassment.

"He's just so fucking frustrating." You plopped back down on the couch next to Matt. "He never asked me to move in, you know. He just thinks I'm a mind reader or something. I mean sure I would've loved to move in, had he asked, but did he? NO!" You fought the urge to jump off of the sofa and start pacing again. There was so much tension and frustration that was bundled up inside you, that you just needed to get this nervous energy out of your system. Instead, you reached for the carton of sweet and sour chicken you'd order and shoved a piece in your mouth. It tasted like the cardboard it came in, but that had nothing to do with the quality of the food and everything to do with the nasty after-taste your conversation with Sid had left in your mouth. "I don't really think I'm being unreasonable here…do you?"

By the look on Matt's face, he was still trying to figure out what you'd said as you hadn't even swallowed the chicken before rambling again. He finished chewing his egg roll, like any normal civilized human being would, though at the moment you didn't feel normal or polite before he answered you. "First off, you're right he should've asked you about moving in." Matt could tell you were about to interrupt him, so he quickly continued. "And you're right about him jumping to a big conclusion about you sleeping with someone, though honestly, I'm quite a catch, just ask Bridget I'm sure she'll tell you that."

"You are," you said giving him a little wink, even though you'd never looked at him that way.

"Thank you, now as I was saying, and I'm not trying to make excuses for him here…"

"I feel like there's a big but coming."

"But," there it was, you saw it coming a mile away. "I've played with Sid for a year, but I've known him longer than that. You're like the first woman he's ever really had a relationship with. I just don't think he knows how to act." That couldn't be right, you thought. "I mean sure he's gone out on dates and taken someone to an event here or there but nothing like what the two of you have."

You'd known that he'd been hesitant to get involved with you because he thought it would interfere with hockey but you hadn't really given much thought to him not having experience in a relationship, but what Cully was saying made some sense. "I mean think about it, (Y/N). Hockey has been his whole life until you walked in. He went from being this amazingly talented kid to a superstar center and he's had no chance to experience the stuff that went in between with it. And do you know why that is?"

You shook your head no, wanting to hear what Cully's assessment was. "Because he's been afraid." Your brows knitted together as you tried to take in that concept. Sid wasn't afraid of anything that you knew of. Thankfully, Matt continued to explain this abstract notion to you. "He's afraid that he'll fail at it. With hockey he can control it, he can work at it. He can go out on the ice and shoot five hundred pucks until he gets that shot right. But this," Matt said, waving his hand in the air then back at you. "This thing he has with you. He has no control over it and that scares the hell out of him. There's no manual on how to be the perfect boyfriend or what to do when you have an argument, and he certainly can't go out to a rink and practice how to do it. He's afraid he'll make the wrong move, probably like he just did, and well…you'll be gone."

Fuck. That was the only word echoing through your brain. You'd never looked at any of this through Sid's eyes, but you knew that Cully was right. You tossed your head back on the sofa cushion, looking up the ceiling for some sort of divine intervention on what you should do next. "He still shouldn't have said I was sleeping with you."

"No, he shouldn't have." Matt attempted. "I guess the question is what do you want to do? Is what you have with Sid worth working things out? Are you brave enough to navigate the waters so to speak, where no one else has; helping him along?" You closed your eyes already knowing what you were going to do, but still thinking all your options out. "I remember a certain someone," he jabbed his elbow lightly into your ribs. "Being a bit insecure herself about dating a famous athlete not too long ago."

You looked over at Matt, head still firmly planted into the headrest of the couch, and rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and Sid reassured me about everything." Now it was your turn to reassure him you supposed.

"It's up to you what you want to do. The ball, or puck in your case, is in your rink so to speak."

"I'm still mad at him," you told Cully, finally sitting upright on the couch.

"Rightly so."

"Which means he can stew a little bit longer."

"Bridget would agree with you." You had to laugh at that because you had a feeling Matt's wife had left him in the dog house a time or two before he was actually forgiven.

Blowing out a long breath, you'd come to your decision. "But I will forgive him."

"That's my girl," Cully said then handed back over your Chinese carton to continue eating. "Now that that's settled. Can we finish eating?"

It was a couple hours later before Matt left for the evening. "Promise me you won't let him wait forever before talking to him."

"I won't." Though you did want him to suffer just a bit longer.

"Good, because I have a feeling he'll be blowing up my phone until you talk to him." You walked Matt to the door.

"Sorry, you got dragged into this mess."

Matt leaned in and kissed your head like any dutiful dad would that was helping his daughter. "Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, and thanks again."

SID'S POV

You turned over for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour and looked at the clock. Which literally read twelve minutes after three. Exactly seven minutes from the last time you'd looked at it. Why hadn't she called already? Was she going to? She probably hated you and she had every right to. You were so fucking stupid accusing her of sleeping with someone when all you wanted to do was apologize for the first fuck up you'd made the night before. Instead, you'd gone and made things a million times worth.

The tone of her voice said it all. (Y/N) was pissed beyond words at the accusation and you knew that had she been standing in front of you she probably would've smacked you across the face; deservingly so. There was no point in laying in bed and staring at four walls so you got up and went to blow off some steam by working out, though it didn't help.

You were a walking zombie by the time training practice rolled around though you put every ounce of effort you had into it, at least when you weren't checking your phone to see if (Y/N) had called. She hadn't. Physically, you were exhausted and it was only six o'clock at night. Nate suggested going out for dinner but you couldn't stomach the thought of eating a nice meal knowing that your relationship was barely hanging on by a thread, so you opted out and instead just grabbed some takeout at home.

You'd spoken to Matt a couple times, though all he would say was to give (Y/N) time. How much time though? That was the real question. Should you be jumping on a plane and flying down to Pittsburgh at this very moment or would that make this worse? You'd really made a mess of things and had no clue how to fix it.

Sleep evaded you again that night, even though you were both mentally and physically exhausted. You finally fell asleep around four-thirty in the morning only to have the alarm go off at six. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed off to train, hoping that it would take your mind off things.

"You look like shit, man," Nate told you as soon as you walked into the building. "You sure you want to be here today."

"What else am I going to do?"

Nate shrugged not having an answer of his own for you. "Have you at least talked to (Y/N)?"

"No, I haven't called her. I'm trying to give her time."

Nate looked you up and down a few times assessing you and weighing his words before he spoke again. "I know you're trying to give her space, but maybe you should go see her. I've never seen you like this man."

"I want to." All you wanted to do was get on a plane and head straight to her. "I'm just not sure it won't make things worse."

"I know she wanted you to stay and train, but honestly Sid, neither one of us is going to be pushing hard when you're completely exhausted. I'm not saying to fly back and stay in Pittsburgh. Just go there and work things out with her." Nate clapped you on the back. "For both our sakes."

Maybe he was right. You could just fly down for the day and come right back. All you needed to do was call and get a plane. "You're right. As soon as we're done today, I'm going to call and get it all set up. I've got to win her back."

"That's the spirit."

Training went a little better as you formulated a plan to win back (Y/N). You were even smiling some at the end of the day. "So as soon as we get that Tim Horton's shoot done, I'm flying out. Think we can get it done by four tomorrow afternoon?" You asked Nate as you grabbed your bag and headed out of the facility. "The plane can be ready by five, so that gives me an hour to get to the airport. Think that's enough time?"

You were looking at your schedule on your phone making sure that you could fit everything in before flying and not paying attention when you heard Nate say, "I don't think you have to worry about making that plane." You looked up at Nate not knowing why he would say such a thing when he was the one that suggested you go to Pittsburgh in the first place. He nodded his head pointing in the direction of your Suburban. There stood (Y/N) leaning up against your car.

You blinked once and then repeated the action, not believing that she was really there. It had to be some sort of dream. Were you hallucinating? Lack of sleep could do that to a person. But as you drew near, it became evident that she was standing there in the flesh and blood. She looked stunning, wearing a plain belted t-shirt dress; her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, with little wisps framing her face. God, you'd missed her.

"Hey (Y/N)." Nate's voice brought you out of your musing and you shook yourself, trying to regain your composure.

"Hi Nate," she waved back, before pushing off the vehicle.

"Good luck," Nate told then took off for his own car.

You were too busy staring at the woman in front of you though to pay any attention to Nate. "Hi," you whispered in a small voice, one that was shaky and unsure of how to proceed.

"Hi, Sidney." You found yourself frown at her use of your name. It wasn't Sid, or babe, or hun, or any of the other million nicknames she called you. "Can we talk?" You wanted to, that was your whole point of planning to go to Pittsburgh for a whirlwind of twelve to sixteen hours, but now that (Y/N) was standing here, you had no idea what to say.

"Yeah," was the only word that came out of your mouth and you wanted to kick yourself for not saying anything more.

"Not here," she said motioning to the parking lot.

No, this wasn't exactly an ideal place to have an intimate conversation about your relationship. "Did you want to go back to the house?" Oh god, maybe that was a bad suggestion. "Or we could go grab something to eat?" Even though that was the last thing you wanted to do.

"The house is fine." She opened the passenger door and then crawled inside the car before you could say anything else. It took you a minute to gather yourself and walk around to the driver's side. You'd planned on coming up with a whole speech to say to her while you were on the plane. Now you had exactly nine and half minutes, if there was traffic, to think of how you were going to apologize to the woman you loved.

The ride was silent except for the radio playing in the background. It was weird to drive like this with her. Normally your hands would be interlaced resting on the console in the middle of the car as you drove with your free hand, but as you glanced over you saw that she was sitting on hers. A clear sign that you were not supposed to touch her. It killed you and so your hands remained at ten and two on the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip as you fought the urge not to reach over and grab her.

You glanced every so often at her, wondering what was going through her mind. It killed you that she wasn't saying anything. "How was your flight?" you finally blurted out when you were halfway home.

"It was good. Had a bit of a layover in Philly. So not as good as flying privately with you."

That flight was one you wouldn't forget. It was the first time you'd been thirty thousand feet in the air and buried deep inside (Y/N). Definitely an experience you'd thought you'd be repeating again. You hadn't expected that you'd be in the car with her now wondering if you still had a relationship.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, your nerves were shot, wondering if (Y/N) had flown all the way just to break up with you. You tried to think logically and tell yourself that if she wanted to do that, she would've done it on the phone, but knowing (Y/N), she would have to tell you that in person and not take the cowardly way out. She followed you into the house, where you sat your bag down at the door before Sammy came wondering up for her nightly pats. "Hey Sammy, how are you sweet girl?" (Y/N) said bending down to show your dog more affection than she'd shown you.

You coughed trying to work the lump that was in your throat out. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"A water would be great." You grabbed two bottles out of the fridge, opening hers like you always did, before handing it over to her, both of you taking a drink.

"(Y/N), I'm…" you started to say right as (Y/N) said "Sid, I…" The two of you laughed, even though it was hollow, it still broke the tension.

"Do you mind if I go first?" (Y/N) asked though she didn't really need to as you'd gladly give her anything as long as she didn't say she never wanted to see you again. "I hope you know that I would never, not in a million years, cheat on you. I'm not sure how you jumped to that conclusion but I'm not that kind of person, Sid. If I wanted to be with someone else, I'd be upfront with you and tell you. I wouldn't go running off and sneak behind your back."

When she took a breath, you jumped in. "I know that (Y/N). I truly do. I don't have an excuse for why I said that other than to say that I was jealous and upset, but I'm truly sorry for saying it. I don't know how I can make it up to you."

"I just don't understand why you think that. Have I ever given you a reason to believe that I would do something like that?"

"NO!" You shouted, not really yelling at her but wanting her to know it wasn't her fault. "I'm just stupid. Stupid and crazy in love with you, and sometimes…" you blew out a breath. "I'm just so worried I'm going to lose you or you won't love me anymore. I'm not good at this (Y/N). I've never had a relationship last over a couple weeks. I'm afraid I'll do something wrong and push you away, but that's what I did anyhow."

"Sid," (Y/N) said taking your hands in hers. You relished even that small contact. "You're not going to lose me or do something wrong." She moved a step closer to you, and you breathed in the intoxicating fragrance that was (Y/N). "I love you silly, and yes I was upset that you didn't see my point about staying here, and we both did stupid things, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you." Her hand came up and cupped your cheek and you found yourself melting into her touch. "We both need to learn to communicate better. No more running away, for either of us." You were surprised she was including herself in this part, but you supposed she considered taking an earlier flight to Pittsburgh running away as well. "Do you think we can do that?"

"Of course, if you think you can forgive me for being a selfish jerk and wanting you with me all the time."

She rocked her head from side to side a small little smile playing across her lips. "I think I can do that. Besides, I kind of like that you want me around all the time."

You pulled her close, so that no distance separated the two of you, as you wrapped your arms around her waist. "You do huh?"

"MmmHmm." It was then that she leaned up and captured your lips. God, she tasted like heaven. It had been almost four days since you'd kissed her, yet it felt like four million years. You poured all your love into the kiss hoping to show her how much you not only loved her but how sorry you were for everything that you had done.

When the two of you finally came up for air, you asked her, "So when are you flying back? Tell me that there won't be a car here in fifteen minutes to pick you up."

"It's actually thirty."

"That would've been so much more convincing if you weren't smirking the entire time," you told her giving her hips a little squeeze.

"You're stuck with me until Sunday night. That is if I can stay?"

"Are you crazy? Of course, you can stay, but where's your stuff?" You distinctly remember seeing her have only her purse with her when she was leaning against the car.

"Oh, well. I stashed it in the garage before I had the car drop me off at the rink."

"So, you mean to tell me you planned on forgiving me all along?"

"I had some very good advice from a mutual friend, that lead me here." She had to be referring to Cully. You definitely owed him when you got back in town.

"Well, I'll be sure to thank him." You dropped a kiss to her lips again, just needing to touch her in any way possible. "Did you want to go out for dinner? I can change and be ready in ten minutes."

Her arms tightened around your neck, as your hands moved up and down her sides. "I'd rather just stay in and order if you don't mind."

"Not at all," you answered with a raise of your eyebrows. "Though there is something I have to ask you." She pulled back slightly and cocked her head to the side in question. "I was stupid before to assume that you'd just move in with me. So now, this is me asking. (Y/N), I know I can be extremely difficult and stupid at times, but there's nothing I want more than to go to sleep every night lying beside you and to have you wake up next to me every morning. Any chance of making this happen?"

You could see her thinking it over and you weren't sure if she was trying to be cute and make you wait for an answer or if she truly had concerns. "I would love to, on one condition." It was your turn to give her that questioning look. "If it becomes too much, you know being with each other at home and at work; you'll tell me so I can move back to my place."

"Babe, it's not going to be too much. I don't want you six feet from me now. That's not going to change."

"I know but if it does…"

"If it does, we'll talk about it. Like mature adults. I will not storm out of the house and go stay with Geno." She laughed then, the sound music to your ears.

"Well, then Mr. Crosby it looks like you just got yourself a roommate."

"And a pretty one at that," you said kissing her soundly on the lips. "Now, what would you like for dinner?"

"Maybe we should skip that and go straight for dessert?" (Y/N) was peppering you with kisses and making it hard to concentrate. This was your first fight and you weren't sure if you should just give in and go all out for makeup sex or take things slow and continue to talk things over at dinner. The last thing you needed was to make another mistake that's for sure.

Pulling back ever so slightly from the embrace, you gazed at (Y/N). "Are you sure about skipping dinner?"

(Y/N)'s hand slid down to your crotch where she cupped your ever-growing erection. "Yes, I missed you." You didn't ask anything more, knowing that you could always order a pizza later. Instead, your lips captured hers, stealing her breath away before you scooped her up in your arms and headed upstairs. One kiss melted into another and then to another until you were laying her down on the bed that you'd shared only days ago. The same one that had felt too big without her lying beside you.

The two of you were a mess of tangled limbs and you weren't sure who was removing what clothing. All you knew is that neither one of you could be naked fast enough. Your lips traveled down her neck until you sucked on her nipples. Her body arching into your mouth greedily. One hand slid down her stomach, parting her thighs, leaving her open and wanting for you, as your lips started to travel the same path. (Y/N) stopped you though, her hands cradling your cheeks. "I need you inside me." As much as you wanted to feast on her pussy, the pleading tone in her voice had you giving in to not only her wants but yours as well.

You settled yourself between her legs, grabbing her hips and edging her just that inch or two closer. You could feel the heat radiating off her body even before your cock slid between her folds. She was deliciously wet, and being inside her felt like coming home after a two-week road trip. (Y/N) was everything. She was your shelter from the worst storm. The light when only darkness surrounded you. There was no other woman in the world that was made for you like she was, and with every thrust of your hips and every kiss from your lips, you tried to tell her that. You would articulate it all into words for her later when you were holding her in your arms, but for now, you let your body speak them for you.

Her legs started to tremble, and you could feel her fluttering around your cock, as she took you in deeper and deeper. You knew she was close and with a few more thrust, you felt her lose control. "I love you," she cried out, right as she hit that peak, and it was those words that sent you spiraling over the edge with her. Your own declaration of love spilling from your lips.

The two of you laid there for some time. Soft kisses being exchanged here and there as your breathing returned to normal. "I don't ever want to fight with you again," you told her, as your fingers trailed up and down her heated flesh.

"Me either." She agreed before kissing you soundly. "Though the makeup sex, was kind of fun."

You shook your head at her, a soft chuckle escaping you. Sex with (Y/N) was always great. "While that was pretty amazing, I'd rather not have you absent from my life and my bed for four days. I was a mess without you." Just then your stomach growled. "I haven't eaten a decent meal since this whole thing went down."

"Well then, we better feed you before you wither away to nothing." She reached over and grabbed her phone. "I'll cook for you tomorrow. Tonight, you're getting takeout and then after that, I plan on making up for lost time."

"Sounds good, but I also plan on stocking up for our days apart." You wrapped your arms around her tightly, hating the thought that she'd be leaving in just a few short days, but you knew that when you finally got back in Pittsburgh, she would be there waiting for you, this time ready to build a home with you.

#Not So Dangerous Liaison Series #Sidney Crosby #Sidney Crosby Imagine #Sidney Crosby imagines #Sidney Crosby Smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey smut

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bnhasimpgirltm · 4 years

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Why Is It That You Only Ever Hurt Me? (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

Pairings: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2130

Genre: Angst? (It seems less angsty than it should but maybe my mental angst meter is all screwed up)

A/N: I had an idea and I acted on it. I hope it’s okay. It’s a pretty common fanfic idea, but I wanted to try and write one of my own. There is a lot of yelling, but I didn’t want to use all caps for loud yelling because it’s kinda annoying to read. Reader has a quirk that allows them to manifest emotional energy into a type of physical energy (i.e. Thermal, Gravitational, Sound)

Read Part 2 HERE

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“Why are you so damn clingy all the time?” Bakugo shouted out, alerting everyone in the common room of your current situation. You had these fights with Bakugo quite often, small things that were a little bit annoying. Your ‘clingyness’ was never the topic of any of them. Usually they resolved after you both got over yourselves and apologized, but little did you know, this wasn’t going to be a small fight.

Laughing cruelly, you roll your eyes. You weren’t even being clingy, just asking him if you two could go on a date later, to which he responded that he ‘had better things to do than go out with you’. He should have been grateful that comment didn’t set you off, but of course he had to take it further and call you clingy.

Narrowing your eyes at your supposed boyfriend, you stood there with your fists clenched by your side and the muscles in your face tensed up. It was taking everything you had not to let all of your anger out at Bakugo, because if you did, your quirk would most likely injure everyone in the common room.

Breath. Slowly. Deep breath in,

1. . .

2. . .

3. . .

Exhale. Slowly. Repeat.

“Aren’t you going to say something? Or are you going to just stand there like a dumb bitch?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

You let the dam crack, just a little , and the anger dripped out like a faucet. Everyone felt it, and they were all waiting for your anger to cause your heavily emotionally based quirk to lose control.

“You know what?” Your ‘yelling’ was barely above a regular speaking voice right now. You were still trying to protect everyone else in the common room, not losing control fully. Not yet, at least.

“What? Are you going to say something about how I’m an awful boyfriend? About how I neglect you and never want to go out with you?” Bakugo has a smirk plastered on his face, and his smug look makes you want to punch him into orbit.

Your lip is still trembling, and your eyes are starting to water, the overwhelming sense of anger that you felt at the moment spilling from your eyes.

I will keep my emotions in control. I will keep my emotions in control.

You didn’t want to hurt anyone in the common room, especially not Bakugo.

Bakugo steps forward, yelling in your face, “Say something!”

“Fine!” The dam broke. Your quirk causing the anger to become thermal energy, making the room hotter than a sauna. “You’re an egocentric, self-centered, tunnel minded, asshole-”

Bakugo cut you off, starting to yell again in his deep, threatening voice.

“What the hell did you just call me?” Explosions popped in his palms, an intimidating threat to others, but to you, it was just a childish antic of his.

You humored him, starting to repeat what you said earlier. “Do I need to repeat myself? I said you were and egotis-”

He cut you off again, “It was a rhetorical question! I heard what you said the first time! God, were you always this shit brained?”

That one stung a little, but you ignored it and kept going. “Were you always this selfish?”

“You think it’s selfish of me to have a goal? At least I’m better than you! You’re just another damn extra in my way that has an incoviniently powerful quirk. You’re nothing without me,” he laughs and continues. “You’re worse than that half-and-half, icy-hot bastard. At least he uses half of his quirk. You don’t even try to use yours even half way. Maybe instead of asking me to go out again you should train so you can become more than a sidekick to a D-list hero.”

That was it. You thought that you couldn’t get any angrier, but here it was, punching you in the face, begging you to say something offensive back. Bakugo knew why you didn’t want to push your quirk to the max during training. He knew that you constantly had to worry about hurting your friends. He knew, and here he was, using it against you.

“You know exactly why I can’t push my quirk too far during training,” you say, trying to remediate the already out of hand situation, and also trying to push the anger to the back of your mind where it belonged. It suceeded, because the room slowly went back to room temperature, and the students of Class 1A in the common room visibly relaxed.

“I do know the exact reason, and you know what I think? I think it’s a load of bullshit.”

This shocked you. Bakugo was always so supportive of you and understood when you had to hold back sometimes.

“Excuse me?” You ask him, your anger reheating the room, making everyone tense again.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said it’s bullshit,” he repeats, emphasizing the ‘bullshit’ part of the sentence.

“You don’t know anything about my quirk! You don’t know how hard it is to con-” Once again he cuts you off. You should have left this conversation ten minutes ago, yet your pride wasn’t letting you. You wouldn’t let him win.

“You always whine and bitch about how hard it is to keep your quirk in control, but the only reason you can’t control it is because you’re a lazy extra who has no goals. You’re weak and a constant pain in the ass, and you’re so damn pathetic that you have to cling to me all the time because no one cares about you if I’m not there,” he scoffs and starts to turn away.

He absolutely does not get the right to walk away from this conversation.

“How could you say that about me?” You ask, tears brimming at your eyes. At this point you were more hurt than angry, but the mixed emotions running through your mind could seriously make your quirk act up.

“Because,” he stops for a moment, as if he’s thinking about his words, “I never loved you.”

Your heart shatters. Dumbfounded, you stare at him, the tears that you held back earlier escaping from your eyes and cascading like waterfalls down your face, the energy of your emotions shaking the room violently. You don’t care though.

“Was any of it real?” You ask, your voice trembling.

“None of it. You don’t mean shit to me,” he speaks at a normal volume for once, something that you wanted him to do more often.

You just didn’t think that it would be in a situation like this.

“I hope you have fun pushing people away Bakugo, because when you get to the top, you’ll realize that it’s pretty lonely up there. Maybe you’ll tell yourself that you couldn’t have both relationships and success, but just know that I would have been with you all the way.” You snap at him, but it’s oddly calm. Taking the finishing blow, you say, “You’re the weak one Bakugo. You’re too weak to show your emotions to others, to pursue things other than your goal to become the number one hero. I hope you’re happy with yourself Bakugo.”

For once, the explosive blonde didn’t have anything to say.

You walk up the stairs, taking your broken energy with you back to your room.

“Bakugo, you obviously upset (y/n). They don’t want to talk to you right now,” Jiro, your close friend, glares at him, and he glares back.

Wordlessly, Bakugo follows you up the stairs, ignoring Jiro’s statement from a minute ago, and presses his ear to your door.

You were crying. Sobbing, actually, loudly, something you never did in front of people, no one except him. Usually you could restrain your emotions, somehing that you learned as a part of your training. He heard you scream, then go back to sobbing, and decided that he needed to apologize now. Fuck giving you time to cool off, he didn’t mean anything he said. Once again, he let his anger get the best of him, and this time, the consequences were too much for him to handle.

“(Y/N), let me in,” he says, knocking at your door.

“God just fuck off Bakugo!” You yell through the door between sobs.

“I didn’t mean anything I said babe. Let’s talk this out okay?” He tries to sound kind, but it comes off as annoyed and it pisses you off to an endless extent.

“I don’t want to talk it out, go away,” you choke out.

Pushing him away was so hard for you. Every part of your heart belonged to him and it hurt so much when he tore it out and stomped the pieces on the floor. It hurt so much when he said he never loved you.

“I love you so much and I didn’t mean anything I said. I was angry for fucks sake,” he’s yelling through the door now, having a hard time keeping his emotions in check.

You swing the door open, your eyes meeting his, and you see a relieved look cross his face.

“Thank god you’re not mad at me. Let’s go on that date you talked about-”

This time you were the one who cut him off.

“I didn’t open the door so you could apologize Bakugo,” you snapped at him, making the infamous Bakugo flinch. “I opened the door so I could tell you that we’re done.”

“You’re fucking joking. Tell me you’re joking,” he yells, the attitude from earlier already rising again.

“All you do is train and pin for that spot at the top. You never were able to make time for me because you thought I would always be there to run back to you. Well news flash bitch, I’m leaving now.” The edge in your voice is tinted with a tremble, and Bakugo notices.

“You don’t fucking mean that.” Bakugo grabs your hand. “I love you so much and I know I never said it enough. I love you and I know you love me too (y/n). Please say it back.”

Bakugo had never begged for anything in his life, yet here he was, completely at your mercy.

“That’s the problem,” you start, “I love you with everything that I have, but all you do is hurt me. The fighting, the yeling, the neglect, and I still run back to you. Tell me Bakugo; Why is it that you only ever hurt me?”

There. You said it back, just not in the way he expected.

Your voice projected through the hallway, filled with agony, longing, and sadness.

He never wanted you to feel like this. He promised to protect you from these types of feelings, yet here he was, making you feel the very feelings that he vowed to protect you from.

Once again, Bakugo was speechless.

“That’s what I thought,” you begin to close the door, laughing darkly, and leaving your hollowed-out soul for Bakugo to look at as a reminder of how royally he fucked up.

As the door shut, Bakugo stood in place, staring at it for hours. When he got tired of standing, he sat with his back to the door, hearing sobs rock you for what seemed like forever

At midnight, Kirishima and the rest of the Bakusquad snuck out of the dorms and came to check on Bakugo.

There was no Bakugo in that hallway.

All they saw was a boy, a boy who had lost something so dear to him that the loss had torn him into two. A boy who had torn down his walls for someone so important to him, only to be crushed by the bricks as it all came crashing down around him. A boy who in the process of destroying the very thing that he loved, had self-destructed himself.

Little did the broken boy know that on the other side of the door, there was another person, a person more broken than he was, a person who despite their heart being torn out and stomped on by the person who they gave it to, still loved the broken boy.

Little did the broken boy know, you also had your back to the door, but you weren’t sobbing anymore, just staring off into the darkness of your room, not even bothering to turn the light on.

He didn’t know you were almost back to back with him, the only thing separating you being the thin layer of the door, until he heard you speak.

You said the same phrase that you said to him earlier, except this time, it was hollow and cold. Despite that fact, it hit the broken boy ten times harder than it did the first time.

“Why is it that you only ever hurt me?”

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achillesmonochrome · 4 years

Text

Nico is the one who’s fatal flaw is loyalty. Percy’s real flaw is holding Grudges.

Well I wanted to do a post about this for a while, and since nobody try to kill me over that post I did where I didn’t write any arguments whatsoever, I decided to do this.

First, why their fatal flaws are wrong?

Nico’s Flaw is not Grudges.

Ok, asks that feels rhetoric, but is also honest; WHEN we see Nico holding a grudge?

“Duh, he had a grudge on Percy!“

Yeah, that what we are led to believe...but we in the end now is not true.

“You are close to the truth now,” Bianca told him. “It’s not Percy you’re mad at, Nico. It’s me.” - Bianca, The Battle of the Labyrinth.

‘I had a crush on Percy,’ Nico spat. ‘That’s the truth. That’s the big secret.’ - Nico, The House of Hades.

Sure, Nico before the confession said he hated Percy, but as somebody who had a same-sex crush after living in a homophobic country and having internalized homophobia...there is A LOT of diference between hating someone because your internalized homophobia, and actually hating them.

He didn’t hate Percy, and didn’t look like holding a grudge; he is pretty nice on The Son of Neptune, despite the fact that his sister; who is going to free Death when she escaped the Underworld, is going on that quest with Percy; who last time he went on a quest with one of his sisters, she died.

If he hold a grudge or was skeptical, he would be upset about it; but nothing indicates that.

But what about Bianca? Wasn’t that the whole point of the first phrase?

Except well...the whole thing feels more like the anger from grieving than other thing. Sure, he was also mad because she left for the hunters, but also because she die and left him alone; the thing reads more about the stages of grief than he holding a grudge; specially for how it was handled.

Ok, now that we dealt with the Percy and Bianca, when else we see him holding a “grudge”?

Ehhhh...Hunters of Artemis?

It could be made a case for it, but it feels a little flimsy; for starters, it didn’t made more difficult for Nico to work with them; even if he didn’t like it, he still contacted Thalia, he requested help, and didn’t interfere when they took Reyna; even if it made him angry.

One of the reasons I’m upset about “Percy’s fatal flaw is loyalty” is that we never saw it being a problem; what exactly is the point of a flaw in a character if is never shown to have negative repercussions?

Let alone the fact that he has right to be mad. I don’t care what Will Solace said, or anybody else for that matter: Nico was ostracized; after the third book we have line after line of different people saying how creepy Nico is, of how unsettling is being around him; animals hate him, some gods disregard him, list goes on. In Heroes of Olympus we have different narrators, and even then people hold a thing against Nico; for fuck’s sake Nico went to Tartarus alone, was imprisonment and the rest of the seven (except Hazel), speak of him as if it was his fault he looks like death, without offering a lot of sympathy for the literal hell he lived.

And yet, he doesn’t hold it against them, it fact, in Blood of Olympus he describes them as the closest thing he had to friends. Despite being ostracized by the Camps (and that’s how he perceives it anyways), he is still doing his best to save them and the world.

He could hold it against society, against the gods, the people who judge him, but he does his best.

Percy’s fatal flaw is not loyalty.

“Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. You do not know when it is time to cut your losses. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world” - Athena, The Titan’s Curse.

Sorry Lady, but you are incorrect in this part, and is funny because the evidence has already been shown.

But before that, let’s remember...WHEN Percy has choose the world over a love one?

Perhaps is my bad memory talking, but I cannot remember when he decided to screw the world and save a person he loved, the closest we get is when he decides to go with Annabeth to Tartarus.

But I still find that pretty flimsy, while is true he wasn’t exactly thinking on the world when he took that decision, it was for the best: They need the seven of the prophecy, lose one of them and they are screwed, going with her was the best possibility to get both of them back and alive.

And since letting her go would had condemned the world too, is not really a decision of the world vs the love one, because either one would had the chance to fuck the world.

There was also the time in The Son of Neptune, where Annabeth asked him to stay put so she could find him, but he had a mission and preferred to do that instead of asking what not only he wanted to do, but what she wanted as well. Though I must admit, not sure if this counts as condemning the world.

Let’s go to the proof I mentioned earlier, when Percy chose the world over the person he loved the most.

Case in Point: The first Book, The lightning Thief.

I had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. I had to stop the war. - Percy, the Lightning Thief.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I'll be back. I'll find a way." - Percy, the Lightning Thief.

Honestly I consider this pretty telling; even when he mentions part of the reason was that Sally wouldn’t want Percy to sacrifice the world for her, he still chose this, he still decided it was more important to save the world than his own mother.

And honestly? If somebody should had been selfish and said “fuck the world I want my mom” was Percy at 12.

Think about it; his life is basically hell, school is horrible, he has bullies that includes even teachers, his stepfather is the absolute worst, he barely has a friend. Now his life went upside down thanks to the gods, that are mostly the reason why his life is this screw up, that are the reason he lost his mother; sure he likes Annabeth and Grover is his best friend, but Sally was literally the only good thing in his life, and he is twelve and obviously attached to his mother.

And yet, he still chose the world instead of her, even if he didn’t have a lot of friends at Camp yet, and the person he loved the most was Sally.

You could say loyalty is a flaw that he developed after, but in all honestly I cannot recall a moment when that truly shows.

Nico’s flaw is Loyalty, or more specifically: Love.

Feels even more cutesy than with Percy, right? Something that bother me about Percy’s Flaw is how little repercussions it has, is sounds more something you will give to your Gary Stue; so how having Love as a flaw is different?

Simple, Nico kills, he becomes obsessed, he wastes himself away.

Sure, is not the type of person of “If you don’t love me I will kill you”; but is the type that he would do anything for their love ones, and when I said anything, I mean anything.

He didn’t plan to kill Bryce, he saw how he hurt Reyna and was planning to ruin her life, and he went ballistic on his own. He was so obsesses with getting Bianca back, you see in his description how her death took a toll on him; and if you had read the The Tower of Nero, you know is not the only time the death of a close one had taken a toll on him.

Nico’s version of love can get ugly; if somebody told me which guy would put the world aside for a love one, I would say the one who was didn’t give an actual shit about the war between Titans and Gods first, and how he only wanted his sister back and everything else didn’t matter. The guy who was ready to risk angering his godly father for the boy he loved. The teenager who went into a rage after losing the people he loves.

I really need to say more?

Percy’s flaw: Grudges.

I will be the first to admit that this is the weakest point of my argument. While it presents some problems, it doesn’t show to be as ugly as Nico’s, but it shows more downsides that with.

Let’s start with a proof of grudges Percy holds.

Frank noticed that one person wasn’t kneeling. Percy Jackson, his sword still in hand, was glaring at the giant soldier. “You’re Ares,” Percy said. “What do you want?” - Percy, Son of Neptune.

It may look like small potatoes, and this definitely doesn’t affect negatively the situation (or not much), but it shows something: It has been years since the incident when they fought, Percy has no memories whatsoever, and he still holds a grudge on Ares. Something that is present even with the lack of his memories.

“But OP, he reacted that way because the influence of Mars!“

Except anyone else reacted that way, if I recall correctly Frank didn’t feel angry at all despite being in front of Mars; people draw their weapons because they heard a strange voice out of nowhere, not because his influence.

Now, let’s go with a big grudge he had: against Nico for “betraying” him with Hades.

Percy learned that Nico got tricked as well; he thought they would just talk and then go to the get the curse of Achilles; he broke him free despite both knowing it will anger Hades; and on top of that, he continue to be mad for months.

He had a rocky history with Nico di Angelo. The guy had once tricked him into visiting Hades’s palace, and Percy had ended up in a cell. But most of the time, Nico sided with the good guys. - Percy, the Mark of Athena.

Hey remember the part where Percy was there when Nico acted surprised that Hades didn’t respect his side of the deal and immediately went to save him? Apparently not Percy!

The consequences of this are minimal, but at least they exist.

Percy had shared some disturbing stories about Nico. His loyalties weren’t always clear. He spent more time with the dead than the living. Once, he’d lured Percy into a trap in the palace of Hades. Maybe Nico had made up for that by helping the Greeks against the Titans, but still… - Jason, House of Hades.

I cannot assure all the people who distrust of Nico on that boat is thanks to Percy, but at least is Jason; who didn’t trust in him until he literally hit a wall of reality. That was just him, the other ones didn’t.

The grudge apparently leaves when he notice Nico saved his ass by being kind to Bob and talking good about him, but it is still amazing that he hold it for this long despite having all the story.

And that doubts could had cost Nico’s life, with the amount of doubt that was on the boat and him, while not saying anything, was the closest person to Nico beside Hazel, and still didn’t try to help in the situation.

...

So here we have, my analysis of why I think their loyalties are kinda reversed; this took me like 3 days to write because my attention span is shit, so I will be surprised if this makes sense.

Hope it does.

#Heroes of Olympus #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #nico di angelo #Leor PJO Theories

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do.

pairing. jjk x named f!reader. a bit of jhs x named f!reader (but not really)?

genre + rating. rockstar!au. e2l (exes n enemies!). general flangst? anguf? a blend of angst and fluff, tbh. mainly angst tho.

tags / warnings. sibling dynamics, introspective sadness, talk about not-so-healthy relationships (obviously), dumbass!jk, asshole!jk, jealous!jk, how many more jk tags can i add?, a silly reference to scott pilgrim. nothing serious.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif aka the loml!!!

wc. 3.1k

chapter four.

You and Yoongi don’t fight. It’s always been a point of pride - something to look at and smile on.

That must be why it feels so terrible now, with his knuckles blown white and enough rage to start a war simmering within his veins. You’ve never seen him like this: a world away from your soft Yoon, your best friend, your beloved brother.

“Yoongi, really--”

“No. Stop saying that.” Despite the fact that you know his anger isn’t directed at you - that you’re the farthest target in his mind - it still hurts, like getting caught in friendly fire. Pinpricks of guilt spill across your skin, nerve endings shot to hell by the way his mouth curls and tears, venom laced between his teeth and draped across his tongue. “He came here and you didn’t tell me? I told you - I’ll kill him.”

Hyperbole, you’re sure, but you can’t help the way your heart stutters. A little oh no for a boy who doesn’t deserve it - whose silhouette still carves a spectacularly painful hole in your chest.

“I didn’t want you to worry--” It’s not an excuse. It’s not meant to be. You never lie to Yoongi. Frankly, you don’t think you could.

“You’re my sister.”

It’s enough of a rebuttal that you’re reduced to silence. He’s right. You’re family; family don’t keep secrets.

“I’m sorry,” you try again, feeble and emphatic.

There’s an unbearable distance between you - a sea’s worth of sadness that rocks the rickety boat you’ve built. You can practically see it stretching on and on, sweeping you further and further from his safe shores. It’s an awful feeling.

“You’re my sister,” he repeats, suddenly so tired you worry for him. For once, he looks that much older than you, as if five years have forced passages of experience within his pages. “You can’t hide things from me. Who’s going to be there for you if not me?”

You want to rebuff him - insist that you’re stronger than he gives you credit for - but you know it’s not what he means. More than anyone, Yoongi believes in you. He sees your strength even when you can’t see your own; he’s been that strength more times than you can count.

The reality of your situation isn’t lost on you.

He’s the only one who knows everything you’ve been through. A diary in living breathing form, full of your most shameless secrets, your deepest worries, your worst heartbreaks.

“I know.” Apology threads each syllable, stitches them neatly to each other. The sincerity is blinding, bright white and earnest. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

The smile he offers is rueful, twisting the edge of his mouth in a manner you’ve adopted over the years. You return it without thought and then, all at once, the expanse is closed. He’s laughing - a sound that doesn’t ring true in the way you know it should - but it’s a laugh and you know everything is okay.

“Still worried,” he returns with a quiet sigh and flick of his wrist.

You’re with him in a breath, curled against his side on the couch you’d cried yourself to sleep on just days ago. While you’re both far closer in size than you’ve ever been - you were always a tiny kid growing up, even against Yoongi’s own slim frame - it’s reminiscent of your childhood and being caught beneath haphazardly strewn sheets and disorganised chaos in the form of blanket forts.

Dry lips find a home against the side of your head, his arm dragging you to warmth. “You’re an idiot, you know.” He says it in the way only an older brother can - with all the frustration and love in the world.

You do know, intimately well, how idiotic you are. Have been. Seemingly always will be.

“I know,” you mumble, sad into the raised hood of your sweater. “But I made him leave.” It sounds like a child begging for praise - to be told they’ve done well. You won’t deny you need it now.

Good is the first thing Yoongi says, a little flippant and with a hard set of his jaw. More comes when he catches your expression and the way the dent forms between your brows, the tiny pout of your lips. It’s the same face you’ve made all your life - one that hits him right behind the ribs like a Whack-A-Mole game at the carnival.

“You did good, Vivi. I’m proud of you.” They’re bandages, sticky and adhesive on the stitches Jungkook’s visit had torn open. “You’re great and he’s…” There are words he’d like to use - a million scathing adjectives to paint the asshole in technicolour - but he knows better. Knows you can’t take it, at least not right now. “He doesn’t deserve you. You get that, right? You’re better off without him.”

You nod against his side but offer nothing further. The silence speaks worrying volumes.

“You’re not going to answer him again, right?”

Some half-mumbled non-committal response comes. Yoongi wants to tear his own hair out. Better yet, he wants to tear yours out. Instead, he blows a long exhale through his nose, free hand coming to scrub across his face. When will you learn?

“I’m scared.”

It’s so quiet even you hardly hear it, ear tucked against the cotton of Yoongi’s flannel. You think, for a moment, maybe he’s missed it too. Then he squeezes you a little tighter: a silent reassurance.

“Seeing him again just brings back so many memories.” Every other word is muffled but it’s the most you can do. Courage is carried quietly - too loud and you’ll shatter it. “I thought three years would be enough. It should be, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question; Yoongi still debates answering it, just for his own sake.

“Maybe he’s changed. Or maybe I’ve changed. It could be different.” It’s a clandestine belief and one you shouldn’t speak to life - especially to your brother. It spills forth of its own accord, wrong for so many reasons but begging to be asked. You have no control over it and the hope it sows somewhere within your chest.

“You can’t actually believe that.”

It’s infinitely more scathing than Hoseok’s reaction, tearing out of Yoongi’s mouth like a bullet. You can’t help the way you frown, brows drawn and lips pursed. You’ve known Yoongi your whole life. Reading between the lines feels like you’re fucking stupid but you know it’s not quite so harsh. A frustrated you dumb idiot, maybe.

“Don’t make that face.”

“I’m not making any face.”

“Yes, you are. It’s the same one you made when I embarrassed you on your first date. Also the one you made after you threw up all over Hoseok’s shoes the first night you met him.” The recollection doesn’t help your cause - you’re grimacing even more deeply, chagrin spilling into misery in the form of red hot heat over your cheeks. “Don’t resent me for being realistic, Vivi. You know he hasn’t changed.”

The silence is childish. You know that.

“You can’t fix people.”

He arrives with flowers. Two full bunches of your favourite blooms - pretty peonies in shades of coral and lavender. They’re heavy in his arms, held so gingerly it’s almost comical as he extracts himself from the vehicle he most definitely should not be driving. He wonders whether you’ll be home - if he’ll get to see your expression when he presents them to you. He hopes you’ll light up, brighter than the sun in the sky and better than any nightlight.

What he doesn’t expect is someone walking up the sidewalk, gym bag slung across his shoulder like he’s getting ready to settle in for a long night. Short - atleast a few inches shorter than himself - with a stupid face that makes Jungkook want to punch it. Dumb shoes, too. Who the fuck wears Off-White Jordan 1s in that colourway?

There’s a permanent scowl etched across his face as he watches from behind the tinted comfort of his car, single hand caught around the edge of the door. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s perhaps crushing the stems cradled in his arms, inked knuckles blown white around quickly crumpling brown paper.

Maybe he’s your neighbour. Or maybe he’s going to the other house or maybe—

No, he’s definitely walking right up the front path.

The words are out before Jungkook can stop them, shouted into the quiet afternoon more loudly than he anticipates. “Hey!”

Dumbass with the face turns, full of surprise and wandering eyes. He hesitates halfway up your stoop, looking stupider than ever as he looks around for the source of the voice.

Then his stare falls on the brunet with his hands full and it’s like a flip has switched - mouth hardening into a line that raises the hairs on the back of Jungkook’s neck. He’s glaring at him (or something close to it).

Seriously - who is this fucker?

“Can I help you?” Hoseok speaks far more reasonably, at an octave that doesn’t shatter the peace of the residential neighbourhood. He’s still caught on the steps, fist tight around the strap of his bag as he studies the man - no, boy - that jogs up to meet him, two rungs the only thing separating the two of them.

“Do you know Vira?”

A part of Hoseok flinches at Jungkook’s casual use of your name - like he knows you or deserves to address you like an old friend. This kid really was clueless.

When he speaks, he’s perfectly composed, tension held tight behind his teeth. “I said, can I help you?”

Jungkook bristles at the response, some snarky comment threatening to knock the other off his apparent high horse. He barely catches it, grinding it down into a fine powder beneath his molars. He has to tread lightly here.

“I’m a friend of hers.” Not a lie, per se. You two were friends; after all, you’d come when he’d called. That meant something, right? Had to.

“A friend?” Disbelief slips into place, evident in the tone of Hoseok’s voice, how his brows shift beneath his chestnut fringe. He knows better than to believe Jungkook - has heard all the heartbreaking stories - but he can’t quite keep the worry from worming it’s way into his thoughts. They settle uncomfortably, just beneath the surface. “Is she expecting you?”

Everything about Hoseok makes Jungkook hate him. From the sneakers he wears to the watch on his wrist - understated, all gold, more expensive than a nerd like him should have - there’s something undoubtedly punchable about him.

It certainly has nothing to do with the fact that he’s seemingly close with you. Definitely not.

“I was going to surprise her.” The flowers are held aloft, gesticulated in the best manner Jungkook can manage with his arms so full. “I didn’t know she was expecting you.” It’s a cheap tactic - recycling words - but he can’t think of much else beyond fitting his foot into this guy’s mouth.

“She’s not.” Sharp, sparse, with no hint of indulgence. Hoseok’s not about to get into a verbal sparring match with Jungkook. It’s not worth his time.

He is, however, going to put him in his place - and easily at that.

“She’s still at work.” Slim bundle of keys rise - two unassuming and one for an Audi. Perhaps unnecessary but Hoseok takes great pleasure in the other’s expression.

Tch is Jungkook’s first thought before the second smacks him straight in the face. He has a key to your place? The fact rubs him all the wrong ways despite the fact that he has no right to be bothered; it isn’t his home any more - hasn’t been in years. It still hurts, though, right behind his ribs and all the way down to the tips of his fingers.

Is this how you felt all those times?

Something like nausea builds in Jungkook’s stomach, throwing acid up the walls of his throat. It burns and strings, licking painfully all the way into his mouth. His teeth ache - buzz uncomfortably - and his tongue feels suddenly far too heavy. He wonders if he might choke on it.

Then, slowly, in a voice he doesn’t recognise. Too soft, years younger, uncertain. “Can you give these to her?” He hates it.

He hates even more the way Hosoek looks at him, with such pity Jungkook wants to curl it around his fist and break the older man’s teeth with it. It’s something he’s seen a handful of times - from you, from your brother, from his worried mother when she thinks he doesn’t notice. It never gets easier.

It forces him into a position he hasn’t been in in years: weak.

“I don’t think so.” By how calmly Hoseok speaks, it’s almost as if he’s commenting on the weather or passing along a banal bit of information. It’s far too nonchalant to be breaking Jungkook’s heart, splitting it cleanly in two.

“Why not?” Jungkook’s petulant, a child denied his favourite toy, forced into time-out.

That’s not for you screams Hoseok’s expression. She’s not for you. “I’m not comfortable with doing so.”

The sinking feeling hasn’t stopped for Jungkook. It goes and goes until he wishes he were six feet under, buried under ground as low as he feels. He should leave. He knows he should leave - if only to stop the discomfort that’s gripping every nerve, twisting them like an elbow about to snap.

“Anyway.” There’s boredom working its way into Hoseok’s stare, relaxing the shape of his mouth until it falls wide around a short, terse sigh. “If you’re friends, you can get in touch and drop them off later.”

He’s done playing gatekeeper - can feel his frustration bubbling to the surface in a way he’s not about to entertain. He nods once, dismissive, before turning away from the so-called rockstar that seems terribly small and the farthest thing from it.

“Goodbye.” Then he’s disappearing into your home, leaving Jungkook on the steps with his tail between his legs.

You return home three hours later - blissfully unaware of what’s transpired.

You set your dinner on the kitchen island, deftly unpacking takeout boxes as Hoseok hurries to your side to help. You don’t mind when he bumps into you, knocking his hip against yours with a heart-shaped smile.

It burns a little brighter than usual. “Good day?”

He hums in response, sneaking a yellow tomato from the salad box he’s just popped open. “Something like that.”

“Something like that?” You can’t help but echo him, a pretty parrot with shining eyes and a silk bow in your hair. “Don’t play coy, Jung Hoseok.” A digit closes the minimal distance between you, finding purchase against his side - right where he’s most ticklish.

He shrieks, nearly upending the fries he’s tried to dump onto a ceramic plate.

“Hey!” Hands swat, then fold, catching your fingers between his in an awkward hand-hold. “Keep your hands to yourself, Vi.”

“You don’t complain normally,” you retort. You’re not wrong. Skinship with you is one of his favourite things, fourth only to his dog, dancing, and a certain green-labelled soda.

“Well, today’s a special day.”

Hoseok really doesn’t know where he’s going with his words - only hoping that he’ll find their destination somewhere along the way. He doesn’t want to tell you too soon, all too aware of how the mention of your ex will bring this perfect moment crumbling down. He wants to hold it, perhaps a little too tightly, for as long as he can. He thinks he’s doing you a service, giving you these few extra minutes.

“Oh yeah?” You’re twinkling eyes and pealing laughter, so far removed from the bag of bones and sadness of only days prior. It’s hard to believe there’s something broken inside of there - tucked right behind your breastplate and out of sight.

“Yeah.”

You wait for him to continue, opting instead to fill the silence with mouth noises. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. He always does.

“Jungkook came by.” It comes halfway through a bite of a french fry, the carb nearly bringing you to an early death when you choke on it. All at once, everything spins, as if just the name is enough to upend your entire world. Hoseok’s clapping your back, rubbing soothing circles over the cotton of your shirt, and you’re struggling to find words or breath - heaving around the sudden heaviness.

“What?” So small, it’s hardly a word.

“He was here when I got here.” You’re not oblivious to the careful way he speaks, choosing his words with utmost care. You don’t miss his grip either, gentle and unyielding at your side - as if he might steady you beneath the sudden tidal wave of emotion.

You do well, keeping your voice level once you’ve found it again. “And? What did he want?”

Hoseok does you the great service of pretending as if he doesn’t hear the hope in your voice. You’re grateful for that.

“He came with flowers.” Not quite a laugh comes - more unimpressed and derisive than amused. “Two bouquets, actually.” You can feel him studying you from your periphery, his careful stare trained on your face and the dozen emotions that run rampant through it. “Your favourite flowers too.”

Your laugh matches his own, though far heavier, as if the sound won’t form without immense effort. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” It’s a word you’ve heard a lot tonight. It feels right. One syllable to encompass every feeling you can’t properly articulate. “He asked me to give them to you.”

It should surprise you but it doesn’t. Jungkook’s never been one to ask - instead taking what he wants - but it’s still funny. Of course he’d ask that of Hoseok, as if the act itself weren’t terribly strange, the flowers an unwelcome, begging apology. Jeon Jungkook only did what he wanted - etiquette be damned.

“I don’t see them anywhere.”

“I told him I wasn’t comfortable doing it.” There’s a touch of pride, glimmering gold painted over consonants and vowels. It’s understated in the way that Hoseok always is - not how he looks, but is; you’re drawn to it nonetheless, squeezing your fingers around his own in a silent thank you.

“I hope it wasn’t weird.” It must have been. It’s still the thought that counts.

Hoseok hams it up, scoffing like it’s just been another day. “Weird? Of course not. I have to deal with my friend’s horrible exes all the time. I’m practically Scott Pilgrim.”

“Does that make me Ramona Flowers?”

“No - but you’re my flower.” He says it in jest, only to make you smile, because he knows you need it right now.

You try not to think of how you prefer Pumpkin, instead.

tag list. @jalexad @aa-ronpa @kookiesbreaky @celestialflamefairy @xjoonchildx @pars-ley @seokjinssi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @patpus @dazedjjk @koozui @jinhitwhore @always-wishing-for-rain @neverthefirstchoice @snackhobi

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franniebanana · 3 years

Text

CQL Rewatch - Ep15

I forgot this guy’s name, Yao or something? Honestly, I don’t care enough to research this, like, at all. I hate this guy. My friend and I now refer to him as the Hype Man, so I might just call him that from now on. But I wanted to say that I didn’t realize he was in it so early, so when I saw him, I was like, “That fucking guy!!” And I also totally missed that the point of Jiang Fengmian leaving was to take this worthless piece of trash somewhere. I wish he’d died haha. But then I guess there’d be less reason to hate him, and I enjoy hating him.

I can’t believe this is the first paragraph that people are going to see. If you’re reading this now, you’re like, why do I want to read this crap? And y’know what, I can’t blame you. The next few episodes are gonna be rough. I don’t even know if there will be much to say on my end. My friend, after watching these few episodes commented something like, “Huh, that really dragged.” I could only agree, pulling my hair out from the headache these few episodes were giving me.

Okay, but seriously, Yao is so pathetic here! Talking about how he never thought they’d end up like this, and, “Oh, we were just a small clan, woe is me!” It’s amazing that he turns into the biggest prick, always right there hyping up the scapegoat-blame game rhetoric. Sorry, I hate this fucker.

A rare nice moment from Madam Yu. It was sweet having her show a caring side, packing medicine for her husband, snacks for her daughter. But of course, it was because Jiang Yanli had come to say goodbye to her earlier. Jiang Cheng is really like his mother—they can’t do anything for kindness’s sake, there’s always an obligation to the kindness.

I hate Wang Lingjiao, but I love her, and I love hating her. I’m conflicted. She’s just such a fun, evil character, more fun than Xue Yang in my opinion, probably because she actual interacts with the main characters in the story. It will forever annoy me that Xue Yang gets so much attention for appearing in a long-ass flashback (via empathy) and what should have been a flashback (Chang Clan) but wasn’t because they wanted it to be padding, I guess.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao. She’s fun, she goes completely nuts—what’s not to love about her? She’s also someone who is so similar to Madam Yu, but because she also is ambitious and wants to take over Lotus Pier, Madam Yu wants her dead. Haha!

While Madam Yu is, objectively, a horrible person, I actually really like how her bodyguards aren’t treated like servants. I like that there’s mutual respect there, as there should be when you’re talking about protecting someone. Unfortunately, I think Madam Yu treats them better than her own family in most cases. It’s cool that the Jiang Clan doesn’t rely on servants to get food and tea and whatnot. These are things that the disciples and leaders must do for themselves. By contrast, the Jins have so many servants—it’s almost obscene by comparison.

Also I want to point out how hot-headed Jiang Cheng gets here, while his mother is just cool as a cucumber. It really shows you how unready he is to actually lead (which she points out). He’s so emotional, quick to anger, yet he has none of the foundations to really lead a group of people. Even when the disciples are explaining to them what happened to the kid and the kite, it’s Wei Wuxian who is keeping everyone calm and asking the questions.

I love that his first reaction here is to insult Wang Lingjiao’s intelligence. We’re basically getting a parallel to how he reacts to Wen Chao, which is fun because you can see how his behavior hasn’t changed at all. He uses his wit in both situations and is easily able to outwit both Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao. What’s kind of interesting is that Jiang Cheng will speak up now when he wouldn’t before. And I wonder is it because he is guilty for being silent earlier with Wen Chao, or is it something else? I think ultimately Jiang Cheng blames Jin Xizuan, Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian for what happens to his parents and to Lotus Pier. Even though, logically, it would have been destroyed anyway, he still wants to place the blame on someone who he can reach. All this is to say, I don’t think Jiang Cheng regrets not speaking up at the Wen Indoctrination. So I think he feels superiority over Wang Lingjiao really because he thinks she’s a stupid woman. And duh, she is not that clever. But she is smart enough to be able to use what talents she has to get ahead. She apparently is favored over Wen Chao’s own wife (who knew he was even married—not me lol), and you have to be ambitious and have some smarts to get that far. That’s not to say that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t treat a man this way too—I think he would. I think he picks and chooses who he’ll stand up to. He’s on his own turf, she’s an invader, she’s a woman—she only brought a few henchmen, right? He’s also been charged with watching over Lotus Pier in his father’s absence. Maybe he just wants to look big for once. Just a thought. Take it or leave it.

So, I think Madam Yu is enjoying this. She’s getting two things she wants: the Wens are going to leave and she gets to beat the shit out of Wei Wuxian. She doesn’t even have to be prodded to punish him, right? She barely waits until Wang Lingjiao has finished speaking. This has something she’s wanted to do for a long time. I think she’s hit him before, yes? But she can go all out right now, since Jiang Fengmian, his only real protector, is gone.

Also Jiang Cheng! Man, he’s torn apart! He hates to see this happening to Wei Wuxian—yes, he blames him for all that shit, but he doesn’t want to see this happen to him. It’s actually harder to watch Jiang Cheng in all of this than Wei Wuxian, who mostly remains as stoic as he could possibly be while she’s whipping the shit out of him. And again here, we get Wei Wuxian telling Jiang Cheng not to interfere, because the last thing he wants is for Jiang Cheng to be penalized too. He’s fine receiving this punishment because it’s a “better me than him” kind of a thing. It’s harder to watch someone else suffer than to suffer ourselves, right? I’m like that, idk if you readers are, but I think a lot of people are like that. I mean, I’ve always been that way, but it’s been amplified since I became a parent. And not only is he accepting of being whipped by Zidian, he’s ready to lose his fucking right hand. The hand that he wields a sword with. His dominant hand. He is ready to lose it with absolutely no fuss. That’s how much Wei Wuxian cares about Lotus Pier. His response is, “I’ll have to learn how to use my left hand.” It’s a passing line, a line when you can’t even see his face—but do you get how big that is? Jiang Cheng is up there losing his mind, completely emotional, crying, yelling at his mother to stop—Wei Wuxian is just silently gritting his teeth and taking it. They’re both brave (I would not want to stand up to Madam Yu), but different kinds of brave, y’know?

I do love this part. I’m not gonna lie. Seeing Madam Yu slap Wang Lingjiao around is something that’s deeply, deeply satisfying. I guess it’s just nice to see Madam Yu’s anger turned towards an actual villain, since up until this point, it’s been directly mainly at Wei Wuxian and her own husband. I think this part is forever tainted if you know how the story goes, because Madam Yu is just on fire! But if you’ve seen this series before, which hopefully you have (otherwise spoilers abound), you know it doesn’t end well for her. I like this plot device here, making you think that the good guys are going to come out on top, and then reversing it so quickly as soon as the Core-Melting Hand shows up. One minute, you’re cheering, the next, you’re…not.

I also want to point out how quickly things reverse here as well. Jiang Cheng is trying to protect and comfort Wei Wuxian throughout this whole scene, which is something we’re definitely not used to seeing. This has always (and I mean always) been more of Lan Wangji’s thing. But in kind of a nice twist of fate, we actually see Jiang Cheng caring for Wei Wuxian. But then, boy, do things change! We see a complete reversal of this behavior—first Wei Wuxian has to be there for Jiang Cheng’s emotional state, and then his physical one. And the man does not complain about it at all.

I want to say that I didn’t cry in my first watch of CQL until episode 50. That is 100% the truth, so help me God. However, when I watched this scene in the donghua, I cried like a little bitch. Cried probably isn’t the right word—how about sobbed. I sobbed. I think because I knew it was coming when I watched CQL, it didn’t really affect me (plus my husband was right there, not paying attention, but still on the couch with me, so I tend to not cry as much when he’s around. I like to cry on my own, okay?). Having said that, the second time I saw this scene, I fucking cried, and I really didn’t stop until after they told Jiang Yanli, because that sweetheart crying makes me cry, okay? I have a really hard time watching things about children and parents, because I always think about my own parents and my own kid, so it just makes me really emotional. The idea of never seeing your parents again, especially in such a traumatic situation, at the age of what—17? That’s something I can’t even begin to imagine. In a word, horrific. Traumatic isn’t even a strong enough word to describe the emotional and mental turmoil that a teenager would be going through. But I can probably ramble about that later.

And my heart breaks for Wei Wuxian here too. Even though she hated him, even though she treated him so poorly, I’m sure he still thought of her as something akin to a mother. She was the only mother figure he had in his life who was still living, so there was definitely an attachment there (and this is proven later). Even being acknowledged by her here must mean something to him. She may hate him, but she trusts him to keep her children safe and to protect them. It’s honestly so sad.

Ugh, this is hard to watch. As a mother, the idea of sending your kid adrift when you know you’ll probably never see them again is so heartbreaking. The connection you have with your children is something that no other relationship can match, whether you physically bore your children or not. They are a part of you. Like, let’s be real, raising children is difficult—they can test your patience, make you angry, make you sad and hurt (toddlers don’t care about you, yeah, I said it)—but you love them in spite of it all. And for me, I can never really hate Madam Yu. I can find her attitude and treatment of certain individuals deplorable, but at the end of the day, she loved her children. Was she a good mom? No, probably not. But I don’t think Jiang Fengmian was a good dad either (although I think he tried a bit harder). But I think she loved A-Cheng and A-Li, and I think she trusted Wei Wuxian to protect them. I think she gave him that shred of respect at the end.

In case you’re wondering, I fucking cried through to the end of this episode. I mean, Jesus, Yanli just gets immediately thrown into another boat and tied up with her brothers, after finding out that her mother might be dead already, and then her dad abandons them too. I just can’t.

I’m sorry this was short (maybe I’m not sorry, depending on how much you like the episode). I’m going to try and knock out more than one episode per week because I just don’t have a lot to say. These are mainly getting through the plot episodes, if you know what I mean.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |

#wei wuxian #jiang cheng #cql #the untamed #jiang yanli #jiang fengmian #madam yu #wen zhuliu #core-melting hand #wang lingjiao #jiaojiao #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #cql rewatch #wwx

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

Text

Banished (Part 53)

~Banished~

Word Count: 9.2K

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x08 of the 100, God Complex*

*Bold/Italics are Trig!*

Previously…

“Emori, who is he?” He asked with a slight urgency.

“Someone other than me who’s going into that oven.” She said with zero remorse.

Murphy’s smirk slowly came to his face as he understood what Emori done. “Now that is a survivor’s move.” He said proudly. If this worked and ‘Baylis’ survived, then humanity survives, but if he doesn’t, then it wasn’t Emori. In his eyes, it was brilliant.

But you, who stood right below them and in the perfect spot to overhear, were seething. Emori played all of you, but she played you the most. Sure, the story she gave you about being banished was true, but this man had no part in it at all.

The only crime he’s done was break into the house to feed his family and he was going to die for it.

And it had been your call.

---

You still hadn’t told anyone what you overheard Emori and Murphy talk about during Baylis’ injection but you weren’t sure why. If this didn’t work and Baylis died, wouldn’t it be your fault? But if he survived…

No one would have to know.

Being desperate at a time like this was hard, you had to save the world, but at what cost? Baylis was sealed in the radiation chamber and you watched as Abby checked his vitals for what seemed like the millionth time. You stood back, keeping everyone in your line of sight, but the glare on your face was directed mainly at the couple in the room, John and Emori standing off to the side and pretending to be upset over the man.

Liars.

“He’s ready.” Jackson told Abby, but everyone listened in. You brought your knuckle to your mouth, biting softly to keep the secret inside you.

“But are we ready?” Raven asked as she looked around the room, you refused to look away from Emori and Murphy, not risking the temptation to spill.

“The guy’s a monster!” Emori yelled out and Murphy grabbed her to keep her back, keeping up their act as your stomach twisted.

Clarke turned around, seeing her ‘anger’ before she spoke to everyone. “We’ve been over this. None of us wants to do this, but the death wave will be here in 10 days.” She reminded and you took a breath, finally looking away to Clarke. “Luna’s cells grafted successfully and Baylis is making Nightblood on his own. This really is our only hope.”

Murphy groaned, throwing his head back slightly. “Are we really still talking about this? The Black rain is already here and 18 people died in it yesterday at Arkadia. If Nightblood can let us walk around in it, I, for one, wanna know.”

A silence fell amongst the room as they thought about Murphy’s words. Clarke looked to you, and you faltered before nodding. She nodded back before her mother and Jackson began. You slowly crept across the room to Murphy and Emori, standing next to them as the machine turned on. Noticing your arrival, Murphy gave you a look. “For the sake of your humanity, you better hope he survives.” You whispered as Emori and Murphy’s faces fell and Emori was now glaring at you. You met her stare with a stone-cold one of your own. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your little secret.” Your eyes flickered up to Murphy’s whose jaw was locked and he was making sure no one listened in as you walked away, moving to stand next to Raven. Murphy and Emori shared a look, Emori’s a look of action before Murphy shook his head, letting his girlfriend know you wouldn’t say anything.

Jackson turned on the chamber and the process started, exposing the intruder to radiation. When he was exposed to enough radiation a non-Nightblood would react, he was fine and you were beginning to believe this might work. Jackson kept turning the dial, more and more, and more until Baylis’ vitals spiked suddenly. The machine started beeping and your blood ran cold. Clarke was leaning close to Baylis, looking right through the chamber's glass as she watched the radiation start to break out on his skin.

“Turn it off!” Clarke shouted and Raven grabbed your hand, holding tightly and you weren’t going to let go. Baylis woke up and you could do nothing but watch as he screams in agony.

“Get him out of there!” You yelled and Abby pushed her way past the equipment, trying to let Baylis free but Jackson wouldn’t let her.

“It’s too dangerous!” He yelled. No one could help him now. His screams turned to coughs as the blood filled his mouth and Baylis tried to cough it out, unable to breathe with the burns and blood pooling in his throat. He spat up the blood, lining the chamber and no one wanted to watch this man in pain, even if he had done the horrid things Emori claimed. The flatline on the machine echoed in your ears as it went off, meaning the man died. The man died and you didn’t stop it.

“What have we done?” Abby gasped out and no one had an answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the recently decease test subject, the guilt hanging high in your head as you slowly turned around, meeting Murphy’s eyes right away as he rubbed Emori’s back, keeping her from looking at the man she indirectly killed. Murphy didn’t break eye contact with you, both of you acknowledging how messed up this was.

What have you done?

---

With 18 lives taken from the black rain’s arrival, Arkadia hosted a funeral for them. A pyre was made in the middle of the camp as people gathered around, bodies all 18 of the dead laying on top, waiting for the eventual burning. Jaha was speaking to the crowd, everyone listening to his speech as they watched in sadness. Bellamy stood in the back, trying to keep himself strong despite thinking two of those bodies, Mark and Peter Colton, were there because of him.

Jaha took the torch he was holding, letting it fall on the pyre as Jasper, not showing a care in the world, walked past Bellamy and towards the front gate. “Too many funerals, too little time.” Jasper mumbled to Bellamy who glared.

“Show some respect for the dead.” Bellamy chastised him as Jasper kept walking, only turning around briefly.

“Why? I’m sure they don’t mind.” He said as Bellamy watched him, furrowing his brows as Jasper tried to leave the camp with no bag, meaning no protection.

“Where are you going?”

Again, Jasper turned around but kept walking as he shrugged. “Wherever the day takes me.”

“You got a chem tent?” Bellamy called after but Jasper said no, confirming Bellamy’s suspicions. Bellamy took off after him, not letting his friend leave the camp. “No one leaves without a chem tent!”

“Do you have chem tent?” Jasper asked Bellamy to which he received a yes. Jasper smirked. “Then we have a chem tent.”

Not wanting to deal with Jasper today, Bellamy grabbed Jasper's arm, keeping him from reaching the front gate. “Maybe you didn’t see how those people died.” Bellamy tried to get Jasper to understand, but the younger boy just looked back at the still going funeral.

“I saw; I’m just not afraid.” Jasper whispered before pulling from Bellamy’s grip and continuing his walk. Bellamy tried to stop him again, needlessly reminding him it wasn’t safe as Jasper chuckled under his breath. “What else is new?” He asked rhetorically, opening the gate as Bellamy watched on. “Come on!” Jasper called back. “We’re losing daylight.”

Bellamy shook his head but Jasper didn’t listen when he rolled his eyes and took off, Bellamy calling after him as he ran to follow. “Damn it, grow the hell up.”

Jasper smiled; his plan successful. “Good, you’re coming.”

“Yeah, only because I don’t want to carry your body in a bag.”

“Hey, I’m light.” Jasper joked, making Bellamy sigh in annoyance. “I’m wiry, but I’m light.”

“Kom graun, oso na graun op. Kom folau, oso na gyon op.” Niylah spoke softly as she sprinkled dirt onto the deceased, merging her grounder customs into Skaikru. Harper slowly approached her, her brows drawn together as she put a hand on Niylah’s back.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered to her, making Niylah nod. “What does it mean?”

Niylah smiled at her. “From the earth, we will grow. From the ashes, we will rise.”

Jaha was listening in, his head almost snapping around as Niylah spoke the words that had been taking up far too much of his thoughts.

From the ashes, we will rise.

“What did you just say?” He asked, needing Niylah to elaborate as he input himself into the conversation. Niylah was unsure what he was referring to, apologizing for her prayer for the dead as Jaha stopped her. “’From the ashes, we will rise.’ Where does that come from?”

She shook her head. “You’d have to ask a Fleimkepa. All I know is it’s what we say to ready our dead for the fire.” Jaha nodded, letting the woman get back to her prayers as he considered his options, and what he needs to do to speak with a Fleimkepa and verify the connection between the second dawn bunker and the grounders.

Jaha found his opportunity, taking the medallion Bellamy, you and he found to Kane, trying to convince Kane as chancellor. “It’s not a coincidence, Marcus. I need to speak with the Fleimkepa.”

“You already found the second dawn bunker.” Kane reminded his friend, knowing last time Jaha thought he was on to something, all you found was a bunker of death. “It was-“

“It was the wrong bunker.” Jaha interrupted him. “Cadogan said only those who reached level 12 would be saved.” He shoved the medal forward, Kane moving his head to see when Jaha pointed to the roman numeral on front. “This is level 11. What I found was a decoy, built to keep the level 12 bunker from being overrun.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Kane stopped him, not believing Jaha’s story.

“It’s what I would do.”

Kane smiled through his disbelief. “And you think Indra’s daughter knows where the current bunker is?”

“I think there’s a reason ‘From the ashes, we will rise’ became a grounder prayer.” Jaha insisted, knowing for a fact he was getting onto something. “Just like I think there’s a reason that a corporate logo became their sacred symbol.”

“The infinity sign.” Kane breathed out, slowly realizing despite not wanting too, that Jaha might be getting at something. “I can reach out to Indra. She might know where Gaia is.” Kane finally agreed.

Jaha was quick to stand, wanting to get going as soon as he could. “I’ll assemble a team.” He offered but Kane didn’t let Jaha leave.

“Thelonious, wait.” Kane called out. “Polis is a war zone. We won’t be welcome there.” Kane mumbled, knowing of the grounders disdain for Skaikru.

“We travel light.” Jaha assured him. “For this, we’ll need thinkers, not fighters.” Jaha was already putting together a team in his head.

Monty was packing in his room as Harper entered, stopping at the doorframe as she watched her boyfriend. “What’s going on?”

Monty hesitated, looking at the food packs in his hands before back up at her. “Kane and Jaha need an engineer for a mission.”

“Kane and Jaha!” Harper laughed sourly and Monty knew something was wrong. “Well looks like someone’s moving up in the world.” She patted Monty on the back as she entered the room and her voice wavered. “It’s just too bad in 10 days there’s not going to be a world to move up in.”

Monty stopped his packing, immediately turning in front of Harper. His hand went to her waist as his other lifted her chin delicately to look in her face. “How much have you had to drink?”

Harper stared softly into his eyes, whispering her words as the alcohol no doubt made her feel amazing. “Just the right amount.” She grabbed onto Monty’s collar, pulling his body into hers and wrapping her arms around his neck as she landed a sloppy kiss on his lips. Monty got lost in the feeling, kissing her back and grabbing her cheeks before pushing himself back, remembering she was drunk and he had a job. Harper let out a defeated sigh when Monty mumbled her name. “Duty calls.” She scoffed before pushing past, Monty grabbing her arm before she got far.

He cupped her cheeks again, rubbing his thumb across her skin to comfort her. “We will find a way to get through this.” He assured her. Harper nodded slowly before pecking his lips with her, their forehead resting together briefly before Monty sighed. “I have to go.”

“So, go.” Harper said. “I’ll be here if you get back.” Monty’s face fell at Harper’s words and she caught her mistake, her eyes widening slightly. “When. I meant when.” She fixed and Monty nodded again, giving her a final, definitely not their last, kiss.

---

After the intruders’ death, the moral around the lab had gone down tremendously, everyone was standing around staring at the path of the radiation on the big screen, its final days scaring everyone more and more. You took it upon yourself to clean out the bloodied radiation chamber, and the more you scrubbed, the more you felt you were scrubbing away your guilt, but neither the blood nor the guilt was going away. The blood just covered your hands and stained your skin.

Luna slowly moved to stand next to you, picking up beads Clarke had taken off Baylis’ neck before his body was removed. “The stones of his ancestors.” Luna mumbled as she held them in her hand, looking at you who stopped cleaning. You stared at the stones and cursed in your head. Those stones were going to damn you, wouldn’t they?

You were so focused on the stones, you weren’t even aware of Clarke leaving your side, wanting to listen in on Jackson and Abby talk. Jackson had been trying to figure out why the man died, and he might’ve figured it out. “Sodium polyphenol sulfonate.” He told Clarke after she asked what he found. “It’s an additive used to prevent clotting. It looks like the radiation had broken it down and caused a chain reaction.”

“What happens if we remove it?” Clarke asked and it was then your attention was pulled away to her.

“We could save everyone.”

Your jaw slacked slightly at Abby’s words before you dropped the rag you were using. “You could save everyone?” you clarified and Abby nodded.

Everyone was listening in, hopeful in fixing the cure as Murphy stepped forward. “So, you’re saying this could still work.”

Again Abby nodded, the room falling quiet upon the revelation as you bit your lip. “But you’d need to test it.” Your words served as a reminder that things weren’t just going to be perfect. “The last guy died. I have his blood literally on my hands and you want to try it again?”

“Please give us another idea, Y/N.” you scoffed, looking around the room to see if anyone was on your side. Raven seemed to be, Luna too. Roan kept his glance at the floor completely unreadable and Emori and Murphy- well, you knew what side they were on.

Again, Murphy was the one to speak up. “So we just go out there and hunt for someone else?”

“No!” you yelled and Clarke gave you a sad look.

“No one’s going anywhere in this storm.” Miller shut down Murphy’s idea, looking to the storm moving steadily on the screen.

“Then we wait for it to pass.” Murphy suggested again, trying to come up with any ideas to protect his girl.

You were surprised when Roan finally decided to speak up. “When it does there might not be anyone to hunt for.” He said and you narrowed your eyes, trying to decide what side he was on. You didn’t suspect it was yours.

Luna scoffed as she listened to your people bicker, unimpressed by the suggestions coming out. “What’s the matter with you people? Even Baylis honored the dead.” She held up the stones and your nerves escalated and you brought a hand up to your mouth, trying to hide your nervous breaths as you looked to John and Emori, seeing Emori’s eyes widen. “He wore the stones of his Rock Line ancestors. Who will honor him?”

“Wait.” Clarke mumbled, turning to you to see your eyes piercing at Emori, although she figured you staring at the stones. “Baylis was Sangedakru.”

“He was.” Emori said in defiance, noticing your gaze quickly before looking away in fake disgust. “He was also a thief and probably stole those stones.”

It was a good lie, you’d give her that, but something tells you it wasn’t going to last long. “A thief who doesn’t bear the mark of Sangedakru.” Roan muttered. Everyone was trying to figure out the lie as you and John locked eyes, his full of worry but you didn’t do anything.

They dug their graves, what’s the point in dug yours too?

“That wasn’t Baylis, was it?” Clarke growled at Emori who took a small step back in fear, grabbing Murphy’s arm.

Murphy let out a laugh, needing to keep up the guise they’ve made. “Come on Clarke. That’s crazy, of course-“

“Who did we just kill?” Clarke yelled at him, her lip trembling as she fully came to terms what happened. Everyone was looking to Emori and John and without another word, Emori took off running straight towards you. Your eyes widened slightly before you realized she was looking past you. She grabbed the IV pole standing next to the Chamber as everyone shouted her name. She didn’t get far before Roan had stopped her, holding a knife to her neck as you just stood there, feeling like crap because you had been on the wrong side. Emori yelled at John, telling him to take out the machine before you grabbed the pole from her and set it down, ignoring the death glare she was giving you.

Murphy tried to help her, but Miller put a gun to his head, not letting him get any closer as Emori struggled in Roan’s grip. “Looks like we know who’s next.” He said and you gulped, looking towards Clarke and seeing the look of terror on her face. Whatever happens next, it’s not going to be good.

---

The sun had long set since Bellamy and Jasper left Arkadia, the quiet night in the woods causing Jasper to sigh happily. “I know it’s bad and everyone is dying and all but I’m gonna say it. I don’t miss the mosquitoes.”

Bellamy scoffed at Jasper’s attitude. “This is all a big joke to you, isn’t it?” He asked, furious with how Jasper had been acting. The world was ending and Jasper didn’t have a care in the world.

“Now you’re getting it!” Jasper shouted back to Bellamy, not slowing his walking as he shined this flashlight through the tree lines. “One big cosmic joke and you’d realized that if you pulled the stick out of your ass.”

Bellamy had had it. He grabbed Jasper's arm, getting him to look at an angry Bellamy. “That’s enough.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

Bellamy’s lip pulled back in an irritated smile. “You’re trying to help me? That’s funny. We’re leaving. Now.” He ordered but Jasper had no plans on turning around.

“Damn it, open your eyes!” He yelled at Bellamy, getting him to stop leaving. “The clock is ticking and it has been since we landed on this terrible, beautiful planet. We’re living on borrowed time.”

Bellamy bit his tongue, not holding back his explosion as he headed back to Jasper. “If you know that, then why are you throwing it all away?”

“I’m not.” Jasper whispered to him, a smile lining his face briefly. “You are.” Bellamy let out a laugh, not believing Jasper’s thoughts. “What’s the point in beating yourself up over all the crappy things you’ve done? You did them!” he yelled, making Bellamy grit his teeth. “Don’t say you had reasons because, at the end of the day and the end of the world, nobody gives a damn about your reasons.” Bellamy didn’t want to but he was listening, feeling the guilt of his decisions still eating away at him. “No matter how much you punish yourself, it's not going to change anything. It’s not going to bring anyone back.” Jasper’s attitude had shifted completely from before, the thoughts of his own demons, of Maya, surfacing in his speech as he took a deep breath. “The way I see it, we can spend our last days wallowing in our reasons or we can do whatever the hell we want!” A laugh bubbled out of his lips as Bellamy’s eyes narrowed. “Really mean it this time.” He nodded his head to the stump next to Bellamy, a smile stretching on his face. “Magic Beans.” Bellamy turned, seeing the stump as Jasper shined the flashlight onto it.

“Hallucinogenic nuts.” Bellamy mumbled in disbelief of Jasper. “That’s why you dragged me out here?” He shook his head, remembering vividly of his first and last time he ate those nuts, the deaths of floated Arkers forever on Bellamy’s list of ‘crappy things he’s done’. “If you think I’m taking those again, you really are crazy.”

Jasper shrugged and pulled out a knife. “Whatever the hell you want.” He told his once rebel king before cutting the jobi nuts free and stuffing them in a bag.

---

After Emori’s lie came to light, everyone was against them. They handcuffed them to the rocket, but you stayed back, watching from afar and wondering if you deserved to be locked with them as well. At least you weren’t the one to construe a lie that killed a man.

Emori looked defeated, but Murphy was becoming hysterical, pulling on his restraints as he begged. “She was trying to save her own life! We’re not going to touch your stupid machine!” He kept pleading, calling out names and begging for everyone to listen as Clarke closed the launched doors, sealing them away from you all.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering putting Emori in that chamber.” Raven asked as everyone made way from the rocket, solemn faces across all of them.

Clarke hesitated to answer her before turning to her mom. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“There’s nothing else to do.” Roan cut her off, knowing what needs to be done. You clenched your fists softly. “We all know it.”

“Abby,” Raven blurted out, trying to appeal to Abby’s humanity. “There has to be something that doesn’t make us murderers.”

“Jackson and I examined every possibility. The only thing we know for sure is that if we do nothing, we die.”

“And we don’t want that.” You spoke out, eyes on the ground as everyone turned to you.

Abby shook her head. “No, we don’t.” She turned to Jackson and took a deep breath. “Prep Luna for the next extraction.”

“No.” Luna said, gaining looks of confusion from the doctors in the room. “You’ve taken enough.”

“Luna it’s okay, we’ll sedate you.”

“I said no.” She repeated herself, growing angry at Abby’s insistence. “I won’t allow my blood to kill any more innocent people.”

On the inside, you were relieved. Luna wouldn’t donate blood, Emori wouldn’t die. That was good.

“Luna please.” Clarke started begging. “Your blood is the only thing that can save us.”

“My blood is a curse.” She spat at Clarke, disgusted in how they wanted to use her. “It will however keep you from following me out in the rain.” Her foot dragged behind her as she walked past the group, trying to head the door outside despite Abby’s protests of her hip injury.

Roan stepped in front of her, keeping her at bay. “We can’t let you leave.”

Luna scoffed and turned to Clarke. “Is there no line you won’t cross in order to survive?”

“Survival requires sacrifice.” Roan spoke up. “If the freikdreina dies-“

“Don’t call her that.” Raven spat out, stopping Roan from using the derogatory term.

Roan stopped, listening to Raven’s order. “If she dies saving the world, that’s a good death.” Luna still had no plans to stick around, not caring if the world died because maybe humanity is already dead. “I don’t want to fight you. You’re wounded.”

“You have no choice.” Luna reminded him before turning and kicking into his chest. Roan flew backward into a cart, making you jump from the sudden attack as you weren’t expecting it. The attack hurt Luna more than she already was as she limped back and put her hands up. Roan got to his feet and you watched terrified of the ending in this fight.

Roan approached her, his fist up but he didn’t use them. Instead, he kicked her knee out, sending Luna to the ground in a cry of pain as Roan wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and held Luna against her struggles as she passed out, no longer thrashing about in his arms. “Sleep well, natblida.” He whispered in her ear. You watched on, a sickening feeling in your stomach taking you from the room as you ran past Roan and Luna and up the stairs. No one said a thing until you were gone and Roan lifted Luna in the air.

He brought her to the table, laying it across as Raven scoffed. “So, what now? You strap her down and steal her bone marrow?” Clarke met Raven’s eyes, unsure of what to say. “Welcome to Mount Weather.”

---

Polis was quiet as Jaha, Kane, and Monty walked up and bodies laid across the courtyard, radiation burns covering their bodies as the trio looked around. “Black rain.” Kane sighed as he kept moving forward. “It fell here, too.”

Once the three men cleared the dead bodies, a bird call echoed through the courtyard, stopping Kane, Jaha, and Monty in their tracks as they prepared for an attack. Popping up from the shambles of Polis, grounders pointed their weapons to them and Indra appeared, marching towards them as Kane let out a breath of relief.

“I thought she was your friend.” Jaha mumbled not at all feeling the comfort Kane had.

“She is. That’s why we’re still alive.” Kane started towards her as well, telling Monty to put his weapon down as he followed the order. Kane met Indra halfway between the groups as he smiled. “Thank you for meeting me. I didn’t know if you would.”

As soon as his sentence was finished, Indra punched him in the face, sending Kane stumbling backward before he regained his footing, sending her a confused look. “Don’t smile at me Kane.” She growled. “What do you want? You have 30 seconds, after that, as the enemy of my enemy, you are my enemy.”

Kane shook his head, easing his way softly. “Indra, you have to know that we had nothing to do with the attacks on your land or embassy.”

Indra stopped him, not wanting to hear the excuses. “What I know is Azgeda marched on Arkadia and you made another alliance with them to save your people, not mine.”

“I know how it looks, but believe me, we’re still trying to find a way to save everyone.” Indra shook her head, calling Kane a fool before retreating and Kane called after her. “You’re fighting for a city that won’t exist in 10 days. The radiation doesn’t care if you’re Trikru or Azgeda. If we can’t come together to fight this enemy, then what hope is there for us?”

Indra stopped walking, looking over her shoulder. “The only hope we ever have. To die a warriors death.” She started walking again and Kane was losing his chance.

“Indra wait, we need to speak to your daughter!” He called out. “She can be the one that saves us all!”

Indra stopped again, turning completely to face Kane, unsure whether she should believe it. “How?”

Gaia was praying to the commanders and the flame as she was interrupted. Indra rushed to her with Kane, Monty, and Jaha behind her. “Gaia, these men need your help.”

Gaia stood grounded, unsure of what was happening but Monty caught sight of her arm, his eyes furrowing. “You tattoo. In the center.”

Jaha took a look, glancing from the tattoo to the medallion in his hand that had the same symbol. “Still think it’s a coincidence?” he asked Kane who stayed silent.

Gaia looked down at the symbol on the metal before taking it from Jaha. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it.” Jaha told her, earning a slight gasp of disbelief from the girl. “Now I believe it’s so it could lead me to you.”

Monty spoke up, breaking the shock silence that came over the room as he asked where the symbol came from. “It’s the holy symbol of our order.”

“Mother.”

“Gaia please.” Kane interrupted her, needing to keep on track. “Skaikru helped you protect the Flame. Help us now.”

Gaia hesitated before agreeing. “It adorns the crypt of the first commander, Bekka Pramheda.” Jaha’s hypothesis was the crypt was in fact the bunker, and they needed to know where it was. There was one problem, however. The bunker was in the temple which was controlled by Azgeda just like the tunnels were.

If they wanted to get into the temple, they’d have to put their faith in the alliance.

---

After you left the lab, you headed over to Becca’s office, the giant window wall providing you the perfect viewing of Luna sedated on the exam table as Clarke, Abby, and Raven stood around having a short conversation you couldn’t hear. You sunk to the floor, leaning your head back on the glass with your eyes closed.

Everything was so fucked. Murphy and Emori were practically screwed and you…

There was a knock on the door to the office as your head rolled over, seeing Roan opening it and lean in the door frame. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded and gave him a thumbs-up before slowly rising to your feet as Roan let the door close and joined you in the room. “Nightbloods. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson after Lexa.”

You let out a chuckle as he stood next to you. “Don’t beat yourself up over that. She beat my ass more times than I could count.” Roan chuckled as well, a smile spreading on his face that somehow cheered you up slightly.

Your new smile however had faded as you looked out the window, seeing Clarke comforting Abby. Roan sighed. “We’re doing the right thing.”

“Are you certain about that?” you laughed slightly bitter.

Roan raised a brow at you but you weren’t looking at him, too focused on your friend and her mother. “Certainty’s a luxury that leaders can’t afford.” He reminded you and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a leader. Clarke’s the leader.” You told him, turning away finally to look at him instead of Clarke. “I’m just the girl too crazy to die.”

Roan nodded, raising his brows to show he agreed. “Sometimes we need crazy.”

“No one needs the crazy, Roan.” You sighed out, leaning against the wall. “You know, back before everything with the grounders when I was just Skaikiler, I didn’t kill unless I had to.”

“I know.”

“Then what am I doing now?” You blurted out before closing your eyes and sighing. “I’m sorry. I just wish there was something I could do.”

Roan nodded his head, looking down to Clarke much like you had been doing. “One day what they’re doing here will be worth it.”

You didn’t turn to look out, instead moving and leaving Roan by the window as your head drooped. “Hopefully I’ll live to see it.” You mumbled, getting Roan to turn around.

“What do you mean?” He asked, having overheard your mutter despite your low voice.

“Nothing.” You let out a sigh, licking your lip before sucking in a breath. “I just think I’m about to do something crazy.”

---

The 5 of them in Polis made their way to the Temple, keeping an eye out for Azgeda they finally ran into. “It’s okay!” Kane shouted after they were commanded not to move with weapons drawn on them. He reached into his pocket to grab the seal Roan gave Skaikru as he held it up, showing them they meant no harm. Azgeda emerged from the city’s rubbles, making Indra’s nerves spike. “Keep your head down.” Kane muttered to his people. “They’ll let us pass.” The ice nation came closer as Kane turned his attention to them and everyone put their weapons on the ground. “I’m the Skaikru Chancellor. As your ally, we seek safe passage into the temple.”

There was some shouting from Azgeda as the seal was taken from them and Azgeda was planning on letting them go. Indra, however, had other plans. When the man in front of her turned his back on them, she picked up Kane’s gun, opening fire and killing every Azgeda man she saw.

Kane was shocked, his eyes widening as he yelled at her but Indra wouldn’t hear of it. “If there’s a bunker in there, Azgeda will never see the inside.” She walked past him, leaving him standing there with his mouth open.

“Come on, Marcus. It’s not our war.” Jaha reminded Kane as he picked up the seal off the ground and handed it to Kane.

“Roan will think we did this.” Monty pointed out as Kane stared at the now slightly bloodied seal. Everyone followed after Indra, keeping pace as they entered the temple and Indra promised Echo would be sending reinforcements against them.

“It’s beneath the alter.” Gaia told them, pointing in the direction as Jaha moved slowly, pulling back pieces and scraps of metal before he found what he was searching for. Everyone helped move the coverings now, the salvation just in front of them.

There was an inscription on the bunkers seal, the symbol sitting pretty in the middle as Gaia translated. “Salvation lies within.” She told them, moving back to sit up. “We were taught it referred to the ship that brought her to us.”

“How do we open it?”

“Like every other lock, Mr. Green.” Jaha reached into his pocket, pulling out the medallion. “With a key.” He moved to place the piece in the hole of the lock, but it didn’t fit. “No.” He whispered, keeping up his tries to get it to fit as everyone looked on impatiently.

“Can you open it or not?” Indra asked but Jaha didn’t answer.

“We need more time.” Kane said before looking to the woman. “Can you reposition your army at the temple?”

“If I do that, we lose the tower.”

“The tower won’t save you.” Jaha told her, refusing to stop his attempts at fitting the piece in.

Indra glared at him. “Neither will ashes of the first commander if that’s all that’s down there.” Gaia pleads with her mother, wanting to believe in the commanders saving them. “I’ll move my guard detail to the temple door. Buy you some time.” She relented before looking at the weapon on Monty’s arm. “But I’ll need your guns.”

Kane didn’t give her them, looking at her incredulously before Jaha groaned. “Just give her the damn guns, Marcus.” Kane nodded as Monty and he handed over the guns to her, helping her carrying them on her shoulder. Gaia started reading the inscription again, running her hands over the crypt’s lock.

Kane pulled out the last handgun he had, passing it to Indra. “I fear jus drein, jus draun will be the end of us all.”

Indra swallowed with her nod, looking to her daughter and calling her name out. Gaia turned to look at her, seeing the guns loaded on her mother. “It would seem you should keep praying.” Gaia nodded before looking back to the crypt, closing her eyes and beginning her prayers again.

---

Music was playing loudly through Arkadia as Bellamy and Jasper returned, the younger boy spirits lifting as he walked inside. “Got it started without us.”

“Got what started?” Bellamy knotted his brows as he followed behind Jasper, confused as to what he was walking into before he saw the party the younger Arkadians had thrown and he stopped with a sigh. “Have fun.”

Jasper looked at him then to the party then back, nodding his head to get Bellamy to follow. “Come on.” He said but Bellamy didn’t move. Jasper rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s gonna die, Bellamy. We can go out like them,” he paused, gesturing over to the group of older men and women sitting around worrying before walking to the much more fun side of the Ark, “Or like us. The ending’s the same, but who says the journey has to suck?” He turned away from Bellamy, skipping over to the group and holding the bag of Jobi nuts in the air. “I come bearing fruit!”

The crowd cheered at Jasper's arrival and Jasper threw them to Niylah who made tea from them. Bellamy stood back, looking around the ark and between the two groups. He wasn’t paying attention as a girl named Bree approached him, getting far too close for his comfort.

“Wanna dance?” She asked, giving him a smile and Bellamy put his hands on her shoulder, gently pushing her away to separate.

“I don’t dance.” He told her.

Bree wasn’t going to let him go. She came closer again, grabbing Bellamy’s jacket to keep herself close. “I don’t really want to dance.” She whispered under her breath and Bellamy let out a small laugh, grabbing her hands to release her hold.

“I have a girlfriend.” He told her, smiling at the thought of you after the day he had. “I don’t really have any plans to dance with anyone else but her anymore.” He said and Bree sighed, wanting to try again but a hand landed on her shoulder. Both she and Bellamy looked up, seeing Jasper standing behind her before he nodded back towards the party and Bree gave up, sending Bellamy a wink before retreating.

“Girlfriend?” Jasper smirked at Bellamy, who pursed his lips, grateful for Bree’s absence. “Didn’t know it was official.” He teased and Bellamy chuckled under his breath. He started to walk away before turning around, pretending to pull Bellamy by an invisible rope. “Come on! You know Y/N would join us!” Jasper called out, not caring whether you would or wouldn’t as he roped Bellamy in. Bellamy sighed, shaking his head and knowing now he’d need a distraction or he’d be stuck missing you all night. He took the first step towards the party and Jasper cheered, throwing his hands up in the air as Bellamy caught up. “Let someone else save the world for once!”

Bellamy nodded, taking the cup that was held out for him and taking a sip, tasting the Jobi Nut tea before he was prepared and downed the rest of the cup, feeling the burn before he smiled.

---

Still handcuffed to the rocket, Murphy was trying his best to untie himself, biting and pulling on his handcuffs as hard as he could. Emori was accepting her fate, telling John to stop. “No Emori, I’m not letting this happen to you.”

“You have to.” She whispered, finally looking into Murphy’s eyes. “John listen to me.” She moved as close to him as she could, being handcuffed. “Make them think you’re okay with this. We can make Clarke think you’re still with her.”

Murphy shook his head, not wanting to agree with Emori’s plan. “I’ll kill her if she thinks about hurting-“

“Damn it John!” Emori yelled at him, her voice cracking. “Think! Don’t give them a reason to pick you out next. Survive, please.” She begged and Murphy didn’t want to want to agree but he didn’t have time to tell her.

The launch door opening to show you and Clarke side by side with Miller and Roan behind you both for protection. Murphy and Emori were still looking at each other as you held your breath, hearing Clarke tell them it was time for you to take Emori. Murphy immediately started begging for her life and you refused to look up at him.

“It’ll work this time.” Clarke’s empty promises did nothing to assure Murphy or Emori, or even you.

“How about we just go with that and forget the test?” Emori asked and Clarke gave her a sympathetic look.

You finally looked up, seeing her red-rimmed eyes lined with previously shed tears as that stomach-dropping feeling came back to you. Clarke nodded her head to Miller who pulled out a syringe and sedated Emori, catching her in his arms as Murphy started pleading to him and telling him that he didn’t have to do this but Miller knew it wasn’t true.

Miller carried Emori out of the room, Roan going with him until it was just you and Clarke. She looked at you, but you just stared at Murphy, your face neutral as Murphy yelled. “You don’t have to do this!”

Not wanting this to go the wrong way, you put a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, nodding away from Murphy. “Go. I’ve got him.” Clarke hesitated before nodding, sparing a last glance at Murphy before leaving you alone with him.

He scoffed at you. “You said you would help us.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone.” You snapped at him, coming closer so he wasn’t yelling at you and risking Clarke overhearing.

He let out a laugh of pain, staring into your eyes. “It’d be a shame if Clarke found out you knew Emori was lying.” Murphy said and you clenched your jaw, knowing he was just upset. You started to turn around, not want to deal with Murphy but he called after you. “No, no, no, please, Y/N, please! Don’t do this, please I love her!”

You stopped walking immediately, feeling like you were shot in your chest. “Did you tell her that?”

“What? Y/N-“

“Did you tell Emori that you loved her?” you repeated and turned around, seeing Murphy’s brows drawn together. “Or were you so busy trying to find a way to save her that you didn’t tell her you loved her?” You weren’t sure where this was coming from, maybe from your own pent up feelings for Bellamy, but you didn’t care. You closed your eyes, taking a deep inhale before looking at him again and speaking with softer words. “Emori will be fine.” You promised him.

“If she dies, you die.” He threatened but you didn’t let his words get to you.

“Emori’s not going to die, Murphy.” You repeated and Murphy could feel how your promise didn’t feel as empty as Clarke’s had.

“And why’s that?”

You knew he wouldn’t take your word for it. “Do you trust me?”

Murphy narrowed his eyes at you. “Why should I?”

“Because,” You moved away from him, stopping on the other side of the launch doors and watching Murphy as the doors closed, “I’m crazy, right?”

Once the doors were closed, you let out a shaky breath, losing your composure as he let out a scream from the inside. Everyone paused, looking to you before you turned around, looking eyes with most of them before coming to Clarke’s side.

She didn’t say a word as she looked at Emori on a table much like Luna was. Abby was getting the syringe ready as Jackson tied a band around Emori’s arm, readying her for the injection. You moved out of Abby’s way as she came over with the syringe, your leg shaking as heavily as Abby’s hand was. Clarke was quick to notice, stepping past you to stand by her moms’ side.

“Mom?” She asked, but Abby showed no sign of a response. “We have to do this.”

Abby nodded finally, knowing Clarke was right as she tried once more to inject Emori but couldn’t. “I can’t.” She whispered to Clarke who nodded and took the syringe from her.

“I’ll finish it.” She whispered as well and you watched feeling yourself slowly sink into reality as you stepped forward when Clarke was about to inject her.

“Clarke?” you spoke softly, putting your hand on Clarke’s arm. She barely managed to look at you, her eyes already tearing as you tried to smile. “We need to talk.” She was confused, looking down to Emori and about to speak before you pulled the syringe out of her hand, placing it on the table. With a spare glance thrown to your confused friends, you pulled Clarke away from the table.

“Y/N-“

“You can’t do this.” You told her. She bit her lip, looking to Emori on the table before you took a deep breath. “I knew about their lie.” You whispered, keeping your voice quiet in the room. Clarke’s eyes slowly looked to you and you bit your lip. “Before we put that man in the chamber, I knew Emori was lying about who he was and I didn’t stop it.”

“You knew?”

Nodding your head shamefully you turned to Emori laying on the bed. “I overheard them talking about it and I didn’t stop it. I told you about him, made you think that using him was alright and I did nothing to stop anything. He��s dead because of me.”

“He’s not-“

“He’s dead because of me.” You repeated and Clarke didn’t stop you again, knowing there was no point. Baylis’, or whatever that man was called, fate was in your hands and you failed. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to inject that serum into me.” Clarke’s mouth fell open and she started shaking her head.

“Are you out of your mind? Do you want to die?” She asked you, gaining the attention of a few people as you tried to shush her.

“Of course, I don’t want to die.” You whispered harshly, pulling her as far out of earshot as you could. “But I’m not going to let Emori. That’d be two more deaths on my hands.” Clarke still wasn’t content with your answer as you sighed and grabbed her hands. “Clarke, I told you when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to take someone else’s spot to live. Either I die then right alongside everyone else, I die now and Abby knows what to do to fix the serum,” you paused with a shaky breath, “Or I survive. Everyone survives. Bellamy, Octavia, Kane, you. I need to do this.”

Being speechless wasn’t something Clarke was used to, but right now she really didn’t know what to say. “And if you die?”

You hesitated, even though you were just getting injected now, in a little while you were going to face your death. “Make sure your mom and Jackson figure out the serum.” Clarke tried to smile but you could tell it was forced, mostly for your benefit. You led her back over to Emori, no one knowing your plan as you looked down at Emori. Her eyes were closed as she laid unmoving, completely sedated. Clarke grabbed your hand under the table and you closed your eyes, feeling her look around the room before she picked up the syringe. She held it to Emori’s arm, making you think for a second, she wasn’t going to go through with it before her eyes locked with yours. “I’ll bear it so they don’t have to.” You whispered. You turned your arm slightly out and Clarke nodded. Right over her shoulder, Abby turned at your words, her brows furrowing before Clarke put the syringe in your arm.

“Clarke?” She whispered but Clarke didn’t stop. Slowly, the serum entered you and watched your veins turn black on your arm until the serum was gone and Clarke pulled the syringe out. You winced at the withdraw of the needle, the realization of what you just did becoming a reality.

“What did you do?” Roan asked, looking between the still black mark on your arm and up at you.

“We’re testing me.” You told them all before looking over your shoulder, your fate in the radiation chamber awaiting you.

What the hell did you just do?

You spent the next few hours letting your mind run crazy with the possibilities of what’s to come as you laid on the bed Emori once did, staring at the tiled ceiling above you. You let yourself think of everything you could, including Bellamy. If this didn’t work and you died, you never would’ve gotten to say goodbye to Bellamy. There were so many things you’d yet to tell him and in just a few minutes now you might not ever get the chance.

God Abby, please have gotten this correct.

Jackson walked up to you, giving you a short smile before you sat up and stretched out your arm, no words exchanged as he drew your blood. You didn’t watch, staring at Clarke as she joined. “It worked.” She said and you glanced down, seeing your blood now black as it sat in Jackson’s syringe. Everyone in the room was on end, shifting in nerves as you let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s been two hours.” Jackson said as you held your arm, blocking the needle mark with your thumb. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m going to throw up.” You grumbled under your breath, knowing it was nerves rather than the serum. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” Clarke asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. Nodding at her, you pushed yourself off the bed for the first time in two hours.

“Almost.” You whispered before turning to her. Realizing you wanted a moment alone, Jackson gave you space, taking your blood over to Abby who was rather close by. “Clarke, if things go wrong, I need you to promise me something.” Clarke furrowed her brow and you let out a laugh to cover your sorrow. “Tell Kane I’m sorry for everything.” You began and Clarke gasped lightly, not prepared for you to have been giving her your goodbye speeches. “I know he’s always tried to do what was best for me and I never really made it easy.” Having tried to decide what you wanted Clarke to tell Kane and Bellamy for the last few hours, you didn’t realize it was going to be this hard. You took a second, trying to even your words and completely unaware of Abby listening in at the mention of Kane’s name.

She hadn’t thought about him. Knowing how much you meant to Kane, Abby’s heart stopped. If he lost you, he’d break. She knew how she’d feel if it was Clarke going into the chamber and being exposed to the radiation. At the thought of her daughter and radiation, Abby was reminded of what she saw before Clarke and you arrived; Clarke covered in radiation burns. Maybe this was a sign.

She needed to stop this.

You were still trying to get through your speech to Clarke. “Just make sure Kane knows this wasn’t his fault. Or Bellamy’s.” Clarke quickly caught the change in your tone at the mention of Bellamy. Your face fell and you kept biting your lip. “And tell Bellamy that I-“

Abby stepped into your conversation, stopping you mid-sentence. “I can’t let you do this, Y/N.”

You furrowed your brows, looking between mother and daughter to see Clarke as confused as you. “Abby, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Mom, it’s okay, we trust you.” Clarke tried assuring her but she just shook her head, taking small steps backward.

“No, I won’t let Kane lose you again.” She ran to the chamber before anyone could get in her way and picked up the IV pole standing next to the chamber that Emori had tried to use earlier.

“Abby?” you called out seconds before the doctor swung the pole right into the chamber glass. “No!” you shouted at her alongside everyone else. Abby wouldn’t stop, hitting the glass over and over again, wires and pipes above her getting hit and sending sparks as well. She landed one last swing into the side, the glass there breaking fully before you were finally able to grab the stand away from her. “What did you do?!” you cried out, looking at the completely unusable chamber in front of you. Abby was breathing heavily, her adrenaline leaving her as she panted.

“I couldn’t let you go in there. Kane-“

“That wasn’t your decision!” you shouted at the woman, not caring about what anyone thought right now. “It was mine! It was my decision!” You weren’t aware of how distraught you were until your voice crack and Abby sunk to the ground.

Everyone was silent when you were yelling at her, Clarke being the one to approach either of you. She put her hand on your shoulder and you pushed it off, not wanting to be touched as you walked right past her and everyone, aware of everyone’s eyes on you as you left the room with a weight on your chest.

It didn’t matter what Abby’s reason for destroying the machine was. If this was the final hope, then she ruined it.

---

The struggle to get the bunker open was worse than ever, Kane using a crowbar to pry it open but it wasn’t working. “I told you it’s never been open.” Gaia said after Kane took a break, needing to catch his breath.

Gunfire rained outside, followed by men shouting as every inside the temple become more on edge than before. “It’s now or never.” Jaha said as Kane dropped the crowbar, wanting to help Indra despite knowing they couldn’t open the door. “We were brought here for a reason, Gaia. Think. Is there another key? It would have a 12 on it.” He said pointing to the roman numeral on the front but Gaia shook her head.

The door opened to the temple and Indra trotted in, looking at the still sealed bunker. “I’m sorry but we have to go. You should’ve brought more guns.” She told them, blaming their lack of guns as the problem.

“Then move your army into position.”

“I will not give up the tower for the tower and a door you cannot open.” Indra bit back at Jaha. Kane stepped in their squabble, suggesting coming back later but Jaha reminded him there wasn’t time and insisted he was staying and Monty vowed to stay as well.

“Maybe we are not worthy.” Gaia pointed out. “Maybe we are meant to burn in Praimfaya.”

“No.” Jaha disagreed. “We’re not meant to burn. We were meant to rise from the ashes.” He argued with the phrase, believing this wasn’t the end for them.

“Wait.” Everyone looked to Monty, the boy looking like he was onto something as they pressed him. “’From the ashes, we will rise.’ What if it’s not just a motto?” No one knew what to say. “What if it’s an instruction?”

Jaha looked to the fire next to the bunker, telling Monty to put the seal in the fire and he did. The fire turned a bright pink and everyone was taken back, shocked as they saw the metal start to melt away. Jaha covered the fire, snuffing out the fire before pulling away the cover to reveal the key.

“The 12th seal.” He whispered, sharing looks with everyone before he picked it up carefully, bringing it over and placing it into the lock. It fit perfectly and Jaha started turning the key giving them an entrance into the bunker. Indra turned to her guard standing by the door and told him to guard the temple rather than the tower and the 5 of them made their way inside.

The bunker was intact, no blood-covered walls like the last time, no skeletons standing guard, no signs of the bunker failing.

The bunker was your people's chance to live.

“Salvation lies within.”

A/N: Finally posted! Am I right? Okay, tell me what you think pretty please! I live on feedback and validation and it means the world to know your opinions!

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finnsgrin · 3 years

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Bellamy Blake - “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Part 2

Bellamy Blake x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: heartbellamy

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Word Count: 1,875

Published on: Friday, November 20, 2020

TW: None

Spoilers: None

Summary: S3

A/N: Much requested by my sister, who claimed that the ending of the first part was a cliffhanger. Enjoy. Also, I understand that Miller wasn't with Pike, but I forgot he wasn't when I wrote this, so for the sake of the story just pretend he is apjppsoeods

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

Part 1

Bellamy Blake

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Part 2

As if things couldn't get any worse, the moment you got to Harpers door, you remembered that she was out on a supply run with Octavia, leaving her door locked, and you stranded in the hallway with tears in your eyes.

"Damn." You cursed as you racked your brain for the key code.

"Need some help?" A familiar voice sounded behind you.

Monty stood in a guards uniform, the bulletproof material looking strange on him. Never in a million years would you have envisioned him in the guard. Let alone the bad part of the guard.

Anger swelled in you, and although you knew that Monty didn't directly take a role in Lincoln's murder, you still resented him for playing the part and sticking at his Moms side when he knew it was wrong.

"You here to kill me too?" You set down your bag, and stared him straight in the eyes.

Although he was at least a foot taller than you, he still backed up, and pity glistened in his eyes.

"(Y/N), I didn't mean to - ."

"You could have talked some sense into them, Monty!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Monty hissed.

You shook your head, picking up your bag with your few belongings.

"There's always a choice." You whispered as you made your way away from him before you did something you would regret.

Maybe with Kane or Abby as Chancellor, the rules would be different.

Scratch that.

They would definitely be different.

Curfew was 9 pm for every citizen of the Ark, excluding the guard, of course. If you were caught out after curfew, no matter the reason, you were shocklashed if you were over the age of 16.

This new rule, including the shorted curfew, and the extensive punishment were mandated by Pike.

Your eyes scoured the walls of the corridors for a clock, but they were empty. You could tell that curfew was approaching, because little to no people were in the halls, and those who were, were hurrying back to their assigned quarters.

Even if you turned back now, there was no guarantee that Harper was back yet, and there was no way in hell you were going back to your room with Bellamy.

In fact, maybe you would stay out in the halls on purpose. Maybe this would result in you getting shocklashed, and Bellamy would finally open his eyes.

Maybe Bellamy would even be the one to do it to you.

"Weren't you arrested in the first place for being out past curfew?"

Jasper startled you as he spoke, leaning against the frame of his door, bottle of moonshine in hand.

You eyed him.

"Weren't you arrested for stealing booze?" You sneered.

He only laughed, his words becoming more slurred as he downed another gulp of his drink.

"Weed, actually. And if it wasn't for... Monty. Neither of us would have been sent down here in the first place."

It was strange what all could change in the span of a few months.

Jasper and Monty used to be inseparable. They were practically brothers. No one could tear them apart.

But now, Jasper spoke Montys name with venom.

"Aren't you due back at the castle with the King?" Jasper waved his drink at the direction, referring to Bellamy.

"I-." Your words were cut short as Nathan Miller rounded the corner. His eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of the both of you.

"Are you trying to get yourselves killed?" He seethed, his eyes darting to the left and the right, breathing a silent sigh of relief as he came to the conclusion that he was the only guard in sight.

Jasper lowered his drink, scrunched up his nose, and appeared to be thinking hard.

"Is this a rhetorical question?" He mused.

Miller turned red in the face.

"I'm not joking around, Jasper. You're lucky it was me who found you, and not Hannah." Miller hissed, clearly not in a joking mood.

Jasper only rolled his eyes.

"Even if you do kill me, what would I end up losing?" Jasper took another drink.

"If you keep talking suicidal, you're gonna end up losing your booze." Miller said.

Jasper seemed to sober up at those words.

"Well, goodnight then." Jasper turned, but Miller stopped him.

"I can't let (Y/N) roam free, Jasper. She's gonna have to stay here tonight." Miller explained.

Jasper shrugged.

"Fine. But I'm not sharing any of my moonshine." He slurred as he walked into his flat.

Millers wrist watched beeped, indicating that it was 9 pm, curfew.

"Hey, I can stop by your dorm and let Bellamy know that-."

"You can leave, is what you can do." You sneered.

Miller blinked, startled by your use of words.

Before he could say anything to this, Hannah Green rounded the corner, and raised her eyebrows at the sight of you, God forbid, two inches outside of a dorm 1 minute past curfew.

Once she saw that you were talking to Miller, she sighed.

"I can let this slide, but just this once." She gave you a curt nod.

"Oh, will you?" You gave a mock squeal of gratitude, your smile sarcastic.

Hannah frowned.

"I don't like your tone, young lady." She said, her jaw taut.

"And I don't like your face, you power hungry bitch." You jeered.

Hannah gave a gasp of shock, and pulled out a notepad and pen from her pockets.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to write you up." She said.

You only laughed.

"For what? I didn't threaten you. I'm not even within slapping distance of you."

Her face grew a deep shade of scarlet.

"Is that a threat?" She spoke firmly.

"Do you want it to be?" You move forward, but Millers hands stopped you as he placed them firmly on your shoulders.

"(Y/N), enough," He pleaded, really not in the mood to arrest his friend tonight.

Hannah took a look at the door number of Jaspers dorm, and cleared her throat. Everyone knew Jaspers number. Everyone on the Ark had guided him home at least once when he was too drunk to walk properly.

"I'm going to let this go. I will assume that you are helping Jasper. But if you speak to me like that ever again, you can expect a night in lockup." Hannah held her nose high in the air as she strutted away.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Miller lit into you.

"Are you stupid, (Y/N)?" He hissed.

"Are YOU stupid, Miller? You know what you're doing is wrong." You jeered.

Miller was not in the mood for anymore arguing tonight, so he just let out a defeated sigh, and massaged his temples.

"Have a goodnight, (Y/N)." He spoke softly as he walked away.

Bellamy was a mess. He reread the letter that was left for him over and over again until his eyes ached, and his heart couldn't take it anymore.

It had been hours, and he felt like a complete ass for letting you be gone this long.

Even if he went out into the halls without his guard uniform, he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't get in any trouble, being a member of the guard and all.

He opened the door, but before he left, he took the letter that you left him, and folded it neatly into a square so he could carry it with him in his pocket.

It felt strange not walking with you. Almost as if the silence was too loud.

He nearly ran into Monty as he booked it through the halls and around the corner.

"Bellamy, what's wrong? Why was (Y/N) at Harpers door crying?" Monty wondered.

"She's at Harpers?" Bellamys felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders. You were safe.

Monty shook his head.

"No, no. Harper wasn't home. I-I don't know where she is." Monty stuttered.

Bellamy took no more time in conversing, and continued to jog.

"Bellamy? What are you doing out? It's past midnight." Hannah stopped him, a smile on her face.

"My- my..."

What was he even supposed to call you now?

"(Y/N), (Y/L/N), have you seen her?" His voiced cracked pitifully at the end of his sentence.

Hannah's eyes softened.

"I was down at Jasper Jordan's place when curfew started. She was there." Hannah explained, pointing in the direction of which you were.

"Thank you." He nodded gratefully.

It would make sense that you were with Jasper.

Next to Harper, Jasper was your best friend. And you both had something to bond over.

The fact that someone you loved and cared for was killed by someone you loved and trusted...

How much deeper could a bond get?

When he got to Jaspers, the door was cracked open.

Bellamy frowned, and gave a knock.

"(Y/N)?" He loudly announced his arrival.

A groan could be be heard from inside.

A half asleep, not even ten percent conscious Jasper stumbled to the door.

"What do you want?" He growled.

"Jasper, I need to see (Y/N)." Bellamy pleaded.

Jasper moved out of the way, too exhausted for anymore conversing. He gestured widly to the couch in which you had been sleeping on no more than two hours ago.

But you weren't there.

In your place, was yet another note, announcing your departure to the woods where you planned to run away and live a life with Trikru, where you could be free.

All of the blood drained from Bellamys face, and he patted his pockets, cursing when he remembered he wasn't wearing his uniform and didn't have his walkie talkies.

He shoved this note hastily in his pocket, and sprinted out of the room, out into the entrance of Arkadia, where the night air was cool, and the lights bright.

He panicked, swiveling around frantically trying to imagine which direction you would go.

He caught sight of you a few hundred yards outside of the fence.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" He screamed.

You turned around, his name almost passing your lips.

The sound of a gunshot answered him.

The crickets ceased their chirps, and time itself seemed to stand still as Bellamy watched your body crumble to the ground.

The watchman who had shot you realized his mistake as soon as he heard Bellamy scream.

That wasn't a Grounder.

Guards moved out past the gate, to examine the corpse.

They say you move faster when your adrenaline is pumping.

But Bellamy couldn't move fast enough.

"Don't touch her! Don't touch her!" Bellamy cried as a guard bent over to pick you up.

Your face was forever frozen. Your eyes wide with regret and heartache. Your lips beginning to form Bellamys name.

Bellamy let out a wail. It was a familiar wail.

It was the sound Raven made when she watched Finn die.

It was the sound Octavia made when she watched Lincoln die.

But this wail was different in a few ways.

It was full of more regret.

More sorrow.

As Bellamy held your bleeding body in his arms, the paper of the notes you had left crinkled in his pockets.

Both of them goodbye notes.

And Bellamy whispered the words he never got to say.

"It's you. I choose you."

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw bellamyblake bellamyblakeimagines the100bellamy the1000bellamy

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darylwillfightnatureforcarol · 3 years

Note

Fic request-Daryl sees negan and carol getting chummy and shows that he is super jealous.

Hello Anon!

Thank you so much for your request. I’ve never done requests before so I was worried I wouldn't be able to write something to fulfil it. But lo and behold, I have a short piece that I think fits your brief. Hope you like this and it’s what you wanted. (I should mention, there’s two ‘F’ bombs in this, in case you’re sensitive about that. The rest is pretty tame, so I don’t think I need to add any more warnings. I’d probably say this is a ‘T’ rating)

---

Dear Jealousy: Daryl watched from the porch as Carol talked to Negan. His eyes took in everything about the scene. They were standing close together, too close in his opinion. Her posture was far too relaxed to be standing next to someone so widely reviled.

He watched as Negan grinned and reached out a hand to pat Carol on the shoulder. Daryl’s eyes narrowed on that hand until it dropped away again. Carol didn’t even seem bothered by him touching her. She just shook her head with a look of amusement.

It hadn’t escaped Daryl’s notice that they had seemingly become friends. Ever since that last battle against the Whisperers, they had been spending time together. He hated it but it wasn’t like he could tell her to stop talking to him. He and Carol had hardly spoken since that day in the forest for one thing.

It wasn’t for lack of trying though. There just always seemed to be something getting in the way. If it wasn’t some form of repair they needed to handle—the horde had done a number on Alexandria so they had been spending a lot of time rebuilding—then it was the kids needing to be looked after.

Aaron had offered to help with the kids, but Michonne had entrusted them to him specifically. Daryl wasn’t going to betray her trust by shoving the responsibility of Judith and RJ onto someone else. Besides, they liked having him around and he liked being around them.

So, while he was occupied doing his best at being a parent, Carol had found a new friend. Why it had to be Negan, he didn’t know. He watched Carol say something to Negan, making him laugh loudly, tipping his head back. Daryl scoffed. It couldn’t have been that funny. He wouldn’t be surprised if Negan was playing it up for her sake.

He had started to suspect that Negan’s feelings for Carol were more than just friendly. He couldn’t blame the man if that was the case. Carol was amazing and it didn’t surprise him that she continually attracted such attention. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

Even when she was with Ezekiel, he had been tormented by the sight of them together. He had hidden it, of course, not wanting her to feel bad because of him. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty just because he harboured hopeless feelings of longing for her.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was no way he would ever be good enough for someone like Carol. That’s why he had kept his feelings hidden. There was no point confessing them. It would just make things awkward between them and he valued her friendship enough to be satisfied with that.

He stubbed out the cigarette that had been burning uselessly while he had been watching this spectacle. He’d just wanted a moment of peace, so he’d come out to the porch for a smoke. Apparently, the world thought him having a moment of respite a joke. He stood, abandoning his seat and headed inside.

The inside of the house was silent, letting him know the kids were out. At least that meant he could head to his room and possibly catch a nap until he had to make dinner. He started towards the stairs, eager to make it to the basement before something else came up to torment him.

“Daryl,” he heard from behind him.

He froze and sighed. He slowly turned and took in the sight of Carol standing in the hallway. Of course, it had to be her. The one person he didn’t want to see right now. He was too keyed up. In this state, he was likely to say something stupid or something he didn’t mean.

“Hey,” he mumbled, unable to muster up anything more enthusiastic. A frown creased her brow at his lack-lustre response.

“You okay?” she asked with obvious concern.

“Fine,” he replied. “What’s up?” he asked, hoping she would just tell him what she wanted so he could disappear for a while.

“Nothing’s ‘up’,” she said, frown deepening. “I just… We haven’t had much time to talk lately.”

Daryl nodded and crossed his arms.

“Been a lot to do,” he responded, pointing out the obvious.

“Yeah,” she said, almost whispering the word. “How are you doing? Looking after the kids, I mean?”

Daryl met her eyes again and shrugged. He had thought it would be more difficult than it was, but honestly, it hadn’t been so bad. Judith didn’t need too much looking after and RJ was well behaved for a kid his age.

“It’s going fine,” he said. “They’re good kids.”

Carol nodded, somewhat awkwardly.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to help,” she said. “I kind of needed some time to myself.”

He had been about to tell her that it wasn’t her responsibility to help with the kids, but the second part of her statement stopped him. His hurt that he had been experiencing out on the porch rose up once more and he didn’t mean to do it. He really didn’t, but apparently, he had reached his limit on mental stress. So, he scoffed in reply to her words. He watched her blink in surprise.

“What was that for?” she asked with slightly narrowed eyes.

Part of him told himself to just brush it off and make up some excuse, but the bigger, still-sore part of him urged him on.

“You say you needed time to yourself,” he said with a glare. “Well, it don’t seem like you been alone.”

Carol opened and closed her mouth, looking shocked and confused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Daryl scoffed again.

“How stupid d’you think I am?” he asked rhetorically. Did she think he hadn’t noticed her chumming it up with Negan? “I know you been hanging around Negan.”

Understanding lit up her eyes and she frowned.

“I haven’t been hanging around him,” she replied. Probably seeing the disbelief on his face, she continued. “I haven’t. Not on purpose at least. He keeps showing up,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

Daryl wasn’t placated by that, though.

“What, and you ain’t got a mouth that can tell him to fuck off?”

Carol huffed and crossed her arms.

“There’s no need,” she said dismissively. “Negan’s harmless. He just likes to listen to himself talk.”

Daryl hummed and chewed his lip.

“From what I saw earlier, looks like you like listenin’ to him talk too.”

Carol uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked, a spark of anger in her tone. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“You ain’t dumb, Carol,” he growled. “You gotta know he’s into you.”

Carol glared.

“So what if he is? Does mean I automatically am into him too?” she asked with a sarcastic tone. “For that matter, what’s it got to do with you if I was into him?”

Daryl flushed. He felt like he was being scrutinised under a microscope now. He felt silly for even starting this argument. It was just risking exposing how he really felt. He scrambled for a response.

“It… Nothing,” he stammered before shaking his head. “He’s just not good for you,” he muttered, trying to divert her suspicion.

Carol sighed and sad look took hold of her eyes.

“Do you even know me, Daryl?” she asked with a hard set jaw. “Do you really think, after everything, everything he’s done, I could ever feel like that about him?”

Daryl didn’t answer. He didn’t think he could right now. He felt like the biggest idiot in the world. He had let his feelings rule over his head and what he knew. Carol continued when he didn’t reply.

“After he hurt you?” she said and her voice broke a little. “I could never do that.”

Daryl felt tears pricking at his eyes and he had to blink a few times to stop them falling. Why had he doubted her? Carol had been one of the only ones on his and Maggie’s side when they had wanted to kill Negan all those years ago. Daryl had confessed to her about his time at the Sanctuary and she had told him that if she could, she would kill Negan herself for what he had done to him.

“What you’ve seen,” Carol said, having recovered her composure, “Has been me, dealing with his presence because it keeps him away from the others. You know most of them still want him dead and like it or not, Lydia cares about him. So he has to live.”

Daryl nodded. It was true. It didn’t matter much to Daryl—or Carol apparently—that Negan had helped in the battle and had killed Alpha. None of that made up for what he had done to the communities. None of that made up for taking Glenn away from Maggie and Hershel Jr. It was only Lydia’s odd bond with the man that ensured Daryl wouldn’t throw him to the wolves.

“If I had it my way, I would tell him to ‘fuck off’,” Carol said. It made him jump a little to hear her swear. She didn’t do it often and it always sounded odd coming from her. “I’m good at hiding how I feel, but he really is a pain in the ass.”

Daryl couldn’t help laughing. It felt good to hear Carol say that. He didn’t like acknowledging it now but he had honestly thought Carol enjoyed Negan’s presence. He worried momentarily that Carol wouldn’t appreciate his laughter after spewing accusations at her. His worries were apparently unfounded, as she started laughing too.

“You really thought I liked Negan?” she asked, still laughing a little.

Daryl thought about denying it, but it was too late. He’d already given himself away. He ducked his head.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he admitted shamefully.

Carol nodded and then cocked her head. Her eyes narrowed playfully.

“You were jealous, weren’t you?”

Daryl scoffed.

“Weren’t jealous,” he denied, which was a lie, of course. He had absolutely been jealous.

Carol’s eyes were still mirthful.

“Of course not,” she agreed with a smirk.

Daryl sighed and shook his head. He knew he only had himself to blame for her teasing. His face felt on fire from how hard he was blushing. He had acted like a jealous boyfriend or something. What the hell was wrong with him? Too late to take it all back though. At least it had been resolved somewhat positively.

“You know no one can replace you, right?” Carol asked after a beat.

“No?” he replied, chewing his lip, unable to help the vulnerability in his voice.

It had been ten years and he still worried that one day she would figure out she didn’t want him around. There was always a voice inside him telling him he wasn’t even good enough to be her friend. That voice always sounded like one of two people: Merle or his father.

“Never,” she said, shaking her head. She smiled a little. “You’re stuck with me forever, mister.”

Daryl’s mouth lifted into a half-smile. That sounded damn good to him. It didn’t matter in what capacity. As long as she was there, forever didn’t sound too bad.

“Think I can live with that,” he replied, still smiling.

Carol let out a little peal of laughter and moved closer. She went in to embrace him but hesitated. Time was, they could come together like that without a thought, but recent events had put a strain on their relationship. Still, with this conversation, he felt like maybe they could move past it finally.

Ignoring Carol’s hesitation, he enclosed her in his arms. She let out a noise of surprise but then sighed. It sounded contented, he noted happily. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and his senses were filled with the scent of lilacs. It was a common shampoo that used to be made at Hilltop, but Daryl always associated it with Carol.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was being a jackass.”

Carol snorted.

“You were,” she replied, her words muffled a bit. “I forgive you, though.”

“Appreciate it,” he replied with a grin.

---

Well, there you go! Hope you liked this. I’ll probably put it up on AO3 and Nine Lives too. If you’re curious, the title I came up with is based on the song by MIKA called ‘Dear Jealousy’. It’s seriously catchy. You should check it out if you haven’t heard it. As nervous as I was, this was actually kind of fun. If anyone has any more fic requests, send them my way. I’ll do my best to fulfil them.

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