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pofatrgwf · 1 year

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Chapter 10

CW: Murder. Death.

Uni was following Delta back to his family's home, to make sure he gets there safe. He kept following Delta, until he suddenly told Uni to stop.

Uni: "What's up?"

Delta: "Stay here, I need to do something real quick."

Uni: "No? I'm gonna follow you anyway. Again, you're THREE. "

Delta: "Fine."

Delta, followed by Uni, turned left and started looking around.

Uni: "What ar-"

Delta shushed him.

Delta, whispering: "We have to be sneaky."

Uni, also whispering: "For what??"

Delta ignored the question and kept sneaking. Eventually they came across a Spearow that was asleep.

Delta: "Don't move."

Uni: "I… don't like where this is going…"

Delta snuck up on the asleep Spearow, and snapped its neck.

Uni: "WHAT. HUH???? WHY??"

Delta: "Shhh!! You're gonna wake up the others!"

Uni: "ARE YOU GONNA KILL THEM TOO????"

Delta: "…Yeah."

Delta picked up the Spearow's corpse and put it on his back, puncturing it on his back spikes for stability. Delta saw other Spearows flying away, then glared at Uni.

Delta: "I think you scared off the rest. Let's go."

Uni: "YOU JUST- YOU- YOU KILLED SOMEONE! YOU'RE THREE YEARS OLD AND YOU KILLED SOMEONE."

Delta: "This isn't the first time I've killed someone, you know."

Uni: (Is EVERYONE on this team insane??)

Delta: "You can still go home if you don't wanna see this."

Uni: "I'd feel guilty leaving you alone, but… Okay you know what, WHY did you kill him?"

Delta: "Food? Duh."

Uni: (Oh great, I think I'm gonna throw up now.)

Delta started walking again. Uni followed, from a much greater distance. The two eventually reached Delta's home in the desert. Delta put the corpse on the ground and suddenly 428 Arons started running to eat it. Delta also dropped some apples he bought. He also started doing a head count.

Delta just said "16." and sighed.

Uni: "16 what?"

Delta: "Dead."

Uni: "what"

Delta went inside a cave, and saw that no one was inside. He then went outside and talked to one of his sisters.

Delta: "Where'd they go?",

Aron #972: "One of the eggs came out shiny and then Dad ran away, screaming in happiness. We haven't seen Mom in a while too."

Uni: (Who would just leave their children alone like this??)

Aron #972, pointing at Uni: "Who's that, anyway?"

Delta: "Not important. Anyway, I'm gonna head back to Treasure Town. Please try your best to survive. I saw some Spearows hanging out in a forest nearby, maybe check back later to see if they came back?"

Delta then turned around and started walking home. Until Uni just used his badge to teleport the both of them home.

Uni and Delta teleported inside Sierra's house, and saw Sierra on top of Kilo, startling everyone (except Delta).

Kilo: "WHATHOWDIDHUH????"

Uni: "We… just teleported here- What exactly are you two doing?"

Both Kilo and Sierra's faces were red, and they were looking away in embarrassment.

Uni: "Were you two… making out?"

Kilo: "Wait, Delta, are you bleeding?"

He pointed at the blood on Delta's spikes.

Delta: "Don't worry, it's not mine."

Kilo: "Ah, okay."

Sierra: "WHOSE BLOOD IS THAT???"

Delta: "A Spearow's."

Uni: "I'm gonna go outside for a bit…"

Uni walked outside as Delta explained what happened. He went to Treasure Town and sat on a bench with his hands on his head. (What have I gotten myself into…) , he thought. Magnezone saw Uni and decided to float towards him.

Magnezone: " Hey! How're your hours going?"

Uni: Don't you have other people's lives to ruin?"

Magnezone: "Huh?"

Uni: "You put me in the absolute worst team ever. Why couldn't you have just let me live in isolation…"

Magnezone: "No, because your sentence, remember?"

Uni: "I literally watched a three year old commit murder not even an hour ago, leave me alone."

Magnezone: "You mean that Lairon? He lives outside my jurisdiction, so there's nothing I can do about that."

Uni: "I am going to actually scream if you don't leave me alone."

Magnezone then backed off.

Uni: (Now that I think about it, maybe screaming might actually be a good idea.)

Uni stood up and walked to the beach to yell into the vast ocean.

Delta: "…And then after that, Uni teleported us both here. And that's pretty much it."

Sierra was speechless, but Kilo sure wasn't.

Kilo: "Man, I should've been doing that as a kid. Sounds so much better than accidentally setting myself on fire every time I tried to cook food."

Sierra looked at Kilo with intense concern in his eyes.

Sierra: "A- anyway… We should wash off that blood."

Meanwhile, a new person showed up in Treasure Town. The entire town started gossiping about him.

"It's a Fraxure."

"Do you think it's THAT one?"

"He has a mark on his head, I think he actually is!"

"No way, is it actually??"

Everyone started surrounding the Fraxure, excited. Some were asking for autographs, some fainted from pure excitement, and this was all overwhelming for the Fraxure.

Fraxure: "Can you all… please back off?"

And no one did.

Electivire: "Is it true that you're the Fraxure that beat up Giratina?"

Marowak: "All by yourself?"

Fraxure: "I- I wouldn't really say all by myself -"

Kangaskhan: "Wow, he's so humble!"

Joltik: "What's that mark on your head from?"

Duskull: "Can you really do Team Attacks all alone?"

The word 'alone' kept ringing in his head.

He hated that word so much because it perfectly described him. He was alone. He had no partner anymore, he had no family, and he grew distant from the rest of his team to the point that he traveled all by himself to get his mind off of what he did 7 years ago. He's been traveling around the world alone, hoping to find a town that doesn't know who he is in order to forget his past. But everyone knows. And they insist on reminding him.

He was no longer listening, no longer feeling anything but pain.

While this was happening, Sierra and Kilo were giving Delta a bath. Sierra saw what was going on, and went to the crowd. And yelled.

"EVERYONE BACK AWAY FROM THE FRAXURE. Can't you guys see you're overwhelming him?"

Sierra then made his way through the crowd and basically escorted the Fraxure away, behind a tree.

Sierra: "Hey, are you alright?"

Fraxure, shaking: "I… I- I think I need s- some time by myself…"

Sierra: "Are you sure?"

The Fraxure froze for a second, before shaking his head.

Fraxure: "I… don't want to be alone… B- but… I just… can't … do this anymore…"

Sierra: "What exactly is… ' this' ?"

Fraxure: "For the past… 3 years. I've been going around the world, trying to forget my past and move on. But… I can't do that if people know me… They always want to talk about what I did 3 years ago. But I want to forget. But they won't let me forget."

The Fraxure's eyes started watering.

Fraxure: "I just want to forget everything…"

Suddenly, Kilo showed up with Delta. They saw Sierra comforting the crying Fraxure, and decided that they probably shouldn't interrupt. So they went back to town.

Sierra: "If you don't mind me asking… What exactly do you want to forget? 'Everything' seems… a bit much. I- if you don't want to answer, that's fine!"

Fraxure: "I…"

The Fraxure sat silent for a minute.

Fraxure: "I had to… kill … my brother."

Sierra: "…Oh."

Fraxure: "I… I had no choice… In order to stop the entire world from being destroyed, I had to… do that…"

Sierra: "…If you had no choice, then don't beat yourself up over it."

Fraxure: "But-"

Sierra: "You did what you had to do. Don't ever forget that. Don't forget about his death, move on from it instead."

The Fraxure started sobbing.

Fraxure: "He… he said the same thing to me… As I…"

Sierra: "He's right, then."

Sierra let the Fraxure keep sobbing for a few minutes.

Sierra: "You know, hugs always help people feel better. Would you be alright with one?"

Fraxure: "I… don't want to be touched right now."

Sierra: "Understood."

After a while, the Fraxure ran out of tears to cry out.

Fraxure: "How… How do I move on?"

Sierra: "Whenever a loved one dies, I personally like to think that they live on in me. That they're not truly gone."

Fraxure: "Well… yeah. His spirit is actually with me, it's how I can do Team Attacks by myself. Because he's with me. In this scarf I have."

Sierra: "Was it his?"

Fraxure: "It is him. I used an Itemizer Orb. It was the least painful way I had to put him out of his misery."

Sierra was speechless.

Fraxure: "But I still miss him…"

Fraxure: "Sigh… Thanks for listening… I… I really needed that."

Sierra got up, and offered a hand to help the Fraxure up.

Sierra: "What's your name, anyway?"

Fraxure: "It's Axe."

The two walked back into town, talking. Axe went to a nearby inn to stay for a while.

Sierra met up with Kilo and Delta, and then Uni a few minutes later.

Uni: "Hey. Are we gonna do any requests or something? I only have 3 hours out of 100 done. I'd really like to get it over with."

Sierra wasn't paying attention.

"Ahem." No response. Sierra was too busy thinking to himself to hear Uni.

Sierra: (Itemizer Orb? Is he… wearing his brother's corpse? That's… genuinely messed up.)

Uni tapped Sierra's shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Sierra: " HUH WHAT ? Oh, sorry about that, wasn't paying attention."

Kilo: "You good?"

Sierra: "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. So what were you saying?"

Uni: "I need to do my hours, so can we do a job or something?"

Sierra: "Oh, uh sure. Let's go to the Guild then."

After picking out a few rescue requests, the team set out to Mt. Travail.

Uni: "Just wondering. If we were to, you know, stall … Would those hours count for my volunteering?"

Sierra: "Pretty sure 'Hours Volunteering' and 'Volunteer Hours' aren't one-to-one."

Uni: "Is that a no?"

Sierra: "Why don't you ask Magnezone?"

Uni: "Ugh, fine, no stalling then."

Right as they left the starting room, a Shedinja appeared.

Uni: "Oh, aren't Shedinjas like, super weak? This should be easy."

Uni used Water Gun, but the Shedinja took no damage.

Uni: "What??"

Sierra: "Wonder Guard. Only moves that are super effective against it will hurt it."

Delta: "I don't think any of us have any super effective moves against it. What do we d-"

Suddenly, Kilo ran and drop-kicked the Shedinja, launching it into a wall, defeating it instantly.

Uni: "Yeah, 'Super Effective moves only,' huh? Sure."

Uni: "Also. Kilo. What in the world was that?"

Kilo: "I'm just really good at kicking."

The team sped through all of the mountain, rescuing Pokemon on the way, until they reached the summit.

Kilo: "Anyone here?"

Uni: "Doesn't seem to be anything here."

Delta: "Except for a chest."

Sierra: "Hm. Neat."

Sierra opened the chest, and found 1000 Poke inside.

Kilo: "Cool, so like… let's go home I guess. Gonna be such a long walk, now that I think about it. "

Kilo grabbed the chest and used his leg to break a piece off.

Delta: "What are you doing?"

Kilo: "Well, I'd rather not go through the whole mountain again to get back home, so I'm just gonna…"

Kilo jumped off the side of the mountain, on top of the wooden board, and started sliding down.

Uni: "Uhh… He knows we can just… teleport home, right?"

Sierra: "I think he forgot…"

Sierra went to the broken chest, and grabbed another piece.

Sierra: "Teleport home, I'll go get Kilo."

He then also jumped off the side of the mountain.

Uni: "Okay, yeah, everyone on this team is insane. Let's go."

Uni and Delta teleported back home.

As he approached the bottom of the mountain, Kilo jumped, did a flip, and landed on his feet. He shouted in excitement. Sierra, on the other hand, was not good at snowboarding without snow (or even with snow, but that's besides the point). He stumbled, and started rolling down the mountain, straight onto Kilo.

Sierra: "Owww…"

Kilo: "Whoa, you alright?"

Sierra pulled out his badge and teleported the two back home.

Sierra: "I'm… going to sleep. Night."

Sierra immediately fell asleep, still on top of Kilo.

Kilo: "I think I'll sleep too."

#pofatrgwf #the power of family and this random guy we found #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #long post #chapter 10

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blythebitez · 2 years

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AAAAA could i get some yandere headcanons for beel if its not too much!!!

>o<

Yandere Avatar of Gluttony||Beelzebub

TW: Yandere(Duh) , Blood/Gore, Delusions. (General Yandere things)

-Many people seem to forget that devildom is hell, a place where sinners go to be tortured. Where demons, imps and ghouls run a muck trying to get their bloodlust out.

-With being one of the seven rulers of hell, of course they’re more civil then lowly imps. But they can break

-The lord of flies is a gentle giant, especially when it comes to you. But once his demonic nature comes out, the giant is no longer so gentle.

-“Oww!” You cried out. A little D got ahold of a fork, it’s instincts telling it to kill you. Obviously the little D wasn’t an actual threat, with being only five inches tall and all. It stabbed your bare foot, giggling watching blood seep from the wound. You and Beel had woken up in the middle of the night to get a midnight snack when the small fuzz ball appeared.

-Beel looked down at the lil D and simply picked it up by it’s neck fuzz. The ball scrambling to get away but. Beelzebub’s pupils turned sharp in that moment and you watched his sharp canines part, his jaw snapping out of place for a moment. He then bit into the demon, ripping it in two.

-You were taken aback by this action but he simply shrugged while chewing half of the demon. “It hurt you, it no longer needed to live…. Yuck… it even tastes foul…” He said calmly while spitting out the other half of the demon.

-Ever since then you’ve noticed Beel… change.

-Some demon who bumped into you in the hall earlier is found, organs on display, bite marks riddle the corpse. Staying in the hall where they bumped into you.

-You find the giant sticking to your side like glue, more then he does his twin. He holds you like a toy, sometimes even walking with you in his arms.

-He rubs up against you, always hugging you and smothering you. (Sometimes so much so you can’t actually breath underneath him.) sniffing you often then hugging you, refusing to let you go until you smell… right. Suddenly the rest of the brothers back away from you, your interactions with them are limited. When you ask Mammon why he laughs as if you didn’t know. “Are ya kiddin?! You smell like Beel! And I’m not gonna be his next meal!” With scent being a territorial mark, he’s isolated you from the other brothers.

-“Here… I brought this… I thought you might be hungry.” He says as he drags the corpse of a giant wolfish demon up to your room. A small smile on his face, a lovesick stare as he’s covered in the lower demon’s blood. Not taking the look of terror on your face as a bad sign.

-When out in the plaza, Beel turns into a beast, his horns come out, his nails turning sharp and claw like. He’s looking everywhere at once while out you, if someone dares look your way. They’re gone in seconds. It comes to the point where you two can’t even enjoy your time together. Beel is attacking almost everyone, he’s so paranoid that someone will take you away… lock you away… like what happened to belphegor…

-Here! He’ll mark you. That solves… most of the problems. He’ll know where you are all the time, others know who you belong to… and he’ll know how you’re feeling! W-what? Why are you running from him. Don’t run, where are you going? “Don’t run.” He calls out walking after you.

- In reality you’re screaming and running for your life, Beel had turned fully demon when rejected. All that came out of his mouth was growls and snarls. The demon chasing after you his insect wings giving him flight flying after you. He finally catches you. His talons are close to your face as he pounced on you, pinning you to the ground with force, giving you a huge bruise on the stomach. Tears pour from your eyes begging Beel to stop and to get off of you. He can’t actually hear you. He rips your top in two and sinks his teeth into your side. You scream out as he begins to transfer some of his power to you, marking you by force. You’re lucky he’s conscious enough to not pull out the chunk of flesh he sunk his teeth into.

-He’s confused on why you’re avoiding him now… he marked you. Your his now… you should be happy.

-You try to talk this over with Lucifer in private. Lucifer nods. He’s known about all of this. What’s the problem? It’s just something demons do for their mates. You’ll get used to it, it IS hell after all. He laughs at your silly worries, he’s just doing what’s in his nature.

-“Now… for the sake of the whole of Devildom… you’ll submit to him… right?” Lucifer asked you. It sounds like more of a threat then a question. Lucifer had just worked out his family’s bond… a mer human like you isn’t going to ruin it. Because if he knows Beel. Rejection doesn’t go over well on him (or any demon for that matter.)

-So for the greater good… it’d be best if you accept Beelzebub’s ‘confession’. No matter how overbearing he is, no matter how paranoid he is, no matter how over protective he is, no matter how smothering he is.

-He is a demon after all.

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tpwkjerii · 3 years

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oh, zombie!

you’re certain you’ve met the end when you’re cornered by flesh-hungry zombies, but a man with a bat and the bone structure of a god proves you otherwise.

pairing: jungkook x reader

warnings: cursing, shooting guns, weapons, mentions of death, minor angst, fluff, blood, zombies (duh), attempted murder, kinda heated makeout session, namjoon is an accidental cockblock, kissing

genre: zombie apocalypse au, thrill/gore (not too descriptive or graphic), strangers to lovers

word count: 9.8k+

a/n: the zombies in this fic have enhanced smell for corpses and human stress hormones!! and help i have like two other jk drafts rn (& disclaimer: i don’t own the gif above!!)

Fucked.

That was the best word to describe you and your current predicament. Now, with the loud groans of at least four zombies and heavy bangs against the door ringing in your ears, you were really starting to regret entering this grocery store.

You knew you should have trusted your gut when you first approached the store, but the thought of having actual food (not the dry ramen packets you were currently surviving on) and more water (you were on your last bottle) tempted you to push open the glass door and rush into the supermarket without so much as a noise scan. It took only eight seconds for the zombies and their enhanced smell to know that you entered. You were barely able to grab a single bottle of water before you heard an eerily low groan and immediately rushed for shelter in the dairy freezer.

Your twenty seconds of recklessness led you to where you are now, pushed against a cold door while zombies banged heavily against it. You held onto the inner lock as you reached down for your gun, which you were certain only had a few more bullets; regardless, it was your best shot at escaping this store alive. Gathering yourself, you inhaled and exhaled deeply with hope that you could shoot them all fast enough.

Just as you were about to release the lock and face your fate, the groans fell silent and were replaced by the sound of heavy and almost cartoon-like thwacks. Your feet froze as you realized that that was no sound or action a zombie could make — there was another human outside. You had only a few seconds to decide your next move, which would ultimately decide your future and whether you die in the middle of a grocery store dairy storage freezer or not.

Whoever killed the zombies outside could either be a kind-hearted person who didn’t want to see you succumb to a tragic fate or a person who wanted to save you from death by zombies only to kill you for your survival supplies. Considering the fact that they just knocked at least four zombies on their own, you prayed that it wasn’t the latter.

A few silent seconds passed until you eventually moved your hand, and you prayed that this wouldn’t be your second fatal mistake of the day as you slowly unlocked and opened the heavy steel door. Your gun visible in your other hand, you stepped out to see who your potential savior (or murderer) was.

Your eyes landed on the face of an extremely handsome man. Despite the obvious disarray he was in (then again, everyone who manages to survive during a zombie apocalypse is at least some form of messed up), it was clear as day that he was attractive. He had alluring doe-shaped eyes that were deceivingly innocent-looking, long dark hair that fell messily over his forehead, and the facial structure of an absolute god. The cut on his lip, small scratches scattered across his face, and his silver earrings only added to his intimidating impression, and upon seeing the heavy metal bat he held in his right hand, you instinctively tighten your grip on your handgun.

You were so enraptured by his captivating appearance that you nearly forgot the situation you were in.

“Who - who are you?” you finally asked, attempting to keep your voice as level as possible and praying that your face wasn’t red since he definitely noticed you checking him out.

He didn’t look intimidated at all, and a part of you died internally when his lip curled into a smirk. This was not looking good for you. “Are you gonna put that gun down?” he asked, the depth and warmth of his voice throwing you off. He laughed as you only blinked and he continued, “You certainly didn’t have a problem with me when you were checking me out earlier, so why keep the gun up now, babygirl?”

If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely were now. You cursed under your breath as you moved your hand down and quickly placed your gun back in your thigh holster, deciding that he was safe and probably wouldn’t kill you. “I wasn’t checking you out,” you muttered, and he laughed at your obvious lie.

“Whatever makes you feel better, babygirl,” he said, a teasing tone in his airy voice.

Your brows knitted together in irritation at the pet name. “Don’t call me that,” you mumbled, looking down at your worn sneakers awkwardly.

He laughed again, and you found yourself oddly enchanted to his tiny laugh. He took a step towards you, causing you to look up at him as he told you, “I won’t call you ‘babygirl’ if you tell me what your name is.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly before you answered, “My name’s Y/N, what’s yours?”

He grinned, which somehow turned his entire demeanor upside down. With his wide smile, he was no longer the intimidating guy that took down three zombies on his own with just a bat, but rather a nice guy that just wanted to help out a fellow human from being killed by zombies.

“Jungkook,” he answered simply as he began to walk away from you and through the store aisles.

“Jungkook,” you repeated, familiarizing the way his name rolled off your tongue with a nod. “So, Jungkook, what brought you into this store?” you asked, rushing to walk alongside him and skim through the aisles.

“This your first time outside, Y/N?” he asked, abruptly stopping to turn and look at you. You froze and dropped the bag of chips you were holding at the sudden eye contact. He sighed and moved to pick up the chips and place it back onto the shelves. “I was wandering around the area, and I saw that you walked right into a trap,” he told you.

“A trap?” you asked, your mouth falling open in surprise.

He nodded and motioned for you to help him fill his rucksack with water bottles. “Looters will leave trace scents or pieces of human remains to attract zombies to popular places survivors will drift to. Once any survivors enter and get killed by the zombies, the looters will come back, off the zombies, and take their supplies,” he explained with a grimace.

Your face twisted, and you suddenly felt even luckier that Jungkook saved you. “How do you know? I mean, how did you know that the looters were here?” you asked, still a bit unsettled at the fact that you basically walked straight-first into a death trap.

Jungkook zipped up his backpack, now full of at least 20 water bottles, and headed towards the dried foods. “I spotted one of their vans when I was walking around, so I figured they were in the area. Then I saw you entering the store and bingo — I was right,” he told you nonchalantly as he stuffed various dried fruits and snacks into his pockets.

“Take some of these,” he added, gesturing towards the few remaining dark chocolate bars.

You nodded, briefly admiring his casual attitude as you shoved two handfuls of the chocolate into your jacket pockets. “How did you recognize them? Have you had any… run-ins with them?” you wondered curiously, picking up your pace to match his quicker steps as he made his way down the remaining store aisles.

“They approached me to join them when this whole thing started,” he started, pausing to laugh softly at the shocked expression on your face. He shook his head as he continued, “I said no because what they do is twisted. Luring people to their deaths for some sick form of fun. They say they do it for the supplies but we all know that’s a lie.”

You nodded your head thoughtfully. “Oh, well, I guess that’s an admirable and sane choice.”

He murmured in agreement, and you walked alongside him, unconsciously humming a song that had been stuck in your head for a while. Being with Jungkook, who was both stronger and more knowledgeable than you, provided you with a sense of comfort. Additionally, he wasn’t shooing you off and willingly accepted your company (for the past 10 minutes, at least). Before you even knew it, you two reached the front store doors.

He walked out first, holding the door open behind him. You faltered, a second thought of “does he really want me to go with him?” running through your head.

He raised a brow, opening the door a bit wider. “You coming?”

“Wh- what?” you stuttered in disbelief.

“Do you want to come with me or not?” he asked. “C’mon, babygirl. We don’t have all day. Those looters are bound to come back soon.”

At the mention of those evil people, your legs moved instantly. You rushed out of the door towards Jungkook’s side and eagerly turned to face him. “Where to?”

He laughed, and you swore it was one of the most enchanting tones you’ve ever heard, before saying, “What’s the place you’re staying in like?”

You thought back to your small home and the painful disarray it was in. It was a miracle that you were able to survive so long considering how ill-prepared you were for an apocalypse to happen.

“Er, probably not as good as yours,” you answered sheepishly.

“Fair enough.” He nodded at the anticipated answer and began to walk in the opposite direction that you came from. You continued alongside him, internally screaming at how lucky you were. Not only did Jungkook completely save your life, he let you stay with him! You didn’t understand why, seeing as you were arguably an impediment to his survival, but you were grateful regardless.

The city around you was lifeless. What was once home to millions of citizens and the hustle and bustle of daily routines was reduced to empty stone buildings, the only people left either roaming as the undead or too afraid to come out. Within two weeks, the city and all its people changed entirely.

As you walked alongside Jungkook, you wondered what type of life he led before the apocalypse. Was he a student like you? Did he have a job? Was he a police officer or firefighter? Did he have family?

Several questions imposed themselves in your brain, and it was enough to almost distract you from Jungkook’s words.

“That van over there is a looter van,” he informed you, pointing towards a parked black van that had unrecognizable red symbols sprayed on it. “Each one has different symbols on it, but they’re all in red so they know where each one is and don’t mess up a potential job.”

You nodded and absorbed his words. You definitely passed a van like that when you were walking towards the store. “That’s good to know,” you whispered, your voice strained with mild fear.

He didn’t say anything else in response and continued forward, gently tugging you along with him when you lingered in your spot a second too long as you stared at the van.

Jungkook led you for a few more minutes, each second only increasing your curiosity as to where he was taking you and what he was really like. Silence prevailed until you heard a low groan and the distinguishable sound of a foot dragging along gravel. You stiffened and unconsciously moved to grip Jungkook’s hand.

He stopped in his tracks and gently pushed you towards a building wall. Once both your backs were pressed flat against the stone wall, he adjusted the grip on his bat and you reached for the gun in your thigh holster. The zombie’s groans grew louder as it approached. You knew they couldn’t see and had a very limited sense of hearing, but you wondered if you or Jungkook had anything on you that attracted its hunger for rotting flesh or stress.

You held your breath as the zombie came into view, its decaying body and unsettling groans disturbing you. It walked closer, although not directly towards you. You raised your gun the same time as Jungkook lifted his bat, but you didn’t have to pull the trigger and Jungkook didn’t have to swing as the zombie only walked straight past you two, leaving only its rotting scent behind.

You breathed out in relief and relaxed your shoulders as you placed your handgun back in its holster. “Thank god,” you whispered.

“Let’s go,” was all Jungkook said before he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. It seemed like you weren’t the only one anxious to get out of the open.

Jungkook’s home was much, much better than yours (if you could even call your tiny studio that).

“Holy shit,” you whispered as you admired the fortified mansion. High stone walls and a metal gate surrounded the large two-story house. “You have this place all to yourself?” you asked Jungkook. Now you were really curious what his profession before this was.

He shook his head as he unlocked the gate with a key. “A few friends live with me,” he answered simply before slipping the key back in his jean pocket. “They should all be awake by now.”

You nodded and followed closely behind him as he walked up the short pathway to the front door. As he opened the door, you heard a loud yell come from within.

“Kookie!” he yelled, his voice smooth and deep.

You saw Jungkook’s face turn red as he quickly shut the door with a slightly mortified facial expression.

“Uh -”

The door burst open. “Kookie!” a man shouted before enveloping Jungkook into a tight hug. You stepped to the side, observing the affectionate interaction with a grin. The man who barreled into Jungkook had black, fluffy hair that was held back by a black hairband. He was on the thinner side, but still built, and appeared to be a bit taller and tanner than Jungkook. When he released the hug and turned to face you, your breath hitched.

He was attractive.

“Who’d you bring home?” he asked Jungkook, a boxy smile directed towards you.

“Her name is Y/N, I caught her just before some zombies got her,” Jungkook answered as he nudged you and the man inside.

As you stepped through the front door, you observed the large home’s tasteful interior. A pristine white kitchen was to the right of you, apparently well-stocked based on the two open cabinets that were filled with snacks and ramen. To the left of you was an open living room with one large couch and two smaller ones surrounding a paper-filled coffee table and a large TV mounted onto the wall.

Impressive, you thought.

The fluffy-haired man stepped in front of you, his contagious smile still going strong. “I’m Taehyung. It’s nice to meet you!”

You smiled at him. It’d been a while since you met new people, much less people with such warm and friendly dispositions. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you returned honestly.

Jungkook cleared his throat, announcing suddenly, “I’ll show Y/N around.”

You turned to face him, noticing that he had taken off his bags and leather jacket. His bare arms were now exposed, and you immediately noticed how sculpted he was. A sleeve of various tattoos decorated one of his arms, drawing your attention to the ink on his defined muscles. His other arm was more bare, but still had a few figures on it. Realizing that you were probably staring for too long, you tore your eyes away with a nod before you set down your own bag and followed Jungkook.

He took you past the living room and kitchen through a hallway, showing you where the first floor bathroom, in-home gym, and office were. You gaped at the book-filled office that also housed several weapons. Lined across the wall were several guns, knives, and other weapons you couldn’t even name. After you recovered from what you saw in the office, he led you up the stairs.

“This is Taehyung and Jimin’s room,” he said, pointing to the first door in the hallway. “Jin and Yoongi’s.” He pointed to the door next to the first one. “Namjoon’s.” He then pointed towards the first door on the opposite side of the hall. “And mine.” He pointed to the door next to Namjoon’s.

You nodded, resisting the urge to ask about their family members since you knew it could be a sensitive subject for them. “Are they all home?” you wondered. “Well, except for Taehyung, I guess,” you added as an afterthought.

Jungkook nodded. “Jin, Yoongi, and Jimin are probably in their rooms. Namjoon will be out for the next few days getting some stuff, so you can stay in his room for now.”

Your lips parted in shock. “No, no! That’s his room. It’s fine, I can sleep on the couches if anything!”

“It’s fine, he won’t mind,” Jungkook insisted.

But you shook your head in persistence. “Really, I’m completely fine with the couch. I wouldn’t want to make Namjoon feel uncomfortable or anything.”

He sighed and shrugged, seemingly relenting to your wishes. “Alright, we can head back down then,” he said as he turned back to the stairs.

Before you followed him, your eyes landed on the last door all the way down the hallway. You had no idea what was behind it, yet it still emitted an ominous and mysterious aura that called out to you. “Wait,” you said before you even thought about it. Just as he turned to face you, the realization that he probably didn’t tell you what was in that room for a reason (whatever that was) hit you.

“Er - nevermind!” You laughed awkwardly, hoping he would drop it. But it was too late — he already noticed your lingering gaze on the locked door.

“Don’t go in that room,” he stated bluntly before turning around, not giving you a chance to respond. “There’s nothing in there that’s of importance to you,” he added as he walked down the stairs. You rushed to follow him after him, still intimidated to be in this big house with completely new people, muttering words of agreement.

Everyone in this house was shockingly nice. Jimin was undeniably kind and spent your entire first night at your side, making sure you felt comfortable in this new place. Yoongi, although more reserved, didn’t hesitate to check if you were alright whenever you spaced out or got scared by a sudden noise. Lastly, Jin was incredibly attentive; from asking you if you had any food allergies or if you preferred baths or showers, he did his best to welcome you.

(They were all also really attractive, but that's besides the point).

Before you knew it, a week passed. Seven days of playing board games with Jimin and Taehyung, cooking with Jin, talking about conspiracy theories with Yoongi, and working out (and trying to avoid) with Jungkook.

Why were you trying to avoid him? Well, despite having met Jungkook first, you couldn’t help but start to feel awkward around him. Not because he made you feel uncomfortable or the reverse, but rather due to your undeniable attraction to him. It certainly didn’t help that his personality complemented his beautiful appearance well. On the outside, Jungkook appeared cold and intimidating, but on the inside he was soft and kind. He was exactly like one of the many fictional characters you’d fallen in love with before.

Your first official day at the house, you kept your cool pretty well. Of course, Jungkook and his endearing behavior and large, doe eyes had to ruin it. Then again, it was also on you for not listening to your initial instinct of avoiding the gym machines. What exactly happened?

Well, after three failed attempts of using the machine from hell (you didn’t even know it’s name), Jungkook finally decided that it was just getting sad and moved from his machine to help you.

“You’re supposed to use your arms to bring it back,” he said with a teasing tone as he neared you. You jumped in your seat and looked up at the mirror to see his figure stopping directly behind you. Your breath hitched as he leaned down and… oh fuck, did his arms just brush up against yours?

Face burning red, you looked away with a violent cough. “Er, I knew that.”

He laughed softly at your embarrassed expression, the enchanting sound of his lap wreaking havoc on your already weak heart. You turned towards him and gently pushed his chest with a scoff.

“You don’t have to laugh at me,” you grumbled.

“Sometimes I can’t help it,” he countered with a smug smile.

You particularly liked when he smiled since he reminded you of a bunny whenever he did — especially when he had a large smile and his eyes formed happy, crescent moons with twinkling stars. Jungkook’s grin (and laugh) was as infectious as Taehyung’s and Jin’s, and he was, overall, a perfect person in your eyes. Even as he made fun of you (jokingly, of course), you swore he was sent from the stars above.

Deciding it best to not catch feelings for your savior and person who graciously housed you, you tried to keep your distance from him since then. Whenever he entered the room, you tried your best to subtly leave (bless Seokjin for being exceptionally understanding of your “cramps”) and when he tried talking only to you or directing the conversation to you, you roped someone else into the discussion. It worked for the most part as you talked to the others more and ignored the way Jungkook made your heart race whenever you thought about him, but today you were out of luck.

“Y/N and Jungkook, supplies run today.”

You gaped at Jin from your spot on the couch. “What? Me? Are you sure?” you asked, silently pleading with your eyes.

He rolled his eyes and nodded, bending down to gently pat your head. “Yes, you. Don’t worry, you’ll have Kookie with you.”

“And this,” Yoongi added as he dropped a gun much larger than your small handgun in your lap.

You looked up at him in shock. “I don’t know how to use this!”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you’ll need to use it.”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’re gonna have to pull your weight if you wanna stay with us,” Taehyung told you, winking at you when Jungkook entered the living room with his gear. Your eyes widened at him, but you couldn’t say anything as Jungkook approached you.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

You sighed and stood up begrudgingly. With an excessively-large gun in hand and empty backpack strapped to you, you exited the house with Jungkook at your side. Together, you silently walked down the same path he took you up almost a week ago.

You embraced the peacefulness of this secluded area. Jungkook’s home was quite secluded, and the surrounding trees were home to blissful breezes and a variety of chirping animals. Despite the downfall of humanity, it seemed that wildlife was flourishing, you noted.

“So I guess I’ll ask now,” Jungkook started, capturing your attention. You turned and looked up at him, anxiously waiting for him to continue. “Were you staying with anyone before? I assume not since you’re with us now…”

You shook your head. Your voice lowered as you answered, “I was all by myself.” He frowned while you continued. “My parents were on a trip abroad with my best friend Hobi when it happened.” Your eyes teared up as you mentioned your family and Hobi, who was basically your older brother.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s ok,” you mumbled. “The last call I got from my parents before all the cell towers went down, Hobi was doing alright with them. I’m thankful that they have him.”

“I’m sure that Hobi is doing a good job taking care of himself and your parents,” he responded soothingly.

You nodded, blinking your tears away as you diverted your gaze towards your moving feet. “So what about you?” you asked after a few silent moments. “Do you have any family?”

He cleared his throat and tightened his grip on his backpack. “My parents didn’t make it,” he answered bluntly.

Your head whipped towards him. “I’m so sorry,” you said rushedly. “I don’t know why I even asked you, I overste-”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, gently turning your head to face the road path ahead of you two. “I was the one who asked first, anyways.”

You looked down again in shame. “Sorry again,” you murmured.

Jungkook smiled down at you before a small laugh escaped his lips. Your heart picked up it’s pace when he laced his hand with yours and pulled you forward. “Come on, the supplies won’t get themselves.”

You felt an odd sense of deja vu as you ran out of the grocery store, Jungkook following behind you and a horde of hungry zombies behind the both of you.

But let’s back up a few moments to ten minutes prior to this predicament.

You and Jungkook finally reached the grocery store that Jin had been scoping out via hidden camera for the past week. Your eyes were delighted by the sight of shelves lined with a variety of foods and freezers that still had cold air circulating behind the glass doors.

“This is one of the few places that run on solar power, so the electricity still functions in here,” Jungkook explained when he noticed your confusion at how he was able to turn off the lights and the gust of cold air that greeted him as he opened one of the freezer doors to grab an ice cream bar.

“I’m surprised no one’s hit this place up yet,” you said as you took out the list of supplies that Jin gave you before you left.

“Jin’s been watching this place for a while. He thinks no one’s come here because it’s kinda far away.”

You nodded in agreement, thinking back to the long walk you and Jungkook took to get here. You supposed not many people wanted to risk being out in the open for so long and didn’t find the commute worth it.

“Is Jin watching us right now?” you asked Jungkook curiously.

During your short few days at their house, you quickly learned each person’s role. Yoongi, who used to be an engineer, builds all the cameras and weapons. Jin, a former director and computer whiz, monitors the cameras that he and Taehyung set up around the city. Taehyung, a film and dance student, helps Jin set up the cameras in obscure places and trains with Jungkook and Jimin. Jimin, a skilled dancer, often accompanies Jungkook and Taehyung during training and supplies runs. Unfortunately, Jimin sprained his ankle recently and Taehyung injured his arm during training, leaving the supplies-run to Jungkook.

The only person you had yet to meet was Namjoon. According to the others, Namjoon was a former pre-med student and scientist who was on a trip to find something. Of course, they didn’t tell you what that something was. And while you were curious, you also didn’t want to overstep your boundaries and risk being kicked out.

“Probably, he usually watches camped out places to monitor and che-”

You and Jungkook both turned your head at the recognizable low rumble of a car. He was quick to grab your hand and pull you down onto the ground, out of view from the front glass windows. You held your breath at the sound of a car door opening and then the ringing bell as the front door was pulled open a few seconds later.

Jungkook reached towards his large gun, but he halted when he recognized the distinguishable stench that the random person carried in. Your eyes widened when Jungkook began panicking, his fingers fumbling for his walkie talkie.

You heard a heavy thud and the sound of the ringing bell again as the mysterious person exited the store. You waited until the rumbling of the car grew distant before you looked up and cursed loudly.

“Fuck! He dumped a dead body here!” you cried, stomach churning at the sight of the pale corpse.

Jungkook groaned from beside you and rushed towards the front of the store, poking his head out of the door and looking both ways. “Fucking looters!” he cursed as he moved his head back and hit the window.

Steering clear of the dead body, you walked towards Jungkook and craned your head to see what he was looking at. The sight of several zombies, more stumbling out of random buildings and streets to join the crowd, heading straight for the store. “Shit! What are we gonna do! They’re already down the block!”

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck, ok, did you get everything?”

You quickly scanned through the paper list and peered into your open backpack. “Most, but I forgot to get some things,” you answered quickly as you mentally checked off each item you saw.

“Which ones?” Jungkook asked, already zipping up his backpack.

A blush spread across your chest and neck, and you wished that you didn’t have to answer. But judging by Jungkook’s stressed face as the zombies’ groans grew louder, you knew you were in no position to stall. “Er. Feminine hygiene stuff,” you blurted.

Jungkook paled before blushing immediately after. His body movements stuttered momentarily before he nodded and headed towards the back of the store. “Shit, ok. Start running!”

You stared at him in bewilderment. “What? I’m not leaving you behind!”

“Just go!” he shouted.

You felt the alarm in your body grow as your head darted between Jungkook’s frantically moving body and the group of zombies just down the street. Knowing that even Jungkook didn’t stand a chance against all those zombies, you ended up on a decision that you really hoped would end up working out.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you looked down at your large gun and adjusted your grip. In one swift move, you kicked open the door and began shooting the zombies, which were now coming from both directions across the street. Your aim wasn’t the best, but it was good enough to pierce bullets through a good amount of them straight in the neck or chest.

“Jungkook! Hurry up!” you cried as you held down the trigger, praying that Yoongi packed enough bullets in the gun.

Small piles of rotting bodies began forming as deceased zombies collapsed to the ground and the other ones climbed over them to get to you. But the few zombies you managed to kill were easily outweighed by all the live ones still clamoring towards you. A cry of frustration left you as you realized that the noise from the gun and the obscene amount of stress radiating from you and Jungkook were just attracting more zombies in the area.

Jungkook ran up towards you, several boxes of various tampons and pads in hand. “I didn’t know which one you wanted! Let’s go!”

In a normal situation, you would have thanked him for his thoughtfulness, but this wasn’t a normal situation by any means.

You and Jungkook ran out of the store towards the house, both turning back occasionally to shoot any zombie that was getting too close. Your breaths grew uneven from exhaustion, but the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping within you kept you and your weak legs going.

“Don’t get too tired! I’ll shoot, just keep running!” Jungkook instructed you when he noticed you clutching your side in pain.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine!” you responded. But you spoke too soon as you tripped over a rock not even a minute later. “Shit!” you cursed as you landed on your hands and knees before immediately standing back up and catching up to Jungkook, who had stopped a few feet ahead of you when he noticed that you fell.

He didn’t say anything as he gently turned your hands over and examined them. Cuts, with blood flowing freely from them and tiny rocks stuck in between the open skin, covered the palm of your hand and your fingers. Jungkook’s eyebrows creased in concern as he moved his eyes down your body to your knees, which now had deep, bleeding gashes in them from the rocks that cut through your jeans and broke your skin.

“Jungkook, it’s fine. We have to go.” You moved your hands to your side and pulled him to continue running, cringing at how your blood stained the bottom of his black denim jacket and his hands. He cursed, obviously wanting to say something, but continued alongside you.

Thanks to the unexpected delay, the zombies had gained on you by a good few meters. You winced as you turned around and pressed the trigger of your gun, the spray of bullets taking a few of them down. But your tiny sense of relief didn’t last long as you soon heard an empty click and noticed that nothing was leaving the end of your gun — you were out of bullets.

You cursed and turned forwards again. “How many rounds do you have left?” you asked Jungkook, panting heavily as you continued running next to him.

“Not that many,” he answered, concern evident on his face.

You looked back at the relenting zombies, hot on your tail, and cursed. How were you going to get yourselves out of this one?

The answer to your question was presented to you in the form of a poorly-driven SUV that was heading down the road and straight towards you and Jungkook.

“Thank god!” Jungkook cried as he pulled you to the side and out of the vehicle’s path.

“Thank god?” you repeated in confusion.

The black SUV halted to a stop in front of you and Jungkook, the doors opening automatically.

“Get in!” you heard a new voice shout.

You and Jungkook didn’t waste a second to climb into the car, which quickly sped away once Jungkook slammed the door shut behind him. Neither of you had the chance to breathe as the zombies, which seemed to have grown even faster, jumped for the back of the car.

“How did they get even faster?” Jungkook cried as he pulled your shaking body towards him.

“The fast ones might be mutations, I found more reports on them the other day,” the silver-haired man in the front with glasses answered. You assumed that this was Namjoon, considering his answer and that Jungkook didn’t mention anyone else.

“Mutations?” you cried, jumping when a hand smacked your backseat window. “These fuckers are mutating?”

Namjoon didn’t get a chance to answer as he harshly turned the steering wheel, sending the car swerving and you and Jungkook barrelling to the other side of the car.

“Namjoon you’re so shit at driving!” Jungkook exclaimed as he rubbed the side of his head that clashed with the glass window.

Namjoon scoffed. “Don’t talk to your hyung like that when I just saved your life! And who told you not to put on seat belts?!”

“Yeah, let me just put on a seatbelt while there’s zombies cha-”

You gasped suddenly and pulled yourself up towards the front. Head directly next to Namjoon’s, you reached your bloody hands up towards the steering wheel. “There’s a bunny!” you shouted as you swerved the car out of the way, sending Jungkook to the other side of the car and wincing as your waist collided with the firm side of the passenger seat.

“Y/N, what the fuck!” you heard Jungkook moan.

“We were gonna kill the bunny!” you protested in your defense as you rubbed your side and sat back down next to Jungkook.

“We have other things to worry about!” he yelled.

“God! I’m sorry, you’re right,” you groaned as you leaned back down into the back seat.

“They’re slowing down!” Namjoon suddenly announced, his eyes focused on his windshield mirror. “Look, they’re retreating!”

You and Jungkook both turned around towards the back window. Just as Namjoon said, the zombies stopped chasing you, instead shuffling in place or back the other direction. With the threat of zombies gone, you let out a breath of relief and closed your eyes.

You kept your eyes shut as Jungkook grabbed your hands and gently ran his fingers across the open wounds, his touch sending electricity through your body. Despite the rush from his soft touch, exhaustion still tugged at you and weighed down your eyelids.

With the comforting feeling of Jungkook’s hand wrapped around yours, you drifted into unconsciousness.

Your nap was unfortunately short lived. It took only a few moments to arrive back home, and upon exiting the car, the three of you were immediately greeted by everyone else in the home.

“Y/N!!” Jimin greeted as he walked slowly over to you. Jin closely followed the blond to make sure that he didn’t hurt his ankle.

“Jimin!” you said with an equal amount of excitement, throwing your hands up into a welcoming gesture.

Jimin and Jin gasped as you revealed your bloodied and cut up hands.

“You’re hurt!” Jin sputtered as he rushed towards you. “Your knees too!”

“It’s fine, it only stings a little,” you admitted sheepishly. It wasn’t a complete lie — you didn’t exactly have the time to think about your injuries while running for your life.

Jin shook his head. “Come inside, I’ll treat the cuts a-”

“It’s fine, I can do it,” Jungkook said, suddenly appearing at your side.

The older man raised his eyebrows. “You sure, Kookie? Don’t you want to rest?”

Jungkook shook his head and silently pulled you into the house, leaving you to shrug in confusion at the guys behind you. You followed Jungkook through the first floor, up the stairs, and into his room.

His bedroom was similar to what you expected. The walls were painted a dark grey color and there wasn’t much in the room other than the basic furniture and a few pictures and art frames. You sat down on the plain black sheets as Jungkook walked to his dresser and pulled out a first aid kit.

“Why didn’t you just let Jin treat my cuts?” you asked Jungkook quietly, noticing faint signs of exhaustion in his slow movements.

He hesitated to respond. His hands stilled on the top of the red kit as he slowly responded, “I thought this was the only way I’d be able to speak with you… alone.”

“Why?” you asked, praying that you weren’t blushing as assumptions instantly formed in your mind.

He cleared his throat and opened the kit, instantly reaching for several bandaids, disinfectant pads, and antibacterial wound ointment. “Well,” he started as he gently grabbed your hands and turned them so your palms were facing up. He opened the pack of disinfectant pads and swiped them across your hands and knees. “I wanted to ask you why you’ve been avoiding me the past few days.”

Your heart dropped. You didn’t realize that Jungkook noticed how you tried your best to steer clear of him; but it wasn’t like you could really tell him that it was because you were starting to have feelings for him,

“Was it something I said? I did?” he asked as he spread the cold ointment on the open wounds.

“No,” you answered quickly — a little too quickly judging by the way his head darted up to meet your eyes. You blushed under his stare and continued, “You didn’t do anything to offend me, Jungkook.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost pleading.

You groaned inwardly and wished you could cover your face with your hands, but Jungkook held them firmly in his as he bandaged them. A few seconds of dragged-on silence passed before you looked down at your lap and responded vaguely. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

His hands stopped and his brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would things be awkward between us?”

Blood rushed to your face as you looked up to make painful eye contact with him. “Do you really want to know?” you whined, already anticipating Jungkook’s answer since you’d become quite familiar with his stubbornness over the past few days.

“Yes,” he started. “Please tell me,” he said, feigning an expression of a wounded puppy.

You cursed under your breath and brought your freshly bandaged hands (you ignored that one of the bandages was only half on, courtesy of Jungkook’s prior confusion) up to your face.

“Do you promise not to make fun of me? Or kick me out?”

He laughed, although the soft sound didn’t match the nervousness in his expression. “Yes, I promise.”

His words prompted you to breathe in deeply, mentally preparing yourself for your confession. You can do this, you said to yourself. If you could shoot and run from at least thirty zombies, then you could definitely tell Jungkook you had feelings for him. Right?

It wasn’t like you could keep on avoiding him forever, anyways. With the rate that the apocalypse was going and based off the past few days, it looked like you were going to be at this house a while. You just hoped that your reveal wouldn’t make your stay awkward for either him or you.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Y/N?”

You hummed, still stuck in your thoughts before finally responding. “I… I may or may not be incredibly attracted to you and have feelings for you,” you admitted reluctantly. Jungkook’s lips parted in shock, but he didn’t get a chance to respond before you continued in a panic. “You already promised you wouldn’t make fun of me or kick me out! No take backs!”

He laughed, and you cringed as you were sure it was a laugh of rejection and that the dulcet notes would be a new cause of your nightmares. But the words he said after proved the opposite.

“That’s a relief.” You looked up, a bewildered look on your face. “I like you too,” he mumbled bashfully, his long hair falling in front of his face as he looked down at his lap.

Your body froze. “D-Did I hear that right? Have I not gone crazy?”

He looked back up at you with a grin. “Crazy for me,” he joked with a wink.

Unimpressed, your face dropped. “I take it all back, I’ll go pack my-”

Jungkook shook his head with a chuckle. “Kidding, kidding,” he said, enveloping his slender hands around yours. “But I was completely serious about liking you back.”

“Really?” you asked, still in slight disbelief that Jungkook, who could literally have his portrait and biography in a hall of all Earthly legends, had feelings for you.

“Yes, really.”

You opened your mouth, ready to shoot a doubtful reply, but Jungkook cut you off with the lift of his hand. He rested his hand back down around yours before continuing, “I know you’re probably going to say something self-deprecating or a joke or ask me if i’m joking again, so you might as well let me speak first.”

He grinned at the way your face heated, priding himself on how well he knew you already.

“The way you wish each of us goodnight every night, the way you wake up early to help Jin prepare breakfast, the way you cuss whenever you’re nervous, the way you always try to keep up with whatever stuff we’re doing - even when it’s stupid - and keep a smile on your face; everything about you made me fall for you. Even before the apocalypse, I never felt this way for anyone else.” He took a deep breath, gently squeezing your hands. “The night I first brought you here, it felt like seeing you enter that store and meeting you was fate. You make questionable decisions, we both saw that today, but I’m glad that one of them brought us together because I honestly don’t think I can ever meet anyone else like you.”

A wide smile spread across your face and tears pricked your eyes. Never in your many years of life had anyone told you such genuine, heartfelt words. And no one noticed (or appreciated) those small things about you - your habits that were always brushed over - like Jungkook did.

You agreed with his claim of you making questionable (stupid) decisions, but in this moment you were thankful for your sometimes-dangerous spontaneity and rash decision making. Because if it weren’t for that sudden moment of desperation where you ran into the grocery store, you never would have met Jungkook. Your heart wouldn’t be racing like it was right now and your hands wouldn’t be warm from the feeling of his wrapped around them.

“What do you say?” he asked weakly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“What is there to say?” you countered before you released your hands from his and interlocked your fingers around his lower body. The position was a bit awkward, but you didn’t mind. Less than a few seconds later, your lips were pressed against his.

Jungkook moved his hands from the small of your back to your neck up to your hair. He pulled you in closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You gasped and tightened your grip around him as he effortlessly lifted you up so you were sitting on his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and gently bit it, drawing a moan from you.

You shifted in his lap, pulling a deep groan from him as he pulled away from your lips to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt him suck on your collarbone and upper chest to leave marks for him to see the next day. Just as Jungkook slipped his cool hands under your shirt, a startling voice rang from the other side of the door.

“Jungkook!”

The long-haired boy beneath you groaned in annoyance but continued to kiss you. “Just ignore him, he’ll go away,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips as he dragged his hands against the skin of your stomach.

You nodded, embracing the fiery feeling of his kisses and his hands against your bare skin.

“Jungkook!” the voice cried again, causing Jungkook to curse and groan again. “It’s urgent!”

“This better be good,” Jungkook grumbled as he reluctantly pulled away from you.

You frowned at the loss of his touch, but you didn’t have much time to mourn it as he instantly straightened his back once Namjoon said, “It’s about Project B.”

Your brows raised at Jungkook’s sudden reaction to whatever this “Project B” was. He turned to you with an apologetic look before gently setting you onto the bed and moving towards the door.

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly as he straightened his shirt. “I’ll talk to you tonight, I promise.” With that, he was out the door, leaving you in his room with only your thoughts (and hands and knees that had yet to be fully bandaged).

It had been nearly 8 hours since Jungkook had promised that he would speak to you at night. By now, the moon was high in the sky, it’s radiant glow doing nothing to calm your nerves. You knew that whatever Jungkook and Namjoon had to discuss was urgent, but how could he just leave you like that? You were barely able to process the best kiss of your life by the time you realized that you were still sitting stupidly on his bed after he left the room.

You sighed and moved from the window seat in the living room to the kitchen. Joining Jin at the counter, you plopped your head against the stone material with a groan.

“Jungkook and Joon are still in their little lab?” he guessed, nonchalantly flipping his book to the next page.

You nodded pitifully, now knowing that the mysterious room was a lab of some sorts.

“Here,” Jin said before standing suddenly, prompting you to look up at him. He grabbed a bowl of washed fruits from beside the sink and gestured for you to take it. “Bring it up to them.”

“But Jungkook said I ca-”

“I don’t care what he said. Tell him that they shouldn’t have skipped dinner,” Jin instructed firmly.

You nodded, a bit intimidated by Jin’s sudden sternness, and quickly took the bowl with you up the stairs. You slowly approached the door at the end of the hall, the ceramic bowl filled with strawberries and peeled clementines wobbling in your shaky hands. As you took each step, you imagined Jungkook bursting through the door and expressing his disappointment in you for even thinking about entering the room.

Luckily, that didn’t come and you reached the door in less than a minute.

Clearing your throat, you knocked against the door with your elbow. “Jungkook?” you called.

No response.

“Jungkook? Namjoon?” you called again, only to be met with what sounded like a low groan.

Your breath hitched in your throat. That noise didn’t sound pleasant at all.

You placed a weary hand on the door knob but quickly pulled it away as if it was burning hot. Debating thoughts battled in your hand: Jungkook clearly told you not to go in the room but what if Jungkook or Namjoon was in trouble? Wouldn’t leaving despite knowing that one of them could be hurt make you a terrible person (or girlfriend—you didn’t really know what you and Jungkook were yet)?

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the silver doorknob and twisted it open. You stepped into the dimly lit room slowly, gasping at the sight before you.

“Lab” was definitely the right word to describe the room that almost mirrored your high school chemistry class. Seven tables sat in the room, four of which were filled with stacks of papers and folders while the other three had various lab equipment tools atop the black tabletops. It didn’t just end at the tables either.

“What is all this?” you mumbled to yourself as you examined the crowded walls. There was barely an inch of blank wall left as papers, newspaper clippings, photos (some rather disturbing), and notes decorated the wall like a second wallpaper.

You slowly walked through the room, examining the items pinned to the walls. Most of it was related to the zombie apocalypse, with newspapers (from when those were still around) detailing the first outbreaks and theories of the cause and papers filled with concepts you barely remembered from chemistry, physiology, and biology. Accompanying the scientific notes and articles were several pictures, some of zombies and others of medical abnormalities that you couldn’t quite explain.

One picture caught your eye, and you barely managed to place the fruit bowl down on a table with just enough space for it before you rushed over to the photo. The aged photo had three people, presumably a family, in it. A mother and father stood proudly behind their son, their hands on his shoulders as he beamed at the camera with his hands on his lap. The boy looked familiar. His round eyes and bunny-like smile eerily reminded you of -

“What are you doing?”

The unexpected voice sent a shiver down your body, and you jumped as you turned around to face him.

Jungkook.

You mentally hit yourself — you were so distracted by the items of the room that you failed to notice Jungkook waking up at his spot with Namjoon, slouched over and faces pressed onto one of the paper-filled tables.

“Um,” you started, unable to find the right words as you stared at his unreadable facial expression. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed, sad, scared, or possibly even all four.

He let out a frustrated groan and ran his tattooed hand through his long hair. “Just tell me what you saw,” he instructed firmly.

“N-not much!” you stuttered, your eyes wide. “I — Jin fruit! Yes! I just came here to bring you Jin — I mean fruit! I came to bring you fruit! Like Jin told me to!” Heat spread across your face as you attempted to explain yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed between you and the ceramic fruit bowl you pointed to, and he would’ve laughed at your clear disarray if he didn’t feel so anxious.

“You were looking at the walls, you must have seen something,” he deduced.

Your body stuttered as you gestured towards the photo you were looking at. “Nope! Just some things about zombies and… and this picture of you — fun stuff!”

He sighed and you cringed as he placed his hands on your shoulders. But he didn’t scold you or tell you how disappointed he was like you expected; instead, he let his head fall and mumbled something that you weren’t sure if it was meant towards you or himself.

“I guess it’s time I told you the truth.”

Your brows furrowed at his words. The truth? Judging by the contents of the room, they were studying the zombies; and it wasn’t all that surprising considering that Namjoon was technically a scientist and almost-doctor. Why was Jungkook so afraid to tell you?

He lifted his head up, and your heart clenched at the look of pure vulnerability on his face. “Will you promise me that you won’t judge me or run away?” he whispered.

You nodded. “Of course.”

“My parents were scientists who worked for the national lab. I didn’t really know what happened at their work or what projects they were doing because I was in university doing my own stuff,” he paused and briefly closed his eyes to take in a deep breath, “but one day I went home and they told me about an idea they had that was so great.

Super humans, they said. Humans with enhanced senses that would make them superior to regular humans and form the perfect army. I told them it was a shitty idea and that this was stuff they shouldn’t mess with, but they got upset and kicked me out.” He laughed bitterly. “This wasn’t the first time my parents and I ever disagreed on anything, and I thought they were smart enough to not go through with it so I just left. But I guess I was wrong because one day something at the lab went wrong.”

Jungkook hesitated for a second upon seeing the disturbed expression on your face — you knew exactly where this was heading.

He willed himself to continue. “A few months later I got a call from the hospital. They told me that my parents were severely injured while at work, and when I went to see them, they told me the truth of what happened: how they went through with the project but realized too late that it was a mistake, how they were trapped by the government, and how they created monsters.

My parents died from their injuries two days later, and a week after that there was a covered-up breakout at the lab they worked in. Only one day after the breakout, there was the first outbreak in the city only a few miles away. And now we’re here, trying to find a cure for the mess my parents started.”

“I’m sorry,” you immediately said, a mournful expression on your face. You couldn’t imagine the guilt and sorrow that Jungkook must feel.

He scoffed. “Sorry? Why are you apologizing? This entire thing is my fault,” he muttered.

Your face fell and you moved to grasp his hands. “Jungkook, I don’t see how any of this is your fault,” you spoke honestly, your voice soft.

His eyes widened and he pulled his hands away from you. “Y/N, my parents are the reason this apocalypse happened! And - and they told me about their idea and I didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“You did what you could,” you stressed. “You told them it was a bad idea and they made their own adult decision to go through with it.” You took a step closer to him and looked at him in the eyes. “You can’t blame yourself for your parents’ actions.”

He shook his head and looked away. “I should’ve fought harder,” he countered stubbornly. “I’m a terrible person.”

“Jeon Jungkook, look at me.” You used your finger to turn his head so his gaze was directed towards you again. “You are not a terrible person. If you were, you wouldn’t have saved me that day at the grocery store or risked your life to get me pads or spending your days working to find a cure that isn’t even your responsibility.” You took another step towards him and slowly wrapped your arms around him. “You’re a good person, Jungkook. I’m saying this from the bottom of my heart,” you murmured with your head against his chest.

He was silent for a few moments until his body relaxed into your hold. “Thank you,” he mumbled as he gripped your waist and upper back and rested his head atop of yours. “Do you still feel… the same for me?” he questioned cautiously.

“No,” you answered quickly, causing him to quickly pull away from you in offense. You giggled at his reaction before continuing, “I like you even more now. You were honest with me and now I feel closer to you.”

His face relaxed as he let out a relieved sigh before bringing you back into his arms again. And for a few moments, the two of you simply basked in each others’ embrace.

Jungkook was the first to break the silence. “We’re not very close to finding the solution, you know,” he mentioned with a disappointed tone.

You shrugged. “It’s ok. This isn’t something you can really rush, but I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

He pulled his head back to look down at you, a gentle expression painted on his face. “Promise?”

You smiled at him. “I promise,” you whispered before you moved to close the distance between your lips and kiss him once again.

The future was unsure for you and Jungkook and tomorrow or the next week wasn’t guaranteed. But you were sure that if there was anyone you wanted to survive and overcome a zombie apocalypse with, it was Jungkook (and his unconventional group of friends that he calls his family).

a/n: ngl i would feel so safe in a zombie apocalypse w bts akjnkas. also might write a drabble about hobi in this plot hehe. i hope you enjoyed and pls leave comments as they’re rlly encouraging and will help me improve in the future :’))

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungguk #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #park jimin #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #hobi #min yoongi #Jung HoSeok #bts zombie au #bts fanfiction

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mysteryartisticwriter · 4 years

Text

Body Stealing Black-Eyed Bitch (2) // Jack Kline/Belphegor X Reader

A/N: This is part two so make sure you go read the first one in order for this one to make much more sense lol. This one is actually a lot longer than the first one because me being stupid didn’t equal it out.

TAKES PLACE DURING 15x01 (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: Kinda...people wanted this second part but I was gonna make it anyway

Warnings: Blood, some forms of gore, some angst, and some heavy makeout session

PART 1

Not my gifs!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

The guys ran to the doors to check the outside while you stayed back and stared down the demon. He noticed you looking at him and smiled.

“What? No thank you?”

You scoffed. “As if I’ll ever thank you.”

You and Belphegor followed the older men to the outside. You exited the tomb and saw that the sky was still an eerie dark black, but the several dead walking bodies had collapsed on the ground, lifeless once more.

“Hey, it worked! High five!” Belphegor cheered, lifting his hand for high five that one paid any attention to.

“The spirits have been destroyed.” Castiel said, looking around the graveyard.

“No, I actually just blasted them out of those bodies.” Belphegor walked past the four of you.

“So where are the ghosts, then?” Dean asked.

Belphegor didn’t really give a proper answer and you all just sighed then headed toward the chevy impala. As always, Dean was driving and Sam was in shotgun. You, Castiel and Belphegor sat in the back, much to yours and Cas’ distaste. It was a bit worse for you since you were trapped in the middle of the two, meaning you were closer to the demon.

The five of you drove down the dark road as Sam checked online if there was anything on the news. Belphegor was checking out his vessel in the car’s mirrors.

“I mean, come on. I look good.” He said while fumbling with his glasses.

“Don’t get used to it.” You barked, your arms crossed and face blank.

“I’m gonna have to, sweetheart.”

“Anything?” Dean asked his brother, changing the subject.

Sam glanced at Dean with a strange look. “No, not yet. I mean, the news, they didn't...it just... I'm not seeing anything about a worldwide zombie apocalypse.”

“So... Ghostpocalypse. Maybe it's just happening here.” Dean suggested.

But Belphegor shrugged from the backseat next to you.

“Eh, for now. I mean the souls gotta go somewhere, right?”

“Yeah, how many are we talking about, by the way? Souls?” Sam asked, turning his body to face Belphegor.

“In hell?”

“Yes.”

“Two...three billion.” The demon shrugged nonchalantly.

Your eyes widened while Sam and Dean shared a dour face. They knew lots of souls escaped from Hell but not that many.

“Alright. Let's just stick to the plan, alright? We head back to the bunker, figure out how to close the rift.” Dean said.

Belphegor sucked in a breath. “If you can.”

You glared your eyes to him.

“Yeah well, you got a better idea?” You snapped.

“I do not. But if you wanted to buy some time, you could always contain the ghosts.” He told you.

“Contain them how?” Asked Sam.

“Magic.” He answered, as if it was obvious.

“And you just happen to know the right spell?” Cas pointed out.

“Lucky you.” Belphegor said, smirking at you.

You just rolled your eyes and sank back into your seat.

“What do you mean by "contain"?”

“Imagine a salt circle a mile wide. No ghosts get in, no ghosts get out.”

“No,” Castiel interjected. “That town, Harlan, Kansas is less than a mile from the cemetery.”

“Then we get everyone out.” Dean deadpanned.

“How?”

“We lie.”

It was already light once you guys arrived back in the town. Sam left the car to speak to the sheriff about the town’s evacuation, you, Dean, Cas and Belphegor were left in the car.

“We can handle the evac, so why don't you grab Crowley Jr. here whatever he needs for his spell?” Dean told you and Cas.

“No.”

“I’m not doing that.” You both protested at the same time.

“What?” Dean confusingly asked.

Castiel looked anywhere but Belphegor. “Dean, I can't. I-I...I can't even look at him.”

A terrible silence went through the car before Cas finally just sighed and left the car. Dean just turned back into his seat and pulled out his extra pistol, opening the glove compartment and shoving it in there out of plain sight. Belphegor took notice and looked over the seat to see what he hid.

“Uh, what’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, cool.”

Dean looked at you in his rearview mirror and sighed.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna need you to help...Belphegor find his supplies and seal up the town. Once you finish the spell, come find us, okay?”

“I am not dealing with him...I can’t. This demon is inhabiting Jack’s-” You stopped. “He’s using his body, Dean.” You confessed to the eldest Winchester brother.

“Sorry, but I’m not asking, Singer.” Dean scolded you, using your last name.

Whenever he used it, you knew he meant business. No one ever called you by your adoptive father’s last name but the Winchesters and that only happened in times where you really pissed them off. You just scoffed and scooted farther away from the demon next to you.

Being near Belphegor kept reminding you that the love of your life was gone forever. Every memory, good and bad, about Jack replayed in your mind. From when you first found him, to teaching him to control his powers or even when he ran away. Your heart and mind ached, ached for your love back.

You noticed that Dean and Belphegor stepped out of the car so you followed on your side. Dean gave you strict instructions about the demon (mainly on making sure he didn’t go rogue and kill you) and then left you alone with him.

As you walked down the street, Belphegor walked next to you and watched several people who walked past you two. He eyed their appearances then whispered to you.

“So, people are, like, crazy good-looking now, eh?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in a mix of irration and confusion. “What?”

“I mean, the last time I was on Earth, when I was human. Ah, it was a while ago. I mean, but, you know, we were all worshipping this giant rock that looked like a huge penis, and...”

“Ew, dude, TMI.” You grimaced.

“It’s true! Anyway, folks back then, they were, uh, ugly. You know? Had a lot of humps. I mean, a lot. Look at 'em now,” Belphegor stared at your body and smiled. “I mean, look at you. I mean, you're, uh, you know, beautiful.”

You halted in your tracks and a memory popped into your mind.

“You’re very pretty, (Y/n).” Jack told you.

You looked up at him in surprise. The two of you were just in the middle of searching for a case in the bunker’s library when he broke the silence with his words. Jack was just staring at you with a lovestruck gaze and you blushed heavily.

“Thank you, Jack. I think you’re very pretty, too.” You replied, trying to focus on your computer.

“No, no, I mean it.” You looked back up at him, staring into his piercing eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

A tear escaped your eye before you had a chance to wipe it away. Belphegor saw you had stopped walking so he looked to you and saw your bleak expression.

“Um... you good?” He asked, going to shake your shoulder but was stopped by you grabbing his wrist.

“Never touch me. Never call me beautiful. And don’t you ever ask me if I’m good,” You furiously wiped at the tears in your eyes. “Because I am never good.”

You could see out of the corner of your eyes that some people were starting to stare at you two. Although you were still angry, you let go of his wrist.

“Let’s just get your shit and get out of here. Wh-When are you gonna get out of that body, anyway?” You asked.

“Eh, when I find another one. I mean, I would've jumped at the cemetery, but all those meat suits were a little too, uh, you know, wormy. Difficult to blend, if you will.” Belphegor droned on.

“Yeah...sure.”

“So, uh...who was...he, anyway?”

You turned to him but continued walking. “What?”

“Well, I know he was your boyfriend and all but uh...who was this kid?” He curiously asked.

You hesitated before answering.

“His name was Jack. He was a lot of things. To the boys he was their kid. Kinda. But to me,” You swallowed. “He was important. My love, my light, my everything. And now he’s gone, with you inside his corpse.”

The demon could see the emotion in your eyes, even if you did try to keep a straight face, Belphegor could see what you were truly feelings.

“Oh. Uh...sorry.”

You shook your head and carried on.

“So, what do you need for this spell?

“You know, nothing much. Big bag of salt.”

“Easy.”

“And a...and a human heart.”

You physically groaned. You really need a break from death.

You exited the convenience store with a huge bag of rock salt. Turning to your left, you entered an alleyway where Belphegor was leaning against a brick wall. He noticed you coming toward him and brushed off his vessel’s clothing.

“Here’s your salt.” You said, handing him the bag.

“I’m going to call Dean about the heart. Maybe he knows a way to get one.”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and began to search for Dean’s number in your contacts until you saw Belphegor staring at you. For a moment, he reminded you of Jack and his innocent gazes.

“Is there a problem?” You asked. He shook his head.

“No, no, it’s just...you’re very popular in hell.”

“I am?” You asked, pretty curious.

“Yeah. I mean, you may not be Winchester famous but still really well known.” The demon affirmed.

“And how exactly am I “well known” among Hell? I’ve been with the boys for almost eight years now and no demon has ever told me that I’m popular.”

“Kevin Tran, duh. He always talks about you, talks about how you were his best friend and how much he missed you- god he was so whinny.”

You stared at the demon with a blinking look, not sure if you had hear him correctly.

“K-Kevin? Kevin Tran?” You wanted him to confirm. He nodded.

“But God said- Chuck said he was going to Heaven. Kevin is supposed to be in Heaven!” You fumed, getting angrier by the second.

First that son of a bitch messed up your lives for his own entertainment, then he kills Jack, and now apparently he didn’t even send your old best friend to Heaven like he said he would! That lying bastard.

“I’m going to fucking kill that bastard of a writer.”

“Woah, woah, chill. Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to be calm! My best friend is in Hell!”

Your breathing started to pick up, your mind clouded by anger and you paced back and forth in the ally way. You didn’t even notice Belphegor come up to you and grab you by the shoulders.

Not really knowing anything else to do, Belphegor lifted your chin and smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widened in surprise and didn’t even have a chance to respond to the kiss. Because he was using Jack’s body, he tasted like him, felt like him and even the way he held you felt like Jack. For a moment, you forgot that it wasn’t Jack in his body, it was a demon.

After feeling you not freaking out anymore, Belphegor let you go and stared you in the eyes, you staring at your shocked reflection in his sunglasses.

“You calm now?”

You weren’t even thinking anymore. It had felt like forever since you kissed Jack, and even though your mind knew it wasn’t him, your body still craved for his touch again. Without even thinking, you forced your lips back onto his.

Belphegor responded almost immediately, kissing you with just as much passion as you did. His kisses were different, not the soft and sweet kind that your Jack and you always shared. No, this was different, what you felt was true lust and roughness.

You felt him push you up against the brick wall he was leaning against and you could feel his hips grind into yours. You moaned into the kiss, feeling Belphegor’s smirk against your lips. One of his hands found their way from your hips and almost up your shirt.

The hot and heavy kiss had only lasted for a while until Belphegor let your lips go. His stupid and cooky smirk was plastered on his face.

“Come on, we got a bunch of souls and ghosts to seal into this town, right?”

The demon walked past you and out of the alleyway, standing at the end and waiting for you. After everything that’s happened to you in the past couple of days, you managed to make a tiny smile at him.

Later, after calling Dean, you told him about the heart you needed for the spell and he suggested you going to morgue. You and Belphegor walked down the empty street, heading to your destination.

“So...about that heart.” He brought up the subject again.

“On it. Dean said that we could probably just head down to the morgue.”

You saw the demon shrug and scrunch up his face.

“Hmm. Fresh, it'd be... it would be better.”

You were about to answer when a man screaming in the distance caught your attention. Immediately, you ran towards the sound with Belphegor following behind you. You went down the street and around the corner to see the town’s sheriff laying on the ground, dead.

You kneeled down to the body and saw a closer look to his neck. There were deep scratches that cut deep and blood drained from his body onto the pavement.

You internally gagged, but managed to keep it down and covered your mouth with your hand. Belphegor wasn’t very affected from the dead man on the ground.

“Hmm, cool.”

You looked up to him with a weirded out face, he just shrugged as if it was nothing. Then again, he was a torturer in Hell for thousands of years.

“Fuck...”

“Yeah. Yeah, poor guy.” Belphegor said with no sympathy at all.

He leaned down toward the body and pushed his hand into the man’s chest, you backing away in disgust and shock. Belphegor pulled out a fresh, bloody heart and showed it to you.

“Well, I got a heart,” Bel smirked and held the organ out to you. “I would give it to you but-”

“I don’t care.” You deadpanned.

He raised his hands up in defense.

Suddenly, the air around you turned cold and when you exhaled, your breath turned white. You knew what this was, a ghost was near.

“We need to move. Now.” You commanded the demon until you heard a voice from behind you.

“Can you take me home?”

You turned around to see the woman in white that Sam and Dean had told you about, the first hunt they went on that started them on this journey together. She whipped her hand out and you went flying towards a nearby dumpster and some boxes.

You took a moment to breath and saw the woman walking towards Belphegor, ready to attack him. The demon backed away, still carrying the heart.

“O-Oh, hey. Look, okay?” He stammered, putting his hand out in front of him.

“Bad ghost! Bad!”

She once again swiped her hand at his lifted hand and created deep scratches into his palm. He winced at the pain and held his hurt hand close to his chest.

Just as the woman was about to pounce on him, you quickly grabbed an iron pole from the boxes and swung at the ghost with all your might. She disappeared right away but you knew she would be back.

“Bel, spell, now. Let's get the salt.”

After running back to grab the salt you had left in the alleyway, you grabbed it and poured it all into a large pile in the middle of the now deserted street. Belphegor then set the dead man’s heart in the center of the salt.

“We good?” You asked.

“We’re good.”

He stood firmly and began to chant the spell.

“Animi...infernorum...spiritus abyssi surrecti...defigo...vos intra confinia. Vinciamni!”

As the salt and heart began to glow red, Belphegor set his hand firmly into the street in front of the ingredients. A powerful wave washed over the whole town then everything went back to being quiet once more.

After meeting up with the boys, along with a mom and her young daughter, you all rode back into the high school to drop off the little family. There wasn’t enough space in the backseat of the impala so you kind of just ended up sitting on top of Belphegor’s lap.

Dean stopped the car in a parking spot and him, along with his brother, turned to face the five of you in the back.

“So, what now?” The mother asked.

“Okay. You two go inside. We'll take care of the town.” Sam told them.

“And maybe don't tell anybody about the whole ghost thing.” Dean added.

“Or the angel thing.” Cas said, looking towards the girl and her mom.

“Yeah, that... that might freak them out.”

Belphegor scoffed from beneath you. “Uh, might?”

You elbowed the demon in the stomach, causing him to groan in pain. You then smiled softly towards the two.

“You’ll be okay, stay safe, alright?”

The mother and daughter left the car and you finally were able to get off of Bel’s lap. It was pretty uncomfortable for you but obviously, Belphegor had enjoyed every bit of it.

Dean drove off to the middle of the parking lot and stepped out of the car, everyone already had gotten off as well. He walked up to you standing next to Belphegor.

“Good to know that the spell worked. He cause any trouble?” Dean questioned, nodding towards the demon who just waved at him.

You looked at Bel then back to the tall man and shook your head.

“No. No, not really. Surprisingly, Bel is pretty okay for a demon. He can’t replace...”You stopped for a moment. Then you remembered the kiss in the alleyway, feeling guilty. “He didn’t cause any trouble. We’re fine.”

Dean looked suspiously between you and Belphegor but nodded and walked over to Cas. You turned over to the demon who was leaning against Baby.

“Bel, what happened in the alleyway...that can’t happen again. I-I mean, I just lost Jack and I can’t-”

Belphegor interrupted you before you could continue.

“Calm yourself, sweetheart. What happened in the alleyway can be our little secret, all right?” He raised his eyebrow in a sly manner, making you slightly giggle, something you haven’t done in a while.

“Our secret.”

You saw his left hand and remembered how the woman in white did some damage to it. You held your hand out so you could take a closer look at it.

“Let me look at your wound.”

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ve been through worse.”

“Don’t care. Give me your hand.” You persisted.

Belphegor sighed and lifted his hand to allow you to grab it. You looked over the three deep scratches in his palm and bit your lip in slight disgust. You dropped his hand.

“Let’s clean that up.”

You grabbed some supplies from the Winchester brothers since they were fixing up Sam’s almost infected bullet wound. Taking a piece of bandage, you cleaned up Bel’s scars then wrapped his hand.

“You really care about me, don’t you?” He teased, cockily.

You scoffed.

“You’re in Jack’s body, I don’t anything happening to yo- it. You’re still a body stealing black-eyed bitch, Bel.”

A/N: Oh my god, it’s like 7am and I have been up working on this since 1am. I really need food and sleep. Stay safe, loves!

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my Supernatural stories!

Someone messaged me and asked me if I could tag them but I completely forgot who so whoever messaged me, please do it again so I can add you!

TAGGED:

@shortwinchester

@coltcas

@urlaslongasafalloutboysongtitle

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your-mom-is-a-hoe · 4 years

Text

A Poisoned Love’s Kiss

So,, I guess I post fanfics here now? Sometimes-

Anyways, I wanted to do this because recently I’ve been absolutely fanpersoning over Roceit, so here you goo!

Based off of this lovely person’s comic:

https://waokevale.tumblr.com/post/618959675571978240/reverse-au-roceit

Title: A Poisoned Love’s Kiss

Genre: Umm- Angst. Whole lotta angst. With no happy ending. (Unless..?)

Fandom: Sanders Sides!

AU: Villain Swap!AU

Ship: 100% Roceit

Word Count: 2429

TW: Spiders

It was a normal day. Janus was cooking in the kitchen, stirring what seemed to be a soup of some kind. He was humming a small tune, completely unaware of the other sides’ presence as Roman spoke. “Oh, Januuus~”

Janus’ eyes went wide as he took a deep breath, turning around. Roman walked into the kitchen as Janus replied. “What do you want, Pride?”

Roman smirked, a glint of evil in his eyes as he mused. “You know exactly that that is not my name, dear Janus..” As he spoke, he walked closer and closer to the yellower side, now towering over him as Janus looked at him with fear. “And how can you not know what I came for?”

“R-Roman..” Janus spoke, reaching for the spoon placed carefully on the countertop behind him. “I wasn’t expecting you…” As he took hold of the spoon, he reached over to Roman, exclaiming “Here..!” and “S-stay back!” as Roman held his hands up to defend himself from Janus’ attacks.

Roman sighed, repeating himself as he took the spoon, now having both of the sides holding different ends. “Jannie, Jannie Jannie..” He pulled himself closer to Janus as Janus stared back with fear, a few wisps of their hairs meeting. “We both know.. That you would never hurt me.” Janus, now being forced to meet Roman’s eyes, stuttered on his own words. “I-I..”

Roman smiled, placing a hand to the side of Janus’ face as his thumb rubbed his cheek ever so softly. “My dear, sweet Jannie..” About a quarter of Janus’ iris went red, parting from it’s usual yellow. “Can’t you just give in and let me love you..?” Janus’ fearful face now looked tired, almost hazy as the rest of his iris went a bright, almost pale red. Roman smiled, now bringing his face closer to Janus’ as Janus didn’t seem to react. “That’s right, darling. Give in..”

As Roman was about to meet Janus’ lips, there was a shout coming from the kitchen entrance. “HEY!” Roman picked up his head, away from Janus as his face turned into pure shock.

Virgil spoke, shouting at Roman as Remus followed. “Stay away from him, Pride!” “Yeah, leave him alone, brother!” Roman let go of Janus’ face, now turned towards the other two as Janus seemed to be broken from his trance. “Ugh.. Caution.. Brother…”

Roman shrugged, now smiling once again. “Oh well..” Janus blinked, looking around confusedly before collapsing on the ground as Virgil and Remus spoke in unison. “Janus!” Roman continued, not even looking to see if Janus was alright. “I guess you caught me this time..” He hunched over, meeting Virgil’s eye level. “Just so you know.. I’ll be back~” Virgil now stared at Roman with fury on his face. “I hope the fuck not.”

After Roman sunk down, Virgil and Remus immediately ran over to Janus, crouching down next to him. Virgil was the first to speak. “Janus, are you okay?” Janus looked up at Virgil tiredly, still confused. “W... What happened?” Both were holding Janus up for support, making sure he could at least stand straight as Remus spoke. “Bro-bro did something to you..” Virgil, now hugging Janus, smiled. “We’re glad you’re okay, though.” Janus gave a small laugh, accepting the hugs. “Haha, thanks.”

However.

What if everything wasn’t as it seems? What if it was all an illusion? What if, indeed, this story might not get a happy ending?

C’mon, I’m not all fluff and fluffangst. I know how to write with an evil mind.

Janus’ eyes went wide as he took a deep breath, turning around. Roman walked into the kitchen as Janus replied. “What do you want, Pride?”

Roman smiled sinisterly, placing a hand to the side of Janus’ face as his thumb rubbed his cheek ever so softly. “My dear, sweet Jannie..” About a quarter of Janus’ iris went red, parting from it’s usual yellow. “Can’t you just give in and let me love you..?” Janus’ fearful face now looked tired, almost hazy as the rest of his iris went a bright, almost pale red. Roman smiled, now bringing his face closer to Janus’ as Janus didn’t seem to react. “That’s right, darling. Give in..”

Roman smiled, leaning in towards Janus as he lifted the entranced sides’ chin up. Slowly, their lips met, and when Roman pulled away, Janus took in a sharp inhale. Virgil and Remus ran in as Virgil gasped for air. “We’re- We’re too late..”

Janus had a tint of yellow in his eyes, just a circle, as Roman lifted his chin up one more time. He leaned in again, this time whispering something in Janus’ ear as Janus collapsed, the color completely drained from him. His eyes, his pale skin, even tips of his hair which he had died a tiny bit of yellow had been neutralized as he hit the floor. Remus ran up to Janus as Virgil froze from fear. His thoughts echoed all around his head. Fight or flight, Virgil? C’mon, you gotta choose! Remus crouched next to Janus’ unconscious body, trying to find a pulse, trying to seek any signs that he’s alive. Remus looked up at Roman, tears in his eyes as he started to shout. “How COULD YOU?!” Roman smirked, leaning towards Remus. As he reached a hand out, Remus swatted him away. “NO- Don’t tOUCH ME, you VILLAIN!” Roman was about to retoil, but stopped in the middle of his sentence. “Oh, sweet little bro-” He took in a sharp, shuddered inhale as Remus realized what he had just done. Roman looked at Remus with such amounts of rage, not even I could explain it. His voice sounded tense, like you could cut through it with a knife. “What did you just call me?” Remus became furious. His eyes narrowed angrily as he replied. “You v i l l a i n.” And just as he appeared, Roman was gone. No signs of leaving, no trace of ever being there, except for- “JANUS-” Virgil finally mustered out. His breathing was rapid, more rapid than usual as he grasped clutches of his hair. Remus flinched, turning to Virgil’s panicking body. “Shit- shitshitshit- I-is hE WAKING UP?” Virgil ran over, sitting next to Janus’ unconscious corpse as Remus pleaded. “Please, please, please, just- wake up!” ...After what seemed like hours of failed attempts to bring Janus back to “life,” Virgil sighed. “...It’s no use. He’s gone, isn’t he?” Remus shook his head. “No. There has to be SOMETHING we can do to help him! What- What about true love’s kiss, huh? Those always seem to work in- in fairy tales and Disney movies!” Virgil placed a shaky hand on Remus’ shoulder. Although he himself was freaking out, he tried to keep his composure as his thoughts echoed around his head. Fight or flight, V i r g i l? Virgil took a shaky breath as he spoke. “Remus, we’re not-.. We’re not in a Disney movie, or a fairytale, or a fanfiction of any kind! Plus, even if it did work, who would even BE Janus’ ‘true love’?” Remus, in a sudden outburst of rage, shouted. “I DON’T KNOW! Maybe ROMAN could, like, REVeRSe it?!” Virgil looked into Remus’ eyes for a moment, frozen, as his thoughts continued. FIGHT OR FLIGHT, VIRGIL? His breathing quickened as he shifted between Remus’ two eyes. Remus blinked a few times before realizing that was a mistake. “Shit- Virgil, I’m sorry-” Without saying anything, Virgil took a shuddered breath as he picked Janus up. He started walking to Janus’ room as he mumbled a few words, just within earshot of Remus. “Yeah, maybe he can..”

It had been quite some time as Remus and Virgil searched for Roman around the mindscape. Patton was crying as ever, seemingly unable to talk through the sobs. Logan was of no help. Apparently to him, the whereabouts of all sides is “entirely confidential,” as he put it. Remus sighed as Virgil paced around Janus’ room, where Janus had been laid down in his bed gently. “What if he’s dead? Gone, forever? W-what if we never see him again, or Roman doesn’t wanna help-” He hadn’t noticed he had stopped moving a while ago, just walking in place as Remus held his shoulders. “Of course Roman’s not gonna want to help, so we’re gonna have to make him help, duh.” Virgil took a deep breath. “Right, yeah, shouldn’t be too hard! ..Right-?”

There were the traps. There were traps everywhere, set up specifically to catch Roman and make him bring Janus back (If he even could, for that matter). As Roman walked throughout the hallways, he noticed something. A patch of leaves, just sitting there, in front of him. He crouched next to the leaves, making sure no one was watching as he moved a few of them.

Then, all of a sudden, he was hanging upside down, his legs wrapped in some strong rope. No, not rope- Silk.. Weird- But anyways, Remus walked out of Janus’ room, happy that his trap was a success as Virgil stayed by Janus’ side. Roman rolled his eyes as Remus began his speech. “Well, well, well, how the turns have tabled!” Roman cut him off, snapping at Remus as his patience ran thin. “Remus, what do you want?” Remus crossed his arms. “Wow, alright, cutting right to the chase, I see- Well, we want you to bring Janus back.”

Roman smirked, finally bursting into laughter as he hung from the ceiling. “YOu- You want ME to bring JANUS bacK? PFFFFt- Remus, I knew you were daft, but not THIS much!” Remus frowned, crossing his arms. “Says the side being hung from the ceiling.” Roman shrugged. “You’ve got me there. But what makes you think I’d want to help you anyways?” Remus’ lips formed into a smile as he looked up at Roman. “Well, you are being hung up there, aren’t you? Don’t you want to get out?” Roman rolled his eyes, trying to squirm out. If he could just summon his sword..- Roman screamed. Like, a banshee screech. He couldn’t help it, there were 4 pairs of eyeballs and 8 little furry legs staring back right into his eyes, just sitting on his face. “Oh, yeah, there’s also them.” Roman nearly fainted, taking a moment to process Remus’ words. “Wait- There are MORE?” A few more spiders crawled onto Roman. He could feel them, he knew they were there, but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t dare look away from the spider right in front of him, threatening to rip out his soul if it tried hard enough. Roman weighed his options as Remus tapped his foot impatiently. Try to help Janus and probably fail, or decline the offer and get a bath full of spiders? It seemed he had only one choice. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

Remus smiled. Maybe there was hope for Janus after all! He called to Virgil and the spiders retreated as Roman fell to the ground, face-first. He sighed, trying to stand up, but alas failed, as he had no arms. Remus steadied Roman, forcing him to walk inside the room and up to Janus’ bed. When they got to the bed, Virgil finally took his precious silk back, stuffing it in one of his hoodie pockets as he eyed Roman suspiciously. Roman rolled his eyes, leaning down to Janus before mumbling something. “How are you even sure this won’t kill him any more?” Virgil snarled, “Just do it.” as he continued to stare Roman down. Roman sighed, planting a soft kiss on Janus’ lips as he stood back up, waiting to see what would happen. After the longest minute of everyone’s lives, a few of Remus’ tears fell to the ground. Virgil started panicking. “No- nononono, this can’t happen! This WASN’T supposed to happen. FIX HIM, Roman, BRING HIM BACK-” Virgil stood there, shouting at Roman, not even realizing that the prideful side was wiping away his own tears. “I’m sorry, Virgil, but it seems that he is a side that cannot be saved.” Remus looked at his own hands, then up at Roman, punching him in the face. By the time Roman had recollected his senses, Remus had already placed an arm around Virgil, trying to make sure he was okay as he carried him to Virgil’s room. Roman sighed, “I supposed that’s fair..” as he, too, made his way out of the room, shutting off the lights, not daring to see Janus’ sleeping face one more time. Not having enough courage to look back at what he had done, even though he wanted so badly to do it.

But, alas, this is one of my stories.. And, well, you know how those end. I did indeed only say “might,” after all...

As Janus’ eyes fluttered open, he caught a glimpse of the prideful side’s cape, picking his head up as he reached out to him. His head quickly fell back down onto the pillow (with the arm following), feeling heavier than he had ever felt before. He heard the faint sound of a clicking door, as his body was still hazy from being in that trance. The last thing he saw before blacking out again was himself, in his mirror, and the bright yellow eyes he had been with for so long.

#ts #ts roceit #ts roman #ts janus #janus #roman #roceit #ts swap!au #ts villain swap!au

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scaryscarecrows · 4 years

Text

Evil Author Day

In another world, Antoine recognizes the boss’s too-casual posture for what it is; a lie, not about his health, but his intentions. And he figures Robin can take a bumped head (Richardson’s already knocked him around, what’s one more bruise, huh?), figures he can risk whatever punishment he earns for disobeying a direct order later, and hauls the Knight out of the library before he can reactivate the electric gate.

He hits the button on the way out, because of course he does, but honestly, it’s not a second too soon; Batman, or whatever that is now, kicks his way out of the grate, angry laughter making Antoine’s skin shudder.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting Robin out of here, sir.”

“Now is not the time for this--”

THUDTHUDTHUD!

“TODD-ERRRS!” That doesn’t sound like Batman anymore. It’s not as high as the real clown, as far as Antoine knows, but it’s close enough to be creepy. Robin and the boss flinch, too, so. This is bad. “You wouldn’t be leaving your Uncle J, would youuuuuuuu?”

“Move,” the boss hisses, ripping Robin off the wall and all but hurling him at Antoine. “I’m right behind you.”

He’d fucking better be. He pulls another stunt like that and he’s getting a backpack leash for Boss’s Day. A fluffy pink poodle with a rhinestone collar.

Robin groans at the manhandling and rasps, “S’going on?”

“What, B neglect to mention the Mad Clown Disease, Eminem?”* More thudding above them and the Knight twists to look at a grate. “Jesus...get back, get back.”

Robin lets himself be dragged as the boss jams what looks like a small mine between the bars. It is a mine; it’s red and beeping.

“C’mon, kid, work with me here.”

“M’not a kid.” Robin tries to straighten up a little more. “The hell’s going on around here?”

“Continuing the family tradition, you got kidnapped by a maniac-get down!”

BOOM!

The explosion, small and contained though it is, shakes the walls. The laughing stops, but Antoine isn’t dumb enough to think that will last.

“...Jason?”

Antoine is willing to acknowledge that there’s a lot to unpack here, but do they have to do this now? Really?

“Gold star, kid-mm.” He freezes, one hand going to the wall to hold himself up. “Shit-okay. Okay…”

“Sir?”

“Twisting like that was bad. I’m okay. Just. Just take him and go.”

Robin takes offense to that, pulling away from Antoine’s friendly, supporting hands and snapping, “I’m not a damsel in distress, I can help.”

The boss might be wobbly, but he’s also spiteful and fast; he pushes himself off the wall, grabs Robin’s wrist, and seethes, “You can help by staying out of the way. If that’s going to be a problem, I’m happy to beat you unconscious and drag you out. Pick one.”

Antoine’s about to step in in case Robin decides to put up a fight, but then there’s a burst of laughter from...somewhere...and the boss shoves the kid back, snapping, “We don’t have all day!”

They don’t even have seconds; there’s the shriek of metal and a shadow comes out of an air duct. Antoine drags Robin towards the exit and wishes the roof would cave in and bury Batman.

It doesn’t, and the shadow stands.

“Naughty, naughty, Todders!”

“Screw you.”

The shadow gasps, hand going to its throat, and comes forward. Robin tries to pull free and Antoine grabs him around the waist and bodily hauls him towards the door. Robin tries to bite him. Fails, but that was an attempt.

“Come on!”

Admittedly, they wouldn’t be in this boat if Robin wasn’t knocked around, but Antione’s glad of it anyway. Makes him easier to manhandle.

“Get off!”

He resists the urge to put the little shit in a chokehold (if there’s anything left of Batman in there, he might be mad; look at Scarecrow). The shadow lunges and the boss moves to cut it off, shouting, “Get going!”

He only feels a little bad for kicking Robin’s legs out from under him so he can drag him more easily. He’ll live. He does feel bad, though, if only because the new angle means he can see the nice, purple lump starting to sprout on the side of his head. Honestly, if it weren’t for that, he’d be tempted to let the kid go and either get out or be useful, but, well…

Trent meets them in the front hall and Antoine pretends he’s not worried about the gunfire. And he’s...sort of not. The fact that there is gunfire is a good sign, right?

“You get everyone out?”

“Yeah--”

“Take this--”

“This can handle himself, you bridge trolls!”

“--the boss was gonna hold Batman, but I don’t--”

“I got him.” Trent picks poor Robin up in a bear hug. To his credit, he still tries kicking. “Jesus fuck, man, come on!”

“Watch his head!” Antoine calls over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back!”

Where are they, anyway? The gunfire’s stopped, which is not making him feel better, and Arkham is silent. No whispers, no echoes, no nothing.

Which means that when the Knight literally falls out of the rafters, Antoine leaps back and...okay, yeah, that was a squeak. Shut up.

“Boss?” He’s not moving. Why is he not moving. “Sir?”

When Batman does not appear, Antoine risks moving a little closer. The Knight’s not dead; he’s shaking and gasping for breath and Jesus that’s a lot of blood on him, but he’s not dead.

“C’mon, we gotta get moving.” Is Batman gone? Maybe he’s gone. Or maybe the blood is his. “Sir? Can you hear me?” No answer, but he’s conscious; when Antoine reaches over to shake him, his hand shoots up and grabs his wrist with enough force to bruise. Okay. Okay. Don’t struggle, don’t freak out. Be chill. Do not worry about permanent maiming...okay, a little bit late for that one. “C’mon, boss, we gotta get out of here before Batman comes back. Okay?”

A beat of silence, then the Knight’s hand falls back to the tiles. Okay. Okay, okay. They literally just have to go straight back and around a corner and straight again, and then they’ll be out. It’s right there. And the tile’s nice and, well, tile-y, so he can drag the boss if he has to.

(He doesn’t wanna have to.)

“Sir?” He doesn’t risk shaking him again. “Can you hear me?”

The Knight’s not looking at him, he’s looking at something way off at the other end of the hall. It’s dark down there, and Antoine really, really hopes he’s looking at Batman’s corpse (not his unconscious body, what if he wakes up?). Or better yet, nothing.

“We gotta go,” he says carefully, starting to resign himself to dragging the boss out of here. (Carry him? That’s a good one.) “Is anything, um, not gonna like moving?”

“Oh, Toddy’s not going anywhere.”

WHAT THE HELL--

He heard that. He knows he didn’t imagine it, because duh, first of all, and second of all, the boss has gone deathly still. But he doesn’t see anything.

Where are you, you son of a bitch?

He keeps his mouth shut, because he’s not dumb enough to goad the Batman, and checks behind him. Nothing. Okay. Okay, fuck Batman, they’re just gonna. Gonna go now, and he can stay here and be creepy all by himself.

“Boss?” he breathes. No answer. Okay. “Hey. We gotta go.”

“Drouot.” Recognition. That’s good. “Wha--” He gags, blood dribbling down his chin and that’s bad that’s really bad. “What are you--”

Okay. It’s twenty feet to the turn. He can do that, easy.

“S’anything broken?”

“Ribs.”

Eh.

“Can you move without, um, permanent damage?”

“Mm…”

“Hey.” He risks giving him a good, hard jab and only feels a little bad when he flinches. “C’mon, talk to me here.”

“Prob’ly.”

...he can work with that.

“Okay...Mark’s gonna be so pissed but too bad…”

“Get down!”

He hits the tiles just as something flies overhead. The something proves to be explosive; there’s the clink! of it striking the wall several feet away, and then a small, but still horrible, boom!

It’s not a big enough explosion to cause much damage, but it certainly could kill a man. Where did that come from...down there, somewhere. But Batman’s probably moved by now.

Time to go.

He scrambles to his feet and hooks his hands under the Knight’s shoulders.

“Okay, come on--”

“Toddy’s not going anywhere.” Oh God. Oh God Oh God Oh God. Where is he, where is he...“Aaaaare you, Jaybird?”

Batman does not step out of the shadows. He fades into view at the end of the hallway and Antoine’s left to wonder if he moved forward or if his eyesight just acclimated enough to spot him. Either way, he’s literally five feet away, teeth shimmering with unswallowed saliva. Blood’s still trickling from the corners of his mouth and his shoulders are hunched, just a little, like he’s restraining himself from outright attacking them.

But he’s just a man. Antoine’s killed men before.

“You stay right there,” he warns, bringing his rifle up and stepping between that...thing...and the boss. Shoulder first, that’s the weak spot and he’s favoring the left one just a little bit. “I will shoot you if you come any closer.”

#evil author day #Jason Todd #Antoine Drouot #the Arkham Knight #Laughing Batman timeline #mad clown disease #is Bruce sick #is he possessed #who knows #Joker is here #in spirit anyway #Tim Drake #Tim's been beat to hell he's not here for long #(sorry Timmy I love you I swear)#Robin

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carringtonblackwood · 4 years

Text

Good Samaritan {PotW}

Night-shift can be a real pain in the neck.

Where: The mostly empty parking lot outside WC Memorial.

When: the evening of May 3rd, 2020 (immediately following this)

Who: Carrington, @deweythedew, and @laylacooke

Triggers: medical blood, gore, injury

Layla had been out roaming the streets of White Crest when night had fallen. She hadn’t intended on being out as late as she had, but, luckily, for her, she had her wolf sense to guide her back to the cabin she was currently staying in with Ari and Ulf. However, as she seemed to move along, something in the air caught her attention. Following her nose, it had led her straight to the culprit. The body of a man lying in a parking lot, not moving. Heart beginning to beat a little harder, Layla glanced around the area hoping to see someone who could help. Anyone that could help. But as she moved closer, she noticed the stench of death, “What...the…” Had it been another mime attack? Was the mime still in the area? Layla, in all the time she had studied the ways of the hunter, had never seen a dead body before, “Um...hey...Why am I speaking to it? Layla...you idiot, if it smells like roadkill, it probably is roadkill…” Finally right next to the man’s form, she slowly bent down, but something stopped her, and instead, she rose back up, “I’ll just…” With her foot, she gently nudged the man to see if her nose had been deceiving her. “Okay, no movement…” Reaching into her pocket, Layla dug out her phone ready to call 911.

Carrington had spent the evening at home, lounging on the sofa and rotating between watching a rather lackluster movie on Netflix, and reading the Stephen King novel he’d recently picked up. Though he found the tale a bit much for his current mood. He simply felt… restless. After awhile, he simply muted the television and closed his eyes, focusing on the white noise of the central heating system as it hummed in the background, hoping to find some of the quiet the world nearly always lacked.

How long he had been out, Dewey truly couldn’t tell. Minutes? Hours? Enough time that any trace of the smoke which had filtered into the air, in all it’s striped mysticism, had entirely vanished, and the small center of the world he found himself in had gone eerily quiet. While he didn’t need to breathe, he didn't have to, he still inhaled a sharp, strangled gasp as his eyes flew open, fingers reaching out for anything to grasp onto - which, in this case, happened to be the red-head’s ankle. Cold fingers locked onto the warmth as his mind scrambled to properly re-align itself, to make sense of what the hell had just happened however long prior to being knocked out.

Layla hadn’t expected him to rise from the dead, but when she felt the grip of his hand on her ankle, she screamed bloody-murder and fell backwards onto the ground. Shaking him off of her, she quickly sprang to her knees and released a low, feral growl towards him. But when she realized he wasn’t a threat, and was actually needing help, she slowly crawled towards him, “Hey...are you-are you okay? D-Do you need me to call for help?” Of course that’s what the poor man needed, but Layla hadn’t ever been in this situation before. As she moved closer, she noticed the blood pouring out of his throat, and quickly put her hands up to try and stop the bleeding.

Right, he was still bleeding. Well, it likely looked far worse than it actually was, taking into account all the black still smeared across his face and shirt. And Dewey still had no idea what to actually make of it all - it had to be some sort of blood… even if it did smell faintly of pastry. No, not the time to think about how insane all of this was. Initially thinking he was about to get attacked once more, he was relieved when she seemed to realize he didn’t mean her any harm. Coughing on a mouthful of stale blood, he parted his lips and began to explain what had happened… only, no sound issued forth. His brow furrowed, and he tried again - with the same result. No sound, no trace of his voice, nothing. He silently swore, head swimming from both confusion and pain. Oh God, how was he meant to communicate anything now? Wait--

Swallowing down another gag, his black-stained fingers fumbled around in his trouser pocket, eventually landing on the form of his cellular. Shakily entering the passcode, he tapped it against the red-head’s side insistently, gaze pleading.

Carrington had had no luck finding anything to distract him this evening. Perhaps he should go for a run. That usually worked. A few miles through the forest might be what he needed. It was a lovely night, and his head was entirely too full of tumbling thoughts for him to stay idle. There were other things he’d much rather be doing. Other people he’d much rather be spending time with. But he didn’t want to be a bother.

A run it was. He pushed up from the sofa and headed upstairs to change into his running gear.

Layla continued to put pressure on the wound. “Please don’t die on me, Mr. Dude. I can’t deal with this, either. Just be okay. Alright. Hang in there...please.” She continued to look around frantically until she noticed him nudging her side. Looking down to see the phone, she released one of her hands from his neck, “What do you want me to do with this? 911?” Realizing he couldn’t speak, possibly from all the blood, her eyes grew wide, “Duh, Layla. Boy’s got a mouth full of blood.” She turned her attention back on him, “I’m gonna call 911 okay? Nod yes if that’s okay...No! Don’t nod...uh, blink twice for yes, if that’s okay!”

Don’t die. Well, technically, he wouldn't. Couldn’t. Technically. Dewey was fairly certain that he hadn’t lost enough blood that it would end in his demise, but definitely enough that it warranted a day’s rest and a generous feeding. He wished he could have said something, anything to assuage her worries, but as it was he was still a soundless, bleeding, essential corpse that could do little other than to gesture and blink. 911 - that would not go over well. At all. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, even mouthing ‘no’, hoping that would convey his answer, before attempting to motion towards his phone again. He would have instantly said to call Carrington, that he would know what to do, but he was fairly certain mouthing his name would do little but confuse her. Damn it all.

Carrington changed into his joggers, a tshirt and hoodie, and his running shoes like usual. But he didn’t feel the usual pull to get out of his home and into the open air. The town was brimming with unease, and he could feel it everytime he walked down the street lately. Shadows moving in corners, gone when he looked their way. Soft shuffling sounds that had no origin he could lock in on. The reports of attacks he’d heard whispered about and posted online. It was enough to make even the centuries old vampire feel… slightly nervous.

Perhaps he should text Dewey. If only so he knew the other man was alright this evening. But he didn’t wish to trouble him just because Carrington felt uneasy. Though he knew he was unlikely to rest easily until that particular worry was put to rest. So he snagged his phone, briefly sitting on his bed to send Dewey a text.

{text}: Is your evening going alright?

Layla looked closely at the man laying next to her. She didn’t want to misread anything, and when she noticed him blink and mouth the word ‘no’, she was a bit confused, “Then...if not the cops, who do you want me to call?” She was just about to dial the number anyways, when she saw a text come through, “Um…” She paused. Was he in his right mind? Was she even equipped to be dealing with this? Her wolf hunter parents had taught her a thing or two about first aid, but it was like everything she had learned was going right out the door, “Some chick named Carrington just texted you?” How was she supposed to know Carrington was a guy. The only time she had ever heard the name was in that Casper movie as a child.

Anyone but the police. God, that would go over even worse. Dewey was about to give up when he heard the familiar text tone of his phone, and when she mentioned ‘Carrington’, his eyes blew wide open and he shakily raised a finger to tap on the screen. Please, please understand what I mean… Or, what I’m trying to convey. Oh hell, this was going about as well as could be expected, wasn’t it? He sighed through his nose, head lolling back a bit as he panted.

When Dewey didn’t text back after a few minutes, Carrington figured he was busy with work, or otherwise occupied, so he grabbed his keys and stuck them in his pocket. Heading outside, he turned to lock the front door, securing his airpods in his ears before heading down the front steps.

She could sense this was who the man had wanted her to contact. Layla could see it in his eyes and considering he was using up valuable strength to tell her that, she knew what she needed to do. Opening the text up, Layla, shakely with one hand, texted Carrington back.

{text:} need help. come quick

Layla sent the text quickly, but realized she hadn’t put the location. “Crap! I didn’t put the location! I don’t even know where we’re at!” She looked to Dewey with desperation in her eyes.

Carrington’s phone pinged just as he was stepping off the curb. He stopped and pulled it out, his neutral expression instantly turning to one of concern. Instantly, he turned back to the house, jogging to the garage and hitting the button to open the automatic door.

(text) On the way. What happened?

He climbed into the Aston Martin and backed out, hitting the app that would send him the location of Dewey’s phone before hitting the Bluetooth that would dial Dewey’s number. He waited in tense anticipation as the phone started to ring.

It was true, the longer he remained without much aside from the red-head hand’s attempting to slow his bleeding, the weaker he was becoming. Dewey blinked hazily, feeling himself hovering on the verge of passing out again. This wasn’t good. He had no way to communicate the necessary information-- Wait. His badge! Fingers fumbled as they dipped into his breast pocket, attempting to unfasten the clip that attached his badge to his shirt. It was tricky with the slippery traction of his fingertips, but he finally managed to pull out the laminated card and tap her thigh with it urgently. There. Hopefully that would be enough, because… he wasn’t sure how much longer he could remain… awake…

Layla looked down to Dewey with a slight, but weary smile on her face, “Carrington’s coming. Hang in there. Help’s going to be here soon.” She was just about to put the phone down and focus on keeping pressure on the wound, when she heard it ring. Seeing the name on the screen pop up, she figured she’d better answer it, “H-Hello? Is this Carrington?” She waited for a voice, panic slightly suppressed, but still apparent. However, the man laying on the ground had gotten her attention once more. Holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, Layla took the badge from him and looked it over, “Dewey. Dewey, why does that name sound so familiar?” She narrowed her eyes, and then it hit her! “Dr. Butthole! You’re the male Dr. Butthole!” She had forgotten about Carrington being on the other end of the phone, and when she saw that he was fading, everything else went by the wayside, including the phone that was now on the ground still connected, “Oh no! No, no!” Putting her other hand back over his neck, she leaned forward with more pressure, “Stay with me Dr. But- Dewey. Do you hear me? You’re not going anywhere! Your girlfriend will be here soon! I hope…”

When the call connected, the voice that came through wasn’t Deweys. Carrington frowned. That never boded well. The woman’s voice was slightly panicked, but she knew his name, so Dewey must’ve been able to ask her to call. Or text in this case. “Yes, this is Carrington. Is Dewey alright?” he asked with no preamble. The woman seemed to be speaking to someone - Carrington could only assume it was Dewey - before she confirmed it. “What’s happened?” Carrington asked, trying to keep his own voice calm over the panic that threatened to rise again from the other end of the call.

There was a huge rush of garbled sound and then the woman’s voice came again, but further away. She’d dropped the phone. “Hello?” he called, making a turn towards the phone's signal. “Hello?!” Something was going terribly, horribly wrong. When the phone wasn’t picked up again, Carrington cursed and put his foot on the gas.

It felt like forever, even though it had to be less than ten minutes since the text had come in (Carrington was certain he would be getting a ticket for running more than one red light, but he couldn’t care less), but eventually Carrington found the source of the phones signal. He came to a screeching halt and exited the car without turning it off. The scene was… horrific. “What’s happened?” Carrington asked the girl, kneeling down next to her and making sure Dewey saw him. He took a moment to touch his face even as he pressed his far larger hand over the bleeding wound in Deweys neck. “It’s alright, darling.”

He turned to the girl. “There’s a green bag in the boot of my car. Would you be so kind as to fetch it for me?”

The hospital, Dewey wanted to rasp out, We’re at the hospital. His lips barely shifted even then, however, the strength slowly being sapped out from him. Though the urge to fade back into nothingness, to slip back into the dark well of unconsciousness was incredibly tempting, hearing Carrington’s voice on the discarded phone, even faintly, managed to bring him back enough to hold onto the small shred of willpower he had left. If it weren’t for that, and the young lady still talking to him, still managing to keep his withering attention, he likely would have gone completely under again.

As it was, Dewey didn’t even register a car approaching; only when Carrington was in his view did he feel a sense of relief flood through him. Oh, thank God. And he hadn’t thanked him in quite some time, but now seemed rather appropriate all the same. The brunette clenched his jaw, lips parted and moving even as no sound issued forth yet again. Although his chest gave a sudden jerk and, without warning, dark crimson spilled past his mouth, dripping copiously down his jaw. Though he whimpered in silence, stained fingers scrambled to grasp onto Carrington’s arm, body shuddering as sobs wracked his thin frame. Was he going to die like this? Bleeding out in the vicinity of a place where he had tried to save so many lives and yet, failed to preserve his own?

Dewey didn’t want to give way to weeping, but, the culmination of it all - the helplessness, the confusion, frustration - he felt broken and weak, even in the arms of someone who had seen him at one of his lowest points. Right now, he wasn’t sure if he could sink any lower besides death. But despite all of the moaning about his lot in life, he very much didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not here. Not when there was so much to do and say, and he couldn’t do or say anything now, and… A trembling hand covered over the one Carrington had clasped against his wound, gaze hazy but attempting to focus on his; apologetic, pleading.

Layla continued to put pressure on the wound, but the headlights of a car gave way to an overwhelming sense of relief. This had to have been Carrington, and even if it wasn’t, maybe they could help her. Help Dewey. Save Dewey. However, at the sound of a man’s voice, Layla’s heart sank. This wasn’t Carrington. Or was it? Before she could answer his question as he settled in next to her, she heard him call Dewey ‘darling’. A wave of emotion swept over her body, and tears seemed to flow freely. Carrington had come, and he would be with his love.

“I found him like this. He was just laying on the ground, when I was on my way home. Please help him.” Tears ran down her cheeks as she finally was able to release her hands from his neck. The request from Carrington came in the form of a blessing to give Layla a bit of a break from all the blood and potential death looming on the horizon, “I’ll get it. I’ll be quick.” And with that she was on her feet and moving towards the car.

As she reached the back and managed to get the trunk open, Layla’s eyes searched for the bag. But before she grabbed it, she had to at least take a breath. She knew she couldn’t wait that long, but when she was able to at least hold in one solid breath and release it, the redhead found herself, bag in hand, moving back to the scene of the crime, “Here you go.” Holding out the bag with bloodied hands, she let her eyes fall back on Dewey praying he would survive.

Whoever or whatever had done this had either known exactly what they were doing. Or they’d gotten lucky. Which narrowed the list to a handful of suspects. Thankfully, the parking lot was otherwise empty. The wound shouldn’t be fatal - thank Christ and all the fucking Saints - but if Dewey lost enough blood it could put him in a coma. Of sorts. “Try not to talk,” he said gently, gripping the hand Dewey latched onto his arm with. He gave it a (hopefully) reassuring squeeze, despite the internal panic he was keeping a tight lid on. When Dewey gripped Carrington’s other hand, the blondes eyes found his. What he saw there, despite the lack of words, would’ve taken away Carrington’s breath, if he had any to give. He spared a long moment to share that look with Dewey, before slowly nodding. ‘I know…’ it said. ‘Me too…’

But Carrington had to turn his focus elsewhere after that. To the girl next to them. She was barely older than a child. “He’ll be alright, I promise,” Carrington told her gently. “You did an excellent job.” She moved off to fetch the bag, and Carrington took that moment to further assess the situation. It… wasn’t ideal. But best to focus on what needed doing now. “Thank you.” He gave the girl - a wolf as far as her scent told him - a nod, and pulled a large pressure dressing from the bag before telling Dewey what he was doing. He wiped as much blood away from the other mans skin as possible before applying the dressing, making sure it was firmly attached before daring to let go. It held, but Carrington put a hand back over it just in case, but also to try and alleviate some of Dewey’s fear.

He glanced at the girl again. “I know you’re a wolf. I’m something too. So is he. So I need you to take a breath, alright? It’s all going to be fine.” He turned back to Dewey. “Can you stand? We need to get you out of here.”

Dewey immediately grimaced at the mention of talking, already feeling a knot form in his gut. Oh, there wouldn’t be much issue with that suggestion. Still, in spite of all the worry, Carrington’s presence alone was enough to assuage the worst of his anxiety. He remained completely imobile as the vampire set about wrapping him up, with all the delicate skill of someone who had obviously done this before. The fact that he had these sort of dressings in his car spoke volumes about what the other was prepared for. He was so intensely thankful for that, but more thankful for the blonde who seemed to know through one look his worst fear and without words, lay them to rest.

When the dressing had been firmly applied, Dewey hesitated before nodding, careful not to move his head about too much. He planted both hands beside him and made an attempt to push his upper body forward, when a dizziness overwhelmed him. He collapsed back onto the ground, hissing inward and panting heavily. Shit. He felt so damned weak. Gaze focused back on Carrington, and he slowly shook his head before mouthing ‘I’m sorry’.

Layla continued to stay back. She didn’t want to get in the way of Dewey getting the care that he needed. In fact, she had backed up to the point of being able to rest on the car. Tonight had been a lot. She hadn’t expected to come across anyone in this condition, let alone it be another creature. But she was just grateful she had been there to help. That hunter training had really paid off. They didn’t need to know that though. Nobody had really needed to know that except the people she had been staying with.

Glancing down at the dried blood on her hands, she began rubbing at it trying to get it off, and before long, she was trying to rub it on her pants. She didn’t want so much blood on her. It had reminded her of things her parents forced her to do when she was younger. And while the situation was completely different, it had still sent her to a place she didn’t want to be. Which begged the question, did they even still need her around?

“Look, not to just run off, but I probably need to get home. It’s getting late and…” She bit her bottom lip nervously, “I don’t really know either of you. So, like, do you need me for anything else, because, if not, I’m just gonna go…” She looked between them both. She knew Dewey was still in a bad way, but she had hoped they could manage without her. She needed to get the blood off. Needed to put on Frankie’s hoodie, find a dark corner to curl up in, and just be alone.

Carrington was immensely grateful that Dewey trusted him enough not to panic. That would likely do more harm than good, and Carrington didn’t relish the idea of having to force Dewey to do anything, even if it was for his own good. So when he lay still, Carrington worked quickly, trying to keep his own fear locked down tight. There was also the issue of the girl that was still standing nearby. She couldn’t be older than twenty, give or take. But she’d done a good thing by stopping to help. A brave thing as well, considering Dewey’s state. He would have to remember to thank her. Though it would likely fall far short of repaying what she’d done.

But that would come later. Right now he had to get Dewey out of here. He would carry him to the car if he had to, but if he could walk, that would be better all around. But it wasn’t better. If anything, it made things worse. “Alright… lie back…” Carrington said gently, taking Dewey’s hand as he practically slumped back to the ground. He was so weak. He needed… something to hold him over until they got back to Carrington’s. The hospital was right there. If Carrington could get into the blood bank, maybe-

The girl’s voice caught his attention, and Carrington blinked out of his thoughts. He turned towards her, still holding Dewey’s hand. She looked terrified. And rightly so. Carrington’s heart went out to her, it truly did, and the thought of asking her for anything else after all she’d done, after all she’d been through in the last half an hour… it almost seemed… not selfish - he would never call anything to do with Dewey’s well-being selfish - but perhaps it was almost too much. But he would ask anyway. “I’m Carrington. This is Dewey.” He gave the other man’s hand a squeeze. “You know that already. I’m a carpenter. He’s a doctor. He works just there-” Carrington gestured. “- at the hospital. He helps people. Saves lives. He’s… kind, and good, and selfless.”

Carrington swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I know I have no right to ask it of you, but… he needs blood. Not… like a human would. But… he needs to drink it. To heal.” Carrington let that fact sink in for a moment. “I have bloodpacks back at my home, but he’s very, very weak. He’s needs something before I dare move him. I would give him mine without question, except it won’t help him.” The vampire looked at the young girl, covered in blood, scared to death, halfway to bolting for home, and hoped he might one day be forgiven for what he said next. “But… yours would.”

Dewey hated this. Hated feeling so weak and vulnerable, so near a place where others defended on him to be the exact opposite. Hated himself for allowing this to happen in the first place. That he had put such a large and unnecessary burden on a young lady who didn’t deserve it, who had been freely compassionate to him, and who deserved nothing more than to be rid of the night and it’s accompanying memories. He couldn’t even begin to list how he hated himself for bringing all of this on Carrington’s shoulders. The last person he ever wanted to incite such worry in. No matter how good the elder was at concealing it, he just… he knew, it was there, threatening to rise from beneath the surface. He just knew it.

Hearing the red-head’s voice pipe up, he tilted his head back and attempted to offer her a small smile; grateful, intensely so. He would have to seek her out later on in order to properly thank her, however any means of doing so felt that it would pale in comparison to all that she had done for him tonight. He had been expecting Carrington to send her off - but when he began expanding upon Dewey’s weakness, an immediate dread filled him from head to toe, and the hand connected to Carrington’s gripped it as tightly as possible.

No, no he couldn’t dare ask that of her, not after all of this-- It wasn’t fair. Dewey shook his head weakly, gaze imploring the blonde to do something, anything other than put her through more potential trauma. Yet and still, the rational part of his mind had already wrapped around the solution and declared it sound. She obviously wasn’t human, he could smell that quite clearly - likely a shifter. Likely a werewolf. Taste aside, a few steady gulps would allow him to stand and make it to Carrington’s car, at the very least stay conscious until they could set him up with the proper nourishment at home.

He loathed the request, truly and fully, but… Damn it all, what else could he have done?

Layla continued to try and rub the stains from her hands harder into the rough material of her jeans. Why won’t this shit come off? Her heart was beating a little harder by now and the adrenaline rush she had felt earlier in the evening was starting to disappear and turn into nothing, but anxiety, “Um…” She listened as Carrington explained who they were and how she had been of service and how grateful they both were. Her eyes darted nervously back and forth from one vampire to the other. It wasn’t that it was a threatening situation, and surprisedly, Layla hadn’t been quite as skittish as she normally was. She was holding it together. Her inner animal maintained composure as she became more familiar with her surroundings and what people were capable of here.

It was the request. The request to let Dewey drink her blood that made her stand upright and no longer let the car support her weight. She bit into her bottom lip harder. The feeling of at least a little bit of fang sprouting as her nerves and anxiety seemed to continue to flourish, until her lip bled, and she could taste the metallic seeping into her mouth. Vampires could smell blood right? They could probably smell that, just like she could smell them. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t let this man die. A doctor, of all people. Someone who made it his mission to save lives. Someone who represented everything she ever fought for when she would get into ridiculously heated arguments with her parents about the ethics of letting another creature die, because of the threat her hunter parents assumed the animal, no, person was.

Her breathing heavy, she forced back the lump of dread and emotion in her throat. If she was going to do it, she was going to do it now. Her voice meek, she replied, “O-Okay…” Kneeling down beside Dewey once more, she pulled back her sleeve, and held out her wrist, palm up, so he had good access to her veins and the warm blood pulsing through her small, fair skinned form.

Carrington knew Dewey wouldn’t like it. He knew he would likely protest. And if Carrington knew of any other way to give Dewey the momentary edge he needed in order to be transferred safely, he would do it in a heartbeat. But so much could go wrong, even for an immortal. He could only hope that Dewey wouldn’t hate him once he was recovered, and that the girl - Christ, he didn’t even know her name yet - wouldn’t think them both monsters. Or wouldn’t think Dewey one, since he deserved nothing of the sort.

He turned to look at the other man when Dewey squeezed his hand. Carrington’s expression softened as Dewey shook his head. “I know… and I’m sorry. But if you fall unconscious again…” Carrington pushed a bit of bloody hair off Dewey’s brow. “Let her decide? Please?”

When he was able to turn back to the young woman - who’s attempts to wipe the blood off her hands hadn’t gone unnoticed - Carrington waited as patiently as possible for her to decide what to do. For in the end, it was up to her. If she refused… Carrington would have to take his chances and get Dewey home as soon as possible. But she didn’t. And perhaps it was wrong of him to try and tug on the young woman’s heartstrings a bit, but every word he said was true. He didn’t lie. Especially about something like this. “Neither of us will harm you, I swear it.”

Carrington held Dewey’s hand as the girl freely offered out her wrist for him to drink from. He even helped Dewey sit up a bit to make things easier on them both, glancing around to make sure there was no one in the vicinity. But when Dewey signaled he wouldn’t be able to manage any sort of effective bite, Carrington nodded. He turned to the girl again. “He’s too weak. He won’t be able to pierce the skin effectively.” There was a small pause. “Would you... allow me to do so?” He gestured gently towards her wrist. “And then let him drink? Two or three small sips should do.”

Shame was an emotion Dewey had waltzed with fairly often, shouldering it like a familiar cloak and spending a majority of his time accepting that he deserved to feel as though his very existence itself was something entirely wrong. That he hadn’t died back in the early 1900’s was some sort of mockery to God or whoever happened to be calling the shots up there beyond the atmosphere and beyond. What right did he have to be alive, when so many had perished? He’d gotten either incredibly lucky, or was being punished for the varying sins he’d committed as a human. He was never sure which it was; he had dwelt on the subject long enough to come up with at least twelve different answers. None of them were satisfactory. They never were.

His throat was already laced with the faint burn of thirst, so despicably familiar, and it only increased in severity the longer he went without feeding. Carrington’s gaze felt like the sole anchor he had in the swimming haze of disorientation, hunger and shame - heavy, thick, penetrating shame, so solid that he could beat against it and scream soundlessly, until his fists bled and his voice was raw. This wasn’t right. He was a doctor, for Christ’s sake. Vampirism be damned, he was supposed to… He wasn’t supposed to…

The urge to sob again consumed Dewey, but he somehow managed to roughly shove it down into the depths of his chest where it settled uncomfortably. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. It hardly ever did. When the young girl gradually offered up her wrist, he could have melted ice with the pitiful, apologetic frown he gave her, hoping it conveyed what he couldn’t properly in words. When Carrington bit into her wrist, he didn’t turn away - he knew all of them wanted this over as quickly as possible. The moment he saw the blood flow, he delicately clasped his mouth onto the wound, taking slow, careful swallows.

True to her nature, the blood had a… decidedly canine tinge, not at all appealing to his taste buds, but that was readily pushed aside. It was working to soothe the burn and flower in his chest, warm and hearty like a broth to someone ailing. A few gulps, then he released her wrist, but not before giving her palm a firm but gentle squeeze, red-stained lips mouthing ‘Thank you’ before he let go entirely. Already, he was beginning to use his emerging strength to search for the gauze Carrington had used, wanting to dress up her wound before sending her off. It was the very least he could do, after all.

It wasn’t that Layla was ashamed for saving Dewey’s life. Somewhere deep inside, she was proud of herself for not running away. She had already been through enough in just the past year that she would have rather hid under something dark enough to never be seen again by anyone out of fear of what life and its consequences had held. And now, she could add the title of blood donor to her list. What would Ari say? Would she scold her for saving a vampire’s life? How would her parents feel? In fact, it was probably good they had come to mind, because, now, in some way she was doing this to spite them. Saving the life of something they would have quickly put out of its misery. But it still didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid. And as she felt the pierce of fangs bury themselves into her soft, flesh, Layla let out a slight whimper.

Mind shifting and eyes growing heavy, she slowly looked over towards Dewey now that her wrist was his for the taking. Carrington’s initial impact was as gentle as you could be when biting into flesh, but the feeling of the other man draining her left her in a sort of haze. Vulnerability was at its finest, and if they had both wanted to finish her off they could. It was as if time was moving at a much slower rate and a certain euphoria was setting in. No, what he had taken from her wasn’t life threatening, but it had been enough for her to notice, so when it was all over and the fangs were pulled from her skin, it took Layla a moment to readjust to her surroundings.

Looking from Dewey to Carrington, eyes still somewhat clouded over and a certain air of innocence apparent on the teenager’s face, she spoke, “Is it done?” It wasn’t like anything she had experienced. Much faster than giving blood at a doctor’s office it seemed, and it was more personal. A connection she would hold, unspeakably, between the two men she had just helped.

Carrington was certain there would be a discussion about this evening at some point in the future. How could there not be? Especially since he knew Dewey’s feelings about feeding from others well enough by now. But that was a consequence Carrington was willing to accept if it kept Dewey safe. As was the consequence of potentially frightening a young woman beyond what was reasonable or fair. Consequences aside, as hard decisions went, this choice was an easy one. He wouldn’t let Dewey come to any lasting harm.

So when the young woman agreed, Carrington gave her a solemn nod, and a look of gratefulness, before gently taking her wrist and biting into it as gently and efficiently as possible. He didn’t take a single drop for himself, past what he couldn’t help but taste when his fangs broke the skin. Though her whimper of pain tore at his heart, despite not even knowing her name. Best to get it over with as quickly as they could then.

Dewey only took the bare minimum himself, Carrington never taking his hand from the other man’s arm. A point of contact for him to focus on. The smell of blood was rich and thick in the air, and as Carrington watched the young girl’s eyes glaze over, he knew she’d placed far more trust in them than most people would have. Perhaps that was naivety, or perhaps it was something else, such as simply having a good heart, despite the very real danger the two vampires could potentially be. But Carrington didn’t care about the blood. It wasn’t to his taste, if one wanted to be completely basic about it.

He watched the strength slowly return to Dewey’s form, and when he had taken the bare minimum he needed, Carrington helped him sit up this time. He almost protested Dewey wanting to bind the girl’s wrist - Carrington was more than capable - but decided against it. He’d had too many things taken out of his control this evening. So Carrington handed him the gauze before turning to meet the young woman’s eyes. She was coming around it seemed, which was good. Carrington touched her arm gently. “Yes, dear. It’s done. Are you alright?” His concern was clear in his expression.

Layla felt lightheaded. Almost like she wanted to lose anything she had consumed earlier in the day, but she’d live. Thank God, she’d live. Looking from Dewey to Carrington, she spoke, “Uh, yeah...Just dizzy.” She noticed how much the blood had helped the man laying on the ground, and it gave her some relief knowing she had helped him more than she initially thought she could, “Your friend, is he okay? Will he be okay?” She looked back to Carrington. Would they need her help after this? Would she have to help pick him up? So many questions that seem to matter now knowing she could trust them after she had allowed Dewey to drink.

Slowly crawling over to the car, she used it as leverage to get up. Once she was on her feet, Layla rested her hands on the vehicle to steady herself. It wasn’t enough to do any harm, but the teenager had never been good when it came to giving blood. In fact, the only time she ever donated to the Red Cross, she had nearly passed out, “It’s a good thing I became a werewolf and not a vampire.” With a haze hanging over her, she turned around one foot at a time to look at the two creatures on the ground, “Now, can I go?”

Her wrist dutifully bandaged by Dewey, Carrington looked the girl over with a concerned, experienced eye. She looked a bit peaked, and a fair bit shaken and uncertain, but as these things went, it could’ve been a lot worse. “That’ll pass. You need fluids and rest. No alcohol if possible.” Carrington looked to Dewey, who still looked weak and paler than usual, but who was awake and sitting up on his own. He gave his shoulder a small squeeze before turning his attention to their young companion. “Yes, he’ll be alright now. Thanks to you.”

Slowly, Carrington rose to his feet and stepped towards her. He gave a soft laugh and a gentle smile at her comment. “The tenacity and bravery of wolves is unmatched in our world.” Carrington didn’t have to look at Dewey to know the other vampire would agree with what he said next. “You have our eternal gratitude, my lady wolf. And I am in your debt. We both are. If there’s anything you ever need, just ask.” Out of life-long habit, Carrington gave her a tiny bow of his head when she asked if she could go. “Of course. Though… would you prefer a ride home instead? I’ve room for another,” he said, gesturing to the still idling vehicle. “It’s not safe out here, after all.”

#chatzy #p: good samaritan #p: dewey #p: layla #potw #medical blood tw #vomit tw #//for coughing up blood #//this was a fun ride!#//sorry not sorry for the description ILU <333

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writingkeepsmewhole · 4 years

Text

You Remember.

This is part 3 of Angel Eyes I hope you like it.

Fic Summary: Dean, Callie and Bobby find Sam.

Dean Winchester x OC Claudia

Warnings: Language, talk of death.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged. @magssteenkamp @deanwanddamons @lemondropirwin @vicmc624 @lilulo-12 @eternalevie

Part 1 Part 2

After we ate lunch we decided to try and find where Sam was. I was sitting on the counter in the kitchen Dean leaning next to me drinking a beer as I started to call Sam.

“Yeah?” He answers, sounding out of breath.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask my eyes locked on Dean.

He didn’t seem to mind his eyes meeting mine as well.

“You sound happy, did your hunt go well?” He asks, sounding like he was messing with something.

“Yeah, but where are you?”

“Illinois why?”

“I thought we could grab a bite to eat.”

“Alright I’ll text you where I’m at.”

“Thanks love you.”

“You too.” He says hanging up the phone.

“So where is he?” Dean asks, turning to face me.

“Illinois.”

“Well let’s go.”

By the time we got there it was dark. We found Sam’s hotel with ease. It was right off the interstate. Knocking on the hotel door I felt a rush go threw me realizing this was the first time Sam would get to see Dean again.

I was a bit shocked when a dark haired woman opened the door. She was dressed in a tank top and panties.

“So where is it?” She asks looking at us as if she was expecting something.

“Where's what?” I ask.

“The pizza that it takes three people to deliver.”

“Hey is the pizza-” Sam says coming out of the bathroom, him stopping in his tracks when he sees Dean.

I watched as Sam's face went through the emotions of shock, and unbelief.

"Dean?" He says sounding like the wind was knocked out of him.

"Heya Sammy." Dean says stepping into the room.

I jump and the other girl screams when Sam slams Dean into the wall trying to kill him.

"Sam stop!" I yell as Bobby jumps to get him off his older brother.

"It's really him Sam! I tested him myself." He says pulling Sam back.

I quickly move between the Winchester's, my back to Dean.

"Sam I promise it's him." I say pleading with me eyes and voice that he will listen to reason.

I watch the light bulb go off in his head, him once again looking at him.

"Dean?" He asks again.

"Yeah it's me." Dean says Sam quickly pulled him into a hug.

"So are you two like together?" The dark haired girl asks, making me turn to look at her.

I get this weird feeling in my gut like dejive. Or when you see someone you know but can't remember their name.

"What? No? He's my brother." Sam says looking at her.

"Right, uh I should probably go." She says pointing to the door.

"That's probably a good idea." Sam says.

She quickly gets dressed grabbing her things and walking to the door, Sam holding it open for her.

"Well I'll see you around Becky." He says smiling.

"It's Becca." She says her face, dropping.

I wrinkle my brow. It's weird for Sam to forget her name.

He wasn't normally like that. How bad did Dean's death affect him? Probably just as bad as it did me. I doubt worse. I don't think Sam had the hallucinations.

"So how much did it cost?" Dean asks looking at him from my place on the hotel bed not wanting to know the price of Sam's date.

"I don't pay Dean." He says putting his shoes on.

"Funny but that's not what I meant. What did it cost to get me out?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not Dean. I wish I was." Sam says standing up just for Dean to get in his face.

"Don't lie to me." He says his jaw clenching.

"I'm not, I wish I was. Dean I wish to God I was. I tried everything, you were in hell for four months and I tried everything to get you out but no demon would deal. Dean I'm so sorry." He says, his voice getting tight.

"It's okay Sammy I believe you." Dean says softly.

"Well I'm glad your soul is still intact but that does raise the question. How'd Dean get out?" Bobby says, making me bite my lip.

"Whatever it was has got to have something up it's sleeve. The bad thing is I think it might be Dean." I say running my fingers through my hair.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks looking down at me.

Standing up I join the three men standing in a weird circle.

"Well we've spent our lives putting demons back in their fiery cells so why would they want Dean back out? They know he would never join team black eyes so what does him coming back mean?" I ask knowing none of us had the answers but I just needed to vent my questions.

"Well whatever it is it ain't good." Bobby says making a pit of worry settle in my stomach.

"I have a question? Did you call me before or after you knew Dean was back? If so why not tell me?" Sam asks, changing the subject.

"I didn't want to rune the surprise besides I didn't know if you were behind his resurrection." I say shrugging.

"I promise you I wouldn't make a deal."

"Yeah, which you tried to break clearly."

"Well what about you? You weren't exactly dealing with his death." Sam says my face darkening.

He knew about all the twisted things I saw and said about myself.

"Yeah I wasn't but-."

"Will you two shut up?" Bobby says using his dad voice. Both of us closing our months and taking a step away from each other.

"It doesn't matter about that now. Dean is back and we need to figure out why. So you two stop fighting like cats and dogs and let's get to the bottom of this."

"You're right. I'm sorry Callie." Sam says looking at me.

"S'okay." I say shrugging, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Good now what we're you doing here if you weren't making a deal?" Bobby asks looking at Sam.

"I was tracking some demons and they packed up and booked it up here."

"Yeah well that makes sense where I popped up at it looked like a nuke went off." Dean says just as a knock is heard on the door.

"Ooo pizza." I say turning to go answer the door.

The three men behind me turned to hushed whispers as I opened the door, a teenager standing there a pizza in hand. He looked bored out of his mind that, quickly changed when he saw me.

His eyes bounce from me then to the boys behind me then back at me.

I roll my eyes a slight smirk on my face wondering what is going through his head.

"How much is it?" I ask, placing my hand on my hip.

"Oh umm 10.70." he says snapping out of it.

"One second." I say holding up my finger then walking over to Dean.

"Money pwease." I say holding out my hand using my little kid voice.

It's his turn to roll his eyes but he pulls a twenty from his pocket and hands it to me.

"Thank you." I say standing on my toes and quickly kissing his cheek.

I give the money to the pizza guy and walk back to the table.

"Where's my change?" Dean says looking at me.

"There's no change." I say open the box and hand him a slice of pizza.

"You gave that kid a ten dollar tip?" He asks looking down at me.

"Yes I just made his night."

"He looked confused outta his mind." Sam says taking a slice from the box.

"Well duh a hot chick like me in a room full of men is kinda weird." I say Bobby shaking his head, Sam lifting an eyebrow and Dean smirking.

I smile and move to sit next to Dean at the table.

"I'm gonna go rent a room and leave you idjits alone." Bobby says looking like he was done with us for the night.

"Goodnight Bobby wove you." I call after him as he walks to the door.

"Yeah yeah." He says leaving.

After Bobby left Sam stood up giving Dean his necklace back that he gave to him when we were kids.

I smile at the touching moment from my seat at the table.

“So what do you remember?” Sam asks the question that’s been bouncing in my head but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

“Not much, I remember being a hell hounds chew toy, then waking up in a pine box. Everything else is just blank.” Dean says, making me sigh in relief.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Dean says nodding.

“We should probably get to bed, we’ll start looking for whatever pulled you out in the morning.” Sam says, him always the responsible one.

That’s exactly what we do, within an hour all of us were ready for bed. Dean climbed into the free bed. Sam is already asleep in the other one. But I wasn’t in either.

I changed into some baggy sweat pants and an old shirt of Dean’s without thinking about it. But it hit me when I walked out of the bathroom seeing Dean laying in bed.

I was wearing his shirt because it was the only thing that helps me sleep at night. Sleeping next to him for most of my life had my brain wired that if I couldn’t smell him I couldn’t relax. I didn’t feel safe. Now that he is back, and in the same room as me I felt frozen.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asks looking over at me.

“Nothing just not tried.” I lie. Something I must have gotten better at because he nods and lays down.

“Don’t stay up too late.” He says making me smile.

“Okay dad.” I say earning a chuckle.

I stared at the TV till I felt like it was too late for it to be on then just sat in darkness. I should have been jumping at the chance to lay next to Dean. To know that he was real and okay but I was scared if I did in the morning I would wake up and he would be gone. Or worse his dead corpse would be there.

I chewed on my lip worried that whatever was happening was temporary and would end soon. Maybe this wasn’t about Dean, maybe this was Lillith trying to get back at Sam and me. Let us see Dean again just to snach him away again.

My mind raced until it couldn’t anymore. Me finally falling asleep at the table around 2AM. I didn’t get to rest long. My body decided it needed to pee.

I don’t make a noise as I get up not wanting to wake either brother up as I walk to the bathroom.

I opened it jumping when a figure was standing inside of it looking in the mirror. I quickly realized the figure was Dean staring at himself.

What worried me was he didn’t seem to even react to me coming inside. I look at his reflection realizing he was staring deep into his own eyes as if he was trying to figure something out, or forget something.

It doesn't take long for me to know what’s going on. I shut the door gently not wanting to spook him or wake Sam and lock the door.

Walking up to him I slowly touch his shoulder, making him jump and spin around to face me.

“You remember don’t you?” I say softly, him blinking as if he’s just now noticing me.

“I-.” He says his forehead wrinkling up.

“You don’t have to lie to me Dean. I won’t tell anyone. You don’t even have to talk about it. All I need is a yes or no.”

“Yes.” He says nodding.

“I remember all of it.”

“Okay.” I say as I pull him into a hug.

He wraps his arms tight around me. So tight it hurts but I don’t say anything. Okay wrap my arms around him as he buries his face into my neck.

“I missed you so damn much.” He says surprising me.

“I missed you too. Come on let's go to bed.” I say pulling away from him just enough to land back on my heels.

He nods and takes a step back, our arms leaving each other. I grab his hand and lead him back to the empty bed.

It felt strange to put him to bed when it was always the other way around. I wasn’t used to Dean being broken.

He gets under the covers laying down then holds his arm out asking me to join him. I do just that. Laying down next to him, he wraps his arms around me, his head on my chest. I play with his hair as his body heat starts to seep into me.

It doesn't take long for either one to fall asleep. It was just so much easier when we were together.

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riverboundao3ff · 4 years

Text

Riverbound, Chapter 13

Your name is LANQUE BOMBYX and joining a rebellion is either the best or worst thing you have ever done.

On one hand, it’s a great excuse to sneak out of the caverns and do something exciting. You’re having fun, you’re trying to make the world not a piece of shit, and you get to meet interesting new people who you haven’t lived with since you were literally four.

On the other, you now have to deal with things like getting into fights with mercenaries (your shoulder is still sore), putting even more effort into keeping Bronya and Lynera off your ass so they don’t suspect anything, and just generally trying to not get culled. It’s been hard not to feel more optimistic, though-- it’s hard to be bored when you’re constantly running around committing all sorts of crime.

There’s also the fact that despite dating the aforementioned mercenary bitch who mauled you, your dearest and most beloved party buddy has returned at last. Granted, they returned severely underweight, traumatized, and injured, but they came back, and a little piece of yourself that you didn’t even know had been missing fell back into place.

Not that you’d ever tell them that.

Ahem.

“You wanna zap back up to the caverns or are we walking?”

Your friend’s voice jolts you out of your thoughts, and you look down at them to meet their gaze. That oliveblood-- Polypa, had picked up a last-minute “job” as soon as the three of you got out of the danger zone that was the lowblood neighborhood. It was pretty clear that she didn’t want to leave her moirail alone with you, but the alien, bless their oblivious soul, just shooed her off with a demand that she be careful.

“Believe me, I am no hurry,” you mutter, kicking a pebble out of your path. It clatters down the sidewalk and into the street. Bronya is no doubt going to be furious with you for sneaking out while grounded, like she is with everything you do that isn’t related to being a good little cavern worker. You’re not looking forward to facing her wrath and possibly the palm of her hand.

“Yeah. I hope Bronya isn’t mad at me for dipping,” they mutter, looking a bit embarrassed.

You scoff. As if. “Bronya could never be mad at you, trust me. Just say you went along with me and the kids to keep us out of trouble and now you’re bringing me back.”

“I’m assuming she doesn’t know anything about our… club.”

“No, darling, and it’s going to stay that way for as long as possible.”

They frown. “Would she really be so pissed? I mean, she has her little technically legal nursery… which I know nothing about, because I’ve totally never helped out in there. Ever.”

“Bronya…” You have to do some thinking to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t be just calling the head jade a hypocritical piece of shit. You want the alien on your side. “Isn’t focused on the big picture. Nor does she want to be. Her whole world is the caverns, and I think if anybody tried to challenge that…”

“Things would be bad. Alright.” They look disappointed but don’t say anything else on the matter, which you appreciate.

You wrap your arm around their waist and pull them closer to you. They lean into your side with a sigh, tired, and for a moment you let yourself pretend that it’s just the two of you, walking back from a party like old times. No disappearances, no rebellion, just a strange pair of friends on their way home.

“Once we get back you’re taking a shower,” you say.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“That Gorjek was one-hundred percent right about your pores and that you stink like a corpse? Possibly. Probably.”

They elbow you in your grub scars and take off running when you swat at their head.

:::

As you feared, Bronya is waiting for you at the mouth of the cave when you and the alien arrive, hands on her hips and ears flat against the sides of her head.

If looks could kill you’d be a dead man. She opens her mouth, visibly swelling up in anger as you approach, but then her eyes flicker over to your mutual friend and something in them softens. Not for the first time, you’re selfishly grateful for them being around, if not just because you don’t have to deal with the brunt of Bronya’s anger. You know she refuses to make herself look bad in front of outsiders, the snake.

“Hi. We’re back,” they say sheepishly.

“And I’m not drunk this time,” you add, smiling down at her. Try and swing on me while I’m sober, bitch.

“Two whole nights out, in a row, while you’re grounded, and you brought the kids?” Bronya hisses. “And our friend? They’re supposed to be recovering!”

“I’m healed now, actually! We met up with a pal who helped me out. Also, I went out of my own accord,” the alien interjects.

Bronya huffs. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better--”

They give her finger guns.

“-- but that doesn’t change the fact that Lanque directly disobeyed orders. Again. What were you even doing?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation every time I want to take a break from this hellhole,” you snort. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend begin to nervously look around as if pretending like none of this is happening. You don’t blame them.

“You owe everybody an explanation for why they had to cover your duties while you were off doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who!”

“We get it, Ursama, I’m a whore. Can we go now?”

“That’s not what I-!”

“Lanque’s baaacckkkk!”

Your savior comes in the form of a young lady flying out of the caverns at top speed and latching on to your waist. The force is almost enough to knock you over, but thankfully you were given enough warning to anticipate the attack.

The anger brewing in your gut vanishes like mist in sunlight. Wanshi beams up at you, one fang missing from her top set of teeth. Looks like her adult teeth are finally coming in. “There she is! Were you good while I was gone?”

“Nope!”

“That’s my girl,” you praise, scooping her up and setting her on your hip.

“Wanshi. Did you finish sweeping the classroom?” Bronya asks, stern but far more kind.

“Duh.” Wanshi sticks her tongue out at Bronya and giggles when the head jade gives her a look. The alien takes notice of her missing fang and starts fussing excitedly over it-- you guess losing wiggler teeth is important in their culture as well.

It’s just the distraction you need to tighten your hold on Wanshi and casually toss an arm around the alien’s bony shoulders. You look past Ursama to the woods beyond, focusing your gaze on something. “Hey, Bronya? Aren’t those cholerbear tracks over there?”

She stiffens and whips around to follow your line of sight. “What?”

“Run!”

You grab the alien’s hand and break into a sprint, pulling them along with you despite their yelp of surprise. Wanshi wraps her arms around your neck and hangs on as you make a sharp right, dodge the girl who’s up next for guard duty, before darting down a corridor that’s rarely used except for meetings. The lights aren’t even on, which helps you avoid detection as some of your fellow cloistermates pass by the adjacent tunnel.

There’s an abandoned classroom up ahead, and the door is slightly ajar. Perfect.

Wanshi’s snickering uncontrollably by the time you set her down and kick the door shut behind the three of you. Beside you, the alien joins in, looking guilty, but you can easily see the huge grin they’re trying to suppress. You lock the door and herd them and the younger jadeblood farther into the darkness.

“I can’t believe she fell for that!” Wanshi whispers gleefully. “Oh, Lynera’s gonna be so-!”

Sharp, angry footsteps come storming down the corridor, their owner testing each door with a vengeance. All three of you freeze.

Wanshi dives into the lowest space on a bookshelf and flattens herself against the far side of it. You look around frantically, cursing your height, only for a pair of small hands to shove you into the corner farthest away from the door.

You look down at your friend, who blinks up at you, pupils completely blown out. It’s a second before you remember that they can’t see well in the dark. You’re flattered that they trust you enough to willingly put themselves into a situation where they’re so obviously vulnerable, and perhaps a little turned on.

“Lanque! Come on!” you hear Bronya growl in exasperation, and you suddenly remember another situation very much like this one: you and the alien in a dark room, with Bronya hunting you down like an enraged lusus. You’re holding them close to you, and you feel the thrumming of their heart like a featherbeast’s, the heat of their body, their distinctive scent filling your lungs. It’s the smell of something fiery yet sweet, completely unlike anything else on this planet.

Your gaze drops back down to them from the doorway. Their face has a reddish tint to it now. “Hm. This seems familiar.”

They swallow, open-mouthed and flustered. It’s irresistible.

“Going to yell for Mother, are we?” you whisper, pulling them even closer.

Dull nails dig into your forearms. “I made that up to you a long time ago, babe.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I just like making fun of you.”

“If that’s making fun of me, you should know I’ve had nastier conversations with the grubs in the nursery. Looks like somebody lost his touch while I was away,” they hiss under their breath. A slow smile spreads across their face as you bare your fangs at them. They’re totally fearless and it enrages and impresses you in equal measures.

The doorknob rattles. Both of you stiffen. Neither looks away.

It’s too long before the footsteps fade away, and even longer before you move. Then again, you’re forced to move because the first thing the alien does upon deciding they’re in the clear is to kick you in the shins like the little gremlin they are.

“You little-!”

“Sucks to suck, pretty boy. First one to your respiteblock gets the shower.”

“You do know I’m much faster than you, right? And stronger-?”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence before they disappear in a flash of light.

Spots dance before your eyes like you just got whacked upside the head with Elwurd’s bat, making you rapidly blink to clear them away. You don’t even realize you’re swearing up a storm before something tugs on your sleeve.

Wanshi looks up at you in awe as you begin to hate yourself even more than you already do. “Are you guys gonna need a bucket? ‘Cause I can go get one for you if you want.”

“... If you don’t ever tell a single soul what just happened I’ll bring you to wherever you want to go in the city the next night I’m off.”

“And you have to roleplay with me.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Deal!”

“Deal? I’m the one making a deal, you brat--”

Somehow, you manage to wrangle the hellion back into her respiteblock without attracting the attention of either Bronya or Lynera, which is a win in your book. When you get back to your own dorm, however, you’re greeted with the sight of an alien lounging on your carpet and a damp towel serving as their plate as they munch on a sandwich.

“Don’t worry, the towel’s mine,” they say in lieu of a greeting. Their post-shower scent clings to everything like a perfume. It’s distracting; you need a distraction.

“I still don’t know how you manage to eat anything with those useless teeth of yours. Do humans only eat soft food?” you snort.

“At least we don’t eat raw ass bones like some sort of wild animal.”

“Bones are good for exoskeleton development and strength.”

They pretend to gag. You throw your jacket at them and ignore their complaining as you go get changed in the other room. For the millionth time, you’re blown away by the fact they’re here. They’re here, and you’re both teasing each other and flirting and fighting just like they never even left.

You have no idea why this whole ordeal is impacting you so much. It’s not like you two were joined at the hip or anything before.

“Hey, Lanque?”

The real world returns as your friend’s voice registers in your thinkpan. “Yes?”

“How old are jadebloods when they have to start living at the caverns?”

“... Well, it depends. If there’s a shortage of workers at a nearby cloister then any jades nearby have a greater chance of getting chosen. Some start as young as three sweeps, some don’t have to until they’re six or seven.”

They’re silent for a moment. “How old were you? I mean, you don’t have to tell me--”

“I was four.”

“Oh.”

You grab a frozen burrito out of your hull and heat it up for dinner. When it’s ready, you throw it on a plate and rejoin the alien in the other part of the dorm. Their eyes are looking somewhere far away as you sit down beside them to lean against the loungeplank. The pajama shirt they’re wearing is far too big for them, draping listlessly over their petite frame, and your jacket is slung across their shoulders.

“I had a revelation the other night,” they tell you.

“Oh?”

“This is fucked up.”

“Anything in particular, or is this a ‘fuck my life’ sort of situation?”

“The caverns, actually. When we were sneaking out to go meet up with the teals, I just…” They gesture to nothing. “Jades really don’t get to be their own person, do they? When you get cloistered, that’s it. The rest of your life is devoted entirely to taking care of babies, of other people. And maybe some of them really like it! And they’re happy and find fulfillment in raising kids. But there’s so many people who just don’t. How are you supposed to find out who you are if you’re supposed to give everything you have away?”

You stare at them in amazement.

“Wanshi’s still losing baby teeth, for fuck’s sake! She should be outside, running around with other kids her age, getting dirty, having fun. She’s not-- she’s not supposed to be a mother! Not yet, anyways, if that’s what she wants when she grows up. Also, why the hell do you guys have to wear uniforms in your own home? Why are there drones in your own home? Jesus fucking Christ, this whole planet is a nightmare.”

“Don’t let Bronya hear you say any of that,” you say, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind after they stop to catch their breath.

Your friend groans and buries their face in their hands. “Look, Bronya’s great. She’s one of the most caring people I know. But can’t she see how this hurts a lot of the jades she’s supposed to be leading?”

“Again, dear. The caverns are her world.”

Eyes that are somehow green and brown and blue all at once train on you with a ferocity you’ve never seen before on your sweet-natured friend. “Lanque. When we win, no jade will ever have to live in a cloister, not if they don’t want to. Nobody will ever have to give up their life like that again. I can’t tell you how, or when, but it’s gonna happen whether the world likes it or not.”

“Don’t…” You swallow back something hard and painful in your throat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“It’s not a promise. It’s a threat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even as something in your cold, twisted bloodpusher unravels and softens. If this little alien, who’s already half-asleep on your floor, says that they’re gonna change the world… well, who are you to not believe them?

You drag them up onto the loungeplank before they can pass out on you. And when you fall asleep as well, it’s with a racing thinkpan and strange dreams of a planet with vast blue oceans and a single silver moon hanging low in the night sky.

:::

The alien’s gone the next evening when you wake up. They did, however, leave a note for you on the loungeplank.

Lanque,

Thanks for letting me crash at your place. 10/10 loungeplank, would sleep on it again. Don’t sneak out today, I’m going to be at the bombed neighborhood helping out anybody who wants it. Say hi to the girls for me.

Have a good night, bitch.

XOXO,

- M

#riverbound #hiveswap #pesterquest #hiveswap friendsim trolls #Jadebloods #mspa reader #the guardian #homestuck #c13

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serendipitous-magic · 5 years

Note

I'm sad. Can I have some fluffy Byeler hcs?

But of course.

-That binder full of Will’s drawings that Mike has in S1? He still does that as they grow up. In high school he has a whole new binder full of the drawings and doodles and notes that Will gives him. And by the time they reach college... hooboy. Mike has like at least 50 pounds of art collecting in binders and boxes because “I’m not just gonna throw it away, Will, duh.”

-Everyone talks about Will’s nightmares, but let’s talk about Mike’s for a second. Mike went through, let’s see... a) seeing the bloated corpse of his best friend get dragged out of the quarry at age twelve (turns out it was a fake, but still, that’s pretty scarring), b) being chased down and interrogated by government agents (especially scary when you’re a 12 year old kid), c) being chased by and fighting a horrifying monster from another dimension, d) watching his friend and crush (El in this case) “die” right before his eyes, flaking away into nothing, e) watching Will slowly become possessed and lose himself to the Shadow, f) escaping through a lab full of demodogs (one of which ripped Bob apart), g) regaining El only to watch both her and Will get driven away in two separate cars not an hour later, knowing they could both die, h) oh this is out of order but MIKE WAS WITH WILL THE WHOLE TIME THE TUNNELS WERE BURNING - Mike heard Will screaming in agony, he was there, he watched that, and this is the point where I’m remembering this is supposed to be fluffy.

THE POINT IS Mike has some trauma too. Nothing near what Will went through, but Mike has some very good reasons to have nightmares.

What happens when Mike gets nightmares? Will wakes him up. Gently - he doesn’t want to startle him awake. He just puts a hand on Mike’s arm, shoves him gently, says his name over and over until Mike surfaces from the nightmare he’s trapped in. And Mike probably lunges up immediately and pulls Will into a hard hug, because most of Mike’s nightmares involve losing Will in one way or another (to the Upside Down, to the Mind Flayer, to the demogorgon, to his own demons, to a moving truck and an empty house (Joyce wanted to move and the Byers *almost* did, but they ended up staying so Will could finish high school with his friends, OF COURSE), etc.) Mike squeezes Will hard enough that Will can’t really breathe, and Will just lies down next to him without complaint and threads his fingers through Mike’s hair and doesn’t say anything, because anything he could say - you’re okay, I’m here, we’re both okay, I love you - Mike already knows.

(That turned out to be part angst part fluff lol oops, hopefully that works)

-Okay to balance it out, lol: When they finally move into an apartment together, they get a kitten. Will doesn’t consider himself a cat person, per se, but frankly the apartment isn’t big enough for a dog, and plus, a dog would remind Will too much of Chester. So Mike pleads and coaxes and convinces Will to agree to a kitten.

Just imagine byeler playing with a kitten real quick. Go ahead, imagine it. Just let the cuteness overload happen. They’d spend hooouuurs just dragging a piece of string around and watching the kitten pounce on it. They’d probably name it Gizmo.

Hope this helped!

#asks #byeler #byler #fluff #headcanons

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Jude & Jac

Jude: [post rave] Jude: you can stop your 1 woman campaign now, freshers looks fun, I admit it Jac: That's why they give out free shit and throw these things Jac: convince people like you, good to know you've fallen for it 🎣😏 Jude: I'm convinced enough to crash Trinity's 😜✌ Jude: here on out Jac: good luck, jailbait Jac: the two years you've got left in school show 👶 Jac: you can't even grow unconvincing facial hair like the boys in my year Jude: nah they don't, why ma & da get so stressed every time I leave the house 💋👗👠 Jac: Predators enjoying the fact you think so is another issue entirely Jude: 🙄😏 Jude: can never just have a nice chat with you Jac: What do you need to chat about? Jude: what do YOU need to chat about? Jac: That was an...attempt, I'll give you that Jude: alright, here's the nudge, her name starts with S & last time she was ranked she was at like a 4 Jude: but I'm willing to bump her up in light of recent events Jac: You've reconnected and + 1 up, have you? Jac: That's nice Jude: taking a decent 📷 is good for a few points Jude: probs should lose 'em again when it's dad 👍 but whatever Jac: Very generous Jac: do appreciate you keeping your 👍 to yourself Jac: what do you wanna ask then? Jude: ikr I'm in a generous mood Jude: I'm not forcing you into a q & a Jude: I just think it's good you're mates again Jude: be a bit weird having her there & not Jude: some girl isn't gonna be there 📷 to turn her into a headless 👻 whenever shit gets awkward Jac: That your professional opinion, captain obvious? Jac: well, cheers for your blessing, like Jude: I could tell you were waiting for it so Jac: Clearly Jac: the little you think about has always been my GREATEST concern 😏 Jac: and she'll be up and over the 🌙 at her new score, of course Jude: all I REALLY wanna know is if she has a 🌾🐄 accent now, like? be honest Jude: it's still silver 🥄 yeah? Jac: Err, come on, it was NEVER Southside Jac: and even if it was, that'd count for NOTHING here Jac: so posh some of 'em it's a speech impediment Jude: so you're saying she don't fit right in with the 👸🤴 & qualifies as a bit of rough instead Jude: gutted for her Jude: her ma'd be even more 💔 wonder how she is Jac: That isn't funny, Jude Jude: not about her mum, that was well sad Jude: posh boys not thinking Sav is, is a bit though Jac: Have you ever tried engaging your brain before you speak Jac: not being completely insensitive should not be this hard for you Jude: ?? Jac: Don't ?? at me Jac: you say it's 'well sad' but you're the one that cracked a joke in the first place Jude: I didn't Jude: not about that Jac: I'm not pulling it from nowhere, it's still on my screen Jac: I don't think you realize how badly you come across half the time Jude: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come across like a massive dickhead Jude: I think Sav's alright, I'm not trying to take the piss out of her Jac: Well it's alright this time 'cos you only said it in front of me Jude: be going a bit far to check in with her Jude: not weird at all Jac: you're saying I SHOULD put it past you? Jac: you are weird Jude: I'm saying I'm not about to say it front of her as I don't talk to her, am I Jac: doesn't mean getting into the habit of saying every 'hilarious' thought that enters your head out loud is a plan Jude: yeah alright Jude: fair enough Jac: Anyway, Sav isn't interested in any boys that look like they came from 🐴s not 🐒s Jude: 🤣 Jude: you wanna be careful saying 👦🏽👦🏾👦🏿 look like 🐒 but I get you Jac: She hasn't got a boyfriend of any colour so I weren't saying that Jude: I didn't reckon so, not unless she got a lad to follow her to uni Jude: but who wants that? Jac: Her ex was holding her back hardcore but he's given that up, thankfully Jude: he sounds like a right laugh & not at all like a prick Jac: That's boys for you Jude: 😜 Jude: when do they grow up? 40s or what? Jac: Have you met our father? Jac: never Jude: oh great Jac: 🤷 Jude: it's alright for you, you can get all the 🤓 lads when you're done studying or whatever Jude: least they'll be smart Jac: smart boys are worse Jac: they want to explain everything to you Jude: really? Jude: fuck that then Jac: dumb but kind are the lofty heights you can shoot for Jude: like a 🐶 Jac: yep Jac: loyalty too, forgo the collar Jude: yeah you're right that is lofty heights Jude: maybe when I'm 40, I can find a lad that don't need one Jude: stop him going over the road & 💔 me Jac: shitting where you eat is gross but convenient, that's boys Jude: 👍 Jude: Jess is so lucky he can pick a lad or a girl Jac: Most people are undesirable Jac: gay lads will only touch him if they think he's straight and that's their type Jac: and girls are a whole different beast altogether Jude: that'll be why he's so 😒 Jac: as a rule or more than usual right now? Jude: we all know why he's 😒 right now Jude: you pissed off somewhere more fun without him Jac: I think he's just fine Jac: and he did it first, every weekend, like Jude: speaking of, his latest gig was not the one Jude: so he's probably 😒 about that Jac: like, he was shit, the crowd weren't the right one or the equipment weren't? Jude: he needs a better 🎸 but that ain't news Jude: seemed like he didn't wanna be there to me Jac: Hm, a fight with one of his girlfriend or boyfriends then Jac: meant to make him better so he's fucked up there Jude: relatable Jac: 🙄 Jac: alright Jude: don't be 🙄 @ me Jude: your dating history ain't spotless Jac: I've never dated anyone so it is Jac: 📑 definition Jude: your hook up history then, you know what I mean cos me either Jac: I don't fall in love with them like an idiot, it's entirely different Jude: I fell in love with the one, who I was dating for a bit Jude: I'm not going about falling for 'em all Jac: Still did, didn't you Jac: I can't even remember any of mine Jac: nothing came into play but proximity and timing Jude: 🏆🥇 if you want Jac: take it over your 💔 obviously Jude: yeah Jac: 🙄 I repeat Jude: whatever Jude: I was stupid, it was ages ago Jac: you brought it up Jude: it was my mistake, I can Jac: not a sounding board for your whining Jude: alright, my bad Jac: used to you Jude: you've got your own room now, get over it, like Jac: unfortunuately, that doesn't stop us sharing a family so I don't think I will, thanks Jac: unfortunuately, that doesn't stop us sharing a family so I don't think I will, thanks Jude: it's a part time one for you now, don't have to see this face til 🎄🎅☃️🎁 Jac: Unfortunately, can stay over Spring though, but there's no catering in the Xmas hol 💔 Jude: 👎 - 1 point to St Andy's Jude: is Sav going to her mum or dad for the hols? Jac: better than home, get all my meals and room cleaned for me every week so Jac: literally only just got here, who's thinking about leaving Jac: some other halls you can stay, so maybe she'll find someone there, so she only has to do actual Xmas day or whatever Jude: me now, maybe I should bother going to uni if they're gonna clean for me Jac: only if you get into a good one Jac: and pay extra, hence most people are self-cater, but what else do I need my grant, loan and scholarship for, may as well Jude: 🤔 I hear you, that's unlikely Jac: you have time Jac: two years can change everything Jude: not my 🧠 it can't Jude: my concentration ain't there unless I'm doing 🎨 Jac: you could try harder, and you know it Jude: at what? Jac: concentrating on enough subjects to get you into a decent Uni Jac: you don't need every one, just enough to boost your points Jude: sounds easy that 😤😏 Jude: if I'm only in it for the 🧹🧺 🧼🧽 & I ain't 🤓 enough for one of 'em, ain't much point Jac: It's not about being nerdy or naturally intelligent, it's about being smart with the system Jude: yeah but it's probably also about going cos you wanna learn stuff & be there not just cos you wanna leave home for a bit Jac: most people never use their degrees, so you tell me Jude: that's true Jude: what subjects then? Jac: Depends what you want to do, Art in some form, assumedly? Jac: Fuck Irish and Spanish and PE, duh, knuckle down with your rest to up your points as much as you can then absolutely ace Art Jude: Alright, I'm decent at PE anyway Jude: that'll be easy points Jac: Exactly, no need to purposely fuck them up, but focus harder on the rest, especially the ones you are less decent at without trying Jude: please tell me you've left your notes here Jac: Of course Jac: under my bed, if you haven't lit it on 🔥 Jude: it's only been a week, gimme chance Jac: well, don't reckon they'll let you get a double yet Jac: I still need a place to crash in the holidays and it certainly won't be beside you snoring your head off Jude: might do if I steer clear of lads for a bit Jude: not that I've done half as much with 'em as everyone reckons I have Jac: People find shit to chat regardless, not worth paying no mind to, no more mind to stupid lads either Jude: I don't care if people don't reckon I'm a virgin still even though I am Jude: it's not like it matters Jac: Yeah, those people will all be irrelevant before you know it Jude: loads of people are well jealous of your uni btw Jude: reckoned you'd wanna hear that Jac: Of course Jac: x2 Jude: 😏 Jac: It's more of a flex than Trinity even, and only a handful of people got in there Jude: when did you work out what you wanted? it feels like you've been going on about it forever Jude: but like actually Jac: 🤔 Jac: I can't remember a point where it wasn't my plan, honestly Jac: more abstract when I was little and didn't have the titles and disciplines to put to it but Jac: I always liked murder mysteries and shit, what makes us tick Jude: right Jude: you love a true crime podcast Jac: 😏 Jac: but I'd rather deal with the living murderers than the corpses of their victims so Jude: well yeah Jude: 🦴🦷 bit gross Jac: 🧠 are much better Jude: long as you're not cutting into it Jac: I won't be Jac: if I'd combined biology, and gone that route Jude: I won't be either, tah Jude: science is proper hard Jac: Psychology has a shit load of it involved anyway, but I can blag it Jude: you're SO excited, I can tell Jude: 🤓💕 Jac: Of course I am Jac: it's everything I've ever wanted Jude: it's weird you're so far away though, it don't feel like you are Jac: Glad my prescence and now abscence had/have such a huge impact on you Jac: we both know why though so Jude: yeah Jac: it's different now Jude: good Jac: alright then Jude: give my love to Savannah, I know she'll have missed me Jude: that's the impact I have Jac: 👌👌 Jude: 😝 Jac: Do you really have a problem with Savannah? Jude: course not, I told you I think she's alright, it's just bants Jude: why does she have a problem with me? Jac: yeah, it's a massive grudge she took all the way to Sligo and back Jac: 🙄 Jude: you know what I mean Jude: has she said that I come across as a massive dickhead too or something? Jude: I don't wanna upset her, like Jac: you haven't come up a load in conversation, like Jac: oddly enough Jac: it's that Jac: she's like my girlfriend alright so you can't be a dick about her anymore, alright Jude: alright then Jac: is that all you're gonna say Jude: I won't take the piss out of her no more, like I said, I didn't mean it anyways Jac: you can react, you know Jac: it's big news on multiple counts Jude: it makes sense Jude: I get it now, why you were like that after she left Jac: Good Jac: I want you to know that Jac: don't change how it was, but still Jude: you could've just told me you rated her 10/10 Jude: is that why she left? like her family always seemed a bit off but I didn't think they were that bad Jac: I couldn't, though Jac: no, her mum wasn't coping Jac: as we all know now, and then the Isabelle stuff went down, so their dad stepped in Jude: yeah, but I mean, that's not part of why she slit her wrists, is it? Cos Sav doesn't need that to carry Jac: it was because the dad left and then took them, to put it as bluntly and without nuance as possible Jac: but that's all on him, not the girls, her mum isn't like blaming them, their relationship is getting better Jude: at least she was alright with you too dating then, nobody needs that dark ages mentality shit Jude: she's got enough going on Jac: well, she doesn't know about that yet Jude: but you were together back then, yeah? Jac: no, it's a new development Jac: as in, like, the other night new, no one really knows, I barely do Jac: things were complicated before Jude: oh okay, soz for backtracking so hard, I just thought Jac: yeah, that was the problem Jac: shit was assumed or it wasn't Jude: what a headfuck Jude: you're okay now though, right? Like the other night went alright Jac: I guess for context, before she left, I did kiss her and it went horribly Jac: I loved her then but she didn't and then she was gone Jac: I see how it sounded like pining there but no Jac: it's good now though, things have changed, we both have Jude: I knew something happened that night when you came back early, you were like a 👻 or like you'd seen one Jac: Yeah, that was what it was Jude: it won't happen again if things are different so Jac: not as bad Jude: I'm glad Jude: that this is the ending you get, cos it's not one, it's more like a beginning or whatever Jude: you don't have to be just excited for uni Jac: I know Jac: not that there's anything wrong with just being excited for Uni, tah very much Jac: whatever happens, I think we'll be able to stay friends this time so Jude: or you'll just marry her & have all the kids she obviously wants Jac: let's not get carried away, shall we Jude: 1. you never said I couldn't have bants with you still Jude: 2. there's nowt I don't know about her life plan, she talks LOADS Jac: You only have a problem with that because you want to be the one talking Jude: course I do Jac: it cannot be overstated how much I'd rather listen to her, is the point ❤ Jude: it'd be a bit rude if you were already like nah tah 🤐 it, babe Jude: probably don't do that Jac: That's your top tip and people really think you're not a virgin? Jac: Interesting Jude: it don't work out well for the lads who TRY it with me 😏 Jude: people reckon I'm not cos I'm that 🥇 yeah Jude: & cos lads have loads to say for themselves, most of which is bollocks Jude: but you're not a sounding board for my whinging, I remember Jac: 'Bants', dear sister, 'bants' Jude: 👍 Jac: anyway, I've got to go Jac: there's this variety show that is apparently hilarious, either actually or in how bad it is so Jude: & I've got loads of 📝📚📖📏📐to do if I'm gonna have my own freshers Jude: top quality entertainment like that, literally how could I not? Jac: sure you'll want to be in it yourself 😏 Jude: you're correct Jude: 👋 then

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